#TW high-pitched note for a long time

[bbsmuts]

Field Trip Part 2: The Queen's Homecumming ft. BLACKPINK Jennie and Lisa

A/N: This is the continuation of Field Trip, which was something that was requested a lot back when I released the original. I've kept people waiting long enough, and I'm sure seeing that title made a lot of people excited. Field Trip remains my most popular smut, with over 900 notes, shoutout to my man @xiaoondc for pitching it. It's almost been a year in real time, so it'll be accurate.

-상훈

Length: 8.45k

Possible TW: Pretty much all of it

Tags: Domination, slave/master, choking, spanking, breeding, humiliation, whipping, gangbang, spitroasting, anal, throatfuck, bondage

WARNING: Intense and graphic sexual violence and degradation is depicted in this smut, much more than the original Field Trip. If you are easily triggered by or sensitive to such content, I strongly advise that you stop reading here.

FIELD TRIP PART 1: Field Trip

It had been nearly a year since Jennie's scandalous visit to Nairobi, and the time had come for her to return. At last.

Jennie had been waiting eagerly for a full year to go back to Kenya as she had promised, and now she had the opportunity. So it was with high spirits and high anticipation that she packed her things and headed to the airport. Only this time, there was a difference. She had decided to bring along a friend of hers who was relatively pure and innocent, Lisa. The two of them boarded the plane together, Lisa happily talking Jennie's ear off, having no idea what was in store for her. She was jittery the whole flight, anticipation and excitement flooding her. The thought of what was going to happen when she arrived...it made her want to finger herself right there with Lisa and the random-ass guy sitting in the seat next to her.

She disembarked the plane hastily with Lisa, waited very impatiently going through security, and took a cab to the familiar Radisson Blu hotel, where she settled down for a few hours of sleep before the morning.

...

The look of pure shock on Ngina's face when she saw Jennie, in her crop top and shorts, back on the bus was laughable, she stared for a moment and then recovered herself, going back to her clipboard to examine something. Jennie smirked and sat down near the front next to Lisa, watching the locals of Nairobi mill around by the bus stop. Once Ngina had counted her passengers and made sure everyone was there and that there were no stragglers, the bus engine started and they began moving. Jennie's excitement was reaching fever pitch, but she kept a calm outer demeanor. The scenery brought back vivid memories of her last visit, and as they pulled closer to the village, Jennie could see the massive Mugumo tree that had lead her and Somi into the trouble that had ultimately lead her to a Kenyan BBC addiction.

The village had run into some subtle improvements since Jennie had last been there; the houses and buildings had been renewed, the villagers clothes looked newer, and the architecture was slightly more modern and updated, and something that resembled an outmoded hotel was visible at the far end of the square. The massive baobab tree that Jennie and Somi had been tied to and whipped at last time was also clearly in sight, the thought sending a pang of anticipation through her body.

All the passengers disembarked the bus and entered the village, Ngina shaking hands with the leader, who looked mildly surprised to see Jennie back. The same could not be said for the other passersby, who stopped and openly stared in shock. Jennie approached the leader and extended her hand.

Taking her hand and shaking it, he said, "I never did catch your name, did I?"

"It's Jennie. You?"

"Jaali." He looked to Jennie's left and saw Lisa, who was standing there watching the exchange and had chosen to wear a very small and very tight white halter top and black shorts, which perfectly displayed her flawless figure. "I see you brought a spare."

"Indeed I did. This is Lisa." Lisa stepped forward and shook Jaali's hand, eyeing him and her surroundings very curiously.

Jaali stepped back, a cunning smirk on his face. "Very good. Well, have a look around, feel free to explore." His smirk widened. "I hear the Mugumo trees are very pretty this time of year."

"How funny, so did I." Jennie returned the devilish grin, both of them sharing a knowing smirk. "Be a shame if we didn't check them out."

He laughed. "Indeed. Well, I have matters to attend to, so I'd best be off. Enjoy yourselves."

Jennie and Lisa departed towards the large, open fields together. The word that Jennie was back spread very quickly, and various locals, especially the men, greeted Jennie as she passed and voiced how glad they were to see her again.

Jennie inwardly smirked and shook her head, since she knew well that everyone but Lisa knew what would be going on today. She wondered vaguely whether she and Lisa would be separated, or whether Lisa would consent to or enjoy what was bound to happen once they reached the Mugumo tree. The guard troop passed several times, each time a different member greeting Jennie and throwing a glance at her retreating form.

"Wow," commented Lisa the sixth time this happened, "you must be really popular down here. What, did you make friends with every person in Kenya?"

Jennie chuckled as they both sat down side by side on a large lakeside rock. "Sure I did. Plenty of guys, as well. You know me, you know I'm into black guys."

Lisa scoffed and laughed as well. "Of course you would."

They laughed together for a moment before Jennie spoke. "Hey, you never know what could go down."

Lisa's giggles came to a hushed silence. "You mean...with them?"

Jennie nodded, curious to see how Lisa felt about it. Lisa blinked a few times and then said, "Three letters. B. B. C!"

Jennie laughed again. "Shocking that you would think that way."

Lisa paused her giggling once more. "But seriously, did you actually?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Sure then. Whatever you say."

Jennie scoffed and then glanced toward the bank opposite them, spotting the massive Mugumo tree, fully in bloom, and the altar below it. The scenery was really quite beautiful, but as the guard troop passed by again, she had other things on her mind.

"Say, Lisa," Jennie said, still observing the tree, "you ever seen a Mugumo tree up close before?"

"No."

"Well, why don't we go see that one?" Jennie nodded towards the other bank. Lisa looked over at it and hopped up.

"Sure, let's go."

A small and insignificant part of Jennie felt guilty for leading her friend into such a trap, knowing that the level of pain, shame, and humiliation would match if not exceed that of last time, but that small part of her was drowned by the other parts of her, particularly parts in her lower region, that had sworn loyalty and developed addiction to the cocks of the tribesmen.

They approached the tree, Lisa making comments on how nice the leaves looked, and sat down on another rock near it. Before long, the small body of guards started moving steadily in their direction.

"That's odd," Jennie commented, fighting hard to keep the smirk off her face and her excitement down. "I wonder why they're coming over here? There's no one but us."

"No idea." Lisa yawned. "God, I should have had some coffee, I was up all night."

Inwardly, Jennie speculated that once the guards finished their trip over here, Lisa would very quickly forget her tiredness. The guards marched their way all the way up to the rock, and their leader took another step forward.

"This is a forbidden area, you must not trespass here. Come with us now."

"Oop," said Lisa as they got off the rock and followed the guards back towards the village. "Guess we weren't supposed to be there. Well, we didn't know."

"Yup. We'll probably just go back to Ngina now." Jennie knew full well that the words coming out of her mouth were blatant lies, but she ignored it as they were led into the village. Her excitement was almost making her tremble, but she kept it in.

The guards then split them up, just like last time. Lisa's cries of "Hey, wait!" were ignored by Jennie and the tribesmen. Jennie was brought to the same hut as last time, with the clay floor and thick wood centerpost. The tribesmen shoved her inside and then took their places in a circle around the hut. She would have removed her own clothes, but she really enjoyed how rough they were with her. Two stepped forward and tore off her top, not bothering to be careful. Then one of them knelt, grabbed her shorts by the front, and ripped them in two. To her surprise, they left her bra and panties alone, perhaps at the order of Jaali, and tied her hands in front of her, leaving her kneeling half-naked on the floor.

Speak of the devil, Jaali himself walked into the hut, wearing only the loincloth that the other tribesmen wore, unlike his usual expensive manner of dress. Jennie surveyed his muscular and fit figure as he paced around the small hut, feeling heat grow between her legs, finding herself growing exceedingly horny just at the sight of him.

"So, Miss Jennie," he said, the same devious grin on his face as earlier, "you find yourself the same predicament as a year ago." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Of course, since you are now a repeat offender, your punishment for such a heinous crime will be significantly more severe than last time."

He stopped directly in front of Jennie, looking down at her and allowing her a glimpse under his loincloth, both the sight and his words spiking her arousal up. He chuckled at her expression and resumed his pacing.

"I must commend you, however, for the new addition to my harem. Lisa, her name was? Quite a beauty. And in no time she, like you, wil become a cockslave to me."

There was a short pause, in which he made a half revolution of the hut. "I notice, as well, that your friend from last time has foolishly chosen to ignore my warning and stay away. Very well. She will regret it."

"How will you bring her back?" Jennie asked.

"I will send my best men to South Korea and find her. They are skilled and they will track her down and drag her back by the hair if they have to."

Jennie considered this for a moment, then realized something.

"I mean no disrespect, sir, but wouldn't a bunch of massive, smelly, half-naked Kenyan tribesmen draw a lot of attention?"

He snorted and paused in front of her, raising his eyebrows. "Surely you are smarter than that, Miss Jennie. This may appear to be a rural, run down little village, my little slut, but believe me, we are not living in the stone age anymore. I have ample equipment to disguise my men and make them fit in."

He shouted something in Swahili to the men outside the hut, of which Jennie could piece together as him requesting a chair. A heavy scraping sound sounded outside and the door opened, allowing two guards to push in a large, fancy, luxurious throne-esque chair, which they pushed up against the pillar in the center of the hut. Jaali sat down on it, unsheathed a knife from a sheath on the underside of one of the chair's arms, and handed it to a guard behind Jennie, who slashed the straps on her bra and both sides of her thong's waistband, removing both and leaving Jennie naked, wet, and desperate. The guard handed the knife back to Jaali, who cut off the string holding his loincloth together, removing it.

Jennie could practically feel her mouth watering at the sight of his cock; even semi-hard he was packing at least 7 inches. She waited for his order.

"Now, my little slave," he said, tossing the parasol leaf loincloth aside and spreading his legs slightly more, "come here and suck my cock like you mean it. Show me how much you want it."

Jennie crawled forward, sopping like a Korean rainstorm, and took his hardening shaft in both hands, slowly pumping up and down, feeling her arousal soar. She took his head into her mouth, sucking lightly. She had planned on starting slow, and she was doing so, but Jaali had other plans.

He grabbed her hair into a rough ponytail and forced her head down, sending half his length into her mouth and throat. "No one ever taught you how to suck a dick, slave?"

She moaned lightly around his dick, closing her eyes and letting him take control. Independent of him, she pushed her own head further down, pushing more of him into her.

"That's a good girl," he groaned quietly, controlling her head and moving it up and down. "Guards! Mfunge mikono!"

She didn't need to understand him, as his instruction was followed through. She felt her hands being tied together behind her back, at the same time as Jaali pulled her head down to his base, making her gag and moan. She was absolutely in love with this life, eager to serve and eager to please. She gagged again and choked as he did not release her head, thrusting his hips up into her face and driving his cock, if possible, deeper into her throat. She pushed her tongue out and licked along his balls, thoroughly enjoying being treated rough. Jaali moaned again, waited a moment, and then released her. She pulled her head off his shaft and gasped in a breath, but her moment of peace was short lived. She was turned around and shoved down, her face pressing into the cool clay floor. Jennie's heart rate increased, as she knew what was coming. A moment later she gave a gasp and a broken moan as a large cock slid into her tight, wet pussy, filling her to the brim. She had never felt so stuffed before in her life, and the sensation of the tip of a cock against her cervix when he bottomed out made her moan louder.

"Fuck!" She cried. "You're so big...master..."

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Seems she knows her place better than I thought."

No further words were exchanged as he started thrusting his hips, slow at first, but quickly getting much faster, and in a matter of seconds Jennie was shrieking in pleasure and her legs were trembling with the effort of supporting her pleasure-riddled body. The continued assault on her pussy drove her crazy.

"Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, oh my god, please keep going! Fuck, you're so big! Keep pounding me!"

He pushed on her head and grabbed her breast, squeezing tightly. Jennie felt herself rapidly careening into the first orgasm of many that day.

"You like that, huh? You fucking slut, all nice and wet for me."

"Yes, I love it..." Jennie whimpered softly, brow furrowing at his deep strokes. "I-I'm a slut for you, master..."

"Good girl." He kicked up his speed and fucked her faster, automatically increasing force. Jennie's "Ah!"s became exponentially louder and within seconds, she gave a wail of bliss and squirted hard on his cock, her cheeks growing hotter as well.

"Fuck, Jennie, I can see why you're a crowd favorite!" He groaned. "God, you're tight!"

He pulled out and yanked her upright, slapping her face with his dick. Immediate lay understanding, she dove forward and shoved him all the way down her throat, desperate to taste his cum in her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down very quickly, sounds of deepthroat reverberating in the timbers of the hut.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth, slave. Are you ready?"

Jennie let out a muffled "Yes, master!" around his cock before slamming her head down again, driving every last millimeter of his length down her throat. She gagged hard and coughed muffledly, but kept herself there, throat squeezing him. He gave one final loud groan, grabbed her roughly by the hair, and pulled her into his crotch, before exploding in her throat, straight down into her stomach. She slid off him slowly, savoring the taste of his thick cum, while he sat panting on the chair. She over balanced and fell on her side, still breathing heavily.

Jaali stood up and then squatted down in front of her, turning her languid hesd towards him. "I expect a performance of that standard every single time I use you, is that clear?"

"Yes, master," said Jennie, practically seeing hearts, as she looked at him.

"I must now go and sort out your friend, who will submit to me soon enough. I will leave you to my men." He walked to the door, and as the tribesmen approached, he threw a smirk oved his shoulder. "Have fun."

Jennie wished she could see Lisa get dominated, but she had no time to think about that as the men approached. Loincloths were removed, and suddenly she was surrounded by 5 large dicks, all stiff and ready to pound her.

She was grabbed and raised to a kneeling position, in which the man with the biggest cock slid under her, and pushed into her still-wet pussy, making her gasp loudly and moan in both pleasure and slight pain. He was incredibly big inside her, stretching her out considerably. Another moved in front of her and she opened her mouth obediently, allowing him in. The shaft that entered her ass, thus completing the trio, brought back strong déja vu from a year back, and she moaned louder as all three started pumping fast and hard. This feeling of being completely full, it was what she had missed so bad, and now it caused her more pleasure than ever before.

"Fuck!" Jennie moaned around the cock in her mouth as the man fucking her ass reached around her and choked her, none too carefully or lightly. She gagged as the cock was thrust deeper into her throat, her eyes rolling as she stuck out her tongue and allowed t deeper still, until he bottomed out.

All three of them groaned, and one of the other two cut the ropes binding her hands, allowing her to stroke him and his counterpart. The six of them moaned and grunted in various languages, tumbling down towards the inevitable orgasm that awaited all of them. Jennie could understand a couple of them degrading her in Swahili, which only served to turn her on more, and she felt the familiar buildup going sky high as their thrusts increased in strength and speed.

Then the hand on her throat tightened considerably as the first orgasm of the group erupted in her ass; she moaned at the spurts of warmth flooding her suddenly, and the pulsing in her tight hole. Her continued deepthroat sounds were turning her on, making her wetter, and the man fucking her pussy got an ample dousing of organic lube. His thrusts became less inhibited, faster, more slick, and he finally buried himself deep inside her, and the first shot of cum deep inside her womb made her throw her head back, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp, the sheer depth of it having her stunned and pleasured. The man in front of her grabbed her hair impatiently and shoved his cock back into her throat, and she gagged again, eyes rolling back as he bottomed out, groaning loudly.

Jennie closed her eyes and let the pleasure and arousal take over, allowing her submission to control her. She bobbed her head back and forth on the tribesman in front of her, driving him in and out of her throat, pushing him closer to his climax. Suddenly, the two others she had been stroking moved behind her, and she gasped, choked on the sudden inhale of saliva, and whipped her head around as the sensation of two cocks pressing against her asshole invaded her. She had never been double penetrated in one hole before, and she had the feeling it might not be as pleasurable as single anal penetration. With a fair amount of spit, they managed to push into her tight hole, causing her a great deal of pain and pleasure. She moaned out of both, but dutifully turned back to the other, jamming his cock back into her mouth. Both men behind her began furiously thrusting into her, seemingly enjoying her cries of both pleasure and pain. The guy in front then assumed a new position; one that benefitted all three remaining gangbangers. He lay down on his back, sliding his thick legs under her, so his cock was pointing straight up. She quickly brought her upper half down, so her ass was in the air, opening up her hole better, and brought her head down on the shaft hard, plunging it down her throat in one smooth motion. She furrowed her eyebrows in the effort of keeping it there; the new position allowed for better leverage and more penetration in her throat, it wasn't easy.

As her throat contracted around him and she massaged the underside with her tongue, he gave an almighty groan and grabbed her by the head, pulling her down still further as he blew his load in her throat, straight into her stomach, and her eyes rolled back once again as she struggled not to choke and spit his cum out. She pulled off him, swallowed with difficulty, then looked him in the eye, biting her lip in arousal.

Her seductive look was interrupted by a moan and her eyebrows arching upward as one of the two behind her started roughly fingering her clit, making her arch her back and buck her hips against them, crying out wildly at the sudden burst of pleasure. The other pushed her head into the ground, allowing him to see her side-profile moan. He leaned forward, putting more weight on her grounded face, railing her into the floor. Her entire body quaked under the force of the impacts, the strokes, rocking her prostrate form. Each and every blow to her ass made her tremble. She felt her limp hands being tied together again, something she didn't object to in the least. It made her feel controlled, helpless. And she loved it.

The man in front of her, now sitting comfortably on a wide pillow, grabbed her hair and yanked her face up, allowing him to see her pleasure-addled face. Her eyebrows were curved upwards, eyes closed, and she bit her lip at his roughness. She opened her unfocused eyes slightly and looked at him, letting out a small "ah" at a particularly hard thrust from behind her.

"You're a good obedient whore, hm?" He spoke in a thick accent, but not indecipherable. She didn't answer immediately, trying to think clearly past her haze of bliss. He slapped her roughly, making her yelp and give a quiet moan.

"Yes...master..." Jennie moaned out, giving a louder cry as three additional fingers were shoved into her pussy, adoring the roughness and the degradation. "I'm a...fuck...g-good little slut for you...master..."

He chuckled and let go of her hair, allowing her face to fall back into the floor. "Yes you are. Good girl."

Jennie moaned again. How could she ever go back to Korea? How in her right mind would she ever give this feeling up? As one of them behind her slapped her ass viciously, making her yelp louder, and she threw an arched-eyebrows lip bite over her shoulder, which earned her another slap on the ass. She moaned a vague plea for more, and the two kept up the spanks.

"Fuck..." She said softly, a small squeal escaping her lips at an especially hard spank. "I'm gonna cum..."

Her head was pulled up and she looked with hazy eyes into those of the man now relaxing on the pillow, who smirked. "You're going to what?"

"C-cum, master..." Jennie repeated, her voice trembling slightly, the pleasure reaching fever pitch inside her. "It's so good...so f-fucking good..."

He moved closer and pressed his cock against her lips, to which she gave a long lick, and then took it into her mouth, slowly moving back and forth. She moaned around his thickness, and with stifled groans, both men fucking her ass orgasmed simultaneously, sending another tirade of hot cum deep into her bowels. Her moans increased in volume dramatically, and she pulled off the cock in her mouth to vocalize her pleasure.

With a scream, she squirted intensely all over the thighs of the two behind her, yelling her lungs out as her world disappeared in a whirlpool of bliss. She was no longer aware of anything; all she knew was the pleasure of being the cockslave of this tribe. She panted heavily, slumping to the floor as all three men backed off. Faintly, she heard a very similar scream rent the air, and she immediately knew it was Lisa succumbing to the pleasure as well.

A sheen of sweat covered her entire body. She could feel cum starting to leak out of her ass and pussy, and as she returned to full consciousness, she heard footsteps approaching. Jaali entered the tent, a large and satisfied smile on his face, and she turned onto her back to see him.

"Did it work...master?" Jennie said breathlessly, chest heaving. She pulled herself upright as he approached.

"Very well, I'd say." He smiled wider. "She hasn't fully complied yet, and she's still acting a bit defiant, but that'll be fixed very soon. My men have done a good job so far. Soon enough she, too, will realize that she has no choice. The pleasure will get to her."

Jennie knew quite well what was coming next, and she was both excited and scared. It was quite painful last time, though she had enjoyed it in a way. But this time, he had said it would be more severe. She shivered, even though it was at least 40 degrees outside.

"So now," Jaali continued, "I believe you are aware of our next step?"

Jennie nodded, a small smirk tugging at her lips despite her fear of the possible intensity this time. The guards moved forward and grabbed her by the upper arms, pulling her upright. They marched her outside, where a crows had assimilated and she could see Lisa's slim naked form waiting by the huge baobab tree in the village square. Among the many emotions Jennie could see in Lisa's eyes, betrayal and hurt were not detectable. What was detectable was pleasure, adoration, slight confusion, and excitement. Despite having experienced this exact situation before, her modesty had been somewhat recovered during her year in back Seoul, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as her naked body was exposed to the crowd. However, she made no attempt to cover herself and allowed herself to be led up to the baobab tree. The guards lifted her onto the brick tree ring, and one climbed up after her. He tied another rope around the one binding her hands, fashioned the other end into a noose and threw it up over the branch of the tree, tightening it so she couldn't move her arms. Lisa's arms were also tied above her head, and as the guard retreated, she turned her head to look at Jennie.

The guard started professing their crime to the crowd gathered, and Lisa said three words to her.

"Did you know?"

Jennie was silent for a moment, considering whether or not she should tell the truth. Finally she looked at her and spoke.

"Yes, I did."

Lisa snorted. "So you led me into this on purpose?"

Jennie thought she was angry, but she then smiled. "Can't say I expected something like this to happen, but I like it."

"Wait - you're okay with this?"

Lisa smiled wider. "Didn't you hear me earlier? BBC! I wasn't talking about the news corporation, I knew we'd be doing that kinda stuff with them."

In spite of what she had just said, Jennie looked away. "I'm sorry."

"But why?" Lisa questioned. "We came here both knowing what would probably happen, you just knew more of it than me."

The voice of the guard and the usual angry shouts subsided from behind them, and Jennie looked over her shoulder. The box of whips and punishing tools was being brought out again, and Jennie could see a few cat-o-nine tails hanging over the edge of it. Jennie's heart skipped a beat; they had refrained from using the cat-o-nines last time, but since it would be more severe, would they this time? A cold sweat gathered at her hairline. She knew that, even though she would enjoy being punished with their other implements, she would not enjoy that.

Lisa looked around as well and her face went pale. "Wait...wait, they won't use the spiky ones on us, will they?"

Jennie breathed out a heavy exhale. "They won't use them on you. They might for me...since it's my second time doing this. I really hope not though..."

The two guards in charge of punishing them approached the box, dug around in it momentarily, and one pulled out the barbed whip. Jennie's eyes went wide and a stab of fear tore through her. But she experienced heavy relief as the other one grabbed his hand to stop him, shaking his head and irritatedly saying something in Swahili. The other protested, and the reasonable one raised his voice slightly, which allowed Jennie to hear and understand what he was saying.

"No, you sadistic idiot!" He said in impatient Swahili. "We're punishing the girls, not tearing them apart!"

The one holding the barbed whip put it back, looking sullen. The other one continued digging around, shaking his head and muttering incredulously. Jennie thought a silent blessing on him for his mercy and breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart rate jumped up drastically as they finally settled on a pair of flexible riding crops, pumping her excitement up. She was a pain slut and she knew it. They approached holding the tools, and Lisa whipped her head around to look at Jennie.

"How long do they do it?"

"Not long," Jennie replied, shifting into a comfortable position and preparing for her punishment. "Enough to hurt, though. But don't worry," she continued, smiling deviously, "you'll enjoy-"

Her sentence was interrupted by a vicious smack to her ass by the crop. She cried out loudly in the middle of her sentence and Lisa gave a small squeal at her first strike. And then the second stroke came. And the third. The fourth. The fifth. Jennie, through her haze of pain and pleasure, saw Jaali sitting on his chair by a different hut 10 yards away with his ankles crossed, a drink in his hand, observing the scene. He saw her looking at him and raised his glass mockingly, his smirk visible even from this distance.

She yelped louder at a particularly hard stroke. So far, she thought, this was not more severe than last time, in fact it was more mild. No sooner had she thought this than the crops were put away, and she caught a glimpse of the bullwhips from last time when she looked back. Lisa shot a glance over at her calm, composed demeanor.

"Well, you were right, it isn't as bad as I thought it would be. And I do kinda like it."

A loud, sharp crack cut through the air and Lisa shrieked in pain, eyes wide from the shock of such a drastic increase in intensity. A faint red streak was visible on her ass. A second later Jennie felt a stinging pain on her own ass, and she yelled out as well. Lisa got whipped again, and she gave another howl, eyes screwing up.

"Ow!" She cried, tears welling in her eyes. "It hurts!"

Jennie got her next lash, and she felt tears springing to her own eyes, purely from the pain of it. At a glance to her right, she saw Lisa's pained and tearful eyes looking back at her, her mouth opening in another cry at her next lash. They were each given 12 more lashes and then the bullwhips were put away. Behind her, Jennie heard a man's voice, shouting in Swahili.

"Turn around!"

Jennie turned to face the crowd obediently, but Lisa didn't move, not understanding the command. Jennie opened her mouth to tell Lisa what he'd said, then another crack sounded and Lisa wailed again.

"He says turn around, Lisa."

Lisa turned around hurriedly to face the crowd as well, and a pink tint appeared in her tear-streaked cheeks at the lecherous jeers of the onlookers. She crossed one thigh over her pussy a bit, in a minimal effort to decrease the humiliation, but a warning look from a guard was enough for her to put it back down. She let her leg relax, letting the crowd have an unadulterated view of her naked and abused body, hanging her head in shame. In a way Jennie felt sorry for her, but that thought was strangled by the sight of Jaali walking over from his chair. The guards stood at attention and bowed their heads respectfully, and he climbed up to where Jennie was, surveying with approval the marks left on her and Lisa's bodies. He stepped right in front of her and spoke into her ear, roughly grabbing her sore ass.

"Do you think we should bring out the kitties, little slut?"

Jennie could only assume he was referencing the tails, to which she frantically shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, master."

Jaali chuckled. "Very well."

He walked behind her, delivered a painful slap to both of their asses, and then walked back to his chair with a single shouted word.

"Kuanza!" ("Commence!")

While Jaali had been talking to Jennie, the guards had gotten out two thin wooden canes and were now preparing to strike. Jennie gulped and steeled herself as much as possible, and completely lost her composure as the first lash landed directly on her nipple.

"FUCK!" She screamed, jerking away as much as possible. It stung way worse than last time, and she had not been prepared for the level of agony it caused. Lisa spouted a similar shriek at her first hit.

And so it continued for dozens of lashes, each stroke becoming more agonizing, until they stopped, leaving the two girls panting heavily, moaning in pain and covered in red streaks. Despite the intense stinging pain she was feeling, Jennie couldn't deny that her pussy was absolutely drenched, and she found herself wanting more. Then she spotted her punisher eyeing her pussy as though about to hit it with the switch.

"Please..." Jennie said quietly, almost to herself, "No..."

Despite her arousal, she knew that being whipped there with that switch would be absolute hell. He seemed to consider it, but shook his head and put away the switch. This time around they used different tools. Perhaps since it was Lisa's first time, they went easier on her this round. Her punisher brought out a multi-tasseled leather flogger, and Jennie's retrieved an old-fashioned Russian knout, thankfully designed without wire. It was, Jennie thought, like a more intense version of Lisa's flogger.

The guards approached once more, holding their different implements of punishment. Jennie saw what was coming an instant before it did - the crowd gave a collective gasp as each of the two girls was struck violently in the pussy with their respective whips. But instead of a shriek of pain, both of them let out moans of pleasure.

"Ooooh..." Jennie moaned, as the guards drew their arms back once more. "Now you like it, huh, Lisa?"

Lisa gave a cute yelp as she was struck between her thighs again. "Mmm, yeah..."

The next upswing hit her directly in the clit, eliciting a high pitched "ahh" and upping her arousal. Lisa moaned again, a barely perceptible buck of her hips signaling her pleasure.

"Harder!" Jennie cried as she was whipped again, desperate for her release. "Fucking whip me harder!"

The guard didn't understand the words she said, but could clearly decipher her tone because his uppercuts increased in force and frequency. She felt herself drawing nearer to an orgasm from pain alone, though the strikes caused her intense pleasure from it. Lisa's cries also got louder as she too approached her orgasm.

"Fuck," Lisa gasped, chest heaving, "I'm gonna cum!"

Jennie only moaned in reply, giving a loud "ah" at her punisher's swing. But then there was a pause in the pleasure pain. Jaali had roused himself from his chair and was making his way through the crowd as Lisa's shouts continued, and after a quick word with Jennie's guard he took the knout from him and turned to face Jennie. There was a moment of silence, broken only by her counterpart's broken whimper, wherein Jaali and Jennie looked each other in the eye, and Jennie knew she was about to cum.

With a slight cock of his head, Jaali brought his hand down and then swung it up into her soaking wet pussy. Then again. And on the third strike, he calculated his movement, let his hand fall, and then brought up a stinging, painful, blissful strike into her. Every tassel of the ten-tail knout was felt, each landing an exquisite sting on a different spot. Her clit, her entrance, her lips, everything was hit in a magnificent blow. And this was what drove her over the edge.

With a final shriek, voicing her pleasure, she squirted explosively all over the place; droplets of her cum showered the tree ring and everything below her. It only took a few more strikes for Lisa to reach her orgasm as well; lithe body writhing, she squirted hard on the tree ring below her too. The two of them hung limp against their bonds, chests heaving.

Jaali climbed up to stand in front of the crowd, back to the two bound girls, and starting speaking loudly in Swahili to the audience.

"You see this?" He gestured at the two of them. "These two degenerate whores have just orgasmed before your eyes, from a public whipping! They are aroused by pain and humiliation! Now that you have seen with your own eyes the level of decadence these licentious sluts show, I leave them to you. I trust that you will handle them appropriately."

The crowd, especially the men, cheered at the last two sentences, and the mob converged. The rope on Jennie's hands was sawed off and she was dragged onto the ground with Lisa. Jennie felt a mass of hands groping and fingering her, to which she moaned quietly. She was pulled to a kneeling position, at which time someone tied a piece of cloth into her mouth, keeping her from talking. A hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, and a few more restrained her hands behind her back. She felt a lukewarm substance being daubed across her breasts and cleavage, but she couldn't decipher the words from feeling alone. The hand gripping her hair was pulling very hard, and Jennie gritted her teeth at the pain. Yet another hand grabbed her by the neck and tightened its grip until she was gasping, and several more slapped whatever parts of her were accessible. She felt blows land on her ass, pussy, breasts, face, thighs, and other spots. She managed to turn her head enough to see Lisa, who was being treated the same way, and black clay paint which had been roughly smeared across her breasts spelled "Kahaba" (Whore). An unknown someone slapped her face hard enough to knock her over, but she was steadied by the thirty hands grasping her.

Jennie's mind was a whirlwind of chaos and mixed emotions, and the only things that resonated with her brain were the pleasure of being caressed and fingered and the pain of being slapped, spanked, and abused. Bodies and noise pressed in on her. Her hair was released, and she looked down at her chest to see the same clay paint, which spelled "Malkia Kahaba" (Queen Whore). Her cheeks grew hot again, but that was nothing compared to Lisa's. Lisa's face could have been easily mistaken for a beetroot, it was so red.

The two were dragged onto their feet. Jennie's hands were tied behind her back, and she was pushed forward. She could't see where they were going, or where she was being led, but the crowd was marching her and Lisa somewhere, and by the noise of the crowd behind her, she could tell she was at the front of it. Gasps and shouts were heard from who was presumably villagers who hadn't been made aware of the situation. Blindfolded, gagged, tied, and naked, she was paraded through the village, shown to everyone who hadn't already been at the gathering. As humiliated and ashamed as she was, she couldn't ignore the heat building up between her legs again. Was she really being turned on by this?

Then someone in the lead of the crowd shouted in gleeful Swahili, something like "I got it!"

Jennie didn't know what he was talking about, but all the was concentrating on was keeping her arousal to a minimum, since her thighs were rubbing together a lot as she walked. But then, out of nowhere, something flat and something that stung hit her ass, and she gave a loud cry, not expecting the sudden pain. They had broken out the crops again, and Lisa let out a similar squeal a second after. Jennie's ass was already sore from its earlier abuse, and the sting was made much worse now. But each hit not only send a jolt of pain through her, but one of pleasure as well. She struggled to keep her moans at bay, and was battling to keep herself from cumming again. She was fighting on multiple fronts, including her own front, and soon enough the armies of pleasure would overtake her defense.

And sure enough, when the crop was brought up into her pussy, she folded. Her entire body shook with the effort of controlling itself, and she bit the cloth in her mouth hard to keep herself from yelling out. A stream of cum leaked out despite her best efforts. The leaders of the mob noticed her decrease in pace and pushed her to keep walking, thankfully not noticing her orgasm. Her whole body felt hot and shaky, whether that was from arousal or humiliation she didn't know.

