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its raining again | ken ryuguji

summary: a familiar face shows up in your life when you had lost the only family you ever had, reminding you of hope for the future

wc: 4.8k

content: sfw, ken & reader are in their twenties, modern au not canon at alllllll literally no one else is mentioned other than draken and gang shit is no where to be seen, mentions of death, descriptions of grief & mourning after losing a loved one, sick family members, mention of vomit, suggestive talk but nothing explicit is written, pregnancy, ANGST, character death, nightmares, a lot of crying, absolutely heart wrenchingly sad i am so sorry

a/n: this is incredibly personal to me and a love letter to my emotionally unavailable father. i had a dream and wrote this in one day. idk. please don't ask about him

literally dont even read this idk why it exists its just depressing and sad but also im in love w draken and desire him in my life terribly ok bye dont talk to me lol

You crept through the empty foyer of the house, still in the darkness and quieter than ever. The house that lived in your memories as being filled with laughter, family and friends carrying on into the latest hours of the night, was now empty, devoid of any of its former glory. Just a collection of walls and floors, whose purpose now was the simple task of providing shelter.

Footsteps light and cautious, you continued to pad through the house, staring out of the front door at the large yard just feet away. It, like the house, was empty, save for a single tree that framed the house beautifully--something visitors always loved to comment on. You remember all the times you spent napping under that tree in the summer months when you were younger, your father teaching you to climb it’s sturdy trunk at the ripe age of seven, and at seventeen, your first kiss beneath the tree’s arms. For a fleeting moment, a smile tugged at your lips in remembrance. Until, your eyes forced themselves to glimpse at the new stone that stood at its base, right next to the old, weathered one. The smile faded immediately. As if it had never appeared.

Dawn came, and soon the desolate house was filled with people, familiar faces yet so foreign to you. They were sad. And so were you. The house became a place of mourning against your will, comments of I’m so sorry for your loss and he was such a good man going in one ear and out the other. You couldn’t bring yourself to face them. To give them a genuine acknowledgement. A passive nod was all you would respond with; the ache in your chest made you physically unable to utter any word of any kind. Even if they were in regard to the only member of your family you had left. Now, he is gone. And you were left alone in this house.

It was in January that your father informed you of his sickness, and the following August he was gone.

It’s always been the two of you, for as long as you could remember. Your mom had died soon after you were born, and your father never missed a chance to tell you how you were just like her, a spitting image of her. It was almost like she was still with him, he’d say. You had her eyes. Her smile. Her laugh.

You think you feel similar now to how he felt when she passed. It couldn’t have been easy for him, all of a sudden so alone in taking care of an infant. Unlike you, though, he didn’t watch her suffer for long. It was over quick, he told you when you were older. The doctors said she didn’t feel any pain. I’m happy about that.

You wish your father had the same fate as her. Car accident. Over before he could even realize it happened. But he was not so lucky.

Your father suffered many months before his passing. His body slowly killed himself, and he couldn’t do anything about it. His fate was sealed before he even knew he was sick. The time bomb ticked away unknowingly within him, until the day he walked himself into the doctor’s office.

Two months later, he told you. Best case scenario, he survived till the end of the year. Worst case scenario, he disappears in his sleep.

That game of roulette was taxing on you, prying you out of any and all relationships you had formed in your adulthood, bringing you back home to take care of your bedridden parent. You stayed secluded away, spending every minute you could with him. Remembering the tender moments from your childhood spent in that big front yard. Remembering how he taught you everything you knew about life.

If you are anything in life, be good, he told you each morning without fail. Go out into the world and do something great everyday.

And so, you did. Or at least, you tried to. The world needs more good. You tried your hardest. There were tough days, but as long as you tried, that’s all that mattered.

His words were all you could think about as you stared into the eyes of friends, relatives, one by one offering their condolences and warm hugs to you.

The ceremony was over before you realized it started. They bid their farewells, telling you how beautifully you spoke about the deceased man. They were just saying that out of pity. You know you barely said anything. Not even a tear had been shed for him. You didn’t need to vocalize some long, drawn out eulogy in honor of him. Revealing all the secrets you two kept between one another, no, that would be an insult to his legacy.

You didn’t believe a word you spoke. You wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t believe you either. But they wouldn’t tell you that. They wouldn’t tell the truth to the mourning daughter. Never.

