The first thing Michael Kaiser noticed about you was that you were impossible to read.
As the assistant of Bastard München's manager, you carry clipboards, schedules, medical reports and enough patience to survive an entire team of football players with inflated egos.
Especially one particular striker.
"Kaiser, media room. Five minutes."
Your voice is calm.
Kaiser looks up from the bench, flashing his signature grin.
"Aw, already missing me? You could've just said so."
"...Your interview starts in five minutes."
Kaiser clicks his tongue dramatically.
"Tough."
You simply walk away without another word.
"...She really doesn't like you," Isagi mutters.
Kaiser scoffs.
"Impossible."
"She doesn't react to anything you do."
"That's because," Kaiser stands, smoothing his hair back with practiced elegance, "she's intimidated."
Over the following weeks, Kaiser doubles his efforts.
He starts by greeting you every morning with, "Good morning, beautiful."
And you merely reply with, "Training starts in twelve minutes."
"...You're killing me."
"Not my job description."
Even Ness has started laughing at Kaiser's repeated failures.
"You've been rejected thirty-two times."
"I haven't been rejected. I am simply... playing the long game."
Then... one afternoon, after training, the floor near the equipment room has just been mopped, you round the corner while carrying several folders.
And of course, your foot slips.
Everything happened at once. The folders flew into the air. And just before you hit the floor—
An arm wraps securely around your waist.
"...Careful."
Kaiser's voice. Close, very close.
Your eyes meet, his face was only inches away.
Your heartbeat stops.
Then explodes and your entire face turns bright red. And also a tiny squeak actually escapes your mouth.
You slap both hands over your lips.
Kaiser freezes.
"...You squeaked."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
"I refuse to acknowledge it."
Your ears are scarlet.
You gently push yourself away from him before crouching to gather the papers as if absolutely nothing has happened.
"I appreciate your assistance."
Your voice is still composed, but your face absolutely isn't.
Kaiser remains standing there as the slowest, cockiest grin spreads across his face.
From that day onward, Michael Kaiser becomes unbearable.
Kaiser starts walking around the training camp like he has won the Champions League.
You, meanwhile, are pretending none of it has happened.
Which only inflates his ego further.
But then reality punch him in the face.
Because Kurona suddenly skips over and cheerfully pokes your cheek.
You jump and your face explodes into another blush.
"S-sorry—"
Kurona smiles.
"You're so easy to surprise."
And then he skips away.
Kaiser slowly turns toward Ness.
"...What."
Ness looks at him, then looked at you, then back at Kaiser.
"...I don't think you're special."
Surely not because five minutes later Isagi accidentally brushes your hand while taking a stack of documents.
"Oh, sorry."
Another blush, another tiny squeak, another awkward apology from you.
Kaiser stares as his eye twitches.
PThe following hours only make it worse.
Raichi pats your shoulder? Blush.
Yukimiya thanks you and lightly squeeze your hand? Blush.
Hiori fixes a loose strand of your hair because it had gotten caught in your ID badge? Your soul nearly leaves your body.
Kaiser finally snaps.
"What exactly is wrong with you?"
You blink. "...Excuse me?"
"You blush at everyone."
You frown thoughtfully. "...Oh."
"THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?!"
You look surprisingly embarrassed. "I don't mean to."
"You literally turned red because Isagi handed you a pen."
"...His hands are nice."
"...His WHAT?"
You realize what you have admitted.
"I... I appreciate aesthetically pleasing physiques."
"What?"
You sigh.
"I simply... like looking. Admiring the view."
Kaiser stares.
You continue speaking in the same calm tone one would use while discussing the weather.
"I enjoy admiring well-built shoulders, defined forearms, hands, collarbones, back muscles. But I'm very professional."
"You just listed half the male anatomy."
"I keep those thoughts to myself."
"You literally just told me."
"Because you asked."
Kaiser finally realises that you weren't blushing because of him. You admire everyone.
And the realization physically wounds his pride.
The next morning he walks into training looking personally betrayed by the universe.
Ness raises an eyebrow.
"You look awful."
"...She likes muscles."
"...You have muscles."
"...She likes everyone's muscles and this is unacceptable."
Ness immediately recognizeds that tone.
"I refuse to lose."
Kaiser watches you from across the field.
You are writing something on your clipboard with your usual impassive expression, completely unaware of the crisis unfolding inside Germany's greatest narcissist.
His eyes narrows.
"So..." A slow grin returns to his face. "If she appreciates beautiful men... Then I'll simply become the most beautiful man she wants to admire."
Across the field, you happen to glance up just as Kaiser pulls his shirt over his head after training.
For exactly one second, your face instantly heats. Then you quietly look back down at your clipboard.
"...Stay professional." You whispered to yourself. "...Please stay professional."
Unfortunately for you, Michael Kaiser saw that.
And the triumphant grin stretching across his face can probably be seen from space.
"Oh?" He laughs to himself. "So I still have a chance."
The competition has never officially existed. But in Michael Kaiser's mind—
He has already declared himself as your future favorite soccer player and he's not gonna back down ever.
Usually, when you came home from class, Rin would be watching match footage with his headphones on, barely acknowledging your existence until you stole one of his earbuds.
Today, there was nothing.
“…Rin?”
No answer.
You wandered into the living room.
Empty.
Kitchen.
Empty.
Bedroom…
There he was.
Fast asleep.
Curled up on top of the comforter, still wearing one of his training jackets.
You blinked
Rin never napped.
Ever.
You quietly set your bag down and knelt beside the bed.
His hair was a mess, falling over his eyes. His breathing was slow and even, the tension that was usually etched into his face completely gone.
You reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead.
The second your fingers touched him, his hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist.
His eyes cracked open.
“…You’re home.”
“Mhm.”
“What time is it?”
“Five.”
“I overslept.”
“You needed it.”
He let go of your wrist, but only long enough to sit up.
Without saying a word, he reached for you instead.
You smiled.
“Aw, are you asking for a hug?”
“No.”
“You literally have your arms out.”
“…Come here.”
You laughed and climbed onto the bed anyway.
The moment you settled beside him, Rin buried his face in your shoulder.
No teasing.
No complaints.
No pretending he didn’t want affection.
Just…you.
His arms tightened around your waist.
You gently ran your fingers through his hair.
“Hard practice?”
“…Yeah.”
“You pushed yourself too much again?”
A quiet hum.
“You know your body isn’t a machine.”
“I know.”
“You say that every time.”
“I know.”
You smiled to yourself.
For someone who struggled to express himself, Rin had become surprisingly easy to read.
The tighter he held you, the harder his day had been.
The quieter he was, the more exhausted he felt.
The fact that he’d fallen asleep before you got home meant he’d reached his limit.
After a few minutes, you felt his breathing even out again.
“…Rin?”
No response.
You pulled back just enough to look at him.
He’d fallen asleep sitting up, his forehead resting against yours.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly.
“So clingy,” you whispered.
Without opening his eyes, he mumbled,
“…Only with you.”
And somehow, half-asleep, barely conscious, those three words felt more sincere than any perfectly planned confession ever could.
I’m giving my friend my account name💔 wish me luck
a/n: lads, its pissing me off how much fun i had writing this + reader being drunk is based on me being drunk
"julien!" you chimed, stumbling forward. he caught you instantly, his reflexes as sharp as ever. his arms wrapped securely around your waist, steadying you before you could crash face-first into the doorframe.
julien was only 18, but between his skyrocketing football career and his naturally grounded personality, he somehow always ended up being the responsible one. right now, looking down at his girlfriend who was practically vibrating with tipsy energy, he felt mentally about 30.
"what is this?" julien asked, a faint, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he plucked the bottle from your hands and set it on the counter. "tu es ivre?" [are you drunk?]
"noooo," you whined, burying your face into his chest until your voice was muffled by his hoodie. "not drunk. just... un petit...tipsy. very sophisticated."
"right. very sophisticated," he hummed, rubbing slow circles over your back as he guided you toward the couch. he took your shoes off without a second thought, completely focused on his very lightweight girlfriend. "let's get you some water, ma chérie."
you let out the most dramatic groan imaginable, immediately latching onto the front of his shirt so he couldn't escape. now that you were living in france with him, you'd been trying so hard to improve your french.
unfortunately, the moment alcohol entered your bloodstream, so did every grammar mistake known to mankind. you looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes overflowing with drunken admiration before grabbing both of his cheeks and squishing his face.
"julien..."
you paused dramatically, brow furrowed in concentration.
"je..." you mumbled, desperately digging through the five french words your brain still remembered. "je t'aime... beaucoup. très beaucoup."
julien bit the inside of his cheek.
"très beaucoup isn't grammatically correct, mon ange."
"silence, i'm talking!" you giggled, weakly smacking his shoulder. "tu es... très beau. like... very pretty boy." you poked his chest with a single finger. "and... and mon cœur?" you pressed your hand dramatically over your own heart. "..it goes boum-boum for you."
you gasped, suddenly remembering something.
"je t'aime grande comme la tour eiffel!" [i love you big like the eiffel tower]
a soft, breathless laugh escaped before he let you tug him down beside you on the couch, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist as you curled into his lap.
you were an absolute disaster. your french was somewhere between adorable and a crime against linguistics, but to him, it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.
"ah, oui?" he murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before pressing a kiss to your forehead. "your heart goes boum-boum?"
"oui!" you beamed. "very boum-boum."
your eyelids were already drooping as the warmth of the apartment—and julien's embrace—slowly lulled you toward sleep. you snuggled deeper into the crook of his neck with a content little sigh.
"je t'aime, julien."
"moi aussi, je t'aime," he whispered, tightening his hold around his favorite lightweight. "but tomorrow, we're practicing your grammar."
he paused "...and absolutely no more buying liquor by yourself."
the sweet, romantic atmosphere survived for approximately five minutes before your stomach declared war. julien felt it the second your sleepy cuddles turned rigid, a pitiful little whimper escaped you before you buried your face into his neck—not out of affection this time, but sheer misery.
"julien..." you groaned, clutching desperately at his hoodie. "mon estomac..." you swallowed hard. "it's doing... like... bicycle kicks." his protective instincts kicked in immediately. thankfully, you were still coherent enough to warn him.
"bathroom?" he asked, already sliding one arm beneath your knees and the other behind your back.
he lifted you effortlessly and hurried down the hallway and barely got you to the toilet in time. the moment you dropped to your knees, he was already beside you, gathering your hair into one hand while the other rubbed slow, reassuring circles over your back.
between miserable little whimpers and bouts of sickness, you kept trying to apologize through your slurred french.
"désolée... julien... i'm so.. désolée..."
you sniffled "i ruined the... mmmn...un romance"
"chut..." julien murmured, leaning over to kiss the side of your head. "arrête. don't worry about any of that right now." his hand never stopped moving against your back.
"just let it all out, chérie...you're okay."
after a few rough minutes, you finally sagged backward against his chest, completely exhausted. your face had gone pale and your eyes were watery, you looked like you regretted every life decision that had led you to this moment.
julien flushed the toilet before grabbing a cool, damp washcloth, carefully wiping your face and the corners of your mouth.
"better?" he asked softly.
you answered with the weakest little nod imaginable, resting your cheek against his shoulder. "never drinking l'alcool again," you mumbled. "promise."
a quiet laugh escaped him.
"good."
he rested his chin lightly atop your head.
"because next time, i'm buying you juice boxes instead."
he carried you back to the couch, tucked a blanket beneath your chin, and kissed your forehead. you looked so small, so fragile, and so thoroughly defeated by a handful of sips that he figured the crisis was finally over.
"stay here, mon ange," he said, gently patting your cheek. "i'll get you some water... and something salty for that poor stomach of yours." he wandered into the kitchen, letting out a long, tired sigh.
right now, he genuinely felt like the exhausted father of a particularly chaotic toddler and somehow he found it adorable.
a fond smile lingered on his face as he poured you a tall glass of water and grabbed a bag of savory crackers from the cupboard. he was gone for maybe ninety seconds, ninety seconds of pure, uninterrupted peace.
then he walked back into the living room, julien stopped dead in his tracks, the glass nearly slipped from his fingers.
...
oh, mais non.
there you were, sitting cross-legged on the couch. blanket? gone. dignity? who tf is that?
your head was tipped all the way back, eyes squeezed shut in complete defiance of both god and basic survival instincts, as you enthusiastically chugged the remaining liquor straight from the bottle.
"hé! non, non, non—qu'est-ce que tu fais?!" [hey! no, no, no—what are you doing?!]
he launched himself across the room, dropping the crackers onto the coffee table before snatching the bottle from your hands with football-player reflexes. he stared down at it in horror, at least two more very generous swigs were gone.
julien slowly looked back at you.
...
what, exactly, was happening inside that beautiful, wonderfully empty head of yours?
"pourquoi?!" he gasped, looking between you and the bottle like he'd just witnessed an actual felony. "you just threw up! tu es folle?!"
you blinked up at him, entirely unbothered by his rapidly deteriorating mental state. your lips smacked together proudly, then the alcohol hit. your entire body shuddered so violently it looked like your soul briefly considered evacuating.
"i had to..." you whined, words melting together into one long, defensive pout. "juli, listen..."
you pointed solemnly at your mouth.
"the taste..was yucky...because of the..." you scrunched your nose "...vomir."
you made the weakest little gagging motion imaginable.
"so i washed it away."
julien stared, then he pinched the bridge of his nose, he could physically feel a headache beginning to bloom behind his eyes.
"...you washed away the taste of vomit...with the exact thing that made you vomit?"
"oui! problem solved!"
you looked absurdly proud of yourself, like you'd just cured a disease. three seconds later, you flopped sideways into the couch cushions with a pitiful groan.
"oh..."
you squeezed your eyes shut.
"mon dieu..."
another miserable groan.
"the room is spinning again..." "of course it is," julien groaned, sounding like he was only half joking. he tossed the bottle in the trash bin; before sitting beside you again, without a word, he scooped your limp, giggling self back into his lap.
pressing the glass of water against your lips.
"drink."
you took one reluctant sip.
"all of it."
another tiny sip.
"don't negotiate with me."
"you're bossy," you mumbled, pouting as you obediently kept drinking.
he tightened his arms around your waist before you could suddenly remember another brilliant idea.
"no more l'alcool for you. ever."
after a few gulps, you turned your head away from the glass with all the stubborn determination of an overtired 5 year old.
"no more water..."
you whined dramatically.
"i want..."
you blinked slowly.
"...manger...food...s'il te plaît."
julien sighed, looking down at your flushed face, your eyelids were heavy, your logic had completely dipped but your stomach was very clearly demanding something substantial to absorb the second wave of liquor you'd geniusly inhaled.
"fine."
he pointed a stern finger directly at your face.
"sit."
"do. not. move."
you nodded with exaggerated seriousness.
"...oui, chef."
julien wasn't convinced for a single second, still, he hurried to the fridge. crackers weren't going to cut it anymore, luckily, his mother had sent him home yesterday with a container of homemade coq au vin.
rich, slow-braised chicken, mushrooms, lardons... exactly the sort of comforting meal your poor stomach desperately needed. he heated up a generous portion, and within moments the apartment was filled with the warm, savory smell.
when he returned, he nearly sighed with relief. you were exactly where he'd left you, although... you did appear to be glaring at the room as if you could intimidate it into stopping its spinning.
"alright, princesse," julien murmured, settling beside you before gently pulling you back against his chest so you wouldn't tip over. he cut off a small piece of chicken, coated it in the rich sauce, blew on it carefully, then held it to your lips.
you accepted the bite immediately, your eyes grew comically wide.
"...oh my dieu."
you froze mid-chew.
"julien...c'est magnifique."
your face lit up.
"the chicken.. is so soft."
you rested your head against his shoulder.
"...like eating a cloud."
a proud little smile tugged at his lips.
"it's my maman's coq au vin."
he gently wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. "it'll settle your stomach." then he offered another bite.
"here."
you happily opened your mouth again. halfway through chewing though, you suddenly stopped, your eyes widened. very slowly...you looked up at him.
"...wait."
julien immediately recognized that look. it was the expression that always appeared exactly three seconds before you said something completely ridiculous.
"...julien."
you whispered dramatically.
"...coq au...vin."
pause.
"...vin...that's wine."
julien closed his eyes "...yes" he already knew where this was going.
"it's cooked in wine, but the alcohol burns off wh—"
"MORE ALCOHOL?!"
you gasped so loudly he nearly dropped the fork. you pointed accusingly at him. "you're feeding me more booze! you're helping it!" you slapped a hand over your mouth then leaned closer like you were revealing classified government info.
"...you're an accomplice...un criminel."
julien completely lost the battle to stay serious.
"it's literal chicken."
he laughed, gently pressing another forkful against your lips before you could accuse him of any more crimes.
"eat."
you obediently accepted the bite.
"and stop yelling."
another bite.
"i'm trying to save your life."
