#Takashi mitsuya | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gibberishfangirl · 7 months ago

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TOKYO REVENGERS | my girl

Synopsis ✰ they protect their girl from creeps

Characters ✰ Manjiro Sano, Ken Ryuguji, Chifuyu Matsuno, Takashi Mitsuya, Nahoya Kawata, Souya Kawata

Contains ✰ sfw!, catcalling, inappropriate sexual remarks, violence, protective boyfriends, very feminine!reader, f!reader, usage of the words “my girl”, defensive threats, harassment, sticky situation, reader is alone in some scenarios, boyfriends to the rescue

Manjiro Sano ᡣ𐭩

Mikey doesn’t actually think he’s felt this irritated before in his life. his face was kept straight as he was fixated on the situation happening right in front of him. he and ken had gone to meet you after your classes ended only to find this. even ken was unsure of whether or not he should step in himself or wait til mikey makes the first move. “get your dirty hands off me.” you snapped yanking your arm away as the guy had tried to reached over to grab your wrist. mikey knew you could handle your own but it didn’t make sitting on the sidelines any easier. he knew the relationship between you two was kept under wraps for a good reason. it’s not worth messing up and exposing your relationship over some scummy guy… right? no it’s not. “why not? its not like you got a boyfriend or anything. never seen you with another guy.” the guy just wouldn’t take no as an answer. how pathetic mikey thought.

“she already said no. take the hint.” mikey warned. the guy glanced over at mikey understanding what mikey meant by his words. to anyone else it might’ve just sounded like a guy saying to leave the girl alone already but what mikey really meant was “take the hint before i make you back off myself” and the guy read that message loud and clear. “oh yeah? and who are you? her boyfriend or something?” ken couldn’t even help but scoff as well at the guys response. how crazy do you gotta be to not only be able to not take a hint but also challenge the person who’s warning you. “i guess you could say something like that.” mikey said stepping up to the guy. “uhm.. draken?” you whispered over at the tall guy implying that he should break it up. “alright, mikey let’s just go it’s not worth it c’mon.” Draken placed a hand on mikey’s shoulder before gesturing over towards you with his head. mikey glanced over at you before coming to terms with the fact that he shouldn’t make such a scene in front of you. it’s not very gentlemanly of him is it? ugh he can hear mitsuya’s and ken’s lectures from a mile away.

“fine whatever, better not catch sight of your face again.” mikey said before shoulder checking the guy and walking over to you two to leave. the walk to the restaurant was silent as draken led the way. you were grateful mikey was willing to stand up to the creep for you. you felt a blush creep up to your cheeks as you grabbed mikey’s hand pulling him back to you. he glanced at you to ask what was wrong but you placed a quick soft kiss on his lips before he could. “thanks for defending me.” you mumbled after trying to avoid any sort of eye contact with the man. “well yeah… you’re my girl.” now it was mikey’s turn to blush as he realized what he said. a cheeky smile was plastered on your face as mikey was now the one avoiding eye contact. he looked over to see draken still distracted as he was far ahead of you two, glancing at all the buildings you were walking past. mikey was slightly relieved to know he won’t have to deal with any teasing later… but with his luck draken most likely still saw the scene unfold from the corner of his eyes.

Ken Ryuguji ᡣ𐭩

Draken was unfortunately used to you having secret admires and despite to his own likings, he’s also used to the not so secret admirers. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t care about the amount of perusers that followed you around on a daily basis. it especially annoyed him whenever there were times he couldn’t be near you due to work or being busy. you were gorgeous, it couldn’t be helped if others stared and recognized that fact as well. he knew better than anyone else how easy it was to get swept off his feet by you. he wasn’t jealous or insecure, he trusted you with his life. he was more protective and concerned about the creeps who couldn’t take no for an answer. he was working on a bike with mikey when you were walking to his place. you were so busy texting on your phone and listening to some music with your earbuds on that you didn’t catch onto the amount of catcalls being made.

Draken took notice as he heard the commotion of the busy street from his garage which was opened. he felt his mood change from frustration to a positive one as he first caught sight of your face. only for his mood to go back to frustration as he listened more clearly to the noise being made. how could you be so dense, the least you can do is be more aware of your surroundings. well draken can’t completely blame you for this, you were so used to his security and protection to the point where you knew you were pretty safe at all times. “be right back.” ken threw the dirty rag he was holding onto the floor before walking over to you. better he get to you now so he can walk you the rest of the way without any issue. at least that’s what he originally thought before he noticed another guy walking up to you as well. “hey! i’m talkin to you ya know!” the guy was clearly irritated by your lack of reaction to his catcalls. he was trying to get your attention for the past minute now while you kept walking ignoring the world behind you.

his loud voice snapped you out of your trance as you turned to find a hand try to make its way on your shoulder. luckily enough he wasn’t able to make any contact with you as his arm was stopped mid air by a strong grip of a very much taller and muscular blonde haired man. “you’re talking to me now.” draken responded for you as he threw the guys arm away from your direction. “stay outta this.” the guy glared at draken unsure of what he business he even had doing here. “can’t. not when your tryna put your hands on what’s mine.” draken was intimidating for sure with the way he towers over everyone and the cold demeanor he can manage to get at times like this. before the guy could even say anything draken cut him off by telling him “get lost before i change my mind.” draken didn’t need to repeat the phrase twice before the guy ran off. you were lost in confusion as you removed your earbuds “what happened?” you tilted your head to the side unsure of what just played out in front of me. draken couldn’t help but let out a small smile as he sighed “nothing, don’t worry about it. you’re lucky you’re my girl.” he laughed half joking at the last part since he really does tend to save you a lot of the time.

Chifuyu Matsuno ᡣ𐭩

Chifuyu always swore to protect you and be by your side for as long as you’ll let him. he always tried to be a gentleman in every way but damn situations like this made it so hard for him to not snap in front of you. sometimes it just couldn’t be helped. the two of you had gone on a date and this idiot wouldn’t stop following you around trying to ask for your number or get your attention. it was beginning to make you uncomfortable and it was pissing him off. he hated the guy already for trying to make a pass on you but he hated him for making you uncomfortable even more. the guy tried to swing his arm around you but failed at the attempt as Chifuyu slapped his hand away. “man, this shit is so uncool. cant you get a hint? she doesn’t want you. take the hint and keep your hands off my girl.” he reached his breaking point and he was done trying to be nice. “ha, your girl? you’re joking right? no way someone like you gets someone like her.” the guy laughed him off which unfortunately for him pissed Chifuyu off even more. he didn’t necessarily think he was wrong in a way since he believes your totally out of his league. he just hated how he really couldn’t take no as an answer.

“yeah well she’s clearly not with someone like you is she? trust me, it’s for a reason.” Chifuyu snapped back clearly striking a nerve as the guy was visibly upset by the comment. “you trying to start something?” “pretty sure you already did that part when you came up to us with your bullshit. so yeah. why don’t you come show me up if you think your tough shit.” Chifuyu challenged, gently placing your shopping bags down near you before stepping up to the guy. the guy was taller than him by almost a full foot but it didn’t scare Chifuyu. he’s handled bigger guys before and wasn’t afraid to take a punch. he especially wasn’t afraid to throw one either. a crowd started to form around the three of you as people sensed the tension. “uhm ‘fuyu maybe we should just go.” you tried to reason with him as you ran a hand up and down his bicep trying to settle him down. “yeah listen to your little girlfriend she doesn’t want to see you get hurt.” the guys words struck a nerve in you as you couldn’t stand the way he just tried to talk down your boyfriend in front of you.

“actually you’re the one who should be more worried. not him.” you glared at the guy who was clearly caught off guard by your statement. you took a step back well aware of what was about to happen as the fight broke out, Chifuyu gladly swinging the first punch. you had to admit you were a bit sad that you both got banned from the mall for a month. “im sorry i ruined our date.” Chifuyu softly spoke as he began to warm up the car. he really did feel bad for ruining the day, guilt and frustration was displayed upon his perfect face. “it’s okay, don’t stress about it… i can’t believe you really got into a fight for me.” you changed the topic as you were undeniably in awe at Chifuyu’s protective behavior. you never had anyone defend you the way he has before, it felt nice. “well of course! i will always defend you, you deserve the best and i won’t stand for someone treating you like a piece of meat.” he loudly spoke. his voice came out more passionately than he wanted it to. a blush spread around his face in embarrassment. however, his heart melted as you placed a kiss on the small scar the guy had left on his cheek bone. it was the only hit the guy managed to get before Chifuyu pummeled him into the ground. “my hero.” your words went straight into his heart.

Takashi Mitsuya ᡣ𐭩

Mitsuya was one of the most gentle beings you’ve met. imagine the shock that came when you found out he was a part of a gang and is even a captain. you couldn’t believe it. he never expressed any negative emotions around you and had never once lost his cool. it felt unreal at times since you were sure he had his moments like everyone else but he was still so kind. maybe being an older brother to sisters helped him with that. he was always kind and soft spoken with you which is why you never would’ve thought you would get the chance to see him arguing with another man with you right behind to witness it all. you began to wonder if Mitsuya even remembered you were there as he continued to bicker. the situation had been building up for some time so you couldn’t necessarily blame Mitsuya for finally reaching his breaking point. you had an admirer on campus who wouldn’t stop trying to ask you out despite being informed you were already in a relationship.

you felt awful for finding this so attractive. the way his brows furrowed and a sharp glare was found in his eyes made your stomach swirl. “take it easy man, it wasn’t ever that serious.” the guy tried to ease the situation as he noticed the demeanor shift in Mitsuya. “take it easy? not that serious? you go around trying to harass my girl every other day and you think i’ll just be okay with that?” you and Mitsuya don’t attend the same school so he never witnessed the guy’s behavior towards you until he decided to surprise you today after school. he had heard the rumors of you having an annoying admirer but he didn’t assume it was this bad. “you’re never even here. how was i supposed to know the boyfriend actually exists when he’s never to be found.” the guy shrugged. the way he was so shameless baffled everyone around you. Mitsuya had reached his breaking point and grabbed the guy by his collar raising his fist up. only to be stopped by you tugging his school sweater. he let out a sigh before dropping the guy. he was embarrassed. you could tell by the way cheeks flushed once he saw your face. “get outta here before i change my mind.”

“i’m sorry you had to see that.” Mitsuya spoke with shame. he never wanted you to see this side of him since he didn’t want you to be scared of him. not that you ever could be, you knew him all too well to ever think of him in a negative light. “it’s okay-it was hot.” your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up. you immediately regretted saying that as your face flushed a bright shade of red. “i-you shouldn’t say such things!” Mitsuya scolded you. his expression was mixed with shock and embarrassment. how can you find that attractive?!!?!?!!! “i’m sorry!” you bowed apologetically. that wasn’t the type of reaction he was expecting to receive from you. he didn’t think you were even capable of having inappropriate thoughts. the two of you didn’t speak much as he walked you home. “…so what about it did you find hot?” he teased finally breaking the ice. “shut up!” you blushed as you ran away from him. he of course caught up quickly but seeing your shy expression made the running worth it. he couldn’t help but smile now whenever he thought back to that moment.

Nahoya Kawata ᡣ𐭩

unlike his fellow captain Mitsuya, Nahoya had no shame in his violent behavior. he didn’t care about fighting in front of you or not. if someone started shit with him it didn’t matter who he was with he was for sure ending it right there and then. it wasn’t uncommon for your boyfriend to get into a couple fights here and there around you. if anything you being there was a motivator for him as he wanted to impress you. can you blame him? he’s a show off and loves to show off to you especially. he wants you to be able to recognize all his strengths as a person. he wants to prove that you can always rely on him no matter what. he’s a prideful man who never backed down from a challenge. of course he would never put you in jeopardy at any cost. he never acted aggressive towards you specifically (he would never even think about raising his voice at you) and he always kept a distance from you when he was about to escalate a fight. he wouldn’t forgive himself if you got caught in the cross fire.

the two of you (and souya who was sulking in the background) had been walking together to your favorite coffee shop. you were craving one of their signature drinks and Nahoya being the good boyfriend he is offered to purchase one for you. you had your arms crossed behind your back as you were skipping ahead of your boyfriend as the two of you were caught up in some chatting about his latest gang drama. he loved telling you stories about him and his friends. however, a certain wolf whistle caught his ear as it sounded particularly loud in your direction. Nahoya and Souya both looked around to try to see who made the noise. it was a busy street so you simply ignored it since you didn’t even think the whistle was towards you. “nice ass!” a guy laughed as he walked past you making sure to eye you up and down one last time as he began to walk way ahead of you. you felt incredibly uncomfortable by the comment as realization settled. the uncomfortable feeling soon got replaced by wary as you looked at your boyfriend. he wasn’t even looking at you and you had a strong feeling about what was going to happen.

“hey! watch your fucking mouth when talking to my girl asshole!” without thinking twice Nahoya swooped down to grab a half empty cup on the side of the road and chucked it right at the guy grabbing his attention. Nahoya had good aim as the cup hit the side of the guy’s head. the mystery liquid spilled all over him causing some people in the crowd to gasp or laugh. the guy immediately starting walking up to Nahoya who was already running straight towards him ready to give him a piece of his mind more like his fists. Souya ran up to you concerned “are you okay?” “yeah i’m okay.” you reassured him. once he knew you were okay he ran to go back up his brother in case of any other trouble. the way the two brothers were always ready to rescue you never failed to amaze you. of course Nahoya does it out of pure love and Souya does it because your his friend along with his brothers girlfriend.

Souya Kawata ᡣ𐭩

being in a relationship was all so new to Souya, he was still a shy mess at most times. you were both in the same awkward situation as the two of you were at a party. in all honesty you both didn’t want to be there but had assumed the other wanted to go and you couldn’t bring yourselves to say no. now there’s some creep who has been trying to offer you drink after drink. “no thank you, i’m not much a drinker.” you politely declined. you weren’t sure how to handle this as Souya got pulled away by his friends for a moment to handle something outside. you were starting to run out of excuses to reject drinks and he wasn’t taking no as an answer for long. you kept glancing towards the door hoping for Souya to return soon. you felt your hand get grabbed by someone while you were distracted. you looked over to see the guy once again, this time holding your hand while pleading in a playful tone “ah c’mon don’t be like that. it’s a weekend you should have some fun.”

your hand was pulled from his grasp by someone behind you. you looked over to finally see your savior of a boyfriend. you couldn’t fight back the relieved expression on your face as you relaxed into his embrace. “oh, i see you’ve met my girl.” “your girl?— girlfriend ?! i had no idea, my mistake.” the man apologized warily as he backed off. he made his exist soon after leaving the two of you alone. “ah thank goodness you got here it was getting a bit uncomfortable.” you admitted as you gave him a tight squeeze. “was it?? i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have taken so long. i can take care of it now.” Souya offered as he got ready to follow the guy out. he hadn’t read the situation that well and wasn’t sure what was going on. if he had known he was bothering you for some quite time he wouldn’t had been so calm. “no! it’s fine, you’re here now.” you stopped him by grabbing his hand. now this felt better, his hand in yours felt more comfortable than that other guys.

“are you okay?” he asked trying to read your expression. “yeah i’m okay.” you reassured him with a smile as he held your face in his heads. “hm. okay. let’s get outta here yeah? parties aren’t really my style.” he bashfully admitted. to be frank he was starting to get angsty by how crowded the house was becoming. “yess! i hate parties.” you admitted in response with a sigh of relief. you finally felt like you breathe as you left. “you should’ve told me sooner. i would’ve told everyone no. i always do anyway, i just assumed you would like to come. i’ll make sure to double check next time.” he apologized sweetly as he rubbed the lower of your back as an attempt to make you more comfortable. “i don’t really care what we do. i’m not too picky, as long as we get to be together.” you smiled at him causing him to blush. he couldn’t bring himself to say anything in response but he definitely felt the exact same way.

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cfyslvr · 2 months ago

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"current boyfriend" trend with tr characters!

basically, the "current bf" trend is a generally new trend on tiktok where girls pretend to be filming a regular video with their bfs and calling them "current" boyfriend's to see their reaction!

gets pouty:

he thought this was going to be a cute couple video for tiktok, that's why he agreed in the first place. he was looking at the camera, smiling, until he suddenly heard the words "current boyfriend".

"current?" he asks, his eyes leaving the camera and looking back at you, a small pout appearing on his face. "what do you mean current? am I not your forever boyfriend? am I not good enough to last forever?"

for a second, you can't help but feel bad, he's just so painfully cute all sad and pouty like this. you initially planned to make this prank last as long as possible, but you can't standing looking at him like this.

"I'm so sorry, baby, it was a prank!" you say after a few pathetic seconds, grabbing his face and pulling him into a soft, comforting kiss.

once you pull away, he's still pouting, but no longer looking at you like a sad, kicked puppy. "don't do that again. I'm your forever boyfriend." he states, and you agree. how could you not?

chifuyu matsuno, takemichi hanagaki, souya "angry" kawata, takuya yamamoto, shinichiro sano, hakkai shiba and your favs!

gets offended/mad:

at first, he didn't want to participate in your stupid little tiktoks, why do people care about what you do in a day? after a bit of conviction, he finally said yes to letting his presence be known in your video.

you start the recording and begin talking, all while he's staring straight into the camera with a death glare, as if trying to intimate your phone itself, or trying to tell the audience he is 110% forced to be here. he's not planning on talking, atleast not a lot. all he does is listen to you while staring the phone down, until he hears it—

"what was that?" he asks, looking at you with an even more intimidating death glare, looking as if he was three seconds away from kicking you straight into the face.

"what was what?"

"what did you call me?"

"my boyfriend..?" you try to play dumb.

"that's not what you said. current boyfriend, really? like I'm some iOS update? you planning on finding another one, is that it?" he starts speaking. you can't really tell if he's serious or just joking, since right now it looks like a little of both.

before he can continue verbally attacking you, you cup his face and pull him into a reassuring kiss, letting your lips linger on his for a few seconds before pulling away, laughing.

"it was a prank, I wanted to see your reaction." you explain and he rolls his eyes, although a small smirk appears on his face.

"are you satisfied with my reaction?" he teases you, and you nod approvingly.

inui seishu, rindou haitani, izana kurokawa, taiju shiba, ken ryuguji, baji keisuke, sanzu haruchiyo and your favs!

lowkey plays along:

when you first ask him to be in your tiktok, he refused, not because he didn't want to be part of it, but because he wants you to beg for it. why? because he can.

after he finally accepts your pleading, you immediately start recording and start the prank.

"so I'm here with my current boyfriend and—" you say, and he lowkey just looks at you from the corner of his eye, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"I'm glad my part-time girlfriend trusts me enough to include me in her tiktoks." he says playfully, purposely empathizing the words "part-time", making you turn your head towards him in a slightly surprised manner.

"you really think you can play with me like that, princess?" he asks, the petname slipping naturally as he leans closer and plants a small kiss on the tip of your nose before quite literally getting up and walking away smugly, leaving you speechless.

wakasa imaushi, kokonoi hajime, nahoya "smiley" kawata, mitsuya takashi, hanma shuji and your favs!

doesn't fucking get it </3:

he didn't even notice when you started recording right next to him, too busy with whatever the heck he was doing to notice you adjusting your phone to fit both of you into the frame. you call out to him and tell him you're recording a tiktok and he gives you a half-assed "uh-huh" obviously not paying attention.

you start the recording and immediately begin talking. "so today, I'm with my current boyfriend and—" "current?" he cuts you off, whatever his previous activity was completed forgotten now.

unlike the previous offended, hurt or smug expressions, you don't see any of those on his face, you see pure and utter confusion, as if he has no idea what you're talking about.

you ended the recording early, taking the time to explain that it was a trend where girlfriends called their partners "current", going into details with it, only for this man to straight up go "what that mean?"

manjiro "mikey" sano, yamagishi kazushi, naoto tachibana (hear me out), ryohei "peh-yan" hayashi, haruki "pah-chin" hayashida and your favs!

a/n: I KNOW. I know I have unfinished requests to write and whatnot but I could NOT pass up on the opportunity to write this, plus it's a perfect mixture of a short drabble and full fic so it's PERFECT for me! school ends for me next week and I'm sure I'll have more time to write during summer break so stay tuned loves~

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anisespice · 11 months ago

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random texts #2 || tokyo rev.

synopsis: more shinanigans lol pairing: mitsuya x fem!reader, chifuyu x fem!reader warnings: mature topics ahead, MDI. suggestive language, reader is just being unreasonable for the sake of entertainment (it backfires) (NOT CLICKBAIT)!!!!, mild bullying, vulgar language (pussyyy), kindaaaa toxic behavior(?) and I think that's it :) note: hear ye, hear ye - yet another attempt at fighting writer's block woooo

#🍁wasabi #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyorev texts #tokyorev #tokyo revengers smau #tokyo revengers texts #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya x reader #matsuno chifuyu #chifuyu x reader

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rfyu · 4 months ago

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you catch sight of him again at the bus terminal - that cute boy from your tutorial last year who you’d almost been foolish enough to think you had a chance with. that was until you’d realised takashi mitsuya was just that nice to everyone - the soft smiles that crinkled up the corners of his pretty eyes, the quiet concern, the witty conversation.

devastating.

humiliating, even.

the whole day so far has felt like it’s been leading up to something, and you guess this is it. it’s nearing the turning of the seasons, so the sky is heavy and the air thick with the promise of an oncoming storm. the cold metal of the bench brands ice against the back of your legs as you’re pushed into it by the masses of people waiting for their buses - late, as usual - your view entirely blocked by heads and backs and tote bags. so it almost feels like fate - the way the wind picks up, the crowd momentarily shifts, and your eyes land on him.

your first thought is, damn, he looks exactly the same. all things considering, it’s not the most intelligent thought given it’s only been seven or so months since your breakup - nota bene, the submission of the group project - but he does have a tendency to reduce your neurological function to near-zero levels. and it’s not like you haven’t seen him in the months between; you’ve faithfully watched his stories with a carefully calculated timing that conveys the utmost nonchalance. and though you now know far too much about the food he likes, his design wips, his friends, cats, and motorcycle (a suzuki gsx400fs currently in for repair), you’ve never worked up the courage to text him, to the dismay of your friends who’ve faithfully put in hours of unpaid labour brainstorming the perfect opening lines with you.

but there’s something different about finally seeing him in person again. cameras really don’t do him justice - they don’t capture the way he holds himself with easy confidence, the elegant messiness of his silver-lilac hair in the wind, the calm set of his pale grey-violet eyes. the way he’s always so well put together, in clothes and action and speech. the silhouette of his sharply cut coat, the light glinting off his earring, the way the clouds seem to part and sunlight forms a crown on his head as a choir of angels descend.

bad. this is really bad, because you’re still down bad, and he’s beautiful in the way the moon is - addictive, dominating your sky, impossible to take your eyes off…

at least, that’s until he senses your gaze on him and glances in your direction. you look away so fast you hear something in your neck crack, feigning a casualness you don’t feel at all.

this is fine.

you’re panicking; heat’s rushing to your face despite the biting cold. you can’t help it - you peek back at him, just for a second, and lord up above but he’s still looking at you. and then he gives you his perfect smile, the soft one with the crinkled eyes and the little tilt of his head, and you have never been more grateful to see your bus pull up in your entire life as the crowd surges forward and cuts off the tenuous connection your extended eye contact had formed between you.

there’s still a few empty rows near the back of the bus that you make a beeline for, slipping into the seat closest to the window and pulling your bag onto your lap. there’s music playing, just barely loud enough to hear over the rumbling of the engine.

if you like piña coladas / and gettin’ caught in the rain …

you’re lucky you got to sit down; at the rate people are pouring through the doors, there’s going to be a lot of people left standing, and is that takashi mitsuya? getting onto your bus, gaze searching for empty seats, gaze finding you?

it’s disgraceful how unabashedly you suddenly wish that he’ll take the empty spot next to you as he weaves his way in your direction, your entire body tingling with anticipation - but as he moves towards you and then decidedly past you, you mournfully conclude that’s too much to hope for. at the end of the day, you really don’t know each other that well. he probably doesn’t even remember your name.

the thought makes you a lot sadder than it should.

why’s he on this bus? where does he even live? you’ve never thought about it (lie, you have, you’re just not good enough at stalking to find out - though you assumed it was the student accommodations), but surely he doesn’t take this route. surely he doesn’t need to go to the same station as you. surely there’s not another part of your lives that overlap.

it’s only once the bus starts moving and you rest your head on the rattling window pane that you realise he’s sitting right behind you. after some adjusting - with your chin in your hand and your gaze on the gathering darkness outside - you can clearly make out his reflection in the cool glass if you turn your head the slightest bit.

how does he manage to look so beautiful in a bus window? and at an ordinarily unflattering angle, too? how insane are you for putting this much effort into catching another glimpse of him? (you’ve probably broken the scale of measurement.) but there’s just something about him that makes you weak - that makes your heart flutter and your knees wobble - that makes you stoop down to levels you have never gone to before.

takashi fricking mitsuya will be the death of you.

the bus jerks to a stop, banging your forehead against the window hard enough to leave a bruise and unequivocally bringing an end to your humiliating, down-bad behaviours.

that's it. you’re going to suck it up. you’re going to lock in. you’re not going to pine after a boy who you spent two entire tutorials working with, who doesn’t even remember your—

“sorry, do you mind if i sit here?”

you turn, and the bus accelerates in tandem with your heartbeat.

i’m the love that you’ve looked for / write to me and escape…

“it’s just my other seat’s directly under the air con,” takashi-fricking-mitsuya says pleasantly, “and it’s already cold enough in here.”

your mouth moves automatically before your brain does, giving you a few extra seconds to catch up. “oh, yeah, of course, no worries.”

perfect delivery. chill, friendly. you should turn off your brain more often.

what the hell.

he drops into the seat beside you with far more elegance than any single person should possess. “yn, right? i remember you from last year.”

