#been meaning to share that little scene and i always forget so thank you for the excuse

[hyunsvngs]

𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 - lee minho x fem!reader

wc: 5.8k

cw: this is a piss fic, you have been warned - don't like don't read, established d/s dynamics in a relationship, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: your boyfriend has something he wants to try in bed. you didn't expect to like it so much.

a/n: like i said before this is a piss fic, if you don't like don't read! thank u to the sweet girl who commissioned this & thank u to my babies may and nessa for proofreading and also my ems <3 i was super nervous about this so i hope u like <3 smut warnings ofc under cut

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sw: PISS, established d/s dynamics, dom!minho, sub!reader, subspace, SERIOUSLY THERE’S PISS, face fucking, oral (m rec), very negotiated kink, minho calls reader a plethora of pet names, nipple play, one (1) face slap, minho’s condescending and MEAN, choking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, squirting, reader calls minho sir briefly, brief aftercare but more offscreen!!

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It’s always daunting when Minho gets like this. You know exactly what’s going to go down tonight - you’ve discussed it extensively. You always have to discuss it extensively. Minho is nothing if not a good dom, and there’s rules and regulations that you have to adhere to, even if he is your boyfriend.

It still catches you off guard. He paces across the room to your shared wardrobe, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and exposing his veiny forearms. You’re perched on the bed, the exact way he told you to be in your plain black underwear. The fresh sheets are a welcome coolness on your warm skin. You’re overheating in excitement. You can’t wait. 

He’s going to piss on you tonight. He’s going to piss on you tonight, or maybe even in you, he’d said - he wanted to make you well and truly messy. Just the way he liked you. He told you he’d be mean, maybe even meaner than normal, and you’d agreed to it all before climbing into his lap and begging him to take you on the flimsy dining table chair in your kitchen in all of your excitement. He had chuckled, brushing a hand over your head with a teasing little “you want it that bad, huh?”. He still fucked you, so your plan went as hoped.

“I want to talk to you about something before we start, jagi,” His voice is smooth, low in volume, yet you hear every word loudly. You nod in response, and he turns and blinks at you, slow and cat-like. Oh, yeah. You were forgetting yourself already.

You blush in embarrassment of how far gone you are already, and he smiles, soft and barely noticeable. Fond. “Yeah, Min?”

The blush only continues to spread when he finally, finally climbs onto the bed next to you. He’s still in his work clothes, shirt tight on his broad pecs and his trousers tight on his thighs. You try not to stare. You fail, and he chuckles, using two fingers to prop your chin up to look directly at his eyes.

“This scene is a little harder than the other ones we’ve done,” He looks at you. It would feel scrutinising, the way he’s sizing you up, but his eyes are so full of fondness you can’t feel perceived at all - only admired. “I’m a little worried you may fall into subspace. Do you know what that is?”

He’s using his dominant voice on you, you swear. The tone of voice that’s level, not quite monotone but very, very straightforward and firm. Almost strict. It makes you rub your thighs together in need. Your boyfriend is so sexy when he’s like this. 

A quick scratch to your chin has you blinking back into reality. Yes. “Yes, I do know what that is. I’ve never done that before though, have I? So I probably won’t now, and-”

“We don’t know that,” He’s firm when he cuts you off, but presses a kiss to your nose nonetheless. “I need to know if you’re okay with me continuing if I notice you getting all floaty, jagi. I won’t if you don’t want me to. This is all in your hands, yeah? You know you run this show.” 

He chuckles, lightening the mood, but he’s right. When Minho first introduced you to this, you realised very quickly that despite the dominant being physically in charge, it was definitely the submissive that held the reins. It’s hard giving yourself over to someone so viscerally - it’s a vulnerable state to be in, letting someone decide your limits and decide what’s best for you.

Despite that, you’d let Minho fuck you outside in six foot snow, so you were definitely down for being fucked in subspace.

“Yes. Yeah, I want you to- I think it’d be hot, I think,” You’re babbling already, and Minho smiles again, his teeth glinting in the low light of your lamp. “I think it would be hot if you carried on, and I was like- all fuzzy, and stuff. You know?”

It’s silent for a beat, and then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Cute. Remember I love you, jagi, okay?”

Oh. Oh, you were starting? He normally only said that before you started, and before you can question him, he’s pressing his mouth against yours firmer, harder. It’s messy, the way he dominates your mouth instantly and uses one hand to tangle in your hair, yanking your hair back. You whimper against his lips, and he bites your bottom lip in response, finally moving to press you down to the bed with him on top of you. He starts to trail kisses down your face and your neck, and you can't help but let out a small noise of excitement. Before you can beg him to leave his mark on you, he quickly moves back up to your lips and starts to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth in an act of possession. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer, feeling yourself getting a lot more than just worked up.

His chest is muscled, the slightly toned soft muscle that only makes sense on Minho. He’s not heavy on top of you, only a presence where he licks and sucks into your mouth until you’re leaking into your panties. He pulls away, his lips dropping to your neck, and you can’t be anything more than pliant the way you let him use your skin and mark you as his. You are his. Mentally, emotionally, physically - any way he wants you, you’ll let him.

“I love this body,” Minho groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Such a filthy fucking body. You’re gonna let me piss on it, aren’t you?”

You whine, loud and unabashed, and Minho chuckles. It’s a puff of air against the exposed column of your neck and your hips cant up, searching for friction. 

“Oh, you are,” His hand moves down to your bra, searching through the lace for your pebbled nipple. The lace is thin, pitch black and almost sheer, and a grin forms on his face when he manages to pinch your nipple meanly. “Look at how excited you are for it. Your nipples are so hard, are you that excited for my piss?”

You try to nod in response, but a quick slap against your cheek using his spare hand has you reeling to try and form words. You’re babbling before you can even think. “Y-Yes! Yes, Minho, I’m excited. I can’t wait, I wanna- I wan’ taste it, will you let me? Please?”

He hums in consideration, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your tits to him. He was right - your nipples are hard and pebbled, dusky against your flesh, and he ducks down to engulf one in his mouth. His lips are full, plush like pillows, and his tongue darts around your nipple in small kitten licks. Soft, wet, warm. Pliant. His.

Minho’s bunny teeth are quick to bite at the peak, and you whine, back arching up to get more of the painful pleasure. He coos at this, finger running over your areola once when he pulls back from your chest. He sits back on his haunches, fingers deftly making quick use of his belt. The way he pulls the belt from the loops on his trousers have you remembering all the times he’s whipped you with it, and your eyes go blurry. You’re staring directly at the extremely prominent bulge in his trousers as if you somehow have x-ray vision and can see his cock in all its glory already.

“I’m going to fuck your face,” He explains, pushing down the expensive branded boxers to his thighs. His thighs are thick, muscled from years of dance, and you nod at his words despite having your vision solely trained on the bulging muscles. You can’t even keep your attention there for long - his cock springs out, hard and flushed and so big, so thick in the tight ring he forms around the base. The veins look as though they could be practically throbbing beneath the skin with arousal. “I’ll fuck your face, and I’ll piss down your throat. Do you want that? Tell me.”

He’s asking you, and you can’t believe it. Of course you want it, but you respond anyway. “I want it. I want it so bad, Minho. How do you want me? On the floor, on my knees? Or do you-”

“On the floor,” He looks towards the ground, pleased with himself when you heed his commands immediately. You’re quick to dive off of the bed and sink to your knees on the floor, and Minho lets out a fond chuckle before standing in front of you, ever the image of dominance. The hardwood floor doesn’t save your knees, still feeling hard and uncomfortable, and the way the pain bites into your legs has you shifting even more. It turns you on, being used and treated like an object, and being put on the floor to suck cock doesn’t help any. You’re positively ruining your panties by now.

His trousers are pushed down to his ankles, the perfect juxtaposition of black, thick material against his milky skin. His shirt is rolled up just enough for you to see the bottom of his tummy, hairy and soft above his cock. You expect him to keep it on, but you watch in awe as he unbuttons his shirt quickly and throws it to the side. His chest is exposed to you then, all broad muscle and dusky pink nipples against his skin.

He pumps his shaft in his hand a few times for good measure, just barely a few inches from your face, and then he’s tapping the cockhead on your lips. “Open wide. C’mon, kitty cat.”

His tone is condescending, almost patronising, and you hold back a whine. When your lips fall apart, he’s pushing into your mouth before you can even process it. A blistering, feverish pace immediately takes over his hips, and his cockhead is ramming down your throat with only a slight bit of pain beneath all of the pleasure. You try to run your tongue over the tip, to trace the veins with the tip of your tongue, but it’s impossible. He’s using your mouth like he’d use your pussy, unabashed and downright mean.

“Take it,” he grunts, looking ever the ethereal being above you. If you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was an angel - no, a fallen angel, debauched and with black, wiry wings sprouting from his back. Sweat covers the top of his chest, shiny and wet, and his cockhead presses firmly into the back of your throat. Your eyes water with the intense ministrations on your throat, hands aching to reach out and grab onto Minho’s thighs. They stay securely on your own limbs, and Minho groans, his eyes staring down into yours.  “Fucking take it for me. Take my cock, dirty kitty. Don’t you dare fucking cry about it.”

You’d swear he was composed if it wasn’t for the way he was looking down at you. Minho’s mostly quiet in bed, only a few sparse noises, but the fire in his eyes is visible.

The sounds in the room are filthy. Your eyes are hazy already with the force that he’s rutting into your mouth, but when his hand goes into your hair, yanking with all of his might, you hear yourself whine between gags and you’re not even trying to. You’re floating, fuzzy where your boyfriend fucks his cockhead into your mouth - you can’t even consider what’s going on, not too out of it but out of it enough to question what’s actually happening around you. Is this what Minho was talking about before? Subspace?

“Oh, Jesus. Are you feeling fuzzy already, kitty?” He pulls his cock out, tapping the cockhead on your bottom lip. A string of drool attaches his cock back to your mouth and he groans in approval, feline eyes narrowing. “Went down so easy for me, huh? Do you think you can take a little more?”

You’re nodding then, subconsciously, but a slight smile on your face. You want more. You need more. You need his piss, wherever on your body that he deems acceptable - it’s like he’s marking you as his territory. It’s such a primitive act that gets you more than just hot under the collar. If he pisses on you, or in you, it’s as if he sees you as an object that’s beneath him, not worth anything more than his piss. 

“Good,” He muses, and then his hand is forming a tight ring around his length. It’s throbbing, long and thick where it protrudes from his groin with drops of pearlescent precum, and he presses it past your lips again with a small sigh. “I’ve gotta take a piss, kitty cat. I want you to swallow it all for me, and then you can have some milk in that pussy for being good. How’s that?”

You can’t reply, because he’s already bouncing your head on his shaft. He’s resorted to pulling you up and down on his shaft by your hair this time, not grinding his hips rhythmically into the hot, wet cavern you’ve provided. 

“You know, I really thought you’d say no to this,” How the fuck is his voice calm right now? “But then I realised that of course you’d be into it. My filthy little fucking urinal.”

You moan loudly around his shaft. Minho chuckles, and then he’s pulling back again, your throat abused and aching at the alleviation of pressure. His cockhead stays at the entrance of your mouth, and he drops a hand from your hair to pump it a few times, raising an eyebrow at you.

“It’s coming,” He warns. “Are you ready? Are you ready for my piss, filthy bitch?”

You moan, nodding, and when your tongue lolls out of your mouth, Minho lets out a loud groan. It’s primal, and you watch silently as he shakes his head and flutters his eyes closed to try and gain some control of himself. He runs his finger over the slit of his cockhead, and then he’s pushing the tip past your lips again and - oh. 

His piss begins leaking out of his tip, a slow and steady stream that tastes surprisingly a lot like you expected. It’s purely Minho, raw and unfiltered, and you whine and whimper and let him fill your mouth up with his piss. It feels filthy, your pussy positively dripping through your panties and onto the floor by now. The stream floods down your throat even as you continue to gulp it down greedily, and you allow your hands to finally find purchase on his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscle. He allows it, his hands both moving back to your hair to bob you on his tip just a little to get the rest of his piss out.

Minho pulls out of your mouth with a soft noise, his eyes staring down at you almost menacingly. You dip your tongue into his piss-slit once more, moaning at the remnants of the taste, and then you’re whining, loud and un-muffled. 

“Minho,” You say, voice high and needy. You feel as though you want to say so much, you want to beg so much, but nothing is coming out of your mouth. You’re so fucking turned on you feel like you could die. “P-Please. Please, please. I can’t, I can’t, please, please-”

He positively growls. You’re pulled up by two hands underneath your armpits and thrown onto the bed less than unceremoniously, his body sidling up next to you. He’s kicked his trousers off, you notice, body warm and firm next to you.

“Was it that good? Dirty little thing,” He hums, tongue licking one fat stripe up your neck. “C’mere. Let me taste it on you.”

Minho’s lips are firm against yours, and his hands are anything but gentle as he slides them down your body. It’s like he’s igniting you with electricity, every area of skin that he touches feeling warm and too sensitive. His lips trail down your neck, leaving another trail of fire behind them. You’re pliant, letting him pull you by your hair and your throat into his dominating, overwhelming kisses.

His fingers reach your panties, and his finger dips underneath the waistband. You gasp, holding your breath and wishing, praying that he’ll push his whole hand into your underwear, but he simply pulls his finger back with a small amused puff of air. 

“Hnnfg, Minho, Minho, please, I don’t, I can’t-“

Minho leans over you more then, his eyes dark and half-lidded when he stares into yours. His gaze is all-consuming, but there’s a slight hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “Jesus, kitty. Be quiet,” His voice is low, amused, until all signs of a smile drop from his face upon his fingers finally delving into your underwear. His forearm obscures your vision, muscled and veiny, but you can feel the way your wetness immediately drenches his fingertips. His eyes flicker from your face to your core in awe, lips slightly parted. “Fuckin- shit. Jagi, tell me this is a joke. You’re fucking drenched.”

You are. His fingers smear around in your wetness, spreading it all around your folds. He drags his middle and ring finger down to your hole, wet and sloppy, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You’re not sure you could talk even if you wanted to.

Minho simply smiles that toothy smile that you love, eyes crinkling. You’re confused - he’s being nice - until he’s shoving both fingers into you at once. It was a stretch you hadn't been prepared for, and you jolt with a squeal, hands going up to grip onto his forearm. 

“Do you remember what I said before, jagi?” He muses, fingers curling up into that spot that makes you whine. You do whine, legs thrashing around and toes curling against the sheets. “If you have any in there, I’m fucking having it. I want you to piss all over my cock before I fuck you with it, remember? I want you to treat you like the dirty little thing you are.”

You nod, brain still fuzzy and way too overwhelmed. Your pussy squelches loudly around his digits, and his spare hand wraps around your throat in a dangerous grip. It’s not too hard, but definitely there, and you whimper in approval. 

Your eyes roll back into your head at the pace he sets against your g-spot, and after a brief, tight squeeze, Minho removes his hand from your throat in favour of using two fingers on your clit along with his harsh fingering. His arm is curled underneath your waist in a position that must be painful to him, but you ignore it in favour of your own pleasure. 

You feel like you could scream, and you do let out some strangled noise that sounds nothing at all like you. Just when you think it can’t get any worse - or any better, actually - he slides another finger in, stretching you out with three of his digits. You’re dripping down onto his knuckles and you wail, starting to hump against his hand. You’re going to cum embarrassingly quickly.

“You better be fucking thinking of asking for permission, bitch,” Minho hisses in your ear. You moan in response, nodding. Of course you’ll ask. Something about your boyfriend just makes you want to be good. You want to obey him so he continues to give you such nice things. “You don’t make the decisions. I'm the one fucking that hole with my fingers right now, I'll be the one who says you can cum.”

