Sata Jones Imagine ~upd~ (Proven)

“I’m with you,” you said simply. “That’s the safest place in Shinjuku.”

“You’re easy to look at,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. sata jones imagine

The possessiveness in his voice wasn’t a red flag. It was a promise. Sata Jones wasn’t a man of gentle poetry. He was a man of action. He crashed into your life like a wrecking ball, breaking down all your careful walls with his brutal honesty and terrifying loyalty. “I’m with you,” you said simply

Outside, the X-Day countdown continued. The world was falling apart. But here, in the devil’s hour, tangled up in the arms of Shinjuku’s most dangerous man, you had never felt safer in your life. It was a promise

He scoffed, but his thumbs traced small circles on your legs. “Flattery won’t get you out of trouble.”

“Looking like what?”

You were sitting on his leather couch, your legs tucked beneath you, watching him. He stood by the window, the low light carving sharp lines into his jaw. He wasn’t wearing his usual flashy stage clothes, just a plain black tee and grey sweatpants. His dreads were pulled back, exposing the corded muscles of his neck.