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rizsu · 3 months

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nonsensical questions — you must answer! tokyo revengers, jujutsu kaisen.

⤹ list ﹕ s. shinichiro + i. wakasa | f. toji + r. sukuna.

being a father means your child is either gonna humble you or throw questions only the divine can answer.

+ extra. for toji's part megumi's an older brother 😝

SHINICHIRO SANO — “well...!”

“daddy, if the sun went boom what would you do?”

curiousity is a child's best friend. when his son asks a question, the boy will not stop until he gets his answer.

curiousity, on the other hand, is not a father's best friend. shinichiro's more experienced than his five-year-old, he's had his fair share of ‘curiousity killed the cat’ moments.

as if shaping the mangoes into star-shaped pieces wasn't enough for him, he just had to spice it up with a triple question-mark (???) question and his cute actions.

the little one, or as shinichiro calls him, mini shini, was the one who introduced the question. he stretched out both arms and drew an imaginary circle in the air to reenact the sun going “boom!”

a sweat-bead trickles down shinichiro's neck. he swallows hard. if he dares to answer the question wrong, it'll only result in a challenging battle to make him eat the fruit. he ponders on the question, what would he do if the sun truly went boom?

die? no, that's too intense.

stop it? a power he wish he had.

tell the sun “don't do that!”? sounds like a perfect answer.

shinichiro places the star-shaped cutter down, lifting the boy onto the countertop. stabbing one of the many mango pieces with the child's fork, he imitates the sound of an airplane, swirling the fork in a bee-line before it lands in his son's mouth.

the action sends the younger one into a fit of giggles. he happily chews on the fruit, kicking his dangling feet back-and-forth.

“and as for your question,” shinichiro begins, “i'll tell the sun to not go boom-boom before it booms.”

he ends the sentence with a smile, gearing up the fork for another airplane run.

his son, however, doesn't return the excitement. instead, he tilts his head, slows the pace of his kicking, and questions his father, “but the sun is all the way up there. you're down here. how would that work?”

shinichiro smiles ear-to-ear, finding the genuine curiousity of his son amusing. he uses his free hand to ruffle the boy's hair, feeding him the fruit as he speaks, “because i'm your dad!”

WAKASA IMAUSHI — “realistically speaking–”

the backyard, wakasa, his toddler, a bucket of pink paint with a paintbrush, and a kid-sized vanity. it's finally daddy-daughter playtime and his little girl is energized and ready! after her well deserved nap, she's been more bouncy than ever. her steps have little jumps to it, her now messy pigtails still bounce with her, and her painted palms are evidence of the happiness.

as soon as the toddler woke up, she stared into nothingness to regain her senses. then, she immediately made it her mission to run to her dad.

“papa! papa!” was the only word heard throughout the hallways alongside her footsteps. it didn't take her any longer than a minute to find her father situated on the hammock outside.

she stopped in her tracks halfway there, raising a finger up to her mouth. it's an action she does whenever she's making a decision. wakasa looks peaceful; should she go to him or go back? of course, she goes to her dad!

when she arrived next to him, she stood on the tip of her toes to see inside the hammock. there he is, peaceful with his eyes closed. the slumber — or whatever he's doing — doesn't last for long. his newly found father instincts have been tickled and tingled. he sensed the presence of his daughter.

wakasa opened his eyes, greeting his daughter with a soft smile and lifting her onto him.

“slept well?” he asked, running his hand on top of her head in attempts to smoothen the stray hair strands.

“mhm, i did!” she nods.

“me too, princess,” he mumbles, yawning after the sentence.

the two sit in silence, enjoying the perfect weather.

toddlers aren't experts at sitting for too long. soon, she got bored and jumped off her dad's lap.

“papa, can i have a unicorn?” she pouts, patting her hands on his arm.

wakasa coughs. he accidentally choked on his saliva after hearing such a question. unicorns aren't real, and he's not going to rent a horse. it's not the same — his baby would be disappointed!

“an’ i want it to paint my table pink!” she disrupts his thoughts, adding another sentence to her previous one.

“i'm sorry princess. i can't get you a unicorn, but i can paint your table pink,” he breaks the news to her, immediately following up with a suggestion. although the unicorn won't be in the equation, the pink table will, and that's more than enough for her!

and that's the reason as to why they're surrounding her vanity with a bucket of pink paint. wakasa took his time to drag the vanity out, and his princess took her time to bring the paintbrush!

channeling his inner painter skills, he got to work as soon as she brought the brush. a little swish and swash of the brush and her vanity was eighty-percent finished. even though she lacked a brush, it didn't stop her from dipping her hands into the paint and using that as her brush. a bit of a mess, but nothing will ever get in between daddy-daughter time!

TOJI FUSHIGURO — “*lost the war and the battle*”

toji experienced more in emotions today than he's ever had in his entire life. whether it's the five stages of grief or exhaustion, he felt it all. his three-year-old daughter made sure to run her father's pockets and his mind dry. what was supposed to be a monthly home restocking run ended up being an expensive whatever-fits-in-the-cart-daddy-buys-it run. megumi got himself two lego sets, and the baby girl got herself a dollhouse.

don't be fooled; it's not just any regular dollhouse. it's a walk-in, spacious, pastel pink and white with purple accents dollhouse. toji knew the moment she stopped in her tracks with her mouth agape his card would end up maxed out.

he gulped, hoping that she doesn't turn around to him. during toji's younger days, if he didn't want to deal with something he'd pretend he doesn't see it. if he can't see it, the problem does not exist. but now, he's a father — he has duties!

as the younger sister by four years, megumi's bound to do as his sister says. the seven-year-old boy made sure to be his sister's knight the very minute she came into the world. he was in love, a little jealous, and absolutely adored her. if she wanted that dollhouse, he'd back her up!

“daddy—”

“not today, princess. not today.”

not today? such words are nonexistent in her world. something must be wrong with her father. she turns around, walking up to him with her arms stretched out. toji follows suit, bending over to lift her.

she squints at him, he pretends to not notice, megumi busies himself with his toy car while imitating the sounds of a sports car.

“i wan’ the dolly house!” she pouts, using one hand to repeatedly pat on his chest and the other pointing at the dollhouse in view.

“you can't have it today,” he explains, shooting her a small smile that has a double meaning.

again, she doesn't get it. once a child is confused, they begin using a word they won't stop using.

“why?”

“'cause i said so.”

“why?” she tilts her head.

“not today, sweetie,” he tilts his head.

“but why?” she raises an eyebrow.

toji begins to feel the stress creeping in, “because—”

“i can put my toys back if it's too much,” megumi intervenes, he's been watching them for a minute now. he, too, wants the dollhouse, but he won't say that! it's not in line with his knight image.

“no, meg'. leave it in there,” he rejects his son's offer. toji's been strong on letting megumi know he mustn't sacrifice his wants for others... and it'll be unfair if he had to put his toys back.

this almost set the three-year-old off — she wants that dollhouse! seeing that megumi's toys fit in the trolley, maybe she can break down the dollhouse and fit it in the trolley too.

“daddy, break the dolly house ‘nd put it in the trolley!” she increases the pace of the hand patting on his chest. she had a bright idea and she's going to stick to it.

toji goes silent. the idea isn't the smartest, but he felt his proud dad senses tingle. his second baby had a suggestion! an actual one! and she didn't use “why” this time!

giving in he walked towards to house, still against it but what can he do in the faces of his children? they're his weakness. he didn't win this time, but he'll win next time. this counts as the fifty-seventh lost.

SUKUNA RYOMEN — “apparently i do not have rights.”

“papa, let's play dress up.”

sukuna doesn't know if he's offended or proud. instead of a question, he was met with a statement. there weren't any greetings, any hugs, just nothing but a statement. she walked in with business! slowly, but surely, she's showing signs that she's taking after him and he's never been more proud.

however, such proudness doesn't mean he's going to twinkle and sprinkle. he's a man and will continue to look like it — not.

who told sukuna he had freedom of speech? what made him think his little carbon copy wasn't going to drag him? with her two hands securing their grip on his wrist, she walked backwards to her room. the only time sukuna accepts defeat is when he's face-to-face with her. he's a gun, but she's a bomb. it is evident that he's overpowered by her.

the moment he entered her room, he was met with instant sparkles and positivity. he knew he was about to be princess-fied and there's unfortunately nothing that can be done.

she sits him down on her stool. then, she grabs her tiara, standing on her tiptoes to place it on his hair. she gathers her toy makeup and her glitter-included perfume. sukuna's right eye twitches; he can feel the items laughing at him.