His fingers thrust into you faster, if it was possible, and you thrash around. The movement brings Minho’s cock against your thigh, and you gasp at the realisation that he’s next to you, naked, in all his glory. Your fingernails still dig painfully into his forearm, but he doesn’t seem phased. “Minho, Minho- I’m gon’- please, please, please, I wanna cum, let me come, it hurts, I-“

“Oh, I know, I know. It just feels too good, doesn’t it? You can’t even fucking control yourself, writhing around like that,” He groans, eyes fixated on your face. You know your expression is screwed up in pleasure, eyes watering from the feeling of his fingers inside of you. His fingers begin to slide around on your clit rather than provide any direct pressure due to how wet you’re getting, but you still hump against the sensation with gratitude. You’d never have anything other than gratitude when Minho’s being so nice like this. “You’re behaving like a fucking whore. Beg me for it. Beg me to let a fucking whore like you cum all over my fingers, tell me how good it feels.”

He starts kissing up your neck again with the open-mouthed, wet movements, and you feel like you’re about to burst. Just a little more. Just a little more, and you can, you just have to will your brain to speak. “I-I love sir's fingers, fuck, I love when sir fingers me like this- fuck, sir I'm gonna- can't hold it- I, hnng, I can’t, I don’t- pleasepleaseplease-”

Minho pulls away from your neck with an alarmed little snort. “Sir? God, you are far gone,” He points out, but then he’s pinching your clit meanly with his fingers. It makes you hump his hand a little faster and whine a little louder. It’s quiet for a beat, and then he’s sighing as if he’s annoyed. You swear you catch him rolling his eyes through your blurry vision. “Okay, fine. Go on then, if you want to cum so badly. Cum.”

With one word, you feel like your whole world is falling apart. A gush of wetness bursts from you and all over the bed, probably soaking Minho too. Your ears are ringing and you can feel the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall, fat streaks of wetness painting your skin. His fingers don’t slow, but he’s groaning in your ear now, coaching you along. He pulls his fingers out, rubbing over your clit with a wet hand that only made you let out another gush everywhere. You were sure you'd screamed.

You wail and thrash through your orgasm, and then you’re panting, body dropping back onto the bed. You don’t register Minho groaning, licking his fingers clean - you only realise he’s moved when he’s on top of you, yanking your soaking wet underwear down your legs and finally unclasping your bra. Your hands go above your head, pliant and willing, letting him take control. You’re fucked dumb by now, anyway. You’d be no use.

“If you had all that in there for me, you have some piss in there,” He muses, and you whine, shaking your head.

“D’nt need to pee, Min,” You insist, head lolling back on the sheets. You’re pliant, and Minho grabs your chin with his hand, making you face him. His ears are burning a shade of delectable pink, the flush travelling over his chest and making him look almost embarrassed. You know this state of Minho all too well, though. He’s so horny he feels like he’s about to explode.

“You do,” He responds, quick as a flash. You whimper as he presses his cockhead into your folds, just barely teasing the ruddy, flushed tip at your hole. Your hands move to grip onto the sheets next to your head, and just when you’re sure he’s going to put it in, Minho leans down, and then his hand is pressing on the bottom of your stomach. You wail, shaking your head. Minho chuckles knowingly. “You need to piss, don’t you?”

You do. Embarrassingly quickly, just from him pressing on your bladder. “I- it’ll make a mess, Min, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I want it to make a fucking mess,” He scoffs, pressing harder. He continues to drag his cock through your sopping wet folds with his other hand, his feline eyes staring at you with a renewed fire burning behind them. He’s daring you to disobey. You would never disobey him. “I want everything you have to give me. Piss all over my cock. Do it.”

You clench your thighs, stomach tensing. It doesn’t take much, only a slight rubbing of Minho’s hand on your tummy and you’re pissing. The stream erupts from you in a messy spurt, and Minho groans, pumping his cock to coat it in your mess. You whine, trying to shift your hips to catch his cock inside of you, but the mess you’re making ensures that it’s too slippery to do so.

“Stay still, you’ll get it in a second,” Minho mumbles, hand tightening around the head of his cock. It’s substantially lubed now, but he still continues to pump it, hand easing up on your stomach. Something about it has your mouth watering, staring at his cock and wondering how it tastes. Maybe he’ll let you suck it clean next time, let you taste his cock mixed with your own piss. “That’s it, kitty. Get sir’s cock nice and wet with your piss. Dirty little thing.”

When the stream finally finishes, you shift against the sheets, soaking wet and definitely a lot more aroused than you were previously. There’s still only one thing on your mind. “Can- can I have it now, please, please?”

Minho nods, his cheeks blazing red. He’s losing his composure. “Yeah. God, yeah, kitty. You can have it, c’mere,” He sighs, finally pushing the head of his cock inside of you. It slides inside easily with the wetness of your pussy and the mess you’d made on him, his thick shaft stretching you out and making you moan out for him. You catch sight of Minho’s eyes rolling back into his head, a long, drawn out noise leaving his lips. “Fuck, this is so fucking dirty. You’re filthy, letting me do this.”

No. You’re not, are you? Are you dirty? “Filthy?” You question, completely in bliss at the feeling of him finally inside you. You’ll be filthy if it means he’ll fuck you. Minho chuckles, and then his hips start to move, a sinuous grind against yours. The noises your pussy is making are beyond debauched, wet, slapping sounds from how soaking wet you are. You whine, bucking your hips up, and Minho lets you, gripping your hips to pull you off of the mattress.

“I’m gonna go harder, okay? I want you to take it for me, all of it,” His voice is close, leaning down to whisper it against the skin of your neck. You nod eagerly, and he pulls your thighs up to rest your ankles on his shoulders. The change in position has his cock hitting you deeper and you gasp, fingers moving to grip on his biceps. He sits back slightly, pulling you closer to him, and then he’s pounding into you. With little to no buildup, you can’t help but squeal, your pussy gushing around his fat length. “You love this, don’t you? My cock, covered in your piss, stretching your little cunt out. You love being filthy for me.”

“Hhnnfg, hhng, Min, Min, Min, you made me pee, you-”

Minho scoffs, hand threading into your hair. He wraps your hair around his fist and pulls, bent half over you while he pounds your pussy into oblivion. “Don’t make stupid fucking excuses for yourself. I can see it in your eyes, you love being like this for me.” 

You whine, tears brimming in your eyes again uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but just lay there, pliant and gripping onto his biceps for him to stretch your pussy out with his veiny fucking cock. It feels almost too good, too overwhelming. The ridges of his shaft are pressing against your walls, causing a delectable friction that has you clenching down on every outwards motion from him. It’s as if your pussy doesn’t want him to leave, and you don’t want him to leave, pulling him close by his arms every time he thrusts inside of you. 

Minho pushes your thighs apart, and then he’s bending you into a sort of mating press. Your legs rest on his upper biceps and his body folds you in half for him, making you whine at the stretch on your muscles. You’re loud, embarrassingly so, little “ah, ah, ah”’s leaving your mouth with every thrust. The change in position allows him to hit your cervix with his length, long and throbbing inside of you, and you’re only louder and more pathetic for him. 

“Can you hear that, kitty cat?” He whispers, and you hold your breath. Once you’ve stopped making so much noise, you can hear it - the sound of your pussy is even louder, wet and messy and when you look down, his cock is soaking with you. With your piss or your slick, you’re not sure, but it has you clenching down deliciously anyway. “I’m fucking your own piss into you, and you’re whining like a little bitch.”

You can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. Your previous slight fuzziness has morphed into full blown floating, and you think you’re crying, but you’re not sure. All you can hear is your own noises, loud and desperate while he ensures your pussy never forgets the shape of his cock. “Ah, ah, I don’t- sir, I don’t, I can’t, I don’t know- ah, oh, I can’t-”

“Ah, fucking hell,” Minho hisses, gritting his teeth. You watch in disappointment as he pulls his cock out of you, forming a tight ring around the base with his fingers. “I need to cum inside you. I need to give you your milk, kitty cat, c’mon. Flip over for me.” 

He tells you to do it, but helps you anyway. You feel his hands go to your hips to flip you over, and then you’re face down, and some part of you finds the strength to push your hips up to present your pussy for him. But, milk? You’ve been good enough for that?

He sinks back inside you, his cock slick and fat and too much for your little pussy. “There you go, jagi. Biiig stretch, feel it,” He moans, and you push your hips back on him easily. In this position, your lips are parted and you can feel yourself drooling up a puddle on the sheets. It adds to the mess, filthy with piss and slick and sweat, and you want Minho to lick it all up and spit it in your mouth. He immediately resumes his punishing pace, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust and hitting that delicious spot inside you so well. “Fuckin’ tight pussy, ah, it’s so good.” 

“H- haa, Minho, have I been good?” You question, eyes blurry and bottom lip slick with your own spit. Minho groans, deep and loud, reverberating through your whole body. He knows you need reassurance, and he nods, a little smile on his face despite his lust-filled, half-lidded eyes.

“You’ve been so good. So good I’m giving you my cum, yeah? Gonna breed that little pussy, filled it with your piss already, needs my cum now,” He’s babbling, which is a sure sign that he’s close - but you can’t even fathom it in your state. “Little girl, kitty cat, so good for me, c’mere.”

You don’t move, but Minho slinks one hand around your hip to rub at your clit. The added pleasure has you jolting with a whine, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air at your reaction. His fingers slide around your clit wet and imprecise, but it’s enough to have you hurtling towards your second orgasm. His cockhead slams against your g-spot, bordering on painful, but the sensation only adds to the throes of bliss he has you tumbling through.

“Min, Min, Min, it’s- ‘s so good, so good, so big, so- Min, Min, I g’ta-”

“You can cum whenever, jagi. Give it to me, I want it,” His voice is higher, more desperate, and you nod eagerly. He sidles over your back, his sweaty chest pressed to your skin, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours.

It’s less of a kiss and more of a messy exchange of spit and breathing into each other's mouths. Minho’s tongue slides against yours as he continues to rub messy circles around your clit, and before you know it, you’re cumming around his cock with a sharp gasp of pleasure against his lips. He swallows your noises, finally engulfing your mouth with his, and you moan and sigh freely through gushing all over his length, the electric feeling making your toes curl.

Minho envelops your hair tightly with his spare hand, thrusting harder and faster, his breathing becoming ragged as he approaches his climax. With a broken whine, you feel his cum fill you up, thick and hot and heavy.

He flops on top of you with a sigh, his body weight a welcome presence for you. You ignore the feeling of the sheets beneath you in favour of closing your eyes and humming contentedly. You’re still floating, but it’s calmer now, softer. It feels like you’re on a cloud. “So good, Min.” 

“Yeah?” Minho grins, his hand now stroking softly through your hair in favour of yanking on it. “You did so good for me, jagi. You were so, so good, made me cum so hard.”

“You made me cum hard, too,” You respond, opening one eye to see his face over your shoulder. His cheeks are flushed, hair sweaty and floppy over his eyes, but he has a blissed out smile on his face. When he catches sight of you looking at him, he smiles, and the sight of his bunny teeth has your heart singing. How can he look so cute after fucking you like that? Before you can say anything else, you yawn, and Minho giggles. “‘M sleepy.”

“Bath first, jagi,” He coos, kissing your hairline. “My sweet girl. Let’s get you nice and clean and then we’ll nap.”

“Mm, okay,” Minho hops off of you and you stretch out leisurely like a cat, your body sticky and defiled. You hear him tinkering around the room behind you, humming a tune to himself, and you smile fondly. “Love you, Min.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

#juno's fics ♡ #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee minho fanfiction #lee know x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #skz smut #PISS!

[stranger-things-trash]

“Eddie what the fuck are doing in my house?” Steve looked at the man laying across his couch, eating a bowl of his cereal, in his house.

“Morning sweetheart,” Eddie responded, his eyes glued to the T.V. “I left the cereal out for you.”

“Wow thanks,” He responded sarcastically, walking down the rest of the stairs to the kitchen. He did indeed find the open box of cereal and bowl sitting on the counter waiting for him. He poured himself a bowl and walked back over to the couch, his boyfriend’s eyes still glued to the T.V. “So you gonna tell me why you’re here or just ignore me for…what are you even watching?”

“Ghostbusters.”

“...I don’t own that movie. Did you bring a movie to watch at my house?”

“Maybe,” Eddie smiled smugly.

“Move,” Steve muttered, shoving Eddie’s legs off of the couch so he could sit. However, Eddie simply moved his legs onto Steve’s lap instead. The two sat in silence for a while, Eddie enjoying the movie and Steve enjoying watching Eddie. The two briefly made eye contact as Eddie turned to look at Steve, not realizing that his boyfriend was already looking at him. Steve’s face turned bright red as he quickly looked away.

“Come here dork,” Eddie laughed, reaching up to grab the collar of his shirt, abandoning the half eaten bowl of cereal on the coffee table.

The two shared a kiss, short and simple as neither were in a good position to take it any further. Still holding onto Steve’s collar, Eddie repositioned himself so he was sitting and pulled Steve back into the kiss.

This time Steve was the one to pull away, “While I love you, I would like to know how you got here,” He said softly.

“Your house is always unlocked, like, anyone can just walk on in here anytime they want.” He laughed.

Before he had a chance to respond he was pulled back into the kiss. Steve's hands found themselves tangled in Eddie's curly brown hair, who had repositioned himself once again so he was straddling Steve's waist. Little to no space between them as the two enjoyed each other's embrace.

"What the fuck?" A voice from behind yelled.

The two quickly pulled apart and looked to see who the voice belonged to.

"Hey Dustin," Eddie chuckled nervously as Steve buried his head into Eddie's Hellfire shirt.

"Please tell me you're both wearing pants before I walk any closer."

"Relax Henderson, we're wearing pants," Steve responded, still holding onto Eddie's shirt.

"Well Harrington's wearing pants,"

"Don't listen to Eddie," Steve pushed him off as Eddie laughed to himself, "Why are you here?"

"That's unimportant, what's more important is," Dustin gestured to them, "whatever this is."

"I was making out with my boyfriend and I would like to continue doing that so if you would lea-"

"Boyfriend?! You're already at the boyfriend stage? And neither of you told me?"

"It wasn't exactly, any of your business Dustin," Steve replied tiredly.

“I told you when I got a girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend? Since when?” Eddie questioned, only to be left without an answer.

"And I thought you had a thing for Nancy?"

"Jesus why does everyone think I have a thing for Nance!"

"Cause you're so insistent on telling her you don't have a thing for Robin." Eddie, who was now laying across Steve's lap, reminded.

"Okay you are not involved in this conversation." He looked down at his boyfriend who had a smug look on his face.

"He does have a good point though,"

"Well now you know I really don't have a thing for Nancy! I have a thing for Eddie!"

"Aw Steve I'm flattered,"

Steve gave him an annoyed look before turning his attention back to Dustin. He was still taking in the scene in front of him, completely forgetting about his original reason for coming over.

“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t already know,” Eddie thought out loud, “I mean, you’re really fucking smart. Probably will graduate before me.”

“Eddie don’t say that you're gonna graduate.”

“Haven’t been able to yet sweetheart.” He laughed.

“I should probably go now,” Dustin said as he already started walking back to the door.

“Dustin wait-” Steve moved Eddie off his lap and followed the kid to the door. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this. If it makes you feel any better we haven’t really told anyone.”

“You don’t sound sure of that.” He remarked.

“You wanna try keeping secrets from Nancy and Robin? It’s goddamn impossible.”

“Just promise me the next time you get a boyfriend or girlfriend, you tell me.”

“Okay fine I promise,” Steve sighed and shook Dustin’s hand in agreement.

“You’ll have to get rid of me first!” Eddie, who had resumed eating his cereal, yelled from the couch.

“Can’t you see we are having a moment?” Steve yelled back.

Dustin laughed and the two performed their handshake as Eddie watched from afar, chuckling to himself as Steve pretended to die as Dustin stabbed him. Fucking dorks he thought to himself.

And with that, Steve’s kid left, leaving the two alone again. “Was it just me or did he take that really well?”

“I mean, the kid’s seen worse,” Eddie reminded as Steve sat back down on the couch, “His two older guy friends kissing is the least of his worries.”

