caleb always knew he was rotten. his soul is tainted, sick and twisted - selfishly he shoves the lamb's meat into his mouth until his sins weighed less heavy on his shoulders. he knew it was unholy, the way he dropped to his knees in front of her and licked and sucked on her pussy, indulged in it so deeply that her juices left a slick layer on his cheeks and mouth. but oh, how it felt divine - the taste of her wetness like wine on his tongue he got drunk off. his tongue plunged into her depths and she threw her head back in pleasure, a sweet whine escaped her and he swore she must be an angel. if he wouldn't be so far gone in his worship of her, he might've felt guilty touching someone as pure as her with his dirty hands. her thighs starting shaking as he sucked on her pulsing clit and he didn't care anymore - so he was fucked up, so he was repulsive - but he can give her everything she wants. the holy water ran down his throat like a blessing as he greedily gulped down all she gave him. he didn't care if he had to reside in hell forever, this taste of heaven is more than enough for his soul.
as she came apart on his lips he pressed kisses to her pussy and thighs, she looked down to him with those hazy eyes and there it was, salvation.
you watched the raindrops race along the window with utmost attention, as if you knew that if you turned around now, the sight of his apartment would make your stomach churn harshly enough to make you sick. you didn't even notice caleb leave in the morning and he hasn't returned yet - it's 10:34pm, you've been checking every few minutes. (why? you didn't know. maybe you've been waiting for a message. anything.)
it's too quiet and... cold. his apartment barely felt lived in, the walls taunted your pathetic isolation. as much as you wanted to hate him for robbing you of your freedom, you truly wanted nothing more than close your eyes and sink into his all-devouring embrace. right now, it felt like caleb was all you had left. with every passing, lonely second, the way he changed mattered less and less - realizing this should've made your throat tighten, should've disgusted you with how easily you break.
you heard the door open and every fiber of your being bloomed with invitation.
"caleb?" you asked. standing up, you walked over to his hallway and your legs felt heavier with every step that took you closer to him. his back was turned to you, but the sight made goosebumps rise on your skin.
that damn uniform.
the first time you saw him in it, you barely recognized him at all. it's so foreign, as if the pieces of cloth took your caleb away from you, ripped him from your comforting childhood memories and replaced him with someone you didn't know.
he turned to you. "hey, pips." it wasn't the same. he patted your head.
you followed him as he made his way to the living room, watched as he placed his hat on the table. "did you eat?"
"take it off." you glared at him and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. he looked down his body. "take what off?"
"that shitty uniform." you said, stepping closer to him. you noticed how neatly he wore it, how it made him look sharper, intimidating - something that wasn't him.
he glanced at you for a second, before looking away almost shamefully. there was a complicated silence in the air. he knew it was hard for you to digest what he has become, something he knew he always was.
caleb's hand lifted and he started undoing the buttons of the uniform, once he was done with the top layer, he let it fall down and it pooled at his feet. you locked eyes, the energy shifted to something intense. "continue." you told him.
watching as his adam's apple bobbed, he moved on to the tie and loosend it with his fingers, dropping it as well.
he looked at you, "what is it you want, (y/n)?" there was a hunger in your eyes he knew. it took him back to the attic of your house, the memory was so vivid he could feel the sticky, dusty air from when you first become one. his fingers twitched with the want of touching your skin again, the want of being whole again.
"I want you."
he looked at you with a darkened gaze, his plum colored eyes like a storm-lit sky. lips pressed into a thin line, he lets his resolve go as he saw your closed eyes, the way you trusted him completely. with a strong grip, he cradled the softness of your waist and lifted you on to the table with a hand under your thigh. you could hear him undoing his belt, while you pushed down your pajama pants and panties. with your lower lip caught between your teeth, you watched as he undressed further. caleb dropped his head onto your shoulder as he wrapped his hand around his hardness. with a low breath he asked - "you sure?"
"yes," you replied, "please."
he pressed his cock to your clit and felt goosebumps rise on his skin as he heard you gasp. quickly, caleb gathered the wetness along your warmth and breathed out with bliss as he teased your hole. "you're so wet f'me..." he whispered into your ear, you could feel his hot breath against your neck. with a press of his lips against yours, he pushed inside you slowly. his tongue entered your mouth and you could feel your mind melt into mush, his dick filled you more and more. an indescribable euphoria exploded in your lower stomach and took over your whole body, waves of pleasure come crashing down on you. lifting your legs, you wrapped them around him to press him closer. hearing him moan at the feeling of being so deep in you was something you thought you'd never get to witness again, and it made something akin to pride swell in you momentarily. he took over all your senses, all you could smell, hear, see, feel was him. he stayed like this for a bit, shaking because of the intensity of the situation. with a groan, he pulled out slowly and pushed into you almost experimentally, as if he was testing the waters. "fuck me like you mean it, please." you begged, pressing your forehead against his, looking down to see how he disappeared in you.
"you're going to be the death of me." he rasped out, before bringing both his hands to your waist and grabbing them in a way that'll surely leave bruises. "as you wish."
he started thrusting into you with neediness that made your eyes roll back into your skull, his pace was relentless and fueled with lust. the noises your pussy made as his dick dove into you again and again echoed of the walls. you wrapped your arms around him and kissed and bit at his neck as if you were in a haze, there was nothing that anchored you to reality, your body was exploding with pleasure that made you see white. caleb started grinding into you slowly and whispered sweet nothings to you, which you could barely make out. "you're doing so well for me baby," he pressed a kiss to your tear-stained cheek.
he picked up his pace again, pushing into you again and again, while he let go of your waist to play with your bundle of nerves. crying out, you tangled your fingers into his dark hair and pulled harshly, making him groan, his thrusts stuttered and grew sloppy. he rested his head on your shoulder and you could feel him draw infinity shapes on your clit almost desperately. an undeniable knot grew in your lower stomach, your legs began to shake and you could feel yourself growing impossibly wetter. you threw your head back with an almost pornographic moan as you were lifted into the heights of lust, caleb continued his ministrations until you were twitching and breathing heavily. he thrusted into you a couple more times before pushing his dick to the hilt and spurting his warm cum deep inside of you.
your breaths mingled for a few moments, before he pulled out and kissed you softly on the lips. watching as he picked up the dress shirt of his uniform to wipe you down, you noticed how the apartment felt less like it was caging you in. there was a warm glow emitting from everywhere. "let's cuddle up and shower later, yeah?" he smiled.
as you got comfortable on the bed, you traced random shapes onto his skin while laying on his chest. you wondered if things are always going to be complicated between caleb and you from now on, or if you'll find a way to accept him as a colonel. what if the happiness of this moment dies down and you'll finally regain your fighting spirit? thoughts jumble in your head for a bit before something emits, crystal clear:
you watched the raindrops race along the window with utmost attention, as if you knew that if you turned around now, the sight of his apartment would make your stomach churn harshly enough to make you sick. you didn't even notice caleb leave in the morning and he hasn't returned yet - it's 10:34pm, you've been checking every few minutes. (why? you didn't know. maybe you've been waiting for a message. anything.)
it's too quiet and... cold. his apartment barely felt lived in, the walls taunted your pathetic isolation. as much as you wanted to hate him for robbing you of your freedom, you truly wanted nothing more than close your eyes and sink into his all-devouring embrace. right now, it felt like caleb was all you had left. with every passing, lonely second, the way he changed mattered less and less - realizing this should've made your throat tighten, should've disgusted you with how easily you break.
you heard the door open and every fiber of your being bloomed with invitation.
"caleb?" you asked. standing up, you walked over to his hallway and your legs felt heavier with every step that took you closer to him. his back was turned to you, but the sight made goosebumps rise on your skin.
that damn uniform.
the first time you saw him in it, you barely recognized him at all. it's so foreign, as if the pieces of cloth took your caleb away from you, ripped him from your comforting childhood memories and replaced him with someone you didn't know.
he turned to you. "hey, pips." it wasn't the same. he patted your head.
you followed him as he made his way to the living room, watched as he placed his hat on the table. "did you eat?"
"take it off." you glared at him and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. he looked down his body. "take what off?"
"that shitty uniform." you said, stepping closer to him. you noticed how neatly he wore it, how it made him look sharper, intimidating - something that wasn't him.
he glanced at you for a second, before looking away almost shamefully. there was a complicated silence in the air. he knew it was hard for you to digest what he has become, something he knew he always was.
caleb's hand lifted and he started undoing the buttons of the uniform, once he was done with the top layer, he let it fall down and it pooled at his feet. you locked eyes, the energy shifted to something intense. "continue." you told him.
watching as his adam's apple bobbed, he moved on to the tie and loosend it with his fingers, dropping it as well.
he looked at you, "what is it you want, (y/n)?" there was a hunger in your eyes he knew. it took him back to the attic of your house, the memory was so vivid he could feel the sticky, dusty air from when you first become one. his fingers twitched with the want of touching your skin again, the want of being whole again.
"I want you."
he looked at you with a darkened gaze, his plum colored eyes like a storm-lit sky. lips pressed into a thin line, he lets his resolve go as he saw your closed eyes, the way you trusted him completely. with a strong grip, he cradled the softness of your waist and lifted you on to the table with a hand under your thigh. you could hear him undoing his belt, while you pushed down your pajama pants and panties. with your lower lip caught between your teeth, you watched as he undressed further. caleb dropped his head onto your shoulder as he wrapped his hand around his hardness. with a low breath he asked - "you sure?"
"yes," you replied, "please."
he pressed his cock to your clit and felt goosebumps rise on his skin as he heard you gasp. quickly, caleb gathered the wetness along your warmth and breathed out with bliss as he teased your hole. "you're so wet f'me..." he whispered into your ear, you could feel his hot breath against your neck. with a press of his lips against yours, he pushed inside you slowly. his tongue entered your mouth and you could feel your mind melt into mush, his dick filled you more and more. an indescribable euphoria exploded in your lower stomach and took over your whole body, waves of pleasure come crashing down on you. lifting your legs, you wrapped them around him to press him closer. hearing him moan at the feeling of being so deep in you was something you thought you'd never get to witness again, and it made something akin to pride swell in you momentarily. he took over all your senses, all you could smell, hear, see, feel was him. he stayed like this for a bit, shaking because of the intensity of the situation. with a groan, he pulled out slowly and pushed into you almost experimentally, as if he was testing the waters. "fuck me like you mean it, please." you begged, pressing your forehead against his, looking down to see how he disappeared in you.
"you're going to be the death of me." he rasped out, before bringing both his hands to your waist and grabbing them in a way that'll surely leave bruises. "as you wish."
he started thrusting into you with neediness that made your eyes roll back into your skull, his pace was relentless and fueled with lust. the noises your pussy made as his dick dove into you again and again echoed of the walls. you wrapped your arms around him and kissed and bit at his neck as if you were in a haze, there was nothing that anchored you to reality, your body was exploding with pleasure that made you see white. caleb started grinding into you slowly and whispered sweet nothings to you, which you could barely make out. "you're doing so well for me baby," he pressed a kiss to your tear-stained cheek.
he picked up his pace again, pushing into you again and again, while he let go of your waist to play with your bundle of nerves. crying out, you tangled your fingers into his dark hair and pulled harshly, making him groan, his thrusts stuttered and grew sloppy. he rested his head on your shoulder and you could feel him draw infinity shapes on your clit almost desperately. an undeniable knot grew in your lower stomach, your legs began to shake and you could feel yourself growing impossibly wetter. you threw your head back with an almost pornographic moan as you were lifted into the heights of lust, caleb continued his ministrations until you were twitching and breathing heavily. he thrusted into you a couple more times before pushing his dick to the hilt and spurting his warm cum deep inside of you.
your breaths mingled for a few moments, before he pulled out and kissed you softly on the lips. watching as he picked up the dress shirt of his uniform to wipe you down, you noticed how the apartment felt less like it was caging you in. there was a warm glow emitting from everywhere. "let's cuddle up and shower later, yeah?" he smiled.
as you got comfortable on the bed, you traced random shapes onto his skin while laying on his chest. you wondered if things are always going to be complicated between caleb and you from now on, or if you'll find a way to accept him as a colonel. what if the happiness of this moment dies down and you'll finally regain your fighting spirit? thoughts jumble in your head for a bit before something emits, crystal clear:
18+ SMUT!
sanemi shinazugawa x reader (w.c: 25.9k)
tags: slow burn, angst, nsfw, smut, p in v, unprotected, bratty reader, hard to get trope, fucking, raw, dog, sex lol
synopsis: you're not getting a synopsis. enjoy slow burn RN!!!
notes: i am literally obsessed w/ this story. i stayed up for 2 days writing this. oh my god. writing utensil in the hands of a jester.
the light from your phone glows soft against your face, the only thing moving in the room besides the flicker of the fight on tv. sanemiโs sprawled on the couch beside you, one arm thrown over the backrest, the other gripping a can of beer thatโs probably gone warm by now. youโve been swiping for twenty minutes straight, giggling under your breath, legs lazily draped over his lap like you own the placeโWHICH YOU DO.
โwhat about this one?โ you say, tilting your phone toward him. thereโs a picture of some guy at the beach, abs flexed like heโs auditioning for a thirst trap competition.
sanemi doesnโt even glance at it. โlooks like he moisturizes too much,โ he mutters, eyes fixed on the tv. the crowd roars; he doesnโt blink.
you hum. โso? hygieneโs important, yโknow.โ
he snorts, leans forward just enough to grab the remote and turn the volume up. โyeah, if youโre dating a goddamn commercial.โ you roll your eyes, scrolling again, pretending you donโt see the way his jawโs working. โyouโre so picky for someone whoโs single, nemi.โ
he tenses when you say his nickname, quick glance cutting your way. โnot picky. i justโโ he gestures vaguely at your phone. โdonโt get why you waste your time on idiots who look like theyโd cry if their protein shake spills.โ
you laugh, tapping the screen again. โthen who should i be wasting my time on?โ and thatโs the thing about him. he doesnโt answer. doesnโt even look at you. just takes a long swig of his beer, the muscle in his jaw ticking, the tv light flashing across his face.
โnot those assholes,โ he says finally, quiet enough that you almost miss it. you grin, stretching your legs, brushing your feet against his thigh. โso who, then?โ
he shifts, grabs the remote again. โwatch the fight,โ he says, voice low. you smirk, tilting your head. โyouโre jealous.โ his eyes flick toward youโsharp, unreadableโand then back to the tv. โin your dreams, princess.โ but his grip on the beer can is just a little too tight.
you tilt your head toward him, still swiping, voice lilting with mischief. โyou know beer isnโt good for you, right?โ he doesnโt even look away from the screen. โyeah? neitherโs wasting your time on tinder clowns, but here we are.โ
you gasp, dramatic, pressing a hand to your chest. โnemi, stop being so mean to me.โ
he grins at that, finally looking at you. that sharp, stupid grin that never quite reaches his eyes when heโs trying too hard not to show how soft he feels. โmean? thatโs rich. you been ignoring me for the last half hour to flirt with men who probably canโt spell their own names.โ
you stretch, feet nudging his thigh again, your smirk matching his. โi wasnโt flirting. justโฆ evaluating.โ โ โyeah? evaluating what? which oneโs gonna break your heart faster?โ
you roll your eyes, laughing. โyouโre insufferable.โ he leans back, one arm still slung behind you, voice dropping lower. โand you like it.โ the words hang there, heavier than he meant them to be. the crowd on tv cheers, the commentator shouting over the roar, but neither of you move.ย
you hum, soft and teasing. โmaybe i do.โ and for a second, he just stares. eyes flicking to your mouth, then back up like he regrets it instantly. he clears his throat, turns back toward the tv. โyouโre hopeless.โ
you smile into your drink, small and knowing. โguess that makes two of us.โ
you wait for the next sip of his beer before you say it. wait until heโs just started to lift the can to his lips, all distracted and grumbly and pretending not to watch the way your tank top slides down your shoulder. then you strike.
โfor the record,โ you say, casually, like youโre still talking about the weather, โi was evaluating who could break my back in bed the best.โ
his sip stops halfway. he chokes. splutters. coughs once, hard, the can thudding to the coffee table as he glares at you like you just declared war. you just grin. slow. all teeth. and wink. โyouโre not funny,โ he rasps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
โiโm hilarious,โ you hum, sinking deeper into the cushions, stretching like a cat, all long lines and lazy smugness. โbut go ahead. keep pretending it doesnโt bother you.โ
he shifts beside you, shoulders tense, jaw locked. his knee bumps yours when he adjusts, not entirely by accident. โyou think any of those guys could even handle you?โ
you glance at him. โnope. thatโs why i was hoping someone might volunteer to show me what iโm missing.โ
he stills. you watch the slow rise and fall of his chest. the way his fingers flex once against the cushion. โdonโt play with me,โ he mutters, voice like gravel and warning and something else you canโt name yet.
you smile, soft now. quieter. โwho says iโm playing?โ
and just like that, the silence between you stretches taut. no laughter. no flirting. just the slow thud of his pulse in his neck, and the way heโs finally looking at you like heโs trying to decide whether to ruin everything or say screw it and ruin you instead.
the notification pings soft between you, that little chime cutting through the low thrum of the tv. you glance down at your phone, grin curling slow.
โoh,โ you murmur, thumb brushing the screen, โnew match.โ
sanemi doesnโt look right away. but he hears the tone, the way your voice tips at the end, and glances anyway. one look at your screen and his entire face changes.
โwhat the fuckโโ he leans closer, squinting. โgyomei? gyomei?? what the hell is a monk doing on tinder?!โ
you bite your lip, trying not to laugh. โguess heโs looking for love like the rest of us.โ
โheโs a..โ sanemi says, like that explains everything. his eyebrows are doing a full gymnastics routine. โheโs tooโ i donโt knowโholy for this crap.โ
you hum, tapping your finger against the phone thoughtfully. โso youโre saying heโs out of my league?โ his head snaps toward you so fast itโs a miracle he doesnโt pull something. โthatโs not what i said.โ
โhmm. sounds like it.โ you grin, clicking the heart without hesitation. โwell, too late now.โ
โyou didnโtโโ โi did.โ
his jaw tightens, the muscle in it jumping. โyouโre unbelievable.โ you tuck your phone to your chest, tilting your head. โwhat, jealous of a match?โ
โjealous?โ he scoffs, but it sounds thin, brittle around the edges. โof some monk who probably meditates before sending a text? yeah, right.โ
you lean in, your smile gone soft and daring. โso you wouldnโt care if i went out with him?โ
he goes still. absolutely still. then, quietly, teeth clenchedโ
โyouโre not gonna.โ
and you laugh, sweet and taunting, pretending to swipe again while his hand twitches like heโs fighting the urge to snatch your phone away.
you open instagram like a bored habit and there he is right at the front, red ring around his icon practically pulsing. you tap and itโs him in the gym mirror, shirt off, sweat gleaming down the cut of his stomach, towel slung careless over his shoulder, knuckles bandaged. the caption is something criminally unserious like focus up with a sparkle emoji and you actually laugh, head tipped back against the couch.
you slide up before you can talk yourself out of it.
nice shoulders, shame about the personality.
the typing bubble pops up immediately, disappears, pops up again like heโs arguing with his own thumbs. then:
that mouth of yours really came on here to talk to me before breakfast
you grin, already ruthless.
be honest, you posted this for me. i see the thirst in your little vein
thereโs a beat. a picture comes through, taken lower, closer, his hipbone peeking, water bottle against his thigh, the shadow of a smile in the mirror behind the flash. then his message lands:
calm down, menace. go ask your new boyfriend gyomei to like your little jokes
you snort out loud.
donโt be jealous, itโs unflattering on a man who moisturizes with motor oil
instant reply.
bold talk from a gremlin with a 5โ2 wingspan
you gasp like itโs real. fingers fly.
thatโs not even right. also your form on those curls was mid at best, get a spotter grandpa
he sends a voice note, the kind he only sends when heโs a little out of breath, low and scratchy in your ear. you hear the clink of weights and the faint echo of the gym, his laugh under it, rough. โyou stalking my form now, short stack? thatโs cute. save your critiques for the monks youโre courting.โ
your smile gets mean and sweet at once.
you keep bringing him up, if youโre that curious maybe iโll invite you to the wedding
โover my dead body.โ another voice note, closer, you picture him leaning on the mirror, hand on his thigh, eyes slit low like heโs squinting at his own reflection. โand stop looking at my story like that.โ
like what, you type, feigning innocent.
