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#GONNA THROW DRAKEN’S BOYFRIEND DIRECTLY AT HIM
haitanirindo · 3 years
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damn, draken really got his ass beat by a 7 foot tall italian man
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katsuhera · 3 years
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FIRST LOVE | s. manjiro, tokyo revengers ˗ˏˋ sano manjiro (mikey) x f!reader ˗ˏˋ wc: 8299 ˗ˏˋ nsfw (18+), childhood friends to lovers au, all chars aged mid-twenties, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, implications of a past toxic + mentally abusive relationship with kisaki, i think that's it? this grew way out of hand and into something that now i'm just proud of! so i hope you enjoy 🤍 ˗ˏˋ note: this is my submission for the 2d men discord kittens server l is for lewd collab!
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“so many recent pictures and you still keep this one on your bedside?” emma asked, picking up the worn picture frame that sat on your nightstand.
“shut up,” you laughed, snatching it away from her. “it’s a good picture. what’s wrong with a little nostalgia?”
“nothing’s wrong with nostalgia, but it’s the fact that you haven’t framed your pictures from graduation, your diploma, and worst of all, the pictures with me—”
“oh my god sue me,” you rolled your eyes. “lock me up in prison. god forbid i don’t frame the pictures we have with each other that we have on our cell phones, where we can look at them whenever we want.”
“you’re lucky i love you so much,” she retorted, flopping back down onto your bed. “anyway, what are your plans for next weekend? are you free?”
“next weekend? hmm… should be. why?”
“wanna go on a double date with me?” emma asked, suddenly turning your way and looking directly in your eyes so that you couldn’t look away. “please don’t make any excuses, your last relationship was literally back in college.”
“isn’t that a valid excuse?” you whined, throwing your head back. “my last relationship was back in college because it was the last confirmation i needed that men suck.”
“okay, fair, but i found this one really hot guy on tinder—”
“and he’s from tinder!?”
“i know! i know, just, just shut up for a sec and hear me out,” she said, sitting up straight and holding your hands. “i’ll even show you my conversation with him and everything. but his name is ken, goes by draken—isn’t that already super cool?—and he’s rich and funny and charming and tall. tell me, y/n, when was the last time i had a tall boyfriend?”
“never.”
“exactly. so that’s why, to commemorate this special occasion of me finding a tall man, i’d like to bring you along so you can see him and his hot friend.”
you sighed in defeat. “show me these pictures, i guess.”
she squealed, whipping her phone out and tapping furiously. “here!”
you stared at the screen, trying to find any kind of fault to bring up.
“this one’s short,” you deadpanned, pointing to who you assumed to be ken’s friend.
“well.... well yeah, but you’re not tall so it doesn’t matter!” she reasoned, scratching her neck. “but aren’t they pretty attractive? i feel like his friend is also your type. like a fuckboy, but he’s rich, so… an elevated fuckboy? something like that?”
“i hate you.”
“say yes? please?”
“do i have a choice?”
“no.”
“fine.”
she squeaked, tackling you in a hug. “i promise it’ll be a good time. and if it’s not, we’ll leave early. you know i’m good about that!”
“yeah, yeah. anyway, what’s his friend’s name?”
“manjiro…? yeah, manjiro sano,” she recalled, checking back on her messages with ken to confirm. “apparently they’re best friends and also work together. imagine if that was us?”
“we wouldn’t get shit done,” you snorted.
“eep! wait, i have to go now—i’m gonna be late, gotta pick up my mom from her hair appointment. i’ll text you about next weekend?”
you waved your hands dismissively. “yeah yeah, get back safe!”
you waited until emma left and closed the door behind her to fall back on your pillow, your mind full of thoughts—and a little anxiety—over your upcoming date.
the last date you went on was literal years ago, when you were back in college. the dude was a total dick that even emma had told you to be wary of, but something just kept you in the relationship, waiting eternally for things to get better.
you still remember his name, the name of the guy that turned you off from men for a while. kisaki tetta. you let out a sigh at the thought of his name, trying to think of something else. otherwise, you knew that thinking about him for too long would only bring back bad memories.
you lifted your forgotten picture frame up, staring at the worn photo inside of it. it was a decades-old photo of you and your childhood best friend—or first love, rather—mikey. hell, you could barely even remember if that was his real name, it’d been about twenty years since you last saw him. but he always went by mikey—cute little mikey who would wait for you at the end of the slide because you were too scared of completely letting go and just sliding down, adorable mikey with whom you’d formed a childish marriage pact to be fulfilled in your late 30s or 40s, or even 50s, your first love mikey who suddenly left your neighborhood and left your five-year-old heart with a gaping hole.
you knew that first loves and marriage pacts rarely ever worked out, but it was the way that he so suddenly just up and left that forever bothered you. the mikey that never failed to walk you home from pre-school and drop by on the weekends for a bite of your mom’s cooking simply left you without another word, and even now you felt that five-year-old you deserved some type of closure. well, even if you did deserve it—what were you going to do about it? you’d long since come to the realization that you’d probably never see him again, anyway.
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“are you excited!?” emma asked, waltzing in through your front door, silky blonde hair shining in bouncy curls. “you look cute!”
“eh,” you responded. you weren’t lying—you learned long ago not to get your hopes up with men. you were only going on this date for emma, anyway, not really because you expected to hit it off with this manjiro guy or anything.
she pouted, seeing your indifference.
“okay, fair. hopefully it’s fun, though! if anything, the place we’re going to seems really cute. even if they suck, we’ll get some good drinks and food out of it.”