"...merci."
you mumbled around a mouthful of chicken. you didn't just eat, you absolutely annihilated that coq. every piece of chicken, every mushroom, every last drop of sauce, gone.
julien was fairly certain you would've licked the porcelain clean if he hadn't taken it away first, now you were sprawled dramatically across his lap, flat on your back, looking like a particularly overstuffed plush toy.
"...je suis une boule," [i am a ball]
you groaned, patting your stomach with immense sorrow "a very tragic boule." you sighed.
"like..."
your hand hovered thoughtfully in the air.
"...a beach ball... eh, non... perhaps a bowling ball."
you slapped your tummy again.
"julien."
your voice dropped to a whisper.
"...i am...un ballon de foot." [a football]
you puffed out your cheeks to demonstrate.
"...or...une poule enceinte." [a pregnant hen]
julien broke, he laughed so hard he had to duck his head "a pregnant hen?" he wheezed. "vraiment, chérie? that's what we're going with?"
you nodded solemnly.
"oui..full of chicken...and feelings."
he laughed even harder "alright." he slipped an arm beneath your back.
"time for bed, my little chicken. you need to sleep off... whatever this is."
"non!"
you immediately began kicking your legs in protest.
"attends!"
you flailed so dramatically anyone would've thought he was dragging you toward a medieval execution.
"i can't sleep! je suis sale...and full!" [i am dirty...]
you clutched your chest.
"sleeping dirty and full is..."
you searched the ceiling for the word.
"...un péché!"
julien looked toward the clock then back at you, then back at the clock. it was late and he had training tomorrow but he knew, there was, unfortunately and absolutely no winning this argument. if he carried you to bed now, you'd spend the next three hours dramatically announcing every inconvenience your body experienced.
"...fine."
he surrendered.
"we'll stay here for a bit."
he leaned back against the couch before gently pulling you upright until you were sitting across his lap, your head tucked comfortably beneath his chin. apparently your brain interpreted can't sleep as time to confess every thought you've ever had.
whatever language skills you possessed had officially dissolved into a beautiful, catastrophic bowl of franglais.
"julien..."
you sighed dreamily against his neck, your fingertips wandered aimlessly across his jaw.
"tu es..."
you squinted.
"...le roi...of my heart." [the king...]
you smiled proudly.
"my heart...is a little biscuit."
julien already knew this sentence wasn't ending anywhere reasonable.
"...and you're...the hot milk."
you nodded to yourself.
"you melt me."
julien bit his lip.
"...i'm hot milk?"
"oui."
you giggled. "très chaud." [very hot]
he laughed quietly through his nose.
"good to know." "and your eyes..."
you leaned in until your noses were nearly touching.
"...tes yeux..." [your eyes]
you stared directly into them.
"...they're like...two very big chocolates."
julien blinked.
"...i want to eat them."
he blinked again.
"...but then you'd be blind...so i won't."
"...thank you for not eating my eyes." you continued as though he hadn't spoken.
"je t'aime...beaucoup de beaucoup." [i love you…so, so much]
you pointed dramatically at him.
"if you were a football..."
"...i would never kick you..never...i would hug you."
before he could react, you threw your arms around his neck and squeezed hard, very hard.
"like this." "mmph—"
julien made a very dignified choking noise.
"tu..."
you mumbled happily into his shoulder.
"...es mon pamplemousse."
he froze.
"...your grapefruit?"
"oui!"
you beamed.
"my grapefruit."
"sweet...but a little sour...when you say no more liquor...that's bars.."
then, without warning, your entire expression became deadly serious. you grabbed both of his cheeks. again.
"listen to me. julien loki."
he already knew he was about to hear the most ridiculous sentence of his life.
"if the world ended tomorrow..."
"...si c'était la fin du monde..." [if it was the end of the world...]
you poked him square in the chest.
"...i would find you...even if..i'm a pregnant hen... mhm."
you nodded firmly.
"...i will fly."
julien's heart physically hurt from how much he adored you.
"...hens can't fly, mon ange."
you thought about that. for a surprisingly long time.
"...i'll learn."
you declared proudly, then silence. your eyelids fluttered once, twice then your head slowly tipped onto his shoulder.
"...je t'aime..."
you murmured sleepily.
"...my pretty boy..."
julien smiled to himself, gently rubbing slow circles across your back as your breathing finally settled into a peaceful rhythm "...i love you too."
he kissed the top of your head "...my beautiful, pea-brained little hen."
for the next twenty minutes, there was peace. your breathing stayed slow and even, your tiny "pregnant hen" stomach rose and fell against his chest. julien was convinced the battle had finally been won. very carefully, he started shifting to carry you to bed, then—your eyes snapped open.
you shot upright like a vampire rising from a coffin, he barely dodged getting headbutted.
"julien!"
you gasped, grabbing both his shoulders, he immediately straightened.
"what? are you going to throw up again?"
"...non."
you whispered, completely serious.
"...the football..."
you patted your stomach.
"...is gone."
another pat.
"...regarde...no more football."
julien blinked.
"no longer full?" "oui." "...that's good."
"...but..."
your face crumpled. utter devastation.
"...i'm sticky."
you looked seconds away from tears.
"...je suis sale." [i am dirty]
you grabbed his hoodie.
"...julien."
"...i'm...unbathed."
julien slowly turned toward the clock, 11:00 p.m.
"...chérie."
he groaned, tipping his head back against the couch.
"...it's eleven at night, you can shower tomorrow. i'll put you in one of my shirts and—"
"NON."
you launched yourself out of his lap, though your legs immediately betrayed you. you wobbled so violently he'd instinctively reached out to catch you. still, you pointed a trembling finger at him with every ounce of royal dignity you could muster.
"jamais...i cannot sleep."
you gestured vaguely toward yourself.
"...with...paris grime...and liquor germs."
you looked utterly horrified.
"...je suis une princesse." [i am a princess]
you pressed both hands to your chest.
"princesses...do not sleep dirty."
julien looked at you, your hair resembled a bird's nest. your cheeks were bright pink and you were demanding a ceremonial midnight bath with complete sincerity...he didn't have the heart to refuse.
"...alright." he laughed quietly, pushing himself off the couch.
"come along, your majesty."
before you could topple over your own feet, he caught you securely around the waist. guiding you into the bathroom, adjusting the tap until the bath was the perfect warm temperature. while it filled, he carefully helped you out of your clothes with the patience of someone handling delicate glass. you, meanwhile, had become approximately ninety-five percent dead weight.
when he finally helped you into the tub, you practically melted.
"...ohhh..."
you sighed blissfully, sinking deeper beneath the bubbles.
"...oui...water..."
you pointed sleepily at julien.
"...you are...a very good boy."
you considered this carefully.
"...promotion."
"what an honor." julien deadpanned, lowering himself onto the closed toilet seat beside the tub. he grabbed the loofah, gently working soap across your shoulders.
"my coach is going to ask why i have bags under my eyes tomorrow."
he smiled to himself "...and i'm going to have to explain that i spent the night running a luxury spa for one extremely drunk princess."
without warning— your wet, soapy hand landed directly on his cheek.
plap.
a mountain of bubbles decorated his face.
"...tell him...you love me...très beaucoup."
julien snorted.
"...tell him..."
your eyes drifted closed.
"...your girlfriend...is la plus belle poule en france." [the most beautiful hen in france]
he gently wiped the bubbles from his cheek before leaning down to kiss the top of your damp head "...yeah" his smile softened into something impossibly fond.
"...i'll tell him exactly that."
━━━━
by the time julien finally coaxed you out of the bath, wrapped you in a fluffy towel, and wrestled you into one of his biggest, softest t-shirts... you were barely conscious, the bath had completely defeated whatever drunk gremlin had possessed you earlier.
you were clean. you smelled faintly of his lavender body wash and your stomach had finally stopped plotting against humanity.
"...bed," you whimpered, eyelids barely staying open as you reached toward him without looking.
"...lit..."
your hand flopped uselessly through the air.
"...julien...s'il te plaît..."
his expression softened instantly. then he scooped you into his arms for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "j'ai compris."
he carried you back into the bedroom, where the cool sheets waited beneath the heavy duvet. the second your head touched the pillow...
"...mmm..."
you made the happiest sound he'd heard all evening and within seconds, you had cocooned yourself beneath the blankets, curling into the tiniest little ball imaginable. julien let out a quiet sigh of relief, mission accomplished. he walked around to his side of the bed before finally collapsing onto the mattress.
he glanced toward the clock.
11:57 p.m.
he was exhausted and the moment his head hit the pillow, two warm arms immediately reached across the bed.
"...hm?"
before he could even react, you had already dragged yourself across the mattress, one leg thrown over his thigh, your face buried itself directly into his chest, like an exceptionally clingy koala.
"...julien."
your voice was barely more than a sleepy breath.
"hm?"
his hand automatically settled against your lower back, rubbing slow circles like it had developed muscle memory.
"...je t'aime..."
you mumbled.
"...no more..."
a tiny yawn interrupted you.
"...l'alcool...only you."
a quiet laugh escaped him. he pulled you impossibly closer until there wasn't even the slightest gap between your bodies.
"bonne nuit, mon ange."
he pressed a lingering kiss against your hair.
"sleep well."
another kiss.
"we have a lot of grammar to practice tomorrow."
there was no response, you were already asleep. the loud, chaotic, franglais-speaking pregnant hen had officially powered down.
━━━━
julien's body operated with the precision of an alarm clock. years of elite football had trained him to wake before sunrise without fail.
usually sometime around 4:30 a.m. today, his eyes opened at exactly 3:14 a.m. he frowned because something felt wrong, he shifted slightly. arm meeting nothing but cold sheets.
...
his eyes opened all the way, you were gone. he sat upright immediately. had you gotten sick again? were you currently losing another battle with the ghost of the coq au vin? without making a sound, he slipped out of bed and padded into the hallway. bathroom first. empty.
"...huh."
he wandered toward the living room instead and the second he stepped through the doorway, every ounce of tension left his shoulders, a helpless little laugh escaped him.
of course.
there you were.
back on the couch.
apparently sometime during the night, your half-asleep brain had decided that hydration was the single most important mission on earth. perched precariously on the coffee table sat an enormous pitcher of water beside a half-empty glass.
judging by the evidence...you had attempted to drink approximately the entire atlantic ocean but you hadn't gotten very far.
somewhere between glass number who-knows and don't die of dehydration, exhaustion had claimed another victim. you were curled sideways beneath a tangled mountain of blankets, absolutely unconscious, and from your adorable little nose came the tiniest rhythmic snores.
pffff... shhhh...
pffff... shhhh...
julien quietly stepped around the pitcher before kneeling beside the couch. he rested his chin in his hand, for a minute...he simply watched you. your cheeks were still faintly pink, your hair looked like you'd wrestled a tornado and lost. you looked impossibly peaceful.
"...you really are a menace." his voice was barely above a whisper, he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your forehead and your only response was a slightly louder snore. your nose twitched, then...
pffff... shhhh...
"...yeah. that's about what i expected."
the water pitcher had done its job. now you were just sleeping off the final consequences of that cheap l'alcool you found. julien sighed, surely there wasn't a chance he was going back to sleep without you. carefully, he slipped one arm beneath your knees and the other beneath your shoulders, you barely stirred.
only a tiny sleepy grunt escaped you as your face instinctively buried itself against his neck. even half-asleep... you still found him. he carried you back into the bedroom before tucking you beneath the duvet where you belonged.
the second he climbed in beside you, you latched onto him again, immediately, like a barnacle.
he chuckled quietly, within seconds, your breathing evened out once more. julien closed his eyes and somewhere between your sleepy little snores and the comforting weight of you curled against his chest...he fell asleep too.
━━━━
the sun wasn't simply shining through the curtains. it'd chosen to absolutely violate the shit out of you as every stray beam landed directly on your eyeballs with the precision of a military operation.
"...augh."
your head felt like a football julien had personally volleyed into the top corner. your mouth was drier than the sahara. your stomach was staging a peaceful protest, and somewhere behind your eyes, a tiny construction crew had apparently decided to start jackhammering.
you rolled over with the world's most pitiful groan, reaching blindly for your emotional support boyfriend. your personal pillow. your human weighted blanket. your hot milk.
…but it was empty and cold, so you opened one eye.
"..."
he wasn't there.
the betrayal was immediate and devastating.
how could he? you were fragile, and still recovering. you deserved to be gently cradled, fed water through a tiny straw, tucked into about sixteen blankets, told everything would be okay in a soothing french accent until the room stopped spinning.
instead...you were abandoned, left alone, left to perish. with the last of your strength, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, squinting through the blinding sunlight before furiously opening your messages.
to: juliboobs 🔥🔥🔥
julien loki u r a monster.
where r u.
i am dying of death.
and u left me.
i hate u.
its over. its jover.
were thru.
do not contact my lawyer. do not come to my town.
i am moving back across the ocean.
ITS OVER!!!!!!!!
with one final, exhausted huff, you tossed your phone onto the mattress. if julien refused to nurse you back to health...then you'd simply drag your own corpse to the kitchen. wrapped tightly in his oversized hoodie like the world's saddest burrito, you shuffled down the hallway with all the grace of an elderly penguin.
you rounded the corner and froze. the kitchen was empty but the counter, however...looked like something out of a breakfast commercial.
a huge plate of eggs. thick slices of toast. fresh fruit arranged so neatly it almost felt illegal to touch and beside it sat a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea, the citrus scent immediately making your poor little hangover brain sigh with relief. propped carefully against the mug was a folded note.
written in julien's neat, elegant handwriting.
bonjour, mon ange. i had to leave early for training and had a feeling you'd wake up feeling like a broken football ball. eat all of this. drink the honey lemon, it'll help your stomach and don't even think about touching any more liquor today. i love you. see you this afternoon, my pretty little hen. —julien
...
your heart went boum-boum, very hard. the guilt hit almost instantly. mon dieu.
you were the monster.
he had made you breakfast and left you medicine and written you a note, he'd even remembered your stupid "football ball" comparison.
he was an actual saint. you fumbled for your phone with the urgency of someone attempting to undo several crimes at once. your fingers flew across the keyboard.
to: juliboobs 🔥🔥🔥
WAIT WAIT IGNORE THOSE FIRST MESSAGES OLMGGGGGG
the food looks so good i cry 😭
u are the best franceboy in french
i love u bercoup very much!!!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
grande comme la tour eiffel!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
nearly a mile away. julien's phone buzzed quietly inside his gear bag, he didn't check it until water break and the moment he unlocked his screen, he stared then a helpless laugh escaped him. he lowered his head, shaking it fondly.
"...bercoup."
he muttered to himself.
"close enough."
he slipped his phone back into the bag, still smiling. yeah, his beautiful, franglais-speaking, pea-brained little hen...was definitely going to be just fine.
⋆₊° wait, so the girl you were talking to ended up being a guy?
( 〄 internet girl / katseye )
You had gone into this thinking: making friends online, yay! Surely nothing surprising or mind-boggling is going to result from this.
Big fat red buzzer.
〄 y/nnie : hello! r u chigiri? my friend kunigami gave me ur number
〄 reddemon : yea u must be y/n then
〄 y/nnie : yep! that's me
〄 y/nnie : kunigami mentioned you were fast?
〄 reddemon : not to brag but i was the fastest kid on my junior high's soccer team
〄 reddemon : so yeah im fast
〄 y/nnie : thats so cool! ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
〄 y/nnie : i wish i had a talent like that lol (╥﹏╥)
〄 reddemon : its cool but i kinda tore my acl in a past match
〄 reddemon : so like if i injure it again i kinda can't play soccer ever again.
〄 y/nnie : oh
〄 y/nnie : damn
〄 reddemon : wait sorry i didn't mean to trauma dump all over you
〄 y/nnie : NO NO its fine haha
〄 y/nnie : but i think it's pretty brave that you're still playing despite that risk
〄 reddemon : thanks ♡
Though you had been sweating bullets the entire time, Chigiri seemed pretty chill. Not to mention, having a talent like that was pretty cool. You stared up at your ceiling, unable to contain the grin making it's way onto your face.
You should thank Kunigami later on.
Conversation with Chigiri flowed naturally. The two of you talked about the most random things, and it just... worked. For some reason. Like, you both had an hour-long conversation that somehow warped itself from usernames to hair.
〄 y/nnie : I was curious
〄 y/nnie : whats the story behind ur user?
〄 reddemon : well people used to call me a speed demon and i have red hair
〄 reddemon : hence the name 'reddemon'
〄 y/nnie : woah that's cool asf!
〄 reddemon : ty
〄 y/nnie : can I see your hair?
〄 reddemon : yea sure why not
〄 reddemon :
〄 y/nnie : wtf
〄 y/nnie : FACE CARD SO GOOD IT MADE ME FORGET ABOUT THE ACL TEAR
〄 reddemon : son...
