[tobifuyu]

ONESHOTS

Shopping with the Haitani Ran goes wrong (kantoumanji!Ran x virgin!reader)

Heatwave (domestic fluff, smut)

New hair, who dis? (bestfriends to lovers)

I just want a baby with the right one Pt1 (husband!Ran, dad!Ran)

Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’ (fwb to lovers, christmas fic)

SERIES

Die For You Masterlist (Bonten Ran)

Twitter (tobifuyu) | AO3

[tobifuyu]

Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fwb to lovers, oral (male reciving), tiny bit of angsty themes with happy ending, sappy fic, ran being a simp as always to feed my “he’s a self-centered bitch until he finds the one” agenda.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: surprise… i’m back with a christmas present! this is the first fic in a three pieces installment, which can all be read as standalone but come from the same universe and evolve in the span of three different christmases. in case you didn’t know, in japan christmas is a holiday in which people spend time with their partners because they reserve new year’s for family (not only i’ve seen it in a whole lot of shoujo anime but i’ve asked my japanese coworkers to confirm eheh). it’s also customary to eat cake! ;)

“Though you said you just wanted to get a coffee.”

The only thing peeking from the red scarf is the tip of his nose, flushed with the same color of the fabric that’s wrapped around his neck. You imagine his lips curved in a smirk under it.

When he came to pick you up earlier this morning, you thought he made a bold choice pairing the red garment with the unusual color of his hair. Up until then, you always believed red and purple would clash.

But Ran made it work, somehow. Like most things in his life, he did it with a confidence that made you question your world and how you view it even if for just a second.

“Well, that we did,” He shakes his hand, his long fingers easily supporting the weight of the full cup. You can see the steam rise from it and wonder if he’s not drinking it because he’s scared to burn his tongue or because he’s not ready to go home yet.

The two of you are currently walking around Shiba Park, not too far from Roppongi Hills. The peak of Tokyo Tower is hidden in plain sight behind the trees, stripped naked by the season, and adorned by strings of fairy lights.

In daylight they look clear, void of color, and empty, they come alive at night. Just like we both do, thinks Ran.

Ran does like winter. He believes winter poses more opportunities to forgo going out and staying in bed. He loves to gaze out of his apartment’s window and spot rain pit patting against the glass, watching the water droplets leave streaks behind as he lets himself get lulled back to sleep.

He also likes that he can layer more clothes, the more the merrier, he says, it’s easier to style it. You would agree, because he looks particularly elegant with his long black coat, left unbuttoned to glimpse at the nice sweater under it. The sight of his tightly clad body alone ignites a fire inside of you, one that is meek but insistent, and will soon start to burn you inside out.

What Ran doesn’t like it’s the cold. The wind is not fair against his pale skin, it leaves it red and stinging, much like his heart when he wakes up after a night together and doesn’t find you there. He does not like the cold, the cold of the sheets around him when you’ve left hours before.

He would like to pretend he’s clueless as to why, the same way you’re staring at him now, but he knows the reason behind it.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re wandering around without a destination in freezing weather?

“Can’t you just live a little?”

You scoff at his words, taking another sip out of your hot chocolate to bite back an insult. He’s already testing your patience, and you have very little of it left today of all days.

“We should go eat some cake, I’d love an excuse to grab a Mont Blanc for later at that bakery by your apartment. Y’know I like it there.”

Cake. You don’t like cake, and you don’t like what eating cake with him would mean today of all days.

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ran?” You sigh, head shaking in disappointment.

When you decided to start this with Ran, it was because you believed the man to be on the same wavelength as you. Ran had seemed like someone who knew what he wanted, and you had been sure that was not you.

He had promised that would stay the case. Your heart could not afford to be cared for by somebody.

When you look at him this time, you don’t notice how the wind is whipping the skin of his high cheeks red because his scarf is now covering everything but the lidded eyes staring at you.

At this rate Ran might end up hating winter: you seem to get colder with the season. He doesn’t think he would pick sleeping in over you, so if he could, he would like for summer to last all year long.

He’d like for you to cling to him even when the temperature is so high you can barely breathe in your cramped room, sweat sticking to both your skin and his, like your very first night together.

Because where the holidays bring glee to most, to you they’re a reminder of times that are long gone. A childhood spent decorating the tree and wishing for the perfect Christmas gift, now turned into a life of solitude. Your fast-paced job and lonely apartment away from home don’t leave space for the frivolity of Christmas.

“Didn’t wanna leave you alone,” he speaks so clearly of his intentions you almost feel shame, “Did ya think I would’ve left you bask in your gloominess, today? ‘M not that bad of an ass.”

You don’t think Ran owns you anything. He shouldn’t be picking up the pieces of you that other people left scattered and putting them back together as if it were a kids’ puzzle.

Ran knows you don’t really have anyone, he thinks he’s much like you, and would be just as bitter if he didn’t have his brother.

“You left Rin by himself?”

You hear his muffled laughter, “‘course not. Haruchiyo’s there. Y’know how they are.”

Yes. In love, you suppose. And you wonder if Ran thinks that is what it is. And what is it between you two?

You can feel his body warmth as he gravitates closer to you, “‘M cold,” is his excuse when his now ungloved hand catches yours. He intertwines your fingers, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb, before hiding them away in his coat pocket.

Gotta warm your cold heart up, he thinks.

“Saving you from this freezing weather,” is what he says out loud.

But you know it’s because the movement brings you closer, he pulls you so you’re now shoulder to shoulder, and you’re not strong enough to keep your head from falling on his. As if you were fresh snow in the sun, you melt in his presence.

“Let’s go get cake,” your voice is but a soft whisper, running past him like the breeze through the dying leaves, the wind finally settling down.

And that’s how he ends up in your apartment. Sounds of wet skin slapping against one another fill the void as he buries himself deep inside of you.

The sweet pastries Ran bought long forgotten over your kitchen counter, as he’d much rather taste the honeyed nectar spilling from between your thighs.

He’s grabbing at them now, the hold on your flesh sure to leave marks behind as he folds your legs so that he can loop his arms under your knees, keeping you spread open for him.

Big body caging you under his warmth with his forehead pressed against yours, and open mouths a breath away from the other, sharing sounds of pleasure without ever meeting in the middle.

It had been a tantalizing dance when you first started sleeping together. Like most people in your situation, you had both concluded that it would be best if you refrained from kissing. Deeming it too intimate.

Ran had caved after the third time you ended up in his bed, lips too needy to be kept from yours. He had let out a soft plead before you met him in the middle.

From then on you made it your mission to never kiss him outside of your bedroom activities, too scared of the power his kisses held over you. He and his annoying self had taken it as a challenge, always on the edge of his seat waiting to see who’d kiss the other first.

“Oh fuck this,” Ran groans before giving in.

You catch sight of his eyelids fluttering shut, hiding that violet color that you love so much, and your lips lock in a kiss that takes your breath as much as the hips still snapping against yours.

The coarse patch of hair on his navel repeatedly brushes against your puffed-up clit, making your hips jump up to chase the friction. The man is shamelessly shallowing your moans and caressing your tongue with his, teeth closing around your bottom lip when you go to pull away.

“Ngh, you taste like cake.”

Ran had snuck a bite of one of the pieces the moment he stepped out of the bakery, and the sweet taste on his tongue was, in your opinion, way better than the real deal.

His hand grasps your chin with firmness, the tips of his fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your blushed lips pucker up.

“So you do like cake, mh?”

“No, I don-“ Ran squeezes harder, and your mouth parts. A glob of spit falls on your tongue, one that you shallow under his scrutinizing gaze.

The moan that he lets out at that reverberates through your chest as he bends so close your bodies are now completely pressed against one another, sharing body heat.

This is what sex with Ran is, a concoction of rough touches and fucking that turn soft and slow when you least expect it. He likes to tease and surprise you, stealing the prettiest sounds from your lips and making them his. Making you his.

“Y’don’t like cake, s’okay. I know you like me,” one of his hands teasingly pinches your right nipple, respective eye closing in a wink.

You like that he makes sex fun, cracking jokes as if his cock weren’t pumping inside of you. You like it, you like him, but you can’t have him know that.

“That’s not-“ he interrupts you once again, this time with the snapping of his hips. He starts fucking you like he means it. Calculated thrusts hitting against the sweet spot only he knows how to find.

Ran is on his knees now, hands firmly planted on your raised hips, guiding you back and forth over his length.

“Fuck! Ran, fuck that feels good- so good-“

Slurred words leave your panting mouth as your hands hold onto the pillow behind your head for dear life, back arched and chest exposed to the greedy eyes that are raking over your body. From your perked-up nipples, begging to be played with, to the way your cunt is stretching around his cock.

“Don’t have enough hands for the things I wanna do to you,” Nonetheless, he repositions his right one so that it’s splayed over your navel, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles on your slicked clit.

“Fuckin’ cunt squeezing me so good,” moans spill from your mouth at his words, his voice is strained but maintains that hint of icy superiority and poise that is characteristic of Ran.

The way your hole flutters around him is maddening, Ran can feel your walls clenching against his length so perfectly. He can feel everything.

As a matter of fact, so do you. No matter how dumb he fucks you, you can’t ever miss out on the sweet feeling of his bare skin caressing your wet cunt. The squelching sounds are filling the air around you, making your cheeks heat up and your head lull to the side, trying to avoid his eyes in shame.

Half face buried in the pillow, you beg for him, “Ran, please, please. I need to cum so bad.”

His thrusts slow down, thumb stilling over your clit, and you hear him hum, pensive.

“Maybe if you looked at me, pretty, I might think about letting you.”

Gathering your remaining strength, you open your eyes to the sight of his glorious body above yours.

The wetness of his skin shines under the light of the outside street lamp, peeking in from the window, full body tattoo so enchanting, you watch it move and bend over his rising chest.

With violet eyes fixed on yours, he stands tall, unreachable.

The purple strands that fall from his gelled-back hairstyle are the only giveaway that he’s not so perfect and pristine after all, but he still looks like a god in your devoted eyes.

“Ran,” you call his name so softly he tumbles from the skies right to you.

His body bends to lay over yours, weight supported by his arms at your sides. With a snap of his hips, he breaks the longing stare you’re both sharing, mushroom tip hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh my god, that feels so-“ “I know, baby, s’okay.” One of his hands caresses over your head, before stopping at your neck and closing around your windpipe. The pressure of his touch against your feverish skin is delicious.

Your nails are now creating indents in the flesh of his arms. You want more, you need him to break you.

Ran can’t stop thrusting, pounding, burying himself inside of you to the hilt. He’s never wanted to be this close to someone before, never needed their warmth as he does yours.

He stops you before you can reach your clit with your fingers and, wanting to be the one to take you over the edge, he uses his free hand to rub over it vehemently.

“Coming, I’m coming,” are the rushed words that fall from your lips before you hit your peak. Wanton moans are gracing Ran’s ears, making his balls strain from holding back, but he wants you to bask in the glow of your orgasm before he reaches his.

“Doin’ so well fo’ me, look at this pretty pussy. Gushing all over my cock.” He looks down as he says this, watching how good he’s splitting you open, his cock coming out of you covered with the white sheen of your arousal, then plunging back in.

Your spent body is overstimulated, twitching in his hold as if trying to run away from the pleasure.

“You’re the only one, baby.” Ran lets slip, the sight of you in your most vulnerable state makes him just as weak, “S’all yours, so take it.” And he means it, you’re the only one.

Before you, life used to be in black and white. Ran had tried everything to paint it some other color, from violence to sex, but nothing ever came close to holding you in his arms.

Color is always all around him, but Ran’s devoid of it until you touch him.

You pull him down to you at the confession, arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed against one another, hard nipples tickling the soft skin.

The pace suddenly turns slow, and you wonder if Ran does not care about coming anymore. His focus is on you, and you’re staring back at him with just as much affection.

“Let me take care of you,” it’s what you suggest once you’ve come down from your high, fingers pressing against his shoulders to have him lay back in the sheets. Short hair sprawled over the white pillow like a halo behind his troubled head.

Both of your thighs are circling his hips, too scared to have Ran pull out, and be prevailed by that sense of emptiness and cold that comes from being away from him.

Fighting a whirlpool of emotions, you feel the need to silence your mind with his lips on yours. The clashing of your noses does nothing to stop you from kissing each other passionately.

The blame should be on Ran for making you fall for him and gifting you a brand new reason to celebrate Christmas, but you should’ve known better when he walked into your life with that snarky smirk that makes you sigh just thinking about it. You bite his lip in retaliation.

The feeling of Ran’s hands traveling over your skin and sinking with his strong grip on the flesh of your hips is what makes you separate your two halves, pussy clenching around the length that has been filling you up so perfectly. The need to make him feel just as good swells up on the inside.

“Fuck, please,” A choked whisper, falling from the pearlescent of his lips, wet with your love, blood pouring out of the bitten skin.

Purple and red do look good together, you think.

Your hands are warm, trailing up his stomach like the ink on his skin. He feels as if you’re moving too fast, scared he might blink and lose the moment, and at the same time too slow for his liking. He’s begging and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But you do.

Ran’s hands tighten around the bedsheets. He wants to touch everywhere you’ve been, wants to get stained in you. Like fresh paint that sticks on skin, he’s now colored in your shades.

Wet kisses are being left on the top of his shaft. Ran’s right hand finds your hair, waving his fingers between the loose strands to uncover the sight of your pretty face.

Lidded eyes are watching you glide your tongue down his hardness, caressing the bluish veins running across its sides, tasting yourself on it.

When your lips wrap around his sensitive tip you have to hold down his hips with both hands.

The peace you set is slow, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His girth stretches your lips and he thumbs the lower one as you look up at him with tears forming at your lashline.

“Mouth feels like fucking heaven, angel.”

Ran can barely contain himself, dangling from the edge, his balls heavy with his release.

When your nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock, you know you’ve successfully taken him whole. A huge accomplishment on your part, considering how blessed he is.

With your throat clenching around him, it doesn’t take long to feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Yeah, pretty girl, just like that. Make me cum, fuck!”

Bobbing your head at his request, you’re hasty in sucking your checks around his length, letting him come on the back of your tongue with languid moans that contain your name.

No need for him to ask, you’re one step ahead by swallowing his semen, making a show of it before leaving a wet kiss on his tip, to collect the white drop that was spilling over.

“Better than any cake.”

Booming laughter fills the space around you as you scoot closer to his tired body, laying on his naked frame and stealing all his warmth.

“I do like you.”

“I know,” Ran looks down at you, left check cutely smushed against his pecs, “Let’s spend New Year’s together.”

The faint movement of your hair brushing his skin tells him you’re agreeing, “And what about… next year?”

“Let’s spend them all together.”

You’re warm in his hold, and he figures the fairy lights might’ve come on in the park.

Ran thinks back to the rest of the untouched cake on your kitchen counter and is happy enough that the two of you have exchanged Christmas gifts in your own special way.

After all, he took away the cold, and you’ve brightened up his life.

That’s more of what you could’ve wished for.

[tobifuyu]

hey everyone!! i decided to open my ask for requests. just shoot if you have any ideas, i might write something about it, could be a oneshot or a prompt depending how far my mind takes me.

the continuation of “i just want a baby with the right one” is one the way along another oneshot that is basically just smut lmao. i’m also planning on posting the new chapters of “die for you” soon enough 😁

[tobifuyu]

I just want a baby with the right one

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: domestic and tooth-rotting fluff, ran being a sappy dad, talks of pregnancy and marriage.

wc: 1,5k

a/n: this is the first part of a longer oneshot with more angst and (ofc) smut that I’m gonna post soon enough. enjoy the short fluff for the time being. I –technically– don’t like kids but I get such baby fever when I see happy families so this is me wishing I could have a partner as perfect as ran!

Stepping foot into a silent home usually meant Ran was asleep somewhere.

After removing your shoes and dropping your bag on the kitchen island, your hunch was confirmed to be right when you found his big body sprawled on your shared bed.

The image is nothing out of the ordinary for you, your sleepy husband can’t go much without his needed rest, especially without you around to keep him company.

Whether now, or five years prior, everything would still look the same: messy purple hair sparse against the white bedding, rosy lips parted as he takes deep breaths, and tattooed chest going up and down as he does.

There is only one stark difference, something that makes your lips curl in a soft smile as you take in the scene.

His arms are bent, creating a makeshift safety harness for the little body that is resting in the middle of his naked chest.

As you carefully and silently approach the bed, you start glimpsing the little face of the angel that your husband is embracing.

Her rosy cheeks resemble that of her father, and you fight the urge to grace them with a kiss in fear of waking her up.