“yeah, that is true,” you replied absentmindedly, making some last minute touch ups to your makeup and making sure you had everything you needed. “should we call an uber soon?”
“no need, they’re picking us up.”
huh. you couldn’t remember the last time a guy picked you up for a date.
“oh wait, ken just texted me—they’re here!” she exclaimed, squeezing your arm. “got everything?”
“yeah,” you said, sudden nervousness striking you as you gathered your things and walked towards your door. “okay, let’s go!”
the two of you walked out to see a black bugatti parked outside, tinted windows shielding you from even glimpsing the men inside.
“a bugatti, huh?” you whispered quietly to emma, whose expression looked just as surprised as yours.
“well.... ken did mention that they’re comfortable,” she replied, wide-eyed.
the passenger-side door opened at that moment, revealing who you recognized to be manjiro. his black hair was loosely tied back, exposing a clean shaven undercut and a tattoo that crept up to the base of his neck.
he got out to open the backdoor for you and emma, holding it open with a polite smile on his face.
“emma and… y/n, right?” he asked, his voice faltering the tiniest bit—so subtle that you almost didn’t catch it.
“yeah! manjiro, right? it’s good to meet you,” emma said cheerily, grabbing your hand and getting in. “thanks for picking us up, again.”
“of course, no worries,” he said, looking down hastily once you two’d made eye contact.
well… he is cute, can’t deny that, you thought, smoothing down the front of your outfit as you sat. manjiro closed the door softly, and got in the front again.
“it’s good to meet you two,” ken said smoothly, looking at you and emma from the mirror. “have you been to this restaurant before?”
“no, but i kept hearing good things about it, so i thought it would be worth a try,” emma said, blushing and looking down.
you smiled, looking at her. ken definitely is her type, i’m glad.
“i’ll trust your judgement then,” he smirked, starting the car.
the car ride was short, the car purring quietly as ken easily weaved through traffic. both men seemed like smooth talkers for sure, but for the time being, you couldn’t sense anything weird or malintent from them.
after parking, they opened the doors for you two, ken on emma’s side and manjiro on yours.
oddly, you felt that you seemed to match—emma with ken and you with manjiro, though it was definitely unplanned. just… the color palettes and aesthetics. if you were a stranger looking in, you definitely would have thought that your outfits were planned.
like something out of a drama, you thought.
clearly, manjiro was thinking similarly.
“hey, we’re matching,” he said softly, smiling with an odd twinkle in his eye.
“get your own fashion sense,” you joked, and he merely chuckled, guiding you into the restaurant with a light hand on your mid-back.
butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, and you tried to deny them with all your being.
this means nothing, you thought firmly. you’re… just touch starved.
a couple of drinks in, and the less handsy manjiro became with you. though you weren’t really expecting anything per se, your tipsy self couldn’t help but remember your little interaction going into the restaurant. now, it seemed as though he were afraid to touch you, his rosy-cheeked self seeming to slink further and further away from you on the bench.
you glanced at ken and emma, who seemed to be having a great time—ken’s arm slung across her shoulders with a lazy smile, and emma’s cheeks constantly pulled in a charming smile, giggling at everything he said.
do i smell? you wondered, insecurity and anxiety bubbling up in your chest. does he just not like me? is it something i—
“can i get you another drink?” he asked you, his controlled voice waking you out of your toxic thought cycle. “i’m about to grab another for myself.”
“ah—sure,” you responded quickly, not really thinking. “just a vodka cran, if that’s okay.”
“sure,” he replied, smiling.
“what about me?” ken piped up.
“shut up, designated driver,” manjiro mocked.
“how come just y/n gets one?” ken fake pouted, looking up at manjiro with puppy eyes.
“no more for me!” emma said, throwing up her arms in a cross. “i’m drunk.”
“see? no more for emma, she’s drunk,” manjiro stated matter-of-factly, before turning to you. “y/n, are you sure you’re good for another?”
you were tipsy, but nowhere near your limit, so you nodded.
he pat your head softly, oblivious to the fireworks he sparked in your chest.
“see, ken? y/n’s fine, and that’s why she gets another drink,” he said smugly. “i’ll be right back,” he whispered to you, smiling.
you nod again, desperately trying to ignore the rising heat in your cheeks.
emma made eye contact with you, widening her eyes as if to ask: oh my god!? did he just do that!?
you widen yours in response, as though to tell her: i don’t know! shut up! act normal!
“so any secrets of manjiro’s that you can tell us now that he’s gone?” emma joked, cocking her head towards ken.
“huh,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “i do have secrets, but i wanna make it out of here alive, so none that i can tell you.”
she pouted and you laughed, shaking your head when manjiro returned, drinks in hand.
“what’d i miss?” he asked.
“nothing,” ken replied quickly, a cocky grin on his face. “nothing at all.”
manjiro merely raised his eyebrows, but didn’t question it. he sat a little closer to you when he returned than he did before he left, as if to rid you of your prior insecurities.
“so emma, you’re a graphic designer, right?” manjiro asked. “what about you, y/n?”
“me? i’m in advertising,” you responded, suddenly shy now that the spotlight was on you. “what do you and ken do? you two work together, right?”
they shot each other furtive glances, pausing to clear their throats awkwardly.
“uh… it’s complicated,” ken started. “you can say that we’re in finance.”
“like, at a bank?”
“... no, not exactly.”
“it’s complicated and boring,” manjiro interjected smoothly. “but working together makes up for it.”
you somehow got the sense that you shouldn’t ask for more details, and so you swallowed your questions.
