#rev velvet

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⠀⠀ᛝ⠀ 𓈒⠀⠀⠀˙⠀⠀⠀⠀｡i know u ain’t a drug,

𓈒⠀⠀⠀˙⠀　ㅤ۫ㅤㅤ ̣̣ㅤㅤ﹐ but u get me so high!﹑ ಿৎ

　 ℘　　𓏏𓏏⠀　　໒ @i-mmaculatus՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱｡　　　𓏴

[daisynik7]

Reap What You Sew

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~5.5k

cw: explicit language, switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person), established relationship, kissing, suggestive, angst, fluff

Summary: A dinner with you, Mitsuya, and your parents quickly goes south. Mitsuya makes a decision that could lead to dire consequences. 

Author's Note: Hello everyone, thank you for your patience with this! Heads up, this story is going to reach a pretty dramatic turning point in the next chapter, so be prepared! And with that ominous warning, enjoy lol. Thank you for reading!

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Mitsuya spends the remainder of their date giving his girlfriend a crash-course in the history of the Tokyo Manji Gang, skipping through the boring, less significant details and emphasizing what she absolutely must know. The most important takeaway is that Tetta Kisaki and Shuji Hanma are not to be trusted at all costs.

Since the encounter, the two left the arcade promptly, Mitsuya glaring at the sketchy captains on the way out, who matched his expression with equal vigor. He made sure they weren’t followed to the station and boarded the train, returning to the park where they had previously spent the most amazing day together. He regrets forcing them to the arcade in the first place, wishing they had stayed laying in the grass, blissful in their own little world, away from any potential danger. How could he be so arrogant to think he could keep these two major parts of his life separate? How could he be so careless to let Hana become involved in this?

Sitting on a park bench, she listens, barely interrupting, nodding along to indicate her understanding. She’s now aware of all the players involved, of who she should avoid and who she can trust, including all of Mitsuya’s closest friends. At one point, she asks, “What about Mikey?”

If this was three years ago, at the height of Toman’s regime, Mitsuya would have a confident answer. However, the founder’s current favoritism towards the new captains leaves many open-ended questions for those who’s been loyal to him from the start. Deep down in his heart, however, Mitsuya still believes in Mikey. He chooses his words carefully. “They’re trying to manipulate him, but we’re going to bring him back. We have to get him back.”

Eventually, he suggests befriending Emma Sano and Hinata Tachibana to learn the ins-and-outs of being a girlfriend of a Toman boyfriend. They’ve both managed to succeed in it without harm, for the most part. Maybe the reason for that is because their boyfriends have both put the gang on the backburner to focus on their personal lives, Draken preparing to be a father and Takemitchy preparing for university. Mitsuya even has his own plans for after high school, but he always figured he would be able to balance his responsibilities all at once. Now that he’s a proper boyfriend, can he add that into his already teetering workload without sacrificing what he already has? Or without one collapsing on top of the other?

Mentally drained from explaining as much as he can, there’s a prolonged silence between them as she lets all the information sink in. After what seems like an eternity, she speaks, a slight waver in her voice, though resilient. “Takashi, it’s going to be okay.”

His brows are tight with worry, holding her hand with a firm grip. “How are you so sure? What if they try to hurt you?” 

She smiles at him. “Because I’m with you. I’ll always be safe when I’m with you.”

He’s scared, absolutely terrified. But her confidence in him moves him to tears. He blinks them away, grinning at her with as much confidence as he can muster. “I’ll keep you safe, Hana. I promise you.”

This is one promise he swears to himself he won’t break. 

~~~

A week after your date, your parents put the pieces together and ask you straight up. “Are you and Mitsuya dating?” It’s your mother who poses the question, your father still as uncomfortable with the subject as he was the morning you announced that you were hanging out with a boy.

The three of you are eating dinner, about finished with the meal on your plate. You almost choke on the last bite, surprised by her very correct accusation. Clearing your throat, you answer honestly. “Yes.”

Your dad makes a strangled nose in his throat, clearly shocked. Maybe he was hoping with all his might that the answer would be no, or that you’d lie about it. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Your mother isn’t quite as keen on playing dumb. She’s noticed the change in your demeanor, the pep in your step, the sound of your hushed voice through the thin walls, speaking to Takashi well into the night on the phone. She doesn’t miss these things. A mother’s intuition never fails. She studies you carefully, almost challenging. “We should invite him over for dinner.”

You know better than to argue with her, so you agree. The next time his mom isn’t working a night shift, that’s when he’ll come for dinner. It’s been decided. 

It’s a Wednesday night when he arrives to your house, dressed in a lavender buttoned-up shirt and black slacks, a colorful bouquet of spring flowers in his hands, smiling wide when you open the door to greet him. His hair is swept back more than usual, gelled and parted to the side, his effort to make a good impression evident. You want to give him a kiss, giddy at his appearance, though you decide against any form of physical affection throughout the night, assuming it wouldn’t be a good look in front of your parents.

He removes his shoes, laying them next to yours on the rack, giving you a sly wink before walking with you into the kitchen, where your parents are putting the finishing touches on their homemade dinner. “Mitsuya, good evening. Thank you for coming,” you mother says, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. She nudges your father, who’s surly near the stove, arms crossed over his chest. He sniffs, avoiding his gaze while he mutters, “Yes, hello.”

Takashi bows, holding out the bouquet when he stands up straight. “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Shimizu. Mr. Shimizu. It’s an honor to be here with you tonight to share this wonderful meal. I brought these flowers for you.”

Your mom accepts them, smiling politely. “These are lovely. Thank you. I’ve got the perfect place for them. Honey, go ahead and show your boyfriend to the table. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Your father makes a noise, somewhere between a disgruntled huff and an incredulous laugh. You’re unsure how he feels about this whole situation and you pray that he doesn’t grill Takashi too hard tonight. You’re confident in your boyfriend that he will be his authentic, good-natured self and that your parents will learn to like him just as much as you do. You take your seat at the table, Takashi right beside you. Under the surface, hidden from view, he reaches for your hand, squeezing you gently until your parents join you. Your mother sets the flowers in a vase at the center, adding a splash of color to the setting. 

Tonight’s dinner is glazed miso salmon with white rice and steamed vegetables. Takashi admires the meal with sparkling eyes. “This is incredible, Mrs. Shimizu!”

She waves him off. “Oh, this is nothing, dear.”

“It’s definitely something,” he beams, picking up his chopsticks to dig in. “My mom can’t even make rice without burning it.”

She giggles. “So who does the cooking at home, then?”

“Me. I only know how to make the basics for me and my sisters. Hana here has significantly improved our instant ramen by adding fresh ingredients, which is genius. My sisters love her recipe,” he brags, glancing at you. 

“That’s nice to hear. Anyways, help yourself.”

Altogether, you clap your hands. “Thank you for the food!”

There’s a moment of silence while the four of you begin eating, only the tap of utensils on ceramic plates to occupy the silence. Takashi takes a of bite, commenting, “It’s delicious, Mrs. Shimizu.”

“Oh good. If you’d like, I can give you the recipe. Something new for you and your sisters to try at your house,” she offers. 

“I’d love that. Thank you.”

Your father suddenly speaks, startling the rest of you. “So, Mitsuya. That bike of yours. Do you have a license to drive that thing?”

You clench your jaw, nervous about the interrogation that’s about to occur between your father and your boyfriend. Takashi wipes his mouth with a napkin, clearing his throat, giving him his full attention. “Yes, sir. I’ve had my license since I was sixteen.”

Your father raises a brow at him, elbows propped on the surface, hands in prayer, tapping his fingertips to his chin. “Do you enjoy riding it? Seems dangerous if you ask me.”

You almost mutter, Nobody asked you, but you resist the temptation, stuffing your mouth with fish to prevent yourself from blurting anything out. Takashi seems to be handling well, explaining, “I only go the speed limit, sir. And I wear a helmet every time I ride, so it’s pretty safe.”

“And you’ve driven Hana on your motorbike several times already, haven’t you?” His brows are tight, scrutinizing and intimidating. 

“Yes, I have. She has her own helmet and I’m very cautious when she’s with me. Her safety is my top priority. It always will be.”

Your father hums, and you hope you’ve gotten past the worst of it, not expecting him to bring out the big guns. However, you soon find out that it’s far from over. “Are you in one of those biker gangs?”

“Dad!” you cry out, cheeks hot.

Even your mom interjects. “Honey!”

He doesn’t waver, waiting for Takashi’s answer. “Well?”

The smile on your boyfriend’s face drops, his expression more serious when he replies, “Yes, sir. I’m in the Tokyo Manji Gang.” He stutters a bit while adding, “I was one of the founding members.”

As if he cracked the code, your father nods, smirking in a wicked manner. “I’ve heard about them. I noticed your jacket a few times whenever you dropped my daughter off. Don’t think I didn’t do my research on you. I’m aware of your little gang, all the havoc you’ve caused throughout the years.” Your mom calls him by his first name, urging him to stop. He doesn’t relent. 

“I understand your concerns, sir. I won’t deny that I’ve been involved with violence in the past. But I’ve changed a lot since then. I don’t like fighting, I never have. I want a life outside of the gang, and I think I’m on my way there.”

“Oh? How so?” 

“Well, I want to be a fashion designer. I’m quite handy when it comes to sewing.”

“Are you planning on going to a university?”

“Vocational school. After graduation, I’ll be taking a year off to work at a local tailor to save some money for tuition. I’m applying to a school nearby, so that I can be here for my family. And for Hana.” He glances at you, smiling. You reach for him, holding his hand. 

Your father leans forward on the table, intrigued. “So, you’re aware that Hana is attending a university here in Tokyo.”

“Yes, I am, sir. And I know she’s going to study to be a teacher.”

“Yes, that’s right. That means she cannot afford any distractions from her studies.” 

Takashi places his palm over his chest. “I’ll make sure nothing gets in her way of that.” 

“You misunderstand. Boyfriends are a distraction.”

This time, you do interrupt. “Dad, Takashi hasn’t been a distraction for me so far, and he will never be a distraction. He helps me, he supports me. I’m happier because of him.” 

His voice is stern as he bangs a fist on a table, frustrated. “This boy is trouble. It doesn’t matter what he does in his spare time. Sewing, babysitting, I don’t care. At the end of the day, he’s a gang member. A delinquent. A punk.”

Tears well in your eyes, skin prickling with anger. Takashi gazes at his lap, at a loss for words. “How can you be so prejudiced?” you argue. “You don’t even know Takashi, yet you’re judging him. He’s been nothing but kind and sweet to me. It doesn’t matter to me that he’s in a gang, he’s important to me, and I won’t let you belittle him like this!” 

He stands up, throwing his napkin on the table, pointing his finger at you. “You are naïve, Hana! Disillusioned by this silly little fantasy of yours. I won’t let you ruin your life for someone like him. I just won’t!”

You’re on your feet, matching his expression. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Hana.” Takashi’s voice is quiet, the slightest tremble in it. He tugs on your wrist, urging you to calm down. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” you whine, cheeks wet with your tears. 

Takashi stands with you, taking a deep breath, directing his words towards your father. “You’re right. I am a gang member, a delinquent, a punk. It’s all true. There was a time that I would risk life and limb for the gang. I almost did after getting my skull fractured by a metal pipe in a fight. My mother and sisters were terrified, thinking they lost me.”

He swallows hard, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “And now with Hana in my life, I’m surer than ever what I need to do. I’m going to leave Toman. For good.”

~~~

It’s Friday night and Mitsuya sits in Draken’s kitchen, a devoured bowl of his friend’s homemade curry in front of him. Emma and Hana are inside the guest bedroom, which is slowly transforming into a nursery. He can hear his girlfriend’s sweet laughter at Emma’s weekly work drama while they assemble a crib that the expecting couple recently purchased. They had met no more than two hours ago, though it seems like they’ve already become fast friends. 

Mitsuya finishes recounting the drama from over a week ago. Draken stands up on the other side of the table, collecting the dirty dishes and carrying them to the sink. “So, what did the old man say after that?”

“Nothing. He ate the rest of the meal in silence. Her mom started rambling about some other stuff to lighten the mood and that was it.” He checks behind him on the two ladies, making sure they can’t hear him. In a hushed voice, he adds, “Hana hasn’t really spoken to him much since then. She said it’ll fizzle out eventually.” 