“yup, yeah, i - remember you as well.”

as if you could forget him. the seats are small; you can feel the warmth of his body, mere inches away from yours. he’s not crazy tall but his legs look insanely long, even folded up - at least next to yours. you need to say something more.

“um, that was a pretty good unit.”

good. great work. you formed a passable sentence.

he does his smile again, eyes crinkling. “yeah, definitely. you can really feel the difference when the chief coordinator actually wants to be there - there’s so much more thought that goes into its organisation.”

you find yourself smiling back, an automatic reaction whenever you’re around him. “though the first assignment really shouldn’t have been a hurdle.”

“i didn’t mind that so much as the fact it was a quarter of the grade.”

“that’s the thing with humanities units,” you shrug. “you get fewer assignments, but they have much higher weightings. it’s a lot more spread out in science.”

“i’d much rather make one good video essay than have to memorise - i dunno, layers of the stomach - and have to submit five different things every week.”

“shall we agree to disagree, then?”

“you probably enjoyed memorising the layers of the stomach,” he accuses.

you laugh. “there’s only four, so it’s really not that bad.”

“what’s your major, anyway?” he asks, tilting his head at you; a lock of hair falls into his eyes. “was last year’s unit your elective?”

you’re doing physiology; he’s doing fashion designing. the conversation continues from there - straying from uni, to interests, to a story about one of his childhood friends involving a near-stolen bike and a case of mistaken identity that’s got you cracking up till you can’t breathe. and to your surprise, it’s all so easy. you’d forgotten how well you get along with him. you almost feel stupid for not reaching out earlier, but as usual, you’d gotten too caught up in your head about it all. takashi-fricking-mitsuya, you realise now, would be a great friend.

there’s so much traffic that it’s another forty-five minutes before the bus finally pulls into the station. you grimace as the doors open, sending a biting blast of cold air and sprinkling rain into your face.

“can we just stay here?”

“you want to loop all the way down to the sea?”

it’s enough motivation for you to grudgingly struggle to your feet and swing your bag over your shoulder, body complaining after having been cramped up for so long. you follow takashi across the platform to the steps leading down to a tunnel that cuts across underneath the railway. he’s walking way too fast; it’s his long ass legs, you’re sure of it. it’s raining lightly outside, but the wind rakes the water across your face like shards of ice no matter which way you bow your head.

“you good?”

he’s slowed down to let you catch up - no, he’s walked back to you - despite the buffeting of the wind and the murderous droplets of water. oh, takashi. even though you’re supposedly now ‘chill’ and ‘just friends’, your stomach still does a little pirouette.

“i’m good,” you grumble. “just this weather.”

he hums in agreement, walking decidedly slower beside you as you pick your way through the crowd and down the slippery steps to the tunnel. you both breathe a simultaneous sigh of relief as you get out of the rain, brushing off the droplets from your clothes. there’s no opportunity for conversation in the crowded space but you stick close together anyway. you’re half expecting him to turn onto another corridor that leads up towards the train, but he doesn’t.

guess we’re both taking a bus again.

most people have cleared off to the trains by the time you struggle the short distance to the end of the tunnel. you take in the set of stairs soaked in rain, the biting air, and the puddles on the winding pathway up towards the road.

“well, this is great,” you say. your shoes are going to get soaked.

and then it starts bucketing.

out of nowhere, the skies open up, and rain comes tumbling down like the sky’s reuniting with the earth as a long-lost lover. it’s deafening, and so thick you can barely see through it.

takashi elegantly strings together a set of curse words you’ve never heard in that particular order before. “why did you jinx it?”

“i did not!”

“you don’t happen to have an umbrella, do you?”

you roll your eyes. “no, i’ve just been subjecting myself to this for fun.”

“i dunno - some people enjoy that.”

“you seem to think very lowly of me.”

(“i don’t,” he says quietly.)

you eye the curtain of water plummeting from the heavens. it eyes you back. there’s nothing to it.

“well, i guess we’re just gonna have to go for it,” you say, inhaling sharply.

“huh? no, wait—”

you sprint out from under cover, and the rain hits you like a bucket of ice, instantly sticking your shirt to your skin and chilling you to the bone in a way that snatches the breath from your lungs. you tuck your chin to your chest and power up the stairs, limbs trembling. oh my god, i hate this. i’m gonna get sick. i’m literally going to die.

“wait, wait, wait—” takashi calls from behind you, yelling over the rain, and of all things he’s laughing as he catches up to you - and then suddenly the rain stops.

you look up and halt abruptly, your heart missing several beats. takashi’s shrugged his jacket off and is holding it above your heads; water streams off his hair, down his face and the contours of his body, where his white shirt has obligingly turned transparent and clings to the muscles of his torso.

“i got you,” he says, voice low next to your ear.

his presence, his proximity, his body heat. you’re going insane. you’re going feral, blood rushing through your head and joining the thundering of the rain. thebonly ‘chill’ thing about this is the weather because it feels like the entirety of your body is alight, drowning in fire, and you have never felt so un-chill about something in your life. every nerve ending, every cell, every atom. you’re poised to implode.

“let’s run,” he offers, and you do.

you don’t know what sets you off - maybe it’s the image of how you must look, him holding the coat above your heads, you with your face scrunched up, heads bowed against the rain as you sprint up the slope - but once you start laughing, neither of you can stop, even when you reach the shelter of the bus stop. you collapse into the side of the stop, struggling to catch your breath.

“it’s really not that funny,” he gasps.

“it kinda is,” you return - but your laughter dissolves fairly rapidly into coughs as the wind suddenly picks up with a passion. you shiver, arms uselessly wrapping around yourself in an attempt to save your dignity (wet, clinging shirt) and possibly your life (freezing to death).

takashi’s positioned between you and the wind - not by design, you’re sure - but it’s not helping much either way. you shudder again and hunch forward, a stray gust blowing rain into your face. as you blink the water from your eyes, you feel a heavy weight drape over your shoulders.

“takashi, i’m fine—”

“you’re obviously not, so just - don’t,” he says amusedly as he pulls his coat tighter around you, and you try not to think about his hands on you, or the way his scent and warmth envelops you.

he’s focused on adjusting the collar around your neck with careful precision, so you have ample time to study the droplets clinging to his eyelashes, the locks of wet hair falling into his eyes, his flushed cheekbones, the slope of his nose and jut of his chin, his lips—

“when’s the next bus?” you blurt, tearing your gaze away. get it together.

he glances up over your shoulder, leaning forward a bit. “um. twelve minutes.”

“what?” you say, hoping you misheard over the rain.

“twelve minutes.”

oh, good lord.

“i’m going to die,” you say, horrified. “i can’t survive another twelve minutes in this.”

“doesn’t look like we have a choice,” he says grimly.

there’s a moment of quiet dismay.

“well!” he says, with an attempt at cheeriness. “since we’re captive here, i might as well bounce off a couple of ideas for that project with you, if you don’t mind.”

“i’d love that,” you say miserably.

luckily for you, it’s genuinely interesting. takashi’s not the type to stay silent about things that matter to him - something you were quick to realise after working with him last year - and that extends to what he creates. his current project’s focused on sharp cuts, statement pieces, and blaring, accusing colours - red, green, black, white.

“political fashion,” he tells you. “clothes that really say something.”

unfortunately for takashi, his professors aren’t too pleased with what he does have to say, and he’s ruffled more than a few feathers in his department. characteristically, it only spurs him on to do more. say more. go bigger. he's sweet, but he doesn't take things lying down either.

“to be honest, i don't even know if they'll let me submit this one,” he says frankly. “but i'm gonna make a fuss either way.”

it certainly helps that he’s a genius with fabrics and cuts and shape language, and after some convincing, he shows you a few of his finished pieces on his phone as you huddle together, unsuccessfully shielding the screen from the rain.

“you’re going to go big,” you tell him. “you've already won a few competitions, right? it's only a matter of time before people take notice.”

“i hope so,” he says. “i'm definitely going to do my best.”

you don't doubt him for a second.

the white noise of rain fills the brief silence between you as another load of people trickle in to join you underneath the meagre protection of the shelter. takashi opens his mouth, closes it; considers you for a moment, head tilted, and then the words rush out.

“y'know, i really think you should model for me sometime.”

“oh, of course,” you say sarcastically, laughing it off, until he holds your gaze for a moment and you realise he’s being serious. dead serious. you've never backtracked so fast in your life. “oh, no, i don't think i'll look good in—”

the words spill out of his mouth, one after the other. “that's literally my job. and you'd probably look good in a trash bag so there's nothing to worry about. i have to work on my fashion photography anyway. might as well be with someone pretty.”

your heart stutters, stops, restarts. you must’ve misheard him over the rain - not one, but two compliments.

“what was - huh?”

his ears are flushed, probably from the cold. “i said, might as well be with someone who works pretty good with me.”

“oh. yeah. i’ll consider it.”

you really shouldn’t be getting your hopes up this easily. pretty? really? (though he undeniably did say you'd look good in a trash bag. surely he was just being polite.)

the rain’s lessened a bit over the course of your conversation, but it decides to pick up again with a vengeance, as if it's got something to prove. you've never been out in weather like this. there's no build up; it's coming down so hard and fast that the road in front of you, completely devoid of the bus that should be here soon, starts looking more like a river. the wind buffets the rain along the surface of the asphalt in wild patterns.

“this is insane,” takashi yells through the downpour.

you pull a face at him in agreement due to lack of faith in your vocal projection skills, feeling goosebumps settle over your skin despite the weight of takashi's jacket over your shoulders. perhaps you should put your arms through it, but that feels a little pretentious, like you’re taking ownership of it. that’s girlfriend behaviour - something, horrifyingly, you’re not.

the train's arrived and a steady stream of people are adding to the crowd already under the shelter, shaking out their umbrellas uselessly amidst muttered curses. you're not usually fazed this easily - but what with the lurking anxiety of the many minutes left for the bus to arrive, the horrific weather, and the crowd inexplicably crushing you, you're slowly losing it. takashi mouths an apology as someone shoulders past and shoves him backwards, his side knocking into your chest, your back hitting the cold glass of the shelter.

his body. solid against yours. for a moment you're sure you've never felt so warm in your life. but the brief giddiness that courses through you is wholly overshadowed by the tight space you've been cornered into, by no fault of takashi's. the frigid air freezes your airways as you struggle to heave in another breath. it's suffocating. agonising. you need oxygen.

and then takashi's arm lifts up to rest on the glass above your head, forcibly creating a small bubble of space around you, his body acting as a wall against the rush of people. he's got a small tattoo on his hand. a rose and stem. your eyes follow the neatly inked lines before they disappear out of your line of vision.

you exhale.

“you okay?”

when you look up at him you realise your faces are mere inches apart.

you can feel his breath fanning on your face, the warmth radiating from his body, count each droplet of rain on his eyelashes. he seems to realise it at the same moment you do, eyes darting up to yours, but for some reason neither of you move.

step away, you think, but he doesn’t. and you don't. like a strange magnetism is holding you in place, gluing his eyes to yours like he can’t look away either. every nerve ending in your body is firing, locking your knees; you're trembling. that stupid song's rotating just one verse around and around in your head—

and gettin' caught in the rain

you're sure he can hear your heartbeat even over the rain with the way it's thundering in your ears. his body frames yours against the shelter, trails of water dripping from his hair to trace his face, from the rise of his brow to the curve of his cheek to his lips, slightly parted as his breath comes out in uneven puffs—

don't goddamn look at his lips, idiot, but your brain's caught up a moment too late. your face burns as you wrench your gaze back up to his eyes. surely he didn't notice, right? but the look on his face steals the air from your lungs all over again. his pupils are dilated; eyes wide, uncertain as they hold yours, flickering, wanting, but even so it feels inevitable when his gaze unmistakably drops to your lips. oh, god help me. it's taking every ounce of self control to not surge forward and close the gap between you and jump his bones, but it feels like you're barrelling towards that anyway. his face and neck are flushed, eyes hooded. the space between you has shrunk even further; your lips part, his head tilts, your lashes flutter, and the bus pulls up at the stop in a shower of puddles.

“oh,” you say stupidly. “the bus.”

“yeah. the bus.”

it’s a small comfort that he seems even more dazed than you. he’s just - standing there. in the middle of a late summer storm. staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world. and it’s flattering and your heart is still galloping in your chest and once you get home you’re going to half-believe you hallucinated this entire thing (because there is no fricking way you nearly kissed takashi fricking mitsuya in the rain - what is this, a romcom?) but you really do need to actually get home in the first place.

“i should—”

“the bus,” he says again, and comes to his senses enough to move backwards a little - to drop his arm from above your head and twist his torso away, giving you as much space as he can. “you should get on the bus.”

“i will. i am.” you’re focused on maintaining basic dignity as your arm presses firmly against the warmth of his chest in your attempt to squeeze past him. you’re getting on the bus, and then you’re crashing out.

you blame the delay on your takashi-induced brain freeze, but it’s only once you’re free of the crowd and one step away from boarding the bus that you realise what’s wrong - he’s not behind you.

you twist around, coat swinging on your shoulders. “you coming?”

“oh, no, i’m taking the train to a friend’s house,” he calls back. you open your mouth to protest but he’s already adding, “the next one’s in two minutes; i’ll be okay.”

he’s taking the train. he’s taking the train? so he was waiting with you this whole time just for you? he chose to be outside in this ghastly weather when he could’ve been halfway home by now?

“any reason why yer floodin’ my bus?” the bus driver barks irritably, and you register the unfortunate fact that you’ve been standing stock still in the doorway like a fool as the rain washes rivlets of mud down the steps around your sodden shoes.

takashi looks a bit too amused as you blunder out an apology and stumble onto the bus, head entirely muddled. there’s barely standing space left, let alone any seats, so you’re resigned to being suffocated between a crush of drenched and irritated people. and it’s only after the bus pulls out of the station - after takashi gives you a smile goodbye before ducking back out into the rain again - after you twist your head to watch his figure receding into the distance until he’s inevitably blocked from your view - that you realise his coat still hangs from your shoulders.

[instagram: (4) messages from mitsuya_tkshi]

takashi :) (19:14) home yet? (19:14) warm? (19:14) dry? (19:14) alive?

you (19:22) what level of double texting is this

takashi :) (19:22) using simple arithmetic id say prob lvl 2

you you reacted :thumbs-down: to ‘using simple arithmeti…’ (19:23) i got home 10 mins ago, hby?

takashi :) (19:23) still in train 😟

you (19:23) free u omg (19:24) also i just realised i still have ur coat im so sorry i didnt give it back 😭 completely slipped my mind (19:24) i was a bit all over the place

takashi :) (19:24) dw, me too (19:26) i’ll be on campus tmrw we can get lunch too ☺️

you (19:30) sounds good!

takashi :) (19:32) !!!!!

you (19:32) !!!!!!!!!!!!!

takashi :) (19:32) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!@#$z5ty

you (19:32) ???

takashi :) (19:33) ?? who knows. (19:34) see u tmrw then :)) (19:34) and u can get back to me about the modelling too if you’ve thought abt it

you (19:35) oh nah there’s not much to think about, i’d love to

takashi :) (19:35) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you (19:35) stop. (19:35) (!!!!!!!!!!!!)

you stare at the screen for a few moments longer until it becomes clear that the conversation’s over, at least for now. you need a hot shower, and you really need to lock in on a lab report, but there’s only one thing on your mind right now. you put down your phone, bury your face in your hands, and - finally - crash out.

takashi fricking mitsuya might certainly be nice to everyone, but something tells you that a near-kiss in the rain is probably a bit more than just friendly - and not only that, but rather than ignoring you for the rest of the semester, he actually wants to see you tomorrow?

maybe you’re not insane. maybe you weren’t hallucinating. maybe you weren’t reading into things.

maybe you do have a chance.

i've got to meet you by tomorrow noon / and cut through all this red tape / [...] you're the lady i've looked for / come with me and escape

in my head they're very chill at lunch very nonchalant the whole jazz, but things get a lil, y'know, when he offers to show you what you'll be modelling for him...

based entirely on very real occurrences in my life

general taglist open - leave a comment or ask !! @revyuu @fushiguruuzzzz

#. rue writes #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #mitsuya takashi #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi x you #takashi mitsuya x you #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x you #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tkr

587 notes · View notes

armxnh · 2 years ago

Text

i know we just met, but i love you

synopsis: love at first sight with the tokyo revengers men.

characters: manjiro 'mikey' sano, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno

genre: fluff

warnings: none (i think...?)

masterlist.

manjiro 'mikey' sano

"ken-chinnnn" the leader of the toman whined at his taller friend. draken rolled his eyes in response, "no mikey, drop it."

"come onnnn-" the said man pouted exaggeratedly, "what did i do wrong?"

"nothing." the delinquent replied taking his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, "you just don't need to eat twenty-five taiyaki."

"sorry to bother you but there are a lot of people who are waiting take their orders so if you could-" daiki, as it was written on his name tag, tried to cut them off from behind the counter.

for the past ten minutes, the two delinquents were arguing about their order. draken wanted to buy mikey five taiyaki, while mikey wanted his friend to buy him twenty-five of them.

draken turned his head to the cashier, "yeah, so five taiyaki and-"

"twenty-five taiyaki." "damn you-"

"hurry up! unlike other people, some of us have important things to do!" a customer yelled from the back of the line.

manjiro snapped his head to the back of the line, narrowing his eyes at the older man who had just yelled at him. "see now you're making people angry, mikey. 'm not gonna spend ¥5,272 on snacks."

"i need to eat a lot if i want to be taller!"

"for the last time. you won't get taller! you are at your maximum height!"

"alright! i'm not going through this again." a soft voice cut both of them before they could start the same argument they had 2 minutes ago. "daiki, i'll pay for their order- just make his goddamn snacks, please."

when manjiro turned to look at the person who 'saved his life', he felt like he has just died and miraculously came back to life as he made eye contact with you.

you were... pretty.

his eyes were set on you, taking in every single detail he could as if he was scared to forget how you look the second he'll look away.

"thank you, but that's not necessary!" draken politely thanked you as you grabbed your fidelity card of the small shop.

"don't worry about it! after all, those fidelity points have to be used for something." you waved him off, looking back at daiki, "could you also add my regular oder with that, please daiki?"

"o-of course, (y/n)!" the young worker quickly tapped your oder in the computer, a red hue covering his cheeks when you smiled at him.

"mikey, what do you say?" draken looked at his friend, hinting him to thank you, but his words fell into deaf ears as mikey kept looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.

"mikey?" He nudged the said man's shoulder trying to snap him out of his thoughts, only to be ignored once more.

the tall blond dropped the smile as he turned to his friend hitting the side of his head, finally snapping him out of his thoughts, "mikey!"

"um? what?" mikey barely glanced at draken when he responded, his heartbeat increasing when you looked back at him with your receipt in hand.

"i said, what do you say to the girl who just bought you your snacks?" he replied, glancing between the two of you clearly wondering why his friend was acting weird all of the sudden.

"marry me."

ken ryuguji never whipped his head to look at his friend so fast in his life. What the hell did he just said?!

you felt your face warm up at his words, chuckling as you walk past him, placing your hand on his shoulder, "do you ask every girl who buys you snacks to marry you?"

manjiro felt like he was in heaven when you stood closer to him. how can someone be so pretty and be so nice and smell so good and be so pretty at the same time.

"what?" toman's leader came back down to earth when you handed him the box filled of taiyaki. "did i say that out loud?" manjiro mumbled, frowning to himself. before looking back at you, just to see you making your way outside. "hey- wait!"

he tossed the snacks at draken jogging to meet you outside of the shop. "w-wait!"

you turned to look at him, the soft summer breeze sweating through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open, "yes?"

"you're (y/n), right?" he asked remembering how the cashier called you when you were ordering, "i'm mikey..." he wanted to say something else but the words got caught in his throat when you smiled at him.

"nice to meet you, mikey" you replied before your eyes drifted behind him to the small group of guys that were looking at the two of you intensely, the 'ken-chin' guy from earlier standing with them. "i think your friends are waiting for you"

manjiro glanced back to see his best friends looking at them with knowing looks on their faces, "never mind them- this is- you are more important."

you looked away from him, his intense eye contact making your face feel warm, "you really know how to talk to girls you know?"

"thank you for earlier... the snacks and all..."

"that was 2 months worth of fidelity points- you better eat every single one of those taiyaki" you playfully warned the gang leader.

"don't worry about that..!" mikey replied knowing damn well that he will inhale those snacks. "can i walk you home? it's going to get dark soon- wouldn't want my wife to get attacked or something!"

wife?!

you suppress a smile at his words, "of course, wouldn't want it to get dark at 2 pm, and then get attacked by who knows what next to a bakery."

"exactly! let's go, wifey!"

takashi mitsuya

"what did you say you're brother's name was?" you asked the crying girl in front of you.

"...t- taka-shi" the small girl sobbed in your shoulder as you gently patted her head.

"alright and what's your name?" you gently asked as you scanned the area trying to find someone who looked like they had just lost their child.

"i- i- i'm mana"

"you have a really pretty name, you know?" you smiled fondly at the girl as you whipped the tears of her face with your thumbs.

"really?"