“shit!” emma gasped suddenly. “y/n, i forgot my keys—can i stay over?”
“again?” you laughed. “yeah, of course you can.”
“should we get going, then?” ken asked, looking worriedly at emma. “i’ll just drop you two back off where i picked you up?”
“yes, that’d be perfect,” you said, grateful for his concern.
he nodded, and helped emma to stand and walk towards the exit.
manjiro cleared his throat, catching you by the wrist as you also got up to leave.
“ah, wait—y/n,” he started, a little hesitant. “would you care to exchange numbers? no pressure, of course.”
“oh, sure!” you said, a little caught off-guard. “here, let me type in my number.”
he smiles gently to himself as he takes the phone back from you, and enters his own in your phone.
“here you go,” he said, handing it back to you as the two of you started to follow ken and emma. “i had fun tonight, y/n.”
“me too,” you said, a little shyly. “thanks for buying me those drinks.”
he shrugged. “it was the least i can do, after all this time,” his voice trailed off, and you strained to catch what he’d said over the buzz in the restaurant.
“sorry, i couldn’t hear you,” you said, leaning in.
“n-nothing, just that it was the least i could do,” he said quickly, cheeks flushing. “are you and emma going to be alright?”
“yeah, for sure, all she needs is some water,” you replied, touched by his concern. “she stays over all the time, it’s not like anything inconvenient.”
“that’s good to hear,” he said, patting your shoulder. “here, let me get the door.”
he opened the backdoor to the car, and you saw emma already sitting, her neck lolled back with her eyes closed.
“y/n! finally,” she pouted. “can we binge twilight at home?”
“maybe,” you laughed.
the four of you rode in comfortable silence on the way home, the windows rolled down to reveal the beautiful cityscape that sparkled in the clear night sky.
“we had a good time tonight,” ken said sincerely as you got out of the car. “hope you had fun, too.”
“we did,” you smiled. “thanks for dinner guys! and for the ride back.”
“of course.” manjiro looked at you curiously as you waved goodbye, waiting until you and emma were safely in your building before getting back in the car.
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“so… that’s her, right?” ken asked quietly, starting the engine.
manjiro stared at your contact page in his phone for a moment before answering.
“... yeah. that’s her.”
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you were weirdly constantly drawn to your phone in the days following your double date, and even in all your denial you have to admit that it’s probably because of how consistently ken and emma texted.
you were undoubtedly happy for her, especially since ken’s the first guy that you didn’t immediately disapprove of for her, but still—seeing her giggle at her phone when talking to him struck a strange chord in your heart.
he’d sent a cordial “hey, this is manjiro. just wanted to check in and see if you and emma woke up alright” the next morning, but your conversation had fallen a little flat by the end of the day.
sighing, at this point you were certain that you could deny your interest in him no longer. the tingly sensation you got in your chest when he patted your head in the restaurant came back to haunt you randomly throughout the day, and you swore that you’d do fucking anything to get rid of that.
should i text him first? you wondered. your eyes sauntered over to emma, who sat in the corner of your room, rapidly tapping on her phone. but what would i even text him about?
“emma,” you started hesitantly.
“hmm? what’s up?”
“what do you and ken talk about?”
she stared at you blankly before answering. “hmm, like… everything? i don’t know, we kinda just talk about our days, and stuff. i tell him about work and he tells me about whatever it is he does throughout the day.”
“mmm.”
“have you and manjiro been talking?”
“no,” you almost didn’t want to answer. “bu—”
“does that bother you?”
“n—” you started, stopping yourself halfway. “yeah, maybe. i just don’t, like, know what to talk about with him.”
“huh.”
“what?”
“heard from ken that manjiro really liked you,” she said nonchalantly, pursing her lips. “kinda weird that he hasn’t texted you or anything.”
“i couldn’t even tell that he liked me at all,” you said, exasperated.
“i don’t think it would hurt to text him first…” she said, lost in thought. “maybe ask to grab coffee?”
what was stopping you?
“i… i guess, yeah, i can do that,” you gave in.
“you guys would be so cute together,” she mused. “i might have been drunk that night, but i still remember him patting your head!”
“do you think that even meant anything? it felt so random.”
“it couldn’t have meant nothing, right? after all, ken did say that manjiro liked you, so…”
you sighed, at a loss. “help me write this text.”
“babe, you’re literally 23. i think you can compose a text on your own.”
you huffed in defeat, knowing she was right. looking over at her, you saw that she’d already gone back to giggling quietly and typing—must be nice, you thought.
hi... you started typing.
does that sound off? you wondered.
hey manjiro, hope i’m not bothering you! just wanted to know if you’d be down to grab some coffee sometime :)
you stared at your phone, the blinking cursor flashing ominously as your mind raced to think of a better way to construct the sentence.
fuck it, you thought, and pressed send.
hey y/n! sure, i’d love to. does sometime tomorrow work for you?
you blinked, surprised at the quick reply.
i get off work at 5, so i should be free any time after 6!
that sounds perfect, i’ll be coming back from something around then. wanna meet at bibble & sip? if i remember right, i think it’s in your area!
you laughed softly to yourself, a little amused at the fact that a guy like manjiro knew about a place like bibble & sip. you’d been there before and it was in your neighborhood—it was a quaint little cafe, known for their adorable sweets.
yeah, i love bibble & sip! sounds good, i’ll text you when i start heading over there tomorrow then.
looking forward to it. see you tomorrow, y/n :)
you stared for a while at the smiley face he included, wondering briefly if he was just trying to match your tone in sending that.
locking your phone, you turned on netflix, hoping that it would distract you from thinking about manjiro until tomorrow.
