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kulemiwrites · 1 month

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𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏| 𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚

Part: i of iii

Genre: Romance, Eventual Smut

Rating: 18+

Word count: 5.1k

Character(s): Akira Nishikiyama, fem!Reader

Warning: Do not read if the idea of an f/o having previous partners or you being the object of envy is upsetting to you. Also, this is not an established relationship fic. Too long for tumblr? Read on AO3

Nishikiyama is a regular at your club and he's quite popular amongst your coworkers. He tends to be at the center of all the hot gossip backstage and now, so are you. Word is, you're the latest notch on his bedpost and more than privy to his secret talent. Are the rumors true?

There were names that you became familiar with after spending any amount of time in the Kamurocho nightlife. Some were names of people to watch out for- bad news, dangerous, some of the last people in town you’d want to cross paths with. Some were known for simply throwing their weight around- flashing their cash, accompanied by muscle, having a pissy fit whenever they didn’t quite get their way. There were also the names of the guy or gal you went to when you really needed to know something or to have something done. Or perhaps they just had a bit of a… reputation– word got around about them. Depending on who you spoke to in town, Akira Nishikiyama could have fit into any one of those categories.

You’d never seen much of his violent side but you knew perfectly well how capable he was of it. He’d offered a hand to security once when a customer got a tad too “friendly” with you. He never quite threw a tantrum but he wasn’t above spilling a wad of cash on the podium to get ahead of the line when there was a wait. However, there was one thing you couldn’t deny without a shadow of a doubt: Nishikiyama had quite the reputation.

He wasn’t the most popular with men from what you could tell. Even the men he’d come into the club with seemed to give him a bit of a hard time. Sometimes he seemed to take it in stride. Other times, through the fury in his sharp brown glare you could see that there seemed to be a silent promise of a brawl outside once the session was over.

The women however, fell over themselves to get to him. You couldn’t say that you didn’t see the appeal. He was handsome– beyond handsome, sometimes when you sat with him and watched him lower his defenses enough to smile and laugh, he was quite beautiful even. His hair had more volume than some of the girls in the dressing room. He was no slouch either. Every single one of his suits were designer– you didn’t know which designers but after being in this business for long enough, you could tell the difference between a tailored, brand name suit and a shoddy, discount shop suit trying to pass itself off as one. There was never even a speck of dirt on his shiny leather shoes.

And he always smelled absolutely divine-- Fresh. Woody. Something, something, sensual masculinity. You didn’t know the right words but it alone was captivating. Even you could find yourself lost in that aroma and unconsciously bow over hoping for more.

There was a draw to him.

However, it wasn’t just his good looks that had the girls dying to swarm him like flies to honey. He had charm, too. It was hard to miss, especially when he routinely surrounded himself with charmless buffoons.

He stood out and he made it seem effortless.

Nishikiyama had been your regular for a year, at least. Perhaps you’d been seeing him for longer but you only decided to start paying attention to how often he would request you when your coworkers began to complain. When he first began visiting the club, infrequently, every couple months or so, he’d take any girl he’d been sat with but after seeing you a few times, he seemed to increase his visits– how often he saw you.

He’d begun to show up about once or twice a week, each time with a different ensemble of men in his entourage– familiar faces but never quite the exact same group. If he was the first to arrive, which he typically was, you were requested. He’d take no one else. It mattered none to him that you were busy. If he couldn’t bri– pay to have you reassigned from whoever you were serving originally, he’d take a placeholder and wait until you were available. Either way, he’d see you before the night was over.

He wasn’t the most patient about it but still, he’d wait, craning his neck around the room until you made your way over to him.

This behavior of his had begun to cause a bit of a stir in the dressing room and in the beginning you’d done your best to ignore it but you were now at your wits end.

There were…rumors about Akira Nishikiyama and many of them circulated in the dressing room then made their way out into the streets of Kamurocho. Then, vice versa. It wasn’t as if you wanted to hear them. You never even asked but the information always managed to find its way to you somehow; be it an overheard conversation or someone giddily whispering over your shoulder what they’d just “found out”. In their minds, they thought it to be vital information for you.

