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Lavender Haze | SugarDaddy!Mitsuya x Fem!Reader (NSFW/18+)

content warnings include: MDNI, fem!reader, sugardaddy!mitsuya (lite?), itty bitty bit of possessiveness, absolute service dom!mitsuya, swearing, mentions of blushing, heavy foreplay, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby, good girl, pretty girl)— i think that's it

word count: 13.2k (i am so sorry idk what happened)

auth note: my contribution to the SugarDaddyCollab! this really ended up being a labor of love and my LONGEST FIC TO DATE (hopefully ever), i had to treat Mitsuya carefully for this subject matter as to not break characterization. i hope i did him justice. i'm so sorry for how long it it, but i hope everyone enjoys nonetheless! terribly unbeta'd/proofed but y'all have waited long enough! 😭

songs that got me through this one: middle of the night - elley duhé, after dark - mr. kitty

“This is the last one,” you told yourself. “If I don’t get booked, I quit.”

Walking into the business highrise in downtown Shibuya, you wrestled with the thought that your dream of becoming a successful model was coming to a close. No one had booked you in weeks, and the ones that did didn’t give you the traction that you wanted.

You kept at it though– you swear you’ve tried every major and independent brand you could get an appointment for. You’ve wanted to model since you were young, drawn to the fabulous lifestyle that came with it. Getting to wear the trendiest clothes and accessories, parading a runway with all eyes on you, and one day seeing your face on one of the giant ad boards in the fashion district– it’s exactly what you wanted.

But fuck, for whatever reason you just weren’t getting booked. It was a competitive market and designers were picky– oftentimes giving a pass because you weren’t the “right” height, your hips swayed too much when you walked, or god forbid your neck wasn’t long enough. There wasn’t a single studio where you could make all of their marks.

The elevator doors opened, and you walked inside, pressing the button to take you to the floor for your last appointment. You clutched your portfolio tightly against your chest, taking a deep breath and praying this would be the break you needed.

The ride up was far too short, but you swallowed your nerves and exited the elevator. You walked out to the loft style office to find two individuals waiting for you. These brand reps were always very punctual, and it was bad decorum to keep them waiting. Great, they hate me already.

After standard pleasantries, you handed your portfolio to the male, and the female took you further into the studio where there were various racks of clothing items. She gave you a once over and picked out three different garments for you to try on.

You truly did your best walk for the critics before you, but with each outfit change you felt more and more concerned with the way the man and woman were whispering to each other as you gave your display. They were either giving you good poker faces, or they just weren’t impressed.

On your last trip down the imaginary line you created, you happened to see someone in your peripheral vision standing off to the far side of the room. He was leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and a tailor’s tape hanging loosely around his neck. You couldn’t get a good look at him, because by the time you were done with your walk, he was gone.

The two before you exchanged a glance with each other, and the women instructed you to go change back into your own clothes. Upon returning, the man returned your portfolio and said the words you were dreading to hear for the umpteenth time:

“You’re just not what we’re looking for right now.”

Your heart sank to your stomach as you waited for the elevator to come get you from your final rejection. Were you just not good enough? You felt like a dog with its tail between its legs, now just used to being kicked. You were broken from your dream. It was time to start applying to “real” jobs online as soon as you got home to your tiny unimpressive apartment.

As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, you felt a hand gently grasp your arm before you could enter. You turned your head to find the man from earlier that watched your dismal performance from the edge of the room. He had stylish pale lavender hair that matched his beautiful downturned eyes.

He introduced himself as Mitsuya Takashi, and you nearly fainted at the two words. The man that created the brand that you were trying to get booked for had watched you himself, and no doubt agreed with his cohorts that you just weren’t a fit for his company. You bowed and severely apologized for not immediately recognizing him.

“Now now, there’s no need for all that,” he said coolly and urged you to straighten up. “I just… wanted to catch you before you left.”

His smile was warm and his voice was smooth as silk. He wasn’t overly tall, or intimidating for that matter– his presence was inviting and he had a sort of charm about him.

Mitsuya asked if you’d join him for dinner so he could discuss something with you. He wouldn’t go into the details right there, but he gave you a time and an address. Normally you wouldn’t be too keen on going to dinner with a man you’ve only known for five minutes, but this was Mitsuya Takashi– there was no chance in hell you were going to say no.

You arrived at an apartment building in Shibuya City later that evening, fully expecting to see a restaurant, being that Mitsuya mentioned having dinner with you. But you double checked the address and this was definitely the place he asked you to meet him.

You walked through the large glass doors, through the lobby and to the elevator, riding it up to the sixteenth floor– the top floor. Once you exited, there were only two doors on either end of a short hallway. You noted the letter ‘A’ written on the piece of paper in your hand and approached the appropriate door.

You adjusted your dress after you knocked on the door, trying to be as presentable as possible to the man you felt like you just needed to impress, given his status. You smoothed out any wrinkles, picked off any stray hair clinging to the fabric, and shyly adjusted your breasts so as to not look too promiscuous, but still hoping they might… help you out.

You were hoping Mitsuya wanted to discuss hiring you as a model for his clothing line, and you did not want to blow this. Sure, his representatives at the office today didn’t seem too impressed, but the look that he gave you said otherwise.

The door finally opened and you were greeted with the same warm smile from earlier. Mitsuya stepped aside to allow you into the penthouse, which was stunning. The foyer broke out into a modern-style living room with lavish furniture, decked in floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking several districts of Tokyo. You almost couldn’t look away from the grand view of the emerging city lights and the warm blush of the sunset just under the horizon.

Mitsuya ushered you over to the kitchen and pulled out a seat against the island, and suddenly you smelled something delicious. You realized he was the one making dinner tonight.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” you said as he poured you a glass of wine, wincing immediately afterward in embarrassment since you didn’t actually know anything about him to begin with.

Mitsuya let out a breathy laugh and tossed a kitchen towel over his shoulder, “Been doing it since I was a kid really.” He proceeded to tell you about his upbringing, raising his sisters in humble surroundings, and even being in a Tokyo biker gang in his teenage years. He expressed his anxiety for growing his company into what it’s becoming, and his weariness for the workload of his new upscale clientele. Despite all of that, he concluded that he’s happy to able to properly provide for his family and do something that he’s always loved to do.

You observed him as he continued preparing the meal for the two of you– he was meticulous, organized, and had very steady hands. You were able to notice more of his physical self as well, being of average build with strong arms under his rolled up sleeves. His hair was a pale lavender color that hung just above his brows, his slightly downturned eyes were the same color, and he had the most beautiful eyelashes you’ve ever seen on a man. He was… quite attractive.

The small talk continued on as you and Mitsuya enjoyed the dinner, and you felt a sense of homeliness in the taste of the food and the atmosphere. He lived in an impressive looking penthouse, but he was quite modest in contrast. He wasn’t all diamonds and arrogant wealth, which was what made him so charming.

Mitsuya cleaned up after dinner and took you further into his apartment to show you his private workspace. The room housed a large table in the middle, full of sketches and scraps of fabric. He had mannequins of various sizes and two sewing machines. The windows were large just like the main living room area, and you were able to take in yet another view of the twinkling city before you both.

“I was wondering,” Mitsuya started, “if I could strike a deal with you.”

You turned around from the windows and placed your wine glass on the table, meeting his gaze from the other side of it. “What kind of deal?”

“I’d like you to wear my clothes.” The statement was almost blunt enough to catch you off guard.

Was he asking you to model for his brand? Had you finessed enough confidence in yourself in tonight’s impromptu dinner for him to change his mind about you?

He continued, “I guess what I should say is I want to make clothing for you.”

“Wait… for me? I thought you were going to hire me as a model?” You looked at him incredulously from across the table. “I’m flattered but, I-I can’t pay you for something like that.”

Mitsuya raises his hand in a sweeping motion as if to stop you before you could get too far ahead of yourself. “Don’t think of yourself as a client, but perhaps you could call it a personal request.”