“That’s…that’s fair.” He agreed. Eddie smiled and sat up to kiss Steve on the cheek before leaning his head on his shoulder and interlocking their hands. “Love you Eds,” He smiled softly.

“Yeah yeah, love you too,” Eddie turned away to hide his blushing face, “Let’s just-let’s just keep watching the movie.”

#just wanted to post one of my old steddie oneshot :) #steddie fandom #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie oneshot #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson

[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. 

#haitani brothers #haitani x reader #haitani ran imagines #ran haitani #ran haitani x y/n #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani scenarios #ran scenarios #ran fluff #ran #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #ran smut #rindou haitani #ran x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader

[misc-obeyme]

Hi! I hope you're well. I'm sending you a request for Headcaons for Simeon, if it's still possible, rather Hurt/Comfort on the theme that Simeon's become human. I loved the text you wrote for him for the 500 followers event with the word Fear. I really wanted to get into the fic to give him a hug and reassure him. Take care of yourself and have a nice day!

Hi there, anon!

Oh wow, I kinda forgot all about that little scene I wrote! It's right here in case anybody would like to read it. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

So okay, I really tried to do this theme justice. I have a lot of feelings about Simeon and him becoming human. I hope it turned out okay! I think I could write quite a bit on this theme and never tire of it. There's just so much potential.

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Simeon on becoming human

Warnings: spoilers for season four of OG

Simeon will never forget how it felt when he became human. The reassuring warmth of his angelic power dissipated, leaving him feeling empty and incomplete. Throughout the many years of his existence, that power was always within him. It defined him, heralding him as an angel, giving him the means to survive in all three worlds - places where magic and demons also thrived. The second that power left him, it was replaced by an endless barrage of questions. Who was he without it? Who was he without his wings? What did it even mean to be human? Would he ever feel like he knew himself again?

He can't tell you. Whenever he looks into your eyes, he thinks about sharing this new truth with you. And yet every time, he holds back. He's too full of the need to protect you from the burden of it. It's the only way he has to protect you. Once he could watch over you, he could be your guardian angel. Now all he could do was keep his secrets.

He can tell that you're aware that something has changed. He wants to confide in you, but just thinking about speaking to you about it makes his gut twist. He's sure some of the others already know. He's noticed how Solomon and Lucifer seem to be watching out for him more than usual. Will you catch on? Will you guess what has happened without him having to say it? Is that better or worse?

Simeon had given up so much to stay in the Celestial Realm when Lucifer and his brothers fell. Deliberately standing on the sidelines so he wouldn't be ousted himself, but unable to join the fight on the side of the angels he cared so deeply about. A demotion to archangel was only a small sting in comparison to the guilt of knowing he had left Lucifer and the others to fall without him. This time he couldn't stay out of it. This time he had made the choice to help Lucifer. This time it had cost him more than just his angelic rank. Without his wings, he could never go back to the Celestial Realm. He had lost more than just his understanding of himself. He had lost his home, too.

Simeon thinks perhaps he should feel guilty. Perhaps he should be ashamed. But though he maintains his calm and collected exterior, inside he knows that he would make the same choice a million times over. And beneath that there boils a secret rage. His choice saved the worlds, his choice kept you safe. Despite everything, Simeon knows he did the right thing. He did it for you, but he did it for the state of the three worlds, too. Maybe he deserves this punishment, but he can't bring himself to regret his decision. Every time he sees your smile, his conviction strengthens.

You learn the truth eventually, of course. And when you do, Simeon is blown away when he sees your eyes fill with the deepest love. He's baffled by your reaction. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Disappointment? Confusion? Outrage? And yet, you're all softness and warmth. You encompass him, a light he didn't realize he was missing until that very moment.

It takes some time. Simeon has to learn what it means for him to be human now. He has to find his purpose again, find himself. You stay by his side, a steady presence, a gentle comfort, and a reminder of what a human can be. You're stronger than him now, protecting him where he can longer protect you. And yet, he finds he doesn't mind. You're an inspiration to him, MC. You are something special, something he can never become, but perhaps he can learn to be something new, too.

A day comes when Simeon looks at you and realizes that you have filled the empty hole where his angelic self once was. Your smile, your patience, your endless love, how you accept him no matter what. And he sees that he would rather have you than all the angelic power in the Celestial Realm. He had been confused and frightened for so long, not knowing his place in the world any longer. It was an ache so wide within him he didn't think he could ever move past it. Now he sees he hasn't lost his home. It's always been right here, with you.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me spoilers #spoilers #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #obey me simeon #om simeon #simeon obey me #obey me simeon x reader #om simeon x reader #simeon obey me x reader #obey me x reader #obey me simeon x mc #om simeon x mc #misc cozy comforts #misc writes

[just-my-type-x]

Christmas colby request!! Maybe where you host a Christmas dinner party with some friends and when they leave you cuddle by the tree and watch movies?? Could be an imagine or a blurb whatever you prefer 😍

Home Alone

The loud voices of our friends can be heard from the other side of the house. I giggle while taking the presents from my wardrobe, handing a few bags to Colby.

"I can't understand how all these bags fit in there. You have clothes for two people", he laughs and i push him playfully, aware that he doesn't have empty hands to return the action.

"It took some time, but i managed", i exhale when i get out of the wardrobe, exhausted by moving clothes around to get the bags out.

We get downstairs and surprise our friends with the presents. They all cheer, but also remain shocked, because we agreed to only make Secret Santa and no other additional gifts.

"But whyyy? We haven't gotten you anything else", Kat comes and hugs me from the side. I hug her back, only holding 2 bags in my hand.

"You two are wonderful, but my arms are killing me", Colby's voice is heard from behind us and we're quick to separate, laughing. "We thought we would make this Christmas a little bit more meaningful and add some of our own gifts for you, since this is mine and y/n's first Christmas together.", Colby smiles and i give him a quick peck on the cheek before sharing the bags to each of its owners.

"There's no way! I think I've been looking at this jacket for months! They were always sold out", Sam exclaims while checking the jacket out and trying it on. "You are insane, thank you!", he hugs us and Colby and i look satisfied at one another.

.

.

The party comes to an end, Sam and Kat giving us a helping hand when the other guests left. I wash the last two plates in the sink and dry my hands on a towel. Colby's arms wrap around my waist, pulling me at his chest. His head lowers and kisses my temple and then rests it on my shoulder.

"We're finally alone. It's so quiet now", we chuckle and we rock our bodies slowly on the spot, left and right, even tho there's no music playing in the background. It's just how we act when we're relaxed.

"It was really nice tonight.", i smile and turn my head to look at him. He nods and we lean in to kiss each other, the softness of his lips making my whole body warm. "Let's watch something. And i already know what", i smirk and pull him by the hands, towards the living room. We sit down on the extended couch, both of us already wearing our matching Christmas pj set. I turn on the tv and play Home Alone, being the absolute best Christmas movie, at least in my opinion, because Colby always brags about it. He rolls his eyes at me and laughs, wrapping his arms around me and getting closer to me. We put the blanket on us and i giggle when the intro of the movie finishes and i see the iconic opening scene.

I start caressing Colby's arm, giving it a few kisses and bites from time to time. He kisses the top of my head and plays with my hair, tickling me every time i bite him too hard.

"oh, c'mon! You cannot be such a bad parent and forget one of your kids at home!", he brags and i throw another popcorn flower in my mouth

"My families have so many kids i wonder how this never happened to them", i say really meaning that and Colby laughs

"We won't make that many, then", i turn my head to face him and i see his face all red and eye wide. "I mean what?"

"Colby?", i manage to say, my smile growing big. "You see, uhm, such a long future with me?", i turn my whole body so i could face him properly. His arm rests on my hips while the other one holds his head.

"Yes. I have all the reasons in the world to do that. You're amazing, i spend the most important holiday with literally the love of my life. This is perfect. You made Christmas perfect and i couldn't have asked for more.", he rubs his nose against mine and i cup his cheeks, bringing him closer to me to kiss him. Colby brings my body closer and i wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him.

"You made Christmas feel like a holiday again. And i love you so much", my face is hidden in the crook of his neck and i place a quick kiss on there.

"Oh my God, y/n", he hugs me even tighter, his smile hurting his cheeks. "I love you so much"

"Has this toothbrush been approved by the American Dental Association?", we both laugh hearing Kevin on the tv and i turn around to watch the movie.

"Merry Christmas, baby" he whispers

"Merry Christmas, Colbs", i whisper back, holding him by the arm he has around me.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #sam and colby #sam and colby imagine

[creatingnikki]

I sit there across you in the café that we usually hang out at writing you a letter. You're leaving the city. Yes, that doesn't mean that you are leaving my life. But leaving is still leaving. And so I have to write you a letter, I want to. But life has been chaotic and heavy and I didn't get the time to do this before meeting you now. All I could do was grab my letter writing supplies and stuff them in my bag as I left home tonight to come see you. So once I reach, I ask 15 minutes of you to write the letter in real time. And once I am done putting it in the envelope I realize I don't have a sticker to seal it the way I usually do and you say, 'wait a minute' and reach for your wallet.

You are giggling and I begin to giggle too even though I don't know what it's going to be. But it's always been that way with you. It's light, it's laughter, and it's warmth. Always? Well, a big chunk anyway. I smile and giggle and laugh in anticipation of smiling and giggling and laughing.

You remove a band aid from your wallet and then we giggle some more. I take it. Of course, I do. With you, I'll let myself do such things that make me forget that I am 26. Or that perhaps let me be without having to be something else. I begin to unwrap the band aid and you start recording me. The whole thing becomes a funny little sweet moment and an analogy of this band aid signifying healing between us. After all, we have recently reconnected after months of trying to be strangers.

I say this is all so poetic. I've said it before. I say it all the time. I view my life and life in general through the lens of poetry and literature and books. Everything is a scene from a story. A few minutes later another such moment is shared and before I can say anything you say, 'this is so cinematic'. That's when you make the observation and say, everything you call poetic I call cinematic. And that very observation and the articulation of that observation as we begin to leave the café post midnight is poetic to me.

Poetic or cinematic, whatever we were, whatever we are, I'm glad we crossed paths and attempted healing. This is a goodbye, not the goodbye. From the minute we met, you have been helping me fight my cognitive distortions. Why? Because you are healthy and normal. All I have wanted this year are normal experiences and normal people. Normal does not mean all good and smooth sailing. To me, it only means things not blowing out of proportion or going bat shit crazy. Things not resembling the arc of a book or a movie.

I've been consciously realizing lately how seeing my life and myself from the lens of a story and being the mc is not helpful. It gives my life this fanciful flavour and adds whimsy but with that comes unnecessary plot twists and agony.

"Normal" can also be poetic/cinematic. I don't need to be an unreliable narrator for that or let wild, vicious people in my life. I don't have to take whacky decisions and put up with things for character development. My life can be normal — light, full of laughter, and warmth. Without it having to be blindingly bright, headache-inducing laughter, and scorching warmth.

Thank you. Thank you for helping me come to that realization. I'm glad you exist.

#thankful and blessed #poeticstories #writerscreed #abstractcommunity #twc poetry #words and quotes #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #cafe aesthetic #cafe #goodbye #friends and lovers #for the plot #character development #poetic #spilled ink #poetsandwriters #writerblr #warmth #life is not a movie #but it can be cinematic #and poetic #2023 october #20 something #creatingnikki

[gaybananabread]

hii! for the tickletober prompts, how about lee dipper with day 12? like the ler (they can be whoever you see fit!) knows/discovers he is really weak to them so they get him. hope you're doing well!

TickleTober Day 12 - Nibbles/Bites

Thank you! I had a helluva time picking a ler for this, but I think Stan fits best. I need to write for him more anyways. This idea ironically happened less than 10 minutes after I finally chose Stan. My brain is weird like that (TvT). I hope you have a fun spooky season, Enjoy!

Lee: Dipper

Ler: Stan

Summary: Dipper is stressing out over the summer spooky season. Stan decides he needs a visit from a special kind of monster.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Once again, the Gravity Falls Summerween store opened its doors. The odd tradition began again for the year, residents joyful as they picked out candies and decided on costumes. Well, every resident but one.

A certain brown-haired, blue-hatted tween was sitting in the Mystery Shack gift shop, biting at his fingers. Ever since the whole "Summerween Trickster" fiasco, Dipper had been wary of the town's strange holiday. He would never forget the scene of Soos eating that thing…ugh.

Stan was taking inventory, making sure nobody had nicked any of his moderately overpriced merchandise. His eyes eventually drifted over to his worrisome great-nephew. That kid would worry himself into the ground if Stan let him…

"Hey picks-a-lot, those cuticles taste good?" He walked over to the teen, flicking the bill of his hat. The older man didn't mean anything malicious by it. He's just unapologetically mean sometimes. Dipper was used to his Grunkle's antics, brushing the comment off.

Dipper tucked his hands in his jacket, looking down at the register. "Sorry Stan. Just thinking about…stuff." He hadn't realized he'd been biting his fingers again. It was an old habit, one he wasn't keen on picking back up. Yet there it was.

The uneasy expression on his face was barely hidden. Stan didn't really know what to do about the kid's nerves. Normally, he'd sick Mabel on him. The tween was out with Candy and Grenda, so that wasn't an option. What to do, what to do…

"Uh…look kid. You want the rest of your shift off? I've got the shop covered, and you look pretty dead." He gave it to the kid straight. Dipper looked like he was one loud noise away from snapping, his fraying nerves and general high-strung mindset on overdrive. Stan could handle the almost empty gift shop, Tuesdays were always slow.

Dipper nodded, hopping off the creaky cashier stool stool. "Yeah, please. Thanks, Grunkle Stan." He lumbered up the steps to the attic, gently closing the door to his shared room behind him.

What was Stan gonna do with that kid?

-

The next few days weren't any better. With the rapidly approaching local holiday, Dipper's nerves only grew. Mabel didn't really notice, too enamored by costume ideas and trying to figure out Waddles's measurements.

He didn't really know the absolute cause of his worry. Was it the chance of Mabel getting hurt? The possibility of another garbage candy monster? The fact that he still can't unsee Soos eating his way out of the monster? All are good guesses. He just wished he could pinpoint which one it was.

His antsy demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed by the other Mystery Shack residents. Soos had tried to get him to play some arcade games at the mall, but he just wasn't up for it. Wendy had little to no luck, her attempts to get him to loosen up going nowhere. It was up to Stan…and he had no idea what to do.

He had tried things that worked before, offering him an extra break and listening to his rants about the Journals. Dipper just wasn't up for infodumping at the moment, and he just got lost in thought on his breaks. On the morning of SummerWeen, Stan finally threw in the towel. He did the only thing he had left; asking Mabel what to do.

-

When he opened the door, Stan was met with Mabel trying to put a superhero suit on Waddles. She was dressed in similar attire, her cape dragging behind her. "Oh, hey Grunkle Stan! You come to see the best heros this side of the Falls kick some butt?"

Stan chuckled, shaking his head. He felt a bit bad for the pig, he doubted those tights were comfortable. Better Waddles than him, though. "Nah, I'll be quick. What should I do to get your brother to loosen up? Kid's been freakin' all week."

Mabel's eyes widened as he said this, her brain quickly piecing together the signs she hadn't noticed. "Crud…he has been anxious." She fidgeted with her hair, giving the pig a moment to nibble on his cape. "I normally talk him down, but if that hasn't worked…maybe make him laugh?"

Stan sighed as she said this. He considered himself a pretty funny guy, but his humor normally made Dipper groan or question his existence. Not the best for making Dipper laugh, though it always gets a chuckle out of himself

His thoughts wandered to the times he had made the kid snicker, landing on a few well-timed zings and one-liners. The last was when he had been messing around with Dipper in the gift shop. He poked his great-nephew's side, and he squealed. He hadn't done anything then, but now? Oh, it's perfect.

