Izana X Reader - Blog Posts

Hi koli i saw your request were open and was wondering if you could do a Tokyo revengers x reader (final timeline) where they have a baby and they say their first word with preferably: chifyuy, kazutora, baji, mikey, izana, rindou, shinichiro and any others you would like to include

۶ৎ. Babies First.

Tokyo Revenger Boys.

۶ৎ auth: ahhhh omg my first request in like so long, I’m actually so excited to work on this!!! Feel free to request any anime, show or movie, and any character!! :) I might make a taglist.

۶ৎ Summary: After so much back and forth to fix the feature, you’ve finally settled down—and finally had a baby. The joys of parenthood only continue and your baby says their first words.

۶ৎ: sfw | scenario | fem reader | babies/parenthood | fluff | time skipped | implied poc reader, though you could ignore the information that doesn't fit you.

۶ৎ Characters Included: Chifuyu Matsuno, Kazutora Hanemiya, Baji Keisuke, Manjiro (Mikey) Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Rindou Haitani, Shinichiro Sano, Kokonoi Hajime, Ken Ryuguji.

۶ৎChifuyu Matsuno

It’s an ordinary evening, and Chifuyu sits with the baby on his lap, his calm, logical demeanor softened by the tiny bundle in his arms. His black undercut, neatly styled, contrasts with the gentle warmth that radiates from him as he softly coos at the little one, a sense of peace enveloping the moment. The baby’s big, curious eyes stare up at him, the faintest glimmer of recognition in their gaze.

You’re nearby, watching quietly from the kitchen, as usual, keeping a close eye on the small family gathering. The baby shifts slightly in Chifuyu’s arms, their little hands reaching out, exploring, unsure of the world but finding comfort in the familiar presence of their father.

Chifuyu looks at the baby, a tender smile creeping across his face. He’s normally so composed, always the steady one, but this… this softens him, makes him feel an unfamiliar kind of warmth. “Come on,” he murmurs softly, “say something for me.”

The baby babbles incoherently for a moment, small giggles escaping their lips as they grab hold of his finger, wrapping their tiny hand around it like it’s the most important thing in the world. Chifuyu chuckles, shaking his head softly. “You’re as stubborn as your mom,” he says under his breath, smiling at the thought of you.

Then, suddenly, the baby’s little voice breaks the silence. It’s not a full word, but there’s a clear attempt to speak. “Da-da!” the baby declares proudly, their voice high-pitched but full of delight. Chifuyu freezes for a moment, his face lighting up with surprise, a hint of pride showing in his usually calm features.

You, hearing the unexpected word, laugh softly from your spot, watching the exchange. Chifuyu’s usual composed self cracks for a brief moment as he stares down at the baby in awe. “Did… did you just say ‘Dada’?” he asks, though it’s clear he’s delighted.

The baby repeats it again, this time with even more enthusiasm, “Da-da!” Chifuyu shakes his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Guess I’ll take that as a victory.”

You walk over quietly, your heart swelling at the sight of Chifuyu, who’s always so composed, now with the smallest of smiles, cradling their child with complete adoration. The baby, seeing you, reaches out with their tiny arms, making a soft noise of recognition.

“Looks like you’ve got competition,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe, your voice light and playful.

Chifuyu’s face turns slightly red, his calm demeanor returning, though the smile still lingers. “It’s just a fluke,” he mutters, though it’s clear he’s overjoyed. The baby giggles again, the sound filling the room, and Chifuyu leans in, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead. “I can’t believe you said ‘Dada’ first,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection.

The baby, oblivious to the momentous occasion, just giggles again, content in the safety of their father’s arms. It’s a simple, tender moment, but to Chifuyu, it’s everything.

۶ৎKazutora Hanemiya

The air is still, heavy with the calm that comes with the evening as Kazutora sits on the couch, a small, fragile smile on his face as he looks down at the baby resting in his arms. His long, black hair, streaked with yellow, falls lazily over his shoulders, the strands a contrast to the tenderness with which he holds the child. There’s an unfamiliar peace in his expression, a quiet moment of solace after all the chaos that’s filled his life. His usually volatile demeanor seems distant as he looks at the little one, their soft breaths the only sound between them.

You’re just a few steps away, your presence like a gentle echo in the background, keeping watch as Kazutora carefully adjusts the baby in his arms, the kind of delicate handling that surprises even him. He’s never been one for softness, always pushing against the world with a hardness that left little room for gentleness—until now. He looks down, eyes tracing the baby’s tiny hands, the little fingers wrapped around his own with surprising strength.

The baby stirs, their wide eyes blinking up at him, and Kazutora’s breath catches slightly in his chest. For a moment, it’s as if everything else—the turmoil, the chaos, the memories—fades into the background, leaving only this quiet exchange between father and child.

Kazutora’s voice is soft, almost hesitant as he speaks to the baby, a far cry from the manic energy he once carried. “Hey, little one… can you say something for me?” he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet kind of longing, though it’s not for the world outside—it’s for this fragile connection he never thought he would have.

The baby, in their own way, tries to respond, making gurgling noises that grow into more distinct sounds. Kazutora watches in silent anticipation, a rare, genuine smile creeping onto his face as the baby’s mouth moves again. It’s almost as if they’ve been waiting for the right moment to speak.

Then, with a bright, innocent giggle, the baby suddenly blurts out a word, though it’s not what Kazutora expected. “Dada!” they say, the sound coming out in a clear, high-pitched tone.

Kazutora freezes, his eyes wide in disbelief for a second. His heart lurches unexpectedly in his chest, and he looks down at the baby as though they’ve just given him the most precious gift. His expression softens, a deep and almost bittersweet tenderness settling in his gaze. “Dada…” he repeats under his breath, as though trying to wrap his mind around it. There’s a tremor in his voice, something raw and vulnerable that he doesn’t often let surface.

You can’t help but smile as you watch the moment unfold, the baby’s innocent giggle filling the room, unaware of the weight they’ve just placed on Kazutora’s heart. Kazutora’s fingers twitch slightly as he holds them closer, his past, his pain, his regret all swirling beneath the surface of this simple, unexpected moment.

The baby, sensing the comfort of Kazutora’s embrace, reaches up with their tiny hands, trying to grab at his face. Kazutora laughs softly, the sound foreign yet warm as he leans into the baby’s touch. “You’re gonna make me soft, huh?” he mutters, though there’s no bitterness in his words—only a quiet affection.