You were still not following what he was trying to say, and he picked up on that.

“And rather than pay me, in exchange for allowing me to do this for you, I’d like you to accompany me to some of the events I’m required to make an appearance for. You can… model what I make for you.” He said the last part with a smile, hoping that would appeal to your initial endeavor when you walked into his office this afternoon.

You were still finding it difficult to say something, anything, to Mitsuya. This offer was seeming so one sided in favor of you. He was offering to not only make clothing especially for you, but to also take you as his plus one to upscale parties for essentially nothing in return. If he was asking you on a few dates, it was a strange way of doing it.

But if this is what he was really laying out for you, it wouldn’t hurt to see what it was all about. And if this was any chance to get to meet people in the modeling world to help you get your foot in the door, Mitsuya was the person that could help you do it.

“Okay,” you finally said. “It’s a deal.”

“Great,” he replied. “How about you stop by the office tomorrow and we’ll get your measurements?”

“Sure.”

Mitsuya then offered to drive you home since it was late, and you didn’t protest on account of it being a decently long train ride back to your apartment from the city.

The next day, you returned to the same office building, only this time there wasn’t anyone waiting for you in the frontmost area of the studio. You looked around after taking a few steps around the room.

“Mitsuya? Are you here?”

“How about Takashi from now on?” He appeared in the same doorway you had initially spotted him the day before. “In here,” he motioned for you to follow him.

“Right. Takashi.” You had just met him and he was already insisting to call him by his first name.

You went through the doorway, shoes clicking on the concrete flooring beneath you, and entered a larger room that mimicked Mitsuya’s at-home studio room. There were a lot more pieces in progress on the mannequins and a large chalkboard wall full of sketches.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to strip,” Mitsuya said.

“Wait, what?” you felt yourself beginning to blush and did your best to fight it off.

He turned back to you, almost laughing at your reaction. “Not like that, just down to your underwear so I can get a proper measurement. I promise this is professional.”

You took a deep breath and remembered that you’ve done this before for other modeling gigs, but what made you nervous was that it was him that was going to be measuring you.

Still, you placed your bag on the table next to you, and slipped your shoes off. You looked over your shoulder to see if Mitsuya was watching, but he was busying himself by writing something down in a notepad. You proceeded to pull your shirt up over your head and slide your pants off as gracefully as possible, folding the articles and placing them on the table.

He brought the notepad over to the table you were standing at, and pulled a tailor’s tape from his pocket. Mitsuya started at your shoulders, placing the flexible material across the back of your neck and holding one end at the point of your shoulder. He noted the number on the other side, and took the pencil from his ear to jot it down on the paper he started on.

One by one he moved down your body, taking a measurement of pretty much everything you could think of necessary for an array of garments.

He leaned into you to wrap the tape around your torso, and you inhaled the delicious scent of coffee and toasted sugar. He brought his hands around your ribs and ever so gently rested them at the front of your bust. You nervously looked up and made direct eye contact with him for a moment before he turned away to write down another number. You were hoping he didn’t notice you blush again.

Mitsuya then kneeled down to take your waist and hip measurements, your body temperature rising now that his face was much closer to your panties. His fingers ghosted over your hips and you felt your body react by forming goosebumps under his featherlight touch. Glancing down at his face, you could have sworn you could almost see him grinning. Professional.

He proceeded to take a thigh measurement, and you needed to continue looking straight ahead at a random object in the room so he wouldn’t see the now prominent flushed color on your cheeks. You felt him practically place his entire palm to the inside of your thigh to hold the tailor’s tape in place, and couldn’t help but focus on how warm his hands were. They weren’t rough or calloused like you would expect from an ex-delinquent, and the gentle swipe of his thumb across your skin almost made your knees buckle. You could feel yourself needing to exhale, but your chest felt so tight all of a sudden.

Professional. Be professional. This is…

“Okay I think I’m done,” Mitsuya said as he stood back up and wrote down the last number. Hearing his voice made you realize that not a single word was exchanged while he measured you. You heard your own heartbeat deep in your eardrums, but in reality it was nothing but silence in the room of just the two of you.

You quickly turned around so he wouldn’t see your face, and hurriedly began putting your pants back on. As you were dressing, you were wracked with the thought that he could be watching you pull your pants up and you wouldn’t even know it. Professional.

“Oh, here, I got you something,” you heard from behind you as you finished adjusting your shirt. You turned around and Mitsuya had a small rectangular box outstretched to you, in the most unmistakable color– Tiffany blue.

You practically lost your balance upon seeing the box being so casually handed to you, and raised your hands in protest. “Whoa whoa whoa, Mitsuya, I don’t–”

“Takashi,” he interrupted with a minor annoyed huff.

Your brain was absolutely scrambled. You came to his office to get measured and in return he hands you Tiffany jewelry?

“Takashi,” you corrected yourself in a more stern tone, “I simply cannot take that. I don’t even want to know what’s inside or how much it costs.”

He took the lid off the box and presented to you a sparkling tennis bracelet, a circlet of small but perfect diamonds and probably the most expensive piece of jewelry you’ve seen with your eyes.

“It’s a bracelet, and I know a guy, so don’t worry about it.” He takes the bracelet out of the box and opens the clasp, holding the glittering band out to you. “Actually I was owed a favor, so it didn’t cost me anything.”

Mitsuya Takashi was very good at leaving you absolutely speechless. You had barely done anything at all in the two days you’ve known him, and you were this close to walking out of here with a bracelet worth thousands, obtained through a returned favor. Was this professional?

Mitsuya looked insistent, and you didn’t want to insult him. You apprehensively displayed your wrist for him and watched as he carefully placed it around and clasped it back together. It was gorgeous, and sparkled brighter than the night sky on a cloudless night.

“It’s beautiful, Takashi, thank you. I… I don’t know what to say.” You moved your wrist around to inspect the selfless gift you were now wearing.

“What you just said was all I needed,” he smiled at you now admiring the accessory, your eyes just as bright as the diamonds adorning your wrist. That was really all he needed.

“One last thing– let me see your phone.”

You were done protesting for the time being, so you obediently handed him your cell phone. You watched him pull out his own phone and fiddle between the two for a few moments.

Eventually he handed yours back to you. “I’ve put my phone number in your contacts, and vice versa. I also linked my calendar to yours. I’ve assigned you the color purple, so any days with that color are gonna be the ones that I’ll ask you to be available for.”

You curiously looked at the updated calendar, now sprinkled with several purple dots. “So, you have an event on Friday you need me for?”

“Yes,” Mitsuya answered. “It’s a celebratory banquet for a colleague of mine. If it’s too soon–”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’m free that day.” You were thinking that if this event was for a colleague of his, there could very well be some opportunities for you regarding modeling. Then you noticed there was another purple dot on the very next day. “Saturday too?”

“For a wedding, a client of mine asked me to make their dress and they said my attendance was non-negotiable,” he chuckled.

A high class party and a wedding back to back? No pressure.

“Sounds like… we’re going to have a busy weekend,” you said with a smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how anxious you were about all of this.

Mitsuya smiled back at you, “I’ll have something made for you to wear to both. Just come by my place Friday afternoon.”

“Sure, no problem,” you said, slipping your shoes on.

Mitsuya took you back to the elevator after you insisted on getting home on your own. You argued that he had done more than enough for you today. He shockingly gave little protest.

As the elevator doors closed, you left him with a wave, with the arm that now gave home to the bracelet he gave you, and all he could do was smile.

You fiddled with the jewelry the entire train ride home, almost counting the number of diamonds around your wrist. This now had to be the most expensive thing you owned, and it wasn’t even for any special occasion.

As you walked through the door of your apartment, you heard your cell phone chime, signaling you that you received a text message. You fish your phone from your bag to find a message from Mitsuya:

Takashi: Forgot to ask for your shoe size. Care to enlighten me?

You smirked and replied with your shoe size because of course he would have to get you shoes on top of everything else.

A chime back:

Takashi: Thanks, beautiful. See you Friday x

Definitely not professional.