After all, you were allegedly Nishikiyama’s “favorite”.

Some of the rumors were silly, nothing that anyone should have bothered to concern themselves with. Things like: A friend of a friend had given him her number and he’d never called her! What a jerk, right? Or, he’d dated some college girl a few summers ago and then suddenly broke it off and ever since she’d been telling everyone that she wants him back. Whose business was that anyway? Then, there were other things you would hear, that, even though you pretended not to care, it did perk your ears juuust a little.

There was a hostess that used to work with you a couple months ago who quit- reasons unknown. Word in the dressing room was that they had a bit of a “thing” together– a one night stand. She wouldn’t stop bringing it up whenever he showed up and requested you instead of her. Essentially, every time he showed up... You supposed it was meant to make you jealous but in reality, it only made you question why he’d go after such a bratty girl to begin with.

You questioned his taste, sure, but, jealous? Of course not.

You had another coworker who alleged to have hooked up with him too but she’d only mentioned it once or twice after going out drinking with the others after work. The rest did the legwork for her.

At the risk of making the man sound a tad promiscuous, there were quite a few different stories going around about him. All from different women. And although the stories all started differently, they typically ended the same way: Nishikiyama-kun went down on me and gave me the best orgasm of my life.

Again, it wasn’t as if you wanted to know these things but hearing that same conclusion time and time again did make you slightly curious. You had to admit. Could he really be that good? Then, you’d mentally kick yourself anytime you found the thought circulating in your mind. He was your regular– you shouldn’t be entertaining such thoughts even in absolute jest.

One had to maintain a level of professionalism here.

His notoriety amongst the ladies and his proclivity for you, though, had begun to make work a little unbearable. Where you once fell under the radar, you were now under the spotlight– right there with Nishikiyama and his wagging tongue. The gossip had gone from simply being about him and various faceless women in town to being about you, specifically.

And so, you became an object of resentment and envy.

In their minds, if you’d been hooking up with the man after hours, why not just come clean like the others? Also, you were raking it in when he stopped by! That had to go against some sort of guideline. You had to answer to managers on multiple occasions that, no, you were not having casual sex with a customer and yes, you did understand that went against club policy. The ladies couldn’t understand why the hell he would be giving you so much attention if you weren’t selling the goods on the side. You knew deep down the managers didn’t really care as it was bringing in a hefty, steady flow of cash but they were posturing to keep the others happy.

You got it from both ends and it pissed you off immensely because there wasn’t the slightest bit of truth to any of it.

In fact, the infamous “Nishikiyama-kun~” hadn’t come on to you once since he’d started requesting you all that time ago. Things were no different with him than they were with the rest of your customers and you were sure that your coworkers knew that as they tended to stand around and seethe and stare as you worked if they weren’t paired off with you.

You were the friendly hostess– the one that customers could count on to help cheer them up after a rough day. The listening ear, the shoulder to cry on. You were the one who lifted their spirits and made them laugh. That was your role. You weren’t quite equipped to play the seductress that they were all accusing you of being. Whenever your clients had their moods lifted high enough and were leaning in for something a little more playful, or romantic in nature, you called in reinforcements.

Even so, he’d always seemed to go at your pace. Never once have you ever had to pass him off to someone else and it sort of begged the question: What gives? If he was such a casanova picking up girls here and over yonder, why the hell hasn’t he ever tried anything with you? Were you not his type or something? It wasn’t as if you wanted him to hit on you– Gosh, anything but! But…

Well, you’d at least like the courtesy of shooting him down.

After everything you’d heard about the guy from the others, you thought, well, it’d just be polite!

“______!” the floor manager shouted your name, startling you as you reapplied your lipstick in the mirror.

The crimson had smeared past your lip line and down your chin. You looked up at him, making cold eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. You could see him biting back a smile as he pressed his palms together.

“Yeah?”

“One of your regulars is here to see you,” he said.

