Earthferie

| room-mate itachi hcs: | genre: fluff/smut |

a/n: it’s clear that i’m obsessed w this man and i love writing him even if its pure word vomits. writing him comforts me sm!! <3 blorbo for life!

let’s say ya’ll shifted together because he recently needed to escape from his toxic ex who he was living with :3

he would always respect your personal space, your room, he isn’t going in unless you are present in the house. your stuff? he isn’t touching it unless he specifically asks for permission. your pets? HE IS TOUCHING THEM OKAY? omfjsgsjs this is self indulgent but your cat = his cat. you can’t really deny his doe eyes when he asks, “can i play with her?” and the cat also softly nuzzles against itachi’s feet <3

laundry 👀 i headcanon he reserves the weekends for laundry and would gladly add your clothes in the pile. there was one time you added his white shirt with your pink hoodie in the wash. ever since then, he does NOT trust you :3 “please, next time. let me tend to this one y/n” he is pouty about it but won’t lash out on you.

it takes you two a few months to get comfortable with each other. before, if he was cooking something; he would ask you if you’d want a share. “y/n. i’m preparing some sushi. would you want it?” now… however; things are changed. he is comfortable enough to sit next to you in your bedroom, play around with the chopstick and give you the first bite. “you like it?” if you nod then he would give you the bowl/plate he’s holding and get himself another share from the kitchen. <3

you don’t need to get embarrassed because of your period. he saw you being territorial about the washing area once, ordering him to leave you alone cause you had stained bedsheets. he leaves you be. coming to you later with a cuppa of hot chocolate. “there we go,” he mumbles, adding a few roasted marshmallows in it and flicking your forehead. “don’t worry about it and don’t act so prude next time, y/n.” he smiles, winking at you.

things are pretty normal at first. he is fine with your friends/flings visiting you. you are fine with his friends visiting him. he has a lot of flings in the beginning but never tells you any details about him when you ask. saying, “unimportant recreational things should be better forgotten,”

would probably ask you out after he realizes he is getting extremely jealous of the male friends you have. suddenly a normal game of truth and dare over drinks/never have i ever over booze. only annoys him. you had a dare once to kiss the guy beside him, but itachi held you by the nape of your neck and shoved his tongue inside you, kissing you fervently in a drunken haze.

would probably ask you on a formal date the next day, apologising for any boundaries crossed. >:3 best boyfriend okay?

you have tasks divided, you bring the groceries, he cooks mostly. you clean the drawing room, he cleans the kitchen area. since he is an early bird, you ask him to wake you up on certain days. never wakes you up without a steaming cup of coffee along with croissants. <3 he is a man of class duh 🙄

whenever you have any arguments it is because sometimes he can be quite peculiar about things being done only in a certain way. he is the king of cold shoulder but eventually gives in.

once you two start dating he is happy to sleep in your room, happy to lull you into sleep after rearranging your guts :3; you tease him about it saying, “now i know why the girlies swarmed here like bees,” and he can be pretty smooth when needed, smiling tenderly. “well, now i gave the queen bee with me.”

has heard your pretty moans once or twice while you were masturbating and doesn’t want to address the dull throb on his semi, the gulps of patience and restraint it took him..

cw: dom/sub dynamics, kind of mean draken, fleshlights, spanking, degradation, spit. lots of it. not sry.

draken having to come up with new ideas to punish you because you’re enjoying yourself far too much. and yeah, he won’t lie, he does enjoy putting you in your place. but you’ve taken it too far this time. hands all over inui while you were waiting for him to finish closing up shop. acting all stoic, and blank faced. you’ve made your bed, now it’s time to lay in it.

The silence leaves your heart racing. He was never a very talkative person, always preferred to listen to your rambling. But when you’re in the car prattling on about your day like usual, and you’re only met with hums of acknowledgement and grunts in agreement— you know you’ve pushed him too far. The lack of warmth on your thigh where his hands usually rests leaves your stomach in knots, fingers twiddling anxiously as you pull into the driveway of your shared home.

“Ken—

“Bedroom. You know how I want you laid out for me. Be good, don’t make this harder on yourself.”