โlike you want to bite.โ
your legs pull up under you on instinct, blanket trapped in your fists, the way he says it sinks hot in your lungs. you angle for blood.
i do, iโm just deciding where to start
silence, then the little bubble stutters again. he sends a photo instead of an answer, not as revealing as it could be, somehow worse, a close crop of his throat and the line down his chest where sweat slicks into the valley, the caption typed lazy across the bottom. try me, coward.
you grin into your phone, wicked.
coward? okay then, flex again for the camera old man, make it worth my time
โyouโre insufferable.โ another voice note, and you can hear the smile heโs trying to choke down. โand you like it. donโt skip the part where you say you like it.โ
your thumb hovers, indecisive, then you send a heart just to make him flinch, follow it with:
hit me with your best, nemi. impress me.
the dots appear. stop. appear again. your screen lights with an incoming call, his name bright and familiar, and when you swipe up heโs already flipped to the front camera, still shirtless, breath a little fast, grin all teeth and trouble as he lifts the phone enough to make your mouth go a little dry, the gym noise a soft band of sound around his voice when he says your name like heโs cussing and thanking someone in the same breath, like heโs about to ask what youโre doing later and if youโre still talking to monks or if youโre ready to be a nightmare exclusively on his time
youโre walking the produce aisle like itโs a runway, basket on your arm, sanemi half a step behind you with his hands stuffed in his hoodie like your personal homeless stray who decided he lives here now. he keeps bumping the back of your heel with the cart he insisted on grabbing, just to hear you yelp and glare at him. he grins every time.
โwhat about pasta,โ you say, reaching for a box like you didnโt just grab the prettiest color. โcacio e pepe, easy, cute.โ
he makes a face so offended, โbox pasta and powdered cheese, that what you feeding your monk boyfriend.โ
โheโs not my boyfriend,โ you hum, dropping the pasta in the cart anyway. โand itโs not powdered. itโs aged.โ
โaged my ass,โ he mutters, picking the box back up to read the label like heโs conducting a crime scene sweep. he puts it down and reaches past you for a semolina brand you did not ask for. โthis one doesnโt suck.โ
you pivot to tomatoes, pop one from the vine to smell it, bright and green at the stem. he watches the way you do it like you just grew a second head. โyou gonna sniff the basil too or you just pretending to know what youโre doing.โ
โi know what iโm doing,โ you say, which is funny because you promptly grab the saddest jar of marinara on the shelf. his hand snaps out, taps your wrist.
โabsolutely not.โ
โitโs convenient.โ
โitโs sugar and shame.โ
you stare him down, then toss it in the cart on purpose. he plucks it back out with a scoff and replaces it with whole peeled san marzano. โif youโre gonna corrupt your insides, at least do it with good ingredients.โ
you wander to the meat section and point like a game show host. โchicken, steak, or something ground. decide your protein, sir judge a lot.โ
he eyes the options, โthat steak is too thin, that chicken is dry just from looking at it, and ground turkey is a cry for help.โ he reaches into the case, picks a thick cut with practiced fingers, checks the marbling. โthis. salt, pepper, pan hot. donโt touch it until it tells you to.โ
โgordon ramsey?โ
he rolls his eyes and adds a carton of eggs like an afterthought. you lift a brow. โmidnight omelets,โ he says, not looking at you. โin case your fancy noodles fail.โ
you float toward the bakery, fingertips brushing glossy brioche. โbread is dessert that never learned self control.โ he still grabs a loaf and throws it in the cart. โfor sopping. youโre not wasting the juice.โ
โdonโt say that word, โnemi.โ
โsopping.โ
you detour for greens, start toward the bagged salad like a heathen, and he herds you by the hip with the cart, gentle and bossy. โweโre not eating plastic leaves. pick romaine that doesnโt look like shit.โ he hands you a head that is crisp and smugly alive.
you add lemons, garlic, a fat bunch of parsley because it looks romantic in the basket. heโs trailing so close the heat of him whispers the back of your neck. every time you stop, he stops a breath from your shoulder. every time you move, he moves with you like gravity.
โwine,โ you say, pointing.
โyouโll pick the label with the prettiest animal,โ he says, already reaching for a bottle that looks more his style, โthis one wonโt fight the food.โ
โso you are jealous,โ you sing, and his eye twitches.
โof fermented grapes?โ he deadpans. โyep. real rivalry going.โ
you catch him sneaking a look at your phone in the crook of your elbow. his mouth goes flat. โif gyomei sends you a recipe recommendation, iโm blocking him from your contacts.โ
โhe sent a prayer hands emoji,โ you say, delighted. โi think heโs rooting for me.โ
โgreat,โ he says, grabbing a pepper grinder the size of a bat. โyou can ask him to season your steak through telepathy.โ
at checkout he insists on bagging, rough hands careful with the eggs, careful with the tomatoes, careful with the bottle you know he picked so youโd like it. he tucks the herbs on top like a bouquet and pretends he really didnโt try to just lamely impress you.
outside, the evening is soft and gold and he falls in beside you, two bags on one forearm like it weighs nothing, your shoulder brushing his on the walk to the car while you argue about cast iron versus nonstick and whether youโre allowed to add chili flakes without him throwing a fit.
the bakeryโs door chimes when you push it open, the kind of sound that already smells like sugar. the air inside is warm, heavy with butter and vanilla, cinnamon hiding somewhere in the back. you catch sight of her right awayโmrs. yamada, her gray hair in a tidy bun, her apron dusted white. she looks up from behind the counter and her whole face lights.
โoh, itโs my favorite girl,โ she says, wiping her hands on a towel. โand you brought your boyfriend!โ
you donโt even have time to respond before sanemiโs brow goes up. his head turns toward you like heโs waiting for a correction, a flicker of something sharp and smug beneath the surface. like whatโs your response for this one?ย
you laugh, bright and easy, waving your hands. โoh no, mrs. yamada, heโs like a brother to me.โ in the distance you could hear glass shattering.ย
brother?!
the words barely leave your mouth before you feel itโthe way the air behind you changes. he goes still. completely still.
mrs. yamada claps her hands together, unbothered. โoh! how sweet. you two bicker like siblings anyway.โ she winks and bustles toward the pastry case, muttering about red bean buns, already pulling tongs.
you turn just enough to glance at him. his jawโs tight, that tick again, the one you love to draw out.
โwhat?โ you ask, grin creeping.
โbrother?โ he says it quiet. flat. like the word itself has insulted him.
you pick up a tray, light as ever. โyeah, brother. youโre always yelling at me to eat properly, scolding me for dating, telling me what to doโsounds prettyโฆ. brotherly.โ
he stares at you for a long moment, then exhales through his nose, low and rough. โyeah,ย youโre outta your fuckinโ mind.โ
โwhat? itโs not an insult.โ
he leans in then, slow, voice pitched just for you. โyou ever call me that again in public, and iโm takinโ that bun right outta your mouth.โ
your fingers pause over a sweet roll, eyes flicking up, pulse skipping. โyou wouldnโt dare.โ
he tilts his head, that wolfish smile curving. โtry me.โ
mrs. yamada turns back, handing over a neat little box tied with string, humming softly. you take it, thank her, and when you turn to leave, heโs already holding the door open for you, mouth set in that infuriating half-smile that doesnโt quite reach his eyes.
outside, the airโs cooler, but his moodโs gone molten. โbrother,โ he mutters again, shaking his head. โyou just love testinโ me, donโt you?โ
you hum, skipping a step ahead, the pastry box swinging from your hand. โmaybe i do.โ
his hand finds your waist before you can take another step, firm, fingers pressing into the fabric just enough to make you catch your breath. โthen donโt act surprised when i start playinโ too,โ he says, quiet and low, and lets go before you can answer, walking ahead like nothing happened, like your pulse isnโt still fluttering against the place his hand just was.
he keys the ignition and growls at you to buckle up. you loop your seatbelt, already hunting through your phone. the second you claim the aux, bubble-bright synth fills the cab, sugary vocals skipping over the beat. sanemi winces.
โturn that off,โ he says, fingers drumming on the wheel, knuckles pale.
โrelax, brother,โ you croon, savoring the spark in his eyes when you use the word. the volume nudges higher. the bass rattles the cup holders.
he mutters something about crimes against music and pulls out of the lot. streetlights smear across the windshield, gold on wet asphalt. you hum along, bite into the bun mrs. yamada wrapped for you: flaky shell, sweet white cream rushing over your tongue. perfect.
then the asphalt dips. the truck lurches. your elbow bumps the door and the bun smacks a fat dollop of cream straight onto your cheek. a splatter kisses the corner of your mouth, another dotting the curve of your jaw.
sanemiโs eyes flick sideways. linger. linger too long. the traffic light ahead blooms red.
you swipe a thumb across your cheek, lick the sugar clean. โeyes on the road, nemi.โ your voice turns to pure mischief. โor were you admiring the view?โ
his jaw works. โfuck off.โ but he still hasnโt looked away. the red light halos the sharp line of his profile, the way his throat bobs when you suck cream from the pad of your finger.
โwant a taste?โ you offer the last bite, waving it under his nose. the light flips green; tires squeal as he punches the gas, your laughter tumbling with the pop songโs glittering chorus.
โkeep that shit to yourself,โ he snaps, but the flush cresting his ears and face glow hotter than the dashboard LEDs. you smirk, sink your teeth into pastry, let the cream ooze slow while the city slides by.
he clears his throat halfway through a chorus, knuckles tight on the wheel. โi need a plus one,โ he says, like itโs nothing. โthereโs an event. friend of mineโs throwing it. youโre coming.โ
you snort into whatโs left of your bun. โno, iโm not.โ
his head jerks. โyes, you are.โ
โno,โ you sing, twisting the volume higher just to be a menace. โi hate those stuffy things. shoes that hurt. small talk that makes me want to chew glass.โ
โitโs not stuffyโฆ.kindaโ he argues, even though you know it absolutely is. โthereโs an open bar. thereโs food youโll like. and iโm not showing up alone so youโre coming.โ
you peep at him over the glow of your phone. โask one of your gym girls.โ
his jaw flexes. โi donโt want one of them.โ
โaww,โ you coo, dangerous sweet. โso you want me.โ
i do, he exhales through his nose like heโs counting to ten. a red light paints his face. โi need you to do this. new suit. stupid theme. networking. iโm not making small talk sober and alone.โ
you drag out the pause on purpose. โstill no.โ
he throws a small fit, the kind that lives in his shoulders and his hands. taps the wheel. mutters. changes lanes like he is punishing the asphalt. โyou owe me,โ he tries. โi fixed your sink. i carried your couch up three flights. i watch what you eat.i stood in a grocery aisle for twenty minutes while you chose pasta with your eyes. i have suffered.โ
you grin slow. โdramatic.โ
โyes,โ he bites back, quick. โnow say yes.โ
you pretend to think. eyes on the window, city lights sliding syrupy and gold. โi guess i could be persuaded.โ
his gaze flickers over. hopeful, sharp. โyeah?โ
โyeah,โ you say, and then twist the knife, lazy. โbecause i would never miss a chance to meet your hot friends. maybe they can take me home after.โ
the silence sharpens. both hands clamp on the wheel. the tendons in his forearms pop. you watch the way he breathes slow, like he has to remember how.
โnobody is taking you anywhere,โ he says finally, voice low and very steady. โyouโre leaving with me.โ
you lick cream from your thumb just to be cruel. โweโll see.โ
โno,โ he says, firmer. โwe wonโt.โ
the light flips green. he rolls forward, eyes forward, ears a little red now. you can feel the stubborn in the air like heat off a grill.
โwhatโs the dress code,โ you ask, all innocence.
โblack tie,โ he says. โdo not show up in those sparkly shoes. heels. the black dress. the one that makes me want to pick a fight with a wall.โ
โyou noticed that dress,โ you murmur, pleased.
โeveryone noticed,โ he mutters, and then louder, like he can outshout his own admission, โbe ready at seven. iโm knocking at 6:59. do not make me drag you out.โ
โoh, iโm making you,โ you say, sugary, and his hand twitches on the signal like he might miss the turn if you keep talking like that.
his phone buzzes on the console. you glance at the name. giyu. he flips it over, like it pissed him off, โand tell your monk to stop sending you emojis.โ
โprayer hands is supportive,โ you say. โhe believes in me.โ
โi believe in stopping this conversation,โ he grinds out. โtext me your size. iโm getting you a wrap. and earrings. youโre not wearing those cheap ones that turn your ears green.โ
โso you are jealous,โ you hum.
โi am prepared,โ he says, which is funny because he looks anything but. โeat your bun. turn down this nightmare music. and text me yes so i can send you the details.โ
you type a single heart and the word fine, dot dot dot, and then, because you live to watch him unspool, you add canโt wait to meet the hot ones with a winky face, and he pulls to the curb outside your place with a brake that says he is one second from climbing out and coming around to tell you with his mouth what no means, and when you unclip your seatbelt he leans in just a fraction, soft heat in the cab, voice rough.
โ7,โ he repeats. โdonโt make me come get you.โ
you slide out with your box of pastries and the softest laugh, call over your shoulder that youโll be an angel, promise, and he mutters liar while you walk backward toward your door, his headlights painting your legs, his eyes on your mouth like he already knows what shade youโll wear to the ball and exactly how long heโs going to stare at it while you pick your wrap and answer texts you shouldnโt be answering at all
you dress slow just to be evil about it. the black dress slides over your hips, satin catching the light where it clings. the push up bra does exactly what you bought it to do, tipping you up and together so the neckline looks dangerous and soft at the same time. you fasten the necklace last, a thin line of metal that drips from your throat all the way to your sternum, an arrow that says look here and keep looking. heels on. perfume at your pulse. gloss that makes your mouth look bitten.
he knocks at 6:59 like he promised. you open.
sanemi in a suit is a problem you are not morally prepared for. jacket fitted clean across his shoulders, shirt open one button lower than it should be so his collarbone teases you, tie loosened like he got annoyed trying to make it perfect. heโs all sharp edges with nowhere to put his hands. then he sees you.
the first look hits like a punch. his eyes catch on the line of the necklace and do not move. you watch his pupils kick wide. the second look is lower and meaner and something else, like he wants to curse and pray at the same time but refuses to give you the satisfaction of either. he remembers how to breathe and then promptly forgets again.
โgo change,โ he says, hoarse.
you tip your chin, innocent. โno.โ
he swallows. tries to glare. fails. โyouโre not leaving the house like that.โ
โi am,โ you say, picking up your clutch. โwith you. be nice.โ
he stands there a full two seconds, fighting god and himself, then exhales like he just lost. he thrusts a small bag at you. โwrap. earrings. put them on.โ
you peek inside, grin. the earrings are simple and expensive. the wrap is soft, heavier than it looks. โyou got me presents. romantic.โ
โi got you armor,โ he mutters. then, softer, โturn.โ
you do. he steps in close to fasten the earrings, fingers steady even though you can feel the heat of his palm where it braces your jaw. he smells like subtle cologne and something darker that lives in his collar. he moves to lay the wrap over your shoulders and hesitates at your nape, thumb barely skimming the chain where it meets your skin. the touch is nothing. your body treats it like everything.
โnemi,โ you say, sweet. โeyes are up here.โ his gaze drags up slow like it costs him. โdo not start with me tonight.โ
โwho started it when he told me to wear the black dress that makes him want to punch drywall,โ you say, turning to face him. โhm?โ
his mouth flattens. his cheeks are pink. โwe are late.โ
in the elevator he stands at your back, a full breath closer than polite, one hand braced above you on the rail like he can block the world with his arm if he has to. the doors open and he guides you out with a palm at your lower spine, not pushing, just there, anchoring.
you reach for the aux out of habit the second you slide into his truck. he swats your hand away, starts the engine, stares through the windshield like it will save him from you. โno pop. my brain cannot take chords that sound like glitter.โ
you hum and queue a chorus anyway, low enough to make him sigh but not reach for the volume. city lights skim over the inside of the cab. at the next red he looks again. the necklace catches the dash glow and paints your sternum in a thin line of silver. his jaw flexes.
โyou look unreal,โ he says finally, like a confession.
โyou should tell your friends so they know to be nice to me,โ you say. โand to ask for my number.โ
he laughs once, ugly and soft. โnobody is asking you for shit.โ
your phone buzzes in your lap. you angle it so you can see and so he can see you see. a preview from gyomei sits there like a stone in a pond. hope your evening is lovely. take care. you send back a heart because you like watching sanemi pretend nothing moves him.
โtext him again and iโm taking your phone,โ he says.
โyou can try,โ you say, crossing your legs. the hem slides higher. he notices and immediately refuses to acknowledge that he noticed.
the venue eats the block when you pull up. glass and stone. warm light spilling across the sidewalk. he parks like a man preparing for war, kills the engine, rests his hands on the wheel for a second. then he turns to you and the pose shifts from careful to feral, something in him leaning forward like gravity got meaner.
โyou stay with me,โ he says, quiet. โif you need anything you look at me. not anyone else. not tonight.โ
you smile. โclingy.โ
โprepared,โ he says, and gets out. he comes around, opens your door, offers his hand like he is a gentleman and not the same man who threatens to take pastries out of your mouth when you call him brother. his palm is warm. you step down, and his eyes dip one more time to where the necklace ends and you swear he flinches.
inside, the lobby is all polished stone and soft chatter. he checks you in with your name on his tongue like he is not used to saying it out loud. he sets the wrap more snug around your shoulders even though you try to shrug it off. he leans in to your ear. โbe good.โ
โdefine good,โ you murmur, and he breathes out hard, one corner of his mouth betraying him.
you feel the turn of the room before you see it. a friend of his clocks you both from across the floor and comes over, tall, handsome, smile wide, tie undone, the kind of charisma that belongs on stages. sanemiโs hand tightens on your waist as the other man says your name like he wants a piece of you, eyes dropping to your necklace with appreciation that is not subtle at all, and your own smile goes bright and sunny as you say hello and watch sanemi try to decide whether to introduce you or set the entire building on fire while a server drifts by with champagne flutes that you take out of spite and because you like bubbles on your tongue, and a string quartet in the corner slips into something lush while the room starts to swell with more bodies and more heat and more eyes that find you and then find him and linger, the night just beginning to tip forward into a story you plan to make very difficult for him to survive without losing his mind at least once
sanemiโs hand has been at your waist since you walked in, warm and heavy, grounding and possessive in a way he wonโt admit out loud.
but youโve made an art out of escaping him.
he gets caught in conversationโsomething about work, or fighting, or whatever men with too much ego talk aboutโand you use the moment to slip from his grasp, light as a ghost.
you wander, half bored, half watching. the skirt of your dress flares as you walk, catching whispers of light. and then you see her.
kanae.
sheโs stunning, of course. all delicate shoulders and petal-pink lipstick, the kind of woman who glows without trying. beside her stands her boyfriendโdouma, tall and glassy-eyed, grin like a blade dipped in sugar. they look like a painting together.
you donโt even mean to smile, but you do. you smooth your hair, straighten the strap of your dress, and make your way toward them with the kind of grace thatโs part confidence, part mischief.
โhi,โ you chirp, voice sugar-sweet. โi donโt think weโve met. iโm sanemiโs plus one.โ
kanae turns, polite surprise in her face. โoh! hello. itโs nice to meet you. iโm kanae, and this is my boyfriend, douma.โ
โboyfriend,โ you echo, soft laugh slipping out. โright. iโve heard so much about you.โ
she tilts her head, curious. โall good things, i hope?โ
โdepends who you ask.โ your grin is effortless. โbut honestly, i see what the fuss was about. youโre even prettier in person.โ
she flushes a little, smiling modestly. douma laughs under his breath, a sound thatโs too smooth to be harmless. โand you,โ he says, โmust be the reason sanemi hasnโt looked away from this corner in the last two minutes.โ
you glance over your shoulderโand sure enough, heโs watching.
arms crossed. jaw locked. eyes dark and narrow, cutting through the crowd like smoke.
you can feel it, even from across the roomโthe coil of irritation under his skin, the weight of every thought heโs trying not to have.
you bite back a giggle. fail miserably.
