[ ]

[ 𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] — 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

you may have fallen first, but rindou thinks he fell harder.

and that’s not to say you don’t love him—you love him impossibly more each day, but rindou thinks his love for you runs deeper in a way no one else’s can.

simply put: he never thought he’d love at all, and the way your heart beat is the rhythm he matches his too, the way you make the lines he draws for himself so blurred that he doesn’t know where they lie anymore, he thinks that he loves rather intensely. and perhaps you do most of the kiss initiating, and maybe you reach first for all the hand holding, and it’s true that you’ve always pressed yourself into his side before he’s wrapped his arm around your torso, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re loved any less.

but when he hears the small chuckles from the men surrounding him, downing drink after drink and losing more and more holds on their tongues as the topic of your relationship surfaces, he’s left to wonder, what really has he done to prove your love is equally reciprocated?

he decides to offer you an answer today, even if you’d never even asked.

“stand here,” rindou grunts, standing you in front of the mirror and turning you to look into it. you furrow your brows, tilting your head to the side as he unbuttons his shirt, opening the top to reveal his toned chest. eyeing the exposed skin, you gulp.

“why’re you undressing in front of the mirror with me watching?” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“stop being horny,” he grumbles.

“‘m not,” you pout, crossing your arms. “you’re the horny one, not me, rin. now what are you doing?” there’s a shine to his skin you notice from the distance, squinting through the mirror to get a better look, but he angles his body away so you can’t see.

“would you just listen?” he snaps, huffing. “close your eyes.”

“huh? why?” groaning, he rubs his face, looking at you with a tired expression. he doesn’t understand why you always insist on being so difficult—it’s a simple direction to follow, really, and he’s just trying to do something sweet for you.

“why don’t you listen to me and find out? you wanna hear it in a different language or something? close your eyes,” he demands, reaching over and pressing his hand over your face—albeit softly—to cover your line of sight. huffing, you close your eyes like he asks, instinctively grabbing his wrist and holding on.

“okay, okay. i closed them, you’re so pushy,” you mumble, and he purses his lips, staring at you for a moment. and for the longest time, he’s wondered why your penchant to talk back has always made him want to hear more of your voice instead of throw you across the room—though right now, he realizes he kind of wants to do both.

but more than anything, he wants to prove to you that he does love you, that it’s not an empty claim with no emotions to back it up. slowly, he removes the clear bandaging over the new tattoo inked on his skin, right on his collarbone as you shuffle impatiently for him to finish.

“no peeking,” he warns. “i’m serious.” groaning, you slump your shoulder, pout deepening that he knows you so well. he fights back a small grin, rolling his eyes at you.

“you’re taking so long,” you whine. it’s been thirty seconds at most—and you often have it in you to be one for theatrics, but he can’t really say he hates it. with one last tug, the bandage comes free, and rindou takes your hand and brings you into his chest.

“keep them closed,” he breathes, whispering the words against your forehead as he presses one, two, three kisses along your cheeks and jaw, stopping to nibble on your ear lightly. “i love you,” he says simply.

and it’s not fancy, it never really is, and it likely won’t often be, but it’s perfect no less. it’s raw, and unadulterated, and it’s rindou—and that’s exactly what you signed up for.

you smile against his chest, trailing a hand up and rubbing the smooth skin slowly, fingers tracing over the lines of his existing tattoo that you know by heart after all this time.

“i love you too,” you whisper. “is this all you’re gonna do? because you didn’t have to undress with me in front of the mirro—”

“you never stop talking, do you?” he mutters, but still, there’s a fondness in his voice that you couldn’t misplace even if you tried. and rindou’s not fond of too many things—he barely tolerates most of them, but he enjoys you. he basks in your presence, he drinks in the moments he steals with you, engraving them in the deepest crevices of his brain.

you’ve shoved your way into his life and you’ve made your mark, and he thinks it’s about time he shows you that.

“i’m gonna open my eyes without your permission if you keep being mean,” you warn, and he flicks your forehead, making you swat his hand away. the frown on your face tempts him to press a kiss to your lips.

instead, he tilts your head towards his collarbone.

“okay, open,” he finally says, and you don’t hesitate, opening your eyes and searching for whatever it could be he wants to show you. and you can’t miss it, not even if you’d wanted to.

in perfect, neat, simple writing, reads your name across his skin, inked freshly over his collarbone. your eyes widen, staring at the letters in disbelief as he smirks down at you slightly.

“is that…did you…you really got—”

“speechless, huh?” he smirks wider, and the expression makes you want to shove him away. and maybe you would, if it weren’t for his arms around your waist, keeping you firmly in place. “can never form a full sentence around me, can you?” he asks in a cocky voice.

“would you shut up for one second?” you spit, narrowing your eyes at him. “how are you gonna be so insufferable even when you’re trying to be romantic?”

“i’m already romantic,” he glares, flicking your forehead once more, and you move to bite his retreating fingers, making him stare at you in disbelief as you smile smugly at him. “i’m getting this covered up first thing tomorrow,” he grunts. giggling, you wrap your arms around his neck, and suddenly, your eyes go soft—and he hates to admit that he exhales shakily at the sight.

“what’s the occasion? this surprise, i mean,” you murmur. shrugging, he looks at your chin instead of your eyes—or maybe your lips, at this point you’re not entirely sure.

“wanted to show you i love your annoying ass. and that you’re mine,” he adds at the end, a little more emphasis at the statement, making your heart beat erratically. and you wonder if he’s ever noticed that increase in rhythm—because it’s all he’d need to know that his statement is true in all of its entirety.

