#i just thought the correlation was amusing

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband usually calls for you to join him during his bath.

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of Sukuna killing people, rough pregnancy, Sukuna being fluffy (so slightly ooc), reader is mean to Sukuna

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Ever since you shared the news of your pregnancy with your husband, Sukuna has become more loving. The man who’d talk to you however he wanted, now makes sure to soften his voice when talking to you. He wants to see you every hour of the day, even when you don’t want to see him. Sukuna is seeing how you’re struggling with your pregnancy, and he wants to check up on you constantly.

You’re not too far along that you both know of, yet you’re huge. He grows worried that his selfish want of a child will cause you harm. There’s one person that Sukuna would die for, and it’s you. If something were to happen to you because of himself then he’d– He doesn’t want to think of it.

Lately he’s been asking to take baths with you. At the end of the day, a servant walks into your chambers and informs you, “Lord Sukuna requests for you to join him in his bath, mistress.”

She bows her head to not look at you, scared that she’ll end up like the last servant that dared to look you in the eye. It was Sukuna’s doing because how dare someone look his wife in the eye? You sigh before telling her, “I’ll be there in a second.” 

She stands in the entrance of your room, given orders to not leave without you. Sure, Sukuna requests to see you but it’s an order from him. You don’t have much of an option. 

You follow behind her, and she excuses herself when you’re finally with him. Sukuna lays comfortably in the water, patiently waiting for you to get undressed and join him in the water. He watches as you take off all your garments and walk over to him when you’re completely bare. 

“You need to start leaving me alone, you’re starting to annoy me.” You tell him as you get in the water. Sukuna chuckles, finding it amusing how you’ve completely stopped fearing him. One of his hands caresses you from your breasts to your bump, resting there.

“Now, why are you getting mad at me? I thought you wanted a loving husband?” Sukuna comments, kissing the top of your head. Your hand rests on top of his, lightly squeezing it.

“I wanted one before he got me pregnant. I swear I must be carrying twins– Or the baby also has four arms. I don’t know, I’m just miserable.” You confess, and Sukuna kisses the top of your head again. He really shouldn’t have expected it to be any different. Sukuna’s huge, why would his baby be any different?

“It’s just one and done then?” He asks, and you hum in response. Maybe your answer will be different in a few years, but for now it’s that. He feels a tug on his heartstrings, seeing how much you’re struggling. He’s worried. “Are you holding up okay, though?”

“Not like we could do anything if I wasn’t.” You answer. He’s definitely much softer than your usual husband, and you would’ve loved it if you weren’t carrying a monster child. His hand remains on your stomach, and he feels as his baby kicks while you moan in pain. Sukuna shushes you, feeling as his baby moves.

“I’m trying to feel him! Shut up, woman!” He raises his voice, and you slightly turn to glare at him. A look that would surely kill you if you were anyone else.

“How does me making noise correlate with you feeling the baby! Think, Sukuna! Use your fucking brain.” You’re definitely bolder than usual, which makes him laugh. 

“You’re so beautiful when you’re yelling at me.” He says, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss it. “I love seeing you demanding and mean. It shows the effect I have on you.”

“Really?” You answer, and he hums in response. There’s no better time to bring up what’s been bugging you than now. “I hate that new servant you took in. Kick her out.”

“And why is that?” He asks. 

“She was looking at you funny.” You respond.

“In the sense?”

“She has the hots for you, and I don’t like it.”

“Hmm… What if I was looking for–” He begins and you glare at him. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he guesses that’s something that’s off limits when he tries to joke. “Don’t you want me to do more?”

“Like what?” You question, even though you should know your husband better than anyone.

“Kill her.” He answers. 

“Hmm… Up to you.” You reply. You lay comfortably on his chest, feeling as his finger traces lazy circles on your belly. You change the topic, “Why do you think it’s a boy?”

“I can’t see myself with a daughter.”

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING VICTORIOUS !!! CS55 + CL16 + LN4 X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: the podium finishers weren’t the only thing that finished that night.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, gangbang???, mmmf smut content, dubcon, pwp, double penetration + oral sex (m receiving), mentions of sexism/misogyny (NOT APPLIED TO DRIVERS), consensual degradation, squirting, praise kink, i did not proofread this (the race just finished two hours ago duh)

note: i have returned with a short blurb eheh enjoy xx

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

there was something vile about the way celebrations occurred for the ferrari drivers.

ferrari 1-2’s are rare, sure, so this called for celebration— a massive one even.

so if anyone ever saw how carlos and charles celebrated with their sweet girl, anyone would consider this… morbid.

for some, it was filthy. sinful, even. 

but having walked into carlos sainz’s hotel room after the two scarlet drivers called it an ‘early night’, lando’s eyes couldn’t find themselves to look away when he found the woman sandwiched between the two. 

both carlos and charles were spearing through her holes and carrying her like she weighed nothing, both foreheads were sweaty after fucking her the moment they’ve stepped inside the suite. 

she couldn’t even find herself to talk, her body too busy being manipulated and moved around while both her holes were stuffed with their cocks. 

any man could call her a whore for having not only one, but two men fuck her at once. any man could degrade her for allowing men to do this to her body while she writhed and whined about how good she felt when they stuffed her.

so, it was too bad that lando wasn’t just any man. he couldn’t even stop himself from watching unless someone killed him themselves.

the british man’s mouth was practically salivating when carlos lifted her up and sunk her down their cocks, watching her cunt produce liquids that indicated her pleasure. 

lando was so busy gawking at the way her cunt throbbed around charles’ cock that he couldn’t feel anything but his own cock painfully throbbing under his trousers.

he was too busy watching that he didn’t notice the way charles and carlos glanced at him with amused smirks. 

it was only when charles spoke up did he snap out of his thoughts. 

“which one?” charles asked with a teasing smirk at the british man, making lando shake his thoughts away.

when he saw how lando got confused, charles repeated, “she expressed her interest in inviting you before but not once did we see how… interested you were.”

“now you’re here,” carlos laid her down on the king sized bed gently. “so which one?” 

“i- uh- i-“ lando stammered, his buzzed self no longer there as every rational thoughts he had were long gone. 

“hm,” charles hummed before looking at carlos who stood as well. “do you think she can handle another one?”

“yeah,” the three men looked at the woman on the bed, watching her hazy eyes glossing over the three as her mouth let out, “i want more cock in me…”

“atta girl,” lando’s eyes darkened when he saw how frail, sexy, hot and beautiful the naked woman was. he never truly saw her in a new light until lando saw how fucked out she looked.

so much for a podium celebration with the ferrari men.

anyone with two eyes could tell that this was a sight to behold: her cunt sinking down on carlos’ cock, her back hole preoccupied by charles, and her mouth full of lando. 

it could be considered a renaissance painting, for she was a masterpiece waiting to be coated full of the three men who can paint her in any way they wanted her to be. 

“oh fuck, baby,” lando groaned, growling as the tip of his cock reached the back of her throat. her muffled moans only added to his pleasure as her mouth vibrated around his length. 

“mmf-“ she hummed around lando’s cock. her eyes glimmered. was it in joy or simply in overwhelming pleasure? both things correlate to one another. 

charles thrusted inside her roughly, his hands digging to her hips. he growled lowly and nipped in her ear with a murmur of, “merde, your hole is too fucking snug, bebe. you’re so fucking good for me.”

“you like that, sì?” carlos reached up to pinch her nipples, eventually slapping her tits as she yelped around lando’s length. “hm? you like it when you have three cocks inside of you? you love being a good slut for us?” 

when she was expected to give an answer, lando grabbed her hair and pulled her away from his cock. his other hand continued to stroke himself while he murmured, “c’mon baby, he wants an answer.” 

she tried to utter a word, but it was only the light slap of lando’s palm that had her uttering, “yes- yes. i love your cocks so much.” 

“good girl,” lando’s cock slapped against her cheek before he slid it back in her mouth, now fucking her face as the ferrari drivers behind and under her picked up their paces. 

“fuck- fuck, good fucking girl,” lando praised her repeatedly, hearing her choke on him quietly as she tried to get a hold of herself. 

she couldn’t. she was so… overwhelmed.

“i’m gonna fucking cum, merde,” charles hissed behind her, not even minding that his cock had gone deep inside her as he let out a groan. 

“i can feel you— oh… fuck,” carlos groaned. “you are so fucking good and tight for me, bonita… you gonna cum, huh?”

she couldn’t respond, thus earning chuckles from the three men. regardless of whether or not she could, she was beginning to feel herself cum again. and again. and again.

never mind getting a podium or a race win, because the three men knew that she was the only one who deserved the victory and the celebration that occurred between the four of them. 

it might be morbid for most, but god… no amount of champagne sprays can top the celebration she was having with the australian grand prix’s podium finishers. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

#formula one imagine #f1 smut #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut #f1 imagine #charles leclerc smut #carlos sainz jr smut #lando norris smut #cl16 #cs55 #ln4 #lando norris #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #♛ something multiplied ⎯ poly!f1 smut

[nyyrami]

𐔌 𓏲 SHE WENT TO HEAVEN AND BACK

𓂅 synopsis. scenarios in which the boys kiss you, their dearest.

𓂅 tags. satoru gojo x reader, suguru geto x reader, nanami kento x reader. fluff. suggestive themes. making out. groping. touching duh. implied intercourse. pet names ( baby, love, angel, wifey ). fem anatomy. marriage. 16 plus?

𓂅 a/n. chase atlantic >>> does the title even correlate with the writing? idk. lwky not even that suggestive other than kissing. not proofread.

SATORU GOJO ⋆˚࿔. clingy and always wants more.

satoru cant keep his hands off you. wether your at jujutsu tech, just doing you work. a slim hand would always either be resting on your thigh or wrapping you in a hug. satoru’s clingy. everyone knows it. from him just following you around. to clinging to you in the comfort of your home, he shows his love in physical touch. but when his touches are always with unchaste thoughts of you…

‘‘’toru— dont you have like, a class to teach?’’

this was the 3rd time this week that satoru had purposely been skipping his lessons with his class to stay in your office. now he was sitting on your chair, sucking on a lollipop.

that did hide the very big smile on his face. ‘‘huh? Don’t you want to spend time with your husband sweet cheeks?’’ he gripped the fabric of his shirt, directly above his heart in a feigned motion of a heart attack.

you rolled your eyes, smiling at his little antics. you did like him staying with you while you worked. but he had a job and you don’t know how much principal yaga would tolerate.

‘‘honestly though, yaga is going to lose his head when he finds out your here, again.’’ you spoke, now looking through the countless papers on your desk. you would need to find some time to properly go through all of them—

‘‘well, how can he blame me when I have a beauty for a wife?’’

you turn to look at him, a deep blush coating your cheeks. even after all these years of marriage between you, his flirty comments still made you blush like a high school girl.

‘‘satoru!’’

long, slim fingers hooked around his blindfold and pulled it down till it was hanging off his neck. blue eyes on display, you could practically feel his laughter at your expression.

‘‘whatttt? cant i love my wifey?’’

it took two long strides for him to meet you. two. and another two second for his hands to be cupping your face before he leaned in to kiss you.

his lips were soft and tasted like strawberries and instinctively you leaned in further for more. hands wrapping around his neck you pulled him closer to you. hands running through his hair.

satorus hands traveled from the small of your back to rest on the sides of your thighs. pulling you even further into him till your breasts were plush against his chest. it sent him wild.

‘‘’toru—!’’

you pull away, face flushed and skin hot. you’d almost forgotten you were in a school, and an office. anyone could walk in on you guys doing…

blue eyes trained on your flustered expression. ‘‘c’mon, baby. no one’s going to—’’ you stand back and out of his arms.

‘‘satoru you have a class to teach, go.’’

‘‘nooo, it’s fine. they can take care of themselves—’’ you were grabbing him by the arm and attempting to push him out the door, to no avail. as much as satoru looked thin, he was a muscular man underneath his uniform.

‘‘babyyyyy cant I stay a few more minutes—’’

‘‘no!’’

‘‘two minutes—!’’

unbeknownst to him, you’d managed to shove him far enough to the point where he’d crossed the threshold of the door. at your amused silence, he raised an eyebrow.

‘‘what’s so funny, eh?’’

you shut the door in his face. that clearly didn’t stop him though for you could hear his wallowing outside. him begging for you to open the door before it turned to harmless threats of eating your food before you got home. you smiled. returning back to your desk to carry on with your work. you didn’t notice it before but now you did. on your desk was a clear plastic bag full of strawberry lollipops.

NANAMI KENTO ⋆˚࿔. loving yet always working.

kento knew he was a workaholic. he spent hours going over meetings he’d been through and doing— you didn’t know. but when he’s in the comfort of your home and he’s still working and not paying attention to you. you find some way to get him to abandon his work.

this was the third time of you walking into his study and telling him to leave his work. yes, you knew it was jarring. yes, you knew it was annoying but how else would you get your husband to pay attention to you?

‘‘kentoooo, dear. why don’t you take a break?’’

you stood behind him, hands massaging his scalp. by the way you were going, he was almost inclined to ditch his work but taking another look at the computer eradicated the thought.

‘‘cmon dear, atleast eat some food.’’

‘‘im fine, thank you love.’’

ever the stubborn man he was, he refused your subtle invitations. he knew what you wanted. you wanted him to come with you and relax. maybe watch a movie or two. and he really did want to do that, but his work was—

kento snapped out of his daze when he felt you sit on his lap. lgs on either side of his, you were practically trapping him onto the chair but he wasn’t complaining.

‘‘love—?’'

‘‘your practically married to your wok, kento.’’

you assaulted him with kisses, your lips soft and featherlight. you gripped his chin, looking him in the eye once before leaning in. instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist, hand resting on the small of your back like the gentlemen he was.

for a few minutes, you didn’t break the contact. had you known this was the easiest way to get him to pay attention to you, you would’ve done it a long time ago.

pulling back, he gave a smile. his lips now puffy and red, clear evidence of your doings.

‘‘if you wanted me to kiss you, you could’ve just spoke up, love.’’

you blushed furiously, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. you have him a small pout. kento wasted no time before standing up, holding you up with him fluidly before walking towards your shared rooms.

‘‘ill show you who im married to.’’

SUGURU GETO ⋆˚࿔. touchy and very hands on.

suguru saw everything. to your quick glances or to even your slight movements where you’d move closer to him. you didn’t seem to realise you did that but he always noticed. it made him smile when he thought about it. today was one of those days but he couldn’t figure out what you wanted…

suguru was watching you. unabashedly. he was noting your movements as you walked around the room, looking through draws for something he doubted existed.

you knew he was watching you. you could practically feel his dark eyes watching your back. you didn’t know wether to turn to him.

‘‘angel, come here.’’

suguru spoke, arms now outstretched, an invitation you didn’t know you needed. he lay under the covers, practically naked and his long, dark hair was a mess. a telling of your previous activities.

you blushed when you remembered your earlier behaviour. you slid onto the bed, diving under the duvets you were greeted by his arms immediately.

hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you could practically feel the smile radiating off him. ‘‘what has you in such a twist, angel?’’

‘‘m’ nothing.’’ your voice muffled against him as you press yourself closer.

suguru knows only one way of getting whatever your thinking out of you. and so he does it. he leans down cupping your face, he leans for a kiss.

it’s hot and soft at the same time. fuelled with the desires of your love making, but soft at the same time, filled with adoration and love.

you don’t want to leave it. you know he doesn’t want to either as one of his hands crawl from your hips to rest on your behind gently pushing you further into him to the point you can feel everything.

when you break apart its hot and your panting for air. suguru only smiles, his pretty face never once leaving yours.

‘‘so, are you going to tell me?’’

you smile. ‘‘you just gave me what I wanted, love.’’ you fall back into him. this time with the intention of carrying it on further…

©NYYRAMI24 do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader #nanami kento x reader #gojo x you #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #gojo satoru smut #nanami kento smut

[johnpriceslamb]

Saw your requests were opened so here is just something I’ve been thinking about !

Arthur Morgan getting sweets/gifts and all from a secret admirer. Girlie is a sneaky one too. Her goal is to just see him be a bit happier because she finds him cute and handsome.

No need to do this! Just think it’s a cute idea.

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

˚₊‧꒰ You notice the way his gaze softens entirely when he looks at you. You shyly smile at him. To which he smiles back, ever so faintly. ꒱ ‧₊˚

BEFORE YOU PROCEED ! hyper-feminine! reader . fem! reader . reader is implied to be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . love sick Arthur . 1.2k words . Very quick mention of wlw Sadie . ok yes ik that teddy bears were originally made in the 1900s but this story says OTHERWISE !!

A small, bow-tipped teddy bear rests upon his bed roll.

Arthur was amused to say the least at the sight of the miniscule, stuffed version of a bear sitting quite cutely on the fabrics he slept on. This was the third time he's been gifted a little decorative trinket from goodness knows who. First time, a small pink tulip with a little bow tied at the start of its stem, the second time- a tiny sweet wrapped like a ribbon encasing something.

At first, he genuinely thought this was a sick prank played by one of the men to piss him off even further to the max. But with the constant treats he's been getting, Arthur comes to a conclusion that he has a secret admirer.

Each item he’s been kindly offered had a little correlation, he noticed. A bow.

He instantly knew it was from one of the ladies in the gang, since… well, no cowpoke would ever give him anything so delicate, better yet gifts bow-tipped in pink.

“— Arthur?”

A soft, dainty voice was heard from behind which pulled him away from his thoughts. The grizzled man turns his head slightly, away from the small teddy on his bed and to the young lady near the entrance of his tent.

You notice the way his gaze softens entirely when he looks at you. You shyly smile at him. To which he smiles back, ever so faintly.

It was obvious amongst everyone that he’s grown to have a soft spot amongst the women in camp- specially you. How his hand rests upon the small of your back to guide you away from trouble, or the way he visibly becomes stressed at the rumours of you away from camp to visit a shop in a town nearby. The only time he relaxes completely is when he hears that squeal of yours when coming back, showing off the jewellery or such you bought to the other ladies.

In your hands rests a small bowl of stew, the scent of it makes him light up just a bit.

“..F’ me?” He asks— almost shyly.

“Mhm,” you nod sweetly, offering it to him. You can’t help the faint giddiness at the sight of the tulip you secretly gifted him in a little glass of water, which rested near the ledge of his bed.

“You didn’t have to.” His large hand engulfs yours in the process of taking it, “Thank ya kindly, sweetheart.”

“Anything for you,” You give him a toothy smile. He looks at your face for a tad bit too long, before reluctantly glancing away with a deep hum.

A ghost of a cheeky smile etches on your face. You feign curiosity, peaking over his shoulder to peer at the small bear on his bed.

He notices your curious gaze. “Was a gift, if you were wonderin’.”

“Oh? by who?” Innocence feigns in your eyes. Cheeky girl.

Wispy lashes tinker softly as he eats a spoonful of the food you brought with a soft grunt at the end, indicating that the food was rich with flavour he had taken a liking to.

He hesitates for a moment, before answering. “I uh.. I don’t know.”

“…You don’t know?” You quirk a brow, giggling softly.

Something about that giggle makes his knees buckle.

“Yeah. That’s the thing— I don’t know,” He grumbles, “Been gettin’ gifts from someone in the gang. ‘S like I got some secret admirer or sumthin’.”

The light pink bow in your hair makes his eyes squint a bit.

“May I see?” You ask with a small smile.

“Go ‘head.” He gives you full permission with a slight nod to his head, the hat he adorned concealing those blue eyes.

You toddle to his bed, sitting oh-so prettily near the edge. The teddy bear was now in your lap, as you played with it for a bit. You rub its ears with the pads of your thumb and index finger.

He has a faint grin at the sweet sight.

“You gonna name it?” You ask.

“I ain’t a child,” He grunts, only to tighten his lips at the way your face meekly droops at his comment. He lets out a soft sigh, pondering for a moment.

“I dunno.. Uh.. Coco?”

“Coco?” You brighten up at the interesting name. He sees the way your smile widens at the choice of title, happy he indulged in your silly sweetness. You coo out a little ‘hi, Coco’ to the stuffie as if it was alive

Damnit, you were far too cute. He has to tilt his head down a bit to the floor so you wouldn’t see the way his temples became a soft red colour.

“Coco is so, so cute!” You prattle, taking one of his little limbs and moving it side to side to symbolise the teddy waving at him.

“Mmhm. It’d be nice to know who’d be giving me these things, so I could thank em properly. I got this.. underlyin’ sense of guilt for not being able to say thanks.”

You smile at his words. Arthur was a gentleman to women, and you were no exception to his gentle behaviour. A soft flicker in your doe eyes was apparent. Perhaps from the light, or from the way your heart melts at his sincerity. No man could compare to him in your eyes.

It takes you a bit to reply. “You’re sweet, y’know that?”

He takes one more spoonful of the stew.

“I ain’t, sweetheart.”

⋆˚🐾˖°

Arthur was gone. Gone from camp and away within the everlasting greens with another— probably Charles to go hunting for food. Food supply was running low as of now- which you made a mental note to buy some food if you ever went back to town, that is.

The perfect time to give him his little gift.

You cheekily look left and right.

Delicate flat-soles heels clicked gently on the grass beneath, tip-toeing towards his tent. With the gentle sounds of ruffled fabrics coming from your sleeves leads to the slight rustle of the wrapped-up sweet that was placed gently on his bed.

You look around to see if anyone was close by, only to toddle away sneakily- albeit a bit clumsily.

Just a few hours later, you see his figure coming back to camp, lazily hunched on his horse with game behind him. You see Charles behind on his horse— Taima. Pretty thing she was, very friendly to you.

You can’t help but admire the two men whom stroll in with said game lurched over their shoulders as they approached the area of the make-shift kitchen Mr. Pearson was lounging.

You tinker your long lashes, giving them a shy wave. You beam as they both return a wave, with Charles noticing first and giving a small nod in return as well as a faint smile.

The hunter whom adorned a feather earring was close to you, he took upon the role of a big-brother to you. You can’t help but admire him.

A nudge to Arthur’s arm gets his attention and immediately has a smile on his face as he catches a glance at your pixie-like figure from near by.

You turn around and leave the sight, probably to go help with some other chores.

Arthur’s eyes narrows a bit at the light pink coloured bow attached to the back of your head, seemingly pondering about something before going back to skinning the animal.

He feels like he knows who his little secret admirer is, but he won’t comment just yet.

⋆˚🐾˖°

He was a fool, but he wasn’t ignorant.

Each present he’s been given was obviously from a lady, someone with a good taste in perfume— considering that the teddy that he kindly received was laced with a sweet, feminine scent. Not to mention the light pink bow Coco had wrapped around his little neck.

He knew it wasn’t from Karen, she’s not quite interested in the colour pink nor did she enjoy stuffed animals.

It wasn’t Tilly either, she was more of a little sister to him, and she wasn’t a fan of sweets anyway.

Mary-Beth, perhaps? No.. That girl was smitten with the former O’driscoll member.

Abigail was taken, and Miss Grimshaw.. no way.

Sadie did not even come to his mind. He knew very well that the gunslinger would probably pick you over him in a heart beat.

All that was left was.. you.

Your acting skills were top-notch, he had to give you that. It took him almost an entire week to figure it out. Quite so did he question himself if it was you who bestowed these lovely trinkets to him- you acted so clueless when you first saw that teddy.

His blue eyes stare at the sweet that was placed on his bed. He looked like a fool, giddy feelings rushing up to his stomach as he picks up the small treat. It just had to be you.

He savours the taste of the dark chocolate candy, stuffing the wrapper in his pocket once he was done with it. The bitter-sweet flavour bursting in his tastebud once he chewed on it.

Should he confront you? He’s not sure himself. Confrontation wasn’t the best when it came to you, he’d guess that you’d probably stammer like a little bunny and squeak away.

He turns his head just a bit— and there you were, sly smile with that sweet little dimple that accentuated your bunny-like features. You were sat with the other ladies, mindlessly joining in their conversation as the eye contact you both held seemed like an eternity.

That dumb smile was on his face again.

It was you.

And he was glad it was you.

“Damn woman,” he grunts under his breath. It wasn’t in a derogatorive way, oh- absolutely not. He’s smitten. He’s quick on his feet, trudging up towards you from behind in a rapid pace. That damn smile you gave him got him feeling so shy.

You don’t expect the big smooch coming your way in the matter of seconds.

#fem! reader #rdr2 x you #rdr2 #afab! reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #arthur morgan x fem! you #charles smith x reader

[missmeinyourbones]

BOYS ARE STUPID

cw: implied f!reader, mentions of girlhood and teenage insecurity, the girls are gossiping and suna is jealous >:) wc: 2.4k

a/n: so this is technically a suna x reader piece but it kinda turned into something else along the way ??? with that being said, this was truly a blast to write. something about girlhood is so special to me :( so this felt like therapy to be able to bring to life LOL, completely inspired by this cute art of sister!suna and her loser brother

Sometimes, you think Suna just speaks to get a reaction out of you.

A true wild card, you’re never quite sure what nonsense is brewing behind his eyes and atop his tongue. He likes the element of surprise, confusing you with a random fact or flustering you with a lewd remark. You’ve become used to his antics, taking what he gives you and no longer expecting anything less than odd when it comes to him. 

Laying on top of his plaid comforter, you can hear muffled insults being thrown through the walls of his bedroom. His tone isn’t seriously angry or upset, but instead laced with a special annoyance that only a younger sibling can pull from their senior.  

The bickering abruptly ends as Suna swings his bedroom door open to return to you. Briefly, you spot his younger sister in the hallway behind him—slightly pouting with her arms crossed in defense. She goes to open her mouth once more, but Suna is quick to grab what he can from his desk (an Animal Crossing themed plushie) and throw it her way before slamming the door shut.

You send him a humorous glance, one that silently begs for the details of the quarrel. Your boyfriend reads your interest like a book, before plopping himself in his desk chair with a sigh. 

“My sister wants to hang out with you,” he drops casually.

“What? Really?”

Your head immediately lifts from Suna’s pillow in excitement, turning your attention to where he swivels his chair in lazy circles. 

“Yup,” he emphasizes the pop of the p through his pursed lips, “said she wants to save you from my cooties, or something stupid.”

Your nose slightly twitches at his big brother-esque explanation—catching your scolding glare, he holds his hands up in innocence, “Her words, not mine.” 

You sit on the statement, still puzzled at how the quarrel in the hallway correlates with the information at hand. Seeing your brow still furrowed with confusion, he clarifies, “She also thinks you’re cooler than me.”

You scoff with amusement, “I mean, she’s right about that.”

Suna’s younger sister, a timid but incredibly witty girl, had honestly never expressed too much of an interest in you. It’s not that she didn’t like you, she was just quiet, young. Often reserved and keeping to herself, much like her brother, whose mischievous personality never quite shined through until you’d gotten to know him better.

The mere thought of her insinuating an interest in your friendship has you beaming with an overwhelming excitement.  

Nearly jumping from his bed, you sit yourself up against the headboard with an impatient, “Well, what’d you tell her?”

Now, it’s Suna’s turn to scoff, “No, obviously.”

He drags his feet along the navy rug of his room as he swings back and forth in his chair, kicking his legs out before him every now and then. He looks oddly young doing so, like a child ashamed of an incident at school or a puppy who’s just chewed up the couch cushions. 