โheโs just shy,โ you say innocently, then lean a little closer to kanae, conspiratorial. โor maybe he just doesnโt like seeing his ex-crush in the same room as his current date.โ
kanae blinks. โex-crush?โ
โoh, didnโt he tell you?โ you say, smile too wide. โnever mind. iโm sure it was ages ago.โ
douma laughs again, low and knowing, eyes flicking toward sanemi. โyouโre quite the little troublemaker.โ
you shrug, sipping champagne. โdepends who you ask.โ
across the room, sanemiโs already moving. the kind of stride that cuts clean through the chatter. you can practically feel the heat of his stare crawling up your neck.
and youโterrible, delighted youโjust tilt your glass, watch the bubbles catch the light, and murmur to kanae, โuh oh. i think iโm in trouble.โ
she blinks again, soft voice uncertain. โdid youโฆ do something?โ
โnot yet,โ you say, smiling, eyes locked on sanemi as he closes in. โbut iโm about to.โ
he reaches you before you can finish your champagne. one big hand closes around your wrist, not hard, just enough to make your breath catch. โweโre leaving,โ he says, voice too low to argue with.
the room hums on around youโmusic, laughter, heels clickingโbut all you can feel is the heat of his palm and the crackle of whatever storm heโs swallowing down. he steers you through the corridor that leads to the back terrace, every line of him tight and vibrating. the door shuts behind you, soft click swallowed by the hush of night.
โwhat the hell was that?โ he says, facing you now.
you blink, all wide eyes and false innocence. โwhat was what?โ
โdonโt play dumb.โ his jaw jumps. โwhat did you tell kanae.โ
you lean against the rail, tilt your head just a little. โonly the truth.โ
he takes a step closer. โwhich is?โ
you smile, lazy, like youโre testing the edge of a knife. โthat you used to have a crush on her.โ
his eyes go wide for a beatโshock, then irritation, then something darker. โyou actually told her that?โ
you shrug. โshe deserved to know.โ
โsheโs got a boyfriend,โ he grits out. โwhy would youโโ he cuts himself off, drags a hand down his face. โyou canโt justโ christ, you never think before you open your mouth.โ
the sting hits harder than it should. you cross your arms, chin lifting. โitโs not like i said you still like her.โ
โyou shouldnโt have said anything at all.โ he turns away, looking out at the city lights. โyou donโt get it, do you? she and iโ that was years ago. and now i gotta deal with that smug bastard she brought thinking iโm still hung up on her.โ
you blink at him, trying not to flinch. โwhy are you so mad?โ
โbecause youโโ he stops, exhale sharp. โyou just donโt know when to quit. always pushing. always teasing until you hit something you shouldnโt.โ
you fold your hands around the edge of the rail, press cold metal into your palms. โyou were fine when i teased you. what changed?โ
he looks at you then, eyes cutting through the dark. โyou made me look like an idiot.โ
silence. long, thick.
you try to smile it off, but it doesnโt stick. โyou didnโt seem to care what anyone thought before.โ
โyeah, well,โ he says, quieter now, โmaybe i started to.โ
his words hang there between you, fragile and half-meant, and for once you donโt know whether to laugh or to apologize, so you just stand there, heart beating too loud, wondering when teasing stopped feeling so safe.
you lift your chin and meet him with something meaner. โoh, please,โ you say, rolling your eyes like it doesnโt hurt. โyouโre acting like i ruined your reputation or something.โ
he opens his mouth but you cut him off, the words spilling faster now, slick with anger. โitโs not like you were flirting with me in front of her or anything. i was just making conversation. you didnโt need to drag me out here like i kicked your dog.โ
he blinks, startled, but youโre already moving past him, reaching for your phone. โwhatever. iโm done talking about it. iโve got more men to scout after anyway.โ
his head jerks up. โwhat?โ
you wave your phone at him, flashing the screen like a trophy. โmanaged to get a few numbers already. ballโs full of possibilities.โ your smile is syrupy sweet, the kind that hides the ache sitting behind your chest. โmaybe one of them will actually like my teasing.โ
for a second, he doesnโt move. doesnโt breathe. the city hums below, soft and golden, and he just stares at you with that awful stillness that always comes before the storm.
โyouโre lying,โ he says finally, voice low.
you arch a brow. โwhat, canโt handle a little competition?โ
his tongue darts against his teeth, jaw working. โcompetition?โ he echoes. โi donโt compete.โ
โno, you just scold,โ you snap back. โand sulk. and act like you donโt care while glaring at anyone who looks at me for more than three seconds.โ
the words hang there, too bare. you swallow and look away, thumb swiping at your phone though youโre not really seeing anything. โdonโt worry, nemi. you can have your pride, and iโll have myโโ
โdonโt,โ he cuts in, a step closer now, voice taut. โdonโt finish that sentence.โ
โwhy not?โ you fire back, still not looking at him. โafraid iโll hurt your feelings?โ
โbecause you didnโt get anyoneโs number,โ he says, almost to himself, like heโs reminding both of you of something that shouldnโt matter this much. โyou just want me to think you did.โ
your breath catches, fingers stilling against the screen. โso what if i did?โ
he laughs once, bitter, rough around the edges. โthen iโd still be standing right here. because you can say what you want, but youโre not walking out of this room with anyone else.โ
the air between you folds in on itself, heavy and hot. you force a laugh, small and trembling. โyouโre โฆ crazy.โ
โyeah,โ he says, stepping closer, eyes dark, voice a scrape of want and frustration. โand you love it.โ
the distance shrinks to a heartbeat. you can smell him againโ cologne, anger, the faint trace of your own perfume clinging to his jacket. youโre not sure who moves first, but his hand is suddenly at your hip, fingers curling just enough to make you shiver, and heโs looking at you like youโre the thing he swore not to want and lost that battle ages ago.
you step back from sanemi, heart hammering, that mixture of spite and thrill bubbling hot in your chest. heโs watching you, mouth a flat line, eyes sharp, and thatโs what makes you do it.
you slip out of the terrace, slip back into the blur of the ballroom. soft light, laughter, clink of glassesโeverything glows a little too bright. you scan the room and pick the first stranger who looks kind enough not to take you too seriously. tall, dark hair, pleasant smile.
you drift his way with the kind of confidence that feels borrowed. he notices you immediatelyโhow could he notโand smiles.
โhi,โ you say, sweet, a little breathless. โi just wanted to tell you that you might be the most handsome man iโve seen tonight.โ
his laugh is surprised, not cocky. โthat so?โ
โmm.โ you nod, all sugar. โabsolutely.โ
he reaches for his pocket, still smiling. โthen i guess you should have my number. just in case you change your mind tomorrow.โ
you hold your phone out. he types. the exchange takes seconds, light and harmless, your heart still beating like itโs a crime.
โthanks,โ you say, voice soft. โyouโve made my night.โ
he grins, says something polite, and youโre already walking away, phone warm in your hand, a small proof of something you donโt even believe in.
when you look up, sanemiโs there. still in the same place. hands in his pockets. watching.
he doesnโt say a word when you stop in front of him, just looks from you to the phone to the stranger across the room. his jaw ticks. you tilt your head, smile too wide. โwhat?โ you ask. โyou told me not to lie about it.โ
โyou called him the most handsome man,โ he says, low, like he canโt quite believe you.
โi did.โ you hum, pocketing your phone. โyou canโt argue with facts, nemi.โ
his laugh is short and ugly. โfacts. right.โ he steps closer, enough that you have to look up, his voice rough at the edges. โyou like making me crazy that much?โ
you grin, pretending your pulse isnโt fucked. โitโs my favorite hobby.โ
he stares at you for a long, unbearable second. then his hand finds your wrist againโcareful, not pulling this time, just holding, his thumb sliding once over your pulse.
โcongratulations,โ he says finally, low enough to barely hear. โyou found the handsomest man in the room.โ
you smirk. โthank youโโ
โbut heโs not him,โ he cuts in, eyes holding yours. โand you know it.โ
you blink, the words catching on your breath. the air between you is all heat and gravity again, the noise of the ballroom fading until itโs just him and the space you havenโt decided to close yet.
you tilt your head, that teasing curl already finding your mouth. โoh yeah?โ you murmur, voice honey-thick. โif heโs not the handsomest man in the room, then who is, nemi?โ
he doesnโt hesitate this time. his voice comes out low, steady, all gravel and pride. โme.โ
you blink at him once. twice. the corner of your mouth twitches up slow. โyou?โ
โyou heard me,โ he says, chin lifting just a little, that same impossible confidence threading through the heat of his words. โgo ahead. argue.โ
you laughโbright, delighted, a little breathless. โin your dreams, nemi,โ you say, eyes sparkling as you take a deliberate step closer. โyou are attractively challenged.โ
his jaw drops, and for a second, the air between you goes quiet before he huffs out a laughโreal, sharp, teeth flashing. โwhat?โ
you grin wider. โyou heard me.โ
he drags a hand down his face, the smile tugging despite himself. โyouโre outta your fuckinโ mind with that one.โ he mutters, but his eyes are soft now, that mix of frustration and something warmer that keeps sneaking through no matter how hard he fights it.
you shrug, brushing past him just enough for your shoulder to graze his. โbuuut you like it,โ you throw over your shoulder.
he catches your wrist before you can take another step, fingers curling gentle this time. โyeah,โ he says, quieter now, close enough that you feel it more than hear it. โi really do.โ
the laughter and the music swell around you again, but he doesnโt let go right away. you stand there in that half-lit corner, your pulse thudding against his thumb. you shake your wrist loose with a soft little scoff, the kind that says youโre not touching whatever weird mood heโs in. he mutters something under his breath as you walk back toward the light and chatter, and you pretend not to hear it.
the rest of the night smooths itself out. you dance when someone tugs you into the crowd. you eat too many hors dโoeuvres, drink champagne until your laugh gets loose again. sanemi hovers, never too far, a shadow orbiting your radius, but you keep him out of armโs reach. when you catch his eyes across the room, you lift your glass and grin like nothing in the world is wrong.
by the time youโre in his truck again, the cityโs gone quiet, all sodium glow and empty streets. he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other drumming restless against his thigh. the radio hums low between you. itโs comfortable, almostโjust the sound of the tires and the air conditioner and the small space youโre pretending isnโt full of things unsaid.
he drops you off out front, headlights washing your legs pale in the dark. you thank him like. he just nods, gaze somewhere near your shoes, mutters โnight,โ and pulls away before you can wave.
inside, your apartment feels too still, the kind of quiet that makes you aware of your own breathing. you kick off your heels, toss your clutch on the couch, collapse beside it with your phone in hand. a little smirk curves your mouth before youโve even opened messages.
you scroll until you find the number from the man at the ball. type fast, thumbs moving on muscle memory.
you: hey, tonight was fun. hope to see you again sometime :)
you hit send, toss the phone onto the cushion, and stretch. outside, a car passes, tires whispering over asphalt. the air smells faintly of perfume and the sweet bread you brought home from the bakery.
somewhere across town, sanemiโs probably pacing his living room, still in that half-undone suit, cursing himself for caring. you tell yourself it doesnโt matter. that you had a good night. that youโre not waiting for the vibration of a text back or for his name to flash on your screen.
and when the phone lights, soft and unexpected, you canโt quite help the small, knowing smile that follows.
the week that follows turns into a blur of outfits and bad lighting and half-interesting conversation. you make a game of itโdates like checkpoints, stories to tell later. sanemi finds out because you tell him, of course. because you love watching him pretend not to care.
the first guy takes you to a rooftop bar, the kind with too many lights and not enough personality. he talks about crypto and his gym split. he has nice arms and no follow-through. you text your best friend a review after:
6/10. good lighting, mid conversation, smelled like axe and capitalism.
sanemi texts back in under a minute:
youโre kidding. axeย and capitalism? stop dating idiots.
the second one takes you to a ramen place. he slurps too loud but makes you laugh onceโreal, sharp. you tell sanemi over takeout the next day, just to see him flinch.
โhe said my laugh was cute,โ you say, smiling into your noodles. he doesnโt look up. โhe sounds blind.โย
you send him the formal review later: 8/10. slurped like a vacuum cleaner but at least listened.
his reply: youโre losing your standards. get a hobby.
by the third date youโre in full chaos mode. a museum, quiet and gold, the guy polite and boring in equal measure. you text the rating before you even get home: 5/10. educated, boring, kissed like a man who studied geometry for funsies.
sanemiโs answer comes five seconds later: stop using tinder. iโm begging.
you donโt.
thereโs a coffee date. a dinner date. one short walk in the park that ends with you pretending to check your phone just to escape. each review is a new jab, and each time his responses get shorter, tighter, rougher.
why are you telling me this
do you want me to lose my mind
this is not funny anymore
you tell yourself heโs just being protective. you tell yourself heโs always like this. you tell yourself you donโt notice how heโs started showing up at your place more often, how his texts hit midnight, short and sharp.
on friday, you come home from your latest dateโa man who looked good on paper and nowhere elseโand find him waiting on your steps. hands in his jacket, jaw set.ย
โhow was it,โ he asks, voice low.
you smile, too bright. โoh, you know. 7/10. good smile, boring taste in wine. might see him again.โ
he stares at you for a long moment, the muscle in his cheek ticking. โdonโt,โ he says finally.
you tilt your head, all false innocence. โdonโt what?โ
โdonโt go,โ he says, quieter now. โdonโt keep going on these stupid dates just to tell me about them.โ
you blink, heartbeat quickening. โwho says iโm doing it for you?โ
his laugh is sharp, no humor in it. โbecause you never shut up about them otherwise.โ
you take a step forward. โmaybe i just want someone who doesnโt look at me like iโm a bad idea.โ
he looks up then, really looks, and itโs all teeth and ache. โthen stop going out with men who arenโt me.โ
the words hang there, a rough confession wrapped in anger, the kind you canโt take back. you stare at him, the night pressing close, the air gone electric again.
you could laugh. you could kiss him. you could run.
you just breathe, soft and shaky, like the storyโs about to tilt either way. you blink at him, slow, brain still trying to catch up. โwhat?โ it comes out half a whisper, half disbelief, the kind of word you say when your body refuses to process what your ears just heard.
sanemi exhales like heโs been holding it for hours. runs a hand through his hair, mussing it worse. he looks everywhere but at youโthe streetlight, the sidewalk, the cracks in the concreteโbefore finally meeting your eyes.
โshit,โ he mutters. โi didnโt meanโ no, i did mean it, just not like that.โ
you frown. โwhat the hell does that mean, nemi?โ
he swallows, shoulders tight. โiโm not good at this. you know that. i donโtโโ he gestures vaguely between you. โwhatever this is, i donโt know how to say it without sounding like a jackass.โ
you cross your arms, voice small but steady. โtry.โ
he drags a hand down his face. โyouโre driving me insane. i donโt even know when it started. one second we were justโโ he waves his hand, helplessโ โyou being annoying, me telling you off. normal. and then all of a sudden, every time i see you with someone else, i feel like iโm gonna break something.โ
you just stare. no snark this time. no grin.
he keeps going, quieter now, like the words have been sitting behind his teeth for too long. โi hate hearing about those dates. i hate the reviews. i hate that you come back and tell me what you like and what you didnโt like about them, because all i can think is that it shouldโve been me.โ
your breath catches.
he laughs once, dry. โand i know how that sounds. i know i act like a dick half the time. i justโโ he hesitates, looks down. โyouโre it for me, alright? and iโm too stubborn to figure out how to say that without screwing it up.โ
for a long, stretched heartbeat, neither of you moves. the streetlight hums faintly. somewhere down the block, a car door slams.
you take one small step forward, voice soft. โyouโre saying this now?โ
he looks up, eyes a little wild. โyeah, well, apparently watching you flirt your way through half the city was the only way iโd get my head outta my ass.โ
you huff a breath thatโs almost a laugh, almost a sob. โyouโre unbelievable.โ
โyeah,โ he says, and thereโs that crooked half-smile again, the one thatโs all apology and longing. โbut you like it.โ
you roll your eyes, but itโs softer this time. โgod help me, i really might.โ
he lets out a breath like heโs been underwater, and it fogs in the night air between you, close enough to touch.
you canโt help itโyou start laughing. it bubbles up before you can swallow it down, high and bright and a little nervous, because his face is so damn serious.
โthis is funny,โ you say between breaths, shaking your head. โyouโthisโ whatever youโre doing right now, itโs a funny joke. ten out of ten, nemi. really sold it with the tortured tone.โ
he just stares, jaw tight, brows drawn like you just punched him instead of laughed.
you take a step back, still half-smiling. โbut iโm not in the mood for jokes tonight, okay? itโs been a long week.โ you turn, start toward the door, rummaging through your bag for your keys.
he moves quick. his hand catches your wrist again, not rough, just firm, the way he always does when heโs trying to keep you from disappearing.
โhey,โ he says, quiet but solid, right behind you.
you twist a little, the laugh still on your mouth, gentler now. โnemi, stop being weird. youโre freaking me out.โ
his thumb drags once against your pulse. โiโm not joking,โ he says, voice low, the words sticking like heat. โyou think iโd make something like this a joke?โ
you try to pull free, half-hearted, still smiling even as your chest tightens. โwell you sound insane right now, so maybe.โ
he sighs, shoulders slumping. โyou laugh every time i try to be serious. every. single. damn. time.โ
โbecause youโre you,โ you say, giggling again, softer, like maybe you can keep things from tilting. โand youโre never serious. you make fun of my cooking, my music, myโeverything. now suddenly youโre out here confessing under a streetlight like some rom-com reject? come on.โ
he doesnโt move, doesnโt laugh, just watches you. the silence stretches, heavy. your smile falters a little, but you still tug on your hand, murmuring, โlet me go, nemi. youโre being weird.โ
he does, slowly, fingers slipping away. you step back, your laugh catching on something that feels too real, too close.
โgoodnight, sanemi,โ you say finally, still half laughing as you turn toward your living room. you donโt look back, not right away, not even when he mutters your name under his breath, the sound threading through the quiet like heโs not sure if he wants you to hear it or if he just canโt stop saying it at all.
the rhythm slides back in like nothing ever happened. like that night didnโt hang in the air between you for days afterward, heavy and awkward and strange.
he still texts before he comes over. still raids your fridge like he pays rent. still drops his shoes at the door with a sigh.
but now thereโs this new quiet.
you notice it that friday, sprawled together on the couch, your favorite show flashing in the dim. usually heโd be heckling the dialogue, making stupid comments about the characters, snorting every time someone cried. tonight, though, heโs still. too still. one arm slung across the back of the couch, fingers drumming slow against the fabric.
you glance over. โyou good?โ he looks away from the tv, mouth tipping up just a little. โyeah. why?โ
โyouโre quiet.โ he shrugs. โwatching.โ
you raise a brow. โyou never just watch. you always talk over it and make me threaten your life.โ he huffs out a small laugh, not quite meeting your eyes. โmaybe iโm trying to be less annoying.โ
you smirk. โweird resolution, but sure.โ
he goes back to staring at the screen, except you can tell heโs not actually watching. heโs listeningโto you, to the way you laugh at the same scenes, to the soft sound of your chips crunching, to every damn breath.
halfway through the episode, you toss a pillow at him. โwhatโs your deal? youโre acting like a cat that got yelled at.โ
he catches it, presses it against his chest. โjust tired, i guess.โ
you squint, suspicious but too lazy to dig. โtired sanemi is a rare and beautiful creature. should i take a picture?โ
he smiles faintly. โnah. iโll ruin it if i move.โ
so you let it go. keep watching. the glow from the tv flickers across the both of youโyour hand halfway to the popcorn bowl, his eyes catching on it and then darting back to the screen.
a quiet kind of warmth settles in. the kind you donโt want to name, because naming it would make it real.
and when the episode ends, he doesnโt jump up to leave. just leans his head back against the couch, eyes soft, voice low. โplay another?โ
you nod, pretending not to notice the way heโs sitting a little closer than usual, his arm brushing the side of your shoulder, or how his breathing slows to match yours when the next episode starts. you pull your blanket tighter around your shoulders, curling into the corner of the couch. the air conditioning hums, colder than you remembered. you glance over at himโarms now loose across his chest, eyes half on the screen, the glow from the tv making the lines of his face look softer somehow.
you shiver once, dramatic, just for the bit. โugh. freezing.โ
he glances over. โwant me to turn it down?โ
โnah,โ you say, voice sing-song and teasing. โunless youโre offering to cuddle me, i guess iโll suffer.โ
you mean it as a jokeโreally, you doโbut he doesnโt blink. doesnโt smirk. doesnโt call you a brat like he usually would. he just says, low and easy, โyeah. sure.โ
the room goes very still.
you blink. โwhat?โ
โyou said youโre cold,โ he says, matter-of-fact, eyes still half on the tv. โcome here.โ
and just like that, your mouth goes dry.