"heck yeah! it's a badass name!" you felt relief wash over you when you saw a smile spread across the kid's face, "i'm (y/n) and i'm gonna help you find your brother alright?"

"thank you..." she mumbled quietly.

"you're going to hop on my shoulders and tell me when you see your brother okay?" the girl looked up at you with stars in her eyes, you pulled mana on your shoulder, her small hands on your head.

you walked for a good 15 minutes before mana tapped your head with on hand while the other pointed toward an unknown man in the crowd of person, "they're there! that's draken!"

draken? wasn't her brother's name takashi? you wondered as you put mana to the ground your hand grabbing hers just in case she got lost again.

"mana!" a little girl's voice called out as you arrived next to the very tall guy with a dragon tattoo on his head. the small girl that looked very similar to mana hugged tightly the younger girl.

"mitsuya! ' found her" the tall guy called out for someone else behind him. the 'mitsuya' guy appeared from behind the 'draken' guy not long after he called out from him. the purple haired teen practically attacked his sister with a hug, sighing in relief.

"don't ever do that again, mana." he gently scaled his younger sister, "you could've gotten lost and we would've been really sad, al-?"

"it's fine! (y/n) helped me find you!" she pointed her finger at her. mitsuya ruffled his sister's hair, before straightening up to thank the person that help his mini-him, "thank you so mu..."

he felt like the world had stopped moving. like it was only the two of them in the middle of the festival. takashi mitsuya was in a trance. he was simply mesmerized by the sight of you.

"it's no problem, really! " you softly smiled at him, "your sister is a real angel-"

anything else you said after wasn't even registered but the delinquent in front of you. he was usually so good at this- talking to people was what he did best so... why couldn't he utter a single word for you.

his cheeks were red, his palm were sweaty, why was he anxious?- he was hanging on everything you did. even if he felt like he had forgotten how to speak, your voice felt like melody to his ears.

he snapped out of his trance when someone nudge his shoulder. mitsuya glanced at draken beside him, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone and that you were talking to him.

you looked at him with a puzzled look, "are you alright?

your question made him overthink about everything that happened in the last 2 minutes of your meeting. Did he look like a creep?

"i- i- great."

the hell was that takashi? he cursed himself.

darken cleared his throat, holding back his laugh. he brought his fist to his mouth faking coughs as he muttered a small, "real smooth, mitsuya".

you chuckled at his friend's comment, making mitsuya straighten up, you pulled out your hand for him to shake.

"let's start over, alright? i'm (y/n)... you're takashi right?"

draken stepped up clearly expecting his friend to be to lost in space to answer you, "he prefers mitsuya-"

"takashi's fine!" the said man interjected, as he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it, sending one of his pretty smile in your direction.

"i-"

"are you going to marry my brother?" he couldn't catch a break could he? luna asked you with big eyes.

you chuckled softly at her words, "how about this... i will give my number to your brother. then we'll go out to eat something to talk about marriage alright?"

"yes!" the girl tightly hugged your leg as you said that.

"does that sound like a plan to you, takashi?" yes!

mitsuya hurriedly started to look in his pocket for a pen, when draken pulled one out of his pocket with a piece of paper and handed it to the purple haired boy, "there you go, casanova"

takashi handed you the paper and the pen, before you wrote your name with your phone number on it.

"see y'a soon, taka! bye, mana don't get lost again alright?"

as soon as you were out of sight takashi turned to draken with a stern look, "not a word about this, alright?"

"you're crazy!" draken crackled putting his hand in his pocket, "i'm going to tell everyone!"

"draken!"

"as your wingman i feel like it's my responsibility-"

"no it is not!"

chifuyu matsuno

"hurry up, chifuyu!" takemichi yelled at his friend. they couldn't be late. not for that.

"how come you are slow as hell during a fight, yet you sprint your life on a sunday at 8 am?" the blond joked as he calmly walked behind takemichi with not a care in the world.

"come on! we're gonna be late!" he repeated hurriedly before stopping abruptly while looking around him.

"late to what?" chifuyu yawned, before looking at his friend, who stood there looking around, up and down as if his brain had finally snapped, "you alright?"

"alright stand here and don't move." takemichi moved the delinquent around so that he would stand in the middle of a park- an empty park.

"did you finally snapped or...?" he asked when the time traveler started to back away from him, "are you going to kill me? is this really how it's gonna end-"

"watch out!"

a voice yelled, but it was too late.

a ball directly hit his face, knocking chifuyu to the dirty ground, his eyes closing due to the shock.

it took him a couple of seconds before finally opening his eyes again, only to realize that he was in heaven. the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life held his head in her hands, her index and middle finger pressed against the front of his neck just below his jaw- making sure that his heart was still beating.

"oh- thank god! you're not dead!"

"are you an angel?" chifuyu mumbled placing his hand on top of yours- making sure you were real, "am i in heaven?"

you let a breathy chuckle at his words, "you're cute- but no you're not dead... i kicked a ball in your face- unintentionally of course!"

his eyes finally focused on you, remembering what had happened. he blinked a couple of time, his eyes scanning your face- a pretty girl's face... so close to his face with her hands on his face and his hands on her hand-

what?!

chifuyu's face became as red a tomato straitening his posture to apologize for touching you without your authorization, "i'm so sorry-"

his head came in contact with your head, making you pull back immediately from the blond. "ow! i told you i didn't do it on purpose!" you groan holding your head with your hands.

chifuyu gasped in horror at his own clumsiness as he placed a hand on the back of your head. hopping that the coldness of it would help you a little, "i'm sorry! i swear i didn't mean it! please hit me again so that we're even!"

...what? now why would he say that?

"what? what's wrong with you?! do you get turn on by getting hit or something?!"

chifuyu panically looked around to search takemichi so that he could help him. when he finally spotted him, hiding behind the swings, the time traveler was smiling proudly with his two thumbs up in the air.

his action making him recall a conversation the two of them had a couple of weeks earlier.

"so... am i married in the future?" chifuyu asked takemichi as he bit down the sandwich he made himself for lunch.

takemichi raised his brows at the question, "yeah-"

"really?!" the blond gasped, with heart in his eyes, "do i know her?! no wait- that'll ruin the surprise- is she pretty?! no wait- of course she's pretty you idiot!"

the time traveler chuckled at his friend's words, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you want me to tell you how you met?"

"no! it has to be a surprise!" chifuyu refused, "wait am i going to meet her soon? is that why you said that?! takemichi?! answer!"

"nah- like you said it has to be a surprise~"

"takemichi!"

"if it makes you feel better- you embarrassed yourself in front of her"

"how would that make me feel better?!"

that sneaky bastard.

"i'm sorry! i don't know how to talk to pretty girls..." chifuyu mumbled looking to the ground, but his face snapped back at you when he realize what he had just say, your eyes round at his words, "i- i mean not that don't know how to talk you! wait- not that you're not pretty! you are pretty- beautiful even! but that is not the point! i don't need you to hit me! just please don't think i hurt you on purpose- i don't hit pretty girls! no wait- i don't hit girls at all! but you being beautifully-pretty is just a plus you know! an-"

you smacked your hand on his mouth, stopping his rambling, the butterflies in your stomach flying way to much due to his words. "please stop-! you're too cute..."

takemichi titled his head at the scene in front of him, clearly not remembering that part of the story your older self told him in the future about how chifuyu and her had met-

but... mission failed successfully... i guess?

ⓒarmxnh

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno #takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya #manjiro x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro sano #armxnh writes ♡

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the-atlas-sister · 2 years ago

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TᕼEY ᗯᗩᒪK Iᑎ Oᑎ YOᑌ ᑕᕼᗩᑎGIᑎG/ᑎᗩKEᗪ- TOKYO ᖇEᐯ.

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢, 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘, 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚢𝚞, 𝙱𝚊𝚓𝚒, 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒, 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗, 𝙸𝚣𝚊𝚗𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊

𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒𝚛𝚘 "𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢" 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚘

"Y/N!" You let out a scream as you heard Mikey pounding on your bathroom door. You were completely naked, getting ready to hop in the shower when your oh so loving boyfriend decided to pound on the door.

"Let me in!" Mikey yelled as the pounding sound continued.

"I'm getting in the shower!" you yelled back grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your torso. The sound paused for a moment before Mikey continued, only louder. "Oh my god!" you yelped, unlocking the door and letting the boy inside.

"Woah-" Mikey said, his eyes going wide as he barged into the bathroom. He held a large bowl of ice water.

"What the hell are you doing with that?" you asked, looking down at the bowl of ice water.

"...get in the shower," he said, trying to hide the bowl behind his back.

"...why do you have the bowl Manjiro?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at the blonde haired boy. He approached you slowly, causing you to step back towards the shower. "Manjiro..."

"Hold still baby," he said, raising the water bowl high above his head.

"Manjiro!" you screeched as he poured the water over your head, drenching you in ice cold water and ice cubes on the tiles of the floor. You stared at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. "You're dead," you hissed.

𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚘

"Hey baby?" Shinichiro said, opening the door to your bedroom, not giving you much time to cover up your bare chest.

"Wait-!" You tried- but it was too late. Shinichiro looked at you with wide eyes as you covered your chest with your arms. He held a fast food menu in his hands.

"Um-" His eyes scanned your topless figure, pink dusting his cheeks. "You- damn I'll never get old of this picture...." he mumbled.

"Don't barge in like that-" you whined, throwing a nearby shirt at the taller black haired man.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before," he chuckled, flinching slightly as the shirt hit his shoulder. "Just wondering what you wanted to eat tonight?"

"Just the usual," you grumbled, going to push him out of the bedroom. "Knock next time please."

"You look beautiful baby," he chuckled, letting you push him out of the room.

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚢𝚞 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚘

Chifuyu pushed open your door, his face buried in his manga as he did. You and Chifuyu had recently moved into a shared dorm room and both of you were still getting used to the idea of living intimately with another person.

"Chifuyu!" you exclaimed, quickly covering your naked body with a nearby shirt.

"Huh? Oh- oh shit!" Chifuyu exclaimed, his face turning a deep red as he looked up at your hardly covered body. "Oh... shit." His eyes scanned your body, making the tips of your ears flush.

"Chifuyu!" you repeated, giving him a shy look.

"Right- right- sorry," he said, shaking his head and turning around to walk out of the room. You couldn't help but smile softly as you caught the wide grin on his face before he left.

𝙱𝚊𝚓𝚒 𝙺𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚎

"BABE! I- honey, stop screaming," Baji said, throwing open the shower curtain, despite you trying to cover yourself. "Just look." He showed you his phone, only to reveal a video of Chifuyu getting kicked in the balls by a kindergartener.

"Ba- wait, how did that even happen?" you asked, looking at the screen a bit closer.

"He tried to play a game with Mitsuya's little sisters," Baji chuckled, looking at the phone himself before looking at you. "Damn."

"Get out of here," you chuckled, pushing Baji away from the shower weakly.

"Nuh uh- I'm getting in there!" Baji said, giving you a cheeky grin and pulling off his clothes with an unexplainable speed.

"Baji!" you yelped with a laugh as he hopped into the shower.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒 𝙷𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚔𝚒

You watched with wide eyes as Takemichi barged into your bedroom. His eye and lip was swollen and his hair was messy. He was rambling about something from the future and a recent fight and Mikey and Draken, oblivious to your shirtless figure watching him.

"Um- Takamichi?" you said, looking at him with a raised brow.

"Huh?" the blonde boy looked over at you, his eyes sudden going wide and his whole face turning a dark red hue. "AAAAAAAAH! I'm so sorry!" he yelled, quickly turning around and placing his face against the door. "I-I just have so much I want to tell you. Oh my god I'm so sorry. Let me know when you're finished."

You never even got the chance to say anything as he shuffled out the door.

𝙺𝚎𝚗 "𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗" 𝚁𝚢𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚓𝚒

"Hey beautiful," Ken said as he walked into your shared bedroom.

"Hey handsome," you responded, looking at your half naked figure in the mirror. "Do I look like I'm gaining some weight?"

"Not particularly," he shrugged, creeping up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Look as beautiful as ever baby." He leaned down and placed a few kisses along the skin of your neck.

𝙸𝚣𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝙺𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊

You and your boyfriend had recently moved into an apartment together. You had to start getting used to living together with someone, them seeing you naked, smelling your morning breath, seeing you after a night out.

Some took more adjusting than others.

"I could get used to this," Izana's voice chuckled from the doorway. You whipped around to see Izana staring at your topless figure with a loving smile.

"You can't just walk in on me like that," you scoffed, blushing slightly and going to grab a shirt.

"Why not? It's my room too," he chuckled, going to grab the shirt from your hands. "And I'm loving the view, pretty." He cupped your cheek and kissed you softly.

You froze in place as his lips touched yours. You allowed yourself to fall into it, your hand going to grab his arm as your eyes fluttered closed.

"I'll let you get dressed," Izana mumbled, pulling away from your lips.

"I can wait," you said, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer to you.

𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊

Takashi smiled softly as he wandered into your room. He watched with a shy blush as you danced to whatever was playing in your headphones, dressed in only a bra and sweatpants. He leaned on the door for a second longer, counting his blessings for being the one to capture the heart of such a beautiful person such as yourself. After a few seconds longer he left the room and you were none the wiser to his presence.

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/the-atlas-sister/735496078254850048/t%E1%95%BCey-%E1%97%AF%E1%97%A9%E1%92%AAk-i%E1%91%8E-o%E1%91%8E-yo%E1%91%8C-%E1%91%95%E1%95%BC%E1%97%A9%E1%91%8Egi%E1%91%8Eg%E1%91%8E%E1%97%A9ke%E1%97%AA-tokyo-%E1%96%87e%E1%90%AF

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dragonsoulage · 2 months ago

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When you want to do their hair…

feat. Manjiro Sano, Ken Ryuguji, Takashi Mitsuya, Baji Keisuke, Wakasa Imaushi, Hanma Shuji, Rindou Haitani

Hello friendos ✨ I simply decided to make a new kind of smau with the Tokyo Revengers chars. Since I do like too many men of them I think I will take different ones each smau. So even when now not a Chifuyu is there or another character you love it still could be pop up in other Smaus 🤌🏻🤌🏻 I just can’t decide so I switch it up every smau who do I think fits the smaus theme close 🤣🤣🤌🏻 I hope you have fun 💖💖 I actually think it’s cute doing your man’s hair when he let you ✨ oh and I changed the app for my smaus 💀🤣

Warnings: Fluff

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itoshiierae · 22 days ago

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picnic dates with the toman boys ⋆.ೃ࿔

ᡣ𐭩 ft: manjiro sano, ken ryuguji, kazutora hanemiya, mitsuya takashi, baji keisuke, chifuyu matsuno, takemichi hanagaki

ᡣ𐭩 notes: this is what happens when you let the toman boys plan a picnic. mikey brought snacks for himself, draken pulled the “you look better in my jacket” card, kazutora is a poetic menace, mitsuya deserves a michelin star, baji shows up late, chifuyu tried making cat-shaped onigiris, and takemichi??? well baby tried his best… and we love him for it 😭

MANJIRO SANO ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ brings exactly one item: a pack of dorayaki… but for himself. he might’ve also ‘gently threatened’ the other Toman boys to prep everything else for your picnic ahead of time, and sure enough by the time you and him arrived — everything was already laid out perfectly at the spot.

⟢ ends up lying on your lap the entire time, head resting against your thigh like it’s the only place he ever wants to be. not because he’s tired (though he always is) but because your presence calms something in him.

⟢ doesn’t even eat the other food that much — just picks at it and feeds you in between, holding up a piece with a lazy, “open… now.” he’s infamous for never sharing his dorayaki with anyone… but when it comes to you??? he offers you the last bite without blinking.

⟢ steals your sunglasses, puts them on upside down, and looks at you with a straight face: “… do i look cute or do i look cute??”

⟢ at one point, he stares at the sky for a long, quiet moment. then, so softly it almost gets carried away by the wind: “we should do this again when we’re old...” and he doesn’t even laugh after. instead, he just stares at you & it’s his own way of telling you that he’s already imagining growing old next to you.

KEN RYUGUJI ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ brought a giant thermal bag even though it’s got full-on bentos inside. he tried to make at least some of it himself (he needed some of the women in the establishment to help him out), and he proudly says, “don’t ask me which part i made… just eat and tell me if it’s at least decent.”

⟢ caught you staring at him mid-laugh and said, “if you keep lookin’ at me like that, i might propose right here.” then he pauses — smirk lingering, but his eyes??? they’re dead serious. “… no ring yet, but i mean it.”

⟢ leans back with one hand behind his head, watching you eat more than eating himself. you catch him staring and he just shrugs, “what??? you look cute when you’re chewing.”

⟢ offers you his jacket halfway through even though it’s not cold. he doesn’t say why — just instantly covers your shoulders with it and then says, “wear it. you look better in my clothes anyway.”

⟢ made a playlist the night before just for the picnic. it’s mostly old school r&b, a couple of songs he thinks ‘you might like’ and one weird edm track that snuck in. “… don’t judge, spotify was bein’ weird.”

KAZUTORA HANEMIYA ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ shows up with a picnic basket that looks like it came straight off pinterest — woven handle, red checkered cloth, tied with twine. it honestly looked super aesthetic… until you opened it and found slightly burnt sandwiches inside. “i made them myself,” he shrugs proudly.

⟢ hands you a tiny bunch of wild daisies he picked on the way over. “they looked pretty… just like you,” he says simply.

⟢ fiddles with your fingers the whole time you’re lying on the blanket. doesn’t say much while he does it — he just intertwines them with his own, gently pressing your knuckles like he wants to remember this moment forever.

⟢ randomly turns philosophical out of nowhere. “…do you think souls recognize each other before people do??” he doesn’t expect an answer. he just looks at you like maybe, just maybe — his soul knew yours all along.

⟢ puts on music from a tiny speaker he pulled from his bag. and before you know it, the two of you are slow dancing under a sky painted in watercolour hues and clouds that looked like they were dreaming too. when the song ends, he tucks your hair behind your ear and says: “if we were animals, you’d be one of those tiny forest animals that just… sit there & look pretty. and i’d be the feral one protecting you from a distance.”

MITSUYA TAKASHI ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ of course he brought everything. we’re talking cutlery wrapped in linen, folded cloth napkins, homemade bento boxes and a berry tart he baked himself at 2am because he wanted to surprise you. “it’s not much,” he says it casually, like the meal doesn’t look like it came from a café in Paris.

⟢ casually gifts you a matching handkerchief with your initials embroidered into the corner — in your favourite color, of course. “thought it might come in handy,” he says, handing it to you like it’s not the most thoughtful thing ever.

⟢ snaps a few photos of you when you’re not looking — when you’re laughing, or when the wind catches your hair justtt right. those go straight into a locked photo album on his phone titled: my love ♡

⟢ he gently brushes crumbs off your face, as his thumb lingers at your cheek before he leans in and kisses it. not once, but twice; softly, repeatedly — like he’s making sure you know you’re adored.

⟢ at one point, he leans back on his elbows, sunglasses slipping slightly down his nose, humming a soft tune under his breath before murmuring, “you always look your prettiest in sunlight, y’know that? you’re such a natural beauty… and i’m so lucky.”

BAJI KEISUKE ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ shows up 30 minutes late, hair windswept and a scratch on his cheek. “yo. i’m late, i know. but to be fair… i had to break up a cat fight.” you squint at him. “like actual cats or—” he shrugs. “not sure, one of them hissed — the other threw a punch.”

⟢ brings convenience store food like it’s a full-course feast. “what?? i got variety,” he says, completely unbothered, as if he’s just pulled off the ultimate romantic gesture. you glance down and blink — it’s four onigiris (all different flavours, as if that makes it fancy), two instant yakisoba bowls, and a mystery bento that’s somehow still warm even though he showed up nearly half an hour late.

⟢ pulls out three canned drinks from his bag and goes, “i didn’t know what you liked, so i got three different ones. you can have mine too.” then? he casually cracks open the one you were eyeing and drinks it without hesitation. “what?” he shrugs, lips twitching. “we’re sharing, aren’t we?”

⟢ you tease him about actually enjoying peaceful stuff like this, and he immediately gets defensive. “oi, don’t start thinking i’m going soft or anything,” he grumbles, flicking your forehead. “i just like you, not the picnic crap...”

⟢ outside your house after the picnic, he ruffles your hair roughly and mutters, “next time, i’ll cook. swear on it.” he says it with that usual bite in his tone, but there’s something soft tucked underneath.

CHIFUYU MATSUNO ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ he spent the entire night before trying to recreate a recipe he found online — cute little rice cats with sausage ears, seaweed eyes, and tiny whiskers. but somewhere between shaping the rice and cutting the nori, things went downhill fast. they were supposed to look adorable… instead, they came out looking slightly cursed. “they looked better in the tutorial, okay?” he mutters, trying not to pout as you stifle a laugh.

⟢ he also brought your favorite drink and backup snacks just in case you didn’t like the cat-shaped onigiris (you did but he still made you eat the strawberry pocky too)

⟢ borrowed the mat from baji, who may or may not have threatened him with a slipper to the head if it came back dirty. “this mat’s limited edition, fuyu… if there’s even one grass stain— i’m skinning you.”

⟢ if you lay your head on his shoulder, he’s literally done for. you won. game over. he’s mentally fast-forwarding to a future where you both have matching toothbrushes and a fat orange cat. he swears his heart skipped a beat. twice

⟢ randomly blurts, “i hope we do this again. like, a lot…” — and the second the words leave his mouth, he freezes. his ears go pink first. then his cheeks. then the tip of his nose. he fumbles to grab his drink like it’s some kind of emotional shield, holding it up to his mouth as if it’ll hide how red he’s getting.

TAKEMICHI HANAGAKI ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ tries to plan the entire picnic by himself… emphasis on tries. he forgets the blanket, napkins, and even the deck of card games he swore would be “fun for us.” mid-date? he’s sheepishly calling friends to bring over the missing items. “i’m so sorry…. just gimme ten minutes, i swear i had a checklist—” but honestly??? it’s kind of cute seeing how hard he tried.

⟢ “i was gonna cook… but the stove kinda almost exploded and i— yeah, i gave up...” so he ordered food instead, complete with utensils and drinks, just to make sure the both of you had something to eat.

⟢ he laughs it off even with the little mishaps and you find yourself smiling more because of it. when you said, “i really appreciate how much you tried today,” his cheeks flushed instantly, and he looked away like he didn’t know what to do with your sincerity.

⟢ he’s seated across from you, cross-legged, nodding along as you speak. and when you get emotional even just a little??? he offers a small, reassuring smile and says, “you don’t have to hold it in… your feelings matter too.”

⟢ he shares the most ridiculous stories — falling off bikes, getting into fights with other gangs, dyeing his hair on a dare. when you laugh and say how chaotic the day’s been, he just smiles and goes, “i don’t need everything to be perfect… i just need it to be you.”