〄 y/nnie : wait was that too personal ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
〄 reddemon : no that was hilarious
〄 reddemon : you're funny plz dont go bald
Because of this, you had immediately assumed Chigiri was a girl. Yes, not your finest moment. Of course, you knew guys could be feminine, duh, but you and Chigiri flowed so well together that you thought: oh, this must be a fellow girlie!
〄 y/nnie : chigiriiii~ we should meet up
〄 y/nnie : im gonna be in tokyo this weekend
〄 reddemon : omg yea we should link up
〄 reddemon : i know a cute cafe we can meet up at
〄 reddemon : what about noon this saturday?
〄 y/nnie : ill be there!^^
You put on your cutest outfit, applied some lip gloss, and headed over to the cafe Chigiri recommended. Once there, you looked around for that familiar mop of red hair...
Ah! There she was! Chigiri sat at a table, scrolling on her phone with a disinterested look. But once she noticed you, she perked up and waved. You made your way over and sat down in front of her.
"Hi! It's so nice to see you in person." You chirped.
Chigiri, somehow, looked even more gorgeous in person than she did on camera. Her ruby hair was styled elegantly with the strands falling gracefully on her shoulders. Her fair skin was clear, her eyelashes were graceful curtains over her lidded eyes...
“Oh, hey! You must be Y/N.” Wow, even her voice was pretty. You sat there, transfixed by her beauty for a minute, before she snapped you out of your daze.
The two of you talked about how life was going, and the conversation was great... Then the waiter came over.
The waiter looked Chigiri up and down, then his face went pink. He took your order and quickly scrambled off. You thought it was pretty cute at first.
Then he came back with your food.
He looked over to Chigiri, shyly, "Um. You're really pretty."
Chigiri raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "Thank you."
"I was, um, wondering if I could get your number?"
You watched intently, curious about how Chigiri would react. Maybe she'd let him down gently, maybe she'd give him her number, maybe she'd even—
"I'm a man." Chigiri deadpanned. You could swear his (not her) voice dipped a bit lower while saying that.
You did not consider that reply whatsoever.
The poor waiter's face flushed red, and he apologized profusely before going to the kitchen to probably, I don't know, die in embarrassment.
After he left, you couldn't even eat your food because you were still reeling from the fact that this beautiful human in front of you was a guy.
Chigiri looked up, innocently, "What?"
You stammered out, "I—I—You're—"
He slowly blinked in confusion before realization set over his features, "Oh shit. You thought I was a girl too." You nod quickly.
A beat. And then you both burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation.
"It's fine. I get that a lot," He wipes away the tears threatening to bubble up from his laughter. "My teammates even call me princess."
"That's fitting." You blurt out without thinking, "Because you're... um... really, really pretty. Like 'I forgot how to speak' pretty." Your cheeks turn pink.
"If I didn't know better, I would've thought you had a crush on me."
"What? Pfft— no!" Yes.
A year later, you were curled up on your couch as Chigiri looked around for something he could use to tie his hair back. You waved a black hair tie in your hand, grinning.
He walked over to take it, but you pulled him over you when he tried to reach for it. He scowled but didn't pull away as he muttered, "You joke too much."
“shh… just a little more,” sae croons as his hands are latched onto your waist slowly pushing himself into you.
you whimper slightly at his size the head barely pushed through your folds and you’re already a whimpering mess.
“i’m gonna push a bit deeper now, okay?”
you nod letting out a shaky breath he leans forward pecking your forehead with a soft kiss before moving his hips pushing his cock deeper into you.
“ngh- shit,” sae curses under his breath before doing one big thrust shoving his whole size into you.
you both softly groan at the sensation his face moving to rest and lick along your neck.
“…so tight.”
he breathes as he slowly rolls his hips into you. he lifts his head and looks all over your body before seeing your tummy bulge with his cocks imprint.
his fingers move to glide along the bulge making him chew on his lower lip letting out a grunt.
“do you see that?” he says pressing his palm down on the imprint of his cock making you squirm.
“y…yeah.”
he continues to slam his cock into you, hitting your womb making you moan out.
his girthy thick cock filling your insides with each push of his hips.
“m’ so full sae…”
you breathe out feeling the intensity of his thrusts. he leans forward brushing strands of hair off your forehead pressing a kiss,
“yeah? you feel full of my cock?” “you like that don’t you?” he says with a smirk on his face.
his balls slapping against your ass and the lewd wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you echoing through the dark room.
you nod biting your lower lip you can’t even think straight at this point.
sae shakes his head and shoves two of his fingers in your mouth.
“ah ah. no biting those pretty lips. you’ll make em bleed.”
you nod and suck on his fingers to distract you from biting down so hard on your bottom lip.
he groans when he feels you suck on his fingers making him slam deeper into you. balls deep. having you both panting.
“fuck. i’m so close baby.” “keep sucking my fingers like that.” you suck harder on his fingers feeling his cock slam into you thrust after thrust.
his girthy cock sliding against your gummy walls making you moan around his fingers.
and with one final snap of his hips he lets out a breathy moan spilling his hot load into you.
his balls tightening as he cums spurt after spurt. his cum dripping out of your pussy. he pants leaning forward pressing his face against your neck.
“mmgh. you did so good today. you barely whined.” he says sucking on your neck.
“let’s clean my pretty girl up now, yeah?”
he says leaving his cock in you for a few more seconds before pulling out. his cum fully spilling out of your white covered walls.
making him smirk at the sight of it,
sliding his fingers down at his left over cum and shoving his two fingers back into your mouth making you lick his seed.
A/N:
sorry this is lowkey buns… this is what happens when you don’t write for a week and now you’re a luke warm writer („• - •„)
. . . wanting what cannot be had, tastes like the rot of the earth. something evil has grown in the seed, and it looks to conquer, consume, and ruin.
WARNINGS ── fem!reader 、brother in law!rin、rin is very mean 、infidelity 、name calling (bitch, gold-digger, etc) 、rin has *everybody* issues!!! 、original itoshi family members 、dysfunctional family dynamic 、angst (?) 、attempts at dry humor 、not super edited 、 suggestive, but still 、 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
SUPERNOTE 🫣🫣🫣 i was compelled by something beyond to write this fic. it would not leave me alone. For Months. i did have to tweak the idea, it was originally stepmom reader but i kept getting stuck, and i liked the idea more of exploring rin through his complicated relationship w sae (and my idea of the itoshi dynamics). one day, i'll write a bllk fic w no cheating n no duos..today is not that day! anyway, enjoy this one cuz i put my whole heart into it!! <3 reblogs & comments super appreciated!!! (p.s. thank you all for the kind comments on spread my wings ! it truly makes me confident in writing these crazy [and rly long] fics. i love my little community dearly ☺️)
WORD COUNT 17.8k
SAE ITOSHI IS GETTING MARRIED. It’s all anybody can talk about; it’s the only thing in the world that matters.
It's the biggest deal ever. In four months, the wedding will happen, and the world will finally spin again. Until then, it’s cheering and hugging and so much fucking parading: the great Sae Itoshi is becoming a kept man, and his wife-to-be, you, is the luckiest woman in the world. People would kill to be you, to be in your shoes, to have the Sae Itoshi half-hug around your waist, matching engagement bands shining in the camera flashes. For someone so private, his love sure seems to be loud and very, very obnoxious.
The first time anybody really met you was the engagement announcement. Sae doesn't come around often, and when he does, he doesn't linger. He leaves breadcrumbs of his life behind—there’s a large wall between him and his family, and he never breaches that barrier. Everyone knew he was seeing someone, no one ever pried. One day, he called home, asking to meet over brunch. The Itoshi’s were so excited, save for Rin, they were half an hour early. He showed up, not alone. He stood at the corner of the table, one hand on your lower back, the other directing toward his family members, formally introducing them. And then he said your name. And then he said,
“She’s my fiancée.” And everybody’s face fell.
Risu Itoshi took a demure sip of her mimosa and tilted her head to the right. “What?” she asked. Her voice was so high; it was evident she was trying to be composed and kind, but there was so much confusion and concern that she couldn't help but sound fake. “When..did this happen?”
“I proposed a month ago,” Sae replied, evenly, undeterred, like his family’s skewed expressions didn't mean a thing. “We’re starting to plan the wedding. I wanted to ask Dad if he’ll be my best man.”
And then it was Yasuo’s turn to take a small sip, but it did nothing against the clamminess in his mouth. He was almost lost for words. He sputtered, and then he laughed, “O-of course I will, Sae. But…we don't know anything about your relationship, let alone your fiancée—”
“That's why we’re here now.”
He took a seat beside his mother, you following suit timidly. Your hand raised in a small, unsure wave, “It’s nice to finally meet everyone.”
The first thing Rin noticed was that you’re nervous. That smile stretched across your lips is wavering and mild, like a farce you're fraught to let fall. He zeroed in on you, stripping you piece by piece with those sharp, scrutinizing eyes, and could only bring himself to scoff. Only Sae could get away with something so mediocre—like melting chocolate dressed in imitation gold, like a big fat joke.
You’d all begun talking amongst yourselves, how are you; what do you do for a living; have your parents met Sae; Rin is unimpressed, uninterested, and uncaring.
His hand practically beats the table down, the silverware clattering. “And for me?” he asked, tone thick and lined with anger. It startled you. Everyone else seemed unfazed, almost expectant of the outburst.
“I figured you wouldn't want to be in the wedding,” Sae shrugged.
He’d told you some about his skewed family relationship, the strain between him and Rin. You knew he was holding back, maybe out of fear or guilt, and you never asked further. It never made sense to you, but at some point, you just began to reason that they just grew apart, as siblings do. It’s just a part of life.
But this brunch was fueled by much, much more than distance. There was business long since buried, yet still alive, clawing its way into the peaceful scene. A morning, adorned by spring showers and posh decor, ripped right open, and out came a bound of blue blaze.
“I don’t,” Rin said, “wouldn’t wanna be the shitty pest that ruins your big moment.”
Everyone sighed. You looked around, so confused, so caught in the crossfire, unsure if you should succeed or respond.
Sae shook his head, “Don’t,” is all he said.
“Let’s be civil, Rin,” Risu said. Her words were almost a plea. Her face was screwed softly, lines of weariness pulling across her skin.
Her husband put a kind hand on hers, to back her up. The small mannerisms that show so much love, that say so much without a word ever passing. You softened slightly looking at it, but immediately felt a shift when you looked up at Mr Itoshi.
His face was so sharp—cleanly upset. You'd never seen a man be so mad, and never seen an expression so…disgusted until then. It wasn't toward you or Sae; it was to Rin, who didn't look too pleased, either.
“Civil,” he scoffed, “what a fucking joke.”
“Rin,” Yasuo whispered.
“I didn't come here to fight,” Sae said.
You leaned into his side, holding on to his arm. Something about it felt safe, maybe more like a shield. You tried to catch Rin’s gaze, “I would love it if you would join the wedding party. It means so much to me that Sae’s family is involved.”
His eyes cut to you. You swallowed thickly.
“Don't talk down to me. I don't need your pity.”
“I'm not— I wasn't trying to—”
He wouldn't let you talk. He looked back to his brother and took a sharp inhale, “You would marry this meek, mousy bitch before making up with me? Some fucking big brother you are.”
“Rin!” Their mother gasped.
“You need to get over yourself, Rin.”
“You first,” he snapped back, “you leave us behind and come back and we’re just supposed to drop to our knees and hail the king?” And then he looked back at you. You could feel your entire body being appraised, every flaw and secret coming to dawn. It made you shift uncomfortably, and hold on to Sae a little tighter. “And her? Is that the best you can do? This glamorous, better life than us you live gives you her?”
Yasuo turned to his son, “Stop it, Rin. Seriously.”
“We weren't both supposed to be the fuck-ups. You're supposed to be better than me; I'm supposed to look up to you, but you're just an idiot who wants to marry a gold digger—”
And their father’d had enough. He pushed Rin up and out from the table, grabbing Rin by his jacket and tugging him out of the booth, scooting out behind him. It was mildly rough, hard to watch, as Rin tried to resist his father’s strength.
But Yasuo had stayed undeterred, his lips balled into a tight circle as he kept repeating Get up, get up right now.
Your eyes shifted around, embarrassed and concerned. Risu patted her flushing cheeks, breathing lowly to herself. Yasuo and Rin practically wrestled their way out of the restaurant—the rest of which was undeterred: peaceful brunches and busy workers kept at it, like this wasn't a spectacle or mildly annoying. It bothered you, had your stomach quickly swirling into knots, killing your appetite and your excitement. Yet, you hadn't stopped smiling. That, itself, was a shield.
Risu gulped down the rest of her mimosa. Sae sighed, and he looked toward you. You could see the fluster slowly rising under his expression; you could see him trying not to show it. His breathing was slightly uneven, the tips of his ears were glowing warm, and he couldn't sit still, not totally. You brought yourself to ask him quietly, “Are you okay?”
He shook his head; not an answer, just dispelling your concern. “Let’s save it for later.”
And just like that, he and his mother were launched into conversation. What type of flowers at the wedding, the catering, the venue, the ideal weather…the things so far gone in your mind.
Behind Risu sat a large window. Rain slithered down the glass, and through the streaks, you could find Yasuo and Rin: the latter a shadow against the wall, a victim of beration. A finger in his face, then against his chest, and then he returned the favor, and then Risu followed your gaze.
She sighed heavily, taking Yasuo’s sweaty glass and swigging generously, and reupped her smile. “Please, don't let them bother you, or let them change your perception of us,” her voice, again, was almost a plea. Her expression was not soothing, especially not against the backdrop of her husband and son going at it furiously.
There was a secret beneath the Itoshi name, something they wanted to bed, but it was defiant and hungry. It chewed at the seams, and inched beneath your skin, wrapping around your brain. You returned her uneasy smile, just to make her feel better, but you couldn't stop looking around her head, watching.
“It's fine,” you told her, “I was expecting some polarization. It won't always be like this.”
Risu’s smile wavered. She finished Yasuo’s glass, raising it high. “Here’s hoping.”
The next day, you and Sae were trudging into his childhood home, stacks of luggage dancing wildly behind you. Risu wanted you close by before the wedding. She wanted to get to know you, she said; you shouldn't stay cooped up in that penthouse, she told Sae. He didn't want to, but you acquiesced. It was too hard to say no, especially with how Risu was looking at you. She has eyes just like her sons; they don't want for naught, but they ask less; they expect of you.
He was upset with you, but he didn't hold it against you. The hand set reassuringly on your shoulder amended that. But you couldn't help but feel weird…there was something at the doorstep of the Itoshi home—closer to an estate—that crept up your back, under your skin. Something that made your hands clammy and your stomach twist and turn—something just like what lay beneath the name, if not the same terror itself.
The home is a lovely shade of brown, a homely color, decorated with sea-glass blues, greens, and pale peaches. Family photos adorned the walls, alongside trinkets and trophies that culminated years of success. More than a home, it stands like a museum, a shrine to the perfect family. Yasuo’d told you it was all right to leave your bags in the foyer, and you stood there, at the summit of a rich mountain like a curious deer. Wide-eyed and dumb—naive, more than anything.
Sae’s childhood room—your new room, until the wedding—sits on the east wing of the house. Down a long, dim hallway, courtesy of another rainy day, across the hall from Rin’s. Yasuo laughed as he gave you directions, “You’ll know which one is Rin’s when you see it,” he said, holding the door wide for your fiancé.
Rin’s door was tattered. Decorated with chipping wood and scratches, and a petulant sign that reads ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ over the white remnants of stickers that spelled his name. Sae’s door was bland, but you could still see the outline of where the stickers lay. It was the only corner of the Itoshi home where some truth dared to slip out.
As you pushed Sae’s door open with your foot, the one behind you creaked open. You swallowed before you turned around, and then sighed softly before you looked up. “Hi Rin,” you smiled, “Did I wake you up or something? Sorry—”
“I’ve been awake,” he replied.
The talking stalled as you nodded, rolling your lips nervously.
You tapped your foot out of habit. That was something that Rin noticed at brunch, when he and Yasuo finally returned: you’re jittery, you tick. Your leg was vibrating under the table, and Sae had to physically subdue you. And then you chewed on your lip like you were hungry, but you couldn’t be bothered to touch your plate. Meek and mousy, like he’d said—weak.
“Are you excited, Rin? I know it’s been a while since your brother was home, and this time, it’s for something so—”
“I don’t really give a shit,” he interrupted. Your words died in your throat. You smacked your lips together to regain some moisture, something to disrupt the uneasiness bedding on your tongue. “I don’t give a shit about either of you or your fucking wedding. My parents don’t, either; they just need something to do other than bothering me. So do me a favor: fuck off. Tell Sae to do what he’s good at and leave me alone.”
He started down the hallway, his door slamming against the moulding. You jumped, shaken by his tone and his presence: both looming figures, both attempting to shrink you.
Perhaps for the first time in a while, you were defiant. “Rin!” You called after him. He hesitated to stop, only lingering for a moment. “I’m not gonna just give up!”
