real eaters. those who’s nose dig at your clit when they eat it. those who aren’t afraid of getting their face wet, proud of the shine that glistens on their chin. those obsessed with how red and puffy it gets when they slap it, strings of slick connecting you two as his hand pulls away. those who’d spend hours beneath you, and the others who can’t help but hump and grind against the edge the bed, craving more. eaters who moan as they eat, those who groan against it. those who take it slow, taking long laps, that get their tongue real dirty. eats who loves sucking on that beaten bud, no matter how sensitive it may be now. eaters, those truly in love with that pretty pussy.
You're either isekai or reincarnated into your fav fandom, and while you may be in your fav world...you can't escape yourself, hon-
Character: You stay positive. You always believe that everything is going to work out. How do you do it?
Y/n/Reader: Well, I'll tell you, my secret!... I lie to myself
Character*Is taken aback and looks nervous*...
Y/n/Reader: Every morning when I wake up,I say everything is going to be okay, but I'm lying...
Character*Smiles and tries to get up, only for you to hold them down and give them the most preoccupying unblinking shacking gaze with a strained hushed voice*....
Y/n/Reader: And I don't know how much longer I can do it...
Y/n/Reader*Puts the mask back on and smiles, leaving them* Have a swell night!
like, sure, you knew he was coming—your mom had said something casual about it over breakfast, that his family was dropping by in town, that they might stop by to say hi. but you weren’t expecting this
not the broad shoulders. not the sharp jawline that looks like it was carved out of some greek statue’s fever dream. not the way his t-shirt hangs off him like it’s been personally tailored to frame every muscle you didn’t know he had
and not the voice, either. deeper now, smooth and careless when he says your name like it hasn’t been years. like he wasn’t just some scrawny, quiet boy you’d chase down the street with popsicle-stained fingers and summer dirt on your knees
“hey” he says, like it’s nothing. like your whole body isn’t suddenly too warm for no reason
and you’re stuck staring, caught between nostalgia and something you probably shouldn’t be feeling, because holy shit—when did he get hot?
the worst part is he doesn’t seem to notice. he just blinks at you with those lazy eyes, like he’s still that kid you knew back then. like he doesn’t realize the way his bicep flexes when he pushes his hair back. like he doesn’t know how close he’s standing, how his cologne (god, since when does he wear cologne?) clings to you when he leans in to ask about your life, about school, about things that sound innocent enough until you notice the edge in his tone, the way he’s looking at your mouth for half a second too long
you’re answering on autopilot, pretending your pulse isn’t tripping over itself, pretending your thighs aren’t pressing together under the table because it’s him. your childhood friend. the boy who once dared you to eat three fireball candies at once. the boy who was just… yucky
but he’s not yucky anymore. not with that body. not with that voice. not with that face that grew into itself in all the right unfair ways
he’s oblivious. of course he is. he has no idea that your heartbeat’s doing gymnastics, that your face feels way too hot, that the kid who once tripped over his own shoelaces is now making you wonder what it would feel like to have his weight pressing into yours
wakasa loves smacking your ass whenever he can. whether it’s in public or in the comfort of your own home, he’s going to smack your ass when he gets the opportunity.
you sometimes tease him by wearing booty shorts or one of his oversized shirts with no panties on underneath the shirt — he sneaks up behind you, smacking your ass and he realize as he’s grabbing your ass that you have no panties on.
“no panties, eh? you fuckin’ tease..” he mutters in your ear, then he slightly bites your neck and gives you on final smack on the ass before walking away from you. “i’m headin’ to work.” he says. the erection he has is no joke . . he’s definitely going to make you work for it when he gets home.
but what wakasa loves the most is laying on his back, smoking a fat ol’ blunt and making you ride his dick in reverse cowgirl.
he absolutely loves the position because he gets to see everything from how your slick runs down his cock to how your ass ripples and bounces every time you move . . and the most important thing is that waka gets to smack your ass repeatedly.
“pretty pussy,” he murmurs, smacking your ass and causing you to whine. of course he soothes the stinging sensation by the rubbing it, he isn’t that cruel . . . or is he? ;) but you can’t deny that you love the feeling of his big hands squeezing and slapping your ass though.