Before she knew it, they had made a full circle of the village, and her blindfold and gag were removed. While they had been away, some remaining helpers had constructed two large structures that vaguely resembled spits for cooking meat, which were made up of two vertical wooden poles with an adjoining horizontal pole on top, both of which having been laid down on the ground. The crowd had assimilated more members on its tour of the village, and various members were shouting something Jennie couldn't understand over the noise. But she and Lisa were each forced onto one of the respective spits. Jennie's hands were tied to the top pole, and each of her feet was tied to the two outer poles, spread-eagling her across it. Then a rope was tied onto each of her thighs and then connected to the top pole, to support her and make sure she didn't fall. She looked to the side and saw Lisa in the same position, everything on display for the villagers. Tears were gathered in her eyes, but she didn't seem to be too opposed to her current situation.

The crowd left them alone momentarily while they held an internal discussion, no doubt debating how to humiliate the two girls further. They seemed to come to a unanimous conclusion, and the two were suddenly surrounded by men. Jennie got a brief glimpse of the surrounding houses before the mob of guys closed in. And in every direction, they all pulled out their cocks, and in every direction they started stroking their cocks.

Jennie understood their purpose now. She and Lisa would be covered in cum and raised on their spits to be displayed to all passersby. She was mortified at the idea of it, but the idea also sent a thrill of excitement through her and a fresh wave of slick to her lower region.

It was only a couple of minutes before the cum started flowing; Jennie gasped as the first spurt of cum landed directly on her hypersensitive pussy, and then the floodgates were opened and dozens more hit every part of her that was reachable. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of each white spray covering her body. They focused much of it on her face, but eventually they covered her whole figure with streaks of white cum. A final spurt landed on her outstretched tongue, and then the men dispersed. Her spit was heaved and hoisted into a standing position, leaving her hanging naked about six feet above the ground, well in view of everyone.

And after a few minutes of jeers, ogling and shame, the crowd dispersed and Jennie found herself in a similar position to last time: naked, tied, abandoned, and humiliated. She looked over and locked eyes with Lisa to her left. Tear tracks adorned her beet-red cheeks.

"You okay?" Jennie asked in Korean, so the remaining locals and guards wouldn't understand.

"Yes," Lisa replied, giving a small struggle against her bonds, "I'm good. And you know what?"

"What?"

Lisa suddenly smiled. "You were right, I did like it."

Jennie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really? All that, and you enjoyed it?"

Lisa nodded. "But fuck - that hurt. A lot."

Jennie grinned. "That's what makes it good, isn't it?"

Lisa giggled. "You're a really big fucking slut, you know that?" She sighed. "How long do you think we'll be up here?"

Jennie shrugged, as much as was possible with her arms splayed out. "As long as it takes for the guards to get horny again."

Lisa shivered at the thought. "Damn, that felt amazing..."

"Yes, now you see why I was so eager to come back."

"So what happens next?"

"You'll probably be taken down, then fucked again, then the tribe leader will offer you the option of being this tribe's sex slave. You can go back to Korea with me as long as you come back with me every year."

"Not that I will, but if I refuse?" Lisa asked.

"Prison, in which case the same outcome happens."

"Well, even if I had a choice I would still become their slave. Because god...I can't resist that..."

Jennie laughed. "Now who's a slut?"

"Heyyy!" Lisa protested. "I'm not a slut, it's just...well..."

"Who said there's anything wrong with that?" Jennie chuckled.

Lisa blushed. "Ok fine...I'm a slut."

"That's better."

It was about half an hour more that they hung there, with the occasional goggling passerby, talking. But then a small body of guards approached and took the spits down, untying the two girls and dragging them to their feet. Then their hands were tied behind their backs again, and their blindfolds were replaced.

No fanfare was bothered with and no privacy was cared for as the guards removed their loincloths and bent the two over on their knees. Jennie had no time to react whatsoever before a thick, long, and hard cock entered her pussy from behind, and another pushed against her lips until she opened them, which she did, gladly welcoming the shaft into her mouth. Both dicks quickly reached their maximum depth and bottomed out, making Jennie moan and gag simultaneously. She was very sensitive everywhere from the day's abuse and manhandling, and the man fucking her pussy was taking no care to be gentle. Nor was the one in front, who was savagely fucking her throat with no consideration for her rapidly emptying lungs. She choked on the thick meat filling her throat, trying to draw breath, but to no avail. He thrusted his hips forward fully, shoving his entire cock into her throat, keeping her from inhaling anything but his precum. She gagged, trying to pull away, but he held her head there, making her eyes roll back. She choked again, inadvertently jerking, her throat being stretched out by his thick cock. She desperately coughed and choked, fearing that he would facefuck her to unconsciousness, but then he let her go, pulling out of her throat. She gasped in a breath, coughing and panting. He gave her a moment's rest before starting throatfucking her again, but he didn't hold her down. Quick, hard thrusts were given from both sides, and again she felt herself drawing nearer to a climax. She had lost count of how many she'd achieved, but the number, whatever it was, had left her very sensitive and very delicate, and she was loving being absolutely demolished by the tribesmen. They gave no regard for her sensitivity, uninhibitedly drilling her with relentless abandon. Similar noises came from Lisa to Jennie's right; her cute deepthroat sounds and moans could be heard even over Jennie's own.

Then she heard a groan from behind her and a moment later, a deluge of hot cum filled her pussy, shooting deep inside her. The sudden torrent of warmth triggered her oncoming peak as well, and a gush of cum streamed out of her. Her loud "ahhhhng" was muffled and absorbed by the cock in her throat, and its owner succumbed to the orgasmic pleasure Jennie's mouth gave him, and finally buried himself inside it, releasing his load deep down her throat.

The two were given a minute to recover, breathing heavily, until they were heaved to their bedraggled feet once more.

"Well, see you." Lisa called to Jennie in Korean, excitement easily distinguishable in her voice, and then they were led their separate ways. Jennie nodded at her and allowed herself to be steered away towards the sex hut. Jaali was waiting there, in his chair which was pushed against the center post. He gave a small smirk at the sight of her, cheeks flushed and red, naked, covered in semi-dry cum and whip marks, and pushed onto her knees.

"Enjoyed yourself, little slut?"

"Yes, I have, master."

"Last time, of course, you were offered a choice, which I will be giving to your friend once I'm done here. This time, you having already accepted the better option, you have another choice. You can, of course, return to Korea, and await this time next year. But," he continued, a small smirk curling his lips, "our hospitable village would be willing to play host to you and your friend, should you wish to stay a little bit longer to enjoy our...amenities."

Jennie was silent for a moment, and then smiled widely.

A/N: Jesus Christ, it's about time I put this out. It might've been a bit rushed. It's been pretty fun writing this series, and you know I can't leave it like that, so a part 3 will be in order in about...ten years. You're welcome.

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 (here) | ...

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Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, Paimon, Traveler

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. There is a taglist if you want to be tagged. Also, I may say that the characters other than the reader may be a bit OOC cause it's been a long time since I played genshin and I'm just finishing all of my works with my knowledge left from playing the game. So sorry about it 🙏🙏.

ALSO, sorry for the inconsistent updates. I'm busy with uni and my job so, I have very little time to write.

____________________________________

'Oh no no no. It's the Traveler and Paimon. Shit! What do I do? What do I do?' You're heart is beating so fast that it might just pop out of your chest anytime. It felt like eternity, just looking at both of them, it's as is if time is slowing down. 'Should I just fake dead? No, that will make them worried then come up to me and then- OH NO!' You eyes widen in horror as the two come near you with worry etched in their faces.

"Uhm. Hello? Are you okay?" Paimon with her high pitched voice asked you. "Are you hurt somewhere?" The Traveler extended a hand, offering to help you up from the floor where you were sprawled upon.

[Reader.exe has stopped working. Brain circuit has malfunctioned. Attempting to restart... Failed. Reloading...]

You looked at them absentmindedly, your brain struggling to process the situation. "Huh?" The Traveler, noticing your distress, gently carried you and placed you back in your chair. They wiped the tears from your face with a handkerchief, their touch warm and comforting.

"Hmm. Traveler. don't you think that this place kind of resembles a restaurant of some sort? Or like Puspa Café? But just more... uh advanced???" Paimon flew around the Café, examining each and every corner. "And it smells so lovely in here." She kicked her feet in the air while giggling as she looked at the pastry you had on your plate hungrily.

The Traveler nodded but their attention was still on you who looked like as if their soul was going to heaven. 'As expected, they do seem familiar and their aura... Where have I felt this?'

As you sat in your chair, dazed and just all in all trying to process what is going on, the Traveler placed their hand in your shoulder. the warmth in their hand seemed to have had woken you up in your stupor. "Take a deep breathe. You seem quite overwhelmed by the situation." Gently their voice was. They noticed your drink in the table and slowly pushed it towards you. "Drink first, water would have been better but I can't seem to find any."

"Sorry for startling you. We didn't mean any harm." The Traveller smiled as friendly as they could. "I'm Traveller and she is my companion, Paimon. May I know your name?"

"Uhm... My name is... (Reader)..." you introduced yourself, voice still shaky. "(Reader)... That's a lovely name!" Paimon chipped.

"Oh, yes. I almost forgot. Can we know where this place might be? This place is quite different from what we are used to and as you have seen earlier, we came from that door. The door appeared during one of our commisions and our curiosity led us here. It will be quite helpful to know where we are as of now." The Traveler slowly told you, thinking that you still might be startled at the moment.

"Ah. This is a Café and I'm the owner..." you explained, trying to regain your composure.

"I see." The Traveller nodded and seemed to be in a deep train of thought at your answer.

"WAHH! Traveller! Look! Look!" Paimon squealed. She flew to the Traveller and urged them to come with her. "Wait! Paimon! Slow down will you-" Silence. An eerie silence washed over your building. It was getting awkward so you had decided to walk over to them and try to explain the very advanced planet you live in.

As you approached the duo, you coughed, albeit awkwardly, and cleared your throat. "Uhm yeahh... As you can see outside of the window, this world is not the same as your world. It's quite baffling, right? I was also the same when I saw your world on the other side of the door." You scratched your cheek.

"What is this place?" Paimon said in awe, continuing to look at the scenery outside. The Traveler just continued looking outside speechlessly, eyes darting to one thing ot another. Then suddenly your eyes widened at a realization but you still kept yourself calm.

You explained to them softly, "The planet where you are in is called Earth and we are currently in (country name) situated in (where your country is)." While they where admiring the scenery, you took a quick silent run towards the shelf where the standees of genshin impact where situated at and roughly shoved them inside an unused cabinet.

"Oh yeah, what's your planet called?" You feigned ignorance of knowing who they already are. After all, if you somehow learned that you were just a game character, what would you feel? Wouldn't you feel so detached? or something along those lines and you don't want the both of them to go into a spiral of depression and continuous questions. It's also because you don't know what kind of excuse you will make if they ever saw the standees. It's only a miracle they didn't see it earlier.

"Oh uh, we're from somewhere called Teyvat. We're currently staying at Mondstadt due to some personal bussiness." The Traveler replied.

"I see. Teyvat... I have never heard of that. Come, sit here. Choose anything you guys want, except for the *cough* pastries cause they are only going to be delivered tomorrow. Also, my treat!" You winked at them as you gestured for them to seat at a table.

"You don't have to treat us to this. We will pay you for your service." The Traveler quickly told you. "Oh please, I insist. Besides, you guys are my first customers. Now, choose what drinks and snacks you would want in the menu." The Traveler wanted to refuse again but refusing twice would be quite impolite and you seem quite the person who would not go against what they say and stick to it no matter what so, they accepted their defeat with a soft sigh and begun browsing through the menu.

"WOAH! All of the drinks and foodsin the menu look and sound so amazingg! I can't choose!" Paimon squealed. Actually, you were quite suprised that Paimon has her very first voice and not the new one. Her squeals are more tolerable and she doesn't sound like a pig going to be butchered.

After minutes of them painstakingly choosing what they want and consulting you on what some of drinks are, they finally decided on what they want. Creamy Caramel Mocha for Paimon and Hazelnut Coffee for the Traveler.

(Note: I just randomly choose what I think they would want from the drinks I have already tasted so it might contrast with what you guys think they would like.)

You went behind the counter and proceeded to make their orders while you guys talk and ask each other about you guy's worlds, of course with you feigning ignorance even though you already know most of the lore.

_________________________________________

Without any of you three knowing, you lost track of time and soon it was evening. You had so much fun teaching them about Earth and listening to their tales of adventure on Teyvat. Paimon even provided you with an extensive list of her favorite foods from each nation, in case you ever decided to visit Teyvat. Nonetheless, you feel grateful but you don't know when you will go to their world but probably when you have a glock in hand would be the best time to go there. For now, you were content to cherish the memories you had made alongside them.

It was now time to say goodbye. You feel kind of sad since you have bonded with them much more in this short time but it's time to let go. Maybe there will be another next time or maybe not but, you are sure that you will wait again for the time they will come back again even if it's a long time. After all, they are still looking for their sibling so they may not have that much time to be able to visit you.

With a heavy heart, you packed some of the leftover pastries to give them as a farewell gift. "Wahhh! Thank you (Reader)!" Paimon exclaimed, tackling you in a grateful hug. "The next time we come here, we'll be sure to bring some delicious treats from Teyvat!"

The Traveler looked at you warmly. "Thank you (Name). I'll make sure to bring the finest sweets next time we meet." They stepped forward and embraced you gently. "Although our time together was brief, I cherished every moment."

"Me too..." you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. Standing before the door, you gently waved them a farewell as they prepared to depart. The Traveler and Paimon returned your wave, their faces reflecting the same emotions you felt. With a deep breath, they turned and stepped through the threshold, embarking on their continued journey.

As you watched them depart, you couldn't help but feel a bittersweet longing. But you knew that their paths would cross again, and you would be waiting, ready to welcome them back with open arms and a fresh batch of pastries.

_________________________________________

Taglist:

@kameyo-kumo

@esthelily

@haru-tofuu

@udretlnea

@shining-nebula2000

@ifeellikejumpingoffacliff

@resident-cryptid

@allblognamesaretakenlikereally

@leilakaro

@stvrbrighttt

@chericia

@evaline-ethan

@ra404

@mmmhyperfixation

[revehae]

OMG i completely forgot about incel!jisung repost it pleasepleasepleaseplspls 🙏🏻🙏🏻

tw // thoughts of noncon, incel ideology

jisung thought about your sounds when he was jerking off, fisting his own cock roughly into his clenched fist, only tightening when he imagined you with somebody else. sometimes, he didn’t even need to pry them out of his vivid vault of memories, able to hear his roommate strumming you to ecstasy through the thin wall that acted as one of many boundaries separating you from him.

upon many other distinct noises, but he’d rather ignore those. they made his jaw clench and his rage heighten, which to be fair, so did the sound of you taking pleasure in getting dicked down by another man, but at least you sounded sweet enough for him to ignore that part. temporarily.

he thought about those high-pitched, squeaky noises that his roommate never failed to pluck out of you when he was doing mundane things like shopping and folding laundry, boring things like sitting in class when he should’ve been jotting down notes for his professor’s lecture.

but more importantly, more ceaselessly than the way you tantalize him every waking minute, jisung thought of turning your shrill, delicate moans into mangled, blood-curdling screams. especially when there was a crude, twisted porno draped over his computer screen. she deserves it, he thought crassly, for being so arrogant.

it was naturally so much less complicated for you, getting sex whenever you wanted. sometimes haechan boasted about it, how your relationship was so convenient because both of you dropped everything whenever the other called, and jisung resented his roommate too. haechan didn’t know what it was like to be lonely and he always had to rub it in jisung’s face.

but at the end of the day, that was why jisung didn’t feel bad picturing himself holding you down while you thrashed along his mattress. cock bulky and tall against his stomach, he mused about bullying himself inside velvety, taut walls, gripping him so fiercely there was no way he would be able to pull out.

it wouldn’t be his fault anyways. whenever jisung saw you, you were never not dressed like the whore he saw you for. so painfully easy. a simple tug and your breasts would be face-to-face with him. one wrong move and your miniskirt would ride upwards. if you didn’t want it, you would at least make it harder. what would it take for jisung to slip your panties to the side and force his cock between your folds?

he thought explicitly about how it would happen, how every moment would unfold the second he got his big hands on you. he wondered if he would want to go quickly, sheathing himself impatiently because he’d already waited long enough and give you no time to adjust, or if he’d take it slow, prolong his ecstasy and your agony.

too many different variants of heat wafted over jisung, an insatiable, white-hot anger, accompanied by the longing that burned through him and quickened his pulse, and he started to stroke his cock again, another video playing in front of him.

he pictured you choking on your own sobs identically to the girl in the video, so laboriously that you struggled to breathe. if he went deep enough, rough enough, would you bleed?

paramountly, he wanted to know what he’d have to do to tear the most devastating screams from the very back of your throat. he would rip your clothes off first. force you onto your stomach and hold you down by your throat, maybe your hair. he would watch you squirm uncomfortably, but to no avail, because he was stronger than you.

he had that feeling that you were a little fighter, just because of your attitude, a feeling that you would reach back and attempt to attack him when you sensed him lining himself up at your entrance, but he knew an untamed scream would come from your throat when he stuffed his cock inside your unprepared pussy.

he wouldn’t want to muffle it, he’d prefer to let you scream and cry out for help, but he would if he had to. slam your head against the bed and whisper menacing little threats into your ear. in that case, he started to think about somewhere secluded that he could take you, just so that nobody would be privy to your encounter, for lack of a better word.

maybe one day, he would turn these thoughts vicious, degenerate into a reality, but until then, while you were at your own apartment probably choking on his absent roommate’s dick, his hips rutted desperately into his fists as he imagined your weak, gasping figure, begging him for mercy.

[uchu-no-bashira]

𝔅𝔢𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔢𝔱 𝔡𝔬𝔬𝔯 - Gyomei x Fem!BlackReader

Authors Note: I’m fixating. Send help.

TW: Minors Do Not Interact. Consensual sex between two business adults.

Maybe it was the way that his shirt squeezed his deltoids, or the way the thin fabric cradled the biceps on his arms. You stopped making excuses for why you’d go in his office to see him a long time ago, bringing him his nth coffee that you both knew he wasn’t going to drink. You picked up that… Maybe he just wanted you around, since he never complained despite the x amount of full cups on his desk, but that’s just y’all’s little secret.

For him, it was your pencil skirt, the way it hugged your curvy thighs almost majestically. It’s not like he couldn’t envision your robust outline - one he’d grown accustom to around the office since you were the “Vice President’s little helper.”

Or, Maybe it was the tone of your honeyed voice when you offered him things. “Here’s your coffee with no creamer, Himejima-san.”

God how he loved that sound. So much so, that today was the day he took a particular interest in why and how you sounded as divine as you did. One thing led to another, and he politely told you;

“Don’t ever stop speaking to me. You sound so beautiful.”

As if you could speak.

How could you? What with the bearable stretch tearing the formulation of words clean from your throat.

Heavy, stifled breaths dwindles the amount of time you have before hypoxia kicks in, or maybe you were just giddy from the pang of your g-spot being imposed on over and over as your nails grip the fabric of his dress shirt.

Your mind is spinning, apparent from the way your body leans back against the wooden shelves rocking behind you, your gasps and moans bouncing off the walls of the broom closet as the clatter of metal cans on the polished flooring warrants a shared gasp.

Gyomei slowed his pace for half a second, his finger pressing against your thick kissers while listening to the sound of determined heels clicking outside of the door. He sheathes himself deeper, pushing the air out of your lungs while pulling your knee up and away from the cleaning supplies.

“Has anyone seen Himejima? What about that new intern?! Where the hell is everyone?! I needed my iced latte and newly trained staff members yesterday!”

Shinobu shouts, veins rippling around the side of her forehead before she lets out a frustrated groan and continues past the solid wood door with the “Please use other closet” sign swaying slowly.

Once the footsteps fade, Gyomei removes his finger from your maw, chuckling softly at the way you sucked and hummed against it desperately. He tucks his forearm behind your other knee, pulling your legs further apart and angling his hips enough to make you whine in pleasure.

“Shhh.. We’ll get in trouble if you’re too loud.” He teases, squeezing your thighs tighter the closer you get to your limit.

Soon, the sound of panting fills the room as shelves beat in cadence with desperate moans, your left high heel dangles from the tip of your toes as composure slips free, you give in to your body’s carnal need for pleasure and allow him as deep as he can go.

The pit of your stomach flutters, sending a heat through each muscle, each tendon, each nerve. A high pitched squeal squeezes through your voice box, the back of your legs clench his forearms as your thighs vibrate against him.

A deep, guttural moan vibrates against your ear and the sensation of heat pooling in your stomach makes you shudder. Trails of white trickle between the two of you and drip onto the marble floor, leaving a mess for the janitorial crew to clean later…

[marveicinematics]

after the nightmares (wanda x reader, smut)

Summary : You know how to make Wanda forget about her nightmares when she wakes up in the middle of the night.

Pairing : Wanda Maximoff x female reader.

Words : 1,275.

TW : Smut. Dirty talk, oral sex, tribbing, squirting.

Note : Happy pride month everyone! My first Wanda smut ever, let me know if you’d like to read more about her.

You clearly remember meeting her, months ago. She was alone at the bar, drinking her third cocktail of the night. She was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Bright red hair, the most beautiful face and lips you’d damn yourself to kiss at least once. You made your way to her, offered her to pay the next drink.

Before you were even tipsy, both of you were in the bar’s bathroom, fingers deep inside the other, holding back screams of pleasure.

“Fuck, I can’t even moan your name, I don’t know it.“

“Wanda,“ she answered with a smirk on her face, before you reached your orgasm, clenching hard against her long expert fingers.

It had been months, but the two of you kept meeting then and there, ending (or beginning) most of your dates with the wildest sex you ever had in your life. In back alleys, on the kitchen counter, in your bed right before she fell asleep in your arms. Months of happiness where you learnt more about Wanda, her story and her bagages. You loved spending time with her nevertheless, accepting each of her flaws, comforting her after each of her nightmares.

Tonight was one of those nights, Wanda had fallen asleep in your arms naked and you were still reading when you felt her squirm and mumble in her sleep. You did what you always did to comfort her, but it didn’t seem to calm her.

“Pietro !“ She screamed when she woke up, hands shaking.

“Shhh, I’m here, it’s over.“

Your hands cupped her face, thumbs rubbing against her skin as you maintained eye contact with her.

“It was a nightmare, it wasn’t real,“ you said with a soft tone and you saw her nodding softly.

“It wasn’t real,“ whispered Wanda.

“It wasn’t real, no. I, on the contrary, am very real.“

And to make sure she believed you, you closed the small gap between your mouths and kissed her as gently as one could, letting your lips taking away her pain and fear. It worked its magic, and you felt Wanda ease in your kiss, deepening it as she slowly forgot about the nightmare that just woke her up.

You felt her tongue lick your lower lip, asking for permission that you gave her right away, opening your mouth for her. Your body leaned closer against hers, your hips pinning hers to the mattress under her. She sighed in the kiss as your knee moved up between her legs, grazing her naked thighs.

“Don’t stop,“ she whispered again.

You smirked in the kiss, moving your knee up higher to press against her still covered cunt.

“D’you like this?“

“More...“ is all you could hear her mumble through her breathing as it was already getting heavier.

You pressed harder, moving your knee up and down her pussy as you started to feel the fabric of her panties getting wet. No doubt she was enjoying it. You rubbed her clit, earning a high-pitched moan from the woman you craved to please.

“Wanda, baby, you’re making a mess of those pretty panties.“

Your smirk didn’t leave your face yet, still rubbing her through the soaked fabric of her underwear. You knew how sensitive Wanda was after waking up. If you kept going, you’d get her to cum like this. 

“It feels amazing!“

Her voice was already louder, and you thanked yourself for getting a soundproof apartment. She was not the type to be quiet in bed. 

“Are you going to come for me, baby?“

Her only answer was another loud moan, and you knew she’d be screaming your name in no time. You moved your knee faster and faster, feeling yourself get aroused by the situation as your own breathing started to be heavier.

Wanda’s moans became high-pitched incoherent screams and her legs started to tremble against the bed. She was getting there. So you stopped without a warning, looking her eyes widen at the loss of her own orgasm.

“What the hell, I was so close!“

“I know, baby.“

Smile on your face, you took your tank top off, revealing your round boobs and hard nipples. The panties came off next, and you straddled her.

“You didn’t think I was going to stay out of the fun, right?“

You moved your own hand down your body and between your legs, brushing two of your fingertips against your cunt to gather some of your arousal. Slowly, you moved your wet fingers to Wanda’s face, and she opened her mouth immediately. She started sucking on your fingers, tasting you as she moaned in pleasure and finally let go of your digits with a loud ‘pop‘.

Wanda laid on her back, grabbing your hips to pull you higher up. Holding onto the headboard, you straddled her face, her tongue finding your wet pussy immediately. One lick, two licks, three licks and the next thing you knew, she was devouring you. You were bucking your hips against her face as she alternated between licking and sucking on your clit and shoving her expert tongue deep inside you, where you needed it the most. One of your hand grabbed her red hair, tilting your head back as you moaned.

“This feels heavenly!“

It only encouraged Wanda to go harder, bringing you close to your peak quickly. You let yourself reach the edge, getting closer and closer to your release before moving your hips up and stopping right before your orgasm.

“Do you plan on getting any of us off tonight?“ asked Wanda with a smirk on her face.

The naughtiest side of her was the one you loved the most. Taking off her top, you immediately started to suck on her breast, tongue playing with her nipple as she moaned softly. She was definitely still aroused.

After taking the pair of panties that she ruined off of her, you spread her legs wide enough and straddled her again, making sure both of your needy cunts were rubbing against the other as you were bucking your hips.

“Oh, god, Wanda…“

Again, it felt like nothing else. Both of you were already close and you had no time to waste. You started to rub yourself on her wet pussy, grabbing her ankles to hold her legs still.

“Oh my god, yes!“ Wanda started screaming almost immediately as she tilted her head back into the pillow.

“That’s it baby, scream for me.“

You moved faster, boobs bouncing in rhythm with your thrust against Wanda’s pussy.

“Fuck me, I’m going to come so fast!“ Wanda screamed again.

You knew she wasn’t lying. Letting go of her legs, you leaned closer so your boobs rubbed against hers, your face so close to hers that you could feel her warm breath on your lips.

“That’s it, fuck. Fucking cum for me, Wanda. I’m so close.“

You grabbed the pillow under her head with both hands, clenching your fists as hard as you could as Wanda’s hands were on your ass, pushing you harder against her. Her screams became euphoric as she neared her orgasm again and you had to close your eyes as the wave of pleasure hit you hard.

“Fuck, ‘m coming…!“ You managed to moan before you started screaming, shaking on top of her. “Wanda! Wanda, baby! F-Fuck!“

She followed you quickly, squirts of her pleasure making an absolute mess of the bed as she screamed like no one else in the whole world existed but the two of you.

You laid down next to her, both of you heavy breathing and sweating, some spasms still making her legs shake against the bed. You moved your head towards her and giggled.

“You’re the best at this,“ you said softly.

“Oh, no. You are.“

[cummin-n-cryin]

Idia x female reader

Where there eating pomegranates and he wonders if she’s sweater then pomegranates?

Fluff to nsfw

Can the reader be a virgin

Sub reader

Soulmate au

~Thank you for your request!

The Sweetest Taste

MINORS / BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Idia Shroud x fem!reader

Tw: lil angst at the beginning, virgin reader no mentions of hymen stuff, Idia is implied to be a virgin, afab reader, NSFW, idk what else

Wordcount: 2,700

Side Note: Sry this took so long! I wasn't quite sure which soulmate au you were talking about as the only one I rly know of is the red string of fate version so I'll be going with that sry. I hope this was ok! (; ^⁠ω⁠^)

~Idia Shroud~

Idia had given up a long time ago on finding his soulmate.

A red string wrapped around his finger. It led off somewhere far into the horizon and on the other end, awaiting him, was supposed to be the love of his life, his soulmate. However, growing up on the Island of Woe, a cold and depressing place where millions of souls are held and where those who to might have once had a red string wrapped around their own finger are now held, it was hard to imagine himself with a lover.

At least until now.

After so many years, he had finally found you or, well, you found him. That red string he's stared at for so long with so much wonder, hope, frustration, and sorrow. Seeing it wrapped around your finger still surprised him whenever he saw it.

It's a little crazy that his soulmate was from a whole other world and ended up getting isekai'd to his. But deep down he was so happy to have you as his. It seems the Fates were kind to him for once...

I mean, who would've thought Idia, the loser, introverted, gamer, otaku, would get a girlfriend? Certainly not Idia! Especially someone so pretty and kind as you were. You were so understanding of him and his social anxiety. You actually listened to what he was saying!

You respected his space and didn't push his boundaries, unlike certain loud extroverts...

Simply put, he was very thankful for you. He was thankful for your kindness, patience, and understanding. He knows he can be difficult to deal with at times and he honestly doesn't think he's that great of a boyfriend with how much time he spends looking at a screen than looking at you.

But you always seem to let him know that it's okay and that your not bothered by it. You love him and his awkward self! It's just one of the many reasons you've fallen in love with him after all. He's you're cute, weirdo, gamer boyfriend and you love everything about him~

He couldn't help the blush that would bloom across his face whenever you said such kind things like that to him. His hair glowing a soft pink to match. Though, in the moment, he could only stutter an awkward thank you in response. Later however, when you weren't in his room with him, he couldn't help but to remember your words, becoming giddy as his heart grew warm thinking about it.

You were so nice to him. He really didn't think he deserved someone so amazing as you.

.

.

It was during one of his many gaming sessions that you came inside his room with a surprise for him.

He had put his controller down deciding to take a quick snack break only to turn around and let out a high-pitched scream. He was so distracted by his game that he didn't hear you come in.

After an awkward moment where he apologized for screaming and you lightly laughed at him, you finally presented your gift to him.

A pomegranate...

.

Idia was quiet for a few moments. Listening to you talk about how you found it and how you wanted to eat some of it with him.

He couldn't help but wonder, did you know about the story surrounding the pomegranate? You probably didn't, considering you were from another world...

You definitely didn't know, right?

I mean, why would you? This was just a simple gift! Yeah, that's all.. heh...

Of course, Idia wouldn't deny your request to eat the pomegranate together. After all, he was a bit hungry.

Not wanting to awkwardly sit in silence while eating, you both struck up a conversation. You asked him about the game he was playing which led him into a very lengthy explanation of the game, it's lore, and the characters. After he realized how long he was talking for he apologized. You simply laughed it off calling him cute as you told him about your day and the shenanigans Grim had put you through.

He only pretended to listen as you spoke. It wasn't because he was disinterested in what you were saying! It was just that he couldn't stop thinking about why you wanted to eat a pomegranate with him..

He couldn't help but think about the story of Persephone and Hades. How with each seed eaten was a month that Persephone had to spend with Hades. In a weird way, he thought this was kinda like that. Only..

You both had almost eaten the entire thing...

It made him think about how many months that would be. How many months you'd have to spend with him. Willingly of course! He'd never force you to do anything.

But, it made him realize that he really would like to spend the rest of his life with you. And as he watched you put another seed into your mouth, it only confirmed his thoughts.

He was so entranced by the way your lips moved as you spoke and ate more and more of the pomegranate. Before he realized what he was doing he was leaning closer to you.

Every time he saw you put another seed into your mouth it felt like a silent promise to stay with him and the thought that you would like to spend the rest of your life with him made his chest grow warm.

As he subtly moved closer to you, the thought of your lips overwhelmed his thoughts and he couldn't help but to think of what your lips tasted like. Would they taste like the pomegranate you both have been eating or perhaps even sweeter?

Well, he didn't wait for the answer. As once you seemed to notice just how close he was to you, he finally leaned in and kissed you.

His lips gently pressed against yours and he got his answer.

You tasted much sweeter.

.

A new kind of warmth bloomed within him as he pulled away from you. But it was quickly drowned out as he suddenly realized what he had done. He became frightened of your possible reaction. Though you only smiled before trying to pull him back to kiss him again.

The warmth returned as kiss after kiss was shared between you two. It was a bit awkward as you both tried to figure out what you two liked.

Soon Idia became bolder. His hands trailed down your arms. Using his left hand, he lightly grabbed the hem of your shirt playing with the fabric.

He pulled away from your lips. If the warmth in his skin and the heat traveling to his pelvis were anything to go by, he knew he wanted to go further. But, he wasn't going to do anything you weren't okay with.

Growing nervous, he tried to form the words in his mouth, "Do you.. Uh- Do you want to?" He murmured as he continued to play with the hem of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers as he tried to calm himself down.

Thankfully, it seems you understood what he was trying to ask. You were quiet for a few moments as you thought about it. You then responded, "I would like to but.. I've never done this before."

You're.. Oh...

.

"That's okay! Um- here you just lay down and I'll do the rest okay?"