“it's makeup time!” she announces, opening the palette of six bright colours.

she dabs her finger in the purple eyeshadow. making sure there's enough pigment, she swipes it over on to his eyelids. one layer done, another to go. this time she goes in with blue just below his eyebrows. satisfied with the eyeshadow, she goes in with white in the middle to blend the colours. a perfect mix!

the next step is the blush. she whips out the blush, using three fingers to apply it this time. she repeats until she's satisfied with the amount. sukuna's cheeks are as rosy as a rose!

the last item is the lipgloss. it's also his most dreaded one. he despises the way the lipgloss feels on his lips — it's far too sticky for his liking! he'd rather use oil. in sad attempts to soften the stickyness, sukuna licks his lips.

she squeezes the tube until the gloss overflows. it's just the right amount to apply on and over his lips. her hands are a little shaky, but she's still a good makeup artist!

sukuna has now been princess-fied. due to his behaviour at her studio, she gives him a star sticker.

“papa, you're pretty now!” she compliments, clapping her hands at her creation.

sukuna took the compliment another way. was he not pretty before? did that mean she found him visually troubled? maybe she doesn't — kids are honest people, and she doesn't know how to lie yet.

#tokyo revengers fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #shinichiro sano fluff #wakasa imaushi fluff #toji fushiguro fluff #sukuna ryomen fluff #jjk drabbles #tr drabbles #jjk x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #shinichiro x reader #wakasa x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader

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ecplipwze · 4 months

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..…………text w ur favs!…………

Toge inumaki, Itadori Yuuji, chifuyu Matsuno, shinichiro Sano, Keisuke Baji, Ran haitani, Mikey sano, kaeya alberich, arataki itto, richter Belmont, Hector, Trevor Belmont, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Ranpo Edogawa, Nikolai Gogol, Ace Trappola, Deuce spade, Rook hunt, Idia shroud, kalim

Gojo Satoru, Todo aoi, mahito, hanma shuji, taiju, wakasa imaushi, izana, childe, Heizou, Olrox, reiner braun, eren yeager, fyodor, Jade & Floyd, Vil schoenheit, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, Riddle Rosehearts, cater diamond, Ruggi bucchi

Inumaki toge, kazuha, cyno, atsushi nakajima, Michizō Tachihara, Ango Sakaguchi, porco, colt, kisaki tetta, rindou haitani, sanzu haruchiyo, probably also cater diamond, jamil

Im so tired 💤💤

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ziinesso · 10 months

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He was one of your older brother's friends. The one you loved.

"My little Y/N, how are you?"

Every Saturday, he would come to pick up your brother. He would arrive unexpectedly, politely smiling at your parents before pinching your arm as a greeting. He would playfully tease you until interrupted by your brother's arrival. Then, he had to leave. But never without one last joke. One last wink.

"Stop calling me that. I'm not a child anymore."

These little moments fueled what you had classified as a disillusionment. He was much too old. Much too cool. Much too charming. He was too much. He was perfect.

"I'm well aware of that, love. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I should hurry."

In the evening, he would come back to drop off your brother. He always got out of his car to greet your family again. He took his time, making himself comfortable. He would pass through the kitchen to have a drink. He passed through the kitchen because he knew you would be there. A playful pinch on your arm. His eyes filled with mischief, he would ask you about your day, always on the lookout for a remark to make you smile, to make you blush.

"For what?"

He would lean slightly on the kitchen counter, bringing his face closer to yours. From that distance, you could admire that sparkle in his eyes. From that distance, he could admire that same sparkle in your eyes. That glimmer. That spark that reflected your bond.

"I don't want some kid stealing you from me. We wouldn’t want that, right my little Y/N?"

He was one of your older brother's friends. The one who loved you.

- wakasa, ran (tr) ; suna, kuroo (hq) ; geto (jjk) ; ace (op)

#sso.drabble #wakasa x reader #ran x reader #suna x reader #kuroo x reader #geto x reader #ace x reader #tokyo rev x reader #haikyuu x reader #jjk x reader #one piece x reader

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wakasaz · 8 months

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DILF

♡Pairing: Wakasa Imaushi x Afab!reader

♡Summary: Wakasa can't keep his hands off his new babysitter.

♡Based on this

♡WC: 4.6k

♡TW: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, pet names, oral, fingering, pregnancy, absent parent, gang leader Wakasa, Club owner Wakasa. Use of yn but only a few times. I think that's everything but I probably forgot something.

♡A/N: All characters are 21+, not proofread, I love single Father wakasa so much I had to make a whole fic for it.

"Get out. Just get out." Wakasa says to the fifth person he has interviewed today. He didn't think finding someone to care for his daughter while he is out would be this hard. Truth is he didn't even want to find anyone to watch her, but Benkei talked him into it. What was so wrong with taking her to "work" with him. He didn't take her anywhere dangerous, and he made sure whoever was around her could be trusted. His men knew that they needed to keep her safe. Of course, though he listened to Benkei. He was tired of hearing the taller male complain about how dangerous it was. As if Wakasa would allow anyone to hurt her. No one crossed him and if they did, they knew they signed their death certificate.

Letting out a sigh as he turns his back to the girl and pinches the bridge of his nose he walks to get himself a drink. "Please, just go" He says again. He can hear sniffling. He made her cry but he didn't care. The girl was an idiot. No way in hell was she going to even be in the same room as his daughter. Everyone he has interviewed so far has been an idiot. He hasn't found one person he sees capable of caring for the most important girl in his life. He's been interviewing people for days and he swears they get worse and worse each time.

Wakasa never wanted to be a father. He didn't think he would be good at it. He knew fighting and fucking. He didn't know how to be soft. He couldn't be soft. He was the white leopard, feared all around Japan. Of course all of that changed the moment he laid eyes on what he could only describe as the most beautiful and precise baby he has ever seen. No, Wakasa didn't want to be a father, but he took the role seriously and over time he wondered how he lived his whole life without this girl in it.

On top of not wanting to be a parent he also didn't want to be a single parent. But he was thrown into that all too quickly. The woman he got pregnant was just a casual hook up. They fucked a few times but he was fucking other women as well. Wakasa didn't even know she was pregnant. She stopped returning his calls a few weeks after the last time he fucked her and that was it. He honestly forgot about her until he got a phone call in the middle of the night with her screaming at him to come to the hospital. He wasn't going to go but Benkei once again talked him into doing something he didn't want to do. Now he doesn't know how to thank Benkei enough for making him go.

He didn't believe the child was his when she first told him. That was until he saw her. She was a spitting image of him as a baby. He couldn't deny she was his. Wakasa swears that's the first time he ever felt love. He loved her more than anything and would do anything for her. That's how he ended up being talked into finding a nanny and now he wants to strangle Benkei.

Taking a sip from his glass he groans. He hears the door slam shut. "Only three more people today," He reminds himself. He checks his watch. The next person should be here any minute. That's when he hears a knock at the door. Answering it he is met with a young girl standing in his doorway. The other girls being interviewed were younger than him but this one has to be the youngest. College age maybe? Definitely doesn't look any older than twenty or twenty one. She clears her throat. "Hello sir, I'm (y/n), are you Mr. Imaushi? I'm here for an interview." Wakasa feels his cock twitch when the word sir leaves your lips. He's been called sir before but the way it sounds with your sweet voice is doing things to him.

Wakasa coughs trying to cover up a groan. "Come in" He says As he leads you into his living room. He sits and points to the chair across from him. He started asking you questions. Where you’re from, Why you want to be a nanny, any training. With every question you answered perfectly. At least he thought it was perfect. He wasn’t really listening to everything you said. He was just watching you. He thought you were pretty but Wakasa is around a lot of pretty women so he isn’t sure why it’s bothering him so much that he thinks you’re pretty.

“What about you?” you ask as you fiddle with your fingers. “Huh?” he asked, looking at you with slightly wider eyes. You clear your throat. “Oh, um, You asked what I do for work besides babysitting since I said I haven’t babysat since high school. I was just asking what you do sir.” Wakasa feels his cock twitch again. He’s not sure why hearing you call him sir is having this effect. “Oh. I own a club and work in trade.” You nod “That’s cool. So you’re a businessman.” you quietly laugh. “I guess you could call me that,” he says, smirking in your direction. “What club do you own, maybe I know it” you ask, smiling at the older man across from you. He doubts you know it. From the short time knowing you he doesn’t think you are the type to frequent his type of establishment. “It’s called Hydra” He says as he starts to roll his sleeves up his arm. “I doubt you’ve-” “ That’s the one across from that ramen restaurant right? I’ve been there a few times with friends” Wakasa tilts his head. You’ve been to his club? You don’t seem the type. Not to mention you didn’t act like you recognised him. Almost everyone who goes to his club knows who he is.

Wakasa lets out a hum. “I didn’t expect that.” He smirks again “I didn’t realize you were the owner. I thought it was the guy with a scar down his face.” his smirk drops. Of course you would think it was Takeomi. He hits on almost every piece of ass that walks into the place, and he likes to act like it's his club to those who by some grace of god don’t know Waskasa. Why is he friends with that moocher again? “Takeomi likes to pretend it’s his club. I can’t kick the guy out because we’re friends” You giggle. “He tried to get me to sleep with him. Don’t get me wrong I like older guys but he just isn’t my type” Wakasas smirk returns. “You like older guys huh?” You roll her eyes as you cover your face with your hands. “Can we continue with the interview please?” Wakasa chuckles as he starts asking questions related to the job again.

