#mikey x reader

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Girl math

[gsfloater]

The Project from Hell.

Manjiro Sano x Reader

-> When you get stuck with the infamous no-show Manjiro Sano as your partner for a major class project, you hunt him down fully prepared to drag a delinquent legend back to school by the collar if you have to.

Word Count: 5,554

------

It starts with a list.

A stupid, crumpled, printed list your teacher taped to the chalkboard while the class groaned like they had just been sentenced. You lean forward in your seat, dragging your finger down the columns of names until you find your own.

And then you blink.

And then you blink again.

“…Who the hell is Manjiro Sano?”

The classroom goes dead silent.

Three heads snap toward you like you just said a slur. Someone drops a pencil. Someone else actually gasps. It's dramatic enough that you lean back in your chair, wondering if you’ve somehow missed a world-ending announcement.

A girl near you leans in, whispering like she’s imparting ancient knowledge.

“You… don’t know who that is?”

“No?” you answer slowly. “Should I?”

Her eyes widen with the kind of fear usually reserved for natural disasters.

“That’s Mikey,” she hisses.

You stare blankly.

“That doesn’t help,” you say.

Her jaw unhinges. “THE Mikey.”

You stare harder.

She seems physically pained. “Tokyo Manji Gang? Toman? The delinquent gang that runs this entire side of the city? He’s their leader?”

Ah.

So your partner is a truant crime boss.

Fantastic.

You raise your hand.

Your teacher doesn’t even look up from his attendance sheet. “No, you may not switch partners.”

“I didn’t even ask yet.”

“But you were going to.”

You lower your hand and sigh. “Okay, but my partner isn’t here.”

“He’s never here.”

“…That should be the first red flag right there.”

Your teacher pinches the bridge of his nose. You feel bad for him. He looks like he hasn’t slept since the Meiji period.

“Just… find him,” he says weakly. “Work it out.”

You’re about to argue about fairness, about not being partnered with a literal urban legend but the bell rings, and twenty students flood the hallways, leaving you with your backpack, your half-finished worksheet, and a headache.

You stare at the name again.

Manjiro Sano.

Whoever he is, he’s not dragging your grade down.

You’ll hunt him down yourself if you have to.

-----

Finding Mikey turns out to be harder than you thought.

You ask one classmate where he usually is. They faint.

You ask another. They run away.

Eventually you corner a third, who trembles through an explanation that you should “try the parking lot” like that means anything.

The parking lot is empty.

Then someone else suggests the shrine.

The shrine is empty.

Finally, by pure accident, you overhear some first-years whispering about “Mikey-san and Draken-san” being at “their spot,” which apparently everyone knows about except you.

And that’s how you end up here.

In front of them.

Toman.

A whole cluster of them, lounging around abandoned bikes, laughing, shoving each other, wearing matching jackets, and collectively radiating the kind of chaotic energy that warns normal people to turn around and walk away.

You are not normal people.

You march straight up to the nearest one.

He stops mid-sentence, staring at you like you’ve just approached a wolf pack holding a report card.

“Um. Hi.” You adjust your backpack straps. “I’m looking for Manjiro Sano.”

Five heads swivel toward you.

A tall boy with blonde hair, definitely Draken, gives you a long, assessing stare like he’s trying to figure out if you’re suicidal or just clueless.

“Why,” he finally asks, “are you looking for Mikey?”

“I’m his project partner.”

Silence.

The type that has weight.

The type that says whole gangs have been wiped out over less shocking statements.

Draken clears his throat. “Come again?”

You hold up your assignment paper like a badge. “Group project. He’s my partner. He hasn’t been in class since the beginning of time, so I need him to do his part.”

Someone chokes.

Someone else drops their cigarette.

Draken rubs a hand down his face. “God, you’re serious.”

“Yes?” You glance around. “Should… I not be?”

Before Draken can answer, a voice floats in from behind him, light, airy, singsong.

“Drakeeeeen, did you eat the last dorayaki? I told you I was saving that-”

A small figure hops off a bike and walks closer, pout already forming.

Blonde hair. Big dark eyes. A lollipop in his mouth.

Mikey.

He looks nothing like a terrifying gang leader should look. He looks like a boy who makes trouble because he thinks it’s fun. He looks like he hasn’t attended a single class in months.

He looks at you.

You look at him.

He tilts his head.

“…Who’re you?”

“I,” you say, stepping closer, “am the person whose grade you’re ruining.”

The entire gang audibly inhales.

Mikey blinks at you once, twice, like a cat processing a new toy. Then, slowly, a smile curls onto his lips.

“Oh,” he says. “Class stuff.”

“Yes. Class stuff.” You cross your arms. “You are my partner. You are failing. Actually, both of us are failing, because of you. So get up. We have work to do.”

The look on their faces is priceless.

A mix of horror, awe, and mild respect.

And Mikey? He just grins wider, leaning in with a glint in his eye like he’s found something interesting for once.

“Hmm,” he hums, looking you up and down. “You’re kinda bossy.”

“Only when my GPA is endangered.”

Draken mutters, “This is insane,” under his breath.

Mikey pops the lollipop out of his mouth, points at you with it, and says:

“Alright. I’ll help you.”

Everyone stares at him.

“You will?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “You came all the way here. That’s kinda cool.”

You blink, taken aback.

Then…

“Great,” you say briskly. “Let’s go.”

Mikey hops up immediately, following you like a duckling.

Toman watches their leader get dragged away by a random classmate like he just imprinted on you.

Draken calls after him, “DON’T SKIP, MIKEY!”

Mikey calls back, “I’M NOT SKIPPING, I’M STUDYING!”

Then he turns to you with an eager expression that should not exist on the face of a known menace.

“So,” he says brightly, “what’s the project about?”

You exhale.

This is going to be hell.

------

You drag Mikey back to school like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

It isn’t.

People stop and stare as the two of you walk through the gate: you with your backpack, him with his hands tucked into his pockets and a lollipop in his mouth, looking like he’s on a casual stroll instead of being forcibly escorted to class.

You can practically hear the rumors writing themselves.

“Is that… Mikey?”

“Why is he here?”

“Who’s that with him?”

“Is she… his girlfriend?”

You ignore it all, focusing on your actual mission: the project.

“Take off your shoes,” you say, pointing at the entrance cubbies.

Mikey squints at them like they’re an unfamiliar species. “Oh, right. School rules.”

“You remember those?”

“Mm,” he hums. “Draken used to yell at me about it.”

You can imagine it. You don’t have to try very hard.

Once you’ve swapped shoes, you march him down the hallway. He keeps drifting, getting distracted by posters and windows and literally nothing. Twice you have to grab the back of his uniform jacket to stop him from wandering off.

“This is boring,” he says eventually.

“You haven’t even started yet.”

“I can feel it.”

You roll your eyes and shove the classroom door open.

Every head snaps toward you.

Then the room collectively stops breathing.

Someone whispers, “No way.”

Someone else reaches for their phone like they want to document this rare, possibly mythical occurrence.

Mikey looks around, visibly unimpressed. “Smells like chalk.”

“That’s because it’s a classroom,” you mutter. You point at his assigned seat, empty since the dawn of time. “Sit there.”

He plops into the desk, spinning slightly on the chair, legs stretching out. He slumps back like he’s at home, eyes flicking over the whiteboard.

Your teacher looks like he might faint.

“M-Mikey,” he stammers from the front, clutching his attendance sheet.

Mikey lifts a hand lazily. “Yo.”

The class is buzzing now, whispers bouncing off the walls.

“He actually came.”

“Who brought him?”

“That girl is insane.”

You ignore the buzzing, tug your notebook out, and slide into the seat next to his. The moment you do, the whispers change tone. More pointed. More curious.

You pretend not to hear any of it.

“Okay,” you say, flipping to a blank page. “The project is on post-war economic reforms. We need to pick a specific policy, research its effects, and do a presentation.”

Mikey stares at you with the most offended expression you’ve ever seen. “Post… what now?”

“Post-war economic reforms.”

“Why can’t we do something cool? Like… famous fights in history.”

“Because that’s not the assignment.”

He slumps further, cheek squishing against the desk. “School sucks.”

“You wouldn’t know,” you mutter. “You’re never here.”

He grins sideways at you. “But I’m here now. For you.”

Your heartbeat does a stupid little jump.

You squash it immediately.

“For the project,” you correct him sharply.

“Mm,” he hums, smile not budging. “Sure.”

-----

The after-school library is painfully quiet.

Mikey is not.

He drums his fingers on the table. Taps his foot. Tilts back in his chair. Tilts too far, almost falls, then catches himself with a laugh that makes three people look over and shush him.

You slap your hand down on the stack of textbooks between you.

“Focus.”

“Can’t.”

“Try.”

“Don’t wanna.”

You inhale through your nose and exhale through your teeth. “Okay. New approach.”

He perks up slightly. “Does it involve food?”

You blink.

Pause.

Absolutely recalibrate your whole plan.

“…It can.”

His eyes brighten instantly. “I like this approach.”

You dig into your bag and pull out the small paper bag you brought, because some annoyingly soft part of you anticipated this. You pull out a neatly wrapped dorayaki and set it on the table.

Mikey goes very still.

“Is that-”

“Yes,” you say. “And you can have it if you answer five questions correctly.”

He stares at you.

You stare back.

The air between you feels loaded, like some unspoken challenge has been issued.

Finally, Mikey leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes shining with determination you haven’t seen once in class.

“Alright, partner,” he says. “Teach me.”

You try not to smile.

You fail.

Just a little.

“Okay,” you say, pointing at a paragraph. “What was one of the goals of the post-war economic reforms?”

Mikey squints at the page, lips moving as he reads. You watch his eyes track the lines, a little slower than you expected, but steady.

“…To reduce the power of large… conglomerates,” he reads carefully, then glances up. “So rich guys couldn’t control everything?”

“Exactly,” you say, pleased. “That’s one.”

His gaze flicks to the dorayaki. “Four more.”

You work through questions. You simplify things where you can, connect it to stuff he’d care about.

“So basically,” you say, tapping the page, “they broke up economic power so one group couldn’t dominate everything.”

“Like how Toman doesn’t let other gangs run our turf,” he says without missing a beat.

You pause.

“…Sure,” you say slowly. “Kind of.”

His whole face lights up. “I get it now.”

You stare at him.

It hits you that he isn’t stupid. Not even a little. He’s just... unbothered. Uninterested. Floating through life on his own orbit.

But when something hooks him, when something connects, he’s sharp.

You’re weirdly gratified you were the one to make that connection.

Five questions later, he’s chewing happily on his dorayaki, crumbs dotting his lips. You’re surrounded by open books and scattered notes, and somehow, progress has been made.

“Not bad,” you admit, scribbling down your half of the outline. “You might actually pass.”

He leans back, watching you as he chews. “Hey.”

“Mm?”

“You always work this hard?”

You shrug. “Someone has to.”

