Music To My Ears

Music to my Ears

SUMMARY: You and Sanzu decide to take a risk and fuck in Mikey’s quarters while he's not there.

Content warnings: pwp, Threesome—f/m/m, Anal sex, Anal fingering, cunnilingus, blowjobs, Multiple orgasms, Orgasm delay, Voyeurism, Praise kink, Light Dom/sub, Biting, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Cum Swallowing

sanzu x f!reader x mikey, sanzu x mikey

a/n: my sanmai brainrot is manifesting now

Your moans are always music to his ears, the perfect song that begins being soft and gentle but quickly turns rambunctious and powerful—straight from pianissimo and right into fortissimo. And even though you both put yourselves in such a dangerous situation that will surely result in unfortunate, if not horrendous, consequences, Sanzu can’t help but want to enjoy the music you breathe into the air.

But he can not. Instead, he quiets you with a hand over your mouth, thumb on one side and four fingers on the other while being careful not to cover your nose. His body is atop yours as he holds himself up with one arm, hips flush while you are on your back.

Sanzu hikes your legs over his shoulders in order to cant your hips upward, giving him better access to the area that makes you sing, and as he shifts his position, bending his knees and moving them closer to you, the angle of his thrusts changes and he starts hitting a spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling back and the lids closing as you keen into his hand.

It was still loud, though—too loud.

“Shh, shh, shh. You don’t want us to get found out, do you?”

Your eyes open to meet his royal blue ones, and you shake your head beneath his grip; he rewards the answer by grinding into you, his groin rubbing against your clit with each roll of his hips, and it forces more noises that are just an octave higher than before to escape you.

“Are you close?” he asks, his voice just barely above a whisper; you nod again. “Rub your clit.”

Your much smaller hand than his own snakes between your bodies, delicate fingers grazing your clit, and just the mere touch makes you gasp. Your hips jerk away like you’d been injured, but you immediately go back for it and starts rubbing quick circles on the swollen bud, your legs soon trembling on his shoulders.

Sanzu starts thrusting again, hitting that spot deep inside you just like before—he must have been, if the way his wife is sounding off beneath him was anything to go by, as well as how your pussy pulses around his cock, threatening to clamp down around him like a vise as you grow closer and closer to your orgasm.

You keen as he pounds into you and he so badly wants to uncover your mouth just to hear the beautiful crescendo you are releasing as you are building up to your climax. But he knows better.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me. Let me feel it,” he breathes, snapping his hips against you one, two, three more times—

The door to the room you both are in opens like the gates of hell, and Sanzu can’t scramble off his wife fast enough, pulling out and uncovering your mouth just as you reach your peak and ungracefully tumble right over it, back arching and a loud moan escaping your chest.

You seem undeterred by the intruder who’d just walked in on your intimate moment and who’d froze at the sight of you fucking in a place they definitely have no business being, and instead you just roll onto your side, close your legs around your hand, and try to catch your breath.

The Bonten figurehead’s eyes flick between you and Sanzu as he stands just inside the doorway, his hand still on the helve as the bulkhead that separates his personal quarters from the rest of the building is wide open. Sanzu can only remain where he is, jaw tense and eyes straight ahead as he stands at attention like the right-hand man he is.

When the door is gradually shut, its eerie creaking and lock clicking both sounds that would surely haunt his sleep for nights to come, he could only watch as Mikey then slowly makes his way across the room and toward his desk while the heavy but steady rhythm of his steps reverberates off the walls and shakes Sanzu to his core.

The Bonten Leader removes his coat and tosses it onto his desk, and it was at that point Sanzu glances back at you, realizing that you, too, is watching, though your face and chest are flushed—but whether that is from embarrassment, your orgasm, or something else, he isn’t sure.

Neither of you knows what to do and you both are sure as hell do not know what Mikey is about to do, but you two remain still, waiting for your punishments.

Sanzu can’t help but wonder if getting thrown off the building—or even just voluntarily jumping off it—will be less painful than silently standing at attention in the room with Mikey, listening to his steps as he moves, while you two wait for disciplinary action. His stomach is twisting and turning in a cocktail of anticipation and anxiety and dread.

Mikey is at the table now and he pulls out the chair that is closest to his desk, takes a seat, then leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. The pose is intimidating and shows his patience has grown thinner.

Then again, Mikey is staring directly at you—at least until those two eyes that are the color of charcoal turns toward Sanzu and locks with his ocean blue hues. Immediately, he looks straight ahead again, his stomach locking up as he suddenly realizes that, yeah, he understands how you are feeling now.

But the room goes silent—awkward—aside from the sound of Sanzu’s heart in his chest and ears that is no longer a steady rhythm but some sort of fucked-up beat he can’t even keep time of. And then Mikey speaks in his familiar, husky voice that always had the pinkette’s stomach doing twists and turns and flips like acrobats.

“Please continue.”

Mikey could have shot Sanzu in the head with a glock at that very moment and he’d still be staring at him in confusion. But both he and you must have been displaying the same facial expression because an annoyed look crosses Mikey’s face as his eyes flicks between the two of you again. He waves his hand a bit from right to left, palm straight up, urging you both to continue with what you are doing.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he reiterates.

“I—” Sanzu begins but cut himself off as he glances back at you. “I don’t—I’m not sure—are you—is this—uh—” He sputters like an idiot, his words unable to gain traction in his mouth and instead his tongue keeps slipping and sliding over like he is attempting to climb a muddy hill in flipflops, and by the time he even finishes stumbling over every attempted sentence, only one clear thing comes out: “boss?”

Mikey’s string of remaining patience snaps and Sanzu feels like it is going to slide down his throat and choke him. “My most loyal dog.”

Mikey’s tone is sharper than the katana Sanzu had accidentally cut himself with when clearing a raider hideout two nights ago—and that thing had really sliced through his hand—but his title is said in a way he hasn’t heard before and it makes him stand up straighter, shoulders square, as he stands at attention in more ways than one.

“Get back on the bed and continue fucking your wife.”

Sanzu’s mouth opens and closes a few times as he glances back at you again, then at the Mikey, then back at you; and he is about to move—

“Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Yes, boss,” the scarred man says, his voice cracking from nervousness, before he quickly climbs back onto the bed. He has gone soft after getting caught, but Mikey’s sharp tone and husky voice has, well, helped give him a bit of a semi, so all he has to do is reach down and start stroking himself a little to get the rest of the way there, and seeing you spread your legs to allow him between you certainly does wonders to speed that along.

Once he is fully hard, Sanzu shifts forward, guiding himself into you, both of you releasing an ensemble of sighs and quiet moans as he hilts inside you. Like before, he grinds himself into you, his groin rubbing against your clit as you release a sharp exhale before your hips rolls along with his, demanding more friction.

Sanzu didn’t grind against you for long, though, and instead hikes your legs over his shoulders again, canting your hips upward, while he increases the tempo of his thrusts, his hips soon slamming against yours roughly.

But the moment you are growing loud again, your voice abruptly jumping a couple octaves rather than gradually increasing, his palm roughly claps over your mouth, muffling your noises.

“Let me hear.” Mikey suddenly interjects.

Sanzu stills and turns his head, eyes locking with the Mikey’s; there is an obvious erection in his suit, but he isn’t touching himself and instead is still in that same position as he watches.

When the scarred man looks back at you, however, that is when he feels your tongue slide against his palm; he crinkles his nose in disgust before pulling his hand away, being met with a grin on your face. You seem to be enjoying yourself, at least, and he’d be a liar if he says it wasn’t exhilarating to have someone—especially Japan’s most fearsome crime lord—watching him and his wife fuck.

As punishment, he snaps his hips against you roughly, coaxing a yelp from you, the sound loud and echoing off the walls in the room, though he doesn’t give you time to recover before he’s fucking you again. He pushes your legs closer to your chest, which allows him to go deeper, and you are mewling beneath him as he slams into you, both of you breathing heavily, and he knows you are both already getting close—

“Rub her clit.”

Immediately, Sanzu sits back on his knees and pulls your ass onto his legs, your own legs leaving his shoulders and instead wrapping around his waist. His thumb finds your clit, hand splaying across your mound as he rubs quick, rough circles on the sensitive bud while he keeps up his thrusts. You are still mewling, your legs trembling around him, and he tries to hold on for you, his eyes tightly closing and his teeth grinding together while he fucks you harder, but he is so close.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he breathes, “I want you to cum with me.”

But Mikey is suddenly beside the bed, his upper body bare. He leans over and locks his lips with yours in a gentle kiss that you seem to have trouble holding while Sanzu never lets up on his rough thrusting. Mikey’s hand slides around your throat and, at the same time, your own hands find his body, one going to his shoulder blade and the other to the back of his neck, nails digging in at exactly where his Bonten insignia is placed.

Finally, you tipover the edge, your walls clenching around your husband’s cock as your nails claw and claw and claw at Mikey’s back, almost breaking open the skin all around his shoulder blades as you go into freefall from your orgasm. The kiss between you two breaks and you scream your husband’s name; and soon enough, your sounds dies down until the only thing escaping you are breathy whimpers from sensitivity—but Sanzu is already flying over the edge with you by that point.

Just before he reaches climax, he releases soft moans that only increases in frequency as he reaches the edge and finally tips over it. His eyes tightly closes again and his hips slam against you once, twice, thrice, before he buries himself to the hilt and comes inside you.

Sanzu’s orgasm crashes over him like sound waves that reverberates through his bones and soon he is holding himself above you, leans to the side on one hand so as to keep his body separated from where Mikey is still close and peppering bites along your jaw as you sigh softly and enjoying the feeling.

The Bonten leader pulls away after a few more moments and Sanzu takes his chance to lean down and kiss you, one hand cupping your jaw as he pulls his hips back just enough to slide his softening cock from you.

“Y/N.”

The kiss breaks and you turn your head to look at your superior, listening for orders.

Mikey is standing near the table—the man is so quiet with everything he does which is not unusual, and as he calls for you, Sanzu doesn’t waste any time pulling away to let you get up.

You saunter over to the crime lord and he reaches out to grab your jaw. Once you are close enough, thumb and fingers digging into your cheeks as he pulls you closer and roughly kisses you while his other arm wraps around you to pull your body tightly against his.

You find yourself returning Mikey’s kiss, and once you are separated, he reaches down and cups your ass, hoisting you up so you have to wrap your legs around his hips before he carries you over to the table and set you on the edge.

Your lips are immediately on his throat, kissing along his jaw just as you always do to your husband, and Sanzu can only watch with interest, his teeth chewing his lower lip. But this is the first time he has ever seen Mikey bare his throat, his head slightly tipping back to give you better access to such a vulnerable area, and Sanzu wonders if he does that for all his whores, knowing they could sink their teeth into his jugular and make his artery spray like a fountain.

But he doesn’t seem worried, and Sanzu knows you well enough to know you’d never do such a thing.

“Your husband takes good care of you, doesn’t he?” Mikey asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“I can tell. How many times did you cum before he did?”

“Three, sir.”

“Mm. Good. Think you can handle more?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you want your husband to watch me fuck you?”

The question catches you off guard and you attempt to look at Sanzu for guidance, but Mikey grabs your jaw again, thumb and fingers digging into your cheeks once more to keep your head forward as he makes you look up at him instead.

“Don’t look at him, look at me. Do you want your husband to watch me fuck you?”

“I—” you start but the answer never comes out.

Sanzu can’t blame you. He knows what you want, and he’d be a liar if he says he doesn’t want to let you get fucked by his beloved boss too—and he’d be an even bigger liar if he says he doesn’t want to get fucked by Mikey himself, as well. But the chances of that happening are slim to none, “Haruchiyo. Do you want to watch me fuck your wife?”

“Yes.” There is no hesitation in Sanzu’s answer.

“Y/N?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” Mikey purrs before he starts pushing his pants and his underwear off, completely baring himself. “Lay on your back.”

It is only then Sanzu took a moment to appreciate the way Mikey looks, taking in the sight of the countless scars that riddles his slim and muscular body like sheet music, singing the tales of a man who lived his life darkness and suffering. Bullet holes and knife wounds litters his torso, some scars are small while others are much larger; atrophic trenches and hypertrophic ridges that decorates his skin, gifts from past battles and traumas that many knew about but few knew the intimate details of.

It is beautiful on its own fucked-up way.

And Sanzu can only admire the younger man as he stands before them like the perfect living example of a marble statue carved centuries and centuries ago.

You are on your back, fingers running through Mikey’s stomach before he kneels down on the floor between your legs, his face disappearing from Sanzu’s view as it is blocked by your thighs.

It is obvious what he is doing as Sanzu had done it plenty of times himself—licking your cunt and tasting you—though the surprising part is how Mikey seems to have no problem eating you out after Sanzu had spilled inside you just a few minutes ago. But you seem to be enjoying it, the hand that had been on Mikey’s stomach is now grasping his silver locks and pulling him closer to your core, directing where you want him.

Mikey had you singing in no time, your back arching and legs trembling as you come, a soft muffle of his groans against you is sounding off in the background of your song, creating harmony together.

He helps you ride your orgasm out and once you are done, he is back on his feet between your thighs. A rough hand runs up your stomach and between your breasts, then back down, before he reaches between you two and starts pushing in; you suck air between your teeth, the sound hissing, and Sanzu finds himself standing and moving closer, his eyes zeroing in on what is happening between your legs—

Fuck.

Mikey is thick. Thick. Probably average in length—but he is definitely thicker than Sanzu; though the pinkette is bit longer. Still, shit.

Mikey eases in and is soon hilted, your song of pain eventually turning into a song of pleasure. Sanzu leans down and kisses you softly, one of his hands going to a breast and groping as he keeps your lips locked, your moans muffled against his mouth and he devours every note.

“Rub her clit,” Mikey orders as he begins to make small test thrusts.

Sanzu breaks the kiss and momentarily glances up at him before reaching over and sliding his fingers between your legs, rubbing fast circles against that swollen bundle of nerves. You are immediately moaning, gradually increasing while your body tenses and your hands grip the edge of the table beneath you just as the Mikey’s thrusts starts to pick up in tempo.

“Good boy, Haruchiyo.”

Alright, he’d be a liar if he says the praise hasn’t sent a wave of arousal throughout his body.

Fuck.

You are quickly falling apart, though, and it doesn’t take long for you to come, and Mikey’s soft groans as he slams his hips against you tells Sanzu that your walls are spasming around his boss’s cock; he knows all too well how fucking good that feels.

“Such a good girl,” Mikey purrs, his hands gripping your hips, thumbs pressing inwards toward your groin; the sound of your hips slapping together from skin-on-skin contact is nearly echoing in the small room. “Perfect fucking fit.”

But Sanzu isn’t prepared for the hand that grasps his chin and yanks him up and to his right, forcing his lips to collide with the leader in a rough kiss; his cheeks are clutched and it forces his mouth to open wider, providing access to an intruding tongue as it searches for his own.

And all the while, Mikey’s hips never falter in their thrusts even as you are cursing and keening and definitely watching your husband make out with the white-haired man above you while, at the same time, that younger man is fucking you. You mutter something along the lines of ‘oh, fuck, that’s so hot,’ and he can’t really disagree.