You open the door yourself (another sign that he was really angry this time. he always opened your doors for you) quickly walking inside. You shed your clothes once you enter your room, plopping your pillow onto the floor before resting there on your knees. You perk up once he enters the room, eyes wide as he takes you in. He glances over you, but is quick to move into the closet. Your breath hitches at the lack of acknowledgment. When he enters the room again he’s clad only in sweats, tossing items onto the bed before standing in front of you. Your core heats at the intimidation. He was always so big, but he seemed even larger like this. Standing at his full height while you’re kneeled before him.

“Open,” he commands, hands resting on his hips. You do as told, tongue falling out as you present yourself to him. A harsh glob of spit is lodged into your tongue, so harsh that some of it spreads to your cheeks. He holds your jaw lightly, squeezing. “Swallow.” You do so quickly, opening your mouth again to show him. “Good. So you haven’t forgotten all of your manners.”

“Ken—

He squeezes your cheeks roughly a harsh spat filling the room as he spits onto your face. The hand on your jaw is quick to move, spreading it across your. “What the fuck is my name?” he asks harshly. “Daddy,” you whimper, “daddy ‘m sorry.” He tsks at your words, hand dropping. You whine at the lack of contact. “On the bed. Hands and knees.” You scramble to your feet, laying on the bed and arching your back the way he likes.

The bed dips as he joins you, big hands gripping your waist. There’s shuffling behind you as he sheds his bottoms. Your heart races. You trusted him with your life, but the thought of taking him unprepped had a pit of anxiety filling you. “Ken, wait. I can’t—

You’re cut off by a harsh slap to your ass, hissing at the contact. “What are your rules?” he asks. “Don’t speak unless spoken too,” you mumble. “Good,” he says, rubbing the reddened area, “what are your safewords?” You wiggle your hips, gnawing at your cheek. “Red. Or two taps to your leg if I can’t talk and four snaps if I can’t touch you.” He presses a kiss to your spine, hands rubbing up your sides. “Spread your legs,” he demands. He must sense your nerves, hand at the back of your neck turning you to face him. “Do you trust me?” he asks. “Yes, daddy,” you say quickly. “Good. Then spread your legs for me.” You do as you’re told, back dipping deeper as you spread yourself for him. There’s more movement behind you, a gasp escaping you when his tip runs through your wet folds. You whimper at the movements, hips bucking at the stimulation. He presses his tip teasingly against your entrance before pulling back.

A cool object is placed between your thighs, legs pulled together to close around it. A harsh spit is heard. A deep groan falling from his lips. His hips flush to your back. “Fuck, baby,” he moans, “feel so good.” Your breath hitches in your throat, head rearing back to look at him. Your body moves forward as his hips snap into the toy placed between your thighs, hands gripping your hips. “No,” you whimper, “daddy please. I’m sorry, daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” He smirks at you, hips picking up their pace. “You’ll take what I give you,” he growls, “behave, and maybe I’ll think about letting you cum.” Whines and cries fall from your lips, pushing back against him in hopes of the toy brushing against your neglected heat.

“Feel so good,” he moans, “so good for me. Squeezin me so tight.” Tears fall down your face, cheeks heating. The ache of hearing the praise fall to the cheap toy rather than you as he openly neglects where you need him most leaves you leaking. “So fuckin’ good,” he says, “gonna make me cum. Want me to cum in it?” he asks with a snarl. “No!” you whimper. He pauses his movements, pulling the toy from between your legs to turn you onto your back. “Aww,” he says with a faux pout, “what happened to all of that attitude, huh? Is my good girl finally back?” You whimper, nodding desperately as you reach for him. “Want me to cum in you?” he asks, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “Please daddy,” you say meekly, leaning into his touch.

“Okay, sweet girl,” he says. You keen at the pet name, nearly vibrating from the attention he’s directing at you. Your brows furrow in confusion when he enters you, stopping once his tip has breached your tight heat. “You gonna take what I give you?” You nod, but are quickly corrected by the harsh slap against your thigh. “Yes, daddy.” He mutters a small “Good,” before his hand wraps around the rest of him fisting his cock against you. You squirm, hoping to push him deeper into you. You dare not whine— protest lost in your throat in fear of him bringing the toy back out. “Need to remind you who you belong to,” he mutters, hand quickening it’s pace, “who’s pussy this is.” Groans fall from his lips as his high washes over him, hips bucking lightly into you as he pumps you full. “Who do you belong to?” he asks, softening cock still resting in you. “You, daddy. I belong to you.”