For a moment, you think back to the phone in your purse and curse yourself for not taking it out sooner, wanting to take a picture of the sweet moment, but in the end deciding against going all the way to the kitchen just to come back to either of them having moved.

Ran blinks at you as the mattress dips under your weight. You gather he was just resting his eyes, clever and responsible enough not to fall asleep while holding his newborn daughter.

He raises one finger to his lips to gesture at you to remain silent, but you can’t contain your giggle as you’re filled with a bubbling sense of joy. Part of it is to be blamed on the few drinks you had catching up with your friends, but mostly it has grown inside of you while watching Ran gently rub your daughter’s back.

He rolls his eyes but can’t hide a grin at your behavior, and you bend down to kiss it away with a quick but sweet peck, “Thank you for looking after her.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being with my daughter. I’m her dad y’know?”

“‘course I know, baby. I was there when we made her,” another giggle, Ran has to fight the urge to shut you up with loads of kisses, but you both know he can’t move too much in this position.

So you lay by his side, head resting on his shoulder as you cast your glance towards the sleeping baby.

You can feel your heart clenching, every moment you’re not by her side is like torture. You enjoyed going out alone for once, but you missed the two of them like crazy and spent the whole night pestering your friends about it.

“Can’t believe she’s turning one month old tomorrow,” you whisper, hand raised to gently stroke at her scrunched-up forehead.

“Time goes by so fast,” the breath Ran takes fills his lungs so much you see your little one raising up and down.

“It’s okay, baby, one month is not the end of the world.” You’re trying to rationalize it for the sake of both of you, but you know how emotional your husband gets with these types of things.

The passing of time has never been something he particularly enjoys, not only dreading his getting older but also his brother’s. You recall watching him mop around the day before every single one of Rindou’s birthdays (he raised the boy, after all). So you already knew things would only get worse when it came to his own kid.

“Next thing you know she’s gonna turn twenty and walk out of the house with a partner who probably has one of those dumb jobs like influencers.”

“Hate the game, not the player. You’re a club owner, you literally make money off of ‘em.” You bop his nose with the tip of your finger and his neck muscles strain as he raises his head from the pillow while trying to bite at it.

“That’s why I’m saying it’s stupid,” he pouts. You swear, he’s become such a dad.

But you remember how scared he was when you first found out you were pregnant. You both were.

You didn’t plan for kids. Yeah, Ran had always dreamed of building a family of his own, but he had agreed with you that if you never felt ready, it would be okay.

The two of you were a family already, with Rindou popping by from time to time, and plans of getting a dog if you ever felt like shaking things up.

You were doing okay. Then it happened.

Both of you had always been so careful, so you reasoned that it was just meant to be.

Ran was scared of becoming a dad. He spent his early life taking care of Rindou, and he was fulfilled enough to just enjoy his adult years being with his wife. Traveling, clubbing, lazing in bed. The two of you only cared for one another and it was more than he thought he would ever get in life.

Ran’s pure excitement took over his fear pretty quickly, but he held it in for some time because he could tell how much more shaken up you were by the news.

You were not ready to become a mother, you didn’t think you had it in you. You could barely take care of yourself, how would you help in raising a baby? And it’s not like you could leave the job to Ran, he already had to deal with it alone once, you wouldn’t do such a thing to him again.

It took you some days to make your decision and come to peace with it, days where you closed up to Ran and laid alone in bed, thinking about how your body would change, how much pain you would have to endure, all the sacrifices and scary aspects of pregnancy and ultimately raising a human life.

Ran had come back from work one day and found you in the kitchen baking a cake, or rather trying to. Your cheeks were dusted with flour, and you were dipping a finger in the bowl filled with custard.

“Taste test?” He had asked with a raised brow while removing his coat and shoes at the door.

“Mh, I think our baby likes this one.”

“Do they now? Are you already blaming them for your cravings?” With lips curved in a smile, he had approached you slowly, holding out his arms as you sank into them, head resting on his jacket-covered shoulder.

“I was trying to bake a cake to celebrate our pregnancy. ‘m sorry it took me so long, Ran. I want this baby with you.”

Ran had held you a little tighter at that, softly stroking down the length of your hair while whispering reassuring promises in your ears, tears now wetting both of your faces.

“It’s gonna be okay, my love. As long as we’re together, everything is gonna be alright.”

“As long as we’re with her, everything is gonna be alright.” You repeat his words from then, staring up at his lilac eyes from under your lashes.

He’s already gazing down at you with a look that you know well by now, one that is filled with love and longing. No matter how close you are, Ran always seems to want you even closer.

“I love you, my sweet girl. I love both of you so much. I’m never leaving you, I promise.” He slithers one of his hands under your body, holding the back of your shoulder to keep you pressed against his side, all while softly caressing the skin, copying the movement he was drawing on the smaller back of your sleepy daughter, “Swear on my life.”

A short kiss is left on his collarbone by your lips before you bend down to sweetly press them on top of your daughter’s small head of light hair.

“Now tell me you love us too!” Ran whines and presses the side of his face against yours, squishing your cheeks together as little giggles shake both of your bodies. All the attempts at silencing him are worthless, and you’re forced to give in to his pleading as he starts tickling your side.

“Ran, I love you, baby! And I love our babygirl. I promise, you guys are my whole life.”

All that commotion must’ve finally woken up the tiny girl because the silent room is now filled with laughter and the cries of a baby that would’ve once annoyed you, but now sound like music to your ears.

In that moment you realize that your words aren’t just mindless and sweet-coated, a life without either one of them truly wouldn’t be worth living. And you decide to not give up your family for anything in the world.

[tobifuyu]

omg are you also the tobifuyu on twitter?

yep that’s me!! i tried linking my twt on my masterlist but i don’t think that’s working :/

[tobifuyu]

New hair, who dis?

Ran Haitani x f!reader

After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.

cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.

wc: 9,7k

a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.

One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.

You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.

Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.

You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.

There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.

Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?

“Ran, what the fuck?”

“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.

The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.

“I cut my hair.”

“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.

It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.

You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.

It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.

“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.

He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.

Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.

Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?

You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”

He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”

You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.

“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”

The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.

Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.

An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.

Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.

“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.

My sleepy boy, you think.

That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.

Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.

You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.

The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.

Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.

He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.

You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.

Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.

Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?

Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.

So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.

You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.

You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.

Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.

“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”

“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.

“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.

“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?

“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?

“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.

Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.

He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.

Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.

In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.

“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.

Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.

The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.

You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.

“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.

It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.

All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.

You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.

“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.

Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“

“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”

“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”

He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.

Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.

“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”

His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.

“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.

“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.

His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.

This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”

“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”

Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.

“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.

“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.

“Go at it, babygirl.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.

Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.

“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.

Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.

One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.

He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.

The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.

You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.

It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.

That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.

He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.

His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.

At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.

You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.

He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.

“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.

“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”

“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”

You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.

“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”

So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.

“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.

“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”

It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“

The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.

Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”

You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.

Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.

You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.

His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.

“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.

“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.

“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”

He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.

It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.

“I need you, Ran.”

Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.

The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.

“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”

You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.

“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.

More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.

You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.

He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.

His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.

You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.

“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.

He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.

It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.

You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.

Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.

“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.

Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.

It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.

When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.

“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.

“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.

He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.

You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”

You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.

He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.

Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.

“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.

You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.

“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”

You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.

You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.

Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.

Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.

You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.

Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.

He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.

He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.

Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.

He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.

“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”

He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”

“What is it that you want, use your words.”

“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.

Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.

You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.

“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.

Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.

But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.

It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.

You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.

The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.

“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.

His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.

He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.

You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.

He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.

Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.

Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.

“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.

His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.

He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.

He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.

“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.

You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.

Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.

“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”

He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.

But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.

You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”

You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.

Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.

Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.

“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.

“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”

A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.

It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.

His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.

Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.

As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.

After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.

“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.

“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.

“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”

Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.

When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”

The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.

Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”

You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.

“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”

The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.

“Want you to be mine, baby.”

“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.

Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.

And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.

Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.

You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.

Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.

[tobifuyu]

Heatwave

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

A heatwave hits Tokyo and you have to deal with a clingy, and way too hot, Ran Haitani.

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fluff, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, whiny ran, ran is smitten.

words count: 3.8k

Sleeping in the same bed as Ran means waking up in a furnace. Lanky body stretching over the mattress, long limbs reaching over for you the moment you try running away from the heat.

It’s almost like he can sense you’re not by his side anymore, unconsciously trying to have you back in his arms.

Tonight the air in the room is unbreathable. It’s summer, the humidity makes the city feel way hotter than it should be. You forgot to turn the ac on and the idea of getting up to look for the remote in the dark is so far out of your mind.

“Ran, baby. Let go of me,” You mumble between shallow breaths, still too groggy to care about not slurring your words. You know it’s pointless, though, Ran is never gonna hear your desperate tone unless you arouse him from his sleep.

He is a deep sleeper and he doesn’t particularly enjoy getting woken up.

You try, once again, removing yourself from his hold. It hurts you, knowing how much he likes to cuddle with you in his sleep and how inviting his hands look resting on your skin, but you can already feel the sweat wetting the back of your neck. The moment you raise his heavy arm and lift the blanket from your body, you can hear him groan.

“Mh,” he grunts at you angrily, big palm coming to rest on your hip as he grabs it to pull your frame back into his chest.

God, this annoying man-child.

If he won’t let you go, there’s no other way to go about it if not by waking him up. You really don’t want to disturb his sleep, considering the ungodly hours he does at his job and how much he cares for his beauty rest, but he’s now impeding yours. You feel like dying in this heat and your throat is getting perched as minutes go by.

You turn in his hold, now facing him, shaking his frame as you call his name once again, “Baby please, just let me go, it’s too hot.”

“No,” his answer is raspy and stubborn like the man he is, and he lowers his head to rest it on the plush of your chest as he hums happily.

You let out a sigh of defeat and bring your hands to the back of his head, running the tips of your fingers between his un-gelled short locks out of habit.

“Just know that you’ll wake up tomorrow and I’ll be dead,” you’re just kidding, but the statement makes Ran slightly release his hold on you.

“Please, don’t go,” He sleepily whispers with such vulnerability that makes your heart ache for him. You scratch the patch of skin behind his ear and make him shiver in your embrace as you bend to kiss the crown of his head.

You love this man so much, you don’t think you could ever live without him.

You leave another peck on his forehead, then another on his nose as you scoot down to his level. His handsome face is puffy from sleep, and his lavender haze is now focused on you as you move closer to kiss his soft lips.

The press of your mouths together is short and sweet as he finally awakens.

“I’m not going anywhere, just a couple centimeters away from the radiator that is your body,” you try to explain, grasping his clenched jaw between your palms.

“Can’t sleep without you near,” he states as a matter of fact.

You know that is a lie, this man could sleep anywhere and at all times, but you don’t get to protest as he reaches over once again to kiss you. His lips encase yours while his nose rubs against your own, his eyes closing to savor the moment.

You gently push him away, scolding him with your stare as you tell him he’s not being reasonable or helpful, “At least get up to turn on the ac, if you wanna hold me so bad.”

“Or you could just get naked,” he suggests, winking as a smug grin makes its way on his pretty face. You know the moment the suggestion popped up in his head, he’s already getting ideas, you can sense it in the way his fingers are now running under the hem of your sleep shirt.

“Turn the ac on. And bring me some water while you’re at it, then I might even take my clothes off. Just for you,” you try to bribe him, but can’t help hiding an amused smile.

At first you think he’s not gonna do it, but then you hear him let out a groan as he stretches his long body and leaves the bed. Out of the two, he’s the one who cherishes sleep the most, but you’re the laziest.

The beep of the ac as he turns it on and the steps he takes to the kitchen resound in the otherwise silent room as you kick the covers to the bottom of the bed. As promised, you grasp the hem of your shirt to remove it and chunk it in the direction of the sofa, waiting for the cooling air to hit your panties-covered body.

When Ran comes back in the room, you’re slipping back into a slumber, but he pats your shoulder and cradles the back of your head in his palm, raising it to help you drink the cold water you requested.

“Thank you, baby,” you pull him in by the back of his neck as he sits the glass on the nightstand, now moving over your frame as he rests on his bent elbows.

“My pleasure,” he hums, lowering himself to touch your skin with his, hips settling between your parted legs while he pecks your lips, “Mh, I see you did get naked.”

Another peck, “‘course, I keep all of my promises.”

“That’s good,” your arms are draped loosely over his broad shoulders, hands running along the skin as you drag him even closer, “Means I get to be the one making you sweat now.”

Your chuckle gets cut short by his mouth descending onto yours, this time with a purpose. His kisses start slow, lips repeatedly encasing your own, as he sucks the skin enough to make it hurt, pleasurably.

Ran’s tongue runs across the seam of your mouth which you part willingly to let him in, meeting him halfway trying to fight for dominance because you like to irk him, no matter how pointless it might be.

He lets out a moan in your mouth, liking the way you’re fighting back, and your body instantly reacts to the sound by enclosing his hips between your thighs.

Ran starts rubbing against you while his cock hardens. He can already feel how wet you are through the cloth, the both of you only clad in underwear.

“Ran-“ you whisper his name between rushed kisses and the knocking of your teeth. He recognizes the desperation in your tone and reels in it. “Sh, baby. Let’s take it slow, mh?”

He’s doing it on purpose, he likes to drive you mad as much as you do. He’s a generous lover, but does not give without a little teasing.

His lips start carefully mapping out the path that he knows oh so well down your body. He has it memorized by now, and knows where to kiss, lick and bite to make you sound just the way he craves.

Ran reaches your exposed chest, sucking the pebbled nipple in his mouth as he caresses the other breast. You arch your back and press against him. He knows not to leave any part of you unattended, Ran loves to spoil you.

That’s why he can’t bring himself to tell you no when you grip his messy hair and bring him back up for another kiss, one of your hands reaching down to snap the elastic of his boxers over his pelvis, making him flinch and the both of you let out a laugh against each others’ lips at his reaction.

You reach inside the cotton to grasp his hardened length. He’s heavy and warm in your hold, you stroke him a couple of times and feel him get stiffer. With the pad of your thumb you circle his head, “Fuck,” he hisses when you press against his silt, precome collecting on your fingertips.

He’s kissing your neck now, enjoying the slow touches on his hardness, bucking his hips against your hand when you squeeze just a little tighter, “I thought you said to take it slow?” you tease him. Sometimes he needs to get a taste of his own medicine.

He stamps a kiss on your lips, loud and wet, and doesn’t even bother replying to you as he squats between your legs before grasping the sides of your panties. He drags them down slowly, fixed on your cunt getting exposed and the strings of your wetness sticking to the lace.

Ran takes a look at you, hair messy and sprawled on the pillow, cheeks rosy and chest heaving. Your pebbled nipples and spread legs are not the only things giving away how needy you are, “Fuck, so pretty.”

He bends down and your thighs squish his head the moment he laps at your clit. You love when he dives straight in, means he can’t wait to get a taste of you, but the zero warning on his side makes you moan loudly.

You lower your gaze onto his, fixed on your reddening face to memorize every single one of your reactions as he flattens his tongue over your cunt, the tip parting your lips to collect the liquid he has been craving a taste of.

“This wet already?” he snickers as he slaps your cunt with his palm, making you jump. His fingers find their way to your opening to massage and stretch the entrance as his lips are circling your clit, sucking it into his mouth to make sure you start pleading for him.

“Ran, baby. Please, want you inside,” you’re pulling on his hair, trying to get his face away from between your legs.

He complies, your neediness starting to get to him. He would love to spend hours between your thighs as he normally does, but he also knows the both of you are too tired for that, so he makes a mental note to wake you up with his tongue in the morning.

You take off his boxers swiftly, and he lets you because he lives off that look you get when you concentrate while doing something, whatever that may be. He’s just so smitten, if you could read his mind you’d never stop making fun of him. But he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he wishes you could, just so you might finally understand the weight of what he feels. Ran has never been great at sharing his feelings.

Settling between your legs is what he does after. Usually, he lets you ride him whenever he’s too tired to put you to sleep himself, but tonight he just wants you to lay there and let him love you. It’s been a long week of grueling work and he misses you. Craves you so much that he can’t resist your whines anymore.

“You sure you can take me like this, pretty girl?”

“Mhmh, ‘m positive. I need you so bad,” His cock is big, he usually spends some time prepping you, but you seem resolute about this as you grasp the base of his length and position his tip at your entrance. Ran hisses, the feeling of your warm skin brushing his is so delicious. You’re aware of how needy Ran can get when he’s tired, unlike his usual dominant self, and you have to admit you can’t help but feel even more turned on whenever you manage to make him whine for you.