You step forward then, offering him a soft, knowing glance. Kazutora looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, everything between the two of you seems to settle. There’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze, something that says more than words ever could.

Kazutora’s voice breaks the silence, still low and almost tender. “I never thought I’d be here, y’know? This… this feels different.”

You smile gently, watching him with the baby in his arms, a sense of peace settling over you both. The moment is fleeting, but it’s a reminder—Kazutora, despite his past, is finding something he never thought he deserved.

۶ৎBaji Keisuke

The night is quiet, the soft hum of the streetlights casting a dim glow in the room where Baji sits, his wild, untamed jet-black hair falling to his shoulders in loose waves. His usual grin is absent for the moment, replaced by a look of calm as he watches the baby in his arms, who is squirming lightly, their little hands reaching up as if trying to make sense of the world around them. There’s an intensity in Baji’s eyes, but it’s not the usual fire of a fight—it’s something softer, something that only surfaces when he’s with his family.

You stand by the doorway, leaning against the frame, quietly watching the scene unfold. Baji, who is always full of energy, the type to jump into action at any given moment, seems almost frozen in this moment, the wild spark in his eyes replaced by a rare tenderness as he holds the baby close to his chest.

The baby gurgles softly, their small face scrunching in curiosity as they look up at him. Baji’s lips twitch into a small smile, but it’s different than his usual mischievous grin—it’s something warmer, more protective. “What’s going on in that head of yours, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, though a hint of his usual playful nature is still there.

The baby babbles in response, their little voice almost a melody as they stare at Baji with wide, innocent eyes. And then, as if on a whim, the baby utters a word. It’s clear and unambiguous, the word they’ve been practicing, but it’s not what Baji expected.

“Dada!” The word rings out, not perfectly clear, but undeniably present.

Baji’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usual grin falters, replaced by something almost vulnerable. He looks down at the baby, his hand resting gently against their tiny back, and the slightest breath escapes him. His fingers twitch as if unsure how to react to the sudden surge of emotion he didn’t anticipate. His heart pounds, a rush of warmth flooding through him, and despite all his bravado, there’s a crack in the tough exterior.

You smile, stepping a little closer to them, your heart swelling at the sight. “Looks like you’ve got a little fan there,” you tease softly.

Baji’s grin slowly returns, though it’s softer now, not the usual wild energy that so often defines him, but something more intimate. He leans down, his sharp canine teeth flashing briefly as he chuckles under his breath, the sound light and full of affection. “Yeah, I guess so.” He says it with his usual swagger, but it’s evident that something about the moment has shifted. This isn’t a victory he expected, but it’s a victory that matters more than any battle.

The baby reaches up toward his face, their tiny fingers brushing against his cheek, and Baji’s heart skips a beat. He looks at you for a moment, a wordless exchange between the two of you, before he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Good job,” he mutters, his voice soft but steady.

You can’t help but watch the moment unfold with a quiet admiration. Baji, the wild, adrenaline-fueled force of nature, has just experienced something that slows him down, something that pulls him out of the chaos of the world and into a simple, pure connection. The baby giggles, their tiny hands grasping for his hair, and Baji laughs too, the sound genuine and full of joy.

For a brief moment, the world outside seems distant, and all that matters is the little family in that room—the wild heart of Baji, softened and made whole in the presence of his child.

۶ৎManjiro (Mikey) Sano

Mikey sits in the quiet of the living room, the soft hum of the clock the only sound besides the gentle breath of the baby in his arms. His short, dark hair is parted neatly at the middle, the weight of the world outside this moment temporarily forgotten. The familiar carefree energy that Mikey is known for seems absent now, replaced by a tenderness he rarely shows. He’s holding the little one close, his hands steady and secure around them, the once-unshakable pillar of Toman now softened by something unexpected.

The baby stirs in his arms, their small face scrunching in confusion as they try to adjust to the world around them. Mikey watches them with a faint smile, though there’s something more complex behind his eyes. The carefree grin that usually defines him is replaced by a quiet focus, a vulnerability that he seldom allows others to see. His heart is heavy with thoughts of the past, of everything he’s lost, but in this moment, the baby offers him something pure, something he hasn’t had in a long time—peace.

The baby’s tiny hand reaches up, grasping for the fabric of his suit, their tiny fingers curling in and out as if trying to touch something they don’t fully understand yet. Mikey’s breath catches in his chest, his gaze softening. He can feel the warmth of their small body, the innocent trust they place in him without question, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of his own burdens lifts just slightly.

“Mama?” The baby says, the word coming out softly but unmistakably.

Mikey freezes. The sound is far from perfect, the baby’s voice still nasally and unsure, but it’s clear enough, and Mikey’s heart skips a beat. He blinks down at the child, his expression flickering between surprise and a strange tenderness, something unfamiliar and soft that he never expected to experience. His hand twitches, fingers tightening around the baby instinctively as if protecting them from the world outside.

You, standing nearby, catch his gaze, the understanding between the two of you unspoken. Mikey clears his throat, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances at you, trying to regain some of his usual bravado. “Guess that’s not the word I was hoping for,” he says, his tone playful, though there’s a depth to it, a warmth he’s not used to showing.

The baby reaches up again, this time grasping Mikey’s finger, their touch delicate yet insistent. Mikey smiles softly, the usual coldness in his eyes replaced with something warmer, something that speaks to the weight of the love he’s learning to give. “It’s okay, little one,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Maybe next time, huh?”

He presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary. The moment feels suspended in time, as if the world around him has faded and all that matters is this—the small, fragile life in his arms and the quiet peace they’ve brought him, in spite of everything he’s carried.

You step closer, watching the scene with a soft smile of your own. Mikey looks up at you then, his expression still soft, but now there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He may have once carried a darkness that threatened to consume him, but here, now, with his child in his arms, that darkness feels far away, as if for a brief moment, he can just be… Mikey. The Mikey who is a child at heart, who’s capable of tenderness and love even amidst the weight of his past.

With a soft chuckle, Mikey leans back slightly, his hand still holding the baby close as he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “You heard that, right?” he asks, his voice teasing but there’s something vulnerable in it too. “They said ‘mama.’ Guess I’m off the hook for now.”

You laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. Mikey’s grin widens just a little, and though it’s not the wild grin of a fighter or leader, it’s something just as genuine—something that feels like a promise, a reassurance that even with all the darkness he’s faced, he’s finding light again. And maybe, just maybe, this little one is part of that light.

۶ৎIzana Kurokawa

Izana sits in the dimly lit room, the soft hum of a guitar string resonating in the air. His large purple eyes, usually cold and calculating, are softened by the warmth of the baby in his arms. His wavy hair falls gently around his face, the strands catching the light as he adjusts the baby’s tiny body against his chest, the faint scent of plants and the soft ripple of water from the fish tank nearby offering a peaceful backdrop to an otherwise chaotic life. He had never imagined this—holding a child, one so small, so fragile in his arms. His usual detachment feels muted, replaced by a strange sense of responsibility, a sensation he’s never quite allowed himself to experience before.

The baby stirs in his arms, eyes blinking open and gaze unfocused, their small hands reaching out in curiosity. Izana’s usual composure doesn’t waver, but the faintest trace of tenderness lingers in his gaze as he watches the child, something unfamiliar surfacing beneath the layers of bitterness and coldness he’s built over the years.

The baby makes a small noise, a soft whine, their lips twitching as they try to vocalize something. Izana tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, waiting. His fingers gently caress the baby’s back, an instinctive gesture of care that surprises even him. In the silence of the room, a soft and tentative word escapes the baby’s lips. It’s not quite clear, but the intention is unmistakable.

“Dada.”

Izana freezes. His grip on the guitar tightens for a brief moment, his eyes blinking as he processes the sound, the word hanging in the air like a sudden, unexpected shift in his world. It’s simple—just one word—but for someone like Izana, who has spent most of his life surrounded by cold, violence, and manipulation, hearing such a soft and innocent utterance stirs something deep within him.

A flash of his past flashes through his mind—the loneliness, the bitterness that once consumed him. He had never felt a connection to anyone, certainly not like this. He had always been the one to push people away, to make himself unapproachable, but here, in this moment, the baby’s small hand wraps around his finger, their soft grip a reminder of something pure, something he had lost long ago—the ability to care without expecting anything in return.

He exhales slowly, his face betraying nothing but the faintest softness that only the baby could elicit from him. His hand gently lifts the child, their eyes still wide with curiosity, before he leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

“Dada, huh?” Izana murmurs, his voice quiet but not without a hint of amusement, the corners of his lips turning upward in a small, unexpected smile. It’s a rare sight, one that doesn’t appear often, but in the quiet presence of the baby, it feels more natural than anything he’s ever known. “Guess I’m not as bad as I thought,” he adds softly, almost to himself.

You, standing nearby, watch the scene unfold with a knowing smile. Izana doesn’t often allow anyone to witness such moments, but here, now, with the child in his arms, the pieces of his past—the anger, the bitterness—seem to fade into the background, if only for a moment. Izana looks up at you then, his eyes softer than usual, as if silently asking for your approval, for reassurance that he’s doing this right. That he’s not as lost as he often feels.

He doesn’t say anything more, but the warmth in his eyes speaks volumes. The man who once sought power, control, and dominance has now found something far more valuable—a sense of purpose, a bond he never thought he would have. As he looks down at the baby, his grip tightening slightly around them.

۶ৎRindou Haitani

Rindou sat on the floor of the living room, legs stretched out, his back against the couch, the afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. His pinkish-purple mullet, with its dark blue roots and tips, was damp from a shower, strands falling messily around his face. He had a lazy, almost indifferent expression as he stared at his phone, absently scrolling, but his free hand rested on the baby seated between his legs, offering a steady support as they clumsily played with a soft, squeaky toy.

The baby babbled, gnawing on the corner of the plush thing, drool soaking it thoroughly. Rindou, ever stoic, just watched, raising an eyebrow whenever the squeak got too loud. His black stud earrings caught the light, a stark contrast to the rough Bonten insignia tattoo inked boldly across his neck.

“You’re gonna drown in your own spit,” Rindou muttered, lifting the baby gently by their underarms, pulling them up into a wobbly stand on his thighs. The child stared back at him, wide-eyed, chubby cheeks flushed. Their little fists grabbed at his shirt, seeking balance, and for a moment, there was a quiet exchange—a softness that rarely found its way into Rindou’s life.

The baby blinked, their gaze fixed on Rindou’s face with intense concentration, like they were processing something far too big for their small brain. And then, out of nowhere, they let out a small, clear sound.

“Dada.”

Rindou froze.

The word was soft, tentative, but unmistakable. His blue-gray eyes snapped to the baby’s face, as though he wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard it. His normally stoic expression cracked, a rare flicker of surprise flashing across his sharp features.

“What…?”

The baby blinked again, almost as if testing the sound, and with a little more confidence, repeated it.

“Dada.”

This time, it wasn’t a fluke.

For a solid five seconds, Rindou just stared. The usual snarky, blasé attitude was nowhere to be found—his mouth slightly open, the baby still gripping his shirt tightly, unaware they’d just done something monumental.

A scoff broke the silence, but it was soft, almost disbelieving. “… No way.”

He tried to play it cool—but there was no hiding the way his lips twitched, threatening to pull into a smile.

“You’ve got shitty taste in first words,” he murmured, lifting the baby higher until their noses nearly touched. The baby, delighted with their new word, kicked their legs happily and repeated, “Dada,” with even more enthusiasm, like they knew they’d hit gold.

Rindou exhaled sharply through his nose, something warm and unfamiliar blooming in his chest. He glanced toward the hallway, as if making sure no one else was around to witness this moment of weakness.

“Yeah, yeah,” he whispered, giving in as he brushed his nose against the baby’s cheek, the smallest, almost imperceptible grin forming on his lips. “I hear you. I’m your ‘Dada,’ huh?”

The baby squealed, a high-pitched giggle, and Rindou couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped him. He was used to fights, to blood and bruises, to commanding fear—but this? This was different. And for once, he didn’t mind losing. Not to them. Not to this.

۶ৎShinichiro Sano

It was a quiet afternoon at the Sano bike shop, the scent of oil and metal lingering in the warm air. The faint sound of a wrench clinking against the concrete floor echoed through the open garage, where Shinichiro Sano sat cross-legged, lazily working on a motorcycle engine. His unkempt black hair stuck out in random directions, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the thin tendrils of smoke curling upward.