You paused for a moment before nodding laying back onto his bed.

Shit... Maybe he should have thought about this more. He'll need to remember every romance manga and hentai he's read! There must be something in there that can help him! He just needs to calm down and think.

Right, he can do this! He can do this!

Taking in a breath to calm himself down, he went back to what he was doing before. Running his hands across your body he leaned down to kiss you again.

He almost moaned at the feeling of your lips against his. He didn't think he'd miss them so quickly. After a few moments, he pulled away from the kiss gripping the hem of your shirt again. This time though, he started to drag your shirt upward. You shuffled around to help get the shirt off and....

Yeah, those mangas aren't gonna help him here. Seeing you topless was something he would only dream about, as shameful as it was to admit. Now that he's actually doing this though, it's much more nerve-wracking than he thought it would be.

He just needs to relax, to keep breathing and not let his anxiety get to him. So he continued. Growing a bit more bold he ran his hands up your torso ending just at the bottom of your bra and running back down to your stomach.

He reached the hem of your pants. Grabbing it before deciding to pull that off of you. With new skin revealed, he touched you as he admired you. He never believed that someone so beautiful could ever love him.

Not wanting to leave you uncomfortable, he took off his own clothes. Pulling off his shirt and pants, he was left in just his boxers.

He looked back down at you and seeing the look of adoration in your eyes he became more confident in his actions. Reaching up, he fumbled with the bra clasp before finally getting it off.

Seeing your tits he went and grabbed them. The sound you made as he lightly squeezed them made his dick throb. Wanting to hear more, he leaned down and put one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it as his hand played with your other breast.

He felt like he was slowly losing control. Lust clouding his mind, he couldn't stop himself from lightly rocking into you as he fondled and squeezed your breasts. He was heating up more and more and your mewls and gasps only encouraged him further.

Eventually, he grew impatient. His cock was fighting for its life in his boxers and it was starting to hurt. His mouth made a popping noise as he pulled away from your breast. Reaching down towards his boxers he started to grow nervous again. His hands shook a bit as he grabbed his boxers and pulled them off, freeing his aching cock.

Reluctantly, he looked up to see your reaction. You stared at him with curiosity and his face grew red from nervousness. Taking in a deep breath he tried to forget you were looking at him.

He reached up to your underwear and with your help, pulled the fabric off of you. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of your pussy. He knew that he needed to prepare you properly first before he could stick his dick in you. Luckily with him being a sad little gamer boy, he just so happened to have what he needed.

Getting up he went to a drawer and quickly searched through it. When he saw your confused expression he reassured you, giving you an awkward smile as he continued rummaging through the drawer. After a moment, he found what he was looking for, a bottle of lube and a condom.

Quickly, he made his way back over to you. Sitting on the bed, he settled himself between your legs. He opened the bottle, pouring some of the slick liquid onto his hand before setting the bottle on the floor nearby. He took in another breath as he reached down and touched you.

You let out a soft moan as he touched you. Feeling a bit braver from the positive reaction he continued, stroking your folds and rubbing your clit. He eventually found your entrance, poking and prodding before he stuck a finger in, feeling around your wet walls. He soon added another finger, scissoring your insides. Feeling your warm wet walls squeeze around his fingers made him eager to know what you'd feel like around his aching cock.

After a while of scissoring you and applying lube when needed, he looked up to see your face. Your eyes opened and closed as you softly moaned. Seeing you so blissed out because of him made Idia's dick pulse. He needed to be inside you so badly.

He grabbed the condom, tore it open and put it on his dick. He picked up the lube again pouring some on his hand he then tossed it aside before covering his dick in the liquid. He positioned himself near your entrance. Hearing a gasp from you he quickly looked up at your face.

You wore a worried expression on your face. Idia growing concerned asked, "If you want me stop I will. W- we don't have to go farther if you don't want to..." The last thing he wanted was to make this a bad experience for you.

You took a breath before responding, "Please keep going.. Just be careful, okay?"

"Of course, anything for you." Idia leaned down softly kissing you before he lined up with your entrance again.

Slowly, trying to be as careful as he could, he sunk into you. Inch by inch his hard cock settled into you. Idia gasped and let out a low moan as he felt your warm walls squeeze around his cock. The feeling was overwhelming, much better then anything he could have imagined within his own mind.

All those times he shamefully fantasized about having his dick inside you, hearing your cries and moans as he fucked you, could never compare to this.

Still, being as careful as he could, he continued. Whenever you made a noise of pain he stopped, waiting for your cue to continue moving again. Eventually, with enough time and patience he had fit his entire dick inside you.

He shuddered, knowing that after so long of you two being together he now had his dick inside you, inside his soulmate. He waited till you had adjusted to his size. You moved around a bit and after a few moments you had nodded at him to try moving.

He slowly dragged himself back, his cock rubbed against your walls and you both moaned at the feeling. Slowly he continued, pushing in then pulling out again. Eventually, the pain subsided and in between your moans you cried out, asking him to move faster.

Thrusting his cock in and out of you, listening to your gasps and moans as he fucked you made him feel euphoric. He lost himself in the feeling of your slick walls tightly squeezing around his cock. He felt like he couldn't stop himself.

His pace growing faster and faster, he grabbed your legs lifting them up to his waist, feeling you wrap your legs across his back, he held your hip with one of his hands putting his other hand on the bed to steady himself. With your hips raised more it made it much easier for him to quickly thrust his cock in and out of you.

The feeling of your walls would soon become too much for him. As Idia neared his climax, he moved his hand from your hip to your clit, rubbing you quickly. You're walls squeezed tightly around him and with a cry you came around his cock. With only a few more thrusts he came as well.

.

Panting as he came down from his high, Idia pulled out of you and after throwing away the condom he flopped next to you on the bed. He was tired. His eyes closed and he could feel you moving around.

His hand suddenly felt warm. Opening his eyes, he saw you were holding his hand, interlocking your fingers with his, you smiled at him. He observed your interlocked hands seeing the red string entangled between them. He then smiled back as he leaned over and kissed you. Even now you still tasted sweet.

"Well.. how was it?" Idia whispered quietly to you, growing anxious.

"It was amazing Idia." You whispered back to him as you hugged him.

You both continued to hold each other as you two soon fell into the depths of sleep. Idia was glad that you seemed satisfied. He was happy to have a soulmate so beautiful and kind as you were.

You really were just as sweet as you tasted.

[loremaster]

CHAPTER 1 - Man Door Hand Nail Fur Door (Comic)

...aka the Zilara manifesto.

(tw: strangulation, suggestive themes) BOBA AU MASTERPOST: [link]

Yakou tells Yuma to go to the hotel and corral all the other detectives who have been sleeping soundly in the nice fancy rooms over there. Yuma, who got 3 hours of sleep on Yakou's creaky couch, says "Okay, sure thing, Dad." ((side note - wouldn't the train detectives have had rooms reserved at the hotel? Couldn't Yuma have had one of those?))

Instead of agreeing to meet up, they all send poor little Kokohead around the city doing side quests.

Pucci wants to know if Kanai Ward has any good symphonies; recordings of classical music are all well and good, but it's no substitute for the acoustics of a live concert hall. Closest thing Yuma can find is Aetheria Academy's chamber orchestra program. Musicians in Kanai Ward used to be part of a larger regional symphonic orchestra, but since Amaterasu locked off the city, they've had to resort to busking. Pucci seems disappointed, but resigns herself to checking out the high school girls' next concert anyway.

Aphex is cruisin' for a bruisin'. He spotted some suspicious movement in one of the districts on his radar (drug deals?), but every time he goes to check it out, he can't find out which people in the crowd are the suspicious ones. They must be afraid of Aphex's intimidating appearance, so Yuma goes in his stead to grill the people hanging around the square. Turns out they weren't dealing drugs, they were passing around anti-Amaterasu propaganda. They beg Yuma not to tell Aphex. Yuma goes back to the hotel to tell Aphex... who thinks anti-fascist action is cool, actually, so no need to do anything about those guys.

Melami wants to know about the local fashion scene, and is very curious about the dronebrellas she's seen around Kanai Ward. She sends Yuma to see what the big deal about them is, and once there, he gets roped into a long winding sales pitch for technology he can't afford. He relays as much of this as he can remember back to Melami, but once she hears they only come in one color, she decides she's not interested. What's the point if you can't customize it? Just get a regular umbrella. Or a rain coat. That's a much better way to show off your personality! Yuma tries not to scream about how much time he just wasted.

Zange shows Yuma a picture he took (with his mind) of a specific location in Kanai Ward, but can't quite remember where it was. Yuma has to go on a scavenger hunt to find the place that matches the picture and tell Zange how to get there. Zange assigns Yuma a numerical score based on how long it took him complete the quest (which is always too slow). This will be a repeatable quest/minigame with different locations every time.

As Yuma is about to leave the hotel, Zilch stops him. He offers a more formal introduction (since, you know, they didn't actually meet aboard the train) and volunteers (insists) to accompany the poor useless trainee as a senior detective, to show him how it's done.

Zilch has four animal companions with him at the moment: three caged mice and a dog named Bosch.

He doesn't seem to treat them very kindly, though. He isn't careful handling the mice's cage, and he orders Bosch around like one would speak to Alexa.

Anyway, Zilch and Yuma go look for the last remaining detective, Halara Nightmare. Canon ensues.

They run into The Boy and accept the quest to investigate the Nail Man murders. Halara needs some convincing.

At the church, Zilch makes a new friend, or so he thinks.

Zilch tactlessly asks the nun if her ears are natural or not, and starts bragging about how well his own surgery went. For the ears and tail, that is. The Nun doesn't like Zilch's attitude one bit. She watches him use his mice for spying and gets freaked out. The nun threatens to kill Zilch but he doesn't think she's serious.

Zilch says that he didn’t expect there to be a Metal Fox Church here, of all places. Yuma asks him to elaborate, and he says they’re a denomination that exists elsewhere in the world. The church near where he grew up was much larger and more spectacular than this one. The Metal Fox is a deity known for its fortitude and cunning, that offers protection from “hunters,” or persecution of any kind. Zilch doesn’t seem to believe in its teachings at all. #atheistpride

Meanwhile, the dog, Bosch, sniffs around and seems agitated by something. He can place the smells of all the church NPCs around the scene, but there's something else, too. Zilch barks the order - literally - for Bosch to track whichever scent doesn't belong, and the dog goes off on a solo mission.

Zilch has a plan to catch the Nail Man red-handed, but he won't tell what it is yet. He needs to prepare some stuff. So in the meantime, Yuma and Halara hold hands at several different crime scenes.

While Shinigami keeps blabbing about stripping detectives, Halara fucks off to who knows where and Yuma returns to the church to meet with Zilch. Zilch leads Yuma to the nearby woods and reveals his master plan to lure out the Nail Man by taking a doll with a slip of paper on it to the forest, and writing the name of someone for the Nail Man to kill...

"Yuma Kokohead," of course.

Yuma is terrified of being used as bait, but Zilch promises he'll intervene before the Nail Man can actually kill him, it'll be fine. So Yuma the pushover gets tied to a tree...

Halara unmasks the cloaked figure to reveal the priest of the Metal Fox Church, as they suspected. The priest begs for mercy - he was only trying to protect the people of Kanai Ward by purging it of corruption (and letting an innocent man take the fall for it)...!

Yuma thinks he might not have to rely on Shinigami's powers this time, but then...

Bosch leads them back to the church where Seth and his Peacekeepers are threatening Yakou.

And with that… it’s Mystery Labyrinth time!

Zilch’s voice is back to normal inside the Labyrinth. He seems oddly relaxed around Shinigami - because he insists this is not real and actually a dream. #atheist4lyfe

Yuma deduces that Zilch's name was written in the woods by the nun. She witnessed Zilch’s mistreatment of his animal companions and tactless assholery - but the thing that pushed it into murder territory was actually her recognizing the crest of the Alexander family on his fur coat. The full truth comes to light - the Alexanders have been known for generations as prolific trophy hunters. They “live alongside nature,” sure, but it’s a heavily controlled and subdued “nature.” This is antithetical to everything the Metal Fox Church stands for, so the nun, devout to her faith, believed Zilch to be an invasive threat to their way of life, and the peace of Kanai Ward.

And, since this revelation is taking place in the Mystery Labyrinth, of COURSE she gets a cool Mystery Phantom.

The gang also, like, solves the actual mystery.

Then once they find all the evidence they unmask the true culprit and his copycat, and the Priest's and Worshipper's souls are reaped.

Zilch is horrified. Somehow he didn't expect this was actually going to affect reality. Shinigami assures him that he won't remember any of the Mystery Labyrinth anyway, so...

Aaaaand eventually they do leave the Labyrinth. Halara is back to their usual steely exterior.

The masked priest in front of them drops to the floor dead. A scream from the church can be heard, presumably because the worshipper has just done the same. They go to check it out.

Then… Yomi shows up. He intimidates the group and doesn’t seem to deem any of the detectives worth his attention… until he notices Zilch.

Shinigami wonders if he recognized the Alexander family crest... but Yuma makes the connection and realizes Yomi might have had some sort of connection to the impostor on the train. That's pretty scary to think about. Was this the guy who tried to kill off all the Master Detectives coming into Kanai Ward? He seems dangerous...

Good thing Yomi has a devoted right hand to play around with. In front of everyone.

But anyway, regarding the Nail Man situation, Yomi decides to throw Seth under the bus, and punish him accordingly.

Bye Seth! Or should I say... Steve. :noes:

After his near-death experience, Zilch has a change of heart and decides he doesn't need a fur coat after all (seeing as it almost got him killed). Halara accepts it as payment for their services solving the case.... at least Zilch's half of it - Yuma still owes them a small fortune.

And with that the day is saved. Yuma plays a bit of baseball. Halara has a comfy new bed for their beloved strays. And Zilch... has a lot to think about.

-----

HELLO BOBA FANS!!! Thanks for your patience waiting for this update! I hope you can tell I've been working on this very hard (in between assignments for cartoon college)! The post didn't even fit all the images I made for this chapter - I'll be sure to post the other ones separately. At some point.

This chapter was an interesting challenge to write, trying to hammer down Zilch's character - how to make him distinct from his impersonator, but similar enough to lend credit to the impersonator. It took a while but I think I've finally landed on a solid backstory. I'll be posting more about him in the next installment of Boba AU - Zilch's Gumshoe Gabs. Then after that will be Chapter 2! Super excited to rub my gay little hands all over that one.

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, then please... I beg of you... draw me some Zilara ;_;

BOBA AU MASTERPOST: [link]

[petalsofyouth]

limerence; and it goes both ways | ran haitani x reader

tw: unestablished relationship, smoking, mentions of usage of weed, sexual activity (it's not really detailed, but it is, haha) /i think that's it, but i probably missed something as i usually do, so please do tell me if you think i forgot something/

wc: 28 128

author's note: ran was supposed to be extremely toxic in this, but he isn't. we'll meet the version of ran i initially intend in another story. oh, and they all are in universities, so it's uni au, no usual gangs activities.

i.

Aoki Ogura is perfect, or so Ran thinks.

She says her first name is spelled with kanji that mean 'a little love,' and her last name means 'tiny' and 'blue.' She giggles as she says it, staring with her beautiful eyes at Ran. She might like him, and he might like her too.

Or even more.

Ran thinks he is in love with the girl in front of him, and it doesn't really matter that he has only seen her twice in his life: once when Rindou was picking him up from rehearsals for dinner and Ran happened to tag along, and today, for the second time, at someone's party in Kamakura.

He doesn't dare to say it aloud yet, but he already calls it fate. Ran is quick to assume.

He chats up this pretty, perfect girl, leaning down to her so she can hear him over 'Cherry Girl' by Black Cherry, which is playing too loudly for Ran's taste. But today he won't complain and whine about it as he usually would've, because this works exactly in his favor, creating the much-desired proximity between his body and Aoki's. They are really really close.

Her body is nice too. She's wearing a white summer dress that hugs her shoulders and waist so tightly that Ran doesn't need much imagination to have her undressed before him. Besides, he knows that Aoki is a dance major. A nice body is a given. He has hooked up with girls from the dance department before. He has never been disappointed once.

Right now, though, he feels like the happiest person at this party in the house that is too small for so many people. His chest is burning, and a smile blooms by itself. Aoki is telling him about her white cat, and Ran, who has never before been very enthusiastic about animals, nods at her, agreeing that cats are the best pets to have.

By the end of their conversation, Ran forgets that he always wanted to have a dog and that his favorite color was never blue, but white and purple.

ii.

Rindou doesn't share his brother's enthusiasm about Aoki.

He doesn't think she's cute, beautiful, or even talented. He has spoken to her before numerous times, and the only thing he remembers is the deep irritation he felt as she spoke in that high-pitched voice of hers that every J-idol claims to have. If she weren't your friend - of a sort - he would never entertain her with his company.

But you are classmates, and you are Rindou's best friend, and he loves you too much to ruin your somewhat good relationship with Aoki.

So when he spots his brother's face with the softest expression he has ever had while he talks to Aoki, Rindou is beyond disgusted. Blame it on alcohol or real physical disturbance from the unfolding scene, but Rindou gets nauseous and, closing his mouth with his hand, retreats to the back of the house in the direction of the beach. All the toilets are occupied anyway.

It's not long after he is done, and the rusty taste fills his mouth, that you appear with a bottle of sparkling water and mints in the pocket of your leather pants. He can see the outline of the box there, and he shoots you a half-smile, knowing well that you stole those from the cupboard in the hall of Ryou's house.

"Are you good?" you ask, squatting down near him. You pass him a bottle of water and watch him as he drinks it to the end.

"Yeah. I am okay," he hums appreciatively and takes a candy from the box. They aren't minty. They are strawberry flavoured. He likes these. "Thank you. You are a real-life angel."

You don't reply. Just nod at him and peer in front of you at the vast darkness where the sea and the sky are one black hole; your eyes are the same.

The music from the house is distant, and it feels as if you and Rindou are somewhere far away from this place, only the two of you in your own little world where no one and nothing can touch you. However, this is not true, and Ran is the one to prove it. If there's someone more worthy of this role for shattering illusions than Ran, Rindou doesn't know them yet.

"I've told you not to mix weed and alcohol," Ran sighs, standing behind you both. He doesn't sit down or come closer, and yet his presence is suffocating.

You turn your head, disappointment written all over your face, and Rindou wonders why it is that you are disappointed. Is it because instead of words of consolation, Ran is quick to assume? Or maybe because you just don't want him here? Or perhaps it's for your own reason that you hide deep in your chest, unknown to him?

You and Ran aren't really friends, but you aren't on bad terms either, nor could your relationship be called neutral. It is whatever it is - the mess, the chaos, and the calm understanding.

"We weren't smoking, Ran." Your lower lip quivers, and your eyes are squinted. Finally, you are disgusted with him, but out of habit, you call him by his name. There's something Rindou knows you won't admit, but you like Ran's name a lot. Otherwise, why would you say it so often? "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be entertaining your bimbos?"

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your red-haired celebrity?" Ran shoots back, taking a step closer in your direction, and if he wants to be intimidating, it doesn't work on you.

"First of all, Haru's hair is pink. Secondly, he isn't even here. And lastly, are you colourblind, by any chance, Ran? That would explain this atrocious outfit…"

The sentence is never finished because Ran yanks you by the elbow and pinches your arm. Hard. You yelp and barely stand on your wobbly legs that hurt from squatting for too long. Ran steadies you, helping you not to fall down on your ass as he holds each of your arms in his hands. Your eyes meet. Yours furious and his calm but curious.

You open your mouth to say something, probably unpleasant, but Rindou cuts in. "Stop pinching her."

"Okay. I am sorry." Ran still holds you by your arms, his hands warming your cold skin where he touches you. When you scoff and attempt to break free, he doesn't let go. He tugs you closer. "I really am. See."

Fatigue from emptying his stomach only a few minutes earlier returns when Rindou stands up. His vision goes blurry for a second. The world spins around him, and the music and you and Ran are a beautiful smudged carousel. He grounds himself, breathing in and out. In and out. More than anything, he doesn't want to puke again.

But when the world clears, and he sees Ran rubbing soothing gentle circles on the place on your arm where he pinched you, he wishes he puked. It's even worse looking at him being tender with you than dumbstruck by Aoki. With you, it's gut-wrenching.

"You know, Ran, I prefer it more when you are rude to me than whatever this was," you exclaim, but if you were angry before, you aren't now. You break free from him and come to Rindou's side. You take a good look at his face and cupping it, brush long blonde hair away from his eyes, spreading them all the way to the back of his head. "Do you want to go eat something? Maybe ramen? Hm? No. Actually, you should eat ochazuke now, and then we'll get you that vitamin thing from 7-Eleven. Okay? So you won't have a hangover tomorrow."

Rindou is not that drunk. He only had two cans of beer and a shot of vodka. But he doesn't argue with you. After all, he is used to you babying him from time to time. He hated it at first, but hate is nothing more than love that you can't untangle just yet. He nods at you and steals a box of strawberry candies from your pocket, popping one into his mouth. They are indeed nice.

As you leave the party, your arms linked, Ran follows behind you both. He wasn't invited to your little late dinner or early breakfast, but he assumes he is coming because he is the one with the car.

Well, if anything, Ran is quick to assume. iii.

Inside the diner, it's warm, and the air is rich with the smell of delicious food.

You sit beside Rindou on red cushions and watch him eat ochazuke with unagi and nori. Ran is sitting across from you, his plate of shoyu ramen untouched. He's waiting for it to cool down a bit. He claims that hot food never sits well in his stomach. For one reason or another, you don't believe it's true; it's probably another white lie.

In your opinion, Ran is woven with lies—innocent and not. As long as those lies don't harm you, you're fine with them.

The diner you're in is the usual one you always stop by after Ryou's parties. It's small, cheap, and the food is always fresh and tasty. It's in Kanagawa, near Shirahataike Park. If Ran weren't with you and Rindou didn't throw up earlier, you would've asked Rindou to go there and lie down on the grass near the pond, maybe smoke one or two of your specially reserved "Seven Stars" until dawn found you there and it got too cold. He, of course, would have agreed. He always does. It's more of a habit now. A little custom that's only yours.

Out of the blue, Ran asks, "On what days does the dance department practice?"

With a spoon between your lips, you frown. You shoot a quick glance at Rindou and catch how quickly his eyes harden, his mouth becoming a thin line. Oh, so Rindou knows the reason for the question, and while you might not, you have your suspicions.

"So? Who's your next victim, Ran?" you ask and put the spoon down in the bowl with the thick brown broth. You and Ran ordered the same.

"Why victim?" His eyes widen in surprise, and he looks quite comical.

You tilt your head to the side and laugh. Rindou near you is smiling too, but for a different reason than you suppose. "Just tell me who you want to hook up with, and maybe I'll give you her number."

"Actually, you know what? I can just ask myself."

"You sure can," you reply, shrugging your shoulders and in the next minute, you forget all about Ran's question as you turn to Rindou and ask him if he finished that music assignment he was working on. You say that today you talked to Ryou, and he had almost finished his.

The conversation between you and Rindou flows as effortlessly as ever. You discuss your classes, assignments, and even gossip about your mutual friends and people you don't even know the names of. You laugh a lot, and a couple of times, you get too serious, needing a pause before picking up the conversation again. You enjoy these two hours spent at the diner more than you enjoyed the party itself.

When the sky is flushed with pink and blue, you decide to call it a night. Rindou excuses himself to the restroom, and you find yourself with Ran standing on the porch of the ramen shop. It's raining a little, but the air is fresh, smelling of grass and soil. It smells like new beginnings and the meaning of life. You catch yourself thinking that for the first time in a long while, you're truly happy.

Sometimes, life is worth it all.

"Do you like the color blue?"

"What?" You stop swaying on your tiptoes and tuck your hands into the pockets of your jacket. It's mid-April, but still a bit chilly. "Do I like the color blue?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

"Depends on the shade of blue. It can be the happiest or the saddest color in the world. I need to know which shade of blue you mean, Ran." You contemplate it for a moment and then shake your head, quickly adding, "No. I don't think I actually like any color at all. Maybe just white and black."

"Aren't those two colors too?"

Your lips curve into a smile, and you look down at your tabi boots, thrifted from a vintage shop in Nakano. The shop owner told you, it once was his wife’s boots and she got them in Belgium in 1994. It was her favourite pair of shoes, but she died recently and he can’t bring himself to keep them around. He said that he wanted these stupid tabi boots to continue living on and bring happiness to other people even if his own wife was beyond the point of any human emotion.

"No, they aren't, really," you whisper, more to yourself than to Ran. "It's the absence of color that I like. It's like none of them exist."

The rain continues to pour until the afternoon, and then it suddenly stops, as if it was never there.

iv.

Ran had never longed for a girl before.

The feeling is new, and it is unpleasant. He doesn't understand why he keeps thinking about her and why he wants to hear her voice again. The fact that he couldn't remember what they were talking about at the party doesn't matter. Ran never remembers conversations he had with girls. He only remembers Aoki's plump, pink lips and her sweet, pretty eyes.

He needs to see her now. Today.

But unfortunately for him, he doesn't study at your university, and tagging along with Rindou to pick you up after your classes might be suspicious. Besides, Aoki might not even be there.

He doesn't want to ask you about Aoki either. It's stupid, really. He has asked you about multiple girls from your class before, but right now, he feels that asking about precious Aoki might spoil everything. Ran wants everything to be perfect because he thinks he was in love.

Having you as a connection to Aoki is like having no connection at all.

So, he tries the only remedy he knows—sex. And when that only blows off steam for a couple of days, a week at best, he does something he has never done before: he studies.

That's how you found him one day as you stop by their apartment to pick Rindou up so you can have your lunch together. Ran guesses he looks ridiculous in his grey sweatpants and old, loose T-shirt, surrounded by piles of books and handouts. Otherwise, why would you smile at him?

"Didn't know you were such a fan of studying, Ran," you say, dragging his name out and he rolls his eyes at you. If you want to mock him, you need to try harder. "Why don't you join us for lunch? Have you eaten already?"

"Not interested," he replies, not tearing his eyes away from the handouts with case-study before him.

"Oh, really? Too bad. I thought you might want to see Aoki Ogura again."

As Ran lifts his eyes to take a look at your face, to see if you were being serious or messing with him, you aren't there anymore. He catches a glimpse of your back disappearing through Rindou's door and hears his brother cursing at you for scaring him.

You close the door as you get in.

v.

Of course, Ran tails for the lunch with you, and of course, it annoys Rindou.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy hanging out with his brother—he pretty much does, and yet, he prefers having his own circle of friends to himself. You and Haruchiyo were his sacred zone. Only his to enjoy and spend time together with.

With Ran and Aiko and Aiko’s new boyfriend Takeshi, lunch gets awkward. Not because Ran is upset or mad or anything of the sort, but because Aoki gets flustered when she sees Ran and despite bragging to you before that she is so in love with Takeshi - you have told that to Rindou over another lunch on another Sunday - she sits between you and Haruchiyo, leaving Rindou to sit next to her stupid boyfriend.

"How did you two get together?" Ran asks Aoki, his voice dripping with sweetness. He chews on a yellow plastic straw that smells of fresh orange juice. "The last time we saw each other, you were single, or am I wrong?"

Aoki giggles, and her doll-like face turns pink. "We met at the party a week after Ryou's. I thought you would have come. That's why I went."

"Me?" Ran raises his eyebrows and takes a big sip of juice from the glass, ignoring the forgotten straw on the marble table. "Why would I?"

"Probably because I was invited, but I didn't end up going. I heard that party was a huge flop. What happened?" Already tired of the meaningless and obviously flirtatious exchange, Rindou cuts in, shifting Aoki's attention from Ran to him.

The girl sighs and, before replying, cuts a small piece of her vanilla cheesecake and puts it in her mouth, chewing. Pretentious little bitch. "You probably don't know them, but Shota from the second-year oil painting class got into a fight with Rintaro from the first-year dance class. They say Shota's girl cheated on him. Wasn't much of a fight, though."

"Bullshit. I know Rintaro pretty well, and he never laid a finger on that girl."

"Oh, really? I heard they made a tape with her."

"Like a sex tape?"

"Yes. I haven't seen it, but they say it was..."

"Cut the bullshit, Ogura." Haruchiyo is too loud as he defends his friend for the second time. A couple seated nearby turns their heads toward your table, intrigued by the sudden commotion. "It wasn't him in the video."

"You talk like you're familiar with his dick," the smirk on Takeshi’s full lips is not meant to be perceived as a mocking one, Rindou really wants to think it’s not, but before he or either anyone else reacts, you laugh and your laugh is cruel and cold.

"If Haru says it wasn't Rintaro, then it wasn't Rintaro. Why the dick comment?"

"Just joking. Right, baby?" Takeshi shoots a toothy smile at Aoki, who sheepishly nods. Rindou wishes you hadn't invited her to lunch. It should've been just you, him, and Haruchiyo. "But I still find it strange that he's so sure it wasn't him in the video. It was just a guy's dick sliding in and out."

"I've never seen the video."

"So you believe whatever he says?" “Oh, God. It’s annoying.” You whine. You lick your lips and stare straight at Takeshi who is right in front of you. Your eyes are black and endless, bottomless, reminiscent of that party where Rindou threw up, where Ran saw Aoki for the second time, and where this mess began. “So, say, your friend comes to you and says he didn’t do it, but everyone else says he did it. Who do you believe? Your friend or them?

Takeshi doesn't hesitate in his response. "A lot of people can't be wrong, right?"

A small little cloud of air escapes your mouth, and your body that has been strained like a tightrope, is now limp in the chair. You look tired. Rindou wants to ask if you're okay, but he refrains. Besides, you start speaking again, this time not looking at Takeshi but at the blue summer sky above you. "Nah. I think they can be wrong. If Rindou or Haru tell me they didn't do it, that's all I need to know. No one can convince me they did it if they say they didn't. So if Haru says it wasn't Rintaro, then it wasn't fucking Rintaro in the video."

For the rest of the lunch, you don't speak much, and Rindou is concerned. He doesn't like it when you get quiet, as it usually means you're sad. More than anything in this world, Rindou hates it when you crawl inside the small room in your heart and lock the door from the inside. It’s the one place he can never reach.

He will never be there for you. Sure, you love each other, but there are places in you that he won’t ever have an access to. He is not the only one who notices the change in your mood. There’s Haruchiyo who brings you into conversation every chance he gets and smiles at you so brightly you totally find it annoying and then there’s Ran, who hasn't taken his eyes off you, since your little quarrel with Takeshi. It's a Ran, Rindou has never seen before - calm, defenceless, and so very curious. He too isn’t participating in the conversation as much as he was before. Only occasionally when he is directly addressed to would he say something, but other than that he remains silent, vigilant over you. It's as if he's afraid that if he looks away, even for a second, you might slip away from him. The sun is close enough to jump behind the horizon to wake up another part of the world when you stand up from the table. The chair screeches against the pavement as you drag it. The sound is jarring, but the entire street is bathed in gentle golden glow, and to Rindou, you look the most beautiful in this moment, even with sadness resting inside you.

"I think I'll head out. I wanted to practice for the showcase," you say, picking up your bag from the floor. Before Rindou or Haruchiyo can say anything, you wave at them. "No need to walk with me. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Neither of them protests. Both know it won't lead to anything. They give you space when you need it. Around midnight both of them will call you anyway to check if you are still at the campus studio, and if you are, they'll come to pick you up and take you home.  They'll both call you around midnight to check if you're still at the campus studio, and if you are, they'll come to pick you up and take you home.

So you bid everyone farewell, leave money on the table, and head on your way.

As Rindou watches you walk down the street, he wishes he could fall in love with you and you with him. Then, everything would be simple, and you wouldn't be sad, and tears wouldn't mar your pretty face.

But this dream will remain just that—a dream, a mere thought in his mind that will never fully bloom.

His little sacred wish.

vi.

No one is at the university, and it's not surprising. It's Sunday, and it's almost summer. Everyone has better things to do.

Even you. You could have stayed with your friends and then invited yourself over to Haru's place and watched a movie with him or maybe read a book in solemn silence, eating homemade sandwiches without cheese. There is never any cheese at his house since he is intolerant, but it doesn't bother you. Not even a little.

Or, you could have gone with Rindou to the cinema and stayed over at his apartment. He would let you take his bed and then complain about a backache the next morning. He'd promise to make Ran buy a more comfortable couch, but the next time you'll visit, it will still be that white sofa they bought at a discount from some local shop in Roppongi. You'll point it out - you always do - and Rindou will say that it's actually quite okay and he just wanted to get your attention. You'll pinch him then.

And, of course, the three of you could've crashed at your place or gone together to the studio where you would've taught them some choreography. Haruchiyo would give up first; he is really stiff when it comes to dancing. But Rindou would surprisingly be good, and you would praise him, making him really happy about it.

But you made your choice, and now you are all alone in the studio, and the sun has already set. You dwell a little bit on what made you so upset earlier, but these thoughts - ugly worms - crack open old, forgotten scars, and they bleed. You don't know how to stop them, so you blast music at full volume and dance.