โyouโreโโ you laugh, nervous. โyouโre actually serious?โ
he turns his head toward you finally, one eyebrow raised, that calm steady look that makes your stomach drop. โyeah. unless you were lying.โ
โiโno, iโโ you stutter, fumbling with the edge of your blanket like it might save you. โfine.โ
you scoot closer, awkward at first. his arm shifts automatically, making space for you, and then itโs doneโyouโre tucked against him, shoulder pressed to his chest, the slow, steady sound of his heartbeat replacing the noise of your thoughts.
heโs warm. too warm.
you mumble, half into his shirt, โyouโre like a space heater.โ
he chuckles, low and quiet, his breath brushing the top of your head. โand youโre dramatic.โ
โshut up,โ you say, but itโs soft, lazy. his arm settles around you, fingers resting lightly at your side.
you tell yourself youโre only doing this because youโre cold. that it doesnโt mean anything. but then you feel him breathe out, slow and careful, like heโs afraid to move too much and ruin it.
โbetter?โ he asks, voice rough.
โyeah,โ you whisper.
the next laugh track from the tv rolls over you both, and for once, you donโt even hear it.
the warmth settles into something easy. your body molds against his like youโve done this before a hundred times, and maybe you haveโin dreams, in half-jokes, in the space between โi donโt careโ and โdonโt go.โ
you start talking again halfway through the next episode, voice soft in the low-lit room.
โyouโd be him, yโknow,โ you say, pointing at the screen. โgrumpy, mean, secretly emotional.โ
sanemi snorts. โyouโre saying iโd die in a trench while yelling about honor?โ
โexactly,โ you grin. โexcept instead of dying, youโd just wake up angry and make it everyone elseโs problem.โ
โand youโd be the one who gets possessed by an ancient crystal and makes it worse for everyone else. cause youโre stupid.โ
โrude.โ
โitโs true.โ
you swat his chest and wriggle out from under his arm, standing to stretch. โiโm getting water. donโt finish the episode without me.โ
โwasnโt planning to,โ he mutters, eyes following you.ย
youโre halfway across the room, blanket trailing behind you, when it happens.
smack.
you yelp, spinning around, hand flying to your hip. โwhat the hell, sanemi?โ
heโs lounging back, one arm behind his head, looking absolutely unbothered. โwhat?โ
โyou smacked my ass.โ
he shrugs, lazy. โainโt the first time. wonโt be the last.โ
you gape at him. โexcuse me?โ
he lifts his brows, deadpan. โthere was a fly.โ
โa fly?โ
โbig one,โ he says. โreal mean. dangerous.โ
โoh my god,โ you mutter, turning back toward the kitchen, ears burning even though youโre trying to look unaffected.
behind you, you hear him chuckle to himself, voice lowโalmost fond. โyouโre welcome, by the way.โ
you donโt answer, but the grin curling your mouth betrays you, even as you open the fridge and glare into it.
water retrieved, dignity somewhat intact, you head back to the couchโonly to pause behind him, lean in close, and whisper:
โhope youโre ready to die in a trench, soldier.โ
he snorts so loud he nearly chokes, and the two of you dissolve into a fresh round of bickering just as the episode picks up again, your shoulder pressing back into his like you never left.
the next few days settle into that easy orbit you and sanemi do so well. grocery runs. you stealing his hoodie and pretending you did not. him pretending he did not notice and then stealing it back out of your laundry basket. shows on the couch. late night food runs. you keep your phone flipped face down, no more play by plays, no more stupid little reviews. he acts normal, mostly. he slants looks at your phone anyway.
then it happens. gyomei. a quiet wine bar with low lamps and a piano that never drowns you out. he pulls your chair in with one hand like it weighs nothing. asks what you like to eat and actually listens. his laugh is warm in his chest. he touches your wrist when the server drops the check, gentle like a question. he walks you to your car and stands a half step back so you do not feel crowded. you get home glowing, fingertips buzzing like you stuck them into a light socket, the good kind.
you cave. you text nemi.
you: just got home
you: date wasโฆ yeah
his reply lands in under fifteen seconds.
nemi: define yeah
you chew your lip, then type the truth.
you: ten out of ten. perfect gentleman. kind eyes. big hands. i like him
dot dot dot. then nothing. then your doorbell rings.
he is on your stoop in a t shirt, jaw tight, eyes narrowed at nothing in particular. you let him in because you always do. he toes off his shoes like he lives here, because he sort of does, and stands in your kitchen with his arms crossed like he is trying not to grab anything and break it.
โso,โ you say, leaning into the counter, still a little breathless from your own happiness. โgyomei.โ
โyeah.โ his mouth barely moves. โi heard.โ you smile small. โi told you.โ
โyou did.โ he stares at your fridge magnet like it owes him money. โcanโt see him dating a hoe.โ
your laugh bursts out, loud and offended and fake wounded all at once. โthat is so mean. what the hell, sanemi.โ
he lifts a shoulder, eyes still on the magnet. โtakes one to know one.โ
โwow,โ you say, hand to your chest, milking it. โslut shamed by my personal homeless stray. tragic.โ
his gaze finally cuts to you, sharp and hot. โyou put on that black dress and go around collecting phone numbers like trading cards and i am the problem.โ
you fold your arms, chin up. โyou hit on half the city with your shirt off and want a medal.โ
โthat is fitness,โ he says, dead serious. โdifferent category.โ
you snort. โyou tried to fight my necklace with a wrap.โ
โyour necklace was starting a problem,โ he mutters. โand now youโre giddy over a monk with forearms.โ
โdo not reduce him to forearms,โ you say, though you are thinking about them. โit was nice, nemi. it felt nice to be liked.โ
that lands. the line of his mouth falters. he rubs a palm over his face and sighs like something heavy got set down inside his chest. โi like you.โ
you shake your head, a little smile you cannot help. โjokes are closed for the evening.โ
โnot joking.โ his voice drops, rough. โi know i say it like a dick. i know i donโt say it right. i still like you.โ
you move around him to the sink for a glass, the air close with the warmth that always lives between you. his eyes follow the line of your shoulder like he is tethered to it. you fill your cup, sip, stall. โgyomei wants to see me again.โ
โbet he does,โ he says, quiet. โbet he tells you youโre beautiful with both hands in his prayer beads like a saint.โ
โmaybe,โ you murmur, leaning on the counter, meeting his stare. โmaybe he will.โ
nemiโs throat works. he steps closer, not touching, just a new temperature in the room. โand youโll go.โ
โmaybe i will,โ you say again, soft. โunless you have something better to offer than calling me a hoe on my own tile.โ
his laugh is ugly and low, his ears a little pink. โyou liked it.โ
โonly because you looked like you wanted to bite your tongue in half after,โ you say, smile curving mean and fond at once.
he crowds a breath closer, palms braced on the counter beside your hips. he smells like soap and the night air. his lashes cast little shadows under the kitchen light. โsay youโre not going,โ he says, not quite a plea. โsay you will stay. right now.โ
your phone buzzes where you left it on the table, a new message lighting the screen, your name and a good night tucked inside it, and sanemiโs eyes flick that way then snap back to you like he refuses to give the text any oxygen, like he can keep it from existing if he does not look twice.
his palms flatten on either side of your hips, the laminate squeaking under his weight as he bends, breath warm against the hollow of your throat. the kitchen light flickers across the sharp cut of his jaw, across your necklace where it pools like liquid silver between your breasts. his eyes drag slow from the shine of it to your mouth, back up, as if strategizing all the places he plans to bruise with attention.
you lift your brows, pretend you do not feel your pulse thrum against the thin chain. โyou lost, nemi? the fridge is the other way.โ
he huffs a laugh that barely breaks the tension, pupils wide, voice rough at the edges. โiโm right where i need to be. say youโre done with him.โ
you toy with the pendant, sliding it back and forth over the swell of your push-up, letting his gaze follow. โiโm not in the habit of taking orders from strays.โ
his fingers curl against the counter, white-knuckled. he leans closer, so close your knees brush his legs, so close you can taste the mint on his breath. โcall me a stray again, see what happens.โ
โstray.โ you breathe the word like a dare, let it glide over his lower lip. his nostrils flare, one hand lifting, thumb tracing the corner of your mouth, soft, at odds with the tension in his shoulders. he ghosts lower, thumb grazing the sticky spot at your collarbone where perfume meets sweat, where your heartbeat drums so loud you know he hears.
your phone buzzes on the table behind him, another polite ping from gyomei. sanemiโs gaze snaps past you, then back, fiercer now. โanswer it,โ he murmurs, teeth flashing, โand iโll take that pretty necklace as payment for my patience.โ
your laughter is shaky, half thrill, half warning. โbold of you to assume iโd let you touch it.โ
his brows rise, a slow predatory grin tipping the balance. โbold of you to think you could stop me.โ
you slide a hand up his chest, feel the muscle jump beneath thin cotton, tug the open collar until his breath stutters. โmight be fun to try.โ
he dips, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice a scrape of heat. โthought you liked ten-out-of-tens. what happens when eleven is standing right in front of you?โ
you turn your face, noses almost touching, your smile all teeth and promise. โguess iโll need a better rating system.โ
his answering hum vibrates through his chest to yours, hand finally settling at your waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your top. you exhale, catch his wrist before it climbs higher, but you do not push him away. his pulse thuds under your thumb, fast, eager.
the phone buzzes again, insistent. neither of you moves toward it. outside, a car passes, headlights sweeping through the blinds, washing both your faces in silver stripes. the moment stretches, taut as wire, waiting to snap.
his breath is right there, heavy and hot and the air between you stretched so thin it could tear, but you move first. you duck under his arm in a rush of perfume and laughter, slip out from between his body and the counter before he can catch you.
โheyโโ he starts, reaching.
youโre already out of reach, giggling, bare feet quick on the tile. the phone glows and you snatch it up like a prize, thumb swiping before he can protest. โwhatโs the worst that could happen, right?โ you sing, teasing in your voice.
he leans against the counter behind you, breathing out hard, watching you with that half-frustrated, half-hungry look he wears too easily.
โyouโre a fucking menace,โ he mutters.
โyou started it,โ you say without looking up, scrolling through the messages. gyomeiโs words are simple, gentle: i enjoyed seeing you tonight. you looked lovely. iโd like to take you somewhere quieter next time, if youโd like that.
you smile, soft. โsee? gentleman.โ
sanemi snorts. โyeah, all saints till they arenโt.โ
you turn toward him, back pressed to the edge of the table, grin still playing around your mouth. โyou sound jealous again.โ
he rolls his eyes, pushes off the counter, moving slow this time. โnah. just wondering how long itโs gonna take you to figure out you like trouble better.โ
you laugh, holding the phone out of his reach as he steps closer. โtrouble smells like motor oil and lies.โ
he smirks. โand yet youโre still standing here.โ
you lift your phone higher, giddy, light catching on the chain that hangs between your collarbones. โi might be.โ
he stops just short of you, enough that you can feel the heat rolling off him, eyes dropping to your mouth, then to the little screen that still glows in your hand. โso whatโs the message say, then?โ
you glance down, thumb hovering over the keyboard. โwouldnโt you like to know.โhe huffs a quiet laugh, shakes his head. โone day youโre gonna run out of room to run, you know that?โ
โmaybe,โ you say, smiling at the text, at the way his reflection shivers faintly in the glass of the window behind him. โbut not tonight.โ
you type back, quick: iโd like that. when? and hit send before he can see.
you hook a finger in his collar and tug him from the hallway into your room, the soft laugh in your throat barely hiding the thrum in your pulse. โyou staying over?โ
he drops onto your mattress like he owns it, knees spread, eyes dark. โyeah. might as well keep you out of trouble.โ
โplease.โ you grin, sliding open the closet. โhelp me pick something thatโll behave.โ
first you shrug on the knit midi, neckline polite, hem grazing shin. you step out, sway your hips. he tips his head, lazy. โchurch bake sale.โ
you peel it off right there, toss it aside. next a floral sweetheartโpuff sleeves, ribbons, hopes and dreams. you spin once. he clicks his tongue. โhonor roll ceremony. needs pearls.โ
you laugh, already unzipping, the floral puddling at your feet. black jersey slip follows, scooped low, grazing mid-thigh. you walk to the foot of the bed, let the chain between your breasts glitter under the lamp. his gaze drags slow, mouth parting.
โsit,โ he says, voice sand-rough.
you perch on his thigh. he tugs the hem lower, knuckles brushing the crease where fabric meets skin. heat flickers under your ribs. he tests the dress like itโs a fuse, slides one fingertip up until your inhale hitches, then snaps the elastic seam and shakes his head. โtoo much.โ
โyouโre the one lighting matches,โ you murmur, pulse racing.
next comes the red silk. bias-cut, backless. you step out and everything in him goes still, like prey scenting a trap. he stands, walks a circle around you, fingertips skimming the dip of your spine, never quite giving the pressure you want. โspin slower.โ
you do and the slit opens, high, higher. his hand cups your outer thigh, heat blooming up your side. โwear this and i will break every polite bone in my body,โ he says, breath against your neck.
โsounds fun,โ you whisper, but youโre already reaching for the hanger he hasnโt seen.
black halter, satin, knotted at your nape, slit cut mean. you shimmy in, leave the zipper half undone. โzip me?โ you ask, hands braced on the wall.
he steps in close, palms sliding up under the loose back until they rest at your ribs, thumbs brushing the swell beneath your bra. his mouth grazes the shell of your ear. โholding you together might be my new hobby.โ
goosebumps rises along your arms. he pulls the zipper slow, teeth scraping fabric, lips ghosting down your spine as the dress closes. when he finishes, he stays there, breath hot through the silk, hands framing your hips.
โwalk,โ he murmurs, stepping back.
you turn, take two slow strides. fabric parts, flashing thigh, the chain dancing at your sternum. his eyes track every sway, hunger slick in the low light.
โthis one,โ he says, voice almost ruined. โbut only if you swear those legs come home wrapped around my waist.โ
you bite a smile, tug the chain, and reach for the gloss. his gaze follows the wand to your mouth. โhelp me with earrings?โ
he closes the distance, fingers brushing your jaw as he hooks the studs in place, mouth a breath from yours, scent stirring heat low in your belly. your phone buzzes across the roomโgyomei, probablyโand neither of you flinch. his thumb drags over your bottom lip, glossy, slick.
โif you leave in that,โ he murmurs, tasting the flavor off his thumb, โdonโt expect me to stay on my side of the halo when you get back.โ
you smile, heart hammering, slip into your heels. โthen polish your halo now, nemi. i have picked my fit.โ
heโsย leaning against the doorframe when you reach behind you and pull the zipper down, the sound loud in the quiet of the room. the halter slips away from your shoulders, satin sighing as it slides to your ankles. you bend to scoop it up, hang it over the closet door, start sorting through hangers, the small clack of metal and fabric filling the air.
his eyes stay on you, heavy. you can feel them moving, tracing skin, following the slow stretch of your arm when you reach high for another hanger. the room smells faintly of your perfume, of soap and the soft hum of the air conditioning.
you glance over your shoulder, half-smile curling. โwhatโs your problem this time, nemi?โ
he doesnโt answer right away. his mouth works like heโs chewing on something he canโt spit out.
you step closer, still holding the dress. โwhat?โ you ask again, teasing. โcat got your tongue? or are you going to give me another lecture about how iโm supposed to act on my date?โ
he exhales through his nose, looks away, looks back. โitโs not a lecture.โ his voice is rough, lower than usual. โjust didnโt know youโd start doing wardrobe changes in front of me like i wasnโt even here.โ
you laugh, light and sharp. โyouโve seen worse.โ
โthatโs the problem,โ he says.
you raise a brow. โbecause iโm leaving to meet someone who actually wants to see me naked?โ
his gaze flicks to the floor, then back up. โbecause i keep forgetting iโm not supposed to look.โ
the words land between you, simple, hot. you swallow and hang the last hanger, fingers trembling just enough to betray you. you turn toward him, the question still half-formed on your tongue when he pushes off the doorframe, shoulders tight, the air between you thick with everything you keep pretending not to notice.
the tension breaks like it always does with the two of youโsharp, sudden, and ridiculous. later, maybe youโll think about the way he looked at you near the closet. maybe youโll replay the way his voice dipped when he said i keep forgetting iโm not supposed to look.
but for now, youโre back on the couch, legs curled under you, wrapped in a blanket and some unspoken agreement to pretend like none of it happened. the episode is halfway through, and he hasnโt said a word in ten minutes. his arm is along the back of the couch again, warm behind your neck, pinky brushing your shoulder like it means nothing.
you shift closer, innocent at first.
then your fingers twitch at his ribs.
โdonโt,โ he warns, voice low. you grin. โwhat?โ
โdonโt start.โ
you do.
he jerks once, the sound he makes halfway between a grunt and a laugh, swatting at your hand. โquit it.โ
โmake me.โ
you dive in again, both hands now, fingers digging into the sensitive spot just under his ribs and he jolts, actually laughs, loud and startled.
โfuck,โ he wheezes, trying to twist away, but youโre already crawling over him, straddling his hips, blanket falling off your shoulders as you pin his arms with your knees and go in for the kill.
โsay you surrender,โ you sing, fingers relentless.
heโs squirming, breath coming hard, actual laughter shaking his chestโdeep and wild, a sound you rarely hear from him. โyou littleโ stopโ*โ
you hit the spot again and he curses, tries to grab your wrists. โokay, okay, youโre doneโโ
โnot until you admit iโm stronger than you.โ
he barks a laugh. โnot in this fuckinโ life.โ
youโre both breathless now, hair messy, tangled in each other. his grip finds your waist, fingers flexing once, and thenโ
flip.
he surges up, muscles rippling beneath your legs, and in one clean motion, pins you under him. your back hits the cushions, a huff escaping your lungs as he settles between your knees, one hand catching your wrists above your head.
he leans in, voice smug and wrecked with leftover laughter. โyou picked the wrong guy.โ
you try to twist, but his free hand finds your side and tickles.
you squeal, immediately kicking, breath hiccupping into laughter as he gets you right under your ribs, under your arm, where he knows youโre weak.
โnemiโ! stopโ!โ
โoh no,โ he says, mock serious, โweโre committed now.โ
youโre laughing so hard you canโt breathe, squirming under him with your legs still wrapped tight around his hips, both of you a mess of tangled limbs and flushed cheeks and breathless curses.
he stops suddenly, both hands braced beside your head, breath coming fast. the air stills.
youโre still under him, laughing dying down, but the quiet creeps in as his eyes lock onto yours, your thighs locked around his waist, his breath brushing your cheek.
youโre both holding too still.
too close.
you blink up at him, chest rising. his eyes flick to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and he doesnโt move away. not yet. not even a little.
you yawn, the sound breaking the quiet. โokay,โ you mumble, still half-laughing, โiโm tired. get off me, nemi.โ
he doesnโt budge. one corner of his mouth tips up, breath still rough from laughing. โno.โ
you squint at him, voice slurring a little with amusement and exhaustion. โno?โ
โyou started this,โ he says, settling his weight just enough to make you squirm.
you groan, half-dramatic. โyouโre heavy.โ
โgood,โ he says, smug. โmaybe youโll learn.โ
you stare up at him for a beat, then your hands dart up fast, fingers digging under his ribs again.
he jerks like you hit a live wire. โdonโtโโ he wheezes, already laughing again.
โget off!โ you say between giggles, your hands finding every sensitive spot you discovered earlier.
he tries to block you, twists to the side, laughter shaking his chest again. โyouโreโimpossibleโโ
โsay it!โ you insist, still tickling, breathless now, both of you dissolving into laughter that fills the whole room.
he rolls, trying to trap your wrists, both of you a tangle of limbs and blanket and half-hearted curses. he manages to catch one of your hands, then the other, holding them tight. โyouโre gonna regret that,โ he says, eyes bright, grin breaking across his face.
โyeah?โ you say, breath hitching, hair a mess, cheeks warm. โprove it.โ
he laughs again, the sound low and rough, still breathless, and for a second the air between you softensโstill bright from laughter, but slower now, the kind of warmth that lives under everything you keep pretending isnโt there.
youโre still grinning, eyes half-lidded. โget off me, nemi,โ you say again, voice quieter this time.
he shakes his head, resting his forehead against the couch cushion beside your ear. โno,โ he murmurs, still catching his breath. โnot until you promise youโre done tickling.โ
you smile, the kind of tired, small smile that feels too real. โfine. i promise.โ
he hums, releases your wrists, and finally rolls off, both of you breathless and wrecked with leftover laughter. you pull the blanket up and he stretches out beside you like heโs been there forever, still muttering about how you cheat, your laugh fading into a soft hum that fills the quiet.
you tuck the blanket around yourself, still catching your breath, the last of the laughter curling soft in your chest. the tvโs gone to a low hum, flickering blues across the room. heโs sprawled beside you, one arm thrown over his eyes, breathing even again.
you shift, glance at him sideways. โso,โ you murmur, voice a little hoarse from laughing, โwhere do you want to sleep, nemi? my bed or the couch?โ
he slides his arm down just enough to look at you, eyes half-lidded, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. โthat a real question?โ
โitโs called being polite.โ you stretch your legs out, bump his knee. โguest choice.โ he huffs a quiet laugh. โyou think iโm fitting on the couch? the thingโs built for barbie dolls.โ
โthen the floor?โ you tease.
he sits up a little, scrubbing a hand through his hair, grin crooked. โyouโd like that, wouldnโt you. me on the floor, you up in the fancy bed.โ
โmaybe,โ you say, leaning your head against the cushion. โyou snore.โ
โlies.โ he yawns, long and low. โyou drool.โ
you laugh, flicking his arm. โso what, bed then?โ
he looks toward the hallway, then back at you. โbed,โ he says finally, tone easy, like itโs obvious. โbut iโm staying on top of the blanket. you can have your side, princess.โ
you roll your eyes, push yourself up, and the two of you shuffle down the hall in comfortable silence. he kicks off his shirt before sliding in, muttering something about how your comforter weighs too much, and you slide under it on your side, facing the window.
the room goes quiet except for the faint sound of traffic outside. his arm brushes your shoulder once, accidental, then stays still.