Just more kind words and smiles. More of let me know if you need anything, I’ll call in the morning to check on you, or your personal favorite, things will get easier. You didn’t want easier. You wanted him back. You wanted to be able to call him when life got hard. You wanted to thank him over and over for bringing you into the world in the first place.

But all there was left was silence.

The family and friends had all left, dispersing to their cars at the end of the street and leaving you sitting on the front porch. But you weren’t alone.

A familiar face stood in front of your parents' graves. One that you knew well. One that you haven’t seen since you found out about your ill father. One that you hurt. His black eyes stared at the stones sticking out of the ground, eyebrows pinched together, almost angry. But not at you. Not like they were that day you left him.

Those eyes drifted up to meet yours across the yard, softening at your hollow appearance. He made his way over to you, hands shoved in his pockets and stood at the bottom stair, eye level with your sitting form.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The question hung in the air. It wasn’t accusatory, nor was it antagonistic. It was simply a question of confusion, not understanding why you kept the real reason for your disappearance all those months ago a secret from him.

You blinked your dry eyes at him. “I don’t know. Maybe because that would’ve made it real? And I didn’t want it to be.”

“But it is real.” He deadpanned to you. He didn’t realize how insensitive it sounded in his head before quickly vocalizing the thought. He cringed inwardly at himself. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

“No, you’re right.” You said, eyes floating back at the twin graves in front of you. “It’s all very painfully real.”

He let out a sigh, ascending up the few stairs with heavy feet and slumping beside you, offering the slightest bit of comfort you didn’t know you needed. You didn’t say a word, just shook your head in response to his nudge of reassurance. “You could’ve told me, y’know.”

“I’m sorry.” You breathed. You’ve been meaning to say it this whole time.

The boy next to you scoffed. “I should be the one saying that to you, don’t you think?”

“I’m the one that shouted all that bullshit at you and pushed you away.”

“You’re the one that just lost their only family.” He reminded you. “I don’t blame you; I’d react the same exact way.”

It was your turn to scoff now. “You have no family.”

He just shrugged, leaning back on his elbows against the stair behind him. “I still have people close to me that I care about.”

You used to be one of those people. Not anymore, you thought. After all these months not having seen him. Dodging his calls. Ignoring any contact whatsoever. You glanced over at him. “How’d you find me, anyways?”

“Your sweet Aunt Susan left her contact information in your father’s obituary. It’s amazing what you can find online these days.” His tone was lighthearted--an attempt to pull a laugh, a smile, anything other than monotony from you.

His attempt was unsuccessful. “She’s not my real Aunt.”

“Why does that matter?”

You chewed on the inside of your mouth. “Makes it feel like there’s family left. But there isn’t.”

“You just gotta make a new family, then.” He said, nudging your side once more. He’s never been great at comforting you, but somehow, the smallest part of you wanted to listen to him.

He spoke again. “It’ll get easier.”

At this, you let out a loud, mocking laugh. “I’m sure they will, Kennie.” Your voice was bathed in bitter sarcasm, but Draken was used to this. It was a coping mechanism. It’s normal. You stole a glance at his deep eyes before resting your head on his shoulder. This was the first time you felt comfortable feeling the slightest bit vulnerable. “I’m sad.”

He turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I know, and I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make you happy.”

“I’m happy you are here now.” You told him. It was true; you weren’t expecting his appearance at all, but now that he’s here, you realized just how lonely you would be without him. He was a friend. One that continued worrying about you even though you desperately pushed your friends away. The only one.

He had been more than a friend. For quite some time. Before all this shit blew up in your face, you had considered him family. But as soon as your real family’s problem came into the picture, you realized just how sacred that family was in comparison. The fake familial status felt wrong, dirty, invaluable.

Now thinking about it, it didn’t look so offensive.

“Let me make you some dinner.” His words broke you out of your thoughts, catching your attention to the tall blonde now standing at his full height, holding a hand out for you to grab.

You laced your fingers with his, allowing him to pull you up. “You don’t need to do that; I can make myself food.”

You thought your lie was believable enough, but Draken knew you too well. “You don’t eat when you’re sad. That’s not good; you have to take care of yourself even when it’s hard.”

Following him into the house, which was now your house, you averted your eyes from the photos of you and your father decorating the walls. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him; you had to just move forward, in step with your friend.

