Here, Take This.

Here, take this.

THE FUCKING SCREAM I SCRUMPT!!!!!!! THIS IS SO HOT IM LOSING MY MIND!!!!!!!11111

High Stakes| Ran H.

Includes| secret agent! Ran Haitani x secret agent! Reader

Warnings| fem! reader, violence, murder, mentioned gambling, implied harassment, guns, mirror sex, dry humping, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Notes| mwah! another repost.

Ran is making plans to return to the Bloody Lotus when he’s not working. Bright eyes scan the clientele, and fingers drum the side of his glass, he decides he likes the energy. Rich people are always eager to spend their earnings, to show off their pregnant coin purses and boast about investments and returns and how they’ve recently deprived the world of another useless piece of art that costs more than it has any right to. Rich people paired with alcohol makes this place a breeding ground for ‘Too Much Information’. Ran affectionately calls it TMI, and it’s the reason he’s here tonight. To collect some of that.

When he returns though, when he’s off the clock, he’ll be here for the pretty call girls and the lacquered cards that are screaming his name. Absently he raises his glass to his lips. Tonight he is not Ran Haitani, Agent 001. Tonight he is simply Ran Haitani, one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors, and a potential investor in whatever business venture Izana Kurokawa has cooked up.

He glances around the lobby, careful not to make eye contact with you as the balding man’s hand snags on the exposed flesh of your upper thigh. Ran’s grip on his glass tightens reflexively. He reminds himself that if he kills Lorano now they’re fucked and you would’ve been groped for no reason. He remains quiet, pretending to take in the brightly lit room with its marbled floor and high ceiling.

To his left is the entrance to the VIP section where he’s currently perched at the bar. It’s a pair of glass doors flanked on either side by two large men dressed to the nines but sporting firearms. Through the glass, he can see regular patrons, the upper-middle-class dressed in their best and whispering to each other over glasses of overpriced champagne. Some are gambling their way down the social ladder without really paying any attention to it.

To his right is the entrance to Izana’s private quarters. Well, for the most part. To his right actually stands a set of hand-carved mahogany double doors. Those doors don’t lead anywhere. Behind them is an elevator leading to the rooftop of this fine establishment and the only true way to access Izana’s quarters is from the rooftop entrance. A little way off from those doors is a simple nondescript door that leads to the stairwell on the inside of the building. The stairwell gets as high as the private rooms of Izana’s friends. If all went well Ran would be on that floor within the hour.

He’s brought out of his reverie when you warble spilling a little of the drink in your tray onto Lorano. He’s impressed by your ability to mold into any character as he listens through the earpiece. You lay on a faux Italian accent, as you scramble to apologize that immediately has Lorano perking up, and Ran has to sip from his glass to cover his disgust when one of the buttons on the man’s shirt pops open at the movement.

Izana dresses his female employees in the most ridiculous things. Tonight’s number is a sheer black leotard, the front covered in some sort of stitched design that just barely covers your breasts, the back so low it dips beneath the band of the too-tight, too-short black skirt paired with it. The shoes are strappy and wound all the way up to above your knee. The heel and platform are so high that Ran winces internally as he watches the ease with which some of these girls can maneuver the tables and crowd in them.

He’s whispering to you in rapid-fire Italian, things Ran wishes he didn’t understand, promises to treat you right, questions about how long you’ll be working for. His grubby hands trail down to your thigh when you bend across him to replace his drink and even from this distance Ran can see the way your fingers on the tray flex.