Words came from him, mumbled and lost through the distance. A part of you didn’t want to know what he said, knowing it’d be hurtful. But the majority of you itched to ask him, to know what he felt, what he thought. His anger was a good mask; it kept you physically at bay, but curiosity knows no bounds.
It kept you standing there longer than you should have, watching. Watching as Sae came down the hallway, lugging your ridiculous carry-ons on his shoulders. Watching as they crossed paths—as Rin looked down at his older brother, their gazes said a million words amid the silence. Even in how the light fell on them: Rin shadowed, and Sae christened, walking separate ways, but finding each other at a crossroads. This is no regular sibling rivalry or disconnection, not with that much unspoken pain.
You’d gone into the room as Sae approached, setting the box of his things at the head of his bed. You were dusting your sweaty palms as he came in, turning around and tucking them into your back pockets. “Hey,” you breathed.
“You okay?” He asked, sparing you a glance.
“Tired,” you replied. A white lie over your grand maze of answers. “I tried to talk to Rin a little…”
“Oh,”
“Yeah…” You could tell he wasn’t trying to pry, and he didn’t want you to fill in the gap. Every time his little brother was mentioned, Sae looked oddly sick—covertly enough, but you could see it. If only you perfected reading him. “What’s really going on between you?”
His back stayed to you. Your bags were long placed on the floor, but it was like he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He just rolled his shoulders, looking straight into the wall, “Nothing,” he said, evenly, “not anymore. Not on my side. He hasn’t gotten over it yet.”
“Over what?”
“An argument we had a long time ago.”
It was said like it was supposed to be the end, but curiosity got the better of you. You stepped behind him, sliding your arms under his and palming your way up his chest. You breathed against his back, head slotting into his neck. You stayed like that for a moment, holding him. He was soft in your arms, he always was.
After a few beats of quiet, rainfall filling the silence, you finally spoke. “Have you ever apologized to him?”
Sae took a few moments to reply. “I don’t need to.”
He slithered from your hold. You caught his arm, keeping him from walking away. “Sae,” the way you said his name was a plea to stay, to listen. He exhaled deeply, letting you know that he was acquiescing. “Please talk to him. I hate this energy…I’m so uncomfortable. I want us to get married in a good environment, no fighting, no animosity, so, please. Whatever it is he wants to hear, just say it. For me?”
You made eye contact. There was promise in those sea greens.
He nodded, “Okay.”
You were alone in the room. Sae told you he’d grab the rest of your bags. So you sat on the bed, running your hands along the quilt, accompanied by the rain. His bedroom looked like how a twelve-year-old’s room would look, but so neat, so perfect. There were no photos, save for one in the windowsill, drenched in raindrops and jaded by age. You could see the image from your seat: it was of little Rin and Sae, no older than ten years old, hugging tightly, a football beneath their feet. Their grins were toothy and boyish, unbound. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Sae smile like that.
Maybe if they made up, you would. Maybe your wedding means more to the family than you’d anticipated, and maybe that’s okay.
The rain decrescendoed, and the sun slowly started to pull through. You took that as a sign.
—-----
Risu had you setting the table. Grayish-brown ceramic bowls holding fresh gyudon were taken one by one to the table. Yasuo sat eagerly in his place. Sae was in the bathroom. Risu was in the kitchen, ordering cups and pitchers onto a tray.
You came in to grab the last bowl, Yasuo’s bowl, and Risu followed slowly behind you. You forked off, taking the left while she went right, setting dishes on the table in a lagging synchrony. Yasuo chuckled heartily, clapping his hands together.
“Oh, I’m starving!” Yasuo grinned.
You smiled back at him. “Long day at the office?”
“Always,” he replied, fingers drumming readily against the table.
Risu took to her end of the table, pulling her chair out, a knowing smirk across her lips. “It doesn’t matter what kind of day he’s had, he’s always ready to eat. A gluttonous fool.”
“I’m always ready to eat your food, dear,” he said, slyly, a wink in tow. You smiled sheepishly—they’re an affectionate couple, more than you’ve ever seen or been. It must feel good, you figured, for love to be reaffirmed every single day, in every single way.
Sae emerged from the bathroom. At the same time, Rin stepped out from the hall, head low, energy defiant. He stalked right past the table, making a line straight for the door. He and Sae crossed paths only for a second, but it was long enough for Risu to call for her son, asking, as sternly as she could, for him to join you.
“I’m not hungry,” Rin replied.
“Well, where are you going?” Yasuo asked, and Rin visibly tensed.
“Out.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Rin. Sit down.”
“We’ve already set the table. Just..come and eat, and you can step out after.” Risu tried to reason.
Sae stood to your left, his hand tenderly on your back. You kissed his cheek, a new habit you were trying to adopt—affection. He had no reaction; he just took his seat. “Just leave him be, Mom,” he said, “the food will get cold waiting for him.”
“No…I–I made this nice dinner for us, I want us to have dinner together.” There went her strength, wriggled out of her, leaving her almost petulant, disappointed. She sounded weak and heartbroken. Meek, like how Rin’d described you. You started to understand something then. “Whatever it is you have to do, it can wait until after dinner, Rin. Please? Come sit.”
All eyes were on him. But he was looking at you. At Sae. Like he was cursing you with his gaze alone.
You began to shrink, gulping down thick breaths and spit, feeding the pit in your stomach with anxiety. You turned back to the table, matching Risu’s softened expression, “Maybe we should just let him go…”
“He’s not going anywhere,” Yasuo spoke. That voice, commanding like thunder. You were all forced to look at him. The humor that etched onto his olive skin was long gone—he was pressed, bothered and angry. He pointed a finger at Rin, “You’re not going anywhere. Sit your ass down at this table. I’m not going to tell you again.”
Rin finally looked at his father. They shared a long stare, accompanied by a long, thick silence. You could hear a needle drop in that room. It was deathly.
It was a long minute. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Rin acquiesced, turning on his heels and heading for the table. He sat to the right, straight across from you, beside his mother, a chair’s width between him and his father.
Risu put her hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t reply.
He didn’t even look at her. His eyes seemed to be on you, but they were through you—glossy and low. His jaw was clenched, his lips pursed. He yanked his arm away from his mother. She sighed in defeat, but tried to smile anyway. “Let’s eat.”
“Take your hood off, Rin.” Yasuo ordered.
The defiance had left him—he obliged, ripping the dark hood off his head. His hair was shaggy and disgruntled, and he shook his head, sweeping the tufts over his eyes. Like a shield. Like a child. He sulked like a child.
And like a switch had flipped, Yasuo was bright again. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, “Thank you for the meal!” he chirped, picking up his chopsticks.
You, Risu, and Sae parroted him, but only they moved to eat. Just like brunch, your appetite had been subdued. You looked at Rin with these wet, pitiful eyes, and you wanted to check on him. The question was on the tip of your tongue, but Sae took it from you. He tapped your forearm, catching your attention, “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” you muttered. You picked up your chopsticks to prove your point, feeding yourself a small portion of beef and rice. He didn’t pry further; he just nodded and continued to eat.
Yasuo called your name, “How’s the food?” He asked.
You smiled softly, “Delicious. It’s been a while since I’ve had a nice home-cooked meal.”
“You don’t cook?”
“Not often, no,” you answered nervously. “Sae prefers to cook, but sometimes, our schedules don’t align for dinner. Reheated food is nothing like a fresh meal.”
“You should make the time for each other,” Yasuo said.
You laughed nervously again. Rin spared a glance through his bangs.
“It’s not that easy. We’re busy,” Sae reasoned. Yasuo wasn’t having that—he clicked his tongue.
“It’s not going to get any easier with marriage. You have to make the time for each other.”
“Yasuo—” Risu’s voice died instantly as he kept speaking.
“Dinner should be the non-negotiable. No matter what, every night, you come back to each other and you eat. You release together.”
“Missing a few meals together isn’t the end of the world.” You kept trying to laugh, to lighten the mood. Your nervous chuckles just made the air thicker. Yasuo’s glare silenced you.
He shook his head, leaning back into his seat. “No, it isn’t. But it might be the end of your relationship.” He wiped his mouth, then scooted his chair back. “Excuse me.”
You seriously weren’t hungry anymore. You felt so embarrassed. “Excuse me as well,” you said, your voice breaking.
As soon as the bathroom door closed, you gasped a breath into the sink, tears slowly slipping out.
—-----
“He didn’t mean it like that.”
“It still hurt my feelings, Sae!”
He tucked his lips, folding his arms. You continued to pace back and forth, blinking furiously to keep yourself from crying.
For the last twenty minutes, you and Sae have been arguing. It took you five minutes to return to the dinner table, and you hadn’t much to say after that. The tension at the table was killer. As soon as dinner was over, you excused yourself to the room, with Sae following after you for damage control. He’s not hearing you—or, maybe he doesn’t want to.
“All I want is for you to tell your dad that he shouldn’t say stuff like that. Especially when we’re about to get fucking married.”
“I hear you, I understand that. I just want you to know that he wasn’t trying to doom our relationship to end. He’s old; he and my mom have been married for almost thirty years. They’re words of wisdom,” Sae stood up, and your pacing ceased. You pouted, hesitant to look him in the eyes. “Would something like this really be the difference between us getting married?”
You swallowed, “I don’t want it to…but—”
“But?”
“But he’s your dad. And he’s right. We can’t even make time for each other now, what’s gonna happen in five, ten years? I don’t want our whole relationship to be us waiting on each other—”
“You think all we do is wait on each other?”
“I think I wait on you. A lot.”
Sae nodded, his lips rolling and pursing. He took a step back, then another. “Okay,” he said, lowly. He wasn’t defeated, just depleted. You instantly felt bad, but you had no words. “Sorry.”
The conversation wasn’t over—really, it was just beginning—but you both were speechless. You accepted defeat, chewing on your lip to keep from crying. And you just walked out of the room.
And you kept walking. Walking right out of the house, mindlessly into the rain. It wasn’t that mindless when you ended up at a 7/11, in line buying a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
You’d stopped smoking when you and Sae started dating—he wanted you to. It wasn’t healthy. But it feels good in the moment. It feels good to exhale your problems into a cloud of smoke. To watch it dissipate. To have your head a little lighter, even if just for a few minutes.
The rain had tempered off into a steady trickle. You stood under the awning of a neighboring boutique, keeping the flame of your cig protected. You were still soggy, disgustingly so, but your head was clearer than ever. That’s all that mattered.
“My brother know you smoke those?”
You nearly jumped out of your skin. The cigarette fell out of your hand, and the light was subsequently stomped out. You looked at Rin with a bit of anger. “Did you follow me here?”
He wordlessly raised his right hand, a plastic black bag hanging from his fingers. You could hear the glass clinking. You cocked your head, “You drink?”
“You smoke?”
Your tongue runs across your teeth. Rin’s expression doesn’t move an inch.
“Where are you headed?” You asked.
Rin’s gaze shifted beyond you. “Doesn’t matter. Mind your business.”
You scoffed, then laughed dryly. “What is it with your family? Jesus…”
“Who knows,” he said lowly. More to himself than to you. And then he shrugged. “It’s not too late to tuck your tail and run away. Nobody would blame you.”
“Are you trying to get me to leave your brother? Why?”
Rin dragged his eyes to you, and they jumped all over your face before landing on your eyes. You only held eye contact for a few moments before you looked down at the ground, rocking on your feet. He didn’t say anything; neither did you.
He just started to walk past you, away from you. Leaving you under the awning, leaving you in this weird bubble of tension. Almost like it had a cue, thunder clapped, a bolt of lightning struck a ways away, and the rain picked up again.
You just lit another cigarette.
—-----
Life in the Itoshi home didn’t get any better. They do a good job of pretending, though. For the most part, anyway.
They don’t rehash conflicts; they pretend like it never happened. What happened at brunch, and then at dinner, and everything after that, was buried. You came back from 7/11 and Sae had fallen fast asleep. You woke up the next morning and he was gone. Risu was in the kitchen, making breakfast, like everything was normal. When you’d asked her, she said everything was fine. “Sae and Yasuo went to the gym,” she hummed.
“And Rin?” You asked. You still don’t know why.
She hesitated to answer. You still don’t know why. “He’s sleeping.”
And that’s how every day has gone. Tense monotony, like there’s a mask daring to slip. It feels like you’re living in a dark cave, where a bear sleeps in the shadows—one wrong move, and you’ll be mauled to death.
So you sit with angular tension—erect and stiff, aware and vigilant. You mind the way you hold the glass, the way your legs are folded, the proximity between you and Risu. Subconsciously, you’ve even mirrored her breaths. Anything to keep the threat at bay.
Risu has set a thick photobook on her left thigh, your right, and seven minutes have passed going through the Itoshi family history. It started with Risu and Yasuo’s wedding: a traditional one, a small one, a cheap one, she narrated. Then she was pregnant, three years in the making, and finally, something. Someone. Her baby boy, Sae.
At birth, he looked just like his mother. They have similarities now—their eyes, cheekbones, lip shape—but he was the spitting image of her. It made you wonder: if you and Sae had kids, what would they look like? You never talked about kids. You figure he’d prefer life without them.
What would you prefer?
“I really wanted a girl,” Risu said, running her fingers along the laminated page. “Always wanted a daughter. …That’s why I kept his hair long; he looked like a pretty princess, and I could run my hands through it, and braid it…but it was starting to be too much, in his eyes a lot. He cut his bangs with kitchen shears. I almost had a heart attack!”
You laughed lightly with her. There was a cloudiness in her eyes, and you could see it slowly overtaking her. She swallowed thickly, looking at you for a moment. “Yeah,” she breathed, “He never let me touch his hair again. He doesn’t like it.”
“Sometimes he’ll let me,” you took a sip of your neglected wine, “only when he’s too tired to fight, really.”
Risu laughed at that. You stayed quiet, sipping again.
“Stubborn little shit.” She flipped the page, taking a breath. The next sets of photos were Sae and Rin: bathing, playing, eating, napping, being boys, being brothers. “Both of my boys. Always so stubborn, so headstrong, even as kids. Though, it didn’t used to handicap them the way it does now.”
“I think it’s admirable…in some ways. I tell Sae all the time that I wish I could be as honest and forward as he is.”
“It’s a blessing and a curse.” Risu turned the page again. She didn’t see you exhale heavily, or the generous swig of wine you took.
There it goes again—that sleeping bear. Grumbling, stirring, warning you.
You set the glass down. You pointed a finger at a picture, center page: Rin and Sae on Yasuo’s shoulders, the boys holding a football atop his head. “So, you were always a football family?” You asked.
Risu shrugged. “It was how Yasuo connected to the boys. And then it became their thing; nobody could pull them away from it, from each other.”
The question began eating away at you. It always finds its way into your head, without fail. One day, it will yield results. You stayed quiet, mulling it over in your head. The moment seemed promising—Risu seemed promising. So, you asked,
“What did? Pull them away from each other, I mean?”
Risu’s lips rolled, and then pressed thin. It took her a moment to look at you, but when she finally did, her expression was unreadable. She raised her eyebrows and shoulders, and they dropped in one fell, almost defeated, swoop. “I don’t know,” she said. Her voice got a little quieter as she continued, “I wish I did.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Sae entered the living room. His brows furrowed at the sight of you and his mother, maybe even feeling the thickness in the atmosphere, and he steadied his pace further.
“Everything alright?” He asked, coming behind the couch. He put a hand on your shoulder and you held it, held him, quite tight.
You nodded, but Risu answered, “Mhm. Just took a trip down memory lane.”
Sae put his other hand on his mother’s shoulder. “You know that old book makes you sad. You should stop looking in it.”
Risu looked at you, and her eyes were saying, Exhibit A: Sae is proving her point. Her smile was fake, it’s almost pained. Her eyes flickered up to her son, and she patted his hand on her shoulder. She breathed a quiet “Yeah,” and swiftly closed the book, standing up and excusing herself.
She went to the kitchen, stopping right at the threshold, and turning back. “How does takeout sound tonight?”
You looked again at Sae. He looked a bit confused. You gave Risu a look that hopefully said what you were thinking.
“Takeout sounds good.”
—-----
Your first month in the Itoshi home brought you confusion, conflict, restlessness, and a cold. Three days passed with your body under attack, and despite what everyone chose to believe, you were feeling better.
You were quarantined to the bedroom, with Sae sleeping in the guest room until further notice. That day, another rainy Friday, you were able to come out.
The Itoshis had booked an appointment with some florists, as well as three different restaurants for catering. You were supposed to go, and they were adamant about rescheduling so you could be in attendance, but you weaved your way out of that. A cough here, a sniffle there, a particularly sinus-y drawl of “I need to rest,” and they acceded.
Sae wasn’t so sure about leaving you alone. But a part of it sounded like he wasn’t sure about making decisions without you. You still haven’t decided if that’s romantic or not.
You waved him off, “It’s fine, you’ll be fine. You know me. Just pick whatever you think we’ll both like.”