Sanzu has never been with a man before. That doesn’t mean he isn’t attracted to them, because he is—he considers himself bisexual even though he’s never actually fucked another guy—but holy hell if this isn’t an opportunity. And the assumption earlier that Mikey has no interest whatsoever? Scratch that, because it is clearly wrong.

He has no idea how long he’s been kissing his boss—it feels like forever because he’s been sent into some sort of bliss from just how good it is—but as soon as it breaks, they are both panting and Mikey immediately turns to you, his eyes looking you over for a moment before he glances back to Sanzu.

“Go sit on the bed,” he orders.

Of course, Sanzu obeys and goes to sit on the edge of the mattress, ensuring he is in a good position to keep watching.

It is then, however, that Mikey bends over so his body is flush with yours and you immediately wrap your legs around the Mikey’s hips as he is grinding against you. One of his arms goes to the table, a hand threading into your hair as his face is pressed against the side of yours, and Sanzu can hear Mikey whispering but cannot tell what is being said. His eyebrows furrows as he strains to hear, but he can see you bite your lower lip before looking over at him—the Bonten boss doing the same—and something about the look you two are giving him makes him almost want to blow his load again right then and there.

But he still isn’t hard yet.

Mikey starts kissing your neck and you tip your head back for him as soft moans escapes your lips while your hips are grinding. But when his teeth sink into your throat, right on your pulse point where everyone will see, your soft moans turns into a loud groan that signifies pain mixed with pleasure.

His teeth remains in your neck as he pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, likely only releasing your skin after he is certain there will be a dark bruise left behind. Mikey then drags the flat of his tongue against the spot he’d marked before he stands up straight, grabs your hips, and returns to fucking you hard.

From there, it isn’t long before the white-haired man is on the brink. Sanzu can tell before that where his boss had once kept a steady pace in his rough thrusts, they are now faltering, their tempo losing its rhythm while his breathing has grown heavy and ragged as he pants. You are close as well, with one of your hands between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit while your legs tremble. And before long, you tip over the edge, back arching, screaming Mikey’s name—not his nickname, though, but his first name.

“Manjiro”

“That’s it, pet. There you go—mmfuck, I’m gonna cum.” A low groan is released from deep in Mikey’s chest before he slams his hips against you a few more times and then hilts himself, stilling as he comes.

Inside you.

Mikey comes inside Sanzu’s wife.

And Sanzu isn’t even mad about it—shit, he feels himself growing hard from it, that refractory period finally having dissipated.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and watches as Mikey was grinding his hips against you, his body rolling with each movement before he finally pulls out. When his cock slid free, the noise it makes is wet, likely from the mixture of your cum and both men’s cum—and when Mikey pulls back enough so his cock is in Sanzu’s view, the pinkette can see streaks of white on it.

Mikey’s eyes remains on your cunt, however, even as he suddenly speaks to Sanzu. “Haruchiyo,” he says sharply in that same tone that had helped get Sanzu hard earlier—it is doing the same thing now. “Come here.”

Bonten’s number two is immediately on his feet and approaching, standing at attention as he does and waiting for direction. But as Mikey finally flicks his eyes over to Sanzu, the pinkette have a sudden realization of what he is about to be told to do.

“Clean me off.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Just as quickly as he’s gotten to his feet, he’s also gotten to his knees. He takes Mikey’s semi-hard cock into his hand and slides the head into his mouth, sucking hard, while the the shorter man’s eyes are on him the entire time—and Sanzu can’t help but stare back. He slowly slides more and more in, sucking him clean, tasting the mixture of Mikey’s cum and the tang from his wife on his taste buds. And maybe he intentionally takes a little longer than necessary to clean the cum from his superior’s dick, but he eventually gets the job done and Mikey seems satisfied.

He is brought back to his feet, and his lips are smashed against the other man’s again, that same tongue invading his mouth and immediately being welcomed by his own. When they break apart, however, there is a soft noise from you; they both look over to see you watching with a palm groping your breast, two fingers rubbing your clit, and cum leaking from you. You don’t seem satisfied or sated despite having numerous orgasms, though you should appreciate the fact you don’t have the same sort of refractory period as he do.

Sanzu chews on his bottom lip before looking back to his king as Mikey pulls away, moving to his desk drawer and grabbing something out of it—a bottle of what, he isn’t sure—

Oh. Wait.

Oh, fuck.

Mikey returns to him but before he is able to question anything, their lips crash together again and Sanzu is being led backwards toward the bed. The back of his legs hit the edge of the mattress and he is suddenly pushed by hands against his pectorals until he falls onto the bed on his back.

Mikey is atop him in seconds with his hips slotted between Sanzu’s thighs, their lips brought together again, but it is only a brief kiss this time before the Bonten leader sits back on his knees and that bottle he’s brought is popped open, some of the substance being poured onto the white-haired man’s fingers.

“I’m going to fuck you, Haruchiyo,” Mikey says nonchalantly; it nearly makes Sanzu moan. “Have you ever been fucked in the ass before?”

“Uh, well—” he begins as Mikey gently rolls him onto his side and pushes his top leg up to his chest. “Yeah, I have. With Y/N.”

“Mm. Good.”

That is all the warning Sanzu receives before there is a finger working into him.

It doesn’t take long before he is prepped; Mikey is gentle, of course, and ends up getting three fingers into Sanzu’s ass, spreading him open because, fuck, the man’s cock is thick, and Sanzu isn’t about to be split open. But when he is ready, Mikey apparently have plans for how he wants this to go.

“Y/N.”

You are immediately on your feet—you are always obedient when you choose to be.

“On your back.”

When you lay down, Sanzu is instructed to sit on his knees between your legs like he had earlier; a hand comes from behind him to quickly stroke his cock, thick fingers wrapping around him quite nicely as he is being guided right back into your cunt, a place he knows he belonged. You are still soaked, a combination of your own slick and cum as well as the mixture of his and Mikey’s spend, which just makes it all the better.

A rough hand strokes over his back as Sanzu is hilted inside you. When that husky voice speaks low in his ear, almost a growl, Sanzu’s entire body shivers.

“Fuck her. Hard. I want to hear our cum getting fucked out of her.”

Shit.

Sanzu obeys and pulls his hips back before slamming them forward, repeating the action again and again, his cock pounding into you while he grabs your legs and pushes them upward to where your hips are canted just like before.

But he falters in his movements as two fingers are pushed into his ass, and then he completely stills as those same fingers are crooked downward, body tensing when they press against his prostate, poking and prodding and massaging it.

“Baby,” you whisper, and Sanzu opens his eyes, not even realizing he’d closed them; he moves his hips a little because he knows that is what you want, but that just makes the fingers inside him press more against his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure throughout his entire body.

Those fingers are pulled out, however, and Sanzu releases a sigh before he starts thrusting again, beginning slow before eventually pounding into you once more, making you keen.

Mikey disappears into the bathroom for a few moments, letting you two continue, and Sanzu doesn’t even realize the white-haired man returned until a hand grasps his hip, stilling him, while a rough palm presses between his shoulder blades and gently pushes him forward so his chest is almost flush against yours. The anticipation had his heartbeat increasing in tempo, knowing it is about to change as the bonten leader is preparing himself to fuck Sanzu.

The pressure of Mikey’s cock pushing into his ass nearly knocks the breath out of him. His entire body tenses, his jaw clenches, and he grabs fistfuls of the sheets as he releases a low groan while Mikey slowly works himself in. At the same time, you are stroking along Sanzu’s back soothingly, trying to help and convince him to relax.

“You can take it, Haruchiyo,” Mikey purrs.

Fuck, Sanzu could have cum right then and there because the sound of his beloved king’s voice alone—deep and husky and filled with lust—is just incredible.

Mikey is soon hilted and all Sanzu can do is just lay there, feeling entirely full while his cock is still achingly hard and buried in your tight heat. But Mikey isn’t going to let him stay still for long, and he knows that.

Mikey eventually pulls back a little before his hands are put on Sanzu’s hips, guiding him, making the pinkette move back and forth so he’s thrusting inside you while Mikey’s cock is fucking him with just Sanzu’s own movements.

It is intense and incredible and fuck.

He is already going to lose it soon if this keeps up.

Mikey starts moving Sanzu’s hips faster and he can’t help the breathy moan that escapes him, his face is pressing into your jaw as his breathing is stuttering, his body almost trembling while it threatens to tip over the edge. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

But he is suddenly pulled back, his cock is ripped from your core as a large hand reaches down to his dick, thumb and forefinger wrapping around the base and squeezing much too tight for comfort—and then his urge to cum is just… gone.

“Not yet,” Mikey murmurs in his ear from behind, and Sanzu can only whine.

Strong hips are grinding against his ass, and Mikey’s free hand slides up to his throat, fingers wrapping around the column while the other hand releases his cock and moves to be grasping his hip, holding him still as—

“Ohfuckfuckfuckfuckgodfuck!”

Mikey gives him no warning before he’s pounding into Sanzu, holding the pinkette back against his chest and thrusting fast and rough while the hand on the Sanzu’s throat makes him lean his body back against the shorter man’s. He feels hands on his cock again, stroking, and realizes you’ve leaned up to touch him, rubbing his dick as he’s getting brutally pounded into—you and Mikey both focusing on Sanzu’s pleasure. And it is intense.

But Mikey eventually slows his thrusts to where he is just grinding until he fully leans back on his haunches, pulling Sanzu with him so he is sitting on Mikey’s lap. “You like this?” he asks, his voice low and husky. “You like having my cock in your ass?” Sanzu can only nod as he pants, unable to form any coherent words. “Y/N. Ride him.”

It is an awkward position, sort of. You straddle Sanzu but is at risk of falling backward so his hands are loosely on your hips. You lean forward and kiss Mikey over his shoulder as your hips grind against Sanzu, his cock slowly moving inside you.

You two manage to somehow work in tandem as if you’d practiced—Mikey brutally thrusts upward into him while you bounce on his cock, and Sanzu is just fucking losing it; he isn’t going to be able to hold it. He can’t. It is coming.

He is coming—

His cock slips free from you again and Mikey’s thumb and forefinger are squeezing around his base once more, forcing his orgasm away—Sanzu cries out as he thought he is going to explode.

“Please,” he pants; his eyes are half-lidded while his breathing is shaky, but his pleas are ignored as teeth clamp down on the side of his neck, biting the skin hard enough to bruise. Mikey marking him just like he’d marked you.

Fuck.

After the leader let go, you are on your back again and Mikey shoves Sanzu forward to where he is laying on you like before, your husband’s chest flush with yours and his face buried against your jaw once more.

“Please, baby,” he tries again, begging you this time as if you might be able to do something but knowing you had no control over the situation—Mikey controls everything. He controls you two.

Mikey’s hand is wrapped around his cock and Sanzu releases a whine, but he is guided back into the tight heat of your cunt. “Fuck your wife, Haruchiyo, and I’ll let you cum.”

It is music to his ears.

Shaky forearms are pressed onto the bed as he starts thrusting into you, one of your hands having slipped down to rub your clit in the process, and Mikey immediately begins pounding into Sanzu from behind again. The pinkette barely registers when Mikey’s hand reaches forward and gently wraps around your throat, the other he places on the middle of Sanzu’s back as Mikey is slightly leaned forward when he starts fucking him even harder. His hips clap against Sanzu’s ass, the sound almost deafening as it echoes in the room.

But at this point, Sanzu is gone.

His hips stills as he feels his climax approaching, but he doesn’t even need to move because the force from Mikey’s thrusting is enough to make him pump into you to some extent. And while that may not have been enough for you, it is certainly enough stimulation for your husband. “I’m—I’m gonna cum,” he groans, and he isn’t sure if anyone even heard it because it is said so quietly.

But Mikey does. “Let’s hear it, Haruchiyo. I want you moaning my name—no one else’s. Cum for me.”

Sanzu tips over the edge and his body tenses up as he comes hard inside you. He groans, his crescendo having led up to the moment when he moans out Mikey’s name right against your jaw, feeling your body shiver beneath him at the sound. His hands clench the sheets, and even as he finishes coming, Mikey keeps going, brutally fucking him even as the stimulation becomes overbearing.

You suck in a shaky breath and he feels you tighten around him even though his cock is softening; he can only release a heavy exhale against you when you come, his entire body shuddering as you moan so close to his ear—using Mikey’s given name again just as he assumed you were directed to. But it is a beautiful song, nonetheless.

Mikey’s thrusts are faltering, and Sanzu is thankful for it because everything from the waist down and knees up is starting to pulse and throb and he knows he’ll be sore after all is said and done—but it’ll be worth it.

“Mm, fuck. I’m gonna cum—gonna cum in you, Haru.”

The use of his name had him groaning again and before he knows it, Mikey slams into him one, two, three more times before burying himself to the hilt and coming, filling Sanzu up as he’d promised and the pinkette lays nearly limp on top of you, panting against your jaw.

Mikey leans back onto his knees, releasing your throat though his other palm slowly begins to slide up and down Sanzu’s spine, soothing him and helping him relax, and he feels your fingers threading into his mullet. The stroking along his spine from Mikey only lasted a few seconds, however, before the white-haired man pulls out, coaxing a groan from both men, and then Mikey makes his way over to the bathroom and disappears inside.

“You did so good, baby,” you whisper before kissing his temple. “It sounded like you enjoyed it a lot.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, but he can’t get anything else out. Both his body and brain are utterly exhausted and refused to move or think.

Mikey comes out of the bathroom soon after disappearing, carrying wet rags; he moves to the bed and softly places one of the rags onto Sanzu’s lower back, the touch gentler than the he ever thought possible of someone like Japan’s most fearsome criminal, before the rag is slowly trailed down to clean him up. He is tender and sore, that is for certain, but Mikey is careful in his touches and you are soothing him by petting his head and whispering comforting words.

Once he is cleaned off, he is carefully rolled onto his side and Mikey then goes on to clean you up with the second rag, though Sanzu watches as Mikey leans down and gently presses your lips together. There is something intimate about the way he kisses you—and that same intimacy is present when Mikey had kissed Sanzu, too. He really can’t help but watch even though his eyes are drooping from exhaustion.

Surprisingly, though, Mikey isn’t kicking you two out, and even after Sanzu finds himself dozing, he’d woken up just as the bed dips and he feels his boss settling between him and his wife.

Mikey’s body wraps around your much smaller frame, one of his arms going beneath your neck and wrapping around your chest so his hand rests on your shoulder, and the other arm draping over your stomach—but not until after he reaches behind him and grabs onto Sanzu’s arm, encouraging him to join in on cuddling.

This is a new and probably still dangerous situation, but, hell, it is a good change in his life.

Little Leopard [5]

"If it weren't for seven men that fateful night you wouldn't be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard."

Header Credit: Me

Pairing: OT7 X Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Hybrid! AU, Strangers to Lovers! AU, Rich!BTS, Fluff, Angst, eventual smut, Polyamorous!BTS

Warnings: Angst, Hospitals, discussions of weight, discussions of eating disorders, dissociation, mentions of past mental abuse, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, discussions of trauma, anxiety, depression, explicit language, OC gets a little possessive, self-doubt, NOT SAFE FOR RAMADAN.