An irrational amount of pride swells in his gut when your smile doesn’t even waiver, and for a second he’s so transfixed he almost doesn’t hear when one of Lorano’s lackeys bends into his other ear to let him know Izana was ready for him. Ran’s heart slows, his eyes locking with yours as he starts moving. Based on Wakasa’s intel Izana’s meetings are held on the roof, and there should be a viewing room on that floor. Only one elevator goes to that floor and it requires either Izana’s Identification card or the code, a code only he knows. Ran subtly adjusts the face of his watch, a beautiful Patek Phillipe piece he’d paid Inui out of pocket to have modified. He chuckles when he reaches the door of the stairwell and Wakasa’s voice filters through his ear.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little when Lorano asked if she eats ass,” Ran can hear Wakasa’s shudder. He uses the knuckle on his index to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, activating the screen on the camera on the left screen. “Take a step back Ran, need to see the entire door.” Ran shuffles back feigning glancing at the floor in front of the door and then back up. “Thank you,” Wakasa says, and Ran fidgets as he begins to count down in his head. “You ready big guy? You have thirty seconds to climb three flights of stairs before the camera’s auto-reboot.”

Ran glances to his left and right quickly before nodding. “Go.”

He doesn’t even register the door slamming behind him as he flies up the stairs. He’s mastered the art of running in suits at this point. His chain lifts with his movements until finally, he catches the pendant between his teeth to stop it. He uses the rail to hoist himself up, taking the stairs four at a time until the leather sole of his shoe lands on the dark marble of the top floor. He skids a little, catching himself on the wall. “Twenty-six seconds,” Wakasa tells him. “Not bad.”

Ran chuckles. “You talk too much Wakasa. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” Wakasa retorts. “Every time we work together.”

“Lorano’s on his way up,” your voice interrupts them both. “And I’m coming with him.”

Ran tenses. “That was not part of the fucking plan,” he says as he stalks the length of the hall. He passes his room, heading for the elevator. He watches as the numbers change.

“Yeah but it’s smarter than the original,” Wakasa admits. “If she gets up there Izana’ll send her back down because employees aren’t allowed on that floor. Which means she’ll control the elevator.”

Ran curses, because Wakasa’s right. “Fuck.” He watches as the elevator gets to the top floor and then ten minutes later he watches as it begins its descent. The impromptu change works and Ran finds himself face to face with you not thirty seconds later.

“Camera’s are down,” Wakasa announces. “Double-loop so it looks like she came off the elevator. Shouldn’t have any issues if no one is standing at the elevator doors.”

And no one is standing there. In fact, getting into the viewing area is too easy, not only that but they find that it’s not just a viewing area. Ran takes a good scan of the room following Wakasa’s instructions until they land on a row of computers and Wakasa almost moans in both your ears. It’s the central command.

“I despise Izana Kurokawa,” he hisses. “I hope he knows I’m praying for his downfall. Specifically, because this setup is so beautiful he doesn’t deserve it.”

Ran glances at you out of the corner of his eye and almost swallows his tongue when he finds you squatting at one of the outlets. Your ass stretches the material of the skirt and Ran has to force himself to look away as you get on your knees to press the switch. One of the older computers lights up next to Ran and Wakasa honest-to-gods giggles.

“Ran, plug the flash drive in there,” Wakasa instructs. “Turn it on and where is my beautiful little amateur hacker. Get your ass over here.”

Ran tunes in to the conversation between Izana and Lorano, looking out through the glass at them from his spot. Izana as always is dressed in some elaborate get up, his second in command stands to his left his arms folded and the disgust in his expression clear as he looks at Lorano.

“It’s quite simple,” Izana is saying. “You join me, I get control of your men, I pay you to speak when spoken to.”

Lorano looks torn. “It’s not that simple, my men will not respect me anymore,” he tries to explain.

“Lorano,” Izana coos. “Your men don’t pay you. Your men are ungrateful pigs. Your men are incompetent criminals. Your men are failures as men. Their respect for you isn’t worth hot shit even if it came from a god.” Izana’s men laugh and Ran winces at the shade of red Lorano turns. “Think about the respect you’ll earn from the rest of Japan when they find you’re associated with me.”

This seems to give Lorano pause and Ran scoffs. He wonders what Izana might have offered him if he planned to stick around long enough to hear.

“How much are you offering?” Lorano finally says.

“I’m offering you a salary,” Izana says slowly, in case Lorano misunderstood. “Not a percentage cut of the shit I make.”