He wasn’t in any rush—never was, really. Dressed in his usual pearl-white shirt and light-washed jeans, a jacket lazily tied around his waist, he looked as effortlessly relaxed as ever. A silver chain peeked out from beneath his collar, catching the sunlight every now and then.

Nearby, his daughter sat on a thick blanket, surrounded by a mess of soft toys and teething rings. She was barely old enough to crawl properly, but that didn’t stop her from making every effort to squirm toward her father, her tiny hands grabbing at the air.

Shinichiro glanced over at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his thin lips. “You getting bored over there, sweetheart?” His voice was raspy, warm, and effortlessly gentle as he set the wrench down and wiped his hands on a nearby rag.

She responded with a string of baby babble, half-formed sounds that made no sense but filled the space with life. He watched her, enchanted by the simplest things—how her little fingers curled and uncurled, how her eyes, a perfect mirror of his own dull black ones, lit up every time he spoke.

“Hold on, hold on. I’m comin’.” Shinichiro stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, rising to his feet with a lazy stretch. He scooped her up effortlessly, holding her against his chest, her small hand immediately tangling itself in the fabric of his shirt.

“You smell like motor oil,” he murmured with a chuckle, kissing the top of her head despite the mess on his hands. “Not exactly the ideal dad scent, huh?”

As he swayed gently, rocking her out of instinct more than anything, the baby stared up at him, wide-eyed and thoughtful, her chubby cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the afternoon. She blinked slowly, as though studying him, her tiny mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something.

And then, soft as a whisper, it happened.

“…Da…da…”

Shinichiro froze.

The word was faint, breathy—so delicate he almost thought he’d imagined it. His heart skipped a beat, a strange, unfamiliar warmth surging through his chest.

“…What?” His voice came out quiet, almost disbelieving, as he pulled her back slightly to look at her properly. “What’d you just say?”

The baby blinked again, her expression pure and innocent, and as if sensing his awe, she tried again, this time stronger, more confident.

“Dada.”

Shinichiro felt something inside him break wide open.

He laughed—not his usual lazy, carefree laugh, but something softer, shakier. “You serious right now?”

Her tiny hand reached up, grabbing at the silver chain around his neck, and for once, Shinichiro felt completely helpless—in the best way possible.

“You’re not supposed to say that yet…” he whispered, though the grin on his face betrayed him completely. His thumb brushed gently over her round cheek, his eyes shining with a tenderness so deep it made his chest ache.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m your ‘Dada,’” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. “Lucky me.”

The bike shop, the tools, the cigarette smoke—none of it mattered in that moment. All he knew was the weight of his daughter in his arms, her tiny voice calling out to him, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.

And for the first time in a long while, Shinichiro felt like he truly had everything he could ever want.

۶ৎKokonoi Hajime

The city skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kokonoi’s penthouse, casting long shadows over the sleek, minimalist living room. The distant hum of traffic blended with the soft jazz playing from the speaker, creating a calm, almost surreal atmosphere.

Koko sat cross-legged on the floor, dressed down in black sweatpants and a plain white shirt, his silver-white hair loose around his shoulders. He had a glass of whiskey beside him — untouched — as he watched their daughter with that same quiet intensity he reserved for high-stakes meetings… except this was different.

She was sitting in the middle of a plush play mat, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of toys, a stuffed bunny half-chewed, and a colorful book she had zero interest in. Her soft hair fell over her round cheeks, and she looked up at him with wide, thoughtful eyes — eyes that mirrored her mother’s so distinctly that Koko sometimes forgot how to breathe when she stared at him like that.

“Pretty, aren’t you?” he murmured, a faint smile touching the corner of his lips as he leaned back on his hands. “Got that from your mom… lucky kid.”

She babbled in response, smacking the bunny against the floor with impressive determination, her little brows furrowed as though she were solving some great mystery.

Koko’s gaze softened, a rare warmth breaking through his usual cool composure.

“You’re really giving that thing a hard time,” he remarked, watching her with a mix of amusement and fascination. “What did it ever do to you?”

She paused, blinking up at him, lips slightly parted, as though she was about to say something… but instead, she dropped the toy with a dramatic flair and crawled toward him, tiny hands smacking against the polished hardwood floor.

He sat up straighter, heart giving an odd little skip — not that he’d ever admit that.

“You comin’ over here?” he asked quietly, more to himself than her.

She reached him, pulling herself up with clumsy determination, her chubby fingers grabbing a fistful of his shirt as she balanced on unsteady legs. Koko’s hands hovered near her waist, ready to catch her if she wobbled too much.

And then, she looked up at him… and with a small, clear voice, said:

“Da…da.”

Koko blinked.

For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. The word was soft, delicate, but unmistakable. His throat tightened, the glass of whiskey forgotten entirely.

“What… what did you say?” he asked, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

She stared up at him with the same serious expression, as though this wasn’t a monumental moment — just another part of her day.

“Dada.”

The second time, it hit him harder.

A sharp inhale, and then — to his surprise — a soft laugh escaped him, the sound rough and disbelieving.

“You—” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to ground himself. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

She, of course, said nothing. Just continued to stare at him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt like she had no intention of letting go.

“First word, huh?” Koko said, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “And it’s me…”

Something in his chest ached — something he hadn’t felt in years. He thought of how, for so long, he’d believed everything important in his life slipped through his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on. But here she was… holding onto him.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he whispered, brushing a gentle hand over her soft hair.

She leaned forward, her head resting against his chest in a way that made his heart squeeze painfully.

“I should tell your mom,” he murmured, though he made no move to get up. “She’s gonna want to hear this…”

But he didn’t. He just stayed there, holding her, listening to the quiet rhythm of her breathing, as though he was afraid to break the spell.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, sleepily this time, as if testing the word.

Koko closed his eyes for a long moment, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, the faintest smile on his lips.

“Yeah…” he whispered. “I’m your Dada.”

And for once, there was nothing else he needed.

۶ৎKen Ryuguji

The rain tapped lightly against the windows, casting soft shadows across the small but cozy apartment. The scent of warm tea and baby powder lingered in the air, a comforting mix that made the place feel lived-in — loved.

Draken sat on the floor, back against the couch, his long legs stretched out, and their daughter nestled comfortably between them. His strong, calloused hands were gentle as he helped her balance, her tiny fingers grabbing at the hem of his patterned jacket with the determination of someone on a mission.