And as they were walking out of the door, Yasuo stopped, placing his card on the side table. “The Chinese restaurant a few blocks away has a great wonton soup; it’ll help you feel better.”
With that, they were gone. You watched them drive off, and as soon as the car was out of sight, you dropped the blanket from around your shoulders and danced excitedly. You felt like a kid who was finally left home alone—like you were ready to raid their pantry and snoop around and maybe even invite a few friends over. The excitement was really for the solitude. For the first time in a month, you would be left alone. Even if it was for just a few hours. It was a few hours of alonetime, of peace, and that was enticing.
The first thing you did was plop on the couch, burying your feet into the cushions. Risu doesn’t like feet on her couch—Sae must have picked that up from her. That’s the good thing about your schedules opposing: you can do things you truly want, you can act at your truest.
You turned the TV on, and you turned it up. Trashy, mindless drama filled the dead space with life, with your laughter. You’ve been feeling suffocated, and this was your first breath.
About an hour passed, full of loud TV and doomscrolling, and you found yourself fit for a drink. Sae texted to check in on you, with a picture of the color palette his mother picked out. Reds, purples, oranges, a sunset theme. You simply replied, ‘Cute’.
And then you walked to the kitchen. Hopefully Risu wouldn’t notice that you helped yourself to her special orange wine. You pulled a glass from the cupboard and took it to the sink to rinse it. You turned the faucet on, gazing out of the wide window as you let the glass run under the water. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t freeze because you saw Rin.
You didn’t even know he was home. Yasuo made it sound like he was out with friends.
It made you wonder if they even bothered to check. What was he supposed to eat?
“Hey, Rin!” You found yourself at the back door, waving your hand to catch his attention. The rain had stopped some indeterminate time ago, but it was still dim and gray outside. The clouds looked threatening, but that didn’t keep Rin from playing solo in the yard, the black-and-white ball a blur between his fast feet.
You couldn’t tell if he couldn’t hear you or if he was ignoring you. It wasn’t until he shot the ball, forcefully and quickly, right into the side of the goalpost, that he looked at you. He was mad, maybe at you, or maybe at his shitty attempt, but he didn’t say anything.
It took you a minute to say something. “Are you hungry?!”
You hadn’t imagined Rin would humor you, let alone walk with you to the Chinese restaurant. He had his hoodie over his snapback cap and his head low, seldom glancing at you, let alone making eye contact. His silence was to be expected.
But there’s something in it, or something about it, that feels nice. Not suffocating, not in the Itoshi way. Like you have nothing to say, and contrary to the norm, that’s okay.
It was a twenty-three-minute walk to the restaurant. A part of you wished you’d just ordered in, but the sweat was worth the fresh, dewy air in your lungs, and the crisp May air against your skin. You’ve been cooped up in that house, losing your mind. This was an exciting moment.
The restaurant was small and busy. It was a Friday evening, after all. You and Rin stood in the order queue, quite, unfortunately, close. You stood with your back against the wall, so your right arm was pressed against Rin’s front. He didn’t look any happier about it than you did, so you thought you’d alleviate the tension.
“Do you come here often, Rin?”
“No.”
He didn’t even look at you as he replied. His voice was as hard as ever. It made you a bit nervous to continue—you hesitated, your teeth scraping against your tongue.
“What’s your favorite thing to get from here?”
He took a moment to reply, eyes still avoiding your presence, “...Wonton soup.” He answered.
“Order 369!” The efficient cashier sang. You’d repeated the number under your breath when you received your ticket, so you instantly shifted your attention.
But for a moment, you lingered. “I wonder if it’s worth the hype,” you said, a little light, a little playful. An attempt to break the ice, but Rin is stubborn.
He just looked at you, eyes narrowed and gaze unamused. It made you smile.
“Anyone told you that you two are just alike?” You asked, still smiling. His face slightly creased. “You and Sae, I mean.”
“Shut up and get the food.”
The bag swung in between you as you walked back down the street. It was golden outside: the sun had finally broken through the cloudfront to sink visibly into the night. A chill still lingered in the breeze, but the air felt a lot sweeter, a lot fresher.
You breathed in deeply, then coughed out your exhale.
Rin’s face screwed up. “You’re stupid.”
“Um…?”
“...Coming out here like that. You’re sick. You should be at home.”
“And what? You would take care of me?”
It got quiet between the two of you. Rin only cut you a glance. You clicked your tongue, “Exactly. I’m fine. It’s just stress.”
Rin looked down at you—you still looked sick, with sunken eyes and puffy cheeks and a runny nose. How Sae could be with a woman so reckless, so gross is beyond him. He just doesn’t understand what it is about you.
He rolled his eyes, tucking his hands deeper in his jacket pockets. “Why doesn’t Sae take care of you?”
It was said lowly; he meant to mumble, but you caught him. You caught the sarcasm and the weight all the same. A part of you asked yourself the same question, but you always arrive back at the same answer:
“He’s busy.”
“Too busy to care about you,” he replied. It sounded like a question and a statement.
Your lips pursed, and your eyes narrowed, “No…” you drawled, “he cares about me. I’m his fiancée—he’s your brother, you know he wouldn’t try to marry me if he didn’t care.”
Again, another grumble set too loud tumbled from Rin’s mouth: “I don’t know anything about him.”
And you went to reply. Mouth open and a million words ready to tumble out, but you paused. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out. Almost like he had a cue, Sae texted. ‘Finally at restaurant 3. Mom is dragging this out. Don’t wait up, get some rest.’ He said.
You held the screen up to Rin, your tongue poking out as though you’d won. “He cares,” you reiterated, exaggeratedly. “Told you.”
“Congratulations. I don’t give a shit.”
“He cares about you too, Rin.” You don’t know why you said it, it just slipped out. Maybe it was that look on his face or that tone—maybe it’s still that tension you walked into, and it’s still eating away at you and your relationship and possibly, your immune system.
You know Sae hadn’t spoken to Rin despite saying he would. You didn’t know if he ever would. They seem to hate each other, so desperately: it’s better to be mad than to be truthful. Defeat is more violent than deception. You just wished that someone in that family would speak to you normally. Maybe they could start forgiving each other.
“He’s not..y’know…good at showing it. You guys don’t seem like the most stable family so give each other some grace,” your smile was weak, your voice even more so. Rin had an expression like he could explode you with his mind. “I know you care about him too.”
“Shut up,” Rin said. He didn’t take kindly to your elbow nudging him. He found himself pushing you back, albeit rougher. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. So shut up, and mind your damn business.”
“Maybe if someone told me what’s really going on, I’d know what I’m talking about.”
“...That’s for your fiancé to tell you.”
“He won’t tell me anything. Your own parents don’t even know,” you fully turned to face Rin, taking advantage of the stalling crosswalk. You somehow looked even meeker: a crumpled paper doll pressed back out, pity and stress finely lined on your expression. “Was what happened really that bad?”
Rin kept his teeth sunken in his tongue. The street signal turned, and it was time to cross. He didn’t answer you; he started walking away.
You clicked your tongue, more annoyed this time, taking quickly after him.
“If you won’t tell me, will you at least not punish me for it?” You asked, catching up to Rin.
He looked down at you, right in your eyes. Again, that gaze—piercing, like he was reading through you, seeing you raw. Your skin started to crawl. “I’m not punishing you for it. I don’t care about you.”
—-----
Sae and his parents didn’t get back to the house until 8PM.
You and Rin arrived back home at 6:15, and you ate alone at 6:21. He told you he wasn’t hungry, and he’d eat his food later. He was a bit nicer when he said that, so you took that as his way of saying sorry. Giving you space. The brothers really are alike.
By 7:30 you were back in the bed. You cleaned up, showered, and tucked into Sae’s firm full-size. Doom-scrolling commenced. When you heard the front door close, you pretended to be sleeping. You don’t know why, it didn’t matter when you pretended to wake up only five seconds into Sae entering the room.
He was a bit more tender: his hand pressed against your forehead, then caressed your face. And his voice was low as he spoke. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, “Sorry.”
You shook your head. “‘Ts okay.”
“Got you something,” his fingers were brushing your lips, feeling how chapped they were. But you kissed his fingertips lightly, sweetly. He kind of leaned into your touch. “The second restaurant had an in-house pastry bar. Your cinnamon roll’s in the fridge. Promise you’ll have some water with it.”
The smile that pulled at your lips was so flattered, so giddy. He cares; he can show that he cares, always in the littlest ways. “I promise,” you said, softly. Sae smiled back, his eyes crinkling slightly.
Only at nighttime, when it’s late and you’re tired, does Sae Itoshi become himself. He becomes human. Only at nighttime, only with you. Through all of the stress and discomfort, you still really wanted to marry him, to make the real Sae forever happy.
He started to pull away from you, and you grabbed his arm, stopping him. Your eyes were all soft and pleading. “Sae,” you breathed, “come to bed.”
“Can I shower first?”
You shook your head, burying your cheeky, flustered smile into the pillow. There was a playful glint that swept Sae; it always did. How much you wanted him, just to be there, to have and to hold, mattered so much to him. Because you wanted him, imperfect and raw. You wanted him when no one else would. So he couldn’t deny you; he really loved you. He loved how you made him feel.
He let you pull him onto the bed, unmoving as you positioned yourself onto him. And he sunk into your arms, and your fingers could trace into his hair. And he sighed, with his eyes fluttering.
If it could always be that way, you’d be happy.
—-----
Two months into living with the Itoshis leaves two months until the wedding. Until some stress-free peace and quiet. Until a restful sleep, where your dreams aren’t polluted with cold feet, broken fingers and vows, and the entire world laughing at your pitiful attempt at clout chasing.
June started with a week of rain. Everything seemed to forecast trouble.
On the third day, a severe thunderstorm threatened the area. You woke up to the news bright red, the meteorologist predicting heavy, flooding rains, raging winds, and intense, near-damning lightning strikes. A thunderstorm for the ages, they said. It’d put Zeus to shame.
What was supposed to be a day spent getting tailored for your wedding turned into an Itoshi at-home event. Risu told you two that “You’re gonna get stuck out there, with all the flooding they predict. It’s not safe.”
And so you canceled, and you stayed, cooped up in that big house that was starting to get smaller and smaller by the day. A part of you had begun to wish that you did stay locked up in Sae’s penthouse, because the Itoshis are hungry people. They feed off your life.
Parts of you have waned away, and all that remains are the bones: blue and shaking, a ball of anxiety waiting to roll over and burst at any moment. They’d seen it written all under your tense smiles and stiff body language. Yasuo told you that “you better loosen up! All that tension will lead to acne and weight gain and with the wedding so soon…”
Risu hit her husband’s chest, “Stop that, don’t shame the girl.” And then her attention was on you. There were sparkles in her eyes, like your grim was the light in her dark tunnel. “We all could use a little downtime…say, why don’t we…”
She trailed off, walking into the living room and pulling the drawer of the TV console open. Yasuo lightly chuckled to himself but you were quite confused, face screwed up glaringly so. Risu shuffled around the drawer, then hissed in triumph as her hand shot to the air.
Tightly in her palm, she held a deck of playing cards. A cheshire grin was wide on her face. “We’re overdue for an Itoshi game night!”
The choice to opt out was unfortunately only awarded to Rin, much to you and Sae’s dismay. You wanted to watch a movie before the power inevitably gave out—he told you about some nice thriller flick some of his teammates recommended. It would’ve been nice, just to have the two of you, quiet on the couch, how it is when you’re home. Nothing and nobody else in between your peace.
You realized why he kept you private. He was keeping you sacred—your relationship sacred.
Yasuo and Risu cleared the way in the living room, and the four of you sat in a wide square. Risu at the top right, Sae adjacent, you beside him, and Yasuo adjacent to you. Your legs were tucked under your butt. You were practically beginning to curl into yourself. Sae sat criss-crossed. His father had one leg bent, the other extended down the length between you. His mother had her legs stretched and spread, the stack of cards on the ground between her legs. She shuffled them around. A quiet sound beside the thundering rainfall.
She gathered the cards and ran her thumb across the top, giving them one last count. Her smile was devious, her eyes were happy, and glued on you. “Ever played daifugo before?”
You shook your head, feeling the urge to nervously laugh. “No, I…I’ve never even heard of it before.”
She and Yasuo shared a knowing look. You glanced at Sae, looking for an answer, but he just shook his head. “It’s their favorite game,” he whispered, “they always win.”
“That’s right, son,”
“It is not,” Risu snipped, wriggling her leg to kick her husband. She just barely missed him. He stuck his tongue out at her, lightly slapping her dancing toes. “I always win. This is my game—you all have football, but I am the very rich man. Undefeated!”
“That’s not true.” Yasuo and Sae said at the same time.
“I used to win all the time when we played,” Sae stated matter-of-factly, but you could hear some of that Itoshi arrogance lacing through.
Risu rolled her eyes. Her husband laughed, “That sounds like a challenge.”
“It was never not a challenge,” Risu said, knocking on the deck. She began to deal them out, one at a time, swiftly.
“Let’s up the ante, then.” Yasuo pulled himself off the ground unceremoniously, his expression just as mischievous as you’d seen Risu’s. This couple…somehow managed to raise two of the most guarded men you’ve ever met. In some ways, it makes sense, but moments like this never fail to leave you perplexed.
He walked to the kitchen without another word, but you could hear the glasses clinking. You and Sae shared another glance.
“Dad, no,” Sae said. His expression dropped into even more exasperation when Yasuo returned: four shot glasses held expertly between his fingers, a tall bottle of vodka in his left hand. “No.”
“Yes, Sae. Yes.” He mocked, laughing with Risu. “Loosen up a little bit. Look at your fiancée, here—she’s never played daifugo before. She looks like her head is going to explode with all those cards in front of her! What better way to learn than with us, and all of your inhibitions gone.”
He was laughing. He and Risu were laughing. And maybe you were in your head a bit too much, but at some point, it felt like they were just laughing at you.
You just kept up the strained smile, which had quickly become second nature to you in that house. Risu dealt all of the cards, and you swept up your heap, while Yasuo preemptively filled the shot glasses.
“So,” you cleared your throat, looking over your cards, “how do you play?”
Risu and Sae took turns explaining it to you. The highest-ranking cards are The Joker and 2, respectively, with the value diminishing from Ace onward, three being the weakest. To win, you have to get rid of all your cards first—in your case, fourteen, because of course, you were the unlucky bastard to get an extra card. You have to play your cards in order to beat the others, whether that be in a single play or a stack. A stack requires the cards to be of the same number, and you have to have confidence. Your opponents could easily overpower you with a combination you can’t beat, and you lose. And if you lose, you’re taking a fat shot, as per Yasuo and Risu Itoshi.
You’re not really a fan of games like this: where everybody is watching you, and your moves tell a lot about your character and judgement. The Itoshis are people who never forget. They hold grudges, right in your face, just to watch you wallow in the guilt. It’s so minute, so harmless—it’s just a game, but nothing with them is just as it seems. It’s not just a game; it’s life or death.
“Are you ready?” Risu asked you. You rolled your lips in, looking around nervously. Sae’s face, calm and bored, was the only thing that made you feel somewhat better. You nodded. Risu’s smile grew, “Good. ‘Cause you’re going first.”
“Huh?!”
“Mom…”
“What? It’s like teaching a baby how to swim: you just have to throw ‘em in, and the instincts will kick in,” she looked at you again, this time in the eyes, this time more sincere, “It’s easy, don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it.”
You were so nervous. You were shaking, so unsure of what you should do. Worst-case scenario, you put out a set, and they all burst into laughter, because that’s the most amateur mistake someone could make. And then they’d think you’re not a critical thinker, and you’re naive, and you’re—
You put out two fives. A spade and a diamond—a Rin and a Sae, a Risu and a Yasuo.
They were all quiet for a moment. And then Sae turned to you, “That’s good. Good start.”
You smiled sheepishly, “Thanks.”
Yasuo went next. Two sevens, a diamond and a heart. His expression was shit-eating, like he was determined to make you lose.
It was Risu’s turn, and she skipped. Your eyebrow quirked. “You can skip?” You asked.
“Mhm,” Sae hummed, plucking his chosen cards. “It’s how you see everyone’s choices, how many good cards they waste on overconfidence.”
He played two eights, just slightly pulling a leg over his father. Yasuo grunted. You just nodded, letting the cogs in your brain turn over the new information.
With that, you passed your turn. Yasuo smirked. He skipped his turn as well.
All eyes were on Risu. She put down two tens—a bold move, you presumed. The way her eyes cut to Sae, wordlessly asking him what his next move was, was full of confidence. The competitiveness clearly runs in the family.
He skipped his turn too. Then they were all looking at you. The only cards that could beat her tens were the face cards, and a pair of twos. You felt yourself starting to sweat a little, wracked with nerves.
That’s what they wanted you to do—to sweat and make the wrong decision. To not think rationally and prove whatever overarching thesis they had against you being unable to live the high-intensity Itoshi lifestyle. It was a game, but it felt like a question. Like they were asking you who you really were.