You were lying face down on his bed, resting your chin on your arm. You looked up at him, somewhat dreamily. You sighed raggedly, trying to catch the breath you'd lost during the intense night of passion. He could see the beads of sweat on your back, your trembling legs, and the hickeys between your thighs. He was staring out the window, a cigarette between his lips, his back to you.
You got out of bed and walked over to him, wrapped your hands around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder. He tensed. It wasn't easy for him to receive so much affection. He'd never been treated this way before. He grabbed your arm, turned around, and dragged you back onto the bed. He threw you onto the mattress with almost no delicacy and climbed on top of you. He looked into your eyes for a second and kissed your neck, marking and sucking on it. He pressed your hands against the mattress and murmured, not looking into your eyes, his breath hitting your collarbone.
"My sweet fool..."
You could only feel flattered by his intimate tone.
-Mello, Masky, Hoodie, Mikey (Manjiro sano), Izana, Billy Loomis, Hannibal, Matt Jeevas, Beyond Birthday, Ran Haitani
tokyo revengers ⇢ TIME IS NOT ON OUR SIDE ft. keisuke baji
you fall in love with a certain gang member in his timeline and you promise to find each other in yours—ten years later.
wc: 1.7k
about: reader is a time leaper and the trigger is a kiss on the lips <3
warnings: just some mild angst in the beginning. nothing heart wrenching. also not proofread lololol
note: this has been in my notes since 2022 and i’m soooo fawking glad it’s finally done and posted. i feel free
from the sidelines, you quietly watch as toman wraps up their last meeting—rather the last meeting you’ll be in attendance as they’ve unanimously decided that the safest course of action for you at the moment is to travel back to the future—your present.
you knew how important this assembly was going to be. you didn’t mean to tune out at least half of it but at one point, the gang was in the middle of bidding you a proper farewell and your gaze had landed on baji where he was stood with his division. as though he could sense your eyes on him, he’d met them with his own and neither of you had been able to look away since.
many months ago, you wouldn’t have had a single clue what was going through baji’s mind. if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s masking his true feelings behind piercing eyes and cunning smiles—but maybe that’s the very thing that drew you to him in the first place. you crave his unpredictability and the thrill that emanates from him feels endless.
but like all good things, this, too, has come to an end.
inaudible chatters start to buzz through the air as toman members disperse into smaller groups but baji makes a beeline for you.
“hey, captain,” you say with as much mirth as you can muster but he only gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“10 years is a long time…” his tone is sullen, so unlike him that you utter your next words without giving it much thought.
“what if i stay?”
it’s only then you realize how selfish it is of you to even consider it an option.
you’re not oblivious to the fact that the gang’s second division captain has a completely different standpoint from the man you’ve grown fond of. you’re also certain that he will always pick loyalty over self-interest.
ultimately, baji is toman’s before he is yours.
“i’m the one doing the waiting so don’t worry about it,” he tells you, though the reassurance sounds more directed at himself.
as your time together gradually runs out, the clearer it becomes in your mind how you two never truly had a chance.
despite his free spirit, baji’s been apprehensive of getting you involved with him because the last thing he needs is word about you going around and in turn, rival gangs using you to get to him. so your feelings stay as is—just feelings.
as you make the most of these last few minutes before you jump back to your present, you can’t find it in yourself to tie him down. not ever but especially not now.
“kei, promise me something.”
“anything.”
“promise me that if you meet someone–”
“it’ll still be you,” he cuts you off. he’s not about to hear you give him away before he’s even had the chance to be yours so he leans closer until there’s barely a millimeter between your lips. then he repeats himself with conviction, “it will still be you.”
before you can protest, baji closes the distance between the two of you in a searing kiss, triggering your 10-year time leap.
one second, it’s as if you’re surrounded by complete darkness then you’re suffering from a splitting headache the next. you suppose that’s a sign your time leap worked.
it takes you some time to regain your lucidity but just as the pain in your head is beginning to subside, you’re brought back to your senses by the shrill ringing from your phone.
still on the edge of your disoriented state, you fail to register the caller id. you simply take the call. “hello?”
“hi. i wanna see you.” your heart jumps at the voice and any sense of confusion in your system leaves your body. “are you home?”
baji.
your breath hitches but you quickly compose yourself before baji can detect any hint of hesitation from you. “uh… yeah, i’m home.”