In the days that passed leading up to Friday, one of your friends asked if you wanted to go out to lunch that day. You obliged, noticing the colored tab on the calendar said the banquet wasn’t until that evening. Besides, you also wanted to tell her about Mitsuya, this enigmatic man that seemed to pick you out of a barrel and want to make you his living Barbie doll.

“WHAT?!” she exclaimed, grabbing your wrist quite aggressively and pulling it towards her, beaming incredulously at the tennis bracelet. She seemed almost concerned once she assumed what was happening here.

“You know you’re gonna have to sleep with him right?”

Having said that a little too loud in public, you immediately shushed her after you were done choking on your water. “What? N-No, that’s not what Takashi said at all. He–”

Your friend was now looking at you like she couldn’t believe you could be this stupid. “He’s basically making you a sugar baby, ya know? Extravagant gifts, dressing you in nice clothes, taking you to upscale parties… You really don’t see it?”

You took a pause to mull over your friend’s words. Was Mitsuya really trying to be your… sugar daddy? He hadn’t asked for anything in return other than accompanying him to designated events. Sex was never mentioned.

“Takashi’s not like that– he’s a gentleman, and he’s…” your voice trailed off at the thought of the word “professional,” which now seemed comical thinking back on what happened earlier that week. You peered down at your extravagant bracelet, then looked back at your friend.

“Okay, so he’s subtly flirted with me. That doesn’t mean he’s expecting me to sleep with him.” You whispered the last part, hoping that no one sitting near you was listening too closely.

Your friend laughed as she took a drink from her glass, “I’m just saying, don’t be surprised if things change.”

You decided it would be best to go straight to Mitsuya’s place after your embarrassing lunch date, and you couldn’t help repeating your friend’s words in your mind. You know you’re gonna have to sleep with him right?

Maybe this was his plan all along– shower you with pretty things hoping to get you in bed afterwards. While Mitsuya wasn’t unattractive in the least, you weren’t really into the idea. Maybe this whole arrangement was a mistake. Should you turn around and go home? Delete his calendar from your phone? Block his number while you’re at it?

Then you thought about the whole reason you were doing this. You’ve never wanted anything as bad as you wanted to do modeling. After dozens of failed attempts to launch the limelight career you’ve always dreamed of, this was presented to you almost as the last ditch effort. If you were introduced to someone important even as soon as tonight, your luck might turn around.

And you needed Mitsuya for any of this to happen.

You arrived once again to his penthouse, putting on a smile to not let your looming thoughts get the best of you. Mitsuya still welcomed you with the same warm grin as he always did, already dressed in a two tone suit– standard black pants, white dress shirt, and a slim heather gray blazer with a subtle floral print. His tie and pocket square were the exact color of his hair and eyes. If he wasn’t anything else, he was at least coordinated. You didn’t think it was possible for him to get any more attractive than the first day you met him, but here he was proving you wrong. He looked incredible, but the most you could bear to give him was a generic but bubbly compliment. Otherwise, you might have fumbled disastrously over your words.

He implored you to follow him to his studio, where your dress for the evening was waiting. Your jaw hit the floor when you laid eyes on the garment Mitsuya had made for you– a gorgeous satin gown with thin straps that supported a square draping neckline, a corset bodice and a floor length hem with a high, but tasteful slit up the side. The entire garment was in the same muted lavender that complimented Mitsuya perfectly.

“Do you like it?” he finally asked, almost worriedly, after your stunned silence.

You approached the mannequin wearing the divine dress and played with some of the fabric. “Takashi, there’s no way you made something like this in this short amount of time.”

You could hear him chuckle behind you, “Ouch, are you doubting my abilities?”

“No, no, I just–” you took a quick pause, still overwhelmed with the presentation of the gown. “You are really quite talented, you know that?”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Mitsuya said as he took a few steps toward you and the dress. Hands in his pockets, he leaned forward ever so slightly to reach closer to your ear. “I think you’re going to look stunning in this piece.”

You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t excited to wear it. It was beautiful, and it screamed style and class. You slowly ran your fingers down the boning of the bodice and bit your bottom lip gently, thinking about how someone like you was even worthy of any of these things.

Mitsuya helped you into the gown, and assisted in lacing the back for you. As his fingers deftly worked the satin back and forth across the small of your back, you could feel small bolts of electricity running through you with every touch of his hands. You could faintly feel his breath on the back of your neck, and even though he wasn’t pulling tightly on the strings, you felt your own breath hitch with every row. You reminded yourself that this was just you being a plus one, and nothing more. Whatever you were feeling in your head didn’t matter, and this arrangement had to stay professional.

Mitsuya gave you a few accessories to go with your new dress– a very subtle diamond pendant on a silver chain, nude Valentino Rockstud heels, and a matching clutch. He was pleased to see that you hadn’t taken off the Tiffany bracelet from the other day, and that you didn’t seem to be fighting back about his gift giving as much once you looked in his full length mirror at the completed outfit. You were smiling, both with your mouth and your eyes.

The two of you left in his car and drove to Harajuku where the banquet was being held. During the ride over, Mitsuya explained that he’d be introducing you to a lot of people he’d have to talk to, but didn’t expect you to remember any of them. He knew he was catapulting you straight into his world from being on the outside, and he wanted to ensure that you wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

You had to admit this was making you nervous, soon to be in the same room with a lot of important people in the fashion industry. He noticed you fiddling with your hands anxiously in the passenger seat, so he mindlessly reached over and grabbed one of them with his own, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. You welcomed the warmth from his hand to yours, which felt ice cold against his burning touch. How was it that he was so concerned about you when this whole evening was more about him?

Before you knew it, you had arrived at the venue, and a valet was opening your door while Mitsuya spoke to another to have his car parked. As soon as you were on your feet, Mitsuya came and offered you his arm, which you gladly took, and he escorted you with him into the building before you.

This was an upscale club, and much brighter than the ones you’ve been to. Chandeliers and expensive furniture neatly littered about, the room was swelling with well-dressed guests and staff, a beat of music faintly heard underneath all the chatter around you. Mitsuya wasn’t wrong when he said that this might be overwhelming, but you did your best to mentally ground yourself and not look so dazed and out of place.

Mitsuya squeezed your hand tighter to his torso. “Stay close, okay? They should all know that you’re here with me.” You responded by pulling yourself slightly closer to him, while silently wondering what he meant by his statement. To whose benefit would it be to have you clung to his arm?

Thus began the whirlwind of pleasantries and light conversations around the room. Mitsuya was very well liked in this melting pot of personalities, and could you blame them? He was one of the most charming and talented men you’ve ever met, and regardless of the rush, he never once forgot to introduce you or keep you part of the conversation.

The most memorable person Mitsuya introduced you to had to be his close friend and successful worldwide model Hakkai Shiba. The tall and slender man with beautiful blue hair and distinct eyes had endless praises for Mitsuya, fondly calling him “Taka,” and reminisced on some of their old gang adventures. Hakkai was well aware of your presence attached to Mitsuya’s arm, but quite obviously refrained from directing any of his banter toward you. When he departed to mingle with others, you looked at Mitsuya and asked if you did anything wrong for Hakkai to all but ignore you.

All he gave you was a small chuckle, and leaned into your ear, as if he was going to tell you a secret. “Hakkai has always had trouble talking to beautiful women.” As he leaned away, he gave you a wink, and for a moment you felt your heart tumble inside your chest.

The rest of the evening was full of charged energy, and you eventually relaxed more into the setting with Mitsuya right at your side. There was champagne, food, and laughter. People were quick to compliment your attire, and Mitsuya was all too happy to help you give a spin every now and then which made you blush like a stupid school girl. But you liked the attention, and couldn’t remember the last time your heart soared like this.

There were even reps for modeling agencies that took a liking to you, and you were starting to think that this arrangement between you and Mitsuya might be beginning to pay off after all. But you also soon realized that with each person that gave you praises or a business card to contact them, you could feel Mitsuya tense up. His arm had eventually migrated to your waist at some point during the night, and he was periodically tightening his grasp on you, discreetly pulling you closer to him as if you were about to fly away.