โyou good?โ he asks softly.
โyeah.โ you breathe out a small laugh. โyou?โ
โyeah,โ he says again, already half-gone to sleep.
you smile into the dark, eyes closing, the warmth of him bleeding through the blanket between you.
morning leaks through the blinds in thin stripes, warm against your cheek. you blink, stretch, the sheets soft around your legs, and turn your head without thinking.
heโs there. sprawled on his back, hair a mess, one arm thrown over the pillow you didnโt end up using. his mouth is slack, the faintest curve of a snore ghosting out when he exhales.
you stare for a second too long. the light hits him unfairly, catches on the white line of a scar by his temple, softens the hard edges he wears all day.
for a heartbeat, you think, he looksโ
then you stop yourself.
what the hell am i doing admiring this strayโs face.
you laugh under your breath, quiet so you donโt wake him, and slip out of bed. the floor is cool under your feet, the air smells faintly of him and sleep. you pad to the kitchen, flick the stove on, and start pulling things out of the fridgeโeggs, bread, whatever you can find.
the sizzle of the pan fills the quiet. you hum to yourself, still grinning at how ridiculous it all feels. every now and then you glance toward the hallway, half expecting him to appear, half hoping he stays asleep long enough for you to finish.
you pour the eggs in, watch them bloom yellow in the pan. itโs domestic in a way that makes your chest tighten and you shake your head, muttering, โthis is so stupid,โ but you keep cooking anyway.
youโre sliding the last bit of eggs off the pan when you hear itโlow, half-awake grumbling from down the hall. itโs the sound he makes every time he realizes heโs not in his own bed, something between confusion and complaint. you snort under your breath and reach for another plate.
heโs going to need more than you, always does. you pile an extra egg, two more slices of toast, the end of the bacon. protein for the musclehead, you think, grinning.
the floorboards creak and you glance over your shoulder.
heโs standing in the doorway, hair sticking up in every direction, squinting against the light. underwear only. broad shoulders, chest marked with old scars, stomach cut into muscle that moves like it was carved by a god. he rubs the back of his neck, still blinking sleep out of his eyes.
for a second you just stare.
your brain short-circuits into a loop of holy shits, before it remembers itself. you cough, turn back to the counter, fumble with the spatula like itโs suddenly fascinating.
โmorning,โ he mutters, voice gravel-rough.
โuh-huh,โ you manage, still facing the stove. โyou hungry?โ he pads closer, the air shifting warmer. โsmells good.โ
โmade you extra,โ you say, trying to sound normal. โbodybuilder metabolism and all that.โ he snorts, leaning on the counter beside you. โso you admit i look good?โ
you risk a glance upโbad idea. heโs grinning, that sleepy-smug kind of grin that makes the scar near his mouth pull just right. your eyes dart away again.
โi admit nothing,โ you mumble, as you carry the plates to the couch, mugs of coffee balanced between your fingers, and drop onto the cushion beside him. the tvโs off; the only sound is the soft hum of the city outside.
he chuckles, low in his chest. โsure.โ he picks up the fork, starts eating like he hasnโt in days. you follow suit, trying not to notice the way his abs tighten every time he reaches for the salt, or how the morning light cuts a golden edge over his skin.
โyouโre staring,โ he says without looking up. โiโm thinking,โ you correct, deadpan. โabout how i let a half-naked stray into my kitchen.โ
he laughs, the sound warm and easy. โand yet you keep feeding me.โ you roll your eyes, hiding the small smile that threatens to give you away. โyeah, yeah. eat your breakfast.โ
you nudge his knee with yours. โso whatโs the plan today, nemi?โ
he takes a swallow of coffee before answering, voice still rough with sleep. โgot a client this afternoon. should only take a couple hours.โ
you perk up, a grin sliding across your face. โfinally. my strayโs actually going home.โ he shoots you a look over the rim of his mug. โreal funny.โ
you laugh, kicking his shin lightly. โhey, someoneโs gotta remind you youโre a guest and not a squatter.โ he shrugs, leaning back into the couch. โif you stop feeding me, i might remember that.โ
โnever gonna happen,โ you say, waving him off, setting your empty plate on the table.
he glances sideways at you, smirking. โthat an invitation or a threat?โ
โboth,โ you say, then yawn and stretch, settling deeper into the cushions. โcome back after your thing, though.โ
he pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. โwhy?โ
โso we can, i donโt knowโfinish the show, make dinner, do whatever.โ you wave a hand, like itโs no big deal, but the words sound too easy, too familiar. โyou know. continue our day.โ
his eyes flick to you, unreadable for a second. โour day?โ he repeats, slow, like heโs tasting the phrase.
you feel the heat crawl up your neck. โdonโt.. say it like that. you make it soundโโ
โdomestic?โ he supplies, that smug half-grin back again. โgross,โ you say quickly, kicking him again.
he laughs, low and real this time,. โfine. iโll come back.โ โ โgood,โ you say, looking anywhere but at him.
he leans in just a little, voice dropping. โdidnโt sound like a request, by the way.โ you roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself. โshut up and finish your eggs.โ
he does, still grinning, while the two of you sit in the easy quiet that always fills the room after the teasingโs run out, warm and stupidly comfortable in a way neither of you bothers to question.
laterย
you had decided to take a bath while he was gone. steam clings to the edges of the mirror, softening your reflection to a blur. you sink deeper into the water, stretching your legs, bubbles brushing your skin. the bath is hot, bordering on scalding, and you let your head tip back, eyes half-closed, letting the quiet soak in.
it never lasts. not when your brain is always busy, always circling back to him.
sanemi, with his impossible arms and that stubborn scowl. the way he makes your life a messโtracking metaphoric mud in, picking fights, eating you out of house and home. but god, heโs hot. you picture the line of muscle along his stomach, the cut of his jaw, that laugh when you tickle him just right. and then you roll your eyes at yourself, sinking a little lower until the water almost covers your ears. heโs a hindrance, you think. a stray, a pest. you canโt get anything done when heโs around, he eats all your leftovers, he leaves his shirts on your floor. youโre an adult, you donโt need someone orbiting your world just because he makes you laugh until your ribs ache and sometimes, at night, looks at you like he wants to ruin your whole universe.
your hand drifts lower, lazy, skimming bubbles and slick skin. you reach for your toy, lips parting with anticipation as you sink deeper, letting yourself forget everything but sensation. the hum is low, sweet between your thighs. you gasp, head falling back against the tile, hips shifting with each pulse. the head of your wand hitting just right, the steam, the sound, the memory of sanemiโs hands on youโeverything collides.
you get louder than you mean to, breathy moans echoing off tile. every sound sharper, every wave hotter, your body curling as you chase the edge until you finally break, shuddering in the water, back arching, bubbles scattering.
you blink, heart pounding, chest heaving, heat painting your skin.
itโs only then that you notice the faint static soundโsoft, familiar, like voices muffled through a wall.
the tv. the living room.
you freeze, blood running cold. oh fuck.
heโs here. the question burrows deep and mean into your chestโhow long has he been here?
the thought tangles through your body, your breath catching for a different reason as you stare at the bathroom door, the reality of your stray somewhere just on the other side, and the echo of your own voice still ringing in your ears.
you wrap yourself in the biggest towel you can find, tucking it tight under your arms, your skin still flushed from the heat and something else you donโt want to name. you listen at the door for a second, heart drumming hard, but all you hear is the sound of the tv and a crinkling bagโtakeout, probably. your stomach twists.
you open the door slow, steam swirling out around your ankles, and step into the hallway. sanemi is sprawled on the couch, a takeout bag open on the table, chopsticks already working on a container of noodles. he glances up, eyes dragging over you, towel and bare shoulders and wet hair dripping down your collarbone. his mouth curls into a slow, knowing grin.
โnice towel,โ he says, voice lazy and full of trouble. โbath treat you good?โ you blink, playing dumb. โjust needed to relax.โ he hums, eyes gleaming, leans back with all the smug confidence of a man who knows exactly what he heard. โyeah? sounded like you were fighting for your life in there.โ
you flush hot, tug the towel higher. โdoorโs thin, you know.โ he pops a noodle into his mouth, chewing slow, gaze never leaving yours. โdidnโt realize a bath could make someone soโฆvocal.โ
you shoot him a glare, cheeks on fire. โkeep talking and youโre eating in the hall.โ
he grins wider, tapping his chopsticks against the lid. โthat an invitation or a threat?โ
โshut up, nemi,โ you mutter, but you canโt quite keep the laughter out of your voice.
he just winks, tosses a fortune cookie onto your plate, and pats the spot beside him. โcโmon, towel girl. foodโs getting cold.โ
you roll your eyes, but the heat in your chest lingers as you cross the room, sinking beside him on the couch, towel and all, the faint echo of your own voice mingling with the sound of his low, satisfied laughter.
itโs late, that soft kind of quiet where you should be doing anything else but scrolling. the light from your phone paints your thighs blue. youโre in the kitchen, still in shorts, hair half-up, coffee cooling on the counter. the moon through the window makes everything silver, including the curve of your back when you lean forward to reach for the mug.
you take the photo without thinking โ reflection in the glass, the sweep of your legs, nothing too much, just enough. caption: late night caffeine crisis.
you post it. forget about it.
it takes him seven minutes.
a notification slides up: nemi replied to your story.
what the hell are you doing posting that at this hour.
you grin, thumb already moving. drinking coffee, obviously.
a pause. the typing bubble appears, disappears, returns.
you know what i mean.
no clue, you reply, sweet. elaborate?
that picture.
you donโt like it?
thatโs not the point.
then what is?
this time, a photo comes through โ your post screenshotted, his cursor circled around the curve of your backside, followed by his message: delete it before someone else sees whatโs mine to complain about.
you laugh out loud, half-shocked, half-thrilled. possessive much?
realistic, he shoots back. you knew what you were doing when you took that angle.
what angle? you type, pretending innocence, biting your lip.
the one thatโs going to get me in trouble, he answers.
you send him a winking emoji, close your phone, and take another slow sip of coffee, warmth curling low in your stomach as you think about how easy it is to wind him up without even trying.
when he tells you, itโs casual โ tossed out between bites of takeout. โhousewarming thing this weekend,โ he says, like itโs an errand. โkanae and douma. youโre coming.โ
you almost drop your utensil. โkanae? as in your kanae?โ he sighs. โnot my kanae.โ
โuh-huh,โ you hum, already smirking. โthe kanae who makes you go all quiet when she walks into a room? the kanae you crushed on in, what, 2015?โ he rolls his eyes. โyouโre insufferable.โ
โand yet you invited me,โ you sing, leaning back. โshould i wear something pretty? or something thatโll make her nervous?โ
โdonโt start,โ he warns, but the twitch in his jaw gives him away. โoh, iโm starting.โ you lean your chin on your hand, watching him with a grin that could kill. โwhat if she thinks weโre dating? should i hold your hand? sit in your lap? ooh, should i call you babe?โ
โdonโt evenโโ
โbabe,โ you interrupt, dragging the word out, tasting it.
he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. โyouโre going to make this a nightmare.โ
โiโm going to make it memorable,โ you correct, eyes gleaming. โbesides, arenโt you curious what sheโll say when she sees me on your arm?โ he glances at you then, and for a second, something shifts in his expression โ that tight, quiet thing he never admits to. โyouโre something,โ he says finally then looks away, fighting a smile. โjustโdonโt cause a scene.โ
โme? never.โ โโyou,โ he says, dead serious. โexactly you.โ
you sip your drink, already thinking about outfits, already picturing the party โ kanaeโs perfect smile, doumaโs too-friendly eyes, and sanemi somewhere behind you, trying not to combust while you make sure everyone remembers that you clean up beautifully.
the drive over is all small talk and static. youโre in something soft, easyโlinen that falls just right, sleeves rolled to your elbows, a neckline that dips enough to catch the evening light. he doesnโt say anything about it, but you catch him looking once at a stoplight, jaw tight, eyes flicking back to the road too fast.
kanaeโs place glows warm when you walk in, laughter spilling through the open door. sheโs already there waiting, bright and perfect, her hair pulled up in that careless way that never looks careless. you hug herโshe smells like peonies and summer wineโand she smiles like she means it, squeezes your hand. โiโm so glad you came,โ she says, and you nod, mean it, but your eyes flick past her before you can help it.
sanemiโs by the kitchen counter with douma, already caught in one of those too-loud exchanges. when kanae calls to him, he turns, and you see itโhis whole face softening for half a second. not romantic, maybe, but gentle in a way that guts you.
something in your chest tightens. ridiculous, really. you laugh at yourself under your breath, brush a hand over your hair. itโs nothing. you knew this. itโs always been this.
kanae pulls you into the group, introducing you to people you half-recognize. you smile, chat, sip whateverโs handed to you. sanemi keeps orbiting close, close enough that you can feel him there even when heโs talking to someone else, close enough that you can see his eyes slide toward kanae when she laughs.
you shouldnโt care. you donโt, you tell yourself. youโre just here to tease him, to play the game you both built. but itโs hard to make a joke when your heartโs doing that awful squeeze, when the part of you that loves being around him suddenly hates the idea of him looking at anyone else like that.
you lift your drink, force a grin, and find your voice. โso,โ you say lightly, leaning toward him when he finally drifts back to you, โyou gonna tell her how much you missed her, or should i?โ
he gives you a lookโhalf a glare, half a plea not to startโand you swallow the sting under your tongue, hide it behind your smile.
the sound of the door opening cuts through the low hum of chatter and laughter, and you turn instinctively, your smile already polite. then you see him.
gyomei. taller than you remembered, shoulders filling the doorway, warmth following him in like he brought the sunlight with him. he smiles when his eyes find yoursโsoft, genuine, that same calm gravity that drew you in the first time.
you feel the heat climb up your neck before you can stop it. a quiet, traitorous flutter under your ribs. you set your glass down and start toward him, smoothing your shirt like it matters. โhey,โ you say, the word coming out lighter than you meant. โyou made it.โ
โof course,โ he says, voice low and gentle. โi wasnโt going to miss seeing everyone. you lookโฆโ he trails off for half a beat, eyes kind, โโฆwell.โ
you laugh under your breath, brushing a strand of hair back. โso do you.โ
the room seems to fade a little at the edgesโthe chatter, the clinking glasses, the sound of kanaeโs laughter drifting from the kitchen. for a heartbeat itโs just you and him standing by the door, the faint scent of rain still clinging to his coat, the warmth of his hand when he shakes yours lingering a second too long.
from across the room, you can feel sanemiโs gaze. heavy, sharp, unreadable.
you donโt look right away. you keep your eyes on gyomei, ask him something about how heโs been, how workโs treating him, but your pulse wonโt settle. because even while youโre smiling, part of you can sense itโthe weight of that stare from the other side of the party, the quiet thrum of someone who suddenly doesnโt find this game funny anymore.
you wait until the chatter thickens again, until kanae and douma are laughing about something by the bar, and then you tug gently at gyomeiโs sleeve. โhey,โ you murmur, โcan we talk outside for a second?โ
he follows you to the quiet edge of the garden, where the air smells like mint and damp stone. soft music drifts out through the open windows. you twist your fingers together, feeling clumsy under his steady calm.
โi just wanted to say,โ you start, words tumbling, โiโm really sorry if i gave you the wrong idea. i didnโt mean to lead you on or make it weird. youโreโฆ really good company. i justโโ he watches you with that patient half-smile, the one that makes you feel both safe and seen. โyouโre interested in someone else,โ he finishes gently.
your breath catches. โyeah.โ you laugh quietly, awkward. โguess itโs obvious?โ
โnot really,โ he says, shaking his head, โbut it makes sense.โ he pauses, gaze soft. โsanemi?โ you blink. โoh?โ your voice goes higher than you mean. โhowโd you deduce that?โ
his smile widens, the edges kind. โhe talks about you a lot,โ he says simply. โeven when heโs pretending not to.โ the words hit you like a slow sunriseโwarm, creeping under your skin. you look away, laugh under your breath. โdoes he now?โ
โhe does,โ gyomei says, hands folded in his pockets. โitโs usually in the form of complaints, but he talks about you all the same. since you became friends.โ
you shake your head, smiling at the ground. โthat sounds like him.โ he nods once. โheโs the only one iโve seen glare at his phone like it insulted him.โ
you both laugh softly, the sound easy. he pats your shoulder, a quiet benediction. โitโs alright,โ he says. โiโm glad you told me.โ
โthank you for being kind about it.โ he nods again, eyes warm. โbe kind to yourself too,โ he says, then glances toward the house. โheโs inside, you know.โ
you circle the edge of the living room, glass in hand, half-searching, half-trying to steady the beat in your chest. the crowdโs thinned a littleโpeople scattered between the patio and the kitchenโbut you hear him before you see him.
his voice, lower than usual, roughened to something careful. โโjust wanted to say sorry,โ heโs saying. โfor her being weird at the last thing. she didnโt mean it. sheโs justโโ
you stop near the archway, hidden by the plant kanaeโs sister probably gave her, the soft thread of her voice following. โitโs alright, sanemi. i thought it wasโฆ kind of sweet, actually.โ
your breath catches. โsweet?โ he echoes, startled, the sound of a laugh that doesnโt know where to go.
โyou always were easy to read,โ she says, voice gentle. โi knew you liked me back then.โ
you can almost hear the silence between themโheavy, full of old nerves. he clears his throat, words tripping. โyeah, iโuhโyeah. i did. i mean, who wouldnโt, right?โ
she laughs softly, the sound of it twisting something small in your chest. โyou were always so honest, sanemi. i liked you, too. butโฆ you know how things turned out.โ
โdouma,โ he says quietly.
โyeah.โ her voice warms with something soft and final. โhe makes me happy. he really does.โ
โgood,โ sanemi says after a long moment, and itโs quiet, unconvincing.
you stand there for another breath you donโt mean to take, staring at the doorway, the edges of the world blurring. you donโt know if youโre more relieved that she said in the past or more stung by the part of him that still sounds 2015, still standing under her window with all that clumsy wanting.
you swallow, fix your expression into something neutral, and step forward into the room like you didnโt hear a thing, smile already ghosting back onto your face. you tell yourself it doesnโt matter. that itโs ancient history, that what you overheard was just two people closing a door that shouldโve been shut years ago. but your chest aches anyway, that stupid tight ache that creeps in under your chest when youโre not paying attention. you can feel it swelling, heavy, stubborn. you press your nails into your palm and keep walking.
the noise of the party folds around you againโmusic, laughter, clinking glasses. kanae catches your eye, smiles like nothingโs out of place, and you smile back, too wide, too practiced. sanemi joins you after a while, his hand ghosting against your elbow when he brushes past, and you swear you can still hear her voice echoing under his.
you drink more than you mean to. laugh when you should. talk about nothing with people you barely know, pretending your stomach isnโt knotted, pretending you donโt notice the way he glances at you like heโs trying to read something in your silence.
eventually itโs late enough to leave. the drive back is a blur of streetlights and shallow music. he keeps looking over, opens his mouth once or twice, doesnโt speak.
you stare out the window, jaw tight, grinding your teeth so hard your temples ache. the city slips by in streaks of gold and gray, and the words you wonโt say sit heavy on your tongue: why does it even matter? why does it feel like this? you rest your head against the glass, pretending youโre tired. he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, quiet.
the space between you hums with all the things you wonโt admit, and the only sound that fills it is the low growl of the engine, carrying you both home through the thick, unspoken quiet.
you unlock the door to your place, the lights still half-on, the air too still. your shoes come off in slow, dragging movements. โโnight,โ you mumble, not looking at him. he nods, or maybe he doesnโtโyou donโt check.
the floor creak under your weight. once the bedroom door clicks shut behind you, you let out a sigh that sounds too much like a groan, pressing your forehead to the wood for a beat before pushing away. your reflection in the dark window looks like someone else; your eyes are glossy, your smile gone.
youโre halfway to unzipping your dress when the knock comes. three soft raps, unsure.
you freeze, then roll your eyes at the ceiling. โwhat,โ you call, flat, trying to keep your voice even. โyou okay?โ his voice filters through, rough, cautious.
you stare at the knob, throat tight. โyeah,โ you say after a second, too quick. โjust drunk out of my mind, i think.โ
thereโs a pause. the sound of him shifting his weight outside. โyou donโt sound drunk,โ he says quietly.