“alright. see you soon.”
as soon as he hangs up, you pace around your apartment, letting various scenarios play out in your head so you don’t overlook any possible way this can go. sure, you always planned to find baji in this timeline. you just didn’t expect you’d get thrown into this situation immediately. however, you find it odd that baji doesn’t seem fazed at the very least. it’s almost as if no time has passed at all.
you start to doubt if you’ve truly arrived in your timeline but you don’t get to dwell on it any further because the doorbell soon rings throughout your home. when you swing the door open, you’re met with the immediate grin on baji’s face at the sight of you.
“hi there.” he holds up a small bag of takeout, leaning against the doorframe in a posture so lax which is an absolute contradiction to your frantic state. “i got you your favorite.”
“oh. you, uh…” not a single coherent thought is going through your mind right now. you don’t know what to ask. you don’t even know what to say at all. “you didn’t have to.”
“of course i did,” he counters, sauntering over to your dining room to set the tubs of food on the table. you don’t say anything else after that but you must’ve been quiet for a beat too long because baji unexpectedly looks at you with an inquisitive glint in his eye as he begins to examine your tense demeanor. you suppose he still has a knack for reading people. “you okay?”
“mhm,” you reply with a quick nod, a little too immediate for it to be a natural response.
baji doesn’t seem convinced. he walks over to you, putting a hand over your forehead before gently cupping your face to study your expression. “you seemed out of it on the phone. are you sure you’re okay?”
unfortunately for him, his question fails to earn an answer.
but fortunately for you, you finally find an opportunity to ogle and get a closer look at him.
he’s lost the baby fat in his cheeks—his jawline and cheekbones are now a bit more defined, making his face look more sculpted than it already was before. other than that, he still has the same long hair up in a ponytail, the shorter raven locks messily framing his features. same piercing eyes. same swoony smile.
god, was time incredibly kind to him.
“you look…” gorgeous, you want to tell him. instead, you say, “…the same? kind of. i mean, your face is… sharper?”
you want to kick yourself for your inability to think up some adjectives. despite being a decade older, you’re definitely not a year wiser.
it only takes baji a brief moment to catch on before a shit-eating grin is stretching across his face so brazenly that it makes you suspicious.
“kei?”
“so you’re back,” he drawls.
there’s the confirmation you needed—the time leap did work. but why is baji so chill about it?
“keisuke,” you say more sternly which elicits a deep chuckle from him. “what happened in ten years?”
“you know…” he begins with a cadence that makes you weak in the knees—you have to quickly remind yourself about the bigger matter at hand. “you usually call me babe.”
huh?
with your lack of response, baji takes it as his cue to continue, “do you wanna know what happened after we kissed? or should i just skip to our first date?”
our first-
“what?!” you shriek.
the utter shock in your face makes baji cackle.
“did you really think i was just gonna sit around and do nothing? turns out ten years is more than enough time to win you over,” he begins to explain, occasionally interrupted by his own laughter. “in my defense, i tried to wait. keep my distance and all, but you—” he emphasizes with an accusatory point of his index finger in your direction, “—couldn’t. apparently, you and other you have one thing in common. i’m your type.”
you’ve always deemed baji as the loyal one but right now, you might just give him a run for his money.
“i asked you out?”
“what?” baji sounds offended, almost competitive even, as if the very idea of it was ridiculous. “i asked you out. you just liked me back. what kind of man do you think i am?”
in that instant, you catch a glimpse of the younger baji. considering that the memory of your goodbyes is still clear and fresh in your mind, it almost makes you laugh—perhaps the boy you had to leave behind ten years ago is still somewhere inside the man standing before you now.
and deep down, you know you would’ve asked him out then if the circumstances were any different. for a brief moment, you let yourself wonder if he would’ve been just as offended.
“so… we’re dating?” the words feel weird on your tongue. not that you’re complaining.
“yup.”
“for how long?”
“a little over two years.”
you swear you feel your eyes bulge out of your skull at the revelation. “wow… okay.”
“you don’t look happy,” he teases.