Dance is your sanity, your method of salvation, and your coping strategy. You dance and dance, and you don't stop until it hurts to breathe, and only then do you collapse onto the floor. The hundreds of you in the ceiling-to-floor mirrors do the same. They smile at you and they were smiling as you were dancing, and you suppose you did too, but unfortunately you can’t remember it, and therefore, it never happened.

The door cracks open while you're lying on the floor. You don't turn around to see who it is. Somehow, you know it's him.

It's Ran.

"Is purin daifuku your favorite, or did I mess up, and you won't let me stay?"

Food as a bargain is a bit outdated. For Ran it’s even quite a bit lame. You don't buy it, not for a single second. Because Ran himself is a white lie, a spider web of confusion [in which he pulls you in].

The heavy iron door doesn't make a sound as he shuts it behind him, and you gently close your eyes. Your eyelids fall as they would if you had fallen asleep in your tiny rented apartment in Nippori. It's an act of surrender, almost as if you're giving him the reins, but you doubt he understands it, and so it's alright.

The bags in his hands rustle, and you catch a slight smell of tuna. What has he brought? And why? The second question is the most important, so that's what you ask.

"What do you want? Aoki won't come today or ever. She doesn't practice much."

"Who said I came for her?" Ran counters, and you hear him settling down next to you. You hear the bag being ripped open and try to predict his moves. It's a silly game, but you let yourself indulge in it. You imagine him taking out the food and sitting in a lotus pose to your left. Does he glance at you? Only briefly. There's nothing new or exciting for him to see.

You'll never know if you're right in your guessing game, and you're not very interested. There's no prize to it, anyway.

"You didn't?"

"No. I came to see you."

You sigh, and his indirect lie makes you take a deep breath before opening your eyes and rolling your head to the side, so you can have a good look at him. "Don't lie to me, Ran. There's no point. Just tell me what you want."

He stops whatever he was doing, and his face, so uncharacteristically gentle in this moment, shows surprise. "What would I want from you? There's literally nothing I need from you. I just came here to see you. That's all."

His words are both hurtful and pleasant. Ran Haitani is a duality of a man. He is both white and black. The absence and richness in one body.

You sigh again, this time more disappointed, and leaning your body on your palms, you sit in the same pose as Ran. He still looks at you, his gaze unwavering and searching. A question seems to be on the tip of his tongue, but his lips pressed into a thin line keep it at bay. Only when you look down, your mouth falling open, your eyes widening in awe, does he continue the task of taking the food out of the bag.

"You clearly want something. It's my favorite food. Everything here is what I like."

"So you do like purin daifuku?"

"I do." You nod, reaching out for the bag of caramel corn chips. The flavour is almond caramel, your favourite. "Did Rindou tell you to come here?"

"No. He doesn't even know I came to see you. He's staying over at Akashi's today." He takes out a pair of wooden chopsticks and shoves them your way. A plate of the finest sashimi sits between the two of you. "Stop acting like that. You make me regret coming here. Doesn't my brother spoil you?"

"It's Rindou. Of course, he does." You fall silent as you break the glued-together chopsticks into two pieces. Ran does the same. "It's just different when you do it. Until last year, I thought you didn't even know my name."

"You're being stupid, you know? Of course, I always knew your name." He shakes his head and laughs, and the insult he directed at you a moment ago doesn't feel like an insult at all. Just a little teasing, nothing more. And that’s why you don’t bite back.

Silence envelops you as you eat. No one comes to the studio, and you hear nothing other than the sound of you and Ran chewing. He doesn't speak much, only praising the food he brought and mentioning that he got the sashimi from his favourite restaurant in Roppongi. He promises to tell Rindou to take you there, and he promises to come along. You tell him that you hope he's good with promises because the sashimi is really good, and you wouldn't mind having it again.

But when, after some time, you ask him again why he's here, he merely hums and ignores the question.

"Aoki asked me about you a few weeks ago. We don't share many classes, and we aren't friends, but she knows Rindou is my best friend. So she asked me about you when she saw me." It's another silly guessing game. This time, you try to pinpoint the reason for him being there with you, and if it's not about Aoki, then you're lost. Gladly, there won't be any retributions; just as there won't be any prizes. "She told me she spoke to you at Ryou's party and that she thought you might have liked her, so she asked me to link you two because she liked you too. I told her she should come for lunch with us. She never mentioned she had a boyfriend, though. And then..."

"I liked what you said to him back at the cafe."

"Didn't you hear what I just said, Ran?"

"I did. Did you hear what I said?" On his lips is a playful smile, but his eyes are relaxed and drowsy, and he is looking at you as if seeing you for the very first time. It might be it, but you won’t ask why he saw you only now and he won’t ever say it.

"Yeah, I did. We need to clean everything up here and get going. It's probably around ten now."

He agrees, and together you collect the trash and leftover food. The unfinished snacks and greasy chopsticks go into the paper bag with the restaurant's name on it. For some reason, you fixate on it, trying to commit the name to memory, repeating it over and over in your head.

Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi.

Retreating into your thoughts won't help you, just as it never had before, and certainly not now, not with Ran, who can access every sacred part of you.

You can't hide from him. He'll find you.

"Can I come to your place? I don't want to go home to an empty apartment just yet. It's completely fine if you say no. I'll understand."

"Don't be silly, Ran. Why not? I'd be bored at home alone too."

You're always before him.

vii.

It's his first time in your apartment, yet it feels like he's been here before.

Even though he knows very well that he hasn't.

There's no recollection of your old worn-out black leather couch, mahogany table, or the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that stands half-empty, most of the books lying on the floor near it instead of being placed on the shelves. He can't remember the two bar stools near the kitchen island, and he definitely shouldn't recognise your bedroom, the only separate room in your apartment.

And yet, he does.

The sound of water splashing across the tiles doesn't drown out your singing, and as Ran traces his fingers across every single object in your house, he listens to your voice, which somehow feels familiar to him too. Maybe it's what they call deja-vu, or perhaps it's a sense of belonging. It's peculiar and it's strange, and too difficult for him to comprehend, so he locks it in the back of his mind.

While waiting for you to come out from the shower, he occupies himself with a book that was lying on the kitchen island. It has a bookmark inside - a polaroid picture of his brother's smiling face. Rindou is being hugged from behind by you, your body looming over him. Your head is tilted down, so he can't make out your expression, but he has a hunch you were both smiling. You always smile around Rindou.

Ran has always wondered why the two of you aren't dating. He asks you just that as you're making cherry tea for both of you in the kitchen.

Before answering, you roll your eyes at him. "We don't see each other in that way. I mean… No. I can imagine dating him, but I don't see it leading us anywhere. I love Rindou too much to risk losing him, and I don't really love him in that romantic way. You know what I mean."

Love is a foreign concept to Ran, and even now that he thinks he might be in love with Aoki, he doesn't believe he understands what you mean. To him, love is love. It either exists in you or it doesn’t. You either feel it for someone or you don't. With all these ways and methods, you're just overcomplicating something that shouldn't be difficult in the first place. "What about Haru then?"

"Haru?" You place a white mug with tea in front of him. It smells really good - sweet and pleasant, somehow just like you. "We kissed once, but we were really drunk, and it was a bet. It didn't feel like anything. I doubt Haru even remembers it."

"Have you kissed Rindou then too?"

"No." As if deeply offended, you frown at Ran, then hop onto a bar stool and look to your right at the dark window, its reflection showing the compact room you're in. He might be imagining things, but he swears you're looking at him through the reflection. "I would never. Anyway, don't you want to know what else Aoki said to me about you?"

Ran licks his lips, not responding immediately. He watches you, observing your gaze fixed on the room's reflection, and takes a sip of the tea. The tea is hot and a big gulp he takes burns his throat. "This tea is delicious. Where did you get it from?" When you turn your head, and he meets your eyes - empty, sad, and meaningful - it startles him. He adds, "No, I don't want to talk about her at all."

"I'm sorry. I thought you might want to know what else she said to me." You tilt your head, offering him a smile. In this moment, you remind him of something he once lost. It's a huge relief knowing he won't ever need to search for it again. "You can stay the night if you want. You look really sleepy, Ran. It probably won't be safe for you to drive."

"Can I take a shower then?"

"Yes, and I probably have some of Rindou's sweats lying around. You can sleep in them if you'd like."

Ran chuckles, standing up. The tea is nearly finished, and his throat, still tingling from the burn, makes him aware of its warmth. "Do you have a lot of Rindou's clothes here?"

"A couple of sweatpants, t-shirts, and his contact lenses."

He nods, more to himself than to you, making a mental note  to ask his brother why he doesn't date you.

You seem like a really nice girl.

The sky is black when Ran wakes up in your bed, his arms and legs tangled in your sheets. Your scent, sweet and fresh, envelops him, and he takes a deep breath, letting the air stay in his lungs for as long as he can. He prefers his own bed with its silky appearance and soft mattress, but yours isn’t half as bad. He doesn’t regret staying.

You aren't beside him as you promised you'd be in a few hours after reading your book. You said you didn't mind sharing the same bed. You said you and Rindou always shared the bed when necessary.

You said, you said, you said.

To him, it doesn't matter much where you'd sleep – in your bed or on that monstrosity of a sofa. What matters, and stings, is that you said you would come, and you still aren't here. His eyes barely open as he shifts and turns to the right, spotting a small patch of light coming from the living room [which isn't just a living room but also a kitchen and a hallway].

Peeling the creamy comforter off himself, Ran yawns and gets up. His body, still warm from sleep, stiffens immediately when met with the cool air. The window in the room is open, and he swears under his breath, not recalling whether it was him who didn't close it or you who opened it after he fell asleep.

His feet on the wooden floor, he takes one step and then another, and soon you are before him. You stir a bit, as if annoyed by his presence, your fingers clutching the book tighter as if afraid it might be snatched away from you. Your sudden hostility doesn't deter him, and he rubs his eyes as he mumbles, his voice deep and groggy, "What time is it?"

The night is deep and dark when he notices your glossy eyes and wet cheeks. The reflection on the window, one he got used to, isn't there anymore. Only an eternal void, an absence of everything. You once told him you like black and white because they aren't really colours, because it was like they don’t even exist. He didn't retort back then, but now he knows better than that.

Black and white are the brightest, and you exist in them.

"What's wrong?" Ran suppresses another yawn. Sleep still lingers on the tip of his tongue, in the corners of his mind.

As expected, you don't say anything. You're like a statue of melted ugly wax, yet to Ran, you're incredibly beautiful.

He needs to know what upset you. [So it won’t ever again].

"Is the book sad?" he asks, sitting on the floor next to your bare legs.

"No, it's not," you whisper, closing your eyes. More tears escape, and Ran catches them with his outstretched palm. Your quivering lips and salty cheeks make you look too innocent between his hands. "I think I made it sad."

"You made it sad? How?"

"Because it's a nice book about people living their lives and being happy. But all I could think about was how mundane and ordinary it was, and I couldn't understand why they were so happy. Then I thought that I, too, lead the same life. It's a never-ending cycle of the same things." A sob tears away from your chest and comes alive. Ran's heart breaks a little. He doesn't know why. He doesn't have time to ponder why. "Ran. Am I thinking too much into it?"

"I don't think so. No." He shakes his head and, with the last wipe of his fingers across your cheeks, stands up. "Not really. But I don't think your life is all that ordinary."

"You don't think so?" You sound expectant and hopeful. His heart cracks a bit more.

"I don't think so." Gently, he takes the book from you and slips his hand into yours. Your hand is cold. "You're studying to be a professional dancer, Rin is your best friend, and that 'red guy' is almost a celebrity. And now you're going to sleep in the same bed with your best friend's brother. Now, tell me, how is this an ordinary life?"

This makes you laugh. The ice is melting, and the darkness recedes.

Soon, it will be dawn.

He helps you stand up, holding you by your hands, and together you return to the bedroom. He lets you take the side of the bed closest to the wall. You hesitate for a moment, but then you slip under the creamy blanket, your head and body disappearing beneath it. Now it's his turn to laugh. You remind him of Rindou. He used to do the same thing when he was little, back when they were poor and lived in their old apartment, sharing a bed because that and the broken table was all they had.

The memory itself isn't bad, but it's sad, and the nostalgia it carries isn't to Ran's taste. Your sheets still hold his warmth, providing a welcoming feeling. He tugs at the comforter and lifts it off you. "Don't hide. Wanna see you."

"Do you often sleep with girls?" Your cheeks are tear stained and they shine under the forgotten light of the lamp still on in the living room.

Ran turns, lying on his side to face you. Your hot breath grazes his mouth, carrying scents of cherry tea and summer and something salty. "Are you asking about sleeping as in sex, or sleeping as in just sharing a bed?"

"Sleeping as in just sharing a bed. Like what we're doing now."

He doesn't notice you reaching out to undo his braids and when he finally does, he stops breathing, taken aback by the unexpected yet pleasant sensation. He lets you continue, because, contrary to what he might expect, it feels good – almost caring – like someone finally cared enough to untie his long hair so his head wouldn't hurt in the morning.

"You'll be the first," he breathes out, his eyes half-closed as he watches your fingers dance through his hair. If not for the complete silence that reigns in your apartment, you probably wouldn't hear his words at all.

But he's mistaken, and you prove him wrong. "In moments like this, doesn't it feel like we're the only people in the world? Like it's just us and this apartment, and nothing more?"

"It does." He easily agrees.

You hum in response and he can sense that you are far far away from him, already hopping on to your next thought, pondering over something that he doesn’t understand or maybe doesn’t want to. He wants to bring you back to him, so he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose grazing your sensitive skin, and your goosebumps become his. He smiles, leaving traces of his happiness – ordinary or not – on you, and you return to the real world, freed from the constraints of your mind.

"Good night, Ran. I'll make us breakfast in the morning."

"And I'll take you out for coffee after breakfast."

"Thank you."

He wants to ask what for, but the sky will soon turn blue and he doesn’t want that. He wants this night to carry on forever.

With his arms around your waist, he falls asleep.

viii.

"Hey, Rin, I've got a question, but promise me you won't get mad."

The black sports bag sitting on the unmade bed contains sneakers, two t-shirts, sweats, and a large white towel. In fifteen minutes, he should be out of the house to catch the bus to the gym and meet up with Kakucho on time. Missing the bus would mean being half an hour late. Kakucho, of course, will wait for him, but then later today he promised you he’ll take you out for ice-cream.

Unlike Kakucho, however, you wouldn't wait, and to pick you up from the dance studio on campus without delay, he couldn't afford to miss the bus that would take him to the gym.

Ten more minutes. He needs to put on his shoes.

"So?"

In the doorway to his room, leaning against the doorframe, stands Ran. He's not wearing a t-shirt, and his hair is disheveled, with a sleepy look on his annoyingly handsome face. He probably just woke up.

"What do you want?" Rindou doesn't mean to be rude, but he's in a rush, and Ran has a tendency to take his sweet time with everything.

"I told you. I have a question for you."

"Yeah? I'm listening."

Rindou zips up the bag and strides over to his brother, heading straight for the door. He grabs a pair of blue Adidas and sits on the floor to put them on. Ran follows closely behind him.

"It's about your best friend."

"What about her?" The bus, the gym, and Kakucho are forgotten. Rindou tenses up. Everything that comes out of Ran's mouth is tainted. He stares at the laces on his sneakers, hands momentarily frozen. "What do you want to know?" “Do you like her?” “Why?” Finally, Rindou raises his head up. Ran towers over him. Hands locked on his chest. Not an ounce of usual laziness in his curious waiting eyes.

"Just curious. You seem close, and she's a really nice girl. Why haven't you two started dating?"

Five more minutes. If he’d be late, you’ll mask your sadness by your anger, and the world will turn bitter.

The best option right now would be to lie to Ran. To say, I'm sorry, I'll be late. We'll talk about it later. To come up with some nonsensical excuse and make him believe it. To protect you.

Rindou does nothing of that. He sees his brother's expectant face and takes a deep breath, knowing that he'll tell the truth. He holds out his hand, and Ran reaches out to him, allowing Rindou to steady himself, pulling him to his feet.

"I wish I liked her, but I love her. And love is never simple, is it? We're better off as friends. I care about her too much to risk spoiling our friendship."

"Oh, I see." An appreciative, contented hum escapes Ran's thin lips. "Maybe you're just… Anyway, forget I asked anything. Are you going to the gym? Tell Kaku I said hello."

Maybe you just... what? But Rindou doesn't ask. He nods, waves at his brother, and with his gym bag in hand, rushes out of the house. Down the stairs and onto the street.

He watches the bus pass by a few meters away from the bus stop.

ix.

The cigarette between your fingers carries the scent of tobacco and vanilla.

You hate smoking and yet you bring the cigarette to your lips and inhale the bitter sweetness into your lungs. It awakens your cloudy mind and burns your body from the inside. You are a room full of pale smoke and hate it all you want, there’s nothing you can really do about this nasty habit of yours.

You hate dancing too and yet you dance every single day. That’s the irony of it all, you think. Being doomed to doing what you hate for the rest of your life. Making it your legacy and descending into the abyss of eternity with it.

You despise dancing at parties, yet you find yourself dancing every single day anyway. The irony isn't lost on you. Being trapped in doing something you detest for the rest of your life. Making it your legacy and descending into the abyss of eternity with it.

The music has turned down, but your head still throbs with every thought. It's painful, but this particular hurt feels borderline nice and relaxing. Almost like returning home after a long day of dance practice – utterly exhausted, yet content. You hum along to the rhythm, shifting in the corner of a bright red velvet sofa. You can't recall whose house you're in right now; it was one of Haruchiyo's friends, but he has too many for you to remember them all.

"Care to explain why the eldest Haitani can't take his eyes off you today?" Talk of the devil, and he is sure to appear. Even though Haruchiyo is more like an angel. With his sweet pink hair and easy smile, he settles on the back of the sofa, leaning against you. His voice sounds as soothing as a cat's purr. "Girls are furious with you. Overheard a few of them calling you names."

You don’t need to turn around and see his bloodshot eyes to know that he is high. Rindou, who's not in sight, is probably stoned as well. They often smoke together, and if you hadn't been late today, you might have joined them. But you're not, and it leaves you feeling incredibly sad. You hate being sober when they are not.

"Don't be silly, Haru." You extinguish the cigarette in a handcrafted clay ashtray, the color an unappealing cheap purple. Oddly, you want to take it home.

"I'm not being silly!" He whines, making an irrational turn before finally settling on the sofa next to you. Under his weight it sinks down. Suddenly, the apartment feels aged. "He's been staring at you since you arrived, and I actually spotted you two on campus the other day. What's happening between you?"

"Nothing. What could be happening between me and Ran?"

In the adjacent room – the kitchen – a bottle crashes to the ground and shatters, followed by a cacophony of loud noises. A few girls scream, their high-pitched voices drowning out the electronic music. Haruchiyo pays no attention to this minor disturbance. He slips his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers, and rests his head on your shoulder. Despite his inebriation from weed and alcohol, he smells pleasant.

"Dunno. I just wanted to warn ya to be careful, and Rin's been suspicious too.  Says Ran’s been weird about you lately."

"Oh."

People come and go, and you follow them with weary eyes, attempting to deduce how much they've had to drink or their field of study based on their attire. A silly little game to distract yourself.

You want to go home, but you can't bring yourself to leave.

"He's just hung out at my place a few times. Maybe more. And we've been hanging out, spending some time alone together. Just the two of us." You finally admit, and when Haruchiyo doesn't stop playing with your fingers, nor does he falter, you know he won't judge you.

He is your safe haven.

"Did you fuck?"

"Oh my god, Haru! No." You exclaim, and he erupts in laughter. His joyful chuckles spread happiness throughout your being.

"Rin's older brother is quite the catch. I wouldn't blame you if you did fuck him. If I were you, I definitely would've." Haruchiyo yelps when you pinch him, but then he grabs the hand you attacked him with and edges closer to you. His gray eyes soften as they meet yours. "I won't tell Rin. Don't worry."

Moments like this make you forget all the hatred, and you come to appreciate cigarettes, smoking, dancing, plum cakes, ironies, hot days, and the bitter aftermath. Most of all, you love Haru and his gentle nature. You kiss him on the nose, a small peck, an offering of lost affection. His face lights up with smiles, his cheeks flushed with either alcohol, humidity, or simply your presence.

"You're the best, Haru," you whisper to him, and he nods in response. He never accepts compliments easily. Then you add, "Let's go find Rindou. I miss him."

In the end, you don't get up from the sofa, and it's Rindou who eventually discovers you both in each other's arms.

x.

The air in the small ramen shop near Waseda University is heavy with the scent of pork broth, and Ran wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"Don't make such a face. This place has the best ramen in Shinjuku."  The machine with different water stained stickers makes a loud noise and the automat lady says something incomprehensible. Shion turns around and with a happy face shoves tickets into Ran’s chest. "I’ve gotta go take a leak or I’m pissing myself right here.”

Before Shion disappears behind a grey curtain that Ran thinks was originally white, he turns back briefly. "Kakucho should be here in about five minutes. Let him know I've already paid."

Generosity isn't exactly Shion's strong suit, but today he'd received a perfect score on one of his projects and wanted to celebrate with his favourite ramen and favourite people – or so he claimed. Ran doubted this particular ramen shop was truly Shion's favourite, but since he had said it was the best in Shinjuku and Ran was too tired to drive somewhere else, they'd settled on staying nearby. As for the sentiment, it probably wasn't genuine either.

The interior isn't crowded. A few waitresses – pretty young girls around Ran's age – and an elderly man engrossed in his newspaper occupy the space. There's a half-empty glass on his table with cloudy yellow liquid; obviously sake. Ran ponders whether he's ever drunk this early in the day, but he can't recall such a memory. He's chosen to keep a clear mind since he and Rindou have been on their own.

You never know what might happen next. And that's something Ran dislikes about life. He prefers to be in control, but with how things flow you can never be. Nothing depends solely on you.

So when the door opens, and you enter the ramen shop with Kakucho and a short girl who strongly resembles your best friend – yours and Rindou's red-haired companion – Ran's throat tightens. Conflicting emotions surge within him. On one hand, he's genuinely thrilled to see you here. When you both woke up in your apartment this morning – where he had stayed the night, once again – he hadn't had the time to take you out for coffee, and this deviation from your usual post-sleepover routine had left an aching void in his chest. [Rindou would probably say he's being overly dramatic, but fortunately, Rindou will never be privy to this particular struggle.] On the other hand, he wishes you weren't here, in this damned cramped space, where everything smells a little bit too much.

He can already envision loving stares Shion will cast upon you, and he hates it so much he wishes you'd disappear. And he wants you to stay. He wants you to consciously choose a seat next to him and he wants you to talk only to him and don’t spare a glance for anyone else.

He wants you.

The revelation dawns on him suddenly, and his eyes widen. He's surprised, and there's sadness and anger swirling within him. His heart is tender, though, as you lift your head and grace him with a small smile. He nearly forgets where he is.

"You didn't tell me Ran was here. You said we were coming to see your friends." If not for the playful undertone in your voice, someone might think you were chastising Kakucho.

"You two know each other?"

You scoff, offering Ran an amused glance. "Of course we do."

"How would she know you but not me? I should be the one surprised that you two know each other."

An unexpected edge tinges Kakucho, and he frowns, subsiding. The girl beside him bites her lip, a reproachful look in her eyes, and mumbles something Ran thankfully can't hear. But you, you smile broadly and settle into the seat next to him [just as he wanted you to]. You toss your bag at your feet and place your hand on his thigh. "I actually agree with Ran. It'd be strange for me to know you and not him. Do you know how much Rindou complains to me about him?"

Your teasing stings, and Ran rolls his eyes, playfully pinching you on the soft skin near your thumb. You squint, gritting your teeth, and he quickly presses his fingers over the irritated area, soothing the discomfort he caused. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be so harsh."

"You're insufferable. If I'd known you were here, I would've turned down Kakucho's invitation to come."

This hurts. Even as a joke it does and Ran releases your hand with a flick. "You're such a liar, ba…" A sudden cough interrupts him from adding a pet name and he frowns, turning his head to its source. It turns out to be the short blonde girl – the one he momentarily forgot was present.

"Akashi Senju," she says, offering him a small hand. "I'm her friend and Haruchiyo's sister."

"Senju also studies at Waseda, just like you. She's a first-year student," you add, grinning at your friend. "Anyway, aren't you hungry? You said you were starving."

The second you stand from your chair, Ran's mood darkens. He stares at your back, noting that you've changed since the morning, now wearing different jeans. He prefers the ones you had on earlier. These are a bit too low-rise for his taste, and the color doesn't sit right with him either. Did you practice at the studio and change into a new outfit? Or perhaps you came back home after your morning class and specifically changed for your meeting with Akashi?

"Don't bother asking me anything. I'm not in the mood," Ran says, noticing Kakucho's smug expression. "Oh, and Shion has paid for your ramen. Don't order anything."

"I wasn't planning to."

To what Kakucho is referring is a mystery Ran won’t entertain himself solving. For now, he has another thing to settle and that thing is his own melting heart.

He knocks on your door that same evening after dropping you out just hours before. The ride home from the ramen shop was silent for most part and your home was the first stop. He didn’t say goodbye as you silently closed the door wishing to see everyone soon again. And he didn't allow himself a pleasure of a biting remark – one that had been simmering on his tongue since Shion let out an unnecessary whistle upon meeting you – to slip and pierce through his friend. 

Both boys and the Akashi girl had asked to be dropped off at Nakano Station, which was relatively close to your apartment. Ran hadn't argued and hadn't offered anything in response. He is a mess and all he needs to calm down is you and your annoyingly good cherry tea. You made it every single time he was over.

So when he knocks on your door carrying two bags with a chicken logo – from a small restaurant he spotted on his way back that claimed to serve the best karaage – and a box full of glazed donuts from an American coffeehouse chain, he hopes you'll allow him another cup of tea.

"I knew you'd come," you say, stepping aside to let him in. "What did you bring? Oh! I love that place! Give me that, and go sit down. I'll grab the plates and everything."

But he doesn't sit. He follows you into the kitchen, observing as you tear into the bags, too impatient to untie knots. He smiles at your little quirks and habits. By now, he believes he knows you well. All the small details, bumps and preferences that are arranged in such a way, they make you. You are a thousand myriads of memories, of happiness and of never ending dark night and he wants to conquer every single one.

He wants you.

When you reach for two plates, he steps closer and wraps his arms around you, his hands over yours, he guides them to your chest. In this close proximity, he can smell the lingering fragrance of your shower gel and soap on your skin. He traces his lips over the damp skin of your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear.

"Were you planning on going out today?" he asks, not moving a single centimetre away. "You smell so good."

"No. I told you I knew you'd drop by, so I took a shower earlier. You always look so bored when I leave you alone while I'm showering."

He smiles into your skin and playfully nips it, licking the pain away immediately. He wants you, and he wants you to know it. He wants everyone else to know that you're wanted by him too. A purple mark blooms on your skin, and you tremble, your hands gripping his arms.

"Why are you so good to me? For me," he leans his head on yours and kisses the crown of your head, pulling you even closer to him. 

"Ran."

"Tell me."

You wait a second. Two. Three. More. Your breath quickens and he feels your heart pounding against his own, and he closes his eyes in an attempt to steady himself, to find some stability amidst the chaos that is you.

Somehow, he senses that whatever you're about to say won't be pleasant, which is perhaps why he doesn't rush you or urge you to continue. Instead, he litters your head and neck with kisses, communicating his love.

"You don't really like me, Ran, do you? You like Aoki."

Your  fingers are entwined with his, and he can't recall who initiated it. You or him.

"Bullshit. I barely remember her most days until you bring her up. Just what did she tell you? We never had anything going on."

"Maybe. But you don't like me. You like her, and that's why we shouldn't."

His kisses come to a halt. He gently turns you around to face him, searching your face. You don't appear sad or disappointed or disheartened. Maybe a little flustered and your eyes shine a different way. He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

"Bullshit."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're a terrible liar, Ran."

He scoffs. "I'm not. I am a good liar, but I am not lying to you when I say I want you. I need you. You are the one for me." "Then can we agree on one thing, Ran?" You take the hair ties out of his braids, your fingers deftly working to undo them.

"Anything you want."

"If we do this, can we agree not to kiss? At least until you figure out how you truly feel about me."

"That's ridiculous. What else? Should I take you from behind so we don't have to see each other's faces?" He is irritated, but not mad. Yet.

"Don't be crude. No, I just don't want to kiss you when you have feelings for someone else. I don't want to get too attached. I don’t kiss people without feelings." Your hands run through his hair, and he melts into the sensation. You're his solace, his sanctuary. He can't understand how you fail to see that.

"Please, Ran. It's more for me than for you, and I'm sorry."

He sighs, his thumb brushing over your lips. He had been looking forward to kissing you. Ran loves to kiss. But patience is often rewarded, right? Or something along those lines. It doesn't matter.

One day, he's sure he'll get to kiss you. He knows it.

"It's stupid, but alright. I'll kiss you when I'm certain I love you," he says, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your forehead. "I don't understand why I can't kiss you now, though, but anything for you. If it will make you feel better then okay.”

I'll do anything for you.

Damp beige sheets are scattered in the corner of the room near the door. The entire space is filled with the scent of sex and the nighttime city, and Ran never wants to leave. He feels at home.

His grey t-shirt you are wearing stands out on the clean black sheets you spread out a little before. You're lying on the bed with your limbs stretched out, your body still sensitive and trembling. The pose reminds him of starfish, and he bites back a laugh, his eyes twinkling with delight.

"Ran!" You roll your head to the side, propping yourself up and adjusting the pillow on the headboard to make yourself comfortable. You do the same for him, and his heart swells, yet again, for what feels like the millionth time and beyond this evening. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No. Why would I?" He places two bowls of karaage and rice – one for each of you – on the bed and slides under the blanket. Your bare thigh brushes against his hip. He isn’t wearing much. Just his boxers. And if he isn’t mistaken you too aren’t wearing anything except for his t-shirt.

“Don't know. You were just all smiles when I turned my head.”

He doesn’t grace you with a response, because just for this once he wants you to find the answer yourself. He wants you to read it in the depths of his eyes, in the creases that form beneath them, and in the glow of his lips. Lips you didn't get to kiss today. The chicken and rice are cold, but the food is still good and he has been starving ever since he got up from the bed and took you to the shower. You had been hazy and sensitive, his cum on your thighs and belly, and when the water was hitting your body it seemed like it was hurting you more than bringing you relief. He asked you if it was true, but you just nudged him closer, holding him close with your arms tightly wrapped around his waist. He'd carefully washed you clean.

"What's on your mind, Ran?" you ask, your chopsticks poised between your fingers. "Oh, wait, don't tell me. Let me guess."

As you contemplate your guess, your eyes scrutinize his face, and he notices  every small change it makes.. How your lips quiver after you lick them clean. How your eyes narrow as you attempt to focus on him. How you fidget with the wooden chopsticks, transferring them from one hand to the other. How you look flushed and innocent and so incredibly young and beautiful. How you now forever have him as a part of you. 

You sigh, your shoulders rising and falling gently. Your bowl is only half-empty, and he guesses that you probably aren’t the type to get hungry after sex. "Are you thinking about sex? Or maybe Rindou? Oh, no, wait! Maybe you're craving that dessert you love. What was it called? Rindou once made me get it for you because he said you were mad at him and it was the only thing that could save his life."

"How do Rin, sex, and my favorite dessert all fit together?" Ran sets his now-empty bowl aside and takes yours, which you kindly offer him to finish. "It doesn't really make sense."

"Your expression. You looked like you were thinking about something you really eally love."

So fucking innocently curious. So naively observant. So so so. Ran tries to grab what arises in his chest and what burns his throat, but he can’t, so he swallows and reaches out for you instead. Nestled in his arms, you fit perfectly, and he nuzzles his nose in your neck, which now carries the scent of him. He's never shared this level of intimacy with the girls he's been with before, but with you, it's different. With you, he can sense his imprints all over your body, just as he knows you've marked yourself onto him.

"Could you make me some of that cherry tea in the morning?" he murmurs into your skin. He senses a slight flinch as you're tickled, and to make amends, he places a soft little kiss there.

Your embrace tightens around him. "Were you thinking about my cherry tea?"

"Well, if you put it that way... yeah, I guess I was. Will you make it for me when we wake up?"

In this moment, in your bed, bodies entwined under warm blankets, Ran lies to you for the first time. And you both understand he's doing so. You both know he wasn't really thinking about cherry tea, but rather you.

And yet, no matter how terrifying it is, you comply, you choose to believe him and say, "Yeah, I will. Of course I will."

xi.

Rindou has a suspicion you are hiding something from him and he is determined to find out what. He is all in for secrets and mysteries, but not from you. When it comes to you he is greedy and he wants to know everything. So if you get hurt he will know whom to punch and what words to say to make the wound they inflicted upon you sting less.