It wasn’t exactly off putting, in fact, the attention that Mitsuya was giving you was somewhat more desirable than it was from anyone else in the room. You liked that he appeared to be afraid of letting you go, after he had just found you in his own office by happenstance not even a week ago. He was doing his best to remain professional, but something in the look in his eyes said he might be teetering away from that in favor of his own selfish needs.

Were you beginning to like that about him?

The night came and went, and before you knew it Mitsuya was giving his goodbyes to as many people as he could, making sure to find his beloved friend Hakkai before he was jet setting off to London like he explained earlier. As you both walked out into the chilly night air outside, Mitsuya kept a gentle hand on the small of your back until he car was brought around. Not three seconds after he put it into gear, he nonchalantly grabbed your hand again, like he did on the way to the party, and rested your joined palms on your lap. He was getting familiar.

“So, did you have fun tonight?” he briskly asked in the quiet of the car rolling through the bright city streets.

“I did, Takashi, thank you for inviting me,” you replied. “It was nice that you got to see Hakkai tonight! Seems like he’s never in one place for too long.”

“Yeah,” Mitsuya sighed. You glanced over at his eyes, which now seemed a bit sad. “I don’t get to see him very much anymore. We were inseparable when we were kids, and now I’m lucky if I run into him every few months. His career really took off.”

“You miss him, huh?”

“Yeah, I do,” with his quiet reply, Mitsuya subtly gave your hand a squeeze with his own, but enough for you to notice. Your eyes stayed focused on his fingers curled around your own and you began to think about the business cards in your clutch immediately next to them. If you got in with one of these agencies, would you also have to leave like Hakkai did? Is that what Mitsuya was afraid of? Granted, he’s only just met you, but you felt somewhere in his heart that he was already growing fond of you, past the point of whatever professional front he was putting on.

You noticed Mitsuya took the wrong exit and you were now headed back to Shibuya City. “Sorry, if you’re trying to take me home, you’re going the wrong way.”

Mitsuya took his eyes off the road for a split second to look in your direction. Looking forward again, he smiled. “Don’t forget that wedding tomorrow. I figured since it starts kind of early, you could just stay at my place to save time.”

You were certain you were blushing, and thanked the gods Mitsuya had to watch the road. “Stay… at your place?”

He could sense your hesitation. “I have a guest bedroom,” he chuckled, “you’re more than welcome to it.” He brushed his thumb over the back of your hand a few times. “Unless, you really want me to turn around and take you home.” This was happening a little fast, you thought. But since he wasn’t insisting on sharing a bed tonight…

“No, it’s fine… You’re right, it’ll just save us time tomorrow.” You managed a smile.

You arrived back at his penthouse, and were all too glad to be able to finally take your heels off. You held them by the straps in your hands and looked shyly at Mitsuya as he was shrugging off his blazer. “So, I just realized I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

He gave you a look like he was thinking about something, and then he told you to follow him. Walking down the hallway past his work room, he took you to what you assumed was his bedroom. Naturally it was sleek and stylish, a grand king sized bed against the wall, with more large windows showing off Shibuya City outside.

Mitsuya opened a drawer to his dresser against the wall opposite to his bed and shuffled a few things around. He handed you a pair of gray sweatpants, then found a black henley sweatshirt in another drawer. “I hope these are okay for you, at least until tomorrow.”

“These are perfect,” you said and then giggled. “I don’t suppose you have a pair of ladie’s underwear in there too?”

“Ah, fresh out I’m afraid,” he replied with an airy laugh, playing along with your joke. “Funny you should mention that though…” He scratched the side of his head with his index finger, then began toward the door. “Come with me.”

You walked with him further down the hall, clutching his borrowed clothes in your arms, and he opened a door to another bedroom, city lights only faintly illuminating the walls and furniture from the window. “This is where you’ll be sleeping. There’s an ensuite bathroom in here too so you can help yourself to a shower.” He walked over to the bedside lamp and turned it on.

The room looked similar to his, though smaller. When you laid eyes on the bed, you noticed something draped on top of the neatly made duvet. Fabric maybe? You approached and confirmed your suspicions– there was sheer black material cascading off the edge of the bed, you also spotted some… lace.

Lingerie.

Your head snapped up to Mitsuya’s face, which was actually dusted pink on his cheeks. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his slacks, and was he avoiding eye contact?

“I…” you started, “didn’t know you made lingerie.” You felt your own face flush with your own embarrassment.

It took Mitsuya a moment to respond, but you heard him inhale through his nose before he finally spoke. “I, uh, don’t. It’s my first set actually. But… I was inspired by that first dinner we had here.” He was eyeing the fabric as you raked over it with your own. It looked… expensive, beautiful, and well made. Was there anything Mitsuya couldn’t make with his hands?

But if staying at his place was a far step, this was a leap with a running start. You were questioning his motives once again, remembering your conversation earlier with your friend who implied that sex was a requirement for this exchange of gifts and taste of the high class life you wanted. Despite his gentlemanly exterior, what did he actually desire?

“Takashi… what exactly do you want out of this?” you asked nervously.

He rested his gaze on you, so pretty in your dress, holding his clothes so tightly against you now in an attempt to hide yourself. “I don’t follow.”

“You insist on making me such beautiful clothing for me to wear, give me expensive jewelry, and now even lingerie… I’m just…” your words got caught in your throat for a moment. You swallowed down the fear and turned to him with a furrowed brow. “Are you expecting… sexual favors for all of this?”

“Expecting?” Mitsuya scoffed, almost offended by your question. Before you knew it, he had taken the few strides it took to be right in front of you, inside your bubble, face now only inches from yours. He’s never been this damn close to you before.

“Believe me,” he said all too softly, you could now feel one of his hands had left his pocket and was now trailing his fingers up your thigh so slowly, thanks to the high slit of your dress. His beautiful downturned eyes were searching your face for any discomfort before he continued. “The only thing I’d like more than seeing you in the clothes I make for you, would be seeing you take them off for me.”

You inhaled the smallest gasp, and you felt like you were suddenly on fire, imaginary flames licking at your thigh that were being fueled by his tender touch. Your mouth was dry and you tried to force yourself to swallow. Mitsuya leaned into you, his lips barely touching your ear. “But only when and if you’re ready.”

He leaned away then, giving you his typical warm smile that you’ve seen from the beginning. “I wouldn’t force you to do something you weren’t comfortable with. Afterall, we already discussed the basics of this… arrangement, and that’s all I’m asking of you. Nothing more.”

Mitsuya Takashi was very good at leaving you absolutely speechless. He glanced at the lingerie set still untouched on the bed. “I won’t even ask you to try any of that on yet. It was just something I felt you deserved.” He then gently took one of your hands from the bundle of clothes you still held and raised it to his lips. The kiss was sweet, endearing almost, and instantly made your entire body tingle. His demeanor changed entirely back to the one you had grown accustomed to.

“Now, I’ll text my assistant and have her drop off some essentials for you in the morning, including the underwear you asked for, hm?”

“O-okay, sure.” Your head still felt a bit foggy from his intrusion into your space, and you were now almost sad to feel his warmth leaving you to exit the room. Before he pulled the door shut behind him, he turned his head to look at you once more. “Sleep tight, beautiful.” And with that, you were left to wonder what exactly happened just now.

Had you just seen something that he was concealing from you this whole time? A taste of what he could do to you? It would have been one thing if he would have taken what he wanted right then and there, but he respected you enough to leave the decision up to you. How was he so good? How was he so unlike all of the other men you’ve met? Maybe it was having to raise two sisters essentially on his own that made him this way. He naturally had a nurturing heart, and hardly had any ego to him. It felt like he wanted to protect you, and make you happy for whatever it’s worth.