You sat in silence as he threw you together a meal, all of a sudden not feeling capable of conversation. Even when he arranged you a plate, you couldn’t find the strength to eat. The simplest task seemed so impossible to you. He just sat by you patiently, a hand on your back rubbing soothing circles over your shirt.

“Can you eat one bite? For me?” He asked, picking up the fork for you.

Without even looking at him, you asked, “Why are you doing this for me?”

He put the fork back down, thinking for a moment. “Even though you pushed me away, I never stopped loving you. And when you see someone you love in pain, you want to help them. At least I do.”

You thought about his words, staring intently at the food in front of you. Making up your mind, you grabbed the fork and brought it to your mouth, barely even swallowing before you pushed yourself out of your seat. “I’m going to go take a bath.”

You turned, leaving the boy still seated, eyes trained on you as you walked away and up the stairs. Shutting the door behind you, you let out a long exhale, shutting your eyes tightly to try and extinguish the tears that pricked at your eyes. You shook your head.

Hot water filling the tub, you watched the water level rising, finding it incredibly mesmerizing. You blinked, and the tub was filled. Clothes fell to the ground one by one and you dipped your toe in to test the temperature.

Submerging yourself in the water, you felt your tense muscles relax a bit. Every time you blinked, you saw his face. The face that was ingrained in your brain and would never leave your memory even if you tried to erase it. The face that you saw when you figured out how to ride a bike without training wheels. The face that you saw when you graduated high school. The face of pure adoration and pride in his only daughter.

It was haunting to you now.

You forced your eyes to stare at the ceiling above you, gazing directly into the singular light that glowed in the dimly lit bathroom. Regardless of how hard you tried not to blink, your eyes reflexively shut themselves every so often, forcing you to see that haunting image of your father.

As the seconds passed, you kept reliving those final days with your father. Into your vision came your father in the hospital, heart still beating but only due to the life support he had been put on. You hadn’t even cried when you gave the nurse the go ahead to pull the plug on him. It was sad, of course, but the numbness was paralyzing. He was gone.

The realization suddenly hit you. And with it, the loneliness.

You heard your name being called, but you didn’t care to look back at the figure standing in the doorway. Draken cautiously stepped in, heart breaking when he saw the tears along your lash line, but you didn’t dare shed them. Still as stubborn as always, he thought.

He knelt beside you, saying your name once more. “Are you okay?”

You turned your head finally, sitting up in the tub. Draken was mindful to keep his eyes on yours and not allow them to drift down to your exposed skin, but you had ulterior motives. You leaned towards him, placing a kiss on his mouth; he didn’t kiss you back. It didn’t feel right to him.

You pulled away from him and arched a brow. “Kiss me back.”

“Not right now.” He told you. Wordlessly, you reached out and grabbed his hand, bringing it to your bare chest. He pried it away instantly. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to touch me.” You impassively told him.

He shook his head. “You’re vulnerable right now, ___; you know I can’t do that to you.”

“But I want you to.”

“But I don’t want to.” He replied, serious as ever. “I wouldn’t feel right.”

Accepting defeat, you settled back down against the porcelain tub. “I’m sorry.” Your voice was small and cracked on the last word. “I’m not going to clean myself if that’s why you came to check on me.”

“That’s okay. At least you tried. That’s all that matters.”

You looked back up at the light on the ceiling. “My dad used to say that.” Memories started flooding back, and you felt overwhelmed all over again. This time, sickness accompanied it. You lurched forward at the realization. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Hopping out of the water as quickly as you could, you knelt in front of the toilet and threw the seat up just in time for you to empty your stomach into the basin. Draken pulled your hair out of your face, reaching for your towel to drape over your naked body. His free hand found your back once more, trying to relax you as best he could. “You’re okay,” he assured you, “everything is okay.”

As soon as the nausea subsided, you grabbed at the towel to wipe your mouth. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” You said, face hot with embarrassment.

He shook his head. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll go get you a change of clothes, yeah?”

He left your side for a brief moment to fetch you a nightgown, giving you privacy to dry off as needed and pull the garment over your body. Once he returned, he found you brushing your teeth. He smiled. “You should get some rest.”