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“fuck are you smiling at?” ken asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at manjiro in the passenger seat of his car.
“tch. nothing, dickhead,” manjiro spat, locking his phone quickly. silently, he thanked ken for always blasting music as he drove—surely he would have heard the drumming of his heart in his chest otherwise.
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hey, i’m on my way! you texted, a couple blocks from the cafe.
i’ll be there in a few minutes! caught in some traffic right now.
no worries! i’ll grab us a table
you took a deep breath before locking your phone and opening the door to the cafe. thankfully, there were plenty of open seats, and you decided on the corner seats—soft mini couches with a ceramic table between them.
it wasn’t long before manjiro stepped through the entrance, scanning the room to find you, smiling when he did.
his smile offered an odd comfort to your pattering heart, starting to slowly dull your worries and anxiety about the meeting.
“y/n! have you been well?” he greeted you, pulling you into a gentle hug as you stood.
“mm, i have! what about you?”
“good, missed you though.” he’d said it so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t hear him. “i’ll go get us some drinks, do you have anything in particular in mind?”
you choked on air once you processed what he’d said. “j-just a latte, please,” you managed to splutter.
missed me? your thoughts raced wildly. did i hear that right?
you pretended to look through your phone as you waited for him to come back with your drinks, feeling too flushed to look at him outright.
“here you go,” he said, returning and setting down your coffees. “the glassware here is pretty nice, you said you’ve been here before right?”
“mhmm,” you said, mind still in a haze. “did you mean that, by the way?”
oh, shit.
“hmm? mean what?”
there was no escaping this situation now.
“that… that you missed me.”
manjiro blinked, as if confused as to why you even had to ask.
“yeah, why? i did…” he said, voice trailing off. “i did miss you. a lot, actually.”
you forced yourself to look him in his eyes, normally plain and dark but now shining with a genuine light, flickering between your own eyes as he tried to gauge what you were thinking.
you swallowed hard, a feeble attempt to compose yourself.
“oh.”
“you seem like you don’t believe me.”
“i mean,” you paused uncomfortably. “i mean it’s not that, but…”
“i wanted to text you,” he interrupted quietly. “but… i think something just held me back. like i don’t have the right to be texting you as much as i want.”
“the right…?”
he averted his gaze, staring instead at the foamy heart drawn on the top of his latte.
“it’s—it’s kinda complicated, honestly,” he started. “and i don’t mean this in a way where i’m, like, trying to avoid this conversation with you—”
“manjiro,” you cut in, gently but firmly. “i want to be honest with you. before you, i was in a fuck ton of shitty relationships where guys would avoid having important conversations with me, just like this one—but the difference between now and then is that now i’ve learned what it means to prioritize myself and i want to continue valuing that. if there’s something important that you can’t talk to me about, and it’ll keep us from…” you paused, unsure of the word you were looking for. “from… continuing… whatever this is, then—”
you gulped, wondering if you really meant what you were about to say.
“then i don’t want it,” you finished, quietly.
he paused, thinking.
“you’re right,” he said slowly. “no, you’re right. and—i’m sorry, i should have been more considerate. is… is now a good time to have a long, maybe boring conversation?”
your heart thumped in your chest wildly, excited from the thrill of not backing down from something you really wanted.
college me would be shocked right now, you thought wryly.
“yeah, i have time.”
he nodded, sipping his coffee.
“so… when ken and i said that we work in finance, we weren’t lying—entirely. but we deal with… dirty money.”
what? you stared at him blankly.
“okay, long story short—we run a gang.”
huh?
your bewildered face must have been funny to him, since he broke out in laughter. you were half expecting him to go “what!? did you believe me!?”, yet no such expression came.
“sorry, sorry, you just looked really cute,” he chuckled. “i’m being serious, though. i’m technically the leader, though ken shares a lot of my responsibilities, too.”
you found yourself furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief, trying to comprehend the words he’d said.
“is that, like, legal?”
another wide grin from him.
“unfortunately not, but that doesn’t really get in our way often.”
you nodded, choosing to drink your coffee in silence. a gang!? the fuck?
“but—but wait, before you start thinking whatever it is you’re thinking—we’re good people, i promise,” he said quickly, hands raised. “we don’t hurt innocent people, we don’t steal from innocent people, we really… our mission isn’t to hurt people, y’know? it’s kind of like our own world…”
you swallowed.
“as long as you’re a good person…” you responded slowly.
manjiro couldn’t help but break out into soft peals of laughter, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest at how cute and innocent your reaction was.
“i get it if you don’t believe me,” he said quietly, fingering the rim of his mug. “but i—”
“no, i do,” your response surprised you just as much as it did him.
“is it… okay with you?” he asked hesitantly, cautiously meeting your gaze.
was it? you weren’t even sure, yourself.
“i don’t know,” you answered honestly. “but i do appreciate you telling me.”
his cheeks grew rosy, and he looked down. “yeah. i was a little scared to tell you though, to be quite honest.”
“yeah, like what if i was an undercover cop?”
he snorted. “i guess i’d let you handcuff me.”
“tch,” you laughed, mind too empty to string together an actual response.
you both sipped quietly from your cups, looking anywhere but at each other.
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manjiro had to go first, after receiving a call from ken.
“i’m sorry,” he apologized, genuine concern glowing in his eyes. “i’m sorry—i’ll make it up to you. but this is urgent.”