“Good girl.”

Sanzu has a checklist for you whenever he leaves.

He's meticulous. Years upon years of investigations and interrogations has hammered a methodical approach into him. And yes he's prone to breaking the rules when it suits him, but he's diligent and regimented with you.

And at first it had surprised you. Notes and calendar appointments that to your shame, you assumed he'd be the type to miss. Because you know him, and you know it isn't easy, and that the conflating mess in his head can sometimes be too much to bear. You've never said it but he likes that it doesn't hurt you, or that you know him enough to know just exactly how he is.

This time, upon leaving, he loads his gun, double checks his pockets, Pats down his waistcoat, finger's lightly the chain around his neck, platinum silver that had been a present from you some time past, as if it tethers him here, as if he can't bear to leave.

He asks for the umpteenth time if you'll be ok without him and you reply, half laughing that it's only for a week, that he'll be back soon, that really, you can call every night if he wants to.

But sanzu is meticulous and it takes assurances to calm him, to make him believe you'll be there when he returns. He worries, you know this, you love him for it.

'And remember, take your vitamins after dinner, I'll send you a reminder every day if I can.' A kiss to your forehead here, because it means a lot for him, because he knows you're prone to forgetting. And really, it doesn't matter to him, that he drowns in pills often, alcohol that never sates the pain, but you're perfect in a way little else is, and he's done enough learning to know you, to fit you like a glove.

He's never been one for effort with the others, but he likes that he can make it with you.

'Don't tell me you're worried Haru,' you say, teasingly, even as the flush creeps along your skin. You touch the diamond scars on his mouth, painted nails that smooth over the indentation of pink, softly, catching on his full lips to trace the dip of his chin.

He rolls his eyes, albeit with mirth and takes your wrists in his hands. 'Behave yourself princess. You don't want to be punished for disobeying me now do you?' and you catch the subtle inflection of innuendo in the glint of his jadeite gaze.

'No sir,' you say, even as the smile tugs at your lips, embarrassment that shines in the pearly reflection of his eyes.

'Mhm good girl,' he says, hands sliding to your hips, where your pelvis meets his, a subtle friction that almost has the ache welling unbidden between your thighs. 'One more thing.'

'Hm?'

His grip is stronger now, firm presses of his lithe fingers into your skin. 'You remember how to use it right? You remember what I've showed you?'

The cold icicle of a faint lingering of dread seeps into your stomach and you're reminded, just then, that he's leaving, a week away without him that'll have you keening in protest at his absence.

'I do.'

'Good girl. Remember, shoot first, questions later. You always put your safety first. You know where it is?'

'In the bedside cabinet underneath the papers.' And you like that he never hides it from you, that he knows you're strong enough in the way few others are. It doesn't stop him, meticulous worry that coats the edge of action, but you think he's gotten better and you like that he trusts this to you, as much as you do to him.

'Okay, you have the Haitani's contacts if you need them and-' and I wish I could stay, 'you'll be fine, if you remember what I've taught you.'

Suddenly it's overwhelming,this looming fear of his absence, this event which is most definitely happening despite your protest. He loves you enough, more than enough, to keep you at a safe arms length, as if his body can shield you from the pain.

'I'll remember. And Haru?'

'Yeah?'

'Be safe?' because it's important, because you need him to know he has something to come back to, something that needs him.

You, you need him, and regardless of how little he believes it,

It never stops being true.

Reblogs appreciated

Hanma is a little excessive.

He's a man of gestures and it's never not been known that he's the type to make grand entrances and exits, all flourishes and loud voices, big words and bigger actions. You like to think that's just how he is, bustling into your life to drag you along by the hand into the deep darkness of his world, that he's sharing it with you as a gift, himself and all the uncertainty he comes with.

You like it, you think of it often with trepidation when you wonder about how you can keep up with him, and if he might find someone who can run a little faster next to him, or whether he'll get tired of slowing down for your sake.

He never does and you find that, surprisingly, it never bothers him when you need constant reassurance, when you need praise and sweetness that he's more than happy to give because no matter what, you're under the assumption that you're a lot to deal with, Despite how often he'll try to convince you otherwise.