Lorano swallows, and the microchip in the collar of his shirt picks up the sound extra loudly. Ran almost gags. “How much?”

“Five hundred thousand dollars a month,” Izana says and Ran is appalled at the way Lorano immediately agrees. He wonders if Lorano knows that he’s signing this document in his blood. And just as Ran expected when Izana verifies that Lorano has in fact signed over his properties and his men he opens his palm and Ran shifts when a gun is placed in it. “It was great doing business with you,” Izana frowns and Lorano doesn’t have time to scream before the gun goes off and his pudgy body is falling face first into his dinner, blood mixing with the delicacies on the plate. Ran’s thoughts are interrupted by Wakasa’s curse.

“What?” he snaps turning back to where you’re tapping away at the computer screen.

“You’ve got company,” Wakasa says quickly. “Fuck. Two incoming looks like Izana’s personal guard and the Head of Security.”

Ran’s head snaps to the door when he hears the telltale sounds of footsteps coming down the corridor. “How much longer, angel?”

You tap away at the keyboard rapidly. “We’re at 87%,” you scramble to type faster but Ran’s already dragging you away from the desk. “What the fuck are you—”

“You can punch me in the face afterward,” he whispers quickly. And then he’s kissing you. Tentatively at first, just a soft brushing of his lips that immediately has you relaxing in his hold. One large hand cups your face to angle your head better and the other dips into the base of your spine, curling you closer to him. His fingertips are warm as they trail the length of your spine. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shudder, your nipples pebbling in the thin material at the contact. You’re frozen, struck dumb by the gentleness of his kiss, eyes wide open so you see the way long lashes brush the tops of his cheeks.

Ran pulls back just far enough to growl against your mouth. “Kiss me back, angel.” And then he’s running the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip and they’re parting to let him in. His tongue is eager and warm and so soft as it brushes confidently at yours that your toes curl.

Your body presses closer to his, your hands winding around his shoulders as you kiss him back. It’s the consent he needed. The kiss grows intense, Ran’s tongue dipping farther, his head slanting to deepen the kiss. You’re suddenly reminded of your lack of underwear when Ran’s hand comes up to grasp the back of your head, the one cupping your face drops to your thigh as he backs you into the desk. He hoists you onto the surface easily, your body displacing the keyboard, and stack of papers next to it. His grip on your thigh slips to the back of your knee and he hikes it up around his waist, to slot himself between your legs, bending you back a little so you’re propped against the monitor.

“Fuck,” he groans when your fingers tangle in his hair. You tug his head back harshly, desperation making your movements a little rough as you press sloppy, lipstick stain kisses along the side of his neck and the column of his throat. You wonder if he’s wanted to do this as bad as you have. If he’s ever lost sleep thinking about the contours of your body the way you have. Or imagined the softness of your lips, the taste of your mouth, the feel of your hands on him. Because you’ve spent countless nights with your fingers between the folds of your pussy, rubbing circles into your clit imagining they’re Ran Haitani’s fingers or his tongue. Many nights with your dildo pumping furiously into you imagining it’s Ran Haitani’s cock molding and shaping your insides for him.

The guards are forgotten as Ran presses the length of his body to yours. The hard outline of his cock rubs into the damp crotch of your leotard when you finally bring your lips back to his. Your kissing becomes frantic and sloppy. Ran devours your mouth, fucking it with his tongue in a way you know he’d easily replicate in your cunt. Your body bucks when his fingers climb your thigh, his knuckles rubbing the sensitive skin as it inches higher. You moan into his mouth and Ran’s responding chuckle sends chills down your spine.

“Bet you’ve soaked through this flimsy thing,” he mumbles, lips not pulling away far enough for you to focus on his features. His kisses move from your lips down to your neck and throat. “Probably got a messy little pussy.”