You cleaned the smeared lipstick, continuing to look up at him. “Alright, who is it?” But you didn’t really need to ask, you had a hunch.

“Nishikiyama-sama.” he said curtly.

“I see.” you said, fixing the neckline of your dress. “Let him know I’ll be out in a bit.”

The man bowed, “Of course.”

The woman at the vanity next to yours, a veteran at the club, shot you a dirty look. “‘Of course’.” she echoed.

You were so exhausted with the catty attitudes but you tried to at least respect the hierarchy of the place, as much as it pained you. So, you lifted yourself from the stool to excuse yourself and meet with your client. Before turning, you scanned your vanity for things that he’d previously gifted you with and decided on wearing them instead. So, you swapped the emerald and gold necklace for the pearl pendant he’d brought you last week. You spritzed yourself with the perfume from last month and slipped on the bracelet from the beginning of it all. You passed over your reflection one last time before heading toward the velvet curtains.

Perhaps it was a little embarrassing to say but Nishiki felt at home whenever he’d come to this place. The drinks were a bit watered down and overpriced but the food wasn’t bad and the service was phenomenal. He didn’t always feel that way though. In fact, it took more than a few tries to get it right and usually, he gave up on a place when it failed to satisfy him the first time. After all, every 10 paces, there’s another hostess club with the same damn drink menu with the same damn food with the same damn tropes of women to pawn off to the men willing to waste their time and money.

But not every single one of those clubs had a girl like you in it.

To say you were cute would have been an absolute understatement but that wasn’t what kept him coming back. Kamurocho was the land of beautiful women. It was the way you did your job. You suspected that he had money– he saw you size him up when you first greeted him but you never tried to upsell him on anything. If you were attracted to him, he sure as hell couldn’t tell. You never pushed yourself up on him or puffed out your chest, grabbed onto him or played in his hair like the treatment he’s used to at these sorts of places. You simply filled his drink, kept him company and looked absolutely stunning doing it.

Sometimes, you helped him relax– other times, you were the reason that he couldn’t but he’d never let you see him sweat…

Sure, he did have nights when he wanted to go out and have a cute girl go all out flirting with him every once in a while but he had other places for that. This place was where he went to take it easy or schmooze or both and he’d sing its praises (and yours) to anyone that’d listen. Hence why he brought so many people here– that and, he did have days where… and he couldn’t explain it but he just had a strong desire to hear your voice and see you, admire your smile and laugh, eyes and when you wouldn’t notice, your figure.

Tonight was one of those nights, the desire to just have you near him was so unbelievably strong but he feared his party this evening wasn’t the most hometrained. They just might’ve blown his cover if he wasn’t careful enough.

He sat back against the teal, chenille banquette, arms stretched along the back while his right leg crossed loosely over the left, foot rocking above his knee. He’d been smirking as his two old buddies from middle school debated inappropriately about what they would and wouldn’t do in bed. He reached forward and grabbed his lit cigarette from the ashtray as the conversation pivoted to oral sex. These guys were absolute goobers with no game at all. He hoped they’d stop by the time the girls arrived to keep them company or else they’d just start telling on themselves.

This should be good. He thought, right eye narrowing a bit as he softly hollowed his cheeks on inhale.

“I just don’t get how guys can stomach it for that long. A couple of licks and I’m over it.” his buddy Miura with a wife and two kids said.

Muira was a loyal friend but he wasn’t so much as a husband and to hear he was also a selfish lover, Nishiki could see why things turned out the way they did. He released his smoke and chuckled.

“‘A couple licks’?” he repeated incredulously.

His other friend, Takagi, folded his arm over his rounded belly and smiled proudly, “I do just enough to get ‘em wet then I stick it in.”

Nishiki’s eyes widened. He shook his head as he rubbed at his bottom lip with his cigarette wielding hand. “You guys are horrific. I don’t even want to imagine the horror stories those poor girls are going back and telling their friends about you.”

Miura clicked his tongue, “Who cares what stories they tell. I know what really happened!”

Nishiki raised a brow at his friend and teased, “What, that you didn’t make them cum?”