When he pushes in, your jaw goes slack, no sound is coming out of your open mouth other than the deep breaths you take to keep yourself grounded. He is girthy, the very first time you had him made you nearly give up halfway through, but you’ve gotten used to taking him, and the burning stretch is now nothing but a reassurance of what pleasure is gonna come after.

The warmth of his forehead rests on your shoulder as he heaves in your ear, eyes squeezed shut and hands holding the fat of your hips to pin you down tightly. Ran needs a second to collect himself cause if he doesn’t he’s either gonna start fucking into you before you’re ready or just come from the way you’re gripping him alone.

You’re so wet, his cock is slipping in slowly and you can feel all of him, rounded tip and the veins on his length, brushing against your walls. Ran bottoms out but doesn’t dare to move, navel pressed so tightly against yours that when you try raising your hips you have very little wiggle room.

“Ran, baby, please?” Oh, Ran is just delighted. He loves when you call him baby, makes him feel loved and cared for, especially paired with the way you’re stroking the back of his head while cradling him and softly begging for him to move. So of course he does just that, he’d do anything to please you.

The canting of his hips starts slow, the drag of his cock feels delicious inside of you, and you spread your legs wider to make him reach even deeper. “Fuck, pretty girl. You feel so fucking good. S’good.” He’s a blubbering mess, his lips are leaving wet kisses all over your neck, making you moan out when he sucks on the soft patch of skin right below your ear.

“Want me to ride you?” You ask him, not wanting to move from under the weight of his body but also needing him to feel as good and taken care of as he always makes you feel.

“No need princess,” the kisses are now dragging lower towards your chest, he bites one of your nipples between his teeth making you arch your back once again, a sign that he’s collected himself and is offended by how quickly you were ready to take over. He grasps the back of your left knee in his hand, bending the leg while opening you up to him, far more than what you’re able to stretch on your own, and you feel him brush your cervix with his leaky tip. His thrusts are now harsher, he pulls out all the way just to slam back in, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he aims for that spot inside of you, the one he loves to hit while watching down on you as he is now, resting on his bent arm.

All the confidence you were sporting a moment ago is wiped from your face in mere seconds, now replaced by your big eyes filling with tears as the pleasure knocks the breath out of you. “Mh, that’s it, there’s my good girl. Let me do all the fucking now, will you?”

His cheeks are stained red, spit-slicked lips being bitten between his pearly whites as he glances down at where the two of you are connected. “Shit, look at that.” He’s not asking, he’s ordering you and you know better than to let your eyes flutter shut.

The grasp on the back of your thigh doesn’t waver as he pulls out, his other hand fisting the base of his length as he slaps it over your clit, dragging his precome and your wetness all over the reddening skin. He’s making a show of it. “You’re making a fucking mess. S’pretty and wet, all fo’ me. Right? Say it’s all fo’ me.”

The pad of his thumb is rubbing your puffy clit as he awaits your answer, holding back from fucking you until you can’t utter a single sentence anymore, “All for you, Ran!”

“That’s right, pretty girl. This pretty pussy is all mine.”

He slips back in, the squelching sound and panting are the only things your ringing ears can process after his sentence. You’re full-on moaning now, hands holding onto his shoulders as he moves above you. His fingers grasp the back of your other knee, locking both of them in the crease of his bent arms, bending your body at an angle that makes it so easy for him to piston into you, no matter how hard your cunt is clenching down on him. The coil in your lower belly is about to snap, you can’t think straight anymore with the way his purple eyes are staring down at you under the shade of his pretty lashes. “Ra-Ran!” You whine, scratching down his back with one of your hands, sure to be drawing blood. “‘m gonna come, baby, ‘m coming.”

His left hand slithers down between your bodies as he applies pressure over your navel, pushing down with all his might as he abuses your spot from the inside, thumb reaching lower to massage your clit. “Give it to me, pretty, come all over my cock.”

His deep voice is your undoing. You come with a call of his name, tightening your grip around his neck to pull him closer to your quivering body and down for a kiss. You can barely breathe, but the way his tongue sneaks inside your mouth makes the feeling of asphyxiation even sweeter.

Your orgasm is dragged out by his unstopping thrusts, the only giveaway of him acknowledging the fact that you came is the groans and moans the lets out against your lips at the way you’re squeezing him.

“Fuck Ran, baby, too much,” You’re back to begging, but now for him to stop. You’re getting overstimulated, the coarse hair over his length is brushing against your soft spot just right. But he’s relentless and starts to get ruthless in his speed.

You know he needs to come and that he’s not gonna let himself go unless you reach your high again. That’s just how Ran is, ripping one orgasm out of you is not enough for him. It’s not only to stroke his big ego, but also cause that is his way of showing love, of putting himself out there and drilling into your head how much he wants and needs you.

“One more pretty girl, just one more.”

You could tell him that you can’t, that you’re spent, but the both of you know it would be a lie. You want it just as much as he does, and all it takes is a couple more minutes for you to get used to his thrusting again, and for the overstimulation to blend into burning pleasure.

“Oh my fucking god– Ran, fuck fuck–“ You’re swearing loudly, gripping onto his body with both your arms and legs as he fucks into you like he means it. You love the way his frame towers over you, he’s so big and the strength he puts into his thrusts is impressive, hips slamming into yours repeatedly, the pressure of your pelvises crashing into one another is just as good as the way he’s shaping your insides.

“Want you to come fo’ me, need to feel you, my love,” His fingers find your clit once again, he flicks it before rubbing against it with precision, the wetness on the skin aiding his fast movements as he takes you to your end once again. “That’s it, baby, just like that. What a fucking good girl, milk me dry.” He’s holding your chin in a firm hold with his big palm, to keep you from looking away from him as fat tears run down your pretty face.

The sight of you makes him double over, his teeth are scraping your earlobe, Ran’s warm breath hits your neck as he pants and groans. He’s so close he’s lost it, his hips are stuttering and you take matters into your own hands as you buck up into him, your walls are clenching around his length with the aftermath of your orgasm.

“Come for me, baby,” You beg him in between deep breaths, hands tangled in his short locks. You use the hold on his hair to redirect his face in front of yours, planting your lips on his and stealing the remaining of his breath away, just like he loves doing to you. “Fill me up,” you whisper against his parted mouth, an invitation he can’t help but accept as he comes while saying your name, white ropes of cum sticking to your walls and overflowing your cunt as he pushes it back in with his sensitive cock.

“‘m gonna eat it out of you in the morning,” he promises shamelessly, referring to the mess the both of you made as he squeezes your ass, and a whimper leaves your lips at the picture he just painted in your head.

He crashes over your body, kissing your collarbone as he regains his breath.

Your mind is so foggy, all you can feel, hear, smell, and taste is Ran. It’s so euphoric. His movements slow to an alt as he comes down from his high. You feel full, warm, and sweaty and for a moment you remember the reason why you even got in this predicament in the first place, but you don’t care about the temperature of the room anymore as your spent bodies stay tangled together.

“Can’t move, ‘m too tired,” he mumbles against your damp skin, lazy eyes staring up at you apologetically.

“‘s okay, baby, rest,” You lay a kiss on his forehead after brushing away the loose hair, “Thank you for turning on the ac.”

Your voice is soft, you look at him with tired eyes and the gentle rise and fall of your chest is pulling him back under. He thinks he would do anything for you if you asked him.

“Mhmh, can I stay inside?” His eyelids are fluttering closed while you nod, not ready to part from his body just yet, “You’re gonna get cold if I don’t, I know you won’t last long with the ac on and I’m not getting up again, babygirl.” You laugh at his raspy voice, maybe he’s already slipping back into dreamland if he hasn’t realized you’ve already given your consent and he’s trying to bargain for a little more of you.

“You can keep me warm, my love. Thank you.”

And Ran is gonna do just that, not only tonight but every other night for the rest of your lives. He leaves a kiss above your left breast.

“No, thank you… I love you.”

Your heart does a backflip, and you hold him closer.

“Love you more, Ran.”

You’re never gonna ask him to let go of you ever again, no matter how hot it might get.

[tobifuyu]

Die For You • Chapter 02

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

Out Of Time: There's so much trauma in my life, I've been so cold to the ones who loved me, baby. I look back now and I realize and I remember when I held you, you begged me with your drowning eyes to stay and I regret I didn't tell you.

cw: nsfw, mdni, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, fluff, angst, references to depression, drugs, panic attacks, blood and violence, prostitution, basically anything that has to do with bonten, protective haitani ran, sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning.

Masterlist. | Previous Chapter.

Chizu opens her eyes to black. The room she finds herself in is dark. Not even a ray of sun is shining from the windows, that is if the room even has any.

Her movements are lethargic and she can barely grasp what is happening around her. She can feel someone’s hands moving along her body, probably patching her up, as she vaguely remembers getting stabbed.

She wakes up because the air that pricks at her skin is too cold, making shivers run down her body, but the fever she broke into pulls her under once again before she can wonder what has happened to Draken.

 

After what feels like hours, something grabs at her ankle, pulling on her leg to get her attention.

“You need to wake up.”

Chizu groans, stabbing pain wrecking her abdomen. Her eyelids flutter as she fights to stay awake. She stretches her arms and realizes she’s resting on a big mattress, the sheets covering its surface are soft to the touch, almost silklike.

Her eyes finally get used to the darkness of the room, making the tiny light now coming from a lamp even more bright. Someone must’ve turned that one on.

There’s a silhouette sitting on the edge of the bed, dark clothes, crisp white hair, and a noticeable Bonten tattoo painted on the back of his curved neck.

“Chizu,” Mikey breaks the silence, his voice is soft, but she doesn’t dare to let her guard down.

“Haruchi- Sanzu, stabbed me?” She needs to remain calm and to do so, she has to collect all the puzzle pieces and try to piece back together what happened that night.

“It’s okay, we had you stitched up,” Mikey doesn’t seem to be one to waste time talking anymore.

“How long was I out for?” The woman tries to sit up, but the pain is so excruciating that she falls back in bed with a groan. Mikey turns to look at her right this moment, black eyes so void of emotion that she thinks he must’ve moved to check on the sound on reflex rather than because he cares.

“Where is Draken?” She shoots another question his way, impatient to know whether she was the only one being held captive. She fears for his life. They’ve chosen to go through this together, but she wouldn’t forgive herself if they had killed him already.

“He’s alive. You slept the whole day.”

Fuck, thank god. She nods in understanding. The familiar sound of a plastic wrap being opened nearly brings a smile to her face, before she remembers her situation. Mikey is snacking, after he had someone stab her.

“You got married,” he muses in between bites, “Chifuyu, right?”

Fuck fuck fuck, he must’ve seen the ring that I forgot to take off like a fucking idiot. That could jeopardize Chifuyu and the whole operation, I need to think fast-

“No need to lie, I had you followed. I know you were living with him.”

Calm down, she breathes out, you have multiple cover stories prepared just for this.

“It was a relationship of convenience,” now more than ever, she feels her words are true. Their relationship was, after all, built on comfort and not much else.

“Mhmh,” he takes another bite, “What do you want from Bonten, Chizu?”

“I want in, I want to join the organization.”

Once again, she pushes herself on her elbows as she grits her teeth in pain, trying to sit up and take a peek at his face. He turns and scoots over to her on the center of the bed, pushing at her shoulder with his free hand to have her lay back.

“You need to lay down and rest. You were stabbed.”

She’s fucking aware of that! “It was your pet that stabbed me-“

Mikey leans over to the nightstand she had yet to notice and grabs her a bottle, “Shut up, drink some water. I want to know why you want to join Bonten so desperately that you’ve been touring our clubs for months. You’re a detective, are they pushing you to go undercover?”

She gulps down the refreshing liquid as he holds up her head, grateful for his help but unwilling to give him a response. Chizu is aware that his mind should go there first, it’s the most plausible explanation.

“I’m already surprised by the fact that they would give a position of your caliber to someone who has past relations with gangs. Why else if not to use you like a chess piece?”

Chizu realizes she had feared meeting him for the longest time, no matter how much she craved to. The idea of finding the man completely changed, lost in madness as she remembered him to be the last time she and Toman had seen him, has been driving her crazy. But Mikey seems to be calm and aware, eerily so.

“I’m not sure why it was given to me. But I worked hard for it. I wanted to find you, Manjirou,” Chizu grabs at his wrist, looking up at him like she hasn’t in ten years.

Still, he looks so different. He’s not the bright-eyed kid that he used to be. His face is caved in and purplish marks are staining his under eyes, making him look like he barely gets any sun or sleep, let alone food other than his snacks.

There’s not a trace of a smile or any sort of happiness as he stares at her. She hoped he would’ve been somewhat content about seeing an old friend after such a long time. At least she’s relieved he hasn’t killed her, yet.

“I missed you, ‘jiro. I spent the last ten years of my life trying to find you. I have nothing left to live for, but you. You have to trust me.”

Her voice is shaky, it’s hard for her to speak. The fever hasn’t gone down, and the pain in her belly is spreading through her lower back and legs. The numbing effect of the painkillers someone must’ve slipped her while she was asleep is fading as her heart rate accelerates with every word.

She’s telling the truth. After all, the main point of her crafted plan was always to wing it. Maybe, she really shouldn’t have been given that badge…

—

The pain had knocked her out once again. This time she comes to, in what she figures is the same room as before, but the heavy black curtains have been drawn to the sides to let the blinding sun illuminate the elegant furniture.

Outside the glass panels, Chizu can see the tall buildings of Tokyo scattered in front of her. This floor is pretty up high. I wonder where I am.

In front of the floor to ceilings windows there’s a heavy desk, the wood is dark and polished, a simple sturdy chair behind it. On its right is a closed door, and the center of the room is inhabited by a huge bed. Its frame is straight out of a princess movie, canopy drapes of red velvet fall onto the black silk sheets, making the dark of its wood look even more elegant. A dresser is in front of her, but no tv or any other personal objects seem to decorate the room.

Must be an empty room.

While she is observing her surroundings a knock can be heard on the door closest to the bed. Chizu is taken aback for a second,

not sure whether she should call out to them or not, but when she sees that no one is making their way into the room, she clears her throat and rasps out a “Come in.”

She’s greeted by white hair, but this time its owner sports them in a long hairstyle parted to the side with the left of his head shaved in a striped pattern. Tattooed right there, black ink standing out against the snowlike background, is the infamous Hanafuda.

“Glad to see you awake, Chizu-chan.”

Kokonoi Hajime makes his way into the room, lithe body draped in expensive silks and a traditional design. His mouth stretches in a small grin that he tops off by peeking his tongue out at her.

“How’s being alive treating you?” He walks closer to the bed, looking at her funny as she struggles to get up. However, she notices it has become considerably easier to do so without feeling excruciating pain. Chizu thinks she must’ve slept at least another full day or so for it to heal to this length.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got the best doctors around. And the best drugs. You’ll be as good as new in a couple more days.”

His smirk does nothing to amuse her, and he makes a joke about how hard it is to entertain her. Kokonoi throws a pair of sweatpants and a shirt her way before gesturing towards the closed door.

“Go take a shower, this room stinks like death.”

 

Chizu feels refreshed after showering. The bathroom is big and clean, which is a relief. The clothes she was given fit too big, she’s not exactly as tall as whoever its owner is.

When she complains about it, Kokonoi lets her know that they just had some laying around, it’s not like they would give her used garments. “That’s nice of you, but you guys are okay with stabbing me?”

“May I remind you where you waltzed yourself into?”

“Okay, no need to be an asshole. I’ve been stabbed, you know?” Kokonoi Hajime isn’t exactly scary. He looks, in fact, rather friendly, but she has to remind herself that he must be dangerous nonetheless, if he’s a top executive of Bonten. She has to stop her sarcastic self from winning them another stab wound.

She’s gonna have to work really hard to bite her tongue around these people.

“Are you gonna use that as an excuse for everything from now on?” He arches a trimmed brow, making his earring jingle as he turns to stare at her, “I’m actually doing you a favor. The boss said I get to take you around, like a little puppy. A few hours of sunlight and some new clothes will do you good.”

“Maybe then you’ll stop complaining,” He whispers the last part. He doesn’t want his daily headache to get worse because of a whiny stray they picked up at some club.

He accepted this assignment ‘cause Mikey has asked him to, and Mikey doesn’t usually ask. He tells them to. So he thought he must’ve been rather desperate to find someone fitting for the role.

Mikey couldn’t exactly assign anyone of their lower ranks because, no matter how much he trusts the system of enrollment and punishment imposed by Sanzu and doesn’t doubt that any of them could turn on the organization, he knows very few people could take on her in case she were to escape.