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ceristelle · 4 days ago

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✧ IF ONLY YOU KNEW... ⇢ tokyo revengers

if only you knew all the ways he says he loves you without saying it. ft. manjiro “mikey” sano, ken “draken” ryuguji, keisuke baji, chifuyu matsuno, takashi mitsuya & kazutora hanemiya

warnings: none

mikey doesn’t say much, but his silence has shape when it comes to you. like how he always texts to make sure you got home safely, even if he doesn’t ask how your day was. or how he’s saved the last bit of taiyaki for you more than once, which is surprising when you consider the fact he isn’t exactly the type to share his food. he backs it up by claiming he’s “sick of sweet stuff” even though you’ve seen him finish five in one sitting. mikey won’t say he’s worried, won’t say he misses you (yet)—but he’ll show up, helmet in hand, offering to take you wherever you want like he never left. if only you knew how often his quiet meant “i love you.”

draken is also another guy who won’t outright say he’s worried, but you can always tell when he is (he isn’t subtle). it’s in the way he lingers after you say you’re fine, eyes narrowing just a bit like he’s trying to figure out what you aren’t telling him. he always walks you home, even when you live in opposite directions. you can protest all you want, but you should know he won’t listen and before you know it, he’ll be standing behind you after classes, hand held out for you to give your bag to him. if you’re out late, he’ll find some excuse to “be in the same area”, too. draken won’t say much, just nudges your shoulder and grunt about how you should’ve called. anything could happen! he simply wants you to be safe. he pats your head gently before leaving each time, and only does after he sees you go inside your house and sent a text to reassure him that everything’s okay. if only you knew how much that meant coming from someone who protects everyone but lets himself be soft for you.

he acts like he doesn’t care, but we all know baji does. he complains when you mess with his hair (which, in your defense, was making it look better), but never pulls away. he grumbles when you steal food off his plate but always gives you the last bite. you’ve seen how reckless he is with himself and rough plays with others, but never with you. you’re the one thing he’s careful with. or at least, tries his best to. there will be times where he’ll accidentally clap your back a little too hard or grip your shoulder tight. in his mind he’s being gentle, even if it doesn’t feel like it. just explain to him and baji will listen with an undeniable pink hue decorated on his cheeks, mumbling but nodding along. he doesn’t call it love, he calls it “shut up and eat before it gets cold” or “text me when you’re home or i’m breaking your door down.” if only you knew how many times he’s rewritten an “i love you” into something less obvious, but just as true.

chifuyu doesn’t know how to hold back when it comes to you. he listens to every word like you’re giving some prophecy and he’s trying to figure out whatever deep meanings it holds, and remembers little things you didn’t think were important. he’ll walk across the city just to bring you a book you mentioned once or a snack you looked at for two seconds. he gets nervous sometimes, talks too much, tries too hard, but it’s only because he cares more than he knows how to handle. it’s endearing though. if you only noticed his hair combed perfectly and styled a bit different sometimes (to which he spent hours on and got help from baji), how, in a room, he gets lost by looking at you so much that only until someone yells in his ear he will snap out of it. when you’re quiet, he notices. when you smile, he beams and it’s so obvious that his friends tease him for being such a simp. if only you knew how often he falls in love with you in the middle of the most ordinary moments.

ever the observant type, mitsuya notices things about you without even trying. like when your shoulders tense, or when your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. he won’t ask right away, simply wait until it’s just the two of you and the moment feels right. he’ll offer you a cup of tea or ask if you’d like to see what he’s working on so far. his touch is featherlight as he gently guides your hands to feel where the fabric is felt the most, and would feel pleased if you ever ask him to teach you. he sews comfort into everything he gives, down to the little things he makes by hand just for you. mitsuya doesn’t say he’s proud of you often, but when he does, it’s always when you need it most. if only you knew how deeply he treasures you, and how effortlessly you became his safe place, too.

he doesn’t always get it right. sometimes kazutora says the wrong thing, sometimes the bells of his past ring too loud, but his heart is never unsure when it comes to you. he remembers your favorites, your habits, your fears. he touches things gently when you’re around, like he’s afraid of breaking anything you love. he genuinely wants to be the best version of himself when you’re near so you never think bad about him. and when he smiles at you, it’s different. softer and light, like puffy clouds. to him, you make the world feel a little less heavy. though he won’t always know how to say it, when he holds your hand like it keeps him tethered to reality, or looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him afloat—if only you knew how much of his heart already belongs to you without you realizing.

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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 2 months ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MITSUYA! Our favourite lavender haired fashion designer!

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #mitsuya takashi #takashi mitsuya #tokyo revengers spoilers

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inseobts · 24 days ago

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Stubborn Hearts

takashi mitsuya x fem!reader

all you do is bickering, so everyone forces you to confess to each other.

a/n: aaaaaah hope this isn't cringe T.T

words count: 5.7k

tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst to fluff, teasing, bickering

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You have exactly three problems in life:

1. Your friends are idiots.

2. Toman is full of gossiping middle schoolers disguised as delinquents.

3. Mitsuya Takashi exists.

The third one is the biggest problem.

Because, somehow, everyone in Toman has decided that you and Mitsuya are destined soulmates. Which is insane because he clearly hates you. He always sighs when you walk into the room, never laughs at your jokes, and acts like everything you do is some massive inconvenience.

So, naturally, you’ve made it your life’s mission to annoy the hell out of him.

And today? Today is no different.

The Toman hideout is as loud and chaotic as ever. You’re sitting on the couch with Emma and Hina, watching as Mitsuya helps Hakkai wrap a bandage around his arm. He’s focused, carefully tying the gauze, completely unbothered by the noise around him.

Which is unacceptable.

“Ugh.” You groan dramatically, slumping against Emma “Why is he always here?”

Hina snorts “Because he’s literally a vice-captain?”

“A vice-captain with an attitude problem.” You glance at Mitsuya, narrowing your eyes “I bet if he smiled too hard, his face would crack.”

Emma hums “Or maybe he doesn’t smile because someone keeps throwing french fries at his head.”

“That happened one time.”

“It happened yesterday.”

“Still a one time thing”

From across the room, Mitsuya sighs.

You whip around immediately “SEE?! He does it every time I talk!”

Pah chokes on his drink “This is painful to watch.”

“Yeah, this is getting ridiculous.” Smiley says, grinning “I mean, how long are they gonna keep this up?”

You frown “Keep what up?”

Before anyone can answer, Chifuyu suddenly drops onto the couch beside you, looking suspiciously smug “Hey, Y/N, quick question.”

You squint “What?”

“If you had to be stranded on a deserted island with one person, would you pick Mitsuya?”

“I’d rather drink seawater.”

“I’d rather swim into a shark’s mouth.” Mitsuya deadpans from across the room.

Baji nearly dies laughing “YEAH, SURE, OKAY.”

“See?!” You spin toward Emma and Hina, motioning wildly at Mitsuya “He hates me!”

They exchange a look. The same one they’ve been giving you for months. The one that makes you feel like you’re missing a really obvious joke.

“Right.” Hina says.

“Absolutely.” Emma agrees.

You narrow your eyes “…Why do I feel like you guys know something I don’t?”

Before either of them can respond, Draken suddenly clears his throat “Alright, enough. I can’t watch this disaster any longer.”

Mikey, who had been quietly eating dorayaki, finally speaks up “I say we lock them in a room.”

You freeze “Wait, what?”

Mitsuya’s head snaps up “Excuse me?”

Mikey shrugs, unbothered “Just until they confess.”

The room erupts.

“I love that idea.” Smiley howls.

“Let’s do it.” Baji grins.

Even Hakkai, the nice one, nods “It’d save us a lot of time.”

You shoot up from your seat “Confess what??”

Mitsuya groans, rubbing his temples “You guys are actual morons.”

“No, you two are morons,” Chifuyu corrects “We are just fixing it.”

You’re about to argue when Emma grabs your arm.

Hina grabs your other arm.

“WAIT—”

Before you can fight back, they drag you toward the nearest empty room.

You hear a loud thud as Mitsuya gets shoved inside with you, his voice sharp with irritation “Are you serious right now?”

The door slams shut.

Then they locked it.

“I’m going to murder them...” Mitsuya mutters.

You press your forehead against the door, horror settling in “Not if I do it first.”

The room is dead silent.

You and Mitsuya stand on opposite sides, both facing the door, both processing the absolute betrayal that just happened.

Your friends... your traitorous, nosy friends... have actually locked you inside a tiny room with Mitsuya.

And they’re not letting you out until one of you confesses.

Which is never happening since Mitsuya hates you.

After what feels like a full minute, you finally turn to him “…This is your fault.”

Mitsuya scoffs “My fault? You’re the one who keeps picking fights with me.”

“Because you hate me!”

He groans, rubbing his temples like you’re giving him a migraine “I don’t hate you.”

“You literally just said you’d rather get eaten by a shark than be stuck on an island with me.”

“Because you said you’d rather die first!”

You squint at him “So what? You just had to one-up me?”

“You started it!”

Before you can throw something at his stupidly calm face, you hear muffled voices outside the door.

“They’re fighting already.” Chifuyu says, laughing.

“Give it ten minutes,” Baji snickers “One of them’s gonna snap.”

You whip around and bang on the door “LET ME OUT, YOU BASTARDS.”

“Nope!” Emma’s voice is way too cheerful “Not until you confess~”

You can practically hear Hina smirking “Take your time, though. We’ve got all night.”

Oh, they are so dead.

You turn back to Mitsuya, eyes burning with pure rage “Okay. We need a plan.”

He raises an eyebrow “A plan?”

“Yes.” You cross your arms and whisper “We pretend to confess so they let us out.”

Mitsuya gives you a flat look “You want to fake confess?”

“Unless you have a better idea?”

He sighs, shaking his head “Fine. But they’re not gonna believe it if it sounds fake.”

You frown “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can’t just say, ‘Oh wow, I actually love you so much, let me out now’” he deadpans “They’re expecting that.”

You blink “…Okay, that was actually a really good impression of me.”

“Yeah, because all you do is yell.”

“See?! You do hate me!”

Mitsuya groans “Oh my god.”

Outside, the entire Toman gang is eavesdropping, fully entertained.

“They’re hopeless.” Smiley laughs.

“We might be here for a whole while.” Hakkai mutters.

Mikey hums, finishing off his dorayaki “Nah. They’ll break soon.”

Baji grins “Wanna bet?”

Back inside, you take a deep breath “Okay, fine. If we have to make it believable, let’s just, ugh... compliment each other.”

Mitsuya leans against the wall, arms crossed “Alright. You go first.”

You narrow your eyes “…Why do I have to go first?”

“Because this was your dumb plan.”

“Fine.” You huff, crossing your arms “Ugh. I guess… you’re good at sewing or whatever.”

Mitsuya blinks “That’s it?”

“What, do you want me to write you a poem?”

He sighs dramatically “Okay, my turn. You’re… not completely unbearable.”

You glare “Wow. Romantic.”

“We’re fake confessing, not getting engaged.”

“Whatever. Now let’s just—”

Suddenly, you hear whispers outside.

“They’re faking it.” Hina says.

“Obviously.” Draken mutters.

Mikey sighs “Alright. Plan B.”

Before you can even ask what Plan B is, a vent above you suddenly opens...

AND A WATER BOTTLE COMES FLYING THROUGH.

Right into Mitsuya’s head.

The silence is deafening.

Then Baji starts screaming with laughter.

Mitsuya just closes his eyes, inhales slowly, and mutters, “I hate all of you.”

You’re wheezing on the floor.

Mitsuya stands perfectly still, eyes closed, jaw clenched. The water bottle that smacked him in the head rolls across the floor.

You, meanwhile, are dying.

Clutching your stomach, you collapse against the wall, gasping between wheezes “I—I can’t—They sniped you!”

From outside the door, Baji is howling with laughter.

“Did you see that shot?” Smiley cackles “Perfect headshot!”

“Who even threw that?!” Hakkai asks, struggling to breathe.

“…Me.” Mikey answers, sounding vaguely proud.

Mitsuya exhales slowly, rubbing his temples “I swear to god.”

You wipe tears from your eyes, still grinning “Hey, at least you’re hydrated.”

He shoots you a deadpan stare “Do you want to die?”

Before you can answer, Emma’s voice rings from outside “Alright, new plan! If you two don’t confess in the next five minutes, we’re dropping more stuff through the vent.”

Hina hums “What’s next? A shoe?”

“A chair?” Chifuyu suggests.

Baji snickers “I say we drop Takemichi.”

“WHAT?!” Takemichi’s panicked voice echoes from somewhere in the back.

Mitsuya pinches the bridge of his nose “I hate every single person outside this door.”

You sigh dramatically “Welcome to my world.”

He glances at you “You are part of the problem.”

You put a hand over your heart “Wow. Just say you hate me and go.”

“I said I don’t hate you.” he groans.

“Oh? Then why do you always sigh when I talk?”

“Because you never shut up.”

You gasp, utterly offended “Wow. I’m actually hurt. Crushed. I might cry.”

“Good.”

You glare “You know what? Maybe I will fake confess just to get out of here.”

Mitsuya shrugs “Be my guest.”

You pause. Then, smirking, you turn toward the door.

“OH MITSUYA,” you call dramatically “I HAVE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU FOR YEARS. YOUR SILVER HAIR SHINES LIKE THE MOON, YOUR SEWING SKILLS BRING TEARS TO MY EYES, AND EVERY TIME YOU IGNORE ME, IT MAKES ME FALL HARDER. PLEASE, TAKE ME NOW.”

The silence outside is deafening.

Then... Everyone BURSTS OUT LAUGHING.

Baji is SCREAMING. Smiley sounds like he’s choking. Chifuyu is wheezing.

Mikey hums “Sounds fake.”

Draken snorts “Zero emotion.”

Emma sighs “Yeah, that was a terrible confession.”

You scowl “Okay, rude.”

Mitsuya shakes his head “Told you they wouldn’t buy it.”

You cross your arms “Fine. You confess, then.”

He scoffs “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you got us into this mess!”

Mitsuya stares at you, incredulous “HOW is this my fault?!”

“You exist!”

“You threw a french fry at my head yesterday!”

You wave him off “That’s unrelated.”

Mitsuya groans, dragging a hand down his face “We are never getting out of here.”

Outside, the group listens with growing frustration.

“They’re actually so dumb.” Hina mutters.

Emma sighs “Alright, time for drastic measures.”

Chifuyu grins “Are we pulling the ‘fake love rival’ card?”

Pah nods “Yup.”

Baji smirks “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Back inside, you’re still bickering when suddenly...

“HEY, Y/N!”

It’s Chifuyu.

You blink “Uh… what?”

“I just wanna say,” Chifuyu continues loudly, “if Mitsuya doesn’t like you, you could always date me instead.”

You freeze.

Mitsuya’s expression goes blank.

The room is dead silent.

Then...

“…Excuse me?” Mitsuya says flatly.

Baji immediately jumps in “Yeah! Y’know what? I’ve always thought Y/N was cute.”

“Same.” Smiley adds, way too enthusiastically.

Even Hakkai joins in “Y-Yeah! A-amazing!”

You blink rapidly “H-Hold on! Fake or not, this is embarassing!”

Mitsuya’s entire aura shifts.

His jaw tightens. His usual calm expression darkens. And when he speaks his voice is low.

“Not. Funny.”

The noise outside dies instantly.

You swallow. Mitsuya isn’t smiling anymore.

“…Mitsuya?” you say cautiously.

He turns toward you. And for the first time, he looks genuinely, actually pissed.

Then he takes a step closer.

You instinctively step back “H-Hey, let’s not murder anyone… I didn’t even say anything!”

But he just keeps walking.

And suddenly, you’re backed against the wall.

Trapped.

Mitsuya places a hand on the wall next to your head, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. His violet eyes lock onto yours, unreadable.

“…You really think I hate you?” he murmurs.

Your stomach flips.

“I—I mean, yeah?” you stammer “You never laugh at my jokes, you’re always sighing at me, and you just look like you hate me—”

Mitsuya exhales sharply, tilting his head “You’re actually so dumb.”

Your brain short-circuits “EXCUSE ME—”

Then before you can react he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

Your entire soul leaves your body.

He just—MITSUYA TAKASHI JUST...........

Outside, you hear someone drop something.

“…WHAT?!” Baji’s scream shakes the walls.

“NO FREAKING WAY!” Chifuyu shouts.

Draken whistles “Well, damn.”

You, meanwhile, are still frozen.

Mitsuya pulls back, watching you carefully “…Still think I hate you?”

You stare at him, completely stunned. Your brain isn’t functioning. Your words aren’t working. Your body refuses to move.

You’re still processing the fact that Mitsuya just kissed you.

Mitsuya smirks, patting your head “Thought so.”

Then he turns toward the door.

“We’re done here,” he calls out “Let us out.”

Still in shock, you hear the click of the door unlocking.

Mitsuya steps out first, walking past a completely stunned Toman gang.

Baji looks betrayed. Emma and Hina are grinning like maniacs. Chifuyu has tears in his eyes.

You, meanwhile, are still standing in the room.

Mikey leans in “Hey, Y/N?”

You blink.

“…You good?”

Your mouth opens. Then closes.

Then you promptly drop to the floor.

Mitsuya’s stupid smirk is the last thing you see before you die inside.

And now you are malfunctioning.

You’re still sitting on the floor of the tiny room, staring at absolutely nothing while the entire Toman gang loses their minds.

Baji looks like someone personally betrayed him “ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!”

Chifuyu clutches his chest, tears in his eyes “That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”

Draken just nods “Yeah. That was smooth.”

Mikey hums “Mm. Approved.”

Emma and Hina? Squealing.

Meanwhile, Mitsuya is just standing there like he didn’t just destroy your entire existence.

And you’re still not breathing.

Mikey waves a hand in front of your face “Oi, Y/N. Earth to Y/N.”

No response.

Smiley snickers “She’s broken.”

Mitsuya sighs, crossing his arms “Oh, come on.” He looks down at you, unimpressed “It was just a forehead kiss.”

You snap back to life.

“JUST a forehead kiss?!” You shoot up from the floor, absolutely unhinged “DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID?!”

He shrugs “I got us out, didn’t I?”

“BY SHORT-CIRCUITING MY BRAIN?!”

Mitsuya smirks “Worked, didn’t it?”

You let out an ungodly noise, somewhere between a scream and a strangled sob.

Baji grabs you by the shoulders, looking deeply into your eyes “You cannot let this stand.”

You grip his arms “What do I do?”

Baji’s eyes darken “You fight.”

Chifuyu gasps “You flirt back.”

The entire gang nods, suddenly forming a revenge plan.

Mitsuya still completely calm “You guys are all idiots.”

You whip around dramatically “Fine. If this is war, then so be it.” You point at Mitsuya “From this moment forward, I will make you suffer.”

Mitsuya actually laughs at that “Good luck with that.”

You narrow your eyes “Oh, it’s on.”

The entire gang watches in pure excitement.

Baji claps you on the back “I believe in you.”

Hina grins “We will support this battle.”

Emma nods seriously “For justice.”

Mikey hums “This is gonna be fun.”

And Mitsuya just smirks.

“Go ahead,” he says smoothly “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Oh, he thinks he’s untouchable.

You crack your knuckles.

The war has begun.

The next day, Mitsuya strolls into the Toman hangout like nothing happened, all cool and collected, like he didn’t just completely wreck your brain with a forehead kiss.

“Morning.” he greets casually, looking around at the gang.

You smile sweetly, practically gloating as you walk up to him “Mitsuya, hey.”

He blinks at you, raising an eyebrow “What?”

You lean in, just close enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath on his cheek “You look good today.” you say smoothly, with a mischievous glint in your eye.

The entire room goes quiet. Even the usually chill Draken looks up, clearly interested in what’s going on.

Mitsuya freezes for a split second, before narrowing his eyes “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” you reply innocently, flipping your hair and walking past him with a sassy sway in your step.

You can feel his eyes on your back, and when you glance over your shoulder, you catch him blinking rapidly. Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

The gang is watching this entire exchange like it’s some kind of highly entertaining drama.

Chifuyu leans over to Baji, whispering loudly, “She’s really doing it. She’s flirting with him.”

Baji grins “Oh yeah, she is. This is going to be amazing.”

Mikey grins too “She’s not backing down. Mitsuya doesn’t even know how to respond.”

“Good. I’ve been waiting for this.” Draken mutters, a grin tugging at his lips.

The war is on.

Mitsuya, ever the cool guy, tries to act like he’s unbothered by your sudden flirty energy, but he’s not as cool as he thinks.

You notice his hand twitching every time you walk by him now. And when you catch him looking at you? He quickly looks away.

Perfect.

Later that day, you find yourself sitting on the couch, lazily flipping through the pages of a manga, when Mitsuya walks in, his usual calm demeanor slightly… off. His eyes flicker to you and then away, but he can’t seem to make up his mind.

You look up at him slowly, a coy smile on your lips “You know, Mitsuya…” You drag out his name, and you swear you see his eyes widen just a fraction “I was thinking… I could totally use someone like you in my life. You’re pretty handy with those sewing skills you have.”

Mitsuya tilts his head, trying to keep his cool “I’ve been sewing for years, Y/N.”

“I know,” you reply, leaning in a little, “and I’m sure I could come up with so many… ways to make use of you.” You say it so sweetly, almost like you’re not even trying “You could sew for me anytime.”

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Mitsuya doesn’t even flinch “You’re really playing this game, huh?”

You tilt your head, almost innocently as you look at him “You started it, didn’t you?”

By the next day, you’ve got the whole Toman gang in on the act. You’re working overtime to make Mitsuya squirm, and it’s working.

“Mitsuya,” you call sweetly as he walks by “Your jacket looks really nice today. I think I’m starting to have a thing for you in leather.”

He freezes mid-step. His face flushes just the tiniest bit, and it only makes you grin wider.

He looks back at you, eyes narrowed “You’re not serious.”

You smile even more “Maybe I am,” you reply with a wink “What if I told you I could get very serious? About you?”

The entire gang is watching again. They’re all dying from the tension.

Mitsuya stands still, visibly flustered, and you can almost see him thinking. He’s trying to stay calm, but you know it’s killing him on the inside.

“…Stop messing around, Y/N.” he mutters, his voice a little rougher than usual.

“Oh, I’m not messing around,” you reply smoothly “You want me to stop, but you don’t really want me to. You just like making me work for it.”

You pause “But I don’t mind. I’m patient. I can wait. I’m worth it.”

There’s a long pause. Mitsuya looks like he’s about to combust “You’re impossible.”

“I’m not impossible,” you say sweetly “I’m just… irresistible.”

That evening, the gang is once again hanging out in the main area of Toman’s HQ. You’re sitting on the couch next to Mitsuya, your legs casually brushing against his, and you’re making absolutely no attempt to move away. He’s clearly trying his hardest not to react, but you can feel the tension crackling between you two.

Finally, he speaks, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together “Y/N, you’re—you’re really pushing it, you know that?”

You turn to him, locking eyes, and then smile so sweetly it might as well be a challenge “Am I? I think I’m just giving you what you’ve wanted this whole time.”

For a moment, Mitsuya doesn’t say anything. He looks like he’s about to explode, and you’re getting a strange thrill out of it.

The entire gang is watching, and you can hear Baji mutter under his breath, “I don’t know how she does it…”

But Mitsuya looks like he’s finally had enough.

“Okay, fine,” he says, his voice much quieter than before “You want me to say it?”

You look at him, completely unbothered, but on the inside your heart is racing.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck “Fine. I like you, okay? I don’t know how to handle it, but I do. Happy now?”

For a second, you freeze.

Did he just...?

But before you can react, Mitsuya looks at you with a half-smile “So, are you gonna stop flirting with me, or is this part of your strategy?”

The air is thick with tension, but now you’re the one left speechless.

You were so sure you had the upper hand in this war.

You were winning. Mitsuya was flustered, avoiding your gaze, tripping over his words. Everything was going perfectly.

And then, in a cruel twist of fate he confessed first.

You didn’t even get to enjoy your victory because now you’re the one malfunctioning.

Your brain is short-circuiting. Your heart is staging a full-on rebellion.

Mitsuya likes you. He likes you.

And he said it so casually, like it wasn’t the thing you’ve been avoiding this whole time.