“Rintaro!” your tone spills with frustration. You throw a pillow his way, one he dodges with ease, “Why would you say that? I’d love to take her out!”

“She’s a freak,” he’s quick to retort, voice trailing off as his sentence strings itself along, “and maybe I don’t wanna share you.”

The realization sets in slowly—the shyness you believed to be guilt was actually jealousy. You swear you see a faint blush lingering on his pale cheeks as he holds his tongue between his teeth. The sight soothes the irritation that threatens to flood your response. 

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, Rin,” you do your best to softly reassure his childish thought, “unless you really do have cooties.”

His tongue presses against the inside of his bitten cheek at he sits on his response, “Well if I do, then that sucks for her. Because you definitely have them by now.”

With an amused smile, you extend a grabby hand in his direction, motioning him to join you in his bed. With an immature scowl, he begrudgingly does—slowly standing from his desk and sulking his way over to your embrace. 

He slumps his full body weight on top of you, fighting off a chuckle when he hears your stifled groan beneath him. Your fingers find the tuffs of hair that decorate the nape of his neck. He feels himself relax beneath the tender scratch of your nails, before feeling your breath tickle his ear.

“Tell her I’ll take her out to lunch, we can plan a date,” you conclude in a whisper that leaves him little room to argue.

Suna internally pouts at your use of the word date with anyone other than him, let alone his sister. He’s smart enough to know the lack of threat behind it, but he can’t help himself—he’s alarmingly stubborn and incredibly jealous when it comes to you, regardless of whoever it is taking your time away from him.

But still, something about the pleading in your voice and the excitement flashing behind your eyes has him giving in to your command without a fight. 

“Fine.”

...

Rintaro’s sister is just like him, practically a lab-created clone of his reserved, yet witty persona.

A part of you would think they were twins if it weren't for her evident childish flair—her zebra print backpack slightly bounces as she walks, the scrunchie that loosely holds her ponytail is wrapped in sequins of purple and blue, her cellphone is decorated with stickers of sleeping farm animals. 

Though years younger and barely her own person yet, she embodies a lot of his little quirks. Her eyes squint of the slightest judgement at your choice in restaurant, her mouth permanently resides in a pressed line when it’s not being stuffed with buttered bread, her laughter—though sparse and quiet—is contagiously light and airy.

The lunch is going as well as expected. It’s fine, a few awkward pauses here and there, paired with a few conversations that go a bit farther than anticipated. You find yourself thinking about your thirteen-year old self, if the two of you would’ve been friends who giggle in the cafeteria about silly, nonsensical things. 

Her smooth and collected voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“What do boys like?” she abruptly inquires between generous gulps of pink lemonade. You watch the rose colored liquid crawl up her straw as she makes a dent in the amount rather quickly. 

A bit taken back at the loaded question, you stutter, “What do they like?”

“Yeah, like, I don’t know—” she trails off, suddenly anxious and dismissive compared to her prior attitude, as she tries to find strength in her words, “—is there something that you can do…to make them like you?”

The innocent question breaks your heart, having been a growing and insecure teenager once yourself. You can’t help but ache to know her reasoning for the sudden inquiry, and why on earth she’s asking you of all people for advice on the matter. 

Not wanting to belittle her vulnerability, you send a reassuring smile her way. “Why’re you asking me?” bubbles from your throat with a friendliness you hope she finds comfort in. 

Her familiar golden eyes bore back at you in judgement once more, before elaborating what she thought to be obvious. Almost as if it physically hurts to explain herself, she does so in a rushed ramble.

“Because you’re cool, and Rintaro really really likes you,” she idly twirls her fork between her fingers to busy her hands, “and if my loser brother managed to score someone like you, then there must be something I can do to get people to like me, too.”

Her blunt delivery makes you laugh, which brings the faintest twitch of a smile to her face. After all, if there’s one thing the Suna siblings have in common, it’s making people laugh with their lack of filter. 

You want to reach across the table and offer her a hand—as a sister, a friend, a mentor, anything she’d be willing to accept. You want to grab her by the shoulders and insist that she’s perfect the way she is right now, that she shouldn’t change to please anyone, let alone teenage boys who don’t know their ass from their elbow. You ache to drill into her mind that girlhood is grueling. That it strips you of an innocence you didn’t even realize you had until it’s already gone, leaving nothing but a hollowed core behind.

However, looking across the table at the timid girl, you see a reflection of not only your boyfriend, but of yourself in her uneasy adolescence. With a deep exhale, you decide on the simplest, most poetic terms you can muster. 

“Boys are stupid,” you retort with confidence, “and I wish I could say they get smarter as they get older, but I don’t think they do.”

A foreign look flashes across her face, and you're not too sure if it’s one of surprise or disappointment. Either way you go on, taking a small pride in the way her eyes light up with interest at your continuation.

“But just because they’re stupid, doesn’t mean there aren’t a few good ones, too,” you remind her. 

Because as you think about a jealous Rintaro sulking in the grey walls of his childhood bedroom, you decide that’s what life and love and boys are—sometimes stupid, sometimes good, sometimes both and somehow neither.

She chews on your words for a few silent moments, thinking them over and playing out their possibilities. 

“You should just be yourself,” you conclude when the server passes your table, dropping off a dessert that resembles a middle schooler’s dream concoction.  “Boys will like that, or at least the boys who matter will.”

After a few moments of silence and a dessert that’s begging to be devoured now sitting in the center of the table, the younger Suna speaks up. 

“Is my brother stupid?” she eyes the plate with a spoon in hand and a hungry, determined look in her eye.

The simple question has you laughing once more, before confirming with a mere nod, “The stupidest.”

...

Suna practically races to the door when he hears your car pull into his driveway.

Trying (and failing) to play it cool, he casually waits by the threshold for the two of you to prance through the entryway. He’s nearly knocked off his feet by what he sees—his little sister, always stoic and snarky, is smiling from ear to ear as she giggles her way inside with you trailing not far behind.

She makes eye contact with her older brother, immediately changing her soft expression to her usual cold and disinterested glare. 

Rintaro sees right through her act. 

After all, he reacts the same way when he’s caught smiling at your words by the twins. He can’t help but swallow back the realization that, maybe that’s just the infectious effect you have on the Suna family. 

You greet him with a grin as you take your shoes off, making your way towards the extended arm raised by his side. He wastes no time in motioning you towards the privacy of his bedroom. You follow his not-so-subtle lead, but not without thanking his sister again for your date today. 

As you enter his room with his hand guiding your back, he releases a long-held sigh of relief. 

“So, what’d you guys talk about?” he immediately spills over—meant for you, but his sister responds from the hallway before he can fully close the door to his bedroom. 

Through the tiny creak, she smirks before howling, “How stupid you are.”

Suna’s quick to swing his door open once more, throwing the nearest item decorating his floor (today, a dirty Inarizaki hoodie) her way before firing back with mockery. 

“Ooooh, good one. You should be a comedian.” 

His door slams shut before she can retaliate, and the deja vu of the situation has you fighting off a smirk. Suna stares at the wooden panel for a moment before taking a sharp inhale and turning towards you.

The look in his eye completely contradicts his prior expression of annoyance as he beams your way, realizing he didn’t greet you properly in the midst of his anxiousness. 

He reaches for your hand and places a sweet kiss on it’s back, “Hi, pretty.”

You return his words with a laugh, “Hi, Rin.”

“How was it?” he asks earnestly this time, all attention devoted to you. 

While he may have been jealous of his sister spending time with you, he’s also a bit antsy to hear how it went. He wants to know where you ate, what you talked about, how much money he’s going to venmo you later for the bill (even though he knows your stubborn ass will refuse it). 

He wants to know if his sister showed you any embarrassing pictures of him from middle school, or if you told her about the time he tripped down the stairs. He wants to know if the two of you sat in an uncomfortable silence at first, if it eventually faded into a natural conversation of banter and giggles. He wants to know if you’d do it again, if you liked spending time with one of the people who made him the instigator he is today.

After all, you are two very important people in his life—in different ways of course. He loves you every single morning when he wakes up, wants to smother you in every ounce of love he can muster. He wants to strangle his younger sister most of the time, yes, but that doesn't mean it’s not out of love.

With his nerves melting away, he’s more than relieved when your lips stretch into a soft smile. 

“It was fun,” you beam with giddy excitement. “She reminds me a lot of you.”

Suna dryly chuckles. “Weird, it’s almost like we’re related,” sarcasm drips through his quick response.

Your hand pulls away from his and finds his arm with a smack, but it feels like a win for Suna when you giggle at this words and let him pull you down onto his bed.

He brushes a few stray hairs from your forehead, “So what’d you guys actually talk about?”

His eyebrows furrow at your sudden expression, one with equal elements of guilt and mischief. 

You grin, “Well, I mean, technically she’s not wrong.”

#suna rinatro #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna fic #suna rintaro fic #suna fluff #suna rintaro fluff #suna drabble #suna rintaro drabble #suna imagine #suna rintaro imagine #haikyuu suna #haikyuu x reader

[hotpinkhoshi]

49 FROM SMUT LIST WITH CHEOL I'M HAVING NASTY CHEOLROT OMG

pairing: seungcheol x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, established relationship prompt: "you can feel me inside of you, here put your hand on your stomach." word count: 2.3k lmaooo a drabble she says... warnings: cheol is kinda pervy, bulge kink, unprotected sex, fingering u know the usual a/n: WELL THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME ENJOY also sorry it took so long i hope the cheolrot is still going strong so you can enjoy this

an innocent movie night with seungcheol was never just an innocent movie night.

at first you'd been mildly annoyed - you'd been excited to watch the new thor installment now that you could finally watch it with your boyfriend. it was hard to pay attention when he was grazing his fingers along the bare skin of your shoulder with one hand, playing with the hem of your skirt with the other.

"pay attention to the movie," you chided after the first twenty minutes.

seungcheol only huffed out a laugh, turning to kiss your neck. "i can't. you're too distracting."

you pulled back, furrowing your eyebrows. "i'm distracting? you're the one trying to slip your hand up my skirt!"

"well, why'd you have to wear a skirt anyway? hmmm?" he retorted.

you sputtered in response, rolling your eyes and nudging him away playfully. "it's hot outside and i thought you could behave and watch the movie that we both waited months to see! silly me."

seungcheol was only amused by your reply, not at all put off by your half-hearted shoves. he tipped his head back in a laugh, tugging you closer to him on the couch before pressing his face into your shoulder.

"you're so cute when you're annoyed. also, name one time i've behaved when you're in one of these short little skirts?"

well, he had a point there, now that you thought about it. there was definitely a correlation. but you hadn't worn this skirt - which wasn't even that short - with the intention of getting felt up during the movie. you'd hoped maybe he'd wait until after.

"okay, you might be right," you conceded.

that was all it took before seungcheol was reaching for the remote to stop the movie, tugging you onto his lap easily with one hand. you were like putty for him, but you didn't mind.

it wasn't like his soft touches during the movie or just his mere presence wasn't enough to have you halfway turned on already, anyway.

he'd only been back from tour for a week or two and you'd already fucked in every room of your apartment at least twice - and yet, you were insatiable. you couldn't get enough of his hands, his lips, or his skin on yours.

"c'mere, get this off," he murmured, easily tugging your top off and tossing it across the room. "god damnit. lace? and you're still gonna pretend like you didn't want me to fuck you instead of watch the movie?"

you blushed as seungcheol's eyes admired the intricate red laced design of your bralette, one of the many lingerie purchases you'd made while he was gone, because he was always a sucker for silk and lace and garters only he was allowed to rip off of you.

it was sort of like a coping mechanism every time you came upon videos of him enjoying himself on tour and you felt a bit of an emptiness in your heart - you'd log online and shop around for a new bra and panty set or a sheer slip that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

so far, cheol had barely even scratched the surface of your new, expanded collection.

"you like it?" you asked, slipping your fingers through his hair and grazing your fingernails along his scalp. "i'd show you the matching panties, but i'm not wearing any."

you watched as seungcheol's expression shifted from one of awe to the one that meant danger for you. a cocky smirk, his tongue pressing into his cheek as his eyes roamed your body.

"so fucking naughty," he said, shaking his head. "you act so sweet but here you are sitting next to me, no panties, pretending like you don't want me to flip you over and fuck you until you can't even remember your own name."

with each word, his hands roamed from your waist up the curve of your torso, thumbs only grazing the fabric over your nipples until both hands cupped each side of your neck. you felt your breath catch in your throat, all senses heightened as warmth spread through your belly.

"naughty for you," you whispered. "only you."

seungcheol's eyes filled with desire, his jaw working and chest puffing up only slightly at the reminder that you were his. it got him every time, satisfying that possessive side that you had no problem feeding into.

"that's right," he said through his teeth, pulling you so close his nose brushed yours. "gonna make sure you never forget it."

even though you were slightly elevated over him at this angle on his lap, he didn't let you forget he was the one with the power. one hand still on your throat, he trailed the other all the way down your body until it nestled between your thighs.

you whimpered as he made contact with your center, his thick fingers wasting no time dipping into your entrance to feel just how wet you'd gotten for him. he wasn't feeling gentle today, but you didn't mind. you liked it either way.

"undo my jeans," he told you, his words just barely penetrating the fog of arousal once he'd eased one finger inside of you.

you followed his orders quickly, hands finding his belt and fumbling to unfasten the metal. it was a little hard to focus, considering the slow pace he'd began between your legs, but after a minute you managed to get his belt undone and his jeans opened.

"that's a good girl," he muttered, rewarding you with a ghost of a kiss against your lips. "knew you could be good for me."

"cheol," you whispered, your hands reaching for the waistband of his briefs. you knew better than to slide your fingers inside, but you had to at least feel him, thick and hard through the fabric. "want you. no, need you."

seungcheol kept his hold on you, forehead now pressed against yours as he shook his head ever so slightly. "you're too tight, baby. gotta stretch you out if you're gonna take me."

"i can take it," you whined, hips shifting impatiently. "please, let me try."

he was clearly amused with your protests, not even a little bit swayed. it wasn't often that he changed his mind, but you thought it was worth a shot.

"you're squeezing around one finger, but you think you can take this?" he asked, hips lifting up so his cock pressed more firmly into your hand. "c'mon, you know better."

your bottom lip jutted out in a pout which only made your boyfriend grin, despite how absolutely frustrated you were after only a few minutes of teasing. he did, however, add a second finger with his next stroke, completely cutting off any coherent thought you'd been forming.

"that feel good, sweetheart?" he asked, knowing full well you wouldn't be able to form a response. "you're getting so wet. fucking soaking my jeans."

you moaned, lips forming a retort but getting lost in a moan once his thumb started pressing circles into your clit. it didn't help he was curling his fingers with each upstroke, bumping dangerously against your g-spot.

if he kept it up, it wouldn't be long until you were pushed over the edge just from his fingers.

"ch-cheol," you managed, forcing your eyes open so that you could look at your boyfriend. "don't wanna... cum like - like this."

as much as he liked to hold up the illusion of control, seungcheol wasn't about to force you to cum when you didn't want to or make you hold back an orgasm for his own selfish desires. there was a time and place for denial, and honestly, he rarely had the self control for that anyway.

"okay, baby." he told you, pressing a sweet kiss to your jaw. "got carried away a little, didn't i?"

you only hummed in response, shoulders sagging with relief when he slipped his fingers out of you and you felt your impending orgasm finally retreat. at least it bought you a few minutes and you could cum on his cock instead of his fingers.

"open," seungcheol said simply, hardly giving you a moment to prepare before he was shoving his two fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself on his digits.

you were so taken off guard (and really, you shouldn't have been - he loved to make you lick yourself off his fingers while he watched) that you hardly noticed his other hand dropping from your neck to free his cock from his briefs. he gave himself a few strokes before lining up with your entrance.

almost subconsciously, you lowered your hips to meet him halfway, finally feeling his impressive length and girth bottoming out in one go. seungcheol groaned, muttering something undoubtedly filthy under his breath that you couldn't catch.

your mouth dropped open in a loud moan and his fingers dragged down your lower lip, trailing your saliva down your chin and neck messily. both of his hands settled on your hips, pushing your skirt up so that he could appreciate the sight of his cock filling you up.

you, on the other hand, were already seeing stars, feeling every single inch stretching you out deliciously. this was why you'd wanted to cum around him. it couldn't compare to his fingers, no matter how precisely he could hit your g-spot like that.

no, this was much, much better.

"cheol," you reached for him, hands gripping onto his shoulders to ground you back to earth. "feels so good. won't last long."

as his eyes lifted back up to your face, he couldn't help the arrogant smirk that formed on his lips. it really did get him every time, knowing you were this far gone for him already, only him.

"c'mon sweetheart, can you move your hips for me? yeah, just like that," he praised once you began a slow grind, no doubt feeling his cock deeper than ever. "good girl, just roll them like that, nice and easy."

tears rimmed your eyes from the sheer pleasure, so overwhelmed by how perfectly seungcheol filled you. it was like a new sensation every time, no matter how many times he'd had you falling apart for him just like this.

"s-so good. can feel you so deep like this." you wanted to close your eyes but you didn't want to stop looking at him. you didn't want to miss the way his brows furrowed with pleasure, head tilted back against the couch cushion, eyes scanning down your body.

"fuck. baby, you can feel me inside of you. here, put your hand on your stomach," seungcheol said, voice gravelly as he reached for one of your hands.

pressing it down onto your lower stomach, your eyes widened once you realized you could feel his cock bulging against you from the inside. seungcheol couldn't take his eyes off it now and now it was all you could do not to cum right there.

with this position and the way you were grinding your hips forward and back, it was like you were constantly full and with each rotation, you felt his tip hitting your spot every damn time.

"cheol, cheol," you could only say his name at first, struggling with the words. "i'm close, oh god, baby..."

seungcheol finally tore his eyes away from the sight of himself inside of you, grabbing your hips and helping you along in your grind and increasing the pace just slightly.

"be a good girl and let go for me, yeah? cum all over my cock, so i can fill you up so good. wanna feel you cum first, hm?"

his words were enough to push you closer and closer to that precipice, at this point he was in complete control of your hips as you'd lost yourself to the pleasure and could only hold onto him weakly.

the hand on your stomach slipped down between your legs, knowing you needed just that little bit more to finally reach your high. the moment your fingers circled your clit the first time, you gasped, your orgasm washing over you in powerful waves.

just barely, you registered seungcheol's groan, his own orgasm only extending yours even further as you felt the warm pulses of his release. your body bent over his, arms snaking around his neck as your entire body shook with each pulse of pleasure.

"that's my girl, oh fuck, so so good. feels like heaven, you have no idea," you heard seungcheol mutter into your hair as you curled around him, your walls still pulsing with the aftershocks.

it took quite a while for your body to return to earth as seungcheol ran soothing hands along your back and pressed kisses into your neck, despite the thin layer of sweat you could feel on your skin there.

"can't move," you whispered, fully relaxed against your boyfriend. "no energy. must be carried."

seungcheol snorted next to your ear. "fuck that. i don't even think i can stand up yet. we might just have to stay here forever."

you scrunched your nose, finally sitting up to face him. "that's disgusting. we need to shower."

"okay, fine. just give me a minute," cheol agreed, gently lifting you from his lap to the cushion on the other side of him and pulling his briefs back up.

while he did up his jeans again, you had enough feeling in your lower limbs to stand from the couch, adjusting your bra and skirt.

when you turned back to see if he was finished, you realized cheol had lifted up the back of your skirt with one finger, admiring the view of your bare ass, a smirk turning up one side of his lips. "hey! stop that."

"literally cannot help it, baby," he told you with a laugh, unable to resist a quick but gentle slap to your backside. "agh!" he responded once you swatted back at him.

"and this is why we couldn't even watch one movie. all your fault!" you said, snatching your shirt up from the floor.

seungcheol laughed as he followed you back to the bathroom, wrapping his arms around your waist so that you were forced to waddle, giggling as he blew a raspberry into your neck.

"hey, we can try again after we shower."

you scoffed. "are you going to behave this time?"

"i make no promises."

#seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen imagine #seungcheol smut #scoups imagine #seungcheol imagine #svt imagine #svt smut #writing

[zeep-xanflorp]

ok i'm just gonna ramble ab unmortricken bc i have exactly ZERO COHERENT THOUGHTS AB IT

evil morty backstory - i rlly like that they just made him some random morty who rose above everything after getting sick of rick's abuse. it makes what he did feel even more earned and weighty. i think his motivation is a bit extreme still but i can't rlly blame him.

it's cool seeing infinity beyond the central finite curve. the jetsons inspired bit was v amusing bc i forgot about them lmao. but otherwise it seems absolutely wild west beyond the curve and i LIVE for that.

i also didnt imagine that we'd be seeing him again. i thought the way he left the show was perfect and if they brought him back it would just feel cheap but it DOESNT in this episode i love his appearance.

i rlly like seeing our morty be supportive of rick. he's literally trying everything to cheer him up and it's very important to me.

the prime decoys confuse me. like do they all share a consciousness? is prime just very very good at fucking with ppl that he's made all the decoys communicate w each other?

evil morty outsmarting rick is a great recurring theme in the episode. "filter for probability stasis" YEAH U TELL HIM LITTLE DUDE. we've never seen a morty like that EXCEPT for him and i think it's wonderful.

the exchange between rick and evil morty. "you're such a narcissist" / "literal glass house" / "you think you're better than me?" / "jesus i HOPE SO" SHITTING

i didnt initially like the decoy trap thing being full of loads of other ricks. it made me feel like our rick wasn't very important to this dude and rick just made an enemy of a guy who didn't know he existed. BUT i don't stand by that anymore. the rest of the episode made me change my mind very quickly with.

the omega device. holy fuck this is the worst reveal to come out of this episode. she wasn't just killed, she was ERASED by prime in every reality. like she is GONE gone. that's why we've never seen her, save in flashbacks and memories. she's gone.

and i'm pretty sure it's our rick's fault that he did that. we see his beth and his diane be killed by a bomb, not wiped from reality like slo mobius is later in the episode. so his family was killed BEFORE all the shit with the omega device. ik correlation ≠ causation, but it rlly explains why our rick in particular is so hungry for revenge. if he was the one that made prime kill diane everywhere then he had to be the one to make prime pay for it.

i like how the multiple monitors seems to be prime's signature move. it happens here and in the s6 premiere.

and oh fuck the parallels. "when i invent something it works, it's called being talented" in story train vs "when i make a weapon in works."

oh man the diane head weapon thing. it's interesting that it was programmed to mock rick sexually, but even on our rick who knows it's a trap, it still affects him seeing her face again. "god i missed that face." and then the blank stare when she asks for a kiss. pretty sweet and fucked up.

rick and evil morty having to work together to get their portals working. the contrast between our morty freaking out and evil morty blank staring.

the bit with the portal closing too soon. i know it happened earlier this season and i think it's so funny lmao.

I CANNOT STRESS TO YOU ENOUGH THAT I WAS SO MADE WHEN I WORKED OUT THAT INSTEAD OF YELLING WHILE GOING THROUGH THE CURVE THING IN THE MIDFLE OF THE EP HE WAS SCREAMING "PRIME" THOSE DIABOLICAL LITTLE BASTARDS AT ADULT SWIM.

prime calling rick the Wife Guy. hilarious. raises questions. makes me gnaw on my cell bars.

AND THEN the second incredible reveal of the episode: "Honestly, Wife Guy, I do miss when it was just us. The only two Ricks who actually invented portal travel." WHAT bestie prime bby girl u need to say that again. you guys were the ONLY ones who invented interdimensional travel, every rick's claim to fame. but no they just got the technology from prime who started a boys club of ricks who wanted to leave their lives behind that our rick refused.

but the reference to a time when they were closer, when it was only them - HELLO?? maybe i'm grasping at straws bc i want them to bang but holy shit.

the confirmation of the fan theory that rick based his AI voice on his wife. 10/10.

and then the fight scene. oh gods the fight scene. rick just screaming that he'll kill prime. prime regenerating constantly, looking unscathed as our rick becomes more and more dishevelled. it's too perfect i CANT. but otherwise they both seem pretty evenly matched w all the implants and stuff so without the regeneration i think rick would've had him. oh well.

rick like literally died during the fight.

the cool grandson/shitty grandpa exchange gives me breath. i LOVE how it's a morty that outsmarts prime. it's what he deserves.

prime still trying to be a smartass to evil morty, growing more and more panicked as it goes on bc he doesn't know what to do with the situation and control for once is not in his hands.

"what are u gonna 'aw geez' me to death?"

evil morty not even explaining his plan, just silently dragging in our rick and reviving him. saying "knock yourself out" with the intended double meaning. prime's almost scared expression as rick gets dragged in.

and then our rick has a choice. he can stop evil morty from keeping the weapon plans or he can kill prime. but that's a choice he made already. it's not even a decision. so his other enemy gets away.

the brutal brutal scene at the end when rick is just hitting prime. no tech, no implants, no gadgets. just fists. and rick beats him literally to a pulp as prime screams and laughs at him and taunts him further. it's meant to be sickening. it's meant to be personal. and it accomplishes that perfectly.

they don't even show prime's body in great detail. it's RIGHT in the background but we heard the sounds of the punches, we saw his nose break and his bloody teeth and haemorrhaging eyes and his brains coming out the side of it head and all we can make out is his fucked up swollen and broken face in the background as he sits still attached to the chair, a river of his blood pouring from the room.

but its not triumphant. they made rick's revenge hollow and bittersweet. its over but it destroyed rick in the process. who is he now that he isn't hunting prime? fucking no one.

then "look on down from the bridge" starts playing. we heard this in season 1 in rick potion #9 after morty had to bury a version of himself. he was struggling with the purpose of his life after switching universes. but he deals with it and overcomes it.

i think that scene is rick, for the first time in the entire show, struggling with his nihilistic philosophy. bc yes, he's shown to be an existentialist in the show (the difference being existentialists are "nothing matters but this matters to me" instead of "nothing matters so i don't have to do anything"). he had a drive. he had ppl he cared about. but now he's reached his goal he just feels empty and hollow. everything's meaningless and he's NOT okay with that. he never has been, but he has to grapple with that finally now he doesn't have a distraction. i don't think he can just bounce back and move past what happened.

ppl are saying this episode felt overstuffed and maybe it was but i'm very pleased with it and want to know where it's going.

i feel we still don't know the full story with prime. i'm predicting a flash back episode in the future explaining what the nature of their relationship was like before the bomb incident.

we also know that evil morty has this weapon that could destroy all ricks. so that is just a ticking bomb.

anyway i can't wait for angsty rick.

i actually watched unforgiven for this episode bc i'm a big fan of westerns anyway. the only real parallels i can see is they both have a group of three (two are already partners and the other one is the call to adventure) and an unsatisfying ending. bc that's the nature of westerns. they should NEVER end happily, and if u think so then ur wrong (/nsrs enjoy media how u want).

some things i haven't mentioned but enjoyed nonetheless

the schematics for the omega device is titled <SCHEMATICS BOOGER-AIDS-V2>

the arm/leg swap best in the fight

the comparison between the song at the end playing here and in season one shows with just visuals how the dynamic of beth and jerry's (and beth's) marriage has evolved since then.

everyone freaking out when indiana jones rick shoots and it ricochets off the wall and evil morty just stands expressionless until it hits his forcefield.

morty going to hug rick covered in blood, realising, hesitating, and then doing it later anyway to try and make rick feel better.

evil morty making a point to say that he doesn't want vengeful summers coming after him for omega devicing rick. not vengeful mortys, vengeful SUMMERS.

just evil morty in this whole episode was an absolute delight i need to see him more.