This means that any of the executives will have to do. He just had to cross out all of those who wouldn’t shy away from fighting a woman, so that takes out Sanzu and Rindou straight off the bat. And then again, out with all of those who would try to bed her, meaning Mochi, Takeomi, and Ran would have to keep their distance for now. That leaves him with Kakucho, who he would rather have come along on the field as a shipment was to be delivered the very same day, and Kokonoi Hajime.

Kokonoi Hajime, the money maker. Koko had a knack for supervising the organization from behind the scenes. His position didn’t require him to be on the field. He was not a fan of violence, not anymore. The arrays of purplish and yellowish tones that show up on someone’s skin after a fight always remind him of his time in Black Dragon. Of Inupi. So he steers clear.

Kokonoi is the kind of man who dresses in deep red so that the splashes of blood won’t noticeably stain his clothes when he closes a deal gone wrong with the mad dog by his side.

Hajime joined Bonten because he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He is in Bonten because he needs a purpose, he wants to feel needed.

So Mikey figures who better than him, the smart guy who likes to play puppeteer, to keep track of a cunning detective. It wouldn’t be his first time.

Kokonoi mentally praises him for his choice, still obnoxiously annoyed by having to chaperone the woman. She had already cursed him out. She would’ve been dead by now with any of the others.

But at the end of the day, as long as his numbers add up and he gets his fat share, Kokonoi doesn’t feel like complaining.

A headache is nothing that one of his pills can’t fix.

“Shall we go? I’ll let you have a look around the top floors of the headquarters.”

Chizu is confused. If Mikey is letting her buy clothes (out of all things) it must mean he doesn’t plan on killing her yet, but giving her the possibility to study and memorize the top floor of what she figures is their headquarters, means that he will, eventually. At least, he’s not planning on letting her out of here alive.

 

Chizu thinks Kokonoi must be one of the prettiest men she has ever seen. His elegance is the defining trait that makes him stand out even more.

She’s trying to grasp the situation as they roam around the floor. She finds herself more interested in studying the man rather than finding her way out of there, knowing that the odds are against her favor in a building such as this one. Guards must be placed all over, or they wouldn’t have left me with such a weak guy.

She knows better than to judge a person from their appearance, especially considering Mikey is half his height and could probably knock the both of them unconscious with a single kick. But this Kokonoi has not a single scratch on his porcelain skin. His hands are manicured and kept better than her own. He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.

The tour he takes her on is uneventful, the floor’s hallways are pretty scarce, and they don’t meet any of the big fishes. Most of the doors are locked, but he shows her around the main areas.

There’s a standard conference room with a long glass table and plenty of chairs, the next one is a big office with a desk in its middle and two couches facing each other. A bar is placed on its far wall.

“This is usually where we do our meetings, we use the conference hall if Mikey’s pissed off, if he’s feeling more laid back we get to sip on something and lounge around in the other room.”

Chizu observes how easygoing Kokonoi is, and wonders why would that be. He’s actually quite fun to be around. This might be part of their plan to bring my guard down.

He stops again outside the door of the room you found yourself in, “This is Mikey’s room.”

“Why the fuck am I staying in Mikey’s room? I’m confused.”

“Would you rather we move you in with Sanzu?” He looks at Chizu like she’s grown another head. Koko doesn’t think she’s truly yet realized what she willingly walked herself into. He’s being nice to her because there’s always gotta be one nice cop in this game they’re playing. She is lucky she hasn’t met the bad one yet. Or quite.

“Touché.”

After all, the rooms are not their residence, it’s just a place for them to rest when they’re in the headquarters. The executives have properties all over Japan, and most tend to reside in those closer to their area of competence in Tokyo. Others have chosen to sleep in this same building, just upstairs, where the top two upper floors give space to the penthouses.

“Mikey and Sanzu usually stay on this floor, Ran and Takeomi have their place here. I try to go and sleep as far away from this place as possible so that I don’t wake up to screaming and raging.”

“I thought the Haitani brothers would be in Roppongi.”

“Yeah, Rindou is still there. Kakucho barely sleeps, I can’t even tell you if he leaves this place at all. To be honest I don’t give a fuck. And I only ever see Mochi around when he has to complain about his paycheck. I’m hoping someone will shoot him sooner or later, before I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

An exhausted sigh leaves his parted lips and the man massages the side of his neck as if the weight of his job is dragging him down.

“So this building is just a huge waste of money, then?” Maybe, after analyzing what she knows about Kokonoi, she can get to the man before he does.

“I see we speak the same language. It’s huge, it draws a lot of attention, and being all here clumped together is more dangerous than strategic, but we reside in a zone where the police are completely under our payroll. We’re untouchable.”

She wonders where that could be, she’s always been great with directions but she’s never been so up high to recognize her surroundings from the windows of this same floor.

“Now let’s get going, I’m gonna have to get your measurements and have some stuff delivered unless you wanna come and have fun with me. I’d love to dress you up like a doll, you have a nice figure for a cop.”

He asked her before if she wanted to go and shop with him, but her priorities didn’t reside in his fat wallet. She figures that if she plays nice, she could barter her hour of open air in an expensive shopping district with something she actually needs.

They’ve wound up in an open space with a big lather couch and seating of all kinds littered around, facing the full-length windows overseeing the city. She sits down and gestures at him to do the same.

“I just really need your help,” Chizu looks up at him, she knows tears are not gonna get her anywhere in this situation. So, because this is Kokonoi Hajime we’re talking about, she decides that a little bribery will do.

“No, you don’t,” he makes to stand up but she grabs his wrist to sit him back down.

“Kokonoi, please. I don’t need all that, I need to go to my apartment and grab some stuff if I’m gonna be stuck there.”

“That’s a big ass no-“ he tries to remove her hand from his wrist, so she lets go.

“Please, I’m not opposed to begging, but don’t make me get on my knees. My side is still hurting.”

Kokonoi is close to telling her he doesn’t really give a fuck, but he’s sure she can already read it from his expression, “I can buy you whatever you need.”

“I need my glasses, I can barely make out your face,” That’s a lie, it’s reading glasses, “It’s gonna take so long to get another prescription. Oh my god, I- I don’t even remember how many diopters I’m missing… Please, this could be a mess. My doctor said every day without them my sight will worsen, I’m sure Mikey wouldn’t want me to get blind.”

Koko sighs, shaking his head no. He wears glasses himself, but even if he didn’t, does she really think he’s that dumb? Or is she just that desperate? “Mikey could’ve been lenient about letting you out with me, but there’s no way he’s gonna want you anywhere near your district.”

“What is it? He doesn’t trust you to keep me on a leash?”

“Yeah, exactly. I know who you are, Baji Chizu, don’t think I don’t remember you,” His tone has lost all the chirpiness and friendliness that it held before, “I’ve been the one keeping an eye on you for the past ten years.”

Shit, he shouldn’t have mentioned that. He sees her eyes light up in recognition, as he drops his shoulders in defeat. Her stupidity is contagious.

What did he say? It’s now time for Chizu to mentally start putting pieces together. Is that what Mikey meant when he said he had been tailing me? “Why would he entrust you with such a lowly assignment?”

“Just like today, I’m the one who’s less likely to shoot you dead. That mouth you have on you? You’re lucky I’m a patient man. And,” Hajime stops himself, almost like pondering over whether or not he should share the rest with her.

He makes up his mind in that moment. If she’d happen to overshare with anyone else, he’ll make sure to be the one shooting her dead. He might not like getting his hands dirty, but he’s not completely opposed to violence, “Mikey so happened to catch me in the neighborhood. So as long as I did his biddings, he’s been cool with me bouncing over that part of town.”

“You mean-“ Fuck! She can’t know, right? I mean, it was at their shop I first got sight of her, but that doesn’t mean she must know about it!

“You’ve been keeping tabs on Inui?” Shit, she knows alright.

“Yeah, what about it,” Kokonoi looks embarrassed. Chizu has to play her cards right, she might just get a crack at him if she does.

“I think it’s kind of you, wanting to make sure that he’s doing okay.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion-“ He’s like those tiny chihuahuas, all bark and no bite.

“I guess I’m just wondering why you never approached him. Is it because of me hanging out at their place? Inui would never rat you out,” She imagines that finding a detective weekly visiting the love of your life when you’re a criminal must be a deterrent enough to stay away.

He scoffs, “You don’t know a thing about Inupi and me.” But she recalls the late-night talking, Inupi’s blue eyes wet with tears. “As a matter of fact, I think I know enough,” She promises she’s doing this for Seishu as much as for herself, “Do you wanna know what he told me?”

“There’s no need, I don’t care that much,” He’s lying, she can tell. He looks like the kind to run away when things get serious, that must be why he’s here in the first place. So where else does he have to go?

“Let’s do one thing, you’ll do this one small favor for me, and I’ll tell you some stuff that I'm sure you need to hear.”

He fidgets, “I can’t bring you there, infiltration is not my specialty, and you can’t be seen around. At this point, they must’ve already opened a missing person case for you.”

“I’m sure you will find someone, mh?” Chizu clasps his shoulder in her hand, squeezing as if to reassure him. I’m being selfish.

“Nothing you will ever tell me about him, I don’t know already.”

“Are you sure, Koko? Can I call you Koko, I feel like we’re going somewhere with this,” she winks, trying to ease the tension. She’s glad she found the right piece of information to bribe him. No amount of money she possesses could’ve swayed him in her direction.

“What if I told you where to find him alone? It makes sense why you wouldn’t approach him in our district, or at the shop, but I know where he picks up his spares from.”

“I don’t need that kind of information, I shouldn’t-” To be honest, Chizu didn’t think it would’ve been so easy, to get inside his head. Apparently, Kokonoi Hajime is weaker than she thought. He’s getting anxious, palms rubbing against his knees as if he hadn’t spoken about him in such a long time, or enough to give his body such a shock. Lucky, lucky!

“I’m not gonna bother him anymore. He has his life, the shop, Ryuguji.” Wait, what? She nearly lets out a laugh.

“Is that what you think? Nothing is going on between the two.”

“Are you willing to put your friend in danger like that? Do you know who I am? What is Bonten? I understand you don’t have a care in the world for your own well-being but-“

“Inupi is like a brother to me,” Koko flinches at the word, she knows why and that’s exactly the reason she chose the term, “He would want to know I’m alive, you could do that for him. And if I know anything about him, it’s that he’s been living his life waiting for you.”

“For me? We parted ways because it was for the better,” He shakes his head as if to chase away an old memory, “We should’ve better ourselves after that. I can’t show my face to him. Not like this.”

Chizu understands his point. She had always thought herself to be too twisted for Chifuyu. And sometimes you just don’t wanna deal with the pain of hurting the people you love because of your darkness. Mikey must feel the same.

“I shouldn’t be the one telling you that, Hajime. But I myself know what it feels like to live without someone you love, even if they did you wrong. Maybe you could start by apologizing.”

Koko finally looks up at her. The wind picked up and is now knocking against the windows, a storm is in sight, but the one behind his eyes has calmed down.

He doesn’t say thank you, “I’ll find someone to drive you. You own me one.”

“You go and meet Seishu. Once you’re back, I promise you’ll be the one owning me. Big time.”

—

The day is darkening under her gaze, it might have already started raining in some parts of the city.

Her side hurts, and Chizu tries not to give it away, scared it might drive Kokonoi to postpone her little outing. All he does, though, is hand her a pill after making sure to grab a glass of water. “It’ll help numb the pain.”

“I hope it’s not drugs.” She flinches, grabbing the blue tablet from his cold hand.

“You’re a detective and you can’t recognize simple paracetamol? I always keep some on me. Not that you should mind, considering what we gave you while you were knocked out.” He smirks as she whispers a “Fucker.”

They seem to have gotten incredibly close after just a couple of hours together.

She must rein herself in. Don’t let your guard down, don’t think of them as anything but what they are: criminals. Prostitution, drugs, money laundering. Blood stains all of their hands, no matter how pretty and manicured.

Steps approaching behind them make her turn around. Chizu doesn’t know who she will find. But as long as it’s not Mikey or Sanzu, she guesses it must be fine.

The man that enters the room wears elegant shoes, incredibly long legs stretch under the lilac suit he’s wearing. It’s a three-piece, but the jacket is open, leaving on sight the tight vest and crisp white shirt hugging his nice build. He has a tie on, but it’s slightly undone, like the top two buttons of his shirt, just enough to let her glimpse the black ink branding his neck. Like all of them, he parades it almost proudly.

“I heard a lady in distress might be needing a ride?” His hands are confined in the pockets of his pants. He looks smug and put together, not even a strand of hair falling from his combed-back hairstyle, “Good evening, detective.”

“You called Ran, Haitani?” If looks could kill Kokonoi would be laying dead on the ground by now. The sweet act she’s been putting on all afternoon is suddenly gone.

“Who else should I call? Once again, would you like me to get Sanzu for you?”

“Stop mentioning that prick’s name!” She huffs, standing up while arguing with the man. She doesn’t want to give the impression of being scared of Sanzu, so she has to play it out like his name alone annoys the fuck out of her (to cover up the shivers), which it does, but not to the extent of Haitani Ran.

The motherfucker who has been posing for the department’s pictures for months. But worse, the fucker who used to tease her whenever he got the chance when they were teens.

They never got well together. Even went as far as to physically fight, a couple of times. She used to despise his braids – and his pretty face – and made sure to tell him if he ever crossed her path.

“She has a mouth on her, uh? I see things haven’t changed.” He moves closer, as if ready to separate her and Kokonoi in case they were to fight right in front of him. His downturned eyes staring right at her.

“Yeah, so keep that gun strapped in, Haitani. Got it? Mikey will kill you. And keep your dick in your pants, too, if possible,” Kokonoi reprimands him, making sure he understands the situation.

“Don’t you worry, Koko-kun. Chizu right here has taken me down a couple of times already,” he chuckles at that, as if remembering good times only he has the recollection of, “I don’t doubt she could do it again if I were to touch her.”

He turns back to her, “And I would never, unless you asked me to.” His eye closes in a wink, before gesturing at her to follow him.

At that, Chizu finally looks up at his retroceding back, with fire in her eyes, biting her tongue between her teeth so hard she draws blood. She hopes the painkillers Kokonoi gave her will help with that as well.

 

The elevator ride down to the garage is awkward. Chizu thought she would be relieved by the fact that Ran was not talking, but she realizes not knowing what is happening inside that pretty head of his is far worse than hearing him blubber, “Cat got your tongue?”

“I figured you’d prefer me silent,” He shrugs, “I woke up one hour ago. Let me get used to socializing.”

“An hour ago? It’s five pm, Haitani.” He peers down at her from over his shoulder, lilac-dyed eyebrows creased.

“Mhmh what about it? I work at night. ‘nd I need my beauty sleep. You don’t get this handsome just because, y’know.”

They reach the parking space, it’s right below the building, and it seems like its perimeter is completely gated, which makes sense considering the kind of cars that are parked inside.

Ran extracts a set of keys from the deep of his pocket. The car they stop in front of is a sight to see, not that the others by its side are any lesser, but this one is a shining purple color. It’s eye-catching. And custom-made, apparently. She knows because it’s a Bugatti Centodieci. There are not many of those around, certainly not in this color.

Chizu has never been a huge fan of cars, but she likes driving, when there’s no traffic, which is not often in the city. And she likes speed. She wouldn’t even have recognized the car if it weren’t for the name branded on its sporty back. It is truly a beauty, she thinks. Sleek, elegant and unique. It suits Ran just fine. Not that she would ever tell him that.

“A bit pretentious, don't you think? How much was that even?“

“Little over 1 billion yen. Without customization,” He shrugs, as if that wasn’t a shameful amount of money, and unlocks the vehicle.

Chizu scratches her head, “Did Kokonoi not kill you for that?”

“It’s my money, sweetheart, I get to waste it however I please,” He bends down to open the door on the passenger side. It’s blood money. Fake ass gentleman. “ Now if you may, we don’t have all the time in the world.“

“How do you even get inside this car, the roof is so low…” she mumbles, squeezing her eyes as her stab wound pulsates with pain.

“If you’re that interested in how bendy I am, there are other ways I could show you.”

Fuck Haitani Ran.

Not literally, of course.

–🎴–

Next Chapter.

[tobifuyu]

Die For You • Chapter 01

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

You’re losing me: And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her.

cw: nsfw, mdni, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, fluff, angst, references to depression, drugs, panic attacks, blood and violence, prostitution, basically anything that has to do with bonten, protective haitani ran, sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning.

Masterlist. | Previous Chapter.

Pah's wedding had finally come to an end. Straight out of a fucking movie, Chizu had whispered to Chifuyu when Hina had caught the bouquet.