“That why you came to find me?”

“Someone had to.”

He hums thoughtfully, sucking some filling off his thumb. “You’re kinda scary.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“In a good way,” he clarifies immediately. “Like Draken. Just smaller. And cuter.”

Your pen stutters.

You refuse to dignify that with a response.

------

Word spreads fast.

By the second study session, Toman is aware.

You know this because when you show up at Draken’s bike shop, at Mikey’s invitation, no less, there’s a row of delinquents pretending very badly not to watch.

“You’re back,” Draken says when you step in, wiping grease off his hands. His gaze darts to the stack of notebooks you’re carrying. “You really got him doing schoolwork?”

“Trying,” you say. “He invited me.”

Draken snorts. “That’s a first.”

Mikey is perched on an overturned crate, swinging his legs, half-empty bag of snacks beside him. He brightens the second he spots you.

“Oi, partner!”

The word makes something flutter in your chest. You press it down and drop your bag at his feet.

“Alright,” you say. “Today we’re working on our presentation structure.”

He frowns. “Didn’t we already study?”

“Knowing things is step one,” you say. “Explaining them without sounding like an idiot is step two.”

“Ouch,” he says, clutching his chest dramatically.

You sit beside him on the crate, knees bumping. It’s a tight squeeze, but you don’t move away. Neither does he.

“Okay,” you say, opening the notebook and angling it between you. “Look. We divide it like this-”

As you talk, filling out a rough outline, you can feel eyes on you.

You glance up.

Half of Toman is leaning around doorways, peeking from behind shelves, very obviously eavesdropping.

You stare.

They freeze.

Mitsuya raises a hand weakly. “Don’t mind us.”

“This is creepy,” you say flatly.

“Don’t worry about them,” Mikey says, reaching over your arm to steal a pen just because it’s yours. “They’re just curious.”

“About what?” you demand.

He shrugs, leaning so close his shoulder presses into yours. “You.”

Your face heats.

You try to hide it by pointing aggressively at the notebook. “Focus, Sano.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says cheerfully.

The others exchange looks.

You hear someone whisper, “She just told Mikey to focus and he listened.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Are we watching our boss get housebroken?”

You snap your head up. “I can hear you.”

They vanish.

Mikey bursts out laughing, head tipping back, eyes crinkling. The sight does something dumb to your chest.

You don’t join the gang. You don’t start hanging around all the time. But you become… a presence. An exception.

And Toman, bizarrely, gets used to it.

------

A week later, you’re back in class, project presentation looming.

You’re at your desk, flipping through index cards, when one of your classmates, Tanaka, you think his name is, eternally smug, sidles up to you.

“Hey,” he says, sliding his hands into his pockets. “How’s it going with Sano?”

You don’t look up. “Fine.”

“He even shows up for you,” Tanaka says with a laugh. “That’s impressive.”

There’s something in his tone you don’t like.

You hum noncommittally.

“He’s not actually doing anything, though, right?” Tanaka continues. “I mean, you’re obviously carrying the whole thing. He’s just… there.”

You pause.

Your pen freezes mid-word.

Slowly, you look up.

“What?”

Tanaka shrugs, careless. “It’s Mikey. He doesn’t do schoolwork. Honestly, sensei should’ve just given you a new partner.”

Anger sparks, hot and automatic.

You think of Mikey squinting at paragraphs in the library. Mikey connecting economic reform to gang turf like it’s the most natural comparison in the world. Mikey actually trying because you asked him to.

You narrow your eyes. “He’s doing his part. We both are.”

Tanaka snorts. “Sure. Look, it’s not a big deal. Some people just aren’t cut out for this stuff. Delinquents like that? They’re just dead weight in class.”

You’re halfway to standing when a shadow falls over your desk.

“Say that again.”

Mikey’s voice is quiet.

Too quiet.

You glance up.

He’s standing behind Tanaka, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded but sharp. The energy around him has shifted, still, but dangerous, like the air before a storm.

Tanaka stiffens. “M-Mikey-”

“I said,” Mikey repeats calmly, “say that again. About me being dead weight.”

Tanaka swallows. “I-I just meant-”

“And about my partner,” Mikey adds, tilting his head, smile not reaching his eyes. “Say that part again.”

The room has gone silent. Everyone is watching now.

You stand quickly, stepping between them before this becomes a disciplinary hearing… or a funeral.

“Mikey,” you say, lightly pushing at his chest. “It’s fine.”

He looks at you, expression shifting, the hard edge softening immediately.

“Is it?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say firmly. “Because we’re going to get a better score than him anyway. Right?”

You hold his gaze, willing him to drop it.

There’s a beat of tense silence.

Then Mikey smiles again, genuinely this time. “Right.”

He looks over your head at Tanaka, expression mild but eyes still icy.

“You heard her,” he says. “We’re gonna beat you. So maybe focus on your own project and stop talking shit about mine.”

Tanaka bobbles his head in a frantic nod and retreats like his life depends on it.

You exhale slowly.

Mikey watches Tanaka go, then looks back at you. “You okay?”

You blink. “I should be asking you that.”

He snorts. “That guy’s annoying, but I don’t care what he says about me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then why did you get mad?”

At you, the smile turns softer. “He doesn’t get to talk about you like that.”

Something in your chest flips over.

You look away fast, shoving your notebook into your bag with more force than necessary. “Whatever. Just… don’t start a fight over me.”

He hums thoughtfully. “What if I finish a fight over you?”

“Mikey.”

“I’m kidding,” he says, laughing. Then, quieter, “Kind of.”

You should be exasperated.

You are.

You’re also weirdly, stupidly touched.

------

You’re at Draken’s shop again.

It’s late, the sky outside fading into navy, streetlights flickering on one by one. The shop smells like oil and metal and something faintly sweet from the bakery down the road.

The others have cleared out already, leaving you, Mikey, and Draken.

You’re hunched over the workbench, index cards spread out, scribbling last-minute notes. Mikey is perched on a stool, swinging his legs, reciting his part of the presentation under his breath.

“Post-war reforms… aimed to decentralize economic power and-”

“-and weaken the Zaibatsu conglomerates,” you prompt.

He snaps his fingers. “Right. Those guys.”

“You’re getting it,” you say, genuinely impressed.

“Only ‘cause my teacher’s so scary,” he says lightly.

“I’m not your teacher.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Draken walks by, towel over his shoulder. “He giving you trouble?”

“No more than usual,” you say.

“Hey,” Mikey protests.

Draken chuckles, ruffling his hair. “Can’t believe you got him to study. You’re a miracle worker.”

You shrug, pretending that doesn’t make you a little proud. “Bribery helps.”

Mikey grins. “She makes really good snacks.”

“Is that so?” Draken looks intrigued. “You bringing any next time?”

“There’s not going to be a next time,” you say quickly. “The project is tomorrow.”

Both of them look at you.

Mikey’s smile falters just a fraction.

“Oh,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, waving it off. “Just thought we’d keep… y’know. Hanging out.”

Your heart does a weird, wobbly thing.

You look down at your cards. “We can still hang out. It doesn’t have to be for a project.”

The silence that follows feels heavier than it should.

When you peek up, Mikey is staring at you with a look you haven’t seen before, something open and almost vulnerable.

“…Yeah?” he asks quietly.

You swallow. “Yeah.”

The corner of his mouth lifts slowly, like the sun rising. “Then I’ll do extra good tomorrow.”

You snort. “That’s not how that works.”

“Sure it is,” he says. “If I do good, sensei won’t yell, and you’ll be in a good mood, and then you’ll wanna see me again.”

“You’re so sure of yourself.”

“Aren’t I right?”

You want to say no.

You don’t.

Instead, you shake your head and shove your stack of cards at him. “Again. From the top.”

He groans dramatically, but obeys.

As he stumbles through the first sentence, you catch Draken watching the two of you from across the room, a knowing little half-smile on his face.

You ignore him.

Or try to.

------

You’re packing up later when you realize you’ve been at the shop for hours.

You stretch, your spine popping, and wince. “Ow.”

“You okay?” Mikey asks.

“Just stiff,” you say. “Too much sitting.”

“Here,” he says.

Before you can ask what he’s doing, he steps behind you and places his hands gently on your shoulders. His thumbs press into the muscles at the base of your neck, kneading.

You go rigid.

“Mikey, what are you-”

“Relax,” he says softly. “Just a bit.”

You consider protesting. You really do.

Then his thumbs find a knot and press just right, and your eyes flutter shut against your will.

“See?” he murmurs. “You work too hard.”

“You study too little,” you mumble.

He laughs quietly, warm breath brushing your ear. “We balance each other out.”

It’s alarmingly intimate, standing here in the quiet of the shop with his hands on you, his chest a solid presence at your back. Your heartbeat picks up, loud in your own ears.

“Okay,” you say abruptly, stepping forward out of his hold. “That’s enough. We should go. It’s late.”

He lets his hands drop but doesn’t look offended. If anything, his smile turns softer. “I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he says simply.

You sigh, defeated. “Fine.”

You walk side by side under the streetlights, shadows stretching long behind you. The night is cool, city noises distant.

“So,” he says eventually, hands clasped behind his head, eyes on the sky. “What are you gonna do after this project? Keep being top of the class? Get some fancy job?”

“Maybe,” you say. “I just… want options. I don’t want to be stuck.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Makes sense.”

“What about you?” you ask, curious. “You ever think about that? Your future?”

He shrugs. “Not really. I’ll take care of Toman. Take care of everyone. That’s enough for me.”

You look at him.

His profile is lit by the streetlamp, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He looks younger like this, softer, but there’s a weight in his eyes that’s older than either of you.

“You’re already taking care of everyone,” you say quietly.

He glances at you, surprised, then smiles. “Yeah. Guess so.”

You reach your building too soon.

He stops at the bottom of the steps, rocking on his heels. “So. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echo. “Don’t be late.”

He puts a hand to his heart. “I’d never.”

You give him a look.

He laughs, waves, and turns away.

You watch his back grow smaller down the street, oddly reluctant to go inside.

You only move when he glances back once, catches you still staring, and grins.

You absolutely do not slam the door quickly after that.

-----

You’re nervous.

You’ll never admit it out loud, but your fingers fidget with the edge of your index cards as groups go up one by one. Your leg bounces under the desk.

Mikey, on the other hand, looks… relaxed.

Too relaxed.

He’s leaning back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head, eyes half-closed like he’s about to nap.

“Mikey,” you hiss. “Stay awake.”

“M’awake,” he mumbles.

You jab him in the arm with your pen. “Our turn is next.”

He cracks one eye open, looks at you, and smiles. “Don’t worry. I got this.”

You do not feel less worried.

“Next group,” sensei calls, looking at his list. “Sano and (Last Name).”

You stand, smoothing your uniform, heart thudding.

Mikey ambles up beside you, hands in his pockets, completely unbothered. When you reach the front, he casually leans down and mutters, “Hey.”