Rindou, who has always been protected by Ran, loves to be protective of you. It’s a self-assigned role of a big brother he never was to anyone that he cherishes too much. But no matter how many times he has hinted - too bluntly - for you to pour your heart out to him, you simply don’t say what he wants to hear. He gets desperate and when one day he is high with Sanzu in his apartment, he asks him if he noticed it too. Your strange behaviour and how lately you’ve been smelling different. Like something too familiar and close to him.

In his typical manner, Sanzu laughs it off. He promises Rindou that there’s nothing to worry about, cause if you’d wanted to tell them you would’ve. And if not, then you will tell them later. You all are best friends and you will be so until the end of your days. A little trust, Rin, never hurt anybody.

There’s nothing left for him, but to agree, and yet the smell on your skin stays and in the next days all Rindou can is to get familiar with it since now it’s part of you.

The rumours that you slept with a college professor for the main stage in the showcase spreads around not so long after.

Rindou punches a guy who he overhears saying it in the cafeteria and almost gets detention for breaking university’s principles. But it doesn’t stop him from beating that guy up again. This time he is smarter. He does it outside of the school.

Knuckles bloody and torn he feels alive.

He isn’t that much surprised when he finds out it was Aoki who started this nasty lie about you.

After all, you’ve always been rivals.

“That was stupid, Rin.” You murmur sitting on the floor of their apartment. His hand rests in yours, a warm dead weight. The cotton ball soaked with vodka - they didn’t have any first aid kit at home - glides across his scraped skin. Despite you speaking gently, your movements are precise and harsh. You obviously are a bit mad or maybe sad and worried. “You know I don’t care what they say.” The alcohol stings his skin more than your words. He closes his eyes. “But I do. I can’t just brush it off if they call my best friend a whore right to my face.” 

“He didn’t see you,” you observe, quickly glancing at him, before returning to your task. 

“What a pity.” “Will he live?” you tear the gauze in two and wrap it around Rindou’s knuckles tying in with a pretty bow. He thinks it’s a bit excessive and he doesn’t really need something to cover up the wound, but he lets you tend to him. He likes it a bit too much to deny it. 

The water in the bathroom stops running and for a second it’s eerily quiet in the apartment. The only noise comes from honking cars - might be someone parking for too long - and people loudly laughing right under their building - might be a student couple that rents a flat above Haitani’s. Life never stops even when it stills for you. The world is wheeling around and around and around.

"What's with the hospital? What happened?" Veiled by his thoughts Rindou doesn’t notice his brother coming out of the bathroom. With Ran beside you looking at his hands, the world speeds up; Rindou subconsciousness suffers. “Hey, Rin! What happened?”

Without your permission he can’t tell the truth. He won’t dare to spill that ugly rumour about you and he won’t - everything inside him riot against this nasty lie - even say it outloud if you don’t want him to. Even to his brother. 

Rindou’s loyalty is his doom. “Rindou fought the guy who he caught saying I slept with mister Okamoto for the main role in the showcase.” There’s not a hinge of bitterness or resentment in you as you answer Ran’s question. 

Rindou wants to smack you.  He wants you to be more serious about yourself. He hates that you aren’t and he is surprised when Ran is. 

“Why would someone say that about you?” 

“Jealousy, I guess. It’s going to be the second year I am the lead.” You stand up from the floor and take the open bottle of vodka along with the remaining gauze and cotton balls to the kitchen. “Honestly, Ran, it’s just a stupid rumour. Why even bother? People are gonna talk anyway.”

“No. If we’ll make them, they won’t,” Ran retorts, going after you and Rindou can’t help, but turn around and peek out from the corner to get a better view. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I am being serious. Don’t let them come at you for something you didn’t do.”

“Yeah. You worked hard to be the lead. Don’t let them take it away from you.”

The simple truth is the hardest to swallow, and you almost crumble under its pressure. It's obvious to Rindou that you didn't like what the wind was carrying around the university's halls. Maybe it really didn't bother you that much, but it still soured your sweet success. He wished he could've helped before blood needed to be spilled. Because now, Rindou isn't sure if his warmth and care can make you feel better. What is left for you is to wrap his hands in gauzes and share the warmth of your existence.

And so he raises to his feet, to catch you one more time, to not let tears stain your cheeks and your heart.

“Oh, no, no.” It’s Ran. He reaches for your face and cups your cheeks between his palms, his big fingers erasing fat tears from your skin. He coos at you, eyes searching for you. “You know what? I don’t want to see you cry, and I bet Rin doesn’t want to see you cry either. But it’s okay if you want to. I won’t stop you. So cry all you want, and then I’ll take you to that restaurant I told you about. Alright? I am going to blow dry my hair, and we are good to go. Okay?”

Frozen, near the kitchen countertop stands Rindou. He takes his glasses off and wipes them with the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t dare to look at you, and besides, he isn’t even sure if he will see you. Your presence isn’t for him, and maybe it never was. Maybe he was never that important in your life; only a connecting chain to something bigger than him.

He can’t find you.

“I am sorry,” you whisper when Ran is gone to his room and your eyes are almost dry.

Rindou frowns. There’s no reason for you to apologize to him, and yet he leans into you, his forehead burrowing at your shoulder. “Whatever you say or do is okay. Remember? We accept each other as we are. You don’t have to pretend to be someone else around me.”

“I love you, Rindou.” Again, it’s a whisper, a small meaningful promise. “I love you so so much.”

“I know.” He laughs, suddenly uncomfortable and very shy. That new foreign smell of yours hits his nose and Rindou inhales it fully, filling his lungs with it and a realisation comes at him so simple, he thinks he knew it from the beginning. The shock he imagined he would go through isn’t here. Nothing is. Just acceptance and your detachedness in which he loses himself. You smell like his brother. Like Ran. You’ve been for a while. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you closer. His hands don't hurt him anymore. 

xii.

His fingers are warm on the gentle skin of your hips, and every little caress feels like millions of kisses planted straight to your heart.

Girls in your university and mutual friends through Rindou who slept with Ran had the tendency to discuss him in bed, and besides claiming that he always knew what he was doing and how he should do it, they always mentioned him being exceptionally rough. He never stayed at your place for a night, never brought you to his apartment in Roppongi (everyone assumed it was their mutual agreement with Rindou), and never slept with the same girl twice. Never. Never. Never. There were too many rules and details for you to remember. Laying under him on his bed in his room you would swear they all were liars.

Running your fingers through his long hair and combing them behind his ears so they won’t tickle you falling onto your face, you moan from the burning pleasure that never left you from the moment Ran declared he wanted you.

Slow, but powerful rolls of his hips catch you off guard - they always do - and you tug at his hair a bit too harshly. His face comes closer to yours and your naked chest touches his, he brushes against your hard nipples, and with pure curiosity and pleasure watches you close your eyes, back detaching your body from the damp sheets. It’s like you want to be closer to him. Like you run into his arms; into him.

[He accepts you.] He welcomes you.

The exposed marked skin of your neck comes into his vision and he leans down to kiss you there. Mark it again. Purple on purple. More purple. You and him are the same colour. 

His breathy whispers burn like holy oil. Something sacred that was never meant to be shared with anyone else. “So good for me, baby. Always good. It’s you. Only you for me. Right, baby? I am yours. Oh God, I am yours, baby.”

More confessions. More promises. More spilled love.

With you Ran is always tender. He always eats you out - despite you not wanting to, since you say it’s like a kiss, too intimate - and he always stretches you before he puts his cock inside you so it won’t hurt you. He always listens to your needs, without you voicing them out even once. And after you are done you both eat and talk and laugh, and then go at it again. 

After the fifth time you are sure that Ran Haitani never fucked you, but made love to you. And it was not in the tempo or poses he had you in or where you had sex or if he initiated it or you or how many times you both finished or many other stupid reasons. No. It was in his touches, his words, his smiles, his laughs, his gestures, his eyes and how soft they were right after or sometimes in the moment.

It was in his being and how you both felt around each other. 

Today, when Ran cums, your lower part warm with it, he crushes you with his body. You stroke his toned shoulders and back. It’s not just his hair that gets your attention. It’s every part of his body. You love to please him too. His breath is hot against your ear shell, and you squirm, grazing your nails against his tattooed skin. He winces, but laughs, detaching himself from you.

“I am so spent,” he confesses, yawning and you giggle at this natural confirmation from his body. “Do you wanna take a nap? We can order something later or go out. I wouldn’t mind having shabu-shabu. Whatcha think?”

You bite your lip, pretending to consider his offer, when in reality you already know you’ll agree and now you are just taking him in. Ran is very beautiful. Womanly pretty.

"Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

Before Ran rolls to his side, he kisses you in the corner of your lips and then up your face to your brows. Never on your lips. Because you asked and he promised. Genuine content smile brightens up your drown in pleasure face.

"You know," he muses, "I like your red-haired friend more now."

You laugh, immediately understanding what he meant by that and as if the sound of your laugh is an alarm for his need to be close to you, Ran shifts closer to you, bringing you too, flash against his naked body. Skin to skin.

"His hair is pink, and his name is Haruchiyo. But you always say his hair is red. It's kind of funny," you murmur, closing your eyes. Your body is too sensitive for you to move much without feeling the never ending hunger for Ran, but you still do and you gasp, your palms gripping onto his shoulders. 

He smirks and lets you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck. You kiss him there.

"Yeah, Haruchiyo. Next time, I'll pay him myself to take Rin to Hakone. For a whole week. Anyway, let's sleep. I want to make you feel good again when we wake up. Do you want me to wake you up with my fingers or my mouth? You seem like you need it. You are so fucking sensitive everytime we have sex. It’s like I am your first and you never had decent co…”

"Rude, Haitani," you slap his back. Gently. "So rude."

Silence settles over the room and your breaths even out. You think he has fallen asleep. His chest rising up and down. His body is warm and solid and heavy next to yours. Your fingers continue their dance across his nape.

"But you still like me, right? Rude or not?" He asks, his voice a bit clearer than before, and you know that he has been thinking about this all this time.

Without a delay or hesitation, you speak. "Yes, I do. Rude or not."

Again, he doesn’t reply back and after an unknown amount of lost time, you understand that he indeed has fallen asleep. You follow him right after, thinking that maybe his question was more serious than you initially thought it was.

xiii.

The plans for Rindou’s surprise birthday party were made in advance in the kitchen of your apartment.

For the first time in four years that you’ve become a part of Rindou’s life, Ran lets you both - you and Haruchiyo - to play a part in the arranging of the birthday party for his brother. He does it because of you, of course. Another reason is knowing that Rindou will be very pleased and happy. Unlike Ran, Rindou likes surprises. It was your idea to veil every little preparation, location and guest list with exciting secrecy. Both boys [under an insane amount of pressure] promised you to not even speak of the upcoming birthday to Rindou. Let alone spill any details or hints about the party. 

Just a few days before it Haruchiyo however sitting in the cafeteria accidentally mentioned to Rindou that the colour of banana milk reminded him of kitchen countertops in the house Ran rented for the surprise party. He was saying it with a huge smile on his face that quickly faded when he realised what he said. You - who obviously had a huge soft stop for Haruchiyo - didn’t even get mad at him. You all laughed it off and Rindou asked no questions, appreciating your efforts. 

"Can you believe it?" Happy Birthday Rindou garland shimmers in your hands. You tape the second end of it to the wall and lean back, looking at it, trying to see if it’s even. It’s the fifth time now and Ran slowly loses his patience. He doubts Rindou would notice if it declines for one degree. “I thought you would be the one who would uncover us.”

The ladder echoes a clunking sound as you come down. You fall right into Ran’s arms who were steading it for you the whole time, hands gripping the metal so you didn’t fall. He is surprised. “Me? Why? You know I am actually good at keeping secrets.”

“I know you are.” Hands on your chest, you squint at the wall, overlooking the garland. Your expression is hard and serious and no matter how much Ran tries to decipher it he can’t. Silently, he prays you won’t readjust it yet again. He is getting tired and he still needs to fill the fridge with beers and what else alcohol he bought. There were also snacks and fairy lights to be taken care of. At least, all the vases and unnecessary fragile decorations were already sitting in the storage. 

“Does it look good?” Ran asks, hopefully. “To me it seems fine. From where I stand. But it seemed fine the second time too. Maybe you just should draw a huge line with a pencil on the wall so you could see where you should hang it. Or you know what? Rindou will be fine without garland. He’ll live. It’s not like he knows we were gonna hang it.”

The silence on your end is scaring him. Is this stupid garland really so uneven? He steps in front of you and scrutinizes the wall. Everything is perfect. The colorful "Happy Birthday Rindou" written on the beige wall looks fine; the tape is not visible and every letter is as neat as it could be. When the silence stretches, he groans and grabs hold of the ladder. The metal is warm under his palms from how long he has been holding it.

“Ran.” He feels your lovely hands and you pressed to him before he registers you calling his name. All frustration and tiredness are exterminated from him, thrown out of the window the second you open your mouth.

"Mhm?"

The softness of your body melts into his existence and he cranes his neck at the angle where he can see you.

Your eyes are already waiting for him and he is met with so much tenderness and endearment and fondness he resists the urge to kiss you and it’s the worst fight he’s ever been into.

His body is bruised and ugly. He is losing.

“The garland is fine.”

“Is it?” The sudden eagerness in his voice makes you giggle. He giggles with you. “I expect the same garland for my birthday. You’ve got to put Rin through the same shit as me.”

“Do you want us to rent you a house too?”

He hums, thinking of an answer. His fingers slip between yours. “Yeah. Two floors, and I want the backyard facing the ocean. A pool is a must, too. Oh! And the guest list? I’ll make it myself. Rin would invite people I dislike just to annoy me.”

“Deal.” A wet touch of your lips encourages shivers. His eyelids tremble as he closes his eyes, losing himself in your affection. You press another kiss under his ear and then on his jaw, only to move to his cheeks, and then to the corner of his lips.

His only instinct is to follow you, lean into you, reach out to you and for a second his lips are on yours, but you move away and he curses. Turning around, Ran pushes you towards the huge oak table and you comply, jumping on it. Your legs are spread for him and yet you push him away when he grabs the hem of your shirt. 

Your palm on his chest he hopes you can feel how his heart reacts to you. And as if you do - or maybe it’s something else, Ran hopes it’s something else, something sweet and precious where you can’t deny him - your open palm turns into fist and you bring him closer. You pepper his face with small kisses and it’s embarrassing for him to think how happy he gets, how you can ask of him anything now and he will do it. Be it steading the ladder for you or bringing you hot gazing stars from outer space. 

“You are so lovely, Ran.” 

Oh God. 

“Anything for you. Lovely, gentle, harsh, rude… yours. However, you'll want me.”

There’s a known firefly in your eyes and he holds your face. At this point you are just staring at each other, searching for answers or commuting without words. Or maybe both. “Yeah. I like it all. Remember? I’ve told you before.” “Say it again, then. I like hearing it.” And you do. I like you. I like you. I accept you, Ran. I like you. I like you. I like you. 

Pink looks pretty on you and Ran knows it. 

You sway with his younger brother in the middle of the huge living room of the rented house for which Ran paid a bit too much [but you were so adamant it was perfect and Rindou would absolutely love it so he couldn’t say no] and laugh. Your head thrown back, you hold hands with Rindou as he swirls you around, careful to not let go of you. 

You are the centre of this party and Ran’s attention. 

The beer in his cup is still cold and he sips on it watching you having the time of your life celebrating the existence of his little brother. The fact that you so dearly love and care for Rindou touches Ran’s heart more than it should, but it does and it warms the world around him. He tries to remember if someone from his own friends has this much love for him as you do for Rindou and suddenly he can’t name a single one. It’s a moment of loneliness and fear. Ran can deal with both, because he will always have Rin and Rin will always have you. So it’s fine. Everything is fine and the party goes smoothly just like you planned it. There’s enough food and alcohol and people who are here are the ones Rindou is happy to see. All his previous birthdays - and Ran’s too - they celebrated at clubs. Tones of booz, weed and girls never made Rindou smile as brightly as he did through the whole evening and well into the night. There was something alluring in intimacy that Ran never felt or noticed before and that he waited all his life to learn through you. 

So he drinks a bit more and watches you dance in your pink croco trousers and he knows you look unbelievably good. So good all he wants now is to get you in his car and drive you far far far away where no one could take you from him. For good measure he’ll lock you in the house [of his heart]. The keys will be thrown away with eyes closed so even he wouldn’t know where to look for them. No escape from this dream land of his. Forever imprisoned the two of you. 

It gets hard to breathe as if Ran is the one to dance and laugh. Leaving his unfinished beer on the table, Ran goes outside. He catches Kakucho’s questioning gaze on him, but mouths a simple ‘i am fine’ and then he is all alone again.

It’s chilly outside. The night sky is clouded and no stars can be seen from the porch. Two houses down there’s another party. Music travels this short distance, but as if there’s an invisible divider, it stops exactly in the middle and never touches their own music. Ran can clearly hear both songs and this alone creates a peculiar sense of detachment. It’s like he is here and then it’s like he never was and never would be.  Much to his displeasure it’s not you who finds him there. He didn’t even know he was waiting for you until viscous regret filled his lungs and the disappointment rested in his chest. He might have been scowling because the girl before him looked, if not scared, confused for sure. 

“Don’t say you don’t remember me.” The girl is beautiful, and Ran thinks he saw her at your university. She steps closer and brings her face right to his, her brown eyes waiting for recognition, but when even proximity doesn’t ring a bell, she pouts. “What they say about you is right. You never called me back.”

Oh. That’s why she looked familiar. Ran has slept with her. He gives her a dead stare, not in the mood to make a joke out of it. He turns his back on her. “Well, I never call anyone back. It’s always a one-time thing.”

He expects the girl to be offended or for the poison of humiliation to spread through her veins, but obviously, none of it happens. Instead, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and leans on the wooden rails, overlooking the empty night street. “It’s stupid, but I thought I might be good enough for you to change your mind,” the girl giggles. She lights a cigarette for herself and doesn’t offer one to Ran. “But you don’t even remember me. You don’t, do you?”

“No. I don’t.” There’s no point in lying, and Ran doesn’t care if he hurts her. She’s been hurt before and she will be after this insignificant encounter.

“Do you wanna fuck now?” The answer is immediate and it’s the same as before. “No. I don’t.” 

“Not with me?” Lit cigarette between her fingers stands out on a stormy night sky. 

“No. Not with you.” 

The cloud of smoke escapes the girl's mouth and Ran stares at it for a bit, trying to remember how it tasted when he kissed her. But he can’t. It’s not her mouth that he sees, but an empty place. It’s scary. 

You and your crucifying rule that broke his bones everytime he was with you made kisses mean a lot and dissolved those that he shared before into drivel. They didn’t mean anything. 

Ran never remembered his first kiss. 

He guesses it happened when he was thirteen with a girl that was much older. It probably was a bet. 

The butt of the cigarette with dark stains from the girl’s lipstick is pressed against the wooden floor. The light dies. “You look awfully sick with love, Ran Haitani. It does suit you, though. Your eyes look more alive. Usually, they were like you just murdered someone. It’s scary.”

Fat raindrops hit the pavement and soon the world around is speaking. Ran can’t tell what it’s trying to say, but his heart tells him it is a premonition. A little prophecy, because what is born meaningless has a tendency to die as the most important thing. 

But of course, there are exceptions. 

There are memories, people and webs that were and always would have the dearest place in Ran’s heart. There is you and there was Aoki Ogura and now next to him is the girl he had slept with once and doesn’t even remember. There is the smell of rain and a few seconds ago there was a lit cigarette, the fire of it now dead. It’s a birthday party of his little brother, his only family, and it’s a day when Ran realises some things aren’t our choices, but are chosen for us. 

No matter how much we want, we can't change them, because just for once it didn’t happen because of us, but because of who we are.  The rain intensifies. Chills creep under Ran’s thin grey blouse. Are your pink trousers and white tee keeping you warm enough? He desperately needs to know. Now. 

“What’s your name?” Ran is at the door. His hand lies on the handle.

The girl raises her hands in the air, gasping. She pretends to be offended. In reality, she isn’t. There’s not a tinge of sadness in her. “It’s Hatsu Ikazuchi.”

The beginning of thunder. How fortunate. How coincidentally amusing and pretty. Life is full of wonders. The door behind Ran softly closes. Rain and storms stay on the other side.

xiv.

The second Rindou accidentally learns about the party, he knows it was your idea. 

When he steps out of the car and sees the prettiest house he knows it was you who chose it. The small hidden alley where it stands and green pots with pink flowers are definitely what made the cut for you. And then, when he enters the house and everyone screams happy birthday Rindou, and he shushes them so he can greet every single person there, he knows it was you who decided who should be invited.

It’s the same with the cake that you bring out to the living room singing-whispering his favourite song, instead of the classical happy birthday one. He knows it was you who ordered it and decided on the fillings. You hold it before him, a huge happy smile on your pretty face, and he closes his eyes to make a wish before he blows off the candles. Ran stands behind you, his chin on your shoulder watching his brother, but Rindou barely notices this unusual proximity. He only sees the fairy lights and decorations.

He knows it was all your doings too.

He is happy and he is loved and he drowns in your love the whole evening and well into the night.

He only loses you right after the clock strikes two when Haruchiyo finds him and urges him to smoke. They share a joint on the second floor in the bathroom. And even in the state Rindou is in now, he thinks about you. How you’d be mad if you were to find them smoking in this enclosed space without a window. How you’d scold them like you always do and say that weed smells disgusting. How you’d still slide down the door and sit on cold tiles with them, breathing smoke from it into your lungs, intoxicating yourself to the maximum. You’d laugh and smile looking at them both, your best friends, and in those moments everything in the world would be right. 

High as kite - because it’s a special birthday joint, claims Haruchiyo - from half of the cigarette and drunk on God knows how many beers and two cocktails with an unknowing mix of alcohol in each, Rindou stumbles down the stairs. Haruchiyo follows suit. With mouths dry as parchment they go into the kitchen where they gulp down two bottles of water, one and a half litre each. 

The thirst subsides and they giggle, finding the situation funny. The party carries on and so does the fun. Behind the veil of smoke and fog and fun everything [and everyone] seems brighter - happier - than they really are. Weed is better than alcohol, but both of it mixed together is a devastating cocktail of unknown feelings and emotions, so bright and positive, Rindou wants to stay in this superficial land forever. 

But the effect will wear out with time and nothing but sadness and regret will stay. And when Rindou will wake up in the morning, he will be grumpy and untalkative and borderline aggressive, angry thoughts swarming inside his pounding head. He might throw up or he might not and when this state too will pass, for there is nothing permanent, he will wonder if sadness and hostility is all he has. This eats Rindou alive. 

But there is still time till this terrifying clarity. 

For now everything is blurry. And he is happy. He allows himself to be. 

A very gracious birthday present. 

Together, with Haruchiyo they find you in the company of Senju, Ran and his friends. In the midst of loud music and the smell of alcohol, your small circle gives the impression of a cold calm island, warm to its habitants and cold to intruders. There’s an effortless conversation that flows between you all. He has no idea what it is you are talking about, but it must be something very interesting to each of you, because your eyes sparkle and everyone speaks almost at the same time, contributing to the discussion. 

A deep gut feeling of being unwanted washes over him and Rindou’s body is sticky, clothes too close to skin. Blood pumps loudly in his head and for a second or two all he hears is a stretching white noise. It calls out for him, forms a message, something so important and crucial, but it disappears before Rindou can decipher the meaning behind its static nature. And then, his brain overwhelmed and tired, his being happy and loved, he thinks that maybe some things aren’t worth reading into. Maybe it all happens just because and maybe nothing has any sacred meaning. 

Maybe living in the absence of all is easier and maybe that’s what Rindou chooses in the moment Senju spots them and waves her hand urging them to join your company.  

“My favorite birthday boy!” You exclaim, stretching your hands toward him. He accepts your invitation and dives into your arms, stumbling over his unstable feet. He falls face down onto the sofa, and Senju, who had been sitting next to you, groans and moves to the floor. But she doesn’t say anything to him because today is his birthday, and he is allowed a little more than he usually is.

“Am I really your favourite?” Rindou asks, his tongue loose from the effects of alcohol. His head rests on your shoulder, and he tilts his head to take a good look at you. You are a bit drunk yourself. Your eyes are only half-opened, and you look undeniably sexy and warm. “Tell me the truth.”

You squint your eyes, pretending to think, and he whines at you, causing you to laugh. He is happy with himself because of that. He is even happier when you ruffle his hair and whisper to him, "You are. Even when you reek of weed and beer." You lick your lips before you continue, a bit more serious than before. "Even if you find yourself a pretty girl and dump me because she's going to be jealous of us."

"No one's gonna date us with you in the picture, baby. Honestly?" Haruchiyo chimes in. He sits on the floor next to Kakucho, opposite you. Only when you and Rindou turn your heads his way, your attention fully on him, does he continue speaking. "Even I feel jealous of you, and I'm a part of our threesome."

The interrogation on Rindou’s behalf falls short at that and you slump into scolding Haruchiyo for his poor choice of words to describe your friendship. You argue, as you usually do, because obviously to Haruchiyo the threesome sounds okay and he even claims he heard someone at university refer to your trio using it and he in fact is not the one who came up with it. At that you gasp and a sound too similar to a sad wolf howl comes out of your throat. 

"Actually, you know what I always wanted to ask?" Interrupts Shion. He is taking the first long drag from his cigarette. The smell of smoke that hits Rindou’s nostrils almost immediately indicates that they are cherry-flavored. It's quite a strange choice on Shion's side, if you were to ask Rindou. "How did you all meet? You are super close. I’ve been looking at you today, and if Ran hadn’t told me before that you are seeing someone, I would’ve thought you are dating our birthday boy."

All attention has you as the centre and for a split moment Rindou is sober. All haze and blurriness swept away leaving the palace for stunning clarity. But he feels how tense your limp body gets and he sees his brother who sits at your feet with your left leg thrown over his shoulder, laying his head on your thigh. Ran smirks as he waits for your answer, but he knows his brother the best, so the sweet tender expectancy doesn’t go unnoticed. Nor does the gentle caressing of his fingers around your ankle. 

“We actually met through Haru, who I knew because I am friends with Senju. We went to the same high school.”

Shion nods. He brings a bottle of sui-umeshu to his lips and, not taking his eyes away from you, takes a large sip. When he is done, the sweet liquor swallowed, he asks you, "Why is your boyfriend not here?"

"He isn't my boyfriend yet. We are still figuring it all out," you retort. You tilt your head to the side and playfully smile at Shion. "And just why are you so interested in him?"

“I am not interested in him. I am interested in you.” 

"Oh," the smile is gone from your face and you stare at Shion as if you are seeing him for the very first time. "Thank you."

The rest of the night is spent almost quietly. You dance some more. You drink and Haruchiyo smokes again. This time with Senju on the damp porch. The rain that Rindou never acknowledged has stopped. The air now is cold and crispy. It finally feels like winter is just around the corner. 

The golden light of sunrise adorns the living room, building an illusion of it being way more spacious and bigger than it really is. Rindou can barely stand on his own feet. He so desperately needs to go to bed and sleep until it’s well after noon. And yet, he comes to a halt when he hears your quiet laughing and Ran’s murmuring. Through the buzzing in his head he can’t hear what you are talking about, and even if he wants to eavesdrop, he won’t. He respects you and he respects his brother. He respects his loving touches and he respects your choice. So, he goes straight into the kitchen and the first thing he sees is not your blood splashed across your white t-shirt in bright stains, but Ran’s gentle moves when he wipes your face. Come to think of it, his brother was always like that around you. Curious and tender even in anger. The softness doesn’t evaporate from Ran when he looks up and sees his brother standing in the arc that connects the living room and kitchen. 

"Did you get the nosebleed again?" The house is silent, so Rindou’s voice echoes through it like a bell in the middle of a field.

Somehow, Rindou imagines it’s sunny there in that field of his despite dark heavy clouds hanging low in the sky. It’s going to rain, but before it will, there will be a thunderstorm. This time Rindou is going to be there to see it. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry though. I am just tired. That’s all.” 

Contradiction arises in him and guilt fills his throat to the brim. He can’t say anything so he just stares at the white wet towel  in Ran’s hands. Its twisted tip all red and pulpy. Behind you, on the beige plain wall, is a garland. It says “Happy Birthday Rindou”. He wants to take it home with him and put it under his bed, in his heart, to store it there forever as a reminder that someone cares for him. [Always will]. 

There are so many words and confessions he desires to share with you, but instead, he says, “I am going to sleep. Can we go for yakitori when I wake up? I just know I am gonna be starving.”

“Nankotsu or tebasaki?” Suddenly excited, you turn your head toward him.

“Both?” “Fuck, I love you so much, Rindou! You are the best!” “I know. I know. I love me too.” 

“Okay you all enough with love. Let’s take your makeup off too, while I am at it. Now, look at me.” Without anything to say Rindou leaves. He goes upstairs and without taking a shower goes straight to his makeshift bed for today. He is sharing a room with Kakucho who is already asleep. His light snores break the solemnity of the room.

Undressed, in his boxers, Rindou comes up to the window that overlooks the neighbour's patio. Classic Japanese garden stares back at Rindou and he tries hard to remember when was the last time he saw one. He can’t. It’s a bit sad. He finds himself liking the moss, the rocks and those pretty wooden lanterns. Beauty is simple; he appreciates it. 

At last, he closes the window, shutting curtains tight. Today was a good day. He felt loved and needed and cared for. 

Rindou wishes every day was like this one, but then wouldn’t its significance be lost on him? Life is a contradiction and Rindou loves it too. Just for today he allows himself to. 

xv.

Flowers bloom inside you when Ran’s hips meet yours and you moan into his shoulder, your teeth drawing blood from his skin there. 

Arms limp around his neck, your body violently quivers and he, too vulnerable and high on his own orgasm, spreads his palms across your naked back, running them up and down. Mouth hungry on your skin he leaves open sloppy kisses across your neck. It does little to calm you down. It does nothing at all to subside the hunger and emotions you have for him in this moment [and always]. 

"Shit, I bit you. I am sorry," you say, your breath still hitched. You run a finger across the mark, wiping the blood that stains Ran’s perfectly smooth skin. "Didn't want anyone to hear us. Does it hurt?"

Tilting his head to the side, his palms on the small of your back, Ran inspects the damage. He winces, and in your blissfully tired state, you don’t pay attention to how fake that wince sounds or how unnaturally he grimaces when you touch the wound again. "It…"

He doesn’t have a chance to finish, because you run your fingers around the mark and bring your lips closer to it, pecking the red irritated skin there in an attempt to soothe the pain. Ran freezes. All jokes and teasing he intended to voice die. 

He dies with them.

“Ran are you okay? Does it hurt that much? I kissed it because I thought it might lessen the pain. I probably only irritated it more. I am sorry. Let me go take a look if they have band aids in the bathroom.” You are still sitting on his lap with him inside of you and your legs still tremble, but now only lightly and you think you can stand up and walk the short distance to the en-suite bathroom. But when you lift yourself off him, Ran grips your hips so harshly you yelp. 

You are confused. Lines on your forehead you look at him with a question in your eyes. Did you do something wrong? Was he repulsed by your spontaneous biting? Love is about questions and you drown in them. It’s fortunate that Ran holds you just where you should be held. “Don’t go. It doesn’t hurt at all. I haven’t even noticed you bit me until you said. I was just teasing you.” 

In the silence that follows, each of you think of some distant places that never correlate with each other and yet even there you are together. In the comfortable familiarity and warmth of his body you doze off. Ran’s huge tattoo fades away with every drop of your eyelids; little butterflies landing on ink orchids. You swear you can smell their faint flowery aroma, but that simply can’t be true. 

A lot of things can’t be true and yet you choose to believe in them. 

"A girl today asked me to have sex with her, and I refused," Ran says after a while.

Sleepy, you place your chin on his chest, locking a gaze with him. Ran does have the prettiest eyes, you think. But instead, you ask him, "Was it Ikazuchi?"

His blonde brows coming together, he tries really hard to remember. So hard a deep wrinkle appears on his forehead. You raise your head and smoothe it, waiting for it to disappear. You don’t like seeing him troubled and now he looks like that whole encounter was unpleasant for him. 

"I can’t remember," he says honestly, catching your hand when it wipes at his eyebrows. He brings it to his mouth and kisses your knuckles.

"Oh, it was her. I know," you giggle, a stray ray of bleak mid-autumn sun pecking at your face, causing you to squint as you squirm on top of Ran. He whines, and you press a hand over his mouth, whispering, "Ran, don’t do that! You’ll wake someone up."

You see him roll his eyes, and then it’s you who is screaming, because he holds you by your waist and flips you over, so that you are under him. "So much for 'Ran, don’t!'" He mimics your voice and intonation a bit too perfectly, and then he stops, and you can only imagine what makes him shut up. But he stares at you, his half-closed eyes forever young and full of longing. You can only guess what’s going on in his mind.

Bathed in morning sun and your love Ran looks exceptionally beautiful. 

“What is it?” 

There’s no hesitation in his reply. "You are pretty."