“Ah, I see.” Draken lets the water run, soaking the bowls. “Do you really mean it?”

“What?”

“Leaving Toman.”

There’s a heavy pause while he thoroughly contemplates his response. “Yeah, I do.”

At the time he announced it, his entire body was buzzing with emotion. It slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he was actually saying. As the days passed, the more confidence he has gained about his decision. All the dreams he has for his future no longer revolve around Toman. And while he wants to remain loyal to his friends, his brothers, he figures he can do that without being involved in the gang anymore. He’s long grown tired of the unnecessary violence and drama.

“Wow,” Draken responds, whistling through his teeth. “Good for you, Taka.”

“How about you?” Mitsuya gets up, leaning against the counter, watching his friend. “Do you ever think about leaving?”

Draken focuses on scrubbing the dishes with a sponge. “Of course I do. But I can’t do that to Mikey.”

“Am I a bad friend?”

Draken stops the faucet, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel, turning to face him. He places a hand on his shoulder. “Not one bit. You should be happy. If this is something you have to do, then do it. You’ll always have our support. Me, Emma, and little Ken Junior.”

It takes a beat to realize his last words. “Wait, Ken Junior?”

Draken beams at him. “Yeah. We’re having a boy.”

They hug, Mitsuya patting Draken’s back extra hard, so excited that his cheeks hurt from smiling, tears welling in his eyes. “Fucking Ken Junior, holy shit.”

Draken sniffles, squeezing him in a tight embrace. “KJ, for short. Emma thinks it’s cute.”

They break apart, laughing. “It is. Does Mikey know?”

“Not yet. Emma finally managed to convince him to come over for dinner next Friday before the Toman meeting. Maybe you should come to, so you can leverage your bad news with our good news,” he jokes. 

“That’s not a bad idea.” A lightbulb shines in his mind, remembering what he overhead a couple of weeks ago at the arcade. “I almost forgot, I have something else to tell you.” 

After recapping the incident with Kisaki and Hanma, Draken stares at him, uneasy. “Are you sure they said that?”

“Positive. They’re trying to take out Mikey.” Admitting it out loud has Mitsuya’s throat dry, the seriousness of it all creating a sense of dread in his chest. This feeling hasn’t left since that day. Voice trembling, he adds, “They also threatened Hana.” 

Draken huffs. “Sons of bitches. I always knew they were scheming. I don’t know why Mikey even trusted them to begin with. We have to tell him. Who knows when they’re gonna go through with it? Could be today, could be tomorrow.”

“I don’t think it’d be random. Kisaki is trying to work his way up, get as close to Mikey as possible. Maybe even take over your spot.” 

“Mikey’s too smart to fall for that,” Draken states, dismissing the very idea of it. 

“I don’t know,” Mitsuya ponders, biting his lip. “Kisaki is in his good graces right now after all that shit with the Leviathans.”

With more conviction, Draken says, “It takes a lot more than that for Mikey to truly trust people. He probably already suspects Kisaki’s true intentions. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He’s always been a big believer in that.”

Having known Mikey for years, ever since they all first founded Toman together, Mitsuya reconsiders the current situation. Could Mikey’s icy behavior towards his real friends be part of a more elaborate plan to foil Kisaki and Hanma? Is it all an act to test the gang’s loyalties to him and to Toman? After all, their fearless leader has always been one for dramatics. “So should we tell him?”

“We’ll wait until Friday,” Draken suggests. “He’ll want to make a big show out of it, in front of everyone. Have dinner with us and tell Mikey everything, even the stuff about you wanting to quit. Yeah, he might be a little pissed, but once we tell him about Kisaki, he’ll have his fun and feel better.” He smiles at him reassuringly. “Mikey cares for you. We all do. Not because you’re in Toman. Because you’re you.”

Mitsuya’s been contemplating all week long about what he truly wants to do when it comes to his future. It’s terrifying to take that leap outside of what he grew up with and into the unknown. Sure, it’s easy to think that leaving the gang life is easy. For him, Toman has been his comfort. Brothers who protected him, supported him, even when his own family couldn’t. It was exciting, an escape from his less-than-glamorous life.

He doesn’t need that anymore. He has Hana and being in love with her is just as thrilling. The surge of adrenaline that rushes through him each time he touches her, kisses her, hears her voice. He has someone who loves him for all that he is, someone who will continue to love him no matter what. His fellow twin dragon reassuring him is exactly what he needs to solidify his decision. It’s time to move on.

~~~

There’s a palpable tension in the air as you walk into Takashi’s home, fully aware that you’re alone with one another the rest of the night. It’s the first time in a while that your boyfriend’s mother doesn’t have to work on the weekend, so she took this opportunity to bring the girls to their grandparents. Takashi was extended an invitation of course; he declined, wanting to spend some much-needed alone time with you. You’re nervous about staying the night with him though you can’t deny it any longer that you’ve been thinking about this next step in your relationship.

The same genuine smile is on his face when he welcomes you in with a big hug. “Hi,” he greets, kissing you. You drop your bag to wrap your arms around him, melting into his lips. The jitters you had on the way here soon fade as you relax into his embrace. You could stay like this forever, given the chance. He pulls away, cupping your cheek lovingly. “The pizza should be coming soon. Do you want to put your stuff in my room?”

You nod in response, watching him grab your bag, heart racing once more while he leads you by the hand into his bedroom. You’ve been in here before, but never like this. Never with the preface of something more intimate happening, and soon. You still haven’t spoken a single word to him and he senses your trepidation. “Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. 

Unconvincing, you reply, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” He plops down at the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. 

You sit, hands on your lap, twiddling your thumbs. “I’m a little nervous.”

He holds you, lacing his fingers with yours. “About what?”

You face him. “This.”

Understanding, he leans closer, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I’m nervous too. But you know what? You and I have all the time in the world. We can go at whatever pace we’re both comfortable with. If that means tonight, great. If that means years from now, that’s great too. I just want to be with you, like this.” He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing along your knuckles. 

Your heart swells in your chest, not from nerves this time. “I want to be with you too.”

There’s a slight hitch in his voice before he whispers, “I love you, Hana.” He swallows thickly, repeating himself more surely, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

It slips from your mouth easily, naturally. “I love you too, Takashi.” It’s a sentiment that’s been lingering on the tip of your tongue for a while now, and you’re relieved to finally let it out. Ecstatic that he feels the same way as you. 

You and Takashi eat pizza on the couch, laughing over silly stories until there are tears in your eyes and your stomachs hurt in the best way possible. After dinner, you get ready for bed, Takashi gushing about how adorable you are in your pajamas, scooting to one side of the bed to make room for you, instantly cuddling you once you’re in. Moonlight streams dimly through his window, enough for you to see the soothing lavender in his eyes as the two of you stay up a few more hours talking about anything and everything. 

It gets close, almost too close. Chaste kisses that leave the both of you breathless and clearly aroused. Lingering touches, grazes of bare skin, I love you chanted over and over again. But you don’t consummate your relationship tonight. Instead, you fall asleep snuggled together, completely committed to one another for the rest of your lives. And somehow, this seems more intimate than anything else. 

~~~

Another week passes and Mitsuya finds himself once again at Draken’s for dinner on a Friday night. However, the setting is a bit different than usual: the notoriously absent and distant Mikey Sano has joined them. 

The obviously tension is quickly dismissed when Emma makes her important announcement to her brother, who reacts accordingly. After being cold and lifeless to those around him, Mikey sheds his frigid demeanor and cracks the first genuine smile they’ve all seen from him in months. “A baby?” he repeats, almost in disbelief, studying his sister’s tummy, which is starting to show signs of pregnancy. 

“A baby boy, Mikey. You’re going to have a nephew!” she says, tearing up. She holds out the sonogram to him. 

Mikey laughs softly, shaking his head, inspecting the picture. “I can’t believe my little sister is going to have a baby. And with this guy of all people,” he jokes, pointing at the man beside him.

“Hey!” Draken yelps, shoving his arm playfully. “I’ve been doing a damn good job so far providing for your pregnant sister while you’ve been off gallivanting with the Leviathans.”

Mikey’s expression sullens, realizing how accurate that is. “You’re right. I should have been here for you, Emma. I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what?” Draken prods, focusing his attention on him. “Come on, Mikey. We’re your friends. Your family. You can talk to us.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, taking his time to ultimately ignore him and deflect the attention to someone else. “What’s Mitsuya doing here anyways? Don’t tell me he’s gotten someone pregnant too.”

Mitsuya’s alarmed at the sudden spotlight. Chuckling nervously, he replies, “No one else is pregnant, don’t worry.”

“Though he did snag himself a sweetheart, didn’t you, Takashi?” Emma nudges him, grinning. 

“Oh?” Mikey raises a brow, curious.

He waves them off, embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s true, but that’s not why I’m here.” He clears his throat, ready to explain. “Mikey, there’s something you should know about Kisaki and Hanma.”

Mikey listens intently as he recalls the incident from a couple of weeks ago, fresh in his memory. He doesn’t interrupt and his expression remains neutral. When he’s done, Mikey sits in silence, processing this new information carefully. Eventually, he utters a single word. “Interesting.”

Draken’s face contorts into a grimace, unsatisfied with his friend’s reaction, or lack thereof. “That’s all you have to say?”

Mikey shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “What else should I say?”

“Kisaki is trying to get rid of you. Aren’t you upset?” Mitsuya asks, bothered by his cavalier attitude.

He smirks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t catch on to that motherfucker’s plan?” 

Draken barks a laugh, slapping Mikey’s back jovially. “I knew it! I fucking knew it! Didn’t I tell you, Mitsuya?!”

Mitsuya relaxes, smiling at the two of them. “So you knew about Kisaki this whole time?”

“The Leviathans aren’t as loyal to him as he thinks they are,” Mikey explains. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I wasn’t sure who to trust. At first,” he answers. 

Draken raises his voice. “You doubted us? After everything we’ve been through –”

“I know. I know, Draken.” His gaze lingers on the sonogram of his soon-to-be-nephew. “It took a while to come back to my senses, but I did. I’m sorry.”

“What about Emma? Why have you been ignoring her?”

Mikey gulps loudly, staring directly at his sister. “I wanted to protect you, so I distanced myself. I didn’t want Kisaki or Hanma thinking I was close to you.” He reaches out to hold her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Emma sniffs, wiping tears away from her eyes with her free hand. “It’s okay, Mikey. I’m just happy to have you back.”

“I promise I’ll be around more, for you and the baby,” he says, smiling at her. 

Mitsuya’s chest is heavy with emotion, happy to see his friend has returned to his normal self, anxious about the news that’s been weighing on his mind lately. He doesn’t want to put a damper on this joyous moment, but Draken doesn’t give him much of a choice when he announces, “Mitsuya has something else he wants to tell you.”

Mikey focuses his attention once more on him. “What is it, Takashi?”

He takes a deep breath, trying not to let his nerves prevent him from doing this. “I’m leaving Toman.”

Mikey blinks at him several times, processing, then his expression softens. “Is this because of this new sweetheart of yours?”

“It’s not just her,” Mitsuya explains. “It’s time for me to move on. Pursue my dreams of becoming a fashion designer. I can’t do that if I’m active in the gang.” He looks down at his lap, avoiding whatever reaction is on Mikey’s face. “I’m sorry.”

It’s silent for a few moments and Mitsuya is convinced that his friend is ready to shun him for the rest of his life. When he hears his soft voice, he looks up, relieved that he isn’t yelling or glaring daggers into his soul. “You don’t have to apologize, Takashi. It’s alright.”

“It is?” 

“Of course it is. We’re brothers. I’ll support you no matter what you decide. And if that means leaving Toman, so be it. It’s tough losing another founding member, but if this is what’s best for you, I have no choice but to be okay with it.” He grins at the picture in front of him. “Besides, there will be a new little one coming soon. Who knows? He could be my successor.”

Emma giggles nervously, not fond of the idea. “Let’s hold off on that for a while longer, shall we?”

It’s almost too good to be true, the way the stars have aligned just right for Mitsuya. His dreams are this much closer to becoming a reality. He’s got everyone in his corner with his entire future ahead of him, brighter and more tangible than it’s ever been before. 