Word Count: 4K

PREV | NEXT

Like Seokjin had said the next day after breakfast, he was taking you to the clinic, and to be honest, you were nervous. You hadn’t been to a hybrid clinic and you didn’t know what to expect. You knew that Seokjin wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable and that he’d never hurt you. You had to keep reminding yourself that this was for your own good, he just wanted to know if you were fit and healthy. 

Whilst eating breakfast, Yoongi and Hoseok had told you they were going to tag along so you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable in a new and nerve-wracking environment and so you could have a hand to hold if need be. It made you feel warm inside knowing that they really did care about you. Your thoughts, feelings, your physical being. Everything. It all mattered to them and they always made sure you knew that. 

You knew that Jungkook had told them about your talk last night, they didn’t have to tell you that they knew, you could tell by the way their scents had changed when they saw you come down the stairs this morning. Their usual soft, comforting scents changed to a dull burning bitter smell, the gentle looks of care and worry. But what you appreciated the most was how they didn’t bring it up, they didn’t make you talk about it. They were really allowing you to do things on your own terms. You will never be able to tell them how grateful you are. They were always there to abolish all your negative thoughts and feelings. They’re like umbrellas, when you’re toxic thoughts rain upon you, they shelter you from them and wait with you for the sun to break through the rain clouds not ever leaving you for a second.

“You ready to go, Sweetpea? Yoongi and Jin are waiting for us.” Hoseok says softly peering into your room after he knocked, chuckling seeing you sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, your pastel yellow dress sprawled around you like you had come out of a Disney movie, a little pout on your lips as you look up at Hoseok with a look of defeat and hold out your brush and a scrunchie.

“I can’t do my hair, w-will you help me Hobi? I keep catching my ears and it hurts.” You whine out in exasperation. It was clear to him you had been trying to do it for a while but was clearly being defeated. He couldn’t say no to you. You had him and the rest of the boys wrapped around your finger and you had absolutely no idea.

“Of course, Sweetpea, you gotta be careful of these cute little ears.” Hoseok coos, taking the brush and scrunchie from you and sitting behind you, beginning to brush your hair, frowning at how tense and anxious you were not just from how you sat but from how your tail nervously flicked, poking his leg occasionally. Something was playing on your mind and Hoseok wanted to help you. Out of all the boys, he had spent the least time with you having to constantly be at work all the time.

“Penny for your thoughts, Sunshine?” He asks tenderly beginning to fishtail braid your hair, pausing as you sigh and grab your tail to play with it, something all hybrids did for comfort and it was nice for the boys to see you beginning to lean more into your natural instincts. They had noticed in the first two weeks you lived with them you barely did anything…Leopard like? Feline like? 

It was like you had buried any instinct you had as a leopard. They had begun to think you had been forced to not act on them or perhaps you just didn’t have any but as you began to relax around them the more you showed your feline side and in all honesty, it was the most wholesome thing they had seen. They were curious to see if you would eventually be comfortable in front of them to shift into your full Leopard form. If that was something you could do.

“I just…I’ve never been to a hybrid clinic before…let alone had a health check, no one cared about it. I’m scared. What if something is wrong with me? I w-won’t be left there right o-or you won’t be disgusted with me at my results?” You fret, biting your lip anxiously as Hoseok ties the hair tie into your hair a little sigh leaves his lips before turning you to face him and shaking his head.

“Sweetpea, we will never ever leave you there, or anywhere for that matter. You’re stuck with us, how terrible right?” He jokes making your lips quirk up a little and playfully roll your eyes before relaxing into his touch as he massages at the base of your ear, a rumble coming from your chest.

“None of us will be disgusted at all okay? Whatever the results will be for your health, we’re all gonna be here to do what we can to help it improve if needs be and be here for you through everything alright? I know it sounds scary. A hybrid clinic and tests but you are in completely safe hands. Seokjin won’t make you do anything you don’t want to alright? I hate the doctors too. Needles are pretty terrifying. I used to pass out every time I needed a flu vaccination. Ironic isn’t it? I see all sorts of things being a detective yet the one thing that scares me isn’t weapons, blood, or bodies but a damn needle but in the end, I know it’s to help me. This is to help you.” He smiles, his heart fluttering hearing the laugh you let out hearing his fear of needles. You appreciated his efforts to calm your nerves.

“Okay, thank you, Hoseokie. You guys won’t leave my side?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sunshine.”

—

Despite Hoseok’s reassurance, you couldn’t help but let your fear grow the closer you got to the clinic. You were terrified at what could be revealed. You knew that none of the outcomes of the appointment will be good. You dread to hear the results because you knew what they were going to say.  ‘You’re broken’.

Time was moving too quickly. You blinked you were in the car, you blinked and you were on the highway, you blinked and you were in the city. Before you knew it you stood right in front of the clinic, staring blankly at the sign. Your hands had gotten clammy. Your heart was palpitating. Your mouth going dry. You absolutely did not want to be here. You were petrified. But you just didn’t know how to say no. It was a foreign word to you. A word that was not allowed in your dictionary. A word that if you used would result in punishment. It was another habit you couldn’t break. You couldn’t say no to them. You couldn’t tell them you weren’t ready for this. That this was just too invasive right now.

Yoongi had picked up on your anxiety almost immediately. Noticing how tense and rigid you had gotten. How you froze in your spot like you had your feet glued to the floor. The distant look in your eyes. He knew right there you weren’t really there. You had disconnected from yourself and the world around you. Your defense mechanism. Your fight or flight.

“Y/N? Little Cub you still with us?” Yoongi questions delicately, slipping his hand into yours and squeezing to try and bring you back to reality. Nothing. You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You hadn’t heard him. He began to grow concerned looking at Jin and Hobi for help. He didn’t know what to do but he did know he wasn’t going to pull you into the clinic in this state. He wasn’t going to make this worse for you.

“She’s dissociated Yoongi. We have to ground her, and take her attention off the cause. Give her your keys. They’re cold and something she can fidget with. Cold things bring them out of this state.” Seokjin states, gently stroking your hair as Hobi tries to blow air onto the back of your neck to break your dissociation. Yoongi roots through his pocket before pulling his keys out and placing them in your hand, watching as the distant look begins to slowly disappear.

Seokjin felt guilty. He should have asked you first, he should have made sure you were comfortable with coming to the clinic. He felt like an idiot. He knew you had trauma yet completely forgot to ensure this wasn’t crossing the line for you.

“Sunshine? Are you back with us? We’re right here. It’s okay, take your time. We’re right here.” Hoseok murmurs watching as you blink and look around, breath slightly heavy, a pink hue appearing on your cheeks as you realize what had happened.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I haven’t done that in a while.” You whisper shyly, fiddling with the keys in your hand. You felt so embarrassed and humiliated. You were waiting to hear a laugh, a snicker, anything but nothing. Yoongi just tilts his head and frowns.

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. It happens. This must be overwhelming for you. If this is too much for you, you do not have to go in there. We can take you home and you can try again another day when you feel ready.” He sighs, the two men next to you nodding in agreement but you huff and shake your head, straightening yourself back up.

“No. I-I’ll be okay. I have to do this. We’re here now right? If not now when?” You say before looking at Hoseok and giving him a small smile.

“This is to help me. As long as you don’t leave my side.” You utter. Hoseok smiles and nods, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“Like I said, Sweetpea. We wouldn’t dream of it.”

And with that, you forced your body to enter the clinic, a vice grip on Yoongi’s hand, his grip just as tight. A reassurance. He was going nowhere.

The smells that hit your nose the moment you stepped into the clinic were terrible. They were so pungent. Rancid, you almost felt nauseous. Illnesses. Chemicals. Sadness. And the worst of all. Death. 

It was so distinctive you couldn’t ignore it even if you tried. It was such a strong horrific scent, it could stick to a person for weeks if it weren’t for scent blockers. Something you’re glad Seokjin had you all take before you left the house. 

It was so putrid. It was a mix of rotting fruits and meat but at the same time, it was chemical-like. Like nail polish remover or ammonia. You had to hold back a gag. If Seokjin was a hybrid you would have asked him how he could put up with it all the time, hours on end.

“You okay Cub?” Yoongi asks as you both follow Seokjin to an examination room, almost chuckling at the scrunched-up look of disgust on your face. He would have laughed but he knew what you were smelling. He had been told about it by a Hybrid friend of his. He felt bad that your heightened sense of smell could be a curse sometimes.

“It smells bad. I really don’t want to sound rude I know people here are sick or you know but it’s so horrid. I could really do with no sense of smell right now. It’s a little nauseating.” You grimace. Hoseok chuckles and nods in agreement,

“I know what you’re on about. I can’t smell it like you can right now but I’ve been around enough bodies to know what kind of smell you’re getting. It’s grim.”

Your conversation is cut off as you enter a room and you tense up seeing a new person. You hadn’t expected to have to interact with anyone else. You thought it would just be Jin doing your tests. It did not help this doctor was not human. She was a hybrid too. Another cat species. Putting two big cats in one room, a lioness, and leopardess at that. It was a bold move.

“Seokjin! Good to see you! I was surprised when you contacted me to health check when you can do it yourself and probably better than me at that! Yoongi, Hoseok it’s been a while.” She grins giving Seokjin a hug then Yoongi and Hoseok. You stare at her almost in annoyance, holding back a growl but an instinct you couldn’t prevent was your hackles going up. Your tail began to bush up and your ears pinned back. You felt irritated by her presence. By her touching them. 

But as quick as it happened it was quick to disappear when you realize how you reacted. You were surprised. Why did you react like that? It wasn’t like they belonged to you. They weren’t your mates. You stop an audible gasp. They couldn’t be, right? But the longer you thought about it the more you realize some of the behaviors you had around them. All seven of them. The way you had to fight the urge to scent them, to nip at where their scent glands would be if they were hybrids. The way you wanted to build a big nest and drag every single one of them into it. At first, you just thought it was because they looked after you. Cared about you, but now it felt like a jigsaw puzzle was being completed. It all made sense now. They were your mates. 

Your racing thoughts were broken when Jin chuckles and gives her a sheepish smile. “I would do the tests but for legal reasons, I cannot. She lives with us. It’d be workplace misconduct. This is Y/N, she’s been living with us for a few weeks now.” 

“Nice to meet you Y/N I’m Dr.Yoon. I’m going to be doing your examination okay? Don’t worry it won’t take long.” She says, grabbing her clipboard as you nod hesitantly, your voice felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. You just followed her instructions with much hesitance. She took your weight, your height, and asked your age and other questions but her next requests made your heart drop.

“Okay, we have to take a blood sample and have a look at your cervix etcetera.” 

You turn to look at the boys in fear and Yoongi immediately grabs your hand again and shakes his head. He can’t imagine how much trauma this was bringing back.

“Look at me, look at us. We’re right here Y/N. Right here. It’s okay. It’ll be all over before you know it I promise and then we can go home. You’re safe.” He says sternly as she begins to take your blood sample, keeping you facing him to stop you from looking. Even looking straight in your eyes as she examined your cervix and pelvis, his eyes not straying once, rubbing soothing circles on your hand as Hoseok murmured reassurances and Jin keeps back not wanting to crowd you, and the guilt he felt stopped him from coming near.

 He should have made you aware that this appointment was your choice. That you didn’t have to come here today. He could see you slipping into depression, how you would slightly dissociate before stopping yourself, how you hadn’t uttered a word since entering the room. He shouldn’t have assumed you were okay with this.

“Okay we’re all done here Y/N, your blood results should be back in the next week or so. You can take a minute before leaving. Dr. Kim, Hoseok. Can we step outside? We should talk.” She says lips pursed, nodding her head towards the door. She noticed how you progressively became more of an empty shell. She didn’t want to make you worse with what she had to say.

“Gentlemen. I don’t even know where to begin. This girl has suffered so much. More than I think you guys thought. Her weight is dangerously low for her age and height. Malnourished. She’s way too small, especially for an Amur Leopard. How is her appetite now she lives with you?” She begins a solemn look on her face as Hoseok and Seokjin look at each other before looking back at her.

“Not great now that you mention it. A few mouthfuls that’s it.” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms as she nods and shakes her head. It wasn’t a good sign. Not at all.

“She may have developed an eating disorder, you have to keep a close eye on that. It may be from a diet change or from a change in general but if it doesn’t get better then definitely take formal action. She will get sick. There are many signs of physical and mental abuse. The girl is traumatized. Physically and mentally. Seeing a psychiatrist could really benefit her. I watched each of her reactions, she was terrified, especially when I said I need to take a blood sample and do a vaginal examination. I could smell her terror. When checking her cervix I could see evidence of past sexual assault. Scarring, slight irritation you name it but other than that healthy. I saw nothing that will prevent a heat other than her weight but we will have to wait for the bloods to come back to know for certain. She may not get one for a while. I’ll let you know when I have the results for her bloods but help her, get her through this, and most importantly, Hoseok, find the sons of bitches that did this to her.”

“I plan on it.”

—

Once you got home you were quickly swept up by the youngest two boys who had gotten home having been warned by Seokjin that you weren’t very verbal or doing great mentally. They were at the ready to cheer you up and look after you even going as far as reading what could help a distressed hybrid and discovering a nest could provide comfort, watching tutorials, and rushing to find things to put in it. It wasn’t the best-built nest but it was the thought that counts.

When you were placed in the nest you visibly relaxed, you already felt comforted, safe, and cozy but it felt like something was missing and from your realization earlier you knew what it was. The boys. Your leopard was antsy, practically screaming at you ‘Mates, mates, need mates in nest.’ You didn’t feel ready to fully embrace it yet. It was too much to comprehend. That you had mates. Not just one, but seven. It was daunting. But right now, you were willing to indulge your leopard. Just this once. But how wrong you were. Once they were to enter the nest, you may just get into the habit of wanting them in it constantly. Yeah, you were screwed.

“In. Want in.” You murmur beginning to move around and fix the nest, making it bigger to fit more people in, a pout of concentration on your face. Jungkook and Taehyung’s hearts skip a beat. You look so adorable fixing it and demanding them to get in. They felt a feeling of achievement getting to see you make your first nest, watching you cave to your instincts. But their hearts were pounding. They knew how intimate being invited into a nest was. They knew what it meant after all the videos they watched on nests, giving each other a look. They all needed to talk but right now, they couldn’t deny you. You had them wrapped around your finger.

“You’re inviting us in, Sweet Girl?” Jungkook asks softly, cooing as you look up at him with wide innocent eyes and nod. You were going to be the death of him. With slight hesitation they both climb in and sandwich you between them, allowing you to move them to where you wanted them before you finally snuggle into them, Jungkook chest to chest, your head tucked into the crook of his neck as Taehyung spoons you, rubbing soothingly up your waist, a smile playing at his lips as you begin to purr. You really were beginning to live up to your leopard counterpart now.

“We heard you aren’t doing too good huh Kitten?” Taehyung coos. You huff and shake your head, lifting your head to look at him and pout before looking at Jungkook and whispering,

“Scent? Y/N scent you?” 