“i am!” your rebuttal comes out a bit too defensively, prompting you to take a sharp inhale and reverting your voice to its neutral inflection. “i am,” you repeat. “it’s just… a lot to process.”
“take your time.”
baji presses a soft kiss on your forehead and that’s when it hits you.
“have we kissed…? since… you know…”
“not on the lips. i had to make up some no-kiss rule just in case—which other you hated, by the way—but now that you mention it…” he steps even closer, forcing you to walk backwards until you’re backed up against the kitchen counter and caged in his arms. “i’m gonna need you to refresh my memories.”
“what if i go back to the past?”
“i’ll kiss you there too,” he speaks with so much certainty it makes your heart flutter.
“then we’d just keep going back and forth,” you joke.
“then so be it.” with his face just merely inches away from yours, his voice dips in volume. just enough for you to still catch his words when he says, “i waited a long time. i think i deserve it.”
you roll your eyes but you don’t bother to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “it’s not waiting if we’re already together… babe.”
the playfulness in baji’s eyes gradually dies as his gaze on you softens into something more sincere—exactly how it always did ten years ago each time he looked at you. “i promised it’d still be you, didn’t i?”
Contains: cursing, fighting, blood, crimes, shoplifting, smoking, petty crimes, beating gender norms, pickpocketing, and gang activity
A/N: Sukeban is a Japanese term for a "delinquent girl" or the leader/members of all-female youth gangs that emerged in 1960s Japan, known for rebelling against gender norms through unique fashion (like modified school uniforms, messy hair, thin eyebrows) and solidarity, protesting societal expectations.
Summary: Sukeban were supposed to be a thing of the past girl gangs that had vanished after their peak decades ago. That was why it came as such a shock when the two of them turned the corner and found you standing with a group of sukeban girls, laughing as chains and bats came crashing down on some gang members from roppongi, guys who were beaten black and blue.
They weren’t meant to exist anymore, yet here you were proof that the legends hadn’t died after all. You noticed them staring and flashed a sharp grin, tightening your grip on the chain before slamming it against the wall. The metallic clang echoed through the alley, loud and deliberate, sending a clear message that this was your groups territory now ⟡ ݁₊ .๋࣭
╰┈➤ ⸝⸝★ Tokyo Revengers ୭ ˚.
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Sukebans were all-female teenage gangs that appeared in Japan during the 1960s and 70s. The name, created by police, roughly means “delinquent girl.” These girls pushed back against strict gender roles and expectations placed on young women in a male-dominated society
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ They became known for modifying their school uniforms, sticking together as tight-knit groups, and refusing to behave the way society expected them to. While sukeban were involved in fights and petty crime, their rebellion was also about proving that being tough, independent, and female weren’t opposites, and you made that known by gang members of Roppongi
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Roppongi wasn’t supposed to change or have a new gang that challenged to gain territory in the span of a couple of days because Roppongi belonged to the Haitani brothers. It had belonged to them for years, even after prison, even after the city tried to pretend they were gone and it would keep belonging to them for as long as they walked its streets without fear
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ So when rumors started crawling through clubs and alleyways about an old gang resurfacing something people swore had died decades ago Ran had laughed it off. “A new gang?” he’d said, voice lazy, amused, smoke curling from the corner of his mouth. “In our district?” Rindou hadn’t laughed. He slowed his steps instead, fingers lifting to adjust his glasses, violet eyes sharpening with focus. “They say the guys from Roppongi South didn’t even get a chance to fight back.”
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ That night, they took a shortcut through the backstreets narrow alleys soaked in neon light and old grime fresh off shaking down a few idiots who thought they could try challenge the two. The city was quieter here, the kind of quiet that swallowed screams before they reached the street.