Now, as you sit next to him, his words still hanging in the air, you realize something absolutely horrifying:

You have no idea how to respond.

The gang is dead silent.

Baji’s jaw is practically on the floor.

Chifuyu’s eyes are wide with pure betrayal.

Mikey is still munching on his snack, but even he looks impressed.

Emma and Hina are squeezing each other’s arms like they just witnessed the season finale of the best drama ever.

And Mitsuya is just watching you with a smug look, arms crossed, so much more confident now that the tables have turned.

“…Well?” he asks, tilting his head “Nothing to say?”

You narrow your eyes at him, even though your heart is currently going through every stage of grief.

Oh, he thinks he’s won.

Well, joke’s on him. You’re not going down that easily.

So, with every ounce of fake confidence you have left, you clear your throat and smirk “Huh. That’s cute. You like me? Should I be flattered?”

Mitsuya raises an eyebrow “You’re the one who’s been flirting with me for days.”

You wave a hand dismissively “Oh, Mitsuya, sweetie, I flirt with everyone.”

The room erupts.

Chifuyu gasps “Did she—did she just friendzone him?!”

Draken bursts out laughing.

Emma screams into her hands.

Meanwhile, Mitsuya is still watching you, his expression unreadable “Oh, really?”

“Really,” you say with a playful smirk “I mean, you’re cute and all, but you’re taking this way too seriously.”

There. That should put you back in control.

You expect Mitsuya to roll his eyes. To get flustered again. To suffer.

But instead, he leans in.

Closer.

Too close.

Dangerously close.

And suddenly, you are no longer in control.

You freeze.

The room goes silent again.

Mitsuya’s voice is low, his lips barely an inch away from yours “If I took it seriously…” His eyes are locked onto yours, amusement flickering in them “Would that be a problem for you?”

You cannot breathe.

Your entire soul leaves your body.

Hina is holding onto Emma like they’re watching a horror movie now.

Draken actually whistles.

Mikey grins.

“Ohhhh,” he hums “She’s losing.”

And you are.

Because your brain has completely shut down.

Mitsuya is still watching you, waiting for your next move, waiting to see if you’ll break first.

And the worst part is that you are.

Your face is burning. Your heart is racing.

You can’t even come up with a comeback, and that is the biggest loss of all.

You’ve played yourself.

And Mitsuya knows it.

Slowly, finally, he pulls back, looking so satisfied with himself “That’s what I thought.”

Then, like he didn’t just ruin your entire existence, he stands up and stretches “Alright, I’m heading home.”

And with that he leaves.

The door shuts behind him.

The silence is deafening.

And then the gang loses their minds.

“YOU LOST.” Baji howls, pointing at you like he just witnessed history.

“She broke first!” Chifuyu shrieks.

Mikey leans back with a smug look “Mitsuya just won this whole thing.”

Hina and Emma are literally shaking you.

Draken chuckles “Damn. That was smooth.”

And you just sit there, completely frozen, hands gripping your knees, re-evaluating your entire life.

Because for the first time ever…

You have absolutely no idea what to do next.

You sit there, frozen, while the rest of the gang absolutely loses their minds around you.

Baji is cackling like he’s just won the lottery. Chifuyu keeps repeating, “She lost! She lost!” like a damn sports commentator. Hina and Emma are shaking you like they’re trying to exorcise the embarrassment out of your soul.

And Mikey is just sitting there, smug as hell, casually sipping on his juice box like he knew this was going to happen the entire time.

Meanwhile, you are stuck in complete denial.

Because no. No way. Mitsuya did not just turn everything around on you. He did not just completely dismantle your entire game plan with one smug little smirk.

You refuse to accept this.

You refuse.

Which is why, before your brain can catch up with your actions, you’re already on your feet.

You barely hear Emma calling after you “Where are you going?!” as you storm out of the Toman hideout and straight after Mitsuya.

You catch up to him a few blocks away, walking casually down the dimly lit street like he didn’t just destroy your entire existence a few minutes ago.

“Mitsuya!” you call out, breathless.

He pauses mid-step and turns around, raising an eyebrow “Oh? What happened to ‘I flirt with everyone’?”

Your eye twitches “Shut up.”

He smirks.

Oh, he’s enjoying this.

And it’s pissing you off.

You stomp closer, standing right in front of him, hands clenched at your sides. You don’t even know why you ran after him. You don’t even know what you’re going to say.

All you know is that you’re flustered, frustrated, and maybe you like him more than you were ever willing to admit.

Mitsuya watches you, amusement flickering in his eyes “So?” he asks, tilting his head “Something you wanna say?”

Your heart is racing.

Your brain is a complete mess.

But your pride is still kicking and refusing to back down.

So, instead of saying something remotely sane or rational, you blurt out “You cheated!”

Mitsuya blinks “What?”

“That wasn’t fair!” you exclaim, pointing an accusing finger at him “You knew I was messing with you, and then you just—just flipped it on me!”

His smirk widens “You sound mad.”

“I am mad!” you huff “You...You can’t just say you like me and then pull that stupid smooth move and...and make me malfunction!”

Mitsuya just crosses his arms, watching you ramble “Huh. Sounds like you’re flustered.”

You scoff “Me? Flustered? Ha! Please. I’m just—I’m just calling out your dirty tactics!”

He steps closer.

Too close.

You stop breathing.

Mitsuya looks down at you, eyes glinting with something dangerous.

Oh no.

Not this again.

“You sure about that?” he murmurs.

You hate how your breath catches.

You hate how your face gets hotter.

But most of all, you hate how badly you want to close the distance between you two.

And maybe Mitsuya sees it too.

Because instead of teasing you more, instead of pressing further, he suddenly sighs and shakes his head “You’re impossible.”

Your heart sinks a little at that.

But before you can even react, before you can even think of something to say Mitsuya lifts a hand and flicks your forehead.

“OW—”

He smirks “That’s for running after me like a dramatic little idiot.”

You glare at him, rubbing your forehead “Excuse me for wanting to have the last word!”

Mitsuya chuckles “You never do get the last word with me.”

You narrow your eyes at him “Oh, you wish.”

But before the teasing can continue, a comfortable silence settles between you two. The streetlights cast a soft glow around you, the night air cool against your skin.

And suddenly, neither of you are talking.

Suddenly, you’re just… standing there.

You glance at Mitsuya, expecting to see his usual smug expression, but he’s not smirking anymore. He’s just looking at you, his face unreadable, his usual confident aura a little more… unsure.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck “You really don’t know, do you?”

You blink “Know what?”

Mitsuya exhales through his nose, then mutters, almost to himself, “God, you really are stubborn.”

“Excuse me—”

And then, Mitsuya takes your hand.

Not roughly. Not playfully.

Just softly. Firmly.

Your breath catches.

Mitsuya looks down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing against your knuckles “You really think I hate you?”

Your mouth opens but no words come out.

Because, oh.

Oh.

This… This isn’t a game anymore.

Your heart is pounding. Your mind is spinning.

And all you can do is stand there, completely lost in the way Mitsuya is holding your hand like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, but his voice is gentle “I never hated you.”

You swallow thickly “I—”

Mitsuya sighs again, this time almost affectionately.

And then he laces his fingers with yours.

And you swear the world stops spinning.

You stare at your intertwined fingers.

Your brain has completely shut down.

Mitsuya... calm, cool, composed Mitsuya, is holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like this isn’t something that is completely rewriting everything you thought you knew about him. About yourself.

Your mouth opens, then closes. Then opens again. But no words come out because, for the first time in your entire life, you don’t have a comeback.

Mitsuya watches you, eyes glinting with something unreadable. His usual teasing smirk is gone.

This isn’t a joke anymore.

This isn’t a game.

This is real.

And it’s terrifying.

Finally, finally, Mitsuya sighs, giving your hand a light squeeze “You don’t have to say anything, you know.”

You blink “I—”

“I know,” he says, softer this time “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

Your breath catches.

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?

Even before all the flirting, even before the teasing, even before the war, Mitsuya has always known you better than anyone else.

And now, he’s looking at you with that same understanding, like he knows exactly what’s running through your head right now.

Like he knows you’re scared.

Like he knows you’ve spent so long convincing yourself this was just a joke, just a game, just another thing to mess with him about—because admitting it was real meant admitting that you’ve already lost.

That you’ve always lost.

Because the truth?

You were never really fighting him.

You were fighting yourself.

Mitsuya smiles faintly, tilting his head “So?” he murmurs “Are you done running yet?”

You suck in a sharp breath.

And then you do something completely reckless.

You step forward, drop his hand, grab his face and kiss him.

Mitsuya freezes for half a second before he melts into it, his hands instantly finding your waist, pulling you closer like he’s been waiting for this.

The kiss is soft. Slow.

But at the same time it’s everything.

Everything you’ve been avoiding. Everything you’ve been too afraid to say. Everything you’ve been pretending wasn’t there.

It’s Mitsuya.

And that’s the scariest part of all.

When you finally pull away, Mitsuya is looking at you like you’ve just completely ruined him.

His breath is uneven. His grip on your waist is still firm, like he’s making sure you’re real.

And then he grins.

Smug. Triumphant.

“Wow,” he breathes, amused “So you do like me.”

You groan, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder “You’re the worst.”

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head “And you’re mine now”

Your heart stumbles.

You should fight him on that. You should.

But…

You don’t.

Because maybe you don’t mind losing after all.

You knew.

You knew walking into Toman’s usual meeting spot today was going to be a nightmare.

You considered not showing up. Just… disappearing from society. Moving to another country. Changing your name. Starting a new life.

But unfortunately, Mitsuya had dragged you here.

Literally.

“You can’t avoid them forever.” he had said this morning, looking way too smug for someone who also has to deal with the consequences of last night.

Now, as you step inside, every single pair of eyes snaps to you and Mitsuya, and...

Yeah. You should have faked an illness.

Because the entire gang loses their minds.

“OH MY GOD, IT HAPPENED.” Hina shrieks, nearly shaking Emma to death.

Emma, in turn, is crying “I—I knew it! I knew it! My ship—my beautiful ship—has sailed!”

Chifuyu stands up so fast his chair scrapes against the floor “WAIT. WAIT. WHEN? HOW?!”

Baji, of course, skips all rational responses and goes straight to chaos “HEY, WHO CONFESSED FIRST?!”

Mikey, still sitting in his usual lazy position, just grins “Didn’t even have to bet on it. Saw it coming from a mile away.”

Draken leans against the wall, shaking his head with a chuckle “Well, damn. Took you long enough.”

You groan, covering your face “Oh my god. I hate all of you.”

Mitsuya, the traitor, just slides his hands into his pockets, completely unfazed “See? Told you they wouldn’t shut up about it.”

You whip your head toward him “You knew this would happen, and you still dragged me here?!”

He grins, so damn smug “Of course.”

Baji slams his hand on the table “WAIT, WAIT, WAIT—SO WHO WON THE FLIRT WAR?”

Chifuyu immediately turns to you, eyes blazing with betrayal “It was him, wasn’t it?! You lost, didn’t you?!”

You refuse to answer.

Which is answer enough.

“OH MY GOD,” Baji howls with laughter “SHE LOST!”

Chifuyu grabs his head, devastated “I had so much faith in you!”

Emma sniffles dramatically “She lost the battle, but she won love.”

Hina nods, serious “It’s the best kind of loss.”

Takemichi just hums in satisfaction “Balance has been restored to the universe.”

Meanwhile, you are this close to throwing yourself out.

“I hate all of you.” you repeat.

Mitsuya leans down, voice way too smug “You love me, though.”

Your entire body malfunctions.

And everyone loses it again.

Baji actually falls off his chair.

Chifuyu looks personally attacked “Oh, this is painful.”

Draken claps Mitsuya on the back, laughing “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

And Mitsuya just smiles, absolutely thriving in your suffering.

Yeah.

Yeah, you’re never living this down.

But then, Mitsuya takes your hand, gives it a light squeeze and okay.

Maybe it’s not so bad.

304 notes · View notes

missmadella · 2 months ago

Text

"Prayers and Boba Fight" (Mikey x Reader)

Summary: “You never meant to meet him like that. But fate — and a little chaos — had other plans.”

It started on a snowy Christmas Eve. You were just going to the church to light a candle… not expecting to find a battlefield outside. Black Dragons on the ground. Draken on the stairs. And you, sitting beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world — shooting boba pearls at anyone who dared to twitch.

Then he came out of the church. Manjirō Sano. Mikey. And he stared at you like the world just flipped on its head.

From that moment, everything changed.

You didn’t plan to fall in love. You definitely didn’t plan to fall fast. But there you were — kissing in the snow, tangled in warm blankets, meeting his family, becoming part of Toman’s chaos and heart all at once.

Words: 6585

Snow fell in soft silence as you crossed the last street toward the old church.

Your breath puffed out in front of you like a cloud, swirling before disappearing into the chilled December night. You had bundled up—scarf tight, coat buttoned high, fingers tucked into your sleeves—but the cold still nipped at your skin. It was Christmas Eve, and the city had gone quiet, streets empty save for the occasional car or flickering streetlamp. It was your favorite kind of night. Still. Sacred.

The church wasn’t far now. You came every year—alone, mostly. Sometimes to light a candle, sometimes to sit in the pews and just breathe. No grand religious reasons, really. Just... peace. A quiet kind of hope.

But tonight, that peace cracked before you even reached the front steps.

Your boots slowed on the icy sidewalk as your eyes scanned the strange scene in front of you: several boys, unconscious or groaning, lay scattered near the stone stairs leading up to the warm-lit entrance of the church.

You blinked. Leather jackets. “Black Dragons,” stitched in bold. Bloodied knuckles. Some were clutching sides, others simply lying still with snow gathering in their hair.

What the hell?

And then you saw him.

Sitting casually at the top of the stairs, one arm resting on his bent knee, was a tall boy with a thick braid and a black jacket slung lazily over one shoulder. He was still, quiet, watching. His eyes met yours as you stopped at the base of the steps.

He didn’t move.

You didn’t either.

“…It’s safe,” he said finally. His voice was low, even, almost bored. “They’re not getting up anytime soon.”

You glanced around again. “Looks like it.”

The stranger didn’t respond.

You hesitated for a moment, then stepped lightly over one of the groaning boys and climbed the stairs. You didn’t go inside. Instead, you sat on the step just beneath his—keeping one foot angled toward the warmth behind the doors, just in case this was a mistake.

He didn’t stop you.

Up close, you could see blood on his knuckles, a fresh cut on his cheekbone. His breathing was steady, like the adrenaline had worn off, but he was still alert. Not relaxed exactly—just patient. Like he was waiting for something or someone.

You pulled out the only thing in your bag that felt vaguely festive: a half-finished cup of bubble tea, still cold from being buried between gloves and a wrapped apple.

You took a sip. Then another.

The boy looked at you again, one brow raised. “You came to the church with boba?”

“Technically, I came with boba to the vicinity of the church,” you replied. “I didn’t think there’d be a fight club on the front lawn.”

He chuckled—just once. “It was supposed to be quick.”

You tilted your head. “You win?”

He glanced at the pile of groaning gang members behind you. “What do you think?”

Fair enough.

You sipped again, then idly drew a tapioca ball up the straw and aimed it like a tiny cannon.

Plop.

The pearl bounced harmlessly off one of the Black Dragons’ shoulders. The guy groaned again and rolled over.

You nodded to yourself. “Fifty points.”

“...What?”

“Body shot,” you said seriously, adjusting your aim. “Head’s a hundred.”

The boy blinked.

You fired another. Plop. Missed.

“Zero,” you muttered.

Now he was watching you with something between confusion and amusement. “You’re scoring your boba shots?”

“I was coming to pray,” you said, as though that explained everything. “But the view kind of changed. So I improvised.”

He let out a dry laugh, genuinely amused. “That’s the weirdest thing I’ve seen all night. And I just watched a guy try to swing a tire iron at my face.”

“You ducked, I’m assuming?”

“Mostly.”

You grinned, reloading with another pearl. “Want to help? You can call the targets.”

He raised a brow. “You’re joking.”

“I’m festive,” you replied. “This is a holiday activity now.”

For a long second, he stared at you like you were from another planet. Then, to your surprise, he leaned forward slightly and gestured to a Black Dragon twitching by the railing.

“That one moved.”

You fired. Plop.

“Shoulder again.”

“Fifty.”

And just like that, the two of you sat on the church steps, scoring unconscious gang members like it was a twisted video game. He pointed. You shot. Occasionally, he judged your aim with unfiltered honesty (“That was pathetic,” “You call that a headshot?”), and you replied with dramatic gasps and mock offense.

There was something oddly natural about it. The quiet laughter. The light from the stained-glass windows. The sound of the wind whistling gently through the church spire.

“I’m Draken, by the way,” he said after a while.

You looked at him.

“Real name’s Ken, but no one calls me that.”

“Draken,” you repeated. “Cool name.”

He shrugged. “Yours?”

“(Y/N).” You offered him a gloved hand.

He didn’t hesitate. His handshake was warm, firm. “Nice to meet you, Boba Sniper.”

You snorted. “I’ve been called worse.”

“Bet.”

Another groan from below caught your attention. One of the thugs tried to sit up.

“Headshot opportunity,” Draken murmured.

You nodded solemnly. “Don’t miss this one.”

Plop.

Right on the temple.

“One hundred.”

You both laughed again.

Then the church doors creaked behind you.

Muffled footsteps.

You turned your head slightly.

A small group emerged—five or six guys, all bruised but buzzing with victory. They stopped halfway through the doorway as soon as they spotted you sitting on the steps beside Draken.

The boy in the center had pale blond hair and dark, unreadable eyes. He wore a hoodie under his coat, and there was a bruise just starting to form on his cheekbone.

He froze in place.

Draken didn’t even turn. “Took you long enough.”

Mikey didn’t respond. He was too busy staring.

You looked back at him, blinking. “Hi.”

His eyes flicked to the cup in your hands, then to the scattered pearls on the ground. One was still slowly rolling down the stairs like a marble.

“What… is going on here?” Mitsuya asked, stepping around Mikey with a cautious frown.

“She’s playing sniper,” Draken said simply. “With tapioca.”

Mikey’s gaze hadn’t left your face. You tilted your head at him, smile gentle.

“I was passing by,” you explained. “Came to pray. Saw the chaos. Decided to join in with my own weapons.”

She’s beautiful, Mikey thought, not entirely prepared for how breathless it made him.

Snowflakes clung to your hair. Your cheeks were red from the cold, and your fingers clutched the empty cup like a goblet. But it wasn’t just your looks. It was your presence—like you weren’t afraid to be odd, weren’t trying to impress anyone, just… living.

“Did it help?” Takemichi asked hesitantly. “The, uh… prayer?”

You smiled softly. “Haven’t gone in yet. Got a little distracted.”

Draken stood, brushing the snow from his coat. “She’s weird,” he said matter-of-factly, then added, “But she’s cool.”

You shrugged. “Takes one to know one.”

Then you turned your gaze back to Mikey.

He swallowed.

You held the cup out toward him. “You wanna try?”

The question was casual, but your eyes held something more — challenge, curiosity, invitation.

Mikey took a slow step forward.

“I’ve never fired tapioca before,” he said honestly.

“First time for everything.”

He sat on the step below you and took the cup from your hand. His fingers brushed yours — warm, even through your glove. You guided his hand, adjusting the angle of the straw, your voice soft now, as if this was a ritual instead of a game.

“There,” you said. “Now exhale. Don’t hesitate.”

Plop.

A hit. Mid-chest. One of the Black Dragons groaned in protest.

“Fifty points,” you whispered.

Mikey looked up at you.

You smiled. “Not bad.”

And just like that, his entire heart tilted toward you.

The others eventually filtered back inside, murmuring about warmth and bruises and food. But Mikey didn’t move.

You stayed on the steps together for a while longer—snow falling around you, the church bell chiming the hour.

And Mikey, Tokyo’s toughest leader, found something he hadn’t expected on a cold Christmas Eve: a quiet kind of warmth. And a girl with a boba cup who had already stolen his attention—and maybe, if he was lucky, a little more.

___________________________________________________________________________

You tilted the bubble tea cup, squinting inside. Only slush and a few lonely pearls remained, clinging to the plastic walls like the end of a long battle.

You gave it one final shake. Plop. A weak little bounce off someone's ankle. No more fight left in it.

“That’s it,” you sighed. “I’m officially out of ammo.”

Draken stood beside you, stretching his back with a grunt. “Guess the war’s over.”

You handed the cup over to him with a small grin. “Bury it with honors.”

He gave a lazy salute and dropped the cup gently into the trash bin by the steps. “You still gonna go in?”

You looked toward the glowing doors of the church. Warm light spilled out through the stained-glass windows, painting little patches of red and blue across the snow. Your smile softened.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I think I will.”

Just as you were about to step forward, Mikey’s voice reached you.

“I’ll go with you.”

You turned your head.

He was still seated a few steps below, hands resting in the pockets of his coat, but his gaze was steady—warm and open in a way you hadn’t expected from someone with such a reputation.

You blinked. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said, standing. “If that’s okay.”

It was more than okay.

You nodded, and without another word, you and Mikey stepped into the church together.

___________________________________________________________________________

The interior was quiet and still, with the warm hum of organ music echoing softly from speakers hidden somewhere in the walls. No choir. No mass tonight. Just the lingering scent of candle wax, pine, and something faintly floral from a wreath by the altar.

A few other people were scattered in the pews—some praying, others simply sitting in silence. The world outside could’ve been a thousand miles away.

Your steps echoed lightly as you moved toward the front, Mikey just behind you, hands still in his pockets, taking it all in with quiet curiosity.

You knelt at the side altar, where a small table offered rows of tiny candles—some already lit, flickering in shallow pools of wax. You dropped a coin in the donation box and selected a match from the little tin, striking it gently against the side.

Mikey stayed back, watching.

You lit your candle carefully and placed it in the stand, letting the flame catch fully before pulling your hand away. Then you sat back on your heels, hands in your lap, just watching it burn for a long moment.

You didn’t say a word.

And Mikey didn’t ask.

When you finally stood again, he stepped forward and looked at the candle with a curious tilt of his head.

“Do you do this every year?”

“Mm-hmm,” you said. “Been coming since I was little. Light a candle, make a wish, thank the universe for letting me live another year. That kind of thing.”

He smiled faintly. “That’s kinda nice.”

You looked at him. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ever do something like this? Quiet stuff. Peaceful stuff.”

He was quiet for a beat too long.

Then: “Not really.”

You nodded. “Would you want to?”

“…Maybe. Depends who I’m with.”

There was a pause between you then—not awkward, but full. Heavy in a way that felt meaningful. You looked up at him. He was already watching you.

“Your wish,” he said softly. “You gonna tell me what it was?”

You hesitated.

Then shrugged. “Only if you tell me yours.”

“I didn’t make one.”

You tilted your head. “Then make one now.”

He didn’t look away.

“I wish,” he said slowly, voice barely above a whisper, “that this night didn’t have to end.”

Your breath caught slightly.

“…That’s a good wish,” you murmured.

He smiled, just barely. “I thought so.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The two of you left the church a little while later. The others were gone now—Draken must’ve herded them back to wherever home base was for the night. The steps were empty, the snow had thickened, and the silence returned.

You both stood under the church archway, snow drifting down between you.

You turned to face him. “So... where do you go after a night like this?”

Mikey looked at you, his eyes soft and curious again. “Anywhere you are.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

Then smiled.

“…Smooth.”

He laughed—a real, quiet laugh. “Only a little.”