“Steady now, princess,” he murmured, his deep voice softer than usual, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

She had her mother’s eyes — there was no denying it. That same soft, soulful gaze that could stop Draken in his tracks, no matter how tough he tried to act. The resemblance was almost eerie, especially when she stared up at him with that thoughtful, almost knowing expression, as if she could see right through him.

“You’re gonna be a heartbreaker, you know that?” he teased, running a hand over his buzzed undercut, the dragon tattoo on his temple stark against his skin. “Just like your mom…”

His daughter, of course, was unimpressed. She was too busy trying to pull herself up, grabbing at his jacket with clumsy determination, her chubby legs wobbling as she straightened herself.

Draken arched a brow, watching her with a mix of amusement and quiet pride. “Look at you… tough little thing,” he muttered. “Didn’t get that from her.”

She babbled something incoherent, rocking back and forth on her feet, her lips forming shapes that almost sounded like words.

“Yeah?” Draken chuckled, leaning in closer, his braid falling over his shoulder. “What are you tryin’ to tell me, huh?”

She paused then, swaying slightly before gripping his jacket tighter. For a split second, Draken thought she was about to fall — his hands twitched, ready to catch her — but she steadied herself, blinking up at him with wide, serious eyes.

And then…

“Da…da.”

Draken froze.

The word was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it hit him like a punch to the gut.

“What…?”

She said it again, clearer this time, her small voice filling the room in a way that made the air feel heavier.

“Dada.”

Draken stared at her, his heart pounding in a way he hadn’t felt since his gang days. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say — wasn’t sure if he could say anything at all.

“You…” He swallowed hard, his voice rougher now, a little hoarse. “You just—”

Before he could finish, she took an unsteady step forward and fell right into his chest, her tiny arms wrapping around him as best as they could.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, her voice muffled against his shirt.

And that… that broke him.

Draken closed his eyes, his large hand cradling the back of her head as he held her close, his thumb brushing over her soft hair. The warmth of her small body against his made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t prepared for — a deep, protective kind of love that scared him more than any fight ever had.

“Yeah…” he whispered after a long moment, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his voice softer than it had ever been. “I’m your dad…”

He stayed like that for a while, holding her, feeling her small breaths against him. He didn’t call for her mom — not yet.

This moment was his. Just for now.

𝟔:𝟏𝟖

‣ Gn!reader, smut, bonten au, time-skip characters, biting, mentions of marking, desk sex. EIGHTEEN YEAR OLDS, MINORS, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

❥ @harufilms @em-plosion

Bonten!Izana that runs the gang alongside Mikey. Both formed it after Shin's death at the hands of a rival gang. Running an established criminal organization this early in his adult life has made Izana more mature, more grounded.

Bonten!Izana with his gang tattoo in the middle of his back. It ripples as he delivers ruthless blows to Bonten's enemies, it's surrounded by a littering of scars fresh and old that mar tanned skin.

Bonten!Izana who's always dressed to the nines in the finest of clothes. Well tailored suits that fit his lithe frame, evening wear woven from the softest silk and jewellry that glitters even under the lowest of lights.

Bonten!Izana with his long locks of stark white hair, it falls to his shoulderblades and curls at the end. He tries his best to keep it out of his way during altercations, keeps it secure with hairties varying in different colors and sizes. Definitely not a stranger to spending nights with a bottle of conditioner and a comb getting out blood from silken tresses.

Bonten!Izana with all of West and South Tokyo under his thumb, his to control. Likes to drive one of his many cars down the streets whenever he can to keep an eye on things. He's even slightly friendlier to the kids that run up to him; Ran tells him it's because his eyes get softer around them and he always takes the little gifts they give him.

Bonten!Izana who found a family in his gang. He finds peace—though he'd never admit it—in the once mandatory but now pleansantly routine breakfast meetings and sporadic nights off. Takes quiet joy in replacing the strawberry syrup candy sticks Mikey keeps in his office, with celery sticks. The soft spot that continues to grow for his younger brother let him allow the younger to occasionally eat it with peanut butter.

Bonten!Izana who spends countless sleepless nights in his office, the stunning view of the city never failing to remind him why this was all necessary. He enjoys the silence sometimes; he loves and respects his men, grateful for the deafening quiet they always fill but there are times he likes hearing himself think.

Bonten!Izana who's definitely not afraid to get his hands dirty in order to reach his goal, stumbles into your private practice late one night. Keeps his sharp eyes trained on you as you suture his split knuckles and apply ointment to his bruises. Then he keeps coming back.

Bonten!Izana who leaves a gift basket and card on your desk for you to find the next day then shows up again later that night. He comes alone and doesn't say much, just likes looking at you. He smirks when he sees that it makes you nervous having him so close especially when he smells really good.

Bonten!Izana who can't get enough of you, tries to see you at least once a day. His chest squeezes whenever he comes to your practice after a brawl and sees the worried look on your face the entire time you patch him up. Couldn't resist kissing your frown away.

Bonten!Izana whose kiss threatens to steal the breath from your lungs, lets you grip onto his coat to keep your knees from buckling. Ring clad fingers grip your chin as his lips connect with yours, drinking down your whines as your tongue licks at the seam of his mouth. He didn't think he'd ever have a favorite flavour of lipgloss until after he met you.

Bonten!Izana who takes you for the first time at your office, bending you over your own desk. He kicks your legs apart and drags the crown of his cock over your twitching centre, relishing in your impatient whines for more. He's groaning into your ear at the way you clutch around his length while begging for him to go faster.

Bonten!Izana whose teeth sink into your shoulder when your tight little hole threatens to drain him dry. The veins on his shaft rub against your velvet walls, drawing pleasured gasps and quiet whines from his throat as his very long and pretty cock nails your sweet spot.

Bonten!Izana whose signature earrings and pretty gold chain dangles in your face when he flips you onto your back. Orchid purple eyes dazzle at the way you come apart underneath him, all shaking limbs and quiet pleas to keep going.

Bonten!Izana who needs your gentle touch to clean his wounds and scratches but loves when you leave your own marks. "Gonna fuckin' kill me, sweetheart." He cursed into your ear the first time you dragged your stiletto nails down his back, drawing red welts to the tanned skin as he fucked into you with a pace that stung when your skins met.