You whine, arching as though you can get any closer than you already are. Your fingers catch in his jacket as you try to push them off his shoulders. Ran eases back just enough to free his arms, dropping the jacket next to you as he resumes his previous position. You get a glimpse of how well he fills out the silk shirt beneath and realize this isn’t enough. You want to feel his skin, you want to rake your nails down his back and mark him with your teeth. Just as you think this Ran’s teeth latch onto the erogenous area where your neck and shoulders meet. Your moan is absolutely wanton. You feel him shudder in your arms as he reaches for the strap of the onesie and rips it down your arm freeing one of your breasts for his hungry mouth. It’s only as you toss your head back, lips parted on a sigh at the gentle sucking of Ran’s mouth on your nipple, to give him better access to your body, that you see the two men in the doorway.

Your squeak of surprise is genuine as your hand scrambles to clutch Ran’s shoulders. The sound seems to snap both men out of their stupor and you watch as they straighten to their full height. Your mind clears quickly, embarrassment sinking like lead in the pit of your stomach at your actions. Ran’s grin is lazy, almost natural as he glances over his shoulder, you’re grateful for the width of him as he angles his body to block out whatever view they might’ve had of you. One of Ran’s hands still clutches your waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as though he knows you’re struggling to get it together.

“Gentlemen?” Ran’s smile falters perfectly, even the breathless hitch in his tone is staged. It feels like a bucket of ice water has been doused on you. Of course. Of course, none of this was real. He’d just saved both your asses. You wonder if he knows you weren’t acting. You tense in his arms and his grip on your waist tightens. “Can we help you?”

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” the shorter one says. Even from here, you can tell he’s the scarier and more than likely Izana’s head of security. Bleached buzzcut with parallel strips of his natural hair color running from the corners of his hairline back. You might’ve giggled at the fact that he resembled a tennis ball if he didn’t pull his gun. His eyes narrow when Ran frowns and glances at you.

“Sorry? Is this not the guest floor?” Ran’s confusion is so convincing you almost don’t feel when he slips the flash drive up your thighs. It takes all of your self-control not to react as his fingers dip into the sticky mess between your thighs and slide the flash drive flat across the crotch of the leotard. Your hand snaps out to clutch his arm and he chuckles. “She’s a needy thing,” he shrugs. “Couldn’t quite make it to my room.”

The taller one adjusts his glasses and steps into the room and Tennis ball follows him. “How’d you get up here, Mr. Haitani?”

Ran blinks at him like he’s stupid. “The elevator?” You squirm in his arms, playing your part as the brainless, shy employee, who’ll probably get in trouble for fraternizing with one of Izana’s VIP guests. Ran straightens to his full height, fixing the straps of your onesie and closing your legs as he turns to face both men. He stands a little shorter than the one with the glasses but he’s broader and you know that if this comes down to a fight you could take the taller one while Ran takes the other. “What’s really going on here? Have I done something wrong?” His tone is carefully accusing.

Glasses sighs through his nose. He knows there’s no way Ran should’ve gotten to this floor undetected but starting a fight with one of Izana’s friends is the last thing he needs to do right now. “This floor is off-limits to guests. They lead to Mr. Kurokawa’s private rooms.”

Ran’s expression morphs into a perfect mask of embarrassment and regret. You hope the horror in your expression as you clamber to your feet, swaying a little in your heels is convincing. “Ah, sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got a little distracted,” he motions with his thumb to you over his shoulder and you look away. “We can move.”

He reaches for his jacket when Tennis ball chips in. “Wait a minute,” he says, slipping his gun back into the holster. “You’re not leaving until we search you.”

Ran bristles as they expect him to, head jerking back like he’s been slapped. His jaw clenches, fingers flexing. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said Mr. Haitani,” Tennis ball snatches Ran’s jacket and passes it to Glasses who begins to rummage through the pockets. “Spread your legs for me.” Ran tenses but does as he’s told.

The flash drive feels like it’s weighing you down as Ran gets the all-clear and Glasses starts toward you. “Seriously?” Ran scoffs. “She’s half-naked, where the fuck would she hide anything?”