THE TEAR MARKS AFTER RICK EMERGES FROM BEATING PRIME TO DEATH

slo mobius' wife almost going down the same path our rick did only to find someone she loves and focus on that, saving her. makes me wonder if they're gonna try putting rick in a relationship.

this ended up being way longer than it should have. anyway. very pleased. this season is hitting all the marks for me overall.

also don't be too hard on me i didnt edit this 😭

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick n morty #r&m #rnm #rick c 137 #rick c137 #rick #rick and morty spoilers #unmortricken #rick and morty season 7 #rick and morty season 7 spoilers #rick prime #evil morty #prickcest #rick and morty meta

[somber-sapphic]

Dish Water

〘Prompt 18- "Wear Your Coat, You'll Catch a Cold."〙

〘Notes- Here we are, prompt 18! Don't ask about the title. We all know its bad.〙

〘Summary- Natasha gets caught in the rain while picking up takeout.〙

〘Word Count- 850〙

〘Pairing- Sick Natasha x Reader〙

〚Main Masterlist〛⌶〚Sicktember Masterlist〛

“Wear your coat, you’ll catch a cold.” You called after Natasha, flashing the redhead a happy grin. She laughed and rolled her eyes, turning back to smile at you.

“It’s 60 degrees out, I think I’ll live.” She teased in return, shutting the door behind her in a twirl. You chuckled quietly to yourself as you turned back to the soapy dishwater in the sink, amused with your dumb joke.

Science had clearly proven no correlation between not wearing a coat and getting sick. If it had been colder hypothermia was certainly on the table, but not a cold or the flu. Depending on who you ask hypothermia could be worse, but Nat would simply glare at any illness until it went away. She was cool like that.

You began to hum as you cleaned the dishes, wrinkling your nose as you rinsed out a water bottle which had held what smelled like a very old smoothie. It was your turn to clean the dishes accumulated by the Avengers over the week and you were unfortunate enough to have the grossest set since the chore was put in place.

That didn’t matter though, because Natasha was picking up pizza and soon enough the two of you would be cuddled up on the couch with hot, greasy food and a scary movie.

You wanted to watch a wholesome Halloween movie (The Corpse Bride specifically), but your girlfriend had insisted on a Scream marathon. You didn’t care though, all that mattered was spending time with her.

These last few months had been so incredibly stressful. The moment that she had gotten back from a three-week mission, you had been sent out for surveillance that required you to live in what was practically a shack in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. You spend two months there, seeing no action and hearing nothing of the woman you loved. It had been lonely, very lonely.

But now, it was okay. Given that you were the two sent on the longest missions Steve and Fury had agreed that you would each get at least a month home together, barring any emergencies that came up. Figuring that there would be at least one said emergency, Natasha and you were determined to take up this time doing couple-y things. Tomorrow it would be a movie, the day after a pottery class. Domestic stuff.

You finished with the dishes and dried your hands on the cloth, mildly alarmed by the amount of water covering your shirt. You always flung water around while completing that particular chore, but you thought you’d been careful enough this time. The soaking hem of your shirt told a different story.

With a sigh, you pulled it off and headed for the laundry room, certain that you had at least one left over from the load you’d forgotten to fold earlier.  

No sooner than you donned a fresh shirt, one smelling of lavender and Nastasha, did you hear a door close and a loud sneeze. You hurriedly tugged the shirt the rest of the way on and checked your watch as you padded out to the kitchen to investigate.

Standing in the doorway was Natasha, dripping wet and shaking like a leaf. The raincoat that she’d apparently grabbed was draped over the pizza box carried in one hand, her face buried in the crook of her other elbow. When she looked up at you, you could see the guilt in her eyes.

When she pulled her head away you could see the redness of her nose and the pout set on her plump red lips.

“Natty! Babe, I told you to wear it!” You said in a rush, sliding across the tile in your sock clad feet. Unfortunately, you had misjudged your speed and collided with her. It was only her quick reflexes that allowed you, the pizza and herself to all remain standing.

“It j-just started p-pouring, I didn’t want the-the food to get r-r-ruined.” Natasha spat out, her teeth chattering so hard that you could barely make out what she was saying. You huffed and took the box from her, setting it on the counter with the raincoat falling to the side.

The box was safe, of course it was. There was not a single dark spot on the cardboard concealing your dinner, but the woman you planned to share it with had been reduced to a sniveling mess in front of you.

“Okay love, forget the pizza. You need a warm shower and some chicken soup.” You said gently, wrapping an arm around your waist. Natasha tried to pull away, protesting about how she was getting you wet. It was true, but you didn’t care. One more change of shirt wouldn’t kill you.

“Come on Tasha, lets get you warmed up.” You kissed the side of her head, allowing yourself a smile when she laid her head against you. You may have been standing, but she had melted against you, half convincing you that if you let go, she would collapse.

In that moment, you decided that next time you would not be joking when you told her to wear a coat.

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[mybookstorecarlovinghusbands]

Forever Starts Tonight

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley take on a whole new adventure!

Pairing: Aziraphale x Crowley, Nephilim!Daughter!Reader

Warning: Angst, fluff, the whole shebang. The use of Y/n. Mentions of torture and injuries. ALSO was written based on what information we had back when S1 came out, so this doesn't correlate with what happened in S2.

Notes: THIS WAS WRITTEN BACK IN 2019 and I just logged back into this account after Season 2 so I didn't even realize this was in my draft until now 🙃

It’s kind of a Supernatural!AU, given that their lore is different from Good Omens’ lore so I mixed it up a little. Read the narrative in our Frances McDormand's God voice. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

This story all starts when the demon Crowley is waiting for his angel, Aziraphale, to return to his -now their- flat from ‘an expedition of finding the Holy Grail of exquisite books’... the angel’s words, not Crowley’s. The demon himself was bored while waiting up for Aziraphale, so he ordered Chinese and began to channel surf to see what was on television. It wasn’t long after that did he hear the door open and close within seconds of each other, causing Crowley to look up from the couch to see Aziraphale standing in the doorway with a bundle of pink blankets nestled in his arms.

“Oh, somebody's sake, no. Not again.” 

“I can explain!” The angel squeaked out right away, clearing his throat nervously as Crowley just leans further into the couch while eyeing him expectedly through his shades, eyebrows raised in question.

After several moments of utter silence, Crowley’s lips caved into an amused smirk, “I’m waiting.”

“Right! Yes, well, um,” Aziraphale cleared his throat again, “I heard rumors. Rumors around Heaven and I was curious, I couldn’t help it. What I’m saying is that it’s not my fault and I couldn’t just leave her there and-!”

“Alright alright, slow down, Angel. No need to accidentally combust and set the child aflame,” Crowley waved off while pushing himself to stand up, leaning on one hip lazily while eyeing the pink blankets, his hands digging into his pockets, “Now what rumor exactly are those panty-twisting winged bastards spreading up there?”

“Oh! Uh... well,” Aziraphale tries to smile, his free hand reaching up and unwrapping the blankets to reveal the tiny pink face that Crowley was expecting to be under the bundles but in all honesty, even he admits that he wasn’t prepared for how disgustingly cute she was. She was definitely cuter than Adam when he was a baby, and he could confirm that as Aziraphale continued, “What I heard was that Gabriel had been with a human.”

“He, what?” Crowley sputtered, utterly shocked, “Are you telling me that that’s a Nephilim? A child of a human and a bloody angel?”

“Technically, an archangel, but yes,” Aziraphale hummed, unknowingly swaying his own body to gently rock the baby in his arms, “I didn’t believe it at first. Gabriel is always against such things, but, now that I think about it, she was conceived around the time Armaggedon was supposed to happen and Gabriel was pretty furious at the time.”

“So he took his frustration out on some poor woman?” Crowley answered his own question with a deep whistle, “That’s low, even for me.”

“I know,” Aziraphale smiled softly, and Crowley wished he could take it back just to spite him, but quickly swallowed down that idea as he watches the angel practically beam down at the baby while whispering sweet nothings to the sleeping infant.

The fact that Crowley thought it was such a beautiful scene horrified him as he quickly clears his own throat to grab Aziraphale’s attention again, “So what exactly are you doing with the Nephilim?”

The angel sighs in defeat, “Well, unfortunately, Y/n’s mother... passed away after giving birth to her and, well, you know Gabriel, so I just thought--”

“Did you seriously name the poor thing Y/n?” Crowley smirked ever so slightly, walking around the couch to meet the angel in the doorway.

“N-No!” Aziraphale stammered, “Her mother did right before she died. I wouldn’t dare change it if that’s what her mother wanted.”

“And so you just decided that we would take her in, a Nephilim, and raise on our own like some normal human family?”

Aziraphale swallowed something sharp in his throat as he looked down at the baby instead of Crowley, absolutely terrified at what expression he might see. Although he will admit, he was curious about the wording of ‘we’ since he said no such thing of the two of them raising this child together. He knows that Crowley has always been about ‘us’ and ‘our side’ but Aziraphale wasn’t sure just how far Crowley was willing to go in doing things together. He would understand if Crowley was against this, given that if she wanted to, one day, Y/n could just burn a demon such as himself alive just by looking at him. Nephilim were extraordinarily powerful beings, and that is why it’s illegal for angels to procreate with humans. They’re extremely dangerous when provoked. Granted, not as powerful as the Antichrist but still, terrifying. 

“I- I- I mean,” Aziraphale flushed, “My thoughts were that if she was left to be adopted by a normal human family, further down the road they would realize that she’s not normal and then we would have a lot of trouble on our hands from both of our sides.”

“Again, we’re on our side now,” Crowley stared down the bridge of his nose at the angel, “And do you remember the last time we tried helping a child?”

“Warlock was different. We thought he was a ticking time bomb.”

“This is a Nephilim. It’s not that much different.”

“But with Warlock, we were trying to force life lessons on him while trying to cancel each other out. We practically broke the poor boy in the process.”

“If you can even call that boy 'poor,'” the demon muttered, “So you’re saying that when a demon and an angel work together to raise a child it would have a much better outcome?” The grin on Crowley’s face was smug, Aziraphale knew it was, given that to counter his question, the angel would have to admit that they do, in fact, make a great team as Crowley’s been saying for 6,000 years.

“Yes,” Aziraphale blurts out sternly, lips frowning in defeat as he pouts, “Go ahead. Gloat. Say ‘I told you so’.”