With everything finally out in the open, they’re able to enjoy a relaxing meal, courtesy of Draken, who cooks a delicious dinner for them. Mikey catches up with Emma and Draken on their journey to become parents and Mitsuya shares in small detail about his serious relationship with Hana. 

When they’re done, the three men ride out together towards the shrine, nostalgia hitting Mitsuya hard and directly in his heart. This very well may be the last time he rides with them like this. It’s almost enough to change his mind about leaving. Almost. They’re no longer kids anymore, and he’s learned to be okay with that. 

They have a vague idea of how Mikey’s going to proceed with Kisaki and Hanma, but of course, there’s always something unexpected when it comes to Mikey. After the usual announcements, he calls out for the two to join him front and center. They’re surprised by the unexpected attention, unsure what Mikey could possibly be recognizing them for. 

Mikey’s voice is calm at first. “I want to take this moment to recognize these two, Shuji Hanma and Tetta Kisaki. I trusted them to infiltrate the Leviathans and they did so successfully.” There’s a hesitant round of applause from the confused crowd. 

Mitsuya notices the obvious buzz coming from the Leviathans gathered near the back but resists the urge to turn around to inspect. Takemitchy nudges him, whispering, “What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” Mitsuya responds.

Mikey continues. “Most of you may not know this, but I’ve grown a bit closer to the Leviathans myself. I wanted to gain their trust, since we were previously rivals. You see, trust is very important to me and very important to Toman. It’s one of the foundations that keeps a brotherhood together, don’t you agree, Kisaki?”

Kisaki’s shoves his glasses up his nose, suspicious of what’s happening. He nods, silently agreeing with him.

Mikey’s voice gets louder. “That’s why when someone breaks my trust, it’s hard for me to look pass that.” He directs his attention to Kisaki, eyes narrowing. “Isn’t that right, Kisaki?”

Hanma interjects, rolling his eyes, impatient with all the banter. “What the hell is this about, Mikey?”

“I’m expelling you both from the gang. Your Toman memberships are revoked immediately.”

There’s a collection of gasps and chatter, mostly everyone surprised by the sudden expulsion of the two captains who were previously praised just weeks before. Draken remains calm next to Mikey, occasionally glancing at Hanma, who flashes a creepy smile on his face, unfazed.

Kisaki yells, “What?! You can’t be serious!”

“Does this sound like a joke to you?” Mikey replies, stone-cold. 

Kisaki throws his hands up in the air, outraged. “What did I do?” 

Mikey walks up to him, nearly nose-to-nose. “You know what you did. Did you really think you could plot to take me out without anyone warning me about it first? Who do you think you are? Have you forgotten who I am?”

“I never did anything like that!” he argues, desperation laced in his tone. “You’re going to trust these nobodies instead of me?! I joined Toman to help you, Mikey. Everything I do is for your sake. Together, we can make Toman the most powerful gang in all of Tokyo. You need me!”

Mikey grabs him by the collar roughly. “I don’t need any part of you. I never have. Now get out of my sight.” He let’s go of him, waiting for them to leave. People from the crowd shout their support of Mikey’s decision, subsequently adding in their malice towards the two ex-Toman members. Hanma has yet to react properly to the situation, seemingly finding this entire altercation amusing, an eerie smirk on his face with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. When they refuse to leave, four burly brothers escort them out. Kisaki is in hysterics, continuing to blab on and on about how much Toman is going to suffer without him. 

Hanma finally speaks when he passes by Mitsuya. “You’re going to regret this,” he threatens loudly to no one in particular, yet Mitsuya has this awful sense that it may be towards him. He bursts into a maniacal cackle as he’s shoved towards the exit, his wicked laughter still ringing in Mitsuya’s ear even when they’re completely gone. 

[sovereignzofdarkness]

[thatoneloonaticsfan]

Did this because my iPad won't let me post art:

Yes, I had to also do this.

[theseimmortalsouls]

Beautiful Losers: Jim Reid of The Jesus And Mary Chain’s Baker’s Dozen via Quietus

Eschewing what he sees as the wilful obscurity of previous Baker's Dozens, Jim Reid takes Daniel Dylan Wray through the 13 records that "chiselled out The Jesus And Mary Chain"

“I tried to be honest,” says Jim Reid, when I ask him if this collection of records has any kind of unifying theme. “I looked at a couple of other people’s lists and I think some people were just being deliberately obscure and I didn’t want to do that.”

Instead, what you have here are records that have been utterly, undeniably, and infinitely important to the life of the Jesus and Mary Chain man, who has just co-authored the acclaimed memoir, Never Understood, with his brother William Reid. “They may seem a bit obvious,” he adds. “But I guess the brief is records that shaped your life and, well, the records that shaped my life are not the ones that I discovered three weeks ago. These are the records that really did chisel out the Mary Chain. So while they may seem a bit obvious now, at the time that we discovered them they really weren’t.”

However, as our conversation carries on, Reid does begin to pick up on something. “There’s a bit of a theme, I’m just noticing,” he says, as we’re in the middle of chatting about The Pastels. “Looking at this list, it’s all bands that should have made it that never did.”

So, from proto-punk classics to unearthed 60s folk records via a CD he found in his bag with no recollection of how it got there, these are the records that have proved to be a vital road map for Jim Reid’s life.

New York Dolls - New York Dolls

I was first aware of the New York Dolls when they were on the Old Grey Whistle Test and I watched it and I thought it was great. At the time I was still really young and listening to the likes of Slade. What I remember about that performance was that it felt like somebody had snuck in and like they were about to get kicked out at any moment. I never watched the Whistle Test that much because every time I watched it, it just seemed like, ‘Oh my God, why are these guys playing this non-song for 25 minutes?’ And then occasionally you’d watch it, just to check that it was as shite as you remember, but on this occasion, I remember thinking, ‘Wow, this is like one of the bands I like.’

But I had forgotten all about them until punk rock. Every interview you read it was mentioning the New York Dolls, so it was like going back to troll through that. I remember when I first heard the Sex Pistols and it was like where did this music come from? I’ve never heard anything like it. And then when I heard the New York Dolls, I thought, ‘Oh, that’s where it came from.’ They are typical of everything we as the Mary Chain are into, it just seems like they’re the real deal. And then you get all these fucking idiots that come along that seem to get all the record sales. All the success seems to go to the wrong people, like Aerosmith and Kiss, when it should have gone to the fucking Dolls. They should have been playing stadiums, not these twats that wear this stupid fucking face makeup for Christ’s sake.

2. Iggy & The Stooges - Raw Power

I could have just as easily picked the first record but Raw Power, again, like the Dolls, everybody was referencing it in the punk movement and doing covers. The Pistols did ‘No Fun’. And you go back and you listen to these things, and it just was punk. It’s not like it was like punk, it was punk before punk existed. This is an album that plays like a greatest hits. You don’t want to lift the needle up. Every song could have been a single, and every song seemed to be better than anybody else’s music. Again, it’s like, why aren’t they huge? Iggy was just like God. I mean the cover of that record; I remember just staring at it in a record shop window and just thinking ‘Who the fuck is that?’ I would have bought that record just for the cover but it was just a great record anyway. Iggy was like Mick Jagger without the showbusiness.

3. The Pastels - Slow Summits

This record feels like where The Pastels were moving towards for a while. They’d always had great songs but the productions could sometimes be a bit lo-fi and scratchy, which I also love, but by this record they had kind of got into a groove. And it wasn’t just great songs. It was like a great performance of great songs. It was something that they hinted at before, but it all just seemed to come together here. The Pastels are another one of those bands that really should have been huge. On planet Jimbo, if I could run the world, this would be the music that would be pumping out the radio, instead of the shite that was at the time [this record came out]. Also, it’s not expected for an album as late in their career to be this great. An awful lot of bands don’t get better with age but with The Pastels the standard stays high. I love that.

4. Suicide - Suicide

It's one of those records, if you’ve never heard it before and you played it to somebody and said, ‘When was this released?’ They’d probably think it was now. It was decades ahead of its time. I mean, that’s probably the wrong way to look at it, as it just doesn’t sound like anybody else. Most records, you can pick them apart, and be like ‘Oh, that bit reminds me of The Stooges or The Beatles, or what have you’, but with Suicide, when you hear that record, you have no idea where this came from. You don’t know where the reference points are because there seem to be none. And that’s kind of almost unheard of in music. It’s like it’s from another planet and you treasure it because it feels like this little nugget that you found.

5. Siouxsie And The Banshees - The Scream

By the end of punk, it was kind of like, what comes next? And nobody knew. There was a bit at the beginning of 1978 where you were thinking punk had run its course, so what do we do now? There were a couple of bands that led the way, and the Banshees were one of those. This record, you can hear that it came out of the punk movement, but it moves on, whereas hardly anybody else did. It was like punk, but different. Punk attitude, but not a punk sound. The guitar just sounded incredible. It was like, how is he doing that? And those two guys, Kenny Morris and John McKay, when they left the Banshees were still a great band but I think that they should have done whatever it took to keep those guys in the band. [Morris] was a great guitar player, he was just so inspired.

6. Joy Division - Unknown Pleasures

The first time we saw them was on this program Something Else, a teenage youth program or something, which was generally pretty shite, but they had occasionally good bands on it. We’d never heard Joy Division and we watched that performance on that TV show, and it was like, fuck. It was like what I imagine if you’re a kid and you see The Doors for the first time or something. We were just knocked out and we went to see them shortly after that at the Glasgow Apollo. It was them and the Buzzcocks but everybody, and I’m talking about everybody, was there to see Joy Division. Fucking jaws dropped when they came on. And the poor Buzzcocks were great but they couldn’t follow it. It was so intense. If I’m being totally honest, when I first heard the record I felt as though they could have done with those live rough edges on it a bit more but I just love the record now for what it is. I’ve lived with this record for so long that I can’t imagine it any other way.

7. Subway Sect - We Oppose All Rock & Roll

This is the only compilation on here but it’s because The Subway Sect never made that record that they should have made. There was a point during the punk times where I always felt the Subway Sect were going to be the next big thing. They seemed primed to be the future, the next big thing, and then they went away to make an album and it just took too long at a time when everything seemed to be: what’s going to happen in the next five minutes? They left people waiting too long and everybody forgot about them by the time they came back music had moved on. When they came back it was quite literally a different band. But on his compilation, you get as close to what I consider to be that classic Subway Sect album that never came out. There are four tracks here that were recorded for a Peel Session, and they’re just fantastic, along with the first two amazing singles.

8. The Saints - (I’m) Stranded

Of all the places for one of the best bands to come from, it’s Brisbane, Australia. And they were doing it way before anybody else. They were playing live in like, ‘73. They were just an amazing band. Sort of like the Australian version of the Ramones but they didn’t look the part. I remember at the time thinking, those guys need to go to the barber. But that’s how shallow a lot of people were about bands at the time and they didn’t get the recognition they deserved. And I feel it was because of the way they looked. Never was a more punky record made but for some reason, well, for the reasons I’ve just said, they were criminally overlooked. I’d love to have seen them live but never did.

9. The Cobbs - Trophies For Lovemaking!

They were originally called Ty Cobb, named after an American baseball player. I did a late 90s tour of America with my band Free Heat but it was more of a fucking drink and drugs tour of America than a rock and roll tour. We played a gig in Philadelphia and we hung around after the gig and went out for dinner with some people but I was totally fucking wasted. I don’t remember any of it. But I got back home after the tour and I found this CD in my luggage and it was this album before it ever came out. I played it, and I was like, ‘Fucking hell, who’s this band?’ Ben, who was in Free Heat, was my lodger at the time, and he was like, ‘That was those people we went out for dinner with in Philadelphia. Don’t you remember?’ I couldn’t remember any of it and I called him up because the number was on the CD. I said, ‘Your record’s great’. I expected that they were going to be huge any moment and it just never seemed to come together for them. They made some records under the name of Mad Action and I don’t know why it never happened for them because they’re one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. I think it’s all home recorded and I’m a sucker for lo-fi, I can’t get enough of it.