They are now walking back home, just the two of them, Kazutora had chosen to stay behind and have a drink with Inupi. The odd pair had become unusually close through the years despite how she thought their past would clash. After all, Kazutora was the one who had killed Inupi's mentor.

Chizu guesses people could say the same about his relationship with the pet shop's owner and herself. They had picked up Kazutora when he got out of juvie and offered him a place to stay, a job, and comfort as he navigated back into the world after 10 years of being locked away. But most of all, forgiveness.

It took Chifuyu a couple of years to come to terms with it, not the fact that Baji was gone itself, but how it wasn't Kazutora's fault entirely. For Chizu, that had never even gone into question.

She grow up alongside her brother and Kazutora and knew how much the former loved him. So much he was willing to die for him. So who was she to question it?

She had always thought of how unfair it was, that Keisuke chose to die for Kazutora and Mikey, instead of living for her and Chifuyu.

"Hold onto each other." He had told them. Maybe that was why when the two had to be dragged away from his cold body, they had grabbed ahold of one another, with blood still staining their clothes and held on for days on end, until no more salty tears were coming out of puffy eyes and the sobs stopped shaking their smaller bodies.

Baji Keisuke had died to protect Kazutora and Mikey, to protect Toman.

So when the first stages of grief stopped clouding the mind of a then-younger Chizu, she decided her life purpose was to make sure her brother had not died in vain.

She would hold onto Chifuyu, forgive Kazutora, and save Mikey for her brother.

Not too long after it, Chifuyu and her had come to their first agreement of many.

"So he's back, huh."

"Fucking finally, that moron."

"Y'know it's only been something like 2-3 seconds for him, right Fuyu?"

"Yeah, but he made us wait 12 freaking years, I get to be mad." But he isn't and she knows, 'cause a smile is stretching his pretty lips so hard that his pearly whites are showing. Chizu likes it when he gets like this, he hasn't been this happy in a while.

She'd hate to ruin the mood but she feels like if she doesn't ask she might just choke on it, the question that is rising up her throat so fast she feels like vomiting.

"Is he happy?"

"Seems like it, yeah."

"Does he know, babe?" She adds the pet name to sweeten the pill.

At a very young age, surrounded by mostly boys, she quickly realized that her womanhood was a double-edged sword, so she learned how to use her voice, her manners, and her body to get what she wanted. It's not like she ever enjoyed flaunting herself, far from it, but even now she doesn't know any better. Most men are simple, and she is not a woman of many talents, but a smart one at that, always trying to make do with what she is given.

"Draken-kun and I stuck to the plan, he doesn't need to know as of now..."

"That's the dumbest thing I've heard this week!" But with Chifuyu, Chizu never learned to hide her rough edges. "You and Draken both, are dumb pieces of shit. Withholding something like that from the man that saved your asses!" She shakes her head disapprovingly, freeing herself from the grip he had on her hand. "Just know that if it comes to it, I won't lie to Takemichi. He deserves to know the truth. I don't care if you both selfishly wanna keep your perfect little future. Mikey is lost, and after all Michi has gone through to save him, he deserves to know."

Hearing her words, it's like a switch flips off inside Chifuyu's head, and all the pent-up anger comes rushing out of his mouth like an avalanche carrying away sweet little old Chifuyu.

"You're joking, right? Me and Draken, selfish? Perfect little future? Emma-chan is dead, and Draken-kun’s plan after having to sit through that fucking wedding is to visit her grave. Baji-san died in my arms twelve fucking years ago and I dream about it every single shitty night you don't come back home because you're out doing god knows what-" He grips her shoulders to steady her body and looks into her wide eyes.

He realizes her lower lip is trembling, and he knows he's gone too far. He also knows she can take it, Chizu's a big girl, but whenever her brother is mentioned it's like her mind goes back to that junkyard. He can sense she's far away now.

"I just- he just came back, give him some time to adjust. Some time to be with Hina-chan, that's what he deserves." At this point, his thumbs are rubbing circles on the skin left bare by the sleeves of her pale lilac dress, a color he'd always found pretty on her, and always made sure to tell her so. "And what if... even if he came to know, doesn't mean he'll want to go back again. I hope he doesn't, Chizu. I- call me selfish, I don't care. I don't wanna lose you too."

She's rotating the ring on her finger as he speaks, feeling the weight of it and the friction against her skin. She doesn't know if it feels comforting or foreign, but when she raises to meet his stare, Chifuyu's eyes are so green that all she wants to do is kiss him, now.

She understands. Chifuyu, just like Takemichi, has spent years of his life sacrificing himself to make others happy, her included. For Chizu to be calling him selfish just because he wants to hold onto her a little longer is very ironic.

Isn't she doing the same thing by not telling him?

 

So when they reach their home in silence, she's the one who kisses him once the door closes behind his back. The pillowy feeling of his lips against hers is so welcomed after such a long day of pretending, just like the heat he brings to her body when he grabs her waist and presses against her. The slip dress is thin, she can feel the rough fabric of his suit and she drops her head back while he descends his kisses down the column of her neck, holding the back of it with one of his hands tangled in the root of her hair.

She wants him to pull, she likes when he's rough. They've only ever been with one another, and the other's body is no secret to either one of them. When she begs “Fuyu, please” with that whiny voice of hers, she doesn't have to ask twice. He would give her anything and everything.

So he makes his hands run down the side of her body, ‘cause he likes to touch her just as much as he likes to taste her, and grasps a handful of her tighs, lifting her with her arms around his neck while he walks the way to their room, mouths never parting from each other if not for the occasional moan that leaves her pretty, now kissed raw, lips.

—

The morning after, Chizu decides to bring Chifuyu lunch at work (which she used to do all the time when he first opened up the shop, mostly to have an excuse to see him throughout their busy and different work schedules). Her off day is not an eventful one so far. She still has to pick up her crappy car from Draken and Inupi’s, but she has no rush to do so.

As she walks to the building her mind is somewhere else. She can still hear Naoto’s words ringing inside her ears from previously this week. She had been feeling guilty for a long time, but ever since his reprimand she kept picking herself apart for not being truthful with Chifuyu about her job, and her clouded mind ends up being her demise. This time, Chizu cannot stop herself from noticing them, as she has done in the past.

She has a hand on the handle while the other is holding onto the bento box that she has happily prepared, still giddy from the night before, and the cloth tied with a ribbon over it is as red as the apple of his cheeks when the noise of the bell startles him, making him take a rushed step away from the brunette who’s back is to her.

He doesn’t have to turn around, she’d recognize him anywhere, and she mentally chastises herself for realizing too late how their similarity is most likely what makes it so enjoyable for her to drive around on his bike.

Kazutora looks just like Keisuke with his back turned, damned be his dyed hair. That’s the same view he must’ve had of my brother right before stabbing him, she thinks.

Chizu also realizes it must be the reason why Chifuyu never opens his eyes when he kisses them both, any long dark hair he can grab onto will do, right?

Standing still and lost in thoughts, she flinches the moment the box of food reaches the ground filling the silent space between them with a resounding thump. Her grip had wavered, and now with wide eyes and anger pumping through her veins as if it were laced with her own blood, she fully takes a step inside and lets the door of the shop close behind her figure.

She doesn’t know exactly why she’s mad. Didn’t she know about it already? She had always known about Chifuyu’s little crush on her older brother, ever since the day the latter brought him home to eat that cheap yakisoba of his. Keisuke had approached her after the blond had left to enthusiastically tell her how he had “Found a nice guy for you to get over stupid Mikey”. But in actuality, he hadn’t, and she hadn’t.

Is she mad because the last 12 years were nothing but a lie she had gladly believed? The bruises of last night are still fresh on her skin and now stinging like an open wound, reminding her of how she had given herself to him willingly and had selfishly believed his “I love you”. Or is it because she suspects Kazutora is just as much of a victim in all of this?

Kazutora, whom all his life had never been able to tell apart who cared about him from who didn’t.

But Chifuyu isn’t cruel like that. Then is she mad because he finally found what she had failed to give him for over a decade in someone else?

Maybe… just maybe, she’s mad because she feels like she has to be. She has to keep pretending, holding onto her façade so that everything can go as smoothly as planned. The timing is excellent, this is her way out.

This is the only way she can do this without ending up as the bad guy. She has unfortunately always cared about appearances. She could come out of it clean, without ever having to tell him about that and then inevitably alarming every single one of their friends.

The problem is, she has also always been incredibly proud, and nothing but a sore loser. And when you mix these two, you get a cold-ass bitch who doesn’t know when to hold her tongue, ready to pierce through people’s hearts with it.

She craves to hit where it hurts the most and takes pleasure in knowing that she can knock people down a couple of pegs by simply not giving a fuck. When she gets like this, no remark can even phase her.

Until she comes down from the high and ends up crying about it alone in her room. She doesn’t enjoy being mean, it just happens. And there’s no stopping it now, not when Chifuyu pretends like nothing has happened. Yeah, she might’ve been willing to close a blind eye in the past, but she was done being played with like she was stupid.

A slow clapping is what accompanied her bittersweet laugh, “Oh, I see how it is.”

Both of them stay uncharacteristically quiet, but they know nothing could be said to save the situation anymore. Kazutora finally turns to face her, and the sight of his apologetic face sends her over the edge. He pities her, she doesn’t like it.

“I hope you know Kazutora, that he’s just using you because you’re the next best thing to my brother. You definitely have something that I don’t.”

His eyes are big like saucers, but he doesn’t dare to say anything back. Chifuyu, on the other hand, looks offended, as if he wasn't shoving his tongue down their friend’s throat just now.

“Chizu, I understand you're mad but don't take it too far.”

“I don’t even know what to say to you,” she scoffs, and he moves closer to her, extending his arms to grab at her frame and rub over her skin like he usually does when she gets distraught, “Don’t touch me.”

Chifuyu drops his hold, and Chizu moves as if to leave but he calls out to her, “Please, we need to talk about this, just hear me out.”

She can see Kazutora in her peripheral, rubbing his neck out of embarrassment.

“You need to move on.”

“Rich coming from you out of all people.”

He’s right , I’m a hypocrite. I’m doing all of this so that I can finally run off and look for him , and he doesn’t even know.

“Well, at least Mikey is not dead.”

 

The moment those words leave her lips she knows there is no going back. Chifuyu looks at her as if she’s the one who had stabbed Baji in the first place. The sadness in his emerald eyes reflects the feeling of betrayal that she, herself, is feeling on the inside

Serves him well.

“Don’t come looking for me.” she warns both of them as she leaves the shop, heart-wrenching as those words resound in her head.

She will never forget the faces they made as she walked away. Chizu wishes that in another life – another timeline – all four of them could have been happy together.

—

Chizu doesn’t cry as she walks to the bike shop, nor when Draken takes her upstairs to his shared apartment and sits her down on the couch.

“What happened?” He knows her, so he can tell something is wrong.

“I found Chifuyu kissing someone else.”

She doesn’t have to say whom, Draken already knows, but he is taken aback all the same. He had never thought Chifuyu would do such a thing to her.

“I’m gonna kill him,” He whispers as he gets up from his crouched position in front of the couch, but she grasps his forearm before he can make his exit.

“No, I don’t care. I just needed to leave, can I crash here for a couple of days? Just until we move forward with the plan and I can get my shit together.”

“Knock yourself out,” he holds the hand that was grabbing at him and rubs over her knuckles with his thumb, “you know where everything is. You can wear some of my clothes.”

“Thank you, Ken, I appreciate it.”

 

When Drakes comes back to the apartment later that day, Chizu is trying to whip up something for dinner. She has never been much of a cook, so instant Ramen will do. She wanted to repay Ken’s kindness with a hot meal, so she plates it to make it look more presentable.

Inupi is trailing behind him, their faces look tired and their slumped shoulders are covered by overalls stained with dark greases.

When Inupi sees her he asks how she’s doing. He doesn’t know and she appreciates Draken for not airing out her dirty laundry, but she tells him all the same.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Same reaction.

God, these two spend too much time together.

Chizu calms him down, puts on her display of indifference, and doesn’t stop to think over what she’s feeling as she asks them to get cleaned to eat together.

Over dinner, they talk about what will happen this week. They go over their plan of staking out The Chano Club one more time. Chizu is excited until she isn’t, exhaustion catching up to her and making her fall asleep with her hands crossed over the table pillowing her heavy head.

 

The day after she wakes up in a bed. Draken must’ve carried her there, and she finds him asleep on the couch when she leaves the room for breakfast. Today the shop doesn’t open until the afternoon, so she lets him rest.

She thinks it’s sad how uncomfortable he looks with his big body resting on such a tiny piece of furniture, and swears to take the couch tonight.

The boredom makes itself known as she lazes around the apartment while the two are working till the evening, avoiding visiting them at the shop downstairs in fear of Chifuyu or Kazutora showing up looking for her.

Inupi comes up to check on Chizu and finds her cleaning the apartment. “You don’t have to,” he tells her, but she’s trying to do everything in order not to think.

He realizes and suggests she orders takeout for the night, he’s gonna pick up some beers so the three of them can have a small party to clear their heads.

Chizu can hold her alcohol, but she figures out pretty soon that Draken and Inupi out-drink her, most likely because she is not one to do so often.

Her problem, whenever she gets drunk, is that her filter completely shuts off and lets her air her thoughts without a single care in the world.

Mid-dinner she starts to feel the beers get to her and is suddenly reminded of the ring she has yet to take off. It’s like its metal is burning around her finger, shiny emerald stone – the color of his eyes – staring back at her, judging Chizu for her lack of sadness.

Her face is now wet with tears, and sobs shake her body like an unexpected earthquake.

The rest of the evening is spent on the couch, Inupi and Draken trying to sober up and comfort a tipsy Chizu.

“I don’t even know who’s truly at fault,” she whispers with her head resting on Seishu’s shoulder, he’s rubbing her side as she finally talks about what’s been bothering her for the past two days, “He never looked at me like that, right?”

Ken and Inupi look at each other, confused as to whether she wants them to reply or just sit and listen.

“‘s not his fault anyway… I have a picture of Mikey on my nightstand,” Chizu laughs at that, playfully shoving Draken before adding “He thought we were sleeping together some time ago. Crazy, right??”

Inupi decides that’s his clue to head to bed, and leaves the poor men to deal with a now sleepy Chizu, who falls asleep on the other’s shoulder soon after she was pushed against it by the former.

 

Chizu comes to a couple of hours later, Draken is still sitting near, on the couch, phone in hand as he scrolls through it. When he notices the girl is awake, he grabs the glass of water sitting on the small table in front of them before she can complain about getting a headache.

“You were saying all kinds of stuff, you know?”

“I’m sorry Ken,” she says as she swallows the pill he passes to her, “I think it didn’t hit me until now.”

“It’s normal, your life is changing. It’s more about losing that comfort. But I’m here for you,” he brings up a hand to stroke one of her scrunched brows, “I want you to know that.”

She raises her gaze to stare up at his big frame, dark eyes fixed on her reddening face. Draken truly is a sight to see, his black hair is now out of his usual ponytail and framing his pale skin, making the rosy of his lips stand out even more. She reaches out to brush a strand away from his face, “Thank you, Ken. I’m sorry for giving you this much trouble.”

“Don’t even say that, I love it when you’re here,” her breath catches in her throat, but she doesn’t stop stroking his cheek with the pad of her thumb, “Inupi does too, of course.”

He coughs to cover up his embarrassment, but as she leans her head over his hand, his heart rate picks up. She’s so pretty, he thinks.

He’s too scared to move and curses himself for his selfish thoughts. She was crying about her broken engagement not even two hours ago, he reasons, and she’s still wearing the ring. He realizes he’s never seen her wear it before, if not when she was out with Chifuyu himself.

“What are you thinking about?” Chizu asks because she doesn’t like being kept in the dark, but also because she recognizes that glint in his eyes.

“It’s nothing-“

“Ken, it’s okay.”

“I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s so used to having someone by her side and she’s withdrawing, or because his dark eyes remind her of someone else.

Or it might be simply because Draken is Draken: he’s loyal, caring, and – honestly – so fucking hot. Her mind is fucked up, she’s aware of it.

No matter the reason why, she’s the one who gets closer to him, chest pushing against his side as her hand cups his strong jawline, redirecting his face towards hers, a couple of inches below.

He stares at her while she presses her soft lips against his and doesn’t dare close his eyes while she simply pecks at them.

“Are you sure you wanna kiss me? You seem quite unresponsive,” she giggles against his mouth, making him let out a groan as he finally gives in.

He wraps Chizu in strong arms, making her sit on his thighs to get her as close as possible, mouth parting to slot their lips together, kissing her back with fierceness.