And there’s no hesitation when he brushes his lips against yours. His breath is warm and sweet and he is your new source of air, because altogether you stop to breathe and it’s him who inhales life in you. Like a little lamb before sacrifice you stare at him with wide eyes. So full of questions. So full of don’t you remember I told you not to kiss me before you feel something for me. If you ever feel something for me. 

It’s a plea. It’s an incantation. It’s his chance; his doom and forgiveness. 

“I should’ve done it before,” he mumbles. Lips on lips. He has been inside you a few moments ago and numerous times before that, but you swear he has never been this close. “Should’ve kissed you when I’ve seen you cry that day. Should’ve kissed you when you undid my hair before we went to sleep that very first night. Should’ve fucking known I liked you all this time.”

Salty sad tears draw pretty patterns on your face and you choke on sobs, too overwhelmed, too shocked and so desperately confused. All the thinking process in you comes to a halt - blame it on your tipsiness, tiredness or early hours of the morning - and you shake your head, hands reaching out to Ran, clutching onto him. 

You are contradicting yourself and you know that. But you can’t think what’s more disappointing: that you are uncontrollable or that you don’t believe that Ran likes you. He is made of white lies. Always have been and yet you choose want need to trust him. 

In the clouds of white sheets and duvets he rolls to his side and brings you closer. With one swift strong motion he throws your leg over his hip so even air can’t come between your bodies. He wipes at your face and the uncharacteristic patience and understanding he shows you, are enough for you to peck his lips. He smiles against them, into the kiss, and it’s sincere. 

“Don’t want you to cry,” he whispers. “Especially over me. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Hand on your waist, Ran nuzzles up to you, his nose brushing over yours and you surrender. 

You fall to pieces. 

“Only wanted to say how I feel. Would’ve done it before if it wasn’t so hard to understand. Why when it’s real it’s so hard to realise you are in love with someone?” 

Leaning your forehead on his, you sniffle, but you aren’t sad anymore and you don’t cry. It’s a light grey feeling that envelopes you and if it means that this is what Ran Haitani’s love feels like you are okay with it. You accept it. 

"It wasn’t hard for me," you say, and Ran reclines back, taking you in, his head and heart full of you.

“What?” “I said it wasn’t hard for me to understand how I feel about you.” He grins then and he looks so boyish, so happy, so content your heart explodes, its broken fragments piercing through his chest to fill up cracks in him where nothing could before. 

This time, when Ran kisses you, his fingers caressing your jaw, you respond to him. It’s shy and testing at first, but soon it gets sloppy and it’s wet and messy and lots of tongue. It’s so so so good you don’t need him to get you ready and you don’t need a lot of time to come undone again. 

Again and again and again. 

xvi.

It’s been weeks since Rindou’s birthday party and by the mouth pressed into thin line and grumpy hooded eyes that Rindou only has with Ran, he can tell that his brother has a lot of questions that burn him on the inside. 

However Rindou doesn’t ask them and Ran would never feed his brother’s pride by responding to them before he was even interrogated. That it’s going to be an interrogation he doesn’t doubt for a split second. Glares and muttering Rindou provides Ran every time they are in the same room are enough to guess. It’s late November when Rindou finally snaps. 

Ran is putting on his black boots he bought a few days ago in Harajuku after getting his hair done when the burning sensation on the back of his head intensifies. It’s a little after eight and he is worried he is going to be late to pick you up from the practice. Earlier today, you agreed to meet at nine thirty. If Rindou holds him for more than three minutes he won’t be there on time and while Ran is always late he hates to be late to you. 

Dressed in all black - black hakama, black button up and black socks - Rindou reminds Ran of a kid who pretends he is into fashion, but can only mix and match black clothes and even that isn't given since Ran can clearly see that Rindou’s hakama is slightly darker than his t-shirt. He bites a smile, averting his eyes from Rindou so he won’t notice the playfulness that spills from him. Of course, Rindou does notice. 

Of course, he groans and Ran can only imagine what names his little brother has called him inside his head. 

"What don’t you like about my outfit this time?” Rindou spreads his hands across his freshly ironed clothes and places them on his hips. He looks down at himself, but Ran is sure that no matter how much he tries, he'll never understand. Finally, he raises his now angry eyes and looks at the smiling Ran. “Is it my pants?”

“No.” 

“Then what is it? I can tell you think there’s something wrong with it.” 

Orange sun paints their apartment in a pretty peach colour. It licks at Rindou’s blonde hair and he is even more handsome than he usually is. Ran looks at him, while he stands before him frustrated, angry and lost, and in this moment he knows he won’t ever forgive himself if he wrongs his younger brother. He doesn’t remember when Rindou became so big and how his shoulders are even broader than Ran’s are and he for sure missed a moment when Rindou started dating, but he will never forget this particular moment. 

When Rindou is twenty and sunset kisses his existence. 

“The hakama colour doesn’t match with the button up.” 

“Oh.” Rindou's fingers circle around the collar of the blouse, and now he isn’t just lost, angry, and frustrated, but also self-conscious and lonely.

As an older brother Ran has - always had and always will - many responsibilities. To provide, to keep safe, to care and to love. To spare from the misery of unknowingness. Never to betray. 

And that’s why, this time, Ran gives in. He kneels down to tie his left boot and answers a question that wasn’t asked but was thought. “Yes, I am going to see her, and then I’ll take her to eat whatever she wants today. We might take a walk right after dinner or go straight to 7-Eleven and buy her favorite pudding and that stupid pizza-flavored snack she likes so much. I’ve grown to like it too by now. It isn’t too bad. Anyway, when we are inside her apartment, I’ll start kissing her the second I close the door behind us, and we’ll probably take it to the shower, and after the shower, to her bed. If she doesn’t fall asleep immediately, we’ll eat, and in the morning…”

“Does she let you eat on her bed?” 

Done with his laces, Ran raises up, he blinks at his brother, and a shit-eating grin spreads on his face. “Well, yes, she does. Always. Why?”

“Really?!” Under the circled tinted glasses, Rindou blinks a couple of times. “She gave me and Haruchiyo a lecture about how we can’t eat in bed. How are you supposed to sleep with crumbs under your asses? You absolutely shouldn’t eat in bed. Especially you, Rindou. You always spill the sauce.”

The imitation of your voice is pretty accurate. Down to the intonation and pauses you do when you are speaking and Ran can’t help, but laugh. His brother does know you well. It’s a pang in his heart. He can’t translate it into words. 

“I guess she just likes you more than us,” concludes Rindou. He adjusts his glasses and points at the pile of shoes by the door, leaving no room for Ran to contradict. Rindou blurts out almost immediately, “YSL or Yamamoto boots? What do you think?”

They settle on the Japanese designer, because Ran claims the European vibe doesn’t really suit Rindou. He also doesn’t change the button-up and it’s been more than three minutes. 

The sky is a deep blue, borderline black, when they enter Itabashi area. The roads are unusually empty for this time of the day and a few stars appear each time it darkens one shade more. Today the world is very beautiful and Ran hopes on his way back it still will be so you can see it yourself too. These floating lights, rich colours and street lamps with their alien light. 

“I don’t think she likes me more, Rin,” Ran's voice breaks the absolute silence that reigns within the car. The engine of Ran’s Honda continues its song, undisturbed and infinite. “Our significance for her is different. And not on the scale of lesser to greater.”

Beside him in the passenger seat, Rindou stretches, his palms hitting the roof of the car. “Honestly? I could kinda tell you were always into each other. All this bickering, sneak glances, accidental touches. And you never once forgot her birthday in three years. Don’t know why I was so surprised she started to smell like you in the summer.”

“Smell like me?” Despite them being on the road Ran turns his head to the left and stares at his brother. “What does it even mean?” To that Rindou never responds. He shrugs as if he never said what he just said and Ran’s curiosity remains a hungry fox. 

In less than twenty minutes they’ll reach you. They both wonder if you will wait for them outside and if not, who of them should come pick you up from the studio. 

“Can we stay at our place today? We can invite Haru, Kaku and maybe Senju over? Would be nice to watch something and eat. I think the DVD rental next to us should be still open.” 

Loneliness, myriads of sparkling little fireflies, illuminate the space between Ran and Rindou, and Ran bumps his brother on the shoulder with his fist, playfully but not too strongly. He communicates to him, "I am always here. I always will be." Then he suggests, “Of course. Shoot them a message. Say the food is on us, but if they want to drink something, they should bring it themselves.”

A huge toothy smile appears on Rindou’s face and that’s how Ran knows his brother understands that love is never divided between people. It’s shared and fed in equal amounts. Just differently. 

“Oh. And mention that if anyone is to crash at our place they might be ready to hear a few whimpers here and there.” 

With his eyes already on the phone, fingers typing away messages to their friends, Rindou raises his head and gives his brother a disgusted look. "What?"

“Your friend is awfully loud in bed. That’s what I am saying.” 

“Gross. Stop the car.” Ran laughs and when he catches Rindou’s smiling, shaking his head in a what-a-bastard way, he laughs some more. The firefly of loneliness is dead by now.

More cars pass them on the highway and nothing feels real. 

xvii.

The park near their house is not that grand as the park you always stop by after Ryou’s parties, but it has a small square playground and that’s all you need. 

Three bags with snacks and cup noodles are forgotten on the bench. Half of the goods lay scattered on the ground, but neither you or Rindou pay much attention to it. You probably haven’t even noticed it yet. Too busy laughing and enjoying yourself. 

It was - of course - your idea to stop by and play. Just for a little, you said, tugging Rindou by the sleeve of his black puffer. Inside the park it’s dark. The lit lamps here and there are the bonbori ones and while they already aren’t the brightest, the shadows of trees absorb whatever lights they illuminate. If Rindou wasn’t Rindou he would find this place creepy. The desertness of it due to the hour only intensifies the feeling. 

But you are happy before him as you sit on the swings swaying back and forth. You laugh loudly and when he drugs you by your waist to the roundabout you scream at him to set you free so loud people in houses nearby might think he wants to murder you. None calls the police though or comes outside so in your wail they might have heard merriness, the same Rindou did. They probably think it’s teenagers in love fooling around.

But you are not teenagers and you aren’t in love.  And that’s what you tell Rindou when you push him into the huge metal circle with holes in it. He does his best to imagine what child game this surrealistic installation serves, but nothing comes to mind. 

"Rindou, I am sorry," your whisper echoes inside the metal walls like an arrow. "I should have told you from the beginning."

"It's alright," he murmurs back instantly. It should be the other way around, you comforting him, but it is not.

"I just think I really, really, really love Ran, and that's why I couldn't tell you."

The confession sits heavy on both of you and the tension made of substantial marine ropes hangs around your necks. In the dark Rindou can’t see you, but he can imagine you playing with your fingers or biting your cheek. Too full of emotions and pregnant with spilled secrets. He knows you too well and you know him well too, so when he outstretches his arm and his hand falls into your, you both giggle. 

“Like I feel bad for not telling you, but I couldn’t help it. He is your brother. I was too shy to tell you. I still am.” 

"You aren't making any sense," he puffs, suddenly sounding a bit angry or maybe tired. Perhaps both. "One second you are declaring you love my brother, and then you say you are bashful about it. It doesn't make any sense." Your hold around his fingers tightens, and he throws his head back, leaning against the cold metal. It would be good to feel its bitter licks against his naked skin, to sober up, jolt back to you, away from his illusions and disappointments. But then, he thinks, even if you threw him into cold Antarctic waters, with your gentle hand in his, he could never be cold. That's why he softly adds, "And I've already told you. It's alright. No matter how I feel about it."

"And how do you feel about it, Rindou?" Instead of sounding bitter or disappointed or angry, you sound mellow and kind. You sound like everything you shouldn't. "I want to know."

When he speaks, it's not what you wanted to hear, but that's all he could say to you now. Or ever. "Ran is my brother, and if something happens, it's him I am going to choose. I want you to know that."

The last sentence is a regretful hum. Barely audible, but still evident. He clutches his eyes shut and holds his breath. What he said to you hurts him badly enough to have them closed forever and he supposes it’s painful for you too. He hopes it doesn’t hurt you as much as it does him. And he is glad it’s really dark in here so you can’t see his shattered heart. 

In an ideal world you’d run away from him or at least be angry. You really should be. He gave you all the reasons too. He desperately wishes for your fury so it eases his turmoils - so he can be mad at you too -  but it never comes. Instead, you fall in his arms and wrap your hands around his shoulders. You breathe him in and smile into his neck. This world, this version of you and him, and everything you are are too far from ideal.  He loves it too.  He loves you. 

“I know that. And I know that you know that it’s okay. I’ll never blame you for choosing Ran and I’ll never leave your side. It’s not even a choice, Rindou. He is literally your brother. Your other half and your only family.” 

“You feel like family too.” 

The walk back to their apartment is mostly silent. Hand in hand, you stroll through the dark alleys of Roppongi that you both know so well, each of you thinking about each other. But thoughts can’t hurt anymore. Not after that small significant moment in the kids playground. Rindou can’t exactly pinpoint what happened, but something did. Was it what you said? Was it what he said? Or perhaps it’s the hug or clasped hands that took the weight from his heart away and glued its torn pieces back together. 

And by the time you are actually inside the apartment, when everyone is already there and waiting for you, Rindou is calm and the part that constantly worried and kept him high on his toes is gone, he doesn’t even remember what it was like to live with it. It’s like he is another person, reborn and better. Still the same Rindou just maybe a tiny bit freer and the sparks in his eyes are shining with new light, new colour, not the absence of it. 

So, when you enter the apartment and you take your shoes off and Ran who meets you by the door notices blood stains on your white socks [a never ending battle between new shoes and dancers] and he scolds you for not telling him earlier that your feet hurt while scooping you away, Rindou doesn’t worry. Nor for your feet. Nor for the ease with which you follow his older brother to the bathroom. Instead, he joins Haruchiyo and Senju who are already there in the living room. Together, they sort out the food you got in the 7-Eleven. For the most part, it’s silent, the TV is off and the door to the bathroom remains open. Rindou can’t see you and neither can Haru or Senju, but they hear you just fine. They hear the water running down and how patiently Ran instructs you to put your feet with socks on in the warm water. He then explains you how they mother and later he himself used to do the same to Rindou when he was little and his new pair of shoes would hurt him so bad, blisters became bloody mess that stuck to fabric of his socks and unless you wanted little Rindou to scream and cry and tear the skin and meat off him, you’d need to soak his feet in the warm water. This way it won’t hurt at all and Ran, assures you, he never wants you to hurt at all. 

In the middle of this conversation Ran also points out that when Rindou was really small he always had socks with Super Mario print on them and if they were ruined for good, he would cry so hard, you’d think someone had died. To that Rindou rolls his eyes and Haru openly laughs, mouthing a silent really? And when Rindou nods, Haru laughs some more and shakes his head in pure amusement. If he or Senju catch on to something they don’t show it or maybe they knew all along, reading into sudden tenderness between you and Ran quicker than Rindou had. At this point, it’s all in the past. He doesn’t care. 

The indifference remains when Ran makes you take a shower and dresses you in his clothes. His brother stays the same and you despite looking too adorable in Ran’s old loose black t-shirt, too are the same you were before. You still bite your cheek and you still sit between Rindou and Haruchiyo, leaning your head against Haru’s shoulder. 

And yet, the stoic callousness Rindou has been experiencing through the whole evening, evaporates when Ran finds you sitting on the floor by the ceiling to floor window. The white letters that form actors and crew names flow inside the screen of their Panasonic Viera and the light in the room hasn’t been turned on yet. The boxes of instant ramen are left on the floor around the sofa and armchair. The air still smells like chicken and miso. Next to him Haru stretches in his place and yawns. Rindou is too exhausted - mentally and physically equally - but he doesn’t want to go to sleep yet. Today was different, but pleasant all the same. He doesn’t want this day to end. That’s why when Shion, who came along with Kakucho just after you were done with your shower, starts his usual post-movie banter about the hidden philosophy behind the story you just watched, Rindou happily joins, effortlessly lurking into the conversation. It’s then, in the middle of the heated argument that Rindou tries to justify his judging of the poor choice that the main character made in favour of her lover other than her career that he finally takes in consideration the vacant place to his left. He wanted to ask you what you think, what would’ve you done if you were to choose between your dream job and your boyfriend. 

But you aren’t beside him and Rindou hadn’t noticed when you disappeared or why. 

The confusion on his face must be evident because Kakucho who sits opposite him grins and with his chin points at something behind Rindou’s back. He doesn’t really need to turn his head and see for himself what’s going on. Kakucho’s happy mischievous eyes tell him all there’s to know. 

But he does turn and he does see you and Ran talking in low voices in front of the dark night and myriads of small lights of someone else’s lives. The whole room falls silent then and in this short pause Rindou remembers how you once told him that those windows are your favourite place to be in their apartment. 

It’s like you are alone in this wild wild world, but never lonely. Just how many people live in Tokyo. Isn’t it crazy we are part of them? Do you think they think about us too sometimes? 

You must be telling Ran exactly the same thing or something along those lines you shared with Rindou years ago. His eyes shift into two slits and he smiles at you. Softly. Fondly. Lovingly. His hand rises to your face, caressing it gently, thumbs ghosting over your jaw. The closing credits end and the TV blazes with white colour so bright it lights up the whole living room and bits of kitchen. But no one seems to care. Everyone watches Ran leaning into you and planting a kiss to your lips. It’s sweet and familiar. It holds something sacred that no one in the room even after witnessing it would understand. It’s beyond everyone. 

"You mean to tell me that when I asked for her number and Ran told me she’s seeing someone, that someone was him?" Fully confused, a cloud settles over Shion’s scrunched face. "What a fucking bastard. He should have just told me she was his."

At that, Kakucho laughs and shoves his elbow between Shion’s ribs, then winks at Rindou whose cheeks are now burning red. “Some things aren’t that easy to voice, Shi. Especially when it comes to love. It’s not like Ran would’ve come up to us for love advice. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Shion hums in agreement, still seemingly perplexed at the sudden revelation. It’s not clear whether he even understood Kakucho’s comment.

“And besides, you'd be a moron to think that Ran wasn’t seeing someone,” Kakucho adds, resting his head against the back of the love seat armchair. He closes his sly eyes and bites his lower lip to hide a smile.

“Why is that?” Shion asks, obviously believing that "the moron" comment was directed at him. He turns his head to the left, looking at Kakucho, who cracks his right eye open. The playful smirk is still on Kakucho's lips.

“Because when that little bimbo girl that Ran was going crazy about made a move on him in the club, he rejected her.”

“Which girl? When?” It's clear that Shion doesn't remember the incident, and neither do Rindou, Haruchiyo, or Senju. They all eagerly wait for Kakucho's explanation, but he remains silent.

The tease that he is, he only opens his mouth after finishing his can of Coca-Cola.

“I don’t remember her name, but I think it was written with the kanji for 'blue.' She kept mentioning it to Ran. Like, 'Don’t you think it’s pretty? Don’t you like it? You said you liked it before,'” it's evident that reminiscing about this is quite painful for Kakucho, and Rindou genuinely pities him. He hates Ran's fickleness. He hates Aoki Ogura even more, even if she was never one of the girls he slept with.

That it’s her Kakucho is  speaking about Rindou has no doubts whatsoever. 

“Oh, well. It’s not like Ran had ever liked a decent girl. They were always so fucking annoying. Remember the one that barged into the classroom for him to talk things out?” 

Down the memory lane they go, and Rindou barely listens to them anymore. There’s nothing new for him to hear. He too became a victim of Ran’s romantic encounters. [If you can call them as such, because besides sleeping once and never again, Ran and those girls had literally nothing going on]. 

“Our baby isn’t annoying,” eyes lidded from tiredness Haruchiyo whines, invisibly tugging Rindou by the hair out from his thoughts. Kakucho and Shion too turn at him, slight surprise on their face and Haruchiyo groans seemingly disturbed that he would need to elaborate. “My baby isn’t annoying or something. She is the best and Ran actually really really really likes her. So don’t say he never liked a decent girl, cause my baby is the best and Ran loves her very much.” 

The trip in Haruchiyo words is intentional and that’s how everyone knows he is being sincere. No one argues and Rindou pats his shoulder, agreeing. 

You are the very best. 

And, yes, his brother likes you a lot. Loves, even. 

xviii.

This January is awfully rainy and Haruchiyo thinks it fucking sucks. 

Not because of the dampness and the cold, but because he can’t light a cigarette outside on the campus and instead needs to smoke in the clamped smelly toilets. Observing the rain, he actually likes it since he’s been a little kid, from the circled window adds little to the pleasure of inhaling the fog into his lungs. 

At this point he might as well give up on smoking. 

In slow deliberate motions he pulls the pack out of his trousers and cracks it open counting the cigarettes. He places a bet that if it’s more than seven he won’t give up and if it’s less than that then maybe his smoker habit will end now. 

Eleven cigarettes look back at him and he smiles, kisses the pack and slips it back into the pocket. 

Today is his lucky day. 

“Knew I’d find you in here.” Across the bathroom scrawls a harsh slap of the door and Rindou barges in. His blonde hair disheveled and wet from the rain. He doesn’t need to tell him that he’s been outside a mere second ago. There’s a grave coldness from his damp coat and his heart. Haruchiyo squints his eyes and decides, almost certain, that you two haven’t talked yet. 

“I assume you haven’t talked yet,” as always straightforward Haruchiyo doesn’t wait for Rindou to bring up the topic. 

He dives in without a single pint of hesitation. He cocks his head and laughs when Rindou shakes his head an affirmative ‘no’. 

In between those two weeks you haven’t spoken with one another, it seems like nothing much really changed. When it comes to you Rindou still loses his ability to speak coherently. He still lowers his head down and looks at the floor. This time he also steals a cigarette from Haruchiyo’s “Hope”. The irony in seeing Rindou clutching to a literal hope in his hands would be funny, if this irony wasn’t a suffocating pool of your tears and sour expression.  

So he doesn’t laugh. Haruchiyo suffocates. 

For just a little while he needs to talk about something else and that’s why he recites to Rindou who now sits on the low windowsill about the bet he had earlier with the cigarettes. Any other day, they would laugh at it so hard and Rindou would tease him so badly, the back of their throats would hurt them from saying too much and talking too loudly. But not now. 

Now Rindou just cracks a smirk and crashes the cigarette between his fingers. The white paper snapping in two. 

Then, he is back to you. [Like always.]

“Is she alright?” Is all he asks. 

Any other day Haruchiyo would tease him, but not today. Not now when his best friend is grayer than the clouds outside in the sky. 

“Caught her crying yesterday while she was making us tonkatsu. Said she’s fine and it’s just onion.” 

“There wasn’t any onion?” 

“Bingo,” Haruchiyo puts the cigarette out, pressing its flame against the white wall. There’s quite a few fading black spots of the same size around the surface indicating he’s been here before. 

“I miss her,” the confession slips out of Rindou’s mouth effortlessly and easily, but the dead weight in his chest doesn’t lessen. It hurts all the same. “I can’t talk to her though. I mean I am totally on Ran’s side. How could she believe her out of all people? I swear if that little bitch told me she fucked Ran I would’ve never believer her.” 

And that’s a lie and they both know it. 

“She haven’t told her she fucked Ran. She’s been whispering about it with Misa when my baby was there practising. She made sure she heard that and then she added he called her little love while he was balls deep inside her. Of course it hurt. Fictional or not.” 

Rindou sighs, banging his head against the window, drops of rain chaotically sliding down. “No doubt, but Ran told me nothing of the sort happened. Besides, he hasn't seen Aoki in a while. Ran might be Ran, but this is not a thing he would do.” “Then, he should’ve explained himself properly,” Haruchiyo retorts, his smart eyes peering into Rindou. “One text and no visits screams to me as a lack of interest.” “He is just too prideful and it’s not like it’s easy on him too. All he does is sleep, eating and beating the shit out of me. Yesterday he snapped because I put soya sauce in the fridge and apparently you don’t store it there. There’s a cupboard for it,” the mocking comes out perfectly and Haruchiyo cracks a smile. He spots a light purple colour he hasn’t noticed before on Rindou's cheek and presses his lip into the thin line. Smile evaporating from his face. Again, it’s gloomy. “You know, Haru, I might try to talk to her on the day of the showcase. I am quite positive Ran might come around by then too. We can go celebrate it at Shabuan then. Yeah. That’s what we do.” Your showcase is five days from now and Haruchiyo doubts much will change and yet he hopes. And so he nods, gathers his things from the floor and hugging Rindou by the shoulders leads him to the dining hall. After smoking he is always hungry. 

Just a day before your grand performance Haruchiyo stops by your apartment and spends the night. 

All you do is talk and it’s light and enjoyable and for the first time this month his heart stings a pretty pain. And that’s why, desping knowing, it’s wrong and the time is not right [but when is it right?] he mentions that Rindou is coming tomorrow to see you. 

The brief glint of joy that lights up your eyes doesn’t escape him. But it’s there for a mere second and then you are you again. Without Rindou or Ran in your life. 

“Tell him to stay in the back then. He would distract me with his stupid face and I want everything to go smoothly tomorrow,” he knows you are only half joking and he makes a point to actually hold Rindou at the back. But then it won’t do any good, because you’ll stumble upon him in the crowd anyway. You two could never escape each other and Haruchiyo feels slightly jealous. Then, you add, in a whisper. “It might be my last year at the university after all.” 

It’s a slip up on your side because your eyes go wide and you stare at him and then hurriedly you sprint to the bathroom and stay there for seventeen minutes and when you come out you say you are going to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day after all. 

Patient and sweet, Haruchiyo nods and takes a step forward, lurching you into a big hug. He kisses the crown of your head and feels you tremble in his arms. You might think he is someone else, but he is not, and he leans back, looking at you with a genuine kind smile that screams at you you are home and whatever you do I’m right here. 

He knows he doesn’t need to say anything and yet he does. “Whatever you do or say it’s right to me. If you want to drop out then be it. If you want to switch majors or change universities be it. Mhm? Now, go rest and do your best tomorrow. I'll be right there and so will be Rin.” 

You nod at him and disappear to your bedroom. Back in time, you would always share the bed, but today there’s a pillow and a blanket on the sofa and it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been with Ran and yet you still have his claim over you. 

Hands on his tummy Haruchiyo lies on your sofa. Green plant with wide leaves tickles his feet and he stands up to move it aside. He wonders if even one night Ran spent on his couch and he laughs to himself at this absurd thought. 

Of course not. Ran’s place is by your side. Body is made of muscles, flesh and skin, Haruchiyo thinks, blood and bones. Hair and nails. 

But not yours. 

Yours is made of Ran touches and his presence. His sweet words and loving stares. 

It probably eats you alive on the nights when he is not with you. On those days you are restless and tired and lonely and your body is burning and your mind is tortured. On those days you think, you think, you think and there’s no end to it. No salvation and no easiness. No ice pressed to the wound. Nothing. Just you and black absence of Ran and what he is. 

Today is such a day and it hurts you and Haruchiyo drowns in your pain as nothing more exists in your small apartment in Nippori. 

On the day of the showcase it’s snowing. The world is white and very beautiful. 

Despite it being awfully cold Haruchiyo is only wearing a thin leather jacket Senju got him for his eighteenth birthday years ago. It’s his favourite. Under it is a thick navy sweater. This too is a gift, but from you. A spontaneous one. You said to him you got it because it reminded you of him. How and why you associated it with him is a mystery. He never asked you. But he likes it no less than the leather jacket. 

He is wearing them both today. 

When Rindou comes in, cheeks red from cold and hair messy from running down the hall, he is afraid he missed your performance. 

“The road was so fucking slippery and Ran wasn’t home so I used my Kawasaki to get here,” Rindou explains in a hushed whisper. 

“Does Ran know today is the showcase day?” 

Before replying, Rindou rolls his eyes. The question is a bit stupid, Haruchiyo agrees. Ran knows everything about you. “Of course he does. And I told him about the dinner too, but he hasn’t said a thing back which is a good sign. He might actually come. I was hoping he would be here already, but I guess you haven’t seen him.” 

Haruchiyo shakes his head. He hasn’t seen Ran here and when he parked his own Kawasaki - a model just below Rindou’s -  he didn't see Ran’s car everywhere. Not that he looked specifically for it so it might be that he just hadn’t noticed it. 

The conversation between them is cut short, because you appear on the stage. There’s no music yet. Just a red draped curtain behind you and a circle of light in which you stand. All eyes are on you, but it seems like no one notices the slight shaking of your right hand that is raised in the air. Nor do they see your wobbly legs. 

The music plays and you start to dance. This time, unlike last year, you don’t have a costume on. It’s your usual practising attire that you wear. A leotard and shorts. And Haruchiyo wonders if it’s meant to be that way. He squints his eyes and tries to convey what your dance is about, but he can’t understand a thing. It confuses him because never before did that ever happen. 

Haruchiyo blinks and turns to Rindou. [He believes Rindou always understood you better. Which isn’t true at all. He just tries harder.]

“What the fuck is going on?” Is all he says. 

“She’s hurting. Physically. Something is hurting her, but… It’s her feet. Shit! Haru, we need to stop it. She’s hurting herself.” 

The broken clock inside Haruchiyo clicks and all the gears fall into their right place. For once he gets it. The strange outfit, the mannerism, the simplicity of it all and the absence of everything. The blood on your feet and wet stains you leave after yourself. 

In the second row someone is sick. The small girlish voice shouts something that couldn't be heard under the weight of your performance. No one can tear their eyes away from you and even Rindou who was so eager to help you stays frozen to the place. 

Cruelty and violence are always marvelling. It’s in their ugly beauty that people find themselves. 

It ends as quickly as it started. 

The girl from the second row marshes through the open door to the safety of the halls and Haruchiyo recognizes in her Aoki Ogura. He notices her crying red face, but does nothing to stop her. There’s guilt evident in her scared eyes and Haruchiyo hopes she suffocates in it. The last thing he hears from her is her throwing up somewhere down the corridor. He wonders if she’s embarrassed. For what she did to you and for the pool of acid that somebody will clear up for her lately. 

The light is on and the music is off when you take your dance shoes off and shake them in the air. The broken glass and razors waterfall to the floor and you smile widely. Almost insanely. Your mouth quivers as if you want to say something, but at last you don’t. You place your shoes soaked with blood in the middle of the stage and bow. Then you leave. Then Rindou takes off and latches himself onto the dean of the Univercity. His beige coat covers them both as he strikes the old man in the face. Once. Twice. Thrice. No one is stopping him. 

Everyone is still staring at your shoes. 

The night is dark and the snow is still falling when Haruchiyo finds you splayed out on the asphalt in the middle of the parking lot. 

For a mere moment he stops and he feels like the whole world stops too. It’s silent as he paints the image of you laying on the ground with a thin white veil hugging your body that reminds him too much of cerements. 

The image is sorrowful and it’s beautiful. Like you, this night and bloody snow. 

Your wounds are still open and bleeding. 

“What on Earth were you thinking?” As always Haruchiyo isn’t harsh or reprimanding you.

He isn’t Rindou to scold you for your stupidities and he isn’t Ran to worry about you more than he needs to just because you are you. Haruchiyo loves you in a special way where he doesn’t try much, but gives you everything anyway. 

“I just wanted them to see what I am,” you utter, cracking your eyes open. “Just wanted them to know I am enough. No glass or razors can stop me.” There’s something else you aren’t saying, but Haruchiyo knows what it is already. He kneels down to you and a smile on his face matches yours. Tired, but triumphant. 

“Art is a beautiful form of expression, isn’t it?” The question is rhetoric and he isn’t expecting you to answer him so he takes a deep breath and takes your hand in his. A mere reassurance and everything beyond it. “Now, let’s get you to the hospital. Gotta make sure you are okay.” ‘Thank you, Haru.” 

“Anytime, love.” The night is dark and beautiful and full of light that shines right through you and those you care about. 

Since early childhood Haruchiyo hated hospitals. 

He hated the lethargic smell, the richness of white colour everywhere and apologetic gazes of the stuff. Blunt himself he couldn’t stand the half-said truth and insincere apologies. He avoided hospitals like plague. And maybe if Rindou wasn’t so occupied with getting his anger out on the dean, he wouldn’t have taken you there himself, instead handing this task to Rindou. 

But here he is. An hour later with you submitted and Rindou in the emergency care getting his broken nose checked. Doctors said he might need a cast. Haruchiyo can barely picture Rindou with a white cast across his face, but he laughs nonetheless. He doubts it will cut the girls off Rindou though. The last time he got into a fight - on your behalf again - and had bruises all over his face, every single girl at university had fallen in love with him. Thus, if they weren’t in love with him before. 

Haitani curse. 

So, Haruchiyo really really really doubts the cast will scare anyone. 

More time passes and then Rindou joins him in the waiting area. Without cast, but with a plaster across his handsome face. Haruchiyo grins at the sight and Rindou elbows him between his ribs. Not hard. Playfully. 

All the anger gone from his being. 