He almost chokes on his saliva but nods slowly, eyes widening when you don’t hesitate to nuzzle back into his neck and begin to rub your nose on his neck and nip occasionally, shallow breaths leaving his mouth, frozen in shock before glaring at the amused look on Taehyung’s face. 

‘Stop it. You’d freak out too.’ Jungkook mouths reaching over and flicking Taehyung on the forehead. However, the sudden movement made you whine in protest and he immediately goes back into the position he was in and pouts.

“I’m sorry baby, didn’t mean to upset you, I won’t move again without telling you okay?” He says softly chuckling as you hum in acknowledgment before sighing in contentment, losing your eyes to try and get rid of the thoughts in your head. Despite it only being noon, you were exhausted. The appointment and examination had sucked the life out of you and brought back so many memories and doubts you were trying so hard to bury and forget.

You didn’t feel worthy enough of their affection and care. You felt like you didn’t deserve them. That you weren’t good enough. It felt like you were being selfish and asking for too much to have them in your nest. A whimper leaves your lips, gripping Jungkooks’ t-shirt tight to rid yourself of the thoughts, trying to concentrate on his and Taehyungs’ scents in hopes to ground yourself, squeezing your eyes shut tight as the horrifying voice echoes in your head.

‘You are worthless piece of shit!’

‘You deserve nothing bitch!’

‘What a waste of space and air, why do I even bother keeping you.’

All the abusive words echo through your head on a constant repeat, flashes of the punishments and vile acts you were put through won’t leave, a strangled cry leaving your mouth from frustration and hurt making the boys fuss over you, panicked. You just wanted it to stop. For all the anguish and pain to be erased, to just be happy. Really truthfully happily. There was only so much forcing it you could take. 

“Make it stop. TaeTae, Koo, please make it stop. It hurts. Hurts.”

Safe. Safe. I’m safe. You repeat in your head trying to convince yourself, relaxing into their caring touches, finally succumbing to the sleep you were so desperately fighting, the appointment, the crying, the thoughts completely exhausting you.

“Shh Kitten, we’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay, we’re gonna get you through this, you’re safe, nothing can hurt you anymore, this will go, I promise, you’re safe, you’re safe here. Sleep, you need some sleep, we’re not going anywhere.” Taehyung says so delicately afraid that your fragile state would break from the slightest change of tone. He felt like a fool.

For not realizing how much you were really struggling. At how much you were really hiding. How much you had internalized it to hide it from them. He was a fool to that you were going to heal quickly. All the care, safety and love they gave you could only do so much. You had suffered for years. You have had more anguish, pain, abuse than anything. He promised to do better. Too do everything in his power to heal you. Supporting you.

When the boys know you’re asleep they look at each other sadly, wondering what they should do to make this torturous recovery easier for you, wondering what they do knowing what they know now about being invited into a nest but a voice from the door breaks their stares.

“Is she oka- Oh shit.”

Taglist (CLOSED)

@sunoosult @pb-n-juju @kimsaerom @tinyoonsblog @mintyoonjisworld @malewife-supremacy @army4eve3r @mageprincess7 @dreamamubarak @ot7nem @haleypearce @yoongiigolden @driftapart @carolinexkpop @koobratzy @devilsadvcte @colourlyhobbit @toughbook @ah2002 @beeeee06 @bbgniecyy @kurowvie @jaiuneamesolitaiire @rich-man-v @bangtanxberm @murkydoesnotloveyou @cheychey-4788 @atinygracie @echo-ethe @yo-alli @blancflms @jamlessstars @theblueslytherin @rosquilleta @slash4slashers @chieftoadturkeynickel @rainbow-bunny-bts @thedarkwinterrose @anjoellamorte @welcometomyworld13 @sugarrush-blush @aviewerofthecosmos @danielle143 @singukieee @ayoo-bangtan @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @popcatx0 @foreverweareyoung7 @josefines-things @avadakadabra93 @shmaptainbonky

Lone Wolf: Master list

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Genre: a/b/o, omegaverse, angst, hurt/comfort

Pairings: ot7 x reader

No schedule for my sanity. I'm just trying to enjoy writing again.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED

Series warnings: bigotry, including internalized bigotry, negative self-talk, neglect, childhood trauma, mentions of SA

A/n: This story will deal with a lot of internalized negativity about and struggles with society. The plot will contain many events and concepts that have numerous analogies to our own society and multiple interpretations are possible. I certainly have my own ideas, but the only agenda I intend to push is one of self-acceptance and love. I'm open to respectful discourse in the comments. Please keep in mind that I and others are very sensitive and if you want to be mean then be mean somewhere else.

Teaser

Homo sapiens lykos (lore explanations)

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Taglist: @ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows

Permanent taglist: @halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @crish-mac @kazufuyusluv @dis-tru6tion @hey-itsmina @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lxvelyjiminie @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @shadowyjellyfishfest @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini

finally! ❤️

Going Home: Chapter 3

Yandere Platonic Toman + Time Leaper Darling

Masterlist

‎

Going Home: Chapter 1 | 2

Thank you all for your patience! Sorry I've been a bit quieter than usual, been working on this chapter as and when I have the time, super excited and relief to finally get this out there! Enjoy! :) p.s. it’s pretty late, editing tomorrow, thanks for understanding!

Catching Kazutora’s fist with a quick flash of his own arm, the already bulging vein on Draken’s forehead that had been throbbing for the better half of a day looked like it was on the verge of finally popping. “Hey, hey! Knock it off already!” It was a line he had repeated countless numbers of times today alone, yet the words didn’t seem to sink into the other with black-and-yellow hair, those unblinking eyes fixated on a head of lilac hair on the other end of the picnic bench, though Kazutora reluctantly retreated back to his assigned corner under the tired glare, away from a weary Mtisuya.

“And don’t you even think about it,” Draken snapped without even turning, and Mikey reluctantly sank back down into his seat, tightly clenched fists disappearing under the sun-bleached wood of a school bench. Despite the gloomy mood that hung heavy over the Toman boys back home and unknowingly separated from you by twelve long years, the weather seemed to disagree with their somber thoughts; the sun was bright yet the air was cool, a breeze rustling the leaves of overhead trees with the occasional joyful ray of light breaking through a generous canopy and onto miserable faces. A beautiful day by all accords for an absolutely horrible, worst-case situation.

Letting out a wretched sigh, the usually stoic Vice President dragged one hand down his face, the other clutching a comparatively small phone. He understood, he really did - after all he was as much trapped in the same unenviable situation as the rest of his fellow founders. Exhausted, anxious, an insatiable boiling rage in his gut, and the need to beat anyone and anything that stood in his path.

You were gone. Vanished without a trace in the middle of the day from outside your school in the single half-hour they weren’t by your side. There was little doubt that like him, the rest were still beating themselves up a day later over wasting precious time, having decided to wait for you outside the gates by their bikes instead of rushing straight in to look for you. After all, it was uncommon for you to run even a minute late from your classes; you never liked to keep your boys waiting for longer than necessary. And with Mitsuya having been the last to have seen you before your disappearance, walking you back and dropping you off at your classroom right after lunch, it was obvious that everyone’s initial suspicion would have been pinned directly on his other Twin Dragon no matter how ridiculous that idea sounded to Draken.

Because where else could you possibly have gone?

There surely was no stone in Shibuya that the panicked Toman founders had left unturned in their day and night comb of the city, yet they failed to find even a whiff of your presence. No school bag, no shoes, things that you usually had on your person had vanished along with you - it was as if you had simply vanished from the face of the earth, yet your house was undisturbed without a single item missing or out of place, nor did any of very vigilant your neighbors see you enter or leave. A kidnapping? A rival gang that had perhaps seen you with them one too many times, and decided to whisk you away as a hostage? Maybe a random street grab-and-run? Unlikely, given none of your schoolmates reported seeing any suspicious vehicles around the time of your disappearance (under the threat of a very painful death that is) and Toman had yet to receive any demands - Draken scratched that off his mental list.

Or worse, did you somehow find out about what your precious friends had been up to behind your back and decided to run away? It was a constant unspoken fear among the Toman founders, that you would decide one day to leave and never come back should you ever find out what they had been doing behind your back. But it was just another struck from the list; no chance that they wouldn't have known the moment you found out, given you always wore your heart on your sleeve.

So what did that leave? The blond-haired boy, a steadfast and strong presence that the Tokyo Manji Gang rallied around, barely knew where to go from here. Yet no matter how much his mind and heart yearned to get out and help with the search, his body was still weak and recovering from his near-death incident just a week prior: handling Kazutora and Mikey already took whatever strength he had left. Even if it was Draken who did manage to find you, he would imagine you wouldn’t be too happy to see him already out and about - all he had left was his brain.

The warm sunlight that bathed their skin felt more like a scornful, satirical imitation of your hug, the crowds thronging Tokyo City uncaring of their plight.

How did everything go wrong so quickly? It was supposed to be all uphill from here - Takemitchy had saved his life and been rewarded with Mikey’s first ever Toman uniform, and you, despite trying to save him yourself had thankfully walked away with a small but heartbreaking wound and scar on your hand; a clear reminder of their failure to protect you from their dark world.

Dropping back into his seat at the table, Draken set his uninspiringly quiet phone down with a thud. “Any new ideas?”

‎

And apparently that was the wrong question to ask, and the taut tension finally exploded, the wooden bench groaning and shuddering under Kazutora’s open palms as the duo-colored haired delinquent slammed both hands down, jumping to his feet. The words that spilled off his lips, combined with that unblinking stare, were toxic enough to kill. “I know it’s fucking you, isn’t it Mitsuya. You’re hiding her!”

A straight, unflinching accusation, one that said boy, no matter how level-headed, wasn’t going to take lying down. “Huh?! Are you dumb?” A vein on Mitsuya’s forehead began to bulge as he tried and failed to swallow the boiling anger. “I walked her all the way back to class! Why would I be here if I knew where she was?!”

“You said she needed more space, let her attend class in peace,” Kazutora spat back, though the tinge of desperation that underlied his tone and those dreadfully dark eyebags was abundantly clear. “We wouldn’t be in this position if we didn’t.”

If they didn’t let you run off and do whatever you wanted, unspoken words that all of them, both present around the bench and away searching, knew and carried in their heavy hearts. No one could shake the guilt.

And then a different voice speaking up had Draken’s gut sinking further. “How do we know its not you, Kazutora?” Questioned Mikey, unblinking eyes staring down said boy, who spun round to face the Toman President.

“Me?!”

The gang was falling apart without you, and the Toman Vice President could only wonder how long more they could last. He hoped you were at least safe and dry wherever you were.

‎

‎

Separated from the woes of your delinquent friends by simple time, you were far from free from your own problems.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Not any more. I’m fine, Mikey, really. See?” you sighed out, running your bandaged hand through his crown of white hair, the other resting on the handle of an oil strainer, the gentle sound of food sizzling the only sound to be heard amidst this otherwise lifeless stainless steel environment that formed the ginormous kitchen you found yourself in. Your friend seemed less than inclined to believe you though, arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he leaned into your chest, careful to avoid brushing against your neck.

“But it did just now,” he mumbled back into your clothes, and you couldn't deny that - you could still feel those hands clamping around your throat, quavering dilated eyes squeezing down with the intent to kill.

It had been a good hour since the doctor had left after being immediately summoned from the infirmary to Mikey’s room to carefully and professionally assess your injuries under the watchful eyes of the white-haired man. An ointment for the ugly blue and purple bruising that littered your neck and a tight bandage wrap for your wound that was torn in the scuffle, and you were given the green light to resume regular activities, whatever that meant in light of what had just happened. Knowing Mikey, you would be lucky to ever be left alone anytime in the next week, let alone ever again. You hadn’t forgotten the look of utter fear that had washed over your friend’s face, the way he raced through winding hallways with you bundled in his arms, as if you were already on death’s door and tempted to cross the threshold. Because how could you? There wasn’t a single instance you remember ever seeing such a raw emotion pass Mikey’s face in all your time spent with your Toman friends, and you weren’t keen on seeing it again.

Yet all you had taken away from the whole incident were more and more questions; questions whose answers you knew would maybe start to solve the mystery of where you were and what had happened, yet questions you had no doubt would, at best, break Mikey’s heart if you asked. What to do indeed? Mentally shaking yourself out from the neverending spiral of thoughts, you turned your thoughts back to the present. Though, your lips twitching upwards, the irony of the other’s insistence at your apparently debilitating injury at the moment wasn’t lost on you - he hadn’t so much as mentioned the possibility of your bandages getting dirty when you were battering the chicken parts just a few minutes ago. “So I suppose I should stop frying and get some rest then?”

A noise that sounded like a cross between a snort and a whimper, and those abyss eyes instantly whipped up to meet yours. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out at the absolutely pathetic pout he had on his face, his grip on your shirt tightening further. “I didn’t say that!” he protested. “Take that back!”

“Yes, yes,” You rolled your eyes, that familiar indulgent smile spreading across your face. Despite everything, he was still your Mikey. “I was kidding, Mikey.”

But your wince at the flare of pain as you turned to press a kiss to the top of Mikey’s forehead, as much as you tried to hide it, wasn’t missed, the man gently guiding your head to face forward once more, childish whine fading into a quiet concerned mutter. “Don’t turn if it hurts.”

The kitchen fell back into a comfortable silence, you humming that old croony love song under your breath as you reverted your attention to your cooking, nudging Mikey back slightly when his hand got a little too close for comfort as you shook the oil off the crisp chicken pieces, settling them down top of a tray you had found in one of countless drawers. Steel surfaces marred with scratches and dulled from wear and tear told their own stories of the days spent toiling away here by unknown souls. You weren’t sure when those clingy arms had released you long enough for the white-haired man to wander back with plates, but the clinging of porcelain together as you rescued the last lonely karaage from the boiling sea of oil told you everything you needed to - you were certain your friend would demand payment for his “help” in the form of attention and cuddles later on.

Though there was not much time to think about that now either, not when you barely had enough to pick up your precious tray before Mikey started to insistently tug at your sleeve, leading you a surprisingly short distance through two doorways which opened up into a relatively homely-looking dining room. Decked out in simple but nonetheless exquisite walnut-wood furniture and a rug that reminded you of your own room back home, it was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the upper floors the two of you had descended from, the plain walls home to a single mirror and the round dining table a vase of flowers. “Sit here,” he insisted, and you obliged, dropping into the cushioned seat, to which Mikey immediately attempted to climb into your lap.

“Mikey!” Letting out an oof as your entire vision was suddenly filled with nothing but the black shirt your friend seemed to always wear, you swore you heard the chair underneath you groan with the weight of two. “Too heavy!”

A rustle and several mild thuds later, the pressure on your thighs was somewhat alleviated, with the white-haired man finally settling down, opting to sit only on your lap while resting his legs across both yours and the neighboring chairs’ armrests. To any other pair of discerning eyes, it would look almost as if you were cradling him, like a mother would their child, and you certainly were to an extent - but to you, it was very much just business as usual.