“I could, but then it wouldn’t be as fun now would it?” Crowley beamed, “What sounds even more fun is pinning it against you for the next eighteen years of this little squirt’s life.”

~~~~~~~~~

And so it was that an angel named Aziraphale and a demon named Crowley took Little Y/n in and raised her as their own. Of course, there were a few bumps in the road along the way, but nothing the three of them couldn’t fix together. Over the years, they live the best life that neither angel nor demon could possibly believe could happen to them.

Crowley ends up being the best father a girl could ask for. When baby Y/n was hungry at night, Crowley was already up and ready to feed her. When she asked for a tricycle, in an instant, it was there against Aziraphale’s wishes. Even when Y/n fell off that damn thing time and time again, Crowley either pretended to fall with her so she wouldn’t feel embarrassed or he would encourage the best way that he could... through temptation. So what Y/n had some trouble sleeping those first few nights after getting that tricycle because Crowley had given her candy every time she succeeded?

She first started calling Crowley 'Dad' and Aziraphale 'Papa' by the time she was five, and it was around that time when her angel father consulted with her demon father about her powers.

“Perhaps this is a good age to teach her how to control her gifts?”

“Absolutely not,” Crowley muttered, practically pouting while leaning against the wall and glaring into nothing. And before Aziraphale could blink, that discussion was over. 

When Y/n was old enough, borderline sixteen, she even dyes her hair to look more like Crowley than Gabriel, the girl only ever wanting to resemble the beings who raised her compared to the one who helped create her. When she went to her dads the next morning to show her work, Aziraphale was more fond than angry for dying her hair, commenting on how she looked so much like her father. Crowley, on the other hand, was falling off his chair while laughing, clutching his sides and yelling, “That’s my girl!” He always knew she was the rebellious sort. In secret, he was trying his best not to cry, touched by the influence he had on his child.

By the time Y/n was a teenager, Crowley still did not want to discuss the possibilities of teaching his daughter how to control her powers. And for the life of him, Aziraphale couldn’t understand why. Y/n knew of her abilities. Her dads didn’t hide her from any truths once she was old enough and understood what she was and what she was capable of doing by the time she was sixteen. By then, she had also wondered why Crowley did not want to teach her. After fruitless efforts into getting him to do so, Y/n had gotten angry because she believed that her father was wanting to hold her back from her true potential, or even worse, she believed that he thought she was a monster. And being that she was so close to her Dad, the thought of how he might fear her practically broke the teenager’s heart and she ran away, her special blood giving her the cloak she needed to hide from her otherwordly dads.

When they were unable to find her right away, Aziraphale and Crowley got into the biggest fight they have ever had in their shared existence, and it ended with the angel leaving in a huff to go and keep trying to find their daughter. In his rage, Crowley also left the house to try to blow off some steam and find Y/n. 

He was walking for a while, unable to drive since Aziraphale took the Bentley. It was a little petty, maybe, but Crowley begrudgingly admitted to himself that he was proud of the angel's pettiness. As he turns the corner and walks down an alley, he scrunches his eyebrows and hears movement behind him, causing Crowley to turn around just as two demons appear directly behind him. Before he could react, Crowley is tackled to his knees and restrained, and, to his hidden horror, was restrained with chains that had definitely been dipped in Holy Water, as the cold feel of metal begun to sting and seep into his skin. Looking up, the rogue demon noticed a third figure with his attackers, and his upper lip twitched at the sight of him.

Hastur’s lips curl into a smile while having the pleasure of watching Crowley’s confident demeanor give way when those snake-like eyes look over his shoulder. Knowing what Crowley was seeing behind him, Hastur happily watched the restrained demon's face fall at the sight of two more demons dragging his daughter down the alleyway by both of her arms as she cries out, “Dad?”

Hastur laughs as Crowley’s first reaction is to fiercely fight against his restraints, ignoring the pain of the Holy Water bathed chains as he growls and hisses at the Duke of Hell, snake eyes blazing with hellfire, “You tell them to get their filthy hands off of her RIGHT. NOW! Or I’ll--”

“Do what, exactly? Die trying to get out of chains meant to burn through your fleshy form?" The demons all laughed at Hastur's joke and he just beams proudly, "It's nice to see you're not as immune to Holy Water as you claimed to be. I don't know how you managed to survive that bathtub, but I can assure you that we'll never make the mistake of that again."

Crowley ignores the fact that he's been exposed and tries focusing on his child, “Darling, where’s your father?”

"I don't know!" She cried helplessly, the grip the demons had on her arms slowly starting to cut off circulation, her fingertips growing numb. Her demon father wanted nothing more than to return the favor and cut off their own arms to see how they'd feel. Instead, he tried not to get violent and focus more on her little, sweet, snot-and tear-ridden face while she sobs, "I'm sorry--"

"Don't be, love," Crowley tried to speak as gently as possible, despite the fact he could smell his skin beginning to burn and give way to the chains, "It's not your fault."

"You've been keeping low under the radar for a while, Crowley," Hastur interrupted, "How long has it been? Sixteen years? Now that I look at her," he makes a point to stare at Y/n, causing Crowley's skin to crawl with the expression on Hastur's face, full of ill-intent and evil ideas, "I can see why we haven't heard from you. It’s remarkable, actually. You took in a disgraced offspring of some human and an archangel just shortly after betraying your own kind?"

"Don't listen to him," Crowley didn't mean to snap, immediately regretting it when Y/n flinched. He wasn't sure if it was from his hiss or Hastur's words, either way he wanted nothing more to hold and comfort his child.

Hastur and the other demons continue to laugh, "You have two options. You can try fighting your way through your torturous bonds and allow your daughter to watch you slowly die in front of her. Or... you can tell us what we need to know.”

"Such as?" Crowley growled like a hellhound, pulling against its chains and ready to be released on its target.

"Where is the angel Aziraphale? Heaven has also reported his absence for sixteen years. One could wonder..." Hastur's eyes flick back to Y/n, "That isn't a coincidence. Did you finally move in with the boyfriend, dear Crowley?"

Crowley decided he didn't want to entertain this group of clowns any further, trying to conjure all his willpower and miracle a small, barely conceivable time stop, like the one he made to speak to Adam before Satan's arrival. It wasn't as strong due to his pain, but he immediately spoke directly to his daughter once he noticed Hastur's mouth stopped moving, and the other demons stopped laughing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Y/n's eyes briefly widen. She wasn't sure she could remember the last time Crowley apologized for anything. He sometimes did that little apology dance both he and Aziraphale created whenever they were wrong about something, but those were miniscule apologies compared to this.

Crowley's words were desperate and bled just as deep as the chains currently burning their way through his flesh, "I told Aziraphale that I never wanted you to learn how to use and control your powers because I didn’t want you to be anything like me, like him, or any angel or demon in this universe. I just wanted you to be... to be, like... like YOU."

Both father and daughter had matching tears falling down their cheeks, and through his desperation, Crowley found determination as well. Determined to get Y/n to see herself as he saw her. Strong and sure of herself, as confident as her papa, the very angel he loved dearly and hoped he would get to see again before the Holy Water reached his heart, "But I realize now that I was only holding you back in becoming you because those powers are what make you who you are. And right now, I need you to do that. I need you to focus. Burn away these bonds, and we can get out of here and find your father.”

"I-- I can't do that!" She exclaimed, her words shaking as she noticed the demons around them slowly beginning to move again, her father's intervention starting to fail due to his dying strength. "I don't know how!"

"You can!" Crowley had noticed, too, and the pain was becoming unbearable. He desperately wanted to be free of these chains, but more importantly, he desperately wanted his daughter free and running away, far from here and hopefully to Aziraphale, "You can and you will! Or else they'll take you somewhere your father can't follow. Aziraphale won't know where to look, and without me, he won't ever be able to get into Hell to save you! You have to try, Y/n!"

She was crying again, unable to breathe as the time was slowly beginning to restart. Hastur's movements were almost comically slow, snail-like as he full-bodied, turned to directly face Crowley. By the time Hastur was staring directly down at the rogue demon, time had fully restarted again, and the demons who ambushed Crowley were none the wiser.

Hastur grinned, "So what'll it be, old friend?"

"Even if I knew where the angel was, I wouldn't tell you," Crowley snarled, "I haven't spoken to Aziraphale in years."

"6,000 years on this planet, and you don't seem to know how to lie any better," Hastur snarled, turning back to stare at Y/n, "Very well. You're never too young to watch your dear old daddy turn into a puddle of goo."

"NO!"

A blast of light, blinding as the sun, bursts through the alleyway. Even with his shades, Crowley still had to close his eyes, his ears bombarded with a chalkboard-scrapping screech followed by men screaming in anguish. Even when the noises stopped and the light subsided back into a night sky, Crowley's ears still rang, and his vision was spotted. He blinked rapidly, faintly noticing that his shades were cracked and lopsided on his face. When he was finally able to look around, he couldn't find Hastur or the other demons. Instead, small piles of ash replace where they all once stood. The rogue demon's senses fully return, and he groans when hot, searing pain begins to make itself known. Looking down, he noticed the chains were now beating red and hot to the touch, sparking when the links rubbed together.

"Dad!" Y/n shouts, rubbing her sore arms as she runs to Crowley, who still knelt on the ground in shock.

Her voice snaps him out of it, and he raises his voice in warning, "Y/n, wait, you'll burn-!"

But, when Y/n touched the chains, nothing happened. She didn't pull away in pain, and he couldn't see any burn marks on her hand as she helped him shrug away the restraints. She's careful not to let the chains touch his skin anymore than they already were, and once the chains were removed, she immediately reverts back to crying as she sunk into her demon father's arms.

"Alright. Alright..." Crowley grunts, still in pain but holding his girl in his embrace regardless, taking deep breaths as he tried to relax, "It's alright now, love. You did it."

They stayed there, knelt on the ground of the alleyway for who knows how long, the only sound being a dog barking and car alarm going off in the distance, likely startled by Y/n's outburst.

The car and dog weren't the only ones her burst of energy signaled. Crowley picked up a different car sound, the rumbling of a familiar engine in the distance, quickly drawing closer. A smile finally emerges on his face, squeezing Y/n tighter and releasing her when he hears the sound of a car door slamming shut just down the alley.

"Y/n?!" Aziraphale appeared, eyes widening when he not only found his daughter, but his dearest as well, both collapsed on the ground and surrounded by ash and scorched earth. Immediately, the angel's footsteps pick up, "Y/n! Crowley!"

"Papa!" Y/n cried, sinking into Aziraphale's embrace when the angel sunk to his knees to join them on the ground. The teenager sobs into the angel's lapels, gasping between cries, "Dad... Dad's hurt."

Aziraphale's eyes immediately flick up to Crowley's, although it was proven difficult when the demon's cracked sunglasses got in the way. Keeping one arm around his daughter, Aziraphale leans into Crowley's space, taking the dark shades off to get a good look at those beautiful, snake-like yellow eyes, "My dear... are you alright?"

"Hm," Crowley's grin was lopsided, loopy like a lovesick loon, "Better now that you're here, Angel."

Y/n hiccups out a small laugh, and Aziraphale scowls while rolling his eyes. The sight of their reactions could fuel Crowley another 6,000 years if needed. Recognizing the burn marks of Holy Water, Aziraphale performs a quick miracle with the flick of his wrist, and before Crowley could blink, he's back to normal, tired but otherwise unharmed. He sinks into Aziraphale without a second thought, joining Y/n in tucking their faces into either sides of the angel's neck and staying there with no intent of leaving.

Aziraphale doesn't complain, unaware of what happened, but allowing his two loves to stay where they are, safe under his arms and wings.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #crowley good omens #good omens crowley #aziracrow #good omens season 2 #good omens imagine #imagine #crowley imagine #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale imagine

[tears0fsatan]

                ♰          ・        𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐑 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... suggestive, under 16 do not interact, dead dove do not eat, m!reader, kinda yandere ghostface!lucifer, stalking, gore fantasies, mild body horror lol, mindbreak, kidnapping at the end

 :¨·.·¨ ♥︎  a.n... fun fact i only watched scream for this ^w^ ever since that one halloween event i haven't been able to get masked lucifer out ofmy mind and its been driving me nuts actually (just came back from one of the best nights of my life i am writing this on a high) if u saw this before no u didn't (i don't even know why it posted in the first place)

 #﹏𖣠ㅤHEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLISTㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

news of a killer targeting unsuspecting men in the dead of night broke out and shook the community of your quaint little town. all the victims had been taken late at night and had no correlation with each other, only to be found the next morning disemboweled and slaughtered like farm animals in what was supposed to be the safety of their own homes.

while many chose to set a curfew and return early in hopes of staying alive, you knew you weren't interesting enough for a serial killer to take, so you took the curfew with a grain of salt. you continued to do your regular routine with the new community rules in the back of your mind, enjoying the peacefulness of the unusually quiet town.

unbeknownst to you, hidden in the shadows lurked a masked man, watching your every move with practiced patience and hungry eyes. lucifer couldn't help the ghost of a smile that toyed on his lips, excitement pumping through his veins at the thoughts of what he would do to you once he got his hands on you.

he thought of all the ways he would play around with you, how he would taunt you through the phone and watch as your face fell into fear and desperation. the killer enjoyed toying with his victim for as long as possible, or until he got bored, but all of it was meaningless amusement. from the very beginning, lucifer had his sights on you. you were his ultimate goal, the sole reason he started attacking random people in the first place was to capture your attention, to keep you thinking about him.

although you thought you hid yourself well in the crowd, it was that very reason that lucifer targeted you, oblivious and bland yet so mesmerisingly beautiful, he couldn't ignore such a cute boy walking alone at night. his eyes followed you as you weaved through crowds without attracting any attention, just a simple passerby to all those people who were unaware of just how captivating you were.

despite your normal outwardly appearance, he knew the skeletons in the closet you kept hidden to yourself and only let slip when you thought no one was watching. he knew all of the things you did when you thought you were alone, lingering silently in the dark corner of your room and plotting further.

his mind wandered to your delicate neck, wondering all the ways he could mark up your untouched skin. he pictured a beautiful blue and purple bruise the shape of his hand across the expanse of your neck, bite marks and small cuts littering the curve of your collarbone and shoulders. your legs and how good they would look wrapped around his waist pulling him impossibly closer took reign over his thoughts and his eyes trailed down to your legs, visualising all the marks he would leave behind to mark his territory.

he wanted nothing more than to rough you up, to rip you apart and sow you back together so you would be dependent on him for the rest of your life. he wanted to witness the moment your mind finally broke, succumbing to lucifer's every whim and request. he wanted to see you broken, beyond repair and moulded entirely for him.

there were moments he considered murdering you in the most brutal ways possible, especially when he would see you a little too close to your insignificant friends, or when he noticed you being a little too polite to strangers. those eyes you gave to your best friend belonged to him, you shouldn't be looking at anybody else like that beside from him. he couldn't make up his mind on whether he wanted to rip out your eyeballs out so you'd never be able to look at anyone like that ever again or if he wanted to bring you your best friends head on a platter and have that as your last memory of them.

the sound of his knuckles cracking shook him from his momentary reverie and lucifer decided then and there that he had to do something about his jealousy.

the next morning you woke up and found out that your best friend had gone missing in the middle of the night. to say you were distressed was an understatement, the situation was grim and everyone had sort of accepted that they wouldn't show up alive. the killer ate up your misery like a starved dog, clinging onto every emotion that flashed through your eyes that he caused.

lucifer teased the cops of your small community like a game of tag, leaving small trails of evidence and letting them believe that they were catching up to him when in reality he was always five steps ahead. when the killer finally killed them, he had made a show of it, stringing the body up like they were no more than halloween decoration, mangled and battered until they weren't recognisable. it was truly one of his most grisly murders yet.

he was there the moment you found out, blended into the crowd and without his usual get up so he could be near you. the moment the light left your eyes he knew he had made the right choice in prolonging your mental anguish.

that very night, he snatched you up. now he could have his way with you, he could toy with you as long as he wanted and no one could stop him.

© 2023 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t translate, modify, repost or plagiarise my works anywhere.

#READ TWS #៹ ࣪˖. 🎧 dark mode ﹒ᶻz #៹ ࣪˖. 🎧 special﹒🂾 #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me x male reader #obey me x gn reader #obey me x you #obey me x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x male reader #lucifer x gn reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x mc #dead dove do not eat #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[romanoffsdarling]

Didn’t I (Love You)?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader // Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Past)

Summary: You thought Wanda would be your forever, but everything has its ending. You just never realized that a certain Russian spy would become your new beginning.

Word Count: 5,968

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (at first), arguing/break up.

Author’s Note: A lot of my one-shots come from listening to various songs on repeat... This is yet another one with the song being Didn’t I by OneRepublic. I hope you all enjoy! (I also hope that the quote I added, for the anon that requested it, is what you had in mind while doing so.)

It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all...

Those words echo through your head on constant repeat as you lay within the dark confines of your room. Your eyes stare, with an unseeing gaze, at the ceiling as you rest on your back with your arm propped underneath your head. You don’t know how long it’s been since it had fallen asleep, but the faint prickles of pain were better than the hollow entity that was now your heart. 

At least it was a hollow entity that fit well within the silence of your room-- darkness forever looming within all the corners-- with only those words, that familiar quote that everyone said, keeping you company. Not that you wanted to have those words stuck within your mind-- you truly didn’t-- but it was the only sentence that was keeping you semi-sane as you tried to fight through the pain the last few days had inflicted upon you. 

Of course, you can’t help but think bitterly. The man who created the quote didn’t know anything. You’d do anything to not have this feeling, to not feel like your entire world was caving in around you. All of the happiness you had felt didn’t correlate to the pain you were now feeling. You just wanted it, and everything else, to be gone. To disappear just like the love apparently had.

With a long-suffering sigh, you finally relinquish your arm from its imprisonment as you flop you head onto the mattress. Your eyes screw shut as the memories continue to plague you; taunting you with the happier moments as your heart relayed the horrible ones. No matter what you did, you couldn’t forget sparkling green eyes, a heart-stopping smile, or waves of auburn hair. 

You couldn’t forget about the love you had felt within her arms. Nor could you forget about the heartbreak that it had caused. 

Maybe you should have realized the impending doom that was about to befall you when you first met her. 

When you had first been introduced to Wanda Maximoff. 

[Past]

“I still don’t understand what use I’m going to be in this meeting, Nat.” It was a complaint that fell on deaf ears-- after all you had repeatedly mentioned that very statement multiple times in the last hour-- but your companion offers you a barely-there smile, amusement dancing through bright green eyes, as she bumps into you. 

“You’re an Avenger, Y/N/N,” Natasha teases gently, her voice soft as you travel through another corridor of SHIELD. How many did there have to be? “It’s imperative that you meet the newest member of our little family.”

Your mouth twists wryly at that. “Family? Really, Nat?” You side eye your best friend, but you were only met with an open earnestness that caused the sardonic retort to wither away on your tongue. Family meant everything to the formidable Black Widow-- contrary to popular belief-- and you knew how much the team was beginning to become to her. So, with a soft sigh, your shoulders hunch. “Fine, I guess I can be a team player for you.”

Her answering grin is all that you could have hoped for as a response. It wasn’t something you saw often-- even being as close as you were with her-- which means that you cherished the moments that you were able to witness it. Especially when you were the direct cause of the expression. 

“Although.” You can’t keep the mirth from your tone at Natasha’s answering sigh. “I would much rather be in the Tower reading a book instead of being surrounded by SHIELD Agents.”

Natasha arches an incredulous brow at that. “I’m a SHIELD Agent, Y/N.” It’s said slowly, as if she was afraid, you’d misunderstand her if she spoke any quicker, but the sparkle in her eyes belies the attempt at being serious. “You’re also a SHIELD Agent.”

Shaking your head, you bump shoulders with her before quickening your step-- knowing full well she’d punch you in the arm for your next words-- as you call over your shoulder. 

“I thought we were Avengers, Tasha. One happy little family, right?”

The answering response in Russian-- that you were fairly certain was a curse-- causes you to break out into a sprint as you truly didn’t wish to be caught within Natasha’s web at the current moment. Feeling, the entire way, your best friend following close behind.

You just hope that you actually remembered where the meeting room was. 

Turns out you didn’t-- as Natasha so kindly pointed out when she easily caught up with you; directing you towards the right path that would lead you both to your destination-- but that also didn’t mean you weren’t still feeling the lightness within your chest. Your best friend had been teasing you the whole way to the room, something she usually refrained from because she wished to keep a certain image within SHIELD, but your mistake had amused her too much to hold back. 

��--How long have you been working here again?” 

At the amused question you tune back into her teasing rant, your eyes meeting glowing green-- a knowing spark causes them to glint even more-- and you try your best to come up with an answer on the spot. 

“I don’t really remember.” You wrack your brain for the right answer. “About five years, I think.”

Natasha arches a brow. “And you still can’t remember how to get to the conference room?”

“Hey,” you defended, feeling the need to not look like a complete idiot. “It’s not my fault that SHIELD renovates so much that everything shifts around without me noticing.”

She makes a faint noise of commitment as you both round yet another corner, but with the way Natasha was beginning to slow down you could tell that your destination was fast approaching. 

As you reach the door, Natasha gently pats you on the arm in a reassuring manner. “You’d be lost without me.”

“Yes,” you agree, knowing that would be the case immediately. “I definitely would be.”

You don’t have the chance to ponder the light expression that etched across Natasha’s face at your easy acceptance-- a certain happiness that few were ever privy to on full display-- as the door opens and you enter the conference room. Only to be met by the fierce gaze of the woman seated opposite Fury, Clint and Steve standing a little bit behind her, as she crossed her arms defensively over her chest at the newest arrivals. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Fury says, without needing to even look behind him. “I’d like you to meet the newest addition to the Avengers, Wanda Maximoff.”

Wanda, your mind whispers the name as your gaze locks with the electric green of the newest recruit. 

You didn’t know why the simple sound of her name caused your heart to race, but you were excited to find out. 

[Present]

You scoff as the memory comes to an end. God, how pathetic you had been. Foregoing your usual timidness-- usually combined with Natasha scoping the other person out-- you had initiated contact with a fervor that surprised you even to this day. 

And where did that leave you? Your mind snarls, the question tinged with barely concealed rage at yourself. You, all by yourself. Just like you have always been. When will you learn? No one wants to be yours even if you’d do anything to be theirs. 

“That’s not true,” you groan, flipping onto your side to finally stare at something new, even if it was just the closed closet door in your room. “That’s hasn’t been true for a long time.”

Your eyes screw shut at the revelation, not wanting to open that can of worms at the current moment, but the action causes even more memories to surface. Tearing through your mind like rabid animals as they try to infect you completely. 

Maybe if you had been stronger, allowed yourself to see what had been before you all along, then you wouldn’t be feeling this way right now. However, even the thought of not having been with Wanda leaves your heart howling a mournful sonnet. 

Loving Wanda hadn’t been a mistake but trusting her had been. 

You just wish the simpler times would have lasted for just a bit longer; like when you had your first date. The warmth, the affection, and everything in between had surrounded you both. Leaving you with the belief that everything else would be okay. 

How foolish you had been. 

[Past]

“So?” You hedge, internally wincing at your own awkwardness, as Wanda shifts her gaze from her book to peer up at you. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner tonight?”

There’s a beat of silence, Wanda’s expression almost unreadable before a soft smile quirks her lips. A bell-like laugh escaping them a moment later while she places her book in her lap-- giving you her full attention-- and a weight is seemingly lifted from her shoulders. 

“I’d love to, Y/N.” She tilts her head. “Where would we be going?” 

You rub the back of your neck-- still somewhat surprised that she had agreed so easily-- but answer in what you hope is a confident voice. “There’s a new restaurant that’s opened up not too far from here. It’s not a big shop, but I thought it would be nice.” God, was this a horrible idea? “Plus, I thought a closer place would be better to go to. You know--” You shrug with a small smile on your lips. “If you want to escape quickly at least you won’t have to walk that far.”

Another beat of silence passes-- wherein you’re concerned that your brand of humor didn’t hit correctly-- but then Wanda gifts you with the warmest smile you had ever received from the Sokovian. Amusement dancing across her beautiful face as she shakes her head with a certain fondness only Natasha had shown you until now.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wanda teases. “But I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you laugh, subtly rubbing your clammy palms on the fabric of your jeans. “I’ll let you get back to reading, but I’ll meet you in the lobby at around seven?” 

Wanda nods in agreement, her attention shifting back to her book but the soft smile on her lips never wavered. Nor did the feeling of her burning gaze on your back as you exited the room.

“None of them look right.” You flop down onto your bed-- littered with various articles of clothing-- with an almighty groan. Your gaze honed into a little fleck on your ceiling that you’ve never noticed before as you try to abate the incoming storm of nerves. 

The gentle chuckle from your right only heightened them as you hadn’t even noticed her enter your room. You didn’t turn your gaze to meet hers, but you know you didn’t have to, not when you felt the bed dip beside you, and familiar green eyes peer down at you with open curiosity. 

“Everything okay, Y/N/N?” Natasha asks in a gentle voice, nimble fingers running through the tresses of your hair as she knew it was a way to calm you down. “I haven’t seen you this worked up since Thor broke the coffee machine.”

“How am I supposed to function without my daily dose of caffeine?” You grumble but lean into Natasha’s touch all the same. If you could purr you definitely would be as she was quite talented with her fingers. “I’m just stressed because I need to pick out an outfit.”

Natasha hums thoughtfully at that, her brow scrunched ever-so-slightly as she formulated her next words. “Where are you going? Is it somewhere fancy or casual?” 

Leaning more into her touch, you let loose a soft sigh. “We’re going to Tequila Mockingbird.”

You almost whine at the sudden loss of Natasha’s fingers kneading your scalp in a more than welcomed massage, but the sound dies in your throat at the sudden sharpness within your best friend’s green gaze. 

“Tequila Mockingbird? The bar that was recently renovated into a restaurant?”

Not being able to decipher the tone of Natasha’s voice-- something that would always put you a little on edge-- you decide to be as truthful as you can be. It wouldn’t do to have the Black Widow angry at you. “Yes, Nat.”

It was clearly the wrong thing to say as she quickly stands from your bed-- jostling you as you try to follow her-- but her heated glare stops you in your tracks and leaves you awkwardly seated on the very edge of your bed. 

“The same one that I mentioned to you?” She runs a hand through her dark auburn locks. “The same one that I wanted--” Natasha stops herself, a deep exhale escapes sharply through her nose, as her entire body seems to grow even more tense. “Where a cross between the two. It’s not a super fancy place but it’s still new enough that you should wear something nice.”

Still not understanding why Natasha’s mood had soured so suddenly, you nod. “I’ll make sure to tell Wanda that.” You almost flinch at the enraged look that briefly flits across her face before her mask of perfect stoicism returns. “Tasha are you okay?” 

She nods jerkily. “I’ve never been better but, I just realized, that I’m late for a training session with Steve.” Natasha doesn’t even turn to look at you again until she’s right outside your room, and you still can’t decipher the look within her eyes, but you do know that you didn’t like seeing it. “I hope you have fun on your date.”

You couldn’t even respond before Natasha vanishes. Leaving you only with the faint scent of her perfume, her words echoing in your head, and the question of what the hell you had just done wrong.

“I had a nice time tonight,” Wanda admits, an almost timid smile on her lips. The soft green of her gaze shimmers in the moonlight as she peers up at your through her long lashes. “I had no idea that the food would be so good at a recently renovated bar.”

“Benji is great,” you easily agree, basking in the companionable warmth that was being shared between you both. “He made one hell of a bartender whenever it was just a bar, but we all knew his true calling was to be a chef. I’m glad that he was able to achieve his dream.”

Wanda looks at you with open curiosity. “You used to go there when it was still a bar? What was it like?”

You can’t help the smile that curls your lips as all the fond memories flit through your mind; shared laughter over filled cups, horribly mismatched dart competitions, and Benji’s horrible puns as you helped him close up for the night. 

“It was a place that made you feel like you were always invited,” you finally say, trying to articulate the right things to say. The place was much too special for you to get this wrong. “There was an absolutely horrible picture above the bar that Nat--” 

The words die in your throat as realization comes crashing through you like a freight train, leaving you breathless. This couldn’t be happening... How the hell could you have forgotten? 

“Y/N/N.” Wanda’s soft hand on your exposed arm-- you had opted to go with a simple dress that wasn’t too fancy or casual-- as more memories come flooding back. Forcing yourself from your self-induced panic, you meet Wanda’s concerned gaze. “Is everything all right?”

Your head is shaking well before the words escape your suddenly parched mouth. “No.” Clearing your throat, you run a hand through your hair. “No, everything is not all right at all.”

The touch on your arm tightens-- forcing you to stop a few feet from the entrance of the Tower. Wanda’s gaze was imploring you to tell you what was wrong, what was clearly bothering you after a seemingly magical night, but you couldn’t put to words how royally you had just fucked up. However, you know that Wanda deserved to have you see this night through, at least until you got her home, and after?

After you can panic and figure out how to make it right with your best friend.

“I’ll be fine, Wanda,” you murmur, hoping your smile looked more natural than you believed it to be. “I just realized I did something stupid earlier, and I know I’ll have to make up for it.”

The Sokovian seemed unsure by your words, but she seemed to understand that it was an issue that was better left within your own mind. Her grip on your arm loosens considerably as she realizes you’re not in any danger, and her hand easily slides down to entangle with your own. Your breath stutters in your throat at the simple action, which Wanda seems to notice as an innocent smile plays at the corner of her lips. 

“How about we continue our walk for a little bit longer?” She tilts her head as she grins at you, her nose crinkling with the force of it. “I’d love to get to know you more and New York is so beautiful at sunset.”

You smile-- putting your plans for Nat on the backburner for now-- as you begin to walk once more. “I’d like that, Wands, I’d like that a lot.”