“That’s not true!” the man denied, his face quickly growing red. “I’ve made loads of ladies cum! I always make them cum! Every single one of them!”

“Somehow I doubt that, Mr. Two Licks I’m Out.” Nishiki laughed.

Takagi rested his arms on his knees and stared at their friend with a look of concern. “Say, Miura, why you making it sound like you get so much pussy or somethin’ anyway? I’m really thinkin’ of tellin’ your wife at this point. I mean, think of the kids.”

“She’s the one that started screwin’ that damn rice farmer!”

“Awww.” Nishiki and Takagi said in false sympathy. Muira had long forgotten he’d drunkenly admitted to his wife finding out about his regular cheating and agreeing to stay together for the sake of the kids but she would be stepping out in the meantime. Neither of them felt bad for him.

Great friend, horrible husband.

Your voice, as lovely as the last he’d heard it– two nights ago to be exact, cut into his banter with his friends and he tried to make sure he wasn’t too responsive when he turned to meet it. He was glad you didn’t have a stethoscope attached to his chest or otherwise you’d hear his heart playing blast beats.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” you chirped, your hands clasped in between your thighs as you bowed deeply.

You were wearing that cute, knee length dress you’d just bought last week. He remembered you being so excited about it when you described it to him. He was subtle about his eyes when they scanned you from top to bottom before you swiped your pretty, manicured hands beneath your perfect ass to pull your dress taut before taking your usual seat beside him. He softly took his bottom lip in between his teeth and tilted his head to the side as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Fuck, you looked amazing tonight. You looked amazing every night but tonight you had a certain glow about you. He could just eat you up…

Figuratively, of course.

“It’s alright.” he said, finally releasing his lip and noting that a couple of unfortunate girls have paired off with his friends. “You’re a popular girl. That’s what I get for going after the best in the house, right?”

You gave him a polite smile and fumbled with your hands which were still in your lap as your eyes darted in between your coworkers. You’d never gone for flattery but usually you’d at least brush him off with a laugh. Instead, he sensed tension and this wasn’t the first time.

He removed his arms from behind the booth, positioning his clasped hands into the lap of his spread legs. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it just that he was compelled to do it.

“So, Nish–”

“By the way–”

You both spoke, interrupting one another. You giggled, so precious, then offered him the floor. Nishiki searched your face before leaning in, you smelled amazing. Familiar. He knew that he’d smelled this scent before but this wasn’t what you typically smelled like. At least, he didn’t remember you smelling like this the other night. He should have remembered. When did you change perfumes? Wait, was this the one he’d gotten you and if so, why did it smell better now than when he smelled it at the store?

“Nishikiyama-san?” you said, when he continued to subtly hover over to you saying nothing. “Are you okay?”

Shit. He needed to get himself together. He was better than this.

“Sorry, I just noticed that you…” he mumbled, rubbing the tip of his nose as he realized he was at risk of losing his ‘flying under the radar’ game with a comment like this. “smell different.”

He watched you beam as you tucked your chin into your shoulder, bringing your manicured fingers to your chest, “You noticed! I didn’t think you would.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” he asked, folding his arms across his own chest playfully. You were the only damn girl in the place he paid any attention to. He’d notice if you plucked/waxed your eyebrows, if you dyed your hair or even if the color painted on your fucking toes was different since he’d last saw you.

You were his favorite.

You teased your hair, eyes dancing between his, “I don’t know. Most guys give us gifts and don’t remember that they’ve given them to us. Some people give gifts just to win favor or out of feelings of obligation– Or shut certain people up.”

Your voice lowered, and you rocked yourself in his direction to whisper that last part. He laughed. He usually hated workplace gossip when he went to these places but he’d listen to you tell him who was getting new tatami mats for their house if that’s what you had on your chest that day.

Speaking of chests, it wasn’t lost on him that your neckline was sort of plunging. You’d had some of the most gorgeous skin that he’d ever seen, amongst other things– except, he’s not supposed to be seeing it. If he’d been playing this properly, you had no inkling that he was even into you. There’d be no reason for you to suspect that the reason that the sweat beading around his hairline had likely come from the stress of avoiding any undue glances at the valley of your breasts and not the heat of the building.