"Hey Mabel…your dorky brother is stupid ticklish, right?" She nodded, a smile slowly forming on her face as she figured out her Grunkle's intentions. Waddles nudged her arm, showing off the lovely slobber stain in his cape fabric. "Silly guy, now I gotta redo your cape! Grunkle Stan, do you think you can get Dipper to be less Dipper-ish by 6:30? Our costumes this year are super, heheh"

Stan rolled his eyes, his mischievous mind racing with ideas of how to get Dipper back to normal. Well, as normal as the tween gets. "Yeah, alright. If you hear girlish screaming, cheer me on." He shut the door behind him, leaving his grand-niece to her silliness. That kid never fails to make him smile.

-

Dipper was in the living room, a costume hung on the chair in front of him. Mabel's costume idea that summer was super heros, with him being the villain. It was actually kinda cool, with the utility belt of fake gadgets he and Mabel had put together. The only problem was him.

He was worried about putting the costume on. First off, it would mean going out and trick-or-treating with Mabel. Nothing's wrong with it, his brain was just telling him it's childish. There's also the fact that he's worried the Trickster might come back. Black licorice was bad enough before, but now he can't look at a stick without getting shivers. They very easily could've died.

Stan was creeping in the doorway, watching the tween's inner dilemma. If he wanted to be mean, he could've scared the crap out of him. But, showing a shocking amount of restraint, he knocked on the doorway. Stan walked over to him, ruffling the boy's hair. "Anybody home up there?"

Dipper, successfully snapped out of his daze, swatted at his Grunkle's hand. "Stan! Knock it off!" The older man chuckled, pulling his hand away and smirking down at the tween. That look…he knew that look. The look that meant Grunkle Stan was up to absolutely no good. "Stan…?"

He barely gave Dipper time to think before he snatched his great-nephew in his arms. It killed Stan's back, but it was worth it to hear the shocked yelp and protests from the kid. "Put me down! Stan- get off! Mabel!"

Stan flopped down in his recliner, holding Dipper in his lap. No help was coming for the boy. Mabel was in on it, as he quickly learned, and nobody else was at the Shack. It was just him, Stan, and the evil look on the older man's face as he wiggled his fingers. Crud.

"You worry too much, kid. You're gonna have more grays than me, and I put up with all'a you!" Those wiggling fingers were getting a bit too close to his stomach for comfort. Dipper squirmed, but with the way Stan held him, he was trapped. "Always thinkin' about these monsters and crazy creature things. You're so stuck in yer head, you didn't even notice the monster right in front of ya…"

He tazed Dipper's side, making him squeak at the unexpected touch. "Stahan, wait, plehehease-" He was so unbelievably screwed. "The TICKLE MONSTER!" Stan finally put his wiggling fingers on the boy's stomach, clawing and digging into the ticklish area.

Dipper squealed, shoving at his Grunkle's hands and writhing in his lap. His negative and anxious thoughts quickly faded to fuzzy, ticklish surprise. He hadn't expected this from Stan of all people. Mabel, absolutely, but Stan? He didn't really know how to react. "STAHAHAN! WHAHAHAT ARE YOUHU DOHOIHING?!"

"What's it feel like I'm doing, ya goofus? I'm tickling the snot outta ya. Now hold still." He spidered his fingers across his belly, making sure to get a few scratches in his belly button. "GEHEHET OFF! GRUHUNKLE STAHAHAN!"

Dipper kicked his legs, wishing the recliner was bigger. He barely had any room on Stan's lap, his legs nearly hanging off the armrest. Stan had him positioned so that his midsection was almost unprotectable, his arms practically pinned to his sides.

The tickling, as unexpected as it was, wasn't awful. He'd never tell the old man, but he was having a bit of fun. It was nice to let loose, to let his worrisome thoughts melt into giggles and squeaks.

The boy's laughter was, in Stan's eyes, adorable. It was nice to see the nervous kid laugh like that. Thinking of the night to come, he imagined the kids' costumes and candy-grab ideas. Candy...an evil idea bloomed in his mind. An evil, ticklish, awful idea. "I'm getting pretty hungry, Dipper. Might just have a quick snack…" He pulled up Dipper's shirt, waiting for the teen to catch on.

And catch on he did.

"Stahahan- Stan don't! Nonononoho!" Dipper's eyes went wide when he figured out Stan's plan. There's no way he could handle those. The tween desperately tried to get away, kicking out and trying to grab his Grunkle's hands.

His Grunkle easily pinned Dipper's hands, smirking down at him. It was almost too easy. Stan lowered his head, nibbling on his great-nephew's poor belly.

Dipper shrieked.

"NAHAHAHA! GRUHUNKLE STAHAHA- STAHAHAP!" He tossed his head back, kicking and thrashing under the ticklish nibbles. Stan's old man stubble wasn't helping. The scratchy texture made it so much worse.

Stan was enjoying himself. Hearing the kid's laughter reminded him of the stupid things he and his brother would do as kids, the fun they'd have. Before it all went south, they'd do this all the time. The best part was that he knew Dipper didn't mind it.

Just to be a jerk, he started making little "nom" noises as he nibbled the boy's stomach. Dipper twisted and shoved at his head, but Stan wouldn't budge. The tween resisted the urge to hit at Stan's head, instead gripping his silver hair. He didn't tug, but just grabbed on, needing something to do with his hands.

The nibbles traveled across his midsection, going from his stomach to his ribs, then back down to his belly button. Dipper was in stitches, the simple action reducing him to a cackling mess. He could barely think, his mind reeling at the assault on his nervous system. It wasn't bad, but it was mean.

Dipper managed to last for another two minutes before reaching his limit. The boy's laughter had taken on a breathy edge, his thrashing slowed with exhaustion. He patted the top of his Grunkle's head, tapping out.

Just like that, the torturous sensations stopped. Stan chuckled, raising his head and rubbing his great-nephew's midsection to try and ease the phantom tickles. Dipper curled into himself as he giggled out the leftover buzz. "Youhuhu…you suhuck…"

That got him a poke to the side. "Watch it, giggles." And Dipper, not having much of a choice, giggled. Stan let him go with a knowing smirk. The tween quickly slid off his lap, rubbing his sides. The clock read 5:30, just in time for him to get ready. "Your sister wants you dressed in an hour. Don't be late."

He left the room, leaving Dipper alone with his costume. Stan knew it wasn't a permanent fix. The boy was always stressing about something. He just hoped that the playful moment eased his worries for the night. Those kids deserve a good night.

The tween looked over at the suit, a small smile still on his face. The negative thoughts from before were gone, replaced with a light and happy feeling. He picked up the dark fabric, sliding the mask on over his red face. Maybe the night wouldn't be so bad after all…

#day 12 #gf tickle #lee!dipper #ticklish!dipper #ler!stan #ler!stanley #augtickletober2022 #sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle #gravity falls tickle #gravity falls #gf dipper #gf stanley #stanley pines #gravity falls fic

[ryujnn]

► akuma ﾟ｡ ⋆ a photograph without a face.

► chapter summary ﾟ｡ ⋆ closing one chapter in your life means opening the next — starting the first few pages off with gin, tonic and your husband.

► chapter warnings ﾟ｡ ⋆ gojo being flirty. mature language. mature themes if you use a magnifying glass. mentions of death and funerals.

► note ﾟ｡ ⋆ GOJO X READER CONTENT WOO!!! i can’t wait to write their dynamic now that she’s starting a new chapter *cries* i love this series so much. dont forget to send me an ask and lmk how you enjoyed the chapter!

tag list. visual + character board. prev. next.

“Will you be home late, Mrs. Gojo? We’ll have the guard on watch prepare to let you in whenever you arrive.”

You smiled at the lady, bowing slightly to thank her. “Yes, I’ll be home a little later than usual,” Brushing your palms against your black dress, hands shivering just slightly. “If my husband arrives before me, tell him I’m sleeping.”

Not like he’d check anyway. Silly — that’s what it felt like — sneaking in and out of where you lived and making alibi’s. That happens in movies, not marriages.

The lady bows, nodding with your request. She’s not sure what the tension between you were, she’s noticed since you first moved in — newlyweds don’t act or treat each other the way you both do. Is that her business, though? It is not.

“Alrighty,” She sends a warm smile. “I know today’s a rough day. I hate funerals.”

Unaware how to respond, who would even like funerals? All you could muster up was another nod, another small and forced smile, and a wave as you left.

As you exited the entrance, watching your car pull up to escort you to your family home — you’re met with another car, Ichiji to be specific, honking his normal pattern to alert Satoru that he was outside and not waiting fifteen minutes for him again.

With wide eyes, wanting to avoid the man at all costs after the situation last night, you clutch your purse to your chest and run as fast as you could, strapped heels, to your awaiting vehicle. Even with the smallest steps, bag held to your chest to control the movement of your bust and to keep a hold on your purse; the scene was pitiful.

Walk… or Run of Shame to your own vehicle? With nothing to be shameful of? What the hell was this marriage?

Once you were settled in your car, huffing out a breath and tugging your seatbelt on, you prayed and thanked the gods before you that you hadn’t bumped into Gojo, and he hadn’t seen that embarrassing scene.

All the while, your husband had been watching from his window on his side of the house. He’s got a stupid grin on his face, finding the whole thing silly. If you were avoiding him or running late, he wasn’t sure where you were headed, but wherever it was; you must’ve been in a rush.

Cute. He’s been noticing that adjective popping up in his mind whenever he saw you. Even when you didn’t see him catching a glance — he was always watching.

Cute; when you walked into your shared kitchen and spotted your husband with a towel wrapped around his waist, the back of muscles flexing all the scars he had littered on them. He’s never seen you so red..

Cute; whenever you wake up while wiping your eyes, walking diagonally to the bathroom and almost running into the wall.. every morning.

Cute; the way you softened and eased when he arrived as your knight and shining armor around Geto; saving you from the fear of being humiliated in front of your students.

Whatever was in the water, he wanted it out; fast. He has too much going on, has a promise to fulfill and children to look after. He’s gotta try and save his best friend from doing a horrible mistake — and protect Japan of the upcoming war Suguru declared. He doesn’t have time to fall in love with the woman he married.. however that sounded to a persons ear.

But he can care, right? He can care, he can find the things you do cute. Just, not too often. And there goes that honking again — Ichiji! The man’s having a moment here!

You’ve never been to funeral.

The way your clan works, there weren’t funerals unless it was for the head of clans and unfortunately, you weren’t alive when the originator died. Whenever a female baby was born, then unfortunately put to their deaths, they would simply be buried by a guard in a random landfill spot in town.

You’re convinced your mother was only being granted a funeral because she gave birth to another five bearer — two at that. Because she was lucky enough to have kept both kids and died from her condition.

As the people who never spoke to your mother or even cared to check on her condition, only worrying about Ryou and how he’ll become the successor of the clan… they’d take the stand and speak up about her amazing life and how much of an amazing mother she was.

You’ve only seen five percent of the people attending this funeral, and there were over three hundred.

“An amazing healer she was. She healed my son’s foot after our yearly baseball game, the home run Ryou threw was quite the ball.”

“Ryou, I know it must’ve been hard to see and hear about your mothers passing while traveling.”

“Son, your father will teach you what your mother couldn’t finish. All you need is family.”

“My heart aches for you, Ryou.”

Was it mentioned that Ryou Shio sat next to you, his sister, who’s in between her father and brother — front row as if he’s watching a hockey game.. sucking up all the attention?

You quiver. Ryou never even visited your mother while she was sick, only on the yearly athletics. It made you ill knowing he was the only child receiving condolences when you were the one picking your mother off the floor and escorting her to the bathroom. You were the one braiding her hair when she couldn’t do yours or her own anymore. You were bathing and feeding her.

You.

No matter how much she used her healing sorcery and technique, it was never enough — it would never heal her.

Once your third brothers wife’s cousin, who didn’t even know your given name was Shio, cried about the loss of your mother and how extremely broken Ryou Shio must be, it was your turn — the final speech — to lay your mother to rest once and for all.

“Hello,” You clear your throat, catching everyone’s attention. They weren’t amused, they weren’t as shocked as they were when your twin brother was up here speaking. But that’s okay, because this wasn’t about you, or your bother — just your mother. “Thank you all for attending. I’m Y/N.. Gojo, maiden Shio, and Himari Shio was my mother.”

That got everyone’s attention for sure. There was only one Gojo known.. Satoru Gojo. Six eyes. The propaganda— the man everyone wanted to meet, see, touch and maybe even more.

“My mother wasn’t physically the strongest. She’s never trained or fought… she stayed home with me. Nonetheless, she’s stronger than anyone else here.”

The way the faces turned at you. Some scowls, some head turns and a few with genuine confusion on your statement.

“She might not have fought physically, but she definitely fought for me. I could’ve ended up dead, just like some of your daughters are.. but I’m not.”

“She fought for her children unlike any of you did. That makes her strong, makes you weak. Me, the child that should’ve died, I’m going to battle my brother; whether I die or not. Why? Cause my mother trained me not to quit. Trained me to keep my hair tied up because I always needed to be ready to fight.”

“Trained me by hiding my toys around the house and making me able to scope out places that no one would think of — or show me places people would think of. Trained me by purposely asking for things on the other side of our estate, making me run so my stamina could build. My mother did that after fighting for her daughters life. She’s the strongest while all of you… you’re weak.”

“Y/N!” Your father stands, making up for both Ryou’s hard expression and his very own.

“You’re pathetic,”

Next Ryou stood tall as if he could give a shit about his mother to begin with. “Y/N?!”

“And my mother deserved better than this excuse of a clan.. created by someone who couldn’t get it up in the first place.”

The gasps filled the room like music— and it was a song you’d love to hear on repeat. You’ve got some nerve, you know you do.. but you could care less. Just months until your fight and whether you win or lose, you wouldn’t want to have any regrets to begin with.

Like clockwork, your father stormed up the steps and onto the platform, aiming right for you. All you could do was tilt your head, placing both hands on your hips and await for what was next.

“You’ve lost your mind,” You’ve heard that before. Maybe a few screws did go loose. He’s got a deathly grip on your arm, immediately stopping blood circulation in your vessels. He tugs you forward, causing you to stumble on your heels. “You want to be scattered with Himari? I’ll sprinkle your ass right with her.”

Even though his words were low, eyes could read lips like a book if interested enough. “Be careful now,” You match his volume, moving closer to his ear — to the audience, it looks like a hug. “Won’t win ‘daddy of the year’ if you’re abusing your kids publicly.”

As much as Sousuke despises you and the fact your breathing, you have a point. He releases the grip on your arm and sends you another warning look before stepping away to the microphone.

“My deepest apologies for my daughters behavior. She’s handling this pretty rough considering her relationship with Himari,” Sousuke’s putting on a show. Revealing grieving eyes and a painful stare. “The service will start in a few minutes, please meet us out there.”

As the people sitting in their seats stand to make way outside, your father catches glimpse of a figure walking dangerously close and moves like the speed of light, holding an arm out to block your brother.

“You just had to make it about you, huh?” Ryou’s held back by your fathers burly arm, who’s trying to calm him down and beckon him to just leave it alone.

You shrugged, keeping a bored and unamused expression on your face. “That’s rich coming from you,” You almost chuckle. “Considering no one’s here for my mother, and only to see you in the flesh.”

“Sounds like jealousy.”

You roll your eyes. Yeah, you were definitely jealous — it was the whole reason you were going through with the battle. Did your brother have to know that? No, he didn’t.

Sousuke drops his arm from your brother, though he kept an eye on both of you. Considering the tension between you both, he was afraid the fight would start earlier than it should’ve. And from your expression alone — he’s sure he’d be watching a fight and not you just getting your ass handled.

You wouldn’t allow it to go any further. You’ve said your peace, and the only thing really binding you with your family was your mother. Now that she was gone, and this was about putting her to rest — you didn’t have to be here anymore. Didn’t have to talk to your family for anymore arrangements or asking to speak to your mother.

In a way, just a slim way, you were free. Just like her.