10. Mark Lanegan - Bubblegum

Mark was playing in London and he asked if Free Heat would support him, and at the time I wasn’t really that aware of who he was or any music that he’d made. He sent over this CD and I was like, ‘Fucking hell, this is amazing.’ And we didn’t do the gig because I was in a bad way at the time. I was totally off my tits all the time. And I just felt as if I went out there and played, I would make an absolute twat of myself. Free Heat had kind of disintegrated a bit, and me and Ben thought about doing it for about five minutes and just thought we were in no shape to do anything, so we turned it down. But I’d loved to have done it. if I was in better shape, I probably would have. It’s got loads of songs on it and every one plays like a single. You don’t get enough records like that. It’s just like a greatest hits record.

11. The Beatles - Revolver

All the others I’ve picked are almost like beautiful losers and The Beatles are the only winners here. We always loved The Beatles, me and William. Everybody goes on about Sgt. Peppers… but fuck that, this is the one that everybody should go on about. This changed music forever I feel. And it’s just bizarre to think this was three years after With The Beatles. To hear stuff like ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’, it’s mental it came three years after ‘I Wanna Be Your Man’. I loved punk rock but it didn’t exclude everything else. I felt that the people who took to punk like that were seeing it all the wrong way. Punk was to open doors, not to close doors, and we loved The Beatles before we loved punk. It wasn’t like overnight you chuck all your old records away. That would have been utterly moronic. This album just morphed into something that nobody could have predicted. I think music changed overnight because of it.

12. Vashti Bunyan - Just Another Diamond Day

She was a name that I’d heard but didn’t really know anything about for years. It might have even been through a song on an advert in the noughties or something like that that I first heard her music. I don’t remember. But I totally got it on the reissue. Then I read an interview or a review and it was telling the story about how she nearly made it in the 60s and this record came out and nobody gave a fuck about it at the time. But copies were selling on eBay for thousands of pounds. I thought, ‘What an interesting story.’ I heard the song ‘Diamond Day’, thought ‘That sounds great,’ and I went out and bought the album and I absolutely loved it. And the compilation that came out of all of her 60s stuff as well. She’s extremely talented.

13. The Velvet Underground & Nico - The Velvet Underground & Nico

I could have picked any Velvet Underground record. Anything that’s got The Velvet Underground written on it, you must play. That would be my advice to the youth of today. They’re like the indie Beatles. They’re culturally as important as The Beatles. How many bands have started because of the Velvets? And the way they looked in 66/67 was it. That was how all indie bands were going to look forever after that. And the music was just so fucking amazingly uncompromising. I mean, to sing a song like ‘Heroin’ in 1967, it’s just incredible. Glorifying drugs, glamorising drugs. These people took smack, so why not sing about it? Then just the fact that that’s on the same album as ‘I’ll Be Your Mirror’ and ‘Sunday Morning’ is just astounding. The whole idea of the Factory scene just seemed to us to be absurdly glamorous. I’ve always felt that pop music could be too saccharine at times, and that people ought to take a lot more chances than they appear to. And I think The Velvet Underground was a band that just didn’t give a shit what anybody had to say about what they were singing about. The subject matter was just something that people didn’t do at that time. It was light years ahead of everything else. The Velvets and the Stooges were just like a road map. It was like we were receiving little signals from a parallel universe in the shape of Velvet Underground records.

[kamaradka]

the amount of ppl who have known me for years who have casually referred to the country as "czech" thinking thats a noun is actually a very high number. another epic win for american education

[xanfeursel]

i need to draw some proper wyllphi art so bad

[revretch]

Instead of mating directly, a male velvet mite makes a sperm packet and lays a silken trail so females can find him and fertilize themselves with his sperm packet. Rival males want to destroy his sperm packet so females will use their sperm packets instead, so this guy is fighting some off to defend it!

Also, before Schmidt (creator of the pain scale) passed, one of the last things he did was study these mites (and determine they do not taste good) :( https://news.arizona.edu/story/meet-bug-tastes-quinine-habanero

https://twitter.com/Mills_bomb1969/status/1644004083601141760 A fight between male velvet mites!! A mite fite!!!!!!

[democracycentershows]

5/06/2023 - Show Announcement

Saturday, May 6, 2023 at 7pm @ the Democracy Center in Cambridge

Velvet Dreaming

Donna Revving (FKA Ultra Chapelle)

Vulpes Vulpes

All ages, no booze/drugs, masks required $10 pay what you can, partial benefit for The FANG Collective

[pinkie-quinns]

rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ??? | slightly nsfw under the cut | fame au p3 |

p1 p2 p4 p5 interlude p6

Steve’s presented at award shows countless times. He’s good at it. He’s funny, he’s charming. But usually, he didn’t want to strangle the guy standing next to him. Usually, the guy hadn't been pawing at his dick ten minutes before.

But he gets through it. 'Cause he’s a professional.

He is aware. Aware that the tension stifling the room isn’t exactly appropriate for the Animated Feature Film category.

Aware that he did, in fact, tear Eddie’s (uninsured) silk shirt.

Aware that, despite a scurry of last-second HMU efforts, his perfect hair looks insane.

Aware that this is a live broadcast. Aware that anyone with eyes could look at the state of both of them and probably only come up with 3 feasible conclusions. Aware that unlike the photo, this is pretty fucking incriminating.

But he gets through it. Cause he’s a professional.

Eddie's being punchably smug about it, of course. Emerged from the bathroom, pupils blown, eye glitter smudged, lips swollen, and “Ready for his close-up!”

He didn’t even talk to Steve after they were escorted off stage. Just slipped a note in his pocket.

Skip the afterparty?

Skip the afterparty. Who does he think he is? Steve’s expected to show face. His team needs him to show face. They have another suit prepared and everything. He gets it's a foreign concept to Eddie, but people actually rely on him.

Fuck him. Steve can’t just skip the afterparty.

He skips the afterparty.

He ignores the 40 frantic texts from Robin.

He gets his car to drive him to Los Feliz.

It's just the same as 5 years ago, but all reverse. The deja vu is making him woozy, making him sick. Same place he was five years ago but no one's here for apologies.

This time it's a knock at Eddie's door.

Stupid and hollow and idiotic. Steve’s still in his ugly velvet suit. The door swings open. Eddie’s changed. Showered. Hair damp and frizzy. Liner and stage glitter staining his under eyes. He looks soft under the yellow porch light.

There’s a moment, a millisecond where Steve knows he could turn around. Slam the door in Eddie’s face and pretend this never happened.

But he's all red inside, all forward momentum and frustration and anger.

“I still fucking hate you.”

Eddie offers him a sad smile. “I know.”

And then the door is shut behind him and Eddie’s got him against the wall and Steve’s tongue is back where it belongs. Where it’s always belonged. He wants Eddie to choke on it.

Eddie’s grinning, glassy-eyed worship, panting into his mouth, “Missed this.”

Nope.

Steve needs be miles away from whatever the fuck that is. So he gnashes Eddie's lip between his teeth. It's hard enough to draw blood. He needs him as red as he feels.

“Fuck you.”

In the hallway drag to the bedroom, he’s all destruction. Wants to knock down everything in sight. Wants to shove Eddie into his stupid platinum records and his stupid ten thousand dollar guitars. He wants fire and earthquakes. He wants Eddie split in half.

Eddie hasn’t gotten the memo, apparently. Keeps a cool laugh through the whole thing, laughs when Steve pushes him against some hideous credenza (a fucking credenza, the Eddie he knew would’ve throttled himself.) Laughs when some marble thing gets swatted to the floor like Steve’s a particularly bratty housecat.

“Damn. Really got you revved up, huh?” Eddie’s grinning at him like this whole thing is some kind of fucking joke. They’ve made it to the bedroom, finally.

Steve bites bruises at his neck. “Do you ever shut the hell up?”

“Nah, kinda my speciality, Ha–”

He pushes the heel of his palm into Eddie’s crotch. “You’re pathetic.”

“Yeah?” It’s a whine.

“So fucking pathetic.” And then Steve’s on his knees.

He gets lost in it. Just like he used to. He never does anymore. He’s still a bit drunk but he feels all heady like he’s taken the wrong pills. Feels wired too, like he drank three red eyes. Feels a lot of things.

It’s all the same and it’s all so different. Their bodies are different. Soft in places they once were hard. Hard in places they once were soft. They’re not old yet, not really, not at all. But they’re not teenagers anymore.

It’s like he can’t find the ground anywhere– Eddie’s hands on him, Eddie’s skin on him. Bare and rough and different and so familiar it whips the air out of his lungs. Eddie knowing just what works, knowing how to touch him better than anyone. Knowing him better than he knows himself.

He feels cursed. He feels ruined.

And when Eddie finally fucks into him, on that gaudy four-poster bed, a mess of sweat and sheets and glitter, he can’t help the part of him screaming home home home home.

Eddie lights a cigarette when it’s over. Offers one to Steve but he quit years ago. Not that he would know.

Steve says, “You've got to stop that shit, man. It’s gonna kill you.”

And Eddie does that stupid sad smile again. “I’d deserve it, wouldn’t I?”

So Steve finds as many pieces of his suit as he can. Hopes to god Tom Ford doesn’t like, sue him for losing it. Hightails it to the front door. He’s not interested in small talk. Not interested in throwing this asshole another pity party.

Eddie follows him out, leans against the door frame, easy and sad and stupid handsome and Steve hates him nearly as much as he hates himself. “Will I see you again, Harrington?”

Steve can't let him have this. Can't let him win after all this time.

“Don’t count on it.”

[fafnir19]

A prized possession

Leroy, a cocksure college jock with a swagger in his step and a twinkle in his eye, felt the power of the sports car beneath him like an extension of his own virility. He grinned smugly as he revved the engine of his father’s  Porsche, the sleek metallic body gleaming under the sunlight. Yet, his reign was soon to face a tumultuous turn.

One fateful evening, as Leroy lounged in the living room watching reruns of sports games, his father’s voice boomed through the room like thunder, “Son, we need to talk.” Leroy’s heart skipped a beat, the ominous tone causing a chill to run down his spine. “What’s up, Dad?” Leroy feigned nonchalance, trying to keep his voice steady. His father's face was grave as he uttered the words that shattered Leroy’s world, “I lost the Porsche in a gamble.” Leroy’s eyes widened in disbelief, his expression mirroring a deer caught in headlights. “You did WHAT?” he exclaimed, the blood draining from his face. “That’s illegal! We can't just give away the Porsche!” His father’s jaw was set with unwavering determination, “It's a matter of honor, Leroy. A gentleman keeps his word, even when the stakes are high.”

Leroy's mind raced with a million thoughts. How could he live without his beloved Porsche? It was his pride and joy, his ticket to popularity and admiration. He had to think fast, come up with a plan to save his precious car from falling into the hands of a stranger. An idea sparked in Leroy's mind, as he concocted a plan. “Let me bring the Porsche to the winner. I’ll have one last ride, say my goodbyes,” he proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His father looked at him with a mix of pride and curiosity. "Very well, Leroy. If that's what you wish, then go ahead. But remember, honor is at stake here," his father warned, his tone firm.

Little did his father know, Leroy had a trick up his sleeve, a cunning scheme to outwit the winner and reclaim what was rightfully his. The Porsche would not be lost to some stranger; it belonged with Leroy, and he would stop at nothing to ensure it stayed that way.

As Leroy pulled up to the grand mansion where the winner was waiting, he couldn't shake the unease settling in his stomach. The imposing gates swung open, revealing Miles, a handsome man with a confident smirk on his face.

Leroy stepped out of the Porsche, his eyes narrowing as he faced the new owner of his beloved car. "Congratulations on winning the Porsche, Miles," Leroy said, his voice laced with a hint of defiance. Miles chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, the previous owner himself. Come, let me drive you back home." Leroy hesitated for a moment before accepting, climbing into the passenger seat of the Porsche beside Miles. The engine roared to life, and they sped off down the winding road, the wind whipping through Leroy's hair.

Leroy gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the confrontation ahead. "So, Miles, about the Porsche... I believe there's been a misunderstanding. Gambling is illegal, and I can't let you keep it."