“gang stuff?” you giggled.
“uh,” he smiled, bemused. “yeah.”
“it’s okay—i should be heading home now, anyway.”
he nodded, internally fighting over whether he should just say fuck it and walk you home first before heading back to ken.
“text me when you’re home?”
“sure.”
he smiled, and reached his hand to gently squeeze yours.
your mind was a blur as you slowly made your way home, finding the balmy night air to be the perfect backdrop for you to try and clear your thoughts.
a gang… but a good one? the crease in your forehead deepened the more you tried to think about it.
but he was honest with you, and you couldn’t sense even a hint of deceit from him.
but a gang!? and not only that—but he’s the leader?
you sighed, dropping your head to stare at the floor as you walked.
“oi, slut.”
you froze, every cell in your body turning to stone as you registered who that voice belonged to. you couldn’t help but turn around slowly, praying to every deity there was that it wasn’t who you thought it was.
“that’s what you’re doing now? fucking with gang leaders?”
the lens of his glasses glinted in the moonlight, amber eyes glowering at you from behind them.
“thought you were done with men after we broke up,” he sneered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second as he stalked towards you.
“kisaki…?” god, you hated how your voice trembled.
“oh, so you still remember me,” he said, continuing his pace towards you. you backed up, backed up without thinking until you were pricked in the back by some family’s bush, thin branches and leaves threatening to leave holes in the soft fabric of your cardigan. “you still remember me, even though now you’ve got time to fuck around with guys like manjiro.”
your breath hitched at the mention of his name.
“how did you—”
“i saw everything, saw you simpering and giggling with him—what, did you think that because he got coffee for you that he’d be a different person?”
“w-what do you mea—”
a kick to the chest left kisaki on the floor, dumbfounded as to how he got there.
manjiro stood in front of you protectively, ken at his side.
“take her home,” ken muttered quietly.
“you think i don’t know that?” manjiro quipped, but his expression softened as he turned to you. “are you alright? come, i’ll walk you back.”
you nodded blankly, taking shallow breaths in an attempt to calm your trembling body.
he looked at you worriedly, but decided against saying anything. he merely took your hand in his, entwining your fingers softly in his.
your body moved on autopilot, only able to put one foot in front of the other because it was something you’d done for over twenty years.
“did he hurt you?” he asked, holding your hand securely.
you shook your head, wide-eyed. after all this time, he still came to find me.
“y—of course, you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable or anything, but.. what was he to you?”
“my ex,” you said, shaky voice piercing the otherwise still serenity of the night. “the last guy i ever dated.”
“mmm.”
the sounds of your combined footsteps filled the air, thick with unasked and unanswered questions.
“he was abusive,” you said quietly, voice so low that it almost came out as a whisper. “not, like, physically, he didn’t hit me or anything—but mentally. made me feel worthless and shitty, and like i’d never amount to anything unless i stayed with him.”
manjiro balled his free hand into a fist at your words, knuckles whitening as they sunk in. he knew kisaki was a piece of shit, knew that there was something wrong with the guy—but it was too late. he and ken were too late, and kisaki had found you.
he swallowed his anger.
“did he say anything weird to you?”
“he mentioned you, actually, kinda seemed like you knew each other.”
“we do,” manjiro said grimly. “we have a shit history together, too.”
“oh.”
you couldn’t do this tonight. you probably couldn’t do it tomorrow, either. seeing kisaki had drained the energy from your body, bringing back in floods the awful, god awful memories of your years together.
“it’s this place, right?”
he stopped, causing you to nearly bump into him as you continued mindlessly walking. you blinked, the familiar front garden and walkway slowly coming into focus in your vision.
“y-yeah,” you said, staring blankly.
“i’ll wait for you to go in, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly, loosening his grip on your hand.
you shook your head silently.
“what’s wrong? oh, i should walk you to your door—come, y/n.”
he led you slowly to your doorstep, keeping an eye out on the sidewalk behind you as you fumbled with your keys, finally unlocking the door.
“sleep tight,” he said, squeezing your fingers. “text me if you need anything.”
don’t leave.
you shook your head once more, simply gazing at him with empty eyes.
“hmm? is something wrong?”
“can you come in with me?”
“i…” he searched your eyes apprehensively. “yeah, i can—of course.”
silently, he followed you in, locking the door behind you.
“i’m scared,” you said quietly, your emotions laid bare on your face.
“it’s okay, i got you—i’m here. i can stay until you fall asleep.”
manjiro gulped, hoping that if he swallowed hard enough, his heart would stop beating so damn wildly.
you nodded simply.
“help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” you said, an awkward formality. with a meek smile, you turned and padded off to the bathroom to shower.
once he heard the water running, he sunk down into the plush cushions of your living room sofa, checking his phone to find updates from ken. relieved, he read ken’s messages to find that kisaki had been taken care of.
he let out a long, slow exhale, wondering how he’d ended up in your apartment. looking around, he found that traces of you could be found everywhere: in the simple, neat way you arranged your things, the hints of color in the accessories, the stuffed animal sitting in the corner chair—
the stuffed animal that’d once belonged to him.
vivid memories flooded back, surging into his brain at once as his memory played back in his mind like a movie reel. he remembered suddenly how you’d chased him around the playground, screaming and laughing as you ran with your arms outstretched, gunning straight for the stuffed bunny he’d held in his arms. he remembered suddenly how he’d even gotten it—his older brother, shinichiro had won it at some arcade and brought it home for him, and how the first thought his childish brain had upon seeing the doll was that you would probably like it. he remembered suddenly showing up to your childhood house with that same bunny in his arms, presenting it to you on your sixth birthday, and how your eyes had lit up with childish glee upon receiving it.
there he sat on your sofa, so entirely lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed the single, hot tear rolling down his cheek, nor your re-entrance to the room, fresh from your shower.