That seems to give both men pause. You make sure to shudder for good measure as they step aside. Ran grabs your arm glaring at both men as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and guides you out of the room. Glasses follows after you, making a quick call for someone to send the elevator down before taking you both down to the VIP floor. “This is you,” he says nodding at Ran as he leads you out of the elevator.

Ran takes you to his room and as soon as the doors are closed you shrug off his jacket. Your heart is pounding in your chest. That could’ve gone horribly. Your hands are trembling as you wobble over to the spacious bathroom.

“You still make the prettiest sounds,” Wakasa’s voice comes over the earpiece, and you yelp, stumbling back and almost falling onto your ass. In the midst of everything it seems you’d both forgotten about Wakasa. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says gently. “Just thought you should know. They’re the still prettiest I’ve ever heard.”

“Wakasa,” you hiss. “Can Ran-

“He can’t,” Wakasa reassures you. “I muted us. I’m gonna take these off until you’re out of this room. In case, you want to finish what you started.” You open your mouth to argue that you were just trying to save your asses when Wakasa continues. “And before you tell me you were just trying to stay alive try to remember how well I know you.”

There’s a distinct click and you know Wakasa can no longer hear you. A tentative knock sounds on the door and Ran’s voice carries through the wood. “You good in there?” He asks. “We got what we came for, we can leave.”

His comment reminds you of his earlier actions and you immediately reach between your thighs and pull the slippery flash drive free, yank open the door and slap it against his chest. “Yeah,” you say giddily. “I’m about ready to go.” And then you haul your fist back and slam it into his nose. “Do not ever do some shit like that again,” you snap. “Next time we fucking kill them.”

Ran’s eyes darken, as he clutches his nose. It’s not broken but it hurts like a motherfucker and he’s not at all surprised when he inhales and it burns. His eyes water as he glares at you incredulously. “You’re not serious.”

“Deathly,” you say, releasing the flash drive so he has to scramble to catch it. It’s soaked in your arousal, the scent heady as he clutches it. You poke him in the chest. “If you ever, ever touch me like that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

Silence envelopes you for a few seconds and then Ran chuckles. You’re about to snap at him again when his hand wraps around your throat. “You’re so transparent,” he smirks. “I bet you’re not even mad I touched you.” He squeezes your throat, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “You’re probably mad because we were interrupted,” he drops the flash drive on the counter. “Mad that you didn’t get to cum.” He’s slowly cutting off the blood flow to your head, his fingers pressing into the blood vessels on either side of your neck. “Wanted me to clean up the mess I made of your pussy?”

His free arm wraps around your waist and lifts you onto the counter, your hands immediately reach for the wrist of the hand around your throat, your nails dig into the soft flesh as he scoots back onto the counter and spreads your legs to make room for him. You’re dizzy by the time his grip loosens. “Answer me,” his voice softens to just above a whisper, his finger massaging your neck gently. “Do you want me to clean up the mess I made, angel? Is that what this is about?”

You almost shake your head but Ran gives you a look. Like he’ll know if you’re lying. Like you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. So you nod, swallowing when he flashes you a beautiful smile. “Yeah? But I need to hear you say it,” he breathes. “Say ‘Please eat my pussy Ran’. Go on.”

His hand has reached your jaw and his thumb is rubbing distracting little circles into the side of your bottom lip as you repeat after him. A not of breathlessness in your voice. “Please- please eat my pussy Ran.”

His groan as he leans forward to kiss the spot he’d been rubbing has your heart rate increasing, the organ beating wildly at his words. “You don’t know how badly I need to taste you.” He drops to his knees, careful to work your feet out of your heels before he kisses the inside of one ankle and then your calf that he massages and then the inside of your knee and then the fat of your thighs until he’s propping that foot on the edge of the counter and then he does the same to the other. Showering them in kisses, massaging them until they’re jelly and then he’s easing your skirt over your thighs. Working it down to your ankles and discarding it next to him on the floor. He’s almost reverent. The way he treats your body, and it makes sense. Because it feels a lot like he’s worshipping you.