"So, Leroy," Miles began, his voice smooth as silk, "you mentioned gambling is illegal. Is that your only concern?" Leroy's jaw tightened. "It is against the law, and I won't stand by—" Miles raised a hand, cutting him off and began, his voice smooth like velvet. "You really do love this car, don't you?" Leroy's grip on the seat tightened. "The Porsche and I belong together. It's more than just a car to me." Miles arched an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Well then, let me show you just how much you belong to this car."

Leroy couldn't help but notice the strange sensation creeping over him. His trackpants seemed to morph into the same leather material as the car seats, fitting snugly against his toned legs. "Um, what's happening?" Leroy mumbled, eyeing his transformed attire warily. Miles chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just relax, Leroy. Enjoy the ride." With a sudden burst of speed, Miles hit the gas pedal, pressing Leroy back into the seat. The sensation was exhilarating, almost electrifying. Leroy's t-shirt and bomber jacket underwent a magical makeover, turning into a stylish leather jacket that revealed his sculpted six-pack underneath.

Wideeyed, Leroy stammered, "This... this isn't normal, right?" Miles flashed a knowing grin, his hand effortlessly shifting the aluminum gear lever. As Miles's fingers grazed the gearshift, Leroy felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through him, making his heart race in excitement. "Oh, what is...?" Leroy's words trailed off as Miles continued to stroke the gear lever lightly, sending shivers down Leroy's spine. A stirring in his loins caught Leroy off guard. His body responding to Miles's touch of the gearshift in ways he couldn't explain and suddenly he sported an boner. Miles' voice cut through Leroy's haze of desire. "Do you enjoy this ride, Leroy?" Leroy could only moan in response, his body aching for more of the exhilarating sensations coursing through him. The Porsche surged forward, the speedometer climbing higher and higher. Just when he thought he couldn't take the pleasure any more, something unexpected happened. Suddenly, the electronic limiter kicked in, halting the acceleration abruptly. And then, in a sudden twist of fate, Leroy felt a strange sensation around his nether regions. Looking down in his pants, he saw an aluminum chastity cage materialize around his manhood, fitting seamlessly with the Porsche's aesthetic and locking him in a state of bewildered arousal.

"Miles, what have you done to me?" Leroy cried out, his voice a mix of shock and desire. Miles just smirked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you feel it, Leroy? The connection between you and the Porsche? Embrace it, let go of your inhibitions." Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he pleaded with Miles. "Please, stop this! Let me go!" he cried out, his voice laced with fear and desperation. Miles, with a devious smile playing on his lips, pulled over to the side of the deserted road. With shaking hands, Leroy reached for the door handle, ready to bolt from the car and escape the enigmatic gaze of Miles. Was this his chance to break free from whatever strange spell had been cast upon him? Leroy tensed, preparing to make a run for it. However, his eyes widened in shock as Miles got out of the Porsche and opened the door on Leroy's side.

Before he could take a single step, Miles's firm grip pushed him back into the leather seat. With a quick movement, Miles lowered Leroy's pants, revealing the smooth expanse of his skin.

Leroy's breath hitched in his throat, his body reacting to the sudden exposure. And then, as if in a surreal dream, Miles unveiled his stiff uncut cock, pressing it against Leroy's unprepared entrance.

The initial pain of penetration tore through Leroy, eliciting a scream that echoed through the quiet surroundings. But as the initial shock faded, a different sensation began to bloom within him, one of heat and forbidden pleasure. Miles's movements were deliberate and precise, each thrust igniting a different kind of fire within Leroy's core. The leather seats beneath him seemed to mold to his every curve, cradling him in a strange comfort he couldn't deny. With each push and pull, Leroy's world narrowed down to the point of contact, where pleasure mingled with pain in a dance as old as time itself. His moans filled the air, a symphony of conflicting emotions that only seemed to spur Miles on further. Leroy found himself lost in a whirlwind of sensations, his body no longer his own but a vessel for something primal and raw. The aluminum shifter gleamed in the dim light, a silent witness to the passion unfolding within the confines of the luxurious car and Miles' dark eyes bore into his, holding him in their hypnotic gaze as he whispered, "You're like my Porsche: sporty, good-looking and only meant for the pleasure of rich men! You’re my Porsche-boy now!"

Leroy's mind reeled with confusion and desire as he found himself trapped in a situation he never could have anticipated. Miles's dark eyes bore into him, a predatory glint dancing within them as he took control of the situation. "What have you done to me?" Leroy managed to stammer out, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and arousal. Miles's lips curved into a knowing smile, his fingers trailing lightly over the aluminum gearshift. "Relax, Leroy. You're exactly where you belong now," he purred, his voice like velvet, laced with a hint of danger. Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled against the strange sensations coursing through him. The metallic cage around his manhood felt constricting yet oddly exhilarating, reminding him of his newfound connection to the Porsche. Miles leaned in closer, his breath warm against Leroy's skin. "You're not Leroy anymore. You're Porsche-boy, my exclusive toy," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down Leroy's spine.

Leroy's mind reeled with conflicting emotions. Was this his fate now, to be nothing more than an expensive toy in the hands of a wealthy man? His muscles tensed beneath the snug leather jacket that now adorned his chiseled body, a silent reminder that  Miles' wants him to look gay. With a resigned nod, Leroy accepted his new identity as Porsche-boy, letting go of the name Leroy as if it were a burden too heavy to bear. The leather seats cradled him, molding to his form as though they were a part of him, just like the aluminum chastity cage that held his desire in check. Taking a deep breath, Porsche-boy slid behind the wheel, his hands trembling slightly as he turned to Miles and asked, "Where should I drive you, my owner?"

Miles smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned back in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on Porsche-boy with possessive intent.

"Take me to the heart of the city, Porsche-boy. Show me what this sleek machine of yours can do." With a nod, Leroy revved the engine, the powerful roar of the Porsche filling the air around them. He felt a surge of adrenaline as he tore down the open road, the wind whipping through his hair, the leather jacket tight against his skin. As they sped through the city streets, Leroy revelled in the feeling of freedom and power that came with being Miles' Porsche-boy.

With each passing moment, he embraced his new role, the lines between pleasure and pain blurring in a heady mix of desire and submission. And as the city lights blurred past them, Leroy knew that his journey was far from over. He was no longer Leroy, the college jock with an alpha mentality. He was Porsche-boy, a prized possession in the eyes of his wealthy owner, destined for a world of luxury, pleasure, and uncharted desires. And in that moment, as he surrendered to the intoxicating rush of the unknown, Leroy found a sense of fulfillment he had never known before. As a result, he forgot his former name and Leroy was no more. In his place stood Porsche-boy, a symbol of luxury and desire, a testament to the intoxicating allure of submission and control.

Embracing his fate as Miles' Porsche-boy, he knew that this new chapter in his life would be anything but ordinary.

[daisynik7]

Heart on a Sleeve

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~6.3k

cw: explicit language, switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person), established relationship, kissing, suggestive touching, sexual tension

Summary: You and Mitsuya make your budding relationship public and things only continue to grow from there. The Tokyo Manji gang successfully absorbs the Leviathans all thanks to the efforts of new captains Tetta Kisaki and Shuji Hanma. Despite Mikey’s praise for them during this month’s meeting, Mitsuya remains wary of the two. His suspicions only increase when he runs into them while on a date with you. 

Author's Note: This took me so long to write, but I did it and I am proud of it. I thoroughly enjoy writing about the honeymoon phases in a relationship, so this was a fun one for me. Thanks for the love and support on this so far and I hope you like where the story is going so far. Thank you for reading.

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Sunday night, still reeling from the glorious high of breakfast with your new boyfriend Takashi Mitsuya, you call your best friends to break the news.

“You’re what?!” Keiko exclaims, her shriek loud through the phone. 

You lower the volume, not wanting to be overheard by your parents downstairs. “I’m dating Takashi Mitsuya,” you repeat. “From homeroom.”

Mei is quiet on the other end while you can practically hear the cogs spinning in overdrive in Keiko’s head. “Takashi Mitsuya, from homeroom?”

Losing patience, and also amused by her reaction, you confirm, “Yes.”

“Mitsuya, who’s in the Tokyo Manji Gang. That Mitsuya?”

“Yes, Keiko, that Mitsuya!”

“He’s in a gang. What is our sweet Hana doing dating a gangster?!”

Defensive now, you reply, “He’s been nothing but kind to me. You know as well as I do that he’s never caused problems for us at school. He’s only ever acted when he knew there was someone he needed to stick up for. I don’t care that he’s in a gang. He’s a good person and I like him.”

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Mei finally speaks. “You’re right, Hana. We know he’s a nice guy. We just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all we’re trying to say. Right, Keiko?”

She clears her throat before muttering, “Yeah.”

“Takashi would never hurt me. I feel safe with him.”

At that, they relent, setting their worries aside to discuss the details on how your budding relationship came to be. They had known since the beginning that you were taking sewing lessons from him, though they didn’t have a clue how you truly felt. It started as a tiny crush, a fantasy that you kept secret because you never considered it’d ever become real. Then, when Takashi admitted his feelings towards you, everything happened so fast. It’s only now that you are able to reveal everything to your friends, who are ultimately excited for you. 

The only obstacle left is your parents. You’re sure that they’ll be in for a shock once you tell them since this is your first boyfriend ever. Naturally, they’ll be protective, as any parent would be. You’re confident that once they get to know Takashi, they’ll see him just as you do. 

Monday morning, you do your usual routine of walking to school with your friends. Takashi offers to pick you up, but until you are ready to inform your parents about him, you figure it’d be best to avoid any cause for suspicion, especially since they are already wary of him to begin with. Instead, you part ways with Mei and Keiko to meet him in the parking lot before school, greeting him with a hug. He smiles, placing his hands at your waist to pull you in closer. “Hi.”

You nuzzle your nose to his, beaming. “Hi.”

He kisses you again, his tongue slipping past your lips this time, surprising you. Heat rushes into your cheeks, flustered and excited. You break apart, burying your face into his shoulder, catching your breath while he massages your back tenderly. “Are you okay?”

You nod, still hiding. “Just…getting used to all this.”

He tips your chin up to meet your gaze, smiling softly. “Me too. If I’m moving too fast, just tell me, okay? We’ll go at the pace you’re comfortable with.” He gives you a quick smooch before locking his fingers with yours. “Ready?”

As new and foreign as all this is for you, having Takashi makes it’s much easier to navigate. He leads you through the hallways of your school, unwavering, the grip on your hand confident, despite the prying eyes and hushed whispers from your passing peers. It’s odd being the center of attention for once, but like most high school relationships, the intrigue from others will eventually fade, and all that will matter is how the two of you feel about each other. And in this moment, you’re happy to be by his side.  

Peh-Yan, one of your classmates and Takashi’s close friend from Toman, approaches you with a respectful bow. “Hello, Shimizu.”

You smile, greeting him back by his surname. “Hello, Hayashi.”

Takashi smirks, giving him a light punch on the arm. “No need to be so formal, Peh-Yan.”

He stands up straight. “Right, sorry. Anyways, I have some intel on Kisaki and Hanma infiltrating the Leviathans. Thought I’d pass on the information to you in case you were interested.”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, facing you. “Toman stuff. I’ll see you later in class, okay? Let’s eat lunch together.” He gives you a peck on the cheek, letting you go. 