“you’re gonna stay ‘til i fall asleep, right?”
he nodded, quickly wiping the fallen moisture from sight.
“yeah, are you going to bed now?”
“yeah.”
“okay.”
he followed you to your bedroom, sitting gingerly at your dresser as you tucked yourself into your covers.
what am i doing? you wondered hazily. inviting a guy you liked, but barely knew into your home—and not only that, but to wait for you to sleep. and he’s the leader of the gang. somehow, that seemed like the least important fact about him.
but your body acted on its own, acting according to an autopilot you didn’t know you’d had configured.
you extended your hand out to him, looking at him with innocent eyes, silently pleading for him to take your hand in his.
he understood and willingly obliged, sitting at the very edge of your mattress and entwining your fingers in his once more.
“good night,” he said, his smooth voice blanketing your frazzled mind and offering some semblance of comfort. “i’ll be here, don’t worry.”
you nodded, blinking sleepily.
what am i doing… you asked yourself wearily, but at this moment, you found that you didn’t even have the energy to care. all you wanted, desperately, desperately needed was something to distract you from kisaki tetta, to rid you of all the shitty memories and to hold you and make you feel like everything would be okay.
his hand was warm, engulfing yours, and you held it close to your cheek, laying on your side.
you drifted off easily, his smell and warm, comforting presence cleansing you of your fears.
manjiro’s phone buzzed in the jacket that he left in your chair, and he willfully ignored it, choosing instead to watch you sleep. a sense of relief settled in his heart watching the slight crease in your forehead smooth out, leaving your expression otherwise sweet and peaceful.
his eyes flickered to your nightstand, the framed picture causing his heart to jump into his throat.
there he was, his blonde hair a sloppy mess atop his head, and there you were, clinging to his arm—just as you always had, when you were little.
when things were simpler, he thought, with a pang.
he’d never wanted to leave you.
when shinichiro died, his family was broken, opting to leave the neighborhood altogether in an ugly attempt to cope with their grief. but it only broke little mikey further, first being so cruelly separated from his beloved brother, and then ripped from his beloved you.
for the past twenty or so years, he’d spent much of his time wondering how he’d apologize to you, how he’d confess that you were his childhood love—if he’d ever see you again.
and then one day, like destiny you’d been brought to each other. and now, like destiny, he sat at the edge of your bed, holding your hand as you drifted to sleep.
it wasn’t before he was just a centimeter from your face that he realized what he was doing, and he moved to pull away when you suddenly shifted, bringing your lips to meet his.
the sudden contact woke you from your sleep, and you opened your eyes to see a pair of familiar, dark eyes gaping at yours.
familiar, dark eyes that strangely reminded you of—
“mikey…?” you asked, bleary and dazed from your sleep.
he shrunk back slightly, his ears ringing with the sound of his heart drumming in his chest.
“yeah,” he said hoarsely, swallowing hard. “it’s me—it’s mikey, y/n.”
blinking away the fogginess, you stared at him in disbelief until something clicked in your brain.
“manj—mikey?” you asked, sitting up, heat rising quickly to your face. “you’re mikey?”
nodding, he searched your eyes for any hint of your thoughts.
how could you not have realized?
“mik—my mikey?”
he stilled, confused.
“yours?”
your face grew even hotter, realizing what you’d said.
“i mean—” he started.
“it’s you, right?” you interrupted. “you knew i was—that i was me, right? why didn’t you say anything?”
he didn’t have an answer, merely dropping his head down to avoid eye contact.
“it’s like i said before, y/n. i… i didn’t think i deserved to be able to tell you.”
“why did you leave me?”
your words rang raw with emotion, hiding the twenty years’ worth of pent up tears and childish fits behind them.
he swallowed, hard.
“shin died.”
oh.
“my parents decided it was best—for them—to just… leave. leave behind this neighborhood where we’d grown up with shin. it was too much for them, i guess.”
you gripped your sheets until they balled up in your fists, overwhelmed with feelings and emotions you thought you’d safely locked away two decades ago.
“you were my first love, you know.”
mikey spoke simply, quietly, as though what he’d just confessed was a simple fact, not to ever be denied or argued with.
“you don’t have to say anyth—”
“stupid,” you cut him off, staring at him with shining eyes brimming with hot tears. “you were mine, too.”
time slowed for mikey, each passing second feeling like an hour as he took in what you’d said.
“and i wanted to confess first.”
you grabbed his wrist, pulling him into you and bringing his lips home, home to yours, and briefly you felt the trickle of a tear that wasn’t yours spill onto your cheek.
your lips were soft on his chapped ones, and for a couple of sweet, sweet moments the two of you stayed together like that, pouring the emotions of two small children who’d never had their feelings validated into this one sweet, simple kiss.
trembling still, you lifted your other hand to caress his cheek, wiping away the tear that had already fallen and mixed with yours.
he caught your wrist, wrapping his other arm around you, doing what he’d wanted to do ever since the day he left you back then—holding your body close to his, he tried to remember every bit of detail of how your body fit perfectly in his arms, how it felt so right holding you, and never wanting to let go.
his tongue slipped past your lips, dancing with yours in a slow waltz as if silently apologizing for not having done this earlier.
you moved your arms to wrap around his torso instead, guiding him onto the bed where you lay, and he knelt with one knee between your thighs, hovering over your body as he kissed you.
it were as though a little voice in your head continued to chant it’s mikey! he loves me! he loves me too! in disbelief, and you grew so tired of the incessant chatter that you let yourself go, leaving your mind blank as you entrusted yourself to mikey.