There was a moment where neither of you moved.

Then you stepped forward, brushed some snow off his shoulder, and said gently, “You coming, Mikey?”

He looked at you like no one ever had before.

And then he followed you down the stairs.

___________________________________________________________________________

You and Mikey stood at the bottom of the church steps, snowflakes catching in your hair and melting against your coat. The streetlamps gave everything a golden glow, and the whole city felt hushed, like it was holding its breath for something.

Mikey kicked at a patch of snow absently, his hands deep in his hoodie pockets. You were still looking up at the sky, breath misting in the air.

“I should walk you home,” he said, suddenly.

You turned toward him, surprised. “What?”

He shifted his weight. “I mean, it’s late. You never know who’s still lurking around.” He glanced back at the faint memory of the Black Dragons, now long gone. “Could be more of those guys.”

You gave a soft laugh, your voice gentler now. “I appreciate that, but…”

You paused, then looked up at the sky again.

“…I don’t really wanna go home yet.”

Mikey blinked. “Why not?”

You didn’t answer right away.

Finally, you said, “It’s just… when I’m out here, walking, or watching the snow, it feels like time slows down. Like I’m not supposed to be anywhere. Not expected to be anything. At home, I always feel like I’m... running out of time, or energy, or space.”

He didn’t rush to respond.

Instead, he nodded. “Yeah. I get that.”

You looked at him again, surprised by how much he meant it.

“You do?”

Mikey’s eyes were soft now, distant. “Most people expect me to be the strongest, the leader. Toman’s ‘Invincible Mikey.’” He said it like it was someone else's name. “But out here, when it’s quiet like this... it’s like none of that matters. I’m just me.”

You gave him a long look, snow still drifting lazily down between you.

Then, quietly: “So we’re both hiding in the snow.”

He smiled. “Maybe. Or maybe we’re just finally showing who we really are.”

For a while, you walked in companionable silence, your boots crunching softly. The street you wandered down was lined with old houses wrapped in fairy lights. Some windows flickered with candles. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and a train horn called out, distant and sleepy.

“So,” Mikey said, nudging your elbow. “What kind of person are you when you’re not sniping people with boba balls?”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume I have other hobbies.”

“Oh no,” he said dramatically. “Are you telling me that was your entire personality?”

You smirked. “That and aggressively yelling at movie characters.”

“Nice. I yell at ramen bowls when they’re too hot.”

“That feels targeted.”

He grinned. “Only if the boba fits.”

You were both laughing now, your steps light in the snow. The conversation had drifted into comfortable teasing and shared stories—his favorite manga, your terrible cooking, his obsession with taiyaki, your failed attempt to skateboard once (you hit a trash can). He asked you questions you weren’t used to answering. You answered ones he never thought anyone would care to ask.

Eventually, your walk took you to a quiet park dusted in white. The benches were buried, and the swings swayed slightly in the breeze.

And then—

You stopped, reached down, and scooped up a handful of snow.

Mikey caught the movement too late.

Thwump.

A clean hit to the side of his jacket.

He stared down at the wet patch, then slowly raised his gaze to you.

You grinned like a villain. “Fifty points.”

He blinked.

Then crouched down wordlessly, scooping snow with both hands.

“Oh no,” you said, backing up. “You wouldn’t—”

Thwump.

You shrieked as snow caught your shoulder, and Mikey laughed—really laughed—as you ducked behind a tree.

“Head’s a hundred, right?” he called.

“I will end you, Sano Manjirō!”

It turned into chaos fast.

Snow flying. Boots slipping. Laughter echoing in the night. You tackled him behind a bench once; he shoved a clump down the back of your coat in revenge. You both shouted threats that meant nothing and laughed until your stomachs hurt and your hands stung.

Eventually, you both collapsed onto a park bench, breathless, cheeks pink, snow in your hair.

You were still smiling as you caught your breath. “You’re ruthless.”

“I learned from the best,” he replied, bumping his shoulder into yours.

There was a quiet that settled after that. A calm one.

Mikey turned his head toward you, his voice lower now.

“I’m really glad I met you tonight.”

You turned to him. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “You’re not like anyone I’ve met before.”

You gave him a soft look. “Same.”

The snow fell around you like it had all night, but now, under that hush, with Mikey beside you, it didn’t feel like hiding anymore.

It felt like being found.

___________________________________________________________________________

You both sat in silence for a little while, the cold forgotten under the warmth of shared laughter and a night that felt too perfect to end. Snow had gathered in the folds of your coats, in Mikey’s hair, on your lashes. But you didn’t move.

Neither did he.

The quiet of the city stretched around you like a blanket.

Then, hesitantly, Mikey shifted a little, turning more toward you.

“I, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck with a gloved hand. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”

You tilted your head. “Throw snowballs at strangers?”

He gave you a half-laugh. “That too. But I meant… talk to someone like this. Not on a night like this.”

You looked at him for a long second, then smiled gently.

“I’m glad you did.”

He looked down at his hands, then back up—eyes searching yours. “Can I… see you again?”

Your heart did a small, quiet somersault.

You didn’t answer immediately. You wanted to remember how he looked right now—soft and hopeful, like he wasn’t Mikey, the leader of Toman, the legendary fighter—but Mikey, the boy who had followed you into a church just to make sure you weren’t alone.

You nodded.

“I’d like that.”

His smile—genuine, wide, almost surprised—lit up his face in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“Maybe New Year’s Eve?” he asked, voice tentative. “If you’re not busy?”

You tapped your chin, pretending to think. “I might be booked sniping people with mochi balls this time.”

“Oh damn,” he said with mock seriousness. “I’ll bring armor.”

You giggled, and he looked like he wanted to bottle the sound.

Then you reached into your pocket, pulled out your phone, and handed it to him. “Here. So you don’t lose your target.”

He took it, fingers brushing yours.

You both froze for just a second at the touch. It was warm. Real.

He punched in his number, then handed it back, his name already saved as Mikey ☀️.

You smiled down at it.

“Sunshine?” you asked, teasing.

He shrugged with a lazy grin. “Just in case you forget who made your Christmas night better.”

You laughed, and when you stood, he did too.

As you both walked slowly down the snowy path, not quite ready to say goodbye, your shoulders bumped again.

Mikey looked up at the sky.

“So what do you wish for on New Year’s?”

You looked at him.

And this time, you didn’t hesitate.

“Something worth waiting for.”

His smile faltered just a little—but in the best way. Like it meant something to him.

And when you finally waved goodbye at the corner, snow still falling in quiet curtains, Mikey stood there watching you go until you disappeared into the night.

He pulled out his phone. Stared at your name. And whispered to himself,

“…Definitely worth waiting for.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Mikey POV:

At first, he didn’t even register her. He was still buzzing from the fight — fists raw, knuckles stinging, that slow-burning adrenaline fizzing out of his blood like smoke.

Draken sat on the steps, calm as always, arms folded like the battle hadn’t just happened. Mikey stood beside him, quiet, waiting for the rest of Toman to show.

Then... she came.

Just walked up like she belonged there.

Mikey watched her from the side of his vision — scarf a little crooked, cheeks pink from the cold, bubble tea in hand — stepping over unconscious Black Dragons like it was nothing. Like the whole scene wasn’t completely insane.

She didn’t say a word.

Just sat next to Draken, legs swinging, calm as still water.

Then she started shooting people.

Well... boba pearls, to be exact.

“Fifty points if I get the guy groaning over there,” she whispered to Draken, grinning.

Mikey blinked.

What.

Draken choked on a laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” She sucked up a pearl, took aim, and thwip — nailed the guy in the shoulder.

He groaned louder.

Mikey couldn’t look away.

He didn’t know her name. He didn’t know where she came from, or why she wasn’t running in the opposite direction like any normal person would be. But in that moment, watching her laugh with Draken like they were kids on a playground — he knew something in his chest had moved.

Shifted.

Clicked.

He had no name for it.

Only this: I want to know her.

He barely heard the others approach. Barely registered questions being asked, or her explaining she had just come to pray.

He only remembered watching the snow land in her hair and thinking, She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.

And for the first time in a long, long time... Mikey felt something new.

Hope.

___________________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You’d only meant to see him again. Just to talk. Just to walk a little, maybe drink something warm. Like normal people figuring out whatever this was between them.

But the second you saw Mikey again — really saw him — with snow still in his hair and that same soft look in his eyes like he’d been waiting just for you—

—everything melted away.

Now your back was pressed against the wall of a narrow alley behind the café, breath hot in the winter air, his body close, too close, lips on yours like he was trying to memorize every second he hadn’t had you.

And God, you let him.

Mikey’s hands framed your face, thumbs brushing the edge of your jaw as he kissed you like he didn’t want to come up for air. His lips were soft but demanding — slow and then urgent, pulling sounds from your throat you didn’t know you could make. The kind of kiss that made your knees weak and your heart race and your fingers curl in his hoodie like you might fall apart without him.

He pulled back just a little, just enough to breathe, foreheads pressed together. His voice was low. Raw.

“I tried not to rush this,” he whispered, breathless, “I really did.”

Your hands were gripping his coat, your voice barely steady. “I know.”

“I thought it was just a crush at first. But I keep thinking about you. All the time.”

You nodded, heart pounding so loud it echoed in your ears.

“It’s not just you,” you murmured. “I feel crazy around you. Like I need you close or I’ll lose something I don’t even understand yet.”

He groaned softly at your words, like they undid him. “You’re not making this easy.”

“Neither are you.”

And then you kissed him again — hard, deep, like you were trying to prove something to each other. That this wasn’t some one-time spark. That this pull between you wasn’t fake, or fleeting. That whatever this was, it meant something.

Because when his lips found your neck and your hands tangled in his hair, you didn’t feel like you were rushing.

You felt like you were home.

“I should take you somewhere,” Mikey murmured against your lips between kisses, his breath warm on your skin. “Not like... behind a café.”

You chuckled softly, lips brushing his jaw. “You say that like you weren’t into it.”

“I was,” he admitted, kissing you again. “That’s the problem.”

You both stood there a moment, pressed close, hearts still racing, the city quiet behind you.

Then he paused, his forehead still resting against yours.

“My family’s out tonight,” he said suddenly, almost like he was confessing a secret. “Do you wanna… come over so I can introduce you to them later?”

You blinked.

Not because you didn’t want to.

But because it felt big.

Mikey never let people close.

And now he was offering you his space.

You smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

___________________________________________________________________________

His house was small, older, but warm in a way that said home, not just walls. Family photos on the walls, a faint smell of miso still lingering in the air. Mikey kicked off his shoes, his usual lazy swagger returning just slightly.

He led you to his room without hesitation.

And when he shut the door behind you, something shifted again.

The moment you were alone — really alone — it hit both of you at once.

You kissed first.

Or maybe he did.

It didn’t matter.

You ended up in his lap, on the edge of his bed, mouths moving in sync like you'd been kissing forever. His hands slid beneath the hem of your sweater just to feel the heat of your skin, his fingers gentle but hungry, pulling you closer. Your legs straddled his thighs, knees pressed into the mattress, your arms wrapped around his neck like you never wanted to let go.

Every kiss was deeper.

Slower.

Then desperate again.

Like you were trying to memorize the exact way this felt — the quiet. The heat. The fact that for once, nothing else in the world mattered.

Mikey let out a breathless laugh when you bit his lower lip, just barely. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

You smiled against his mouth. “Only for you.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“It is.”

He pulled you into another kiss, groaning softly into your mouth as you tugged him back down with you.

You didn’t hear the keys.

You didn’t hear the door.

You didn’t even notice anything—

—until a voice called from the hallway:

“Mikey? We’re back!”

Your body froze. He stiffened too, eyes wide.

“Shit,” he whispered.

You scrambled off him like the bed had caught fire, both of you laughing under your breath, cheeks flushed, hair a mess.

There was a knock at the door.

Mikey stood and cleared his throat like he hadn’t just had you in his lap. “Yeah?”

His sister cracked the door open.

“Oh—sorry, didn’t know you had someone over.”

Mikey stepped halfway out, shutting the door behind him with a quick smile. “Yeah. We were just… hanging out.”

The second it closed again, he turned to you, face red, expression torn between laughter and panic.

You collapsed back on the bed, giggling into your hands.

“That was way too close.”

“I know,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re evil.”

“You invited me!”

“You kissed me first!”

You smirked at him. “So… round two when the coast is clear?”

He looked at you — warm, laughing, eyes soft — and grinned.

“Absolutely.”

The house had settled into silence.

No more footsteps. No more knocks. Just the soft hum of wind outside and the way your heartbeat started to slow.

Mikey’s room was dim, only lit by the soft glow of his desk lamp. You lay side by side on his bed now — fully clothed, tangled in each other but with a kind of stillness that wasn’t awkward. It felt earned.

His arm was under your head. Yours was draped across his stomach. You could feel the quiet rhythm of his breathing beneath your fingertips.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

Then:

“You always this chaotic on dates?” he asked softly, turning his head toward you.

You smiled against his hoodie. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Oh, it’s a date now.”

You laughed quietly.

A beat passed.

Mikey’s voice lowered, just above a whisper. “You make it easy.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Being around you. Talking. Laughing. Wanting to kiss you every five seconds…” He gave a faint, slightly self-conscious chuckle. “I didn’t think it’d feel like this.”

You shifted to look at him, your face barely inches from his. “Like what?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then his thumb gently brushed your cheek, slow, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

“Like I could actually be happy again.”

Your chest tightened.

The words weren’t flashy. But they were real. Honest in that way Mikey rarely was — the way he only got when everything else went quiet and he stopped pretending to be the indestructible leader.

You touched his jaw, your voice barely above a breath. “I want to be someone you can have that with.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You already are.”

And then he kissed you again — not rushed or heated like before, but slow. Meaningful.

This kiss didn’t ask for anything.

It just said: I’m here.

You curled closer to him as the night pressed in around you. No more teasing. No more flustered panic or being interrupted.

Just you and Mikey.

Breathing the same air. Holding on.

Saying without words what your hearts had already figured out:

This thing between us? It’s real.

And maybe, just maybe...

It’s only the beginning.

___________________________________________________________________________

The sun crept in slowly, dusting everything in soft light. You didn’t remember falling asleep, not really — just warm limbs tangled under a blanket, your cheek resting on Mikey’s chest, his heartbeat steady beneath you like the lullaby you never knew you needed.

Mikey stirred before you did, eyes barely open, one arm slung around your waist. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Didn’t want the moment to end.

But the door creaked.

And then—

“...Eh?”

Emma stood in the doorway. Hair messy from sleep. Eyes wide. Staring.

She blinked. Looked at you. Looked at Mikey. Looked at your fingers loosely intertwined.

Then, without a word…

She just slowly backed out and shut the door.

“…shit,” Mikey muttered under his breath.

Downstairs, Emma poured tea for her grandfather, pretending nothing was unusual.

“Mhm. They’re cuddling in Mikey’s bed,” she said casually.

He choked on his tea.

___________________________________________________________________________

When you both finally came down — nervous, hair messy, trying to act like the situation wasn’t a deeply embarrassing sitcom — you found Emma and the granpa sitting at the table, both clearly waiting.

Emma was grinning.

He was trying very hard to look neutral.

“Morning,” Mikey muttered.

You bowed politely. “Good morning, I’m really sorry if—if it looked weird, or—uh, I’m [Y/N], Mikey’s… friend.”

Emma’s smile widened.

“Friend?” she echoed.

You shot Mikey a panicked glance.

“Okay, not just a friend,” Mikey admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “We’re kind of… figuring it out.”

Emma leaned forward on her elbows, chin resting in her hands. “I like her.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah. You’re cute, you didn’t bolt out the window, and Mikey’s, like, weirdly soft around you. That’s enough for me.”

Mikey groaned. “Emmaa…”

Mikey and Emmas Grandpa raised an eyebrow. “So. When’s the wedding?”

You both stared at him.

“What?!” Mikey yelped.

“I’m joking,” he said, sipping his tea, totally deadpan.

Emma beamed. “But not really! You two look so cute together. You did fall asleep all snuggled up. That’s, like, two steps away from a honeymoon.”

“Emma—” you laughed, red-faced. “We’ve only known each other for a couple weeks.”

“Exactly!” she winked. “That’s romantic. You’re on a fast track.”

Mikey groaned into his hands, face bright red.

You were just as bad, hiding your smile behind your cup of tea.

Still, beneath all the teasing and the blushes, something warm settled into your chest.

They weren’t pushing you away.

They welcomed you like you belonged there.

And maybe, just maybe…

You already did.

___________________________________________________________________________

The shrine was glowing under the quiet evening sky — lanterns lit, soft cherry blossoms fluttering in the air, and the usual buzz of bikes, laughter, and the low murmur of Toman’s top ranks gathering for their monthly meeting.

But for you, this place didn’t feel intimidating anymore.

It felt like home.

“Oi, Mikey,” a voice called from below. “You gonna let her freeze to death up there?”

You turned with a grin just as Draken stepped up the stone steps toward you, a lollipop stick lazily hanging from his mouth.

Mikey rolled his eyes and immediately shrugged off his jacket, draping it around your shoulders without a word.

“Happy now?” he muttered.

You tugged the oversized sleeves over your hands and smiled sweetly at Draken. “He’s been trying to pretend I’m not cold for twenty minutes.”

“I know,” Draken snorted. “He does that. Acts like if he’s not cold, no one else can be either.”

Mikey squinted at him. “Betrayal.”

“Oh, please,” Draken waved him off, then nudged you lightly with his elbow. “Still got that chaotic streak in you? Any boba balls in that bag?”

You both laughed.

“Don’t tempt me,” you said, nudging him back. “I could smuggle some. Old habits die hard.”

“She’s family,” Draken said to no one in particular, shaking his head with a grin. “Even when she’s a menace.”

“I’m not a menace—!”

“Remind me who convinced Mitsuya to let you ‘custom-design’ Mikey’s birthday uniform?”

Mikey gave you a slow, amused look. “You did put glitter in the seams.”

“Strategically.”

“There was glitter in my hair for three weeks.”

You shrugged proudly. “You sparkled. Deal with it.”

“God, you’re all insane,” Chifuyu said, joining the group, followed by Smiley, Angry, and a few others — all of whom gave you easy, familiar nods and smiles. You returned each one.

You were Mikey’s girl.

You’d earned your place — through chaos, kindness, loyalty, and the very same fire that first caught Mikey’s heart that winter outside the church.

As the group settled, Draken leaned closer to Mikey with a grin. “Hard to believe you went from starstruck idiot to calling her ‘wifey’ in front of everyone.”

“Shut up,” Mikey mumbled.

“He was speechless when he first saw her, you remember?” Draken looked at you with a teasing smile. “Didn’t even blink. I thought he was broken.”

“I thought he was judging my coat,” you said innocently.

Mikey groaned. “Why are you all like this?”

“Because it’s funny,” Mitsuya said from the side, barely hiding his smirk. “And true.”

You leaned into Mikey’s side, smiling. “You were kind of stunned.”

“I still am,” he muttered, quiet enough only you could hear.

Then — shamelessly — he turned and kissed you, quick but full of warmth, hands on your waist, eyes soft. He did it again. And again. You swatted his arm, cheeks pink.

“Mikey,” you hissed, laughing under your breath, “the meeting—!”

“Sue me,” he said, pulling you close and resting his chin on your head.

“You two gonna make out again or can we start?” Chifuyu asked, raising a brow.

“We could do both,” Mikey replied, completely unbothered.

“Please don’t.”

Everyone laughed.

As the meeting began and Mikey stepped forward — you stayed behind him, arms crossed, jacket warm around your shoulders, eyes locked on him.

Still your Mikey.

Still that boy who looked at you like a miracle.

And now?

You were part of the legend.

Not just beside him — with him.

Always.

___________________________________________________________________________

Snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked hand in hand, fingers laced, the world blanketed in a quiet hush. The town had already begun to sleep, soft lights glowing from windows, wreaths swaying gently in the cold wind.

But the old church — the same one where everything started — still stood proud against the night sky, its bell tower lit like a warm beacon.

Mikey squeezed your hand as the two of you stepped through the front gates. “Still remember the first time you came here?”

You looked up at him, your breath forming little clouds in the air. “I remember stepping over unconscious gang members.”

He laughed, low and soft. “Yeah. Romantic start.”

You smiled. “It was, in its own way. You were there.”

“Was stunned out of my damn mind,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Didn’t even believe you were real.”

You bumped your shoulder into his. “And now you’re stuck with me forever.”

“Married to you forever,” he said proudly. “My girl. My wife. My Sano.”

You grinned, heart warm despite the cold.

The church doors creaked open gently as you stepped inside together. The air smelled of old wood, wax, and pine — peaceful, sacred. At the front, a table had been set with rows of thin white candles, flickering in the dim light. Others had come and gone, leaving prayers behind, but now the space was mostly empty.

You picked out a candle and lit it with practiced hands, Mikey standing just behind you, arms wrapped gently around your waist as you watched the flame come to life.

“This is our thing now,” you whispered. “Every Christmas.”

“Tradition,” Mikey murmured. “Just like kissing you before we leave.”

You laughed, leaning back into him.

You were known here now. Not as the “boba girl,” not just as “Mikey’s wife” — but as Lady Sano. The woman who stood at Mikey’s side not only through battles and chaos, but in peace. The kind heart who remembered everyone’s names, who brought snacks to Toman meets, who never missed a birthday.

You were family to them all.

And to Mikey, you were everything.

“You know,” he said softly, voice brushing against your ear, “I don’t think there’s a version of my life where you’re not the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You turned slightly, enough to look up at him. “You say that every time.”

“Because it’s still true,” he replied. “You changed everything, [Y/N]. You didn’t just save me. You built this life with me.”

His fingers found the band of your ring, tracing it gently, almost like a ritual.

“I’m glad you’re a Sano now,” he whispered. “So damn glad I get to say you’re mine.”

You kissed him, slow and deep, surrounded by candlelight and silence and the warmth of years shared.

Outside, the snow kept falling.

But inside that church — the place where a strange girl once sat beside Draken and rewrote Mikey’s fate with a laugh and a handful of boba — love had come full circle.

Hand in hand, Sano Manjirō and Sano [Y/N] stepped back out into the night, their names whispered with fondness through Tokyo, their legacy written not just in strength, but in love.

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t4kalcvr · 1 month ago

Text

EL CHICO DEL APARTAMENTO 512

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀 word count :: ( 9,341 ) genre :: fluffyyy, strangers to neighbors to lovers content contains :: a lil spicy action at the end, but overall fluff !!!