A small chuckle left your lips as you clasped your hands behind your back. “I’ll make everything easy, I’ll go. I just ask for one more thing.. after, you won’t have to speak to me until the fight,”

“Keep me some of her ashes. I’d want to sprinkle them at our lake.”

You’ve never had one of these before.

The last time you almost downed an alcoholic beverage, your mother ended passing out. You’ve never had the time to enjoy alcohol, either. Taking care of your mother, wedding planning, funeral planning — and hey, even planning your own death!

(Lmao.)

“Drink the whole thing. If you sip it, you’ll hate it.”

And you’ve taken that advice too literal. Now you’re several shots in, this new foreign feeling giving you pure euphoria. You’ve got a small smile on your face, resting your jaw in your palm, babbling to your bartender.

“I can.. I can shoot water from my nipples too!” A small giggle leaves your lips, using your free hand to point at your breasts. “F’you wanna see, I… I can show you.”

“Ah, no! It’s alright!” He chuckles back, making a mental note to cut you off. He can’t ignore the little grin on your face, eyes fluttered closed with your cheeks burning a faint red. You were cute. “Can I see your phone?”

Normally, you’d say no. But the fact he’s even asking for your phone makes you giggle even more than you were before and you’re sliding your device over to be bartender who’s served you an amazing selection of fruity beverages.

Normally, you’d be thinking: What the fuck? Absolutely not! Asking for my phone to put a tracker on it or something? Creeper.

Instead, you’re thinking: That’s so funny! A bartender asking for my phone.. this isn’t T-Mobile! Silly bartender, bartender so silly.

He accepts, triple clicking your phone for your emergency contacts. The first number he calls, the phone goes straight to voicemail. It then tells him the number has been turned off, and though it confuses him — he goes to the next number.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“What’s wrong?”

The sudden question catches the bartender off guard, nonetheless, he clears his throat cautiously. “Hello, Is this Mr. Gojo?” Earning a hum in return. “I have… what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Pour me ‘nother.. one of those sweet thingies. Want sugar on my cup this time, no salt puhlease.”

“Your name.”

“Mm.. Shio!”

There’s no point trying to get anything else out of you, nonetheless, he relays the message back to the man on the phone.

“I have… Shio here. She’s had a lot to drink. She walked here, and she’s offering a few things I’m sure she’s not supposed to.”

There’s a soft breath on the other line before he speaks up. “Thank you. Could you send me the location? I’ll be there a few.”

And as requested, the bartender does.

Within 10 minutes of the call, there’s a jingle at the door, revealing at six foot man in his work uniform. Ivory hair falling past his cerulean blue eyes. He scoped out the room until his eyes fell on you.

He’s made his way over, leaning against the bar until your flutter your eyes open, your mascara catching under your eyes. Whether you were crying or sweating, it makes his heart pang. He wants to comfort you, hold you and tell you it’s okay — but he doesn’t even know why you were sad today.

Doesn’t even know where you were.

He doesn’t know anything going on with you anymore. Himari’s not here to tell him, knowing you wouldn’t, so now he’s in the dark.

Either way, he wants to get you home.

“You.. mm, hi.” You sit up in your seat, trying to fix your hair subconsciously. His gaze wasn’t intimidating— it wasn’t scary, but you still wanted to make sure you looked nice for him.

All for him.

“Hi.” Satoru responds, squatting down to the ground. He looks up at your from his position, sending you his thousand dollar smile. “Havin’ fun?”

You’re peering down at him, nodding quickly to his answer. “Sleepy.”

He chuckles, shooting up from the ground. He grabs your hand gently, intertwining his fingers with yours. He could coo at the size difference, but he’s gotta keep it together. He’s got to get you home and in bed.

“Thank you, bud,” Gojo bows slightly to the bartender, who returns it. He pulls a big bill from his back pocket, and he’s sure enough it’ll cover everything you had and even slip in a tip, tossing it over to the bar.

“I’m gonna go lock the door, stay right there.”

Of course you wouldn’t. You dropped your stupid, wobbly heels and made your way to the kitchen. You knew you wouldn’t be able to jump on the kitchen island, so you opted to crawling up on it.

You were sure you looked trashy. Black dress riding up as you struggled to get up on countertop, but you could care less right now. You felt great. Warm, happy — free.

Once you were settled, you caught sight of your husband. He’s got his hands covering his eyes, waiting for you to give him the ‘okay!’ to drop them. He probably caught glimpse of your ass, considering you were just on display.

And the cute smile on his lips as if he’s seen underwear for the first time.

The image makes you giggle, shaking your head at him. “M’all covered now,” Gojo drops his hands cautiously, making his way over to you at a comfortable distance. “You could’ve looked f’you wanted. You’re my husband~.”

Now it was Gojo’s turn to turn red. Sure, he’s looked at you in dresses, or those tight jeans you wear to the school.. but imaging you in your underwear? God, he feels like a pervert.

He shakes his head. “You’re only sayin’ that cause you’ve been drinking,” He nods his head over to your side of the estate. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

“M’serious,” You extended your leg, attempting to pull him forward. “I.. I wouldn’t mind. But I don’t think you’d want to. S’okay, I jus’.. Don’t care if you look or stuff like that.”

Now his curiosity is piqued. He tilts his head, ignoring your little attempts to pull him forward. “You don’t think I’d want to? What’s that mean?”

You shrug your shoulders, a natural yet drunk pout on your lips. “Y’don’t let me touch you,” You hold your hands out, palms facing him. “I’ve only touched you during the wedding. You always have the.. thing on. But you let other people touch’ya. I know we’re not as close, but, ‘dunno. Guess I was thinkin’ I could too.”

“You wanna touch me?”

Nodding yes, please. Maybe it was the liquid courage, maybe it was the recent thoughts you’ve had. You’ve wanted to touch your husband badly. A hug, a kiss, even if it was a shove, you wouldn’t have minded.

There’s just something intimate about being able to touch someone without feeling uncomfortable, or untrustworthy to the point where your frying your brain just so they wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on you.

You didn’t think you were that bad.

There’s something Gojo can’t miss in your eyes. If he travels away from the intoxication and the sadness.. there’s something else. He wants to see it without the other two— therefore, he doesn’t look too deep.

But he’s caught a glimpse of where your mind wonders.

In return, he raises his palms to yours, leveling himself until you were skin to skin. He watches your eyes widen and soften within seconds. Your hands cup around his wrists, and up his arms. With the little strength you have left, you pull him forward more, until he was between your legs.

Really close.. that’s what he was. You thought you were dreaming for a moment. He smelled sweet yet so masculine, like a woody caramel.

Your hands raise cautiously to his jaw before pulling them away, covering your hand over your mouth. “M’sorry,” You shake your head, squeezing your eyes together until it was painful. “That’s too much. Sorry—”

“I didn’t say stop, did I?”

Gojo knows he’s playing a dangerous game. There’s a slim chance you’ll remember this in the morning, and even if you did — so what? After the day he’s had today, what he’s witnessed alone.. it put a lot on him. And for some strange reason.. all he wanted to do was see you.

Hear your voice, even if it was from an argument.

See you smile, even if it wasn’t for him.

With his invitation, he watched you sit up like a child being offered candy before dinner. Your small hands cupped his cheeks, squishing them together and giggling at the way his glossy, pink lips puckered.

He’s got the prettiest lips.

You wish part of you didn’t hate him. You wanted to know why he married you — you wanted to know why he cared so much yet so little. You wanted to know the relationship he had with your mother — who Suguru Getou was and why he was so stressed out lately.

You wanted to know a lot, you wanted to know too little.

You were tired.

Gojo felt your hands drop from his face and watched the excitement fall from your eyes as he countered this moment over. Even for the few minuets you enjoyed roaming his skin and exploring something you never had, he loved every second.

You look down to your legs, “Sleepy.”

He clicks his tongue, laughing gently at your small words. “Let’s get you to bed then, hm?”

His large palms scoop under your thighs and pops you up into your chest. Your legs wrapped around him stomach cautiously, your head resting against chest once your arms laid over his shoulders.

Satoru made sure his steps were calculated and slow, just to keep you in his arms a few seconds longer — and to enjoy this moment just a little bit more. Come the morning, this would all be a dream to you.. and be his reality.

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#gojo satoru series #gojo satoru imagine #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojou sensei #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru smut #gojo headcanons #gojo fanart #gojo fluff #gojo sensei #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo series #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk series

[chiffiorra]

Forgive Me for This? Please?

Synopsis: Last minute presents aren't really his thing, but he had to make it up to you for forgetting such an important day in his eyes.

Pairings: Boyfriend!Chifuyu Matsuno x fem!reader

This Fic Contains the Following: Fluff, established relationship, Chifuyu's an idiot but he's your idiot, poor bb tries his best to make it up to you, Baji and Kazutora are so done with his nonsense and you are too

Note: part of The Valentine's Day Collab by the amazing @sleepysnk! i just had to join in and make one for my sweet boyfriend ❤️ hope y'all have a great valentine's day!

WC: 1,137

If any neighbor looked out of their window, they would be surprised to see a young man zooming as fast as he could to his place. Not only that, he was carrying a bouquet and a heart shaped box full of chocolates.

If they thought he was running late or forgot to get his valentine something for the holiday? Well, they wouldn't be far off.

Chifuyu forgot.

He forgot to get you a present and also forgot to take you out on a date like you two had discussed beforehand last week. While he was running back to your shared apartment, he was mentally praying that you wouldn't kill him.

He didn't mean to forget, he really didn't! He was just so caught up in working for the past few days until Baji and Kazutora reminded him of what day it was, that was when it had all exploded in his face.

"So Chifuyu, what are you and your girlfriend doing for today?" Baji had asked.

Chifuyu was a little confused as to what he meant. He stopped sweeping the area he was in, wondering what his long time friend meant. "Huh?"

Kazutora laughed, "You mean to tell me that you forgot what today is?"

Chifuyu was still lost, he was trying to comprehend just what in the world that his friends/coworkers were telling him. There was silence in the shop as Baji and Kazutora waited for him to take the hint. The latter started looking a little concerned that he wasn't getting it. At all.

Baji finally had enough and facepalmed himself, "Yo dumbass, today is Valentine's Day!" He exclaimed. Meanwhile Kazutora sighed and shook his head in disappointment.

Right after Baji's statement, your dear boyfriend dropped his broom in shock as he gasped, "Oh shit!"

A few passerbys heard his yell and looked into the shop through the window, confused by one of the men in said shop who looked horrified at the other two before shrugging off the scene and going about their own way.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Chifuyu ran to the break room to grab his jacket and keys before running out as fast as his legs could carry him, "Hope you guys don't mind closing the place, I really gotta go!" He blurted out as he sped away to his car. Thank goodness the shop was just closing up!

"You better hope she doesn't kill you when you get home!" Kazutora called out as he watched his friend start his car and drive off. Both he and Baji could only snicker as they watched Chifuyu drive away, possibly breaking a traffic law as he left.

"He's so dead."

-

While the other two men were snickering and laughing amongst themselves as they closed up the shop, Chifuyu panicked as he drove to the nearest flower shop. How could have he been so foolish to do this? For the past decade since you two had made it official, he never failed to wow you with whatever plan he came up with on this day. None of them were ever last minute, they were always crafted carefully sometimes by himself or he would have a friend help him out a little.

Until now. Boy oh boy, was he so dead.

Surely you would understand, right? He never meant to do this on purpose, this was the first time it ever happened after all. Maybe he was just overreacting and you would be cool with it after all? Or you wouldn't, and today would officially be the end for Chifuyu Matsuno because he forgot that today was Valentine's Day.

He really was an idiot, huh?

"Hopefully these would spare my life a little bit longer," he muttered as he rushed back to his car right after paying, there was no need for him to take any receipt.

Not only did he buy a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, he also got you a big box of chocolates. Luckily for him, said bouquet was the last one in stock and he counted his lucky stars that he made it before someone else decided to take them.

After unceremoniously tossing both in the passenger seat, he stepped on the gas pedal quickly as he quickly drove back home. But this time, he eased up on the speeding a bit. He really did not want to get pulled over when all he wanted to do was to go home to you.

-

As for you, you were staring out the window while sitting in your living room. As you got cozy on your couch, your mind began to wander: Where was Chifuyu? He was supposed to be here earlier so you could go out on the date you two were going to go on. He didn't forget, did he? That was a little worrying to think about.

You sighed as you leaned back and chose to turn on the TV to take your mind off of these thoughts. Perhaps he got caught up in traffic, that usually happens.

As you tried to tune in on the show that was currently airing, you heard your door unlock and watched it swing open to see your boyfriend run in. To your surprise, he had a large bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates in one hand. Well the box looked to be in good condition, as for the bouquet? A handful of the flowers seemed to have disappeared during his run. Hell, a trail of petals led from the door to the living room where he currently stood.

As you looked on in confusion, Chifuyu smiled sheepishly in return. "I forgot about what today was, and I'm so sorry! I swear it wasn't on purpose! I thought buying these would make it up to you," he said as you stood up from the couch.

As you walked over to him, he began to sweat nervously as he handed you the gifts. As you took them in your hands, you only laughed in return. "I know you didn't mean to, baby."

He sighed in relief as you kept going, "While I am quite upset that you forgot, you're forgiven because it was an honest mistake that you tried making up for and I appreciate it a lot." You added, as you hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"I'm guessing it's too late for us to go out on that date after all, huh?" He asked, leaning into your hug.

"We can have dinner and a movie here, I'm just glad you're back." You responded, before leaving to grab a vase for the flowers.

Chifuyu was sure glad that he didn't completely screw this over and could tell the others that he was still alive after all. Looks like today wasn't going to end horribly after all.

#candy uploads 🍭 #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu matsuno x reader #matsuno chifuyu #matsuno chifuyu x reader

[lenievi]

TOS-tober day 6 (triumvirate prompts)

Favourite romantic duo?

My doorway to mckirk was the bar scene between them in Beyond. That was the first scene I saw from AOS, and only after that I watched the films in order. Because it was the their "final" AOS dynamic that I fell in love with, I feel it's only logical (lol) that I would also like everything about their TOS version because Beyond is the closest to TOS in feeling and characterization (even though I'd still say it's closer to TOS films rather than the show itself).

Yesterday, I said that the spones dynamic is the most engaging, and it is. But Kirk and McCoy's relationship has always been my favourite. It took me a bit to cross the line into the romantic nature of it, but I'm embracing it fully now~

When it comes to Kirk and McCoy in TOS, their relationship is the most quiet, in a way. Their most important scenes are at the beginning of s1, and when you don't get on that train early, it's easy to just miss it imho Not that there aren't good scenes as far as s3 (but they're mostly part of the triumvirate scenes, and Spock-McCoy overshadow the Kirk-McCoy angle), and then the films are just full of mckirk scenes, but at that point, I feel like most people are just focused elsewhere. The lack of fanworks doesn't help either, unfortunately.

But from early on, you know that Kirk and McCoy are close friends. McCoy approaches Kirk in a way no one else does, and Kirk lets his guard around McCoy down. He shares his doubts with him, and he's often willing to listen to McCoy without telling him he doesn't need to be psychoanalyzed. Even though there's literally no need in 90% of cases, Kirk will take McCoy with him on most missions. The show itself even acknowledged how neither of them were necessary in landing parties, but Kirk's need for exploration include McCoy around and giving McCoy opportunities to study things. Which is then again reflected in TMP, where Kirk just needs to have McCoy with him and pesters an admiral to grant him that need.

At times, McCoy sees Kirk through rose-coloured glasses and he cares about him so much, but he's also afraid that Jim will push himself (and also others) above his limit. Kirk is someone who is 100% dedicated to his job, his ship, and his crew, and McCoy is afraid that it will consume him one day - stress, duty, regulations, pressure. He's afraid that Spock will enable Jim to continue on a path of cold logic and forget himself. Destroy himself. And so he makes sure that he can always try and pull Jim back. And Jim? Jim would be lost without McCoy. (McCoy is so important to him.) He might not acknowledge it, but he needs to occasionally hear what McCoy has to say. McCoy is his connection with a world outside of "command" - McCoy specifically isn't welcome in that world. He can question Jim himself, but he can't question Kirk's command decisions. It's not his place.