It was around midnight when you finally worked up the nerve to stand in front of Natasha’s bedroom door. After your walk with Wanda, which was nothing short of enlightening as you somehow fell deeper for the gorgeous Sokovian, you had “dropped” Wanda off at her bedroom door with a gentle kiss being placed on your cheek as a thank you. Ever since, you had been a nervous wreck, pacing the entire length of your room as you tried to figure out how to make it right with Nat. 

Hurting Natasha was the last thing you ever wished to do. You hated the thought of being one of the many people that have done so to the beautiful spy, and you still can’t believe that you had let something so crucial slip your mind. How the hell could you have forgotten that Tequila Mockingbird was your special place with Natasha, and that she’d probably want to dine there with you first? 

Your own idiocy boggles your mind at times, but you wouldn’t rest until you made it right with your best friend. 

So, with the smallest moment of hesitation, you rap your knuckles against her door. The brief moment of silence that follows was almost suffocating in its intensity-- doubly because you’re well aware that Natasha was still awake. That she was within the confines of her room currently deliberating whether to let you in or not. 

What if she doesn’t let you in? Your mind frets, already jumping to the worst conclusion possible. What if this is one of those things that she can’t forgive you for? Would you be able to live without Natasha’s companionship? Did you just lose one of the most important relationships in your life?

You were so lost in your worsening thoughts that you didn’t notice a concerned green gaze observing you. It was only when a gentle, yet firm, hand grasped your shoulder that you were pulled out of your reverie. An almost panicked look etched across your face as you quickly clasp Natasha’s retreating appendage. The fact that she hadn’t immediately pulled away, when you’re well aware she could do so easily, was a good sign. You hope. 

“I’m so sorry, Tasha,” you begin, trying to make out any slight change within her mask. “I’m so sorry that I forgot. That I didn’t remember something so important to us.”

Natasha’s full lips downturn into a frown. “How could you forget? It’s the place we became best friends in. How could you forget something so special?” She pauses to take a deep breath, clearly not wanting to get loud in case someone heard. “I get that you were excited about your first date with Wanda, but did it have to be to our spot?” 

The barely concealed pain laced within her words makes you feel that much worse. How shitty of a friend were you? “I know, Tasha.” You bring your still clasped hands to your chest as you try to make her understand that your intention was never to hurt her. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I swear our spot is still our spot and that will never change.”

“You don’t know why I’m so upset, do you?” It was a question you weren’t expecting-- getting scolded, whacked upside the head, or even flipped seemed more logical-- and that seemed to correlate within the confused expression on your face. Something that causes that same look from before within Natasha’s eyes; up close it almost looked like defeat before it was gone. “I forgive you, Y/N/N. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t forget things.”

You shake your head, not wanting to be let off this easily. “I shouldn’t have forgotten this and I’m going to make it up to you.” 

She arches her brow in response. “Yeah? What are you going to do?”

Your answering grin tells her all that she needed to know; it was an unspoken thing that whenever either of you messed up that the wounded party would be treated to brunch at your favorite diner-- The Breakfast Club. Followed by a best friend day that usually ended with a random movie being played as you tried to figure out how to beat Natasha at poker. You still didn’t know how, and you don’t think you were getting any closer. 

“I’d like that.” Natasha steps closer to wrap you in her arms, her comforting embrace soothing you after the hours spent in turmoil. Her breath ghosts across the skin of your neck as she rests her head contently on your shoulder. “I’d like that a lot, Y/N/N.”

You only tighten your arms around her waist as a response. Just happy that you had been able to make things right with your best friend. 

[Present]

Yet another time you were a complete imbecile and had almost lost someone you care for, your mind hisses like a venomous snake; poised to strike against your already battered soul. You almost lost Natasha because of that little stunt. She shouldn’t have forgiven you that easily, but you know why she did now, and you went and fucked it up again. 

“Shut up,” you hiss right back, throwing an arm over your face. You didn’t need to hear things you already know. Didn’t need the constant reminder of everything that you had messed up because you couldn’t get a good grasp of anything. 

Looking back on it now it was all so obvious, but you hadn’t wanted to see what was standing right in front of you. You didn’t wish to acknowledge anything that would become too real-- turning a blind eye-- and now you were paying the price. In more ways than one. 

All of it came to a breaking point, you couldn’t keep running forever on just blind hope alone. Couldn’t keep believing that everything would turn out all right just because you wanted it to do so. You just wished that it wouldn’t have happened the way that it had. 

Maybe if it had happened a different way your heart would have been salvaged. 

At least a little bit. 

[Past]

The argument had been going on for way longer than you had wanted it to. It was at the point that you didn’t even remember what had initially started it in the first place-- maybe the dishes not being done. All you did know was that you wanted it to stop. 

“I don’t see why you won’t apologize!” You scream back-- going against what your brain was ordering you to do-- as you fight back the impending tears; you weren’t about to break down in front of her. Again. “You could have texted me at any time that you weren’t able to make it, but you left me waiting in that restaurant for two fucking hours!” 

Green eyes narrow as they briefly flash red due to her heightened agitation. “I told you before we made those plans that I probably wouldn’t be able to make it. It’s not my fault that you insisted to keep them.”

You scoff. “Are you really fucking blaming me for the fact that you stood me up?” Disgust laces within your tone as you take a step back from your girlfriend. “I’m well aware that you told me you possibly couldn’t make it, but you could still have afforded me the luxury of getting a simple text telling me that.” 

“Vision needed me.” Wanda throws her hands up in clear exasperation with the conversation. “What the hell did you want me to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you hiss. “Maybe send me a quick text that you were caught up with the toaster oven. You know, so I didn’t have to sit alone in a candle-lit restaurant for hours!”

Pinching her nose, Wanda takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” She peers up at you with expressive green eyes. “I’m sorry that I got caught up with work and that I forgot to message you, I am. Can you forgive me, detka?”

At the use of the nickname a coil loosens within your gut, your body already shifting into a less defensive stance. After all you were a poster girl when it came to forgetting things. 

“Yeah.” You rub the back of your neck, offering Wanda a barely-there smile. “I forgive you, Wands. Just don’t let it happen again, okay?”

“I promise.”

[Present]

It hadn’t been the last time she would do something like that to you, but you had been too in love to realize that. Too blinded by the high that came with being in love with the gorgeous Sokovian that you didn’t notice how far you were beginning to fall; with no one at the bottom being there to catch you. 

The next few times after that argument, Wanda had only been late by small increments of time. Such an insignificant amount that you barely noticed, but they quickly became larger and larger as the weeks turned to months. A few minutes became ten that became thirty and then that evolved into hours. Her excuse being the same each time: “Someone needed me to help them, Y/N. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to make our date, but I’ll try to be there for the next one.”

You never asked who it was that had needed her so much, but you always knew within yourself. It had just been something you didn’t wish to put a voice to because that would cement the betrayal you didn’t know if you could forgive. It would make your reality all too real and you didn’t wish to live in a world where Wanda Maximoff didn’t love you. 

Everyone it seems has a breaking point, however. You just wish that it had been you that had finally had enough; that it had been you that finally talked sense into yourself. 

Maybe if you had done that sooner than Natasha wouldn’t have had to do it. 

[Past]

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N,” Natasha snarls as she stands across from you with her arms crossed. Anger etched across her face as she has clearly had it with you. “She isn’t treating you the way you’re supposed to be treated. Why don’t you see that?”

You know that Natasha was right-- deep within your bones you know that-- but that doesn’t stop your own anger from eating away at you. “It’s my relationship, Natasha. If I wanted your opinion about it, then I would ask.” You know that you were being a bitch, but you can’t help feeling defensive. “Wanda loves me, I know that.”

The red-head sighs softly, clearly trying to calm herself. “I know that she loves you, Y/N/N.” She takes a small step towards you-- not that you had anywhere to go as you were seated on the end of your bed-- while maintaining eye contact; her emerald eyes imploring you to listen to what she was saying. “I know that she does, but she’s not in love with you. She cares for you but you’re not her everything, and you deserve someone who treats you as such.”

She’s right, your mind whispers. You know that Natasha would never lie to you when it comes to something like this. Why are you so afraid to admit that? Is it because you’re afraid of what you’ll find out when you finally do?

“What do you want me to do, Tasha?” Your voice was pitiful, you know that, but there was no stopping it now. “There’s no one else that can understand our lifestyle, who can make me feel safe, and be attracted to me. What am I supposed to do when no one else wants me?” Has ever wanted me. 

Natasha shakes her head, her displeasure being shown in the furrowing of her brow. “That’s not true and you know it.” She offers you a barely there smile, sinking to her knees before you as she places her hands on your legs. “You know that there has always been someone that would give you anything you could ever desire. You just never looked far enough to see her.”

At the whispered confession, your entire being stiffens. It couldn’t be real; Natasha couldn’t be in love with you. Couldn’t care for you in that way, but the look in her eyes-- added to the memories of her holding you-- paints you a picture you had always misunderstood, and now you were given the key. 

You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing at all. Even as Natasha stared at you with an increasingly worried look. Even when Natasha slowly stood-- her expression one of controlled agony-- as she placed the lightest kiss to your forehead. Even when she gave you one last look before leaving your room completely. 

Even as you felt your heart be taken with her. 

[Present]

The end for you and Wanda came swiftly after that conversation. Natasha’s words constantly echoed within your mind whenever you were with the Sokovian. You knew that Wanda cared for you-- could see it in the way she looked at you, the way she smiled towards you when you entered a room, even the way she teased you-- but it was in the way that a friend cared for another friend. Of course, you hadn’t wanted to accept it at first-- after all you had been convinced that Wanda was the love of your life-- but observing her with Vision made everything fall into place. 

Her smiles were just brighter with him, her laughter much clearer, the sparkle in her eyes appearing that much more, and her attention never truly wavered. It was that realization that had truly crushed you. Everything you had fought so hard for to maintain slipped through your fingers without you even realizing, and it was too late to do anything at all. Though you don’t think there was anything to really do to begin with. 

The final nail in the proverbial coffin that was your relationship with Wanda was the simple fact that she didn’t truly notice you starting to pull away; less dates were planned, no more good morning kisses to her cheek, or little notes placed in various spots in the books she was reading. It was crushing to realize that you had already lost Wanda while you were still dating her, but you couldn’t continue to date the husk of the woman you had fallen in love with. Couldn’t continue to hold onto someone that would never love you the same way you had loved them. 

When you had sat down across from Wanda, taken her hand in yours, you could tell that she knew what was coming. Sensed that she wished to fight you on it but didn’t have anything to truly dispute your claims. You tried not to be angry, it would achieve nothing now, as you spoke; making sure that you had chosen each word carefully as you wanted to make yourself perfectly clear. 

“I was special until I wasn’t. You cared about me until you didn’t. I was what you wanted until you met him, and I gave you my heart until you gave it back.” You had paused at those words, trying to fight against the onslaught of agony threatening to drown you. “I love you, Wanda, but we’re not on the same path anymore. We haven’t been for a long time, and I think the best thing we can do for each other is to let the other go. So, we don’t have to look back in years to come and see all the paths we could have taken if it wasn’t for the other.”

Wanda had said nothing, but you still remember the pain that had been reflected perfectly within her eyes. It was the same pain that was causing your heart to cry out in agony. However, in the end, you had just done that; you let Wanda go. 

Even if your heart was aching without having her next to you, you know that it was for the best. Especially when you know that your heart would be able to heal in the hands of the only person you could ever see yourself entrusting with it. Hands that you know would protect it until the very end. 

Which brings you to where you are now-- after you had finally gotten up from your bed-- standing in front of your best friend’s bedroom. The distant memory of you doing this months before, with just as much nerves, filters through your mind but you shake it off. You know that it was very possible that Natasha was asleep, but you couldn’t wait to ask her this. 

So, here you stood, after knocking on her door, listening as her soft footsteps approach the door. Each step echoing within your mind and resounding across your heart. It was only when you met her familiar green gaze-- even if it was etched with confusion-- that you began to calm down. 

“Hi,” you murmur, well aware that this was more than a little strange. “I was just wondering if you’d like to go to The Breakfast Club with me tomorrow?”

Natasha’s eyes narrow at that, but a soft smile ghosts across her lips. “I think I can manage that.”

You shift on your feet. Now the difficult part. “Well--” You rub the back of your neck. “There’s one condition for it.”

At her head tilt, and the slight narrowing of her eyes, you know that you had her intrigued but only had a short amount of time to explain yourself. 

“And what is that condition?”

“That we make it a date.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence as Natasha processes your words-- her expression becoming one you couldn’t decipher-- and you feel yourself beginning to panic. Did you get things wrong again? Was Natasha still interested? Or did you blow your chance?

Forcing yourself not to panic, as you didn’t want to miss Natasha’s answer, you notice that she was now openly grinning at you; the happiness within her emerald eyes causing them to shimmer like precious gems. 

It was all the response you needed to feel your heart finally begin to put itself back together again. 

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #black widow x reader #black widow #mcu imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagines

[ananke-xiii]

My ranking of SPN seasons (based only on their PLOT) pt. 2

In my previous post I'v covered the following:

15: Season 14

14: Season 15

13: season 7

12: season 3

11: season 6

Let's continue!

10. Season 13: this season was a HUGE disappointment to me. The first 6 episodes are brilliant, the writing is excellent, the actors gave their best performances, the scenes were well thought out, the pacing is slow but keeps the audience interested. The plot is intriguing: the heroes are mouring the death of Castiel while trying to both find a way to find their mother and to take care of Jack. In the meantime, the audience comes to understand that there's a new player in town: The Empty. It's mysterious, it seems evil, it seems total. I'm hooked. However, after episode 6 the plot sort of changes, it's like the first 6 episodes were a completely different season. By the end of season 12 we were already introduced to the existence of a parallel world and after episode 6 of season 13 we kind of explore more of it. The plot goes in that direction: the heroes must go to the alternate universe to save their mother. However, frankly, it's all very messy and overly complicated. I'm usually super pro AU, different timelines, same characters but from parallel realities and the like, but this time I was not engaged. I felt quite let down by this season (which also ends in a ridiculous battle that, once again, undermines everything that was said&done in season 5 but OKAY!).

9. Season 12: this season is a bit of a mystery to me. The main plot is: find Lucifer, consequently find Kelly Kleine and ultimately find Lucifer's son. So far so good. I like it. Clear, linear yet stimulating. The subplot is Mary Winchester and the British Men of Letters. Now, while I enjoyed Mary's character I utterly hated the whole BML arc. Just hated it. That Ketch? I hate him. I have no rational reason to explain why but I really hoped he would be killed off by the end of the season but surprise! He'll stick with us until season 15. Not amused. To be fair, the BML is not really a subplot, more of a parallel plot in that it has no correlation whatsover to the main plot. Also, some crazy shit happens in this season like Dean and Sam get caught by a super special police force, are imprisoned for like 3 months or something? unalive themselves, come back to life by making a reckless deal with Billie the reaper, and then go back to normal and no mention of it all is ever made. Well, okay writers' room. All in all, I gotta say that I place this season here in my ranking because it has some amazing episodes and the ending is a bomb. So I gotta give credit where credit's due.

8. Season 1: hear me out, I know that for some this is an iconic season and, honestly, fair enough. But, as any other season 1 of the majority of TV shows, the plot is not exactly exciting? Sure, we get to know our heroes and their backstories, but there are no allies, no other interesting characters, the 2 heroes seem to be living in a vacuum. The plot is simple, clean and intriguing enough to keep you watching, but it doesn't exactly keep you on your toes.

7. Season 10: oh my, oh my. Season 10. WELL. I have to confess that I hated this season with a passion. This is where I was tempted to stop watching Supernatural. I'll tell you why but first, the plot: Sam and Cas try to save Dean from the Mark of Cain. The subplots? Cas trying to bring angels back to Heaven (?), then the whole Castiel/Claire arc, then again Castiel vs Metatron, the mini and insignificant arc centered on Cole... Many, too many for my taste. The effect is that all these subplots are smoke in the eyes to cover for the total absence of creativity to solve the Mark of Cain plot. HOWEVER, however. Since I hated it with a passion, I've decided to watch some episodes again and to read some meta about it. And I gotta say, I was not paying attention. Sure, the plot is what it is and I won't change my mind about it, but ACTUALLY what happens in this season is that the REAL plot is characters' development, specifically Dean's and, to a lesser degree, Cas's. It also makes more sense if you understand that the whole season is about the Dean-Crowley-Cas love triangle. If you get that, you will enjoy the season. I didn't and, as a result, I didn't quite like it. But I gotta be honest and say that the writing for this season was pretty good. Finally, like season 7, this is a connecting season, it prepares us for season 11 where the real prize is. So, in retrospective, I think it deserves ranking number 7 because it didn't give us anything substantial in terms of events but the characters grow a lot after this season so good for them (and for us).

#supernatural meta #spn analysis #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #crowley #spn season 10 #spn season 13 #spn season 12 #tv series #ranking #supernatural

[amazingmsme]

any hcs for lee!paul and ler!wiggly? really like their Pissy Eldritch God™ and guy who isn’t impressed or under his spell dynamic

Wiggly is sooo offended that this bland, boring guy is immune to all his tricks & to make matters worse, he stole his look! Minus the green, but Wiggly is not amused by their uncanny resemblance (there can be only 1)

But Paul is just not buying into any of the doll’s charm & he ain’t afraid to say it to Wiggly’s face. Mostly because he still doesn’t actually believe in any of his power, which only pisses him off even more

Wiggly decides to make Paul eat his words & busts out the tentacles, & only then does he realize how bad he fucked up. Tries to backtrack & apologize, but he’s already being held in the air by a tentacle wrapped around his waist

He taunts him by asking again what his thoughts on the Wiggly doll are & when Paul goes “it’s still just a dumb kids toy!” & Wiggly’s just like “are you sure that’s the answer you want to go with?” & starts sneaking his tentacles under his clothes to tickle him

Paul is taken way off guard & even goes “I-I thought the tickling thing was just a gimmick!” & Wiggly just chuckles like “& what a fun gimmick it is!”

Because they look so much alike, Wiggly went out on a limb & targeted his own worst spots to see if there was any correlation. Spoiler alert: there was (specifically his tummy, ribs, hips & knees)

Paul is surprisingly a very stubborn person, so I feel like he’d intentionally hold back his laughter for as long as he could because he knows that’s what Wiggly wants. Yeah it doesn’t work for long, but the sheer audacity is enough to make Wiggly wreck him more

Paul spends the whole time writhing in his hold & begging for mercy that he really ain’t gonna get. His reactions only encourage Wiggly to play with him even more. He gets real mean & teasy when he notices Paul trying to hide his face & uses his tentacles to spread him out

He’s a petty bitch so he literally doesn’t stop until he forces Paul to say that he “loves the Tickle Me Wiggly doll” & that he’s “the most powerful & scary out of all the lords in black”

Hope this can suffice! I just know they’d hate each other in the most fun way lol

#asks #anon ask #tgwdlm headcanons #lib headcanons #hatchetfield headcanon #paul matthews #wiggly #tickle me wiggly #wiggog y'wrath #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #lords in black #hatchetfield #hatchetverse

[qualityfunnyscenariosfire]

Wrongful Kidnapping

Male Mafia Fox Oc (Niki Cherri ) x wrongfully kidnapped reader (soft vore and cuddles)

It was a cold winter’s day and you were just returning home. The snow starts to fall as you make your way inside a building and up a flight of steps, your legs aching after the first 5 flights.

“Mmmh…” You groan, seeing that you were level 7. You sigh in relief as you turn to look at the hallway next to you. There were 5 doors, each having numbers to correlate with them.

You walk towards the 3rd door, the one with a dent next to the doorknob after your crack head of a neighbor decided to try and break in last night after you refused to let them use your spoons for something. “I gotta get that fixed soon, it’s ugly to the eyes.” You mumble, grazing your fingers against the large dent.

You fumble in your pocket for a bit, finding your keys in the right one. You take them out and unlock the door, immediately running inside as you heard your crackhead of a neighbor’s voice from down the hall, rambling on about needing spoons for their meth. You quickly lock your door, making sure it would stay locked for the night.

The lights of your apartment turn on as you flip the switch, yawning as soon as the lights hit your eyes. You take your coat off and kick your boots off as you start to unwind, putting your fluffy slippers on to get in your comfy state. The lights of your apartment slightly burn your eyes as you had to adjust to them from being in a white hellscape snow storm for the past hour. “Nggh, bright.” You groan, blinking rapidly as you make your way towards your room.

It was a messy, well slightly one. Your clothes were all over the floor but not on your neatly made bed, your closet was clean but it had stuff shoved in a corner, your floor was clean but there were still remnants of dust on the ground, your dressers were closed with some pieces of socks and shirts sticking out since your knobs were broken and had to be removed. All in all, your room was like ying and yang, one part clean and one part dirty.

You undress and grabs the sides of your middle drawer to pull it out, revealing your poorly folded pjs. You pick out a large XXXL t-shirt you got from a local amusement park and a pair of comfy shorts on to go with it. You put the articles of clothing on before shuffling into your bathroom, brushing your teeth and cleaning your face before it gets ruined by drool and pieces of fallen hair. “I feel fresh.” You mumble to yourself, making a goofy smile in the mirror before heading back to bed.

Your bed happily awaited you as you did one final stretch before plopping onto it, snuggling into your fluffy pillows and getting under your equally fluffy and comfy blanket. Snug as big, you curl up and turn your bedroom light off. The snow outside falls harder and faster as you heard it plop on the roof above you, making you more drowsy. You drift off just a couple minutes later, secure in your own comfy and dark world of your bed.

Until 2 hours later~

12 am.

 BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Wh-What the hell!” You jump out of bed, fumbling around your dark room as you try to figure out what the fuck is going on.

“OPEN UP!” A gruff voice yells from outside your apartment, the sound of banging getting harsher.

“Why?” You groan, putting your slippers on. You shuffle fiercely towards your door, grabbing your house keys in the process.

“Hello?!” You say, opening the door.

Two large men with a shorter guy in the middle stand in your doorway, giving you stern yet scary looks. They had guns, meaning they were ready for some business, the guy to the left of the one in the middle seemed a bit trigger happy as his hand twitched above the gun which seemed very ready to grab it and aim.

The man in middle walks towards you, smirking. “You thought you could hide from the boss? Didn’t cha.” He says in a Brooklyn accent, the smell of tobacco, smoke, and alcohol hits your noise.

“Come again?” Confused at whatever the hell they came for, you just tilt your head.

The man in the middle groans, grabbing your wrist tightly. “You thought that by simply running away, our boss wouldn’t find ya. Well, we did.” He growls, a bag immediately covers your head.

“ I don’t even know who you people are!” You yell, struggling as the two men grab you and bring you down the flights of stairs. “Let me go! I don’t even know who this boss guy is!”

“Tom! Matt!” The man in middle yells, apparently saying the two guys’ names. “Hush the tramp up!” He orders, the sound of the building door opening follows.

You felt a breeze of fridged and harsh winter air hit your knees as one the men grip you by both arms tightly. You squirm as your head is steadied before the feeling of something hard and metallic hits the back of your head. You black out with blood gushing down the back of your neck. With your limp body in one of the tall guys’ hand, the man in the middle escorts them and you into a huge black car. The guy who was on his right, named Matt, shuts the door behind himself as the car speeds off somewhere.

Timeskip~

“Wake up, tramp!”

The feeling of cold water hits your face. “Ngggghhh….wha….?” You groan, slightly mumbling as you slowly gained consciousness. All you could see was a light above your head, rope tied tightly around your wrists with your hands balled up in fists, and the guy who called you a tramp earlier holding an empty water bucket.

“Wh-Where….ngh….Wh-Where am I?” You manage to say, the feeling nausea and head pain hits you like a truck.

“Somewhere. Where no one can find you.” He replies, pulling your head back to get a good look at him. “And I’m happy to report that my boss arrived to see you. He’s never had an escaped target get so far from his house. You must’ve been a quick runner to be able to get 10 miles away from him. Let alone get that far and still alive long enough to get recaptured.” He chuckled darkly.

“I-I swear to you, I never ran away from anywhere. A-And why want me so badly?” You exclaim, yelping as the man socks you in the nose.

“Oh you better shut up about this "I don’t know what you’re talking” crap or I swear to god I’ll-"

"That’s enough Johnny."

A softer yet stern voice says from somewhere. The sound of heels click against the floor as whoever was talking approaches.

"But Mr. Cherri, I-"

”I said, that’s enough. Leave me alone with them." A growl followed, the Johnny guy walking away begrudgedly.

Whoever ordered him finally comes into your blurry view, it being a feminine male fox. He was very tall, 7 foot something being, and pretty large despite his slim fogure. Black lipstick and dark eyeshadow were on his white and orange furred face, making his expressions pop as his eyes looked down at his hands. Covering them was dark leather gloves that matched his black and white suit snd tie, faint blood stains adorning his adorments.

A scowl on his face formed as he took out a cigarette and lighter from his back pocket, igniting it. He walks towards your tied up self, blowing a puff of smoke into your face as he crouched in front of you.

”Gods damn, Johnny. Ya got the wrong person again! “ He harshly whispered, disappointment and anger washing over his face. He takes another hit, blowing out another puff as you shakily open both eyes wide.

"Wh-Who are you?” You ask.

“All you should know is that I’m Mr. Cherri. That’s it.” He responds, using the cigarette to burn through your restraints. “And it seems my goons kidnapped the wrong person. Aka you. They thought you were one of my runaway targets."

You watch the ropes fall off your wrists and legs, getting helped to your feet by the fox. "Can I g-go home?"

He shakes his head, letting you lean against him for support as he leads you towards another part of the space you were in. Your eyes making out a flight of steps that led to metal doors.

“No...not yet atleast. You’ll be staying with me in my penthouse until you completely heal from your wounds." His tail curls around you securely as you nod, watching him open the doors. Behind them lay, a mirror walled pathway that led to a small elevator, a button on the wall being pressed a to open the elevator doors, letting you walk in first.

The very bright lights sting your eyes as you lean again the cold metallic walls. He pressing the top button and watches the doors close before turning his attention back to you. He got a good look at you, seeing your hair all a mess and matted with scent of blood coming from you.

“What happened to you before my men brought you here?" He asks, seeing you shake at the notion.

“I-I’m not sure. A-All I know is th-that he and two men took me out of m-my apartment harshly, put a bag over my head and knocked me out with something hard and metallic. I awoke in chair, tied up, with my vision blurry and my head hurting like hell. I was punched in the face by him after I told him that I had no idea who you were and what was going on.” You simply explain, seeing that you two were two floors away from his penthouse which you guessed was at the top.

“Well, I’m still sorry for all the pain my dimwitted and stubborn as hell henchman did. He gets very intense and I guess he mistook you as a target of mine who escaped here 5 hours ago. They were spotted running in the same direction as wherever he found you.” Mr. Cherri says, walking out the elevator as the doors finish opening. He leads you down a long and pretty wall, seeing art and photos hanging from the sides. There were many of Mr. Cherri and this small bunny girl with him, he looked very happy in them.

“Uh..Mr. Cherri. If you, uh, don’t mind me asking…who is this?” You ask sheepishly, pointing over to one of the pictures. He turns to look at you, letting out a soft sigh.

“That’s my adopted daughter, Bonnible. She’s not here at the moment so she doesn’t know about you being here. That picture-” He says, taking it off the wall. “was when I took her out for the first time. She had just been adopted and I said to her that I would give her a day of fun. We were up until 3am that day, just having a blast.” He say, smiling happily at the picture. He then puts it back on the wall and keeps walking.

“She seems lovely” You remark, surprised at Mr. Cherri’s soft side showing so easily. I guess he talks about his daughter alot so he didn’t mind. The two of you get into the front foyer and living room of his penthouse, seeing how beautiful and pretty everything truly was.

“Your penthouse is wonderful, Mr. Cherri.” You say, looking at everything in awe.

“Thank you. And since we’re alone you can call me Niki.” He says, smiling at you as he takes his heels and gloves off. “I want you to get as comfy as you can during your stay. You can sit on the couch if you’d like.” He’s acting less stern and tense know, odd but comforting. He was in his kitchen area, making some tea for you. “

He sets you on his couch, making sure you sat uo comfortably before naking you some tea in the kitchen nearby. He hands it to you, watching you take some sips. You let out a sigh of content. “Oh what’s your name dear? If you don’t mind me askin’. ” He pondered, curling his fluffy tail around me.

“ Y/N.” You say between sips, soon finishing it. You hand him the empty cup.

“Well, that’s a wonderful name dear. Now, come with me, I’m gonna show you to my bedroom. You’ll be resting with me in there.” He says, walking right back over to you and gently picks you up with ease. He smiles at you and places his paw like hand on your face, gently stroking your cheek. “Christ, he really beat the shit out of you, huh hunny.” He coos, feeling ever so sorry at how bad you looked and all the pain you must’ve gone through.

“Mmmmh, Niki….do you have anything to help me with my soreness. The wounds still irritate me” You ask, enjoying being carried as he heads up his spiral staircase.

“Yes. I do……..but you might not like it.” He says, cringing a bit as he makes a turn down this hallway to your right and towards the door at the end of it.

“Wh-What is it?” You ask, seeing him stop at the door and do some security sequence with a laser scanning his eye.

“You’ll see...” He simply responds. You see his door slide open, closing immediately behind him as he walks into a dark room. He flicks a light switch, illuminating the area. You two were inside a romatic red, black and white bedroom with the curtains down. The bed looked all velvety and comfy with nice satin pillows near the headrest and a pretty red and white blanket. The room itself had a great view of his patio and the city at night with the windows slightly tented so the surrounding apartments could see inside.

He smiles as he sees you gawk at his pretty bedroom, placing you on his comfy bed. “Now, let’s get you out of those dirited up clothes of yours and into something way comfy.” He purrs, walking over to his drawers and pulling out a pair of pink and white pajamas. “My daughter wanted me to through these away but I was gonna keep them to use to as scraps for an outfit I was working on.” He says, handing the pajamas to you. “You can change in my bathroom.” He points over to an open door by his closet.

“Ooooh. What were you working on?” You ask, heading into the bathroom and changes.

“Oooh this nice blanket for her. But I couldn’t finish it since I didn't have enough of her old clothing to make finishing touches” He says, rummaging around his drawers. He pulls out just a pair of silk boxers and changes quickly so you don’t see him nude.