โthatโs โcause iโm very, very functional,โ you shoot back, forcing a laugh that sounds more like air leaving a balloon. โgo home, nemi.โ
you can almost hear him thinking on the other side, the small scrape of his thumb against the doorframe. then, softly, โright. night, then.โ
his footsteps retreat down the hall, slow.
you exhale, lean back against the door until your knees hit the carpet. โdrunk,โ you whisper to yourself, the lie echoing small in the quiet. the hum of the street outside fills the space he leaves behind, and you sit there listening to it until itโs the only thing that keeps your chest from shaking.
the next few days slide by the way ordinary days always do: alarm, shower, coffee. work. errands, noise, the sun on your back. you smile when you should, laugh when people expect it. from the outside, everything looks fineโnormal even.
inside, that small ache sits quiet under your chest again, a dull weight you keep busy enough to ignore. you work later than usual. you take longer routes home. you tell yourself itโs just the aftermath of too much wine and a night that hit too many nerves.
sanemi texts like he always does.
you alive?
you eat yet?
show me youโre not dead.
you keep your replies light. busy. errands. maybe later.
he calls once; you let it ring out, thumb hovering over decline until it stops. when he drops by unannounced, you answer the door with a towel on your head and some half-truth about a deadline, about being exhausted, about not wanting him to catch whatever โcoldโ you swear youโre fighting off.
he squints at you, unimpressed. โsince when do you get sick?โ
โsince i started talking to you,โ you shoot back with a grin that doesnโt reach your eyes. he narrows his, but lets it go. โfine. iโll bring soup tomorrow.โ
โno, reallyโโ
โtoo late. see you then.โ
he leaves before you can argue more, and you shut the door, lean against it, breathing out a curse under your breath.
by the third day, the questions get sharper.
โyouโve been weird lately.โ
โsomething happen?โ
โyou mad at me or just forget how to text?โ
you smile each time, the kind of practiced, easy smile thatโs saved you from a hundred awkward conversations before. โnah. just tired, nemi.โ but he isnโt buying it anymore. you see it in the set of his jaw, the way his messages get shorter, the way he lingers near your door a little too long when he drops something off.
you keep dodging anyway. because every time he looks at you with those eyesโworried, confused, a little too openโyou feel that same ache twist deeper, sharper, like itโs asking you to say something you donโt have the courage to name.
youโre halfway through pretending to nap on the couch when the lock clicks. your eyes snap open just in time to see the door swing wide, the faint jingle of his keychain hitting the doorknob.
you sit up fast, blanket sliding off your legs. โwhat theโnemi!โ
he stands in the doorway holding a plastic bag that smells like dinner, brows furrowed, eyes scanning you head to toe. no fever, no cough, no blanket fort of tissues. just you, alive and annoyed.
โso,โ he says, voice low, โyou lied.โ you roll your eyes, reaching for your phone. โyou canโt just break in, you psycho.โ โ โspare.key.โ he shoots back, stepping inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. โyou gave it to me.โ
โyeah, for emergencies, not for whatever this is.โ
โthis is an emergency,โ he says, dropping the bag on the counter. โyou disappearing for a week and feeding me bullshit about being sick.โ
you cross your arms. โi wasnโt feeling great.โ โ โbullshit.โ his voice sharpens. โyou look fine.โ
โthanks for the compliment,โ you snap. โdonโt twist it.โ
โthen stop acting like my parole officer.โ โ โthen stop acting like you donโt know why iโm pissed off.โ the words hang between you, sharp and heavy. the silence after is worseโfilled with all the things youโre both avoiding.
you sigh, push to your feet, glare at him. โi donโt need you barging in here like you own the place, nemi. youโre not my boyfriend.โ
for a second, he just stares at you, the words hitting harder than either of you expect. his jaw flexes, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, and that flicker of hurt flashes in his eyes before it sharpens into something meaner, something to hide behind.
โyeah,โ he says finally, voice low, rough. โno shit.โ he laughs once, short and humorless. โtrust me, sweetheart, if i was, you wouldnโt be scrollinโ tinder in the first place.โ
he runs a hand through his hair, pacing once, too restless to stand still, then turns back to you, eyes glinting under the kitchen light. โbut you sure as hell donโt act like iโm not,โ he adds, quieter, the words landing heavy between you again.
you open your mouth to answer, but heโs already looking away, shaking his head like heโs trying to swallow whatever else he was about to say. โyeah,โ he mutters, half to himself, โiโm not your boyfriend. got it.โ
the air crackles, both of you standing too close now, breath fast, anger curling under something else entirely.ย
his jaw works, voice quieter now, tight. โthen tell me why youโve been avoiding me.โ
you look away, heart beating too fast, throat tight. โiโm just tired, nemi.โ
โof me?โ you flinch before you can stop it, and his eyes soften for half a second, all that frustration bending into something like more hurt.
you bite your lip, reach for your coffee cup just to have something to do with your hands. โgo home, nemi.โ he exhales, long and rough, the sound full of things he doesnโt say. โfine,โ he mutters, grabbing his bag from the counter.
you donโt look up until the door clicks behind him, and even then, your chest aches worse than when he walked in.
a week buys you nothing. you keep moving through it anyway. work. laundry. a playlist that skips every song that sounds like him. you answer texts late. you turn your phone face down. when he calls, you stare at his name until it stops ringing.
the lock turns. you sit up too fast on the couch, blanket sliding to your ankles. โnemi, i swear to god.โ
he shuts the door with his heel and tosses his keys on the counter like a gauntlet. shirt clinging from the cold, jaw set ugly, eyes gone dark. thereโs food again, but he doesnโt even look at it. it crinkles in his grip like a neck he wants to wring.
โa week,โ he says, voice low. โyou give me silence for a week and think iโm just gonna sit with my thumbs up my ass.โ you roll your eyes because if you donโt, youโll break. โyou canโt keep using my spare like itโs a hall pass.โ
โyou gave it to me!โ he snaps. โyou said use it if i ever needed to. i need to!โ
โfor what. to argue in my living room?โ
โto see you,โ he throws back, louder now. โto figure out why youโre ghosting me like i didnโt just spend months glued to your hip.โ
your laugh comes out thin. โmaybe i wanted space.โ he steps in, heat rolling off him. โyou wanted distance and you didnโt say from what. from me or from the truth.โ
you square your shoulders. โdonโt try to therapy me.โ
โthen talk to me.โ
โi am talking.โ
โyouโre hiding,โ he says, and something in his voice frays. โyou think i donโt notice the way you duck my calls. the way you text like an intern. the way you breathe like youโre trying not to be heard in your own apartment.โ
you look at the far wall like it might offer mercy. โgo home, nemi.โ
he laughs, harsh. โno.โ
โyou donโt get to say no.โ
โi do when itโs about us.โ
โthere is no us,โ you fire back, and it hits both of you like a slap.
he goes very still. then, softer, deadly steady, โwhy did that feel like a lie when you said it.โ your mouth opens. shuts. you move to the kitchen just to move, palm flat on the cool counter. he follows, slower now, hands braced on either side of you like heโs caging himself in as much as you.
โyou wanna be honest?โ you say, too bright. โfine. i heard you and kanae.โ
the words land. his eyes flicker. โwhen?โ
โhousewarming. hallway.ย you apologized for me. she said she knew. she liked you too. past tense. happy with douma.โ you swallow. โand my stupid chest did a thing i didnโt know it could do.โ
he flinches like the truth has teeth. โyou were there.โ
โi left,โ you lie, because you didnโt. you listened. โit shouldnโt matter. it was years ago. but you looked at her and i felt small. and i hate feeling small.โ
his throat works. he steps closer, careful, crowding without touching. โi was closing a door.โ
โlooked open from where i stood.โ
โyou werenโt standing anywhere,โ he says, gentle and furious at once. โyou were hiding behind a plant making yourself bleed on a story that ended before it started. i liked her. yes. i was young and stupid and she was kind. thatโs it.โ
โyou went soft when she laughed.โ
โi go soft when you breathe,โ he says, and the room tilts. you stare at him. he doesnโt blink. โi apologized for you,โ he adds, quieter now, โbecause youโre mine to defend even when you say youโre not.โ
your laugh cracks. โthere it is. the possessive. you donโt even want me, you want to guard a door.โ
his jaw knots. โi want you like a problem i canโt stop solving. i want you like a habit i donโt want to quit. i want you in my hoodie and in my bed and in my bad moods and in my good ones and at my stupid table eating the stupid eggs you pretend you donโt love.โ he inhales, rough. โi donโt want to be your damn โstrayโ. i want to be your man.โ
your heart climbs into your mouth and kicks there. โyouโre late.โ
โiโm here,โ he says. โand iโm not leaving because youโre scared.โ you push at his chest because itโs easier than saying yes, โdonโt tell me what i am.โ
he catches your wrists, not hard, just anchoring. โthen tell me what you are.โ
โannoyed,โ you bite out. โtired. confused.โ
โand jealous,โ he says.
you glare. โof who.โ โ โof a ghost that never learned your name.โ
you look away, blinking hard because heat is licking at your eyes and you refuse to let it fall. โyou donโt get to make me feel crazy for feeling anything.โ
โiโm not,โ he says, harsh, and then softer, โiโm telling you i feel it too. every time you text another review. every time you look past me. every time i hear bathwater and a noise i want to be the reason for.โ
โnemi,โ you warn, voice shaky. โchoose me,โ he says, and itโs not pretty at all. โi know that sounds greedy. i know i donโt say things right. but choose me and i will spend every day trying to deserve you.โ
silence. the kind that buzzes. the kind that stretches tight and hot.
you pull your wrists free. he lets you. your fingers find the chain at your sternum and toy with it just to have something to do. his eyes track the movement.
โwhat if you break me,โ you whisper. โthen iโll fix what i broke,โ he says, simple and brutal. โand if you break me, then youโll fix what you broke.โ
you laugh, a helpless sound. โyouโre a disaster.โ โ โso are you,โ he says, and one corner of his mouth tips up like he canโt help it. โwe already match.โ
he reaches past you and kills the kitchen light. the apartment falls into that soft, blue hour dark. the distance between you feels smaller here. his voice drops into it.
โtell me to go and i will. tell me to stay and i will. just stop pretending you donโt care either way.โ your phone buzzes on the counter. you donโt look. he doesnโt either. heโs waiting, shoulders squared like a man bracing for a hit, hands empty like heโs finally learned not to grab.
you breathe, slow. the ache in your chest shifts, not gone, but different. you can taste the next choice on your tongue, stupid and sweet, the kind of risk that feels like standing at the edge of a pool in summer, heat at your back, water waiting.
you lift your chin. he leans in a fraction, caught there, eyes on your mouth. the takeout bag sighs again in the quiet, the promise of something warm cooling by the minute while the space between you goes electric and holdable, the whole room perched on what you say next.
you look at him like youโre searing the moment into your skinโlike every inch of him matters, every shadow and line and scar, all at once. itโs the kind of stare that makes your cheeks burn. the kind of stare that pins him to the spot, makes his next breath stutter loud in the dark.
he doesnโt ask for permission. his hand finds your waist, palm broad and sure, pulling you flush against him. you yelp, half-surprised, half-shy, your fingers caught between the two of you. the sudden heat of his body short-circuits whatever protest you almost had.
your blush goes up to your ears. โsanemiโโ his grip firms, but not rough, just anchoring. โlook at me.โ
you try, but your eyes flick awayโfirst to the countertop, then to the takeout, then to the slice of streetlight leaking in at the edge of the blinds. his other hand tips your chin, thumb ghosting the line of your jaw. โlook at me,โ he repeats, softer this time.
you do for a second, then the nerves trip you up, eyes darting down to his mouth, away to his collarbone, anywhere but the storm in his gaze. he laughs, low and almost fond, breath brushing your cheek. โthought you were the bold one,โ he teases.
you grumble, not trusting your voice. โi usually am.โ his smile is small, patient. โscared?โ
โyes,โ you admit, voice trembling. his forehead drops to yours, breath slow and warm. โme too,โ he confesses, so quiet only you can hear it.
your hands wind into his shirt just to steady yourself. he noses along your jaw, soft, as if youโre the only thing heโs ever wanted to touch. every time you look away, he follows, keeps tilting your face back to him until youโre forced to meet his eyesโbright, hungry, gentle, all at once.
โstay,โ he murmurs, not a command, not a pleaโjust a hope laid bare. your chest aches in that new, dizzy way. you bite your lip, nodding, heart thudding wild beneath his touch.
the street outside is silent. your kitchen has never felt so small, or so infinite. in this light, neither of you look away. your nerves crack just enough for you to joke, voice breathless and shaky. โwell, iโm stayingโobviously. itโs my apartment.โ
he grins, sharp and hungry. โsmartass,โ he mutters, and before you can protest, his hands slide lower, grip sure around your hips.
he lifts you like you weigh nothing, your feet leaving the floor, a surprised yelp spilling out of you as your hands grab at his shoulders for balance. you twist in his arms, laughing now, the nerves turning electric as he carries you down the hallway, bumping the doorframe with his elbow like youโre both drunk on the moment.
โnemiโput me downโโ he just shakes his head, the smile never leaving his lips, โnot a chance.โ
the bedroom is dim and quiet, sheets half-made, pillows tossed. he lays back on the bed with you sprawled on top of him, your knees bracketing his hips, your hands pressed to his chest for balance.
he lets you settle, his palms finding your thighs, holding you there. โsee?โ he says, voice low, gaze bright. โtold you i wasnโt leaving.โ
your cheeks burn, your heart racing as you shift on top of him, feeling the way his muscles tense and relax beneath your touch. โyeah, well,โ you breathe, your voice softer, โguess youโre my problem now.โ
he laughs, hands tightening, like he means to keep you here forever. โalways have been,โ he says, eyes never leaving yours, โand youโre mine.โ
the weight of everything unspoken settles between youโhot, alive, dizzy with promise. the sheets shift beneath you as you both settle, still a little tangled, still laughing in the hush between words. his hands curve around your thighs, steady and warm, but the wildest part is how gentle his eyes are. they move over your faceโyour flushed cheeks, your bitten lip, the shimmer at the corners of your eyes from laughter or nerves, he canโt tell.
you hold his gaze, knees braced on either side of his hips, breath slowing, all the noise of the world slipping away until itโs just him and you and the blue-dark hush of your room. his thumb traces a lazy circle at the dip of your waist. โlook at you,โ he murmurs, voice gone low, almost shy. โnever figured iโd get this lucky.โ his eyes dip to your mouth, then back to your eyes, linger there like itโs the only place he wants to be.
your heart is a frantic thing in your chest. โyouโre so sappy,โ you whisper, but thereโs no bite to it. he shakes his head, mouth curving, eyes softer than youโve ever seen. โnah. not sappy. justโฆ honest.โ he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows, bringing you closer until your noses almost touch. โi love you,โ he says, no theatrics, no smirkโjust plain, like itโs the only true thing left in the world. โbeen in love with you since you made fun of me at that awful ramen place. probably before that.โ
you blink, stunned by how steady his voice is. the air feels thick, charged. your hand finds his jaw, thumb tracing the sharp line. his eyes flutter half-closed at the touch. he swallows, jaw tight, but his eyes never leave yours. โitโs always been you. even when i didnโt want it to be. even when it was easier to call you trouble and pretend i didnโt mean it.โ
you stare at him, everything in you swelling, soft and sharp at once, hope and terror braided together. for once, you canโt find a joke to break the tension. you just look at him, letting yourself be seen, letting him see you right back.
your voice is a whisper when it finally comes. โsay it again.โ
his thumb brushes your cheek, and he smiles like you put the stars in the sky. โi love you,โ he says again, and it feels like the only thing that matters.
your breath catches. the world shrinks to the press of his hands at your waist and the way his eyes hold you steady. you lean down, slow and trembling, letting your forehead touch his for a second, letting yourself breathe him inโwarmth, a hint of that familiar trouble.
then you kiss him.
it starts soft, just the gentle meeting of lips, his mouth slow against yours, as if youโre both afraid to break it. but thereโs years behind it, years of tension and longing and missed chances, so it deepens without you even thinkingโhis hand finding the small of your back, drawing you closer, your fingers sliding into his hair.
the air between you sparks, every tiny shift dragging a low hum from his chest. he tastes like a promise, like everything you didnโt let yourself hope for. he kisses you again, open-mouthed, hungry in a way that still feels careful, still feels like heโs trying to remember every second. your hips rock down into his, and the way his hands tighten at your waist says he feels it too. his tongue teases at your lip, slow and coaxing, and your hands slide to his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheekbones.
you break for air, both of you panting, your foreheads pressed together, laughter bubbling up because you canโt help it. heโs grinning, eyes wild and soft all at once, breathless as he murmurs, โgod, youโre trouble.โ
โyou love it,โ you whisper back, voice shaking with the sweetness and the want.
he kisses you again, deeper this time, and every inch of your skin feels awake, hungry, like thereโs nothing else in the world but the heat building between youโsweet, lovely, and so electric you think youโll never want anything else.
he kisses you until your lips tingle, until youโre dizzy with the heat of it, the sheer weight of wanting. then, in a rush of motion, he flips you bothโhis body over yours, caging you in with a knee on either side, hands braced on either side of your head.
you gasp, breathless, your legs falling open to make room for him, and your hands fist in his shirt. โnemiโโ you whisper, the sound nearly a plea, sweet and shaky in the dark. his grin turns wicked, pupils blown wide as he looks down at you, hungry and smug all at once. โoh, you sound better than i thought you would,โ he says, voice rough, like gravel dragged through honey.
your cheeks burn. โshut up.โ
he just chuckles, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the spot beneath your ear that makes your breath stutter again. โnah, i like this,โ he teases, lips trailing down your neck, โโwanna hear you say my name again.โ
your fingers curl in his hair, tugging gently, but he doesnโt let upโjust presses closer, lips ghosting over your collarbone.
then his voice drops, a wicked glint in it: โso, about thatโฆ noise in the bathtub the other night.โ
your whole body tenses. you blink, words caught in your throat, heat climbing up the back of your neck. โiโI donโtโโ he laughs, low and sharp, delighted by your stuttering. โoh, youโre cute when you lie,โ he whispers, mouth at your ear, teeth grazing the shell. โthought you were a lot louder than that.โ your face is on fire, embarrassment tangled with the ache heโs building in your stomach. โsanemiโโ you protest, voice cracking, but he just grins wider, fingers teasing down your side, catching on your shirt.
โyeah?โ he prompts, mischief thick in his voice. โgonna tell me what you were thinking about in there?โ you squirm, both mortified and aching, and he kisses your jaw again, softer, slower, letting his laughter melt into something sweet. โdonโt worry,โ he breathes, โyou can show me later. i wanna see how loud you can get for real.โ
his words settle into your skin, and all you can do is pull him back down to you, desperate to drown in him and the heat blooming between youโlost in a night that feels like itโs finally, finally yours. his mouth is hot and slow at your throat, the air charged between you, laughter and want tangled up in every heartbeat. you gasp his name, hands threading through his hair, his body heavy and grounding over yours.
in between kisses, voice shaky, you whisper against his jaw, โi was thinking about you, you know. in the bath.โ
he goes still for half a beat, groans into the pillow next to your head, the sound wrecked, hot, and so raw it makes your breath stutter. his hips press closer, the weight of him settling heavy and hungry.
you giggle, catching your breath, your hands sliding up his back. โare you okay?โ you tease, grinning into the space beside his ear. he lifts his head, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, that crooked, almost desperate smile on his lips. โyeah,โ he rasps, voice thick, โjustโfuckโhearing you say it just made me harder.โ
his hand slides up your thigh, grip tightening. โyouโre not allowed to confess shit like that when iโm already losing my mind.โ you lean up, kiss him slow, your smile pressed into his mouth. โmaybe i want to see what happens when you lose it.โ
he laughs, half a growl, half a plea, and buries his face at your neck, breath coming fast as he mutters, โkeep talking like that and youโre never leaving this bed.โ
you shiver, wrapping your legs tighter around him, your body arching up into his as the laughter dissolves into something thick and wanting, the air in the room going sweet and hungry and desperate for everything youโve been holding back.
your laughter shakes beneath him, sweet and nervous and bubbling up from somewhere soft inside. you tilt your head, breath ragged, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck.