They're both genuinely fond of each other and they understand each other. And they can hurt each other the most because they know where it would hurt the most. They have a strong emotional connection that isn't diluted too much by professionalism and the chain of command, but it's still an important part of their dynamic.

All of this works for me as a basis for them as a romantic ship where I can exaggerate some of it and mold it into something that I enjoy, that can be a little bit messed up. In a way, "I need you. Damn it, Bones, I need you. Badly." & McCoy killing a living being twice because of Kirk is an important part of the way I ship them.

But at the end of the day, I love Kirk and McCoy's relationship in any way, and I honestly don't know how to properly describe what their friendship in TOS means to me. And it's all thanks to one youtube video of their AOS versions having a drink together in a dimply lit bar.

[prompts]

#terms of service-tober #mckirk #leonard mccoy #jim kirk #i love them so much 🥺 words are not enough #but linking my fics is not really explanatory either haha #i need to write more fics but i need to get over feeling it's weird writing kirk always pining and needing mccoy

[procuder]

Let's see some of what they have sacrificed (a whole chapter lol I'm almost crying no I'm crying so hard rn I won't shut up about it) for that 'I want to be his friend' (my ass) scene! (I'm only choosing my favorite)

So, only after both of og lloyd and suho were on the train, before og lloyd got reincarnated btw ☺️ so we will see. What we were robbed just for half of chapter.

"Seriously? Are you still sulking?" Lloyd lifted his brow. "..." "What? Why? What? Don't look at me like that. Speak." "..." Ghost frontera didn't speak. But its gaze at Lloyd was distinctly different from a while ago. There wasn't anger, resentment, frustration, or any of the negative emotions that played across its eyes as it blewoff steam at Lloyd. The corners of Lloyd's lips rose slightly. "Hey, you're grateful but embarrassed for getting angry at me earlier, right?" "..." "I can see you flinching in guilt." "Oh, tsk... Come on." "If you're thankful, just say it. Don't curse me out."

And what's more funny is how suho cares for og lloyd lmao this is the proof that shows us how good person he is. And. You know. Yeah I'd rather not talking about how they portray his character out like that I cannot shut up.

"Hey, tell me if you feel motion sick." "Why?" "I'll remove the trap. That way, you can stick your head out and vomit." "I might as well just kick you out of the trap," growled Ghost Frontera. "Did you forget already how i beat you up after you tried to do that?" "No, I didn't, bastard," huffed Ghost Frontera. "Then let's just go reincarnate like a good boy. Anyway, how do you feel? What does it feel like to be the passenger of this monumental train?" "Well, nothing much." Ghost Frontera roughly scratched its jaw. "I want to get a drink. It's been a while."

Man...the more I write, the more sad I become when these good things are replaced with something. I don't know, you thought it was boring so you changed it? Even if it's just an unnecessary conversation but you know what? That allows readers to get to know the characters more. Get to know the character's attitude more. And can also relate more to that character...but...sigh. just. Sigh.

So I'm going to share my views on og lloyd right here. Tbh, he's a trash. Yes, he's inherently bad. And some people are just that bad no matter how good their family is. But if you try to analyze it through lloyd's pov on his home and his family. It's another kind. He finds his place boring and he is always dissatisfied with it. But with the little information we've gotten about what he was like when he was very young, and things he's noticed, even he considers them very boring. Of course, even though this bitch is a trash lol I never forgive him for what he had done (like-hate relationship for me and him lol)

Okay so. Hear me out. He did care for his family (*ahem* JAVIER EXCLUDED!!!!) but instead of changing himself he chose to let it be....yeah ykwim🤷‍♂️ As I've said before, he cares about his family and he knows he shouldn't have done that in the first place. But he was not the one to even say it because he thought he would do it in his next life. What makes you think that he'll do whatever tf he does in the webcomic? Lmao let me grab your collar and have some private discussion!!!

"You're heartless bastard. Don't you miss your family back there?" "No. My parents all passed away." Ghost Frontera paused for second before saying, "They say your family is always with you as long as they're in your heart. Cheer up, scumbag." "What are you saying?" Lloyd frowned with a smile. "Forget it. What about my parents? Are they well?" "Of course. They are as healthy as a horse." "Really?" "Yeah." Lloyd stared at Frontera. Then he continued in honesty, "Come to think of it, I'm relaying this news late. The Frontera family is no longer a barony." "What? What do you mean?" "It's county now." "Whaaat?" Ghost Frontera's eyes windened. "Surprising, right? I'm surprised too. Anyway, the count has resumed his hobby recently too." "Wood carving?" "Uh-huh. There are a bunch of wooden sculptures in the study already." "Then what about Mother's garden?" "It's still there. Oh, it has doubled in size. But I'm slightly worried about the count's back and knees." "What's up with that old man's back and knees?" "He's helping out with the gardening. He insists on crouching and giving a hand when he's not used to the work." "Tsk. I guess the man is still senseless as always." "Aren't you going to ask about Julian?" "Don't have to. He's a smart kid, so I'm sure he's doing well on his own."

And ;) they replaced these precious conversation with that. Changed long ass heartwarming conversation into 3 speech bubbles just to sped up the story and ooc'd literally every characters. I'm so okay sir. I'm completely okay.

This is just a part of chapter 243 you know TT you know how much we were robbed right? I am okay right now. It's not like I'm going to talk about how they manage to portray my king hellkaros like that too. Yeah I'm to tally okay with it!

Anyway, it's true that og lloyd cares about his family but, dumbass. he hated javier so much you know lee hyunmin-nim you already have read ch 408 how the hell did you manage to understand that 'wow this guy is actually a good person maybe he even wanted to be friends with javier too!' How????????????? He cared for his family, yes. And javier was there too? No. He's scumbag? Obviously. So he's a good person? NO DUMBASS. LOOK WHAT HE HAVE DONE TO EVERYONE AND TELL ME HOW.

Or are you just not good at writing complex characters? lol Not even mentioning what he was reincarnated as...

Qidjwkwiduiqoq I'm ; ;;; arugh. qidjqkqodk okay sir. well done.

I'll draw og lloyd and suho conversation soon ^^ watch me draw what it supposed to be soon! Watch me!!!!!!!

Also, how the hell again did you think he cared for his estate may i ask some simple question.

#tged #tged spoiler #ch 243 #God I love Hell arc so much that I cried #og lloyd frontera #lloyd frontera #kim suho #do you know the reason why I stop here? #you guys...it's better to read the whole arc yourself it's so good^^ #i am not dragging myself to talk about hellkaros here or else i'll going insane #i don't care who tf is webcomic hellkaros is now i'm done #the only good webcomic hellkaros has is he's fucking dilf and hot grown ass man that's all #which is i don't even want to think that this mf is my gorgeous hellkaros ofc #i'm totally fine okay?? #lol guys read the webnovel please!

[scarletttries]

You Are In Love (Eddie Munson x Reader series)

Part Two: Small Talk, He Drives

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x F! Reader

Tags: Mentions of bullying, otherwise pure fluff.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: This is the second part of an Eddie Munson series inspired by Taylor Swift's "You Are In Love". Part one is here :) As always please feel free to send me other Eddie Munson thoughts and headcanons <3

Small Talk, He Drives

You'd been pleasantly surprised at how well Hunter had taken the news. Sat in his car as he dropped you home, he could tell things had shifted after his outburst at lunch, grateful that you'd waited for this private moment to call things off between you. He apologised for raising his voice, remorseful for his anger in the moment, but the damage was done. You knew you'd never be able to look at him the same way, and as you gave him a final awkward hug before exiting the car, your heart wasn't breaking at all. No single fractured line cut across the organ, completely at peace with your decision, confident you'd done what was right. You knew you might feel different when the rumours started up at school tomorrow, everyone already speculating in hushed tones about your argument as you walked down the halls, but you could accept it all knowing one simple fact: you aren't in love with Hunter.

--

Your morning at school passed without incident, a distinct lack of furtive glances letting you conclude that the rumour mill hadn't started circulating on your split quite yet. You'd shared the news with Robin on the drive in, catching a lift with her and Steve, rather than your usual place in Hunter's car.

"I remember Hunter from back in my day," Steve shouted from the front seat as he pulled up, cringing at how old the expression made him sound, "He always had a quick temper, sounds like you dodged a bullet there (y/n)." He offered reassuringly, Robin nodding in agreement as you pulled on your backpacks and thanked Steve for the ride.

"Steve's right you know, you could do a lot better, but that doesn't mean today won't suck a little bit." Robin words of understanding made you smile as you traded books with your lockers, enjoying that no one seemed to be looking at you twice, the drama from yesterday all but forgotten.

"Thanks Robin, you're the best." You beamed, nerves settling as she patted you on the shoulder, about to head the opposite way to band practice,

"I know. I'll even save you a seat at lunch. You, me, Nancy, Max - we'll plan a girls night soon and you'll forget all about silly boys." You laughed at the way her whole face scrunched at the word boys, knowing she was completely right. As you waved her off to practice, you turned to make your way to study hall, finding yourself face to face with the silly boy that had started all this.

Eddie shifted nervously from foot to foot as you closed your locker turning so he could walk alongside you,

"Hey (y/n), I know I'm probably the last person you want to talk to today, and I'm really sorry that you got yelled at for trying to defend me," he started, eyes fixed to his feet as he trailed apologetically by your side. He'd spent all night choosing his words, feeling awful about the scene in the cafeteria, despite how moved he was that you'd try to stand up for him after your one afternoon together. But more than that, he couldn't say nothing about the way Hunter and his cronies had talked to you, kicking himself for not doing anything to help you in the moment. You had been kind enough and brave enough to stand up for him, now it was time for him to be brave for you.

"I didn't know what to do yesterday, but I can't not say anything, even though I have no right to be the person saying this to you." He paused, stopping in his tracks and gulping, watching your interested gaze fixed to him. "You shouldn't let Hunter speak to you like that, it was disrespectful and you don't deserve it, and no one should talk to someone they care about that way." He nodded resolutely, your expression unreadable as you mulled over his words. It was sweet that Eddie went out of his way to deliver such a thoughtful reminder, the effects of your shared afternoon clearly lingering in his mind as well. Despite how kind his words, and how timid he looked all but shaking beside you, you couldn't help tease him a little bit.

"You're dead wrong Eddie." You replied, tone flat, face expressionless, watching his nervous lips part as his eyes grew wide. Before he could force out the apology forming on his tongue you broke into a wide smile, "you're never the last person I want to speak to. I think you're funny, and I like talking to you." You offered sweetly, picking up you path to class again as he tripped up to follow you. "And you're completely right about Hunter. And while I can't change how he talks to his girlfriend, I can change who is girlfriend is." You said matter-of-factly, watching his face shift happily before furrowing into a confused expression, mind short-circuiting at your simple compliment.

"You mean?" He tried to articulate the question while not getting his hopes up, sure he had misunderstood you.

"Hunter's not my boyfriend anymore." You nodded, watching Eddie's eyes light up far brighter than just a friend who thought you so could do better. Your pace came to a stop as you approached the library doors, wondering what was racing through Eddie's mind as he looked around nervously before speaking again, making himself say the words before he could overthink them and back out,

"So does that mean the position's available?" He tried to sound smooth, charming, anything to cross that invisible line from friendly to flirting, sounding endlessly hopeful until your laughter hitting him like a punch to the gut. But as he saw the warmth in your smile, spreading to his face through no effort of his own, the pain eased.

"Why? Are you interested in the role Munson?" You flirted back far more successfully, lighting the optimistic fires in his heart once again as he nodded, feeling uncharacteristically bashful as he responded,

"I can't imagine anyone wouldn't be, but yeah, uh, definitely interested." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, feeling more exposed than he thought he would when asked the question. You smiled at his sincere response, endeared by his timid demeanor, responding softly,

"I supposed I do already like talking to you, but Hunter and I did only break up yesterday so I need a little bit of time before I start making any plans for first dates. You know, to go through the usual break up activities,"

Eddie nodded knowingly, chiming in, "U-huh, sleepovers, crying into ice cream, I get it, I've seen rom-coms." He replied, raising some very interesting questions in your mind about the seemingly hardcore metalhead. "As someone with limited experience in heartbreak, can you give me an idea of how long I have to build up the nerve to ask you out again?" You smiled at the question, entirely unsure of your answer until it spilled on of its own accord,

"More than a week," Eddie's face dropped a little, "but less than a month." He lit up again, practically bouncing at the information,

"A month! I can do a month standing on my head," At the phrase he threw himself over the ground, attempting an ecstatic cartwheel that left him collapsed on the floor in front of you, attracting the attention of every student not yet in class. Quickly scrambling to his feet he bowed theatrically as he walked away, "Until then (y/n)" scampering down the hall, leaving you sure you weren't going to be able to pay much attention to your books today.

--

Day two of heartbreak mending: Eddie waited by the school entrance before first bell, early for the first time in his educational career. He waited until you approached, plastering on his brightest smile and as he said a simple yet sweet "good morning (y/n)" that left you unable to think about much else that day.

Day five of heartbreak healing: Once a week you drive Dustin to school in his mum's car, usually getting a blow by blow of either his last call with Suzie or the latest Hellfire session. Today it was Hellfire, giving you the perfect excuse to interrupt his descriptive combat overview,

"I know you think he's a good DM, but you also just like Eddie right? Like he's your friend?" Dustin turned to face you with a look of pure confusion, that quickly turned into borderline disgust, before finally breaking into a grin as he spoke,

"Well yeah, Eddie's cool and smart and nice to me. But OH MY GOD! Do you like him! That's gross, you're like my sister and he's like my brother, you can't like him! But he is always a real pain in my ass about me leaving hellfire early to talk to Suzie, and maybe if he had a girlfriend he'd have less of an attitude about it. Plus it would be nice for him to be happy, and he's a huge step up from Hunter the douchebag, so I've changed my mind: you have my blessing (y/n)." He smiled proudly looking back at you as you cut him off,

"Dustin! Calm down! I just asked if you were his friend because I sit next to him in a class this year, I'm not making you my maid of honour quite yet." You shook your head, never ceasing to be amazed by his motor-mouth.

"Oh, that makes sense. Well yeah Eddie's cool...and I know you're just joking but for the record I would be honoured." You took one hand off the wheel to ruffle his head, putting more than a little stock in his judge of character.

Day eight of heartbreak forgetting: It had been over a week since your break-up with Hunter, and Eddie's attempt to replace him. Every day this week Eddie had found some reason to stop and talk to you, never putting any pressure on your decision, just small talk to remind you he was there, and that he was really a pleasure to talk to. You found your eyes drifting over to him as he talked excitedly at his lunch table, watching his dramatic movements and getting lost in the image. Had his hair always looked so soft? How hadn't you noticed the joyful glint in his eye before this week? It was like every simple word he said, every unashamedly bright smile that he threw your way, made you want to know him better. As stomped around his table of freshman, eyes darting across to find you every so often, your stomach filled with a hundred tiny butterflies, and whatever existed between you and Eddie started to feel inevitable.

Night nine of heartbreak forgotten: Wednesday night. Mike had Hellfire Club and Nancy's parents had date night, which left you, Robin and Max sprawled across her living room floor as you passed popcorn around to the comedy Robin had insisted on putting on in the background. It had been a relaxed evening of laughing over movies and boys, dancing to the radio and forgetting anything outside the walls of the Wheeler home. As the credits started to roll, Robin shot you a sly smile as he began the interrogation,

"So (y/n) as the most eligible bachelorette in Hawkins, is there anyone new catching your eye?" Salacious tone making her sound like a gossip columnist for a tabloid as much as friend. You laughed as she mimed taking out a notepad and pen, Max chiming in before you could,

"If Dustin's not completely full of shit, it sounds like you've already got someone in mind." She smirked, as Nancy jumped down from the couch, joining Robin in holding an imaginary microphone,

"Care to comment on these rumours? Spill a name." She beamed watching the blush spread to your cheeks as you held up your hands in defense.

