Summary: You're their girlfriend and they are a bit too much in love with you.
Warnings: fluff, crack, a bit insecure(?)reader, random bitches bitching.
Characters: Mitsuya Takashi, Sano Manjiro/Mikey, Hanemiya Kazutora, Hanma Shuji, Baji Keisuke.
A/N: Please don't bash me but writing/reading fics for characters like Darken, Daichi, Nanami feels illegal too me—
It starts when you swing by the sewing club to bring Mitsuya lunch. You’re used to his popularity—he’s kind, reliable, and honestly way too pretty for his own good. But today, the moment you walk in, you feel it. The stares.
Three girls are huddled together, whispering and not-so-subtly giving you the side-eye as Mitsuya beams the second he spots you.
“[Name],” he says warmly, wiping his hands on a cloth before coming over to hug you. He takes the lunchbox with an exaggerated sigh of happiness. “My lifesaver. What would I do without you?”
You can hear the whispers now.
“Of course she brought him food.”
“She’s not even that cute…”
“He deserves someone way better.”
It stings—more than you want to admit. You manage a smile for Mitsuya, but your chest feels tight.
He notices instantly. Mitsuya always notices. His lavender eyes flick toward the girls, then back at you, and you can see the irritation flicker beneath his calm exterior. But instead of addressing them directly, he takes your hand.
“Come here,” he says gently, pulling you closer. His arm slips around your waist as he leans down, brushing his lips against your temple—deliberate, soft, intimate.The sewing club goes dead silent.
“You okay?” he murmurs just for you, his voice low enough that only you can hear.You hesitate, then whisper back, “…they don’t like me much.”
Mitsuya pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. His expression softens, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t care if they like you. I love you. That’s all that matters.”
Before you can even respond, he kisses you—right there in front of everyone, unhurried and sweet. When he pulls away, he’s grinning, completely unbothered by the daggers being stared into your back.
“They’ll get over it,” he says simply, holding your hand tightly in his. “Because you’re mine, and I wouldn’t trade you for the world.” The girls look like they’ve swallowed lemons, but Mitsuya doesn’t even spare them a glance. His whole focus is on you, and the way he squeezes your hand makes the sting fade instantly.
“Now,” he says with his usual cheer, “tell me what you packed me for lunch. I’m starving, babe.” And just like that, with his quiet reassurance and shameless affection, the only thing you feel is warmth.
It’s a sunny afternoon, and somehow you’ve found yourself stuck babysitting the entire Toman founding crew because Mikey insisted you all should “hang out like family.” Which is why you’re now seated in the park, surrounded by chaos.
Mikey is lying across your lap, shamelessly using your thighs as a pillow while eating a taiyaki you bought him. Draken’s scolding him, Baji is already yelling about nothing, Mitsuya is trying to keep the peace, and Kazutora… well, Kazutora looks like he’s about two seconds away from picking a fight with a random pigeon.
“You know…” Draken sighs, watching Mikey happily munch on the sweet, “she’s not your personal chair.” Mikey tilts his head up at you, flashing his most innocent grin. “But she likes when I sit here, don’t you, babe?”
You roll your eyes, but Mikey’s puppy-dog eyes are impossible to resist. “You’re heavy.” “Lies.” He sits up dramatically, pointing at you with the tail of his half-eaten taiyaki. “I’m light as a feather. An angel, even.”
“Angel?” Baji bursts out laughing so hard he nearly drops his snack. “You? More like a gremlin who steals all our food!”
“I’m not a gremlin!” Mikey protests, turning to pout at you. “Tell him, [Name]. Tell him I’m cute.” Kazutora squints. “You are kinda like a gremlin, Mikey…”
“Et tu, Kazutora?” Mikey gasps in fake betrayal, clutching his chest like he’s been stabbed. He slumps against you dramatically. “Wifey, they’re bullying me. Protect me!” You pat his head, biting back a laugh. “Don’t worry, Mikey. You’re my cute little gremlin.”
Mitsuyas lips twitch, trying not to laugh. “Honestly, that’s accurate.” Draken groans, running a hand down his face. “This is what I deal with every damn day.”
Mikey, of course, ignores all of them and nuzzles against your shoulder, eating the rest of his taiyaki like he hasn’t a care in the world. “You’re my favorite, [Name],” he mumbles, his words muffled with pastry. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”
And though the boys laugh, though Baji immediately makes gagging noises and yells “Get a room!”, there’s a softness in Mikey’s eyes that makes your heart squeeze.
You kiss the top of his head, and he grins, cheeks puffed with sweet filling. “My cute little gremlin,” you whisper. “Forever your gremlin,” he says proudly—earning a chorus of groans from the entire gang.
You didn’t expect him to show up at your house in the middle of the night. Again.
There’s a soft tap-tap-tap at your window, and when you pull back the curtain, Kazutora’s grinning up at you like a kid caught sneaking candy, his blond-and-black hair messy, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Kazu…” you sigh, opening the window. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Mm… adventure o’clock?” he says innocently, swinging himself inside before you can stop him.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you close the window. “Maybe. But you like me anyway.”
You can’t argue with that, not when he rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at you like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth.
The next day, you find out just how clingy he can be.
You’re out walking with him when a group of girls pass by, whispering behind their hands. You catch words like “scary” and “why is she with him,” and your chest tightens.