“What,” you whisper back.

“If I mess up,” he says with a grin, “you’ll fix it, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Just read the cards.”

He laughs and turns to the class.

You start.

You introduce your topic, voice more steady than you feel. You’ve done this a hundred times in your head, practiced your lines, your pauses. It comes easily.

Then it’s Mikey’s turn.

He takes his card.

Your heart stops.

He looks at it.

Then looks up.

There’s a beat where you’re terrified he’s going to say something completely off-topic. Or blank. Or walk out.

Instead, he says, clear and confident:

“One of the major goals of the post-war economic reforms was to break up the power of the zaibatsu, big corporations that controlled a lot of Japan’s economy before the war.”

The class blinks.

He continues, warming up.

“By doing this, the government wanted to stop too much power from being in the hands of a few families. That way, more people could compete in the market, and the economy would be more stable.”

He glances at you.

You nod subtly.

He relaxes, shoulders loosening.

“It’s kinda like… if one gang controlled all the turf in Tokyo,” he goes on, casual but surprisingly articulate. “It looks strong, but if anything happens to that one gang, everything falls apart. But if there are more groups, spread out, the whole thing doesn’t crumble so easy.”

There’s a ripple of laughter around the room, but not mocking. Intrigued.

You hide a smile.

He just did what you’ve been doing for days, connected it to his world, his rules, so it makes sense.

You finish the final part of the presentation together. He doesn’t freeze once. When he falters, you pick up the sentence. When you blank for a moment, he jumps in with an example. It’s… smooth.

It’s weird how easy it is to talk when he’s next to you.

At the end, there’s a small pause.

Then, unexpectedly, your classmates start clapping.

Not just polite taps.

Actual, impressed applause.

Your teacher looks like he might cry again.

“T-that was very good,” he says, visibly moved. “Clear, engaging, excellent use of examples. I’m… pleasantly surprised.”

Mikey beams.

You exhale, tension draining out of your shoulders.

You catch Tanaka’s expression in the back, sour and begrudgingly impressed, and fight the urge to smirk at him.

You and Mikey return to your seats. Your legs feel a little wobbly.

“That was fun,” Mikey whispers once you’re seated.

“You’re insane,” you whisper back. “You just freestyled half of that.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You can’t argue with that.

When grades are posted later, you see it.

Top score.

You stare at the number for a full five seconds.

Then, involuntarily, you grin.

A hand appears next to yours, ruffling your hair from behind.

“See?” Mikey crows. “Told you we’d beat that guy.”

You swat his hand away, but you’re still smiling. “You did good.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am,” you say honestly. “In a good way.”

He tilts his head, eyes crinkling. “Then I’m happy.”

You look up at him, about to say something more, something like you really tried or thank you, but sensei shuffles by then, clearing his throat.

“Sano,” he says, hesitant. “I, ah. I hope to see more of this… effort from you. In the future.”

Mikey scratches his cheek. “No promises, sensei.”

Your teacher deflates.

“But,” Mikey adds, glancing at you, “I might show up sometimes. If my partner’s here.”

Sensei blinks.

You choke. “I’m not your-”

“Thank you for your hard work,” sensei says to you quickly, like you’re the only thing standing between his sanity and collapse. “Truly. You’ve done a great job.”

You bow politely, murmuring a thank you, and then you’re dragged away by Mikey’s hand on your sleeve.

-----

You end up outside the school gate without really meaning to. One moment you’re packing your bag, the next you’re being herded along by Mikey’s unstoppable momentum.

He finally stops under a tree just beyond the gate, where the street is quieter. The afternoon sun filters through the leaves, dappling his face with light.

“So,” he says.

“So,” you echo.

He rocks on his heels, hands in his pockets, looking at you with a brightness that makes your chest warm. “We make a pretty good team.”

Your lips twitch. “Apparently.”

“Top score,” he reminds you.

“I can read.”

He laughs.

Then, suddenly, he sobers a little.

“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight. “You know how you came to get your partner back from the dead?”

“He wasn’t dead, just truant.”

“Same thing,” he says with a shrug. “Anyway. I was thinking.”

You cross your arms. “Dangerous.”

He ignores that. “I don’t really care about school stuff. You know that.”

“I picked up on it, yeah.”

“But.” He pauses, looking at you. Really looking. “I liked this. Doing something with you. Building it together. Watching you get all serious and bossy.”

You feel your face heat. “That’s not-”

“It is,” he insists, grin tugging at his lips, then softens. “You worked really hard. For both of us. No one’s ever done that for me. Not like that.”

You blink.

Something in your chest squeezes painfully.

“You’re important to me,” he says simply. “So I was thinking…”

He steps closer.

Your back bumps lightly against the tree trunk. You didn’t even realize you’d moved.

He’s close now, close enough that you can see the flecks of brown in his dark eyes, the way his lashes cast little shadows. His smile is smaller, more genuine than the lazy grins he shows everyone else.

“…You should keep being my partner,” he finishes.

You swallow. “For… school?”

“For everything,” he says, without missing a beat.

Your heart stutters.

“Mikey-”

“I mean,” he goes on, eyes darting briefly to your mouth before snapping back up, “you can yell at me when I skip class. Drag me to the library. Make me snacks. I’ll walk you home. Scare off annoying guys. You know. Partner stuff.”

“That’s not what partner stuff means,” you say weakly.

He hums. “It is if I say so.”

You stare at him.

The worst part is that he sounds… sincere. Like in his own skewed, simple way, this is how he says I want you around and I like you and don’t go anywhere.

Your throat feels tight all of a sudden.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, but it comes out softer than you intend.

He leans in just a fraction more, eyes flicking over your face. “Is that a no?”

You hesitate.

You think about the first day, staring at that cursed partner list, cursing whatever fate married your grade to a delinquent myth. You think about the parking lot, the shrine, the Toman hangout. About textbooks and dorayaki and late-night walks home.

About the way he stood between you and a rude classmate like it was nothing.

About the way he looked when he thought you might not want to see him after the project.

You exhale.

“It’s…” You lick your lips, nerves crackling under your skin. “It’s a maybe.”

He grins, bright and unstoppable. “I can work with maybe.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“You didn’t say no,” he counters.

You open your mouth, then close it.

He laughs, delighted, and in that moment, caught between annoyance and fondness, you slip.

“If you want me to keep being your partner,” you say, trying to sound stern and failing, “you have to promise to show up. At least sometimes. I refuse to be seen as the person dating a ghost.”

You freeze.

He freezes.

You replay your own words in your head.

Dating.

You want to sink into the ground.

Mikey’s smile does something oddly slow. It softens, widens, shifts into something you’ve never quite seen on him before, something almost reverent.

“Dating, huh?” he says, voice a little hoarse with poorly concealed glee. “You thinking that far already?”

“I- That’s not what I meant-”

He steps even closer, bracing one hand against the tree trunk near your head, caging you in without touching. His face is only inches from yours now.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Look at me.”

You do, helplessly.

His gaze is steady. His voice drops.

“If we were dating,” he says slowly, “would you let me do this?”

He leans in, close enough that his forehead brushes yours, that you can feel his breath fan across your lips. He doesn’t close the distance completely. Just hovers there, waiting, asking.

Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can feel it.

You could push him away.

You don’t.

“…Maybe,” you whisper.

His eyes flicker, satisfaction flashing through them.

Then he pulls back half an inch and taps your forehead gently with his own, like a soft little headbutt.

“Okay,” he says, and somehow his smile is even warmer. “I’ll earn it.”

“You… what?”

“The right to do more ‘dating stuff,’” he says matter-of-factly. “If my partner wants it.”

You’re certain your brain has melted.

He straightens up finally, hands sliding back into his pockets, expression turning playful again.

“Until then,” he says, voice light, “I’ll settle for this.”

He reaches down and takes your hand.

Your fingers slot into his like they’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your brain short-circuits again.

“Mikey-”

“Walk me home,” he says with a grin. “Partner.”

You should say that’s backwards.

You don’t.

You just let him tug you along, your joined hands swinging between you, the late afternoon sun warm on your backs.

[makies]

“ RAGING TEENAGE HORMONES ” — w Tokyo Revengers !

What’s wrong with some teenage fantasies?

ft. Mikey, Rindou, Chifuyu, Sanzu, Kakucho, Draken

SANO MANJIRO — Having you hunt his beloved sleep is exhausting. He couldn’t even sleep a wink without you appearing in his dreams. It would’ve been fine if it were simple dreams of you guys hanging out — but his wet sheets, boxers and flaming up in his sleep — you are hunting him.

Emma’s best friend is staying for the night — you are staying for a sleepover. That’s what mikey heard.

Well, you sleeping over at their house wasn’t the problem at all. It’s you — following Emma, walking around in your sleeping gown as if it’s your house.

“Ngh.. gahhh”

“Shh… My family might hear you..” Mikey whispered, hushing you, fixing the way he sits on the bed before giving you a peck on your breast, his hips buckling up — deeper, to feel your heat.

He lifts your night gown just slightly above your waist, his hands holding your waist to keep them up. His dull, black orbs landed below, looking at how his manhood was swallowed by you completely.

His compact yet powerful arms slightly raised you up, just enough before the tip of his shaft detached from you. Lazily, he lets you fall down, releasing a groan. You felt a tap from your behind, Mikey signaling you to move for your pleasures.

You locked eyes with him, a hand placing on his puffy cheeks, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”

“Shit.” He cursed out, burying his face on your chest. Dick throbbing as he releases warm, thick liquid inside you. It was as good as a dream.

“Mikey, wake up! It’s time to eat!”

Woke up heading straight to the bathroom w his sheets in his hands. It’ll go on for days, even when you’re not around.

Emma will be worried and ask him to get his bladder checked thinking it’s just him peeing on his bed

His dreams always includes you doing the first move, telling him how much you love him — his cock and how you wanted him for a long time cuz deep inside that’s how he wants you to act in front of him :P

HAITANI RINDOU and his brother are greatly into fashion. They often attend fashion shows in VIP rooms with a drink in hand — watching to recruit their possibly new designers or models.

And a fashion show with beautiful females are a dream come true for a teenage boy — especially w the swimsuit runaways

“Have dinner with me.” The young boy asked — more like commanded, looking at your taller figure. You’ll say yes, he knows it. You can’t decline, they run the whole roppongi after all.

Him tracing those beautifully curved spine after a good drink of an expensive wine in a bar, your face buried on his pillows, releasing muffles whilst he ram his cock in your cunt.

Groping your huge circle cheeks below, spreading them wide; spitting on your ass hole as watch it slowly falls on your slit — his thrust keeping its speed. slow but deep.

“You like that, yeah?” He’ll ask.

“I want this ass only for my eyes. Okay, pretty?”

With enough slap in your ass, you’ll definitely understand him. He’ll keep you for his sole pleasure alone, a model of his own.

“Sure. Maybe in a few more years. Who knows, I might even let you hit.”