Chizu shivers in his grip when he tangles one hand in her hair, pulling as he exposes her neck. Needy wet kisses are pressed against the skin as she pants for air, “Fuck, Ken.”

“Don’t say a word,” he hushes her, covering her mouth with his once again. This time he runs the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip, asking for entrance, she gladly accepts and moans at his taste, not even bothering to fight for dominance as he’s overpowering her in all aspects.

She feels herself getting wet and knows they’re pushing their boundaries. She has never hooked up with anyone, but Draken feels so good under her.

Unconsciously, she starts moving her hips against his, chasing the friction that so deliciously comes from rubbing against the cock hardening underneath his sweatpants.

He grunts at that, grabbing her hips with two big hands and angling her so that his tip can slide against her covered clit.

“Fuck, I can feel how wet you are-“

“Ken, please.”

“Tell me to stop, tell me to stop now or I’ll fuck you right here on this couch.”

That line is tempting, the feeling of his cock, and how big it is, even more so. But when she meets his eyes once again, she’s reminded of who’s the man underneath her.

Her best friend, for fuck’s sake, they’ve known each other for years.

Chizu still remembers when Emma died. They shouldn’t be doing this.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as she pulls away from him. Draken is not mad, just slightly flustered. He makes sure to reassure her by leaving a caste kiss on her forehead.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we?” He says after they’ve spent some minutes trying to catch their breath and calm themselves. He’s silently rubbing her hips with both of his thumbs as they look everywhere but at one another.

“Do you mind if I sleep on the bed with you, tonight? I won’t touch you, I swear.”

“I was thinking about taking the couch, you looked uncomfortable this morning.”

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna, but I won’t let you sleep out here.” He says while standing up, holding Chizu to him as they head to his bedroom.

“I guess we can cuddle then.” She accepts while giggling. Draken is a gentleman, and he’s too good to her. He doesn’t deserve to be used. She wants to make sure there’ll never be any awkwardness or hard feelings between them.

—

When Chizu wakes up her head is pounding, a headache due to the big crying session she couldn't escape from the night before. Light is peering from the white curtains shading the small window and as she reaches around the bed, she realizes she was left alone in the room.

She can hear the sounds of cooking and hushed arguing behind the door, so she makes her way to the kitchen without even checking her appearance in the mirror, knowing the two of them had seen her in worse conditions already.

Draken and Inupi are moving around the small area, bodies too big to not be knocking against one another every now and then, but their dexterity comes from living under the same roof for such a long time.

Inupi is not surprised to see her, nor particularly happy, probably having been made aware of the situation. She has stepped out of Draken’s room wearing one of his white shirts.

The thing is that Inupi cares about both of them deeply, and doesn’t want either to suffer over something so stupid, a kiss that could’ve been avoided easily if only they had not given in to the heat of the moment. Even more so, the crazy plan they’ve been devising for tonight.

He moves out of her way then, sending her a glare as he brings his plate of food along to his room, planning on eating alone.

When she meets Draken’s eyes she shies away from his gaze. And that’s exactly what she has been dreading since the night before. Even her sleep got messed up from the idea of fucking up their lifelong friendship.

“Here, eat something. Gotta be in top form for tonight.”

Yeah, tonight. She has been staying at their apartment for a couple of days now, and her and Draken’s plan – mostly hers, but he will only come to find out about that later on – has been refined up to the littlest detail.

“Don’t mind Inupi,” he adds, “he’s just being protective, as always.”

She knows that. Chizu had met Inupi when he joined Toman years ago and was taken aback by his brashness at first. They hadn’t gotten around to talking to each other for a couple of years, as she was intimidated by his aura, and figured he didn’t care about getting to know her. On the other hand, Inupi just didn’t feel like making an effort whenever he got a glimpse of her ever-present angry face, considering she was known in the delinquent world for having the same short temper as her brother and a knack for picking up fights with any men.

When the time had come for Inupi and Draken to open up the bike shop together, they got used to each other's presence and eventually became close friends. Draken had been elated, Chifuyu a little less, considering he felt disrespected by the men for whatever reason (she figured both their obsessing over Takemichi had something to do with it).

Inupi had shared with Chizu, on a drunken night at first, but then again with a clearer head, the story of his scar. He had told her about Kokonoi Hajime, one of the very men she is after.

She knew about Seishu’s sister and what it did to their relationship, and she had watched him cry as he, still, silently grieved both his older sister and his missing friend – or lover, she had reasoned.

Seishu and Chizu had boned over the grief of losing their loved ones: siblings to death, and lovers to Bonten.

So she had come to know him eventually and could read his mood even from his apparent apathetic face.

“He’s right, the kiss was a mistake-“

“He’s just anxious about tonight-“

They speak in unison, and it takes her a second to understand that he’s not concerned about that at all, unlike her. He looks distraught for a second but composes himself before gesturing at her to sit down and have her breakfast. He leaves the room without another word.

Chizu knows he’s mad, and wonders if they both hadn’t fallen for the Sano siblings back then, maybe they could’ve worked out.

 

As night falls, Inupi had to shake off his fears and concerns to help Chizu get ready, as promised.

The dress he had bought for her was a simple black one, on the shorter side, with arms covered and a low neckline. They had tried going for the classy look, knowing they would have to look the part to get inside the expensive club in Roppongi.

“Wish I could borrow your Louboutines, ‘nupi…” she sighs, acting sad as to strategically make him feel bad enough to give in.

“My feet are like twice your size. And you can barely walk in heels as it is.”

That’s not true… she pouts. Inupi thinks sometimes she reminds him of Akane. They’re nothing alike, really, so maybe he’s lying to himself because he can’t help but like the idea of the two of them being somewhat of a sibling figure to one another.

He hopes tonight will go smoothly, he can’t bear the thought of losing another person.

Draken makes his way inside the room and shoots them a smile, “Ready? You look lovely, by the way.”

Chizu genuinely smiles at that, Draken has always been nothing but a gentleman to her, and after feeling like an ugly and crying mess for the past week, she deserves to get a compliment.

He’s dressed in a simple black shirt and dress pants, it reminds her of his early complaints about feeling like a clown when they had first started their search for Bonten from club to club, months ago. He must’ve gotten used to this by now, she thinks. He looks good.

Seishu does something so uncharacteristically sweet that would have nearly made her cry right there and there if she hadn’t spent the past forty minutes or so carefully applying makeup. He hugs her to his side, patting the top of her crown before releasing her.

“Don’t do anything reckless, Chizu.”

—

The inside of the club is dark, they have yet to approach the dance floor but they can already feel their skin starting to dampen with sweat beneath their clothes at the sight of the crowd swaying amongst each other. The air is anything but breathable, smoke swirling up from the elegant red booths circling the perimeter of the lower level of the club.

Above their heads is a balcony-like area that allows the VIP patrons to stare down at the sweaty mass with a lustful gaze from the privacy of their lounges, each of them looking for the innocent victim of the night, ready to max out their cards in exchange of pleasurable favors.

Chizu and Draken have already been to this specific club, in one of their past scouting they even managed to get a glimpse up the stairs at the closed doors of the rooms inhabiting the upper floor. The private spaces have been known to accommodate a particular kind of crowd. The kind of crowd that would engage in prostitution and exchange of illegal substances.

Unfortunately, without a mandate, this kind of underground work is the only thing that could help her confirm that.

Draken walks a few steps behind her frame, taking seriously his role of personal bodyguard, under Inupi’s vehement advice. In reality, he knows she can take care of herself, but having someone to watch your back in a situation as dangerous as this one, makes both of them feel better about it all.

What if we find Mikey tonight? he wonders. They have been trying to bait him out of the shadows for a long time. They are the only appropriate people who can complete the job.

The three of them had always been together.

Mikey, Draken, Chizu. Toman’s strongest.

Ten years have passed since their time together, how would any of them react to seeing each other after such a long time? Would Mikey even care enough to spare them? Chizu’s a detective, snooping around Bonten’s business. Draken thinks it over, and feels scared for the first time in a while, watching her walk in front of him with the confidence of someone who has nothing to lose, and finally realizes his mistake.

 

She has nothing to lose, her ten years long relationship has just ended on an ugly note, the promise of living a peaceful and happy life gone just like her brother; her job is the one thing pushing her towards this madness in the first place.

“Chizu, I think we should-” he tries to talk over the bass shaking the ground, but as they keep merging amongst the partygoers, they reach the center of the oval dance floor.

The DJ booth is in front of them, a raised platform extends behind it, a railing protecting the people in its confinement from falling over as they lean forward.

Chizu stares ahead, right at that area, the LED lights of the screen behind it making it hard to focus on what or who resides in it. She can make out the silhouettes of those peering down at them. Strobe flashes blinding her as she tries to meet their eyes. She squints, nothing still.

“I liked you when we were kids.” Draken has gotten closer, his voice more clear over the tune of a catchy pop song.

“What?” she’s taken aback, but acts like she didn’t hear him properly, and keeps facing the direction of the spot hidden in the shadows.

“I liked you, back when we were in Toman, for a little bit. The kiss yesterday meant something, to me.”

She thinks Draken is rarely this straightforward. He is blunt, but not very honest when it comes to feelings. That’s what made him lose Emma years back. She feels sorry for him but doesn’t turn around.

What Draken doesn’t know is that she never had anything to lose to begin with. She doesn’t think she has felt that sense of happiness and belonging that she used to feel in Toman ever again, since her brother died. After that, she only ever felt buried. Under an ever-growing pile of responsibilities she took on to make sure she could go back to those times.

“Take care of each other,” Keisuke had told her and Chifuyu as he was dying. And they had done that for the longest time until it was unbearable. “Forgive Kazutora,” Check.

“Save Mikey.”

Had her brother known back then that Mikey’s mental illness would deteriorate to such an extent? She doesn’t know, but she was never one to back out from a fight. That’s what most people liked about her. Some more than others.

—

Leaning on the railing and staring down at the crowd are the lazy eyes of Haitani Ran.

He looks pensive, two long fingers balancing a cigarette he’s barely smoking as he thinks of a reason why they’re all standing in one of his best clubs. Bonten executives rarely hit nightclubs together, especially not any of his, for safety reasons and also because, except for him and his brother, most of them are not really the partying type.

He wonders what he must’ve done to piss off Mikey so much he’s being put through this hell. He hates being left without a clue of what is going on.

Haitani Ran is one of the most perceptive people there is out there.

At first glance, people would think of him as the less intelligent brother. His downturned eyes never fixated on anything, and the blank stare giving the impression of someone who’s spaced out. Not a single thought inside that pretty head of his. But, as much as he doesn’t like when people underestimate him, he also truly doesn’t give a shit.

Being underestimated has brought him so far as being one of the top executives of Bonten, his skills unrivaled even amongst them.

The truth is that Ran knows how to read people and how to manipulate them, a little too well. Some would say it must be a mix of luck and pretty privilege, but in reality, he’s just too smart for anyone’s good.

That’s why, whenever he fails to foresee what goes on behind Mikey’s blank stare and firm orders, he gets unreasonably annoyed. Especially if it has something to do with his own business, his and his brother’s very first club, which had cashed them a pretty penny back in their starting days.

 

“What are you looking at,” Rindou, who’s as always standing right beside him, asks with his usual brash tone, “You’ve been staring intensely at the dance floor like it has all the answers you need in this world.”

“Nothing,” he flicks his cig before taking a puff, “Thought I recognized someone in the crowd.”

Is that what they’re all here for? Mikey has never really given a fuck about the police. The thought of being caught not even on his mind as they have always been able to buy their way out of anything, thanks to Kokonoi’s funds and Akashi’s experience and connections in the underworld. But lately, he seems to have been stressing over something, or rather someone.

It was Ran himself who had caught her at first. He could recognize her face even after all these years, especially as she kept reappearing in most of his clubs, wandering around with none other than Ryuguji Ken, whose tattoo was hard to miss or mismatch.

He quickly put two and two together, understanding that the detective was trying to get dirt on them by starting in the easiest place, a place where she could see all of it go down at once.

Drugs, prostitution, money laundering. Their clubs were the starting point of it all. But he had let her do so, making sure to tell his bouncers to always let her in when he was around.

Honestly, he had always been intrigued by Baji Chizu. Ever since their first meeting 17 years ago. He knows she doesn’t back down from a fight, so he’d like to see how far along she can go before Mikey himself decides to kill her. He guesses the time has finally come.

As he tries to look for her in the crowd, Mikey calls them over. Rindou sits beside him on the leather seat, Kakucho on the other side, the one closer to Mikey.

Behind their boss, with his hands clasped behind his back and a straight, military-like, posture, stands Sanzu. Ran thinks Sanzu looks different tonight, vigilant, lucid. The drugs must have yet to hit.

When Mikey starts to talk they all lean closer to hear him over the music. He’s not one to yell, but he doesn’t expect them to miss a single word.

“A detective that has been insistently looking into our affairs is present tonight. I had a fake leak go around about the Haitani selling the place to specifically loom them here.”

Right on the money. Ran is rarely wrong, after all.

Mikey is slouched back in his chair, careless demeanor as usual. Black eyes fixed on his executives as he calls their attention, “Rindou, Ran. I need the two of you to drag the detective’s chaperone out of the club. Hold him down, knock him out for all I care. But he has to leave. Alive.”

Ran knows why he’s asking the two of them, Draken has quite a big frame and is known to be undeniably strong, their underlings would have to put up a fight and cause a scene to drag him out of the place. Rindou can easily block his joints as Ran dirties his hands after what feels like such a long time.

He’s gotten so used to guns he barely has any time to whip out his trusty baton, as of lately. So this will do. Where’s the fun in letting others do his job, after all?

“Sanzu, take care of the detective. You can choose how, but I need her alive.” Once again, he doesn’t seem to be willing to let his annoying friends die, yet.

Mikey never has to repeat himself, the executives stand up as they make their way down to the lower level of the club.

 

“Are you sure sending those three is a good idea?” asks Takeomi, who knows by now how hot-tempered and messy they can be. “We’re talking about your friends, after all. Someone is gonna end up dead.”

“Old acquaintances, and they’re gonna do what Mikey asked them to.” The one replying is Kakucho, whose calmness is ever-present as he sits back with his torso exposed. He doesn’t defend Mikey to Sanzu’s extent, but especially in front of other people, he likes to keep up with appearances.

Kokonoi is smirking while sipping on a martini, the classy drink looks fitting in his elegant hand. Kokonoi gets entertained with very little, relaxing comes easy to him when money is not on the table. However, if it were, you would see him fidget and panic by now.

“I’m gonna get our drivers know to go out back, I figured we’re gonna make a quick exit,” announces Mochi.

Mikey mumbles something in accordance while trying to peer down at the crowd for his spot, cross-legged.

He can’t see much, he’s gonna have to wait.

—

Chizu wants to rip the strobe lights from the hinges with her bare hands. It’s so annoying, how she’s getting momentarily blinded every time she stares up.

She turns around to tell Draken that she wants to get closer. She wants to try and get upstairs this time. But Draken is not there anymore.

“Ken?” Chizu calls his name loudly, but she knows it’s unlikely for him to hear her, mentally cursing herself because she should’ve stayed closer.

Chizu guesses she must act on the second part of the plan now, the one Draken was not even aware of. The one she needs to carry on by herself. She just wishes Inupi and Draken will forgive her for it.

But as she takes some steps towards the stairs, she catches Ken’s big frame getting carried away by two others.

It’s a blur of purples, so she runs to follow them, getting closer to the exit that by now she knows opens up in a back alley.

One moment she is pushing against people to make way, the next her body is being held back by two long arms.

“Eh eh,” she hears the man snicker, his sinister and familiar voice making dread fill her throat like bitter bile.

Something is so terribly wrong in his embrace, but because of the adrenaline cursing through her veins, she can’t feel the sting of the blade piercing the skin of her belly until she looks down and sees his blood-stained hand, Bonten tattoo branded on the inside of his forearm.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, Chizu-chan,” strands of pink colored hair slip past her shoulder as he leans forward, but she can barely see anymore, her eyes foggy, the crimson of the blood fresh in her mind like the day her brother had died.

She doesn’t feel herself falling, Sanzu holds her tight as she passes out. He thinks she’s weaker than she used to be, he could slice her neck open right there and get this over with, but he can feel the wrath of his King looming over him.

What a stupid girl you are, Sanzu thinks as he lifts her body into his arms.

—🎴—

Next Chapter.