Tonight’s admission of not expecting sex from Mitsuya definitely allowed you to relax more. What was once an uneasy feeling was now being washed away in the shower of the bathroom that was attached to the guest bedroom. It was becoming clear that Mitsuya had no ill intentions when he proposed this situation to you that very first night, and the small conversation in the car on the way here made it obvious that he was just… lonely. He generally had a calm and positive demeanor, but he absolutely lit up tonight, savoring the short amount of time he had with the person who was once consistently at his side. You hadn’t seen him smile quite that much until he was around Hakkai. You suspected that he longed to have the companionship he once had, and somehow he sought that very thing from you.

You hadn’t even fought when Mitsuya so naturally held your hand in the car, because his eyes had gone back to the same look full of longing that you saw when you first met him. Just how many of his friends weren’t around anymore, too busy with their careers and growing up in their own worlds? It made you sad for him, realizing that your role in all of this was becoming painfully clear.

The guest bathroom was stocked like a five-star hotel– you were able to wash your face and brush your teeth, and even do a bit of skin care thanks to the cute travel sized samples on the vanity. You slipped on the clothes that Mitsuya gave you to wear, and couldn’t help but relish the way they smelled of soft lavender and traces of his cologne. It made you feel like you were still snug at his side like you were this evening. The only thing missing was his gentle hand at your waist…

Emerging from the bathroom, you removed the lingerie set from the bed and placed it on a reading chair near the window. You pulled back the tightly folded sheets of the bed and nestled your way in. Your head hit the soft plush pillows and you sighed contently, feeling surrounded by comfort.

But sleep wasn’t finding you easily. You hoped that scrolling on your phone for a little while would make you tired, but after about an hour you put it back on the nightstand and tried closing your eyes. You tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the quality of the mattress or the linens. Fuck, the thread count of the sheets you were surrounded in must have been the highest they could be made and terribly expensive.

But you couldn’t seem to be able to quiet your thoughts– the business cards in your clutch signifying that foot in the door you had been waiting to get to, the apparent guilt you were feeling acting on contacting these reps to kickstart your career when Mitsuya was the one that had gotten you to this point, his unwavering generosity and kindness, the sadness in his features that he seemed to fight with, the way he so protectively held onto you all night and his sheer contentment to have you next to him, the hands that found home in the curvature of your back and brushed over your fingers, the same hands that gently measured and dressed you, and just recently teased you in a way you didn’t expect to like so much. This was a far cry from professional, and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

In the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you had grown to like Mitsuya, and he was now making it very hard to want to jump ship and follow this dream you’ve had since you were young. The thought of being yet another person to leave him behind in the sea of garments he’s tasked to make for people actually started to feel… wrong. Without cause, he just decided to gift you a kind of life you yearned for, and consistently make sure you were comfortable with it. He didn’t have ulterior motives about you, and just made you feel wanted after so many others had said no.

You rolled over to your other side and now faced the reading chair that held onto the lingerie set, eyeing the fabric that draped over the arm. “Fuck it.”

You got out of bed and walked over to the chair. Mitsuya said he wouldn’t ask you to wear it, but… you wanted to. You wanted to show him how it looked on you, and have his hands roam your body. You wanted to be there for him and return at least one of the favors for his generosity. He wasn’t expecting anything from you, but that oddly made you more willing to take the initiative yourself.

You removed the clothes you were in and carefully put the ensemble on, which was made of a soft lace fabric that was surprisingly comfortable. The bra was the perfect size, the panties were delicate and there wasn’t a stitch out of place. The last piece was the sheer black robe that had complimenting lace accents. When you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t believe your eyes. It was romantic, like something from a Victorian movie or some rich tv drama. And you felt… hott, beautiful even. It’s as if Mitsuya knew exactly what you’d look like the moment you put this on without you even being there when he constructed it.

You weren’t sure where the sudden confidence came from, but your body nearly acted on its own when you left the guest bedroom and wandered down the hall. You remembered exactly which door led to his bedroom, and planned on quietly slipping in while he was sleeping to surprise him. But when you reached Mitsuya’s bedroom, the door was wide open, there were lights on, and the bed was still neatly made. He wasn’t asleep.

You leaned into the doorway and looked around for any sign of him. His bathroom was empty, and you didn’t hear the shower running either. If he wasn’t in his bedroom, there was only one other place you could think he’d be.

You continued down the hall just a bit farther, and noticed the door to his studio was ajar, light coming out from the other side. You peeked your head to look through the opening, and there he was– Mitsuya was sat at the large center table, hunched over and sketching something lazily in his sweats and a plain tshirt. You had a good view of his side profile, his brow furrowed with a pair of glasses sitting at the end of his nose. He was… so cute when he was concentrating, you almost didn’t want to bother him. But you plucked up the courage to get this far, and you weren’t going to stop now.

You pushed the door open with a hand, moving slowly into the room so as to not startle him. He was fumbling with a pencil as he rested his elbows on the table, so deep in thought that he didn’t notice you walking into the room.

“Takashi?” you whispered to him.

His eyes floated in your direction for a split second, then he did a double take when he realized you had called out to him. He raised his head and his face immediately went from deep concentration to pure shock when his widened eyes fell onto your figure standing there in the room, wearing the lingerie he made for you. He blatantly dropped the pencil in his fingers and it loudly clattered onto the table.

“W-wow…” was all he seemed to be able to mutter as he took his glasses off his face and clumsily placed them on the table.

You took a few silent footsteps toward him at the table. “What are you doing in here? Do you know what time it is?”

He gave you a few blinks, and then let his eyes travel from your eyes to the rest of you, clad in black lace and sheer beauty. “I… couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either,” you sighed, and gave him a small smile. Your eyes moved to the table and the sketch paper that was in front of him. “Working on something?”

“Y-yeah…” Mitsuya’s voice was stuttered and you thought you noticed the tips of his ears turning pinker by the second. “C’mere, I’ll show you.”

You closed the distance between you, and opted to stand at his side, arms loosely folded around your torso, peering down at the sketch of some long and flowing dress he was designing.

“It’s for Fall Fashion Week,” he started, “the design is loosely based on the kimono style, I’m thinking brocade for the fabric…” He went on about the details of the garment and you smiled fondly at him over how passionate he was about design and fashion.

You involuntarily let out a small giggle, “What’s the inspiration?”

“You… actually.”

It was then that you felt his fingers dance on the back of your thigh, and there was an immediate rush of heat to your face. When you turned your head to him, he was looking at the sketch. “Since the day I met you, I’ve been so inspired. I fear now when I design anything, I’m actually thinking about you wearing it over anyone else.”

“Takashi…” you shied away, now certain your face was a deeper shade of red. His hand gently squeezed your thigh, and you covered part of your face before turning back to him, now looking up at you from his sitting position.

“You look so beautiful right now.” His eyes were roaming your figure like he was staring at an angel, his own personal goddess. His hand was fixed in place where he planted it, unsure if he was welcome to any more of your flesh.

You turned yourself to face him, and almost on instinct he did the same to allow you to stand between his legs. Your hands found their way to his face, thumbing over the high plane of his cheeks. He gazed at you adoringly, relishing the way you initiated to touch him for the first time. You brushed some of his hair away from his face, and your eyes skipped between his gorgeous lilac hues and his soft looking lips.

You couldn’t ignore the ever present feeling deep in your chest any longer.

Your body leaned forward and your lips connected with his. The first kiss was short, almost just to test the waters before you collided with him again, this time deeper and with more weight behind it. Mitsuya moved both of his hands to your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

His lips were like velvet, moving so gently across your own, you couldn’t help but let out a tiny sound of pleasure. His hands moved more freely now, one wrapping around to the small of your back and the other brushing along the band of your bra, slipping his fingers underneath to feel the skin it was concealing. You migrated your hands to the back of his neck, carding them in his hair as you sighed contently.

Mitsuya pulled back for a split second in between kisses. “Is— is this okay?” His fingers gave you a gentle squeeze as if to clarify what he was asking.

“Yes… Takashi. Touch me, please.” Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and his hands were the catalyst to quench the overwhelming sensation.