By the end of the interview Wakasa was sold. You were perfect. He also caught his daughter a few times peeking from the steps listening in on what was going on. This was the first time she came down from her room the whole time he was interviewing anyone. Offering you the job was a no brainer. He did have to tell himself your looks didn’t play a part in this. It was strictly that you were the best applying.

“Can you start tomorrow evening?” He asked as he was walking you to the door. You stop and turn around looking at him wide eyed. “Wait really?” he nods. You let out a squeak and wrap your arms around him hugging the older man. “Yes!” Once you realized what you did you quickly let go taking a step back and putting your arms behind your back and looking down. “Sorry” you whispered. “Can I get your number? I’ll call you later this evening to tell you all the details” You nod and part ways after putting it into his phone. While walking down the street you pull out your phone and call the person who got you the interview in the first place. “Senju, Why didn’t you tell me he was so hot?!”

Wakasa told you to show up at five so he could give you a tour of the place and introduce you to his daughter before he had to leave. You are currently standing in front of Waksasa’s door trying to get the courage to knock. You weren’t scared yesterday because Senju didn’t tell you the man she said needed a sitter was hot. Senju also gagged when you told her Wakasa was hot yesterday. You pull at the bottom of your skirt trying to make it a little longer. Taking a deep breath you knock and no more than five seconds pass before the door is opened and Wakasa is standing before you in black pants and a white button up shirt, the first three buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up. He has a little girl on his hip who looks no older than four or five. She looks like him. She even has the same bored eyes as him. He moves out of the way to let you in.

(Y/n), this is Rini, my daughter. Rini this is (Y/N), the woman I told you that was going to look after you while daddy has work” Rini buries her face on Wakasas shoulder. “She’s normally not shy” “It’s fine. Rini, I'm sure you and I are going to be great friends.” You say smiling at the toddler. She picks her head up and looks at you then smiles softly while nodding her head. After introducing you two and getting Rini a little more comfortable Wakasa walks around the huge penthouse showing you around. “And this is Rini’s room. She needs to be in bed no later than eight. She has a connecting bathroom.” He says pointing to the door in the room. “And my room” He says, turning and pointing to a door on the end of the hall. “Is there. I doubt you need anything from there but if Rini won’t sleep in her bed you can put her in mine.”

Walking to the kitchen Wakasa finishes showing you where everything is. “I left money on the counter so you can order dinner for the two of you.” He puts Rini down and she clings to his leg not wanting him to leave. He walks to the door taking Rini with him. “That should be everything but if you need anything or have any questions just give me a call.” You nod and smile at him. He bends down and removes the young girl from his leg while he crouches down in front of her. “Be good for (Y/N), okay my little bunny” the blonde hair girl nods her head while opening her arms for a hug. “Daddy loves you. I’ll see you in the morning.” Wakasa says kissing the top of Rini’s head. Wakasa walks over to you. “Don’t let anything happen to her. I’m serious about calling me if there are any issues. I can be here in ten minutes.” nodding your head and promising the older male you will take great care of his daughter he leaves you guys alone.

You bend down slightly, putting your hands on your knees. “Okay Rini, what do you want to do?” “I want my daddy!” she yells while pouting. “I want your daddy too” You say under your breath. “How about I order us some dinner and we can turn on the tv and watch a movie?” you ask the purple eyed girl. She nods her head then runs to sit on the couch.

While watching the little mermaid you hear a knock on the door. Rini is sitting with her blanket and a stuffed bunny not moving her eyes from the tv. You go get the money Wakasa left you and open the door. The delivery man gives you the food and you walk back in. Going to the kitchen you made Rini a plate and take it out to the living room for her to eat. Wakasa never said she couldn’t eat there and seeing how he is with her, you know she has him wrapped around her finger. Rini eats her food and before long she is asleep on your lap. You pick her up and carry her to her room and tuck her in. You go back down to the living and start playing on your phone waiting till Wakasa gets home. He told you, you could stay the night because he wouldn’t be back till the early morning hours.

While scrolling on your phone Senju texts you asking how it's going. You tell everything you and Rini did. You talk to Senju for a few hours before falling asleep on the couch.

Over the next several weeks you and Rini have gotten closer. Wakasa and you have even gotten a little closer. He has you coming around a few hours before he has to leave saying Rini wants to see you. Everytime when you arrive at the Imaushis house you are greeted with Rini running over to you screaming your name and giving you a hug. Wakasa has told you before that all she talks about is how much she likes you and wishes you could be around more. You started to notice things about Wakasa over the time working for him. More than just his looks. He can be really sweet when he wants to be, and he is very protective of his daughter. You’ve also seen the protectiveness extend to you as well. You told him about a bad date you went on and how the guy hasn’t left you alone since and was starting to freak you out. You haven’t heard from the guy since. You know it was Wakasa. You also learned about his real job. How he helps run a gang. You made Senju tell you after the bad date guy disappeared. She didn’t want you to be scared you would quit. But you feel safe around Wakasa and also have. He has never made you uncomfortable.

You also noticed over the weeks of working for the older male the feelings you get around him. Everything he does turns you on. At first you thought it was just because it's been awhile since you’ve slept with anyone but when he brought home a blonde girl with big tits you realized how jealous you were so you went to find someone to fuck the frustration out on thinking he could cure the want for your boss but the very next day when you saw him you felt that familiar heat. You started coming around in tighter clothes. Clothes that show off your tits and ass more. It’s nothing inappropriate. You wouldn’t show up here while Rini is here with anything on that might scar her for life.

Wakasa has noticed the change in clothing. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like it. He loves the short skirts that just barely miss showing your ass when you bend down or the shirts that your tits almost pop out of when you cross your arms. Wakasa also noticed how you are with his daughter. It’s almost motherly how you act towards her. He can imagine you being her mom. He has on several nights while he fucked his fist. He knows the blonde girl he brought home pissed you off. He did it to piss you off. He wanted to know if his feelings were reciprocated. He didn’t fuck her. He just let you think he did. Don’t get him wrong though. He went out of his way to find women who looked similar to you to fuck because he thought he could get it out of his system. But he wants you. He wants you even when he is fucking some other girl. If Rini didn’t like you as much as she, does he would have fucked you by now, but he doesn’t want to possibly make the only mother figure she has ever had run away. If he wants to fuck you, he needs to do this the right way. He has to make sure you never leave him and Rini. He wouldn’t be able to stand seeing his little girl's heart broken. Rini has mentioned wanting to be a big sister recently and she’s also told Wakasa she wishes you were her mom.

Wakasa called and asked you to come over tonight. You thought it was weird since Rini is staying at a friend's house tonight. You told Senju and she joked that he is just trying to fuck you. You didn’t tell her how excited it made you to think about or that you'd like him. Getting ready you decide on a tight little black dress and heels. Once at Wakasa’s you knock on the door and wait for him. A moment passes before he opens the door. He is wearing all black as well. His shirt has several buttons undone and his sleeves are rolled up showing off his tattoos. He has all his hair pulled back showing off his earring. He moves out of the way to allow you to enter. Once walking in you notice he has all the lights off but has candles light everywhere and that the stove is on. “You’re cooking” you say and he nods, walking to the kitchen before coming back with two drinks and handing you one. You smile at him.

After he finished cooking you two sat at the table. “You wear that to everyone fathers house you babysit for or am I just special?” You can feel your face warm. “I only babysit for you” he smirks at you as he leans over the table and gives you a kiss. It starts off sweet but he soon grabs the back of your head and deepens the kiss as he tilts your head. He is gripping your hair and pulling on it every once in a while. He swipes his tongue over your lips asking for entrance when you deny he harshly tugs on your hair causing you to yelp.

Wakasa pulls away and walks over to you grabbing your hand as he walks you backwards to his bedroom. His lips find yours once again on the way. Your hands are around his neck. He starts to slide the straps of your dress down your arm as his hands roam your body, squeezing any flesh he can get his hands on. Wakasa sucks in a shaky breath when your dress hits the floor and sees you didn’t wear anything underneath. He smirks before biting his lip and pushing you down on his bed. He slowly starts to unbutton his shirt. He’s going slow on purpose. He can see the lush in your eyes. You whine at how long it is taking him to undress. Smirking he says “impatient are we?” His shirt finally hits the floor and he starts crawling on the bed over you, kissing up your body the whole way. When he reaches your lips he slowly kisses you as his hands slide across your body. Squeezing and tugging anywhere he can as he pulls pants and moans from you. He pulls away and slowly kissing down your body while his hands find your legs and slowly part them.

When he reaches your thighs he is kissing, licking, and biting as his hand squeezes the other one. When he finally reaches your heat he drags his tongue up your slit as he groans and his eyes roll at the taste. He swears you’re the sweetest thing to ever grace his tongue. He could become addicted to your taste. He licks and sucks, making a mess of your cunt as he is rutting his hips against the mattress. He can feel his cock leaking but is trying to ignore it. He is drunk on the taste of you. He continues to eat you like a man starved. He nips and sucks as you cum all over his tongue screaming his name and pulling at his hair. He doesn’t stop. He nips and sucks as he adds a finger, overstimulating you. He smiles against your cunt as your legs shake around his head and he sees your back arching off the bed as you push your perfect tits up giving him the best view.