Just Mikey being the needy friend you remember from yesterday morning albeit looking a bit different. Even down to him now prying your fingers open to force a spoon into your grip, you knew it was your dear friend behind this facade of white hair and gaunt hands.

‎

But, your mind whispered against your heart’s protest, was that all that was different? Was the man in your lap truly the Mikey you thought you knew?

Even as you absentmindedly spooned a chunk of fried chicken into the awaiting mouth of the former Toman President, your thoughts couldn’t help but wander back towards that incident just a few hours prior, and even with your valiant attempts to ward them off, barricade them away, your brain remained firmly stuck. You simply had to know what happened - your own memory drawing a blank from the time between Sanzu suddenly attacking you and finding yourself clutched in Mikey’s arms, corridors whirling past your shaky, blurred vision. It was just for your peace of mind, you tried to reassure yourself as you plucked up your courage; you swore you wouldn’t change anything about how you thought about your friend no matter what you learnt.

"Mikey, about Sanzu- '' You hesitated as that carefree smile was instantly wiped from his face as he turned to face you fully, any sense of playfulness the other had drained away in a heartbeat.

Despite his eyes being empty like they always were, they were a blank slate to anyone but you, the growing anger behind the facade of uncaringness was as clear as a lit neon sign in the midst of a winter night, a 180 from the carefree friend just a second earlier before you opened your mouth. The room temperature plummeted with those narrowing eyes, the quiet whirl of cold air from above only adding to the sudden chill of the room. “I told you to go straight to my room and not to talk to anybody. You disobeyed me.”

There was something about the way those words spilled out that frightened you - you had never been scared of any of your friends before, never Mikey - but there was no other way to explain how you felt in that moment, though you didn’t quite understand why. Maybe it was that icy look of lingering contempt for that poor pink-haired man, or maybe it was how menacing his aura had become, an almost overwhelming, radiating sensation of power.

But this time, against your mind screaming to roll over and give in, you pressed on. Mikey wasn’t going to hurt you. "What happened Mikey? I don’t remember much."

“He deserves it.” The hiss of words that came out were unlike anything you have heard spill from his lips, the way the usually hidden shadows crept up onto his face to accentuate that hard look only making the other seem more a stranger than anyone you knew. “How dare he lay his filthy hands on you.”

You’ve always known how overprotective your friends were, but this seemed extreme - had they always been this way? Or was this new, and you were actually in the future? Were your friends hiding something from you? Forcing yourself to squash down the questions that kept bubbling up, you instead focused your attention on the most recent events; if you asked all that ate away at your heart, you were sure you and Mikey would be all night, and you weren’t going to last that long in this cold that started to bite away at your bones. And the one question that you simply had to ask despite your sinking gut telling you that you probably wouldn’t like the answer: that echoing sound of gunfire that you could hear at the edge of consciousness after which Sanzu was wrenched off you, was that real or just your imagination? “Isn’t he your friend? D-did you shoot him?”

Unable to stop the shiver that seemed to shake your entire body before you got your answer, the empty spoon you had been holding fell back onto the porcelain with a clink as you instinctively rubbed both hands against your arms, and the white-haired man paused. The spell over the room broke, the tension lifting as quickly as it had weighed down on your shoulders. “I did what I needed to.” His answer came almost gently though with a sense of finality, one bony hand reaching out to ever so delicately grasp your hand even as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his other hand comfortingly rubbing circles into your back. “I’ll do anything to protect you.”

You believed him. Mikey did scare you for that few minutes, you wouldn’t lie to yourself, and you wouldn’t be getting any more answers, but you still believed him. That didn’t mean you agree with what he did of course, but you had promised yourself you wouldn’t treat such a dear friend any differently no matter what you learnt. Letting out a sigh, the warmth of the room slowly returned much like the rising of the sun after a frigid winter night, and you shuffled yourself slightly in an attempt to get comfortable while still balancing Mikey’s weight on your lap. Time for a change of topic, and you wondered out loud the first thought that came to mind. “Where’s Ken-chin and the others?” You hummed, reaching round the sulking man to spoon another lump of chicken and rice.

“Don’t wanna talk about that,” came his muttered answer, and your heart sank - there was just too much you didn’t know, and ignorance was proving not to be very blissful. Yet you didn’t push that either, not after such an intense day for both you and Mikey, though fortunately that seemed to bring other more acceptable ideas to his mind, and the man pulled away to look you up and down. “You need clothes.”

You blinked. “Clothes?” You still had clean clothes from your home.

“New clothes,” he declared, pulling the spoon to his face and chomping down, before continuing to speak with a mouth full of food. “We’ll have a party next week, I’ll introduce you to everyone, so let’s go shopping later.”

That same indulgent smile emerged once more, you letting out a laugh as you dabbed away from Mikey’s round cheeks the morsels of rice that made it out. “Alright Mikey. Chew and swallow first, okay?”

‎

Once the last morsels of food had disappeared into Mikey’s mouth and you had left the empty plate atop the dining table with much reluctance at his insistence, you were once more led down those same neverending corridors, delicate unbandaged hand held ever so gently in the other’s. On a good note you mused, glancing around your luxurious surroundings, you were at least beginning to recognise the few corridors you were walked down: the corridor that Mikey’s room was along, the large white-and-blue porcelain vase that denoted where you should turn for the bathroom, and the next corridor over the one that the two of you had walked towards the kitchens.

The hallways that stretched and winded away beyond your view, hiding in its unknown depths the allure of adventure and unmade friends, was tempting to say the least, but no matter your urge to wander and explore, you knew Mikey would never let you; and alas you were right, the man leading you straight back to the worn wooden door. With a promise of a short thirty minute wait for him to make a few calls and have everything set out before your little outing, there would usually be no reason for you to disagree. But this time there was somewhere you wanted to be, somewhere you needed to be to settle the guilt eating away at your heart with those precious few minutes of potential freedom.

“I feel bad, Mikey. I wanna apologize,” you protested right at the threshold of the room, with Mikey hovering right in front of you and taking quick glances up and down the corridor, anxious to get you inside. “Sanzu got hurt because of me.”

The other stayed resolute in his decision though, as you knew he would even in light of the very strong pout on your face. He never was really that weak to your puppy eyes like you were to theirs, you supposed, lightly touching the bag of extra karaage in your pocket you had snuck aside to give to Sanzu. “No. You stay here.”

“But Mikey-”

“He’s dangerous,” came the blunt answer, his grip around you tightening ever so slightly as he tugged insistingly at your sleeve, trying to guide you into the permanently darkened room. “And resting. No.”

You sighed, allowing yourself to be ushered into his room; there was no way you were going to win this fight. “Alright, alright.” Guess you'll just have to eat the karaage yourself.

“Thirty minutes, max.” Mikey swore, his hand on the doorknob with the door halfway closed. “I’ll be done in thirty. Just need to sort some things out.”

A click of the lock, and you found yourself once more alone, swallowed into the shadows. The minutes went by slowly, one second crawling by after another. After repeatedly sitting and standing up from the bed in an attempt to think of something to do, you were finally bored enough to explore the little area, though that didn't help alleviate your boredom much. Mikey’s room was sparse. There was no other way to put it nicely, you grimaced, pushing the near-empty drawer back into its slot, before closing the wardrobe door behind you with a soft thud where the wood met. Even with the little light that seeped in under the door, it was obvious that your friend had few belongings, and even fewer if you didn't count clothes.

It broke your heart. Plain walls with no windows, few things to call his own, and this miserable, constant darkness. Sure this wasn't the Mikey you knew, but it was still Mikey. What had he been going through?

Flopping back onto the bed, you let out a breath. You knew your 'return' had brought him a semblance of relief, but you couldn't stay here forever. You didn’t belong here - and you were sure your Toman friends were waiting for you back home. Was there anything more you could do to ease the pain he carried? Closing your eyes, the darkness behind your eyelids wasn't too different from the room's.

And without a sound or another word, you vanished.

‎ ‎

‎ ‎

Across the city and tucked away in a quieter neighborhood, the same sun that was all but hidden from you behind the labyrinth of walls that made up Bonten’s headquarters shone prominently through open windows, though the fresh minds that the new day brought after a good night’s sleep didn’t quite seem to help ease the conundrum that the two men pouring over a whiteboard were stuck in.

“But what makes you think the other time leaper is her?” The former delinquent mumbled, letting out a sigh as he straightened for a quick stretch, his joints rusty from the week-long lack of movement after his latest lap in the past. “It could be anyone - maybe even Kisaki.”

“Yes, I get that, but she’s the most reasonable explanation here,” Naoto retorted, turning away from the picture of your smiling face staring back at him from the whiteboard. “The bounty appeared the day you said she disappeared.”

“Are you sure? It could be that you just missed the bounty previously. You mentioned that your memories weren’t changed like the last time I timeleaped?”

It seemed almost impossible to comprehend, the detective understood: the mere idea that there were not one, but two time leapers who could both individually change the future, it was hard to swallow to say the least. But it was the reality that they had to contend with and work around, and the faster Takemichi could bring his mind around to that, the faster they could start solving this mystery and change his sister’s future. Fortunately for the already irate Naoto, the annoyance that was starting to show clearly enough on his face that the other was quick to back down from his claims, Takemichi throwing up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, so let’s go forward with the assumption that the other time leaper is her. Nothing’s changed since Draken’s - Ken Ryuguji’s - death was prevented, but do you think he is alive now?”

A lightbulb went off behind Naoto’s eyes, and he rocketed from his seat, the former delinquent almost toppling off his seat at the sudden movement. “Wait.”

“Wait?”

“Could her time leaping be overriding yours? There’s been no major change in my memories since you met her at that fight, not even after you stopped Ryuguji’s death. Only the bounty that appeared after her disappearance from the past.”

Naoto’s living room fell silent as both men contemplated the latest theory. It was plausible, more than plausible even, given how much the fate of Toman in the past was tied into you, and now, how the future failed to shift even with another life saved. More and more, it seemed you were somehow tied into this entire mess, but how was the real question?

Takemichi let out a groan, ruffling his hair. This was hard, too hard even. “I don’t suppose we know if she’s here right?”

“I ran her name through the system, still only school records from 12 years ago,” the detective grimaced. “But if her time leaping works anything like yours, then she should be present somewhere.”

“And nothing on Mikey or Bonten yet?”

“Still no sighting of the boss, so we can’t be sure.”

“How bout Draken? He could still be alive.”

Phone clicking open, Naoto allowed himself to drop back into his seat. At this point, they had nothing else to go on, so any starting point is better than none. “Let me see what we have on Draken first - if you can write down some of the other Tokyo Manji founders’ full names, I’ll try to pull their records too.”

‎

‎

12 years separate from Takemichi’s woes, the only thing on Sanzu’s mind was just how hot and humid the evening was, much like the previous evening, the heavy wind that plowed down the empty street only bringing more heat rather than the relief Sanzu craved. Running one hand through the sticky mop of drenched pink hair in an attempt to give relief to his sweat-covered forehead, this delinquent had zero doubts that the past two hours alone was already a lot more miserable than the entire yesterday combined, not even taking into consideration what had gone down before the sun sank beneath the horizon.

This part of town was predictably quiet at this time of the day - cars rested beside empty sidewalks, the chatter of voices and light thuds and clinks of people drifting down to where Sanzu walked the streets below, the sound of the occasional furious scribble of students rushing work lost in the background hum of the neighborhood, audible only to whatever gods they were muttering to. Stalking down the road that ran past your school gates, a single glance of the flawless nameplate, sparkling in the light of the sinking sun, was enough to push his bad mood over the edge.

“Fuck! Fucking bitch!” A black clad leg swung out, and its hapless victim, an innocent, empty garbage can that went rattling down the road, the clanking of metal against concrete cutting through the night. It was you, the boy fumed. This whole mess was entirely your fault. You had vanished into thin air, a fact that Sanzu would ordinarily celebrate given all the problems you brought for him if it didn’t only proceed to make his life harder. You were the one that forced him to waste his entire day on the hunt for you, all in a vain effort to ease Mikey’s suffering. And when Sanzu predictably turned up with nothing, neither were you there to see the pain you were putting Mikey through, let alone soothe his anger away. And after you stole his best friend away from him - well, former best friend. Small fact, didn’t matter. You were still undoubtedly the root cause of all this trouble - he’s no doubt heard about the growing divide between Kazutora and the rest of the founders - so why couldn’t his king, his whole world and purpose, just forget about you and move on?

A loud growl broke the Fifth Division Vice Captain’s spiralling thoughts, and one hand moved to clutch at his empty stomach. With the sun low on the horizon and the night looming in the distance, waiting impatiently for its turn to rule the sky, of course dinner was going to be completely burnt though, and Sanzu didn’t think he had enough money on him for some supper before bed. Definitely your fucking fault as well. Grumbling about stupid and unappreciative friends as he turned a corner, your quiet school block quickly disappearing behind the wall of yet another generic apartment complex, the delinquent paused for a quick break on his seemingly endless quest, letting out as a sigh as he leaned against a brick wall, pulling his mask down for a breather where no one would see him hidden away from the tired aura of nearby streetlamps.

Why did he bother? And truly, why did he? Looking up at the clouded sky, Sanzu could only wonder. It wasn’t the first time this particular train of thoughts had popped up - several times, in fact, over the course of the past two days. Right from the start when he got the call that you had gone missing from outside your school, and that all of Toman had been mobilized to search for you, he had always wondered why he should.

Weighing the pros and cons, sure it would bring Mikey peace and joy if you were returned safe and unharmed to his awaiting arms, and Sanzu was sure he would be at the receiving end of that gratitude and thanks from all of the Toman founders alike. Maybe he would even get the chance to know you better without the threat of being beaten to death, obtain the rare opportunity to witness and learn firsthand how you got his king wrapped around your glass fingers. But at the end of the day, it would only benefit both him and Mikey in the long run should you have vanished for good, Sanzu knew - the Toman boss would be free to walk his dark destined path with you no longer there to distract or weigh him down, and there would only be the loyal Sanzu by his side to aide him.

What to do indeed. Well he did suppose if anything untold happens, he could always just kill you. All for the sake of Mikey, of course, but that was if anything untold happened. Maybe you’ll just never show up.

‎

Resolved to give up the search and hit the sack if nothing turned up within the next five minutes, it was only then that the slightest flash of gold and purple caught the corner of Sanzu’s eye, and the pink-haired boy had to take a second glance.

No fucking way. This had to be the tenth time he himself had scoured these few roads, let alone taking into account the countless times the Toman founders had searched the vicinity of your school from roof to ground. How was it possible this had been missed? Seemingly carelessly tossed at the foot of one of many brick walls that made up Tokyo City was your iconic purple charm, gifted to you by Mikey and the rest of the Toman founders. There was no one in the entirety of the gang who would fail to recognize the onomori that usually hangs by your school skirt’s belt hoop or from the zipper of your bag, a clear indication of the eyes that watched over you and whose shadows you were living under. So what was it doing here, lying forgotten in the dirt? And how has no one found it till him?

The few rays of evening light that still danced across the apartments above mocked his turbulent thoughts: would he land himself in even more trouble if he picked it up or not? Alas all Sanzu had was questions, with answers nowhere to be found. Damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. Finally settling on picking it up first and praying for forgiveness later - it would be more criminal to let something that met so much to his king lie any longer in the dirt, Sanzu decided - he reached for the charm.