You’re smart. You’re perceptive, keen, even. You know when people are thinking about you, when they’re trying to play you. You know when you should lie down and roll over. So you lied down and rolled over: “I’m gonna pass,” you said. And then you looked to Yasuo. “What are you going to do?”
He laughed, partially airy from disbelief. You’d grown some balls or some sense, it seemed, and he was humored. He’s never met a girl quite like you. He wondered how you and Sae truly got acquainted.
And then he did what you knew he was going to do: two kings, arrogant and bold, a statement. He looked at you as he put them down. The tension in your gazes grew.
Risu laughed at her husband, “You meat-headed fool,” she chided, “you always pounce at the first sign of weakness.”
She showed herself. An Ace and The Joker. Unpredictable and sharp—unbeatable.
Sae passed.
You lingered in your turn, wondering if you should take the plunge. If the win was worth it. The catharsis, the silence…
A pair of twos. A spade and a diamond, a Rin and a Sae. You put them down, your bottom lip between your teeth.
The family was silent. Then Risu burst into a fit of chuckles. “Oh, you son of a bitch,” she snorted. “You’re good. I like you.”
“I would hope so…” you whispered to yourself. It’d been two months…surely it hadn’t taken her that long to figure it out.
“Well played,” Yasuo grinned, picking up his shot. He rose it to you, congratulating you. “C’mon, Ris’, Sae, time for the losers to take their plunge.”
They followed—Sae, begrudgingly so—cheersing to you and your flawless victory. In that moment, it truly felt like a win. The Great Itoshis could accept defeat and bow down to you. More than anything, they could accept you and your genius. That’s all you’d really been waiting for.
Forty-five minutes later, you’re all tipsy, maybe even drunk, and the triumph that came from your first win had waned. You continued playing that match until Sae was the first man out, the daifugo. Then, it was Risu, who’d tied you and her husband up in a duel for who’d be the hinmin. By the skin of your teeth, you defeated Yasuo with two queens. He kissed his teeth, but he bowed down to you. Since that moment, you’d been trying to get up over them again. They weren’t going easy on you anymore.
Yasuo started the second match with a triplet: three sixes, with a smirk on his face.
After four rounds, Risu was the unabashed winner. She had demolished all of you with a spade sequence, emptying her hands. She was good. Calculative and her confidence was a good mask.
It kept going like that. A loss and a shot, a loss and a shot, a win and a glimpse of hope. In fifteen minutes, you and Yasuo were giggling messes, while Risu and Sae were only just getting started. They were having a furious go. Intense silence and eye contact as they passed and played. It was like they were playing football with cards. You started to understand Risu’s philosophy.
Yasuo was having a ball. Both of their hands were dwindling; it was down to the wire. He licked his lips over, “Whoever loses,” he began, picking up the vodka. He started pouring more into the glasses, right until the liquor threatened to bubble over the sides, “is taking both of these shots.”
“You’re crazy,” you giggled.
He leaned over to you, nudging your arm. “I just want Sae to lose. He’s a hard nut to crack.”
“Not gonna happen,” Sae replied, never looking away from his mother.
Risu was flushing red, laughing to herself. It seemed that she was a lightweight, and her losing shots were starting to get to her. She pointed an unsteady finger at her son, “It is gonna happen,” she sang, “Take that!”
She put down two kings.
Sae’s lips only slightly quirked. He put down two twos that he’d been saving, and his hands were free. You cheered, pouncing on him and doubling him over.
Risu screamed, and the thunder clapped behind her. Yasuo’s groan turned into hearty chuckles. As you smothered Sae in vodka kisses, Yasuo fed his wife her shots of defeat. His hands were stabilizing on your back; Yasuo wrapped Risu in a comforting half-embrace. It was a moment of domestic bliss, of purity, that made you feel at home. It felt normal, like what you’d expected before meeting them.
Risu clapped her hands, “Okay! I’m ready! Round…what number are we on?” You all mumbled a garble of unsure estimates, soon falling into laughter. Sae sat you up, and you awkwardly maneuvered onto his lap. He held you close. Risu wriggled her fingers at you two, “Let's go! I’m ready to win!”
You pried Sae’s hands from your stomach, slowly crawling across the ground. “Okay, okay, wait. I have to use the restroom!”
Risu clicked her tongue exasperatedly. You giggled in response. “I’ll be fast! Don’t start without me!”
You scurried quickly down the dark hallway, your rushed footsteps a beat faster than the slowing rain. It was forecast to temper on and off all night. The weather had the lights flickering, threatening an outage, but it went hardly noticed during your fun. You didn’t give the Itoshis enough credit—when they want to, they can step down from that high horse and be normal, be people.
It didn’t seem too bad to make them your family, all of a sudden.
As soon as the bathroom was in sight, you practically thrust yourself through the threshold. It was warm and damp in the room, and Rin Itoshi stood before the door, warm and damp, and quickly thereafter yelled at you: “What the fuck?!”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You replied, immediately backing yourself into the hallway again.
His hand protectively held the towel at his waist. Your eyes instinctively followed the action, falling down the shadowed image of his toned frame. You swallowed thickly—a few dirty thoughts leaving a lingering taste as they passed.
But he was mad, or uncomfortable, or confused, or all three. He stepped out of the bathroom, still keeping a considerable distance between you. “What the fuck are you doing?” He asked you.
“I was just going to the bathroom—I had no idea—”
“You just burst into an occupied room?”
“No! I didn’t know you were in there. The door wasn’t even fully closed, and it was dark in there!” You huffed, “Do you actually shower in the dark?”
Rin rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot,” he mumbled under his breath. He started to walk to his bedroom.
At some point, his insults had stopped truly hurting your feelings. But you were tipsy, bordering on full-on drunk that night, and something about that hurt you. It didn’t stop you, still. That’s another thing Rin noted about you: you’re annoyingly persistent, to the point of no return. It’s exactly how you ended up in this position. Desperately needing validation and community, you stumbled into the worst home possible for that kind of shit.
“Wait, Rin,” you called after him, voice a bit more sober. “I feel bad that you’re just holed up in your room all the time. You don’t wanna join us?”
His expression was flat, and deeply shadowed. You couldn’t see him fully, but somehow, he was the clearest he’d ever been. “No,” he said. He was lying, you could tell.
“You should. It’d be nice to have you play with us. Sae was telling me how you guys used to strategize against your parents…”
Rin scoffed. He was definitely rolling his eyes.
You continued anyway. “I’d like you to join us. But no pressure. I understand if you don’t.”
He didn’t say anything. He just walked into his bedroom, the door swinging in the wind, but gently closing. Something about that made you smile as you went into the bathroom.
You finally emerged moments later, a little more sober, a little expectant. He hadn’t joined his family. They were watching you return, their conversation dying as you appeared.
“Finally! Did you fall in while you were in there?” Yasuo asked, immediately chuckling with his wife.
Fluster bloomed across your expression as you softly laughed along. “No, sorry. ..Rin was showering, so I had to wait.”
Yasuo rolled his eyes, seemingly playfully, but something seemed dark about it. He clicked his tongue, sighing out, “That boy…”
“Stop.” Is all Sae said. It took you by surprise. It was the first time you’d ever heard him defend his brother.
Risu flicked a finger against her husband’s temple. She turned to you, her smile a little faker, “Never mind that,” she said, then turning to Sae, “Sae, deal the cards now! Mama’s ready to win again!”
That made the air a little lighter, a little easier to breathe.
Sae licked his thumb and began dishing out the cards. Thunder clapped, then the lightning struck, and the lights flickered.
Like a phantom, he’d suddenly appeared in the midst. Rin was standing at the threshold of the living room and east wing, looking around and down at all of you. For a split second, his look lingered on you.
“Well, well, well, look who it is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s Rin Itoshi coming out of his bedroom, gracing us with his presence!” Yasuo joked. No one really laughed but him.
“Oh, shut up,” Risu bit. “Hi Rin, honey. Come to join us?”
Rin just nodded, almost timidly. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t melt a little bit.
Risu moved to make room for her son to sit beside her, but he chose to sit beside you. A bit close, albeit, but evidently as far from his father as he could be. Yasuo didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. The quiet was extremely telling.
Sae was almost leaned over you as he spoke, “Are you playing, Rin?” and his voice was so soft, so low. In the last two months, they’d barely spoken five words to one another. Sae almost sounded like he was cautious. Maybe because he knows how reckless he can be, how hurtful.
“No,” Rin replied, his voice just as low. “I’ll just watch.”
And so the game began again, with you starting off. The air was a little hostile, and you hesitated to move. You hadn’t noticed Rin peeking over your shoulder until he moved a little closer. You could smell the fresh shower on him: the clean, fresh scent of water, like a hidden lake crowded by wispy willows and thick birches. It was a warm smell—like the word peace. So ironic, it is, for a man so turbulent to embody peace.
But he leaned over to whisper advice. “Don’t pussy out,” he said curtly, “use the sixes.”
And Yasuo tried to interject on the grounds of cheating, but Risu blocked him. You could tell that she liked that her son was there, even if he was helping you cheat.
It didn’t matter, anyway—thirty-some minutes later and you were still chasing that valor from the beginning of the night, slurring your words and giggling stupidly with Risu.
The latter could barely sit up straight. Her eyes were half open and her face was firetruck red. She was gone, and Yasuo was on a steadfast track behind her.
Risu won your nth round of daifugo, but none of you could physically take another sip. Sae was the only one holding out strong, but that was because at some point he decided to negate his shot, and accepted spectation as his losing punishment.
Yasuo was a jumbling mess, hobbling up onto his feet with a sideways grin. He lugged Risu up with a deep groan, and you just couldn’t stop laughing. Even Sae found himself chuckling. Rin was in disbelief.
“Alright, us old folks are calling it a night,” he said.
Risu tugged at his hair, “Who y’callin’ old, punk?” She slurred.
“Whatever you end up doin’..make sure you clean up.” With that, Yasuo carried his wife away, much to her grumbling dismay. “Good night.”
Sae shook his head as his parents walked off, slowly turning to you. “You don’t wanna play still, do you?”
“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “We should watch that movie you mentioned! I’m still looking forward to it.”
“It’s late. We should save it for another time.”
The lights started flickering again.
But you were persistent.
“C’mon Sae, please,” you begged, your lip extra pouty and extra annoying. “I’ll clean up, you get some snacks.”
He moved without you having to ask again. Your pout turned into a wide smile instantly, and he rolled his eyes. He really loves you, because you are really annoying.
“You’re getting water,” he informed, walking away.
“Mkay. Thank you.” You hummed.
Sae took the empty vodka bottle and arrayed glasses with him to the kitchen, and you took to sweeping up the cards. Rin didn’t move or say a thing. It was like he was scared to, like he would ruin your moment.
His brother was so soft with you, in a familiar way. That tenderness, that doting, that love—something that he himself once had. Rin felt himself feeling a little jealous, almost sickly so.
But he couldn’t hold that against you. Not when you could look at him like that, almost like how you look at Sae, and you invite him in. “You wanna watch the movie with us?” You asked him, while uncoordinatedly shoving the cards back in their box. “It’s supposed to be scary, I think. I know you like scary movies.”
“What’s it called?” He asked. He didn’t bother asking how you knew what type of movie he likes.
You pursed your lips for a moment, racking your brain. When no answer came to mind, you perked up, facing the kitchen. “Sae! What’s the movie called again?”
He stepped backward into view, his reply in tow, but Rin wasn’t really listening. He was losing himself in his head, in a bunch of thoughts and feelings he’s been trying to bury, but yours and Sae’s presence dredge up. Loneliness, speechlessness, animosity swarm Rin—have been swarming Rin—and he hates to admit that he craves life, peace, sanctity. Weirdly, he craves you.
So he accepted your offer, still timid and quiet. He needed the company more than he’d admit, because that’s weakness. That’s accepting defeat; that’s letting Sae win.
The lights flickered again. And then the thunder rang out with an echoing vengeance, the lightning clapped, and the power lost that battle. The house was pitch black, with the windows offering slivers of moonlight through the downpour.
No matter how old you get, your fear of the dark will never temper. In that moment, you felt your heart skip a few beats and your breaths thicken. It’s the unknown in the dark, the silence, the isolation, that takes you back to those long nights filled with nothing. Just yourself, and the lingering breeze of dysfunction.
You slithered closer to where you remembered Rin, sitting shoulder to shoulder. “What are you doing?” He asked. You didn’t answer.
Sae called your name from the kitchen. You could hear his footsteps padding around, and see the faint lines of his silhouette shifting before the window. “It’s okay,” he said, light flashing on. It was his phone, highlighting the small area. “The lights will come back on. It’s fine.”
“What, are you scared of the dark?” Rin asked. His tone was indecipherable.
You shrugged, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “It’s a long story,” you said, clearing your throat.
Sae walked into the living room, bringing your water. He was intentional not to shine the light in your eyes, keeping it focused left, toward Rin. He handed you the water, sparing his brother a glance, “Don’t be a jerk, Rin.” He said, his tone even, but a little sharp. “We all have things that haunt us.”
Thunder clapped again. You all stayed silent until the lightning flashed, and Sae sighed, pointing his phone down the west hallway. “I’m gonna see if I can get the backup power going.”
“You don’t need to,”
“That’ll be a waste of time.”
Sae moved the light back to look at you. “It’s worth a shot,” he said, lowly. He focused on his brother. “I’ll be right back. Keep an eye on her; don’t go anywhere.”
Rin scoffed as Sae walked away. His light waned with him. And though a part of you needed to pull out your phone, you just sat there in the dark, next to Rin, counting breaths and raindrops.
“Hey, Rin,” you said after a long moment of silence. “Does it always rain like this out here?”
You could feel him shrug, “During the summer, sometimes. …Mom used to say it was bathing the earth, cleansing sin.”
“That’s poetic.”
“It’s stupid.”
“I don’t think it is. It’s hopeful, y’know. After the rain, we can start anew. The world is cleaned of yesterday, and tomorrow is a new plane…” you trailed off. You found your fingers picking at each other. “You don’t get that feeling from the rain? The comfort?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
You wet your lips, “Sure, but– you don’t feel it deep inside, speaking to you? It’s like, sometimes, I’m so alone, and the earth is my only friend. It’s the only thing that can hear me.”
And then you started to get choked up. It was half drunkenness, half release; so much had been stored inside of you, stifled under the silence, the emptiness. In another life, you wouldn’t need everything to be perfect—this wedding, this family, life itself would be able to exist in its natural imperfections and not remind you of the desolate landscape of your memories. The empty nights, searching for yourself, for your purpose, and forcing yourself to accept what you’ve been given. You’ve been given Sae Itoshi. Millions would kill to be you. But sometimes it feels like another prison, another box.
So you cried. You cried the tears you’ve kept inside, the tears the rain has acquainted with.
They blossomed into quiet sobs. Thunder drummed out again. You hiccuped, “I just don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know…I dunno…” you started to slur.
You were so close to Rin, he could feel your body vibrate with tears. He could feel it inside of him, behind his ribcage. Your tears were the rain; they were speaking to him.
He leaned closer to you, whispering, “Me neither.”
—-----
Things were supposed to mend after the Itoshi game night, but they only got worse. For you, at least. Everyone seemed to be in higher spirits, seemed to be closer, but you only wanted to distance yourself more.
Perhaps it was fear, or truly a deep truth, that made your feet run cold.
Your wedding signified a turn: it signified truth, humility, reality. It meant settling. It meant your life was ending and beginning again all at once. It meant that above all, this is what you really wanted.
The closer it got, the less of a fairytale it became. The person you were when you touched down in Japan, when you set foot in that house, had long been buried in the closet with your other skeletons. What was left was a woman scared of the dark, of the unknown, sleeping next to it itself.
You jumped awake. Wet with sweat, gasping for air. Your head was spinning, soon thereafter aching.
The air conditioning was off. The clocks were stuck in time. The power was out again.
Sae was still fast asleep. You felt his skin, cool to the touch. Such a distant feeling.
You wanted to crawl under his arms, to find comfort in his touch, to find the warmth that paints his hair rosy and his skin tan. But you crawled out of bed, maybe because you were scared of what you would find.
It was raining outside, which seemed to be the norm, at that point. This time, it seemed to cloud you, rather than giving you clarity. You were just walking through the house, maybe looking for the fuse box, or looking for that clarity. Whatever your heart wanted, it led you down the west wing, past a line of closed doors.
Risu and Yasuo sleep at the very back of the house, so when you heard faint voices on the other side of a door in the middle of the hall, you knew it wasn’t them.
You laid three knocks on the door, your other hand preemptively on the knob. No response; so you slowly peeled the door open. It creaked quietly. The rain beat out the sound.
The room was covered in windows, all painted with raindrops. The ground was wood, with grass and moss peeking between the panels. Rows of plants filled the room: from bright plumerias to budding succulents to monstrous leafy plants. It was a greenhouse attached to the main property, a part that you’ve somehow gone this long without noticing.