He likes to think he knows you by now, watched you change, the occasional timidity he still likes that you feel less embarrassed by now, how much more willing you are to hang onto his arm after months and months of constant self doubt. It does come back, and he's quick to quash it, smooth words, a kiss to the back of your neck when you feel like whatever he says might be a lie. It never bothers him.

Most of all though, you're acutely aware that he makes you feel prettier than you believe you are. It's in the small actions mostly.

'Who is this pretty girl hm?' he says and runs his hands along your sides, a light squeeze of your hips as he bends down to lightly nose at your neck, your hair tickling his cheek as he pulls you flush to him.

It never fails to have the heat rising to your cheeks when he behaves like that, as if he needs you, when you're more than convinced you need him ten times as much, but perhaps if you believed in yourself more, you might be tempted to think the former was true.

'You like it?' you say and turn, your pelvis brushing his as he presses himself into you, as if he can fold the two of you together. 'I bought it with your card- I hope you don't min-'

'shhhhh, you can have whatever you want, card or no sweetheart.' And he gives you a smile, quiet, softened, his lips accented by the lick of fresh and creamy sunlight pouring in through the window. 'You're my Pretty Girl, I want you to have pretty things.'

You feel guilty still, as if you're using him somehow despite how freely he gives to you. And, like always, the tears come fresh when you hear him praise you so easily, so overtly. And, like always, he believes he's done something wrong to incur this.

'Princess?' he says, a hint of worry, panic lacing the edge of his voice, his grip faltering when he tilts your chin to face him, clear freshwater tears slipping onto your new dress.

'You make me feel pretty.' It sounds silly saying it out loud to yourself, finally where he can hear it, but you think it must be true for it to ache a little whenever he says it, as if it's the first time every time, as if he believes it wholeheartedly.

'What? I don't get it sweetheart.' And he shakes his head, confusion and incredulity, a softened hand coming to cradle your cheek.

'You always say it, you always tell me I'm pretty and beautiful.'

'Because you are, why wouldn't I say it? You're my pretty girl, of course I'll tell you it.'

Maybe he's baffled by it, this much time later, at how you still can't see it, how it still surprises you, how you don't believe it when it's not empty words to him.

'And you really mean it?'

'Of course Princess, I don't know where this is coming from. You're my pretty girl aren't you?' He does know actually, these bouts of insecurity he knows you haven't beaten, assuming it bothers him to need to give reassurance so often. But he's softer with you than he believes he's capable of and it never feels like a burden to reassure you of himself when you need it.

He knows you'd do the same, have done the same.

It takes coaxing and soothing again. 'Mhm, yeah I am,' you say, a little abated for now, an errant tear wiped by his thumb, his big hands that never feel anything less than safe, anything less than reassuring, enough for you to fall into every time.

'Good girl.' And when he holds you just like that, sunlight that spills over his curls, you think you believe him for the moment. That you're pretty, that you're beautiful, that you're his Princess now and always. You know the lingering thoughts are never far, that you'll be seeing them again soon.

But you also know, with just as much- if not more surety- that he'll be there to beat them back, to soothe, to fix and run his hands over you then too. To make you feel pretty again.

reblogs appreciated!

TOKYOREV BOYS IN ONE NIGHT STANDS

CHARACTER(S): Ran . Sanzu . Rindou

WARNING/S: nsfw implications

Ran Haitani

The sun gently woke you up from your sleep, a groan followed up by a migraine, accompanied by the sinful and blissful memories from last night. Never in your sober self had you ever thought you'll hit it off with Ran, one thing led to another and you both ended up making out, later continuing to your room.

but you were not surprised to wake up beside a cold spot in bed, of course, the infamous Ran Haitani wouldn't settle for someone like you. you're just one of his another one-night stand, and you were a fool to believe that there was something between you two. a sigh escape your lips from the thought, that is until the bathroom door opened and out Ran Haitani in nothing but pants, that were hanging low on his lips, his toned stomach in display for you to see.

"you're still here?" you asked surprised, quickly averting your eyes that unconsciously traveled to his exposed skin. something Ran definitely saw but decided to ignore for now after hearing your accusation.