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’s on his third finger now. You’ve at least finished once for each finger plus just his tongue, your panting. You feel dizzy. You swear you're going to pass out when he says “One more baby girl” as his fingers rub against that sport that makes you see stars. Your toes curl as you grip the sheets. Words are leaving your mouth but they don’t make sense. You’re just screaming his name and the words yes, and please. You don’t know what you’re begging for. For him to stop or to keep going. Everything is wet. The air is hot and you're trying to catch your breath. You feel him remove his fingers but soon feel something much larger pushing into you.

Wakasa groans, his eyes crossing as he feels your tight wet walls squeezing him. He knew you would be tight just from using his fingers but he didn’t think it would be tight. He stills for a moment trying not to cum before he starts a brutal pace. He tried to wait for you to adjust and give him the go ahead but he couldn’t. He can’t control himself around you. It’s your fault really.

He wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes your hip as he increases the speed. All that can be heart is the sound of skin slapping skin, your moans and pants, and his sweet sweet praises. “Look at you baby, taking me so well. Your pussy was made for me baby. Was made to be fucked by me and only me.” He slams into you again while squeezing your throat. “Say it. Say how your pussy was made for my cock” “m-made for your c-cock” You stutter out as you grab his wrist and wrap your legs around him pulling him closer. “Damn right it is” He grunts out gritting his teeth as he starts to feel your walls tighten around him. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had” He says as he has you cumming for the nth time tonight.

He looks down at you feeling nothing but love. He swears he fell in love at this moment. Your moans and pants are his favorite song. A song he hopes you grant him the privilege of listening to everyday. He wasn’t lying when he said you had the best pussy and it was made for him. He truly believes it. He watches you as he continues to fuck into you chasing his own high. He would have cummed by now but he wanted you to finish as many times as you could first so he could hear your pretty sounds. As he looks at you he thinks you’ve never looked prettier. Out of all the times he has seen you this is his favorit look on you by far, a fucked out dazed moaning and babbling incoherent words all because of him. “Such a good girl. My good girl” he says as he shoves his fingers in your mouth for you to suck on. Moaning around them you don’t think you can take much more.

Wakasa feels his balls tighten and begs to cum inside. “You’re so good with Rini. You’d be an amazing mother. Let me make you a real one. Please, (Y/N) let me make you a mommy.” He’s pleading with you. He has to make sure you stay around after fucking him and you aren’t going to run away. He wants to give Rini a baby brother or sister. He starts thinking about you all around and plump with his child. He groans he isn’t going to last. He thinks his heart stopped when you nod your head “Please Waka. make me a mommy. Fill me up” His eyes cross and he lets out a moan as he slams his lips into yours and fills you. It's warm and messy and he’s never been happier. He stays in you for several more minutes as he kisses you and plays with your hair.

When he pulls out, he uses his finger to push anything leaking out. “Don’t waste it. Good girls don’t waste what daddy gifted them” he says as he starts to fuck you with his fingers. He is just making sure everything stays in. You start moaning again as his eyes meet yours. He grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He slaps your ass. “Ass up” he says as he pushes your head down. As soon as you're in position he is slamming into you again. You’re screaming into the pillow, and he slams into you over and over. “You can take it. I know you can” His name leaves your lips over and over. His finger finds you bundle of nerves as he starts to pinch and rub pulling another organism out of you. It isn’t long before he is filling you up again and again for the rest of the night. He needed to make sure it stuck.

Ever since that night Wakasa has fucked you everytime you babysit. He leaves work early just to come home and take you on the counter or table. You don’t complain. He pays you good and fucks you good. He currently has you on the table lay as he eats you like your the first meal he has had in weeks. You're moaning and pulling his hair as he groans into you. “Give me another” He mumbles after you cum for the nth time. “C-can’t” you cry as you push him away. “Know you can baby.” he says as he sits up and pulls you onto his lap. “Ride baby” He undoes his pants and lines himself up. You lower yourself down and start bouncing. He pulls your shirt down to show off your perky tits and his mouth latches onto them. He notices they're bigger and just smiles against you as he sucks. He feels his sock twicthing as your walls tighten. He fills you again just like he has been doing everyday for the past three weeks.

Wakasa is over the moon when you come running into his house a few weeks later telling him you’re late. He takes you to get a test and you take it at his place. Passing back and forth as you wait. Rini has been asking everyday when she is going to be a big sister and when you will be her mommy. He plans on making her mommy. He just has to make sure the big sister part comes true first. He’s the first to run into the bathroom when the timer on his phone goes off. He comes running out of the bathroom and grabs you giving you a kiss and thank you over and over again for making him a daddy again. He swears he will never look at other women again. You’re everything he wants

You guys decide to tell Rini a few weeks later. She is playing with her bunny in her room when you guys walk in with a gift for her. She opens it to see a smaller baby stuffed bunny. Looking at you confused, Wasaka says “You can give it to your baby brother or sister after they are born” She screams jumping up and hugging her dad and you as she yells thank you over and over again. Once she calms down she sits in front of you and looks at you both seriously.

“So does this mean (N/N) is my new mommy now?”

#tokyo revengers #imaushi wakasa #wakasa imaushi #tokyo revengers x reader #imaushi tokyo revengers #wakasa imaushi x reader #imaushi wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #imaushi wakasa x you #imaushi wakasa x yn #wakasa imaushi x yn #♡~mazie is talking~♡

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saetoru · 2 years

Text

#𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘)

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ it’s always been you for him, just like it’s always been sano shinichiro for you

— pairing ⋮ sano shinichiro x reader

— length ⋮ 8.3k words (sobsob)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, best friends/childhood friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, jealous shinichiro, slightly insecure shinichiro, virgin shinichiro, dry humping, praise, handjobs, unprotected sex, creampie, misunderstandings, the bike shop incident but he lives (in my world he never dies), love confessions, happy ending :)

— notes ⋮ this is for my sweet angel @arlertslove 's selfship collab <3 tysm for letting me join i had so much fun writing my lil love story with shin <33 and fank you cat and ris for listening to me ramble about this and beta reading 💋

shinichiro is used to girls coming into his shop looking for wakasa. he’s used to the wandering eyes and the stalled excuses as they wait around for his friend to show up. and he’s fine with it, really. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why someone would want imaushi wakasa, and he’s not so stupid as to miss the fact that his friend is as smooth with words as he is gifted in the looks department.

but still, he kind of wishes he could fulfill that one last part of his “biker dream,” the one where he’s got eyes with heart-shaped pupils following his every move as he pretends to be unaware, rolling his sleeve up as a “coincidence” while he tightens bolts with his wrench. but he finds the only eyes of a girl that ever seem to pay attention to him are yours—and he’s okay with that, really.

it’s just that you’re simply way out of his league, and he’s not foolish enough to daydream over a king’s riches when he’s dressed in the rags of a commoner.

“shin, do you ever leave this lame ass shop?” you complain, taking a sip of your soda from your straw. from the side, manjiro makes a disgruntled sound of protest.

“you wouldn’t get it,” the child huffs, cheeks puffed out as he glares at you, “girls don’t get cool stuff like this.”

“oh, i’m sorry,” you snort, shooting him a teasing grin, “i’ll try harder to see the wonders in scrapped hunks of metal.”

“this is not scrap,” shinichiro grumbles, tinkering away at the engine of the bike before him, tongue stuck out in concentration. your gaze softens just a little at the way his hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. “this ol’ thing’s still got some life left in her,” he hums, “think i could make a decent number offa her.”

shinichiro is a simple man. he wears a white t-shirt and dark jeans every time you see him, and he does his hair the same way he has since the day you met him as a kid. he has the same fast food order that you know by heart by now, and he still gets a diet coke from the convenience store every time you get a bag of chips—the only thing that’s changed is he now adds a pack of cigarettes to the mix, a sheepish grin on his face when you look at him disapprovingly.

i’ll break the habit someday, he always tells you, today’s just not that day. and then, before you can open your mouth to tell him not to make promises he can’t keep, he swoops in under your nose and grabs your chips from your hand, lumping them in with his pile and paying for you despite your protests.

every time, without fail.

“that is if you don’t keep her for yourself,” you point out, making him roll his eyes.

“are you here to drink all my soda or lend a hand?” he grumbles, shooting you a half-hearted scowl. “now make yourself useful and hand me a few screws,” he turns back around, hand reaching behind him as he motions for you to offer them to him. you reach for what you think are the screws—that is until manjiro snorts in amusement, of course.

“those are nails,” he snickers, hopping off his stool and moving to get the correct items in question. your brows furrow, glaring at him when he sticks his tongue out to you before plopping a few screws in his brother’s hand—which look awfully close to nails if you might add. “see? you girls aren’t cool enough to understand the difference.”