“You think I don’t notice things, huh?”

He lost.

He snuck a peek but it was perfect– as were you, by the way.

“I got you that necklace, didn’t I?” he asked rhetorically, eyeing the necklace and absolutely nothing else. “Let’s see…”

You hid your folded hands in your lap once again and he reached delicately for the decorated forearm.

“That bracelet….”

You gasped dramatically.

“C’mon, I point that out every time you wear it…” he said, attempting to fight off the sheepish feeling that had been creeping up on him. “The perfume is new, though.”

“That’s because I wore it for the first time just for you tonight.”

His heart skipped a couple of beats and his ears rang. He had to look away. He didn’t really care where his gaze fell but he wanted to make sure he appeared as disinterested as possible. Fuck. The room was spinning, though. He scanned his friends who had long since forgotten his existence just as he’d forgotten theirs. He half rolled his head to crack his neck then stretched his arms back out onto the booth as he called to his friends.

“Miura, Takagi. We’ve been sitting here a while.” he said. “I say we order something.”

“You're paying right, Nishikiyama?” Miura laughed then tapped his hostess with his elbow. “Sweetheart, bring me the most expensive shit you got!”

When he looked at you, you went into your default, robotic menu presentation. He hated doing what he’d just done but he was never sure what to make of the things you said. He was sure you said sweet things like that to any man that came in and gave you gifts. You weren’t the only one he’d given a gift to either but you were the only one that made him feel things when he saw them again– the only one he put thought into while shopping for.

He lowered the menu in your hands and smiled, “You know what I like. Take care of me, yeah?”

You nodded, then turned to raise your hand to call over a server.

Nishiki pulled open the pocket of his maroon jacket to retrieve his pack of cigarettes and lighter then watched as you placed his usual order. He should’ve waited to let you light it for him but he’d gone into a trance. Even when doing something as simple as asking for liquor and greasy food, you looked like a divine being. Simply otherworldly. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off and had been off for some time now.

He blew out a puff of smoke that obscured his view of your side profile and once you were facing him again, it cleared and he could see it clear as day.

There was a crack in your transcendence.

What were you in need of?

How could he relieve you?

—

The usual 90 minute session plus extra hour extension that Nishiki tended to get with you flew by as it always did. His friends had left 30 minutes earlier- Miura, to get back to the wife and kids and Takagi to not risk cutting it close for the last train of the evening. So, there was no longer any need for the other two hostesses that accompanied you during the session. That just left him to spend the remainder of the time alone with you but he had no complaints about that.

He contemplated all evening when or even if, he should bring it up especially since he wasn’t certain at the time. Now that there was no one left but the two of you, it was clear as day. When your coworkers were there, you seemed quite anxious. You seemed to go into a quiet panic when he’d say certain things to you, too– which were never bad but if he had to wager, you must have been worried about them being taken out of context. Now that the girls were gone, you seemed calmer albeit still a bit tense.

He couldn’t just leave it alone.

He wasn’t sure what was going on but he suspected this place had much to do with it. He’d whisk you away if he could, even if only for one night.

“Say,” he said, placing his empty, sweating glass onto the table of chaos. “Where do you take up after hours anyway?”

Your confused expression was one of your cutest ones but he was sure his question was quite clear. You could fool anyone else but he wouldn’t let you try it with him.

“You’ve told me about your hobbies and stuff but you’ve never really told me what you like to do after work. How do you unwind?”

“Uh…” you trailed off and nothing else followed.

You shared a lot about yourself but there tended to be many things that you seemed to prefer to keep private. He wanted to know as much as there was to know about you. He wished that you would become an open book and show him all of your pages, even the unrefined, ripped and scratched out ones that you hid from everyone else.

“Don’t tell me you go home and do nothing?” he teased. “You know, your coworkers go out to hit the bars and clubs right after their shifts are done.”