You heard a groan come from his chest as his hands further explored your bareness, sliding up the plane of your back and back down your sides. All the while his tongue grazed your bottom lip, requesting entrance to your mouth. You parted your lips and allowed your tongues to tangle together, fervently taking in each other’s taste. You felt your entire body tingle from the mint flavor of his mouth, coupled with the vibrant sensation of his now not-so-delicate touches.

He ducked his head under your jaw and began leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses down your neck. Every one felt like a jolt of electricity to your nerves and you felt goosebumps form in every direction of your skin. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together to ease the want for friction in your core. Mitsuya moved his hands expertly to grab your hips, attempting to bring you impossibly closer to him as his mouth reached the valley of your breasts, feverishly tasting every inch of you that he could, you above him sighing with soft pleasure.

One of his hands ventured to your inner thigh and crept up to the highest point until he nearly reached the seat of your pretty lace panties. He heard your small whimper come from above him, and his mouth paused to speak, “Tell me what you want, beautiful. Need to hear you say it.” He was centimeters from your increasingly slick pussy, exactly where you wanted him, but damn him for being such a gentleman.

You reached down to grab the collar of his shirt and duck your head to rest your lips right near the shell of his ear, nice and close so he heard you with perfect clarity. “I want you, Taka… Please, make me feel good.” You involuntarily called him by the nickname you heard earlier tonight, but judging by his reaction he was anything but irritated by it.

He moved one of his legs between your thighs to open them so his hand could have more access. His fingers landed on your clothed clit, giving just enough pressure to satiate some of the eagerness you had to feel him inside you. He worked smooth circles from atop the now drenched lace fabric separating his fingers from your heat. You moaned into the room around you, and Mitsuya let out a low growl. “Fuck, baby, you’re already so wet. Haven’t even done anything to you yet.” He peppered sweet kisses to your neck as he moved your panties to the side to allow his fingers to slip through your folds, dripping and aching for him. Your grip on his shirt collar increased, white knuckles yanking him as close as he could be from his position. His fingers slid across your slit, gathering your slick to coat your clit before he worked the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your chest began heaving, your breath panting from the sensation of his hands working you up to an orgasm, the knot in your core tightening with every languid movement of his fingers. You felt his other hand reach up to your face, and he gently pulled it downward to lock his lips to yours once again. With his tongue sweeping across your own, he swiftly inserted one of his fingers into your entrance, earning a muffled whine from your throat that he drank up into his mouth.

He sunk his finger down to the last knuckle, and began slowly pumping it in and out, feeling the way your pussy clenched around it so eagerly. So much so that he added a second finger to join in the act soon after. He swallowed every moan and whine from your lips, his fingers fueled by the intoxicating sound of your voice. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting to hear what you sound like. Will you give me more, baby?” He curled his fingers inside your walls to find your g-spot, and he knows when he has by the way your hips grind down onto the heel of his palm and you’re mewling in his ear. You were all but riding his thigh at this point, desperate for friction and ecstasy.

Mitsuya was already bringing you to the edge of release, you were completely lost in the feeling until he pulled on your bottom lip between his teeth causing you to let out another whine. The hand that wasn’t working you was now softly gripped around your jaw, and his pupils were significantly dilated.

“Ta…kashi— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you managed to breathe out, and he responded by pressing the pads of his fingers to your spongey spot. “Shit, won’t you cum for me, angel?” He was panting along with you, stealing a sweet kiss every few seconds until he saw it in your eyes. The coil in your core snapped and your orgasm washed over you like a blissful wave. Mitsuya left your moans to the air rather than his mouth, enjoying the sweet sound of you in your moment as he helped you ride it out.

Your face slumped to his shoulder, nestled in the crook of his neck, breathless and floating on the wings of your high. Mitsuya let out a low chuckle at your relaxed state, allowing his hand to rest on the back of your neck. “How are you feeling?”

You giggled and left a ticklish kiss on his neck. “I’m good. That was good.” It was then you felt his fingers slipping from your pussy and the seat of your panties returning to cover it. You couldn’t help but whine from the loss of him inside your walls. You leaned back up to give Mitsuya a pout, until he raised his fingers, coated in your arousal, and put them in his mouth. Your jaw hung loose and your face got hot all over again as you watched him greedily lick his fingers clean while maintaining burning eye contact with you– damn, he’s dirty. Mitsuya’s eyes glinted with satisfaction as he popped the last finger out of his mouth and his hands returned to your waist, leaning into you with a half lidded gaze. “What do you say I help you cum again, sweetheart?”

You gave him an obvious nod, knowing full well you were already committed to this. And if his fingers could get you off like that, what could the other parts of him do?

Mitsuya then stood up hastily and scooped you into his arms bridal style, making his way for the door out of the room. You couldn’t care where he was taking you, too busy planting feverish kisses and love bites on his neck where your arms were wrapped around him. It was all you could do to try and reciprocate some of the sensations he had already made you feel.

Suddenly you were lowered down to stand, the back of your legs pushed against the plush duvet of his bed. Mitsuya melted his lips into yours once again while he delicately slipped the robe off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Your fingertips crawled under the hem of his shirt, dancing up his toned abs that you didn’t know he had. You pushed his shirt up even farther, Mitsuya complying by raising his arms and leaning back just enough to let the intrusion pass between you and over his head. Your eyes traveled down to ogle at his physique, chiseled and beautiful as you slid your fingers back down over his stomach. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

“Alright, on the bed for me.” Mitsuya nudged his head to instruct your movement as he slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants and coaxed them to the floor, stepping out and leaving only his boxers around his waist. You were enamored by him, and desperate to even the pleasure score between you by palming at his obvious erection. He was painfully hard, precum already marking a spot into the fabric. He felt big, too, your fingers trying to wrap around his length that you couldn’t quite reach beneath the confines.

Mitsuya gently grasped your wrist to seize your attempts. “You can do that next time, princess,” he said as he pulled your hand up to kiss your open palm. His voice was alarmingly calm, but his eyes were fully blown with lust as they bore holes into yours. “Right now… I need to feel you cumming on my tongue.”

You swallowed hard, having no choice but to hoist yourself onto the bed for fear your legs would give out from the soft but commanding tone of his voice. He swiftly followed you up toward the headboard and proceeded to force your back into the mattress, looming over your body to admire it fully.

“You know, seeing you wear this has been quite wonderful,” he said as one of his hands trailed up your stomach and paused to gently knead at your breast, toying with the lace bra he constructed himself, “but it’s going to have to come off before we continue.” He seductively gazed down at you as he played with the bra strap at your shoulder. “Is that okay, beautiful?”

He was so… polite. From his position he could have easily ravaged you in the name of his own desire for pleasure, but it was you he was focused on. His chivalrous approach was unlike anything you had previously experienced, and it was… turning you on. Without hesitation at his question, you reached behind you to unclasp the bra and remove it for him, a silent admission of your permission to carry on.

You caught Mitsuya in a slight bite of his lower lip, taking the more of you in with his eyes, and it drove you crazy. He lowered himself to cage you in below him, his arms resting on either side of you, his body slotted between your thighs. He ghosted his lips over yours as you felt one of his hands cup your breast, his fingers rolling your perk nipple between them. You let out a breathy whine, and saw him smile at the reaction. He spoke lowly in response, “That’s my good girl.”

He kissed you, more aggressively this time, as if he needed you to breathe. He was, in fact, stealing the breath from your lungs, your head airy from his lips and his tongue and his praises. He had just laid claim to you, his girl, and boy did that sound nice. You were reeling from the sensation of being at the mercy of his desire for you, and only you.

His mouth moved to your jaw, trailing slowly to your neck as he kissed and sucked and bit his way down. He was leaving marks in his wake, bruising shapes that symbolized his connection to you. His body was pressed firmly to you, his warmth becoming one with yours. Your hands moved across his strong back muscles as he moved his way down past your shoulders, your collarbones, and paused as he found your breasts. He pawed at them with both hands as he nipped at your flesh, earning stiff sighs from your lips.