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ That was when they saw the bodies. Men lay scattered across the alley like discarded trash groaning, coughing blood, clutching broken ribs and shattered pride. A baseball bat lay snapped clean in half. Chains dragged dark red streaks across cracked concrete. One guy tried to crawl away when he noticed them, fingers scraping uselessly against the ground before his strength gave out and he collapsed with a choked whimper
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Ran stopped walking “Well,” he hummed, lips curling into a smile. “Someone had fun.”His foot nudging the body as the sound of girls laughing was heard. Loud and rough. The Haitani brothers turned the corner, and saw a figure of a girl who stood at the center of it all
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Your long skirt brushed against heavy boots, sleeves rolled high enough to expose bruised knuckles and fresh blood smeared across your skin. A face mask hid your mouth, but not your eyes dark, calculating, locking onto them the instant you realized they weren’t just more gang trash. Around you, girls moved like a storm
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Chains swung with practiced ease. Bats cracked down without hesitation. Boots slammed into already broken bodies until the alley echoed with pain and impact. One of the men screamed causing you to laugh as you lifted the chain in your hand and slammed it against the wall. The metallic clang rang through the alley, loud and deliberate, cutting through everything else. The girls slowed stopping their harsh assault of violence. Every ounce of attention shifted to you
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ “This is our turf,” you snapped, voice rough, commanding kicking the male body by your feet to the wall “So you better not come back or else we're gonna be snappin necks” Ran tilted his head, eyes sparkling with unmistakable interest, like he’d stumbled onto something rare while Rindou’s gaze swept over the scene the modified uniforms, the weapons hidden beneath fabric, the absolute lack of hesitation in every movement as his jaw tightened "Sukeban" Rindou muttered letting out a sigh
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Ran, on the other hand, looked delighted “Well,” he said lightly, hands sliding into his pockets as he took a step forward, unbothered by the blood on the ground or the weapons in reach. “Didn’t think tonight would get interesting.” Your eyes tracked him instantly
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ You side eyed them gripping onto the chain, the girls behind you shifted as one, chains tightening, grips adjusting. They didn’t move unless you did. Rindou noticed that. Hierarchy, and that you were on top of it all. Ran stopped just short of crossing an invisible line. His smile didn’t fade, but something sharper flickered beneath it curiosity possibly or more
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ “You’re making a lot of noise for someone new,” he said. You met his gaze without blinking “Ain’t our fault,” you replied. “We don’t need to be quiet for some stupid shit even at night” The alley went still for a moment, it felt like the city itself was holding its breath, waiting to see who would step forward first
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Then you turned away just like that. You slung the chain over your shoulder and walked past the wreckage, your girls falling in behind you without a word. Boots crunched over broken glass. Laughter rose again, quieter now, satisfied. You didn’t look back
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Ran watched until you and the girls following behind disappeared into the neon glow, his grin slow and dangerous “…Yeah,” he murmured. “She’s trouble.” Rindou exhaled through his nose, eyes lingering on the bloodstained concrete and the bodies left behind. “This isn’t over,” he said flatly. “They didn’t come back for nothing.” Ran chuckled, turning to follow him out of the alley to go a different way instead of the shortcut they usually went through “Good.”
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ After that night, the Haitani brothers started seeing you everywhere. Not close enough to corner but never far enough to miss
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Sometimes you were perched on a rusted railing behind a club, cigarette balanced between your fingers like the world hadn’t moved past the seventies. Girls clustered around you laughing, swearing, patching each other up with practiced hands. You watched over them with sharp eyes and an easy authority, exhaling smoke like it belonged to you
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Other times, you were quieter. Adjusting a torn sleeve. Retightening a tie. Cleaning blood from someone else’s knuckles with a gentleness that didn’t match the reputation spreading through Roppongi like wildfire and every single time you noticed them first
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Your gaze would lift, lock onto Ran’s, and you’d smirk beneath your mask. Sometimes you waved, slow and mocking. Sometimes you just tilted your head, like you were daring him to try something, but Ran adored it “She’s cute,” he said once, watching you snap your lighter shut with practiced ease. “Got bite.” Rindou scoffed, arms crossed. “She’s a pain in the ass.” Ran glanced at him, amused. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “She’s stirring shit in Roppongi.” Ran shrugged. “So do we.”