You spit in the sink, looking over to him and nodding. You took two steps over towards him, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a warm hug. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

He carried you to your bed, and made sure you were tucked in before he placed a kiss on your forehead. You rolled over, facing away from him and burying your head into the pillow.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asked you.

You didn’t answer. Before you heard anything else, sleep had overcome you.

Your sleep was filled with nightmares. You saw him. You saw your mother. You saw your life with both of them, happy--a reality that never was. Instead of either of them dying, it was you they were mourning over. It was your funeral they had attended. This is the fifth night in a row you’ve had this same exact dream.

However, there was another person that appeared.

He was standing in your yard, similar to how you saw him earlier today. However, it was your grave that Draken stood in front of, eyebrows knitted, wondering where he went wrong, what he could’ve done differently. You woke up screaming, hot tears staining your cheeks.

He was there in the blink of an eye, standing in your doorway. “What’s wrong?” He asked urgently, looking around to make sure there was no immediate danger.

You shook your head, covering your face with your hands. The dam inside you that you had spent so long building up had finally broken, giving in under the pressure. Loud sobs fell from your lips as the tears continued to pour from your eyes. You couldn’t even form coherent words. All the emotions had been welling up inside you all this time; you had been stoic for too many months, and now, everything was pouring out of you.

Draken was by your side in an instant, holding you close to his chest and allowing you to cry into him. “Hey, I got you.” He hushed your cries. “You’re okay, I promise.”

You continued to hideously sob into him, clutching at his shirt as if he was a lifeline. The hyperventilating was starting to ease up the longer he held you, whispering reassuring words into your ear. After a while, you found peace. The tears had dried, but you still remained in his arms, fisting the material of his shirt between your fingers.

He stroked your hair, calming you further. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You finally released his shirt and leaned away from him some, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “Not really.” He moved to get up and leave you to rest some more, but you grabbed his wrist. “Stay with me.” You insisted. He hesitated a moment. You blinked up at him. “Please.”

“Okay.”

He climbed in next to you under the covers and you laid your head on his chest, finding comfort in the warmth he provided.

“What would I do without you?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He hugged you closer to him. “I’m right here.”

Your ear was placed right above his heart, softly drumming in his chest. A sign that he was still with you.

You fell asleep to the quiet sound of his heartbeat.

When you woke up, it was silent. The hypnotic thump of his heartbeat had vanished. Instantly, you shot up, heart rate spiking as you threw the covers off you, running out of the bedroom. “Draken?!” You screeched throughout the house, your breath caught in your throat and the urge to cry suddenly overcoming you with each passing second he wasn’t in your sight.

Down the stairs you went, weaving through the foyer, into the living room and then the kitchen, and he was nowhere.

Had you imagined him? Was your mind playing tricks on you this whole time? You thought to yourself. No, you couldn’t be driving yourself mad like this. There was no way...

You caught sight of a little puff of smoke rising in the window above the kitchen sink. Curiously, you softly opened the door to the back porch where you found Draken sitting on the stairs, a cigarette hanging lazily in his left hand.

“Kennie?” You whimpered, becoming self conscious at your manic disposition you fell into just moments ago.

He hadn’t even noticed you found him; at the sound of your voice, he whipped his head around, blowing out the smoke he had just inhaled and dropping the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. “You’re awake,” he observed, standing up and brushing the dirt off his rear. “I was gonna make you breakfast, but I didn’t want to wake you and I didn’t want it to be cold when you woke up, either. I’ll go make some now.” He took a step closer to you, noticing the way your eyelashes had clumped together from the fresh tears. “Were you crying? Did something happen?”

His hands found their way to either shoulder of yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze before pulling you into a hug. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I just...didn’t know where you went.”

“I’m here now.” He told you earnestly. “I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to leave.”

“No,” You said, probably a little too quickly. “Please stay.”

And he did.

He was there each day that summer and into the autumn. Some days were harder than others. But not once did he ever allow himself to become impatient with the way you grieved. He gave you space when you asked, but usually you craved his presence. Even if it was just being in the same room, the two of you sitting in the living room reading a book, or taking a walk down the dirt path behind your house, those small moments with Draken were your saving grace you realized.

In the winter, he would bring you tea whenever he found you sitting by yourself out on the front porch, meditating on your fond memories of your old family. But, with time, you learned to love your new family.

Days passed, and seasons changed, and before you knew it, it was summer again. And Draken was still by your side.