Bonten!Izana who was admittedly afraid you'd turn him away when you found out he was in Bonten. But, he was pleansantly surprised when he felt your tongue trace the outline of his gang tattoo, couldn't stop himself from grinding his hips into the mattress while your pretty mouth sucked hickeys around it.

Bonten!Izana who loves showing you off. He'll take you to any event the first chance he gets, will take you shopping himself and even let you choose something for him. He knows you have money, loves getting you more of it and loves helping you make your own, will spend his own money on you without question.

Bonten!Izana loves that Kakucho and the others treat you like one of their own and loves that you've welcomed them all with open arms. They got suspicious of his whereabouts and followed him to your place, where they saw him bringing you flowers and food as an apology for missing a date. The gang was too stunned to speak.

Bonten!Izana who can't get enough of the fact that you want nothing else but to love him and be loved wholeheartedly in return. He lives for the happiness in your eyes when he agrees to spend five more minutes in bed with you.

Bonten!Izana who would burn cities down to keep his empire warm for you.

© 2021 by iz-ana ━ all rights reserved. plagiarism and sending recommendations beyond this platform is strictly prohibited.

~Readers s/o being neglectful~ Warnings: Cheating, alluded death and violence

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Izana had known your scum bag of a partner for some time now. Having one of his subordinates follow them, Izana’s heard how they barely gave you any of their time, spending it hooking up with your friends behind your back. Izana would watch you try to stay up for your partner on late nights, unaware of the things he was doing, feeding you lies about doing overtime at work. It disgusted Izana how foolish you were to not see this, even with Izana being right at your side when you expressed your worrying relationship. There were so many times when he had to hold himself back from just taking you away, taking you for himself where he could properly love you. He refrained, of course, that route was too easy for him, opting to take the more relishing way of making you hate your partner and go to him.

When he shared with you the pictures he had of your partner rubbing up against one of your friends, he knew you would be mad, but he didn’t think he’d d be able to hear you so clearly from outside your home. Izana was waiting outside, hearing you yell at your now ex. You opened the door with glossy eyes and saw Izana waiting there for you in front of a car. He opened the door as you silently got in, soon followed by Izana. He cradled you close as you buried your face into his chest, mumbling that you wanted to kill your ex for what he did to you. Who was he to disagree with that? 

Once you were safely tucked into Izana’s bed fast asleep, he quietly left the penthouse. Kakucho and the rest of Tenjikus executives waiting for him dead set on tracking down your ex and friend for hurting you. Rest assured that you would never hear from them again. Only ever seeing their faces appear on the news above the headline missing.

Mikey noticed how whenever you were with your partner, you always had this sad yearning look in your eyes. He also noticed how your partner would never look your way when you were on a ‘date’, which you couldn’t even call a date by how your partner would always bring their friends and not even notice you standing by their side. Whenever he would bring up your relationship you always said that you loved them, not knowing the lustful looks they gave other people. Mikey was infuriated that he wished to have the same thing your partner took for granted, thinking of all the ways he could and would treat you better.

Mikey would slowly talk to you about how you deserved someone better than your current partner, slowly getting more solid proof that your partner was unfaithful until he could fully convenience you that they were cheating on you. No worries though, Mikey would be there for you to cry on when you inevitably broke down, melting into his embrace that you had been deprived of for so long. Taking advantage of your mentally weakened state, Mikey would slowly start telling you of how he has been there comforting you during lonely nights, how he could treat you so much better, just be with him.

Little did you know that as the two of you cuddled together, you having cried yourself to sleep, Mikey had sent a text with a picture of s/o and an address to Draken. Putting detailed instructions on how he wanted him to only rough your ex up a little before he could properly deal with them. You never knew what came of your ex, Mikey never mentioned them again anyway so neither did you.

Tokyo revengers basic NSFW headcannons pt. 2

Characters- Taiju, Inui, Koko, Ran, Rindou, Sanzu, Izana, Shinichiro, Wakasa, Benkei, Takeomi

Read the first part here

Proofread by my lovely partner @nxll-n4m3

Taiju-

Chat I think we know. I think we KNOW this man has a MONSTER cock chat. Ain't nobody arguing that. He's 6'5" and built like a fucking 18 wheeler, yeah no question he's hung. 8.7. and I KNOW that's unethical. Trust me, he knows it too. And he'd be more cocky about it if it didn't dissuade almost everyone from even attempting to take that. I feel like he wouldn't have much, if any experience. I can see him sleeping around a teensy bit to relieve stress and then getting really guilty about it. But then again, he's a very pious man, so I can also absolutely see him saving himself for marriage (though he might cheat a teensy bit with oral or mutual masturbation) speaking of which, this man is SO guilty about falling for a guy. You're gonna have to deal with the world's most internalized homophobe ever. Religious trauma is a hell of a thing. A swift topic change, grooming. I don't see him caring much, but he will tidy it up a bit if you want him to. All while very loudly grumble curses under his breath of course. Long, thick, black and surprisingly not all that curly.

Seishu-

He gives me the vibe of someone who can be surprisingly subby if he trusts you enough. But he'd need to REALLY trust you to be that vulnerable in your presence. He's absolutely a switch and I don't think he actually has much of a preference, apart from the fact that he's more top and dom leaning the less he knows you. Then again, he has to trust you a fair amount to get into bed with you anyways, this boy does not sleep around even a little. Actually he hates the idea and finds it a little scumbaggy. As for physical description, pretty middle of the road both in size and grooming. 6.2-3, absolutely a grower and not a shower. His cock is the same really pale colour as his skin. He keeps himself a little tidy down south, but can't be bothered to give it more than a trim every now and again. Wispy and blonde, honestly looks almost white in the right lighting.

Koko-

Fancy rich boy smells like fancy rich soap and fancy rich cologne. Nah jk, that man wears perfume not cologne, and honestly, more power to him, he pulls it the fuck off. I think he's very cleanly. Clean, orderly, and fancy shmancy. Tell me why I think he'd own stupid expensive lingerie? I know he would. He swears up down and sideways the first time you find them that they're not for him to wear (they totally are). Pretty big toy collection too, can't convince me otherwise. This man needs his ass ate, I don't make the rules, I just work here. He NEEDS IT. He's super clean down there so it's not gross or anything, and it's just about his favorite activity. In other words, eat the rich- (who said that-) decent 5.7, not particularly large, but enough to get the job done. He's another one I feel like honestly might prefer being clean shaven. He might have a small tuft of curly black hairs, but it would definitely be meticulously kept as he can't stand the feeling of too much hair down there, it annoys him to no end.