He takes a moment to take you in. The leotard is cut higher than he’d initially expected and he almost salivates as he watches you bring your legs back up to the counter, butterflying them open for him. An entire lip of your pussy has escaped the scrap of material that should be covering it. He can’t help himself when he leans forward to suck the poor flesh into his mouth. And the sound he makes when he finally gets your taste on his tongue makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. One hand wraps loosely around an ankle as he shuffles closer, his nose brushing into your cunt as he pulls back with a wet smack only to latch onto the ruined material between your thighs. His other hand rests in the juncture of your thigh, his thumb pulling apart your pussy. “Look how fucking pretty that is,” he whispers to himself, as strings of arousal stretch and snap each time he repeats the movement. “Fucking hell.”

You reach for his head, fingers sinking into his hair to tug him closer. “Fuck,” you whine. “Ran!” Your body bows when he pushes the material to the side and properly buries his tongue into your cunt. He fucks you with it like you imagine he’d fuck you with his cock. His head bobbing, nose bumping into your clit. He groans again at the rush of liquid that floods his mouth as you squirm.

Ran’s hands press your legs a little wider when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He watches, eyes wide, lips parted and glistening with your arousal as the spit drips down to your entrance. He drops his head between your legs again just give your clit a soft kiss. He chuckles when you whine his name, your hold on him slackening when he dips the index of one finger into your cunt. Your body swallows him eagerly, your walls squeezing around the digit. He removes it to add another two to it, his brows furrowing as he watches the way your cunt struggles to take those three fingers. “Shit and you’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

You squeal when he stands, fingers still buried in your pussy, to kiss you. He swallows every little noise you make, every whine and gasp as he works your cunt open diligently. Maybe if you weren’t so distracted you might’ve questioned why he’d need to stretch you out this well. But you’re cumming with a soft keen of his name, shuddering in his arms as he fucks you through it. The sound your pussy makes when Ran finally pulls his fingers free makes you burn with embarrassment but the way he casually stuffs those fingers into his mouth, lids fluttering at your taste. He strips with one hand, dragging his silk shirt off and quickly undoing his belt buckle.

By the time his cock springs free you’ve wiggled your way out of the last piece of clothing and you’re dizzy with anticipation. Your first reaction is apprehension. Ran’s cock is thick and heavy, the weight enough to have it hanging between his thighs. He’s also a little longer than average with a fat mushroomed head. Your second reaction is desperation. Imagining the stretch of your pussy to accommodate his cock has you shuffling to the edge of the counter, eyes wide as you reach for his cock to rest it against your cunt.

“Shit,” Ran hisses when his cock makes contact with the slick lips of your pussy. He’s bucking his hips almost instinctively, one hand pressing his cock in place as he fucks your pussy lips steadily. And the picture Ran Haitani makes drunk on you before he’s even slid his cock inside you is enough to have your eyes watering. He’s beautiful. His hair in disarray, sticking to his forehead and standing askew from your hands, his lips swollen from your kisses, his skin flushed from his cheeks to his chest, and his eyes. Hooded and bright with an emotion you cannot identify.

You’re so distracted by him that you don’t register he’s shifted his cock down to your entrance until the head of his cock squeeze into your hole and you choke on a gasp. Ran kisses you then, a slow, deep affair that wipes your mind of any coherent thought. Your stomach flip flops when he pulls you closer to him, wrapping your legs around his body as he wraps his arms around you. The position is so intimate something pangs inside you. Every lap of Ran’s tongue coincides with an inch he’s fucked into you. You’re shaking when you feel his hips bump into your thighs and he’s still not stopped kissing you.