โsince this is our first time,โ you whisper, a little shy, a little daring, โare youโฆ are you gonna be good to me?โ he smirks, leaning in, lips ghosting your cheek, voice dropping hot and rough right against your ear. โof course not,โ he breathes, his grin wicked. โi am fuckinโ the shit out of you.โ
your pulse jumps, eyes wide, but he doesnโt stop. โyouโre a brat for teasing meโposting those photos, running your mouth, making me watch you walk around like you didnโt know what you were doing.โ he kisses you hard, then bites your lower lip, not enough to hurt, just enough to make your whole body clench tight.
his hand slides down, squeezing your thigh, his hips pressing against you, everything hungry and trembling. โso iโm gonna need my compensation tonight, babe. every last bit you owe me.โ
your cheeks burn, heat surging through you, and you let out a shaky breath, your own voice turning breathless and desperate. โthen take it, nemi.โ his eyes spark, wild with want and victory, and he kisses you again, deeper, rougher, every inch of him promising to make good on every word.
he works your shirt up and off with a hunger that leaves your skin prickling, hands warm, touch not quite gentle. his mouth finds your shoulder, your collarbone, dragging slow and open-mouthed kisses across every inch of exposed skin. you feel the muscles in his arms flexing as he pins you steady, your legs already tangled around his waist.
he leaves you in your underwear for a beat, sitting up on his knees, stripping off his own shirt and letting it drop carelessly to the floor. heโs just in his briefs nowโhard lines and muscle, skin flushed, eyes fixed on you with a look that makes your heart thud.
his hands slide down, tracing your hips, his thumbs tugging at the waistband of your panties, pausing just long enough to ask, โthese matter to you?โ
you shake your head, voice breathless, teasing, โno. why?โ his mouth curls, wicked and wild. โgood.โ
the fabric tears in his grip, ripped right down the seam, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet. you laugh, pure instinct, something in you bright and open and delighted at the roughness, at the strength he holds so casually.
he catches your smile, leans in close, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. โoh, princess likes that?โ he purrs, voice thick with pride and promise. your hips arch, answer written all over your skin. โmaybe i do,โ you breathe, hands finding his back, nails skimming over muscle.
his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, and his hand trails down between your legs, fingers teasing, slow, dragging out every shiver he can coax from you.
โgood,โ he murmurs against your lips, โbecause iโve been waiting to ruin you all night.โ
his voice drops lower, heat coiling in every word. he mouths along your jaw, voice ragged and raw, lips barely brushing your skin as he spills every filthy promise heโs been holding back.
โyou have no idea how long iโve wanted you like this,โ he growls, teeth grazing your neck, tongue smoothing the sting. โall those nights you played hard to get, strutted around in those stupid little dressesโฆ you thought you were so slick, didnโt you?โ
his hands roam your body, fingers squeezing, kneading, memorizing. โyou remember that night you tickled me until i was out of breath? all i could think about was flipping you over, pinning you down, and fucking you until you cried for me.โ he nips at your ear, a slow, dirty smile curling against your skin. โshouldโve done it right there on the couch.โ
your breath hitches, thighs parting wider for him, his touch and his words making you dizzy. โand that dress-up night?โ he grinds against you, voice rough, โwhen you twirled in front of me, acting like you didnโt see how hard i was? i almost lost it. shouldโve made you sit on my lap and show me just how much you could take.โ he grabs your chin, tilts your face up to meet his eyes, wild and dark and burning. โyouโre mine,โ he breathes, possessive and hungry. โiโve waited long enough, and tonightโโ his lips crush yours, the words swallowed between your mouthsโ โtonight you donโt get to tease and run.โ
his hand slides between your legs, fingers parting you, dragging slow and heavy through your wetness. he swallows the moan you give him, then breaks away just enough to whisper, โevery single time you walked away, all i could think about was bending you over the nearest surface and making you remember who you belong to.โ
he presses his forehead to yours, breath mingling, all heat and promise. โyouโre mine,โ he repeats, voice so low itโs almost a growl. โsay it.โ
your words fall apart, stuttering, breath coming in short, needy bursts. you try to answer him, but the only thing that leaves your lips is a whimper, your body shivering with how much you want him. he notices, of courseโhe always does. his hand, steady at your waist, pulls you in close and he grins against your skin, voice warm with laughter and want. โlook at you, all worked up. youโre a mess, baby.โ
you feel him fumbling below, the press of his hips, the snap of fabric as he frees himself, hard and hot against your thigh. he lines himself up but hesitates, leaning over you, his lips brushing your ear.
โmissionary, huh? little too outdated for you and me,โ he teases, a low rumble of laughter in his chest. โthatโs baby-making positionโweโre not there yet.โ his words make you blush hotter, but before you can protest, heโs already shifting you, hands firm but careful, flipping you over and guiding you onto all fours.
the sheets bunch under your knees, your cheek pressing to the cool pillow, the world narrowing to the feel of his body moving behind you. you feel the rough, calloused slide of his palms along your hips, steadying you as he kneels close, chest brushing your back.
his mouth finds your shoulder, warm and open-mouthed, sucking marks youโll find later, his teeth dragging just enough to make you gasp. โthatโs better,โ he murmurs, voice thick with approval.
his hand slides between your thighs again, two fingers slipping easily into your wetness, curling and pressing just right, dragging a long, broken moan out of you. he holds you tight against him, his other arm braced around your waist, making you arch back into his touch.
โgod, youโre perfect like this,โ he breathes, lips dragging along your shoulder blade, voice all praise and filth and something possessive that makes your heart beat wild. โso fuckinโ wet for me. canโt believe how much you tease and act like you donโt want this.โ
he thrusts his fingers deeper, his thumb rubbing soft, messy circles, every movement careful but demanding, his kisses trailing up your spine. โtell me youโre mine,โ he growls, nipping at your skin. โsay it.โ
your voice trembles, but you force the words out, eyes glazed, body pulsing with want. โiโm yours,โ you gasp, barely above a whisper, โiโm yours, nemiโโ
his hand slides up, fingers tangling in your hair, gentle but unyielding, forcing your head to the side until your cheek meets the sheets and your eyes can find his over your shoulder. he leans in, breath hot at your ear, his gaze fierce and unblinking.
โgood girl,โ he murmurs, and thereโs something almost apologetic in the way his thumb sweeps over your cheek, softer than you expected. his other hand still between your legs, fingers buried deep, drawing out those sweet, desperate sounds you canโt control. then he pauses, voice rough, honest, trembling just a little. โiโm sorry for how iโm about to treat you, sweetheart,โ he rasps, lips pressed to your jaw, โi promise iโll be more careful next time. tonight, i justโcanโt help it. need you too much.โ
his hand withdraws, slick and sure, and you whimper at the loss, but then you feel the heat and weight of him, his shaft rubbing slow and heavy through your wetness, dragging against your clit, making you arch back helplessly, mind going white-hot.
his hand slides up to cup your cheek, holding you steady, forcing you to keep your eyes locked with his. the look in them is wild, dark, raw want tangled with something softer, something that aches for you even as he claims you.
he drags the tip of his cock over your slick, circling, teasing, both of you breathless, lost in the mess of it.
โlook at me,โ he demands, low and rough, โdonโt look away.โ
his grip tightens on your face, his hips lining up, the tension electric and unbearable as you wait for him to take you, your heart pounding, his gaze burning into yoursโlike thereโs nothing else in the world but you, the heat between you, and the way you both come undone.
he sinks into you in one smooth, deep thrustโyour slick, hot, needy body giving way around him, the stretch so sharp and sweet it knocks the air right out of you. you whimper, back arching, thighs trembling, and he stills, hands gripping your waist with a possessive, steady hold, letting you adjust, giving you just a moment.
โthatโs it, baby,โ he breathes, voice low and almost holy as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you firm. โfuckโyou feel better than i ever imagined.โ
his palms slide to your ass, spreading you open, thumbs pressing into your skin as he lets himself savor the way you clench around him. his hips twitch, barely holding back, and he rubs slow, soothing circles along your skin.
he leans down, mouth at your ear, his voice soft, gruff, honest. โdonโt ever change for me. you hear me? youโre perfect just like thisโevery part of you.โ his lips brush your jaw, your shoulder, praise spilling from him in messy, hungry words. โso fuckinโ perfect, sweetheart. mine.โ
your head shifts, forehead sinking into the pillow, breath coming fast and hot, the moans muffled by cotton. but he doesnโt let you hide, not even for a second. his fingers tangle in your hair, tugging you back up, forcing your head to the side so your flushed cheek presses against the pillow but your eyes are still on himโso he can see every gasp, every flutter of your lashes, every messy, desperate sound you make just for him.
โnah, donโt hide,โ he says, voice thick and dark as he starts to move, hips rolling deep and slow, filling you up again and again. โwant to see youโwant to watch you fall apart for me.โ his hand in your hair is tight but gentle, guiding, claiming you over and over.
you sob his name, the pleasure and pressure building, and he just groans, fucking you deeper, eyes burning into yours, like youโre the only thing he wants to see for the rest of his life.
his thrusts start slow and deep, each one dragging another sweet whimper out of you, your body rolling back into his like you canโt get close enough. every time he fills you, his grip on your hips tightens, his palm dragging over your waist, your ass, your lower backโtouch everywhere, holding, grounding, claiming.
he leans over you, lips ghosting your ear, voice ragged and warm and full of feeling. โfuck, you know how long i wanted this?โ his breath stutters with each thrust, his words tumbling out between groans. โbeing your best friendโalways over, always here, eating your food, stealing your bed. everyone thinking iโm your boyfriend but i couldnโt touch you like this. drove me crazy.โ
he snaps his hips harder, the bed creaking, your skin heating under his praise. โtraditions, movie nights, you walking around in those little shortsโknowing you trusted me, knowing you wanted me close, but not letting me have all of you. so fucking hot, baby. nearly lost my mind every damn time.โ
you choke on a gasp, the words and rhythm combining until your head spins. he lets go of your hair just long enough to run his hand down your spine, fingers splaying possessively. โbut this?โ he moans, thrusting deep, grinding into you, your whole body shuddering around him. โgetting to be inside you, to feel you like this? nothingโs better. not a damn thing in the world.โ
he presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice all tangled-up love and hunger. โdonโt want to be your best friend anymore. want to be your man. want to come home to you, every. fuckinโ. night.โ
your hands fist in the sheets, your body arching, the words hitting you as hard as his body does, every stroke pushing you closer to unraveling. all you can do is cry out for him, again and again, his name raw in your throat as he pounds into you, every compliment, every promise making you melt for him, over and over.
he presses his chest against your back, the angle deeper, harder, until youโre trembling, gasping, barely able to hold yourself up. he leans forward, lips finding yoursโsoft and messy, mid-moan, swallowing every shaky cry you make. his hand never leaves your waist, holding you steady as he rocks into you, slow and devastating.
โlove you,โ between kisses, โlove you,โ between thrusts, he breathes it against your lipsโโlove you, love you, love youโโeach word a brand, each movement making you feel more owned, more wanted, more his than youโve ever felt in your life. your own voice fractures, breaking on his name, tears streaking down your cheeks from the overwhelming stretch, the pressure, the sweetness of him everywhere.
โnemiโgodโfeels so good, youโre soโfuckโyouโre so bigโcanโtโโ your words shatter into another moan, hips bucking, your body arching into every stroke. he coos, low and gentle, lips nipping your ear, voice husky and kind. โshhh, youโre taking me so well, baby. look at youโso perfect, crying for me. you feel incredible, so fucking tightโso proud of you, pretty girl.โ
he wipes a tear away with his thumb, kissing the corner of your eye, slowing just enough to draw out the pleasure, to let you feel every inch. โthatโs it, let me hear you. let me have it all. youโre mine, arenโt you?โ
โy-yours,โ you sob, voice cracking, your whole world reduced to the way he fills you, the way he says your name like a precious prayer, the way he pours out every filthy, loving word until youโre lost in him, body and soul, undone and remade with every praise, every thrust, every promise in your ear.
his thrusts slow for a moment, his hand cupping your face, eyes searching yours, dark and wild. โwaitโbaby, you on birth control?โ youโre too far gone to lie, breathless, needy. you shake your head, voice breaking on a moan. โnoโโm notโsanemiโโ
he lets out a sharp, breathless laugh, something wicked curling in his voice.
you whine, trying to catch your breath, your body clenching around him. โwhatโs so funny?โ you gasp, half-crying, half-laughing at the edge of it all.
he leans down, mouth at your ear, grin hot and possessive. โnothing,โ he teases, nipping your earlobe, hips rolling rougher, faster, โjust means i gotta be careful, or iโll end up really making you mine.โ
he punctuates it with a hard thrust, knocking another cry out of you, the sound muffled against the pillow as he picks up the pace, pounding into you, relentless and deep, hands locked on your hips to hold you steady.
โcanโt help it, baby,โ he growls, voice ragged, โfeels too fucking good. fuckโyou make me want to ruin you for anyone else.โ
all you can do is sob his name, the rhythm driving you higher, your body shuddering as he chases both your pleasure and his, every word, every thrust making you his in ways you never even imagined.
your body tightens around him, everything winding up impossibly tightโevery stroke, every filthy praise, every sweet, hungry word turning into heat and lightning beneath your skin.
his hand slides down, two fingers circling your clit, unrelenting, just the right pressure, just the right rhythm, and the pleasure crests hard and fast. your thighs shake, your breath comes in sharp, desperate little cries, and then youโre comingโsqueezing tight around him, pulsing, your whole body shaking as the orgasm crashes through you.
you buck back against him, helpless, sobbing his name, the pleasure blinding and sharp and so, so good you can barely breathe. he groans, hips stuttering as your body milks him, his fingers never letting up on your clit. โthatโs it, babyโthere you go, just like that. fuck, youโre perfectโlook at you, falling apart for me.โ
you try to move away, too sensitive, but he holds you tight, not letting you run, his hand stroking you through it, coaxing every last shiver, every last drop of pleasure from you. โi got you,โ he soothes, voice low and sweet and ruined. โride it out, pretty girl. give it all to me. thatโs itโjust like that, iโm right here.โ
his thrusts turn ragged, hips snapping faster, the heat in his voice barely restrained. he groans your name, then pulls out at the very last second, hands sliding under your arms, lifting you uprightโbreathless, hair messy, eyes still hazy with pleasure.
he tugs you up so youโre kneeling in front of him, mouth parted, blinking up, and he fists his cock, rough and desperate, stroking himself while you watch. it only takes a few strokes before heโs falling apart, head tipped back, muscles tight, cum spilling hot and thick across your cheek, your lips, your chin.
his free hand cups your jaw, thumb smearing a bit of the mess across your skin, the sight making him groan even deeper. โfuck, youโre beautiful like this,โ he murmurs, voice ragged and awestruck, his eyes glued to youโwrecked, painted with him, the prettiest thing heโs ever seen.
he leans in, kisses your forehead, your hair, your lips if you let him, still tangled up in the aftershocks, still holding your face like youโre the most precious thing heโs ever touched. โmine,โ he whispers, soft and possessive, โso fucking perfectโcould look at you like this forever.โ
heโs still catching his breath, fingers trembling as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, screen lighting up in the blue-dark. his eyes search your face for a second, soft and hungry, voice almost shy beneath the rasp. โcan i? let me take a picture,โ he asks, thumb hovering over the camera, his other hand still warm on your cheek. โneed to remember this. need to see you like this, just for me.โ
youโre still flushed, streaked with his release, lips parted, pulse fluttering. you nod, a little breathless, eyes shining with mischief and trust. โyeah, nemi. go ahead.โ
he snaps the picture, the soft click echoing in the hush. his gaze is a little awed. he turns the phone, checks the photo, his smile going crooked, pupils wide with adoration and want. โfuckโlook at you.โ
he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin so youโre looking up at him, cum glistening on your face, every inch of you marked by him. โalways wanted to see you like this,โ he admits, voice thick, โwanted to keep you just for me. youโre gorgeous, baby. canโt believe youโre mine.โ
his thumb traces your cheekbone, gentle now, pride and love tangled up in the mess. โiโll keep it safe. only for me. promise.โ he kisses you slow, deep, tasting the sweetness of everything you are, never once looking away.
he grabs a tissue from the nightstand, hands careful as he cleans your face, soft little touches, thumb lingering at your jaw like heโs not ready to stop touching you. his voice drops, gentle, teasing, โhold still, pretty girl. canโt have you walking around all marked up.โ
when heโs done, he tosses the tissue aside and pulls you into the bed, sheets cool against your bare skin. you tuck yourself into his side, head pressed against his chest, one leg slung over his thigh. he leans back against the headboard, one arm behind his head, the other wrapped tight around you, grounding you in that way only he can.
the room is quiet, heartbeats settling, the smell of sex and sleep and him curling through the air.
you tilt your head up, cheek squished against his ribs, and with a silly, too-tired grin, ask, โsoโฆ what are we now, nemi?โ
he barks out a laugh, loud and bright, squeezing your waist. โwhat, you need a label for this?โ
you poke his side, making him jump. โyeah, i do. cโmon, i wanna hear you say it.โ
he grins down at you, mouth twitching, scoffs in that old familiar way thatโs half affection, half bravado. โweโre best friends,โ he deadpans, eyes sparkling.
you groan, snuggle closer, pretend to pout. โliar. best friends donโt doโฆ that.โ he shrugs, voice warm and playful, โguess weโre just really, really close.โ
you roll your eyes, laugh bubbling out as he tugs you impossibly closer, his arm a solid band around your waist. โshut up, nemi.โ
he presses a kiss to your temple, laughter rumbling deep in his chest. โnever. but weโre dating now. thatโs what we are.โ
and in the hush after, it feels like the easiest truth in the world.
Hii I saw the sanemi post ๐ฅฐ can I ask for sanemi fluff with a female hashira during hashira training arc? I've seen a few posts (not enough for me though I really love the concept)
Ok umm if u don't have a prompt yet I wanna suggest maybe they were in a secret relationship and (bc sanemi has a bit of a problem with communication) they were doing the nightly training with only each other (maybe a bit of flirting in between) and then someone catches them? It would be so fun~
Preferably f!reader but gn!reader is also fine~
๐๐ช๐ฏ๐ฏ ๐ ๐๐ก๐ก
shinazugawa sanemi x gn! reader
fluff
tysm for the req!
โโ(ใใโ)
the trees were shaking their reddish leaves in the soft wind of the night - but you weren't feeling this peaceful atmosphere at all. tossing your practice sword from one hand to the other, you clicked your tongue in annoyance.
he was late.
the silence of the forgotten temple you were planning to meet at was almost taunting.
it's not like your nerves weren't already strained from training the lower ranks all day - most of them quite useless, mind you.
tapping your foot, you spun the practice sword and caught it with your hand, now playing around with it in boredom.
there was a crunch of leaves that cut the silence harshly, you didn't need to look up to know it was the man you were waiting for.
"you're late." the disappointment in your voice was more prevalent than you wanted.
"hm." sanemi replied. "there was a fight."
raising an eyebrow, you looked at him in question.
"kamado..." he started and you rolled your eyes at him with an amused grin - really? you wondered how this young boy could annoy a grown ass man so much. "what? he stuck his nose into my business. I had to put him back in his place."
"uh-huh."
you talked about really mundane things while walking into the abandoned courtyard of the temple. the miso dango you got as a little treat, a funny looking dog he fed the day before and the new restaurant in kyobashi - best curry in town, they say. while getting into fighting position, the stones crunched under your sandal.
"ready?" he asked with his signature smirk, and you nodded - excitement rushing through your veins.
within a blink, he lunged forward. your wooden swords make a sharp clanking noise as they connected, and you stepped backwards, almost stumbling from the impact. activating your breathing technique, you attacked next, leaving a dent in the ground as you jumped up to strike down ferociously, sanemi dodged smoothly and it infuriated you.
the longer you fought, the clearer it got that skill-level wise you both were tieing - stamina wise, not so much. after about thirty minutes, you were already a panting, sweaty mess, and he didn't even breathe heavier.