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

it starts with the ceiling.

the soft thuds above you are uneven, clumsy in the way only children’s footsteps can be. you’re curled into your couch like it’s a second skin, eyes half-lidded, a blanket tangled around your legs, when the chaos begins. first a faint screech—maybe a chair leg scraping across the hardwood—then a flurry of movement. small feet darting. a louder stomp. a laugh. giggles.

and then a voice.

not a child’s. smooth, worn-in like a favorite hoodie. young, maybe. maybe your age, maybe a few years older. he sounds gentle, patient even through the walls—laughing low and quiet as he says something you can’t quite make out. you catch the word “hey,” and then one of the girls shrieking in response. then something about socks.

your brow furrows. you glance up at the ceiling like it might offer answers.

great. loud neighbors.

you haven’t had any before now. apartment 512’s been empty since you moved in six months ago—no footsteps, no chatter, no sound of life above your own. for a while it felt like your space floated on its own little island between concrete and silence.

now it vibrates with energy that doesn’t belong to you.

you listen without meaning to.

more movement. the scrape of something heavy being dragged. a soft thump. then another. maybe furniture. you shift on the couch, the remote slipping off your blanket and thudding softly onto the rug.

a young dad, you think. probably moved in with his two little girls. you picture him: tall maybe, shoulders broad from carrying groceries and toddlers. dark hair, soft eyes, tired smile. there’s a tenderness in his voice—even muffled—that suggests he’s used to wiping away tears and tying shoes with quick, practiced fingers.

your lips twitch into the faintest smile.

you’ve never met him, but he sounds like a good father.

the sound of running resumes. then a shriek—this time louder—and a muffled, exaggerated “nooo!” from the guy. something slams onto the floor (a pillow, hopefully) and one of the girls lets out the kind of giggle that makes your heart do a small, involuntary flip.

you close your eyes for a second.

but it’s too loud to nap.

so instead you drag yourself up from the couch with a groan, arms stretching over your head as you shuffle toward the bathroom. the floors are cool under your feet, and there’s a thin layer of tension still lingering in your spine, coiled from a long day and now from all the upstairs ruckus.

you twist the faucet. the pipes gurgle—reluctant—but warm water flows, steam already beginning to kiss the mirror. your fingers test the heat before pulling your shirt over your head.

they’re still moving around up there.

something thuds in the hallway above. a laugh chases after it, followed by the slam of a door. he yells something—“watch your toes!” maybe—and the girls erupt into more laughter.

you shake your head, lips curving despite yourself.

they seem… happy.

the steam curls around your bare shoulders like a fog rolling in over your thoughts. as you step into the water, the heat bites at your skin before settling into something comforting, melting the day off your muscles one inch at a time.

the ceiling creaks again. you close your eyes under the stream.

it’s fine, you tell yourself.

you don’t mind loud kids.

you don’t mind young dads.

you don’t mind apartment 512.

not yet, anyway.

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

the days begin to blur, and with them, the gentle hum of a life above you.

your alarm buzzes at 7:15 most mornings, but you’re always half-awake by then—stirred not by the sun, but by the thudding footsteps overhead. they’ve become your unofficial wake-up call. light, clumsy steps—too chaotic to be anything but children—racing back and forth like tiny storms brewing on hardwood.

some mornings it’s music. not loud, just low enough to be a background pulse. you don’t recognize the songs. one had soft piano keys. another had a beat you found yourself tapping your toothbrush to.

and always—always—his voice.

not constant, not invasive. just… there.

a thread between floorboards, weaving into your daily routine. you hear him call out to the girls like clockwork—“tie your shoes,” “where’s your backpack?” “no, we don’t eat gum we find in our pockets.” things like that.

you start to notice how patient he is. no raised voice. just this warm, even tone. a rare kind of softness. it seeps through your ceiling and wraps around you when you least expect it.

you still haven’t seen him.

not once.

not in the elevator, not in the stairwell, not in the mailroom. it’s strange. a whole family above you and not a single face to pair with the voices. it starts to feel almost ghostlike—like you’re living beneath a story that plays only in echoes and shadows.

you learn their schedule without meaning to.

8:00 a.m. – they leave.

6:15 p.m. – they return.

the ceiling groans softly when he walks across the living room. he’s heavier than the girls, obviously, but still quiet. thoughtful with his steps. you imagine socks instead of shoes. a mug in hand. maybe he’s the type to light candles in the evening.

sometimes, they watch movies. the muffled sound of animated voices filters through when the night’s especially still. one of the girls cries during sad scenes—you’ve heard it. soft sniffles, a hiccup, and then his voice, close and comforting. a lullaby in low tones.

you keep the volume on your TV lower now. you don’t want to interrupt.

friday nights are loud. there’s laughter, more music, the occasional crash of something toppling over followed by a dramatic “you okay?” and an immediate “i’m fine!!” that makes you grin into your wine glass.

saturday mornings are quieter. sometimes eerily so. you wonder if they sleep in. or maybe they go out for breakfast. your ceiling is silent until around noon, when one of the girls seems to burst into song. she’s always slightly off-key, but she belts it anyway, bold and free.

you’ve grown used to it.

used to the lives living above you.

it’s funny how they’re strangers, and yet you know the older girl hates brushing her hair. you know the younger one calls pancakes “panny-cakes” and once cried for ten full minutes because she dropped her favorite fork. you know one of them sneezes like a kitten, and the other laughs like she’s bouncing on a trampoline.

and him… you still don’t know his name.

but you know his voice.

his rhythm.

the calm he brings with him.

you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on it until one night—late, well past midnight—the apartment above you is quiet.

no footsteps. no hums. no soft voice telling someone to go brush their teeth.

just stillness.

and you lay there, staring at your ceiling, listening to nothing.

you hate how empty it feels.

you hate how much you notice.

it’s just past midnight when you hear it.

the creak of footsteps—small ones—darting across the ceiling like a mouse in socks. you blink at the ceiling through the dim blur of sleep, half-expecting the sounds to vanish. but instead, you hear a soft voice. a child’s.

“but i can’t sleep!”

your brows lift, and before you can register what you’re doing, you’re slipping out from under your sheets, feet brushing against the cool floor. you tug your hoodie over your head, not bothering with the zipper, and pad softly toward your balcony door.

the night is quiet. the air smells like the city trying to rest—concrete and moonlight and a hint of rain that never came. you slide the door open and step onto the small space, lit only by the halo of a streetlamp two buildings away.

and then you hear her again.

little feet scuffle just above you, the creak of the railing shifting slightly as weight leans against it. she must’ve snuck out onto her own balcony, one floor above.

you glance up and call softly, “can’t sleep either?”

a tiny gasp.

then: “who said that?”

you smile. lean forward just enough so your face can be seen from the balcony above.

“from below. i’m in 412.”

she peeks down, eyes wide and round, hair messy with sleep. the moonlight catches on her cheek as she peers at you like a curious cat.

“you live under us?”

you nod. “yup. i hear your little stampedes in the morning.”

a giggle. it tumbles out of her like wind through chimes. “that’s me and my sister. but she’s asleep. i’m mana mitsuya.”

“hi, mana,” you say, voice gentle. “i’m y/n.”

“y/n,” she repeats, like she’s testing the syllables for sweetness. “that’s pretty. do you always stay up this late?”

“only when the ceiling talks,” you tease, and she giggles again.

a short silence settles between you. she leans her chin on the railing, eyes still bright despite the hour.

“what do you do when you can’t sleep?” she asks.

you think about it. “sometimes i drink tea. sometimes i write. sometimes… i sing.”

her ears perk up. “what do you sing?”

you pause, then smile softly. “would you like to hear?”

mana nods furiously, already turning to run back inside. “wait right here! i’ll get my stuff!”

and she does—she really does. you hear her shuffling, hear drawers open and close, hear the enthusiastic thumps of her small feet. two minutes later she returns, arms full of soft things: a polka-dot blanket, two pillows, and an army of stuffed animals, including what looks like a slightly-worn rabbit and a pink unicorn with a lopsided horn.

she piles them up against the railing and flops down dramatically. “okay, i’m ready.”

you chuckle, resting your arms on the edge of your own balcony, looking up through the lavender shadows of the night.

and then you begin.

soft, slow.

“hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you castc this is la vie en rose…”

your voice floats upward, delicate as a ribbon caught in the breeze. mana goes still. even the breeze seems to hush for a while, like the whole building is listening. her eyes flutter halfway shut, a faint smile blooming across her cheeks.

“when you kiss me, heaven sighs and though i close my eyes, i see la vie en rose…”

you keep going. your voice is a lullaby. not perfect—slightly husky from sleep, warm from quiet—but it’s enough. the kind of voice meant for night songs and safe spaces. when you glance up near the end, mana’s head is tucked into her bunny, her blanket curled up to her chin, eyes heavy.

“give your heart and soul to me and life will always be, la vie en rose…”

the last note lingers like a whisper. and then—

“y/n?” mana mumbles sleepily.

“yeah?”

she snuggles deeper into her pillows. “you sing like a fairy.”

you smile, heart soft and full. “thanks, mana. now get some sleep, yeah?”

”‘kay…” she yawns. “goodnight… neighbor…”

the lights from above fade out, one by one. you stay out on the balcony a few moments longer, gazing at the stars you can barely see, listening to the quiet. and for the first time since moving in, you don’t feel so alone in the city.

not with mana takashi above you.

not with laughter in your ceiling.

not with the echo of la vie en rose hanging in the night air.

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

he finds her curled up like a misplaced dream—half under her blanket, face smushed into the crook of a unicorn plush.

mana.

asleep. on the balcony.

mitsuya blinks, squints against the sunlight bleeding through the sliding glass door, and slides it open with a sigh that’s more amused than anything else.

“mana?”

she stirs, nose scrunching up. one sock has fallen halfway off her foot, and there’s a trail of stuffed animals leading from the living room to where she now lies, as if she migrated in her sleep like some kind of tiny, determined hiker.

he crouches beside her, brushing a bit of hair from her forehead.

“mana, c’mon. you can’t sleep out here. it’s cold.”

her eyes open in slow blinks. she smiles lazily up at him.

“i was waiting for her…”

he raises an eyebrow. “her?”

“the fairy,” she mumbles like it’s obvious.

mitsuya blinks. “…fairy?”

mana nods sleepily, rolling onto her back and pointing downward. “from downstairs. she talked to me. she sang to me. last night.”

his first instinct is to chuckle—but he reins it in. not because he believes her, of course. but because she looks so sincere. wide-eyed, cheeks warm with the kind of belief that only kids can conjure.

“you made a new friend in your dreams, huh?”

“no! she was real!” mana sits up with sudden energy. her hair’s sticking up in every direction, her unicorn’s ear is in her mouth, and her face is full of morning indignation. “she lives below us. her name is y/n.”

mitsuya pauses.

the name does tug at something faint. familiar. maybe from a name on the mailboxes.

but—

“mana, sweetheart, if there was someone on their balcony last night, i would’ve seen them. you probably imagined it.”

mana frowns. crosses her arms. “did not.”

he stands and stretches, glancing down at the balcony below. empty.

no blankets. no girl.

just potted plants and windchimes.

“mana, no one’s out there.”

“she’s probably asleep,” mana tries.

“or maybe,” he says gently, “she’s not real.”

“she is!”

another voice cuts in.

“who’s not real?”

luna.

barefoot and frowning, her hoodie sleeves dragging over her hands as she steps onto the balcony with a sleepy pout. she eyes mana with suspicion.

“mana thinks she met a fairy.”

“i did!”

“fairies aren’t real, stupid.”

“don’t call me stupid!”

“you said a fairy sang to you like a lullaby CD. that’s not even—”

“her name is y/n and she lives right there!” mana jabs her finger at the balcony below. luna peeks over the railing. no one’s there. her expression shifts immediately into something victorious.

“see? empty. it was your weird baby dream.”

mana gasps like she’s been insulted on a personal, spiritual level. “take it back!”

“no.”

“you’re just mad she didn’t sing to you!”

“am not.”

“are too!”

mitsuya sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. the day hasn’t even started and they’re already two minutes into a heated sibling summit.

“girls.”

they both snap to look at him.

“go brush your teeth. put on socks. argue later. if you’re not ready in fifteen, i’m leaving without you.”

“you wouldn’t,” luna challenges, arms crossed.

mitsuya raises one brow.

mana gasps. “he would.”

“he would,” he says, walking back inside. “and i’ll buy chocolate milk for myself on the way back.”

a chorus of outraged footsteps follows behind him.

but just before he closes the balcony door, he looks down one more time.

empty.

still…

there’s something oddly specific about the name. y/n.

and… wasn’t that a soft humming he’d heard last night, just before drifting off?

his eyes linger a second longer.

then he shuts the door.

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

it’s exactly 8:03 p.m. when your keys slip into the lock and the weight of the day finally melts off your shoulders.

the sun’s nearly gone now—just a smear of tangerine and lavender on the edge of the skyline. you’ve got groceries in both hands, a slightly crumpled receipt in your pocket, and the hum of an old love song still lingering in your mind from the radio on the walk home.

you step inside, flick the lights on low, and toe your shoes off—

“FAIRY??!”

the scream nearly makes you drop the milk.

your eyes dart upward, heart skipping, but you already know exactly who it is. you don’t even have to look.

mana.

you set the bags down carefully, a little smile tugging at your lips as you walk toward the balcony and slide the door open.

she’s already there—peeking over the railing of 512, arms waving frantically, hair fluffed out in every direction like she hasn’t brushed it since morning.

“mana,” you call softly, stepping out into the golden light, “what’s wrong?”

she gasps in relief, like you’re a lost treasure she almost imagined. “don’t move! stay right there!”

you blink. “uh. okay?”

she disappears.

just like that. gone from view. a tiny stampede follows—footsteps and the screech of the balcony door above slamming shut.

you stand there in your hoodie, confused, the city humming below your feet.

then:

“luna!!! she’s real! come outside, hurry!!”

a new voice joins the chaos. quieter. a little more skeptical.

“wait, what is??”

more footsteps. then a second pair of eyes—bigger, rounder, more guarded—peek over the edge of the balcony. this one has neater hair, a hoodie with glittery stars, and a look like she’s halfway between wonder and disbelief.

mana is bouncing in place beside her.

“this is her!! this is my fairy!! she talks and she sings and her name is y/n and she’s real and you didn’t believe me but now you have to!”

luna stares at you like she’s analyzing a myth.

you give her a small wave. “hi. um. i’m y/n.”

mana gasps. “see?! she even says it the same way!!”

luna narrows her eyes slightly. “…you don’t have wings.”

“well,” you tease, “they’re invisible.”

mana lets out a delighted squeal. luna’s jaw drops slightly.

mana turns to her sister triumphantly. “told you.”

luna, clearly offended at being proven wrong, immediately redirects. “we have to show nii-chan.”

your head tilts. “older brother?”

mana nods so hard her unicorn hairclip falls sideways. “mhm! he’s the best big brother ever. he does our hair and makes pancake bears. he’s out right now but he’ll be home soon!”

luna crosses her arms. “not until ten. he’s at work.”

“so we need you to keep us busy.” mana says this like it’s a royal decree.

you blink.

“…busy?”

“until ten,” mana clarifies, very serious now. “you can do magic stuff or sing again or tell us about your fairy job—wait! are you on duty right now??”

your laughter bubbles up before you can stop it.

the wind picks up a little, tugging at your sleeves, as both girls lean over their railing like you’re a bedtime story in the flesh.

you glance back at your apartment—groceries still on the floor, lights soft and warm, kettle waiting.

then you look back up at them.

“alright,” you say, “but only if you let me bring snacks. fairies can’t work on an empty stomach.”

mana gasps like you just revealed a secret of the universe.

luna looks like she’s still not totally convinced—but she nods, one brow raised. “fine. but no raisins.”

“deal.”

they vanish again—another stampede across the ceiling—and you smile to yourself as you go back inside to grab something sweet and fairy-worthy.

you don’t know their older brother yet.

but if he’s anything like the little chaos he’s raising…

you think you’ll be meeting him very, very soon.

it’s 10:30 p.m. when the balcony lights flicker on upstairs.

you’re back inside, finishing the last of your tea, half-dozing on the couch with your window cracked open and the balcony door still ajar. the city hum is quieter now, distant sirens and wind brushing leaves across the sidewalk. you hear them before you see them—mana’s giggle, luna’s shushed warning, the faint clink of snack wrappers rustling in tiny hands.

then another sound.

a key in the door above.

the soft creak of tired footsteps.

a voice.

low. familiar somehow, even though you’ve never heard it directly before.

“mana? luna?”

no answer.

“what are you doing out here?”

the balcony door slides open upstairs.

“you’re still awake? it’s past bedtime.”

mana’s voice comes quick, excited. “nii-chan!! the fairy came back! she brought cookies and told us stories and—”

“mana.” his tone is firmer now, still calm but edged with parental exhaustion. “enough with the fairy thing. and snacks this late? seriously?”

you sit up, guilt blooming in your chest.

before you can stop yourself, you're back outside and you call out softly, “sorry—that’s my fault.”

a pause.

a long one.

above you, the balcony floor creaks.

“…what?” he says, blinking down through the rails like the moon just spoke.

you step outside slowly, hands tucked into your sleeves, looking up toward where his voice came from.

“i didn’t mean to keep them up. they caught me coming home and… well. i guess i got enchanted.”

another pause.

you hear mana whisper, “see?”

luna mutters, “told you.”

he sighs, the kind of sigh that says of course this is real, and then says out loud, more to himself than anyone:

“you’re the balcony fairy?”

you grin. “apparently.”

he finally leans over the edge—and there he is.

hair tousled from the wind, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, expression caught between suspicion and something else. softer. curiosity maybe. or disbelief.

his eyes meet yours and stay there a moment longer than you expect.

then he blinks, shakes himself out of it.

“girls,” he calls over his shoulder, “bath. now.”

groans. protests. giggles.

“no buts. or i’m canceling pancakes for breakfast.”

you hear them scramble away with a chorus of “okay okay okay!” and the slide of the glass door closing behind them.

the balcony falls quiet again.

he exhales.

leans his arms onto the railing.

“sorry about them,” he says eventually. “they’ve got wild imaginations.”

you smile. “don’t apologize. they’re wonderful. you’ve got a good team up there.”

he huffs out a small laugh, tired but warm. “team, huh?”

you nod. “captain mitsuya?”

his eyes squint like he’s trying not to laugh. “you know my last name?”

“mana introduced herself. full name, very official.”

he looks away briefly, like he’s hiding the way that makes something in his chest shift.

then looks back at you.

“and you’re… y/n?”

you nod.

the breeze picks up a little, brushing your hair behind your ear. his eyes follow the motion before flicking back up toward the stars. he’s quiet for a beat, then:

“you really sang her to sleep?”

you nod again. “she asked nicely.”

he exhales a laugh, almost disbelieving. “you’re kind. that’s rare around here.”

you shrug. “i just don’t like hearing little girls cry through my ceiling.”

that gets a real smile from him.

brief. crooked.

but real.

he nods slowly, eyes back on yours.

“well…” he says, voice dropping just a little, softer than before, “thanks for looking after them.”

you smile.

“anytime, captain.”

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

you’re still awake.

not out of restlessness—more like… reluctance. like your body hasn’t quite given the day permission to end.

your lights are off now, but the balcony door’s open again. the night air slips in through the screen, cool against your skin. the city’s fallen into that strange hush that only exists at 1 a.m.—no horns, no voices, just the occasional rustle of wind and the hum of faraway traffic.

your tea’s gone cold. your fingers rest loosely around the mug anyway, tucked against your chest as you sit curled on your little balcony, knees pulled up, cheek leaning against the chair back.

you almost don’t hear the soft click above you.

but then: the quiet squeak of old metal.

the upstairs balcony door.

your eyes flick up.

he steps out like someone who doesn’t expect to be seen—hoodie on again, hair damp, probably from a quick shower. you catch a glimpse of him rubbing at his neck with a towel, slow and tired, before he finally looks down.

his eyes widen slightly when they land on you.

you offer a small wave.

he hesitates—then lifts his hand in return.

neither of you speak right away.

you sip from your empty mug. he leans onto the railing, arms crossed. the silence stretches—not awkward, just… unspoken. shared. the kind that needs no explanation.

then:

“you’re still up.”

his voice is quieter now. softer than before.

you nod. “could say the same to you.”

he exhales through his nose. “i guess i’m on post-fairy-duty watch.”

you grin. “are you implying i’m a flight risk?”

“you showed up with cookies and vanished into the night. yeah. i’d say you’re suspicious.”

you laugh. it echoes faintly into the open air. his mouth twitches, but he doesn’t quite smile this time.

you tilt your head.

“what’s keeping you up?”

he looks down at his hands, fingers curling slightly against the railing.

“…just thinking.”

you wait. give him room.

eventually, he speaks again.

“they’ve been through a lot. mana and luna.”

your eyes soften. “they seem happy.”

he nods, almost absently. “they are. now. i just…” he sighs. “i want to keep it that way.”

you don’t ask for details. you don’t press.

instead, you say: “they’re lucky to have you.”

he looks down at you. really looks.

the weight of it is surprising—like he’s seeing you in full for the first time. not the blurry outline through balcony bars. not the voice in the dark.

you.

his mouth opens slightly. maybe to say thank you. maybe to disagree.

but instead, he says:

“you didn’t have to do all that.”

you glance down at your mug, smile faintly. “i know.”

a pause.

then—

“why did you?”

you let the silence fill up for a moment. let it settle into your chest.

then you lift your eyes back to him and say, simply,

“because i heard her say she couldn’t sleep.”

he watches you like he’s trying to memorize that.

and maybe he is.

you both fall quiet again.

the wind carries a small leaf across the edge of your railing. it trembles slightly before tumbling off.

he leans forward, resting his chin on his arms.

“you really sang her to sleep.”

you smile. “i told you.”

his lips finally curve—genuine now.

“would it be weird,” he asks, “if i asked you to sing me to sleep too?”

you laugh, surprised.

“yes.”

he shrugs. “figured.”

another beat.

then he says your name.

not as a question.

just… as if he wanted to feel the sound of it.

you meet his gaze. you feel it settle somewhere deep.

he straightens a little, rubs the back of his neck.

“maybe next time you come up, you won’t be a fairy,” he says.

“no?”

he smiles. slower this time.

“maybe just… a neighbor.”

you look up at him. let the night press in around you.

let the warmth in his voice linger.

“i think i could live with that.”

you don’t realize how late it’s gotten.

not until your voice catches mid-laugh and you glance down at your phone resting on the balcony table beside you—face-up, glowing faintly in the dark.

3:04 a.m.

you blink at it like it must be wrong.

but no, the sky above you is nearly ink-black now, the stars sharper, colder. the warmth in the air has softened, turned more into a hush than a blanket.

above you, he’s still there. arms crossed on the railing, hoodie loose on his frame, silver glinting faintly in one ear. his hair’s a little messy still from the towel, but he stopped caring about that around 2 a.m.—sometime between his second story about his sisters and the first real smile you gave him.

you lean your chin against your knee, curled up in your chair again.

“so… let me get this straight.” your voice is soft, almost drowsy. “you’re in a gang.”

he winces, but only slightly. “yeah. i am. not like… what you’re probably imagining. we’re more like a… well. kind of a family. sometimes dumb. sometimes violent. but loyal.”

you hum. “and this gang’s name is…”

“toman,” he says, watching your reaction.

you blink. “sounds like ramen.”

he laughs—soft, warm, unguarded. “not quite as comforting, but yeah. close.”

“is it like, leather jackets and switchblades?”

“try oversized uniforms, matching logos, too many haircuts that should be illegal.”

you snort into your sleeve. “do you still have to wear the uniform?”

“maybe.”

“and you design clothes ?”

he nods. “i’ve always loved it. sewing, especially. i used to make things for my sisters—costumes, blankets, little bags for their toys.”

your heart aches at the thought.

he shifts, his elbow resting against the edge of the railing. “i like creating something from nothing. it feels like magic. not the kind with wings,” he teases, “but close.”

you roll your eyes playfully. “fairy jokes? really?”

“you handed that one to me on a silver platter.”

you smile at him, eyes soft in the dim light. he holds your gaze for a little longer than before.

there’s something quiet about him. something that hums low—not shy, not hesitant. just… steady. like he listens closely to everything, even the things you don’t say.

“you’re not what i expected,” you say finally.

he tilts his head. “what did you expect?”