Part of you wants to stay, to listen in, but you know better than to intrude on topics that don’t pertain to you. You wave goodbye, heading to your classroom alone, your skin tingling with his warmth, already missing it.

~~~

Mitsuya never imagined himself to be a doting boyfriend, but he quickly finds himself adapting to that role almost too easily. In their only shared class, he spends too much time staring at the back of her head, admiring how cute she is. The few times she glances back at him to flash him a grin, his heart swells and he’s itching to hold her again as soon as class is dismissed. Usually, he’d eat lunch with Peh-Yan out in the courtyard or alone inside the home economics room while working on his latest sewing project. However, this entire week, he sits with his girlfriend and her friends. Mei and Keiko are nervous around him at first, unsure how to interact with a delinquent. But with Hana’s help and support, he gradually falls into place with them, finding topics to discuss that all of them can connect on. 

They aren’t able to spend much time together after school, not with the both of them being preoccupied with extracurriculars. So, Friday remains a special day for them. It’s their first sewing lesson since everything changed a week ago. Mitsuya is a bit nervous, wondering if he’ll be able to focus on the actual lesson when he gets so easily distracted by her presence. When she meets him inside the home economics room, cradling her helmet, a pleasant smile on her face, all his worries disappear. Even if he does get distracted, who cares? He’s happy to be spending this time with her, alone.

She drops the helmet onto the usual desk, stepping closer to him. “Hi Takashi.”

“Hi Hana,” he responds, closing the distance between them with a kiss. They’ve gotten more comfortable doing this, their lips brushing seamlessly, his hands always finding the plush curves of her body. He loves the way she feels under his touch, on his mouth, against his chest. All the spaces of him that felt empty before are now full, all thanks to her. 

Before they get carried away any further, he pulls off reluctantly, steadying himself before explaining what they’ll be doing today, eyes flitting back to her lips, now slightly swollen from their kisses. It’s happened several occasions so far this week. Their chaste kisses turning into more, both of them chasing their hunger little by little, teasing that fine line inch by inch. Mitsuya has managed to contain his excitement, though it’s getting more and more difficult, especially with her gradually testing the waters. A soft moan against his lips, her fingers toying with the elastic of his pants, her tongue pushing up against his, mouth open for him to explore and enjoy. He’ll continue to stand by, waiting until she’s ready to take the next steps forward. Despite how eager he is, nothing’s more important to him than making her feel safe. 

Their lesson today results in a heart patch sewn onto the sleeve of her jean jacket. She admires it silently as Mitsuya puts away the sewing machine and the rest of his materials into one of the cabinets. When he’s finished, he returns to her side, draping his arm over her shoulders, pressing a smooch to the side of her head. 

“The machine made this way easier than I thought it would be,” she comments.

“It usually does,” he says, running his finger over the stitching. “Before you know it, you’ll be an expert.”

“I doubt it. But that’s okay because I have you. If this patch here ever comes off, I’ll go straight to you.”

He raises a brow at her, teasing, “And who says I’ll help you?”

She tugs at his collar, peering up at him, smiling. “I guess I just assumed, now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“You’re right. I’ll always be here to stitch your little heart back on.” He leans in, meeting her lips in a passionate kiss, surrounding her in his arms, the fluttering in his belly growing erratic. The door is closed and all the other students have already left for the day to enjoy the weekend. Mitsuya’s favorite spot is an empty classroom after school, and they happen to have this one all to themselves. As if on cue, his phone vibrates in his pocket, and before he checks it, he knows it’s his mother reminding him that she’s leaving for her shift soon. Disappointed, they break apart, gigging as if they were caught doing something naughty while they gather their belongings, heading towards his bike outside in the parking lot. On their way to his house, her grip is snug on his waist, holding him tightly. He’s reminded how good it feels to ride with her behind him, keeping her safe, keeping him safe. 

They behave themselves in front of his sisters, only exchanging subtle glances and grazes when they’re absolutely in the clear. He’s tempted to skip today’s Toman meeting, hoping to spend the rest of the night by her side, but given Peh-Yan’s news from earlier this week, it’s an important one to attend. Begrudgingly, he says his goodbyes, sneaking a kiss to Hana’s cheek before he leaves for the shrine. 

As usual, Draken is waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, leaning against his Zephyr. He smirks as soon as he sees him, giving him a congratulatory pat on the back. “My man. Did you finally get some tonight?”

Mitsuya rolls his eyes, shrugging him off. “I told you, we’re taking things slow. Besides, we were watching the brats. We couldn’t do it even if we wanted to.”

“Are you telling me that you don’t want to do it with her?” he teases.

“No, I definitely want to do it with her. I mean, make love to her,” he corrects himself, blushing. 

Draken snorts, not one to indulge in euphemisms. “So when do you think the two of you will start fucking then?”

He grimaces at his vulgarity before answering, “I don’t know. It hasn’t even been a week yet. We’re taking it one day at a time. It’ll happen when the time is right.”

Draken digs into his pocket to retrieve a lollipop, unwrapping it to stick into his mouth, sucking on it loudly. “Alright, it’s your dick. I’m just here to offer you some moral support, man-to-man. Dragon-to-dragon.”  

Mitsuya chuckles. “I appreciate it.”

They wait a few more minutes, chatting idly about other topics. Emma seems to be doing well so far in her pregnancy. Draken continues to cook whatever she’s craving at the time, from chicken katsu curry to spaghetti and meatballs. They don’t know the gender yet, though they don’t really seem to care; they’re both just ecstatic to be having this baby in the first place. Mikey remains oblivious to the fact that his sister is with child and that his right-hand-man is about to become a father. According to Draken, he continues to be a recluse, despite their efforts to reach out to him. It seems like forever now that Mitsuya has seen Mikey outside of these Toman meetings. He remembers vividly the tears it Takemitchy’s eyes over a month ago now, worried about their friend, their leader. He’s gone. And I don’t know where to find him. Maybe it’s time they finally made a real effort to bring him back. 

From the corner of his eye, Mitsuya spots Kisaki and Hanma, the newly appointed captains, leading a group of unfamiliar faces up the shrine steps. He assumes it’s members of the rival Leviathan gang. The two must have been successful in their mission to infiltrate and absorb them, which doesn’t change Mitsuya’s opinion about them. Peh-Yan warned him about this earlier in the week and anticipates Mikey’s reaction to this recent development. 

Takemitchy eventually arrives with Chifuyu, the two of them still the best of buddies. They greet the others cheerfully, waiting for Hakkai, who is always the last to arrive, fashionably late with a toothy grin on his face as they all berate him playfully, joking about how he was with yet another chick right before this. Draken, who always has a sixth sense about these things, deems it time to begin, leading his brothers up the shrine steps. Mitsuya always gets a swell in his chest when they’re together like this, nostalgic and proud to be in Toman. If only Mikey were here to join them like he used to.

In their usual formation, the men face Mikey, who’s front and center, Draken standing beside him. His eyes are noticeably heavy from either exhaustion or loss of sleep, maybe both. There’s an unsettling lack of emotion in his expression. He used to burn so bright with passion and intensity, something they all admired about him. It’s what got them to form Toman in the first place. Now, it’s as if the fire has dimmed to the tiniest ember, flickering just enough to barely survive. 

After going over standard housekeeping issues, Mikey moves on to the main topic of tonight’s meeting. “Kisaki, Hanma, come forward,” he announces, beckoning them towards the front. They step towards him, smug grins on both their faces. Mitsuya can’t help but roll his eyes, already annoyed.

“I’d like to recognize these two for successfully following through with their mission. The Leviathan gang is no more. We welcome its past members into Toman as one of our own. Show them the respect they deserve.”

There are loud whispers amongst the crowd, everyone turning to look at the new brothers, who are intimidating in terms of numbers. There’s at least twenty of them, most of them built like brick houses. Mitsuya has always felt odd whenever previous rivals gangs join them. There’s always that initial distrust, considering they were just at each other’s throat prior. But he’s learned to accept it for what it is, trusting Mikey to make the right calls. 

“Anything you’d like to share with us?” Mikey opens the floor to the two captains. 

Kisaki, of course, takes the opportunity to speak, his voice as slimy as ever. “Toman welcomes the Leviathans with open arms. All these men will surely make a great addition to our crew. Not only are they abundant in muscle, they are clever and cunning. Exactly what Toman needs to continue its reign over Tokyo.”

Hanma adds, “It was a real bitch to convince them to join us, but it was all worth it. You’ll see soon enough,” he smirks, licking his lips. 

“I’m sure we will,” Mikey says with a small smile, the slightest spark in his eyes. “As far as I know, you two are the only captains that have stepped up recently. I have nothing but the highest respect for you.”

More grumbling from the crowd, especially from the remaining captains. Draken’s brows are tight, clearly offended by the subtle diss. Chifuyu scoffs quietly, nudging Takemitchy, who looks like he’s near tears. Have their personal lives gotten too much in the way of their duties to Toman? Have they all let Mikey down?

When the meeting ends, they break formation to gather into their smaller circles. Chifuyu is still peeved, complaining to them. “Respect? To those two bastards? Has Mikey lost it?”

“Hey, watch it,” Draken warns. “I’ll admit. I’ve been too busy with the baby.”

“And I’ve been busy preparing for university, I’ve totally neglected Toman!” Takemitchy admits. “I don’t blame Mikey for being annoyed with us.”

Chifuyu throws his arms up, frustrated. “What does he expect us to do? He hasn’t reached out to any of us, doesn’t even talk to us anymore. How are we supposed to do anything if he’s completely ghosting us?”

From his peripheral, Mitsuya notices Mikey walking away from whatever private discussion he’s having with the old Leviathan gang. Before he can go anywhere else, Takemitchy calls out for him, waving enthusiastically. “Mikey!”

Chifuyu shakes his head. “Takemitchy, you idiot,” he mutters.

They all turn to their leader, who stares at them, eyes cold, palms in his pockets. He doesn’t move for a couple of seconds, and Mitsuya thinks that he’ll ignore them completely, which wouldn’t be surprising. But then, he takes slow steps towards them, expression unreadable. When he’s there, none of them are sure what to say, until Takemitchy breaks that ice. “Let’s go to Danny’s tonight! Just like old times!” he suggests, desperate.

Late night dinner at Danny’s was routine for them back when they were young, dumb, and broke. The food was mediocre at best, but the memories they shared there is what kept them coming back. Pancake eating contests, where Mikey would always come out victorious. Flirting with their favorite waitresses to get extra French fries. Loading up on the free refills of soda to compete in burping competitions. It’s more nostalgic than anything. Gradually, as they got older and busier with life, Danny’s become less frequent. Maybe this is what they need to get back into the normal swing of things. 

Mikey doesn’t say much, except for giving them a small nod and muttering a quiet, “Sure,” his hands still buried in his pockets. At least it’s something. 

~~~

It’s past midnight by the time Mitsuya arrives back home. You’re half-asleep on the couch with the TV on in the background. The girls are snoring in their room, tired after playing with you all night. He rouses you awake, caressing your cheek sweetly as he kneels on the floor beside you. “Hey cutie, I’m back.”

The pet name catches you off guard. You beam at him, tugging him by the neck to meeting his lips with yours. He smiles into this kiss. “You like that, huh?”

Nodding, you answer, “Yeah, I do.”

He deepens the kiss, running his fingers through your hair, tongue flicking against yours. Soon, you’re both breathing heavily, lips smacking loudly. Before it gets any further, you break away from him, giggling. “Takashi.” 

Pressing his forehead to yours, swallowing hard, he whispers, “Yeah, I know. I know.”

You grin, sitting up on the couch to make room for him, patting the space beside you. “How was the meeting?”

He sits down, holding your hand, resting his head on your shoulder. “It was good. We went out for a bite after and it was really fun. Mikey joined us and it was just like old times.”

“Mikey?” you ask. You’ve heard that name before, but you barely know anything about Toman, simply because you’re too nervous to ask, embarrassed to be so nosy. 

“He’s Toman’s leader. He’s the reason Toman is what it is. He started it all. Recently, it seems like he’s been distant from us. But tonight, I think we finally got him back.”

You squeeze him tight. “I’m happy to hear that.”

He doesn’t explain any further, enjoying the comfortable silence between you. Eventually, he says, “We should go out on a real date tomorrow. My mom doesn’t work until night, so we can spend the day together. What do you think?”

“I’d love that.”

He sits up, grinning at you. “Want to just stay the night?”

You laugh. “I don’t think my parents would like that, considering they have no idea we’re officially dating yet.”

“Then maybe we should tell them soon, over dinner. I really want them to like me.”

“I’m sure they already like you!” you answer, half-heartedly. In all honestly, you have no idea how they feel about him, except for that short conversation you had previously over dinner. You wonder how they will react when you tell them he’s your boyfriend, that you even have a boyfriend. You’d be lying to yourself if you say you aren’t anxious about it. “Let me talk to them first and we can arrange something, okay?”

He smiles brightly, pinching your cheek. “Don’t be nervous! I’ll work my charm on them, you’ll see.”