You ended up declining him and leaving him in his thoughts — he didn’t even chase for you, he was left there in a daze. He’s a spoiled child who hasn’t received a no after all. Will not tell Ran about you nor his perverted thoughts. Will forever be embarrassed he got declined.

Honestly thought it was easy to get a girl. His brother made it look so easy.

Will come and find you years later to do every fantasies he has thought of you. Back shot, missionary, cowgirl, sixty-nine — whatever it is, you’ll be doing it in a day.

CHIFUYU MATSUNO who finally got a nerd girlfriend — going out on their first date, finally seeing his nerdy girlfriend fix and tidy up herself just for him got his blood running.

You weren’t wearing anything revealing at all — It was just all on him. Maybe he got a little too excited on your first date?

“hah”

The blonde threw his head back, toes curling, as he releases heavy breaths. His hands aggressively oscillating between the tip and the end of his shaft.

*Ting*

The boy halted, his freehand took the phone from the nightstand whilst keeping the other hand holding his manhood; his thumb playing with the pinkish tip of his cock, flushing red from the forceful abuse.

Jgh, booboobear !! I can’t wait to see you again.

Sent a photo.

Oh, heaven, you look so damn perfect. He caught his lower lip beneath his upper teeth, closing his lids, “Oh, fuck.” He cursed out, looking at your photo as he cries your name in between breaths.

Who knew chifuyu was this perverted?

Would be so awkward facing you again. He’ll avoiding you and your gazed for 3 days bcs of his conscience !!Will ask you for more of your update photos next time just so he could jack off of you >>

SANZU HARUCHIYO go low for his devotion for Mikey.

He’d go stealing your panties when he heard from Baji that Mikey also likes you — also, meaning he also thinks you’re so cool even if you don’t how to fight; but kept on denying it knowing you’re Mikey’s possession already. His boss is his priority after all.

Going that low to steal your panties for the boss but ended keeping them and using it for his own instead. Surely, he can get another for Mikey, right?

*Snfffttttt*

Sanzu took a deep breath, head throwing back, hitting the interior of his room’s door with your undergarments in between his palm and nose, inhaling your feminine smell.

You smell so fucking great — it’s as if he’s getting high. It makes him so damn excited; blood rushing through his body.

His eyes fell to the clothed budge on his lower body — cock throbbing, hurting from too much hardness. Holding the panties with his teeth, his hands took off his lower clothing, releasing his massive erection.

A groan in pleasure came out on the young adult’s mouth from the sudden contact of his hardened shaft to his abdomen. A hand reached for the underwear once more — eyes rolling back after sniffling the pleasant smell. His free hand made its way to his throbbing erection, gently stroking the hard rock cock.

“Ahhhhh, fuckkk..”

You’re so fucking addictive — more addictive than a damn drug.

Would definitely snoop in your room to steal more undergarments when the fragrance from the old one he’s using is gone. ( and will forget that he even started this addiction for Mikey )

He’d always be hard in your presence — when you’re passing by — smelling your perfume — he’d have perverted thoughts of you every time he sees you.

KAKUCHO HITTO having you as his childhood friend in the orphanage with izana, a person whom he used to sleeps together in the same bed.

One day, you caught a cold; and the thin blanket from the orphanage isn’t helping. Izana suggested that Kakucho should warm you up — the black haired latter also agreed knowing his intentions are pure. They were. Or they used to.

“Kakucho?” You called out to Kakucho who’s hugging you from behind. He was quiet — awfully at that.

“Are you asleep?” Again, you called out, about to look behind to face the young man; but, were abruptly halted when his muscular arms pulled you closer.

“I…Isn’t it a bit too hot?” He finally spoke.

“No, It’s fine. Thank you so much, Kakucho. I’ll take a bathroom break, okay? Stay here for me.”

You pushed yourself out of the mattress, sitting up and looking sideways to take a glimpse of Kakucho whose eyes are closed, flushed red, sweating too much.

“Oh no, did you catch my cold?” You asked, leaning towards Kakucho and placing the back of your hand on his forehead. “Thank God you’re not that hot.” You said, leaving the young man on the bed.

Yes, thank God. Thank God you finally left.

Kakucho took a weary breath, pulling the blanket above his shoulders and placing a pillow between his arms.

Calm yourself.

He thought to himself, but the thought of you — placed in between his arms; so small, something that he could manhandle so easily — and your sweet fragrance that still lingers on the pillow he’s hugging is getting his blood pumping.

Brain fogged, Kakucho slowly placed pressure between him and the pillow — his hardened cock, aching to receive some friction. He’s so dirty minded, the guilt will surely eat him later.

“Kakucho?”

You’d ask him why he’s so covered up while burning up from the heat, taking a bath from his own sweat. He’d make up excuses, saying he’s just warming himself up for you; literally, a loyal dog in heat.

RYUUGUJI KEN with his infinite patience and understanding would admit he had teenage boners from you but with pure, clean, genuine intentions. Instead of thinking something perverted — naughty, he’d have thoughts of you having his children, taking care of them, carrying them from your belly to your slender arms.

Draken fixed his oversized white t-shirt, pulling it from the hem to make it lower; hiding his erected length. He watches you as you stood in front of him, lending a hand to the children who tripped on the sidewalk on your way home.

You’ve always been good with kids; one of the things ryuuguji ken likes about you. He imagine you being such a good mother — starting a family with you.

Him showing you his massaging skill, giving you relief every time your back hurts from carrying his child. He’s sure, you’ll look so damn pretty with his child in your belly.

He’s willing to serve you wholeheartedly. You only need to stay by his side, take his sperms — I mean, children; and he’d give you his whole world. But you should dirty talk him some times, and

Maybe he’d also like the process of making it.

@makies all rights reserved. Please refrain from reproducing, translating, adapting, or redistributing this work without prior permission

TOKYO REVENGERS LIST — Read more of the author’s work

[reissancesstuff]

Can I please get something with someone talking about going after Kanto Mikey’s oblivious but sweet girlfriend. Dark impulse activated. 🔪

“say that again.”

kanto manjiro sano (mikey) x fem!reader

warnings: dark impulse mikey, possessiveness, threats

you don’t hear it.

but mikey does.

the moment it slips past the guy’s lips—careless, playful, stupid—something in him stills.

he was just a shadow in the back of the room a second ago. quiet. unreadable.

but now?

now he’s listening.

"—you seen that girl mikey’s always with? real cute. wonder if she’s as sweet in bed as she looks on his arm."

someone chuckles.

someone else whistles.

"bet she wouldn’t mind a guy who actually knows how to smile. mikey always looks half-dead. think she’d let me—"

crack.

the guy doesn't finish the sentence.

because mikey’s chair scrapes back slow. deliberate.

and the next sound is the sharp, ugly thud of knuckles slamming bone.

you weren’t even in the room.

but he heard it.

you—his soft little girl who still thinks the world is kind.

who wears his hoodie like it’s armor.

who doesn’t know half the shit he’s done just to keep that smile on your face safe.

you would’ve smiled at the guy if he approached you.

probably would’ve been nice. too nice. that’s just who you are.

but mikey knows what guys like that mean.

and now?

so does he.

the guy’s on the floor. blood in his mouth. gasping.

“what the hell, man?! it was just a joke!”

mikey’s voice is low. flat. too calm.

but his eyes? his eyes are pitch black.

“say it again.”

his foot comes down, hard, right beside the guy’s head.

“go on,” he whispers. “you were brave enough a second ago. finish the joke.”

silence.

everyone in the room holds their breath.

mikey crouches down—slow, almost casual. and when he speaks, it’s still soft.

“you think you can look at her like that? think you can talk about her like she’s something you can take?”

he tilts his head. the corner of his lip twitches—not a smile.

“you think you can walk out of here with your tongue still in your mouth?”

he laughs then. quietly.

“nah.”

a pause. a hum.

“you don’t get to want her. you don’t get to see her. you don’t even get to say her name.”

and then he leans in real close, whispers—

“you ever breathe in her direction again, i’ll bury you before sunset.”

his fist tightens.

but before he can throw another punch, his phone buzzes.

it’s a text.

you: what time r u coming over? i miss u

he reads it.

his expression softens instantly. like someone flipped a switch.

he pockets the phone. stands. straightens his hoodie.

then he turns his back on the room—on the guy still bleeding on the floor—and walks off like none of it ever happened.

later that night, you greet him with sleepy eyes and open arms. you don’t ask why he smells like cigarette smoke and dust. you just press a kiss to his cheek and murmur, “missed you.”

and he pulls you into his chest. breathes you in.

like you’re his only tether to the earth.

because you are.

and you’ll never know what it took to keep it that way.

[anisespice]

" super star " — manjiro sano

“Boss, I have those reports you requested.” 

MIKEY barely lifted his gaze to acknowledge the subordinate, lazily chewing on his snack as he gestured to the desk. “Leave it there.” 

“Yessir.” The subordinate bowed, approaching urgently only to stop shortly after upon getting a closer look at the platinum blonde, seeing something rather unusual. “Oh. Uh, Boss? You got a little…something.”

His low gaze cut to him like an unsheathed blade. “Er…N-Nevermind.” 

Mikey stared up until he stiffly marched out without another word. His eyebrow raised up a tick. Weird. Brushing it off, he merely refocused on the task at hand. The important one. The one that mattered most. 

“Papa, blue one,” his daughter held up her hand, expectant. Mikey didn’t miss a beat, handing over the crayon. He watched as she scribbled all over the top half of the page, “Sky, Papa.” 

“Mm. Clouds, too?” 

“Mm!” She nodded, making sure to leave gaps to represent the fluffy mounds. Her tongue poked out in concentration, stopping and holding it up to the light to assess her work, then setting it back down to resume scribbling. Mikey felt the corner of his mouth lift. 

It drops instantly at the sound of the door opening. “Boss.” 

“Someone better be dead or dying.” Mikey coldly muttered, reaching over to gently nudge the crayon from the little one’s mouth, followed by a soft, “Don’t eat that.” He handed her the rest of the snack he’d been munching on before looking over to his approaching advisors. 

Kakucho paused. As did Ran, who fought back a snort. 

Mikey looked between them. “What.” 

The former cleared his throat, while the latter struggled to hold it together. “Have you seen yourself recently?” 

“What kind of question is that?” 

“I mean…” His eyes flit over to the child happily coloring, then back at him. “She’s certainly tapped into her creative side as of late. Drawing on the walls, handprints all on the windows, and…” Kakucho vaguely gestured. Mikey’s brow twitched, irritation simmering. 

“Spit it out.” 

“The world is her canvas, s’all I’m saying."

"Including your face.” Kakucho side-eyed the lavender-haired man for the comment before shaking his head. 

The platinum blonde blinked. His face? He slowly reached up to feel around the skin, and sure enough. Stickers. Several, in fact. Two on the cheek, one near his eyebrow, forehead and his chin. He peeled one off and looked at it, the word ‘Super!’ staring back at him. “Oh.” 