“hey,” shinichiro scolds, tongue peeking out again as he concentrates on lining the screw up just right. something fond bubbles in your chest at the sight, something warm and sweet, even if it feels just a little scary. “if you keep saying things like that, you’ll never get a girl, manjiro.”

“oh yeah? you’ve never had a girl, shin. what would you know?” the blonde pipes up, and almost instantly, a wave of crimson dusts over his cheeks as shinichiro throws his brother a dirty look. and when you chuckle, hand clamping over your mouth as you giggle into your palm, the blush rises to the tips of his ears.

he’s cute, you think. he’s always been a charmer, always made your lips twist upwards no matter how much you tell yourself you won’t let him. he’s a good friend too, sends you songs he thinks you’ll like, never leaves you on delivered for too long—even if you text him at three am, and sometimes, even as he rolls his eyes and complains, he’ll shove his plate your way when you steal a bite or two.

shinichiro’s a simple man. he’s got a good head on his shoulders, and more importantly, a good heart in his chest.

you think you hate whoever the girl he’s going to spend the rest of his life with is—even if you’ve yet to meet her…and even if she doesn't quite exist just yet.

“well, i know how to respect them,” he points a thumb at himself, flicking manjiro’s forehead affectionately as he stands to his full height. he reaches over to grab a towel, wiping the grease off of his hands. “you better head home now,” and then he turns to you. “and you, i’ll walk you home.”

you start to protest instantly. “i can walk myse—”

“i’ll walk you home,” he says firmly. “it’s getting dark.” you know better than to argue with him when he uses that tone—the same tone he uses on manjiro and emma when he’s being gentle yet firm, loving yet strict.

“fine,” you huff, but the warm feeling from earlier returns, this time tenfold. you almost think you’ve swallowed the sun in the middle of winter.

“you better come home right after. grandpa says to be home in time for dinner for once,” manjiro says pointedly, and with a whine of complaint as you ruffle his hair with a grin, he’s off. and then it’s just the two of you as you turn back to shinichiro, devious look on your face that tells him he’s about to be the unfortunate victim of your relentless teasing.

“you know, at this rate manjiro will settle down with someone before—”

“are you two just gonna spend the rest of the night in here?” a voice cuts you off, smooth and deep—and at the moment, the bane of shinichiro’s existence. wakasa strolls in, hands in his pockets and the stick of an already finished lollipop in between his teeth as he finds his way to stand next to you.

shinichiro pretends he doesn’t care about the way you beam at his friend. no, he tells himself, he doesn’t care one bit.

“not everyone closes up early like you,” you tease, poking wakasa’s chest as his smile widens, “quit slacking off at your gym.” and wakasa is as easy to fall for as he is to talk to. he lets banter fall off his tongue almost as naturally as people fall for his charms, and shinichiro doesn’t see why you should be an exception.

wakasa isn’t a weak man who runs toward trouble before he can think. he wouldn’t have to stand in between your legs as you’re sat on the sink, flinching under your touch as you dab disinfectant on his wounds. he wouldn’t stumble over the right words to tell you when you flash him a smile as you ask him if you look alright. he wouldn’t cry over small things and embarrass himself when you’re around to witness. so of course you’d want imaushi wakasa—who wouldn’t?

shinichiro just wishes that it were as easy to shrug off the sinking of his heart as he tells himself it is.

“well, there’s not much keeping me there when i don’t have a pretty face to keep me company,” wakasa teases back as he winks playfully, and shinichiro almost has to swallow down bile as you look down shyly.

when was the last time you ever looked away from him shyly? or the last time something he said ever made you stumble over your words as you answer back? his mood sours, and then before he can think, he shrugs his jacket over his shoulders, lips pressed into a tight line as he clears his throat for your attention.

“well, you heard manjiro. i shouldn’t be late for dinner,” he says dryly, making your brows furrow. “i’ll be off.”

“but what about—”

“waka will walk you home,” he grunts, cutting you off before turning to the male beside you, “you know how to lock up.”

“shin—” but then he’s gone, and you’re left alone with wakasa as the door shuts behind him. you stare at the man next to you, and he stares back, and neither of you quite know what to say—or what’s even happened in the first place.

and when you get home that night, for the first time in a really long time, your text message gets left on delivered for ages—even though it’s not three am.

——————————

by now, it’s common knowledge that sano shinichiro has never had much luck in the love department. he asks and asks, and girls always deny and deny. but contrary to popular belief, he’s not desperate for some sort of action like most guys his age are. he’s not particularly interested in sex—at least, not urgently, anyway. and he doesn’t think he’s undesirable by any means, after all, he wasn’t the leader of the top gang in the nation for nothing. he’s sure there are girls who would happily take the chance to sleep with him—but that’s not quite what he wants. he doesn’t want a meaningless fling one after the other.

he just doesn’t like the idea of waking up to empty sheets with the lingering scent of perfume and sex, and he doesn’t like the idea of not knowing the names of people he gets in bed with. and he especially doesn’t like the idea of letting people see the intimate parts of him without feeling intimately for him in some shape or form. the truth is that shinichiro, the weak king and famed leader of the mighty black dragon, is really just a romantic at heart.

so he asks shyly, roses in one hand and his heart in the other, weight shifting on the balls of his feet. he asks and asks, and girls deny and deny—and he wonders if maybe he’s just too pathetic to love.

and then there’s you.

he’s been in love with you since before love was a concept he even understood—and he suspects he’s even been in love with you since his “girls have cooties” stage at the tender age of six. for as long as he can remember, sano shinichiro has grown up on the warmth of your hand holding his.

you hold it in line at school when you insist he be your line buddy, you hold it when you carefully help him off the ground when he’s beaten by people twice his size, you hold it when you’re nervous about getting lost in a busy crowd on the streets, and you hold it in his dreams before tugging him in for a kiss.

but of course, as on brand of his luck as ever, he wakes up before he can feel the softness of your lips and taste the sweetness of your chapstick—which he suspects you wear strawberry flavored.

except today, shinichiro doesn’t get to wake up to the crushing disappointment of your kiss being cut short. instead, today he’s awoken by the loud sound of a fist banging on his door, making him jolt awake with a gasp.

“shin, open the damn door,” you demand from the other side, and he groans, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a scowl. now he’s thinking of the image of your lips pressing onto wakasa’s, and he feels bitterness creep up his shoulder, hunching over him and whispering sweetly in his ear to ignore you and promptly fall back asleep.

but you’re nothing if not persistent, so you keep pounding against his door.

“sano shinichiro, if you don’t open this door right now, i’ll walk in whether you’re decent or not,” you warn.

“well, i’m naked. so stay right there,” he calls out—even as he’s dressed fully clothed in a tank top and sweats.

“you don’t sleep naked,” you point out dryly, and he can just picture the scowl on your face, the way your arms cross, and your cheeks puff up in anger. he can also picture the way your foot taps impatiently, and if he wasn’t so mad at you (for no good reason at all), he’d have smiled fondly.

“how would you know?” he mutters, “you sleepin’ in the same bed as me?”

“shin, just open the damn door,” you sigh, and the soft thud against the wood tells him your forehead has gently fallen against the surface.

shinichiro, as he has been for most of his life, has not one ounce of him that has the strength to deny you. so with a heavy sigh, he slumps back against the headboard of his bed, crossing his arms.

“door’s open,” is all he says.

you don’t waste a moment, twisting the doorknob and walking into his room. it’s dark, and the curtains haven’t been drawn yet, but like clockwork, you step over the piles of clothes and seat yourself at the foot of his bed. you know his room like that back of your hand, what with the way you’ve spent damn near two decades coming over.

sano shinichiro has been your best friend since childhood—which by default, has always made you both susceptible to the cliche they’ll get married when they’re older remarks adults love to throw around so easily.

at six, you don’t care much for the statement outside of the mild shock you feel that adults always bring marriage into everything. shinichiro is fun, and he’s sweet, and that’s it. more importantly, he’s tall and easy to find when you play hide and seek, so you always end up winning. but shinichiro also splits his candy bar with you when you can’t decide between that or a bag of chips, and in exchange, you give him half of your bag. it works—you think it’s a rather unlikely pair between the two of you, but it works.

at twelve, you’re disgusted. shinichiro and you could never get married—could you? the adults need to stop talking because honestly, adults don’t know what they’re talking about. they work just to pay taxes, they tell you to go to bed at ten pm because “sleep is important”—only to stay up until three am themselves, and they always talk about marriage when half of them can’t even make theirs work. shinichiro is your best friend and that's it. you don’t think you could ever kiss lips as chapped as his anyway.

at eighteen, you think the adults may have had a point. maybe they know what they’re talking about after all. shinichiro is so incredibly handsome—when did he get this handsome? he smokes outside with his hair slicked up, a new little style he’s trying out, but it’s always back to falling over his eyes by the end of the day. the phase doesn’t last very long. and even though as his best friend you hate that he inhales those death sticks, as his secret admirer you can’t help but appreciate how perfect his lips look curled around the roll of tobacco as he takes a drag.

at twenty-three, you hate the adults for filling you up with false hope. you think they must hate the youth and that’s why they fill their minds with sick, cruel daydreams and fantasies of true love and happily ever afters. shinichiro has asked every girl he can think of on a date except you. you know it’s because you’re his best friend—but that’s just the problem. best friend. that’s all you’ll ever be, and it’s all the more frustrating that it’s all he’ll ever see you as, that you’re the only fucking girl he hasn’t asked out—especially since you’re the only fucking girl that appreciates him enough to say yes in a heartbeat.

but shinichiro is your best friend, and you’d rather have him like that than not at all.