Mitsuya drives you home after a few more snuggles on the couch. Your parents are asleep by the time you walk through the door, quietly slipping out of your shoes and sneaking up the stairs into your bedroom. You don’t fall asleep right away, staring blankly at the ceiling, excited for tomorrow’s date with your boyfriend. He plans to pick you up at eleven in the morning but doesn’t elaborate on any more details. You wonder what he has in store for the two of you. 

The next morning, you eat breakfast before getting ready for the day ahead of you. You make the brave decision to inform your parents about where you’ll be off to today. Clearing your throat, you brace yourself, confessing, “I’m going on a date today. With Takashi Mitsuya.”

It’s the most jarring silence for the next ten seconds. Your mother gawks at you, dropping her fork onto her plate with a harsh clink. Your father’s face is twisted in an expression akin to him witnessing some sort of apparition or horrible monster. Given their reactions, you almost regret being so honest with them, though a small weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Your mom is the first to speak, tone unnaturally high-pitched when she responds, “Oh! Is this a study date perhaps? Are you preparing for an upcoming exam?”

You shake your head. “No. We’re just hanging out.”

“Hanging out,” she repeats, slightly breathless now. “You’re hanging out with a boy?”

“Yes,” you answer plainly, maintaining your patience as the cogs in her head start spinning faster, finally understanding. 

“Oh. Okay,” you mother says, at a loss for words. Your dad remains speechless, clearly flabbergasted by the mere idea of you spending time with someone other than them or Keiko and Mei.

Before they can begin a full-fledged interrogation, you quickly scarf down the rest of your breakfast on the plate, standing up and announcing, “I’m going to change now, bye!”, sprinting up the stairs without any further explanation. For now, it seems you’ve dodged a bullet.

For today’s date, you decide to wear a floral sundress that ends just above your knees, something you’re comfortable and confident in. You keep your hair the same, unsure what else to do with it. You stare at your reflection in the mirror a while longer than usual, nervous though you know you shouldn’t be. Takashi has been nothing but kind to you, so you have no reason to believe he’d care so much about your appearance. Still, you want to make a good impression on him, especially since this is your first official date. 

When he texts you that he’s waiting outside, you give yourself one last glance in the mirror, rushing out of your room to slip into your nicest pair of sandals by the doorway. Your mother and father both appear beside you, watching. “Be careful,” your mother comments, crossing her arms over her chest. Your father hums, still incapable of forming words as a response. 

Turning the knob to leave, you smile at them. “I will.” 

To your surprise, Takashi stands on the other side of the door, flashing that signature grin, waving politely. “Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Shimizu.” He has a backpack slung over his shoulders and you notice that his Impulse is nowhere to be seen, so you assume he walked here. 

Your mother returns his smile as best as she can, though she’s obviously still wary about the whole situation. “Hello, Mitsuya. What are your plans today with our daughter?”

Your cheeks get hot, embarrassed by her nosiness, but Takashi takes it in stride. “We’re going to have a picnic at the park. I made sandwiches for our lunch. Then, we’re taking the train to Shibuya to play at the arcade. I’ll have Hana home before dinnertime, since I’ll be babysitting my sisters tonight.” 

Impressed by his answer, you study your mom’s reaction, mentally breathing a sigh of relief when her smiles grows wider, seemingly pleased. “That sounds like a fun time.” She nudges your dad. “Doesn’t that sound like a fun time, sweetheart?”

Your father’s eyes narrow, glaring at your poor boyfriend. “I suppose,” he mutters.

Takashi doesn’t waver, maintaining that easy-going expression while he bows to them. “Thank you for allowing me the honor of spending time with your daughter.”

The two of you manage to leave for your date unscathed. From the doorway, your parents watch you and Takashi walk towards the park, keeping your distance from each other until you’re out of their sight. With the coast clear, Takashi laces his fingers with yours, laughing. “Well, that was scary.”

“You were scared? You were completely cool in front of them,” you reply, surprised by his comment.

“I’m glad it came off that way because I was this close to shitting myself, especially when your dad starting staring daggers at me,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“I’m so sorry about that! He’s been acting weird all morning since I told him I’m going on a date with you.”

“You told them that?” 

“Well, I didn’t want to lie to them,” you explain. “I think they were just shocked at first. I’ve never been out with a boy before, so naturally, they are concerned.”

He nods. “I get that. It’s nice to have parents that are always worried about you,” he muses, a glint of sadness in his eyes. “I love my mom, don’t get me wrong. But she’s always working, so she relies on me a lot to be the man of the house. Nobody ever really worries about me, y’know?”

Your chest swells with emotion, empathizing with him. It can’t be easy being forced to grow up too fast. You squeeze him affectionately. “Well, you have me now. I’ll be here to worry about you and take care of you whenever you need it.”

He pauses in his tracks, staring at you. “You mean it?”

You smile reassuringly at him. “Of course I mean it.”

He gazes at you, pulling you in close to kiss you on the lips. You melt into him, letting his tongue slip inside your mouth, deep and passionate, full of unspoken gratitude for your commitment to him. “Thank you, Hana. I – ” he pauses, swallowing whatever he’s about to admit, instead repeating, “Thank you.” You pretend not to notice it, forcing your mind to forget about it completely. 

A few minutes later, you arrive at the park, finding a good spot to settle in. It’s a beautiful day, perfect for a picnic like this. Bright sun, blue skies, and the ideal breeze. People are gathered all around you, walking along the pathway, jumping on the playground, throwing a ball in a game of fetch with their dogs. Takashi swings his bag towards his front, retrieving a big throw blanket that you lay out on the grass. He unloads his pack, displaying the sandwiches and variety of snacks he prepared, including some of your favorites. You’re dazzled by how charming this all is, how charming he is. Every day you’re together, you grow more and more fond of him. 

The two of you dig in and everything is, of course, delicious. What makes it more special is the company. It’s easy being with Takashi. Conversation flows naturally and you never have to think about occupying any spaces of awkward silence. Even when it is, it’s comfortable, the two of you basking in each other’s presence, marveling at the sights and sounds surrounding you. Children’s laughter ringing from the nearby swings, dogs barking, the gentle wind blowing through the trees. When a leaf falls in your hair, Takashi picks it off, lingering a bit longer to twirl your soft strands between his fingers. After you’ve digested enough, you both lie down, staring up at the sky, pointing out clouds shaped like cotton balls, marshmallows, and bunnies. His hand never leaves yours, always interlaced, his fingers filling in the spaces between yours seamlessly. Time both stops and passes too quickly whenever you’re with him. You’re lost in the moment, savoring each second and before you know it, it’s already time to move on to the next. “We should head to the arcade now,” he suggests, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek. 

You nuzzle into his palm, relishing his gentle touch. He gives you a smooch on the forehead. “I could lay here for hours with you. But I want to impress you with all my skills at the arcade so that you think I’m cool,” he teases.

You giggle, sitting up to help him pack. “I already think you’re cool; you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

With everything put away, the two of you take the train towards one of the more popular arcades in Shibuya. It’s teeming with kids and teenagers, typical for a Saturday. You spot several of your classmates here, who greet you with a polite wave. At one of the cashiers, Mitsuya redeems two play cards to last you enough games for the next hour. 

As expected, he suggests starting with a racing game, one where you’re propped on top of a fake motorcycle, riding through the streets of Tokyo. Seems all too fitting for him. What he doesn’t expect is for you to win, whizzing past him at the very last second before crossing the finish line. He’s thoroughly impressed, rewarding you with a proud kiss on the cheek. 

You go through a variety of games, from classics like skee-ball and basketball, to new ones you haven’t tried before, like a zombie invasion simulation that had you screaming at the top of your lungs to your boyfriend’s delight. Eventually, you make your way to the claw machines, where Mitsuya manages to win a Hello Kitty plushie after five tries and you somehow score a squishy shark in only one. You exchange your prizes with each other, both of you cherishing them as your first gifts as a couple.

Time flies as it always does with him. Eventually, you run out of tokens to continue playing, only left now with points to redeem for prizes. On the way to the prize room, you notice Mitsuya staring off into the distance. You find out who he’s looking at; there are a group of boys in the signature Toman jackets gathered on one side of the arcade where the shooting games are located. Most of them are burly and it’s hard for you to believe that they’re your age, maybe even younger. There’s a shorter boy amongst them, blonde hair and glasses that gleam against the bright lights of the arcade. You’ve never seen him before, though something about him gives you an unexplainable chill.

“Are those your friends? Do you want to say hi to them?” you suggest.

Takashi snaps out of it, surprised that you caught him. “No, that’s okay. It’s our day today, remember? No need to drag you into any Toman business.”

You’re tempted to argue with him, not at all minding being introduced to this part of his life. However, he seems determined not to do that in this moment, so you let it be. 

You take your time perusing, making note of what you can afford with the total number of points the two of you managed to accumulate throughout the day. It’s clear that he’s distracted now, not nearly as chatty as he was earlier, the most subtle glint of worry on his face. Halfway through, he announces, “I’m going to use the bathroom. Just stay right here, okay? I’ll be back.” He walks out briskly, leaving you alone. You sigh to yourself, already lonely without him. You dawdle even more as you admire the big prizes on display, contemplating saving your points to redeem one of them someday in the future. 

“Got enough for that?”

The unfamiliar voice startles you. You turn to whoever is speaking, surprised to find a tall, lanky boy standing beside you, grinning. His hair is black, though he’s got a blonde stripe down the middle. A long, golden earring dangles on his left lobe. He’s wearing the recognizable Toman jacket. 

You swallow, suddenly nervous under his gaze. “What?”

“I asked if you have enough points for that.” He points at the giant Pikachu plushie you were just admiring. “Because if you don’t, I can definitely lend you some.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me accepting things from strangers.”

His smile grows bigger, showing his teeth, amused by your response. He holds his hand out. “Shuji Hanma.”

Hesitant, you end up taking it, introducing yourself. “Hana Shimizu.”