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ By then, running into them had stopped feeling like a coincidence. You were halfway down an aisle when you felt it again that prickle between your shoulders, the sense of being watched by someone who knew exactly what you were doing. The store smelled like cheap perfume and detergent, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. You didn’t look up. You didn’t need to
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ You slid the pack of cigarettes into your sleeve with practiced ease “Careful,” Ran’s voice drifted from beside you, amused and lazy. “Camera’s angled wrong over there.” your hand stilled for half a second then you glanced sideways
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ He was pretending to browse, one hand tucked into his pocket, eyes half-lidded like this was the most normal thing in the world. When you didn’t say anything, he reached out and casually picked up a candy bar, blocking the camera’s view as he leaned in just enough “There,” he murmured. “You’re good.” you snorted under your breath. “Didn’t ask for help.” “Didn’t say you did.” He smiled, sharp and pleased with himself
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ “But it’d be a shame if you got caught.” your eyes glanced towards the register, the clerk barely looked up too bored and underpaid to care. You couldn't help but click your tongue placing the pack back and walking off. Ran paid for his candy, then without breaking stride dropped the cigarettes you put back into your hands as you walked past him leaving the convenience store with packet of pocky you bought
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ “On me,” Ran said lightly, stepping outside with you. You paused just past the door, smoke already between your fingers. You exhaled slowly, then looked at him. “You always stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?” Ran laughed, hands in his pockets. “Only when I’m interested.” you rolled your eyes but you didn’t hand the cigarettes back and took out the cigarette flipped upside down holding it up to Ran’s lip “Make a wish” the males violet eyes shining “oh?” Ran smirked and did a fake blow in the cigarette as you flipped it over, and placed it inbetween your lips side eyeing him "What? I was doing a favour in return" "Nothing" Ran shrugged as you scoffed walking off leaving Ran by himself
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ Rindou was different. You found him weeks later in the same convenience store, tucked into the far corner aisle like he belonged there, glasses pushed up his nose as he stared at rows of boxed hair dye with visible irritation. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing everything in dull white as the refrigerators hummed behind you
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ You stopped short when you spotted him there, brow lifting slightly. “…You serious?” you asked, tone flat. He glanced at you, unimpressed, then back to the shelf. “What?” You gestured vaguely at the wall of color. “You. Standing here about to read ingredients.” Rindou scoffed quietly. “Says the one who’s been staring at the same box for five minutes.” You clicked your tongue and turned back to the shelf. “They’re all trash. Half of these fry your hair.” “That one’s worse,” he said immediately, nudging a box aside with two fingers. “Too much ammonia.” You blinked, genuinely caught off guard. “You dye your hair once and suddenly you’re an expert?” “I bleach it,” he corrected without looking at you. “There’s a difference.”
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ You picked up another box and held it out between you. “This one?” “Cheap brand. Fades fast.” You shot him a glare, and he met it without flinching, expression flat and unreadable. “…You’re annoying,” you muttered. “And you’re stubborn,” he replied evenly. He stepped closer, reaching past you to grab a darker shade, close enough that you could smell soap and smoke on him, and shoved the box into your hands. “That’ll hold better. Less damage.” You hesitated, fingers curling around the cardboard before glancing up at him. “How long you’ve been doing your hair?” He shrugged slightly. “Since I was younger. Ran started the idea.” A small snort slipped out of you as you looked back down at the box, then you tossed it into your basket anyway. “Figures... your hair’s deepfried as shit" Rindou side-eyed you, eye twitching as you picked out a conditioning bottle, placing it in his hands
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ At the counter, Rindou added a box of blue dye to the pile without comment, barely sparing it a glance as the clerk scanned the items with bored efficiency
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️♬⋆.˚⊹ Outside, the night air felt cooler against your skin as Rindou tucked the bag under his arm and glanced at you sideways. “Don’t mess it up,” he said. You snickered behind your mask. “Worried about me?” He scoffed, looking away. “No. Worried you’ll blame me for that shit” You snickered for a moment neither of you said anything as you took the bag from the worker and stepped back into the street, the silence between you settling into something unfamiliar but oddly comfortable
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ The Haitani brothers soon started showing up more often after that. Not exactly starting a fight they were just… there. Ran would light your cigarette without asking, flicking his lighter that he brought around now and shut it with a grin when you took the first drag and on purpose blew smoke at his face to get a reaction that would usually fail
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Rindou would be closer than he let on, eyes always scanning the street, correcting your stance without touching when a fight loomed. “Your guard’s open,” he muttered once. You adjusted without comment, knocking a guy flat seconds later. Rindou huffed. “Tch. See?”