As his fingertips brushed the sacred purple cloth, a sudden gall picked up, rushing down the street with enough force to slam windows and rattle doors, even almost managing to bowl over the bent-over delinquent had he not quickly righted himself.

And as quickly as the wind had started, it was gone like the last evening light upon sundown, the world falling back into a stillness that felt out-of-place. Unusually still, right till a single breath had him shooting back up at full alert, onomori now clutched in hand - he swore he had been completely alone.

You blinked back at him, frozen as if a doe caught in headlights, crunchy, transparent bag of karaage in hand rustling away with the wind.

His jaw dropped as your gazes met, his made-up mind sent reeling again.

What the actual fuck? Was - was that really you? Or just your ghost sent to haunt him from the great beyond?

One heartbeat, two heartbeats; no one spoke, and the two of you simply stared down each other, Sanzu puzzling out if this was real life or just a dream and you doing…something. You were real alright, the boy determined, a very real physical body that cast a shadow, who had two feet firmly on the ground. But where did you come from? How did you suddenly appear out of nowhere? Were you hiding from Mikey or were you on the run? Yet for reasons beyond him, you seemed more perplexed at seemingly seeing him in one piece than he was at meeting you after you appeared from nowhere. “Sanzu-san? Is that - you’re okay?”

Was- was he okay? What?

“What do you mean?” The words seemed to blurt out before the usually unflappable Toman Fifth Division Vice Captain could bring his brain around. What happened? Why would he not be okay? As if his answering set off an epiphany, a lightbulb went off behind your eyes, those doe eyes sparkling to life as you alternated looking back down at your quickly cooling karaage and Sanzu - you must have the answers that he wanted, at least some of them.

You chose to bite your tongue and keep your secrets. “Here, take this.” Instead, with a single step forward, you closed the gap between the two of you, quickly thrusting the plastic into his free hand, a small, almost sad smile breaking out onto your face. “I’m sorry for what happened.”

The small motion, though careful, was enough to knock the onomori from his other hand, the delinquent’s eyes following its path through the air as it descended once more towards the ground, but you didn’t seem to notice as you backed off and away. And when he looked back up, you had vanished once more without another word, evaporating into the chilly wind that took your place as mysteriously as you had appeared. The sun had finally given up its place as ruler of the sky, the darkness of the night enveloping the sky as it sank below the horizon, the last rays of daylight swallowed by the stars.

If he wasn’t still clutching on to the bag of karaage, he would have written the entire incident off as a hallucination and been on his way. But now, Sanzu mused as he once more bent down to carefully pick up the charm with a handkerchief, tucking it away into his pocket, now he would have to consider what to do next. No doubt that this charm was somehow linked to your disappearance and subsequent reappearance, and the boy noted to be extra careful with accidentally coming into contact with it again - the last thing he wanted was to accidentally trigger you appearing again. So should he turn over your charm to Mikey and tell his king everything? Or should he just keep this to himself, keep his head down and go along pretending?

Absentmindedly, the delinquent picked out a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth. Bad move, because he had no words to describe how fucking delicious it was, the karaage though lukewarm still exploding into a homely, lovely flavour that warmed his belly - was this what the Toman founders had to enjoy every day? No wonder Mikey’s pissed that you’re gone.

Maybe it would be better to have you back.

‎

‎

Rather unluckily for Sanzu’s sudden change of heart, where you had vanished to wasn't anywhere that the delinquent could follow across 12 years of time. Arriving just five minutes before the white door was pulled back open, you were rather surprised to find that the sun had already set when you finally had the chance to step out from behind those intimidating glass doors of the equally intimidating building you called home for the past few days. Having had no window to look out from or clock to tell the time ever since you had met this version of Mikey, you had long lost track of the passage of time - how many days had it been since you’ve had the opportunity to take a breath of fresh air?

Maybe you should have asked the Fifth Division Vice Captain when you had the chance, but then again, you didn’t want to get him into any more trouble for speaking with you.

An arm snaked around yours to clasp your freezing hand in his, shaking you from your thoughts. “You okay?” Mikey mumbled, pulling you closer to him, forehead pinched as he scanned your face.

“I’m fine Mikey,” You hummed, glancing around as discreetly as you can under the other’s watchful eye. “Just thinking.”

The white-haired man said nothing, instead leaning his head against you. Needless to say, seeing how Mikey had reacted around you over the course of the past few fours, you had decided to keep your little excursion a secret from your friend. There was no longer any doubt in your mind that you had, against all logic and reason, time traveled - this must be somewhere in the future, though you weren’t sure how many years had passed.

But in that case, why did Mikey mention finding you? Was there no future you?

All you had were more and more questions.

The foyer of the skyscraper Mikey called home was completely empty save for the two of you, the high wall that ran around the entire compound blocking any sight of the outside world - an unusual choice given what you knew of Mikey, but things had probably changed. A car rumbled across the gravel from an entrance unseen, pulling to a stop in front of the otherwise empty foyer. Even as you were bundled into the car, the one thing that struck you was just how quiet the world around you always seemed. You couldn’t see the driver either, with the partition between the front and back of the spacious car up. Except for the two “friends” of Mikey you had met plus Sanzu (you weren’t sure if he and Mikey were still friends), the building seemed lifeless. Unoccupied. It wasn’t possible of course: there was no way such an enormous place could be kept as spotless or such a feast could be whipped up without an equally enormous staff. Maybe they were just ninjas, really good at hiding.

Lit signs and digital screens flashed by, and your mind was drawn away, and you clambered up to look out of the tinted windows in fascination, though Mikey’s arm tight around your waist remained. The city had changed in the unknown time that had passed, and you couldn’t say you recognised the Tokyo that was whizzing past you - there was an almost dreamlike feel and ambience to it, the area had changed too much - yet it was still undoubtedly the same Tokyo you had grown up in.

Barely noticing that the car slowly rolling to a crawl, the tug at your sleeve came as a surprise to you as it pulled up next to a sidewalk in a neighborhood you noted as a more prestigious part of the city - you don’t think you had ever dared venture here by yourself. “We’re here.”

“Here?”

But you were no longer as alone as you thought you were, the car door swinging open to reveal a mass of bodies forming a semicircle around the entrance. The silver of light that slipped through broad shoulders was just barely enough for you to get a peep of the surroundings before the group started moving as clockwork. Huddled as close to Mikey as physically possible, you tried your best to keep your gaze down and focused on your friend, away from the intimidating gazes of the heavily armed bodyguards that surrounded the two of you. A stark reminder that no matter how Mikey behaved and acted around you, the Mikey that strolled down the street, shoulders relaxed with one arm around you, the same one that had shot Sanzu without a second thought, was but a complete stranger to you.

The single row of double-storied shops with flawless floor-to-ceiling windows all bore names you could barely read, let alone pronounce, the interiors lit and gleaming against the setting sun in the distance. Handbags, sunglasses, clothes of every color and variety displayed proudly to the world, a siren’s call to those who sought the status they brought and a mockery to those who barely got by.

“Mikey.” A new voice cut across the rumble of the city, and your ears perked up. This wasn’t someone you met before. Gaze swinging up as the herd of bodyguards parted to reveal a man in a red and gold outfit, his white side-swept hair tossing lightly in the wind as his single gold-linked glimmered in the dim overhead light of the streetlamp.

"Koko." Mikey acknowledged, and you noted that his grip on you slightly tightened. The other had an air of confidence he carried that you supposed your protective friend didn’t quite like. But even if the newly named Koko noticed, he didn't mention it, cat-like gaze kept firmly trained on Mikey with nay a single glance in your direction.

“Store’s cleared and secured, had a chat with them earlier.”

No more words were exchanged, or rather no more needed to, with Koko sauntering off while Mikey moved forward with you, and you caught a quick side glimpse of the man. You don’t remember him from Toman either, much like the case with Ran. The two of you stopped in front of one of many storefronts, a few paces away from where Koko had just been, the polished wooden front door already neatly propped open. “Come on, I wanna start with the party dresses,” Mikey mumbled into your ear, close enough that his hot breath tickled your skin, though he quickly pulled back to stare at the ring of suited men that still surrounded you.

That seemed to be a cue, and no one followed you as you were tugged into the shop. Yet right on the threshold of the shop, you thought you heard what sounded like the click of a shutter from behind and you hesitated- it was hard to mistake the sound for anything else even from a distance, given the void of people along the rest of the stretch of road - but when you turned to look, there was no one and nothing to be seen.

“What’s wrong?”

You turned back. “Nothing.”

‎

A crystal chandelier. There was an entire chandelier in the shop, hanging from ludicrously high ceilings framed by two floors of intricate railings as you gawked at the sparkling teardrops that refracted rainbow rays of light. Well to be fair, you didn’t know what to expect - it was the first time you had ever stepped into a shop so fancy, but this was a next level of fancy. Marble tiles expertly shone lined the floor of the shop, with tasteful picks of carpet that broke the montony; vases of fresh flowers resting atop simple side tables that helped accentuate their beauty, with smaller chandeliers that hung through the rest of the shops.

But Mikey was hardly impressed with the selection, the white-haired man too busy tearing through the racks of clothes with a silent, polite attendant by his side, occasionally pulling out various articles that seemed to be made of ghostly goasmer, the fabric puffing up at the lightest breathe, looking over the piece with a critical eye and than back at you. When he amassed a satisfactory number, the attendant was quick to hurry the dresses into a private changing room that you swore was as big as your own room back home, before vanishing from sight, leaving just the two of you.

“There’s no price tag-” you swallowed anxiously, taking another glance round the store, your delicate hand gripping the parting curtain. How much did any of this cost? Should you even be holding this?

Your friend didn’t seem to have the same concerns, his facade shattering as he reverted back into the clingy, needy, baby boy you knew as Mikey as he flung himself on you. “I like this one,” he whined, pulling those puppy eyes on you as his fingers pulled at one of several dresses hanging from velvet hangers, revealing white fabric. “Try this first.”

“I-“ You hesitated, but as Mikey’s lips started to pull downwards, you found yourself caving once more to his request. “Okay, okay.”

A bright beam replaced the white-haired man's frown in an instant. “And show me when you’ve put it on.” He insisted, pushing you lightly into the dressing room.

‎‎

‎‎

Waking into absolute darkness was not anything out of the ordinary for Sanzu, not after twelve years as Mikey’s loyal right arm and not much lesser as Bonten’s executor; didn’t matter if it was dark because he had blacked out in a questionable location where no light reached after too hard a binge on his favorite cocktail mix of drugs, or simply a lack of sight from not being able to physically open his eyes, he had done it all before. Countless times in fact. At least he wasn’t dead yet. But this time, the Bonten second-in-command noted as he tried and failed to lift an arm, this time was different. For one, everything hurts like an absolute bitch: his right leg was throbbing. The tell-tale sharp pain that shot up muscle and resonated in his thigh like a heavy gong was replicated in his chest, an incessant agony that stopped him falling back into the comfortable nothingness he awoke from - this was no doubt from gun wounds. He had been shot it seemed, though when and how would remain a mystery for now.

And for two, this awful stench: the putrid smell of heavily bleached floors that overwhelmed his nose, the odor permeating his throat with every breath he was forced to take. He had long forgotten when he had last been able to smell anything so strongly, and of all the things he could be taking a whiff of, that he rather be taking a whiff of: coffee, tea, or what of sweet, sweet orange candy? But noooo, it had to be this wretched stinkfest. There was no smell that Sanzu hated more than the overwhelming scent of supposed cleanliness and hygiene, yet here he was for no lack of trying. His arms and legs as if weighed down with lead. Where exactly was this? And what was he doing here?

Nothing made sense to his abnormally clear yet throbbing head.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat spat out.” Make that three things that were different.

“Fuck you Haitani, I feel like I was hit by a bus,” Sanzu groaned out hoarsely, throwing a limp hand over his face in a vain attempt to block out the burning overhead lights which end with him slapping himself. He ignored the burst of muffled giggles from the side. “Need some fucking painkillers.”

“Doc says none for you,” another voice drawled out, right on the tail of his older brother as usual. Ah, so both Ran and Rindo were here. Fucking Haitani bastards. “Something about mixing drugs and dying.”

Eyes popping open at the denial of much-needed medication, it was in that moment that the pink-haired man finally recognised the god-forsaken Bonten infirmary that he had awoken in, the sole room he absolutely despised yet the only medical facility he hadn’t been kicked from and banned for life. Another shot of pain rocketed up his leg, a mocking reminder of his lack of drugs, to which Sanzu could only bite down the pain, closing his eyes once more in the hopes that the darkness would help soothe some away (it didn’t). Fuck him indeed. What happened?

He seemed to have said that last part out loud, seeing that Ran answered; the last he checked, neither Ran nor Rindo could mindread just yet, though knowing those bastards, it might be a matter of time. "We heard you fucked up."

Rindo continued. “Attacked Mikey’s little friend, nearly killed her. The boss didn’t seem too pleased to find you with your hands around her neck.”

“So he shot you,” finished Ran, somehow sounding even more smug than usual, an incredible feat in itself.

Words that individually made sense now strung into a sentence didn’t seem to add up at all; what were they talking about? What friend? Why would his king shoot him? “Are yall fucking with me?”

“Why would we? Kakucho told us everything.”

The mention of Bonten’s third-in-command was enough to open the floodgates of memories that had been suppressed by a combination of the trauma of getting shot and his wild day-long drug binge, those green eyes flying back open as your curious face hovering over him instantly flashed across the front of his mind. Scrambling to force his tortured body up into a sitting position, the movement almost sent the pink-haired man over the side of the infirmary bed, his gaze spinning and his head light. “It’s her?” His words came out as more of a croak, blown gaze sweeping the room to land on the silent black-haired man who he finally noticed, sitting in the corner busy flipping through a book - had he been present at the scene? Not that Sanzu remembered. "Did you see her?" He demanded.

The uncomfortably clean room fell silent, as if Kakucho was contemplating what to reply. The pistol very visibly resting in the other’s lap didn't phase Sanzu in the slightest; he knew why it was there, deducing that it was most likely a direct order from the boss to keep Sanzu from leaving, but he was still the second-in-command. Mikey's right hand. Any command he gave that didn't override his king's was to be obeyed. The pause before the other's response was short, and the reply was as simple and straightforward as Kakucho himself was. "It's her."

Ran nodded along. "Kind of a runt, highschool kid. Never expected her to be so small." Seems like the purple-haired man had his own little run-in.

"Watch your tongue," Sanzu snapped back automatically, though his mind was in a mess elsewhere. He had expected it, but Kakucho's answer still somehow threw him into a binder, the pink-haired man slumping back down to the bed. You. You were back like a ghost to haunt him. To haunt Mikey. To ruin their lives once more, like you did all those years ago. Why couldn't he get rid of you, put you to rest like an exorcist spirit? What did you want? But despite his initial surge of anxiety and anger at the mere idea of having to deal with you and all the problems you brought, he couldn’t quite grasp what exactly had pushed him over the edge.