“Awww…” You say, cleaning the blood off your face and notices how swollen your cheek was. “Ow…”

“You okay in there, darlin’. ” He asks, his voice sounding worried.

"Y-Yea it's just..everything hurts." You huff, Niki gently wrapping his arms around you suddenly.

“Okay……….I know how to heal you. I only hesitant since I don’t want you to freak out once I show you my healing process.” He says, sitting on his bed with you now in his lap.

“Whatever you do, I don’t care. I just want to be healed, Niki.” You say, finally feeling more confident. You liked it.

“Alright..please don’t freak out.” He asks, licking his lips a bit. He positions you towards him, being leveled with his mouth perfectly. You nod and gasp slightly as his mouth opens wide in front of you, revealing wet, warm, and dripping maw. It was drooling rapidly, probably waiting for something to go inside it. You maybe. “Aaaaah…” Niki moans, his long tounge comes out and gently licks your cheek to get a good taste. “Ooooh….you taste soooo sweet…”

“U-uh… thanks Niki…” You say, feeling him tightly yet gently grab your arms and pick you up. He tilts his head back as he lowers you head first into his maw, making you drenched in his saliva. His tounge wringling around as he gets all of your taste all over his tounge, moaning at the wave of flavour.

“Nghh….” You groan softly as your head and soon shoulders get pushed to the back of his wet maw and down a long, tight, and wet tunnel. You hear him let out a groan as he makes a giant gulp which pushes you further down. The sound of something gurgling echoes loudly in your ears as an opening soon appears, revealing a large, wet, and dark space with a mysterious smell coming from it. Loud gurgles and groans surround you as your head plops into the space, making a wet thud. The smell if nasty hits your noise like a punch in the face as you feel your shoulders soon land with you.

At this point, your waist and abdomen were in his maw and partially down his throat. Your legs were sticking out and move a bit as he makes five very large and quick gulps to push you down quickly. Niki’s gut expands as your arms land in the space with you, his walls tighten around you to make you secure inside. His moans could be heard, muffled from inside as he licks your lower half and legs all over.

“It’s really smelly in here.” You say, seeing your chest and waist land inside with you. You slightly moved to get more comfy as your legs finally plop down with you.

“URRRRPPPPP! ‘Scuse me.” Niki chuckled looking down at his human sized gut. It was 16x it’s normal size, something that didn’t even phase him. “Sorry about the smell, I can’t really change it at the moment but the healing process will distract you from it.” He coos, hugging his gut while scooting back towards his pillows.

You were in a fetal position, feeling the liquid below you slowly rise up to your ankles. “It’s alright but what’s with this liquid?” You say, feeling it but not seeing it due to the dark.

“Oh! That’s just my healing liquids! I can make them glow for you so you can see.” He beams, sounding very proud of himself for this special occasion. The liquid do glow as he stated, revealing to be red and orange respectively. You gasp at how pretty and sparkly they were, seeing some of the liquid stick to your skin as the act like bandaids.

The clothes Niki gave you weren’t affected at all, not drenched/soaked by the liquids but your skin was. It was all slimy and smelly from the liquid but also numb and untense. His gut walls gently move around you, giving you a massage as the liquids do their thing. “Ooooh…….that’s nice.” You murmur, slowly relaxed and getting sleepy. “Then that means I’m doing good job.” Niki purrs, laying on his back to get more comfy since he wanted fo get under his covers. “Well, you get some rest dear.” He yawns, turning his lights off with a clap since he was to lazy to get up.

“Mmm…...…..okay.” You yawn. Nikk giggles as he turns to his side, making you get drenched by the liquid. It wouldn’t both you as your black eye was starting to heal from the liquid was, the pain subsiding.

“Good night, sweety. I’ll let you out in the morning.” He coos softly, falling asleep too.

#male pred #soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling #vore belly #monster vore

[missmeinyourbones]

IN LITTLE WAYS, WHEN EVERYTHING STAYS

a/n: rei got the kids the fuck out of that house au, maybe a little prequel to my where love lives au? reader referred to as she & girlfriend a few times, sibling tendencies amongst the rokis

In the streaky reflection of his bedroom vanity, Touya's mind circulates the same thought over and over again.

His shirt looks stupid.

And he doesn't even know what it is exactly that's making him look so fucking weird right now, but he's annoyingly hyperaware of how stiff he looks.

It's just a shirt, a nice one, at that; it's been washed and ironed and its buttons all correlate with one another so why does it look so awkward on him right now?

Just as he's debating between loosening up the collar again or ripping it to pieces, the situation somehow gets at least ten times worse within a matter of mere seconds.

"Are you hanging out with your girlfriend again?"

Like muscle memory, Touya's eyes close in annoyance at the sound of his youngest brother's nasally voice. Not botching to spare him a glance, he chooses to tug at the stuffy shirt collar.

"She's not my girlfriend," is mumbled with what Shouto knows to be both embarrassment and agitation.

"Then why are you wearing that stupid shirt?"

Touya tries, he truly does, to just bite his tongue and be the adult in the situation. Technically (and legally), he is the adult in the situation, but something about the know-it-all ten-year-old always brings out the immaturity in him.

"I think you're lying," Shouto continues, matter-of-factly. Gaming console in hand as his attention darts between what's on the screen and what's reflected in his brother's mirror, "I don't even think she's real."

Touya looks to put out the match before it can even catch fire. In a few strides, he's trudging towards his door and swinging it into motion.

"She's more real than the tooth fairy, I can tell you that--"

Just before he can get the satisfaction of slamming the door in Shouto's dopey little face, a thick wrap of fingers catches the wood before it shuts on its hinges.

Natsuo pushes the door back open with ease, the look on his face clearly amused with the bickering he's heard. When he sees Touya's appearance, he can't help but squint his eyes and lowly whistle.

"Slick. You seein' the girlfriend tonight?"

Nearly seething now at the second intrusion, Touya growls, turning his back on the two idiots in his doorway and returning his attention to the mirror.

"Not my girlfriend," he flatly recites.

The taller brother leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and a smirk that reads no good.

"Is she not your girlfriend because you haven't asked her yet or because she knows she's out of your league?" Natuso's tongue prods at the inside of his cheek in entertainment.

With it now being two against one, Shouto sees his window of opportunity and snottily chimes in, "Probably both."

After a brief glance at his phone and realizing it's nearly time for him to pick you up, Touya doesn't even spare them a glance. He quickly shifts his focus on undoing the highest buttons of his dress shirt.

"Eat shit."

Silence naturally settles amongst the three of them. Natsuo and Shouto make no move to leave their post at the door anytime soon, attention still quietly following Touya as he huffs and puffs around his room, messing up his hair and pulling at his way too rigid selves.

Natsuo, brave as he always has been, is unsurprisingly the first one to break the silence.

"Where are you takin' her that you need to wear that stupid shirt?

Touya knows it's a harmless question, but it bothers him all the same.

"Dinner."

"Where?"

"New place downtown."

Natuso nods in approval, "Are you paying for her?"

"Am I being interrogated?"

"You're paying for her?" Shouto crinkles his nose, "With what money?"

Touya's head doesn't miss a beat as it whips around with a slight smirk, "The money I took from beneath your fuckin' mattress."

"That's not even funny because I don't keep it there anymore--"

The three of them internally wince when the familiar squeak of Fuyumi's bedroom door flings open. On cue, she's tiredly sighing and stomping her way over to the commotion.

Touya doesn't need to see the scowl on her face when he can hear her from down the hallway, "Can you all please shut up before mom--"

She cuts herself off, appearing in the reflection of Touya's mirror with a face that reads a mixture of disgust and confusion.

She looks him up and down, and with the grace that only a sister could carry, delivers the final blow to her eldest brother's ego.

"Ew, why do you look like that?"

That last drop of charity in Touya's tiny heart shrivels up and runs dry when he snaps. "For fuck's sake--like what?"

The three of them watch as their sister gives Touya another once over before meeting his stare directly and scowling.

"Your shirt looks stupid."

In the creaky and muggy second floor of the Todoroki household, the air weighs heavy with sibling stress. Fuyumi glares, Natsuo chokes on a giggle, and Shouto's jaw is on the floor when Touya pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Get the fuck out of my room or I'm setting the house on fire," he exhales rather calmly, given the nature of his alarming (yet common) threat.

Unimpressed, Fuyumi is the first to leave, immediately followed by Shouto who quietly asks her about his own dinner. Natsuo hangs back for a second, continuing to watch his brother rub his calloused hands over his tension-filled face.

Giving up, Touya reaches across his bed and tosses on his old and ratty denim jacket over his nice, stupid shirt. When he catches Natsuo's eye in the mirror, he approvingly nods and shoots his older brother an encouraging thumbs up before, he too, leaves.

It's not two minutes later before Touya's lanky legs are carrying him down the wooden staircase of the house. He's throwing his scuffed boots on, yelling out to Rei about being home before the sun comes up, and taking a final look at himself in the reflection of the porch window before reaching for the door knob.

"Touya," a gentle voice calls as he makes a beeline to leave. To no one's surprise, it's Fuyumi.

He sighs but stops in his tracks anyway, allowing her to quickly scurry over to him. Her nimble fingers rise to fix the cuffed collar of his jacket before she smoothens out his shoulders and pulls taut on his zipper.

When she's deemed he looks acceptable enough, her voice comes as a knowing whisper. "Just ask her already," she prompts.

Touya knows she's right, but he can't help the bite that crawls from his throat when he says, "And what do you know?"

Fuyumi merely smiles and takes a step aside, giving him her stamp of approval and letting him open the front door.

"She seems good for you," she says. Taking one final look at him before turning her back and returning to the kitchen, her voice is warm and proud, "You've started brushing your hair again."

#should i make a masterlist for this mini-series? (odds are i never touch it again LOL) #todobros #todofam #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi fluff #touya todoroki fluff #dabi fic #touya todoroki fic

[petalsofyouth]

koi no yokan / part 1 | ran haitani x reader

tw: set in early 00s-10s, flawed characters, unreliable narrator, mentions of drug use, mentions of assault (nothing graphic) | i literally hate tagging so much because i feel like i missed something; anyways, if you think i really did tell me and i will include it.

wc: 18.516

author's note: i actually didn't want to post 'kny' on here and wanted my tumblr to be strictly for one-shots and drubbles, but now i haven't posted in so long & i desperately want to, so here we go.

~

part 1. 

The new place promised a new life with new memories and new friends and new basically everything. It was too much. It was suffocating to the point where your breathing wouldn’t even out and every next breath seemed not enough. You tried to calm yourself with your favourite cup of coffee and your read half through [page one hundred and thirty five] book. 

You brought a lot of books with you from your home. Them, all along with your other stuff still neatly packed in boxes had a faint smell of flowers. So mawkish it made you nauseous and despite heavy rain outside you wide opened every single window in your apartment. You wondered how you never noticed this (almost, not yet) stench back at home. 

At home everything smelled like this, because your father had a flower shop and your mom loved her enormous garden more than anything else. She spent hours outside. He was at work all day. You and your older sister were at home alone. 

You loved your family even though sometimes you wondered what was lacking. What was it that your heart was longing for. In all your years there you never found an answer to such an obvious question. Now, standing before a window wall, overlooking one of the many side streets of Roppongi in your late grandma’s apartment, you thought how amusing it was that when you escaped your native Obihiro you missed it so dearly. Do psychologists have a name for this feeling? As if knowing a name for something would provide you with shelter.  

A small rather inaudible sigh left your lips. You opened a balcony door smelling wet air. It will rain soon. Hopefully for hours and well into the night. But for now you will drink your homemade iced coffee and read your almost finished book. 

Because you are eighteen and it’s the end of March of 2006 and you will start lawyer school in less than two weeks and everything is so new and bright and sad at the same time. 

Being young is really truly overwhelming.

part 2. 

In the next two months you try to make new friends so you don’t feel that lonely. 

You go out with them a lot. To the cinema, to karaoke, to bowling, to their small apartments and huge mansions. Name it and you’ll be there. Just to feel a bit less lonely. Surrounded by people, with drink in your neatly manicured hands, you are almost a part of that raving crowd. 

Almost. 

It’s never enough and returning back to your own place that finally started indeed looking like your own place in the early morning when sky is pink and cold blue and your legs are so heavy you can barely stand is relieving. To the point you promise yourself it’s your last time going out. You would believe yourself, but then again you said the same thing last week and two weeks before that too. 

When friends don't magically appear after all these months you stop. You start attending all your classes, you read manga and books on your balcony, do homework and extra work to earn more credits. You cook and the smell of homemade food circulates the three storey building. Your neighbors must be mad at you because you usually play chef late at night. They either hate you or love you, you think. No complaints come though so you continue steering pots at three in the night. 

Your mom calls you twice every week. Your dad almost every day. Your sister never. She sends you messages instead. They are stupid and small. 

i am fine  (x_x)                                   (emojis she’s using never correlating with the text) 

it’s empty without you at home  

(/▿＼ ) 

found your stupid manga today & read it & why is this shit so sad. u r so depressing.  

i am fine  

[ ± _ ± ] 

don’t worry i won’t threw it out  

mom’s roses are withering she’s mad  

i am fine 

It’s never anything important so you reply the same nonsense back or sometimes nothing at all. You have a funny feeling you are missing out on something. You don’t catch what it is. 

You'll never do. 

part 3. 

Life in Tokyo is not easy, but it’s not that difficult either. You fall into a perfectly constructed routine quite quick, without any problem . 

You wake up. You make yourself your favourite iced coffee, throwing a little bit too much ice, and with a satisfaction you watch how ice melts, cracking under the warm hug of espresso. You drink your coffee on the balcony and then you go to university where you spend most of your day. 

In the evening you return home. You eat. You read or draw and then you go to bed. 

Somewhere in the middle of all these you find a friend. A true friend. She doesn’t go to parties and prefers to spend her free time in a coffee shop, walking around the park or reading a book. It sounds somewhat boring at first, but she’s a truly good person (and you haven't met a lot of those lately), so you succumb. 

She’s a Tokyo native which is insanely good, because she shows you a part of the city that was hidden from you all this time. Together you go to have the best ramen and yakitori and imagawayaki. You visit art galleries because you both are into the art and you both are lawyers to be, but you’d rather be an artist. You go to libraries and bookshops. You draw in the park together and at your apartment since she lives with parents and it’s more convenient to hang out at your place. 

Your new best friend is the one to warn you about gangs and all the criminal activity that is lurking in Tokyo’s darkest parts. It sounds more like a distant far away world that won’t ever touch you. You don’t feel frightened. After all you left it all at Obihiro with your sister and her stupid ex boyfriend who too was a part of the local gang. 

Didn’t you?

The calm voice of your friend continues naming all the gangs and then she fills you in on what they do and what territories they control and how exactly they do it. It’s crazy to think she knows that much about it. Especially for a future lawyer.  

You tell her just that. 

She smiles and says that her eldest brother is in the gang hence she knows so much. His gang is cool though. They don’t beat women or children. They challenge other gangs and they do try to be fair to everyone and everything. They are good guys. 

The way she talks about them you might think they are Robin hoods of Tokyo. 

You know for a fact it’s (probably, you have your doubts) not true. 

part 4. 

It is early in the morning when you wake up one day in July. It’s scorching hot and gladly you have no school today so you spend half of the morning in bed staring at white ceiling. Thinking about nothing. It’s an easy morning and you appreciate the calm - though very very hot - air that surrounds you. 

Laying around in bed proves nothing. It’s boring and soon your thoughts get too complicated. Too difficult. And if anything you don’t want today to be difficult.

It’s gotta be a nice day.  

That much is decided, when you slowly rise from the bed, fall on it again, lay there for two minutes listening to the clock doing its little, but loud tik-tak-tik-tak dance. Eventually you get up and stretching midway march into the bathroom. 

Bathroom is like a cold oasis in the desert. Your feet touching cool marble tiles, you cross a small room aiming towards a rather spacious but square form bathtub. Why and how your late grandma chose this ridiculous design is now history. You regret you never asked. 

After taking a long bath, you throw a towel around yourself and go to the kitchen. To make yourself a cup of iced coffee, of course. You don’t do breakfasts and now it’s well past the time people eat their gohan, natto and whatever else they have for their first meal of the day. You’ll cook something a little bit later. Or call your friend and go out to that now favourite place to have sushi. 

Summer breeze is gentle on your naked shoulders when you sit down on the balcony. The view is not much. Just another grey living building with luxury cars in the parking lot. Roppongi is surely different from your native Obihiro. Well, it’s even different from Tokyo itself. The contrast is subtle and you can’t tell what it is exactly, but it’s there. Present as ever. 

You love Roppongi.  

The quiet alone time ends suddenly. You hear something tearing and then a caustic smell of vinegar welcomes itself in the air. You groan. Loudly. Trying to guess what it is you stand up from your bamboo chair and look around as if it could reveal the sudden intruder. The unexpected intruder reveals himself. 

“Oi! It’s chips.” The voice comes from your left and you look that way seeing nothing, but a plastic beige partition. You never noticed it being there before. 

“How did…” You start, tilting your head so you could see the owner of the voice - he sounds young and you are quite curious because for all the months you live here you never knew you had someone your age living in your building. To be frank, you only met the old lady upstairs, but that’s because she was your late grandma’s friend and introduced herself first when you just moved in. 

“You make a lot of noise.” He stops, mulling something over and you can almost hear thoughts being born in his head. Instead, he snickers and says nothing. 

The barrier between your balcony’s space and his is nonexistent. The only thing dividing you two is that plastic beige partition which you easily look over from, steadying yourself on steel railings with one hand (the other one is holding the towel wrapped around your body) and furiously peer at your neighbour.  

You totally never saw him before because you have a feeling that you would have noticed and remembered him. He is quite a character.

Blond hair with almost neon blue highlights is what you see first. Then his glasses that cover his peculiar coloured eyes. From the distance you can’t quite tell what colour they are, but it’s not brown, hazel or blue. It’s some other colour or maybe it’s the mix of all of them. They catch your attention the most. Until, your gaze travels south, to his chest full of tattoos. He is not wearing any t-shirt; fair enough it’s too hot and he is home. 

Being too busy observing him you don’t notice him squinting his eyes and giving you almost the same identical look. The difference was though that he has seen you before. A lot of times actually. Now, he was just getting a better look. 

“Salt and vinegar? Really?” 

“Wanna some?” He offers you to which you wrinkle your nose and he snorts at you. 

It’s more of a laugh than anything else so you don’t even register it. You don’t reply and get back to your chair in the safety of your own balcony. The whole situation seems ridiculous but the more you think about it - sitting some metres away from him hearing him eating his chips - the more it feels like it was supposed to be like this. 

It’s your first time feeling something like this. 

It’s deviating. 

part 5. 

After this encounter you see him everywhere. 

On the flight of stairs. At the convenience store next to your house. In the parking lot under your building. You even bump into him on Keyakizaka street and once catch a glimpse of him at Roppongi Station. 

It’s not unusual. You are neighbours. It should feel normal, but it doesn’t. It’s almost like he follows you around prying into your daily life. You know it’s not true because he doesn’t have a reason for it. Well, he doesn’t even know your name. Maybe it’s just fate that wants you two together. 

Most of all, you meet on your joined balcony. He’s quietly eating his salt & vinegar chips while you read or paint. Sometimes he listens to his music. He does it wearing huge white Audio-Technica headphones. He blasts music at full volume and after some time you memorise his playlist. You must admit it. He’s got a nice taste in music. 

You say it to him once and when he replies you can hear an easy smile intertwining with his words. “No shit. I wanna be a DJ. I do have a full DJ setup, it’s just that I rarely use it nowadays.” 

“Why?” 

It’s a simple logical question, but he doesn’t answer right away. Silence settles between you two and soon the only sound you can hear is that old lady on the floor above speaking to her husband. She asks him what he wants for dinner. It somehow reminds you of your home in Obihiro and swarms of cicadas rise in front of your eyes. Their сhirping fills your ears. The sound of home and summer. 

The 2B pencil in your hand moves on its own while you wait for him to say something. It’s only after you sketch your yard full of cicadas on the pavement he finally speaks. 

“Just being busy with work and Ran doesn’t like it when it’s too loud and my music is too loud for him”. 

“Ran?” 

He waits again before responding. This time it’s shorter. You don’t manage to draw anything. “My older brother.” 

“He has a pretty name and I agree with him. Your music's too loud. I can hear it through your headphones all the time.” 

“It suits him. His name.” He ignores you siding with his brother and doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being teased by you. “Mine though doesn’t suit me. Do I look like a Rindou to you?” 

You laugh. He laughs too in a i told you so way. He doesn’t see you drawing gentian and orchid in the left corner of your sketch. 

You also think his name suits him well. 

part 6. 

When Rindou meets you outside he always acknowledges you in one way or another. 

It depends if he is alone or has company. 

If he is alone he’d chat you up, asking you meaningless questions about your day. If he is with someone he’d just nod at you. 

You don’t dwell on the subject. You don’t think he might be embarrassed of knowing you or some stupid shit like this. It doesn’t hurt your pride because you don’t know him that well after all. Besides your occasional balcony conversation you have nothing. You are barely even friends. 

He doesn’t know your name. He never asked. At this point you are almost strangers. 

part 7.

Your life carries on. 

You attend classes, go out with your best friend, read books, draw and chat with Rindou. Over time you two become more accustomed to each other. Conversations turn effortless. Personal information shifts to shared. Neither of you mind it. Oversharing and spilling secrets doesn’t exist in your comfortable bubble in the middle of Roppongi. 

Rindou is cosy. 

No matter how close you two grow to each other, you (not him too, but you don’t know it) tell your friends about your little friendship. A grim feeling of inevitable stops you every time you try to tell your best friend about him, his blue locks and round glasses. If you tell her something bad will happen. What you can’t tell. This ominous prediction follows you around. Never leaving. You keep your mouth shut. If anything, you don’t want to ruin your nook. 

He, on the other hand, doesn’t tell anyone because they won’t understand his desire to feel like a normal person for once in his life. He never mentions to you that he is in a gang. What he is doing with his brother and friends at night. He never shows you just how violent he can get and this side of him is hidden from you. Rindou likes it this way. This way you are friends with him because he likes vinegar & salt chips, wants to be a DJ and goes to gym every once in a while. 

You are not afraid of him and you do not pretend. 

He wants to keep it that way. 

So he, just like you, keeps you away from his world. 

By the end of the summer he learns your name. 

part 8.

Despite all your accidental meetings you’ve never bumped into Rindou when he was with his older brother. Despite that, you feel like you know him already. 

Rindou talks a lot about Ran. As it supposed to be, you assume. 

You don’t talk about your older sister that much though. 

You wonder if Rindou wonders why. 

However it may be, he never asks you about that.  

“Ran is a pain in the ass.” Says Rindou looking at the small screen of his Nokia 6230. He shoves white phone - every piece of technology he owns appears to be white and you want to ask if it is consciously done - in the pocket of his wide black sweatpants. “He is staying out today”. 

The intonation and tone he chooses are suggestive to where his brother might be staying and what he plans on doing. You laugh and don’t press too much. It’s not your business and you are not interested in how Ran spends his leisure time. 

“At least he could’ve told me earlier. Kakucho invited me to go to Atami, but he is already on his way and I don’t wanna go on my own all the way there. It’s what…  like two hours? Three?” 

He says all that in front of the convenience store where you both met some minutes ago. It’s well after six in the afternoon and street lamps are barely emitting any power yet. Soon the streets would be draped in these nostalgic azure lights and the whole Roppongi would come alive while other parts of Tokyo would slowly fall to sleep. 

There are no people outside and no cars pass by you two. Your small nook is silent. Even the ventilators of refrigerators at convenience store stopped producing noise. The next thing you know it’s raining. A little drizzle. You sigh. “Wanna come over? I’ll cook.” 

“Real homemade food?” 

“Yeah. What a stupid question.” 

He smiles a bit, thinking to himself that, well, maybe missing out on hot springs in Atami wouldn’t be so bad. He knows for a fact nor Ran nor Kakucho would eat anything smelling so delicious like your food. For a bunch of delinquents without family a plate of soup made specifically for them is a huge deal. 

Of course, he doesn’t say any of these. He shrugs, his shoulders going up and down, and takes a huge paper bag with groceries out of your arms. 

Together you walk towards your apartment building. 

part 9. 

You didn’t make soup that evening. 

In the role of the guest Rindou took it upon himself to decide what you both should have for dinner. As you guessed before he wasn’t a shy type so feel yourself at home words died on the tip of your tongue the second he took his adidas sneakers off and went ahead of you to the kitchen. Strangely enough he went in the right direction. Maybe the layout of your apartments were the same. You were neighbours after all.  

When you showed up in the kitchen, dressed in your for home shorts and your dad’s old t-shirt, he already stuck up everything you bought earlier in their places and was now patiently waiting for you, playing snake on his phone.

“I think you can make us soba with vegetables. And some chicken too, but I like it without skin”. He said, not raising his head in your direction. He appeared strangely familiar in your kitchen. As if he was there every day. 

You nodded, not sure if he was paying any attention to you at all. “I have chicken breasts. Do you prefer enoki or shiitake?”

“Put both. I like both.” 

Cooking is not a quick business. Rindo grew bored of watching you doing the same thing with different products and took it upon himself to tour your apartment alone. You didn’t mind. You had nothing to hide. Your paintings, mangas and books were all there was. Doubtful it would be of any interest to him you didn’t worry. 

To Rindou it was different. He felt like he was intruding your personal life. Probing himself to become a part of it. If not that accidental meeting and Ran’s spontaneous decision to stay god knows where he wouldn’t be here at all. Looking at your canvases with unfinished paintings woke inside of him a dreadful feeling of unbearable closeness to you. 

In all his life he never befriended anyone. All people came and went out as they pleased. Nobody stayed for long. He didn’t give them a reason either and not a single person asked for it. 

Nobody made an effort to stay.  

Looking at your pencil sketch of the valley full of gentians he already knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if you went away too. 

part 10. 

“I was in a juvie with Ran”. The confession comes out of him suddenly. He looks you in the face trying to decipher your reaction. There’s none that he could pinpoint. “We got out recently.” He adds as an attempt to fill the silence that lingers around the corner. 

You put chopsticks aside and pressing your lips into thin line attempt to guess the motive behind his words. 

Why did he say this now? 

What is the reason? 

Why did he decide to open up now that you having a quiet dinner at your apartment?

You find all the answers in his eyes. They are like amethyst. Blue and pink mixed together in a beautiful peculiar shade that suits Rindou just a little too much. They are intent and pleading. He has decided something for himself while you were busy cooking and what it is he doesn’t let you know yet, but you sure it has something to do with your hasty friendship. 

“Why?” 

“We beat up the leader of the gang and his vice to take over Roppongi. The vice didn’t make it out alive. Ran might have gone overboard a bit.” 

“So it was an accident?” Your words are not of justification, but about stating the truth. 

“Pretty much, but I don’t regret him dying.” He waits a moment and then adds. “If I knew the outcome before I would’ve done the same thing”. 

The silence that settles between you two is heavy, but not uncomfortable. It changes the inevitable course of your relationship and you both let it do it. Whatever said is said. There is no turning back. 

You avert your gaze to the steaming food in front of you and take a deep breath before saying what you want to say. Rindou gets ahead of you interrupting what yet to be said. “Do you think differently of me now that you know it?” 

“No.” Your response is immediate. No delays. No hesitation. “Still the same Rindou as before. Some of us have to do fucked up things to survive.” 

“Did you kill someone?” 

Your laugh fills the room and cracks in his heart that were there because of worry. He is ridiculous, he knows it. 

But it’s easy to be ridiculous with you. 

part 11. 

In the month to come you learn more about Rindou Haitani. 

He and his brother are in the gang, but they are by themselves. They rule over Roppongi alone and every single person there is theirs. [This is said in a proud voice and when you ask if you are theirs too since you too now live in Roppongi Rindou goes red. It’s cute.] Their parents are not with them. If they are dead or alive, if they were forced to leave them or abandoned them out of their free will, Rindou doesn’t elaborate. The wound might be still too fresh or maybe it would never heal at all. 

After every bit of information he asks you if you are still seeing him the same way. You always say yes. 

You open up to him too. You tell him more about Obihiro. Your parents that are married and that there’s no love in that marriage anymore. That you believe your dad has a mistress and that your mother knows and that this is a reason she is so attached to her garden full of roses. She tends to flowers and loves them in a way she can’t care and love her husband. 

One evening when Rindou stops by your apartment and sits on the bar stool watching you cook chicken katsu you tell him about your sister. How she got involved with a guy who was in a local gang and that your parents blame him for her drug addiction. It’s a touchy subject and he is the first person you ever discussed this with. 

“You don’t think he is to blame?” He asks in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. 

“No. I think my sister knew better than this. She was her own person before she met him and after she met him. You can’t blame somebody for a decision you solely made.” 

Rindou senses your anger. He thinks [knows] you’ve never been in love. 

part 12. 

It’s November when you are introduced to Ran. 

By this time he’s heard about you [and you yourself albeit muffled by thick glass of balcony door] numerous times. The occasion to meet you never presented itself. Even though it would be a lie from his side if he says he wasn’t dying to meet you. His interest was as high as Fugaku. Not because of you as of you, - he didn’t know you and he’s hardly a curious person - but because of his brother’s soft demeanour and lack of usual disdain he presents around other people. Never you. 

It nags Ran more than he would care to admit. 

The absence of interest in him from your part was a bit suspicious. It depended on what Rindou had told you about him so it might be just his brother's fault and not your mere disregardless of Ran. Who in their right mind would purposely ignore him? 

Their cupboard where they store instant noodles are empty and Ran groans when his palm touches the dusty wood surface. He is tired. And sleep deprived. Too many responsibilities weighed  heavy on his shoulders. Last night he returned home around five in the morning and went immediately to bed. His only meal of the day was tuna onigiri he bought at 7/11. It tasted sloppy and rice was not cooked the way he liked it to be cooked. He complained about it all to Rindou who just clattered. To him, onigiri seemed fine. Not the best he had and certainly not worthy to whine about the whole night. 

Ran was just being Ran. Now he was starving. His empty stomach churning. 

“What did you eat today?” He turned around and suspiciously eyed Rindou who was sitting back to him on their newly bought white sofa watching TV. The show running there was unfamiliar to Ran. 

“Rice, two eggs and plum pickles.” 

The last time Ran had plum pickles happened a long time ago he couldn’t even remember when exactly, less alone the taste. His mouth watered all the same. The non-bothered expression [he could sense even while looking at Rindou’s nape] on his brother's face only added to his starving agony. “You went out?” 