Looking at his daughter, she continued to color without much care for the conversation happening. Much like her father, her selective hearing was strong. Mikey sighed, “Little menace. Must’ve got me when I was–I mean we were napping. Oi.” 

She looked up at him upon his call, head tilted curiously. All three executives felt a pang in their chest at the devastatingly adorable sight. Mikey steeled himself, attempting to look stern as he presented the sticker. “Wanna explain?” 

Her little brows scrunched in thought. After a brief moment, she beamed as she pointed at him, “Papa, super! Gave stickers, like Mama!” 

Confusion colored his expression until it dawned on him. You’re a school teacher, or were one. Currently you are on maternity leave, cooking her up a baby brother. However, your teaching persona would come out at home, disciplining or rewarding with the same methods, such as stickers. You had a whole tub of school supplies, overflowing with those in particular. And evidently, the little troublemaker had been snooping around in it. 

Unable to hold the stern facade any longer, Mikey offered a small, but rare–Well, rare for his colleague–smile. With a huff, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead before placing the star sticker to the spot, earning him a gleeful giggle in return; the best reward. Ruffling her hair, Mikey spoke with warmth, “I think you’re super.” 

“No, you are!” 

“No, you are,” he parroted, poking her nose. It scrunched up immediately, sending another dreadful pang in his chest. Good thing you were already pregnant with baby number two, otherwise there would be nothing stopping him from ditching work to get on that ASAP. 

The third-in-command cleared his throat. Mikey's smile drops for the second time. “Apologies. We have our meeting with the shareholders in twenty. Sanzu is ready with the car, and the Haitanis agreed to watch over the young miss while we’re gone.” 

“Wouldn’t say we agreed, but beats sitting in on that bullshit.” 

“Watch your mouth.” Mikey warned. “She repeats any of that at home, I’m telling [____] it’s your fault.” 

“Snitching on me to the teacher? That’s low, Boss.” 

“Please don’t take advantage of his good mood.” Kakucho exasperated, rubbing his temple. Ran conceded with a shrug, lowering to level with the little one.

“Alright, mini Boss, you're comin' with uncle Ran. Let’s go make uncle Rin your next masterpiece.”

Her eyes light up brighter than before, if possible. “Mm!” Dropping her crayons, she pushed herself off the ground to toddle over to the eldest Haitani. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Turning to Mikey, she rushes to him and falls into his arms for a hug. “Buh-bye, Papa! Wub you!” 

Mikey startled a little but soon relaxed, still getting used to the onslaught of affection she was so full of; seeing so much of you in her everyday. He patted her head, “Me too, sweetheart.” 

“Stickers stay on?” She peered at him, hopeful. 

He stiffened. Opening his mouth to protest, the words turn to ash in his mouth at her pleading gaze. With a sigh, he gave a resigned nod. “I’ll keep them on all day. Promise.” 

Ran and Kakucho exchanged a glance. 

—

Murderers, traffickers, scum of the earth alike couldn’t believe their eyes. 

Colorful stickers, some big and some small, littered across the lethal leader’s face like the inside of a child’s school book. And he sat there. Unperturbed. Unbothered. Unashamed. 

Because who’s gonna check a crashout who loves his kid? 

© 2026-2027 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[ceristelle]

can i request tokyo revengers mikey or mitsuya (whoever you prefer!) being protective of reader… literally any scenario like that is always so good

MINE TO PROTECT : s. manjiro

— when someone crosses a line with you, mikey reminds them why no one in toman dares to.

the parking lot behind musashi shrine was dimly lit by flickering streetlights. mikey had ordered a toman meeting late as always, and practically whined for you to go with him since he always likes to be close to you.

however, you eventually got bored and only stepped away from the toman meeting for a minute—just to get some air—when one of the newer members, some cocky third-year who didn’t know better, cornered you.

he smirked, leaning in way too close. “what’s a cute thing like you doing hanging around mikey all the time? you his pet or something?”

“no. because he’s my boyfriend, dumbass.”

as soon as those words left your lips, you slapped him across the face harsher than you meant. or no, you fully meant to do that.

but it’s obvious he did not like that very much.

“what the hell—?” clutching his cheek, the male looked back to face you again, a sadistic gleam lighting up his eyes. “oh, you’re going to regret ever doin’ th—”

just as he was about to grab your arm, a chilling voice cut through the night.

“say that again.”

manjiro stepped out of the shadows like he belonged to them. his usual lazy, sleepy expression was gone. in its place was something ice-cold, almost dead—the mikey that even provoked fear in the strongest delinquents.

the guy’s entire demeanor changed instantly, displaying an apologetic look as he laughed nervously. “c’mon, mikey, i was just joking—”

mikey didn’t raise his voice. he didn’t need to. in a second, he grabbed the bastard by the collar and slammed him against the concrete with terrifying strength. his dark eyes were empty, devoid of any warmth.

“you touched what’s mine,” mikey said lowly. “you disrespected them. in front of me.” his grip tightened, dragging the guy’s weight around.

“i don’t care if you’re new. i don’t care if you’re strong. no one touches them. no one looks at them the wrong way, not even think about it.” mikey’s voice dropped even lower.

“or i’ll make sure you never think again.”

you stepped forward, gently placing a hand on your boyfriend’s arm. “mikey…it’s okay. he got what he deserves already.”

“don’t be killing the guy now, mikey.” draken walked up behind him with a sigh, but didn’t pull the shorter male away. a few others were gathered nearby too. all of them knew that tone. and knew what happened when mikey got protective.

he didn’t let go of the guy immediately. but after a long, suffocating silence, he finally released his grip, leaving the other one crumpled to the ground, gasping.

the blonde turned to you, and just like that—the intimidating aura vanished. his expression softened completely as he reached out to cup your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks with a tenderness that left the others shocked at how different their leader looked right now.

“no one touches you,” he murmured into your hair, quiet enough that only you could hear. “not while i’m here. you’re mine to protect.”

“you alright?” he asked softly. “did he hurt you?” “no,” you shook your head. “more like i hurt him instead.” mikey studied your face for another second, then tugged you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

he pressed a light kiss to the top of your head, then glanced back at the trembling guy with dead eyes.

“consider this your only warning.”

mikey took your hand and walked away without another word, the leader of tokyo manji’s gang making it very clear to everyone watching; you were untouchable.

[wnapelolaiss]

How ToMan reacts to you in lingerie

cw: NSFW, lingerie, suggestive content, mild sexual touching, teasing, possessive behavior, established relationships, implied intimacy.

The ToMan boys react to you modeling lingerie for them — flustered stares, bold comments, and reactions that range from soft admiration to dangerous temptation…

Featuring: Mikey, Baji, Mitsuya, Draken, Kazutora, Smiley, Angry, Chifuyu, Inui, Takemichi, Ran, Rindo & Izana.

Keisuke Baji

—You want me to sit there and just watch you model lingerie for me?—he asked, arms crossed. You nodded, watching him raise his eyebrows.

—Yes —you saw him make a face.

—No, hell no. For your own good, it’s better if you give your own opinion about them —he turned around and walked out of the room. Just like that.

—Well, your loss —you sang as you headed to the bathroom to change. If you knew your boyfriend well enough, then he’d be outside waiting even if he had refused.

When you came out, you confirmed it, letting out a small laugh.

Half of his body was inside the room. He had his mouth pressed against the back of his hand against the doorframe, most likely biting it. When he saw you step out of the bathroom wearing the burgundy velvet set, his eyes swept over your body from top to bottom.

—What do you think?—you spun around in place so he could see the full details of the back. Baji tilted his head further to the side, leaning more into the room to take a closer look.

—Shit, why do you do this to me?—the boy let out a huff and began muttering under his breath.

Manjiro Sano

Your boyfriend’s eyes couldn’t have been any wider. Neither could his mouth.

—How does it look on me? —you adjusted the straps of your panties and gave yourself a slow, complete turn. When you stayed with your back to him for a few seconds, Mikey let out a small squeak to himself, unable to believe how good you looked at that moment.

You stood in front of him again, his gaze was anywhere but on your eyes.

—Wait… I didn’t see well, turn around again —you smiled at his audacity and spun around once more in your place so he could get a better look at the set.

—And…?—you asked, looking at him face to face again. By this point Mikey had his hand against his mouth, his eyes moving quickly from top to bottom, completely stunned.

—It’s pretty—that was the only thing he let out, his voice sounding almost painful.

Takashi Mitsuya

—You’re good at these things, so be honest and don’t say it looks nice just because you like me, okay?—Mitsuya looked at you and nodded, completely firm—. great, wait for me right here outside.

—Anyway, I could make you a set myself —Mitsuya murmured to the air— And I’d be more than happy to take your measurements, _______.

You got dressed inside the bathroom quickly and came out after a while. The black set fit your body perfectly, the panties had two straps that wrapped around your hips; to be honest, it took you a little effort to put it on.

—Mhm… come here —Mitsuya adjusted himself in the chair, shifting his hips slightly and motioned for you with his hand.

Once you stood in front of him, he straightened up again and stretched his hands to the height of your panties, adjusting the straps over your hip bones. In that moment, he took the chance to touch the material with his fingers, tracing the edge slightly before pulling his hands away from you.

—It’s very pretty, and it fits you perfectly —he praised, forming a smile—. Though I still say I could make a much better one.

—So that means it’s not that nice?—you tried to tease him a little. Mitsuya let out a few small laughs, narrowing his eyes at the same time.

—I’m telling you it is very pretty—he wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you closer to him to leave a small kiss on your abdomen.

Ken Ryuguji

—Are you going to model for me?—Draken’s perverted expression appeared in an instant; you rarely saw that look on his face.

—Yup, so sit wherever you like and wait for me —you walked into the bathroom and started changing.

—Alright, I’ll wait here —you heard him say.

You came out of the bathroom and stood in front of him. The most surprised one was you; seeing him sitting in the middle of the couch with one arm stretched over the backrest and his heel resting over one of his knees gave you quite the view.

—What’s wrong? —Draken smiled, showing his bright teeth. You cleared your throat and coughed, nervous.

—Do you like it? —you stepped a little closer, somewhat nervous as you noticed his gaze more intense than ever, scanning you.

With his free hand, Draken motioned for you to turn around, moving his index finger in circles. You blinked a couple of times; he looked different in that facet.

You slowly spun in place, and when you were facing Draken again, your nerves grew even more. Without thinking, you brought your hands to your bra, adjusting it even though it hadn’t moved.

—It fits you perfectly—he admitted honestly, looking at your body. A nervous laugh escaped you, and you let out a small squeal when he stood up just to take your hand and pull you toward him.

Kazutora Hanemiya

—Is it my birthday or why such a gift?—you started laughing when you heard him say that. Kazutora was something else.

—I just need your opinion, so sit down if you want and wait here —you gave his chest a light shove and he fell back onto the couch. He didn’t get mad; instead, he slightly spread his legs to settle into the seat.