“can i?” he whispered, pulling slightly at the loosened strap of your sleep tank.
you nodded, studying his face up close as you hadn’t been able to do for over two decades.
“you’ve aged,” you laughed softly, rubbing gentle circles into his cheek with the pad of your thumb.
“because i missed you too much,” he replied simply, nothing but sincerity shining through his dark eyes.
that silenced you, and you merely lay there, letting him push your strap down your shoulder as he leaned down, pressing featherlight kisses down the line of your neck and collarbone.
his breath tickled you, and you trembled beneath him, prompting him to stop in concern.
“is this okay? should i stop?” he asked, searching your eyes for an answer to an unspoken question.
you shook your head. “it’s nothing, don’t worry—i’m just… i’m just happy.”
the relief was evident in his face, and he attempted to hide his smile by burying his face in the crook of your neck, cradling the back of your head in his palm.
“i’m sorry for not telling you earlier, the moment i met you,” he confessed. “i wanted to, especially since i didn’t even know that the other girl was going to be you. but i thought that maybe telling you would fuck things up, and i didn’t want to risk not seeing you again.”
you squeezed his shoulder tight, understanding.
“i get it, mikey,” you said, smiling inadvertently at the way his childhood nickname slipped so easily from your lips. “nothing’s changed in the way i feel for you. i love you, still.”
his face burned, and he stayed silent, his mind and chest bursting with so many feelings that he had no room left for words. instead, silently he continued to pepper your skin with kisses, peeling away the blanket that separated your bodies.
you gasped lightly as the cool air rushed around your bare skin, his hand gliding along the line of your waist to hitch under the hem of your tanktop, resting finally at the area just below your rib cage.
if he was going to be honest, he was afraid to touch you still. afraid to make a wrong move, afraid to scare you away and afraid to ruin this golden chance he had at pursuing the lifetime love that he’d tried so ardently to lock away.
sensing his hesitation, you took his hand in yours and guided it up to your breasts, entangling your other hand in his hair.
he understood, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers, blood rushing to his cock at the sound of your pitchy breaths. his other hand dipped below the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them delicately until you lifted your hips, allowing him to pull them down, exposing your panties.
mikey lifted his head, drinking in the sight of your nearly naked body beneath his. on so many restless nights—nights that he couldn’t say he was particularly proud of—he’d imagined what it would feel like to finally have you, finally have confessed and finally be able to love you, all of you like he’d always wanted to do.
shyly, you tugged too at his shirt, a cute attempt at lifting it over his shoulders.
chuckling, he sat up and pulled it off in one go, leaving you slightly stunned, unable to string any words together as you examined the gentle ripples his muscles made each time he moved. silvery scars lined his skin here and there, littering his chest and even parts of his stomach.
noticing your diverted attention, he dipped down to plant a light kiss to your forehead.
“i’m okay, don’t worry. they didn’t hurt me—i’m really strong, you know.”
“oh yeah? if you’re so strong, then how’d you get these scars in the first place?” you quipped.
“what? strong people can’t get scars?” you both chuckled, and gone were your anxieties and worries.
he undid his pants, sliding them off easily and flinging them to the side in one motion, and slid your panties down your legs in the next.
“so pretty,” he breathed, unthinkingly bringing his finger down to your wet slit, gathering up the juices that had started to pool and staring at the way it strung to his fingers even as he pulled away.
you found yourself yearning even more for his touch, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation of where he would touch you next.
he brought his finger to his tongue, licking at the slick that remained.
“so sweet,” he continued, and your pussy throbbed at his words.
pulling down his boxers, you watched as his cock sprung free, slapping his abs.
he stroked it languidly as he bent over you, lining himself up with your dripping cunt.
“are you sure?” he asked you, darkened eyes sure to catch any hint of ingenuity.
you nodded wordlessly, lifting your hands to rest on his shoulders.
you swore that the moment he entered you must have been the most heavenly thing you’d experience, the instant in which the two of you finally got what you wanted—it felt so good, so so good that it almost felt too good to be true, and your synchronous moans filled the room, invisibly settling in the air, surrounding your bodies.
your grip on his shoulders grew tighter, your knuckles whitening from the pressure.
a whispered string of curses fell from mikey’s lips as he threw his head back, basking in the pleasure your walls brought him, squeezing and pulsing around his size.
you wrapped your legs tight around his lower back, keeping him in you, moaning as you did so.
“f-fuck, mikey,” you mewled, straining your neck from the way he filled you up.
“say it again,” he panted, hips stuttering at your words. “my name—say it again, please—”
“oh’m god, mikey—feels s’good,” you breathed, eyebrows furrowing as he continued to hit that perfect, fleshy spot inside you.
he groaned, nearly unraveling in that very second. his thrusts grew longer and harder, his balls slapping the curve of your ass with each stroke.
your nails dug crescent shapes into his shoulder blades as you cried out, the feeling of being so utterly filled up only adding to the pressure you felt in your lower stomach.
mikey pressed a thumb to your clit, rubbing soft, sloppy circles into the tight bud in hopes of hearing you cry out harder, cry out his name harder, louder, so that your voice would carry through the thin walls of your apartment and reach your neighbors, unsuspecting strangers who knew nothing of the love between you two but would know going forward that you were his, and he was yours.