It was a Friday when he had came home from work, that same where’s my pretty girl at? that you never got tired of ringing throughout the home before the door shut behind him. There you were, in all your simple beauty, painting the flowers Draken had planted for you out back as a birthday gift.

He greeted you with a tender kiss, and you fell into your usual routine of sharing how your days went away from each other, culminating in continued conversation over dinner which more often than not, switched over to the porch swing he had insisted on installing last April. The two of you would find a comfortable silence eventually, listening to the calming sounds of the nighttime while his hands encapsulated yours perfectly, tracing random patterns into your skin.

That night, when the two of you had stolen away to the solace of your shared bedroom, you worshipped each other as if you were the last people on this earth. Eager hands groping in the darkness of the night, the sole purpose of every movement being to please one another, showing each other how deeply your love ran.

It wasn’t often that the two of you shared intimate moments like this, allowing yourself to succumb to every emotion locked within your hearts, becoming one.

And when it was all said and done that night, after the heavy breaths calmed down and the two of you were still, Draken gazed at you, whose tired eyes were closed. Just before you were taken by sleep, he ran a thumb across your cheek, stirring you awake.

The two words fell effortlessly from his lips: marry me.

You opened your eyes completely at his simple proposal, heart fluttering in your chest. You didn’t even need to think about your answer.

He was there the following summer, greeting you like he always did, though today, it was Tuesday.

You heard the sweetness of his voice sound throughout the home, reaching your ears upstairs in the secluded bathroom. Twiddling with the ring adorning your fourth finger on your left hand, you stared down at the fate of you and your new husband’s future. Your new family was beginning to grow.

Floating downstairs, you found him in the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets for a pair of wine glasses.

“But it’s only Tuesday,” you informed him. “Why drink on a Tuesday?”

“Because, my pretty girl,” he replied with a toothy grin. “I’ve finally been promoted.”

Before he could open the bottle of wine, you notified him you wouldn’t be drinking.

“My love, I know wine gives you headaches, but that’s only when we drink the cheap stuff.” He assured you, waving you off. “I bought this special for you; it’s good, I promise it won’t make you sick.”

God, he could be dense.

You shook your head, chuckling as you grabbed his wrist--a telltale sign you were being serious. “Darling, I’m pregnant.” You told him, sealing your announcement with a kiss. He stood there, unbelieving, as his hands subconsciously drifted down to your stomach. Though the news rendered him speechless, his glimmering eyes said everything he was thinking. You beamed up at him. “Congrats on the promotion, daddy.”

He was there on the nights your sweet little girl would wail incessantly in her bassinet next to your bed, stirring the both of you awake. But he was always quicker than you, placing a hand on your shoulder and kissing your forehead. “Rest, pretty girl. I got her.”

Smiling sleepily back at him, you turned on your side and watched as the blonde stood up, craning his head down and scooping up the little bawling bundle of joy, hushing her and rocking her and whispering sweet nothings to her to get her to calm down some. It wasn’t working.

You hummed, shutting your eyes softly. “She’s hungry.” You pushed yourself up, blinking your eyes awake as your husband brought the child over. He positioned himself back next to you, watching in awe as you fed your daughter, cooing to her softly.

He just shook his head. “What would I do without you?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Your eyes flickered up to his, and you smiled at his reaction to hearing his words from all those years ago. “I’m right here.”

He wasn’t there in the doctor’s office that autumnal Thursday afternoon. Those headaches you had been getting frequently turned out to be an indicator of something much worse than just a bad hangover from cheap wine.

Exactly what your father had.

The doctor gave you the same timeline that your father had shared with you back then. Best case scenario, you survived the rest of the year. Worst case scenario, you disappear in your sleep.

With a heavy heart, you found your way back home, planning in your head how to tell your husband of the unfortunate news. How were you going to bring up that miserable game of roulette to him?

Thursday evening turned into Friday, which turned into Saturday, and you still hadn’t told him. Unlike you in the situation with your father, Draken didn’t know of the presence of the ticking time bomb inside of you. And when you kissed him sweetly as you laid down to rest that Saturday night, he told you he loved you as always, calling you his pretty girl and telling you how he couldn’t wait for tomorrow morning. Sunday mornings with your husband and daughter were pure bliss.

Until, they weren’t.