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Ran likes to find himself enjoying watching you fight like you’ve got nothing to lose, bottles smashed, elbows driven in, skirts stained dark with blood that isn’t yours. He watches you with that amused, lazy smile, like the violence you cause is entertainment
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ When you continue to shoplift, he doesn’t ask what you’re taking or why. He just distracts whoever needs distracting, lets you slip whatever you want into your sleeves or waistband, and laughs when you walk out clean. He never tells you to calm down, never tells you to watch your mouth or your temper. That’s why you don’t snap at him like you do everyone else. He treats you like a loaded weapon dangerous, useful, and worth respecting
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ Rindou is different. He doesn’t watch you like a show; he watches you like a fighter. He notices how you move, how you don’t hesitate to go for joints, throats, weak points and somehow he always nit picks it
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ If someone laughs and calls you the Haitani's girl or assumes you’re tagging along, Rindou shuts it down immediately, blunt and sharp. He makes it clear you’re not lesser or even a item. You’re your own threat but sometimes he steps back as you beat the shit out of someone close to breaking joints, asking them to speak louder than when they are bitching
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ They still knew exactly what you were. A sukeban a gorl who broke rules and gender norms with the same casual ease she broke noses, you laughed too loud, and fought dirty just like the other girls from your group
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ One night, after a scuffle that left blood on Ran’s knuckles and a new tear in your uniform, the three of you sat on a rooftop overlooking neon-lit streets. You leaned back on your hands, chain coiled at your side, mask tugged loose just enough to breathe. “You know,” Ran said, staring at the skyline, “people keep asking us when we're gonna make you an enemy.” You snorted. “You could try.” Rindou scoffed. “We're not that stupid.” Ran grinned. “Nah. Enemies are predictable.” He glanced at you, eyes bright. “Friends are way more interesting.”
━━━ ．°˖✧🏍️⋆.˚⊹ You didn’t answer right away. Just laughed, sharp and fearless, pulling your mask back into place as you stood. “Don’t get distracted,” you said. “I’m still a problem.” Rindou stood too, cracking his neck “Good,” he replied. “So are we.” A grin appeared on your face as you spoke “Lets get icecream” “OH MY GOD YES” Ran grinned ignoring how Rindou face palmed
mdni 🔞 your camboy!fav is punishing you . . . live !
gn, sub/bttm!reader.
“smile fa’ the camera now, c’mon…”
he hums low, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice. he’s bruising your hips, each thrust coming harder than the last. he’s holding his phone right before your face. he’s making sure to catch your puffy, bitten lips, your flushed cheeks, that sweet, sultry expression that melts onto your face. “what? dick gon’ to your brain?” he grabs a handful of your hair, hoisting you up, your back to his chest, forcing it into an arch.
it’s hard to speak through his pace. an incoherent whine merely escapes as you try to soothe yourself, feeling yourself clenching against his harsh strokes. you glance at your reflection on the screen—your hair is sticky on your forehead, hot tears pooling at each corners of your eyes, a slack jaw. you flutter against his dick, a tiny sob each time he almost pulls his tip out only to slam himself right back into you. his hand reaches for your chin. “look at you, starin’… whore.” he spits a drop of slaver against your cheek. he slides two fingers in your mouth, a square smile splitting his face once you start sucking without a word from him.
you mumble something to him, about being so close, and needing it so badly., your bottom lip shaking as the rest of you squirms against his hold. “again? already..?” he laughs against your lobe. “alright, then…” he pushes your further into your arch, lowering his phone right above your pelvis “show everyone.”
the two words act as a trigger. you let yourself falter as they echo throughout your head, dizzy as you unravel around him. he’s still bullying himself into you, his teeth sinking at the corner of your neck. your chest, hitching, your breath, scattered into many, your legs tremble, your heart skips a beat—he pushes himself deeper than you could imagine as he paints thick white threads inside you. he slides out slowly, letting his cum drop out slowly, making sure to get a nice view of you twitching, aching at the new emptiness.
“you’re giving me another… yeah?”
featuring . . . jabber!!!!!, nahoya (smiley)!!!!!, hanma, ran, manjiro, gojo, sabo!!!!!. and your fav(s) <3
☹ quantumkush. don't plagiarize, don't translate, don't feed to ai.