It was fresh in that room, slightly humid but, somehow, simultaneously cool. You closed your eyes as you slowly wandered through, breathing deeply.
“What the hell are you doing?”
You yelped, your eyes shooting open. You seemed to have missed Rin, curled up in the window of the room. His bangs shielded his eyes, and his hoodie swallowed the rest of his face. You could only see him, just slightly, because the light from his tablet shone against his face.
“You’re barging into rooms unwelcomed again,” he said.
“I didn’t know anyone was in here, again,” you quipped, walking toward him. “I didn’t even know this was a room that existed here.”
“So, you’re just exploring in the middle of the night?”
“Couldn’t sleep. The power’s out.”
“Oh,” he nodded.
You welcomed yourself to sit beside him on the bench, keeping a well gap between you. He only spared you a glance as you sat facing him. “What about you?” You asked, twiddling your fingers. “Why’re you up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged.
The two of you steeped in the quiet for a moment. Your eyes darted around the dim room before finally landing on his tablet. It was unclear what he was watching, but you inferred some game footage. You saw the cleats firm in the dirt, his wild mess of dark hair.
You opened your mouth to speak but, surprisingly, Rin beat you to it: “This is my mom’s green room. When I was little, and Dad would take me and Sae to the backyard to play, you could see her through the windows, watering her plants. I used to think she loved them more than us, than me, because she never looked more happy than she did when she was here.”
“Oh,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”
“I come in here to find what she had. It feels like I’m missing something…”
This time, you offered a dry laugh, “You’re missing your brother, Rin.”
He scoffed. You continued, “You’re so alike in that way: so full of pride, you’ll preserve your dignity before you’ll be honest. You leave yourself and so many others lonely that way.”
Another long beat of silence ebbed by. Then Rin finally turned to look at you, right in the eyes, as he asked, “Do you actually want to marry Sae?”
The look on your face betrayed what you wanted to say. But you said it anyway, because maybe hearing it out loud could convince him, maybe even you. “Yes. I love him, very much,” you said quietly. “But…” you started, tilting your head, “I don’t know if now is the time. Or if this is the way I want it.”
“My parents are scaring you off,” he laughed. “Typical. Don’t let anyone else hear you say that.”
“I know. I’m horrible.”
“Not that,” he replied quickly, then cleared his throat. “...It’s not that you’re..horrible… it’s that…it means that Sae failed. It means both Itoshi sons are failures, and that my parents have failed, and everything was in vain.”
You shook your head. Now, it was your turn to look him in the eyes, even though he tried his hardest to avoid your gaze. “You’re not a failure, Rin. You’re really not.”
“I am.” His voice was much sharper, “I’m such a worthless piece of shit; I can’t do anything right. I’m a disappointment. I have no future.”
“That’s not true—”
“Sae has always been better than me. Sae has always been held over my head. Sae has everything; Sae has you. I have nothing.”
Instinctively, you reached out to him. Your hand cupped his—the first thing you noticed is how warm he was, how oddly soft his skin was—and you squeezed it tightly, reassuringly. “Rin,” you said seriously, your best attempt at grappling his attention. “You have me too. We’re family now, right?”
“It’s not the same,” he said, just barely above a whisper. He pulled his hand back and completely turned away from you.
At the same time, the power seemed to have kicked back on. A cooling mist rained down on the plants and landed slightly on your skin. You were cold again, still lost.
—-----
It’s hard to pinpoint when exactly you and Rin became friends. Maybe three months of forced proximity and two weeks of nightly trauma bonding just does that to people. It makes them friends.
He’s started to talk to you more, to linger more. But only when nobody is around. It seems to be a trait both brothers hold: they only truly exist at night. When nobody is around, when all is asleep and quiet, that’s when they shed that skin and come to life.
Or maybe that’s just an effect you have. Perhaps because you hide in the sun, and finally breathe in the rain.
It was nighttime, and it was drizzling. And you were smoking a cigarette, and Rin was with you. Both of your guilty pleasures in one bubble.
You were just existing around one another, a pastime you each have found solace in. It’s the way you and Sae originally connected, just finding each other in the silence. Finding your joint silence more bearable, more real, than anything you could ever say.
You ashed the cigarette under your shoe, wiping your nose. “Think ‘m gonna call it a night, Rinnie.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“I know,” you grinned, “‘M just messing with you.”
He wasn’t humored. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t be another person that’s against me.”
Your expression softened; he couldn’t bear to look at you. He also couldn’t hide the flush creeping across his face, the pure embarrassment. He doesn’t like to be weak—none of them do—and yet, he keeps finding himself open with you.
“I could never be against you. Nobody can.”
“Contrary to my whole life,” he scoffed. “...You’re the only person who doesn’t talk shit to me. You don’t hate me, even though I’m very hateable—”
“You’re not hateable, Rin—”
He went silent: an admission of defeat. And he still refused to look you in the eyes, his gaze wandering across your face.
He looked a little sadder than usual. His quiet was inquisitive; it was evident that something was swarming his head. You knew him well enough to know that you may never know his truth. You didn’t need to, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to.
“Rin,” you called. He was hesitant to look you in the eyes, but he soon gave in. You smiled softly, reassuringly, “You’re not alone, not as long as I’m around. ‘Kay? You’re my family now—”
“I don’t want you to be my family…”
“What?”
The wind picked up. Rain started to come down a little harder, smacking against the ground with everlasting echoes. Under the overhang of the roof, you two were partially protected as the wind whipped droplets around.
Risu mentioned one night, as you were doing the dishes, that “all this rain means something bad has happened, or something bad is coming.” She turned the sink off, then looked at you, her expression uncomfortably serious. “Here’s hoping it’s not your wedding.”
Maybe it wasn’t the wedding, but it was your being there. It was you and Sae, moving so fast yet so slow, loving hastily and uncertainly. Maybe it was the Itoshis and all their imperfections—maybe it’s their sons.
Because with the way Rin was looking at you, and the goosebumps that raised underneath your clothes, the rain seemed to pour harder. Your heart seemed to quicken, but you weren’t nervous. It was like the first time Sae kissed you: he’d taken you home after your date, standing on the steps of your apartment complex. It was raining and you forgot an umbrella—he’d given you his jacket, but some rain knocked against your face anyway. He wiped the droplets off your cheek, and then he asked you lowly, “Is it alright if I kiss you?”
And you leaned into his touch, and that was his affirmation. He leaned forward, tenderly connecting his lips to yours. It was almost as if he was scared. That hesitation died when you kissed him back, when you confirmed that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
You took a step back, slowly opening your eyes. And it was Rin—you were kissing Rin, he was kissing you. Just as timidly, as vulnerably as Sae did.
His lips were glossed in your shared spit, but the gloss of his eyes seemed to be tears, fraught to fall. Just sitting there atop those seaglass greens, promising fear, weakness.
He was scared; you were too. When you looked at each other, you saw two different demons, but they went by the same name.
Thunder drummed out to the beat of your heart. Lightning struck; your hands were grabbing Rin’s head, pulling him to you, kissing him with the same fervor the rain poured in.
He was stiff but soon melted into your touch. His hands held your hips. Slowly, as your kiss developed into a tempered pace, they slithered up your body. When he got to your arms, a bout of strength overcame him—or perhaps, it was desire, capturing your arms in a tight grip, pulling the limbs over your head as he pushed you against the side of the house.
You whimpered into the kiss, your mouth temporarily slack for his tongue to explore and dominate. His knee found its way lodged between your thighs, just shy of pressing against your heat.
The sky rumbled deeply. You were making a mistake; the earth was to pay for your wreckage.
But in that moment, the warmth between your bodies defeated the cold of the rain, and it defeated the fear in your heart. It felt good, it was a high that consumed you, that chewed away at your morality. You chased that high, against all better judgement: you rolled your body up to Rin’s, swallowing his faint grunt deep into your depths.
Lightning whizzed through the sky. You swore you could feel the electricity under your skin, crawling in your veins.
It was the light in the darkness, the triumph against the doubt swirling inside you.
You kept kissing him, because it was the only thing you’d done in months that felt right.
—-----
The silk gown you’re in was too pure for your skin. It’s custom: carefully dyed the perfect teal to match Sae’s eyes, perfectly fit to your frame, precisely beaded around the waistline with aquamarines.
It had to be perfect; it had to be stunning. Today is the day: four months of waiting, just for this dinner, for the prelude to your union with Sae.
Risu paid a pretty penny for a glam team to come to the house and prepare you for tonight. Shimmer painted on your eyes and high points, false lashes glued to your eyes, muted coral rouged your dry lips. Hands in your hair, combing and pinning and curling and spritzing. You were supposed to feel like a princess, but you felt more like a doll than anything.
You were in the living room getting glammed, clad in a white robe, embroidered, branded with Mrs Itoshi. Rin had walked past, heading to the kitchen. You caught his eye; his attention lingered. You both tried to break fast, but Risu caught it.
“Doesn’t she look nice, Rin?” Risu grinned.
He hesitated to answer. His eyes were fixed on you, but you stared at the floor. You hadn’t been able to look at him since that night.
“Yeah,” he said, “pretty.”
That was supposed to make you feel better, but it only made you sicker to your stomach. “Thanks,” you muttered, still avoiding him.
Risu followed after him, her rollers clacking with her pace. “Rin, your father has your suit…”
And she held onto your gown. You weren’t to put it on until you arrived at the venue, until now. In a green room covered in mirrors, in your reflection, in your perfect imperfection.
She comes into view behind you, a grin and box in tow. She passes it off to you with a nod, “Open it,” she urged.
Inside the box is an elegant, delicate diamond choker, the pendant a blinding star shape. Your mouth drops agape—not in awe, but in surprise, gearing up a bunch of sputtery refusals. “Risu, I—”
“You will,” she said, peeling it out of the box. “It’s been passed down to all the women of my family. I always wanted a daughter…” She unhooks the necklace, bringing it around your throat. The feeling of her fingers against your nape makes you stiffen, holding your breath tightly in your gut. She clasped it with a soft clink, peering over your shoulder proudly. “Now, I have one.”
“Risu…”
“No need to thank me, sweetie. We’re family. You making my baby boy happy is all thanks I need,” She says, pinching your cheek. She holds her hand out to you to hold, her other picking up her clutch, “Shall we?”
You don’t have a choice. There is no more waiting, no more postponing, weighing your options. Tomorrow, you will marry Sae Itoshi. Tonight, you will meet his family, smile for pictures, and say goodbye to the life you once knew.
Risu opened the door, and you stepped out into the banquet hall behind her, your nerves sinking into your stomach. Itoshis filled every corner of the room, old and young, all unfamiliar.
You saw Yasuo and Rin at the head of the room, beside the sole photographer. You and Sae didn’t want the press, but Yasuo was in cahoots with Girolan and allowed one publication to be invited to this dinner, to see the bride and groom before the I dos.
Sae appears to your right, dapper in a white suit, his hair brushed out of his face. His face was blotted and powdered, his lashes fanned. Risu’s glam team had gotten to him, much less aggressively than they’d gotten you.
“Hi beautiful,” he whispers, “my Aunt Yukino wants to meet you.”
You look over his shoulder, and a tall woman with strawberry hair meets your look expectantly. She looks just like Yasuo—just as mean and knowing.
You swallow, pulling a smile as convincingly as you can. “And so it begins,” you say, looping arms with him.
“And so it begins,” he reiterates, just as exasperated.
Risu pats you on the shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it, lovebirds. Yuki’s a loudmouth; don’t let her hog you, and don’t let her pry!”
And so it begins: the cheering, the hugging, the parading. Aunt Yukino throws her hands high before wrapping them around you, shoving Sae out of the way. She squeals as she rocks you back and forth, “You’re beautiful! Sae, she’s stunning! Where’d you find her?”
And so it begins: the storytelling, the repeating, the game of it all.
“I was interning on Re Al’s medic team before my residency,” you say, pulling yourself out of her hold. “I didn’t really get to know Sae until I was leaving. The team wanted to take me out to celebrate my acceptance, but I’m not a clubber. Neither is Sae—we bonded that night over being the only sober, sensical people there.”
The laughter. Not really humored, but not completely fake. Just a sound to ease the tension, to make the interaction less awkward.
“That’s too cute!” Aunt Yukino laughs. Then, she turns to Sae, perching a hand on her hip, “You’ve been hiding her from us for that long?”
He shakes his head, dispelling her claim. “We didn’t start dating until two years ago.”
“Two years is still a long time,”
“We wanted to keep things private,” you say, an attempt to feed her appetite. “You know how the public can be, how Sae’s fans can be. I don’t even want to be famous…”
Aunt Yukino raises a brow. She looks over her shoulder, toward her brother, toward the cameraman. “And what about now? Still don’t wanna be famous?”
Your smile, your shield, wavers. You lean into Sae, almost like you’re trying to melt into his skin.
“That’s all Dad,” Sae answers bluntly. “If it were up to me, they wouldn’t be here at all.”
“We know how much you hate the media, Sae-chan,” Yukino snorts.
“Speaking of, we should probably go entertain them before they get antsy.”
Sae nods, pushing you away as Yukino attempts to object. You laugh awkwardly, “We have a long night ahead of us.”
“Courtesy of my parents, of course,” Sae whispers, looping his arm seamlessly into yours. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m grateful. I’m happy.”
Sae looks at you, his low eyes scanning your face. You look uncomfortable under that smile you wear—you’ve never been good at hiding your feelings. He’s been good at reading you, that’s how he got to know you, that’s how you got here. And you’re hiding something under that grin that has his chest tight, because you’re not happy; he’s not done right by you.
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says, pulling you closer. “You’d tell me if something’s wrong, right?”
You stop in your tracks. “Nothing’s wrong, Sae.”
“Okay…”
Flash. Flash. Flash.
Look to your right; smile! Up, slightly, to the left; smile! Flash, flash, flash.
The Itoshis and their extended family cheer and gather around you, urging poses, urging your smile. So many damn pictures—pictures to cement the moment in time, but you’re not even living the moment. Your face is dewy with sweat, your eyes are starting to hurt from the bright lights just shining in your eyes, your head is starting to throb from all the squealing and yelling and music. It’s tiring: acting all the time. But you have to keep it up. Happy wife, happy life, so they say.
Yasuo plucks champagne glasses off a tray, handing them to you and Sae as you finally wriggle away from the photographer. You sigh out a thank you, immediately taking a generous gulp.
“Oh my goodness, that ring! It’s beautiful,” A woman notes, a distant cousin, no doubt.
You trade hands that hold the glass, flexing your fingers straight. She gets closer, grabbing your hand. “That is stunning…you have a good eye, Sae.”
“Thank you.”
“He gets it from me,” Yasuo charms, winking.
The small group around you falls into monotonous laughter. Sae rolls his eyes. You hide your uneasy grin behind another generous sip.
“How’d you know that was the one, Sae?” Another voice asks. “The ring, I mean.”
He weighs his head back and forth, shrugging a shoulder. “It looks like her eyes.”
And the group fell into a chorus of awww’s. You have to play up the flattered expression, but you’re starting to feel sick to your stomach. It’s the guilt: it’s watering your eyes, flushing your skin.
“Now, we need to know how he proposed!”
“Yeah!”
“I wonder if you’re just as romantic as you seem, Sae-chan.”
“Well…” you begin. You were on vacation; Sae had taken you to Saint-Tropez to celebrate you finishing your residency, and you were spending days on the beach, lounging under the sun with mango daiquiris. It was on day nine of your trip, your final day, before your flight back home the next morning. He’d taken you to this beautiful restaurant, sprung for the rooftop seats, where the fairy lights competed with the stars, and the companionship was low. You ate, laughed and talked as you usually did, when the staff rolled out a cart of champagne. Sae popped the bottle, filled your glasses, and then he asked you,
“Would you want to marry me?”
You almost choked on your champagne. But then you softened, and you nodded. “I definitely think about it,” you said, “You, as my husband, me, your wife.”
“No,” he shook his head, and then he nodded forward. You looked down and he held the velvet box open on the table, the beautiful stones shining like the stars. “Will you marry me?”
And the group coos again, clapping and talking among themselves.
And then you were telling the story, again and again and again. And they wanted to know how you met, so you told that story, again and again and again. And they wanted to know what it was like meeting his parents—why your parents weren’t there, and Sae had to intervene, again and again and again.
Your mouth is getting dry, and you keep lubricating it with demure sips of champagne, silently hoping that at some point, the buzz will override your brain and you can coast through this night easily. The alcohol only seems to swell in your chest and sit there, and taunt you, guilt you.
You wonder if it’s raining right now.
Sae’s arm is glued around your waist. You finally get a chance to breathe when he guides you to the table, pulls out your chair, and helps you sit. He sits beside you, to your right. Risu is to your left, Yasuo beside her, Rin beside him. It’s the first time you’ve seen the brothers beside each other since you met Rin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him all evening. You still avoid looking at him.