"did you think I left?" he asked amusedly with a playful grin, before picking up his discarded shirt and putting it on effortlessly "I'm hurt that you think so lowly of me"

you rolled your eyes, It's not just me that thinks that everyone does" he chuckled as he easily tied his tie and look for his socks, from his actions, it's easy to understand what he meant, that this between you two was just a one-night stand, it was a hopeful dream that he would settle for you.

you pouted as you gathered the blanket, "Anyways, you were probably on your way out and I just caught you leaving" your words coming out questioning as you went under the blankets to hide your red face, " Well don't let me hold you back"

it was silence at first before the blanket was rudely pulled away from you, just enough to see Ran waiting seating beside you on the bed, a playful grin adorning his lips. "you look so irresistible right now do you know that?" "hey!" you felt heat in your cheeks at Ran's seemingly calm demeanor as if teasing you. but soon drops into something serious as he pecks your lips in assurance.

"I have to leave early for a meeting" he whispered disappointedly, if he were to choose hell spend the rest of his life with you in bed.

"but trust me I'll see you tonight" he sealed with a kiss, deeper and with more emotion.

Sanzu Haruchiyo

Sanzu was a deep sleeper, that or he just didn't care as you rush in the morning gathering your clothes and putting them on, before leaving his room in a complete mess.

you started your morning, as usual, reporting and checking some stuff. the morning was so busy that you almost forgot about the night before, but images from last night kept crawling back into your mind. and when you thought that Sanzu had probably moved on with his day, he came angrily stalking towards you that very afternoon, his eyes swirling almost feral.

"If you think you can just run away and pretend nothing happened, then you're wrong" he blurted out as he rudely interrupted your conversation with one of the members, who immediately read the atmosphere and left. definitely not wanting to face the upset Sanzu. "Sanzu-san I- " "Sanzu?" he interrupted exasperatedly, looking down at you, his eyes full of so much emotion, something you don't see that often "That wasn't my name last night unless you need reminding of then I'll be more than happy to take you h-"

"Ha-Haru!" you immediately corrected, flustered and face flushed from the surge of memories. as you look left and right, making sure no one was around before continuing "Look what happened last night, it was an accident we both don't want, you're not under any obligation, can we just forget about it?"

"I don't want to" was his stern response as you can't help but only stare at him at the sudden seriousness of his words. gasping when he surprisingly gently cupped your chin.

"do you have any idea how long I wanted you?" he said, his breath hitting your lips as he watch your eyes flicker between his lips and eyes. a sign he only needed before pressing his lips against yours. you felt him smirk as you responded to his kiss and before you knew it you felt his arms beneath your legs before picking you up, bridal style.

"Now, that's a good girl"

Rindou Haitani

Amidst the headache and soar body, the first thing you notice when you woke up was the delicious smell of coffee and pancakes. sitting up from the bed, clutching the blanket over your naked body, the fact you're not in your room becomes apparent. it was then that the pleasant memories from the night before come rushing.

The Bonten executives had a gathering last night, and more than usual the guys ordered more drinks than they can handle. all you remember was more than half of them were drunks, the others passed out somewhere. while you and Rin somehow ended up in his room.

grabbing a clean shirt from his closet, you threw it on before making your way to the kitchen. expecting to see some take-out food or maybe Rindou will kick you out of his room right away. but to your bewilderment, there stands Rindo Haitani in his sweatpants and shirt, yet looking good, behind a stove, a spatula in one hand.

"What?" he asked after noticing you standing on the threshold, staring ridiculously at him. but one thing he noticed was how good you look wearing his shirt he quickly averted his gaze away, in fear of you seeing his red face.

"What are you doing?" you asked cautiously, now a little aware that you're basically wearing nothing except his shirt. but considering what happened last night, what's more, to be embarrassed about.

"what does it look like I'm doing?" Rin simply answered as he put the newly cooked pancake on a plate, before setting them down on the table, gesturing you to take a seat.

quietly, you sat in front of the newly cook pancake while Rin sets 2 cups of coffee. you stared at the delicious food in front of you. however, as good as it smells, you can't help but think that this food was his way of consolation before kicking you out.

"who cooks breakfast for their one-night stand" you mumbled sheepily but he heard you anyway.

"No one" He firmly said, as he sets down a cup of coffee beside your plate "Because this is not a one-night stand" your head perks up, "what?"

Rindou looked at you with a furrow on his forehead, his arms crossed against his chest, "you slept with me, you're wearing my shirt- half naked, in the middle of my kitchen"

He sighs," don't play dumb…"

"you're already mine"