He fucks you there, in short strokes that rubs the head of his cock into your g spot. Kissing you until you can’t breathe and then barely giving you time to catch your breath as he proceeds to tell you about how good you feel. ‘Never felt a pussy like yours angel’, ‘’m never leaving you alone’, ‘’s my pussy now, the best pussy’, ‘tell me it’s mine, tell me it’s my pussy, please’. They’re a mix between a whine and a growl as he begs and grunts and threatens your life and the life of every other man you’ve fucked. It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever encountered and your body agrees. When your orgasm slams into you you have to drag your lips away from Ran to scream. A garbled mix of his name and thanks, as he fucks you through it, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering as he chases his own high.

You’re both weak in the knees by the time Ran pulls out of you. The silence isn’t awkward as you clean each other up. “So my pussy is your huh?” you say later as you’re waiting in the conference hall for Wakasa and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he answers without missing a beat, expression brightening when he catches your smile. “And I really will kill you if you try anything stupid.”

Your smile falls. “What?”

“A bullet right between your eyes,” he holds up finger guns aiming one between your brows. “Pop. Pop,” he chuckles. “I dare you to act dumb.”

You can only swallow around the mounting arousal in your gut because you think you’ve known him long enough to know when he’s bluffing. And based no the slightly crazed look in his eye as Wakasa enters the room you know this is not one of those times.

Palestine has hope. Say it with me. Palestine has hope. Palestine has hope. Shit like this has happened in the past, and there have always been survivors to tell the tale. Palestine has hope. Palestine has hope. It’s true.

do i have permission to write a fic about playboy baji!! absolutely inspired + in love with your idea (☆□☆) !!

Tokyo Revengers Men + Romance Tropes

Pairing: Mikey, Draken, Shinichiro, Kazutora, Baji x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, reunion, kissing, fake/pretend relationship, catching feelings, flirting, confession, protectiveness

A/N: Once again applying some of my favorite tropes to these characters.

MIKEY + DIFFERENT WORLDS

Avoids you so much at first. He likes you a lot, and knows you don't belong in the world of fighting, blood and violence that he's involved him. The last thing he wants is to see you get hurt because he was selfish in his need to be with you. But you can't stay away, the two of you feel a magnetic pull towards each other. Unable to stop you from following him around he vows to be the most supportive and caring man you'll ever meet.

DRAKEN + FAKE RELATIONSHIP

Only with you to get his friends off his back cause they're trying to set him up with so many people. You're one of the few he can stand. It's nice when he kisses you, it's nice when he waits for you to walk together, even if it's complete silence, it's nice when you eat lunch together because he feels like there's some kind of quality time quota he needs to fill. He never thought he would look forward to seeing you as much as he did, every day after class.

SHINICHIRO + REUNION ROMANCE

The two of you haven't seen each other for years after high school. He knows you still remember him as the tough, scary delinquent but he's not that person anymore, he has people to protect, lead and inspire now. You can be one of those people too if you give him a second chance. Regardless he's always happy to see your face when you walk by, he always blushes when you start smalltalk with him, and practically jumps in joy when you ask him on a date.

KAZUTORA + TOUCH HER AND YOU DIE

Has so much overprotective and possessive energy when you're together that no one dares to approach you. His hand is always on your lower back or your hip, not holding your hand, he feels much more in control of the situation that way. Any man who gets flirty with you will have to be ready to throw down with him, especially if they get into your personal space a bit too much for comfort. He is the only one who can do that.

BAJI + PLAYBOY IN LOVE

Heads turn towards him where ever he goes, he has that effect on people but the only eyes he wants on him are yours, just like he only sees you. Didn't start out as a serious relationship, merely a way to relieve stress for the both of you. Over the course of it you noticed he started to spend a lot more time with you as opposed to the other women he would be with. Wanting to make you feel special he started staying over, no sex needed, just your company.

BESTIE IM STILL WAITING FOR CHP 4 OF PERFECT OMG -sanzu's katana

ITS A WIP MY LUV I SWEAR!!!! IM SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE, LIFE GOT IN THE WAY!!! I POSTED AN EXTRA LONG SMUT AS AN APOLOGY POOKIE <3

Haitanis and their eyesight problems.