“No. Well… technically yes, but not really.” 

Whatever the meaning of Rindou’s answer, Ran doesn’t catch it. He thinks of asking for an explanation, but senses Rin furrowing. Too focused on the jumping screen of the TV. His whole attention focused on a documentary about wildlife of South America. Ran’s mouth sprawls into an oh-i-know-what-you-are-thinking-of-now sly smile when he goes around and catches Rin bite his lower lip. It makes Ran forget about his minor problems. For the next couple of minutes if so. 

Teasing his little brother about his new female friend is more important. And fun. 

“Why are you being so defensive when it comes to our new neighbour?” 

The question is simple, but the devious tone it's being asked suggests it’s more than this. Rin wants to punch his brother, but instead he sighs. He can’t understand why he is being so protective over you too.

“I am not fucking being defensive. It’s your way of asking about her that makes me angry.” 

“My way of asking?” 

“Yes. It’s like you wanna ask me if we fuck or not?” 

“Do you?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Ran. No. She’s just a friend.” Rindou rises from the sofa and storms off to his room. He doesn’t forget to slam the door so Ran understands the level of the anger he feels towards him now. 

He does. 

So, Ran sprawls on the white sofa. Pillows here are so fluffy he might fall asleep for an hour or so. After he wakes up he’ll knock at Rindou’s door and together they will go to the convenience store. Rindou won’t be angry anymore. He’ll whine and complain and maybe won’t speak with Ran for fifteen minutes or so, but eventually he’ll put the whole conversation about you aside. 

After all they are brothers and Rindou can’t stay mad at Ran for long. 

It goes the same for Ran too. 

part 13. 

When Rindou warned you about the dark alleys of Roppongi you should’ve listened to him. 

But as all people, you too, you believe you are invincible. You believe it won’t happen today or with you. Anybody, but you. 

When you go out that night to meet your best friend at Kagurazaka, there’s not a slightest worry in your bones. You chat freely, drink two cocktails on an almost empty stomach - your impromptu dinner with Rindou happened around four and now it was approaching midnight - and politely decline your friend’s invitation to stay over. She doesn’t live nearby, but her house is relatively closer than yours. It doesn’t matter to you. 

You want to go home. 

You catch the last train. It’s empty. The night is clear and beautiful. The glimmering lights of Tokyo are more than mesmerising. They are surreal. Nothing around you suddenly is real. You have an urge to draw the scenery. You dig into your bag, but there���s no pencil there nor there’s a piece of paper. It's almost like a lost chance, but instead of giving up, you memorise the view. How houses look, their lights, neon banners and small nooks. 

High on Tokyo you arrive at Roppongi station. With a picture before your eyes you don’t notice three young men following you home. If you would, you probably would’ve thought better than cutting your way home and instead would've chose the main road. But you don’t and they feel incredibly lucky.

A beautiful girl and a purse with money. 

Firstly, they yank your bag and when you don’t give it up easily they push you hard to the ground. You fall on the wet pavement utterly confused. Sharp pain goes through your ribs. You try to stand up, not hearing their mocking laughs and your keys falling to the ground. 

It should be humiliating, but you don’t feel humiliated at all. Not even when the hands of one of them goes under your dress. It’s cold and wet and your body starts shaking with anger. You are silent when your first crashes onto his face. The stench of blood is suffocating and the skin on your knuckles brakes with a loud thud. 

You doubt they hear it or care about it because one of them slaps you across your face. Your nose bleeds and blood plops down. It brings a salty taste to your mouth. It covers your collarbones and stains your dress. At this moment you know that there’s nothing you can do and that it is better to give up so you run to the convenience store. It’s two blocks away and there’s always a cashier inside. They won't dare to do anything in somebody’s presence won’t they? 

It’s a fact that those who attacked you are cowards. Nobody else, but a coward would attack a girl in a dress returning home. 

part 14. 

Rindou sees you first. 

He is without glasses - forgot them somewhere between arguing with Ran and forgetting to grab keys from their apartment - but he can clearly see the blood on your face and clothes. He drops the iced peach tea bottle and storms off past confused Ran. 

It’s too late for Halloween parties and he knows you well enough to know that this is not some trickery. It’s the real blood coating very real you. He puts his palms on your shoulders, you are stiff underneath him, but you don’t cry and he takes this as a good sign. “What happened?” 

“They…” You stutter, confused expression on your face, you don’t look at him, but between your bodies, at his nike shoes. They are white. As expected. You don’t want to stigmatise them red. “Somebody just attacked me. Three of them.” 

“Who and where?” The voice is unfamiliar. He sounds similar to Rindou’s, but is more high and persuasive. Rindou never speaks like that. It might be somebody else. 

This somebody else lingers behind his brother. His gaze never leaves your face and despite the situation he finds you very beautiful. There’s something about you that knocks him off immediately and when you raise your eyes at him he knows he is doomed. 

Ran being Ran he shows none of it. Neither do you. 

“Down the street to the left then again to the left and then to the right.” You explain, ignoring the intensifying grip of Rindou’s fingers clawing at your shoulder blades. “There were three of them.” 

Ran flashes you a smile. It’s genuine and you are confused at what exactly is here to smile. “Rin take her home. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Do you have it with you?”   

Ran smirks. He follows the directions you gave him and disappears under the blue lights of lamps. 

Not without showing his baton to worried Rindou. He makes a whole show of it, taking the weapon out of his sweats’ pocket and raising it up so it is visible. He doesn’t turn to look at you to see if you are watching him. He knows you both do. 

part 15. 

It’s your first time being inside their apartment, but no matter how much you want to tour it, Rindou shows you into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you pass a small dressing room to get inside wondering why there’s a sink in it, but you don’t get to ask because Rindo tells you to wait a second. 

He brings you a change of fresh clothes. It’s black sweats and a grey oversized t-shirt. You want to ask to whom they belong, but somehow you understand they are Rindou’s. He wouldn’t just pass his brother’s clothes like this. 

Before getting into the bathtub you examine your body. There are bruises on the left side that mark your skin from where your breasts are and all the way down to your leg. It’s almost like Rindou’s tattoo. You smirk and try not to move much, because once you see the damage it starts to hurt as if your brain only detects what can be seen. Fucking fascinating. 

The door to the bathroom is not locked. You remember it when the first drops of hot water fall onto your aching body. You doubt Rindou or his brother would barge in though so you aren’t worried. Methodically, you wash your face, clean your scraped knee and watch blood mixed with water disappear through the drain. Once again everything feels out of place. Your blood, your black painted toenails, scratches and bruises it feels like they aren’t you. Like they aren’t yours. But the hurt reminds you very vividly that this is simply not true. It’s all you. 

What happened today happened to you. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

You look around yourself searching for the soap or something else that will scrap this day off you. On the white plastic shelf you notice two soaps, one shower gel and god knows how many hair products. There’s no way to tell what belongs to whom so you take whatever smells better to you. 

Inside your head it’s silent. No replaying of the events. Nothing. It’s not that you do that deliberately. You are not sure you possess that kind of will. It’s extremely hard to choose what you want to think about. Thoughts are not like trains. You don’t get to miss some and then hop on the next, because you like it better. You’ll board every single one and live it thoroughly. 

Want it or not. 

“Did they smack you in the face?” 

It’s the first thing Rindou asks when you emerge from the bathroom. He observes you carefully from the bar stool. Better than anybody else he knows what it’s like to deal with strong emotions and unpleasant situations. He is surprised though when you roll your eyes at him and laugh. Shouldn’t you be crying? Or is it that bad you numbed yourself? The sudden alert in his eyes sells you to him. 

“They did. And they also pushed me to the ground. I have a huge bruise right here.” You show him where, pointing your hand from breasts to your leg. “Nothing to worry about though.” 

He doesn’t understand why you are trying to comfort him when it should be the other way. He sighs. “Get on the sofa I’ll bring you an ice pack and this cream Ran got at the pharmacy the other day. Works like fucking magic. It’ll stop swelling and the colour won’t be so bad.” 

You don’t ask him why they have this cream or so many other medicines. It’s pointless. It's common knowledge to you now what they are doing. You sit on the sofa where earlier today Ran took a short nap before he and Rindou went to the convenience store. Just at the right time to meet you. Coincidence or not you are really grateful you saw them there. You tell it to Rindou. 

He shrugs. A small smile breaks out on his lips and he sits next to you handing you ice wrapped in two towels. “You would’ve come to me anyway. Even if we weren’t there. Right?” 

“Probably yes. I dropped my keys and the trains stopped by now.” You put ice on your face. Gently. It hurts nonetheless. 

“Probably.” He mocks you. And then silence feigns over you as he spreads cream for bruising between his palms. 

It’s an unusual silence full of words and noise. Neither of you disturbs it. Each listening and hearing what they need to. You take this as a chance to observe the living room and small bits of kitchen. It’s behind you so you don’t turn and look at it afraid Rindou might find it noisey. He obviously wouldn’t. 

“Is this your DJ booth?” You ask pointing at a huge table with what looks like a small laptop, DJ’s setups and so many other things you don’t know the proper name of. “I’ve never heard you using it. I bet you can hear it from my apartment”. 

He turns around looking at and you find his gaze amusing. He looks at it like a man in love. Then an annoyed expression where his blonde eyebrows are furrowed and lips shut tight grace his features. “It’s because Ran is not allowing me to bring my friends home. Says we are too loud. He only likes it when Kakucho or Sanzu are here. He is not even letting me bring girls home. Says there are love hotels across Tokyo for a reason.” You laugh and your laugh is contagious because in a couple of minutes Rindou laughs too. It is rare to hear him laugh so wholeheartedly. He is usually most reserved and tries to keep everything to himself. You always wondered if it has to do something with how he was raised and how his older brother affected him? Keeping emotions stocked up inside yourself isn’t a biggie. The problem starts when they are too much and with them you too are getting too much. 

To Rindou a way to loosen up and let go is a fight. You suspect just as much, but he never says it out loud. It’s an awful thing to say, he believes. 

“Do you mind lifting your shirt up a bit? I warmed the cream for you.” 

You do as he asks. 

The situation would’ve been awkward would it be insinuated under different circumstances, but neither of you twists the meaning of what he is doing. He just tends to your wounds. In a very moderate and tame way. This is how you learn that despite his harshness and violent commitments, Rindou is a very kind - soft-hearted for his people even - person. It’s a shame you think of him like this only now when he was being like this all the time. 

When everything is set and done, Rindou brings you a pillow and a patched velvet blanket. The blanket looks out of his style. All bright with knitted flowers it’s like a white spot was placed on Malevich’s “Black Square”. You realise, there are a lot of details and things you don’t know about him. Today’s events, however damaging they are, bring you closer to each other. Another milestone. And you finally met his brother. 

Speaking of whom. 

“Would your brother be okay?” 

Your sudden question takes him by surprise. He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on the stove. He intends to make a green tea for both of you. It will help him calm his nerves down and hopefully ease your headache and stress. The wave of it still hadn’t hit you. It is always the same for most people going through traumatic events. We all postpone the inevitable, bottle up emotions inside us, and on the second day or third week - it doesn't really matter when - do we accept that whatever we went through was real and valid. It happened and we need to live it through one more time before we let it go. 

For some people, like Rindou, it never goes away. It builds him. It becomes one with him. 

He hopes it won't happen to you. 

He hopes you eventually forget all about it. 

“Yeah. He is Ran Haitani.” You are yet to comprehend the meaning of the weight Haitani surname carries around Tokyo. Gangs, criminals, delinquents and their world is still uncrossed territory. Whatever you know you know from Rindou and your best friend. Both don’t say much. “Those who attacked you, did they want something else from you too? Did they try to do anything?” 

Rindou settles a hot water pot and two cups on the table in front of you. Inside the cups there is dried tea. It smells delicious. Calming and reassuring. 

“No. Even if they wanted to, I ran away before they could.” You lie. The print of the hand of the other man on your thigh is one of the few things you could recall. “By the way, these shower gel and shampoo you have, they smell amazing. I’ll buy the same.” 

Squinting his eyes, he leans towards you and putting his hand on your head brings it closer to him so he can smell it. “I swear… Don’t tell Ran about it. He is already more cocky than he should be.” He sits back, relaxing on a plush sofa. “Mine is good too. It’s like a…” 

“Like a mint.” You tease him. 

He scowls. “Drink your tea and try to get some sleep.” 

You bite another smile to yourself and do as he says. 

Before you fall asleep you see those mesmerising lights of Tokyo. 

You remind yourself to draw them. 

part 16. 

You and Rindou fall asleep before Ran comes home. 

It’s almost dawn. The sky is shrugging off the black of the night and dresses in pretty pink, yellow and baby blue. In the city, one needs to go somewhere high to meet the sunrise or sunset. In Tokyo there are numerous locations for city viewing that usually attracts tourists. Because of that Ran hasn’t been to any of them. He thinks, going out for stargazing or to watch sunset or sunrise is stupid, anyway. He prefers to stay in and sleep. 

He doesn’t like to be up all night either, but now, returning home he looks up at the sky and for the first time in his life, he might agree he was wrong. It’s gor-ge-ous. 

The baton in his right hand is stained with blood. At first when he arrived at the alley where you were supposedly assaulted he got disappointed. No one was there. Drops of blood and your keys along with other stuff like lip balm, spiral hair tie and empty wallet with discount cards and coupons proved to him that he has not been mistaken. It was exactly where everything happened. Just no one was there anymore. 

Carefully he picked everything up, checking twice, just so he didn’t miss something. Then, Ran called Sanzu. If you ever need to find someone, Sanzu is your choice. 

He and Sanzu found them in an hour. They begged for forgiveness, but Ran was so tired and Sanzu was already so high. Nothing they could’ve said would be of any help. By the end of it all, they gave all the money they took from you and even more. Ran made sure they apologised enough. Pity, you were too far away to hear.

Now, the solemn apartment greets him with background noise only TV could make and Rindou’s soft snoring. Ran takes his shoes off, neatly puts them in the shoe box, places your bag on top of it and goes straight to the bathroom. It reeks of blood and his shampoo. On the tile floor lays your bloody dress. It’s pretty and stylish. Not too girly in his opinion and he likes it, but thinks you chose just the worst day to wear a beige short dress. 

He lifts your dress and throws it in the basket where they store their dirty clothes. Doing so has a strange feeling to it. It shouldn’t be that natural. He should be weirded out by your presence in his sanctuary where he is at his most vulnerable and he knows you are here because he feels tiny little needles poking at his body. 

Maybe he is just tired. 

Or maybe - and Ran is sure it is the real reason - there was something so gut wrenching sweet about your face covered in blood under the neon sign of a convenience store, it was all he could think of since. 

The immediate attraction he sensed towards you was now giving him hard times. You were Rindou’s friend. No. You were a very good friend of Rindou and while Ran couldn’t know if his brother liked you - like liked liked you - he could clearly tell that he cared about you so much he didn’t want you to meet Ran. 

He fills the bathtub and slides into hot water. His skin is burning but it is a pleasant feeling. From the bathroom he can’t hear if he woken you or Rindou and he hopes he didn’t. He doesn’t have any energy to talk or look presentable or do anything really. What he desires is to fall asleep right here in the bathroom in warm hugs of water. He wishes someone could hug his tired brain the same way. 

On his way to his room he can see the glimpse of you. He stops. It’s funny how you sleep where he slept not so long ago today and just now he was taking a bath where you had been taking it. Too, not so long ago.

He shakes his head.  

Sometimes he thinks about the weirdest shit. 

It’s crazy. 

part 17.  

Rindou wakes up first. He lets you sleep well past afternoon and when you open your eyes and emerge in his room he gives you back your bag and keys to your apartment. 

He says he can’t find your dress anywhere. 

He asks how you feel. 

“I feel like my body was put through a meat grinder.” You shrug. “Other than that it’s fine. I am gonna go home now and prepare something to eat. You and your brother are welcome to crash at my place later.” 

“Ran would appreciate it.” 

You nod at him. With a bag in your hands you go home. 

part 18. 

It’s peculiar how yesterday evening another you was going out of your apartment and now this different version of you crosses threshold again like it’s nothing. You hang your key by the screw near the door, you take your shoes off, sit your bag on the backless stool right by the entrance and go inside. 

You don’t lock your door. You doubt bad luck would strike you twice. And to be honest after what happened you don’t feel afraid at all. [Not that you were before.]

The image of night Tokyo is still in front of your eyes and it jumps in your heart alive demanding to be painted right this second. It’s very difficult to tame your creative urges, but you do your best and go straight to your bathroom. To shower and see how much bruising has progressed. 

In the pale white light, with purple splotches and scratches your body looks different. It’s you and at the same time it’s not. You observe your reflection closely trying not to miss any detail. You want to remember this version of you. Harmed, but not beaten. But all there is is a strong sense of alienation. You lift your right arm up and the person in front of you does the same. You do the same with your left arm, then you stand on your tiptoes and then you jump and then you turn turn turn until your head feels fuzzy and you fall to the ground. 

Afraid, you sneak a glance at the mirror. What would you do if there’s a person in the reflection? The mirror is clean. There is nothing that shouldn’t be there. 

You let out a breath. 

Everything is good. 

Everything is going to be okay. 

part 19. 

The washing machine is half way through its programme when there's a knock at your door. 

“Oi. Why didn’t you lock your door?” It’s Rindou. You can hear him taking his shoes off and making his way to the kitchen. By now he knows your apartment like the back of his hand. “You should be more careful.”

You shake your head, disapproving. “I doubt someone would break into my apartment.” In your hands you form a ball of rice. Large handful. Your already made onigiri lined up on the kitchen table look perfect to Rindou. You however see every bit of essential rice poking out. You sigh and add. “Besides, what would they find here? My canvases? My pastels? My collection of coloured pencils? I don’t even own a TV.” 

“You.” He deadpans, stealing a mouthful of shredded tuna mixed with mayo. “Just lock your door. That’s all. Two fillings? Is this one salmon teriyaki?” The spoon he found in tuna goes all the way to the - indeed - salmon with teriyaki sauce and spring onions. He doesn't bat an eye that he is doing something wrong when he puts the spoon back. Instead he looks around. Almost anxiously. He raises up from the table and goes all the way to the pots sitting on the stove. WIth one swift motion he lifts lids and checks what’s inside. He gasps. “Did you make rice with eggs and spam? It’s Ran’s comfort food. He would eat anything now though. He hasn’t had a proper meal in days.” 

“He doesn’t seem like a person who would skip a meal.” You mumble, contemplating between taking a new spoon or continue using the one Rindou had so nonchalantly put in his mouth, devouring onigiri fillings. 

“I said a proper meal. He was surviving on ready-to-gos.” 

“Still better than salt and vinegar chips, I guess.” You shoot him a teasing smile which he warmly accepts with a mocking scowl. 

You choose not to change the spoon. 

While you continue to prepare dinner Rindou disappears somewhere inside your apartment. Judging by his heavy loud footsteps he is in your bedroom. 

There is only one thing he could do there and it’s checking your sketchbook. Earlier today after the quick shower and getting laundry set up you sat down on your bed wrapped in a large towel that felt like a cloud and drew for an hour. Creativity, that art provided you, eased your mind. Soon enough the ache in your mind and body started to fade. In that urban drawing you were sketching, events of yesterday never happened. There, you were never assaulted. You were still on the train going from Kagurazaka to Roppongi. Thinking about nothing and feeling everything. 

There, you still haven’t met Ran. 

Why you think of him at that moment is confusing. There is no logic behind it. Something somewhere inside of you just brought his being out. Thinking about it, you didn’t even have a chance to properly introduce yourself to each other. You never planned on meeting him so you never thought about how it would go, but still there’s a hint of disappointment that the first time he saw you, you were covered in blood. 

The painting in your lap is unfinished. It’s half way through. Or even less. Urban sketches demand a lot of time because of all the tiny details they consist of. Pursing your lips, you look at the drawing, not sure if you like it or want to rip it apart. Abrupt throw - which is Ran Haitani - halt the whole process to an end. You won’t draw a single line today. That much you understand. 

Now, sitting on your bed, gazing at your sketchbook, Rindou for whatever reason it may be recognizes not the Tokyo or its lights or its small alleys, but his older brother. Yes, it’s buildings. Yes, it’s street lamps. Yes, it’s hundreds of windows and lanterns of the small alley where in the morning merchants will sell fresh fish, vegetables and street-food. And yet, all he sees is Ran. It’s so evident it knocks him off. He almost has trouble breathing and he so wants to ask you if you did it deliberately. Knowing what you are doing and still doing it on purpose. 

He is afraid you might find it stupid because it’s a landscape. And more than anything Rindou doesn’t like to put himself in a situation where someone would think he is stupid. He hates the feeling. 

Silently, he closes your sketchbook and places it on your nightstand where he notices a manga. It’s the second volume of “Kagen no Tsuki” by Ai Yazawa. He grabs it and brings it with him to the kitchen where he sits across from you. You are still making onigiri. 

“Don’t read it. It’s a really sad story. I cried for days. And every time I reread it, I still cry like the first time.” You warned him noticing the manga in his hands. “I am almost done. Will your brother come soon or do you wanna go fetch him? The food will go cold.” 

The reminder of Ran coming from your mouth unsettles him. There is no reason for him to feel this way, but he still does. He clenches the book so much his knuckles go white. If you notice you don’t say anything. “Why do you keep reading it time after time if it’s sad and makes you cry?” 

“I guess I love sad stories.�� You say simply, licking your lips after. You finish the last onigiri, put it on the plate and rise from the chair. Your body aches, but you stretch anyway. “And it’s Ai Yazawa, Rindou. You can’t help, but return to her stories.”  All of a sudden, a thought that you would never find him stupid, flashes through his mind and eventually he relaxes. 

The book slips from his grip. 

part 20. 

Ran is wearing a dark grey loose knitted sweater - it has the same colour as pavement outside your building - and a pair of baggy black sweats. His hair is tied into two neatly done braids. If you thought Rindou has long hair it’s just because you haven’t seen his brother’s yet. Yellow tails of his braids reach just below his thorax. 

They are probably hella long undone. 

Ran looks cosy and sleepy. His downturned eyes scan the room almost curiously, but there’s no lively emotions just yet. Until he stumbles at you and Rindou. The corner of his lips tug upward. Just a bit. Then his lips form a shape of “o” as he sees Rindou helping you set the table. Something he hasn’t seen in… forever? Domesticity was a foreign concept to them both. 

“The door was unlocked.” He says, leaning on the countertop with his elbow. 

Ran looks as if he hasn’t spent a single thought on his looks and came right away as he was. Rolled out of bed and emerged in your apartment. This however couldn’t be true. You’ve seen the enormous variety of shampoo, gel showers and other cosmetic necessities [totally unnecessary for Rindou though] in their bathroom. 

Hearing about the door you shoot Rindou a smug glance which immediately sparked an interest in Ran. He has never been with you two together and now seeing you interact so smoothly, in a familiar way, naturally created a lot of assumptions. Were you and Rindou that close? 

Despite yesterday's question he could now admit that there was not an ounce of romance between you and his younger brother. Ran almost felt sorry for asking. 

“I didn’t lock it because I am here and Ran was coming too.” The tone of his voice is flat like he is explaining the most obvious thing in the world to a two year old. You raise your eyebrows at him and grin, handing Rindou a disk with different kobachis on top of it. It has pickles, onions, and sauces. 

“First of all, he could perfectly open it even with it being locked. Secondly, do you always cook so much or is it just because we are here?” 

He wants to say something else, but Rindou is quick to interrupt him. “Nah. She’s always like this. She just likes cooking.” You nod at this because it’s true. You do like cooking. Very much. “She also likes drawing. And reading. And flowers.” 

These all are true too and you are amazed that Rindou is quick to tell all of your interests. It’s either you are blant or he is very observant and caring. 

Unlike his younger brother, Ran doesn’t wander off around your apartment. He stays at your side at all times quietly observing you. The truth is in the small details and that’s why he doesn’t take his eyes off you, noticing every single little one. Those that stood out and those that were well hidden. His act is impulsive and he is not very well aware of it. Rindou is and he thinks that this is why he wanted to keep you off his world.  To Rindou it’s like his brother is tainting you. 

At the table they sit across from you. By this time it’s mostly you and Ran speaking. He properly introduces himself and you do the same. Even if there’s no need for you too because Ran is not hiding that he heard about you before. Still it’s a polite thing to do. So you tell him your name, your age and that you came from Obihiro to Tokyo to study law. He jokes that he is good at breaking the law and you both laugh while Rindou rolls his eyes. 

“Did you paint it?” Ran asks, showing the picture behind you. It’s an oil painting of Kyoto Temple. There is a lot of green from the trees in front, but even with that the painting looks solemn. Grey stormy skies and dark facade of the temple carry something ominous in it. 

“No. My late grandma painted it. I don’t use oil paints. I actually never got to work with them so I don’t know how to control them. I am more into dry materials. And I’ve never been to Kyoto.” 

“Like pencils?” Ran is on his second portion of rice with spam. It’s delicious and though he is not a big on eating like Rindou, he can’t stop himself. Everything you cooked melts on his tongue. “I wanna see your drawings.” 

“Yeah. Like pencils, pastels, charcoal. Something like that.” 

“Since when do you know anything about art?” Asks Rindou. He puts his chopsticks aside and steals onigiri. You assume he took the tuna one, but you can’t be sure because when you were arranging them, Rindou volunteered to help, then mixed up the plates and put everything together. A total mess. 

Ran shakes his head as if he is laughing. No sound comes out of his mouth though. He turns to his brother, eyeing him. “I don’t know anything. But! I like fashion and contrary to you Rin I have this natural feeling for…” He stops talking and carefully chooses his next words. “For beautiful things.” 

Rindou groans in frustration and covers his face with his hands. Ran laughs. For real this time. His laugh is elegant and light. You can’t decide if it suits him or not. Ran is like a closed book. You can’t read him and you have no idea what is going on inside of his brain. He doesn’t seem like a dangerous person to you and despite knowing that in fact he is pretty much dangerous you have this feeling - call it a premonition - that he won’t ever hurt you. Nonetheless his closeness bothers you. Not to the extent of keeping you on your toes, of course. But still, it’s not the most pleasant thing. 

While they bicker you slip out of the table and go to your bedroom. There you grab your recent sketchbook and some older ones. You also bring out the last canvas you’ve done. On it is a half-way finished forest with a shrine. The only coloured part of this drawing is a forest. Everything else is still a sketch. You think you might return to it today. If you aren’t that tired, that’s all. 

In the living room Ran polishes off what seems to be another portion of fried rice and spam. Rindou didn’t lie when he said his brother was hungry. They both raise their eyes at you when you enter the room. Munching on the food, Ran is quick to stand up and offer you some help. This is a mere polite gesture from him. Few sketchbooks and a canvas aren’t that heavy. You and him both know that. 

And so does Rindou. 

He also knows his brother well enough to understand that this action was spontaneous. Something Ran wasn’t really expecting of himself either. 

It’s already past ten when Ran finishes looking through your works. He doesn’t compliment them or actually say anything at all. His long fingers skip page after page going through months worth of drawings. When something catches his attention he rests his sleepy eyes on it and studies it for some minutes. Besides furrowing his eyebrows and biting his lower lip, Ran's face remains impassive. Once again you can’t even imagine what goes on inside of him. 

Does he like your art or not? Anxiety crawls inside of you. 

“When I am rich enough, like a multimillionaire kinda rich, I’ll buy every single one of your art.” Ran says it without raising his eyes at you so he doesn’t catch how you nervously swallow, your throat doing a bulb motion, fingers locked. Instantly after his word the tension evaporates from your body. Why were you so jittery? Opinions of other people rarely touch you in an important way. Let alone about your art. “What is this drawing about?” 

Between his thumb and an index finger is your latest sketch. The one you started today. You tilt your head so you can see it better. As if trying to see it through his eyes. [You obviously fail at it.] You take a deep breath before explanation pours from your lips - or your heart. Rindou next to Ran stiffens. He is too interested in this particular sketch. For a different reason than Ran. “When I was returning home yesterday I took the train and I saw this view outside. The train was going slow so I could take a mental picture and I just liked it, I guess. You know, all those lights and side streets, stars. Looked quite memorable.” 

He hums presumably agreeing and positions the sketchbook with the drawing on the table, leaning it against your glass full of grape soda. Then, Ran puts his elbows on his knees and props his chin on his intertwined fingers; they look like a bridge. He observes the drawing delicately before he sighs and turns his head to you. “It reminds me of something, but I can’t tell what it is. Can I have it?” 

It’s out of character for him to ask permission when the whole evening he was doing what he wanted and giving dismissive orders. 

“It’s not done yet, but when I finish I’ll give it to you.” 

“Wait a damn second. Why did you never offer me some of your drawings? I want the one with cats.” Rindou is quick to reach out for the old sketchbook of yours. He gives the impression to have memorised their insides by heart as almost immediately he finds what he was looking for. It’s an A4 vertically turned sketch of various cats in the grass. He angles it and pokes at it. “This one.” 

“I never offered because you didn’t ask.” You laugh. “You can have it, Rindou. Do you want me to give you a frame for it? I think I have one just in the right size.” 

The rest of the evening goes steady and slowly. You cut out the ‘cats sketch’ out of the sketchbook and frame it; indeed you have a frame that fits like a glove. Or does the sketch fit the frame? You have no clue. It doesn’t really matter when for the first time you feel so calm and at peace. 

None of you mention yesterday’s event. 

None of the boys eye your peeking through your spaghetti strap tank top bruise. Neither of them addresses your slightly discoloured face and an evident rip of the skin under your nose. 

They go home at two in the morning. 

You give them remaining onigiri for breakfast. 

part 21. 

You sit on your sofa, legs prompt under you, pencil in hands when you hear the doorbell ring. It’s dark outside, even though it’s barely five in the evening. Winter is almost here. And day by day it gets colder and colder.

Apparently, the chill air eats the daylight away. The allegory appears funny to you. 

Today you missed the classes and declined the invitation of your best friend to go on a double date with her brother to Hamarikyu Gardens. You said you might have caught a cold yesterday on your way home. You haven’t told her about the assault and you don’t think you will. 

Nothing really bad happened and she would worry in vain. Right or wrong, it is what you believe in the moment. So you keep your mouth sealed tight. 

The bell rings the second time. Impatiently. You sense that if you won’t open the door immediately the person on the other side of it would break in regardless. Groaning, you stand up from the sofa and pad to the entrance. Pencil and sketchbook forgotten on the floor. 

It’s Ran. When you open the door without asking who it is on the other side you see him, wearing a light coat over a green sweater and black jeans. His outfit looks expensive and well composed. In his hands he holds two paper bags. Those are from the nearest supermarket. He grins when he sees you. 

“Do you know how to cook tonkatsu?” 

“Did you buy eggs?” 

“Yes. Pork, eggs, flour, cabbage, some sauces…” He lowers his eyes down and peeks inside the bags. “Oh! Sangaria Hajikete for you. Mushrooms too. Green onion. I think I forgot noodles.” 

“I have noodles and rice at home. Come on in.” 