Kazutora, however, hears everything. His smile sharpens. He turns to you, tilts his head, and says loud enough for them to hear:
“You’re mine.” He cups your face suddenly and kisses you—right there on the sidewalk, unbothered by the stares. His kiss is desperate, lingering, like he’s daring the world to take you from him. When he pulls back, you’re breathless. The girls are gone. Kazutora grins, satisfied.
“You don’t need to listen to anyone else,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back. “They don’t know me. They don’t know you. But I do. And I’m not letting you go.”
You swat his arm lightly, trying to hide your flushed face. “You could’ve been a little less dramatic, you know.” He smirks. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Later, back at your place, he sprawls on your bed with his head in your lap, staring up at you. For once, his eyes are calm.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever had,” he whispers. “I’d break the whole world before I let it take you from me.”
And though his words should sound heavy, the way he says them—soft, vulnerable—makes your heart ache with affection. You kiss his forehead, and he closes his eyes with the most peaceful smile.
You’re leaning against Shuji's bike outside a convenience store, scrolling on your phone and waiting for Hanma to come back out with snacks. He’s taking forever, probably chatting someone’s ear off.
You don’t even notice the two girls a few feet away until you hear them whispering—loud enough to make sure you hear.
“Is she really with Hanma Shuji?”
“She doesn’t look like his type at all…”
“Bet she’s just another phase for him.”
You freeze, stomach twisting. You’d expected some people to talk—Hanma’s reputation isn’t exactly quiet—but it still hits harder than you’d like.
Right then, the door jingles and Hanma saunters out, bag of snacks swinging from his fingers. His tall frame moves like a cat that knows it owns the street. He spots you instantly.
“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” he drawls, leaning down until his face is level with yours. His mismatched eyes glitter with mischief, but there’s a flicker of concern there too.
He follows your line of sight, catches the girls whispering, and his smile sharpens into something feral. In two long strides, he’s standing in front of you, looping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you flush against him.
He turns his head just enough so his voice carries. “You ladies enjoying the free show?” he says lightly, but there’s an edge under it—the kind of edge that makes people’s throats go dry.
They immediately look away, mumbling excuses and scurrying off. Hanma chuckles under his breath and turns back to you, ruffling your hair. “People are funny, huh?”
You huff, looking down. “They were saying I’m not your type.”
Hanma tilts his head, grinning, but his eyes soften. “Oh, baby. You’re not my ‘type.’ You’re my favorite.”
You blink at him. “…what?”
He laughs, loud and genuine, then leans in until his forehead presses against yours. “I don’t do types. I do people who make me feel alive. And you? You make me feel more alive than any fight ever has.”
Then, with absolutely zero shame, he kisses you right there in the parking lot—a long, slow, showy kiss that leaves you breathless. He pulls back with a smirk, licking his bottom lip.
“Let ‘em talk,” he says. “You’re with me. That means you’re untouchable.”
He hands you the snack bag, grinning wider now. “Now eat something before I start a fight just to watch you scold me.”
And somehow, with his arm slung over your shoulders and that ridiculous smile aimed only at you, the sting of the whispers melts away. Because with Hanma, you never feel small. You feel like you’re standing in the middle of a storm that’s decided to protect you instead of tear you apart.
The plan was simple: hang out at Baji’s place, watch a movie, maybe cuddle a little. The reality?
“KAZU, STOP EATING ALL THE POPCORN!”
You’re sitting on the couch sandwiched between Baji and Kazutora, who Baji oh-so-kindly invited without asking. The bowl of popcorn you made is already half gone because those two keep fighting over it like children.
“Oi! Don’t call me Kazu in front of [Name]!” Kazutora snaps, grabbing another handful.
“Don’t tell me what to do in my own house!” Baji barks back, practically diving over you to steal the bowl. You squeak as your drink almost tips over, smacking his arm.
“Keisuke! You’re crushing me!”
Immediately, Baji freezes, bowl in hand, and looks down at you with wide eyes. “Ah—shit, sorry, babe!” He carefully shifts back, scratching the back of his neck. His ears are pink.
Kazutora smirks. “Ohhh, Keisuke now, huh?”
“Shut up!” Baji snaps, throwing a kernel at him. You’re laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “You two are unbelievable.”
Baji pouts at you like a kicked puppy. “He started it!”
“I Did not!” Kazutora protests.
You shake your head and lean against Baji’s shoulder, smiling. He quiets instantly, like a switch flipped. His arm slips around you, pulling you closer, and for once he doesn’t argue with Kazutora. Instead, he mutters, almost shyly, “Don’t listen to him, okay? You’re my gir. And he’s stupid.”
Kazutora groans. “God, you’re so sappy when she’s around. It’s gross.”
Baji grins wickedly, suddenly energized. “You think this is gross? Watch this.” He turns and plants the loudest, sloppiest kiss on your cheek, making obnoxious smooching noises just to piss Kazu off. You squeal and push at him, laughing. “Baji, stop!”
“Never!” he declares dramatically, peppering your face with kisses now—nose, forehead, jaw, everywhere—while Kazutora makes gagging sounds in the background.
Finally, Baji pulls back, grinning like he just won a fight. “See? She loves it.”
And judging by the way your cheeks burn and your heart races, you can’t even argue with him.
May this kind of love attacks me;).LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!
Don’t steal,copy,edit or use my work in any form without my permission.