“you…you tattooed my name on your chest so you could claim me as yours? that’s a little possessive…i love it,” you grin, poking his cheek. “that’s real sexy.”

“i do not want you or this anymore,” he says blankly. “i’m getting rid of it—” and suddenly, he’s cut off and being kissed. hard.

your hands gently cradle his face, pressing your lips hard onto his as you move impossibly closer into his embrace. and if you didn’t know by now that haitani rindou is utterly in love with you, enamored by your entire existence—you certainly do after this, and you hope he knows that the feelings are completely mutual.

“i love you,” you whisper, pulling away. “i love this, and i love you.” he grips your waist tightly.

“i love you too,” he mumbles.

“i know,” you nod, and the tiniest sliver of relief floods his chest. “you’re so obsessed with me, you got it written in bold,” you say with a wide grin. and if he didn’t love your stupid smile and your stupid voice so deeply, he’d hate the cockiness in your demeanor.

“never thought i’d regret a tattoo so soon,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

and this time, when your lips curl into a pretty little pout, he does kiss them, again and again and again—just so he’s sure you know the answer to the question you never had to ask.

this is for ris, always the y/n in my rindou stuff. here’s the tattoo you wanted him to get bae <3

don’t you kiss her, ‘cause it’s me on her lips

f!reader. friends w benies. mentions of guns n shooting. masterbation. oral (f -> m). rin wearing a wife beater. hate fucking. face fucking. spanking. dirty talk. recording. “good + pretty girl” possessive rin. creampie. mentions of death/killing. a lot more dirty talk.

featuring - haitani rindō

🏷 - @kshira @myeternalyearning @kentimestwo @solzu @r-indou @drakens-pet @wakaslut @draekn

two rin fics back to back m actually obsessed this is actually fucking sick + thank u guys again for 600,, uhhh yeah wc: abt 1.7k nd after this it’s back to the sub agenda fr ++ ty luna for beta reading ily

Seguir leyendo

WARMER | RYUGUJI KEN

you cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself a little bit as another wave of goosebumps run down you, and you come to the aggravating revelation that your weather app is a liar.

“sure you’re good?” mitsuya asks beside you, chuckle lacing his voice, sending an amused glance in your direction as he averts his attention from the fight a few yards away.

“i’m fine,” you huff, frowning at the way your voice wavers and even more so when mitsuya just laughs again before turning his attention back forward. you try to follow his lead, focus on the way takemichi is punching some guy in the face. a weak attempt to ignore your shivers.

it wasn’t supposed to be cold today. sure, fall has started and the temperature is dropping, but when you checked the broadcast before coming it wasn’t supposed to be too bad. maybe chilly enough that you should’ve brought a light jacket, but warm enough that you would be fine without it.

it was supposed to be decent, not freezing.

there’s a few swings here, some half asses punches there, the occasional failed kick thrown in, and suddenly you’re too bored to use the little training match as a distraction to combat your dilemma. you shiver again, rubbing at your arms, and suddenly a figure comes into view on your left.

when you look up you’re met with the eyes of draken, blank expression save for the slight crease in his brow as he stares down at you. his bangs hang in his eyes, blowing slightly as a breeze drifts through.

“hey, kenny,” you smile, sheepishly you must admit, as you try to choke down the chattering of your teeth.

he looks at you a second longer, gaze burning all the way into your soul it feels like, before he turns his attention to the center of the makeshift fight ring that’s going on.

“dumbass,” he mumbles, low and deep, as he looks onward.

“rudeass,” you counter. a pout tugs at your lips and if your arms weren’t already crossed over your chest then this would be the perfect timing to do so.

“it’s not rude if it’s true.” and you want to punch him, take him out in that ring instead, because can’t he see you’re suffering enough here without his berating?

“that doesn’t even—whatever. besides i’m fine, so.”

“pfft yeah,” draken scoffs, turns his eyes down at you again as the edges of his lips quirk up into the faintest signs of a smirk. “shivering to death. totally fine.”

“i’m going to stab you,” you threaten, narrowing your eyes up at him, trying to seem as intimidating as possible with your glare.

then draken leans down, bends at the waist until he’s at your level, eyes never once leaving yours even as he gets closer, right in your little bubble. it feels static almost, and you can feel him without even needing to touch. his breath is warm as it fans across your face when he opens his mouth.

“get in line, sweetheart.”

and he grins now, completely open and oh so charming as mikey calls the fight and tells draken to show the boys how it’s really done. he slips the jacket from his shoulders and drapes it over yours before making his way towards the ring. he looks back to you, smug expression too attractive for his own good, cant of his lips a bit too cocky for your liking.

“and hey,” he calls, rolling his shoulders out as he steps one foot into the ring, “keep that warm for me, yeah?”

you roll your eyes at him, but even your annoyance can’t stamp down the smile that tugs the edges of your lips as fully bury yourself into draken’s jacket.

and maybe you do cheer as he sends the first punch to his opponent’s gut. and maybe you are just a tad bit too excited for practice regimen spars. and maybe you actually shush mitsuya as he tries to make a cheeky remark because you’re too focused on the blond kicking ass a few yards away from you.

none of that matters now though, because the shivering has stopped, the goosebumps are gone, and you’re warmer.

but you aren’t too sure that’s from the jacket.

reblogs appreciated !

Toshihiro Kawamoto Art Works - The Relucent 2006-2020 Art Book

HEHEHDBND CHIFUYU CAR SEX HELP YOUR TAGS TSKING ME OUT DHJS THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORK HENDNDMDMDMX

NAAAA THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME LITERALLY TOOK ME TF OUT

IT WAS SO GOOD TASTY GOOD SOUP

DLELWLJEKWKD