[tobifuyu]

Die For You • Prologue

HAITANI RAN x f!reader

I think I’m lost again: This world is big, it'll kill me of I don't figure it out.

cw: nsfw, mdni, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, fluff, angst, references to depression, drugs, panic attacks, blood and violence, prostitution, basically anything that has to do with bonten, protective haitani ran, sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning.

Masterlist.

Chizu thinks it's crazy how the absence of a single person could make a room packed with people feel so empty.

Yet, this longing couldn't make everyone else's presence any less overbearing. It's almost as if all the people in the room were staring at her, with scrutinizing eyes, waiting for her to slip up, for her smile to fade.

Inside of her, she knows that this day, much like any other, the attention of the crowd is focused elsewhere. After all, the groom and bride are just now making their big entrance in the decorated room, huge smiles and congratulations sent their way after just getting married.

Chizu wishes she could be truly happy for them, but as her tired eyes take a look at the people sitting around the table, she can't help but judge how effortlessly they manage to pretend. Because if they're not pretending, it means they have forgotten. And how could you forget what has happened, what they had collectively lost? But who would be this happy, knowing what they had to give up to stand where they are today? Who had stayed behind.

Chizu eventually figures no one will notice. The smile she put on is starting to hurt her strained cheeks, so she lets it go. She makes the effort, from time to time, to chuckle at whatever joke is being said, or memory being recounted. Some of her friends know her far too well and she doesn't wanna be the one to rain on their parade, but if she were to just say out loud, how ludicrous this whole pretend get-together is, most of them would probably agree. Oh, the irony.

Three days before that, she was headed to work when her car eventually gave up. Whether it was on her and her shitty driving, or just life in general, she did not know. She hoped that Draken could take care of that. One thing she was not in the mood for was paying for a new piece of metal when she could barely afford to keep this one up and running. That, and going back to be driven around by her boyfriend. Boyfriend? More like fiance, that is, the ring that would usually sit around her finger was a testament to that.

She was not wearing it that day, of course. She had grown the habit of taking it off to go to work, the last couple of weeks. "To keep it from getting stolen." She had replied to Chifuyu when he had asked. After all, it was not unlikely. With her job as a detective, she had to do a lot of digging around in the wrong places, and keeping such a shiny thing on her would do her no good, so Chifuyu believed her.

Chifuyu. Sweet, loyal Chifuyu. He had been all his life, ever since they were kids. Their engagement was a testament to that. That he would do her no harm, no wrong. Ignoring all their lives the undeniable pull that both of them felt towards other people, in favor of honoring a promise made to a dead and dumb teenager.

But a man can only pretend so much, and after twelve years together, it was no wonder she had almost walked in on him and Kazutora more than enough times to stop believing it was her poor sight deceiving her.

Chizu had no doubt he loved her though, in the past and now still. She could tell just by looking in those green eyes she adored so much, she could tell because of how kind he was, how he had cradled her all those years, practically kissing the ground she walked on, spurred her to keep on fighting for what she believed in. How he had always let her be, closed a blind eye after they had just moved in together and she had placed that photo of her and Mikey on the nightstand right by their bed. How he would not question her late nights at Draken's. How he had tried so hard, for years, to kiss the breath out of Chizu to keep her from asking whether he was only staying because she was Keisuke's sister.

Yet, no matter how much she appreciated all he had done for her after his death, she couldn't bring herself to be truly happy with him. And she knew, from the moment she took on this last case a couple of months prior, that she would lose him. The secrecy, distance, and obsession on her part are what finally made him crack, is what made him give up on her like this fucking damned car.

She didn't blame him, nor Kazutora. She just let them be, just like they had done for her all this time.

It was the latter's number she called that day, knowing his work schedule by heart finally came in handy. She asked for a ride.

"D'ya need me to take the car to Draken's too?" He had inquired while waiting for the light to stop. She enjoyed riding with him. His bike was fast and steady, and even though he never speed too much when she was with him, she was still fond of the thrill, the sight of cars and buildings getting left behind and becoming a blurry mess in her peripheral, and the feeling of the crisp Tokyo air scratching against the apple of her reddening cheeks, unforgiving. She was not one to wear a helmet, a dumb thing really, and neither was Kazutora. But she did not mind the knotting in her hair at the end of the day, as long as she got to ride beside another warm body to revive the too-fond memories of her teenage years. Chifuyu had stopped riding Keisuke's bike a while ago.

"No need, Tora. He said he would pick it up with Inupi this afternoon."

"Want me to come to get ya after work then?"

"Nah, I'll probably ask Naoto to drive me."

"You make that kid do too many of your biddings, you're a shitty work senior." She had pinched his side then, having him swerve on the road and reprimand her for breaking the glorified rule of not distracting the driver.

The station she works at is an old one, not too crowded with rookies, her and Naoto being two of the few people who don't have retirement on their minds yet. That's why their head of department doesn't refrain from assigning all kinds of reckless cases to the duo, who've been gladly asking for them ever since they first joined.

For a while they had worked together; partners, the younger Tachibana had called them with a smile on his face that very first time, happy to not be left alone in his careless fight against the yakuza. The more seasoned detectives knew to leave such matters alone, to be solved out on the streets and amongst their ranks, not without reason. Most have learned their lesson, thanks to years of experience and various threats to their lives and families. Some other cops' silence was bought, righteousness quivering under the hearty checks sent their way.

That's what makes their squad captain, Mr. Nakamura, the perfect detective. Pretty much everyone he has known is long gone, not a story he likes telling often, but one their smaller division has heard enough of to give him their utter respect, alongside a considerable amount of trust.

This is why no one had dared to question him about why he would entrust the youngest woman detective in their district with a case that had been turned down by many and labeled as a cold case by their higher-ups.

The plan and strategy that Mr. Nakamura had said to have perfectioned to finally crack this had been classified if not for two of his colleagues. When Naoto first heard of it, he knew that his partner would jump on the case without a second thought for her safety or that of those around her, as determined as she was, but with his sister finally at home and safe, content in her little bubble of pure love shared with Takemichi, there was no other option for him if not to step back and leave her to it, alone for the very first time.

She had not felt betrayed, or scared. It was she who was supposed to bring this secretive plan to life from the get-go, crafted around her persona and all the work she had been putting in ever since Toman was disbanded twelve years prior and Sano Manjirou had chosen the shortest way down to hell. Naoto knew, and so did Mr. Nakamura, it was her troubled past and driving obsession that had landed her ass on that shiny desk in the first place.

Taking down Bonten was not a small feat, making sure its executives were caught guilty was an even bigger one.

Many times their doors had welcomed its underlings in and out, some had slipped and stayed, knowing they'd be dead the moment they would step out either way, and others' names had been cleaned with a snap of god knows whose fingers. Their goal was to eventually eradicate the whole organization, starting by bringing in executive after executive. But up until then, there was yet a single scratch upon the reputation of those whom they, at least, knew the name of.

"Did you tell him yet, Chizu-san?"

"Naoto, we've been working together for the longest time now. There are two things you should know about me already: I cannot come to work every day for the rest of my life and ask you to drop the honorific first thing in the morning. I'd like my coffee first, if you may. Y'know I don't enjoy repeating myself..." Chizu had been babbling on while sorting out through what used to be a neat pile of files placed on her desk. Pictures of old acquaintances being studied by her skillful eyes. "So these are the new pics that were sent in? Those bastards are getting more and more reckless as time passes, either they stopped giving a shit or they know we’ve got zero crap on them, there's no way we can bring them in just for being spotted together-" She had stopped on one that caught her attention. "Look at this! Can- can you believe this shit, Naoto? Fucking Haitani Ran smirking at the camera without a care in the world! And-"

"Chizu-san. I know what you're trying to do. I told you I don't wanna be involved. You’re trying to manipulate me once again. Have you told Matsuno yet?"

"Drop the honorific and then maybe I'll talk to you about my love life." She had said cheekily, enjoying the eye roll coming from the younger man.

"Alright. But Chizu, you have to tell him. This is not just about you anymore, it never was. He's your fiance and time is running out. When the time comes are you just gonna up and leave-" Naoto self-righteous spiel had been interrupted by the booming voice of Nakamura-san. Thank God, she had thought.

But she knew that he was right, time was ticking. And her fears had only been solidified by what Nakamura-san had come to say next.

"The Haitani have been spotted at their old club in Roppongi, the one you and Ken Ryuguji staked out a week ago. Our source got a whiff of a meeting that is gonna be held there a week from now. The Chano club was one of the first to launder money for Bonten, and rumor has it they're trying to get rid of it, no matter its popularity. It might become a bargaining chip for another gang. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, Baji-chan. There's no backing out now, the plan is setting in motion."

As if a bucket filled with iced water had been just thrown at her, Chizu sat upright in her chair, shivers running down her spine, her clouded mind making it hard to tell whether it was out of dread or excitement.

But when Chifuyu who had just gone to collect Takemichi from a long trip to the toilet, comes back to join their table at the wedding reception and discreetly leans over to whisper something in her ear, she has her answer.

Three days after she was told her life was about to get bent over by fate, surrounded by friends who liked to pretend to have their shit together, with the one chair they had purposely left empty looming over them like a dark cloud, which was proof enough of how their so-called happy future was anything but, she realized that the shivers shaking her body less than a week ago were, in fact, not out of fear.

"Our Takemichi is back," are Chifuyu’s words.

Anticipation, that's what it was. And while everyone was preoccupied with keeping up the lively atmosphere of the wedding, she finally let out the first real laugh of the day.

It was time.

She was gonna take on the Invincible Mikey.

—🎴—

Next chapter.

[tobifuyu]

Die For You • Masterlist

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

Baji Chizu infiltrates Bonten to get ahold of her childhood friend, Sano Manjirou. She quickly realizes he’s not the same man she remembers and loves and now, too deep in the grasp of Bonten, the only person willing to help her survive is the one she can’t stand the most, Haitani Ran.

cw: nsfw, mdni, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, fluff, angst, references to depression, drugs, panic attacks, blood and violence, prostitution, basically anything that has to do with bonten, protective haitani ran, sanzu haruchiyo is his own warning.

Prologue | Chapter 01 | Chapter 02 | Chapter 03 (coming soon!)

[tobifuyu]

Shopping with the Haitani Ran goes wrong!

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

Ran thinks you're too cute to be dressing this badly. He takes you shopping, finally gives in to his own desires and touches you in the dressing room. Chaos ensues.

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial.

words count: 5,398

a/n: this is actually my first time writing smut, or anything at all, so bear with me. the one shot is part of a longer fic that I will start posting pretty soon, set in the Bonten timeline, I just wanted to put out something in the meantime, mostly as practice. english is not my first language! enjoy.

If you think shopping with a man such as Haitani Ran would be an enjoyment of sorts, well, you’d be wrong.

If your damnation could be encased in a day it would be today out of all of them.

Haitani Ran is already a handful as it is, put him in a store-filled street, already dressed to the nines and parading around like he owns the motherfucking moon and stars and what comes out is a big ass headache and a lot of self-deprecation.

In theory, the idea was not half bad. Ran knows a lot about this kind of stuff: fashion, styling, brands… at least more than you do, no matter how much you’d like to keep up. And the amount of money in his bank account is – well, still a mystery to you – you can only imagine a lot, considering what he is wearing and the place he’s dragging you to with a big hand wrapped around your wrist.

So in theory him helping you pick out a few pieces of clothing you could buy with your weekly allowance didn’t sound too bad. Considering how extravagant he and his brother are, you were expecting to head over to Harajuku, and maybe try to dig out something he could style for you from a cool vintage store.

You didn’t think he would bring you to a mall.

You don’t even think you’d be allowed in such a place, normally, not in the way you’re dressed anyway.

I mean, you did try your hardest to look somewhat presentable, knowing you’d be running around with the Haitani Ran, but with your laughable budget and a very confused sense of style, you look like Ran had just picked you up from the sidewalk like one of those lone puppies you’d see in a sad movie and brought you around to keep him company while squatting at his feet and wiggling your tail.

You’ve just always liked too many trendy styles, buying a few pieces here and there and leaving you with no basics and nothing to match them with, and so y ou look out of place, walking into a brand store practically hand in hand with one of the most handsome guys those judgy store clerks have probably ever seen, with a timeless and classy outfit that makes him look like he belongs there.

And most importantly, that he can afford it.

Maybe the only thing that makes up for it is his crazy two-toned braids. Doesn’t make him look nearly as bad as you, but at least you know how to use a toner.

He spends some time looking around the racks after shooing the shopping assistant who tried to approach the two of you away, and you trail behind him like – yeah, you guessed it – a lost puppy with eyes cast down, as if trying to disappear, maybe then they’d stop staring holes through your bland white cardigan that’s a little too big for your frame since you eyeballed its size and then found it too comfy to size down.

And that’s because you and fitting rooms just don’t click. You find the whole process a little too tiring, both mentally and physically.

Who enjoys spending that much time undressing yourself to wear clothes that have been worn by god knows how many others and have yet to see a washing machine, just to cry the moment you get them on because fast fashion sizes don’t fit people but want people to fit in them? Also having to recollect yourself and patch up your makeup while redressing as quickly as possible cause a line has already formed outside the door, you can hear them, and you can already feel their judging stares the moment you are gonna leave all the clothes you tried on with the clerk, nonetheless, cause everything looked like absolute shit on you–

Draining, that’s what it is.

But it’s dread that you feel creeping up on you while approaching the said fitting rooms with one of Ran’s arms now circling your waist, the other doing the most to hold up a bunch of clothes that you can barely make out but you know he has picked out, just for you.

“We can skip this part.”

You had tried reasoning, just to get hit with a “Skip this part my ass, there’s no buying clothes without trying them on. That’s how you end up with that cardigan. And I’m paying for this shit, so we’ll do as I say, princess.”

Ouch, what a little bitch.

Maybe you shouldn’t be feeling remorse, after he’s reminded you so kindly of why he’s decided to do this in the first place, knowing he wants to pull out his wallet to soothe his pretty eyes from having to see you dressed like a mess all the time.

But you’re better than this, so you decide you’ll only pick something you can afford.

He’s nothing to you but a new acquaintance, after all.

A means to an end, you like to remind yourself. You’re not using him, not a hundred percent at least, cause he’s getting your shining company in return. But yeah… you just need him to get to Manjirou. Nothing more. Nothing fun… you swear to yourself.

You’re doing Toman a favor, continuing Draken’s underground work now that he’s gone. You know Takemichi and sweet Chifuyu don’t add up to much when it comes to planning.

You’ve heard about Ran’s little fixation on you from the grapevine. His own brother had admitted to him relentlessly talking about you. And now, with Kantou Manji looming over the future of you all, you knew you had to get involved.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Ran’s lazy lavender eyes have had you in a chokehold from the very first time the two of you met, years ago.

He and Rindou wanting to fight you and your brother – only the latter, really – just to find out that you don’t back down from a challenge.

(From that day onward, if you were to ask Rindou, he would say that’s when his brother started talking about you.)

So you let him lock you in the fitting room, one of those cool ones with mirrors and lights all around you but, most importantly, a sturdy door.

One you know, in a store this expensive, no one will start knocking on if you take too long squeezing into one of those tiny dresses.

Not that it does anything to stop Ran once you’ve declared you’ve tried on the first one.

A pretty lilac piece, that would complement him and his eyes more – you mentally decide you’d like to see that – but you would look pretty (for once) standing at his side.

If it weren’t for the fact that it’s a tad too little on your frame, as expected, squeezing all the wrong places, skin spilling over and all that (you can’t possibly know he’s picked it a size or two too small on purpose).

Especially your cleavage, meaning this is all but a dress you could just wear to parade around the streets with a gang member. It would send the wrong message. And god knows what would happen if that message were to reach someone from Toman. A blond-haired guy in particular.

Shame on you.

But you can’t dwell on it too much, with Ran bursting through the door, then closing it behind his frame with all the nonchalance in the world, as if it isn’t quite scandalous the way you’re half clad and enclosed in a tight space with a man older than you (not by much, but still), in a luxury store, with clerks circling the both of you like hawks.

He approaches your body, and you can tell he’s making a decision his head while scrutinizing the dress, or rather you, from over your shoulder.

You’re facing forward and can feel the heat of his body approaching way before you feel his front touch your back, his hands momentarily settling at your hips.

They then move lower, trying to smooth the fabric of the dress as if it would make it fit better, and you feel a shiver run through your spine at the contact.

The tips of his fingers are cold where they brush your naked thighs, so you blame it on that.

“Looks perfect on you.” his warm breath hits your neck as he speaks with that low voice of his.

Focus, goddamnit.

“I hope you’re joking. I can barely breathe, and I think my ass might be hanging out.”