Ran-

Biggest tease. BIGGEST TEASE. Brat. BRAT. He's a switch, but by God is he a pain in the ass as a bottom. He doesn't know the meaning of the word submit. He will get on your nerves and try to provoke you until you're fed up and just bend him over the nearest surface. Lowkey gives me the vibe of an exhibitionist. Like, semi-public sex would turn him on so much. Drag him into a bathroom or random alleyway and he'll pop an instant boner. Definitely a brat taming kink and it goes both ways, it's just whoever feels like putting the other in their place, he's cool with it either way. Pull his hair, wrap your hand around his throat, he's a lil freaky freak like that. Really though, an experimentalist, he's willing to try damn near anything at least twice. Definitely has a fair amount of experience, total fuckboy over here. He has a revolving door of guys and gals that want to get in those pants. It's really not that hard to do, what is hard to do is get into that heart. (Cheesy I know) But seriously, if you somehow manage to actually bag this man, you have him under lock and key and he's yours forever, loyal as a dog despite what you might think. Probably about 6.10ish maybe pushing 7" when fully erect. Man's is six feet tall, he's got some length to him, just saying. I feel like he would stay on top of grooming pretty alright, largely because of how much he likes to sleep around, he needs to be presentable down there at all times just in case he randomly bags a hottie while he's out. After getting into a relationship, he's a bit more indifferent to it, but still likes to keep it a little tidy for your sake.

Rindou-

A lot of people assume he's also a fuckboy because of Ran, he's not, and that assumption actually bugs him a lot. He finds sleeping around to be pointless and stupid, and he lowkey kind of silently judges Ran for it. He's a sadistic assholes that loves mocking your whining. At least in the bedroom, he's surprisingly sweet otherwise and just in general. But that same sadistic side that shows when he's fighting shows through during sex. I feel like he might bottom with some convincing, but he'll also be a brat. (A brat that sobs openly when edged enough) However he'll do the same to you when things are the other way around. To my masochistic brothers, here's your man. He's safe and consensual about it, maybe periodically checking up on you but he will absolutely pull your hair, bite you, whip you, spank you, slap you, hell maybe even spit on you if that's your thing. He's a pretty big S&M guy in general, but is the world's biggest enthusiast of *safely* practicing bdsm. Informed consent is key with this man (as it fucking should be). He's the type who likes music in the background, but he is willing to let you choose the music. He can go without, but he prefers it with. 6.7 in length I feel like sounds about right for him. He may or may not decide to actually groom down there, no real guarantee, it depends on the day and how he feels. I headcannon him to be borderline or straight up gender fluid, swapping between cis masc and enby. Some days he prefers it with a little bush and other days he's just like "No. No this cannot do, it must go." So, y'know- ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Sanzu-

Oh, where do I even start with this batshit crazy bastard of a druggie (He's just like me frfr). Admittedly, probably doesn't sleep around much, even though he tries. His crazy scares almost everyone away, if the scars didn't already do the trick (wanna know how I got these scars lookin' headass) but honestly, you probably met him at a bar or a club, and he was probably flirting with you because he's high as shit. I can't see him easily getting into a relationship, but when he does he's absolutely infatuated. Devoted. You are his god. It's almost unsettling how far he's willing to go for you. That also translates into the bedroom. He has his preferences, (AHEM body worship) but assuming he truly does love you and it's not just some spur of the moment one nighter, he's more than willing to do anything, and I mean ANYTHING to please you. No kink too nasty or too far for him. He'll do that in everyday life too. If want him to buy something for you, legal or illegal, he'll do it. He'll make it happen. You hate someone, or someone getting creepy on you? They suddenly go *cough cough* "missing". He loves him some high sex, but I can see him wanting to be at least mostly sober during sex if you're dating. To savor the experience, really. He would totally get high after though. Snorting lines after sex is his go to. A little on the smaller side-ish, maybe around 5.4 or so. But he can use it pretty well if he's sober. He gets sloppy and borderline animalistic when high. He does not care AT ALL about grooming, but again he'd blow up the sun for you if he truly loves you, so he'd do it before you could finish blinking if you ever asked him to.

Izana-

Our favorite half Filipino boy right here. First things first. Sensitive. This man is so incredibly starved for attention and love, he can handle the hardest punches like a champ, but if you lightly and lovingly trace his skin, he's gone. He's dead, putty in your hands. His mind buffers like he's running on widows xp with dial up. He cannot compute this. Rough sex he's fine with, it's probably what he's used to, what he's comfortable with. But soft, gentle, slow sex? It's gonna take a minute to build up to that point. But seriously, hold this man like he's made of glass for a minute, he needs it. He'll complain about it, but he loves it. He so desperately needs someone to show him that sunshine and rainbows even exist at all. He's possesive too. If you show him an ounce of affection, he'll demand gallons and will never let anyone near you. Because how dare you even consider showing anyone else that same affection? It's like how he hates Mikey because of his jealousy over Shinichiro. Anyone who he deems to be a threat, he'll hate them (he's borderlining yandere) Really he's just jealous because he's insecure, give him reassurance and he'll calm down. Well, somewhat. I can imagine him being pretty middle of the road, 5.8 would be my guess. Another type who doesn't pay much mind to his grooming down there, especially in the time skip. Much like Sanzu, this man damn near worships you, so yeah, he'd start manscaping in a heartbeat if you wanted him to. Just ask and he'll do it. Main difference is with Sanzu you 100% have to tell him verbally or he'll never pick up on. Izana may or may not notice if you dislike it, still better to just tell him though. (Communication is good chat, talk to your partners jfc)

Shinichiro-

Awkward dork. Total dweeb and I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. He's a loser and a lame-o, and we all love him for it. He's so babygirl coded fr. He will do everything in his power to please you (and probably fail miserably) whether in the bedroom or not. He tries though, his heart is in the right place and that's what counts. Though he can get a little dejected and self conscious about it, so you just have to remind him that it doesn't bother you and that he's fine the way he is. Please tell him he's fine the way he is. He's tried to dirty talk once before, but ended up stuttering and then became self aware halfway through, visibly cringing because let's be honest, whatever he said was probably pretty cringy. But it just wound up in both of you laughing about it, both in the moment, and looking back on it later. But he does really love you, and it shows in everything he does. I feel like he'd really like cuddle fucking and missionary. Really, he just wants to feel close to you. He likes to be able to hug you while you fuck. He can't dirty talk for the life of him as previously discussed, so he's usually not very verbal, only really moaning out curses or your name. Don't get me wrong, he's vocal, just not verbal. Occasionally when he's in the mood for a more rough type of encounter, he can and will turn into a babbling mess underneath you. However, if you dirty talk to him at all, he will absolutely lose his mind and go beet red, hiding his face in your chest or the crook of your neck. This boy loves nothing more than looking into your eyes, carresing you and kissing you during sex. He's a hopeless romantic is what he is. Actually decently long, 7.6, makes sense, he's over six foot. I feel like he'd definitely try to groom down there when you're dating, but he might fuck up a little and nick himself a couple times. But as always, hell make an effort to look his best and do his best for you.