Mitsuya took one of your nipples into his hot mouth and flicked his tongue eagerly over it, his second hand giving attention to the other, rolling it with his thumb and index finger. You arched your back into him, your fingernails gently raking into his back. You heard a satisfying moan from him at the feeling, relishing in your response. With a pop, he released his mouth from your nipple and switched to the other, ensuring each to get equal attention.

You bucked your hips up, needing some sort of friction, brushing against his hard cock and squeezing him between your thighs. Mitsuya chuckled from his chest and released your nipple with a graze of his teeth, looking up at you through his pretty lashes. “Eager, are we?”

Without waiting for a response, he continued his path down the length of your abdomen, a trail of open mouthed kisses left in his wake. When he reached the edge of your panties, he hooked his fingers into the lace band and shimmied them down off your hips. You assisted him in sliding them off your legs, and noticed how he paused yet again, hands sliding up your thighs and pushing them apart to get a look at your glistening pussy nearly dripping onto his sheets.

Mitsuya dropped back down to the bed, sliding farther down so he could make a home for his face between your thighs. His arms hooked around your legs and his breath fanned across your sex for a few moments, intent on teasing you just a bit. Before you could protest his delay, you felt him push his tongue between your folds, licking a single hard stripe from your entrance to your clit.

You couldn't contain the moan that fell from your lips, or your fingers gripping the sheets for dear life at the delightful sensation his tongue was beginning to work over you. The familiar coil in your core was tightening again like a snake constricting its prey, wrapping slowly around that place deep within you in a most delicious manner. Mitsuya ate your pussy with fervor, dipping the tip of his muscle into your hole and dragging it up to then wrap his lips around your clit and suck ever so gently on your pretty bud.

You were getting louder, and Mitsuya wasn’t shy to point it out. “Fuck, baby… that’s it… nice and loud for me.” His tongue flicked at your clit to coax more from your lips, and in a moment of unbridled pleasure your fingers found their way to his hair, entangling and grasping at his lavender locks to push his face closer to your cunt. He sufficed a moan, wordlessly informing you that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. The vibration from his throat rattled through your core, your pussy getting slicker and your moans reaching a higher register.

“You taste so good, princess, fuck–” Mitsuya ate you like his last meal, pushing his tongue deeper into your puffy folds even without the guidance of your hands on the back of his head. One of his hands released his grip on your leg to put his two fingers back inside your walls that were begging for something to fill the void. He continued sucking on your sensitive clit while he curled his fingers to massage your favorite spot, and the coil was rapidly getting tighter. Your moans were constant, huffing each one out with a rise and fall of your chest. You release your grip on Mitsuya’s hair to cover your face, painfully aware of how borderline pornographic you sounded.

“Ah ah, don’t hide, beautiful,” Mitsuya stopped to speak softly, taking his hand that wasn’t deep inside your cunt to pull your hands away from your face. “‘wanna see you when you cum, okay?” His fingers locked between yours, and you were kind enough to comply with his request. He rewarded you by increasing the pace of his fingers, making your pussy squelch and the grip of your intertwined fingers grow tighter. Mitsuya returned to his previous position, reconnecting his mouth to your very sensitive bud while he pumped and scissored his fingers in and out of your pulsing walls. He alternated between strong harsh licks and quick flicks of his tongue, and you could barely keep quiet at this point.

“T– akaaa… fuck, I’m close, so close!” You were now unconsciously grinding your hips against his face, chasing the finish line to your orgasm, your hand returning to card your fingers through his hair. In response, Mitsuya latched his lips around your clit and curled his fingers even more, watching you intently above him as you writhed with pleasure. It was only when he moaned deep from within his chest that vibrated against your pussy did the tightly bound coil within you finally snap.

White stars littered your vision as you felt your entire body spasm into your second orgasm of the night. Your voice reached another octave as you chanted his name over and over, your fingers grasping at his with all your might while his thumb soothed whatever part of your hand he could to ground you through your high. All the while he removed his fingers from your pussy to hold one of your legs open, lapping up as much of your cum as he could, eagerly licking and sucking at your slick folds.

After a few long moments, your breathing began to return to normal, and you released your grip on Mitsuya’s hair, allowing him to slowly back out of his position, leaving tender kisses and nips at your inner thighs. He leaned back and you were able to take in the state of him— his mouth and chin were glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed, and his hair a bit ruffled. He smiled and licked his bottom lip, which made your heart stutter. Despite his usual demeanor, Mitsuya was filthy in the bedroom… and you didn’t mind one bit.

“Think you can give me one more, pretty girl?” he asked, moving his hands to the waistband of his boxers. You nodded firmly through your shallow panting, knowing what was about to come next. Mitsuya then shimmied out of the last article of clothing between the two of you, and his cock sprang free from the fabric. You instantly felt your mouth salivate at the sight of it— he was big, more length than girth, the tip a deep shade of pink from having to endure being ignored up until now. It was nearly dripping with precum, down the one prominent vein on its underside, and you thought you might have never seen a prettier cock on a man before now.

Mitsuya ran his hand up and down his shaft, spreading the moisture around his length while he positioned himself closer to your cunt, already wetter from the sheer sight of him. He pushed the tip through your oversensitive folds which caused a whine to leave your lips. He let out a barely audible sigh and moved his cock to your entrance, allowing the first inch to enter you slowly. Despite the multiple orgasms he’d given you, it still felt like he was stretching you to your limit.

You couldn’t stop your hips from moving, trying desperately to get him further inside your gummy walls where you wanted him, but fuck, with every inch it was becoming more and more overwhelming. “Goddamn, baby,” Mitsuya growled, “you’re— fuck, so tight… Need you to relax for me.” He began rubbing languid circles on your puffy clit in an attempt to get you to allow him in.

You made an effort to slow your breathing and relax your muscles, and with a few more rocks of his hips, Mitsuya bottomed out inside you with a satisfied grin. He made you feel so full, your eager cunt heatedly pulsing around his cock.

He leaned over you to cage your body under him, giving one slow thrust which forced a gasp to leave your lips. Mitsuya kept his pace slow to let you adjust to his size, thoroughly enjoying finally being enveloped by your slick heat. The pleasure was intense, mind blowing, and dizzying. Your hands made home around his neck, pulling him in for a bruising kiss that he happily reciprocated, the taste of you still prominently on his tongue. He snaked a hand behind your back, arching it upward to get a better angle, and he knows he’s got it when your pussy squeezes him tightly and you moan into his mouth at an alarmingly high pitch.

“Ahh– there, right there!” Your hands were now grasping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, feeling his cock repeatedly kissing that perfect spot inside you. He was already building you up so fast, the coil dangerously tight with each thrust. Mitsuya increased his pace for you, keeping you a moaning, whining mess for him.

“Fuckkk– you’re perfect… So perfect for me, aren’t you baby?” He rested his forehead against yours, panting in time with your pretty sounds. Your body was going rigid, the dam about to burst, the bubble about to pop, any moment now you thought you would absolutely break right to your core.

“T’kashiiii… ahh, fuck! ‘m c-cumming–” Your legs wrapped around Mitsuya as the most earth shattering orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, unable to keep any semblance of control. You shut your eyes tight, seeing nothing but a grand fireworks display behind your eyelids. Mitsuya littered your face with soft kisses, cooing praises in your ear as he kept thrusting his hips into you, prolonging the ride of your high as long as he could make it. He was such a giving lover, selflessly focused on your pleasure the entire time. He was truly something special.

But you could tell he was quickly approaching his own high, a faint stutter in his hips now present. He leaned back and hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder, grasping at the plush of your now shaking thighs, a thin sheen of sweat plastering strands of hair to his flushed face. He was panting heavily now, seconds from release.

“Where— shit, where do you… want me to—“

“Inside,” you breathed, hoping it was loud enough to hear over his breathing. “Want— want you to cum in me, Taka, please—“ You were pleading at this point, desperate to feel full.