“s-so tight,” he muttered, as if in disbelief. “so good, all f’r me, all mine, right love?”
you nodded desperately, heat flooding over your entire body as you felt that knot in your stomach threaten to burst.
one particularly hard thrust later, and you broke, melting into a puddle in his arms, coming undone in the overwhelming pleasure of your orgasm.
he held you tight, fucking you even through your spasms, hoping to draw out every last moan and mewl you had left inside you.
your pussy fluttered around him as he fucked you through your high, squeezing and pulling him in deeper each time he attempted to pull out, and he was unsure of how much longer he could possibly last.
“mmnh—! ‘s too much, too much mikey,” you gasped, your whole body left trembling.
but he paid you no attention, rutting into you ruthlessly just so he could hear the squelch of your pussy sucking him in one more time.
he lowered his head to latch onto your nipple, sucking and massaging your breasts with his hand, wiping your mind entirely blank.
“mik—mikey!” you whined.
“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he cooed, lifting his head from your chest. “let me show you how much i love you.”
once again burying his head in your chest, he continued to pump into you, chasing his own release.
“you’re so fucking wet,” he said, his voice feverish and nearly delirious. “can’t believe i finally get to have you, get to do what i’ve been dreamin’ of—”
the way your pussy clenches around him at his words drives him over the edge, and with a breathy whine he let go, holding you tight as his cum filled you up, painting your wet walls a warm white, his cock twitching inside with each spurt.
you wrapped your legs tight around him, keeping him in you as he whimpered, hips stuttering through his release.
and there you lay, bodies intertwined to become one, mixed juices dripping from your lips and down the insides of your thighs.
for a few peaceful moments, the only sounds disrupting the serenity of your room were those of your labored breathing and the rustling of your sheets as he brought his arm up to cradle your head once more.
“i told you already and i know you know,” he started, speaking into your neck. “but i love you, y/n, love you so much and always have.”
you stroked his hair affectionately, smiling though he couldn’t possibly see it.
“yeah, i know. and listen—i told you already ‘nd i know you know, but i love you too, mikey.”
“y/n.”
“hmm?”
“be mine? it’s… it’s all i ever wanted.”
his tone was quiet, sincere, hesitant, even, as his heart flew to his throat, anticipating your answer.
you hugged him tight, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing him impossibly harder.
“is this you renewing your marriage proposal?” you giggled.
“you remembered that?” he asked bashfully, after a beat of silence.
“how could i forget? did you!?”
“no, no, just surprised is all.” he swallowed, hoping to embed this moment forever into his memory. “well… what if i said yes?”
“like, this is a renewal of that old proposal?”
“depends.”
you broke out into a wide smile, hands balling into fists at his back.
“then what if i said yes to your proposal?”
“i’d tell you i loved you again.”
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masterlist
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taglist: @misslovingpearl @tsookieloopie
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realm-of-rosie · 3 years
Text
✎ Romantic | Tokyo Revengers
↠ Mikey / Manjiro Sano × Reader
↠ Fluff | Scenario
↠ Before You Read:
LISTEN I KNOW HAVEN'T FINISHED WATCHING IT YET AND ILL CONTINUE IT TOMORROW BUT THIS THOUGHT WOULD NOT LEAVE MY HEAD UNTIL I WRITE IT DOWN OKAY? sorry if he's a little ooc hwehwe it's my first time writing for tokyo revengers- and im like picturing a high school setting for this scenario 😌 ill add tokyo revengers to my rules and stuff tomorrow.
↠ Rules for Requesting | Masterlist
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though you shouldn't be condoning this behavior, you couldn't help but laugh at the three boys attempting to throw your boyfriend into your window quietly as not to alert your parents or nosy neighbors (who would then alert your parents).
"careful!" you bite on your lower lip to stifle the fond smile growing on your face when mikey finally reached your window sill and sat down, looking down at the other two who gave him matching thumbs ups.
"surprise!" he greets you with a dopey smile, nuzzling your nose against his.
"my parents are gonna kill you then me if that find out,"
"so? adds some thrill to my life,"
"there is plenty thrill in your life already, no need for my parents to threaten your life too,"
"we're kinda like romeo and juliet!" mikey wiggles his eyebrows playfully, "romantic, isn't it?"
"romeo was dating a 12 year old," you wrinkle your nose in distaste, "and do you know how many people died as a result of their questionable relationship?"
"erm, a lot?"
"exactly! now isnt that romantic," you tease, laughing at his expression, "plus they both died at the end-"
"alright, alright, i get it," he nudges your shoulder with his before shoving his hand into the bag he had to pull out a thin chain that had a dangling charm on it, "i got this for you,"
"a necklace, huh, how romantic," you murmur, rubbing your thumb over the charm, "so what's this for?"
"am i not allowed to give you gifts now?" mikey asks in a faux offended tone as he hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek.
you sigh, "what did you three do now?"
"what makes you think we did something?"
"well-"
an enraged call of your name coming from the other side of your door caused the both of you to freeze, only moving when your father burst through the door with a broom.
"shit, ill see you later then," mikey kisses your cheek and winks at your parents before leaping out of the window and landing directly on top of takemichi and draken with a groan of pain.
"a little warning next time?" the younger cries before they errupt into a run.
"bye!" your boyfriend waves and catches the flying kiss you direct towards him, pretending to pocket it.
your parents were not pleased.
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