Wakasa-

Ahem. Point to the best ass eater please?

👉w a k a s a i m a u s h i👈

But seriously. This man's tongue is magical (yes I'm biased, he's my fav leave me tf alone) but really, he gives me the vibe of someone who knows what he's doing. He's got experience and ✨talent✨ in regards to sexy time. And he's strong enough to toss your ass around like a raggedy anne doll, even despite how short he is. C'mon, he's owns a gym and he absolutely kicks ass in a fight, you cannot convince me he couldn't throw me like a tennis ball (I want him to so badly.) Stoner vibes. Hardcore stoner vibes. This man is constantly at least a little buzzed and he's absolutely a plug. You cannot convince me otherwise, I won't listen. This shit is gospel. I feel like he'd be willing to put in some effort for his s/o, but he's a total pillow princess at heart. Whether you're riding him or railing him, as long as he feels good and doesn't have to do shit, he's a happy boy. Really he's just spoiled, doesn't feel like working for a damn thing. He'll get really pouty if you make him beg or work for it, but if you torment and torture him enough he'll comply eventually. Waka is another body worshiper I feel like. Sure, he's a pillow princess, but he likes to have his hands roaming every inch of you at all possible times. His hands and his lips. The softest touches paired with the softest kisses, peppered all over your skin because he just can't get over how perfect you are to him. If you've read my Akihiko x Stoner reader fic, I can imagine that type of scenario. You riding him or him riding you while you share a blunt, just hotboxing yourselves in your room with slow, lazy sex, all of your sense through the damn roof. Another music lover, just something soft and really chill in the background, even better when paired with a good blunt. He's touchy in general when he's high, always having to have contact with you, and he just can't keep himself off of you, same applies to the bedroom, always caressing you without even realizing it. He's packing a relatively solid 5.6. not shabby considering that he's five foot fucking three. Short king, but we love him anyways. I SAID WE STAND WITH OUR SHORT KINGS. He strikes me as the type who grooms semi-frequently, but doesn't obsess about it. He's a lazy guy, but at the same time he doesn't like to be gross y'know? He maintains it, but it's the bare minimum.

Benkei-

Gentle giant, anyone? Because that's what he is. At least when he's with you. Sure, he's only 6'2", but he's pretty fucking wide too. That, and his overall demeanour and personality just gives him the vibe of a big guy. Despite his strength and his tendency to have a hot temper sometimes, he's surprisingly gentle with you. Of course, that's unless you ask him not to be. He'd never dare lay a hand on you in everyday life, but the bedroom has different rules as we all know. He's a big fan of setting up concrete and mutually agreed upon boundaries, and there always has to be a safe word. (Honestly how it should be) Even if you don't have a consent kink, it is undeniabley impressive how hot he can make asking you for verbal consent. He needs explicit verbal consent each time, and absolutely refuses to do anything if either of you are even a little intoxicated unless it was previously discussed. He's such a gentleman in that respect honestly. He'll always listen to your preferences and prioritize your needs first. Even if your into that freaky shit and he's telling you he's just using you as a cock sleeve, really he's always chasing your pleasure more than his own. It's just how he rolls. 7.10, and I will not elaborate. That seems pretty appropriate for him, honestly. He likes to have a bush, but he likes to keep it well kept and trimmed, like how he keeps his beard quite orderly. So there is a tuft of hair down there, black or white, I'm not sure (his natural hair colour isn't confirmed, but I doubt he'd bother dying it.) and it is very well kept. Manscaping is just a part of his everyday routine, same as maintaining his facial hair, he doesn't even think twice about it anymore.

Takeomi-

Another slightly awkward dork, but he tries to pretend he's all confident. May or may not lie about how much experience he has. He might tell you he's slept around a fair bit and dated a lot of people to impress you, but it's obvious he hasn't by how nervous he gets around you. He desperately tried to hide his nervousness too. We all know he's greedy and can get a little self obsessed at times. And I can see why that might make you think that he'd be too much of a narcissist to be a good partner, and I'd say you're only about a quarter right. Yes, having a partner like you would absolutely go to his head a bit. He thinks you're like the best person to ever grace this earth, so he thinks it's a major flex that you'd choose *him* of all people. He would absolutely show you off like some kind of trophy, number one hype man right here. You become his source of pride, next to his gang. I fully believe he's another straight up worshipping type, he thinks you're way too good for him, and as a result hails you like some kind of god and will flaunt you with pleasure. Though if close enough to him, he might be more willing to be vulnerable around you and admit to his overwhelming insecurities and lack of self esteem. It's no secret that his sense of self worth is derived from achievements and material possessions, which is just a tad bit of an issue. Just a tad. This all 100% translates into the bedroom. Tries so hard and fails so miserably to act confident. He'd be more likely to top especially towards the beginning because he feels he has something to prove, he feels that he needs to be more dominant just to show you he cares. But with some time, discussion and a fuckload of reassurance, he'd be willing to bottom. May or may not feel a bit emasculated by it though. Could be a bit of a whiner/whimperer, but again, it takes him a minute to be that comfortable. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just really doesn't want you to think less of him. Same thing applies to grooming. The only reason he even tries is because he wants to look halfway decent for you. He wants to impress and come across as though he cares. If he cares for himself that makes it seem like he's more capable of caring for you, right? Well, that's his logic anyways. Likes to keep a decent sized tuft of hair because it makes him feel more masculine. Pretty well kept though if I'm being honest, he does a halfway decent job.