“F-fuck—“ was all you heard before he fucked into you harder, shaking the frame of the bed into the wall behind you. It only lasted a few seconds before he gave one final thrust against your cunt and moaned deep from his chest, releasing his load deep inside you, hot ropes of his cum painting your walls white. Your pussy was still contracting, greedily milking him for everything he had.

Mitsuya crashed his body on top of yours, his head resting on your shoulder while you both rested to catch your breath. You gently ran your fingertips up and down his spine, noticing the way his skin formed goosebumps under your touch. He kissed you at the crook of your neck and you closed your eyes to allow yourself to take it all in.

He had told you that he didn’t expect this to happen, it wasn’t part of the deal he proposed, and he wasn’t the type to take it for himself. It wasn’t until he relinquished the decision to you that you allowed yourself to fall into the cliche of “sugaring” despite your previous protests. He made the trade more desirable, and if you really thought about it, you probably would have ended up here even without all the one-of-a-kind clothes and everything else he bought for you. Mitsuya Takashi was so good, kind, and wonderful.

You felt Mitsuya’s hand rest on your cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. You could also still feel his softening cock brushing along your sensitive walls. Your eyes fluttered open to find his lilac hues searching for you. “There’s my girl.” He kissed down the length of your neck down to your shoulder, gingerly pulling out of you with a relaxed groan. He left momentarily to retreat to the bathroom, only to come back wearing a fresh pair of boxers, with a washcloth and a glass of water in hand. He softly patted the cool fabric against your face while you wistfully gazed at him, still being so concerned for you. He cleaned you up between your thighs too before he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in a hamper of towels that needed laundering.

You had sat up to take a drink of water when he grabbed his shirt from the floor and dressed you in it. Your entire being smelled of Mitsuya, and his shirt felt so soft and comforting against your skin. You silently held out the glass of water to him, since he seemed to not be concerned about himself. He chuckled and leaned into the glass to have you hydrate him, placing a steadying head at your wrist– the same one wearing the Tiffany bracelet he had given you. It took him until now to notice that you hadn’t ever taken it off, and it caused him to smile.

Mitsuya moved his downturned eyes to yours and sighed. “We should probably get some sleep now. We still have that wedding to get to…” he glanced at his alarm clock, “...in six hours.”

You giggled and nodded, pulling up the duvet and the sheets on his bed, indicating to him that you were sleeping with him and not in the guest room. He climbed into the spot next to you and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead, cradling your face for a long moment before he spoke again.

“Then we can talk about you wearing my designs for Fall Fashion Week.”

You perked up at his statement, now looking at him incredulously. He had himself propped on an elbow, leaning over you clad in nothing but his tshirt and your own post-coital beauty. He tucked a stray bit of hair behind your ear and gave you an almost sad smile.

“You wanna be a model? You wanna wear my stuff and walk the runway for me, baby? You got it. Just… I’m asking you to stay here… with me.”

You were now remembering the conversation in the car, about Hakkai and probably the rest of his friends. Mitsuya really didn’t want to be alone. He found something in you, and now it seemed he wasn’t willing to let you go out into the world to find your dream.

But did it have to be out there somewhere? Couldn’t you follow your dream right here with Mitsuya and be content with that? This whole time, he had been giving, and giving, and giving. This seemed to be the one real thing he was asking for in return.

And you were more than happy to oblige.

You pulled him in a chaste kiss, carding your fingers through his lavender hair once again. “As long as it’s not professional.” x

header art by ken wakui~

#🍁wasabi #🍁lavender #hey god🧎🏾‍♀️it’s me again🧎🏾‍♀️#mitsuya x reader #mitsuya smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #this whole thing was a MASTERPIECE ✨

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anisespice · 1 month

Text

SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.

જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.

જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.

જ⁀➴ word count: 10k

જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.

ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.

Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.

“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.

“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”

“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.

“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.

Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.

“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.

“Huh?”

“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.

“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.

“Through it all, right?”

“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.

“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.

“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.

“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”

Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.

“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.

“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.

“Where was she during the last fight?”

“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.

It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.

“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.

“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”

You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.

The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.

“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.

“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.

“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.

“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”

“Not a little, a lot.”

“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.

Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.

Which made you realize another thing.

“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.

“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Who?”

“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.

“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.

“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,” oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”

You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?

“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”

“I forgot!”

“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”

Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.

You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.

It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.

Don’t you dare-

“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.

“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.

Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.

“Is there anything you need or?”

“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”

Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.

“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.

“Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.

You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?

“Are you okay—“

“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.

“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”

Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.

I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.

Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.

You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.

The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.

“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.

You two seemed to have that in common.

You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.

“Shit-“

“Ouch.”

You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.

Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.

“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.

“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.

The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.

You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.

“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-

“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.

“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.

“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.

“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.

“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.

“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.

“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”

“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.

“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”

“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.

“I am an amazing liar!”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.

“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.

The night seemed to be going pretty well.

You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.

The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.

“Hey wait,”

“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.

“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.

You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.

“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.

He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.

Mikey<3

--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?

You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.

--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.

Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.

“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.

“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.

You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.

Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.

Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.

You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.

“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.

“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.

“Were you expecting a bike?”

“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”

“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.

“Getting shy?”

“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.

“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.

“Mikey—really, focus!”

You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.

His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.

“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.

Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.

You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.

“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.

“Were you cooking?”

“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?

“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”

“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.

You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.

“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.

“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.

“Why?”

“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.

“I am not clumsy.”

“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.

“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.

“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“

“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.

“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.

It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.

“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.

“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”

Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.

“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.

“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.

Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.

You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.

There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.

He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?

“Mikey?”

“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.

“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.

“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?

“You mean as kids or?”

“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.

“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.

“Are you sure-“

“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”

This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.

“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.

“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.

“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”

What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.

“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.

“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.

“Hm?”

“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.

“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.

“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.

You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.

He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.

“Mikey-“

“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”

“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.

“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”

“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.

“Goodnight Mikey,”

“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”

You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.

He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.

“Goodnight, (Name).”

Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.

The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.

You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?

It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.

You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.

“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.

“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.

“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.

“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“

“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”

“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.

“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”

You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.

“How do I make him less scared though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”

Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.

“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”

You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.

“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.

Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.

“Is this…?”

“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”

You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.

“What do I do with this?”

“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”

It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.

No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.

Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.

He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.

He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.

The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.

There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.

He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?

Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.

He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.

You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.

“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.

You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.

“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.

“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.

“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.

“But sir, why-“

“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.

You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.

Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.

“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.

“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.

“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.

Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.

“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.

“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.

He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.

“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.

“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.

“Yours-“

“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.

“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.

“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.

“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.

“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.

Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.

Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.

Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.

“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”

It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.

“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.

You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.

Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.

“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”

“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.

You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.

“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.

“Yes, you do.”

“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.

“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.

“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.

“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.

“Face down, I need to taste you again.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#🍁wasabi #🍁lavender #I LOVE THIS TO AN UNHEALTHY DEGREE #the dialogue!!!#the tension!!!#the romance!!!#IT HAS IT ALL :’)))))#manjiro x reader #tokyorev #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev smut

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anisespice · 2 months

Text

“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol

notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.

Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”

“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”

You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.

“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.

You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.

Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.

“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.

With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.

Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.

The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.

When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.

It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”

Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.

Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.

“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.

“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”

You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”

Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”

“Now, hold on—”

Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”

Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.

“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”

“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.

Remorse.

Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”

“-and I don’t care. I just…”

Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.

Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.

Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

#🍁wasabi #re-read for typos andddd #why did i kinda eat 🫣??#tokyorev x reader #tokyorev smut #tokyorev scenarios

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anisespice · 2 months

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@ your fav when you wore hoochy-mama shorts:

#🍁wasabi #tokyorev #hq #mha #i love this tiktok sm 😂😂😂#i cackle every time #tokyorev x reader #haikyuu x reader #mha x reader

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anisespice · 2 months

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“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“Now, hold on—”

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Remorse.

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”