You can feel his body shake with giggles, and you know he’s trying to contain them for your sake, even though he’s never been the one to shy away from public shaming, especially when it comes to you. Sigh.

“Mh, I don’t know about that, but the front looks good.” His hands make a b-line for your waist, squeezing the fat there before moving upwards to rest a breath away from your tits. The dress is so tight you didn’t need to wear a bra with that. “Gosh, would you look at that? Fucking perfect.”

“Ran,” you warn him, you know he’s just teasing you again, or rather, testing you.

You meet his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and you don’t want him to win one of the many little challenges he poses you with daily, so you hold his gaze, leaning the back of your head against his left shoulder.

He’s sure you’re the one tempting him at this point, deciding to play along in his little game that’s gonna ruin the both of you sooner or later, cause with that movement alone you’ve exposed your neck and cleavage like a white canvas, only his to paint.

“Fuck baby,” he groans and you feel yourself shivering once again, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? Or maybe you do, you little vixen.”

You laugh, “Is that all it takes to bring down the Haitani Ran? A dress that’s a little too small?” you want to hit his ego back, at least, for the way he’s making you feel.

So exposed and vulnerable.

And little, which you’re very much not, but the way he’s encasing you with his bigger body is making you look ridiculously tiny.

“Paired with these tits and hips yeah, might just be the one thing that’s gonna put an end to the Haitani’s reign.”

It’s mesmerizing, his tone of voice, the deep baritone laced with a hint of teasing and sass that drips from his lips like honey straight to your pliant ears and reverberates through your even more pliant body.

One of his fingers creeps up to the neckline of the dress and drags over its seams with such a delicately that you wouldn’t even have caught it if you weren’t so busy trying to follow his every move and breath, leaving the haze of his purple eyes that split second enough to record the very movement.

“Ran, I don’t think this is appropriate.” You try to hide your smirk as you say that, knowing that is not gonna stop him but rather rile him up.

He smirks back, grabbing you by the chin with his free hand so he can turn your head to face him. “Since when have you become such a prude, uh?”

“I have always been, you’re the one trying to taint my innocence, remember?”

You’re not completely joking at this point, he’s been trying to get a reaction out of you since you’ve started hanging out more frequently.

He knows you shouldn’t, but he’s adamant in getting you to admit he can rile you up just as easily.

A dark set of lashes shade his lavender hues as he stares down at you, pondering over what to do next without scaring you too badly.

“Can I kiss you?” There he goes, he just couldn’t resist himself, could he?

You just look so good, dressed in something he picked for you, standing in this tiny space with him draped around you. He wants to eat you up.

“No.”

Ouch. That hurts. How could you say no to him? Look at me, he thinks, and as if you can read his twisted mind, you do just that.

He is so irresistible, with one of his long braids slipping past your shoulder, hair tickling your skin the same way his hand is still doing over the hem of the dress. Pink full lips shaped in a pout you think he’s sporting more to get pity out of you rather than because he cares. But you’re a woman of great self-control.

Or so you thought.

“Just– you can touch me. To fix the dress.”

You two are so close, practically glued to each other, it’s not the first time it’s happened but your body still reacts like it’s being shocked every time he touches you.

And Ran thinks it’s more than he thought you’d allow yourself to go, so he does just that, to fix the dress, that is.

It’s to fix the dress that he grasps the fullness of both your tits in his big palms, no need to use one hand to hold your face to him anymore as you instantly rotate towards his frame to hide your face in the curve of his neck, soft lips pushed against his pale skin to muffle the sighs that you’re letting out at his bold move.

He doesn’t hesitate to squeeze them, pushing them up to prop the fat against the hem of the dress as if to make it fit properly, or as properly as the set image he has in his head, which is everything but proper.

“Fuck, you have such pretty tits.” He’s groaning in your ear at this point, enjoying the way you’re letting him touch you a little too much if the way he starts rubbing against you from behind is of any indication.

You can’t help your body from trying to mold to his touch, back arching and pushing against the hands caressing you over the skimpy fabric of the dress.

One of them is heading lower, running over the hills of your torso and hip before grabbing onto the flesh of your right thigh. The other keeps teasing you with precision and reaches over the hem to pull it down and expose your skin to the cold of the fitting room.

A perked nipple is encased by his long fingers, nails scraping over the bud to tease a soft moan out of your mouth. You grab onto one of his braids, slightly pulling before blindly looking for the hair tie. It’s removed with swift hands that you then run along its length to free it from the twists, so you can bury a hand at the back of his nape, pulling him towards you – as if he could get any closer – scratching the skin there as payback.

“R-Ran” your body is starting to heat up, the cold air surrounding the two of you doing nothing to cool you down. “‘Need more, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” At that the hand that has been massaging the fat of your thigh creeps under the bottom of the infamous dress, making you unable to see his next move even from the reflation of the mirror.

But you can feel him skimming over your panties with his fingertips, pressing against the wet patch that has formed there.

“You got wet just from this? Must be really desperate, uh. ‘ve barely touched you.”

What a piece of shit, you think.

But your body likes this side of his, the degrading and teasing, and it especially likes the way the pad of his finger is now pressing against your clit, unexpectedly making you let out a moan that you didn’t think you’d be capable of. Always the quiet one.

“Shh, you wouldn’t want them to hear us, now, would you?” He’s rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves, touching it just right, just like you would, alone in your room (while thinking about him, probably), making it hard to think or even remotely feel shame. “Maybe you’d like that? Mh? Want them to know making you feel good, right, pretty girl?”

When you don’t care enough to answer he pinches your clit over the wet fabric of your underwear, the whimpering noise you let out like music to his ears.

You just really want to feel his skin on yours, but too shy to ask for it you decide to do the next best thing. With the hand that is not too busy pulling the back of his head, you reach between your legs and push the fabric of your panties aside, exposing your pussy to the air without a care in the world.

If desperation had a face, at this point, it would most definitely look like yours.

“Ah shit, pretty-“

“Touch me, Ran.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He finds your clit once again, not before running through the dripping folds and collecting the wetness with the pad of his fingers, just to rub it over your soft spot with careful precision.

His hand gives one final flick to your nipple before joining the other between your thighs, raising the lower hem of the dress to fully expose your wetness under the bright lights of the fitting room, just so he can take a good look in the reflection of the mirror.

You’re no saint, but also no one has ever touched you like this before, and the pleasure is pushing you to do things you probably would never even think of when the two of you are apart (but maybe you will, from this day forward).

That is why you reach down to grasp the wrist of his other hand, redirecting him to where you want to feel his touch, before slipping your fingers through his as if to show him what to do to you.

You feel his lips move against your ear before you register him talking, “Princess, you want my fingers? Hm?”

At that, you couldn’t nod faster, waiting for his touch to finally skim your opening, and once it does, you know he understands how much you need him, cause you see him raise his fingers as if to take a double look at the viscous liquid now wetting his skin. He rubs it over you then, spreading it on top of your clit to make his other hand work smoothly.

He stops right before he could slip in, making you whine in disagreement. “Need to hear you say it, baby.”

All these pet names are new to you, he usually sticks to one a day, trying them out on his tongue before throwing the chosen one at you with the most annoying tone he could muster to, simply put, annoy the fuck out of you, as he does with pretty much everything else.

But the way he’s saying them now, between rushed breaths and a voice so strained that nearly makes you believe he’s the one being played with, does unspeakable things to you.

So you give in like you’ve learned to do with him lately. “R-rannie, please, want you… to touch me.”

“What do you need me to do, pretty? Speak up, use your big girl’s words.”

“Need your fingers. Inside me.” You feel like the air in the dressing room is thinning out, and you need to get this done as fast as possible.

That’s until his pointer slips past your hole. The moment his other fingers resume their rubbing over your bundle of nerves, while he’s opening you up, that’s when you actually start praying for time to stop.

Maybe if his hands were to leave your frame now you would crumble to the ground and die. That’s a new fear you have just unlocked because you don’t think you could ever go back to how life was before he made you feel what you’re feeling right now.

Alive.

Like every nerve ending is tingling and responding to the sweet sounds he’s making, or maybe the ones he’s pulling out of you. You don’t know what makes you more turned on, the effect you have on him, or the grip he has on you.

He starts moving his lone finger in and out, gently, testing out how far he can reach before you clench around him in pain.

He rubs over the ridges of your walls looking for something, trying out different patterns, and bumping against the outside of your hole with the palm of his hand to stimulate all of you once he slips completely inside, reaching as deep as his long digit permits.

At first, it doesn’t feel like much, you can tell he’s an expert but he’s just getting to know you. You think the feeling of fullness alone is enough to get a kick out of you, as long as he keeps massaging your clit in a, now, slower motion, as if he has nothing to rush about, not one care in the world. But it creeps up on you when you least expect it.

You thought he oversold himself with that oozing confidence that he sports 24/7, but as he starts laying open-mouthed kisses over your neck, running up its column, until he finds your sweet spot nested just below your ear and right by your clenching jaw, so does his finger.

“Fuuck. Oh my fucking god.” you heave.

Yeah, his lips are a godsend, but the way he’s bumping against that one spot inside of you with the tip of his digit just now is downright delicious.

He builds up a rhythm then. Fucking into you with more force and confidence, not forgetting to hit that patch of skin even for a single time.

“You like that, uh?” he asks like he doesn’t know, pressing his mouth against the underside of your jaw to drag his tongue along your salty skin, moaning at the taste. He asks as if you’re not clenching around his finger like your life depends on it, as if you want to capture it and hold him inside you to never feel empty again.

He realizes you need more, and he wants to give you his cock. Wants to stuff you full to the brim, cause he can feel how greedy your cunt is, so he knows you would eventually take him all inside, no matter how big.

You’re thinking the same, imagining how good it would feel to have him fuck you against the mirror that’s fogging up in front of you. You’re seeing the moon and the fucking stars with the tip of his finger alone. You wonder if his cock is big enough to kiss that little spot just right with his leaky tip.

He leaves you little to wonder, with the way his hips are bumping against you from behind. You can clearly make out the size of his length, now fully erected, as it rubs against your ass.

“Ran, fuck, I need more!”

And you both know that, but he also knows how ridiculously tight you are, how much he would have to open you up to take his cock, how he might need to spend hours with his head between your legs, fasting on your wet cunt just to make you loosen up. He’d do that gladly, but not now, in this fitting room.

So he just joins his pointer with his middle finger, carefully trying to fit in a second one through your squeezing muscles.

“No, Ran-“ you’re ready to beg, get on the ground on your knees, and plead him to have his way with you.

This is so not like you.

Or maybe it was, all along. You just needed someone to free you at last.

“You’re not ready to take my cock yet.” His tone is firm like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “I can barely fit two fingers in, pretty. You need to let me in, gonna make you cream around them, ‘kay?”

You swear the way he’s looking at you through the mirror alone is your undoing. You see his eyes running back and forth to your half-open ones, so you follow the gaze rolling over your exposed tits, heaving with your labored breaths, until reaching the apex of your thighs.

Two of his fingers are now plunging into your wet opening, the squelching sound being so loud to tint both of your cheeks red, and a ring of white collecting around the circumference of his digits, before dripping down your parted legs at the force of his thrusts. Your clit is still being rubbed raw, the intensity increasing with every passing minute, making you twitch in his firm grasp.

The whole picture is insanely erotic, something you haven’t even experienced in your fantasies yet.

It’s so intense that you feel your cheeks get wet from the unexpected tears now streaming down your face.

You’re a cryer, he’s elated.

You’re trying hard to muffle a scream, but Ran has you blocked in his grasp with both of his arms running over yours, so you have to turn and bite at the skin of his collarbone to do so, as you grip over his forearms, leaving behind the half-moon indentation of your nails.

He groans, letting his head lol back as you lick over the bruise; the skin has torn and you can taste the blood. As he speeds up the fingers that are massaging your clit, you realize that both of you might enjoy a little pain mixed with pleasure.

The overstimulation is so overbearing that you know you should’ve come long ago, but he’s taking you to such heights that you just can’t seem to let yourself go when alone in your bed you would have long given up and just taken a shitty orgasm as a win before retiring to sleep.

“Feel so- god, it’s so fucking good, Ran. Don’t stop, please please-“You don’t stop begging and he doesn’t stop thrusting, both his fingers and his hips behind your frame, chasing his orgasm against the plush of your ass.

He wants to pull his cock out of his pants and rub it against your skin. The dress has raised over the globes of your behind, he wishes he could just come all over it.

But he has no intention of ever slowing down his hands, not with the way you’re trembling against him, and not until you come, completely undone and fucked up from just two of his fingers.

You look so beautiful like this, with tears streaming down your reddening face, lips bitten, unfortunately not by him, and your cunt taking his fingers so well. Like the good girl he knows you are under all that sass.

He glances down at the scene one more time.

Your pussy is so pretty, glistening wet, he could finish right here and then.

He wants you to fucking come while screaming his name, no one else’s. He doesn’t care if they hear, he wants them to.

Ran wishes for more than just the clerks hearing you come undone for him.

At that thought something snaps inside of him.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Fucking tell me.” You snap out of the blubbering mess you’ve become, not because of the inexplicably angry tone of his request, but because he’s slowing down his movements and you were not expecting that.

Does he not know by now that you like his roughness? You need to come so badly.

“Please fuck don’t stop, please-“

“I said who’s making you feel this fucking good.” Ran doesn’t like to think he’s a jealous guy.

He’s The Haitani Ran, after all. There has never been any need for him to be.

But now that he has tasted heaven, here in this tiny dressing room with you, he doesn’t think he can stop.

He wants to make you his, and if that means he has to deprive you of your very first orgasm given by someone else so that you can come back running for more, so be it.

“You, Ran! Fuck it’s all you! You make me feel so go-” The slap that resonates in the small space it’s the thing that stops you from completing your praise.

Ran’s fingers have stopped moving inside of you completely, and his other hand has raised to slap your spasming cunt.

A scream of his name finally does rip out of your parted lips. There’s no way you could’ve avoided that.

And the new canting of your hips that are raising to chase a ruined orgasm is to little avail, you just don’t seem to reach the promised land.

Against all odds, Ran doesn’t resume touching you, even his hips are now resting firmly some inches away from yours, not even letting you feel him anymore.

He presses father light kisses from the column of your neck up to the side of your jaw, retracing the path he had run with languish before, until he can sweetly kiss your burning cheek as if to gently bring you down from the orgasm that never happened while he removes his fingers from inside of you, leaving you eerily empty.

“I- I didn’t come.” you’re still trembling at this point, but for a different reason. You think he might have mistaken any of your reactions for you reaching your long-awaited end.

You’ve heard some stories, you know some guys can’t even tell right from left when it comes to a woman's body.

But you’re wrong about him. “I know.”

More kisses are left on the side of your face, you’d think the gesture sweet if it weren’t for the ever-present grin you can feel against your skin.

“What- why?” the way you’re asking nearly breaks his heart, you sound so confused, broken. But that’s exactly what he needs, right? He needs to be the one to guide you.

“Because I’m not letting you come. You’re not my girl.” Your eyes are big like saucers, and you’ve turned your head to stare at him, he thinks this situation is so fun he could giggle.

“But I thought-“

“Just leave him, pretty girl. You’ve already forgotten about him, haven’t you? It was my name you were screaming, it was my cock you were begging for. Leave him, and come back crawling to me. Maybe then, I’ll think about letting you come.”

He takes some steps further away from you then, cold but still careful enough to make sure you won’t fall the moment he lets you on your own, bringing his soiled fingers up to his mouth. You watch in silence as he licks them clean. He’s making a show of it, engulfing the digits in his mouth and sucking around them as he moans. You’re so turned on you could die right there and then.

He then hits you with a “Fuck, you taste like heaven, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Before diving right back in, licking the skin one last time for safekeeping.

And now, you don’t know what’s worse: the cheshire grin stretching the pinkish of Ran’s lips while he’s downright degrading you after depriving you of an orgasm and, honestly, your self-respect;

Maybe it’s the fact that sweet Chifuyu’s face had only flashed behind your eyelids at his mention, after you’ve probably done one of the worst things you could ever do to him, or in your life, really;

… or the fact that you had to walk out of there, and wait for Ran to pay for the stained dress, cause he wouldn’t let you leave without making a scene. Knowing damn well that everyone in the shop had heard the two of you and is now looking with a mix of: reverence towards Ran, and hatred for you, by all women and men who rightfully wished to be in your stand.

At the end of the day, you were right. Fitting rooms would ever only leave you a crying mess, with clothes too little to fit; and shopping with Ran Haitani was hell made on earth.

At least you were convinced this was gonna be the last time you would ever accompany him – anywhere, really – or so you thought…