At that, his eyes widen and his grip on you becomes tighter. “I guess we’re not strangers anymore.”

~~~

He should have ignored them completely, Mitsuya knows that. He also definitely shouldn’t have left Hana alone. But seeing Kisaki all buddy-buddy with the old Leviathan gang members gives him an uneasiness that he can’t shake. So, he pretends to need the bathroom to excuse himself, just for a few moments to get some intel on what they might be up to. It’s for the good of Toman, that’s his justification for it. 

Luckily he’s in casual clothes today and not in his Toman jacket, so he blends in with the crowd easily as he maneuvers through the arcade towards Kisaki. Eventually, he finds a spot behind one of the arcade games that gives him coverage to remain hidden while within earshot of the group. 

They watch as one of the bigger guys shoots his toy gun towards the screen, an intense look on his face, the other boys surrounding him cheering him on in the process. Kisaki’s expression remains neutral, as always. They remain like this for a while longer, and Mitsuya starts to believe his efforts are useless. About ready to return to his girlfriend, he pauses when he hears something that piques his interest. 

“I bet Kisaki can’t wait to pull the trigger on Mikey, am I right?” One of the Leviathans nudges him playfully, pointing at the gun. 

Kisaki shoves him away aggressively, glaring at him. “Shut up. Don’t say such stupid things out in public.”

“Hey, there’s no one here but us, man! Chill!”

He grabs him by the scruff, fingers clenched tightly to his collar. “Oh? Is that what you think, you fucking imbecile? For your information, Hanma is greeting a fellow Toman brother right now.”

Struggling to speak with Kisaki’s knuckles against his throat, he croaks, “Who?”

“Takashi Mitsuya.”

At his name, Mitsuya leaves his spot, sprinting back to the prize room in a panic. He’s an absolute idiot to think that they didn’t notice him earlier. An even bigger idiot for leaving Hana alone, vulnerable to Hanma. But he has no idea who she is, right? There’s no way he could know. He vividly recalls the meeting from a few weeks ago. I guess I’ll just have to find out who Shimizu is myself. The subtle threat from his sleazy mouth. What could that asshole possibly want with her? Mitsuya is too afraid to find out. 

On his way, he catches Hanma exiting the prize room with that signature smug smirk. “Little Taka, fancy meeting you here.”

Mitsuya glares at him. “Hanma.”

He points his thumb behind him, over his shoulder. “Finally got a chance to meet your precious Shimizu. I can see why you’ve been hiding her from us. She’s a really good girl.”

Mitsuya’s fists are unbearably tight at his sides, trembling with anger. He’s on the verge of swinging, wanting to see his ugly mug all scrunched up from his fist. However, he manages to control himself. Through gritted teeth, he growls, “Leave her alone.”

Hanma holds both hands up to him in false surrender. “Hey, I was just being polite. Saw you earlier, enjoying your cute date, thought I’d say hello. Oh, and Kisaki sends his warm regards.”

The urge to inflict violence upon the man in front of him is getting more and more difficult to suppress with each slimy word that comes out of his mouth. He’s incapable of formulating a coherent response, body shaking with rage. He always planned to keep Toman away from her as much as possible, thinking that’d be her safest option. Now, she’s become acquainted to it and in the worst way possible. 

Hanma forces a chuckle. “You better get back to sweet Hana, now. Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting any longer or someone else might just come along and take her.” He shoves past him, hitting his shoulder hard with his own.

Before he can walk away, Mitsuya grabs him by the collar, tugging him close, voice low and threatening. “Don’t fucking talk about her. Don’t fucking look at her. Don’t even fucking think about her. Got it?”

Hanma laughs maniacally, clearly enjoying this side of Little Taka. “If you mind your business, we’ll mind ours.”

Mitsuya releases him, watching him disappear into the crowd of people without exchanging anymore words. He’s attempts to collect himself, returning to Hana, who stands at one of the corners, still inspecting the prizes. When she sees him, she smiles, seemingly unfazed. “Everything okay?”

For a moment, Mitsuya believes that all of it was a bluff. He slides his hand around her waist, pulling her in close. “Yeah. You?”

She rests her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. I met one of your Toman brothers. Shuji Hanma. He seems…nice.” There it is. The falter in her voice. The hesitation. The lie. 

Deciding that now is not the time to discuss it, Mitsuya nods, not saying anything else. 

[xenaxena]

Needy

— masterlist

— pairing: dean winchester x female reader

— summary: you go to dean’s room begging

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: smut, porn with little plot, p in v, cock warming, orgasm denial, dom dean sub reader, unprotected sex, i’m like 99.999% sure doing what’s described in this fic will give you a serious std so do not do this!

— want smut without plot? scroll down to —xxx—

— author’s note: my first time writing smut and publishing it, feedback is always welcome and appreciated! (seriously please let me know what you think! i can’t answer comments but i will read and appreciate each one! if you want to stay anonymous please don’t hesitate to send an ask! <3)

You shifted uncomfortably on your desk chair, unable to focus on the work in front of you. It was just general research, not really important.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself, slamming the book closed. You stood up, left your room, walked down the hall, and knocked on Dean’s door.

“Hey, Y/n,” he smiled when he opened the door. “Everything okay?”

“Really need your cock,” you blurted, eyes widening a bit when you realized you really said the exact words running through your head. “I mean- Uh-”

“Come on in, sweetheart,” he replied. He stepped aside so you walked into his room, he shut the door behind you. “Really need my cock, huh?” He smirked.

“Um…yeah.” You nodded a little. He backed you up into the wall, still smirking. He cupped you through your leggings.

“Fuck!” he groaned. “You’re fuckin’ soaked!” He squeezed your pussy, making you moan. “All for me?”

“All for you, just you Dean!” you exclaimed.

He pulled his hand away suddenly, you whined a little.

“Take off your clothes, wait for me in my bed,” he told you. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“Yes, sir,” You replied, he smirked again. He slapped your ass as you walked over to the bed.

***

He’d been in the shower nearly thirty minutes. He’d never taken that long, you were getting inpatient. You knew he was teasing you. Truthfully he’d been out of the shower nearly twenty minutes already, he’d just been sitting in the bathroom thinking of you. Thinking about how you looked right now - naked, waiting for him, needy. You were so fucking desperate and he knew it.

When he finally came back into his room, he was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

—xxx—

“You naked under there?” Dean asked, seeing you sitting in his bed with the blankets covering you. You nodded vigorously. “Good.”

He dropped the towel and you let out a gasp, squeezing your thighs together at the sight of his hard dick already leaking with pre-cum. He must’ve been needy too. His smirk just grew as he walked over to his bed before he tore back the covers and revealed your naked body.

“Mhm, gorgeous as ever, sweetheart,” he muttered, biting his lip and eyeing you up and down.

“Right back at you,” you replied. You went to grab his cock but he gripped your wrist and shook his head.

“No, no, you don’t touch me, I touch you.”

“Dean-” you groaned but he cut you off with a rough kiss to your lips. He climbed into bed, not breaking the kiss, and manhandled you until you were on top of him.

“Ready?” he asked, you nodded. “Words, sweetheart.”

“So ready Dean, fuck!”

He lifted your hips and slid you down onto him. Your velvet walls fluttered around him as you struggled to accept his size. Your breath had caught in your throat but when you bottomed out a loud groan erupted from your lips.

You waited a moment before starting to bouce up and down; your hands on his abdomen and keeping you balanced on his cock. He gripped your hips and slammed you down after you lifted.

“Don’t move,” he instructed, you furrowed your brows a little. He let go of your hips but you didn’t dare move.

“Dean?” you whimpered. He didn’t say anything, just watched as you got more and more revved up. “Can- Can I move now?”

He shook his head. “I never actually said I’d fuck you, did I?”

“Wh-What?” you asked, brows furrowing with worry as your core continued to ache with want.

He faked a huge yawn. “I’m actually pretty tired, let’s go to sleep.” He reached to the side and turned off the light.

“Dean!” You lightly smacked his chest.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! You can keep me warm all night,” he mocked, smirking. “Now, c’mon,” he pulled you down onto his chest, keeping himself nestled in you, “let’s get to sleep.”

“Dean, please!” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes.

“I promise I’ll fuck you raw in the morning, okay?” He stroked your back.

“O-Okay,” you whispered.

A few minutes passed and Dean was getting more and more frustrated. You were soaked and feeling your wetness drip onto his pelvis was driving him nuts. He suddenly lifted you off on him and tossed you to his side.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled when you let out a whine. “Just putting you on your side.” He slipped back in from behind you and you groaned.

***

You woke up before Dean; sore and starved for sex. You sat up and checked the clock to be sure it was in fact morning. You flipped the light on but that didn’t wake Dean up. You looked down at him; he was still hard, he was starved for sex too.

You positioned yourself above his hips, lined yourself up, and slid down his length with a loud moan.

Dean’s eyes flew open.

“Good morning!” he exclaimed. He pulled you down into a kiss before flipping you both over so he was on top. “Gonna make good on my promise,” he groaned, you let out a sound. “Words!”

“God fucking damnit Dean!” you exclaimed. “Fuck me!”

“Whatever you say.” He smirked. He watched your facial expressions as he thrust himself into you repeatedly.

You chanted his name like a prayer; as if he was your god and you were a mere witness to his glory.

He watched as your tits moved with each thrust, as your face contorted with pleasure, as your mouth hung open. You reached down to touch yourself but he slapped your hand away.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. He replaced your hand with his own, took your clit between his thumb and index finger, and tugged at it.

“Oh god, Dean!” You moaned as your eyes flung open to see his smirking face. “Fuck! You feel so good!”

“So fuckin’ beautiful when your like this,” he groaned. “All fucked out, taking me like a pro, moaning like a goddamn porn star!” His praises only made you moan louder. “That’s my girl!”

“I-I’m c-close! So close Dean,” you whined.

“Me too, baby, me too.” He nodded, rubbing your clit forcefully. Your eyes started rolling back, indicating you really were about to gush all over him. “Come with me.”

As if on cue, a wave of pleasure washed over you as a powerful orgasm ripped through your body. Dean let himself go, shooting ropes of cum into your tight cunt.

After a few moments, he rolled to the side as his limp cock slipped out of you.

“Best damn wake up call ever,” he breathed, causing you to smile. “If you ever feel like waking me up like that again, don’t you fuckin’ hesitate.”

“Right back at ya, Dean,” you replied.

[vxlentinescookies]

Ok, if you don't mind me I have an idea for another Cookie

Red Velvet's first meeting with Reader Cookie, here's some points

1. Red Velvet decided to take Chiffon for a walk, bad idea, Chiffon escapes and he has to to catch him

2. Chiffon disappeared I what looks to be a rose's bush maze, Rev Velvet decided to try and short cut THROUGH the bushes and ends up a bit cut at the end

3. He finds himself in a little heaven of a garden, colorful plants everywhere and a nice, little cabin

4. And then there's Chiffon, the little traitor just came here following the smell of the snacks made a simple cookie living peacefully there, and that now Chiffon was enjoying

5. Love at first sight, and BOI he becomes a shy, flustered mess now

→ ❛The Garden❜

→ Pairing ; Red Velvet Cookie x Reader → Quote ; ❛❛Oh, you mean this little guy?❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons → A/N ; Here you go! Sorry for the wait

It was a calm morning, he had taken Chiffon for a walk to enjoy nature and take a breath of fresh air,  when it happened, the little hound ran through the place quickly,  before swiftly running away from its owner, making Red Velvet worry and start chasing him. The hound was agile, just like how he trained them which didnt make things easier, especially as he promptly ended in a maze bigger than he was.

It’d take him a while to catch his breath, but meanwhile he did that, he’d walk through the maze. 

At first he was mesmerized, completely enamored with the sights he was seeing, but as he grew the more worried for his hound he’d chose the next totally logical option.

Thats right baby, hulk time!

Im jesting, but he would indeed use his weapon to ease his way through the maze, cutting his way through until he’d arrive at his destination.

Still, it dosent save him from a few cuts here and there in his dough, which prompts a mysterious voice to call him.

“Excuse me, are you ok?”

As he looked up after cleaning the leaves out of his body, he’d gaze into your eyes, a sight to behold, capturing him and taking him by surprise, not focusing on the garden nor the cabin, but you.

“Y-Yes…” He’d say, shyly out of the sudden “Just, been looking for my hound… Chiffon”

“Oh, you mean this little guy?”

It was love at first sight, looking at you like you were some kind of angel coming from the skies.

He’d then gaze at Chiffon, who was in your arms, eating one of the snacks you had made. 

Dosent even focus on the garden anymore, instead focusing on you for long moments, but not letting it be noticeable (you still notice)

Will leave after a few moments with Chiffon and some snacks, thinking heavily about what had just happened, truly, a sight to remember.

[theunderestimator-2]

I was sayin let me spin that record before I was even born -it's such a gamble when you get a face: Richard Hell DJing at the Mudd Club, NYC, ca. 1980/81.

"…The Mudd Club was simply impenetrable. Our South Street gang had all gone there from the moment it opened. We caught the initial outings of ex-Television-guitarist Richard Lloyd as well as the Feelies, in their revved-up, Velvets-infected majesty, and readings from William Burroughs, sitting behind his grey metal office desk. The DJ one night would be Cookie Mueller, the next night James Chance, the next night Richard Hell. …Traipsing back and forth between Tier 3 and the Mudd Club, sometimes multiple times a night, became a ritual for all of us no wave boys and girls. The rout from White Street to West Broadway –with a break at Dave’s Luncheonette once in a while- could be as social as the gigs themselves. Club hoppers would compare notes with those heading in the opposite direction, gleaning how dead or alive each spot was…” 'Sonic Life: A Memoir' by Thurston Moore.

(via)

[yeomies]

( ＞Д＜ )ゝ” — nami ❝ love is a kaleidoscope . . ❞ blk shifter & writer , writing for fun !! jan. 17 capricorn sun & libra moon . . ult bias ﾉ lee seokmin.

SOCIALS 𓂃 pinterest tiktok spotify disc : lcvescent

MASTERLIST SOON !! . . my requests are OPEN !!

KPOP + ANIME STAN !!

ults ୨ৎ. SEVENTEEN ( main ult !! ) , STRAY KIDS , NCT DREAM BOYNEXTDOOR && ENHYPEN. biases : vocal unit + jun , changbin , jisung + chenle , jaehyun & riki

CASUAL LISTENS : RED VELVET , ATEEZ , ARTMS , IVE , AESPA , TWS , ARrC and MORE !!

FAV ANIMES !! ATTACK ON TITAN , HAIKYU , TOKYO REV. , CHAINSAW MAN , NANA , MY HERO & MORE !!