"Eddie Munson asked me out a couple of weeks ago." The girls all but screeched at the admission, before Nancy regained focus, ever the journalist,

"And what did you say? Do you like him?" The wide grin you couldn't fight back could have been answer enough,

"Yeah, I do kinda like him, and I definitely want to get to know him, but I told him I needed some time since I'd just broken up with.." You paused, mind blank as you met Nancy's intense gaze. You looked around in shock before Robin chimed in,

"Hunter?"

"Yes, Hunter! Sorry I just..."

"Did you just forget Hunter's name!" Max shouted over your trailing voice, "Oh you're definitely ready to go out with Eddie now!" Robin and Nancy's nods of agreement were the final signal you needed. Time to ask out Eddie Munson.

--

Day ten of thinking about Eddie Munson: Eddie slid open the side of his van reluctantly as his seemingly growing flock of freshman all needed a lift home. Dustin and Mike bickered over who was getting to ride shotgun today, as Lucas asked quietly,

"Eddie, do you know (y/n) (y/l/n)?" Eddie frowned at the freshman as he answered,

"Yeah, I'm waiting for her to ask me on a date." He tone was sarcastic, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as faced with his own naivety for the first time in ten days.

"Well she's coming this way, so good luck!" He said cheerfully as he climbed into the back of the van, catching the attention of the other two boys,

"Maybe she wants to ask you a question about the class you sit together in?" Dustin offered hopefully, only causing Eddie more confusion as he watched you slowly approaching across the car park.

"What class?" he turned to Dustin, who shrugged,

"When we were talking about you last week, she said you had a class together now?" Eddie felt his heart race rising as he frantically spat back at Dustin,

"She was talking about me?" He could feel the colour draining from his cheeks, his fingers starting to tingle as his stomach dropped. Maybe he'd been wrong to be so forward with you, he's not sure his heart could take this suspense for another 20 days, Dustin smiling proudly in his response,

"Yeah, and don't worry, I really talked you up."

"Eddie!" You called as you got close enough to hear the crowd of boys arguing in hushed tones, hoping you weren't interrupting anything. He turned to face you, raising his hand to return your wave, mouth hanging open wordlessly as your friendly smile took away his ability to breathe, let alone form a sentence. "Do you have a minute?"

He nodded at your question, trying to make his face form a smile instead of the awestruck stare he could feel himself giving you, ignoring the feeling of a sea of freshman eyes on him from inside his vehicle's windows.

It was hard for you to gauge how Eddie was feeling as he stood like a deer in your headlights. But you had made your decision and now it was up to him.

"I was wondering if you still wanted to go on a date with me? The fa.."

"YES." Eddie said a little too loudly, accidentally cutting off your offer with his nervous enthusiasm. He laughed at himself, "sorry, go on," he gestured for you to continue,

"Well the fair is just outside of town for the weekend and I know you're not one for conformity so if you're free Friday or Saturday night how about you let ME win YOU an obnoxiously large teddy?" Eddie took a deep breath before responding this time, desperately trying to regain some composure before you revoked the invitation,

"I can't do Saturday night, so Friday? Like tomorrow?" He clarified, trying to lean back casually against his passenger side door, attempting nonchalance. "I have a van." You laughed at his statement as he tried again, "I mean you can get in my van. Not like that!" He shook his head, not quite sure how he was getting a date out of this interaction but incredibly grateful. "I mean, I'll drive?" He finally offered hopefully, before getting overwhelmed with the excited smile you gave him in exchange.

"You can pick me up at six, it's a date." You gave a final wave as you headed back across the gravel, sure you could feel Eddie's wonderstruck gaze follow you.

"Rolled a natural one on charisma there Munson." Mike laughed from the back of the van, bringing Eddie back to reality as he watched you drift away, unable to tear his eyes off you as his heart hammered in his chest,

"You can walk home Wheeler."

****

You Are In Love taglist:

@lacrymosa-24 @aftermidnightwriting @tayhar811 @souls-rain @neewtmas

#one shot #writing #fanfiction #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things headcanons #stranger things #you are in love

[mae-gi-writes]

DISTRACTED || JAY (ENHYPHEN)

Jay has to go to work. Except, he keeps getting distracted by you.

Genre: bestfriends to lovers!au, fluff, confession time, heated makeout sesh

----

Jay is distracted.

More specifically, he's distracted by you.

Look, the thing is: he's someone who loves keeping track of his money. Hence the reason why he'd asked to share half of his rent with you and, considering that you've lived in the same dormitory for the entirety of your university life, the changes had been minimal, practically close to nothing. Having grown up on the same side of the road and seeing each other everyday did that to him; it made him take for granted that your friendship was somewhat special, somewhat different from the usual encounter with girls.

He's lived with you for a few weeks now, and he won't complain. You cook him meals that take him by surprise whenever he comes home from work, you make sure to wash his laundry when he forgets and in return, he does the same. It's quite an amazing teamwork that you've got with the young man. He's pretty certain that in another life, he would've gravitated towards you all over again.

So what is this?

Why is he feeling so weird?

To be honest, Jay had known that albeit the fact that you weren't popular among most of the male population -- the ones that lived on short skirts and high heels and perfect manicures -- you did have some potential candidates asking around for you. So, you're not completely erased from the dating scene.

But to be clear, you'd never been Jay's type.

So he feels like slapping himself upon catching his own eyes wandering over to the dampness dotting your collarbones.

I mean, he thinks to himself while quickly down at his coffee, it is an attractive sight.

You're the type of girl that holds a no-nonsense look, a wardrobe that consists of large t-shirts thay you've inherited from your older brothers and baggy shorts that did nothing to help your sex appeal in his opinion. You're the type of girl who always has her hair in a ponytail, who's always late to class and would rather stay home and chill instead of dressi.g up to go shopping and get pampered.

Jay, on the other hand, loves seeing girls getting dolled up, loves the feminity that it brings out, loves the show of legs, the clad, skin-tight tops that cinches at the waist, the type of girl that isn￠t scares to ask for help or to show that they're interested in romantic adventures.

But this morning is quite different. Because it seems as though a veil has just been lifted from Jay's eyes.

You, with your friggin collarbones dotted with the dampness of your morning shower, decked in your usual attire. Same, yet different.

Damn.

"What if they ask me about my previous jobs?" You're busy chatting on about your worries, about your interview and the possible questions that might follow but as much as he wants to comfort you, he just cannot be fucked when his eyes are so riveted on that naked patch of skin.

His lips tingle and he licks them.

Just as you say, "Jay? Earth to Jay? Hellooo?"

"H-Huh?" He snaps to attention, blinking as warmth seeps up his neck, "sorry, what d'you say?"

"I asked whether you think I should wear a dress or pants," you turn, press back against the kitchen counter and take a sip of your coffee, "I looked it up and google said dresses look more feminine, but pants are more professional."

He tries imagining you in a dress and his blood turns hot. He averts his gaze, "how am I supposed to know?" He mutters into his cup in a manner reminiscent of a sulky pup.

You cock your head curiously, an amused smile gracing your lips, "what is up your butt this morning?"

"Tired."

"You're always tired Jay," his toast pings and you place them on a plate before you hand it to him.

He thanks you quite sourly as he butters it a little too aggressively for your taste, "I got a lot of stuff to sort out at work."

What a pitiful excuse, his mind chimes.

"Oh yeah? Says the guy who was proclaming his job was the best."

"That was before overtime was a thing."

"Ahh overtime, the joy-killer," you say dramatically, even hold a hand to your forehead. Your own toaat pops out and you place your plate upon the counter opposite him, proceeding to spread peanut butter, "so, to answer my question: dress or pants?"

"Ppft. Neither--ow!" He yelps when you slap his shoulder, a pout forming on his face as he rubs the sore spot, "you're asking me this when you've never even worn them."

"You don't have to see me wear them," you roll your eyes and take a bite from your toast, "use your imagination a little."

He munches on his breakfast, "you're asking for too much."

"Oh my go-- you know what Jay? Nevermind. I'm just gonna wear the pants."

He's about to retort back a reply, only to get distracted by the way your t-shirt dips slightly to show more skin that needed. He spots the crevice that runs down and disappears underneath your t-shirt, which leaves little to the imagination.

He sucks in a sharp breath. Lord. The lord was testing him.

"--also, stop giving me so much sass. It's only like, seven in the morning and I--"

It's on impulse. One minute you're reprimanding him and the next, he's shot forward, grabbed on to your shirt, and yanked it back to hide your neck.

A surprised yelp falls from your lips, "what the fudge, Jay?!"

But now he's distracted, because by doing so means that he's so, so close to you. If he moves a little forward, your noses might brush.

Your lips, parted and looking oh-so-appetizing that he feels his entire body still.

Oh.

Oh wow.

Oh no.

He should not be looking at you like that. He should not be thinking up imaginary scenarios of kissing you senseless--

"Jay? Hey Jay?" Your voice brings him out of his thought bubble. You're tense, and he feels it.

"S-Sorry, I just--" his mind scrambles for something to get him back out of the gutter he's just fallen into heads-on, "sorry. You're...you gotta stop doing that."

"Doing--wha--what did I do?" You can't help but stutter and his heart practically lurches up to his throat because that is fucking adorable.

"N-Nothing," he drops your shirt, averting his eyes so as not to see it slip back down and exposing the said patch of skin he's been avoiding like the plague all morning, "I think the pants would be nice."

It's a pathetic attempt to try and turn things back to normal, but you accept it, trying not to show your concern by devoting your entire attention to your toast.

The rest of your breakfast is quiet and you wash the dishes in silence as you hear Jay changing in his room. It's almost quarter to eight, a little later than Jay would normally leave, but you decide that today is a little weird and maybe it should just be swept under the rug and ignored.

God knows you do not want to breach that small incident with your best friend. Nor do you want to get another reminder of your useless, endless crush on him.

You reach for his bag, set upon the said kitchen counter, and tuck his lunch inside as you usually do, when you feel a presence hovering behind you.

You turn, and gasp.

Jay's arms cage you against the counter, face so close you spot the small scar dotting the corner of his eye. And you almost lose breath at his closeness because goddamnit, you're not used to this.

Your hands grip his bag, a tight ball of cloth that separates your two bodies like a peace offering.

"Jay," you say quietly, "what are you doing?"

But it's almost like you've just lost him to another world.

His eyes are glazed over, and his chest rises and falls with every shallow breath. He looks breathless, though you're certain he's got the lung capacity of an Olympain athlete.

He looks hot.

"Jay," you try again, "what are you--"

Your sentence is cut short when he leans in close. Nose along your neck. Brushing against skin.

Oh.

"H-Hey," your stuttering doesn't stop the said young man from nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a giant feline in need of affection. He lets out a soft sigh that tingles the skin at your collarbone. You tense in response, uncertain of what's about to unfold.

What is this?

You can hear the soft rumble at the back of his throat, the scent of his boy deodorant wafting through your nostrils as you feel his lips skim your nape, along your jaw, to rest at the corner of your ear.

You don't want to move. For fear that this, whatever this is, is just a piece of your wild imagination.

Maybe you're dreaming. You should be dreaming.

When Jay speaks next, his alto his hoarse, raspy with emotion:

"Y/N, I'm sorry but..." he takes another breath that shudders through his shoulders, "I’m going to try something.”

"Wh-What?”

“Just—Just trust me.”

And before you have time to react, Jay’s hands are cupping your cheeks before he pulls you in for a kiss.

His mouth slants over yours in the purest of ways, causing a series of goosebumps to prickle along your spine. You take in a sharp breath, but Jay kisses that away as he holds your face in place and kisses you senseless, until you’re light-headed, until you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.

Slowly, you kiss back and Jay groans lowly at the back of his throat, one of his hands slipping down your arm, curving along the back of your elbow before grasping your hip. He pulls you closer to him as if you’re a drug and he’s in need of you, desperate for a taste, and the intensity at which his mouth moves over yours causes something to ignite in your chest.

A small gasp echoes through the back of your throat when Jay tilts his head and, slowly buy skillfully, swipes his tongue over your bottom lip. You feel light-headed, dizzy with Jay’s scent and Jay’s touch and Jay’s taste. It’s almost scary how quickly you fold under his hands as pliant as origami paper, and you’re not quite sure what to make of all this sudden realization.

But that is quickly shoved out of your head the moment his tongue manages to slip past your lips. You let out a strangled whimper, which Jay responds to with a growl of his own. His body presses you back against the counter, one thigh sliding in-between your legs and causing another gasp out of you, while a hand cards through your hair, fisting through the strands like he fears of letting go.

“Jay,” you murmur out the moment your mouths part. You gaze at each other, breathless and trying to blink away the sudden haziness of it all.

If you’re dreaming, you wish to never wake up.

You swallow hard instead. Your eyes flutter to the ground, to the way his body seems to mold with yours and, maybe realizing that the young man is pressed against you, your cheeks flush a bright red.

“What was that?”

Jay, on the other hand, does not appear the least embarrassed by what has just transpired. He leans in closer to nuzzle the crook of your neck in what seems to be affection.

“Jay,” you call out in warning. You hate it when he gets like this; locks away his thoughts for you to decipher.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what that was, okay?” He mumbles into your skin. His breath fans against your collarbones and that makes you shiver, “maybe I…maybe I like you. Maybe that’s it. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, maybe you like me?”

Pulling away, it’s his eyes that are glued to the edge of the kitchen counter now. You wouldn’t be surprised if he starts shuffling his feet like a primary school kid getting scolded by his teacher.

There’s a silence that falls over the room as you wait for Jay’s response. It stretches on indefinitely. A warp in time that makes you hold your breath.

“I do.”

Your eyes snap up to his face. But he’s not—or rather— he can’t look you straight in the eye.

His hand comes up to rub the back of his neck and it’s almost instinct that he starts backing away from you in an attempt to protect some of that damn pride of his. The little that he has left.

“I do like you,” he whispers.

You swear your heart starts singing.

Your eyes find his. They lock. And you probably stare him down for more time than you should’ve.

“Do you…” you swallow thickly, the weight of emotion settling in your chest, "do you mean that?"

A pause. Jay, flustered red and looking everywhere but you, croaks out, "I do."

You can't help it. You start laughing.

Adorable.

It's a small chuckle at first. And then, seeing the furrowed confusion on Jay's face makes you laugh even harder.

"Oh I'm so sorry, Jay--" you clamp your lips down and cover your mouth with your hand as Jay bellows out, "what's so funny?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all--"

"You're making fun of me aren't you?" He leans back into your personal space and you yelp, hands latching onto his shoulders for support when you lose balance.

"I'm really not! I swear," you can't help the grin practically splitting your face in two, "I wasn't expecting you to be so serious--"

"I am serious, Y/N."

"I mean yeah, but like--"

"Wow. I confess to you and the only thing you can do is laugh in my face?" He looks offended, though his hands lacing around your waist tell another story, "I'm hurt."

"That's not it," you flash him a grin, giggles still lingering upon your tongue and you don't know that, but Jay swears he feels his entire tummy flip upside down.

He's gotten it...what was it that Heeseung said?

Oh right. He got it bad.

Though at the time, there was no way Jay believed Heeseung when his friend told him that love was bound to happen between the two of you.

"Do you?" He presses on to move the subject away from him.

You cock your head, "Do I?"

"Do you--I mean, if you didn't you wouldn't have kissed back..." his words trail off as a frown falls over his brows, "right?"

Your grin widens, "right."

"Stop smiling at me like that," his cheeks are a vibrant red, looking as though he'd like to be anywhwre but here at this precise moment, "it's creepy."

"Jay, you're blushing."

He jerks away, "I am not"

You laugh some more as your arms slip up to his neck and tug him closer, "aw, you're all flustered and stuff, it's so cute--"

Jay interrupts you with another kiss, presses long and hard until you're a gasping mess against his mouth.