“the guy upstairs with the loud kids and the mystery voice? honestly, i thought you were some tired single dad trying to survive.”

he grins. “do i give off ‘divorced with two toddlers’ energy?”

you nod solemnly. “strongly.”

he lets out a soft groan. “i’m only sixteen. that’s brutal.”

“you’re sixteen?” you blink. “wait—me too.”

he raises a brow. “guess we’re in the same tax bracket and age bracket.”

you smirk. “careful, that sounds dangerously like bonding.”

he leans on his arms again, eyes sharp even in the dark.

“oh no,” he says quietly. “is the fairy getting attached?”

your cheeks warm.

you throw a pillow up toward his balcony. it flutters and drops back onto yours.

he laughs.

the silence that follows is thick with something different now—something golden and slow.

“you’re not what i expected either,” he murmurs.

you blink at him. “and what did you expect?”

he shrugs. “someone quiet. maybe nosy. maybe mean.”

“mean?”

“you heard mana through the ceiling and didn’t ignore her. you brought snacks. you stayed until she fell asleep. i figured you’d be tired. annoyed. normal people don’t do that.”

you tilt your head. “and what kind of people do?”

he looks at you like it’s obvious.

“fairies.”

your breath catches.

he watches the way your expression softens.

the city’s heartbeat slows around you. the wind dips. the stars blink lazily above the two of you.

“we should sleep,” you say, even though you don’t want to.

he nods. “we should.”

neither of you move.

“goodnight, y/n.”

your name sounds softer from him now. like it’s not just something he’s heard, but something he’s decided to remember.

“goodnight, mitsuya.”

his eyes flicker.

a heartbeat passes.

“you remembered?”

“i’m not a forgetful fairy.”

he smiles. wide. surprised.

“it’s takashi.”

you repeat his name. and then—

“sweet dreams, neighbor.”

you linger out there a few seconds after he disappears inside, hand resting on the cool railing, the echo of his voice wrapped around you like a blanket.

and this time, when you fall asleep…

you dream of balconies.

and boys with kind eyes.

and the quiet, golden glow of something new beginning.

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

you’re halfway through a quiet morning stretch when you hear it—

“pssst!! fairy!!”

you freeze, arms mid-air, sweater sleeves bunched at your elbows. slowly, you step out onto your balcony, the soft morning sun washing everything in amber.

mana is already there—perched at the edge of her own balcony, chin over the railing, cheeks puffed like she’s trying to hold in the most important news of the year.

“come up here!!” she whisper-yells. “we’re making breakfast! i saved you a seat!!”

you blink. “…does your brother know?”

“no!” she grins like that’s the best part.

“mana—”

“pleaseee! just sneak through the hallway! no one will know! you have to come!! mikey’s already trying to steal the syrup and luna said she’ll take your glass if you don’t show up in five minutes!”

you sigh. but your smile’s already giving you away.

“fine. but if i get arrested for balcony trespassing, it’s on you.”

“DEAL!!”

and just like that, you’re climbing the stairs in your oversized sweater and sleep-wrinkled shorts, heart thudding against your ribs like it’s more than just pancakes waiting for you at the top.

when you knock gently on the door of 512, it’s not mana who answers.

it’s a tall guy with a long blond braid and a face that says don’t waste my time, but not unkindly. there’s a dishtowel tossed over his shoulder and something cinnamon-sweet hanging in the air behind him.

he raises a brow. “…you lost?”

“um.” you glance past him into the apartment. “i was invited?”

before he can reply, a voice behind him calls out:

“is she looking for mitsuya?”

your gaze flicks over—this time to a much smaller blond boy, sitting cross-legged on the counter, sipping from a juice box like he lives there.

you open your mouth to answer—

“SHE’S HERE!!” comes a triumphant screech.

mana blasts into view like a firecracker, shoving the tall blond (who barely moves) out of the way and latching onto your hand. “hurry hurry hurry!! nii-chan’s already cooking and mikey’s eating your chair!!”

you blink. “…mikey?”

the smaller blond waves from the counter.

you don’t have time to process that.

you’re being dragged now—mana tugging you down the hall, past hanging fabrics, half-folded laundry, the hum of morning chatter—and straight into the dining room.

and then—

you see him.

mitsuya’s mid-sentence, standing at the end of the table with a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other, turning to say something just as mana barrels in behind you like a herald of chaos.

“FAIRY’S HERE!!”

he turns.

freezes.

chokes.

literally.

“oh my god,” you mutter, stepping forward, “are you okay?”

he coughs once, hard, sets the plate down like he forgot how his hands work. his eyes are wide, like you’re a ghost—or worse, a crush in real-time.

his gaze drags over you: soft sleepwear, messy hair, bare legs, pink-tinted cheeks from the climb. you raise a hand in a small wave.

“hi.”

mana beams. “she came through the balcony!”

mitsuya turns slowly toward her, voice flat. “…you invited her through the balcony.”

“she said yes!”

he drags a hand down his face.

you try not to laugh. “should i go?”

“no!” mana shouts. “sit next to nii-chan! it’s the only seat left!”

you glance at him. he’s still pink in the ears. still not speaking.

you slide into the empty chair beside him.

he finally exhales. then, under his breath:

“did she really invite you?”

you raise a brow. “you already know the answer.”

he groans softly into his hands.

across the table, mikey’s sipping your milk. luna’s glaring at him. the tall blond appears again with another stack of pancakes and mutters, “this house isn’t real.”

you nudge mitsuya gently.

“takashi. you blushed again.”

“shut up.”

but when he slides your plate over, your fingers brush again—

and this time,

he doesn’t pull away.

mana’s already halfway through her first pancake by the time you finish unfolding your napkin.

the table is packed — stacked plates, small mismatched bowls of fruit, a lonely bottle of strawberry milk that everyone seems to be keeping tabs on, and at least three different conversations happening at once. you barely adjust into your seat before mikey reaches over and steals your fork.

“you don’t need this, right?” he says with the blankest expression on earth.

you blink at him. “i—literally, yes?”

“too late.” he starts cutting into your pancake.

you look at mitsuya like is this allowed, and he just sighs and grabs another fork from the drawer without a word. his hand brushes yours again as he sets it down, and you think: maybe that was on purpose.

mana’s chewing loud enough to shake the table. luna is frowning into her cup like someone gave her skim milk on purpose.

the tall blond — draken, you think someone called him — is making eggs in a pan and threatening to turn the stove off if mikey doesn’t sit like a human being.

mikey is now lying down across three chairs.

and mitsuya — beside you, close enough that your elbows keep brushing — is the only one not actively complaining. or eating.

he’s watching.

he doesn’t realize you’ve noticed, but his eyes flick to you again and again, always fast, always like he’s trying not to.

you take a small bite of pancake and whisper under your breath, “are you okay?”

he blinks. “…me?”

you nod, hiding your smile behind your fork.

he clears his throat. “fine. totally fine.”

you nudge his leg under the table. “you look like you’re in shock.”

“i’m just…” he glances at you, blush returning in full force. “…not used to this.”

“what, breakfast?”

“no. you.”

you blink at him.

and it’s quiet. just for a second.

the rest of the room blurs out, all sharp edges and background noise. you stare at him, startled by the softness in his voice.

but before either of you can say anything else, mana is climbing onto her chair.

“nii-chan, can fairies live here? like in real life?”

he coughs, looking back down at his plate.

“i think they have… apartment leases like the rest of us.”

“what’s a lease?”

“it’s when the fairy agrees to never leave.” mikey mutters, still chewing.

draken side-eyes him. “are you high on syrup right now?”

mana gasps. “so y/n’s gonna stay forever! because she said she likes us!”

you glance at mitsuya — and he’s staring at his plate like it personally offended him.

“mana,” he says gently, “you can’t trap people with pancakes.”

she folds her arms. “then why’d she stay?”

you lean forward, smiling. “because mana invited me.”

mana throws her arms up in victory.

luna quietly slides the strawberry milk toward you, as if conceding your place at the table. you take it with a small nod. she nods back, seriously.

mitsuya watches the exchange, quietly amused. and then, in a voice only you can hear:

“you really meant it, huh?”

you look at him. “what?”

he doesn’t look away this time.

“you didn’t have to say yes to her. but you did.”

you shrug, slow and honest. “i wanted to.”

he smiles at that — a real one, the kind that melts the stiffness out of his shoulders.

and then mana, somehow holding a fork in each hand, says:

“you should come for dinner too.”

you open your mouth to respond, but mitsuya speaks first:

“mana.”

“what?”

“stop inviting her to everything.”

“she’s our fairy.”

you meet his eyes. they’re full of quiet laughter and a question he’s not brave enough to ask yet.

you answer it anyway, softly:

“i’d like that.”

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

you’re sipping the last of your milk when it happens.

the table has calmed, mostly. luna is peeling the stickers off her orange juice box. mana is drawing something (possibly you, possibly a magical pancake god) on the back of a napkin. draken is finishing his third cup of coffee and quietly regretting waking up today.

mitsuya, finally, is starting to look like he might survive this morning without spontaneously combusting.

until—

“so, when are you two gonna kiss?”

you choke.

literally.

a cough breaks from your throat mid-sip, and you cover your mouth with your sleeve while mitsuya goes rigid beside you like someone just poured ice water down his back.

you whip your head around.

mikey is still sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, face deadpan.

“what?” he says through a mouthful of rice. “you’re both being gross. just get it over with.”

draken doesn’t even look up. “mikey, shut up.”

“what?”

“you’re being annoying.”

“i’m just pointing out the vibe!” mikey turns to you, completely unfazed. “right? you feel it too, don’t you?”

mitsuya stands.

very quickly.

his chair scrapes back. his face is bright red.

“i’m walking her back,” he says, like it’s an emergency. “mana, stop putting syrup on the table. mikey, don’t touch my stove. draken—actually, you’re fine. y/n, let’s go.”

your eyes are wide, your face still warm. you glance around the room, offer a soft wave, and follow him down the hallway like a very stunned, very amused guest being escorted out of a sitcom.

mana yells behind you: “don’t forget dinner!!!”

“i’ll remember!” you shout back.

the front door closes behind you.

the apartment quiets in its absence.

the walk to your floor is short, but quiet.

not in a bad way.

mitsuya’s hands are in the front pocket of his hoodie, his hair still a little messy from earlier, his gaze fixed ahead.

you glance up at him as you reach your door.

he exhales slowly. then looks at you.

“…sorry about that.”

you grin. “you’re not denying it though.”

his eyes flicker—just a little.

“you’re not either.”

you lean against your doorframe, arms folded. “hm. i guess i’m not.”

he bites down a smile. barely.

“…mana wasn’t supposed to invite you, you know.”

“but you’re not mad.”

“i didn’t say that.”

you tilt your head. “are you?”

his voice is quiet.

“no.”

he leans a little closer, just enough to feel the weight of it settle between you—something softer, something new.

“i’m glad you came,” he says.

you blink. the warmth from earlier rushes back in.

“i am too.”

he steps back then, only slightly.

“enjoy the rest of your day, y/n.”

you smile at the sound of your name in his voice. “you too, takashi”

he turns, takes one step, and then—

“hey.”

you look up.

he’s facing you again, one foot still on the stair.

“don’t forget,” he says, a little quieter now. “you’re invited to dinner.”

your smile spreads, real and wide.

“i won’t.”

and when he disappears up the stairwell again—quiet hoodie, soft steps, silver earring catching the light—you realize your heart’s still beating a little too fast for this to be nothing.

this is definitely something.

𐔌՞꜆. ̫.꜀՞𐦯

“mana! luna! i swear—if you answer the door in pajamas, i’m canceling dinner.”

the sound of mitsuya’s voice echoes through the apartment, sharp and commanding in a way that says he’s said it at least twice already.

you hear a thud. possibly a slipper being thrown. then luna’s voice, deadpan:

“it’s not a date, nii-chan.”

a beat.

mana’s louder: “unless he wants it to beee—”

“MANA.”

you press your knuckles to your mouth to keep from laughing as you stand outside the door, your hand still lifted from knocking.

you’d arrived right on time — hair brushed, sweater tucked into your nicest jeans, a tiny bit of gloss on your lips that you’re already starting to regret — only to walk straight into the middle of domestic chaos.

bang.

a door slams down the hall.

“you said this shirt was cool!”

“it is cool!!”

“you said that last time and then you made me change—”

mitsuya’s voice cuts back in, sharper now: “five seconds, or i’m eating without you!”

you grin.

then knock, three times, soft but firm.

immediate silence.

a second later, the door swings open.

and there he is.

mitsuya, in a deep navy long-sleeve pushed up to the elbows, faint wrinkles still on the front like he pulled it out of the dryer five minutes ago. his hair’s freshly combed, earrings in. he looks calm.

until he sees you.

and then his mouth opens just slightly, like he forgot what he was about to say.

“…hey.”

his voice is quieter this time. like he used up all the shouting on the kids and now you’ve reset the volume.

you smile. “hey.”

his eyes scan you quickly — not in a way that feels invasive, but like he’s taking inventory of everything. your soft perfume. the little ring on your hand. the gloss on your lip you knew you should’ve wiped off.

“…you look nice.” he steps aside, ears already pink. “come in.”

you brush past him and glance toward the kitchen where the smell of curry hangs warm in the air. from deeper in the apartment, you hear scrambling feet and whispered chaos.

“was that a threat about pajamas?” you murmur.

he shuts the door behind you. “you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“i heard all of it.”

“god.”

you try not to laugh as you step out of your shoes. he leads you toward the dining room again, but something feels different this time — like the table’s been set on purpose. placemats. napkins. little cups of fruit with tiny spoons.

and there’s an empty seat beside his.

again.

you turn to him. “this seems familiar.”

he runs a hand through his hair. “they assigned you that one.”

“mhmm.”

“not my fault.”

“sure.”

before he can defend himself, mana explodes into the room wearing a pink dress with one mismatched sock and a sparkly headband that’s definitely from a halloween costume.

“YOU’RE HERE!”

she launches at you. again. you catch her mid-hug.

“you said six!” she yells. “you’re on time! you’re so cool!”

luna appears behind her, more subdued in a sweater and leggings, arms folded. she gives you a small, silent nod.

“hi, luna.”

“hi.”

you turn to mitsuya. “do i pass the dress code?”

he’s watching you with something unreadable on his face. soft, a little caught.

“you more than pass.”

mana tugs you to your seat, practically vibrating.

“she sits here! i told you! i told you she’d come back!”

mitsuya’s voice is low, but full of something warm.

“i didn’t doubt it.”

and as you settle in, the laughter of his sisters bouncing around the room, the clinking of plates and the soft shuffle of slippers over hardwood — you realize:

this feels nothing like a first dinner.

this feels like home you didn’t know you’d been missing.

the table’s become a little louder than earlier.

not that it’s a bad thing.

mana’s halfway through a story that you can’t quite follow, luna’s gently correcting her every few sentences, and mitsuya’s trying to pass a bowl of rice across the table without knocking over the fruit cups.

it’s warm.

not just the food — which is incredible, by the way. the curry’s perfect. comforting. made with care. and the soft little bowl of pickled veggies he sets beside you like an afterthought?

deliberate.

everything feels like that.

deliberate.

the folded napkins. the fact that there’s a tiny pink plate for mana and a slightly bigger one for luna and matching ones for you and mitsuya. the second spoon already laid beside your bowl, just in case you needed it.

the seat next to his.

luna reaches over and plucks a carrot slice from your plate without asking. mana gasps like she’s committed treason.

“luna! you can’t steal from the fairy!”

you grin. “it’s okay. i’ll get her back later.”

mitsuya hides a smile behind his chopsticks. “you shouldn’t have said that.”

“why?”

“they take revenge very seriously.”

luna, deadpan: “i have a list.”

mana, immediately: “add this to it.”

she dumps three tiny red pickled radishes onto luna’s plate. luna glares at her like a war crime has been committed.

mitsuya sighs. “don’t start.”

you’re laughing into your bowl when you feel it.

his knee.

barely brushing yours beneath the table.

at first you think it’s an accident — but it doesn’t move. it stays there, warm and solid, just enough contact to send a ripple up your spine.

you glance at him.

he’s not looking at you.

his face is calm, like he’s focused on refilling his sisters’ bowls.

but his ear is pink.

you nudge your knee back, just slightly.

he pauses. then presses back.

you don’t even realize you’re smiling.

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a few minutes later, mikey drifts into the room like a cat with no sense of timing.

“yo. is there food left?”

mitsuya doesn’t even flinch. “if you touch that pot, i’ll break your hands.”

“sharing is caring.”

“go away.”

mikey leans over your chair. “fairy, back me up.”

you blink. “you weren’t even invited.”

“ouch.”

mana giggles so hard she drops her spoon. luna kicks mikey in the shin. draken appears out of nowhere to drag him out again like this is a nightly routine.

as soon as the door swings closed, mitsuya mutters:

“god. finally.”

you turn to him.

he looks relaxed now. or maybe just resigned.

his hand moves under the table — brushing yours this time.

this time, you let him.

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somewhere between the second helping of rice and mana asking you if fairies eat dessert, mitsuya leans in, just enough for only you to hear.

“thanks for staying.”

you turn to him, fork still in your hand. “you say that like i’d rather be anywhere else.”

he looks at you for a second longer than he probably should.

“i’m hoping that’s true.”

and the way your stomach flips?

yeah.

that’s not just the curry.

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the apartment feels quieter now.

not empty — just… softened.

the plates are drying on the rack, the stovetop is wiped clean, and mana’s soft little snores are echoing faintly down the hallway. luna’s door shut with a soft click not long after. and now, it’s just the two of you.

still at the table. still side by side.

but the room feels different without the noise.

mitsuya glances toward the hallway one last time — checking, confirming. then pushes his chair back with that familiar, effortless calm.

“stay there.”

you blink. “what—”

but he’s already moving — crossing into the kitchen, bending to the lower cabinet beneath the sink like he’s unlocking a vault.

you watch him curiously.

and then:

a bottle.

dark. slender. clearly unopened.

he turns around with it in hand, an eyebrow slightly raised.

“…wine?”

you blink. “what?”

he lifts it slightly. “red. not the sweet kind. decent year.”

you pause.

then smile. “are you allowed to offer that to your upstairs fairy?”

“only after dinner.”

he pours carefully — two mismatched glasses that don’t belong together, but somehow make sense here. he walks one back to you and sets it down before taking his seat again, this time just a little closer than earlier.

you pick it up, eyes flicking to him over the rim.

“how’d you even get this?”

he takes a sip first, lips brushing the glass, and shrugs.

“i have my ways.”

“is that a gang thing?”

he chokes.

just slightly.

then laughs — actually laughs, low and caught off guard, hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“jesus, y/n.”

you sip. it’s warm and dry and stronger than you expected.

you shrug. “i’m just saying. i have seen you boss people around with a dishtowel in one hand and a spoon in the other.”

“that’s not a gang thing.”

“you sure?”

he leans back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass like he’s trying not to grin.

“…maybe it’s both.”

your knee brushes his again. neither of you move this time.

the silence that follows is different. softer. less like you’re filling space and more like you’re both just… in it.

“do you always do this?” you ask, voice quiet. “cook dinner, herd kids, hand out wine?”

he hums, takes another sip. “not always with wine. but yeah. this is kind of it.”

“the grown-up life?”

he glances at you.

his gaze lingers.

“only parts of it.”

you set your glass down slowly. “what parts are you missing?”

he leans forward a little. not enough to crowd you. just enough to let you feel it.

“the quiet parts.”

“this seems pretty quiet.”

he nods. “it is. but it’s better with company.”

your heart does a funny little twist at that.

you tilt your head. “is this your way of saying you’re glad i stayed?”

he doesn’t look away.

“i thought that was obvious.”

and you don’t answer — not out loud.

just reach for your glass again, sip slow, and hold his gaze like a secret shared.

the wine warms your chest.

his voice warms the rest.

the second glass of wine was warm.

the third? a little dangerous.

not in a dizzy way. not even in a tipsy way. just enough to make you looser. softer. a little more brave.

the apartment’s quiet now — really quiet. the clock’s ticking. the laundry machine somewhere down the hall gives a distant sigh. the dim kitchen light flickers slightly above you both, golden and soft, casting long shadows against the tiled walls and the curve of his jaw.

your feet are curled beneath you on the bench, and mitsuya is still beside you — knee pressed to yours, body turned in your direction, wine glass now mostly forgotten on the table behind him.

you’re laughing — about something dumb. a story he told from when he was fifteen and ended up sewing himself into his jacket sleeve. his grin is wide, toothy, rare. he’s loose in a way you haven’t seen before.

but then the laughter slows.

not because it fades — but because something else grows in its place.

a pause.

a breath.

his voice, quieter now:

“you do that a lot.”

you blink, still smiling. “do what?”

“look at me like that.”

“…how am i looking at you?”

he doesn’t answer.

but his eyes drop to your mouth.

your breath catches — because suddenly he’s closer. inches. centimeters. your noses almost brush. his hand is braced behind you on the bench, caging you in without trapping you. your shoulder brushes his chest every time you inhale, and you can feel his breath — warm, soft, and shallow — when he says:

“like i’m something you’re trying not to want.”

you don’t deny it.

your fingers curl gently into the fabric of his sleeve. your lips part — just slightly. barely.

his hand slides up to your cheek, knuckles soft, calloused fingertips grazing the curve of your jaw. his eyes search yours like a question. like he’s asking for a yes without needing to hear it.

and you give it to him.

not in words.

just in the way you lean in.

his lips find yours like a promise delayed — slow at first, then not slow at all. the kiss deepens quickly, hands finding hips, fingers sliding over fabric. your hands move to his shoulders, then the back of his neck, tugging him in with an urgency you didn’t know you were holding back.

he breathes your name against your lips like a confession, and it hits you somewhere you can’t place.

his hands move lower — grip firmer — and in a single fluid motion, you’re lifted, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he sets you down on the nearest countertop with a soft thud. the marble is cool beneath you, but his body is warm and close, pressing into the cradle of your knees, hands firm against your lower back as his mouth meets yours again, deeper, slower this time. like he’s trying to memorize you.

it’s quiet.

your breathing is loud.

the silence wraps around you both like a blanket pulled tight — the kind of heat and hush that only happens when the world slips away and it’s just you and him and the impossibly small distance between.

until—

a creeaak.

a door. somewhere down the hall.

you both freeze.

you don’t move — just slowly turn your heads toward the sound of socked feet padding across the hardwood.

mana.

rubbing her eyes, messy hair haloed around her face, her tiny silhouette wobbling past the kitchen like a sleepy ghost.

“fairy…” she mumbles, eyes half-closed. “i know she’s still here…”

she shuffles past the kitchen entrance.

mitsuya’s arms are still around you, your hands still tangled in his shirt. you both hold your breath.

mana disappears into the bathroom.

the door shuts.

silence again.

you glance at him. he’s already looking at you.

and then—

you both burst into quiet laughter. muffled giggles spill into the space between your chests, your foreheads knocking softly together as you try to stay quiet and fail miserably.

you lean back just enough to see his face.

he’s grinning.

rosy. breathless. soft in the eyes.

and then, in a voice low and warm and so full of meaning it almost feels unfair, he says:

“you should come over for dinner more often.”

you smile.

“i just might.”

💬, help this song has been stuck in my head so i just couldnt help but to make a fanfiction based on it 😝 AND OBVIOUSLY ABOUT MITSUYA YUMMY BOY, ANYWAY ENJOYYYYY (lwk might keep doing this)

ko-fi 🎧

look here for your next read 📚!

permanent 🔖 : @sukunasrealgf @sinamew

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