He grins again when you invite him inside your apartment and you can’t help it, but smile back. He hangs his coat near your jacket, takes off his sneakers and follows you to the kitchen where he places bags on the countertop. You help him take out groceries noticing midway how relaxed he is. The confidence might run in Haitani’s genes because Rindou is exactly the same.

As if reading your mind - you can’t be sure he doesn’t possess such power - he informs you on Rindou’s whereabouts. “Rin is with Kaku at the gym. You know those guys that would rather live at the gym than at their house? Those are them.” 

“Rindou told me he likes exercising. I mean at least it’s healthy, right?” You take the meat out of the container and rinse it in the sink. From the corner of your eyes you see Ran reaching out for the plate where you could put the meat later. Somehow it didn’t cross your mind. “Thank you. And what do you like to do in your free time?” 

“Sleeping. Napping. Shopping.” He helps you lay the meat by bringing the plate closer to you. “And barging into apartments and making girls cook for me.” 

“Funny.” You do actually find it funny. Not as a poor joke itself, but rather as a lame excuse for flirting. If he even considers it flirting. “Okay, now while I'm doing the meat would you take over chopping vegetables? It's not hard at all.”

“Do I look like a person who can’t cut vegetables?” 

He raises his eyebrows at you and for the first time you notice their colour. Blonde. You almost ask him about why he decided to dye his hair half-half, but hold yourself back. Even if he welcomed himself into your house, even if he is acting as if you know each other for a long time and even if he is Rindou’s brother, you can’t just ask him whatever you want. 

Ran, of course, thinks otherwise.  

He thinks the silence you keep is because of his eye colour. 

“They are amethyst like. Rindou’s are more on the lavender side.” 

“What? 

“Why were you staring at me?” 

“Your eyebrows are blonde. I was thinking you would look good with blonde hair.” 

His eyes go wide and then he grins for the third time this day around you. Ran shakes his head in amusement and fishes out of the drawer long silver knife. He checks it with his finger to see if it’s sharp enough. He takes his time to choose the right knife. One might think he has an opinion on them. You give him the cutting board. He probably knew where they were stored too. You are not worried about it. He might have memorised everything from yesterday. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever go fully blonde again.” He confesses after some time. You turn to him waiting for what he has to say. Ran’s full focus is on cutting green onions - you must admit he does it easily, every chop is neat and of the same size - when he resumes. “When I killed that guy my hair was blonde and long. They shaved everything off at juvy. I hated it. Gladly my hair grows out fast.” 

There’s almost nothing to say without probing further on this unsettling topic. Rindou told you about it just once and then you’ve never returned to it. There was no need and it was evident that Rindou didn’t like to talk about it. Nor did he particularly speak a lot about their days at juvy. Everything was brief. But one thing you remember clearly. Rindou said they killed them when Ran said that he did it. 

Despite your attempt to remain neutral you frown. 

“Rindou told you we did it together, didn’t he? He always presents it like we did it together, but in fact it was me. I knocked out the captain with one blow and then I killed the vice. You couldn’t recognize his face. It was Rin who told me to stop. All he did was just hold him down and maybe dislocate one or two joints. Rin is hella strong.” 

“Yeah he likes to prove it all the time. Opening all jars, bottles. You know.”

In fact, Rindou is a caring person and he does all of this not to validate himself, but to help. Nonetheless, the warmth spreads in his chest everytime you tease him that he likes to appear strong. 

But today it’s not about Rindou. It’s about Ran and so he asks the obvious. “Aren’t you scared of me?” 

“No. Why would I?” You bring out three small bowls and fill them with flour, eggs and breadcrumbs. Thoughtful Ran brought them made so you didn’t need to crumb the bread. “And my point still stands. I think you’d look good with blonde hair.” 

She’s unbelievable, he thinks, and the feeling he had the night before only intensifies. This small premonition of love haunts him, but try all he wants, he can’t shake it off. It’s already made a nest inside of him. Like a little lost bird who neglects his lame excuse of a heart.  

“I have old pictures. I’ll show them to you.” 

“Sounds good. Now grate the cabbage. I’ll deal with the meat.” 

He only hums in response. 

In thirty minutes everything is ready. Ran is more helpful in the kitchen than Rindou, who leaves you alone and spreads on the couch going through your manga or book, is. It might be because Ran is older and he needed to take care of his younger brother all this time. It’s unknown since when they started to live on their own and where their parents are and if they had them in their lives at all. Rindou had never breached the topic so naturally you thought that he avoided it. Those memories got to be the most painful ones. 

You set the table alone. It’s a monotonous task. Bring the cutlery, plates, place all the food and glasses. Nothing too difficult. It bores you a bit. From the living room you can hear Ran speaking on the phone with Rindou. He told you he’d give him a call to tell him everything is ready. His voice is muffled and you have no desire to eavesdrop on them. Privacy is privacy even inside your apartment. 

The steam coming off tonkatsu makes it appear all the more delicious. You contemplate stealing a piece to try if it’s as tasty as it looks, but assume it will ruin the whole composition of nicely laid out meat you spent a good ten minutes arranging. Shredded cabbage seems fresh and savoury too. You wonder if you are just too hungry or it’s been ages since you’ve had tonkatsu and that’s why it looks so delicious.

You are glad Ran stopped by. 

“You know how I wanna name this sketch?” He stands at the entrance of the kitchen - a place where the living room and small dinery are connected; a safe-zone - holding the sketchbook you left on the floor when he rang the doorbell. “Koi no yokan.” 

“A premonition of love?” 

All of a sudden it seems fitting. The best name anyone could think of. Honest and raw. Just like your sketch. Just like you. Just like Ran. In front of each other without embellishments. 

“Yeah.” He nods, coming closer with a sketchbook still in his hands. His eyes widened in surprise as if he wasn’t preparing dinner with you. “It smells too good. Let’s eat. Rin said he will be late. They just started on the second set of whatever the name of that machine was.” 

At the dinner table you sit in front of each other and just like yesterday Ran devours everything he lays his eyes upon. You both chat freely and effortlessly. It’s you who does most of the speaking and he who asks all the questions. Ran learns a lot about you. He discovers he loves it even.  

At last, he asks. “Do you wanna know what happened to those guys?” 

“No, but thank you. You didn’t need to do that, but yet you still did.” 

“Sanzu was with me.” 

“Who?” 

“Nevermind. Maybe I’ll introduce you one day. Do you like burgers? We could make some tomorrow. What time will you be at home?” 

“I am not planning to go anywhere. So anytime. And yes I love burgers.” 

He winks at you. “Noted. I’ll bring everything you don’t need to buy anything.” 

Smile graces your face and you take a sip of grape soda he bought just for you. 

It tastes more delicious than ever. You can’t help, but wonder why. 

part 22. 

Of course, the very next day Ran is at your door again. As promised.

He carries grocery bags and behind his rather broad shoulders, you can see Rindou’s blond hair pulled up in a messy bun peeking at you. Ran grins, pushing forward as he welcomes himself in your apartment. Rindou rolls his eyes, fascinated at both - how cosy and comfortable Ran is with you just after your second meeting and how cosy and comfortable you are with him. 

But then, there’s nothing too unanticipated. Ran’s charisma and charms are well-known all over Tokyo. He is very handsome too which only ever worked in his favour. And, more importantly in Rindou’s opinion, Ran’s is not gloomy. If anything, his usual expression is a beautiful mixture of melancholy and sadness that seems to make every girl fawn over Ran. 

Not that Rindou ever had any problems with girls. He is Haitani after all. They will always remain popular. 

What you don’t know and haven't seen yet is that Ran is an absolutely vicious person. He can be cruel without limits. A lot of times, in fights, it’s Rindou who stops him. He believes - and rightfully so - he is the only one who can. Once raged and challenged Ran doesn’t know the limits. 

Not that Rindou is any better. 

They just maintain control over each other like brothers should. 

After burgers, comes mentaiko pasta and after it ramen and then gyoza - which Ran surprisingly can seal very well and Rindou once again for the thousand-ish times in his life feels lesser than his almighty older brother is - then some other western dish and then it’s just an insanely delicious food carousel neither of you can remember. 

Once Ran brought some old photographs he had. Looking at them Rindou had a vague disorienting ache that transmitted that he was looking at strangers. There were their old friends. Them before juvie. Other people and the same places in Roppongi that now were again theirs. All his life everything Rindou was dreaming was to be like Ran and then own Roppongi, a place they called home. But as Ran passes pictures to you, explaining what is forever imprinted on them and who all those people are [some of them are dead despite being so young; and now they’ll forever remain so] Rindou feels sudden abruption of everything he holds dear to him.  

Was it all really worth it? Does he like what he does? Aren’t all his goals and envisions for the future of those small bulky boy in the picture, but not him as of now? Would he always follow Ran? 

Yes. Yes. No. Yes.  

He chants as a mantra.

One day, late at night, after another delicious dinner at your place, Rindou is sprawling on the sofa when Ran wrapped in a towel shows up from the bathroom. They look at each other and the excruciating thoughts going on inside Rindou’s head are so evident they appear to Ran like neon signs. Bleeding. Ran loves his little brother so he asks first knowing that Rindou would never dare to approach the topic first. At least not today. “What?” 

“What do you mean what?” Fends off Rindou sitting up. His glasses slide down over his nose to his lips and Ran bites down a laugh. 

His little brother. His own flesh and blood. “I know what you want to ask so ask away and stop tormenting yourself.” 

“What is the point of me voicing it if you know what I wanna ask anyway?”

Ran sighs and sits opposite of him, spreading his arms on the sofa’s back and crossing his legs. He rests his head on one of his arms, tilting it at an awkward angle that just looking at him makes you feel uncomfortable. “Because I want to hear it from you.” 

“Can you promise me not to do anything with her?” 

Who is her goes without saying. It’s you. 

Before answering Ran shrugs, licking his insanely perfect white teeth and tilting his head backwards, he closes his eyes, sighing. “Why?” 

“Because we don’t have a lot of trust-worthy nice people around us, Ran. I don’t want to end up choosing between you and her, because the choice is fucking obvious. Let’s keep it friendly coded.” Rindou sounds desperate. His words are crude and raw and honest. He calls out to his brother, already knowing, that whatever plea he invokes it’s lost in the vast void of Ran’s feelings. Rindou is confused, but he wouldn't be who he is today, if not for his ability to stand his ground. So he takes a deep breath and continues. “Listen, Ran, do you think it’s safe to date? Like we are not what we were before when it was just fucking around and punching randoms outside. Tenjuku is serious. Izana is fucking serious. Shion is a mad fucking dog and Kanji is crazy. Sanzu is only behaving when he sniffs a line. Out of them only Kaku and Koko are the only…” 

“Rin.” Ran raises a hand to stop his brother. He sits straight and for a very long time looks at Rindou without saying anything. He searches for the right words and then his mind is going blank because all he knows is that there’s something rotten inside of you. And Ran wants to carve it out. He saw it the first time you two met face to face the night you were assaulted. From that day all he wants is to tug at your insides, clean what hides behind your ribs, reach your soul and make it his. Make you pure and perfect again. He has no idea how to communicate all of this to Rindou so he says the most blatant shit neither of them believes, but they both eat it up anyway. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything. And most definitely I wasn’t planning on dating her or anybody else.” 

“Good.” Rindou purses his lips and his face loses all its colour. His tan is not helping him a bit. “Thank you.” 

They sit not moving or speaking for a little bit, settling in a comfortable usual silence. Ran looks at the table in front of him and Rindou stares at the huge floor to ceiling window. He can’t see shit from his place. Just a bit of neon lights and the building across. Better than nothing. Those simple things keep his mind occupied until he hears Ran standing up. He turns his head in his direction and catches a towel slipping down Ran’s hips. Rindou screams. 

“Why. Is. This. Shit. Always happening to you? Are you doing it on purpose?”

“Why are you always reacting like you’ve never seen it? We go to sento every other week.” 

“Doesn’t mean I wanna see your dick! It was a fucking jumpscare!” 

Ran grins. “Big and scary?” 

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Go put some clothes on.” 

The atmosphere shifts and suddenly everything is back to normal. 

They both love each other very much. 

part 23. 

The desire not to let his world incorporate you fails. The fall is sudden, not expected at all and Rindou thinks it was him who jinxed you all, because once you get obsessed with something - in both ways, negative and positive - it will for sure crawl its way into your life. 

That’s why when Ran points at your back asking Rindou if his eyes are not lying to him and it’s really you, he is not surprised. Perhaps he was even expecting something like this to happen. Just not so soon. 

It’s the middle of December. The weather is so cold and windy you feel it in your bones. At least it’s not snowing and roads are walkable. Not that Rindou or Ran walked. They both arrived in Ran’s new Honda NSX-R he bought second-hand not long ago. Though he never cared for cars, his white slick Honda became his obsession. He doted on it more than he ever had on any other thing. Besides Rindo, that’s it. 

The small, but still spacious club in Roppongi is full with people. Loud music hits every wall and then gets back to the middle of the dance floor, shaking everything that gets in the way. The floor is constantly vibrating and the smell of alcohol is so sharp it intoxicates even those who aren’t drinking, boosting the wild environment. People dance and drink, most of them being underaged, but because they are part of one or the other gang, they are in. 

You are not the one to complain though. You got in only because of your best friend’s brother. 

From where they stand - a VIP zone - Rindou can’t really see if it’s you, but his gut feeling tells him yes. He knows for a fact that you were supposed to go out today and now he regrets he didn’t ask for details. Maybe somehow he would've talked you out of it or not show up himself. Half of the Tenjiku are here and what is the worst of all S-62 generation too. Except for Izana, but he was never big on clubs or parties. 

Would it be too impolite to not greet you? Would you even notice that? Have you noticed them at all?  Neither of them can say. Communicating only with their eyes, Ran urges his brother to follow him. He is both intrigued at what are you doing at famously delinquents only club - not that ordinary normal people are never here - and why are you doing chatting up Toman members. So he pushes forward to you through the crowd. Rindou is closely behind him. 

When they approached your group, the smile from everybody’s faces vanished. Haitani brothers are never good news. It seems everybody knows that, but you, because you grin and a bit tipsy you give your hand out to Ran. He laughs, his laugh is velvety as usual, and shakes your hand for longer than needed.  Now everyone's eyes are on you. 

“I didn’t know you would be here!” You say surprised, clearly happy to see him. Much to his delight and your friends' confusion. “Is Rindou here too?” 

“Yeah, of course he is. I saw you from there.” Ran slightly turns his body and shows you where he and Rindou have been up most of the night. You listen to him attentively, focusing really hard on what he says and lean a bit closer when you can’t hear him. “... decided to say hi. For how long are you gonna stay here?” 

The answer is lost on your tongue because Rindou, clearly pissed, shows up right in front of you. His cheeks are slightly pink. It might be from alcohol or from the heat of enclosed space with so many people in it. That you too can feel. 

Rindou waves at you and glares at Ran. You laugh at their interaction. You’ve never been out with them both before rather than at your convenience store near the house and seeing them behave exactly like you are used to when they are at your place or you are at theirs is pretty relaxing. 

“Those are my friends. My best friend is here and this is her brother.” You introduce your company having no idea that they already know each other. “And this is Ran and Rindou. We are neighbours and really good friends.” 

Neither of them shake hands or smile at each other. The tension that fills the air is tangible. It’s slicky and warm. You want it gone. Puzzled you look from Ran to your best friend’s brother and then to your best friend who shrugs her shoulders. Lastly you look at Rindou whose eyes are not angry anymore, but sorrowful. You frown and step closer to him, wanting to ask what’s going on, but Ran speaks first. 

“It was nice to meet you. You all have fun.” 

With that he waves at you and disappears into the crowd. Rindou, not saying a word, goes after him, throwing a haste look at you. 

He thinks what just happened was fucking embarassing. 

part 24. 

This club is a neutral territory - it’s in Roppongi so informally it’s controlled by the Haitani brothers - but misunderstandings still happen. 

Neither of your friends said much to you after Rindou and Ran left. Two questions asked were how did you know them and if you were close. That’s all. The party continued and the gloomy face your best friend’s brother wore for a short time dissolved under the influence of alcohol. 

You tried to search for either of the brothers scanning with your eyes the dance floor, the bar and the DJ booth. Nothing. The VIP zone was closed off and no matter at what angle you looked you couldn’t see past its dark curtains. 

Sudden encounter left you with a bitter taste. You felt like you did something wrong. Said something that you weren’t supposed to say or acted in an unexpected way that everybody hated. The cruel flavour of iron is strong in your throat. Distress doesn’t depart from you the whole evening. 

The fight that happens that night inside of the club is almost fatal. You didn’t see much of it starting, but music comes to a halt and then lights are on and it’s blinding and the shouts and sound of skin being ripped and crushing bones are speaking for themselves. Some people rush out of the doors which causes a massive panic. Somebody is calling the police and then when this fact is made public the panic intensifies. 

You freeze clutching your best friend’s hand. She hurriedly speaks to her brother, nodding her head when he responds. There’re  shouts from everywhere and people are rushing by you to the exit. Everything and everyone falls to silence when a guy jumps off the stairs to where the fight is happening - in the middle of the dance floor. He is around the same height as Ran and might be the same age or close. What catches your eyes is his tattoo. It goes all the way from his temple to his neck. The V-neck sweater he wears is perhaps on purpose so everyone can see it. Just as the shaved left side of his head. 

“It’s Shion Madarame, one of the Heavenly Kings.” Now that it’s so silent you can hear your best friend’s brother whispering it. “We need to get out. It’s gonna get really violent.” 

That is when you notice that the entrance is blocked. Nobody’s moving or speaking or perhaps even breathing. Everyone’s attention is on Shion. 

“Whatcha you guys think you were fucking doing?” He spits at the floor before pulling out metal brass knuckles. He puts it on his right hand almost teasingly. So lazily, his every move seems to be captured in slow motion. He laughs when he raises his head and sees pure animalistic fear spreading on the faces before him. Adrenaline is kicking high. 

Those two guys that started the fight are no longer opponents. They might even forget what they were fighting about. 

When Shion without any warning lands a fist to the first guy's chest, the poor creature flies to the wall behind him hitting people standing there. This guy is taller and more muscular than Shion, but still he doesn’t fight back even when Shion straddles him and punches his face. Nobody really does anything. They all watch and watch and watch. Violent smell of blood evaporates every other.

Somebody cries. 

The fight - which in all honesty is not a fight at all, but a massacre since no one stops it or intervenes and neither of the boys show any resistance - turns into killing. From where you stand you can’t see the details and now you wonder what those two unlucky boys looked like. You can’t tell and probably none will in two months or so; the damage Shion has done to their face is beyond recognition. 

You spot Rindou sitting on the stairs. Ran stands next to him twirling the baton in his hands. He is talking to some guy you see for the first time. They all are unbothered by what’s going on beneath them. Rindou is the only one who intently observes every move of Shion. But it doesn’t seem like he is regretful or anything like that. He scrutinises every move with a purpose of remembering it so he can use it against someone else later. That much is evident. 

The guy next to Ran has a buzz cut and huge peculiar scar that you think he might have earned in some fight. Receiving it for sure hurt like hell. It doesn’t make him appear ugly though. This guy looks almost gentle. Especially when he smiles at something Ran said. You wonder what in this situation might seem funny to them, but then you have no clue what they are talking about. 

Soon, another guy with long white hair shows up on the stairs. He wears a mask and you can’t see his face, but he seems young. Younger than you. He too is obviously in a gang. Masked as he is, he shoves himself in between Ran and the guy with a scar and says something. Rindou hears it as he turns his head into their direction. 

“Shion! That’s enough. Let them be.” Ran gets down the stairs and stands behind Shion’s back who continues punching the guys as if he is not hearing Ran. Probably he is not. The excitement in his body is too much; it clouds every other feeling. “Shion! Stop! Police are on their way. Come on. It’s enough.” 

Still, nobody moves. Nobody tries to escape. The next thing you know is Ran raising his baton and the sharp sound of air sliced in two fills the club. He strikes a couple of times. That much you counted, but it got to be more, because blinded with rage Shion throws himself at Ran. 

Rindou is quick to assist his brother as well as the guy with the scar. The only one who remains on the stairs is the guy with the mask. You hear the baton working again and then Shion is screaming. Ran laughs. 

“Come to your fucking sences, Madarame.” Spits the guy with the scar and then he turns to the crowd. “What are you all still doing there? Get those two to the ER and… Shit!” 

His last words are lost in the noise of the police siren and people shouting. Whatever that paralysis was, it's now gone. Everyone is pushing and kicking again. You hold your friend’s hand for dear life. It’s easy to lose each other. 

Somebody’s hand is on your shoulder when you are halfway to the exit. You think that someone mistook you or was just grabbing you to remain on their feet. However the person tugs you at them and annoyed you look back to see who it is.

It’s Ran.

He says something and you shake your head indicating that you can’t hear him. Not with what’s going on around you. It’s a mess. He visibly sighs, his chest going up and down. He then steps forward and says something to your best friend’s brother. They exchange some words quickly and then you all are led back from where you came by Ran. 

Hand in hand he takes you through the personnel area to the emergency exit. 

Outside it’s colder now than when you came. You shiver and he looks at you. His eyes inspect every bit of you as if he wants to make sure you are okay. You are. He seems satisfied by it. 

“We all should be going. How did you come here?” He again speaks to the brother of your best friend. 

“By car.” 

“Good. Get your girl and friends and get going.” Ran turns to the left where his own car is parked in the distance. Your hand still lays in his. Without second thought you go after him. 

No one thinks of correcting him that the girl is his sister not his girlfriend. No one cares.

Police sirens are getting closer when your best friend speaks up. “Isn't she coming with us?”

Ran stops, confused, he looks at you and then at your friends as if he doesn’t understand why she is even asking that. “No. We are neighbours. I’ll take her home.” 

“Did you even ask her?” It’s your friend’s brother. There’s irritation in his voice. You’ve never heard him speak like that to anyone. 

“Are you trying to pull this Toman noble cavalry shit on me now?” You see the baton for the second time today. It has red stains on it. He stretches his hand with it pointing at your friends. “Cause I am really tired and not in the mood to…” 

“It’s okay.” You intervene by putting a hand on Ran’s wrist. “It’s okay. I don’t mind going with Ran. I trust him. You have nothing to worry about.” 

There’s another smug expression of satisfaction on Ran’s face. His body relaxes and he drops your hand. Without saying anything he lazily goes to his car, unlocking the door for you first. You get inside.   

As you pass by your friends you give them a wave and they nod at you. 

Everything seems to be okay.

part 25.

After fifteen minutes in Ran’s car you notice that he isn’t in fact taking you home. 

You were busy looking at his car, its leather interior, the busy lights of Tokyo and Ran himself. 

“I am taking us to my favourite ramen place. It’s a bit too far, but they serve the best shoyu ramen and are open 24/7. Me and Rin are regulars there.” It’s Ran who breaks the silence first. His voice is soft and he is back to being Ran you are used to hanging out with. Confident and firm, and almost a little bit gentle. 

“How is Rindou going to get home?” You ask what worries you the most. “Will he be safe?” 

“Totally. He’ll stay with Kaku. You probably saw him today. The guy with a scar?” 

“Oh. Yes.” 

“He got it in an accident when he was a kid. Kakucho is the coolest. He might seem scary, but he is very loyal and even kind.” You stop at the red light and Ran looks over at you, you who is staring at him. “Were you afraid today?” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“Were you afraid when you met those bastards in the alley?” 

“Not really.” 

“Not really?” 

“Yes.” He is clearly waiting for more explanation, because it’s not normal to not being afraid. Everyone would be afraid. You both understand as much. You sigh, crossing your hands around your chest and straighten up in the seat. You look at the road ahead when you start to explain. “My sister’s boyfriend is in the gang. They aren’t just simple motorbike gangs that are fooling around, throwing punches and you know the rest. They are full on criminals. He got my sister on drugs. She overdosed five times. He got her pregnant too. She aborted the kid. And I’ve seen him and his people doing worse than Shion did to those guys today. These all are not new for me. I’ve seen it before.” 

Ran hums. His long fingers caressing the leather of the wheel. He accelerates, rushing forward before traffic lights change. A few cars that are on the streets at this hour irritatedly honk after you. Inside the car the outside world gives the impression of decorations. Nothing seems real. You get this feeling for the second time. 

Once on the train and now again. With Ran in his car. 

“How’d you know Shion’s name?” Ran asks, his attention again on you. Whatever he was thinking shoved aside.  

“Everybody was whispering his name when he jumped on the dance floor. Are you in the same gang?” 

“You can say so.” 

“And the guy with the mask too?” 

“His name is Sanzu and yes he is in Tenjiku too.” 

“He seemed young.”  “He is sixteen. Two years younger than you and Rin so don’t brag.” 

You scoff and Ran smiles. Then he gets serious. You sense it with every pore of your body. His car is a sport type - or so you think - and there isn’t much space. It’s comfortable though. You aren’t feeling confined or trapped. But that must be just Ran. His mood is transmitted well enough. That too, however, must be just Ran.

“I might come off as a hypocrite, but they are toxic to each other. I don’t know how it’s in Obihiro, but here in Tokyo every other guy in a gang I know, treats his woman well if they have one. Those who aren't, they don’t have a girl. Shion for once. He fucks around, but nothing serious. Girls who are with him know they aren’t forever. Are they still together? Your sis and that guy. What position does he hold in the gang?” 

“They are or at least they were when I left. She doesn’t speak about him much, because I hate him and throw my hands at him every time he is in my way.” You stop, suddenly remembering how once you slapped him in the face in front of everyone in your school. He didn’t lay a hand on you, said some stupid shit about how fierce you are, hopped you sister on his Kawasaki and left. You were small and that’s why you believe he didn’t hit you. You weren’t sure he wouldn’t now, but maybe you just never knew him at all. You roll your head on the headrest and look at Ran. “He is some kind of executive or so I heard. I have zero clue about hierarchy and how it goes in the gangs. What position do you and Rindou hold?” 

“I am one of the four Heavenly Kings and Rin is my second-in-command. Kakucho and Shion are the other two and then we have Mochizuku, but you haven’t seen him yet.”  

Yet. 

Ran parks the car outside of the small shop. You have no idea where you both are. You’ve never been to this part of Tokyo. It’s very peaceful here. There are no people outside and the buildings around show no sign of their inhabitants being awake at this late hour. In front of the shop, just a couple of metres away you spot a middle aged man with bright red tenugui tied around his head. The man is smoking sitting on his hunches. When he sees Ran’s car he smiles wide and stands up, waving his cigarette at him. 

The conversation is lost and you are somewhat happy about it. Discussing Tenjiku with Ran, you crossed the line Rindou so carefully built and guarded. It almost feels like a betrayal of some sort. You still were much closer to Rindou than to Ran. Wouldn’t it be more right to discuss all these with him and not Ran? 

Whatever is right or wrong doesn’t matter anymore. You all don’t belong in the world where it does. 

Inside the ramen shop it’s warm and the smell of broth fills your nose helping you realise how hungry you really are. What alcohol you had at the club is out of your system, but the after starvation it always brings is here. You wonder how amazingly our bodies work and how it can sober up and get rid of any influence when a dangerous situation is inflicted upon it. Amusing. 

The man happily chats with Ran and you follow them both to the distant booth in the back of the room. It’s closed off and has a curtain for privacy. Another VIP zone. 

“You sit here. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

With that you are left alone. Not for long. After a couple of minutes Ran returns with a menu, a bottle of sparkling water and a grape soda. He puts soda and a menu with a pencil in front of you and sits on the red and brown leather couch opposite you. The menu is one of those where you need to check what and how you want your food to be done. You take a pencil in your hand and read, your eyes following different variations of ramen they have here. 

“Order tonkotsu ramen. You’ll like it.” Recommends Ran. He opens the bottle of water and takes a very long sip. “Even the water here is god-like.” 

“Isn’t it Suntory?” 

“It is, but it’s more delicious here. Wait until you try their ramen and you'll understand what I am saying.” 

Naturally, when ramen arrives and you make a first sip of the broth, Ran is looking at you expectantly. You try noodles, pork belly, onions and enoki mushrooms - you put those additionally because when you came upon them in the menu you suddenly realised you were craving them - on its own. And then you try everything together. The taste is rich. It is delicious. 

You look at Ran and nod your head, smiling. 

“Told you. The best ramen in Tokyo. It’s sad they do not make Mont Blanc here. The Mont Blanc I like is in another part of Tokyo.” He pouts. 

“We can try to make it at home if you want.” 

���Really? You can make Mont Blanc at home?” 

“Ran, you can make anything at home. Like literally anything.” 

He grins at you thinking he might marry you right here on the spot. 

He doesn’t say it out loud. Instead he closes the curtain and indulges in his shoyu ramen. And your company. 

part 26. 

On the 24th of December you leave for Obihiro. Your parents are excited you are coming and for once they seem like a proper family when you call them beforehand to inform what time you’ll arrive home.

Rindou is the one to take you to the bus station.  “You shouldn’t have made all this food for us.” He tells you when you sit on the bench near your bus. Your small luggage at your feet. “And you went out and made this insane dessert for Ran. He is totally not worth it.” 

You laugh, but your laugh is sad. You don’t wanna leave. “I made twelve of those. Each day I’ll be missing. And I made all this food so it won’t smell like salt and vinegar chips on our balcony. You gotta eat normally, Rindou. And I also left gifts for you two.” 

His eyes widen. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “You are way too kind to us. Do you know when was the last time someone gifted us something? Never. You shouldn’t have.” 

“It’s in the small bag. I wrote your names on top of it. Shoot me a message if you like it.” 

The lady on the speaker announces boarding for your bus. You stand up, take your small bag and together with Rindou you stand near the door not ready to say goodbye just yet. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and whatever he wants to say stays imprisoned inside of him. [Forever].   You hug him and he hugs you back. 

Without saying another word to each other you get inside the bus. 

He doesn’t leave until your bus is out of sight. 

part 27. 

You celebrate New Year with your parents and your sister in the warm family house in Obihiro. You all exchange gifts, watch fireworks and take a lot of pictures. Your absences united your family the way your presence never could. 

After the dinner, you and your sister go to visit the shrine as you do every year when your phone beeps. 

It’s a message from Ran. 

my favourite place to eat mont blanc is now your place. can't wait for it to be open again. 

haha. i’d say you are cute if i didn’t know you. 

i think i am pretty much cute and handsome

btw i like the drawing you did of me 

rin is so jealous 

tell him he should take me out somewhere and if the atmosphere is right i’ll draw him too

can i message you later? me and my sister are visiting the shrine

i won’t tell him that

ofc. be safe. happy new year. 

happy new year ran 

Rindou calls you later. He says you shouldn’t listen to Ran and he liked his sweater all right. He says he bought you something too, but no matter how much you begged him to say what it is he wouldn’t tell you. You promise to message him the time you arrive so he’ll pick you up and then he hangs up. 

You miss them too. 

[Ran messages you exactly fifteen minutes after Rindou’s call. You are still at the shrine and your sister isn’t happy you are on you phone again, but you still reply to him. Every time he messages you do.] 

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