You were no longer just the big, bad enemy that Sanzu had to get rid of to keep Mikey on his destined path. You were that feeling of a warm hug, of home. If he strained his fraying memory to the edge, the pink-haired man was sure he could still bring up a memory of a kindness that no one had shown him before you - a bag of hot, crispy karaage. A homely taste that warmed his belly on a bad day like nothing he had never experienced previously. His head felt…messed with? “Am I crazy?” He muttered to himself, before raising his voice enough for the others to hear. “I feel like my memories…changed?”

Apparently this was enough to pique Kakucho’s interest, as per the creak of his chair as he leaned forward. “In what sense?”

“Like - I changed the way I felt about her. New memories that I don’t remember having-” Sanzu shook himself out of the daze. No. He couldn't let himself get distracted - bribed - so easily. You were still the enemy, the largest obstacle he needed to clear from his king's life, crispy, home fried karaage or no. “Just me?”

Ran hummed, while Rindo scoffed and spoke up. “Just you,” he confirmed. “Probably the drugs.”

Sanzu tsked. It wasn’t the drugs, but he wasn’t going to get anything more than that from those bastard brothers. “Where’s Mikey?”

“Should be back in his room asleep.” The younger Haitani popped out the lollipop he had been sucking on, waving it casually in the air as he spoke, though the clear taunting smirk plastered across Rindo’s face said everything Sanzu needed to know. Back in his room?

“Wouldn’t you like to know~” Ran sang.

‎

‎

Returning from the dangerous, dirty outdoors (or so your needy friend said) with an entire fresh new wardrobe was a good enough excuse for Mikey to insist on you taking another shower, and you saw no reason to disagree. The sun had already fully given way to the night sky when you finally left the shop and its exceedingly helpful attendants, though there were no stars to be seen from behind the heavily tinted window on your ride back to the gated compound. You were, funnily enough, thankful to be finally away from so many pairs of curious eyes no matter how discreet they were and despite how lonely you had been before; being at the center of any kind of attention was draining, but Mikey didn’t seem the slightest bit affected. But of course he wouldn’t. He led a biker gang.

Mikey didn’t let you see your new belongings being rung up, let alone the final total cost of the haul, though that didn’t stop you from having an inkling at the minimum number of zeroes that must have been attached to the end of the tab, an amount you had no hope of repaying ever. You did notice the other white-haired man - Koko, you recalled - had re-entered the store just ast you slid into the car; perhaps he was the one handling the payment? And if he was, well, you could only hope that he wouldn’t be too angry at the damage, even if Mikey had assured you that it was alright. The shopping from the trip had been neatly packed away, filling up some of the many empty wardrobes that lined the walls of the bedroom, save for the single mind-bogglingly expensive white party dress and accompanying shoes that Mikey had talked you into, which hung prominently from the back of his bedroom door.

You had to admit that the dress was perfect in every sense, almost like it was tailored for you: it hugged your body in just the right places, the fabric just heavy enough to not lift with a strong gust yet light enough that your fingers could drag through without resistance. Mikey was right, and you did like it a lot, even if you did initially think that it looked rather much like a wedding dress as opposed to one for a part; and you had to admit that you started looking forward to that party next week much more, should you still be here.

But now, even with Mikey fast asleep cuddled up in your arms just like the previous nights, you couldn’t quite fall asleep just yet, your mind preoccupied with the small, dimly lit screen of your phone. You had found it when your white-haired friend was out for his own shower, tucked away in one hidden corner of the room amidst the rest of the belongings you had arrived with in the future: school bag, umbrella, shoes and all. To your surprise, the network symbol held strong when you flipped it open for the first time in days, and you had no issues connecting back onto the same carrier you had used despite it having been an unknown number of years. Had Mikey also been maintaining this all this time?

Yet it was Baji’s number that stared back at you from the phone, his contact still seemingly active. Your finger hovered over the send button, a sudden sense of doubt settling on the base of your gut. What if- what if you were wrong? What if the number had already been transferred and you were just bothering them? Or worse, what if it was your number was the one that had been transferred and was instead the number of some criminal? And you got Baji in trouble?

The simple words dancing in the backlight of your screen now looked a lot more menacing than before. Maybe you shouldn’t, that nagging voice in the back of your head whispered, and your thumb shifted to hover on the tantalizing ‘delete’ button.

But then again, you reasoned, pushing that voice away as best you could, you would never find out if you didn’t send it. Perhaps you should include the name of your intended addressee, so all it would take would be a glance for the number’s new owner to know if it was a mistaken message - yes, you should do that indeed. What was the worst that could happen anyway, you consoled yourself, nimble fingers flying over the keypad; at most you will get a ‘wrong number’ or no response at all.

You squinted, looking over the screen again. Hi! Is this Baji Keisuke? This is - And there the cursor hovered as you reconsidered your decision. Mikey shifted in your arms with a whine, threatening to wake up and stir up a fuss if you didn’t choose soon. Finally mustering up the courage to add your name to the end, you hit send before you could regret your decision, shutting your phone with a distinctive click.

Quickly shelving the small phone back onto the empty side table, you made yourself comfortable, shifting slightly to bundle Mikey better in your arms and make sure that you didn’t wake with a dead arm once more; the night was already late, and you weren’t going to get an answer within the next few hours. No matter if Baji was still a delinquent, even he would be fast asleep by now.

‎

‎

Three long, miserable days and two nights it had been since any of them had last seen hide or hair of you, and the cold war twelve years in the past raged on at full steam, threatening to escalate into a full civil war with every passing hour. The divide between Mikey and Kazutora was only spreading to the rest of the gang, complete with rumors whirling about Kazutora looking to split and start a rival gang. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility the other four Toman founders had to admit, despite them failing to take a side yet - you really were the glue that held Toman together, and as much as Draken and Baji tried to reason with the two stubborn boys, there would come a time that they would have to turn against Kazutora, as much as that would break them, if you didn’t return soon.

The world for once seemed to sympathize with the poor mortals that inhabited the earth below it, overcast skies rumbling and mourning your absence. Everything just seemed that much desolate without you. But it was under an uneasy truce that the feuding boys met along the small side street near your school from which you vanished; Kauztora and Mikey all but staring the other down with unblinking empty eyes that held promises of pain and death, though their attention was quickly drawn away with the appearance of a masked, calculative Sanzu. Even before Mikey could demand what his former childhood bestfriend wanted, why Kazutora could question why he had summon them here at this godforsaken hour, the rustle of a plastic bag being pulled from the front pocket of his black Toman uniform pants. The sight of the onomori from the creation of the Tokyo Manji gang, the charm they had gifted to you to bless them with your constant presence, your bloodied charm; swinging innocently inside the plastic bag. “I found this just along the sidewalk here,” Sanzu explained to the jaw-dropped yet deadly silent founders, those pairs of predatory eyes all bearing down on him. “Yesterday night.”

If he hadn’t added those last two words, the Fifth Division Vice Captain was sure his head would already made an acquaintance with the ground. Or maybe he would have been dead. Maybe both even, given those glares sent forth by the two warring parties that stabbed at him.

One heartbeat, then two, and when Sanzu blinked - the bag was gone from his hand, wrestled away by Mikey, though the blond-haired boy wasn’t alone.

“You again,” hissed Kazutora, his fingers equally dug into the bag in an attempt to take your charm for himself. “You’re still trying to keep her for yourself.”

“And I could say the same for you,” Mikey retorted, eyes narrowing dangerously as his grip tightened. This was all they had of you, and this traitor wanted to keep it for himself? Unacceptable.

It was the plastic that gave way first under the might of both delinquents, tearing along the stressed middle, the onomori starting its journey towards the ground. All Mitsuya had the time to shout was “charm!”, and both pair of fingers moved to catch, brushing the purple cloth in an instant.

A sudden strong gust of wind almost rocketed all seven boys off their feet, rushing down the small side street as if a divine hurricane sent forth by an angered god. And only Sanzu instantly understood when from thin air you appeared, standing and blinking groggily at the herd of your stunned friends, wearing a set of evidently expensive silk pajamas that no one recognised. But you seemed a lot less surprised than them, stretching your arms above your head and letting slip a yawn before you began to speak. "Guys, I think I might have gone to the future," you mumbled.

‎

‎

As the sun rose on the quiet Bonten headquarters, long after Ran, Rindo and Kakucho have left Sanzu to his thoughts alone in the infirmary, it was the anguished scream echoing down the corridors that wretched Bonten’s second-in-command from his uneasy rest. But he wasn’t alone, by the sounds of pounding footsteps that rushed down the corridor in the direction of Executive’s Row. In all the years they, the Bonten executives, had faithfully followed Mikey, the man had never once shown weakness, blank empty eyes always silently observing horrendous crimes committed in his name; yet there was no doubt. The furious, grieving, desperate cry, there was no mistaking who it came from, or what had happened. You had once more vanished from Mikey’s arms.

‎

Across a now bustling town, black-haired man stumbled out of bed despite the sun having long hung in the sky, smashing snooze on his way; those sleepy yellow eyes all but missing the new message that flashed across the lock screen of his new smartphone. And a few blocks away, Takemichi and Naoto stood determined outside a motorcycle shop, the shutters raised yet the interior still darkened.

“This is Draken’s shop?” Takemichi questioned once more, and Naoto confirmed. He had checked and double checked, and all the records pointed here. Given Ken Ryuguji was the only Toman founder outside of Sano Manjiro that Takemichi knew the full name off, and that he was alive in this time line, perhaps the former Toman Vice Captain would be able to shed some light on the twelve years that had passed - surely having been so close to you in the past, he would have kept his ear to the ground for any news on you or Mikey.

Takemichi took a deep breath, hand reaching for the door bell. “Then let’s do this.”

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝑺-𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Hwajin seem to be unbothered whenever you go to work wearing sexy dresses. Hell, he had seen one sexier than this, but in his defense, that’s because you were going to work, it’s all just business, but everything changes when you try to go to a club at like two in the morning.

𝑵-𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I'm alive guys..that's it. Hopefully this can make up for being absent for a very long time...

𝑾-𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | A lot of sexy shit. Was to lazy to write warnings sooo.

You spun around in front of the mirror in your room, glancing over your shoulder to check on the back of the dress. You’ve put on a black slit dress, satin silk wrapped around your body, showing a good shape of your curve.

Tonight is not actually your work hour at Shangri-La, but you’re going anyway, just to destress your mind for a moment. A few drinks with your fellow stripper friends, and maybe you could hook up with some rich, hot older men.

By the time you’re done with the light make up, you heard someone inserting code to the apartment’s door. Your assumption is Hwajin, since your younger brother is fast asleep at two in the morning in his room.

Long story short, he shared his apartment with you and your younger brother out of Kangseok’s order for the sake of your safety and the arrangement of your Pops, not that he complained.

The sexual tension between Hwajin and you have always been so obvious but neither of you willing to act upon it. Considering the both of you have a little struggle with your pasts, him with his dead fiance, and you with your dead older brother that’s annoyingly quite similar to him.

Grabbing your purse, you leave your own room, ready to go. And you find him walking into the bathroom, with nothing but only a gray jogger; you swear you could see sweats running down his broad back; decorated with various scars, not to mention that he put his hair in a man bun.

You unconsciously gulped down before clearing your throat, walking closer to the bathroom’s door watching him where he drank a mineral water, some of it spilled down across his neck, adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

Blood rushed to your heart watching the tantalizing view.

“You went to the gym at two in the morning?” You raised a brow with a teasing tone. “Who does that?”

He’s not answering you until he finishes a bottle and throws it off to the trash can, only then he confirms, “I do.”

You snorted at his confident tone, “Weirdo.”

“Says the one eating ice cream with a fuck ton of sugar.” He mused, lifting the corner of his lips. He focuses on preparing a razor blade, to shave his stubble.

“At least I don’t need to disciplined a fuck ton of pikachus.” Refuse to back down, you snap back at him.

“At least I don’t need to fuck around with a bunch of old geezers.” He snickered with the same energy.

You pondered, “I sensed jealousy.”

He scoffed, finally looked up from his razor and met your gaze. Another witty remark is on the tip of his tongue, but his eyes decide to take a look at you, making him freeze in the process.

The dress. The fucking black, thin, satin dress. Wrapped perfectly on your curves, the slit on the left side showing your smooth thigh, breast pushed up, red lips and red eyes shone with alluring aura.

Blood rushed to his heart watching the tantalizing view.

Hwajin raised a brow when he finally met with your eyes again, he wondered, “Last time I checked, today’s not your workday.”

“Who said I was going to work?” You tilted your head, crossing your hands on your chest.

“You’re going to the club at two in the morning? When everyone’s going home?” He sneered, charcoal eyes flickered. “Who does that?”

You snorted through your nose, pointing at yourself, “This crazy bitch does. Shangri-La never sleeps.”

Hwajin turned to face you fully, his whole body now perfectly on your display, as he sauntered towards you at the bathroom’s door, his broad and tall figure looming over you in a second.

“No, you don’t.” He stated, warm breath fanning your forehead.

A scowl immediately appeared on your face as you heard his demanding voice, you looked up at him and argued, “Yes I do, I’m going. I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“And I won’t let you go anywhere, not like this,” He eyed you up and down, “Go change, and you may go.”

“What are you, my dad?”

“I could be. Because you live under my roof, by my rules.”

“What rules? Me submitting to your possessive ass?”

“If that’s what you get from my statement, then so be it.”

More scoff coming from you, eyes peering over his charcoal ones, with disbelief, “You’re being unbelievably unreasonable.”

Hwajin seem to be unbothered whenever you go to work wearing sexy dresses. Hell, he had seen one sexier than this, but in his defense, that’s because you were going to work, it’s all just business.

But now is different, you’re actually just going to the club. That’s enough to make him a bit unsettled with your decision.

“I am being unreasonable because?” Hwajin tilted his head, challenging you.

“It’s only your nature,” You gaze up at him with your only last gut, despite fear start to gather inside your mind, “You’re a nosey fucker.”

He finally snapped.

With one swift action, he grabbed your jaw with only one hand, yanking you inside the bathroom, only for you to be pushed against the cold wall beside the sink.

You swallow a little grunt in the back of your throat. Watching him clenching his sharp jaws, drawing his face closer to yours, heavy breath against your lips.

“Say that again.” He pressed between his teeth, eyes never leaving yours. “Say that again, I dare you.”

His sudden roaring voice gets your knees weak, you didn’t believe your voice wouldn’t stutter if you open your mouth, so you choose to be silent.

“Thought so.” He retorted, filling your silence. Hwajin let go of your face. “Now go change.”

As stubborn as ever, you shake your head. “No.”

“No?” His eyebrows are raising. “Should I rip that dress off of you, then?”

“Is that a threat?” You finally got your voice back without deceiving.

Hwajin gulped down hard, eyes darkened, he pinched your chin with his index and thumb, “It is, if you don’t shut up.”

“Make me.”

“I’m sure you can beg better than that.”

Blood was all over your face when he said that very sentence with his deep voice, right beside your ear.

“Well?” Hwajin is back looming over your face. “Are you going to be a goodgirl and listen to me?”