—God… you looked me in the eyes…—while you were getting dressed in the bathroom, you heard him thanking the heavens. He really was a case.

After putting on the white set, you stepped out of the bathroom and walked a little closer to him, keeping a safe distance.

—And? Is it nice?—you glanced down at the set and then lifted your gaze back to him. Kazutora froze in place.

—Fuck…—he leaned forward while still sitting, resting his elbows on his thighs. His eyes fixed on the upper fabric with determination before lowering to where the panties with small ruffles rested.

—Do you like it? —you bit your lip nervously when he didn’t say anything.

—You’d better take it off so I can see it better —you blushed completely at his shamelessness.

Souya Kawata

—I don’t think that’s a good idea… I’m terrible when it comes to clothes —the boy clarified right away.

—Shhh… you just have to tell me if it looks good on me or not —you stuck your head out of the bathroom and saw him standing in front of the couch, not doing anything yet— wait for me.

This time you had chosen to buy a pale pink set. It wasn’t your favorite color, but the set was simply majestic.

Completely made of lace. When you stepped out of the bathroom, you were adjusting the straps of your bra, so you didn’t see the way Angry lightly slapped his own cheek to focus.

—Wow —Angry let out.

—Do you like it?—you looked at him to see his reaction. Angry fidgeted with his hands, his eyes wandering over every inch of your skin. Without meaning to, he struggled to focus on the set itself.

—It’s… very pretty —he cleared his throat— It suits you really well, the color matches… your skin.

—See? Isn’t it nice?—you squealed excitedly and spun around in place— it has lace in the back too, I loved it.

—Yeah —Angry dropped back onto the couch when he finally saw the lace in the back— _______, please stop spinning around.

Chifuyu Matsuno

—I should be the one embarrassed, not you —you laughed at his behavior. The blond was completely flushed.

—I don’t know why you want me to see them… I’m a guy, I doubt my opinion will help you —Chifuyu tried at all costs to avoid seeing you in lingerie.

—It’ll be quick, I promise —you disappeared into the bathroom to change. You put on the set with very thin panties, all in black.

When you came out of the bathroom, you heard Chifuyu swallow.

—Look! How do I loo—

You stopped when you saw Chifuyu burying his face into a cushion on the couch. The expression on your face deepened when you saw him hitting his face with the cushion.

—Hey… stop hitting yourself —you walked over just to pull the cushion away from his face and place it behind your back. When Chifuyu lifted his gaze to you, he let out a yelp and covered his eyes with both hands—Oh come on, you’re old enough to not act like this.

—I’m still not used to it —he slightly parted his fingers and looked at the set through them.

—Is it nice?—you asked again.

—Yeah —he answered automatically. His eyes slowly roamed over what the set revealed— the color is nice.

—The color isn’t a big deal —you laughed at his reaction— look —you spun around in place so he could see it more fully.

—Holy Mother of God —he muttered in a whisper. When you faced him again, you saw him completely defeated against the back of the couch, this time without covering his face.— by any chance… do you have another set?

Nahoya Kawata

—This time you have to look at me —you told him as you walked into the bathroom.

—I swear I’ll look way too much —he promised, shouting.

You smiled at his enthusiasm and started putting on the dark set you had bought that same day. You tied the straps of the bra behind your neck and, after briefly checking yourself in the mirror, stepped out of the bathroom.

Nahoya let out a whistle.

—That’s my girl! —he stretched his hands out, calling you over to him.

—Is it nice?—you looked at the set with a bit of doubt. Smiley nodded several times. You stepped a little closer and, instead of giving an opinion, he turned you around in place. Once you were facing away from him, he pulled you against himself. You let out a small squeal as you ended up sitting on him without even processing it.

—The fabric is really good —he wrapped one arm around your waist, and his free hand slipped over your bra, cupping one of your breasts in his palm— good texture, the color’s nice, and the size is perfect.

—You’re just taking advantage to grope me—Smiley started laughing at his own shamelessness. He let go of the fabric of the bra and moved his hand behind your neck, undoing the knot.

—I don’t actually like it that much, let’s try another one—you slipped out of his embrace, holding the straps so the bra wouldn’t fall. Then you went back into the bathroom to keep modeling more sets for him.

Seishu Inui

—Are you trying to kill me with a heart attack?—the blond got startled when he heard your request. When you nodded at his question, he began to stutter.— Do I have to see you… myself?

—Yes, wait here —after grabbing a few new sets you had bought that morning, you hurried to the bathroom to try them on.

First, you put on a cute pastel-colored set. It had plenty of lace and gave you a very pretty shape. After looking at yourself in the mirror, slightly doubtful, you stepped out of the bathroom and stood in front of him.

Inui tried to look only at your eyes.

—But you have to look at the set —you smiled at the way he reacted.

—It’s not necessary, everything you wear looks amazing on you —his eyes hesitated, wanting to lower his gaze but doubting at the same time.

—But Inui, look at the damn set —you stepped closer to him to put him on the spot and force him to look at the set properly.

Inui lowered his gaze to the pale bra, focusing on every detail before letting it travel down to the panties. He leaned back and fully rested against the back of the bed, covering his face with both hands.

—You’re so fucking pretty —he muttered against his hands, covering his face and eyes.

Takemichi Hanagaki

Takemichi looked at you while scratching the back of his neck, his cheeks turning red.

—I…—you smiled at his awkwardness.— I…

—It’s better if you don’t say anything and just give your opinion about the set I’m going to show you, okay?—you turned around without waiting for an answer and walked into the bathroom with the lingerie bag in your hand. After putting on a lilac set, you came out with a bright smile on your face, completely excited.

—_______…—Takemichi called your name in a whisper.

—Is it nice?—Takemichi nodded several times, quickly.— Are you sure?

Takemichi couldn’t handle his blush anymore, but he nodded again, not wanting to look at your bare skin. In the end, though, he lost the battle. Your eyes dropped to the exposed skin, and he didn’t even try to hide the way he slapped his own cheeks.

—But…—you stopped when you saw him finally realize that he had to say something.

—You look beautiful, like an angel —you pouted when you heard him and hurried toward him to try to hug him.— oh no no no, no hugs, not now, at least not now.

You were confused at first, but when you looked down at yourself with barely any clothes on, you understood and started laughing softly at him.

Ran Haitani

—I’ll show you some new sets I bought yesterday —you lifted the bag in your hands and looked at Ran.

The one with braids started to form a mischievous smile. After slipping his hands into his pockets, he walked slowly toward you. His index finger hooked onto the edge of the bag as he peeked inside, looking at the different lace sets.

—I like that one —he pointed at a bright red one.

—Alright, I’ll start with that one then —as you turned to head to the bathroom, Ran grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

—Wait, you could put them on right here —you let out a laugh at how perverted that sounded.

—I’m only planning to show you the lingerie, Ran —you walked to the bathroom again, this time successfully. You decided to start with the one he chose, and after putting it on, you opened the door to step out.

Surprise; Ran was waiting for you right outside. He brought his hand to his mouth and whistled enthusiastically.

—Alright, give me a spin —your eyebrows arched.— it’s to look at it properly, relax.

Still standing inside the bathroom, you gave a full turn in place. Ran let out an almost shouted exclamation, whistled again, and his hands tried to touch the fabric on the lower part.

—Okay, okay, let me put on the other one —you pulled away laughing from his attempt to hug you and pull you closer.

—No, no, I’m sticking with that one, I like it —his hands stretched out again and hooked around your torso to pull you toward him.— You can model the others for me one each day, keep this little red one.

You rolled your eyes in amused annoyance. Ran took advantage of having you in his arms to slide his hands down to the lace waistband of your panties, moving it playfully as if he were going to pull it down. Even though he didn’t.

Rindo Haitani

—Are you going to model for me too?—Rindo looked at you over his glasses, one eyebrow slightly raised.

—Mmmm no.—you joked as you stepped into the bathroom. You decided to put on a very pretty white lingerie bodysuit. It had plenty of lace, so you couldn’t wait to see Rindo’s reaction.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you walked toward him with a smile clearly written across your face. Rindo’s gaze moved from your neck downward with full attention.

—Don’t you want to give me a little dance?—he asked, just in case you dared to. You shook your head, so Rindo straightened up slightly and sat closer to the edge of the couch, looking at you more intensely.

—Is it nice?—you asked this time, turning slightly from side to side so he could see the whole piece.

—Nope.—you made a face instantly.— I’m kidding, pretty.—Rindo started laughing when he saw how quickly your expression changed.

You grabbed a cushion from beside him and hit him in the face for playing that joke. A tug on your wrist made you fall onto Rindo, who burst out laughing at the situation. The nerves appeared instantly.

—You look very beautiful.—he admitted, gently caressing your hips. Rindo spent a long moment staring at the lace on the bust before speaking again.— Are you sure you can’t give me a little dance?

Izana Kurokawa

—And what would that be for?—you put on your best poker face when he asked you.

—What do you mean “what for”? I need your honest opinion.—you disappeared into the bathroom.— and don’t you dare leave.

As if you were Flash, you quickly put on the caramel-colored set. When you stepped out of the bathroom, the first thing you did was notice Izana’s somewhat astonished expression.

—Look, this is one of them.—you walked closer so he could see the small flowers on both parts of the set.— Do you like it?

—Ah.—that was all he said. You placed your hands on your hips and looked at him reproachfully; getting him to take something seriously was always a case.— Shit, let me focus.

Izana rubbed his eyes and looked at you again. He stretched both hands out and pulled you a little closer to him, still sitting against the couch. His large, rough hands settled on your hips at the level of the garment, touching it softly as if he actually knew what kind of fabric it was.

—Mhm —still holding you, he turned you around, placing you with your back to him.— this one is nice.—his finger hooked into the lace of your panties.

—Just nice?—to be honest, you were expecting more compliments.

—Yeah.—he turned you around again; you let out a small laugh at the way he handled you like a doll.— The bra, hmm.—he tugged your wrist slightly so you’d lean down toward him. His eyes carefully examined the pattern and color of the bra— yeah, the whole set is nice.

[littlepumpky]

“How they react when you getting flirted at” // Tokyo Revengers

Charakters: Mikey, Sanzu, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, Ran, Rindou, Izana, Hanma

Synopsis: It always happens the same way. You’re just minding your business — at work, at the bar, on the street — when some stranger decides they have a right to your attention. They lean in too close, their words sticky with unwanted confidence, their hands brushing where they don’t belong. You tell them no, you step away, but they don’t listen.

And then he’s there.

Your boyfriend.

Mikey (Sano Manjiro):

It was one of those lazy afternoons, the kind where Mikey insisted the two of you needed a snack break. His eyes had lit up when he spotted a convenience store, and of course, you ended up being dragged inside by the hand.

You were standing at the counter with your things—snacks, drinks, and of course, a pack of dorayaki for him—when the cashier gave you a grin that lingered a little too long.