“why’ve you been ignoring me,” you cut right to the chase, crossing your arms and throwing him a look as mean as they get. he crosses his arms right back, looking to the side as he avoids answering your question.

he’s obnoxiously persistent in avoiding you even as you’re less than two feet away from him, so you decide you have no other choice than to be obnoxiously stubborn in demanding his attention one way or another.

“shin, if you don’t spit it out, i’ll tell waka it was you who scratched his bike,” you threaten. it’s a good start, it gets his lips to twitch into a slight frown, but he’s still determined. “i’ll scratch your bike,” you huff. still nothing. “i’ll tell manjiro about that one time you accidentally—”

“you promised you’d keep that a secret,” he scowls, and then his eyes widen. it’s too late, though, and you’re already grinning at him cheekily as you revel in your victory. rolling his eyes, he grumbles under his breath before uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to either side of him with a sigh. “what is it?”

“oh, i don’t know,” you scoff in disbelief, raising a brow as if to question if he’s being serious. “maybe it’s that you’ve been radio silent for three whole days. three! i could’ve been dead in an alleyway and you wouldn’t even know.”

“i’d be invited to the funeral,” he points out.

“i’d tell them not to let you in.”

“you’re supposed to be dead,” he furrows his brows, staring at you like you’re stupid—and then you’re back to usual for a moment, like he hasn’t ignored your existence every time he remembers you smile at wakasa, like you aren’t ready to skin him alive for disappearing off the face of the earth, like you’re both just too damn in love with each other to stay mad for long.

it’s a little too bad he doesn’t realize it and neither do you.

“it was hypothetical,” you pinch your nose. “stop dodging. why haven’t you been talking to me?”

“glad to know you noticed,” he grumbles. he could really use a smoke right now, he thinks. but it’s barely eleven am and he hasn’t even had breakfast yet—even he’s at least that much concerned for his own wellbeing.

“what’s that supposed to mean?’ your eyes narrow, angry slits that glare at him like they’re daring him to explain himself further and tread down such a dangerous path. but shinichiro doesn’t back down, doesn’t even falter as he looks you dead in your eyes as he answers.

“just thought you’d be busy is all,” he says nonchalantly. too casual, too relaxed. like the calm before the storm—and you sense a storm might be approaching rather rapidly. “talking to wakasa must really clog up your schedule.”

“what the fuck does that even have to do with anything, shin?” you stare at him incredulously. that evening was not your first time talking to imaushi wakasa, nor was it your second or third, and it likely won’t be your last. you’ve talked to wakasa so many times, you can’t imagine why it should matter to shinichiro now.

unless…

no, you reprimand yourself, no wishful thinking. but what else could it be if not jealousy? all too suddenly, a small spark of excitement knits itself comfortably into your bones, and in a small fit of boldness, you wriggle your brows at him. he scowls instantly.

“what are you makin’ that face for at me—”

“are you jealous, shinny?” you tease, shuffling to sit next to him, face inching closer to his. you almost—almost, but not quite—miss the way he gulps.

maybe wishful thinking is only wishful thinking until it comes true.

“w-what are you…n-now you’re just makin’ stuff up—” he cuts his stuttering off when you giggle, face crimson as he throws you a (weak) glare. reaching, you pinch his cheek, and you can hear the audible hitch in his throat as you do.

“jealous you won’t be my number one man? don’t worry,” you hum, patting his face gently with affection. anything to keep touching him. “you’re the only one i text at three am—though it would be much appreciated if you’d answer this time,” you say pointedly.

“you’re the only person i text at three am too,” he mutters.

“not that anyone else texts you at three am,” you snicker, throwing your head back and laughing when he gently bumps your shoulder with his. “it’s a good thing. more attention for me. if you text other girls in the middle of the night, i’ll have to enlist wakasa for more attention—”

his face sours, making you trail off. and for some reason, he really seems to be taking this friendliness with wakasa personally.

“well, what’s wakasa got that i don’t anyway?” he grumbles, “just cause he’s a good kisser or something doesn’t mean—quit laughing,” he hisses when he hears you chuckle quietly.

“how do you know wakasa is a good kisser?”

“you tryin’ to tell me you think he’s not?” he raises a brow. somehow, your silence tells him everything he needs to know, and he feels bitterness creep into his skin, seeping into the small crevices of sano shinichiro that are very hard to reach—the small parts of him that are envious and resentful, so unlike his usual golden heart.

“i’m sure you’d be a great kisser,” you offer, which he takes as a half-ditch effort to comfort him. “you just need to practice ‘s all.”

“yeah well, that’s kind of hard to do when no one even says yes to a date,” he grunts.

it’s quiet. he almost feels bad for springing this on you like this, like it’s your fault you’re into a guy as great as wakasa—like it’s your fault girls aren’t into a guy who pales in comparison like shinichiro.

“we could practice if you want,” you say quietly. he finally turns to look at you full on.

“what?”

“well, i mean…just for practice, you know? we’re still friends,” you shrug nonchalantly.

right, friends. but shinichiro wants to feel your lips on his one way or another, and this might just be the only way. he’s not going to ask for more than what he’s already been graciously offered from the universe.

“okay,” is all he says, voice somewhat strained. “d-do i gotta like…y-you want me to play music? o-or i could—”

“shin,” you snort, staring at him amused, “we don’t need music to kiss.” he’d be embarrassed—really, he would. but you’re just so pretty when your eyes are bright like that, and he’s shameless enough to be proud he’s made you laugh.

wakasa can suck on that, he thinks.

“w-well, i just thought…c-cause you know, people say music sets the…you know?” he stares at you like he hopes you’ll catch what he’s hinting, and you blink innocently—purposely, he suspects. “you know, th-the mood,” he croaks.

“we’re kissing, not fucking,” you snort. he sputters at the directness, and then you decide to spare him and cup his face with both hands, face hovering just inches before his. “just tell me if you want to stop, okay?” you murmur, thumb stroking his cheek tenderly.

like he’d ever ask you to stop, he thinks. still, he gulps and nods.

“okay,” he murmurs back when you seem to wait for him to say it verbally. “i will,” he assures,

and just like that, you kiss him. shinichiro almost takes this as a sign to pinch himself, just to make sure this isn’t a dream he got lucky in and didn’t wake up early from. but he decides if this is a dream, he’d be cruel to take away the one chance he has to experience this, so he plants his hands on your waist instead, gently tugging you to straddle his waist.

his lips are soft, and they aren’t chapped like they once used to be. your lips taste of strawberry chapstick, just like he always imagined.

shinichiro isn’t a bad kisser, you decide. he’s equal parts enthusiastic as he is gentle, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of—if not the—best kiss you’ve ever had. but then again, maybe it’s just because you’re in love with him. you’ll take him however you can, and even if this is just “as friends,” you’re content at the moment with the way his lips mold against yours, large hands gripping onto your hips as he pants under you.

except, neither of you takes the initiative to be the one who pulls away—and then one thing sort of leads to the other, as they always do in cases like this. your hands wander to his hair, tugging at his roots, he groans in surprise, and then suddenly both of your hips are grinding your crotches together. he lets out a muffled moan against your mouth as you rub against his growing erection.

and even though you really shouldn’t, you grind down on him until you feel his hard-on poke through his sweats, pulling sweet little whines from him as his breath grows ragged.

“f-fuck, that…that feels good,” he groans quietly, “keep doing that.”

“yeah?” you ask, “like this?” your lips are trailing along his jaw, sucking on the skin—just because you can, just because he’s not stopping you. he throws his head back against the frame of his bed, whimpering as you drag up and down his length through your pants. you gasp as you feel him rub against your clit, hips moving faster as you chase the friction.

he seems just as desperate for it as you do—because now, his hips buck to match your rhythm, panting raggedly as he feels his orgasm slowly build up.

“‘m close,” he gasps, “fuck, fuck, ‘m so close. jus’ a bit more—f-fuck,” he cuts himself with a whimper of your name as he cums, fingers digging into your hips bruisingly tight as he desperately rolls his hips against you. you watch his head fall back, how his cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue, how he shudders with a blissed-out face as his mouth parts with pretty little moans, how his hair falls over his closed eyes and curtains his face. you feel his pants dampen, sticky ropes of cum seeping through the fabric, making a mess and soiling both of your clothes.

but you’re too busy mewling as he drags against your clit to care, hips rutting against him faster. you’re close—he knows it too, and he’s determined to get you falling off the edge as quickly as possible.

