ᯓ ᥫ᭡ sneaking around with mitsuya would include... 18+
you swore it would never get to this point.
that what the two of you were doing was just innocent flirting.
(you tried to convince yourself that the forced proximity was the sole purpose for the tension that hung heavy whenever the two of you were alone.)
except that it never was truly innocent in any way.
surely mitsuya didn't mean to lean over you as he instructs you on how to use the operating system—purely coincidental—the way his hand is planted riiiight beside yours, pinkies nearly touching. so close you can feel the warmth of his body, a hint of his cologne wafting over you.
the ghosting of his hand running down your spine, a subtle reminder to sit up straighter.
his index finger tapping your lip the time you accidentally smudged ink on the corner of your mouth, lingering a beat too long to be causal.
mitsuya is a good boss, great even. always kind and patient, even when you screw up. he takes it all in stride, grinning warmly, unaware of how it makes your body heat up several degrees. a bead of sweat dripping down the back of your neck despite the a/c on max, and a wetness between your legs that's hard to ignore.
so tell me how you wound up with your legs slung over his shoulders, trying to stay quiet in the back room of his shop. scraps of fabric and sketches were hastily swept off the top of his workbench, your back thrown onto the mess.
dress shirt rucked half up your torso, red lacy bra peeking through the sheer material—did you think he wouldn't notice? wouldn't stare at how your nipples poked through? they were practically begging for his mouth to clasp around the sensitive bud, to bite n suckle on them. stupid girl.
mitsuya taps his cock against your drenched folds, watching the sticky strings of arousal drip from his tip.
'plap plap plap' like he's knocking before entering—it would be rude not to, because even though he has you folded in half on his desk, mitsuya is a gentlemen first and foremost.
your clit twitches with every rough slap, "haa... hurts—'suya." whining behind your hand as he administers smack after smack.
lilac eyes stare down at your quivering bottom lip, glasses low on his nose, his free hand pulls yours away from that pretty face. "takashi," he corrects, "if you wanna be fucked like a good girl then use my name."
and fuck, the sound of his voice all rough and commanding, has you clenching around nothing.
your voice trembles, a meek whisper of his name. the result is immediate, irises blown wide with lust, thick head of his cock pulsing at your entrance.
both of you moan in sync when he pushes in, "s'fucking tight..." your pussy squeezes, wrapping around his dick perfectly. better than any fleshlight he's ever used.
mitsuya thrusts once, twice, thrice until he's fully seated, nestled deep in your guts like he owns them. you writhe, whimpering at the pressure in your stomach, the burn of your hamstrings being pushed so far back.
he starts a deep, fast pace that shakes the desk, plowing into you with feral need, your shoulder blades dig into the wooden surface, "look at me." he growls, tipping your chin up in a harsh grip—so unlike his usual tenderness. "if you so much as glance away i'll stop."
and he means it. if your eyes flutter shut for even a second too long his hips stop. freezes. waits. resumes only after your tear-riddled eyes settle on him again.
"there she is..." mitsuya coos, kissing sweetly at your ankle. a small reward for behaving so well. he's praising you, yes, but the tone is so snide that it feels derogatory.
the bell to the front door chimes, signaling that there's a customer in need of assistance. but unfortunately help isn't on the way as mitsuya pistons his cock deeper into your sopping cunt, "takashi, maybe we should—" he cuts you off, "you're not goin' anywhere darlin'. not 'til i'm done with you."
a voice calls out, dangerously close to the feeble door the separates the showroom from his office.
mitsuya doesn't care, not when he finally has you under him, moaning like a pornstar and making a creamy mess all over his cock n down his balls.
god, it was so filthy, the lewd slaps of skin on skin, your bliss filled cries of pleasure. the sound no doubt echoing, it only spurred him on. driving into you like your cunt was salvation and he was hell bound.
"taka—right there... s'close." his hands grip your hips, angling them up and hitting your cervix with critical accuracy that breaks you—gummy walls spasming and sucking him in like she was yearning for his cum.
mitsuya pulls out at the very last second, furiously stroking his throbbing cock before hot spurts of cum splatter out. painting his stomach, your inner thighs, and even your face.
"uh..." you both whip your heads towards the door, standing stock still in the doorway is takemichi, having the world's worst timing. "get out!!" mitsuya yells, moving to cover as much of your exposed body as he can. takemichi bolts out, crashing into the coat hanger by the door in his haste, it topples to the floor with a loud 'bang'.
"does this mean i'm gonna be fired?" you ask, a fleck of his seed dripping down your cheek, landing on your ripped blouse.
mitsuya sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "no, but i might have to knock that idiot out." you laugh breathlessly, stealing a quick kiss as you re-button your top.
after locking up the store you climb onto the back of his bike, arms wrapped snugly around his waist, riding off deadly fast to spend the first night of many at mitsuya's.
kunaiiikittennn 𖹭 please do not repost, copy or steal my trash 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ᝰ.ᐟ