As they wait for the news on your condition they stay silent. Each thinking of you, but probably in very different contexts. It’s only fair as you were never the same for them. Stagnancy and constancy were never your forte. You are the best at evolving, moving and… dancing. 

The doctor leads them both to your appointed room. He is a handsome male in his early thirties and he is very to the point when he says that you will be okay and that they cleaned your wounds and bandaged them and that you will need to do the same procedure for at least two weeks until you are fully healed. Some cuts were too deep, he mentions, if they weren’t it wouldn’t take so long. He mentions that you also needed stitches on your left sole, but it’s too nothing to worry about and you don’t need to get them taken off at the hospital, they will dissolve with time. 

He tells all that under three minutes that it takes him to guide boys to your room. He opens the door and hastily adds that today you will need to stay here, but tomorrow you can probably go home. Probably. If the blood that they drew from you is good and there’s no infections. 

The chances for that are low. Don’t worry. And with that he is gone. 

On the huge medical bed with both your bandaged feet poking out of the thick duvet you look almost comical. Haruchiyo wants to say just that, but notices how your eyes widen and mouth hangs open and then your arms are open, inviting Rindou for a hug. In his hold you cry. 

“I am so sorry,” you repeat again and again. 

It’s a loud mantra, a plea, and Haruchiyo isn’t that sure it’s intended solely to Rindou.

“You shouldn’t be. It’s okay. I am glad you are okay. I am so fucking glad you are fine.” But Rindou can’t peel himself off you and Haruchiyo understands why. He understands why your fingers are in his blonde hair and why your tears salten his cheek; why you can’t pull yourself away from his comfort.  

He doesn’t interrupt. He lets you soak in Rindou and lets Rindou enjoy the feeling of your warm skin. The sight is quite usual to him - you and Rindou, and Haruchiyo to have always been very touchy among each other - but there’s something new, something raw and therefore incredibly sincere between your bodies that attracts his attention. 

He feels like he is intruding so he turns away and walks to the window. The snow is still falling and the night is quite dark, but in the parking lot he can see Ran’s white Honda that stands proudly under the light of the streetlamp and his mouth stretches into a knowing smile. Haruchiyo closes his eyes thinking that what were the odds of your windows facing the fucking parking lot.

Life, it seems, is full of sweet coincidences and their outcomes.

“Honestly, I was half expecting my brother to get expelled at one point, but you, love? Never.” 

Ran’s voice is sweet with just a tinge of mocking to it. Only he can speak like that. Haruchiyo is a firm believer no one in the whole world can insult you and charm you at the same time as well as Ran can. 

And then it’s you and Haruchiyo doesn’t need to turn around and open his eyes to see how you slowly pull away from Rindou. How you close off for a second, eyes going wide as if you witnessed the most vile horror. How your lips tremble and how your whole body melts. How you pick yourself up and notice the soft gaze that Ran reserves only for those he loves. How he looks at you and no one else. 

How you understand once again what it means and how you fall into Ran again. How you love him and how he loves you. 

Love is yet a foreign concept to Haruchiyo and he hates hospitals, but he thinks he understands. 

He doesn’t need to see to feel it all. 

“I was dropping out anyway,” you confess. “What’s in the bag?” 

“Purin daifuku, those pizza chips, Pocky and soda.” 

“You didn’t bring anything for us?” If Rindou tries to hide the fact that he is a bit offended, he does it poorly. 

“No, I didn’t. You can’t stay here for the night anyway.” Ran says in his usual calm tone. Then he addresses you. “I asked if I could take you home today, but they told me we need to wait for the results till morning. Stupid if you’d ask me. But I’ll keep you company. You both can go now.” 

Under different circumstances Haruchiyo would have argued with Ran. Just for the sake of it. But right now, when he turns around and sees Ran sitting on your bed, his long hair down, head resting against yours as he holds both of your hands in his, all the words die in his throat. 

But not Rindou’s. His best friend seems agitated. “What do you mean? Why can’t we stay and you can?” “Only close family and such can stay with a patient overnight. If I were you I wouldn’t be worried about that, but about an ugly bruise that’s gonna appear on your face tomorrow. You better go home and apply that Kobayashi cream we have. Works like a miracle.” 

“Since when are you her close family?” Deliberately Rindou ignores Ran’s warnings, latching onto what he wants to know. “Okay. Let’s go, Rin.” Haruchiyo grabs Rindou by his elbow and pulls him towards the door. “We’ll see you both tomorrow.”

When Haruchiyo closes the door behind him he catches the last glimpse of you and Ran. For a split moment that will forever float between those walls of the patient room, he sees Ran leaning closer to you. He watches as his fingers brush across your jaw and your breath hitch. Ran smiles at you and his smile is so gentle, so loving, so comforting and reassuring. Haruchiyo understands why you were hurting so much when Ran wasn’t with you. He finally understands the longing. 

And yet, the smile is nothing compared to the way he looks at you. The pure raw affection he reserves just for you, that was never and will never be spent on anybody else, excludes Haruchiyo fastly and sharply. He is not needed there. No one is. 

He closes the door and sighs. Maybe hospitals aren't that awful after all. 

The thin paper doesn’t do much to prevent their asses from freezing. It was Rindou’s idea - a bad one - to lay down a thick layer of newspaper he spotted in the reception room on the parapet so they could sit on it and share a cigarette before deciding what to do next. Now it got all soggy from the snow and brought more wetness. It was like sitting in a dirty puddle. 

But the view from here was quite serene and a cigarette pleasantly burnt their throats so none of them moved. Before them was a highway and each passing car passed so fast from where they were it looked like it flew in the air. Their tires high in the sky, the lights guiding beacons. It reminded Haruchiyo of a sci-fi movie Takeomi once rented at a DVD store near their old flat. Title and plot of it was completely forgotten, but finding himself in a similar scenery brought back the unusual feeling of childish excitement. Something new was before them and Haruchiyo couldn’t wait for it. 

“Don’t you feel a bit sad?” Asked Rindou breaking the silence. 

Haruchiyo expected this question and even though he was thinking of the perfect answer for it for a while nothing right came to his head. Maybe there’s questions and problems that will never be solved and maybe that’s okay. Maybe not everything needs to be perfectly in order. 

“Don’t we always feel a bit sad?” The cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth Haruchiyo turned around and looked at his best friend. “Wouldn’t it be a boring plain world if we were happy all the time?” Rindou shrugs. Between the snowflakes and lights from the hospital windows he looks exceptionally beautiful. “I wouldn’t mind being happy all the time.”

“You only think so, Rin. And anyway it’s not like she’s gone. She’s still our best friend and will always be this. You were stupid to not talk to her. Now that you finally made up I can finally tell you that.” 

Haruchiyo laughs. His laugh is dry, but sincere. The bark he produces would suit a gangster way more than it suits him now, but maybe under the layer of time and all possible varieties that is our life somewhere out there he is one. 

Everything is possible and nothing is sure. 

“And don’t you think Ran always kinda liked her? I thought that it might be because she’s your best friend that he is attentive to her, but now that I am thinking about it I am not really sure.” 

Rindou takes off his fogged up glasses and reaches Haruchiyo to wipe them with the sweater you bought. He sighs. “Well, yeah. I mean Ran isn't a douchebag to other girls, but he was extra nice with her. I wonder when he understood it. She told me they spent a lot of time together during summer. So it probably happened then.”

“Probably.” Not that it matters now, Haruchiyo wants to add, but doesn’t. Instead, he asks. “What are you gonna do now that you got expelled?” 

“I am going to run a nightclub. Make my fucking dream come true. Ran said we have enough money to rent a decent place in Roppongi. In a couple of years if everything goes alright we can buy it and make it truly ours. What do you think she’s gonna do?” The wind blows south and snow stops falling. Everything seems still. Somewhere behind in the building is you and Ran. Probably talking or kissing. It doesn’t matter since you have each other. And Haruchiyo has Rindou. And to be honest, you are never truly alone. There’s always someone with you or within you. Present now or in the past. 

Wickedly Haruchiyo smiles and stands up from the parapet. His pants are thoroughly soaked, but he is warm. Despite everything, today is a good day. “Don’t you know? She’s gonna look out for the kid her and Ran made a couple of months ago.” Haruchiyo watches Rindou’s face fall and he laughs, licking his lips. “I am kidding. Or not really. Saw a test in her bathroom when I stayed over and she mentioned dropping out to me. Said she was sick of dancing. Don’t make such a face, Rin!” Haruchiyo laughs again and again and then Rindou laughs too. “We can think about this in the morning… Now don’t you want to eat something? I am fucking starving.” “Ramen or soba?” “Soba.” “Well, soba it is then. Let’s go.” Their motorcycles roar a long time after they are gone, but the smell of youth they carried never fades away. 

It stays forever. 

[yannisrandomstuff]

Submissive gabriel (both) 😩?

🤘😭

(I'll try and finish this, I legit just copy and paste this from my notes to tumblr it took a lot of time jesus)

Bros The type..

TW: NSFW, submissive Angel Gabriel and dom-sub Alternate Gabriel , MDNI please keep scrolling if you aren't comfortable with this

Angel Gabriel

Loves to flirt but manages to be the one that was frustrated in the end

Too shy

Bros the type who doesn't have any experience at all (haha virgin)

He knows and is aware on what sex is but doesn't really have an experience with it

Tells you to stop but wants you to continue

Tells you how much he loves you nom stop while you grind your hips on top of him

"ooOoh that's r-right please k-ugh-keep mooving~"

Hands grips on your waist really hard

Loud asf

Needy

Begs too much

He's the type when he's close to releasing he cries begging you to go on faster

He really likes it when the both of cum together

Cockwarming him

Dom-bottom

Even tho he's a bottom he likes things in his own way he wants to be in control while him being under you or you on top of him (*eye brow go up and down* hindi kona kaya)

Bottom asf but can be a top too (secretly likes to get dominated)

Likes it when you give him head

Loves squeezing you (your chest, waist, thighs, etc.)

In bed he's your servant, he'll do anything

Even tho he's a bottom he likes to be the one doing the after care for you

Really good at doing aftercare

Praise this man

6.7 inch (gahagahahaaNsksksks tangina)

Giving > receiving

"..*huff* please let me...let me have moree.."

B0ndage

Breeding while hes in the bottom

Mark him and he will go crazy

High ass pitched voice

Is a switch but prefers to be a bottom

Uses his wings to warm you up

Alternate Gabriel

He's the type that he will pleasure you using his long ass tounge until you squirm and squeeze his face between your thighs

Knows and very aware what sex is and really likes to do it

He had some experience in the past with his past lovers

Degrades you but praise you afterwards or the other way around (depends on his mood)

"You're doing good my lamb.. You're taking me in so well. Look at that tiny hole. Such a slut"

Deep DEEP thrust either he's the bottom (you riding him) or he's the top

Matingpress is his best and favorite position

Knows how to use his fingers too well

Toys and vibrator? Nah his tounge can do the job

Man can go for hours

"Oh! Haha! You think we're done yet?" Said while he got up, we are just getting started that was just a warm up, be good for me now will you, you can take this just a little more while"

This man has a breeding kink

Loves really loves eating you out

Cock warming

Will warm you up with his wings while you are on top of him

8.7 inch

Strict top when frustrated

Really flustered when pleasured

Loves massaging your chest while you get to ride him

Whenever you tease him he just whines and whines

Grunts so many grunts when he's close

A total brat

He loves it when you beg for him to move his hips upward while you ride him

Sometimes will give you a food with aphrodisiac in it

Any time, any where. (Whenever he feels like it)

Marks all over your thighs and abdomen

Biting kink

Also very good at after care will just tease you tho

My cat force me to do this

[mariistyping]

The Glamorous Tale of the Soul King

(art and also story prompt by @elizabeths-storytime)

Summary: Luffy, worn out but excited from the days events, rallies the crew on the deck and asks Brook to tell them a story. As the crew’s resident showman he spins a tale of the difference between being human and being a skeleton.

Word count: 1146 words

Genre: fluff (?) with some angst thrown in because I can’t help it.

Tags/TW: obviously talks about brook's death. A little sadness tinged with skeletal puns.

((Note: I love brook 🥹 when I saw their post about this it broke me and I thought. What better way to start actually writing on here again. I hope you enjoy))

As the thrilling battle winds to a close, the straw hat crew follows Luffy as he laughs in the direction of the thousand sunny. The sun setting over the horizon set the perfect backdrop for another hard earned victory for the crew. As the last member graced the deck of the beloved ship, Sanji calls out loudly.

“Someone start a fire while I start dinner!” He said to no one in particular. The crew set off in various directions to perform tasks before the set off back into the waters of the new world to find their next resting place. Brook walked over to start the fire like Sanji asked, and Usopp followed behind him to help. The two worked in silence until the fire roared bright and they both sat back and sighed.

“Rough day out there huh?” Usopp said with a slight groan. Brook nods back at the man. “My bones are exhausted. All I want to do is close my eyes…” he paused for a moment before following up with “if I had any eyes!” Earning a boisterous laugh from himself while Usopp groaned again, a small smile playing on his lips.

The crew all meandered over to the fire as they finished up their tasks, the conversations growing into a collective small roar as the men and women gathered around the fire. Brook brought out his violin a soft grin on his mouth as a skeletal finger ran over the chipped wood. Many memories were made on this instrument. If it could talk the stories it would tell could hush bars filled with the rowdiest pirates. Brook sighed to himself in pleasant memories as he started up his favorite song.

“Yooooo yooo ho ho. Yooooo yooo ho ho~”

The skeleton man stood up and pranced around the group as he continued to play the song, gathering loud cheers and whoops as he played louder and more carefree. The sounds of the straw hat pirates bring forth still shot memories in his mind of his crew from long ago. As much as he loved the straw hats, he did mourn the way his fingers sounded when he still had human flesh. The strings sounded nasal, high pitched without the hard earned calluses of a flesh and blood musician. His playing faltered for just a second as his thoughts ran wild, but it was enough for Luffy to notice the off key note.

As Luffy sat in the spot next to where Brook was once sat, he eyed the skeleton quickly. He couldn’t help but crack a smile a the man’s enthusiasm as he bounced around, at times bouncing on one foot, playing his violin. To Luffy it was the greatest sound in the world because Brook was his musician.

As he finished up the song and the crew cheered, everyone dispersed into their own conversations filled with laughter and excitement. Brook took his seat back, a somber look on his face as he took a drink from the glass Sanji had placed before him.

“What’s up?” He heard a young, husky voice ask him. As he turned he was instantly greeted by the Luffy’s head extended to where he could look the man in the eye sockets without ever leaving his seat. Brook tried to feign innocence in the face of the young captain, attempting to wave him off.

“Oh nothing Luffy. Just memories of a bygone era lurking up on me.” The skeleton laughed mirthlessly, no smile to be seen on the bottom half of his skull. Luffy cocked his brow and patted a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Come on Brook. Tell me why you’re so sad!” The captain clapped his hand a few times before sitting up in his seat hushing the rest of the crew. Luffy knew that Brook had a deeper story to tell and he wanted to hear it clearly.

Brook, suddenly aware of all the eyes on him, felt what would be heat run up to his face. That was the worst part about being dead, he thought. He could still imagine the sensations of emotions in his bones, but he couldn’t actually felt them. He shook off the thought and looked around grateful no one could tell he was blushing.

“Ok. Ok..”

~over 50 years ago~

As Brook walked out onto the deck of the ship he shared with the rest of the crew of the Rumbar Pirates, the salty sea air encircled him in a warm summer breeze. He breathed in the smell of the ocean and sighed as he felt the sun shine down on his tanned skin. He held his violin in one hand, and as he woke up a little bit more, he started playing a joyful melody comprised of his favorite song. As his calloused fingers masterfully picked over the chipped strings he felt truly at peace, the music washing a soothing glow over the entire area.

His musical ramblings spurred his crew mates from their various places on the boat and they joined him, a rally of singing, dancing, and drinking, the exertion causing red cheeks and boisterous laughter. The crew in that moment really was a picturesque view of brotherhood and friendship.

Then the accident happened.

Brook remembers waking up cold and alone, his fingers only bones. He would’ve cried had his body been able to produce tears. He missed how his skin felt in the sun, how his sweat rolled down his cheek, and how his fingers picked gently and carefully over the strings of his now ancient instrument.

Every night Brook played his favorite song to put himself to sleep, but instead of the feelings of joy and camaraderie he now only heard melancholy and remorse as he plucked his boned fingers against the weathered strings of the violin. His fingers slipped too often to form a coherent song and the notes were too different for him to like anyways. At least his voice still worked.

~present~

As Brook spun his melancholy tale, the crew had varied reactions ranging from understanding to crying. Brook paused and looked at the faces of his new crew, and for a brief second he thought he could see the faces from long ago. He blinked and they were gone again, but as his current friends faces returned to view he could help but feel a strong sense of love.

While his old crew’s time had passed, he still had his, and the new bonds he had made would stand by his side like the bonds of the Rumbar Pirates once did.

“I thought once that these boney fingers of mine would never make another soul happy again.” He said stretching out his fingers in front of him. “I have to say you guys made me hear my notes differently again.”

He smiled a boney smile. “You put the soul back in the king.”

[writingreadinglurkingandsmirking]

But I Shine So Bright - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Dear Reader Duology: Part 1, Part 2

Summary: You wake up hungover from the previous night’s party, and are struck with the realization of the conversation you’d had with Rafe prior. You decide that, yes, you should actually have that conversation with him sober like he’d suggested. So, that’s what you two do. Word Count: 5.1k+ TWs/CWs: Adult/profane language, she/her pronouns used for reader, brief descriptions of a hangover, OOC Rafe in that he's only a little crazy and is actually willing to admit he was wrong, unrealistically fast relationship re-establishment, Rafe still wants to kill that guy lol, bad example of a healthy relationship but hi this is Rafe be so for real here, Rafe obviously has pretty privilege Note: Yeah so I just decided to do the part 2 lmao so here she is. And now it has me thinking Thoughts about doing more Dear Reader inspired fics for OBX babes...like a Dear Reader duology collection sounds like a fun little project hehehe

Waking up was more painful than you’d anticipated. When you’d gone out, you never intended to get that drunk. Decidedly, you’d drank more than you had in a long while. A stupid choice all around, but especially stupid considering you didn’t have the built-in protection of…him anymore. Your girlfriends had dutifully tried to slow you down, but you didn’t listen to them.

Fuck’s sake, even his friends had tried to stop you. To be fair, they’d been more successful. Yes, the first memory you woke up to was Topper and Kelce, your ex-boyfriend’s best friends, stopping you from doing a fucking keg stand. And that was just something special considering you knew damn well that you’d been wearing a skirt with nothing underneath. So clearly your night had been just full of good choices.

“God,” you groaned, rolling over on your side. Your eyes landed on a water bottle on the side of your bed. You blinked once, twice, a third time, and then lurched up into a sitting position. “Shit.” While the sudden movement made you nauseous for a moment, you managed to resist the urge to vomit. You scrambled for your phone. It was noon already. Fuck. You saw that a group chat with your friends had blown up and you had a slew of other texts.

Where the hell did you go?

Why did Topper come tell us that fucking RAFE took you home??

Hello?? Girl what the hell are you thinking?

You better call us and tell us that you’re safe.

Dude you better not fucking sleep with him I swear to God I am SO serious.

Be like Dua Lipa and remember the new rules bitch.

Be safe I swear to GOD bestie I’ll fuck you up if you get hurt.

If you fuck him you better not let him hit raw.

BYE don’t let him hit AT ALL.

“Shit,” you hissed.

You’d thought you’d had a dream that Rafe had been the one taking care of you. A pleasant dream minus the blubbering you’d been doing. But no. It turns out you actually had been blubbering on him. On the ex who left you for no reason and with no discernible guilt outwardly shown. This just had to be a joke. It had to be. The pit in your stomach wasn’t from the aggressive hangover, it was literally just the dread that had an iron grip on you. Looking down at your phone again, you saw a text from Kelce of all fucking people too.

Lmao I know you’re gonna be hurting this morning but let me or Top know if Rafe did anything stupid yesterday and we’ll beat the shit out of him fr.

You couldn’t help but let out a high-pitched, borderline hysterical laugh at the very idea. You run a hand down your face, grateful that Rafe had forced you to take the makeup off the night before. You felt sick and awful and still somehow better than you had before. It was pathetic somehow, on some level, that spending even an hour with Rafe had the ability to make you feel so much better and so much worse all at once. So, with trembling hands, you made a move to answer.

First, to your friends.

Not yall acting like you don’t have my location. I got home safe. Nothing happened fuck off.

You then immediately silenced the group chat so you wouldn’t have to deal with it. You looked at Kelce’s and cringed, letting your fingers move.

Yeah definitely got a hellish hungover. Thanks for keeping me from doing a keg stand like a dumbass last night btw? Idk what the fuck that was about. And nah, Rafe didn’t do anything. Even if he did you wouldn’t win that fight, Kelce, be so fr lol.

The response from him came quickly.

Ah, she lives. Well, you didn’t choke on your vomit so that’s good. And hurtful, I could definitely beat him.

You rolled your eyes.

Yeah, maybe if he were tied to a chair bro. But fr, thank you for helping me out. Thank Top too for me btw.

The response took longer this time. And was punctuated by an immediate follow-up.

Course. I’ll let him know. You’re still our friend. We weren’t gonna let you get that messed up.

You should talk to your boy though. Let him know you’re good. Pretty sure he’s worried about you.

You bit your lip. Instead of replying, you instead closed that text thread and looked back to the rest of your messages. But, you were thrown for a loop when you saw Rafe’s name appearing at the top, texting you just now. You weren’t proud of it, but you had to throw yourself from your bed and empty your stomach. You blamed the hangover, but you also knew that the anxiety of facing him after the night before was nerve-wracking enough to be the culprit alone.

Once you finally cleaned yourself up, you felt a bit more human again. Only then did you return to your phone. You stared at it for a few minutes before even daring to pick it up. Then, you stared at your background - still a picture of you and Rafe, one where his smile was so big from a laugh that it crinkled the corners of his eyes and you had buried your face in his neck while also laughing. You hated that you hadn’t changed it yet, but every single time you tried to, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the phone down again.

Sighing, you reached over and grabbed the water bottle he had left you. Then you noticed he’d also left out some meds for you to take. Not letting yourself think about it or the way it turned your stomach, you took the pills and drank the water completely before letting yourself even think about your phone again. At least that was the lie you spun yourself, ignoring the way that the stupid piece of technology wove through every thought and every damn breath you took.

In an effort to pretend like that wasn’t true, you walked down to your kitchen and got a Liquid I.V. knowing damn well that Rafe would be telling you to if he were here. And, yeah, even now, the little things he did to show he cared still stuck to your bones. You hated it. Or, at least you hated that he wasn’t actually here. Some days it was hard to tell which was true and which was the lie. You wanted him, you didn’t, you wanted him, you didn’t. You definitely did—that was the truth and you knew it.

Steeling yourself, you eventually went back upstairs and picked your phone back up. Clicking Rafe’s name, you were fully prepared to ignore whatever the message was like you knew you should if you were going to get over him. But somehow, you could feel the familiar love and affection punching you in the gut.

Take the pills I left. Drink some liquid iv or whatever if you have it. Don’t forget to eat.

You inhaled shakily, thinking if you should even respond or not, worrying at your lip and tapping your fingers anxiously against your knee. But, as you did, another text came through from him.

Lmk if you need anything.

Short, sweet, and to the point.

You, your brain supplied unhelpfully. I just fucking need you.

You thought about the night before. About the words he said. About the stark honesty in his voice that you hadn’t heard in months from him. You thought about the simple promise he made. He said that you could talk about it when you were sober if you still wanted to. Did you want to? Yes. So, before you could talk yourself out of it, you clicked his contact to call him and brought the phone to your ear.

“You okay?” were the words that Rafe greeted you with. Not hello. Just concern.

“I…yeah. I’m fine,” you said when your brain finally caught up with you again. “I…thanks for getting me home. You know, and everything else too,” You paused for a moment, finishing with, “You really didn’t have to do all that.”

“Of course I did,” Rafe said, sounding surprisingly serious. “I’d never leave you like that. Ever.”

“I’m sorry I was such a mess,” you said, reflexively apologizing. “And sorry I was like…pawing at you like some animal.”

Rafe let out a dry sort of chuckle that betrayed he was at least slightly amused by some of your antics the night prior. It made your heart flutter, which just felt utterly ridiculous. He made a noncommittal noise. “I just wanted to make sure you, you know, were good.”

“No. Seriously, I can’t imagine how much worse that would’ve gotten without you there. So really, uh, thanks. I was…not thinking last night obviously,” you said. There was a pregnant pause over the phone and you realized how that sounded. “I mean I, like, really don’t drink that much!” You were rushing to clarify, anxious to make sure that Rafe knew you didn’t mean your conversation with him. “I seriously don’t even know how much I drank. I’m lucky I didn’t, like, die in my sleep.”

“I’ve seen you worse,” he said flatly. “You’d have been fine.”

“That’s when I had you, though,” you pointed out before you could stop yourself. You heard Rafe inhale sharply, saying your name but you cut him off. “Did you mean what you said?”

Rafe paused. “What?” he asked cautiously.

“That we can actually talk,” you clarified.

“Are you not too hungover for this?” Rafe asked, sounding tired already.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I want to talk to you.” You huffed out a sigh. “Rafe, I need to talk to you.”

You heard him let out a sigh of his own. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

“I want to do it in person,” you said, willing to push your luck here. “I don’t want to do this on the phone. I want to see your face so I know if you’re lying to me.”

Rafe gave a similar sort of dry chuckle to before. “Have never lied to you, Princess, but sure. Fine. Today?” he asked shortly.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Today. I think waiting two months was long enough.” Rafe didn’t rise to the bait, which you were partially glad for and partially disappointed by. “How about we meet at the country club at like…six?”

“You want to do this in front of people?” Rafe asked, surprised.

“No. We’ll go down to the beach. Just easier to meet there,” you said vaguely.

The reality was the country club gave you a way to chicken out last minute that the beach didn’t. At the country club, you could hide in a bathroom. On the beach, unless you were planning on drowning yourself or burying yourself in the sand you were stuck with him.

“Okay, Gorgeous,” he said lazily, the nickname slipping easily from his tongue. “Do you want me to pick you up or…”

“I’m good,” you denied. “I’ll get there.”

“See you later then,” he said.

“Okay. See you,” you said, hurriedly hanging up before you said something stupid like I love you or just tell me now why you left me.

You spent the next few hours panicking about what you’d just done, torn between hating yourself for making that choice and being relieved that it was finally happening. You gave all of your friends in your group chat a short version of your plan. You were met with a mixture of approval and disapproval from everyone—mostly born of a desire to make sure that you were alright. They offered to come and do recon so you’d have an easy out, but you denied the need. Then, they offered to come and slash his truck tires, which you declined just like you had the first hundred times they’d offered over the past two months. After that, they settled and just insisted that you text them an update later to let them know what was going on. It was easy enough to agree to.

You make your way to the country club a little bit before six and were shocked to see Rafe already waiting there. He was sitting at the bar, knee bouncing with anxiety, tapping at an empty glass in front of him. His eyes met yours, and just for a moment, you froze in place. Slowly, you drifted over to his side and were pleasantly surprised to see that he appeared entirely sober.

“Hey,” he greeted when you found words hard to formulate.

“Hi, Rafe,” you replied after a few breaths.

He looked you up and down, an undercurrent of amusement passing through his eyes. “I’d ask if you want a drink but I have a feeling that you’d rather swallow a bucket of sand right now,” he said.

You nodded, grimacing. “Pretty much,” you confirmed. You glanced towards the door. “Wanna…go?”

God, how could this be so fucking awkward? you asked yourself. This was the man you fell in love with and knew like the back of your hand and still somehow this was wildly uncomfortable like you didn’t know each other at all.

Rafe nodded slowly, rising to his feet. He gestured for you to go first, eyes habitually roaming around the room. They landed on the guy who had been touching you the night before at the party, gross hand on your leg as if he had any form of claim to you. Rafe felt his blood boiling for a moment and had to resist the urge to go and pummel the guy’s face in. It was hard for him, at least until the guy looked over, noticing Rafe. Immediately, the creep paled to a near-ghostly white shade. Satisfied by the obvious fear, Rafe offered the guy a condescending smile, with a harsh edge to it, teeth set. He put his hand on the small of your back as you walked, guiding you forward and opening the door for you as he went. As he passed through, his eyes did not separate from the guy’s until you had exited. The message was clear, even though you hadn’t even noticed the interaction at all.

She is Rafe Cameron’s, she is not available.

As you started to walk down to the beach, almost immediately, Rafe began to feel guilty for thinking that. He’d already done enough to hurt you in his eyes. But, then again, he couldn’t deny the part of him that desperately did want a second chance to reach that famous happy end. The kind that he knew only you could give him. The kind that only came with you beside him. No, he couldn’t ignore that part of him. It made up most of him. And he knew that it made up most of you too. And that was the part that made him loathe himself all the more.

On and on down the beach the pair of you walked, alternating between a few feet and barely a few inches between you. The silence continued on until you realized you didn’t even know how to approach this conversation. You sighed, stopping in your trek, evidently having decided you were far enough from other people to have this conversation now. 

“I don’t know how to even start this,” you admitted quietly. “I miss you. I meant that. I meant everything I said last night except that I hate you. I don’t. I wish I could, sometimes. But I don’t. I love you. And…and last night you said that you loved me too, still.”

“I do,” he said, shrugging, then setting his jaw to shut himself up.

“Then why are we doing this? When we love each other and we both want to be together? Why?” you asked, the words simple but desperate.

“You’re better off without me,” Rafe said, staring at the horizon, refusing to look at you.

“I’m not,” you denied. “And you’re not better without me either. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that either.” He’d been spending an egregious amount of his time high or wasted since your break up and it was impossible not to notice. Rafe glanced down at you and then back out over the water. The sky above you was morphing from its crystalline blue to the golden hues that promised night was coming soon. “I think we’re past lying to ourselves about that, don’t you? Or at least we should be.”

“I know that I’m not. But you are,” he reiterated. “I’m…an absolute fuck up. And I am only going to drag you down. That is all that I will ever be good for. You may not get that now. But you will.” He sighed and looked over at you. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, Princess.”

“Well look at that, wrong as usual,” you muttered, shaking your head. “You’re not any of that! You’re not a fuck up. You’re not going to drag me down. You are…” You gesticulated wildly, trying to have your brain magically summon the words to describe how you felt. You settled for shaking your head and gesturing around you. “You’re like a…like a fucking beacon or something.”

Rafe snorted. “Fuck me, if you think I’m some sort of guiding light you’ve lost it, Princess,” he said sharply. “I’m literally the opposite of that. I don’t…I don’t help people. I just hurt them.” He gestured towards you. “Look at my family. Look at my friends. Dragged them all down. And…I mean, just look at you. How could you think that I’m anything good anymore?” He shook his head. “No, just…no. I’m not.”

You groaned. “Stop talking about yourself like you’re some hideous monster that has to hide in the dark,” you insisted, voice growing louder. “You’re not. You’re just a man! That’s it! A fucking stupid man, who I love more than anything…who I hate to see tearing himself apart like he does. An absolutely idiotic man who I miss so much it hurts to wake up in the morning.” You deflated, shoulders slumping, and this time you were the one looking out over the water while Rafe stared intently at you. “I’m not better off without you.” From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe’s hand run over the bottom half of his face while he shook his head. You saw him bring his hand towards his lips and your head whipped over to look at him. “Don’t bite your damn nails, when was the last time you washed your hands? You’ve touched doors and railings! This is a public beach!”

It was like a bubble of tension cracked at that and Rafe laughed. Honest to God laughed. Laughed like you hadn’t heard in months from him. Laughed in a way that made your heart flutter and your lips turn up. The laugh kept going like he couldn’t stop it, and before you knew it you were chuckling yourself, which morphed into a hysterical laugh. You swatted at his arm in the midst of your laugh, but he caught your hand and held it. After a few moments longer, you both stared at each other, calming down. His easy smile and the crinkle of his eyes disappeared, replaced by a frown and concern.

“You…you should really find another guiding light if that’s what you’re looking for. A real beacon. Someone you can count on,” he said.

“Rafe,” you said seriously, taking a step closer to him. “Look at me.” He sighed but met your eyes. You squeezed your still-joined hands and he looked down as if he’d forgotten you were even touching. “You kept me from making myself look like an idiot last night. You got me home when I actively was trying to make it difficult. You held me until I fell asleep. You owed me nothing and you did that. I didn’t even have to ask you to, fuck I didn’t even want you to be there, but you knew what was good for me. And you left out water and pills and then texted me in the morning.” You let out a short, weak laugh. “I don’t think that I can count on someone else more than you.” He looked at you as if to say your name without having to actually speak it and you rolled your eyes. “Tell me something. How often do you get second chances in life?”

Rafe looked away, tongue running over his cheek, and then he looked back. “More than I deserve,” he said shortly.