“Damn… you’ve got a really pretty smile. Bet you make a lot of people’s day with it.”

You blinked, caught off guard. You opened your mouth to answer politely, but before a single word left you, you felt the warmth of someone pressing up against your back.

Mikey leaned against you, chin settling comfortably on your shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His arms slipped around your waist, holding you a little too tightly for it to be casual.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His face looked calm, but you knew him well enough to see the little shift in his eyes—the softness was gone, replaced with a faint sharpness that made your stomach flutter.

“Oi.” His voice was lazy, but there was no mistaking the edge in it. “They’re mine. Don’t look at them like that.”

The cashier froze, clearing their throat and quickly focusing back on ringing up the snacks.

Mikey didn’t let go of you until you both walked out of the store, bag in hand. His expression was neutral, maybe even a little blank, but you noticed the way his fingers were curled tight around yours as you walked.

You tugged on his hand lightly. “Mikey… you didn’t have to get so jealous. It was just a comment.”

He puffed his cheeks, looking away with an exaggerated pout, like a child who’d been told no candy. “Tch. I didn’t like it. You’re my girlfriend. Why should anyone else be smiling at you like that?”

There it was—his real feelings, wrapped up in his childish stubbornness. It made you laugh softly, though you reached over and brushed your thumb against his cheek to ease him out of his sulking.

“Hey,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips, soft and quick, “you don’t have to worry. I only want you.”

Mikey blinked at you, stunned for a beat. Then, almost without thinking, he tugged on your hand, pulling you a little closer until your chest bumped lightly against his. His pout wavered.

“…That wasn’t enough,” he muttered under his breath. Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned forward and caught your lips in a proper kiss—warm, slow, lingering just long enough to make your heart skip.

When he pulled back, his grin was wide and boyish, his forehead resting against yours. “Heh. Much better. Now I believe you.”

You shook your head, laughing under your breath, but your cheeks were warm as he dug into the bag and pulled out the dorayaki. He tore it open, took a bite, then held the rest out to you with a grin.

“…I’ll even share with you. Just this once.”

And that was Mikey—jealous one moment, laughing the next, stealing kisses in between bites of dorayaki, but never letting go of your hand the entire way home.

___________________________________________________________________________

Chifuyu Matsuno:

The shop was quiet that afternoon. You were standing at the counter while Chifuyu disappeared down an aisle to grab food for Peke J. Left alone for a moment, you idly scrolled through your phone, waiting.

That’s when someone walked in—a tall guy, about your age, who glanced at you and immediately gave a smile that lingered a little too long.

“Wow… didn’t expect to run into someone as good-looking as you here. You come here often?”

You blinked, a little caught off guard, and gave a polite, noncommittal nod. “Sometimes.”

The guy leaned an elbow on the counter, clearly not deterred.

“Guess I’ll have to start coming here more often then. You’d make the trip worth it.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, about to respond when the sound of footsteps caught your ear. Chifuyu came back around the corner, balancing two bags of food in his arms. He froze mid-step, watching for just a moment as the stranger leaned toward you with that grin.

“So… do you have a boyfriend? Or maybe someone like me could take you out sometime?”

You opened your mouth, but before you could answer, Chifuyu was there. He set the bags down a little harder than necessary, the thud making the stranger straighten. Sliding an arm around your waist, Chifuyu pulled you gently but firmly against his side.

His voice was calm, but there was a little tremble under it, the kind that came with barely controlled nerves.

“Yeah, they do. Me. I’m their boyfriend.”

The stranger blinked, smirk faltering for a second. He gave a dismissive shrug. “Relax, man. I was just talking.”

Chifuyu’s grip around you tightened ever so slightly. His green eyes narrowed, but he forced a small, polite smile.

“Talking’s fine. Flirting with someone else’s partner isn’t. So maybe you should stop.”

Something in his tone made the other guy glance away awkwardly. With a mumbled excuse, the stranger walked off toward the shelves, leaving the two of you at the counter.

Chifuyu exhaled a little too quickly, like he’d been holding his breath the entire time. His hand was still firmly on your waist, and you turned to look at him.

“Chifuyu…” You smiled softly. “You didn’t have to get so serious.”

His cheeks went pink instantly. He rubbed the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on you but clearly flustered. “I know, I know. But I hate it when people talk to you like that. It… makes me feel like I might not be good enough for you.”

Your heart softened at how vulnerable he sounded. You reached up, brushing your hand along his jaw, making him finally look at you.

“You’re more than enough. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”

His eyes widened at the words, lips parting slightly as though he couldn’t quite believe you said it so easily. Then, slowly, his boyish smile spread across his face, his blush deepening.

“…You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” he muttered, leaning down so his forehead touched yours for a second. Then, with a laugh, he pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

For the rest of the visit, his hand stayed firmly wrapped around yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles absentmindedly—as if to remind himself you were real, and you were his.

___________________________________________________________________________

Mitsuya Takashi:

It was a sunny afternoon, the perfect day to take Luna and Mana out to the playground. Mitsuya had been insisting they needed fresh air, and you happily tagged along, holding the picnic bag while he held both his sisters’ tiny hands.

The girls ran off to the swings as soon as they spotted them, laughing loudly. You and Mitsuya followed, sitting on a nearby bench where you could watch. Mitsuya leaned back, his shoulders relaxed as he smiled at the sight of them.

“Thanks for coming with us,” he murmured, his hand brushing against yours on the bench before he linked your fingers together. “They always love when you’re around.”

You gave him a soft smile, squeezing his hand. “I love being around them.”

It was peaceful—until a voice interrupted.

“Hey there. Haven’t seen you around here before.”

You looked up to see a man standing nearby, hands in his pockets, flashing you a confident grin.

“Uh… hi,” you said politely, shifting a little.

The man took a step closer, ignoring Mitsuya completely.

“You know, you’ve got a really nice smile. Bet you make a lot of people fall for you with it.”

Mitsuya straightened slightly, his calm eyes narrowing just a fraction. He didn’t say anything yet, letting you handle it, but his hand around yours tightened almost protectively.

You gave a small, awkward laugh. “That’s kind of you to say.”

The man leaned in a bit more.

“Kind, but true. I was wondering… maybe after this, you’d like to grab a coffee with me? You don’t look like you’ve got company.”

That was when Mitsuya finally stood, his shadow falling over you both. His voice was calm, polite, but carried no room for argument.

“Actually, they do. With me.”

The man blinked, looking him over. “Oh… I didn’t realize.”

Mitsuya’s arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you gently against his side. His expression stayed soft, but there was a firmness in his gaze that made the man quickly backpedal.

“Sorry about that.”

Without another word, he left, heading toward another part of the park.

Mitsuya exhaled quietly, sitting back down with you still tucked close against him. His hand moved to brush over yours again, thumb stroking gently.

“Sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t like when people talk to you like that. I know you’d never say yes, but still… I can’t help wanting to make sure you’re safe.”

You turned your head to look at him, warmth filling your chest. His lavender eyes softened when he saw your smile.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you murmured. “I like how you protect me.”

He chuckled quietly, leaning closer until his forehead pressed lightly against yours. “You’ll make me blush if you say things like that.”

From the swings, Luna’s voice carried across the playground. “Brother! Come push us!”

He laughed, pulling away reluctantly but brushing a kiss across your temple before standing. “Duty calls. But just so you know…” He gave you a smile that was equal parts warm and teasing. “…you’re mine. And I’ll always make sure people remember that.”

With that, he jogged over to his sisters, leaving you on the bench with your heart fluttering.

___________________________________________________________________________

Sanzu Haruchiyo:

The streets were unusually quiet that night as you walked home. Too quiet. You could hear your own footsteps echoing against the pavement, and behind them… another pair.

You tried to tell yourself it was nothing, that maybe it was just someone else going the same way. But every time you turned, the same man was there—close enough that you could hear his footsteps speed up when you did.

Finally, you ducked into a side street, fumbling with your phone. Your hands trembled as you scrolled to his contact and pressed call.

The line clicked almost instantly.

“Angel? What’s wrong?” His voice was sharp, not lazy like usual.

You swallowed hard, lowering your voice as you hurried your steps. “Haru… I think someone’s following me. He keeps… he keeps trying to talk to me. He won’t leave me alone.”

As if on cue, you heard the man behind you again.

“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t walk so fast. I just wanna talk. You look too pretty to be walking all by yourself.”

Your chest tightened, panic clawing at your throat. “He—he’s doing it again,” you whispered.

There was silence for a beat on the other end of the line. Then Sanzu’s voice dropped, low and steady.

“Listen to me. Keep walking, don’t run. I know exactly where you are—I’ll be there in three minutes. Can you hold on for me, baby?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see. “Y-Yeah. Please hurry.”

The man behind you whistled, still trailing.

“Don’t be shy, doll. I can keep you company tonight. I’ll treat you real good.”

You flinched, gripping the phone tighter. “Haru—”

“I’m almost there,” he cut in, his voice firm. “I’m not hanging up, okay? Keep talking to me. I’ve got you.”

You tried to focus on his voice, letting it ground you as your footsteps echoed on the sidewalk. Then, out of nowhere, a black car screeched to a stop at the curb in front of you. The door flew open, and there he was—pink hair messy, eyes blazing as he stepped out.

The man behind you froze, startled, but Sanzu didn’t even glance at him. He walked straight to you, pulling you into his arms. His hand cupped the back of your head, and his voice softened for you alone.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you now. You did so good, calling me.”

Then his gaze lifted over your shoulder, and the warmth in his tone disappeared. His grin stretched sharp, dangerous.

“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, huh? Following my girl around like that.”

The man stammered, hands raised, but Sanzu’s laugh was quiet and cold, the kind that made your skin prickle. He didn’t move closer though—he didn’t want to scare you more. Instead, he kissed your temple and guided you toward the car.

“Get in, angel. Don’t look back.”

You did as he said, sliding into the passenger seat. Even through the closed door, you could still hear his voice—muffled, sharp, and terrifying as he gave the man one final warning that made your stomach twist.

When he finally slipped back into the driver’s seat, his grin softened, his hand immediately reaching to hold yours.

“You okay? Did he touch you?” His eyes searched yours frantically, as if he’d fall apart if the answer was yes.

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes as you squeezed his hand. “No… you got here just in time.”

Relief washed over his face, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead.

“Good. Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispered, voice trembling just slightly now that the adrenaline was fading. “Next time, just call me sooner. I’ll always come for you.”

And as the car pulled away, his hand stayed wrapped tightly around yours, his thumb stroking gently against your skin—a silent promise that as long as he was around, no one would ever hurt you.

___________________________________________________________________________

Ran Haitani:

The club was louder than usual, the bass thudding through your chest as you moved through the crowd. You were only there because Ran had brought you along—he was handling some business for Bonten and didn’t want to leave you alone for the night.

He’d stepped away for a moment, telling you to wait near the bar where he could see you. That’s when it happened.