“c’mon,” he says through a shaky voice, “jus’ let go, cum for me.” for someone with no experience, shinichiro isn’t as shy as you initially thought, and he certainly knows where the clit is. he guides your hips with his hands, helping you stroke against his cock until you slump over him, crying out as you cum too. your walls spasm around nothing, aching to clench around his girth.

“shin,” you whine, “sh-shit, feels good.”

“god, n-need to be in you,” he gasps, “can i? please, please, please,” he pleads into your skin as his head falls to the crook of your neck. you don’t waste a second, grabbing at the hem of his tank top and lifting it over his head, slipping it over his arms. you take off your own shirt, and his eyes fall to your chest instantly. “can…can i?” he asks hesitantly, and you nod, grabbing his hands to cup either tit.

“yes please,” you breathe, letting out a shaky sigh as he kneads your breasts in his hands before letting them wander to unclasp your bra. he gulps when it falls, eyeing your bare chest before leaning to press a soft kiss to your collarbone.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against the skin, nose brushing against it and sending shivers up your spine. his thumbs roll over your nipples, pebbled and hard under his touch, pulling a soft moan from you as he pinches lightly and rolls them between his fingers. “feels good?” he gives you a charming little grin—just a little giddy he’s doing something right.

“yes, keep going,” you whine, pulling a grunt from him as you shuffle on his lap to get closer, rubbing against his still hardened cock. your hand reaches past his waistband, pulling his length out and wrapping your hand around it as you squeeze gently.

shinichiro lets out a strangled groan—somehow, it feels way more different when it’s your hand and not his. he lets out ragged breaths as you gently stroke him, whimpering when your thumb glides through his slit and smears the pre cum around the head of his cock.

he’s pretty, long and curved and flushed a soft pink at the tip—and truth be told, bigger than you expected.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” he rasps, staring down at the way your hand fists his cock, a slick, wet noise ringing through the room as you drag your hand up and down his length. he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his hair clings to his sweaty forehead. and then you pull away, making his eyes fly open as his mouth opens to protest.

you speak before he can. “you sure about this?” you ask, and he swallows at the tenderness of your voice, the way your eyes are soft and sweet and searching his for any signs of changing his mind.

he shakes his head quickly—embarrassingly quickly if he’s being honest with himself.

“yes. please don’t stop, baby,” he groans, and the pet name slipping off his tongue is all the encouragement you need, letting out a labored breath before nodding.

shinichiro watches in a trance as you rid yourself of your pants and underwear, watches as you tug his own sweats down his hips and help him out, watches in sheer awe as your grip his shoulders and line your entrance up with his tip, rolling your hips to just glide him over across your folds, gathering your slick along the head of his cock. you both shudder at the contact, and slowly, you sink down on him, taking him in inch by inch.

“god—f-fuck, s-so tight,” he chokes, hands flying to your waist and gripping tightly, panting harshly as his eyes squeeze shut. you gasp, head falling to his shoulder as you sink down on the last few inches, bottomed out as he drags along your walls.

he’s big, and he curves into you just right—almost like he was made to fit you. slowly, you grind your hips, moaning against his shoulder as he groans, the sound of his voice making you clench down on him unintentionally.

“so full, shin,” you whine, “feels good—you make me feel good.” slowly, the grinding turns into your hips slamming down on him, bouncing on his cock as he throws his head back and lets out a wanton moan.

“sh-shit—you’re perfect, so, so perfect,” he rambles, hips snapping up to match your pace, thrusting into you deeper. he pauses for a moment when you let out a shrill squeal when he slams into you particularly deep, fat tip kissing your sweet spot and making you cling to him tighter. he throws you a cheeky grin, one that makes your heart melt and your eyes roll at the same time. “looks like i found it,” he grins to himself, and then he’s flipping you both over, a new aura of confidence radiating off of him that you’ve never quite seen in shinichiro.

“shin, please,” you whine, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his forehead down to press against yours, “fuck me,” you whisper.

“shit, baby,” he groans, “look at you, so pretty. prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” you clench down on him. who would’ve thought praise from his tongue could make you wonder if you’re about to cum again, but it sounds so perfect off his tongue. so intimate and so sacred. “needed you so bad, you have no idea.”

“me too,” you gasp, drawn-out moan pulling from your lips as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips and bullying his cock past your folds in a perfect rhythm—you almost question if he really has been a virgin this whole time.

shinichiro is pretty—it’s the conclusion you’ve allowed yourself to come to after a long time of denying it. he looks pretty when his hair falls over his eyes as the sun makes the strands look a shade lighter, and he’s pretty when he rubs his neck and laughs nervously in the endearing little way that he does. and now you know he sounds it too, breathy and whiny against the shell of your ear as he desperately fucks into you, losing himself to the warmth of your walls, to the way they flutter around him so tightly. he’s also pretty when he lets out a deep, raspy grunt, and it serves as a reminder that he’s grown into a man now.

he’s not the same cry baby on the playground, staring up at you through wobbly lips and a bruise on his cheeks, desperately fighting back the tears in his eyes.

he’s a man now, lean and built with muscle you never really noticed was there, with a deep, husky voice that you never really took the time to register how much has changed over the years, with hands that are big now, way bigger than you ever remember as they pin your hands over your head, wrapped around your wrists.

but somehow, he’s still the same shin when he meets your eyes as his forehead presses against yours. your shin—your shy, awkward, weak little cry baby shin.

and you love him.

“you close? ‘m so fuckin’ close,” he pants, and then his hand sneaks down in between your bodies to rub his thumb over your clit, making your back arch as you mewl, chest pressing against his as your nipple graze against each other. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum baby. cum with me,” he pleads.

“s-so close, shin,” you sob, “need it, need it so bad.”

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he groans, “anyone ever tell you that? how fuckin’ perfect you are? you drive me so fuckin’ insane.”

“shinichiro,” you cry one more time before he angles his hips to slam into your spot, and then you cum—hard. your hips leave the mattress, shrill squeal rolling off your tongue as your walls spasm around him, making him grunt at the way you squeeze his cock. your legs are wrapped around his waist, mouth hung open as your eyes roll back, and if your face isn’t enough to send him over the edge, the way you moan through broken sobs definitely is.

“fuck, fuck—y-you gotta let go, baby. ‘m gonna…gonna c-cum, gotta let me go—”

“no, no, inside,” you beg, wrapping your legs around him tighter, pulling him closer as you stare up at him with wide, watery doe eyes. “please, i need it.”

he couldn’t hold back if he tried.

“shit—you’re really gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groans, and then his lips are on yours, desperately kissing you, letting you drink in his moans and swallow them up as he spills into you, cumming a second time.

he cums for what feels like forever—and if it were up to you, it’d be longer than that. his hips are sloppy, fucking into you as he rides out his orgasm with muffled whines against your mouth and a tight grip on your wrists. “fuck, fuck, fuck—f-feels good. ‘s so good,” he babbles, and you can feel his cock twitch with every rope of cum he spills into you, painting your walls white. with three more thrusts, he finishes, whimpering as you flutter around him and milk him dry.

and as he pulls out, slumping his body over yours while he breathes through labored inhales, shakily catching his breath, you take this as the perfect opportunity to be brave.

you’re brave as you mumble, “i love you, shin,” fingers weaving through his sweaty locks.

he tenses. your heart shatters. there’s a knock on his door.

“shin, hurry up,” you hear manjiro’s muffled voice through the door, “grandpa says no breakfast for either of you if you don’t come right now.” there’s a quiet grumble of, “they talk so much, as if they don’t see each other every day,” under the blonde’s breath, and then you hear the soft pads of his feet as he walks away.

and silently, as you both dress and fix up your appearances, you don’t know if shinichiro is the same shin you grew up with.

you don’t stay for breakfast, and he doesn’t ask you to.

——————————

shinichiro is stupid.

he’s a fucking idiot and he knows now why he’s never had any luck in the department of love. he’s pathetic and a coward and he deserves all the rejections he’s got lined up on his record—at least, that's what he woefully tells wakasa as he’s got his head in his hands.

“you’re not a virgin anymore?” wakasa asks in shock, mouth agape as though this is more surprising than the aftermath shinichiro’s so kindly summed up—the same aftermath that happens to be the worst mistake of his life.

“that’s not the fucking point i’m making,” he grits his teeth. “the girl i’m in love with thinks i don’t feel the same, man. can you read the room?”

“so no congrats cake, then?” wakasa asks, just to be sure. he dodges the screwdriver thrown at his head expertly. “i don’t see what the big deal is,” wakasa sucks on his lollipop, shrugging as though it’s a simple matter. shinichiro wishes his aim wasn’t equally as bad as wakasa ability to dodge is good. he really wishes the screwdriver hit. “anyway, just show up at her house with flowers and say, i love you too, i just got shy. girls love flowers.”