He was there when the house was quiet again that Sunday morning. When he woke up to a deafening silence, only one breath filling the room when there should’ve been two.

Then, the pitter patter of your daughter creeping into the bedroom, tear filled eyes staring up at her father, telling him she had a bad dream.

But it was him who had just woken up into his worst nightmare.

i feel like writing for shinichiro again and i'm sorry cause he is the only thing i ever think about ...

well not really much sorry

actually not sorry at all

Shinichiro x nurse! Reader

You click back into work the next day and peak down at your clipboard. You shouldn’t be happy about this, but Sano Shinichiro is still in the hospital and you’ve been assigned his room again.

You hate that you check your reflection in the window before opening the door to his room.

At first, you’re assaulted by the smell of cigarettes, then three unfamiliar faces blink back at you as you stand idly.

On the bed, Shinichiro sits and watches as his cig ashes onto his sheets. One of his friends has a lighter in his hand and promptly slips it back into his pocket.

“Uhm—“

“What did I say about smoking?” You snap.

All the guys promptly stand up straighter except for the blonde, watching you lazily from the corner of his eye. They’re all tall and well built. You find yourself staring back.

You cross the room to snatch the cigarette from him and trash it. “What kind of friends are you? Giving cigarettes to a sick man.” You shake your head.

“They’re good people,” shinichiro insists, smiling knowingly at his friends.

You tuck a thermometer under his tongue and begin to check his other vitals. “How’s your pain?” You ask curtly.

“It’s getting better.” He shrugs. “The drugs help.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes as the rest of his friends start snickering along. You grab the thermometer as mark his temperature on his clipboard.

“Visiting hours are until four today,” You mumble, eying each of the men.

The one with slick back hair checks his watch and nods. “Well then,” he looks at the other two. “We’ll be going then.”

“Aw, cmon, you just got here.” Shinichiro groans.

“We’ll see you when you get out,” the same guy says.

The blonde looks over at her. “When’s that gonna be?” He asks.

You can’t hold eye contact with him. It’s too intense, so you shrug. “Discharge depends solely on the patient.”

He nods. “Then stop fucking around and hurry up and get better already.”

The largest man sets a heavy hand on the blondes shoulder. “Relax, Waka,”

Waka’s earring jingles as he rises and holds the door open for his friends. “I’m expecting you to be at our meeting next Saturday.” He says, then looks over at you. “Make sure he’s better by then.” He says almost like a threat.

You blink and shoo them out of the room. “The nerve on that boy,” you shake your head.

“Sorry, I’m still trying to domesticate them. You should’ve seen him before.” Shinichiro sighs.

“What are you doing with a group of guys like that anyway?” You ask, refilling his iv.

“Like I said, they’re my friends. They’ve got my back no matter what.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, they should take better care of you before you get your other kidney stabbed.” You say, lifting his wound to dress it again.

Shinichiro winces around another smile. The incision looks better every time you see it. It’s healing very nicely.

“So,” he mumbles, “you think I’ll be out before the weekend?”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s the hurry? Give your body time to recover.”

“I’ve been here all week.” He points out, “that’s plenty of time.”

“If I were you I’d stay here for as long as the country will pay for.” You say, pulling his robe back down. You crouch over to throw away the old bandages and feel your panties dig into your ass. “Now stop whining and try to get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you after I’m done with the rest of my patients.”

“Kay,” he grumbles. You turn to discreetly try to pick your wedgie, and before you make it out the door he grins at you. “I like your thong by the way.”

Part 1

Tag list : @moonandflowersfairy @kiraakaashi @gojoscumslut

i love this with my entire being yes i love you all too and i love him yes this is the best thing ever yes

Hc that Shinichiro loves listening to ABBA and its almost always playing in his shop

Wdym headcanon

He exclusively listents to classic rock music and ABBA. Top 2 fave movies are Grease and Mamma Mia. He told me.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME WHAT PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS WHAT

i swear… fresh outta jail kazutora who’s been longing to loose his v card and fuck OR being fucked by a chick and then theres you. chifuyu’s beloved gf. one time he saw you sucking fuyu off under the table and since then he just wanna try it with you but he can’t let his desires crept into him cause you’re fuyu’s gf after all! but best bros share their hoes right?? am i right?? so chifuyu would probably let tora loose his virginity over you at the end of the day