He parts slowly, lips milimeters from each other, "not so chatty now, are you?" He breathes.

"That's cheating," you're the one blushing now. It's not all the time you get to see your best friend like this, all charm and charisma. You decide quickly that you quite like this side of Jay.

He smiles. That tender, affectionate smile that makes butterflies erupt through your chest, and as he brings you in for another hug, you close your eyes and hug back just as hard. You love basking in the comfort of his scent, of the warmth that wraps around you in a blissful utopia.

"Oh shit."

Jay pulls back so suddenly you lose balance.

"I'm gonna be late for work."

------

"Jay, you're going to be late," you mumble against Jay's lips as he keeps on pressing insistent kisses. His arms wind around the back of your thighs, lifting you up without warning as you yelp in indignation.

"Jay!"

But he doesn't seem to hear your warning, smothering your protests with his mouth dancing against yours and making your toes curl in delight.

You'll never get tired of this, of Jay spending his mornings kissing you till you're gasping for breath, of Jay showering you with so much that you have no idea where to put your hands.

He's kissing you now after placing you atop the counter and sliding between your thighs. One hand cupping your jaw while the other holds your waist against him, you whimper out his name in a breathy moan when his mouth goes to nibble along your jaw.

"So pretty," he murmurs, the hand at your waist dropping to your clothed thigh, "god, I've been missing out."

"Yup, you have indeed--" your words turn to a gasp as he starts suckling on a patch of skin close to your ear. The hand at your jaw slips up to card through your still-damp locks while his other hand pushes your basketball shorts up to reveal naked akin.

That's enough to cause fireworks to explode behind your lids. You let out another small whimper, unable to help yourself as Jay starts a slow path of kisses down your neck, grumbling in satisfaction as he does so.

"Don't blame me--" you stutter out as he finds your sensitive spot that makes you hiss in delight, "--if your boss gives you shit--"

"Oh shush," his breath against your skin makes it tingle. He kisses his way back up to press one long kiss against your mouth.

"You're impossible," you say the moment he parts, arms around your waist in a loose hug and a lazy grin dancing on his mouth, "I know."

"Now go, or you'll really be late."

Groaning, he does as he's told though, and you walk him up to the door as he gathers his bag, coat and shoves his shoes on.

"See you tonight," you smile at him.

He throws you an annoyed look. Clearly, he isn't amused about the fact that you're pushing him out of the house and you swear he looks like the spitting image of a forlorn pup.

"What?" You jab at his shoulder playfully, "stop looking at me like that."

"Can I call in sick?"

"No!"

"But what if I really am si--"

"No you're not--"

He leans forward too kick for you register until he's kissing you again. A hard smack against your mouth.

"Love you."

You watch him go, a slow smile creeping over your lips.

"Love you too."

#enhyphen #enhypen #enhyphen imagines #enhyphen x you #enhyphen x reader #enhyphen jay #jay angst #jay scenarios #jay x you #jay x reader #jay drabbles #jay headcanons #jay fanfic #jay fluff #bestfriends au #enhyphen fluff #enhyphen fanfic #heeseung #sunghoon #sunoo #jay imagines #park jeongseong

[beautifulbuckys]

Midnight Phone Call (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)

Summary: You’re harboring feelings for close friend and classmate Peter Parker. But a few night time texts could possibly ruin the friendship.

Warnings: Some swearing, anxieties about unreciprocated feelings

A/N: Hi! This was a small blurb I wrote inspired by Can I Call You Tonight? by Dayglow! I watched NWH today and was in my Peter feels, so enjoy!

High school would be a drag if it wasn’t for Peter. 

If Peter Parker weren’t sitting next to me in history, I’d forget to write my name on all my papers. He’s the one that saves me from hour-long chemistry homework. Peter Parker gives me charred brownies May made the night before because he thinks I needed them. He’d walk me to my classes even if he didn’t share the class with me.

But high school caused me to like Peter. High school causes me to have this overwhelming, full-blown crush on Peter. High school keeps Peter Parker around me almost all day 5 days a week. High school forces me to suffer because of my feelings. 

It was exhausting. 

For a while, I shoved the crush down. I wouldn’t let any of my happy, flirty thoughts reach my brain no matter how much I tried. I resisted reading into situations. Lately? If I don’t think of Peter at least once a minute I’d be worried my brain shut down. There have been so many different situations in the past week that have been too close for comfort. By that, I mean, too coincidental for the said situation to happen between friends. 

Last week for instance. 

During lunch period, the cafe was loud and rowdy. This was nothing new for Midtown. Except for the craziness this week was caused by the new cupcakes the lunch ladies were serving. Almost everyone in the school had purchased one. Who could blame them? The chocolate goodness frosted with rich cream cheese ice cream was too good to turn up. Both Peter and I got one. We’d heard good things from the previous lunch block!

Peter finished his cupcake almost instantly. He’d basically swallowed the whole cupcake in one bite. I, however, was a slower eater. I’d barely finished my regular lunch by the bell. Midtown has a strict rule, however, that you can’t eat outside of class. Although I paid 50 cents for the cupcake, I’d be damned if I was going to waste it. I shoved the rich, chocolatey goodness in my mouth and chewed it on my way to class with Peter. 

However, once we got to calculus, Peter glanced over at me. A boyish grin spread across his face.

“Hey,” He nudged me with his elbow. The soft cotton of his long sleeve rubbed my bicep causing me to jump a little. 

I looked at him, the bell ringing. “What?”

His smile never left his face. “You got a lil’ something,” Peter pointed to the right side of my face. His pointing was vague so I placed my hand on my cheek. “No. Not there. Here, I’ve got it.” Peter his hand to the corner of my lip and wiped off a smudge of bright pink frosting I had sitting on my face with his thumb. He then brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked the small bit of frosting off of it. Once he was satisfied, he removed the appendage from his mouth with a small pop. 

“Oh…thanks,” The heat I felt on my face was unbearable. I couldn’t look at Peter for the rest of the class. Riddle me flustered. 

Now, I lay staring at my calcium-stained ceiling at 12:30 in the morning with nothing other than my thoughts. That was too much to bear. It was a Friday night. Everyone with a social life from Midtown was out partying at Flash’s house. I was sure of it. It was almost a weekly routine at this point. Nobody talks to each other in class but once schools out…major parties happen and then the cops are called. 

Not Peter though. 

He’s always awake at this time. Not partying, that’s not really his scene. His reason was unexplained. Whenever I asked, he’d say he was studying for a quiz or test coming up. I knew he was lying though. We share most classes, so when there was a quiz I’d know. At this point, I’ve chalked it up to being something personal for him. I’m not going to force it out of him. Especially if he’s this adamant about not telling me. 

12:37l Hey…you up?

A typing bubble on Peter’s behalf popped up immediately. He was a fast responder. If I ever needed anything, big or small, I could text him and count on him replying fast. 

PI 12:37I Yeah. What’s up?

Well. Shit. I didn’t really think this through. I had no plan. I needed a plan for something like this. It’s sad that I do. Before I realized I had these feelings for Peter, I could talk to him about anything at any time. But now? I can’t get two sentences in without stuttering. He’ll reply to things I say and I’ll always, without fail, find a way to read into his response. Finding a hidden meaning. It’s a blessing and a curse.

12:39I Can I call you?

I throw my phone down and rapidly stand up once I press send. This shouldn’t be so stressful. Should it? I’ve never had a serious crush before. Let alone on a close friend. What if this ruins the entire friendship? What if May doesn’t like me? Well, she’s already met me. She seems to like me. Unless she secretly despises me. Does she secretly despise me? Is she using her kindness as a ruse? I’m pacing around my room, hands on my hips. My pajama shorts were falling down due to all the movement, despite them being tied. Was it kind of annoying? Yeah. But the butterflies in my stomach were trumping that slight annoyance. 

Focus. 

The calm facade of sirens and car honks in New York City was disturbed by the happy chirping of my phone. I froze in place from my pacing. I felt like a deer in headlights. Do I let it ring through? No. I shouldn’t. I’m the one that asked Peter to call. You did this to yourself. Follow through. 

It took me a moment to find my phone. Due to me launching up from my bed, it was tangled in the jungle that was my comforter. I was only able to find it due to my phone screen turning on with each ring. 

Don’t be a pussy.

I swipe the green ‘answer’ button on my cracked screen. “Hello?”

“Hi!” Peter’s voice boomed through the speakers. He was far too cheery and energetic for it being 12:40 in the morning. Or maybe I’m being far too critical and gloomy. Yet, I can’t be mad at his happy tone. Hearing his voice, even if we were just on a phone call, made me feel far less alone  “Did you see the moon tonight? Look out your window. It’s gorgeous tonight.”

I obliged to Peter’s request. He was right. The large, white figure truly illuminated New York City’s skyline. The glow of the moon reflected off of the small stream by my house. It was a picture-perfect moment.

“Yeah, it is.”

Peter cleared his throat. “So, what’s got you up late? Something has gotta be on your mind if you asked to call.” Peter whispered. Besides his initial greeting, Peter kept quiet on our rare phone calls. May doesn’t like him up too late. She isn’t super strict about it. However, her room was right next to his and their walls were nearly paper thin. She valued her sleep and didn’t want it interrupted by Peter’s lousy conversation skills. 

I took a deep breath. “Honestly, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Well, you’ve got me on the phone. I can read you a story if you’re struggling to sleep? I know you never finished the Harry Potter series. I could read you the books that you left off on?” Peter offered. Lord, if only Peter Parker knew how fluttery that offer made you feel. “Or maybe I can read you one of those freaky Edgar Allen Poe poems MJ loaned me. I’ve been too scared to get through them alone. You’re the person I need to push myself to read them.” “I love you.” I blurted. 

And then hung up. Smart thinking! Go me!

Peter instantly tried to call me back. My phone screen turned on once more, showing the picture of Peter and I at NY Comic Con from last fall. His dorky smile paired with his lame Luke Skywalker cosplay was enough to have me immortalize the picture as my lock screen. I huffed. Was that a good idea? Probably not. Definitely not. Yet, I did it. With no thought about the consequences. Christ, school on Monday was going to be awkward. I waited around a minute, allowing the call to ring through. I didn’t touch my phone for another 5. I was mortified. Frozen in place, still standing where I was when I accepted Peter’s first call. I was staring at the wall, waiting for something crazy to happen. Maybe this was a dream? I’d wake up in 5…4…3…2..,1…I look down at my arms and see them still holding my phone. Shit. This is reality.

Maybe Doctor Strange can magic me out of this?

My phone buzzes once more. It’s not a phone call this time, though. It’s a text. Nobody else is awake, besides the Midtown partiers who I don’t talk to. I’m not making enough noise for it to be either one of my parents texting me to quiet down. That meant it must be Peter. Amazing! Being let down over text would be a nice memory to tell my 50 cats when I’m 90 and rotting away.

PI12:49I Don’t go and leave me so easy :(

My phone buzzed again.

PI12:50I You didn’t even let me reply dickhead.

I have to deal with the consequences. I open the texts, seeing the previous messages from the day we’ve shared. After a deep breath, I pressed the call button on the top right of the screen. The call rang once before Peter answered. 

“I love you too, idiot.” 

I smiled. “I’m glad I called you tonight.”

I heard a slight chuckle on the other end. “Me too,”

#peter parker #spiderman #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #reader #reader x peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #andrew garfield #tobey maguire #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fan fic

[hazgoldenstyles]

Enquainted

In a quiet, empty bakery, there he sits sipping his strawberry tea while humming a tune of Mac DeMarco. While His soft humming gets interrupted by the clock striking twelve, he gets startled by the slightly loud noise causing his tea to spill a bit on his chin.

“Oh goody, I guess I better get outta here”, he says wiping his chin while quickly standing. He leaves a good amount of cash by his receipt and draws a sloppy flower while saying his goodbyes to the last workers on shift.

Harry has had his fair share of women in his life. So his experience was lets just say… pretty good. He’s always been really shy and sweet but the upmost caring person to anybody, even if he didn’t know them.

Most of the women in his life knew his needs and knew how fragile he was but always found a way to take advantage of him. But Harry didn’t like being alone, so he suffered with the mistreatment while also doing things that he didn’t like so much.

But Harry is a vampire.

A sweet soft one at that.

The 27 year old loves marshmallows and strawberry tea… quite weird right.

But right now he’s thinking about someone who can fulfill his needs, but also want him for who he is.

He walks down the street in his baby pink jumper and cream slacks on his way home.

While he’s walking he sees a girl sitting all alone on a bench with pretty arm warmers on.

Oh those look so fuzzy and warm Harry thinks to himself, I should go tell her.

Harry makes his way over to the girl nervously playing with the edges of his jumper and mutters out, “ex- excuse me”

The girl whips her head up and smiles, mostly because of how adorable and shy he looks. She tucks a curly strand behind her ear.

“Oh, yes” she responds.

Harry smiles a bit while rocking on the balls of his feet, “I really like your jumper, I- I think its really pretty.”

The girl smiles softly at the nervous boy, “why thank you, I love yours as well” she compliments. Staring at how the boy bashfully smiles at the ground.

“Th-thanks. My mumma got it for me back in England” he responds, looking around at his surroundings forgetting that its quite dark out and he’s just talking to a random girl while he should be on his way home. But Harry barely talks to people, so while he’s worrying, he secretly basks in it.

Not knowing how to exit the conversation with a pretty girl thats making him oh so nervous and giddy he says, “uhm okay… byeeee” he darts his eyes around while quickly making eye contact. He waves his fingers that she notices are painted a soft pink.

She smiles at that. How adorable can he get

In her own headspace forgetting that he bid her a goodbye, she sees him already a ways down the sidewalk.

Hopefully she sees him again.

🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐🫐

Sunday morning Honie walks down the street on her way to Pinkys Cafe. A quaint, cute little cafe that one of her friends recommended to her.

While she’s walking, she hears some tussling and loud voices so her interest won her over. She follows the sound to see what’s going on.

Oh lord please don’t let it be nothing too bad she says to herself.

The noise trails to a group of guys surrounded by some boy in a all blue crewneck with fuzzy sleev-

That’s the boy who complimented her a few days ago.

Immediately she rushes over trying to help ease the situation and try to get the sweet shy boy somewhere she knows is comfortable.

She walks closer to the scene with rage in her eyes, “HEY” she yells.

The group of men quickly look up and scurries off, most likely not wanting to get into any legal trouble knowing she was bound to call the police.

She wastes no time in consoling the shaking, whimpering Harry. He put his sweater paws on his eyes to control his emotions, laying his head on the pretty lady’s shoulder.

“I was j-just trying t-to g-get to work… but I s-saw them so I didn’t l-know what to d-do” he stutters in vulnerability, tears falling down his soft rosy cheeks.

How could someone be so mean to this poor angel.

She looks at him with sadness and has the perfect idea.

“Oh no, hey hey, none of that now you’re too pretty to cry you know.” She says softly with a smile on her face. He looks at her with nervousness but with a small shy smile.

He looks down playing with his flower ring anxiously, remembering what just happened. “I was actually about to go get some tea if you wanted to come with?” She questions softly.

He looks up and nods his head with misty eyes, “yes please. I think that would make me feel better”

She smiles at him fondly and holds her arm out for him to latch onto. He loops his around softly snd cautiously, darting his eyes around so he doesn’t have to make eye contact and says, “okay, I’m ready for some some tea. I-Ive been craving it since yesterday” he says shyly while walking.

“Well lets go get your tea sweet boy”

A/N- hi guys! I hope you like the first part to this series!! Give me feedback please, it really helps me and build my motivation to have the second part out faster than the original set date. Also, tell me your theories and what you think may happen in the future, it’ll be greatly appreciated. Thank you my bleu babiessss 🤍

Baby Blue Blood Masterlist

#hs #harry styles #harryedwardstyles #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harrystyleswriting #reblog #babyblueblood #i hope you like it #the second part will be longer! #vampire!harry #harry styles x black reader #harry styles masterlist #harrystyles smut