“i wasn’t shy, i was shocked,” he mutters quietly, “and it’s not that simple,” he grunts, sighing as he wallows in self-pity. wakasa is not as good at relationship advice as shinichiro thought, and now he’s even more irritated that someone as dense as his friend is blessed with so much romantic appeal.

“why not? she loves you, you know that now. the hard part’s done,” wakasa shrugs, “so you guys like…had full-on sex? are you actually not a virgin anymore?”

“you know what, forget i said anything,” shinichiro huffs, staring down at his hands with a frown. wakasa gazes at him for a moment, eyeing the look on his face that can’t be labeled as anything other than purely crestfallen.

“if you love her, you wouldn’t be sitting here feeling bad for yourself,” wakasa says quietly. “between the two of you, she’s probably more miserable right now,” he mumbles. “no point in being a coward now.”

it’s silent. and then shinichiro’s groaning before he stares up at the ceiling.

“i’m not like you,” he mutters, “i can’t sweet talk or be romantic or anything. i’m hopeless.”

“you’re right,” wakasa agrees thoughtfully, picking at his nails as he rolls the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other, “you’re not me.”

“okay, man. i get it, you don’t have to—”

“that’s why you lead black dragon and not me,” wakasa looks him dead in the eye, giving him a pointed look as though to say wake up. “and that’s why she loves you and not me. quit makin’ excuses and get off your ass.”

and shinichiro is stupid.

he’s painfully unaware of a lot of things, reckless and a tad bit too spontaneous in his choices, but he thinks maybe you’ve known that all along, and you still love him even through the busted lips and wounded pride. you loved him through his delinquency and trouble-making habits, and you loved him before he’s built himself to be the most respected gang leader around these parts.

so with a nod, he smiles softly at his friend—maybe it’s a good thing wakasa dodged the screwdriver after all.

“thanks, man.”

“yeah, whatever, don’t make it weird,” wakasa grunts, rolling his eyes. there’s a fondness in his gaze, though—and his lips just barely tug at the edges. “so did you really last long enough?”

this time shinichiro throws a wrench.

——————————

it wasn’t supposed to go down like this. he had a plan. a foolproof plan.

he had the flowers, he had the chocolate, and he even had a piece of paper in his pocket with a bulleted outline for the all the things he wanted to say—reading off of it word for word seems like a tad bit of a dick move, so he opts for bullet points instead of full sentences.

it was supposed to be smooth and heartfelt and endearing enough that you’d have absolutely no choice but to give in to his charms and say it’s okay, shin. i still love you. and maybe, if he got lucky and the universe was on his side, he’d get to kiss you some more. maybe other things too, but he tries to be practical and not hope for too much.

but evidently, the universe was not on his side because before he can even grab the flowers and be on his way to your house, he’s being robbed. and to make things worse, it’s by his own brother’s friends. and to add icing to the cake, one of them split his head open with a fucking chain cutter. he wonders if this is karma for trying to hit wakasa’s head with not just a screwdriver, but a wrench too.

so, instead of your front doorstep, he lands himself a nice little visit to the hospital, a teary-eyed manjiro and emma at his bedside by the time he wakes up.

“shin, do you remember me? i’m your sister, emma,” she says with wobbly lips and a quiet sniffle, tugging gently at his hospital gown. his eyes soften, and he places a hand on top of her head, ruffling her hair affectionately.

“yes, emma, i still have my memory,” he chuckles, “and you must be manjiro,” he teases. manjiro purses his lips with a huff, but when two tears trickle down his cheeks, shinichiro wipes them away with the pad of his thumb. “i’m fine,” he murmurs, “see? nothin’ to worry about.”

and then the door slams open and everyone flinches, all eyes darting to look at you as you stand with your own teary eyes and wobbly lips, the sound of your sniffles joining the rest.

“oh shin,” you sob, and soon, you’re gently cupping his cheeks and tilting his head to get a better look at the bandages. “does it hurt? are you gonna have any permanent damage? is the kid in jail? do you remember what happened? wait, do you remember me? it’s me, remember? we’ve been friends since we were kids, i helped you up after you got beat—”

“okay,” he hisses, “we don’t need to relive that. it’s in the past,” his eyes glance at manjiro and emma before meeting yours again. you purse your lips and roll your eyes.

“you almost died,” you spit at him, “how are you still worried about your rep?”

“i’m fine,” he grumbles, and then his eyes soften and he meets your gaze. he feels his heart sink when he notices there are tear tracks down your cheeks, staining your pretty little face in a way it never should be—you’re too good for this world for that. “really, i am.”

before either of you can even ask, manjiro is grabbing emma’s hand and tugging her along as he shuffles out the door, leaving you both to yourselves in the room without two sets of eyes watching…whatever this moment is as it goes down.

“shin,” you sigh, seating yourself down on the chair beside his bed. he almost whines in protest when your hands leave his face, missing your touch as soon as it’s gone. “i’m sorry i’ve been avoiding you. i…it’s not your fault you don’t feel the same.”

“wait—”

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” you cut him off, “i get it, really i do! and i’m not hurt. well, i am a little sad, i can’t lie, but i’ll be fine. we’ll be fine. i don’t…i can’t lose you, shin, you know? we can be friends, i’m okay with just friends—you’re my best friend, and i thought…i thought you were gonna die, and i hadn’t spoken to you in like five days, and—”

“but i do—” you shush him with a finger to his lips.

“just let me finish, okay? i’m really glad you’re okay, i don’t know what i’d do if you weren’t. god, you weren’t waking up, and there was so much blood when i got there, and manjiro was…a-and…” you trail off, voice cracking and eyes watering—and now you’re crying. sobbing, actually. sobbing and tearing his heart right out of his chest and shredding it one tear at a time, and he scrambles to grab your hand.

“you sure do love to hear yourself talk,” he grumbles, tugging you forward to wipe the tears off your face. and the proximity should make him the shy, awkward guy he always reverts into when you’re so close, but somehow all of it flies out the window at the sight of you crying.

he hates the idea of tears ever falling down your cheeks, and he hates the idea of him being the cause even more.

“what are you—”

“i’ve been trying to say,” he huffs, “i–” he takes a breath, one that’s a little shaky before he swallows. “i love you too. i just…just got surprised, you know? cause…cause you’re you, and you laugh at wakasa’s jokes—even though he’s not really that funny, anyway,” he rolls his eyes at the mere thought of wakasa, “and i just froze. i-it’s not cause…l-like, i meant to say it back, really! i j-just…w-well you know me,” he chuckles nervously. you’re staring with your mouth agape. “n-no one’s ever said anything like that to me—well, no. i do get told i love you…by like my family and stuff—wait, that sounds lame. forget that last part—” he almost wishes hanemiya kazutora hit him harder with the chain cutter at this point when he hears you giggle.

maybe death would be better than this, and at least that way he could haunt wakasa to make sure he stays far away from you. but he’s here, making a complete fool of himself as he openly admits that in his twenty-three years of life, he usually really just hears i love you from his younger siblings—and that’s typically only through batted lashes to get him to give in and let them get their way.

“well, at least hitting your head didn’t change you,” you tease, “you’re still the same.”

“it’s too soon to be making head trauma jokes,” he glowers, “i just poured my heart out to you, you know.”

“i know,” you hum, cupping his cheek and tracing a thumb over the skin. he leans into your touch and closes his eyes—and a small part of him is just the slightest bit proud he doesn’t need flowers and chocolate and his stupid bulleted list of things to say on paper.

maybe, he’s enough as is. shy, awkward, weak little cry baby self and all.

“it would be really appreciated if after this, you stopped giving imaushi wakasa the time of day,” he grumbles, “he’s really fuckin’ annoying.”

“you be nice to waka,” you chide, staring at him sternly. he pouts unhappily at the way you defend his friend. “he always says good things about you.”

at twenty-three, you think the adults are right. you don’t see yourself spending your days with anyone else besides shinichiro, and if you have to fight the reaper’s scythe yourself, you will—but you’re marrying sano shinichiro one way or another. now that you have him, you’re never letting him slip from your fingertips again.

so you climb into bed with him, tangle your legs with his and lay your head on his chest, ignore the cramped bed on the hospital that’s a little too small for the both of you, and you gently tilt his head down and you kiss him.

he kisses back as he holds your face, smiling against your lips like he’s got the world in his palms—and he does.

“i’m in love with you,” you murmur as you pull away, not meeting his gaze. your finger traces patterns into his chest, and his arm curls around you tighter.

“oh,” he says.

you glance up at him, frown marring that pretty, pretty face of yours. “that’s it?”

“and i’m in love with you too,” he whispers.

“oh.”

“that’s it?” he pouts playfully, bringing a hand to his chest as he writhes in faux agony. you snort, throwing your head back as you laugh, and he grins down at you, watching the light break over your face as you realize it’s always been you all along—just like it’s always been him.

“shut up, shin,” you smack his chest, smiling against his lips when they find yours in another giggly kiss.

shinichiro is a simple man. he finds that if he has you, he doesn’t really need anything else.

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