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Stop being a self-sacrificial bitch for a second,” you said. He looked at you, scandalized and you had to resist the urge to laugh, soldiering on with your point. “Tell me, without the shit, how often you get second chances in life for something that you really want?” 

“I don’t,” Rafe said after a moment.

“And yet here I am. And I know that you still want to be together. And I am trying to give us a second chance. Why are you trying to refuse it?” you demanded.

“Because you actually are a fucking beacon of light,” he snapped, hand flexing like he was about to squeeze yours but stopped himself. “And I don’t want to…to fucking ruin that. I would never forgive myself if I ruined you. If I…made that fucking light go out? No, I’d never forgive myself. And I don’t want to risk you like that. Ever. And considering I’m this fucking black hole of bullshit…that is definitely risking it.”

His words resonated as if they were a tuning fork that struck and vibrated at the exact frequency of your very soul. He sighed and let go of your hand. In your shock, you let him. He moved away a few steps and paced back and forth. This time, when he brought his nails to his lips, you didn’t speak for a moment. You saw the glint of tears in his eyes and you didn’t know if they were from frustration or from sadness—both most likely.

Your brain caught up with you after a few moments of just staring at him. You walked forward and took his hand away from his mouth, moving your hands to rest behind his neck, forcing him to stop moving. Reflexively, his hands landed on your hips, holding you rather firmly to ground himself. You played with the ends of his hair, waiting for him to measure his breath once more and meet your eyes with his own.

“You’re not a black hole, idiot,” you said fondly. “You are not an irredeemable monster. You’re just scared.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched and he looked away, then back again. “I’m not fucking scared. But if I were, Princess? It’d be for good reason,” he said. “I have a lot to lose if I keep fucking up.”

“Everyone does,” you pointed out. You moved one hand to cup his cheek. “For now, if you think that I’m some mythical fucking beacon of light, then let me do it for both of us…be it.” He shook his head, blinking away tears he didn’t want to fall. “Rafe…I can handle you being stupid. I can handle your fuck ups. I have this long. What I can’t handle is losing you.” He was silent and you shrugged. “Look at me and tell me that if I walked away right now and started dating someone else you’d be okay with that.”

His eyes snapped back to you, visibly disturbed and angry. “Fuck no,” he admitted, practically spitting the words out.

“Exactly,” you said softly. His hands moved slowly to wrap around your waist more, no longer just resting on your waist. “I know that there are things we have to work on. Believe me. But we make sense. We work together. Let’s try again, Rafe.” You took a deep, shaky breath. “If you tell me you don’t love me. If you don’t want this…I’ll walk away. I won’t bring this up…won’t bother you again.”

“No,” Rafe said immediately, more firmly than even the last time. “I do love you, of course I fucking do. And yes I want you.” His voice almost immediately became choked up. “I want us. I just…”

“Are the words you’re looking for ‘am scared?’” you suggested.

“No,” he denied, using what was obviously his new favorite word once more. “Not scared. Just…hesitant to risk hurting you.”

You gave him a flat look. “Rafe, is loving me worth the risk of me hurting you?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I don’t care if you hurt me.”

“So then why can I not feel the same way about you?” you demanded. “It’s worth the risk. So let’s take it.”

“You’re more important than me,” he murmured, leaning your foreheads together, initiating the touch he obviously desperately craved.

The noise that escaped you was somewhere between a scoff and a snort. “That’s the dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you declared. “And you told me that for two years you didn’t believe that dinosaurs were real.”

Rafe laughed, weak but true and a sweet sound to your ears. As he did so, he pulled back just enough that your eyes were able to meet. “I was a child,” he defended, a tiny smile on his lips.

“You were twelve,” you corrected. “You started high school not believing that dinosaurs existed. You had to take an earth science class to realize that fossils were real.”

Turning his head, Rafe moved one of his hands to your face, holding your cheek, just like you were doing to him. “Can I kiss you to stop you from making fun of me again?” he asked softly, eyes darting down to your lips and then back up. “Or is it too soon to tell you to shut up without being an ass?”

You smirked. “Don’t worry. I know you’re an ass,” you said, leaning forward.

He met you halfway, your lips brushing together. The kiss was soft at first, sweet and featherlight as if trying to ascertain if it was really happening. That didn’t last for very long though. Quickly, Rafe’s grip on you tightened and he pulled you closer and deepened the kiss. You happily let him take the lead, letting your hands travel to the back of his neck again, longing to just sink into his embrace. When you broke apart, you both were breathing unevenly, looking at each other with vulnerable gazes.

“I missed you,” you said, voice strangely shy considering who you were talking to and how well you knew him—not to mention the fact that his tongue had been practically down your throat moments earlier.

“I love you,” Rafe said. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead that lingered, then tipped your chin up to meet his gaze, his other hand keeping you pressed firmly to his body. “You gonna be my girl again, Gorgeous?”

Even though you rolled your eyes, your smile gave you away. “I never really stopped, did I?” you posed.

He hummed, half-frown on his face, and shrugged. “Dunno,” he admitted.

“I didn’t,” you said, wanting to wipe away the insecurity from him in one assurance even though you knew you couldn’t. “I never stopped. And, for the record, I love you too. Even though you’re a jackass.” You paused. “And a little bit on the stupid side.”

Rafe’s lips cracked back into a smile that grew into something far more relaxed. “Well that’s good to know,” he murmured. 

“You just have pretty privilege is all,” you murmured quietly, voice serious despite the words being joking. You looked at him as though you feared he might disappear. 

He stroked your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t realized fell, and then reluctantly pulled away from you, forcing his hands into his pockets to keep from touching you. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“We do,” you confirmed. You offered him your hand. “Wanna go get something to eat and actually, you know, do that?”

Immediately, his hand was out of his pocket, and his fingers were laced with yours. “Yeah, Princess, I do,” he agreed. “Let’s go before it gets dark.”

“How could it get dark when I shine so bright as our beacon?” you asked, teasing, grabbing his arm with your free hand and squeezing it in a half-hug.

“Jesus Christ you’re lucky that you’re so damn easy to love,” Rafe said laughing. He pulled you closer, letting go of your hand in favor of throwing his arm over your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lips lingering, his voice going serious this time. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” you assured him. “I love you too.” He nodded, still not moving away yet. “Come on, Cameron. Let’s get a move on here. You’ll be thrilled to know that I didn’t listen to you and drink or eat much of anything today, so I am desperately in need of water or something.”

Rafe groaned. “Of course you didn’t,” he said dryly. “Come on, can’t let my girl stay dehydrated or hungry.”

With that, he started pulling you back up the beach towards the country club. And, in the back of your mind, even with the lingering uncertainty and unsaid words, you felt better than you had in what felt like an eternity. You stared at Rafe’s face—your Rafe, your stupid, sweet, annoying, perfect boyfriend—as the golden hour’s light hit him. The angelic glow that it cast on his infuriatingly perfect face was always breathtaking. But, something about him at this moment, after being so vulnerable and honest, struck you differently. You took your phone out and snapped a picture of him before he could notice or refuse and smiled down at it, ignoring the delayed groan when Rafe realized you’d already captured it.

“Come on, Gorgeous,” he complained.

“Sorry, I just had to capture the day Rafe Cameron admitted he was wrong. It’s a historical event,” you said, grinning, sending the picture to your friend before turning the phone off wanting to focus only on him.

He rolled his eyes at the jab, but you were pleased to see the way that his lips twitched up in an amused smile. The sight lightened your heart and made your lips stretch into a wider version of your own smile you’d already been sporting. And in the slowly fading light of day, there were only two things that you were certain of.

Rafe didn’t give himself nearly enough credit.

You weren’t going to make the same mistake as him.

Taglist: @joselyn001 @caughtinthetides @proactivetypaperson @abbybarnesstuff @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @fangirlfree @antagonize-me-motherfucker

[starsinthenigth]

Hey there! I think you're still doing requests! (i hope you are-) Could you do a oneshot with Leo and an overachiever reader? a reader that would go above and beyond for their grades and won multiple competitions, known for their smarts that often burns themselves out and pull all-nighters and all that jazz?

Take your time, eat, drink, etc! -MysticMidnight

|★| A/N: Hiya hey, uuuh- just to let you know, this is a bit of a slow burn and it's also quite long. The reader is gender natural, by the way. I feel like this could use part two so yeaaah.. we see If I make it. I hope you enjoy. By the way, this is my first ever one shot, so I hope you enjoy <3

|☆| TW: mentions of burnout, mentions of (reader) pulling all nighters

|★| Other warnings: long oneshot ahead, Leo may be occ.

|☆| Tropes: romantic, angst-y

|★| Request: Leo with an overachiever reader

Another message notification pops up onto their phone, which is followed by the short, familiar, high pitched ringing that reminds them that someone just texted them. It's the seventh time today, well, the seventh time in half an hour to be exact, almost as if the messenger is eager for them to reply, however, their attention remains on the note book that's placed on their desk. (Reader's) gaze is locked on the page, the half of the sheet is filled and scribbled with multiple assignments and notes that they finished, looking at the freshly written letters and numbers on the worn piece of paper with a proud, yet tired look on their face. Their hand lets loose off of the pen, setting it aside for a moment to take a small breather before they move on to the next piece of homework that they have. Although the assignments felt never ending, that didn't stop (Reader) from getting them done and even if they didn't have anything to do in terms of homework, they would make up an assignment of their own, all for the sake of learning and learning, in order to achieve more in life.

Sometimes, they would set aside stuff like hang outs, friends, and most importantly their own health- as well rest and taking breaks, even if they are short ones. The most of a hangout they would do is if they study, or go to a competition with someone, in order for their friends to see them thrive at their victory. And the most of a break that they would allow themselves to take was to just take a deep breath, to mentally prepare themselves for the next thing. And at the moment, it felt like the time to catch that break.

With their chest slowly rising upwards, their breathing is soon tagged along with a yawn that's about to spill from their mouth, a yawn which they try to repress by locking their lips shut- before sliding their hand up to their face in order to keep it from coming out. They feel the muscles in their sore collarbones stretch as their shoulders rise, their head sliding upwards a bit, their gaze shifting from the notebook to the ceiling in a matter of seconds. That proud little smile that played on their lips just a moment ago vanishes off of their face.

They can't deny that they feel a little dozed off at the moment, although, they have more work to do, and they shall get it done.

They force their body to relax once more, feeling a little limp from the lack of movement. They've been sitting down at their desk for a couple of hours now, refraining themselves from getting up until they've finished everything they have and want to get done.

Shaking off their dizziness, replacing it with determination to finish more assignments, they hang their head down low to stare at the notebook, blinking a little in order to get rid of their hazy vision. The letters and sentences on the page become a little distorted at first glance, however- (Reader), has already memorized what they wrote down, along with what they needed to do. Their fingers stretch forward onto their desk, reaching for their pen- their hand feeling a little limp as they do so. Their eyebrows narrow a little at this, their fading gaze locking onto their hand, glaring at it for a brief second.

It's almost as if they are mentally scolding themselves that it's silly of them to stop working, just because of a little fatigue.. Well, fatigue that's slowly taking over their body that is.

Despite that, (Reader) pushes the tired feeling away, attempting to battle it with a want for pride, knowledge and satisfaction, therefore pushing themselves further as well, to finish their homework. Normally, whenever they are in need of motivation, they would lock their eyes at the multiple medals and trophies from both past, and recent competitions, prizes and rewards sit proudly on their shelf above the TV set in their room, but at the moment, they feel as if they can't bring themselves to strife their attention away. As their hand begins to pull the pen towards them, shifting in their fingers in order to get a good grip on it, the faint- and this time, somewhat distorted sound of the message notification that emits from their phone, passes through their ears once more, followed by screen flashing automatically. The bright glow of their phone is one of the few things at the moment that successfully captures their attention, although their brain- is telling them to not allow themselves to look or do anything that could wipe away their focus. Nonetheless, they snap their head at the glowing device, the light that contrasts through the dim room sends a small stab of pain towards their head, making them shut their eyes closed for a couple of moments, their eyelids feeling as if they are glued.

They slowly open their eyes, trying to adjust their vision to the environment around them Secretly and silently, they prayed that their eyes would remain closed- however, that prayer was short lived, as it was eliminated by yet another fast, strict scold of their brain, therefore opening their eyes so that they can at least get a glimpse of who is messaging them at this hour.

And once they do so, their eyes are met, or more likely re-introduced, to the vibrating, and bright device, along with the name of the eager messenger.

'That Dorky Jupiter Jim Loving Slider'

Their fatigued mind does a little equation in order to remember who..

oh... Leo.

(Reader's) eyes widen a little at the realisation. The person who was messaging them was their partner. He was messaging them for at least half an hour and they didn't even spare a glimpse at his messages. They felt a small pang of guilt hit their mind, almost like waves to the shore. It drowns away their determination, though, it's just for a moment. Their hand shivers a little as it abandons the pen, their fingers being a little stained with the blue ink that was meant to help them complete their assignments and it's now instead, inching closer to their phone to unlock the screen, and enter the messaging app. Squinting their eyes at the white screen, trying to make out the texts of their partner with a fuzzy vision, they sense another yawn coming their way. Their hands twitch a little, lips sewing themselves shut in an attempt to contain their energy.

If managing to stay awake after pulling four all nighters in one week was a competition, they would unfortunately lose, despite the many wins that they've had so far.

And it's a competition that they, like many others, have to win. But the few things that could help them win are their stubborn mindset, the glow of their phone and the muffled knocking coming from behind their window.

Wait, knocking from the window..? Their head spins at the direction of the noise. It falters for a second, going quite for a short period of time. Soon enough, that sound was substituted by their phone vibrating in their hand. That little notion was followed by the sudden sound of chirping sounds, that came from the same device. (Reader) didn't even have to look to understand who was calling them, they recognised the caller by the sound of the off the ringtone. A sound that they understand when their mutant partner is calling them, the sound of red eared slider turtle chirping.

Despite knowing who it was, the sound surprised them and jolted them awake, for a short period of time that is. With a heavy heart, and a hitched sigh, they leave behind their wants for knowledge, just for a couple of moments to go and either greet him, or to try and explain to him to leave alone them with their homework, their body shivers a little from exhaustion as they pull themselves away from the chair, their feet struggling to stabilize them.

They felt a small groan rip from their hoarse throat, which reminds them that they have to drink water, although- they brush off that thought. With their hand squeezing the vibrating device and their body practically slumping, (Reader) forces themselves to straighten their posture as they walk, or more likely stomp closer to the window. As they slumped closer to it, the shadowy- although recognisable silhouette of the blue cladded terrapin waiting at their window fills their vision, a sight that would usually surprise them in a positive manner, however at the moment- they saw it as a distraction. But they couldn't bring themselves to protest against it, not at the moment at least.

After reaching the window of their room, they raise their arm upwards to knock back to him, the cool and smooth surface of the thick glass making contact with their soft skin, the light pressure of their knuckles creating a couple of quick tapping sounds which immediately grasp the turtle's attention, who whips his head to look at them through the thick glass. Once his focus is locked onto them, (Reader) catches a glimpse of a little grin appearing on his face, which gives them the message that he is happy to see them. However, they don't open the window immediately like they would usually do, therefore not allowing him to enter.

This causes his smile to falter a tiny bit, an undertone of concern could be briefly seen on his face. The slider's mouth opens, mouthing something at them- his faint voice slips away from both (Reader's) ears, and mind. Nonetheless, they still notice his concern and they decide to not waste any more by just letting out their partner in the cold. With quick, yet forced movements, they began unlocking the window, putting their hands on its smooth sill, pulling it in order to get it open.

It was normally a swift motion, however, they struggled to get it open, as their arms started to feel weak as well, but they managed- and once they did, their legs thumped backwards so that they can make room for the mutant to come in, which he swiftly did- in almost excited pace. A cold gust of the fresh, midnight wind tagged along with Leonardo's entrance, bringing a rather pleasant contrast to the damp atmosphere of (Reader's) room. Letting fresh air in their room is, as well, one of the things that they forget to do whenever they study for long periods of time.

They can't argue with the fact it's pleasant having Leonardo over, however- there are more pleasant things in life, like gaining knowledge and fixing up their grades.

"Oh, man- that felt like forever.." The blue clad complained in a somewhat playful manner, his voice rang around his partner's room, filling the silence that they were so used to these past couple days. However, there's a worried undertone creeping up on his words.. one that's familiar with them.

"Yeah, uh.." They can hear their own voice straining a little as they start speaking, that same hoarse tone finding its way in their words. It makes them want to grimace, and the dryness that is stuck in their throat as they try to clear it is not any help either.

God, they really need to get some water, and they are not the only one who thinks that. (Reader) shudders a small breath, trying to recollect their energy that abandoned them just a few minutes ago.

"Leo- listen, about the messages, I'm sorry but-" Once more, they start speaking, feeling as if they own their partner an apology. They try to make their voice a little more audible to both their and the sliders ears, as it sounds a bit scratchy for comfort. Despite their attempts at soothing their discomforting tone, it's all in vain- and it's not long before they are cut out by the slider.

"Woahwoahwoah! I've- I've got a question.." He quickly shushes them up, the little smile he had on his face begins to fade away into an expression of worry as he takes a mental note of their state. Their slumping, their tired looking state. It was a worrysome sight to look at, but the mutant should have expected something like this to happen. He can also guess the reasoning behind their lack of responses for the past hour..

Okay, the past days If we are being literate. (Reader) can as well sense, what he is going to ask-

"Oooh- Is that medal new??" ..Only for their prediction to go out of the window as they now hear the distracted and rather amazed tone of voice of their partner, his focus doing a whole 180 as his eyes lock on the shelf that holds all the rewards that they've earned. Upon seeing him get so thrilled over their achievement, (Reader) lets a mental sigh of relief to cross over their hazy mind, as well as feeling a stinge on pride pinching at the corners of their brain. In these types of cases, they would happily explain to him the effort they put into gaining their prize, sharing fun facts about the things that went down at the competition as well, although now, it didn't feel like the best time for explanations, no matter how much they would like like to talk. So, to keep things short, they just give a quick nod- a tired smile forming onto lips as they do so.

Their head then shifts directions, eyes now glueing at the notebook on their desk. At this point, they can barely recognise the containments on it, despite the fact that it's used as a reminder for them to get their homework done. The longer they look at it, the more Leo's compliments and positive comments begin to spill out of their brain, soon, completely missing his distracted rambling.

Those assignments. They have to get them done. They have to finish them. They need to-

"(Reader)? Hey-! The earth and the galaxies are all calling to (Reader)!" It's not long before the slider snaps them back to reality, the motion of his gloved palm running up and down their face, just inches away from touching them. The quick motions block whatever sight they once had with the scribbled sheet. It resulted in a small yelp to rip from their throat, therefore startling both themselves and the blue clad. They almost forgot he was in their room for a moment. Hitching a sigh, before relaxing their body-they make one last attempt to clear their throat, rapidly fluttering their eyes so that they can fix their poor eyesight. However, their slumping state is bringing great worry to their partner and before they could even get a word out, he cuts them off.

"Eeggh.. Yeesh, you don't look- you don't look so good."

He looks at their face. It appears to be a little hollow, exhausted even, there are dark bags that surround their eyes as well.

He thought about making a little joke, asking what kind of brand those bags are- a joking question that he usually makes to Donnie. However, he acknowledges that this might not be the moment for such jokes.

A grimace takes place scrunches up on his face, it's not particularly a look of disgust, but rather a look of solicitude. A look in which, despite their fuzzy vision, is noticed by (Reader). They know that he is right, they know it.

|★| NOTES: ..Theres way more that i want to add, so I feel like i have to make a part two. Also I am sorry for any potential grammar mistakes sbsjs. Also, the ending might feel a bit rushed-

[ctheathy]

Yandere Eepop the Performer NSFW Headcanons

Eepop x Reader

Yandere+NSFW Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: I personally interpret Eepop as a male. But I am always willing to write for those who'd see her as a girl instead ;)) Just don't forget to mention which gender you'd think is more fitting if you wanna request for Eepop <3

Eepop/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

These are smut headcanons, read at own risk. dom!Reader+sub!Eepop • You're basically gonna step on him LOL • Masochism on top of some more masochism • Obsession • Another sadism streak Reader • Poor mental state • Punishment • Harassment • Sexual fantasies • Dirty talk • Onomadek's abuse mentioned • Degradation • Climax mentioned •

I believe it's quite easy to say that Eepop is a rather submissive and meek person to be around. Even as a yandere with his nasty mentality, he would still be obedient to what you tell him ... probably even more so. Cause unlike usually being fearful of being hurt, in this state Eepop relishes in his pain. Years upon years of Onomadek's physical abuse, torturous abilities on the mental state and hostile behaviour having affected Eepop greatly in the head. You could literally make him bow down with the snap of a finger and that's not even all of it. You could walk all over him and he would absolutely love being under your heel. You could treat him like a personal footstool and he would still ask for more. You'd definitely have Eepop as a masochist because he’ll be craving the idea of being physically dominated and hurt. If you were to step on a tiny insect next to him, it wouldn't take long for his body to react. Getting so shaky and aroused that he’d be seconds away from begging you to step on him too.

Oh, when this man proposes the idea, you should absolutely take your chance and do it too. I suggest you try remaining partly gentle about it though, as we're not necessarily here to cause any physical harm. But as long as you keep a high posture, basically threatening him with the sharp heel of your footgear, he’d be completely at your mercy in that situation. He would try to resist himself for a bit, try to ignore how turned on he is by you, try to ignore how much he wants you to continue. But eventually his breath would start becoming erratic, eyes half lid as he whimpers out your name while squirming.

But as soon as you brought the heels out he would probably be trembling all over, trying to plead with you to be gentler with him and not get his hopes up and then crush them. Like you would just constantly be walking around him, keeping him on edge by coming dangerously close to stepping on him but never actually doing it. And the sharp tip wouldn't even dig into him, but instead pinched in between his thighs as it's pressing his crotch. Which is treatment Eepop would go absolutely wild over. A person that can dominate him in every aspect but in such an oddly gentle way? A person that squeezes his crotch but doesn’t dig their heel into his flesh? Eepop's mind would be utterly filled with the most erotic and sweet thoughts about you. And the fact that you couldn't even bother to look at him would make it even worse. You would have the capability to absolutely stomp down on him, but you may also actively just choose not to.

There would definitely be better options instead, like teasingly dragging your footwear across his face, tracing his jawline before sliding them down his body. Squeezing his rump as you apply the pressure to his hips, looking down at him with such an unimpressed gaze. Dragging your foot down his side like it’s nothing, your heel poking his skin like pins in a balloon. You’d be able to hear a high-pitched yelp every time you moved it along his skin, his tail flinching and becoming stiff as it happens. And he would likely just freeze in place, not knowing what to do or knowing whether he could move or not, trying to act like it didn't sting a little bit.

I honestly cannot even imagine you putting your heel against his throat or near it and NOT having him be completely terrified and start frantically pleading with you like you hold his life in your hands. He would definitely be in shambles after a session like that, with the worst part being that he embarrassingly craves more of it. He would be pouring with desire, he would want nothing more than to please you. He would probably have to be force-fed water or he would dehydrate from how much he would be salivating. You would be able to do whatever you wanted with him like this and he would be a complete mess.

You should have absolutely zero shame with this boy. You could toy with his feelings and fantasies like a master, being the reason why his mind starts to fall apart like a house of cards. Holding even less respect for him if he were to fall onto his knees and moan for you to take advantage of his mind and body, at the verge of completely begging for you to do what you want with him and use him as a puppet. And I wouldn't even be surprised if you pushed him that far that he ends up releasing before the ordeal is even done, the white strings that squirt out of his body now ruining your footgear ...which would likely, understandably make you scoff in disgust. Your flirting turning more passive aggressive.

“You would've preferred to empty your load inside of me instead, didn't you..~?”

“You'd much rather prefer your meat to be buried deep within me and your sticky semen being shot and squirt into me like you were trying to overload me with your mark, wouldn't you?”

“I'm betting you would want to fill me up with your seed. ...Gross.”

A moment where you'd really just be playing along and feeding into those fantasies. Where in return his junk would keep twitching in excitement by just hearing it. Any sense of sanity draining from his face the longer you keep it up, as his tail begins to sway excitedly at this treatment. I can absolutely imagine his body having a similar reaction too, like his hips twitch up involuntarily, his breath shivers and quivers every time you even say something. His whole body spasming every now and again when you do this and you laugh and mock him for it. You'd be able to get him all kinds of riled up in the most suggestive ways possible. Just the mere thought of him hearing the things that you'd say to him and his body is just absolutely tingling with raw excitement and arousal.

Where in response you could be behaving so bipolar that you'd go from treating him like an angel and telling him “good boy” to looking down at his whimpering puppy-like face and calling him a filthy dog. But it's getting to a point where you're not even wrong for doing that, he is the filthiest boy of them all. He's so out of control that he deserves to be put down and punished. And this is when he'll start getting into the dirty names. I could easily imagine Eepop's body being sent into a state of pure primal hunger. You're playing with his fantasies and desires, teasing him with those sweet words and making his mouth water for more. I’d bet that at some point he’d be trying to keep his mouth closed to prevent any saliva from dribbling out and down his chin, but his breathing would become more and more shallow as you continued to tease him.

His poor, poor eyes would roll back so much that he would be able to see the inside of his skull. It would be so much for him to handle that he would immediately become completely overwhelmed, turning into this twitching, drooling mess of a boy that's desperate for you to keep giving anything to him. It would be the biggest test to his willpower ever and he wouldn’t survive it. He would simply give in and beg the entire time.

Where he'd honestly just have a whole mental breakdown at that point. He’d fall to his knees and plead with you with tears in his eyes. Eepop would be at a low point like he’s never been in his entire life, he would be the most submissive and pathetic person in existence and he would absolutely want you to have so much power over him. He’d be nothing but “give me more of yourself, I want you to own me. I want you to make me yours. please... please…” and doing anything in order to get it. He’s so weak and susceptible and you'd know exactly what you're doing to him. All your little comments and questions of degradation, the way you hold and present yourself, your voice, your body, your lips...

EVERYTHING is a form of control for him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[kkumawrites]

Pang! Part Twelve: third wheeling previous | next word count: 508 tw/cw: talks about hurting someone else. food mentions. miyoung (lol). unedited bc i'm lazy. sorry <3

It’s awkward.

It’s probably just you though as you try to focus on your laptop and your scattered notes, not daring to look across the table at how Miyoung clings to Chan as he attempts to work on his portion of the paper. Anxiously you sip at your latte, letting the caffeine seep into your veins but it certainly doesn’t help the annoying feeling of your heart beating against your ribcage. 

It doesn’t help that you can definitely feel Miyoung’s glare practically burning your skin and you want nothing more than to glare back, show her just how much you hate her as much as she hates you. At least you have a good reason for your dislike. Your gaze lingers on how she has her arm coiled around Chan’s, similarly like a snake’s and you almost laugh at the resemblance. However your attention is focused on her perfectly manicured hands, her long pointed nails painted an obnoxious pink, and all you can think about is her using it to her advantage, digging them into his pretty tanned skin and the thought makes you almost sick. 

How could anyone think that it’s okay to do that? Let alone to someone you’re supposed to love, someone you’re supposed to shower with affection. You can feel your own fingers sinking into the palm of your hand to get rid of your intrusive thoughts, though your dull, non painted nails don’t do much. Miyoung pipes up and effectively silences your thoughts. 

“Channieeeee. I’m bored,” Her voice is high pitched and hearing it makes your head throb. It’s barely been an hour since you guys have met up, but you’d rather not have to be in her presence for a second longer.

“Miyoung, It’s only been an hour…” Chan’s voice is soft compared to normal, as if not wanting to upset her. You simply shake your head, giving a strained smile.

“That’s ok, we still have time. We can end here, besides i’m starting to get hungry. I’ll go hit up Soonie to get lunch,” You’re quick to pull out an excuse out of your ass, anything to get out of this awkward situation. 

“See! Let’s go,” Miyoung is all too eager to leave as well, pulling on Chan’s arm until he gives in, putting his laptop away and letting out a small sigh. 

“Ok, ok. Thanks YN. See you on saturday? For the Aquarium?” He asks you, turning his gaze on you and his eyes soften. You definitely don’t feel your heart skip a beat just from his look alone. 

“Y-yeah! See you then,” You manage to let out, grabbing your phone to send a quick text to Soonyoung. They turn around to leave but Miyoung turns to face you, sending you one last dangerous glare. Feeling gutsy, you glare back - just as dangerously and she can’t help but flinch and pulls Chan out the door faster.

You scoff, shaking your head and running a frustrated hand through your hair. Oh yeah. You definitely hated her for a good reason. 

[prettyarson]

Late Night Drive

featuring: yandere!scaramouche x gn!reader

cw/tw: kidnapping, toxic behavior, pet name darling, a bit of physical assault

synopsis: you have a crush on the prettiest cashier

notes: this is a part two to my post late night convenience !! pls enjoy !

—

With the moon up high in the sky, you prepared yourself for the worst. Caffeine tangled into your bloodstream, boosting the adrenaline that pounded your heart. You sat in the passenger seat of your car, its engine roaring in the pitch black night. The driver of your car was silent as he sped on the pavement, eyes fixated to the road.

You so desperately wanted to calm your shaking body, but the silence was maddening. You were scared out of your wits and you were trying not to think of the essay you actually had due that night. You couldn’t help but steal glances at the pretty cashier, hoping to read some type of emotion on his face, but he gave off no hints.

“Staring is rude, you know?” Scaramouche scoffed, not even taking the effort to take his eyes off the road, “Didn’t anyone teach you manners?”

Bewilderment took over your features and you held back a snort. He threatened you, took your car, with yourself in it, and he has the gall to lecture you about manners? But you bit your tongue.

“Where are we going?” You finally asked, but the tone of your voice was as shaky as your body.

He didn’t answer for some time, as if he was contemplating actually telling you. The air turned thick as the question hung up in the air. An exasperated sigh left his lips and, finally, he spared you a glance.

“Home.” He answered.

Home? Your thought process was moving 100 miles per hour. His home? Your home? A home? You hadn’t recognized any of the roads you were traveling, but with only the moonlight to go by, you could have easily passed something you knew.

You weren’t sure how long you were anxiously watching out the door window before the car seemed to slow down. The sun was beginning to rise in the distance and the faint chirps of birds rung in your ear. The crunching of tires against gravel overtook the chirps and rows of trees began to block the rising sun. At the end of the road was an ominous house that sent shivers up your spine. It was surrounded by overgrown weeds that vine up the side of the wooden walls. The grass in the surrounding areas looked like it went up to your knees except for a small path that led up to the door of the house. You could only assume this was the home the cashier was talking about.

Stationing the, stolen, car in a make do drive way, Scaramouche was quick to whip his body in your direction. You jumped back at the sudden movement and locked eyes with him. Those indigo orbs still stirred up butterflies in your stomach, but you knew this time, fear was mixed in with those giddy feelings.

Cold, clammy hands clamped onto yours. In most cases, you would have ended up in a blush, but the tight, crushing pressure was too painful. He was a lot stronger than that baggie hoodie made him seem.

There was a small stir of emotion within his eyes, but it was gone as quick as it showed up. His eyebrows were furrowed, his nose scrunching lightly, and a soft breath escaped his lips.

“I’ve been waiting so long to get you home” He admitted, never once wavering his gaze from you, “Now I finally have you.”

Your head began to shake and your body began to struggle, attempting to pull your hands from his. The seatbelt around your torso was getting in the way, preventing you from moving any further. Your back dug into the car door, causing little pained whimpers to leave your lips.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Scaramouche cooed, a dark chuckle crawling up his throat. “I thought this is what you wanted? Nothing can get in the way of our love here.”

“Love?” You gasped, voice wavering and cracking, “I don’t know who—“

“Shut up!” He snapped, one of his hands leaving yours to grab hold of your face, cheeks squished in between his fingers. He pulled you closer until you could feel his breath against your skin, seatbelt burrowing into your chest.

Your heart hammered against your chest plate and your breathing began to quicken, lungs struggling against your rib cage. Tears were beginning to build into the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill. With each gulp of air you took, a stream of static echoed through your eardrums.

Scaramouche instantly took notice of your tears, the grip on your face loosening only slightly; definitely not enough for you to get away. “Don’t cry, darling.” He cooed, “Just relax.”

His face leaned in close, giving a kiss to one of your teary eyes. Feeling just a bit greedy, he did the same to the other. A pleasant smile crept up onto his lips, satisfied with himself.

“I’m sure you’re tired.” He murmured, fingers leaving your cheeks as he unbuckled you. “Let’s get you inside.”

Feeling little hope, your body moved along with his, almost like a puppet. You couldn’t believe this was really happening. All the times you had visited the late night convenience store just to catch glimpse of him behind the counter. All the times you hoped that he would look at you more. All the times you wished that you could get to know him. You wanted to mute all your previous desires.

His fingers ghosted the sides of your arms as he guided you inside the house. It was clean and tidy, not a speck of dust to be found. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. And finally, he had you to add.

“You’ll love it here, darling. Trust me.”