A man, tall and already tipsy, leaned against the counter beside you. His eyes swept over you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Well, well… what’s someone like you doing here all alone?”

You shifted slightly, giving him a polite but firm look. “I’m not alone.”

The man smirked, undeterred.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re too gorgeous to be sitting by yourself.”

Before you could answer, he reached out and brushed his fingers lightly against your arm, trailing them down toward your hand. You flinched back instantly, your stomach knotting.

And then—you felt it. That familiar arm wrapping casually but firmly around your shoulders, pulling you against a broad chest.

Ran.

He was smiling, but you knew better than anyone that smile was dangerous. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice smooth as silk when he spoke.

“Funny, I don’t remember giving permission for anyone to touch what’s mine.”

The man froze, eyes darting between you and Ran. “I-I didn’t know she was—”

Ran tilted his head, his braids brushing against his cheek as he leaned in closer, still smiling.

“Didn’t know? You didn’t ask either. That’s the problem.”

His tone was soft, but there was an edge underneath that made the man pale. He didn’t move, though, until Ran’s hand slid from your shoulder to your waist, tugging you flush against him. His lilac eyes never left the stranger’s.

“Now. You’re gonna apologize to my girl… and then you’re gonna walk away. Understand?”

The man muttered a quick apology, stumbling off into the crowd without another word. Only once he was gone did Ran’s expression soften. He turned to you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You okay, doll?”

You nodded, though your chest was still tight. Ran frowned slightly at the look in your eyes, his thumb stroking against your cheek gently.

“Sorry I wasn’t quicker,” he murmured. “Shouldn’t have let you out of my arms for even a second in a place like this.”

Your lips curved faintly. “You can’t exactly guard me 24/7, Ran.”

He chuckled low, pressing his forehead against yours. “Wanna bet?”

Then he kissed you, soft but lingering, his jealousy melting into something sweeter. When he pulled back, that playful smile returned, but this time it was just for you.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you even closer tonight, huh? Can’t have every drunk idiot trying their luck with my girl.”

And true to his word, Ran didn’t let you out of his embrace for the rest of the night—his arm draped around your waist, his hand clasping yours, his presence a constant reminder that you were his and his alone.

___________________________________________________________________________

Rindou Haitani:

The night had been going smoothly. You were seated at a quiet corner table in one of Bonten’s clubs, waiting while Rindou finished a quick meeting. The music pulsed through the walls, the dim lights casting everything in soft red and violet.

You were scrolling through your phone when someone slid into the empty seat across from you. A stranger, drink in hand, flashing you a grin that made your skin prickle.

“Didn’t think I’d find someone this gorgeous sitting alone.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m actually—”

The man leaned forward, cutting you off, his hand brushing lightly across yours where it rested on the table.

“No need to explain. I like a little mystery. What do you say we ditch this place? I’ll show you a better time.”

You pulled your hand back quickly, your chest tightening. “I’m not interested.”

But he didn’t budge. His smirk only grew, and his knee brushed against yours under the table.

That was when the air shifted.

A shadow fell over the table, and before you even looked up, you felt the familiar tension in the air—the kind only Rindou carried. He stood beside you, his mismatched eyes locked on the stranger, his jaw tight.

The man glanced up, about to speak, but Rindou cut him off in a voice like ice.

“Move.”

The stranger blinked. “Hey, I was just—”

Rindou’s hand slammed down on the table, making the glasses rattle. His voice stayed low, but the edge was razor sharp.

“I said, move. Don’t touch what’s mine again.”

Something in his tone made the man’s confidence crumble instantly. He muttered an apology and scurried away without another word, disappearing into the crowd.

Silence lingered for a moment, heavy with the tension that still clung to Rindou. His shoulders were stiff, his breathing just a little too sharp. But when he turned to you, the storm in his eyes softened.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

You shook your head, reaching for his hand. “No. He just scared me a little.”

Rindou exhaled slowly, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his arms. His hold was firm, grounding, as if he needed the reassurance just as much as you did.

“I hate when people look at you like that,” he admitted, his words muffled against your hair. “It makes me… feel like I’m gonna lose you.”

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “You’re not going to lose me, Rindou. Ever.”

His eyes searched yours, vulnerable in a way he rarely let anyone see. Then, with a quiet sigh, he leaned down and kissed you—gentle, lingering, full of all the emotions he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I’m keeping you close tonight. No arguments.”

And true to his word, for the rest of the night, his arm never left around you—his touch protective, steady, and full of silent promises.

___________________________________________________________________________

Izana Kurokawa:

Your shift at the bookstore had been quiet until he showed up.

A customer, a man maybe a few years older than you, stood by the counter with a book in hand—not to buy it, but to lecture you.

“See, you probably don’t get it,” he said with a chuckle, leaning against the counter like he owned it. “This author’s actually overrated. People only read him because the language is simple. You’d really benefit from reading someone deeper, someone you can learn from. Lucky for you, I know plenty.”

You gave a polite smile, trying not to sigh. “I’ve read him, actually. And I liked his work.”

He grinned smugly, clearly not listening.

“Oh, that’s cute. But you’re only seeing the surface. Let me explain—”

And on he went, gesturing dramatically, drowning you in half-baked “analysis” as though you hadn’t already formed your own opinion. Worse, he kept leaning in closer, lowering his voice like he was letting you in on some big secret.

That’s when the door chime rang.

You looked up, relief flooding you the second you saw him—Izana, stepping inside with that calm, confident air that always drew attention without him trying. He had his hands in his pockets, his eyes immediately finding you.

At first, he smiled faintly, about to greet you—until he noticed the man leaning far too close over your counter. His smile froze. His expression shifted, sharp and unreadable, as he walked toward you.

The man barely noticed until Izana was standing right behind him.

“You know,” Izana’s voice was smooth, quiet, but cutting, “you’re taking up space she doesn’t want to give you.”

The man turned, scoffing. “And who are you? I was just having a conversation.”

Izana tilted his head, that faint smile returning—but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“No. You weren’t. You were talking at her. There’s a difference.”

The man’s face flushed, defensive. “She was listening—”

Izana cut him off, stepping just a fraction closer, his presence overwhelming despite his calm tone.

“She listens because she’s polite. Not because she wants you. If you were half as smart as you pretend to be, you’d notice her eyes.”

The man faltered, glancing toward you. You hadn’t realized how tense your expression had gotten until Izana pointed it out.

Izana’s smile widened slightly, satisfied. Then he turned fully toward you, softening in an instant as he reached out to brush his fingers lightly against yours over the counter.

“My girl’s never been shy about telling me what she likes,” he said gently, his gaze locking with yours. “And she’s made it very clear—it’s me. Not some stranger who thinks quoting books makes him interesting.”

The man’s jaw tightened, but he knew better than to argue. Muttering something under his breath, he grabbed his jacket and left.

Silence settled, and Izana finally let out a quiet breath, turning his full attention back to you. His thumb stroked the back of your hand as his voice softened, only for you now.

“You okay, love?”

You nodded, though you exhaled shakily. “Yeah… I just didn’t know how to get rid of him.”

Izana tilted his head, studying you with that soft intensity only he had. Then he leaned in, lowering his voice so only you could hear.

“Next time, don’t waste your energy. You don’t owe men like that a smile, or your patience. You only owe me this—”

Before you could ask, his hand slid to cup your jaw, and he kissed you.

It wasn’t hurried—it was slow, deliberate, his lips molding against yours in a way that left no doubt. The kind of kiss that made your heart stutter and reminded you exactly where you belonged.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice soft but laced with a possessive edge.

“You don’t need their approval. You’re mine. And I’ll never let anyone forget it.”

Your lips curved, warmth spreading through your chest as you whispered, “Good. Because I don’t want anyone but you.”

For the first time since he walked in, Izana’s smile turned warm, genuine—one reserved only for you. He pressed another lingering kiss to your lips, softer this time, before pulling away with a satisfied glint in his lavender eyes.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

__________________________________________________________________________

Hanma Shuji:

You were waiting near the bar, nursing a drink, when you felt a presence come up far too close.

A stranger leaned in, his arm brushing against yours on the counter.

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking alone,” he murmured, eyes dragging down your figure.

You shifted away politely. “I’m fine, thanks.”

But he didn’t take the hint. Instead, his hand grazed your lower back, lingering just a little too long. You stiffened, stepping sideways. He followed.

“C’mon, don’t be shy. I can treat you better than whoever you’re waiting for.”

Your pulse spiked, unease prickling at your skin. You tried to angle yourself away again, but he stepped in front of you this time, effectively boxing you against the counter. The stranger was relentless. Every time you shifted away, he stepped closer, brushing your arm, letting his fingers graze your waist like he had a right to touch you. Your patience snapped the moment his hand slid too close to your hip—you flinched back hard, bumping into a solid chest.

Strong hands steadied you, and a familiar chuckle curled against your ear.

“Aw, doll, you didn’t tell me we were playing tag. And here I thought you only ran into me like that when you wanted something.”

Your breath caught—Hanma.

The stranger turned, annoyed at first, but froze when he met Hanma’s mismatched gaze and that sharp, stretched grin.

Hanma tilted his head, eyes flicking lazily from you to the man.

“Lemme guess… you thought if you cornered her long enough, she’d magically forget how to say ‘no,’ huh?”

The man bristled. “I was just talking to her—”

Hanma snorted, laughter spilling loud and mocking, making a few heads turn.

“Talking? Buddy, if that’s what you call it, I’d hate to hear what you sound like when you’re begging.”

The man flushed, his mouth opening to argue, but Hanma leaned forward just slightly, still grinning but with an edge that cut like glass.

“See, here’s the thing. She doesn’t need you explaining yourself. She doesn’t need your hands on her. And she sure as hell doesn’t need you pretending she wanted it. Y’know what she needs?”

He tightened his hold on your hip, pulling you back against him as he smiled down at you instead. His voice dropped, smoother, softer, but still loud enough for the man to hear.

“She needs me. And lucky for both of us—I’m right here.”

The stranger’s jaw clenched, but Hanma just waved him off lazily, almost bored.

“Go on, scram. Before I really start having fun.”

And just like that, the man vanished into the crowd, mumbling an apology on his way out.

Hanma turned you gently to face him, his grin softening as he searched your eyes.

“He didn’t scare you too bad, did he, doll?”

You shook your head, though your hands were still tight around his jacket. “I just… didn’t like how he kept touching me.”

Hanma’s smile thinned, and for a heartbeat, his eyes darkened. He tilted your chin up, leaning in until his lips brushed against yours.

“Then let me remind you what real touch feels like.”

His kiss crashed down—deep, claiming, searing away every trace of the stranger’s hands until there was only him. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, mismatched eyes glinting with mischief again.

“Mm. Much better. Now everybody here knows—you’re mine.”

And the rest of the night, his arm stayed draped over you like a brand, daring anyone else to even think about testing him.