"ugh, you're so annoying..." you whined, wiping the sweat from your forehead.
sanemi grinned, knowing this means you want a break. "mhm, aren't I?" he teased, "I'll buy you a drink after this to make up for it."
you looked at him with a smile and poked his side, "really?" he caught your hand in his and let out a soft snort. "this excited for a drink? I should be concerned."
he kept holding your hand and you smiled bashfully, leaning into his side.
it might've been a bit careless of you two, as you were not paying attention to the entrance of the temple, facing away from it.
"uhm... shinazugawa-san..." there was a voice behind you two, and you instantly let go of each other's hands, turning around with lightning speed. sanemi's face morphed from a surprised expression to a deep scowl when he saw tanjiro kamado standing in front of him.
"what the hell do you want?" he barked. you wanted to sink into the ground from embarrassment, hiding your face in your haori.
"I have a restraining order against you, why the hell are you here?!"
tanjiro looked a bit embarrassed, but he also glanced at you both curiously. there was a look in his eyes, it screamed 'I'm definitely gonna tell genya and zenitsu about this later!'
"the shoji doors... I'm sorry for destroying them earlier..."
Could u write a jealous Shinobu x F reader? Sheโs jealous that reader is always hanging out with Giyuu. She thought reader always had a crush on her because of how reader acts infront of her (all shy and serious. Always trying not to embarrass herself infront of Shinobu). But seeing how talkative and friendly reader is with Giyuu, she starts overthinking and getting jealous of Giyuu. So she joins the duo and keeps on trying to get readerโs attention and throwing quick insults at Giyuu to try and make him not seem โcoolโ. Love the way u write!
tysm for the req! it's such a cute idea
๐จ๐๐๐จ๐๐ฌ
shinobu kocho x f! reader
cw: jealousy, a little angst
shinobu kocho was agitated. mindlessly pacing around the egawa of her butterfly estate, repeating the images - the burning images in her head. you, touching tomioka's hand to get his attention; you, tipping your head back in a heartfelt laugh at something he said. it made her gag. it made her hot with an odd, seething anger. an oily feeling in her stomach, sticking everywhere on her insides.
of course, she knew that expectation - hope - was something she had no right to have. in this line of work, it was a liability, a stupid distraction from what was about to come. though, she never shyed away from teasing you or from uttering sweet nothings to you. it was natural, a reflex, one might say, for you were so captivating. a beautiful blossom's nectar to a butterfly.
it was somewhere along the way you pursed your lips, in the way you adjusted your uniform, or the way hummed a tune, that she became entangled. it made the vein on her forehead pop in frustration. she shifted her knees slowly, noticing the soft sound of footsteps coming closer. with a low blow of air, she put out the flame of the senko, watching the cursive lines of smoke as the room filled with the smell of fennel.
"kocho!", there was a sweet voice and a knock at her door. carefully, as to not crumble her haori, she stood up to slide it open and walk out.
"well, hello, y/n." she smiled, observing the way you fiddled with your clothes, how you guided your eyes away from her gaze. it made her brows furrow. the insect hashira looked at her co-worker next to you, the ever so stoic giyuu tomioka. she almost sneered at him, failing to hide the twitch in her upper lip. truthfully, kocho harbored no ill feelings towards this man. it could almost be said that they're friends, though she was all too familiar with the feeling crawling up on her, anger, distaste, a hint of annoyance. a cocktail of emotions she sipped on every day.
"i wanted to ask if ... you were free this evening." you said quietly, and if tomioka had not been there, kocho knew it'd made a part of her facade crack. "why are you being so strangely introverted?" he asked, almost deadpanning. she watched as you nudged his side, with a hushed "hey!", almost scolding him. it made her want to tear his face off. "what's the occasion?" something in the way your eyes shot to her, and your cheeks reddened, made her mood lighter. "a new koi pond opened," you started, "we should toss some coins for luck."
shinobu didn't reply at first, pressing her lips into a thin line. "are you joining us, tomioka?" she asked - as always, her voice should've sounded nice, sickly sweet, almost, but it came out forced, sharp. the water hashira looked confused, almost put on the spot - as he'd expected to come along anyway. nevertheless, she knew how to play these games. using simple mind tricks to make someone uncomfortable and embarrassed, and they do what you want. right now, shinobu wanted him to leave. it was a difficult task to do without revealing her intentions and jealousy.
kocho shinobu is a planner, a schedule slave, each of her moves, and each of her words carefully picked. so, as the three of you reached the pond, she felt some sort of disappointment. it was as though something didn't work out, a step failed, the goal now seemingly out of reach - but when she looked at you, it was hard for her to rationalize her anger. if you did harbor feelings for tomioka, she deemed it was going well. you laughed at his dry jokes, the one she could barely even listen to, and he smiled, more often than she'd ever seen. it was unfair of her, knowing that even if she won you over, it would be ... fleeting. another plan cutting roughly through the one labeled love. her mind was so preoccupied with revenge and hate that it would be a shame to let you in, to taint you.
"kocho?" she blinked as her name rang in her ears, looking at you. "would you like to pet them as well?"
you both sat down at the rim of the pond, the stone warm from sunshine. she watched as you ran your fingers along the spine of a rather big koi, white and red in color. for a while, only the occasional splash could be heard. "are you okay, kocho?" said girl retracted her fingers from the pond, wiping it on her haori. "why do you ask?" she heard you hum in thought, poking another koi, a thinner one - orange. "you looked so irritated today, I wondered if it was because of something I did."
shinobu halted her movements, looking into the distance. a sort of melancholic look on her face. after a while, she lifted the corners of her lips into a little smile. "i'm...jealous of tomioka, it seems." she confessed, her tone indicating that she felt a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "jealous?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. "whyever would you be?". kocho lifted her hand, hiding her lips behind it - a little chuckle escaping her, almost as if she found it ridiculous herself. "you talk and smile with him so openly..." she starts, "i want to be the one receiving your attention."
a blush rose in your cheeks, and she felt happy seeing the pink in your face. "oh, but kocho, my heart always beats too fast around you. i am almost unable to form a sentence." kocho tilted her head, her smile spreading even further. she could feel the fat of her cheeks bundle.
'it's 30ยฐC in linkon right now, people! that means swimming, beach parties, sex on the beach, and beaches."
you groaned at the weather reporter's distasteful pun and reached out to turn the volume of your mini radio down. huffing, you kneeled on your beach towel, re-knotting the strings of your bikini top. your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when you felt stares on you, clenching your fist, you turned around to give whatever man thinks he has the audacity to-
"rafayel." you exclaimed in a relieved tone, letting your fist sink. said man cocked his head to the side with his signature smile - he was wearing dark blue swimming trunks and a creamy shirt, which he left unbuttoned. sunglasses sat on his purple hair, and the sun shined so brightly on him, it almost made his strands look lavender. "is an excuse of a man giving you trouble?" he asked, his voice laced with a tilt of threat. you shook your head, stretching out your legs and supporting your upper body with your arms to look at him. "i'd take care of that myself." you started, pursing your lips, "what're you doing here? i didn't think you'd be the type to enjoy public beaches."
the artist crouched down to be on eye level with you and began to draw random shapes into the sand. "you'd be right. i'm just passing through to the private beach i rented." he pointed his finger westways, signaling to a lonely patch of sand surrounded by trees. you gawked at him after the words 'rented' and 'private beach' left his throat and shook your head in disbelief. "rich people have weird hobbies."
rafayel let out a fake 'ha, ha.' but the grin on his face was genuine. letting his magenta eyes travel around the beach, he took in the empty beer bottles and weird people hanging around. "come, join me. this place sucks."
so you did. even though your crocs were filling up with hot sand, it was thrilling to have a beach just for the two of you. after placing your (definitely not spongebob printed) bath towel, rafayel immediately lifted you over his shoulder and dropped you into the icy, salty seawater. resurfacing, you gasped - pulling your wet hair back from your face.
"you."
just hearing the pure, hot anger in your tone, rafayel booked it into the other direction. "you motherfucker!" you sprinted after him, hunter senses kicking in until you tackled him onto the ground. "you're under arrest, rafayel." a cheshire cat-like grin formed on his face, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "what're you gonna do to me, miss hunter?" he began, leaning closer to your face. "what's my sentence?" he whispered, slowly turning both of you around. feeling the energy switch abruptly, you broke eye contact. "i'll...keep you in a small fishbowl, like cosmo and wanda."
letting out a chuckle, he kissed your bare shoulder. "doesn't seem that bad." nuzzling deeper into your neck, he pressed hot mouthed kisses to your throat and collarbone, making you whine out needily. "please, rafa. not here, they'll see." locking eyes with him, you knew this was a useless battle. his eyes were glazed over, a hunger you knew all too well reflecting in them. "I don't care." he said, voice muffled by your skin. spreading your legs, you gave him space to settle, which he took with delight. "seems like you don't care, either." you reacted with a pout, not wanting to admit you were down bad this immensely for him. "I'm still dripping from your attack. it must taste bad. or maybe it'll make a fish like you nostalgic."
rafayel laughed at your attempts to cover your shyness, finding it weirdly endearing. it is very unlike him to choose to stay quiet, but he did - drawing a map from your collarbone, between your chest and down to your waist with his lips, wetting them with seawater and the taste of you. he tightened the grip on your thighs once you started squirming, letting his other hand travel just a bit higher to undo the strings of your bikini and let it fall down your legs.
"fuck, I can't wait to taste you." rafayel rasped, guiding your legs onto his shoulders. a bright blush erupted on your cheeks, and you covered your face with your hands, panicking slightly. it's not like this is the first time you've slept with him, though somehow the same feeling pooled in your tummy - a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. rafayel's passionate and upfront personality makes sex feel so much more like an adventure. kissing your inner thighs, he teased what was about to happen, making you cage him in as if it were a reflex. "tsk." he tutted, tapping his finger on the plump of your upper legs to warn you. "behave."
it's very unlike you to submit, but for him, you do. you arch your back, whine and moan as he parts your wet folds with his fingers and licks long stripes between them, stopping everytime once he reaches your clit - kissing, biting and sucking it. thinking about having the most sought-after man in linkon between your legs makes this even more intense, and you feel yourself getting wetter. rafayel notices this as well, pumping a finger into your hole to make more of your juices seep out. he just liked the taste of you too much, he can't help it.
"get on your stomach." he said, watching you turn over. luckily, you caught a short glimpse of his reddened ears and his wet chin. once you were positioned to his liking, he gave your ass a spank, watching it jiggle with delight. a yelp escaped you as he did it again, grabbing it forcefully and pulling you flush against his hardened cock. feeling him pulse through the fabric of his trunks had you mewling, grinding your backside against him feverishly. "impatient, huh?" he commented hotly, clumsily pulling his drooling cock out, "me too."
all this waiting had you dizzy. grunting, you reached back and took his cock in you hand, to which he let out a surprised gasp. you felt it oozing out pre and almost moaned at how turned on your lover was too. not-so gently, you guided him between your folds and pressed your ass to his pelvis, taking it all at once. feeling him fill you up so nicely, his tip prodding at your cervix and every twitch of his pale dick mingling into your walls made you moan deliciously.
"fuck, (y/n), you're driving me insane." he whined, pushing his hand to your upper back to press you down, rafayel started to languidly drag his cock along your walls. everyone knows this artist isn't known for his patience or for being monotone, so the rhythm faltered quickly, ending in him thrusting into you so hardly, your ass clapping against his thighs echoed through the beach. you feared the water god he talked about might feel the ripples on the sea, cursing you for being so naughty in front of his domain. you screamed out, helplessly scratching at the sand underneath you as some sort of anchor for your sanity, but you lost yourself to the pleasure the moment he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his chest against your back, freely moaning and cursing into your ear.
"princess, you feel so good. fuck, your pussy is creaming on my cock, it's gonna suck me dry this time, I swear." he babbles. rafayel talks a lot normally, but once he loses himself inside you, the words just flow out. "r-ra-af", you choke out between thrusts, "it feels so good, oh my god." your pussy flutters once he hits a certain spot, and he immediately notices - abusing it with no hold-backs. if there's anything he wants, it's for you to go above and beyond the lines of pleasure, so he starts circling your clit with three fingers quickly, drawing circle and infinity shapes just how you like it. with no warning, no build up, you fall apart quickly, screaming his name to the heavens while you feel your soul escaping your body with a mind shattering orgasm. after a few seconds, your body is drained off all strength, and you become a doll in his hands to fuck his cum into.
"(y/n), you should've seen your face right now, never saw something more beautiful. it was so hot, fuck-" he buries his head into your neck while he lazily thrusts into you a few times more, stuffing his cock so deep into your pussy you fear he might target your womb. he doesn't move, keeping his pelvis flush against your back while filling you up -
hi!! could i request a smut of lazy, sleepy sex with xavier, but he goes So Excruciatingly Slow just to get back at you for all the times he's been teased? ๐คฒ slow and soft just feels so xavier-core to me but at the same time, his "and you're not worried about me retaliating?" line lives rent free in my mind i KNOW he'd go a step further and use it to tease back...
also out of curiosity- i noticed your recent fic titles and are you a moa..!!!! ((bc i needed to yell that xavier gives aaalllll the nap of a star vibes))
hi my sweet! this is an AMAZING request, tysm!! and yes, I'm a moa (beomgyu biased), xavier is so fairy of shampoo coded it's BAFFLING โญ๏ธ๐
แดแดแดแดษชษด' ๊ฑแดแดส
xavier x afab! reader
cw: slow sex, teasing, p in v
เผบโเผป
outside, the world was draped in dark indigo - it was quiet, most people were in their beds trying to get some sleep in for their next 9 to 5 shift. xavier was breathing heavily into your nape, his arm draped around your waist from behind. his pale hair tickled your naked shoulder, but the press of his warm, naked body against yours was so comfortable that you could've fallen asleep - were it not for his dick sliding into you languidly.
this is torture, you thought. xavier's cock was pushing into you so nicely, his tip kissing your hilt everytime he finally pressed his hips far enough, which was way less than what would've satisfied you. honestly, you were contemplating just closing your eyes and drifting off, but the hope of him quenching your need kept you awake. "...xavier. why." you whispered, and a quiet 'hm?' came as a response, his lips pressing to your shoulder.
"why are you going so slow?" you sighed, focusing on how you were able to feel every little vein, and every little pulse of his dick inside. he was dragging it along your walls at a snail's pace. hell, even a turtle could've made it from linkon to pluto by now. "dunno, maybe cause you were being unfair back on our mission." xavier shrugged, circling his finger on the plush of your thigh.
ah yes, the mission. he was talking about that one time you were assigned to a fancy dinner party and had to pick out clothes that fit the occasion.
"your ass looked so good in those pants I couldn't help myself!" you argued, which earned you a quiet chuckle. "thank you, but don't tease me too much. I'm not as aloof as you think." xavier pressed closer to you, biting the side of your neck and burying himself deeper inside, nudging your cervix. gently, he let his hands travel to the back of your knee, lifting up your leg for better access.
OH MY GOSH are you a rafayel lover too ๐ญ i swear, i love him so much! and im happy that l&ds comnunity is growing here that a new ff of raffy is posted everyday when i refresh the tags! im glad u seem enthusiastic to accept requests ๐ my raffy brainrot is so bad i need my fix!
can i request? we know rafayel has some sort of "abandonment issues" and we know where it stems from and how it manifests (where he says mc can do what they want as long as they come back to him or let him know what they're doing ๐ญ) and imagine that mc GENUINELY forgets bc she's tired from all the work as a hunter, and when she meets raffy again, he's quiet and she's trying to prod a word out of him but he won't budge cuz he's hurt ๐ญ and u can go on from there! aargh i love hurt/comfort so much.
happy valentines!! (in advance) ๐๐๐
YES rafa is my babygirl. my muse. my glubglubglub. my everything. HE'S SUPER RELATABLE TOO ??? HELP my abandonment issues are literally the same, I'm almost offended ๐ญ๐ญ๐ tysm for the request & happy early valentinesss ๐๐๐
สแด$แดส=สโกแด แดส !
rafayel x reader
cw: burn-out like symptoms, wounds/blood, arguing, cursing, hurt & comfort
๐ โ๏ฝก๐ฆนยฐโง๐ผ
6:00 a.m., you skimmed over rafayel's last message and told yourself to reply later - of course, as fate does, a super strong wanderer appeared which occupied you for an excruciating, multiple hour long fight. it was night when you returned home, stripping off your uniform and throwing your gun on the kitchen counter. You barely made it to bed, soaking your sheets in a bit of blood before completely passing out.
it was noon when you woke up again and evening when you were done with your report and bandaging your wound. finally, you were able to check your phone, and it doomed on you. rafayel's message stayed unreplied. you scrolled down his other three texts.
๐ผ โ๏ฝกห ๐โ๏ฝกห ๐ผ
11am rafa: are u ok?
12am rafa: (y/n), can I come over?
1pm: are u serious? not this again.
๐ผ โ๏ฝกห ๐โ๏ฝกห ๐ผ
you furrowed your eyebrows in regret, but exhaled painfully right after. your wound opened again.
you were forced on another, quicker mission that night, but it still left you exhausted, your former wound nagging at you still. once again you came home late, passed out, and woke up around noon. opening your phone, there were no new messages.
quickly, you pressed the call button and were shocked to find the artist wasn't picking up.
๐ โ๏ฝก๐ฆนยฐโง๐ผ
5:00 pm y/n: hey, sry rafayel. work has been a lot lately.
5:01 pm y/n: I'm rlly sorry
๐ โ๏ฝก๐ฆนยฐโง๐ผ
wincing, you sat down, your heart beating anxiously for some reason. 'what if this is it? I broke his promise. there's no reason for him to stay. it's fair, but I need him around. because...'
because you like him. it's selfish, you want him around although you barely fill his needs. suddenly, a very familiar dark cloud forms in your stomach and you feel depressed. deeming another relationship ruined by your work, you open social media to drown out the silence.
several hours passed until a knock at your door ripped you out your daze. quickly, you got up and open it. "rafayel." you say, his name coming out almost like a sigh of relief before you could register it. he was dressed in his white shirt, and white pants adorned with an intricate silver belt - he looked put together as always. you, on the other hand, were in an oversized tee, messy hair and deep eyebags with chapped lips. "hi." he simply greeted, making his way into your apartment.
you followed him, breathing anxiously at his unreadable aura. "listen, rafayel - I'm sorry, I wanted to reply and text you but.."
"you forgot." he replied, crossing his arms. there was a look of hurt and disappointment in his face. "it's not that simple." you argued, breathing in to continue, but he emotionally cut you off. "it is, though. (y/n), if you'd like me enough, a simple task like keeping me updated would be easy."
"rafayel. I like you, I like you a lot but..." you breathed in deeply, the harshness of his words getting to you enough to make your eyes teary. defeated, you sat down on your couch, burying your face in your hands. "these past days have been a lot, I could barely take care of myself and most of the time I was either fighting, passed out or tending to my wounds..." you trailed off weakly - due to your eyes being covered, you couldn't see rafayel's eyebrows raising in shock at your reaction, his arms slowly sinking.
"I swear if I'd have a normal life, I'd text you regularly, but it's not." slowly, you raise your head to meet his eyes - yours were puffy and red, tears streamed down your face. rafayel stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.
"it'd be selfish of me to wish for you to stick by me while i don't fulfill your needs, i know i'm not a good...friend. I try to do my best, rafa. you mean a lot to me, but i understand if you want to leave. you deserve someone better."
at this point, tears were streaming down your face freely, and soft sobs escaped your throat. rafayel lowered his gaze, afraid he'd sink to his knees and beg for forgiveness instead. after a while, he sat next to you, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours and brushing his thumb across your hand as he watched your body move with your sobs. "(Y/N), there is not a single part of you that is selfish."
gently, he holds your cheek and makes you look at him. his hand remains there as he continues talking.
"rather, it is me who is selfish. i crave your attention and validation, and feel hurt if i don't receive it. i'm sorry for being petty, i should've come over sooner. and..."
rafayel moves his hand to wipe away your tears and softly kisses your forehead, he smiles as he hears you breathe out softly.
"i could never bring it over my heart to part from you."
you gaze into his rich, magenta eyes and feel your heartstrings pull towards him. it's as if there were a bridge between your chests. closing your eyes, you feel your love for him blooming in the valleys of your bloodstream and bubbling out of your skin, and it weirdly feels as old as millenia, as if you'd known this love all your life, and all the lives you lived before.
"i'm glad." you smiled wobbly, "i feel the same." with a sigh, you leaned your head on his shoulder and let your body relax.
"i dunno how to feel about you calling us 'friends', though."