You stared at him in silence for a moment too long then muttered, “Of course you would know.” as you looked away.

Something in that expression worried him. This time, he couldn’t even hide it if he wanted to. He felt his brows twitch together as he turned toward you on the banquette, resting his forearms on his knees. What the fuck has he done now?

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged, rolling your fingers over your thumb appearing indifferent. “I’ve heard about you…”

Oh. That. He could almost laugh but he didn’t.

He had been your regular for a year and 4 months, occasional client a couple times before that and this is only now coming up? It made his lips curl, his ears perk and his mouth salivate. What was it to you anyway?

What, did you want to know if the rumors were true too?

“Yeah?” he tried his best to contain his smile and so, he licked his lips instead. “And? Tell me… What am I famous for?”

He wanted so badly to tease you for the way your eyes popped then averted. He could feel the heat rising from you just from where he sat. Anywhere else, he might’ve given you a really hard time. But you were working, after all and he wasn’t sure if you realized it but, you two seemingly had an audience of employees pretending to be busy.

“The girls say that you’ve invited them out to hook up and never call them back or something.”

Or something, but something told him you knew the whole story. Cute.

“That’s the scoop, huh? So, I’m a hostess hopper, then?” He tightened his lips as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Alright, well. Do you want the truth or a lie?”

You scrunched your nose up at him, “I don't care to know your business but if I did, obviously I’d want the truth. What kind of question is that?”

His eyes scanned the room, noting your coworkers staring not-so-subtly as he rubbed his back against the teal seating, “I did recognize at least two girls here that I’ve been with before.”

“‘At least’?”

He nodded, tilting his head as he looked at you with a tired expression. “The thing is though, I didn’t realize they worked here until after it happened. It’s not as if I found them here and asked them out– They just so happened to be where I was. We talked. One thing lead to another–”

You waved a dismissive hand at him, letting him know that he was giving more information than you needed and wanted. “I think I get the jist. I know how hook-ups work, Nishikiyama-san.”

Nishiki straightened his posture and looked you square in the eye. “Just know that I never met them here and invited them out anywhere.”

“You know, Nishikiyama-san, I’m not sure that I really care all that much…” you said scratching your temple. “I’m not even sure why you’re telling me this.”

He had a buzz that helped him gather the confidence to do what he was about to do but he could feel it leaving him as soon his heart began to pound against his chest again.

“Because I want you to understand the difference when I tell you that I won’t pressure you, but if you’re looking for a change of pace once you��re done for the night…” he began, reaching into his wallet to retrieve a business card with an address, number and someone else’s name on it. “I recommend this bar. It’s run by a friend of mine. It’s a really nice place to unwind– never gets crowded. I’ll be headed there some time after this.”

He handed you the card and when you grabbed the other end of it, he continued to hold his end as he scanned your face. “This is what it looks like when I actually invite someone out.”

“Um,” you started. “I’m not promising that I’ll be there but–”

You’re nervous and you’re questioning his intentions. He can see it in your eyes.

“Excuse me sir but your session extension has expired.” a server interrupted but Nishiki ignored him. This was far more important.

“You’ll think about it?” he asked, finally releasing the card with a hopeful smile.

You smiled one final time before standing up out of your seat to do your session closing. “I’ll think about it.”

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants and nodded. “That’s all a guy could hope for.”

Part 2

Please do not reupload/repost/rewrite but reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Thank you for reading!

#akira nishikiyama #nishikiyama akira #akira nishikiyama x reader #nishikiyama akira x reader #boy oh boy am i rusty #i have been fighting for my life with this fic LMAO #this one isn't meant to be deep or anything- it's just lighthearted fun! with a hint of work stress #bc i love writing about my faves saving me from work stress #fun fact: this fic happened due to my intentions of rewriting of a one paragraph smutty headcanon #that literally no one but me was meant to see LMAOOO WELP the rewrite got outta control now here we are #also- if you read kuro shiro you might notice a thing or two<3 im a sloot for referencing my own work kjdhfshf #it's all connected~

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