Once again, you shake your head, disclosed, “This dress, or not at all.”

“Fucking minx.” He hoarse. “You’re gonna be so satisfying to tame.”

He crashed his lips against yours, it didn’t take long for you to submit to him eventually. Your head is getting dizzy, his kiss getting deep. His hands gripped your waist while yours traveled all over his naked chest.

One of his free hands reaches your jaw, leading you to tilt your head, giving him more access to slip his tongue into your mouth, muffling your moan with his.

When his hands move to caress your back, you automatically press your chest against his, making him groan when he feels your breast grazing his naked chest.

Hwajin grabs your thighs, lifting you up with ease, wrapping your legs around him as he takes you off of the wall and sits you beside the sink.

You take a sharp breath when his rough palm kneads your breast. And his eyes widen when he can feel your nipple harden behind the thin silk.

“No bra?” He whispered against your lips, eyes glistening with lust. “You’re really enjoying yourself being a slut, huh?”

You gripped his shoulder and spoke, “Oh? You’re being unreasonable because I’m not your slut, is that what it is?”

“Don’t force me to ruin this pretty face of yours, doll.” His knuckles glide harshly on your cheek.

“Why not? You seem hellbent about me being a minx. If you want to ruin me, ruin me.” You whispered back with the most alluring voice.

Hwajin smirked, fingers dancing around your neck. “You bark a lot, you little whore. Wanna see how hard I can bite?”

Before you have time to answer, he grabs the front of your dress and tears it off, exposing your naked body before his eyes. You gasped.

“Hands on the sink.” He commanded, seeing you trying to cover your breast with your arm. “We don’t have to tie you up, do we?”

You shake your head and keep your hands on the edge of the sink, letting him drink up your glory naked curve.

Hwajin did the same with your thin lace, throwing them to the floor.

You hold your breath feeling the sudden contact of his finger on your wet labia, one of your hands automatically grip his bicep that rests on the sink.

“Already?” He mocked, licking his lips. “I haven’t even touched you.”

His thumb pressed your clit while he inserted two fingers inside you, making you lock his wrist between your thighs, but you still held out your moan, biting your lower lips to prevent it. He starts with a slow pace, moving his finger in and out.

Hwajin leaned down to give your lips a quick peck, he continued to kiss down your jaw, and neck. It didn’t take long before he found your sweet spot that made you jerk up your hips and groan.

“There it goes,” He laughed shortly in triumph, watching you writhing under his touch, groaning in pleasure.

He inserted the third, picking up the pace, thumb circling your clit. Your head is spinning, to the point you’re almost a moaning mess, fingers scratch his shoulder, neck full of burning red marks.

“Mhm, fuck—!” You cursed, feeling the knot on your stomach. “I’m close.”

Hwajin immediately pulled out his fingers, leaving you high and dry with the sudden loss of contact, your pussy gripped on nothing.

“Fucking hell, you freak, old man!” You protested.

“Aren’t you an angry little one?” He darkly laughed, taking his place between your thighs, “Be grateful that was your punishment.”

“I swear to God—!”

“He’s not here, but I am. So you better start begging to me.”

For a split second you contemplate your pride, but lust quickly takes over, your mind’s foggy, the only thing that’s clear in your head is Hwajin. Caging you between his rippled arms.

Out of frustration, you circle your legs around his waist, leading him to be closer to you, grinding yourself against his clothed cock, hard and twitching behind his gray jogger. He gripped your hips to stop you from moving.

“Badgirls don’t get my cock,” He breathed, leaning against your ear, “Be good and beg.”

With a fainted breath you plead, “Please—!”

“Please what?” He drew back from you and you panicked, but he let you hold his arm. He was going to free his cock, his jogger getting tight.

“Please, please, ruin me,” You raved, arms around his neck, wet pussy practically dripping, “Fuck me up, use me all you want, sir.”

Hwajin shrugged down his jogger, pulsing cock slap your thigh, he pushed back his loose hair before leaning down to kiss you hard.

“Since you asked so nicely,” He disclosed, leading his dick inside your warm opening. The both of you grunting here and there even when it’s only half of his dick going inside.

Your breath uncontrolled, trying so hard to take his cock in, it was the biggest you’ve ever seen, the girth and veins and all, so perfect to the point you rolled your eyes to the back of your head.

“Hwajin!” You yelped when he inserted more inches.

“Atta girl,” He praised, a smirk plastered on his face, “Screamed it.”

You writhed, hips curled up, breast grazing his chest, the feeling of his hard cock stroking your walls is dizzying, “Hwajin, sir—!”

His cock twitched, his breath hitched, “Fuck—I’m here, doll.”

He cursed under his breath when your wall gripped his dick with a vice grip, sucking him in further. He started with a painfully slow stroke, leaving you a moaning mess, trying to fuck yourself on his dick.

“That’s it,” His heavy breath feels warm against your neck as he nibbles on your skin, “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me.”

Despite the fact that you enjoyed his lovely affection, you don’t exactly want it to be like that. So you give him a push.

“Don’t go easy on me now, tiger.” You taunted, kissing his jaw, his stubbles tickling your smooth skin.

He snorted, cupping your jaw with one hand, “Big words come from a little girl.”

Hwajin pulled out and flipped you over so your back against his chest, one of his hands sneaked under your arm, gripping your neck so you’d look up at yourself in front of the mirror.

The way his bigger posture looming over you, his gaze ever so sharp met against yours through the mirror, as he kissed your nape and shoulder. His free hand runs down your spine, making your back bent under his delicate touch.

“Count.” He dictated, when he rested his rough palm on your ass.

One hard slap against your ass cheek and you groan in pain, but still manage to spell out, “One—!”

One more, sharper.

“Two!”

Another one, harder.

“Three—fuck!”

Hwajin is a powerful man. He knew every spank he gave you was harder than any average man would do. That’s because he knew you could take it. You’re stronger than most, he didn’t hesitate to take his anger out on you.

You continued to count until ten, both your ass cheeks now burning red, his hand print made him proud of it.

“If only I had known from the start, that all it takes for you to shut up is fucking the attitude out of you, I would’ve done this sooner.” He sneered, glancing at your panting state through the mirror.

His cock twitching up watching your red cheeks, sweat glistening to your chest, “You know you look prettier when you choked on my hand, pretty doll.”

You hummed and pushed back your ass, bumping his cock in the process, hurrying him to get inside you. “Please, sir.”

“Tell me what you want, I will grant it.” He crashed his chest against your back. “Remember, you only have to beg.”

“I want it—” You stuttered when he distracted you by grazing his cock on your wet labia. “—Mhmm, fuck. Wanna cum on your cock, sir.”

The devilish smile appeared on Hwajin’s face, “Greedy, greedy girl.”

He’s back grabbing your hips, re-entering you from behind. A long moan coming out of you when he thrust all the way in. Not wanting to hold himself back, he set a rapid pace pounding your walls.

You don’t find anything to gripped except clawing the mirror in front of you, watching yourself so lewd when you get fucked. The slaps sound echoing around the bathroom.

Hwajin’s hand back gripping your neck from behind, his eyes locked into yours, heavy breath against your neck as he grunted, “You’re my slut. Only mine.”

“I—Mhmm, ‘m yours.” You mumbled, shutting your eyes for a moment when he glided down to get a hold of your breast, jiggling on his palm as he furiously thrusted in and out of you.

He rambled out praise for you while you’re just whining in pleasure, feeling his dick stroke your walls just right, sliding in and out, his breath raged on your neck, broad sweaty chest grazing your back.

“It’s getting bigger.” You groaned, feeling his cock stretching you more and more.

His ego boosted, Hwajin fumed with a deep hoarse voice, “It’s yours.”

You respond with a tighter grip around his cock.

“Thank me.” He mused with dignity.

You moaned, “Thank you, sir.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I can’t—” He gritted his teeth, lean back to grab your hair and pulled it while his other hand pressed down the edge of your back, “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Too—fuck, too rough, Hwajin, sir, please—!” You whined, pleasure coming from every part of your body.

“Am I now?” He teased, picking up his face, “You deserved it anyway. C’mon, this is what you begged me for, so take it. Take it like a goodgirl you are.”

“Oh—please!”

One hard thrust and you finally come, he rewarded you with a quick peck on your shoulder. He let go of your hair, your half body collapse on the sink while he fuck you through your orgasm to chase his own.

He jerked up and emptied himself inside you, along with a few curses under his breath, hands still gripping your waist tightly.

A few minutes passed, the both of you coming down from your high. He pulled out of you, cum dripping down to your thighs. He turned you around to face him, face flushed and glowed with sweats.

“You alright?” Hwajin asked, giving you a sweet kiss.

You mumbled against his mouth, “Never better.”

He looked around, finding your ruined dress and lace on the floor, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Yeah?” You chuckled, wrapping your arm around his neck, kissing the corner of his lips.

“Yeah.” He grabbed your ass, pushing you toward him, leaning into your touch. “Jump, let’s get your sweaty ass a bath.”

You giggled and slapped his shoulder, “You stink too, fugly old man!”

“You like that I’m an old man, really.”

“Unfortunately I do. So, could I be yours to claim?”

“Without question, pretty doll.”

smutty yandere dilf! emperor? 😍😍 reader is like a servant or something jsjsjsjs

yandere!dilf!emperor x female!servant!reader smutty 18+

cw: dark content, child neglect, alcohol abuse, breeding, inappropriate touching, jealousy, torture, dub-con, mentions of pregnancy and lactation

a/n: to people who see this post, don't like? then don't read

imagine attending as a servant to the emperor who was taken by grief with the lost of his wife

you notice how he drowns himself in alcohol leaving his work to the butlers and other lords

even neglecting his only child, who you can see was sadden by the situation of losing their mother then their father to drinking

the emperor was too drunk to pay attention to you, although you are mostly the one who takes care of him because you tolerate anything that comes into your way

whether he throws a fit or vomit all over, you chose to endure it because of necessity

whenever you have time for yourself, you often find the young child of the emperor all alone, playing by the gardens or at their mother's empty room

the servants and guards attending to the child or passing by would look at the child with pity in their eyes thinking they are going to be doomed for life

having enough of seeing the sad prince/princess, you took it upon yourself to take care of them

you approached the child who was wary but eventually warmed up to you

days went by and the young prince/princess would often follow you like a duckling to it's mother

you adore the little kid and everyone can see it, the smile coming from the prince/princess was enough to make anyone's day bright

the news of his own child being fond of another person reached the ears of the emperor

he was in the middle of throwing a fit when you did not attend to him

the poor guard assigned to him had to inform him how you are currently attending to the his child which explains why you are late

he got a little sober and asked to show where you are

he soon dressed a little more decently albeit still smelling like alcohol and his appearance messy, he still went to find you

the guard lead the way until the emperor comes into a view where you are playing with the prince/princess along with a couple of servants

he watches at how loud his child's laughter are and the glow of your face

he feels his heart beat as if he has fallen in love again

you were nudge and turn to look at the emperor gracing you with his presence

you immediately stop tickling the young child and bow to him

words of apology came out of your lips profusely, stumbling over your words as you look down fearing for the worst

he only asked you to stand up and inspects you

your doe eyed stare makes his insides turn into mush

the young prince/princess turning to you pulling your hand to play again

the emperor looks down at his child who hid behind you from being unfamiliar with their very own father

he kneels down at the level of his child, it pains him how terrible he must've been for neglecting the sweet child his dead wife left behind

he apologizes for his behavior and promises to be on his best

the emperor saw how the little boy/girl would look up to you asking for approval to which you gave them a nod

the kid reluctantly agrees

he then turns to you apologizing and thanking you for taking care of the little one

since that day, it changed the way he looks at you

there's constantly a guard by your side especially when you are with the young child

the emperor keeps an eye on you at times

monitoring your routine

sending gifts and goods to your way

his obsession worsens day by day

he would slowly began to show interest with you

the emperor would drop his bad habits hoping you would see him in a different light

he does want to change but he can't the itching of his mind and hands to be on you

he quits alcohol and now you are his new addiction

he spends more time joining you and his only child

to sneakily get closer to you, learning about your interests and background

it makes him fall deeper in-love with you

his advances would become obvious to everyone, everyone except you

too focused on your duties to even noticed the emperor following you like a puppy

he grew even more jealous and would often take people secretly to torture

the next time you encounter those people, they would only scurry away than interact with you which places you in an odd position

he tunes it up even more through 'accidental' touches

he figures that he loves it when he's close to you, inhaling your scent almost delicious enough to taste you

he's hoping to get more so he permanently assigned you to him when you are not spending time with his child

his company intimidates you as you always feel his heated gaze

eyes scanning down from your head to toe, licking his lips while doing so

the emperor would often cage you in his arms or simply grabbing you by the waist

you get surprised everytime he does

when he couldn't handle it anymore he pins you in place and asks if you can't see how much he's pining for you

you shake your head no and he grins

"I will show you how much I want you to be mine."

he starts kissing you, making you whimper in the process

he makes you wrap your arms around him

kissing you so roughly almost taking your breath away

he rips your dress off making you yelp but he does not break the kiss

the emperor's hands would reach over to rub his palms over your skin

his touch leaves a trail of goosebumps and you feel heated

he breaks of the kiss and his lips travel south to suckle on your nipples

he plays with your breasts, teasing them and pinching them

he chuckles as he hears your whines

"patience, wouldn't be lovely if your lovely breasts swell with milk after I filled you with child?"

his words surprises you, making you worry but your mind is overtaken by lust

"yes please my emperor."

you say sultrily successfully seducing him with a sentence alone

he gets you and him naked

he feels how wet you are for him but decides that it isn't enough for him to let you accomodate to his size

so he scissors your walls with his fingers, rubbing and thrusting until his palms feel your clit

you whine and thrash around as you feel pleasure all over

back arching as he sings praises for how you're doing so well for him

you take the pleasure he gives you and soon comes undone with his hands

he pulls his hands out of your sore pussy, then brings his slick coated fingers to your lips

"open your mouth and suck it."

you comply and suck and lick slick of your release on his fingers

you taste your arousal making you clench your thighs which does not go unnoticed by him

he positions his body between your legs, grabbing you to feel you even closer

he looks down at you with lust

thrusting into you without warning

he groans at the tightness surrounding him almost rendering him motionless with how you squeeze his cock

he starts to thrust slow then suddenly went fast

you moan loudly as he fucks you hard

eyes rolling back to the back of your head

your brain shutting off from the stimulation you are receiving

he rams his cock into you with no mercy, overstimulating your clit in the process

he groans out that he is going to cum he rubs your clit with his thumb

fucking you even harder as you squeal

he thrusts so fast until he cums with a loud groan by your ear

you have your second orgasm with him filling your womb with his seed

he pulls out to see how his cum drips, he pushes it back with a thumb letting you moan a little softly

He cuddles you and you snuggle right back

You immediately fall asleep with exhaustion

he whispers in your ear that you are going to be his and his only

the emperor is determined to make you take the seat of the queen to raise his children and be his wife

he wants you to swell up with his kids marking you as his

for now he let's you rest and those plans with be continued for another day