Waitstaff drop off plates of bougie supper, and Yasuo stands, clearing his throat. Another staffer scurries out of the dark, bringing a microphone to your father-in-law.
He taps the head, “Is this thing on?”
The room laughs at him. You nervously follow along, helping yourself to more champagne.
“Alright; good evening, everybody! Thank you all for coming out to see my son and my beautiful daughter-in-law-to-be; we appreciate it more than you know. Risu has put in real blood, sweat, and tears planning this dinner and the ceremony tomorrow, so make sure you give my lovely wife your gratitude.” Yasuo begins, positioning himself to face his family. “I’ll make this brief—Sae doesn’t like when I talk too much ‘n get all sappy. I just want to toast to this beautiful couple: I wish you love, life, and a whole lot of sunshine. There’s been a lot of rain, a lot of cleansing happening, and I can only take that as a purification for this sanctified, sweet union. I’ve watched Sae grow into a beast, I raised him that way, but now I can sit back and watch him be a man. A man in love, a man with love, all thanks to this lovely young lady right here. May your marriage last, ‘til death do you part!”
The room echoes his sentiment, a sea of glasses high in the air. Your hand shakes as you follow suit.
“Now,” Yasuo walks around the table, slotting the microphone in your face. Your eyes go wide. “A word from the bride?”
“I—” you look around, expectant eyes watching you. It’s a trait of every Itoshi: those beady eyes, that scrutinize and expect of you.
Risu nods, wordlessly urging you to go on.
You take down the rest of your champagne before you stand, letting Sae hold your shaking hand. You clear your throat, “Hi everyone…I– I am beyo—”
Rin catches your eye. Across from you at the table, looking dejected and stormy. For the first time in weeks, you look him in the eyes. As soon as you do, you feel his lips against yours, his hands on your skin.
You tear your hand from Sae’s, dropping the mic. “I’m sorry,” you whimper before darting out of the room.
It’s a maze of tables, a labyrinth of murmurs and stares. You feel the guilt chasing you, the terror of forever quick on its heels. It’s beyond feeling guilty for kissing Rin, it’s guilty for bringing Sae all the way here, all the way to nothing—
He calls your name. So softly, so concerned, just beneath the buzz of the local night. He comes behind you, a hand on your shoulder, “What’s wrong?”
You hesitate to look at him.
But you do. And you completely fall apart; the tears are far too many to keep at bay. “Sae, I—” you choke, stepping away from him. You look down at his shoes, scared to look him in the face as you say, “I kissed Rin.”
“You did what?”
It’s not Sae who asks you; it’s Yasuo. He and Risu have just stepped out of the building, onto the sidewalk, into your admission with a furrowed expression.
In a matter of seconds, Risu has launched toward you, her hand cocked high and whipping against your face with a deafening crack. “You little bitch!” She spits, grabbing you by the throat. “I let you into my home, I gave you everything!—Sae has given you—”
Yasuo is tugging his wife off you, Sae wedging his way in between you with repeated begs for his mother to stop. She thrashes in her husband’s hold, still cursing your existence.
You cough into your hand, the other caressing where Risu held you. The tears still spill, and you swear you’re slowly dying. Your lungs are trying their hardest, but all you can do is wheeze.
“He..kissed me, and I…” you heave, slowly looking back up at Sae. His expression is so broken; you break further, your words a jumble of tears and cracks. “I didn’t stop him. I kissed him back– I’m so sorry, Sae…!”
And then—
“You.” Yasuo grits.
Rin has stepped outside, unknowingly into the lion’s den. His father releases his mother and stomps toward him in three grand strides, grabbing him up by his suit and pushing him against the wall. “Why did you do this, Rin? Why?! You’ve always been jealous of your brother, always tried taking what he has, but this—”
“Stop it!” Sae exclaims. It’s the loudest he’s ever been, the sternest he’s ever been. “Dad, let him go. Let him go!”
Yasuo doesn’t want to release Rin, but he does anyway. Risu rushes to grab her husband’s hand, to stand as a united, angry front before you.
But that doesn’t matter.
Sae turns to you, his brows flipped and soft, his eyes glossy. He’s never looked so pathetic—he’s never felt it, either. He loves you that much. “Do you..do you still want to marry me?” He asked, voice flat, but almost childlike.
The tears run down your face, searing hot. You bite your shaking lip, shaking your head slowly. “...No, Sae,” you admit. Everyone’s face falls. You feel your heart in your ass. “Not like this.”
He closes his eyes, but the tears fall anyway. Two clean streaks down his fiery cheeks. He just nods his head before turning on his heels and walking away, disappearing into the building.
You let out a sob, covering your face with your hands.
Risu walks up to you, her hand creeping up to your neck again. She tears the choker from around your neck, her face in a disgusted grimace. “We’re going to go in there and clean up your mess. In the meantime, you’re going to go and pack your things and get the fuck out of my house. I want it like you were never even there. You mean nothing to us anymore.”
Yasuo stands behind his wife, a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You broke my son's heart. You’ve disappointed me.”
He doesn’t even say anything to Rin.
Nobody has anything to say anymore—but the sky, it thunders. It promises another cleanse, but the damage is done.
—-----
You rode back to the Itoshi house in a humiliating rideshare. The driver kept sneaking glances at you through the rearview mirror, and you didn’t even want to know how bad you looked to him. He muttered, “Have a better night…” as you got out of the car. You slammed the door.
And now, you cry as you stuff your bags with all of your things. It’s terrible. All of the memories you’ve made in the last four months, all of it worth nothing in the blink of an eye.
You sit beside the bed for a moment, bawling your eyes out as you twist the engagement ring back and forth around your finger. You hated the cut, you hated the ring, but you loved Sae. You love him, but it isn’t enough. You don’t remember the last time your happiness came from your heart, and you didn’t have to tell your brain that that’s how you felt.
The ring is left on the bed. On the pillow, where your head has lain every night, kissing and talking Sae to sleep.
It’s terrible.
You lug your suitcases and carry-ons tragically out of the room, in a slow, uncoordinated crawl. The silence of the house lets the downpour echo deep in your heart; it tells you that you’re not alone, and you’re not.
Rin is here.
He stands at the head of the hallway, his body fluttering around his heavy breaths.
You stop in your tracks. Your chest immediately feels tighter. “No…” You whimper, “Please don't, Rin. Don’t do this to me, please.”
“How am I going to live here without you?”
“Rin—”
He walks toward you. Light is faint in the hallway. You can scarcely see his features drawn in the moonlight. And he’s so close, you can smell him. Peace: rain and wood and sweat and desperation.
“They don’t want me here, not anymore.”
“You can’t come with me…”
You don’t know where you’re going. He has no business being with you. He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve you.
“I can’t. But I want to.”
“You don’t mean that, Rin. You don’t want me.”
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“No, I’m not. I’m everything Sae had—”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
His voice is low, a small crack breaking through his admission. And he comes closer. You breathe each other in. You breathe in that weakness, that humility, that fear.
You drop your bags. Before it can consume you, you consume it; Rin kisses you, just as fearfully as before, and you kiss him back, just as stupidly as before.
The rain has picked up outside. As it washes the trails of your sin away, you let it bed deep inside you. It’s not right, but nothing ever is. At the very least, the downpour whispers in your ears, or maybe it’s Rin, to let it all go.
That’s all that lingers in your heart: the need to let it all go, everything, and begin again when the sun begins to shine.
am i the only one that actually likes being called good girl orr… anyways ill lock in n finish my reqs now since theres only three
thighs spread wide, your leaking hole was completely exposed, wrapped around and dripping all over kaiser’s dick. the mess soaked the sheets below as his thrusts came up, sharp and hard, strings of slick connecting your ass to his pelvis as his pace stayed steady.
his forearms had your knees pinned all the way to your chest, hands clutching your head and fixing your vision to your cunt, which was shamelessly wet with arousal. sweat was glossed over your entire body, tits squished together by the position and sticky from moisture. your eyes were concentrated on where your bodies were joined, loud slaps of skin sounding out with every harsh snap of his hips.
“hope your eyes aren’t rolling too far back.” you heard kaiser’s laugh behind you, “better be watching how well i fuck you.”
“n-no, no i’m watching!” you tried to let the words out as a whimper, but they came out louder than expected, voice cracking and stuttering, overwhelmed by how amazing it felt.
and even if you wanted to look away, you couldn’t. not just physically, because the position literally prevented you from doing so, but because you were hypnotised — the way his dick buried itself in your soaking pussy, length disappearing as he fucked into you. he’d pull out as far as possible, then ram every inch back into you, perfectly striking your sweet spot each time.
you were twitching at the feeling, nails scratching down his arms as your feet swung beside you. “you’re, ohh— so deep!” you gasped, watching his big dick getting slick with your juices. “i feel soo fucking full!”
“this? deep?” he scoffed, leaning back and planting his feet down firmly, “don’t test me.” handling all your weight with ease, he was moving faster and harder — thighs slapping up against your skin and tip abusing your poor gspot, causing your thighs to shake in his hold.
“mmfphh oh shit!” you cried out at the shift, the slightest change bringing an intense wave of pleasure. you could hardly breathe, every muscle in your body crying out for relief but it was exactly how you liked it. “don’t stop please!”
“yeah? greedy fucking pussy won’t let me go.” his thrusts were merciless, not giving you a seconds rest. his hands gripped bruises into your neck and although you couldn’t see him, you knew you had that familiar cocky grin slapped across his face.
he had wrecked you stupid in a matter of minutes, your tongue lolling out as drool spilt out the corners of your lips, adding to the mess he’d already made of you. your hands had given up on marking his skin, hanging limp by your sides.
“fucked dumb already?” he grinded into you, drawing a jolt from your aching body.
“ngh nooo, no…”
yeah, you were gone.
he was undoing his grip, pulling out momentarily while you, still in your blissed out state, let out a small whine. arms now fully hooked under your knees, they were still at your chest as he kept you folded in half on his lap.
“you’re gonna cum on this dick, hear me?”
“mhmm.”
he was gathering all the slick on his tip, running it through your puffy folds and nudging your clit before pushing in. the stretch was still filling, even after the way he had just fucked you, cunt clenching tightly around the inches.
throwing your head back on his shoulder, his reaction was similar — groans coming out through gritted teeth, cursing at how you were already squeezing him when he had just bottomed out.
“shit i said it, your pussy’s greedy.” he hissed, “trying to milk my dick already.”
hips beginning to move, he was fucking you just as deeply as before, rolling and coaxing over your favourite spot again and again, till only the whites of your eyes were visible.
the only thing coming out of you now were moans and whimpers, pretty to kaiser’s ears. your abdomen was hot and wrenching, orgasm beginning to approach and clit throbbing.
“touch my clit please, please!” you begged, seeking the extra stimulation to reach your climax.
he did, surprisingly without mocking or teasing you, letting an hand lose to knead into the sensitive nub. your back arched off his chest instantly, orgasm getting closer and closer with each rub, legs shaking in his arms.
“i-i’m coming, oh my god!” you let out a high pitched moan, pressure in your stomach unwinding as your cunt clenched tight, spraying clear liquid and drenching the already damp sheets. your whole body felt lightweight, orgasm providing a much needed release after being agonisingly folded in half for ages.
“there you go, good fucking girl.” he groaned, cock jerking in your heat. the fat of your ass jiggled as he pounded, his own orgasm nearing. “i’m gonna make you leak my cum.” his hands were forcing you back into full nelson, your calves burning and arms tired. “you looking?”
“haah, y-yes!” sight transfixed on the filth he was making of you, you watched as he came with a hoarse moan — legs twitching slightly and balls tensing, emptying out into you. he pulled out and you watched it drip, cunt creamy as his cum ran down like syrup, glistening under the lights.
“mm..” you muttered dazed, “s-so good.”
“yeah?” he was letting you go and massaging your tender joints, gathering your tired body up. heading towards the bathroom, he sounded so smug — he was the one that had done this to you and he loved it when you stroked his ego. “is my pretty girl satisfied?”
“definitely…” you were slurring, eyes fluttering shut.
a/n: not proofread + oui its another jerk off fantasy
the air in sae’s apartment was thick and heavy, soaked with the scent of sweat, sex, and something dangerously electric. you were sprawled on your back across his massive bed, thighs spread wide while your fingers twisted tight in his hair as he buried his face between your legs.
sae’s tongue was merciless—precise and hungry. he licked long, slow stripes up your soaked folds before sucking hard on your swollen clit, two fingers buried knuckle-deep inside your dripping pussy, curling perfectly against that spot that made your back arch clean off the mattress “ooh~! mnnh,, uhh..~ sae... baby..”
“fuuuuck—look at you,” shidou growled from behind. he was on his knees, gripping sae’s narrow hips with bruising force as he slammed into him with brutal, punishing thrusts.
the wet, filthy sound of skin slapping skin mixed with the dirty slurping noises sae was pulling out of you.
shidou’s eyes were wild, blown out pupils as he fucked him harder, forcing his face deeper into your pussy with every snap of his hips.
“shit, babe… your ass is sucking me in so fuuucking gooood..,” shidou rasped out breathlessly. “you’re such a classy little whore, acting all cold and untouchable on the field… but here you are… tongue deep in her cunt while i rearrange your guts ~”
sae didn’t respond with words, he couldn’t. instead, he groaned low against your pussy, the vibration shooting straight through your clit “yes ngh! just …like that, right there ~!”.
his tongue flicked faster, more aggressively, licking up every drop of your slick like he was starving.
you moaned loudly, hips jerking against sae’s skilled mouth as shidou reached forward and pushed his face even harder into your soaked hole.
“c’mon, sae~” shidou taunted, voice dripping with filthy glee. “…don’t be shy. make her squirt on that pretty face. i wanna see her make a mess while i fuck the attitude out of you.”
sae’s teal eyes flicked up to meet yours for a brief second. they were getting hazy, shidou was clearly getting so damn good at railing him senseless. then he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, moaning like he was the one falling apart.
shidou laughed again, low and feral, pounding into sae so hard the entire bed shook.
“fuck yeah… that’s it. eat her pussy like a good boy while i wreck you.”
shidou groaned, voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. he dug his fingers into the meat of sae’s hips, slamming his thick cock into him with long, punishing strokes.
at first , sae’s tongue moved with terrifying precision—two of his fingers curled inside your hole, working that spongy spot that made you gush.
but shidou was fucking him too good. a sudden, high-pitched and embarrassingly cute moan tore out of sae’s mouth, muffled right against your clit.
the sound was so fucking cute; breathy and broken, shooting up shivers straight through shidous dick.
you moaned loud in response, back arching hard as your pussy clenched around his fingers. shidou groaned as his balls tightened at the sound of sae finally breaking apart. “holy shit—did you hear that?”
shidou grinned wildly, squeezing his waist with heavy hands, his balls slapping against sae’s own. “sae’s moaning like a little slut ~ fuck, that’s adorable. do it again ~”
another brutal thrust and he let out another whimpery moan right into your pussy, his voice syncing perfectly with your own desperate cries.
the two of you were moaning together now; wet and needy while shidou rammed into sae’s ass like he was trying to bruise his p-spot.
“…your pussy… mnntastes so good..~” sae muttered hoarsely against your folds, trying to stay composed. but his words were slurred and his breath turned shaky.
his tongue flicked over your clit again and again, but his rhythm faltered when shidou angled his hips and nailed his prostate dead-on.
sae’s moans came out high and sweet. “oh fuck—! ahh~…” shidou clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.
“aww, you’re getting sloppy, sae… s'not how you eat pussy, you're doing it aaaall wrong.” without warning, shidou grabbed the back of sae’s head with one strong hand and shoved his face violently deeper between your thighs again.
his nose pressed hard against your clit, mouth completely smothered by your pussy as shidou held him there.
“theeere we go. eat her properly, you fucking prodigy." shidou growled, hips still cruelly steady. “don’t you dare half-ass it just cuz your bitch button is getting destroyed. suck on that clit like you mean it.” before landing a mean slap on his ass.
sae let out a muffled, pathetic whine, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core.
forced to breathe through you, he obeyed. he sucked hard on your clit, tongue working frantically, slurping loudly as your juices coated his chin and dripped down his neck.
the wet schlick-schlick-schlick of his fingers pumping into your soaked hole mixed with the constant, filthy slapping of shidou’s hips against sae’s ass.
you were losing your mind, your thighs were shaking around sae’s head as you moaned loudly, fingers yanking at his red hair.
shidou chuckled again, pounding sae even harder.
“yeaah~ listen to her moaning like a good girl… and you sounding like a cute little doll for me? fuck, this is perfect. keep making those pretty sounds, both of you. i wanna hear you sing while i ruin this pretty pussy ~”
sae was completely coming apart. the cold, calculating egoist was replaced by a trembling mess whose rhythm was entirely ruined. every time shidou’s hips snapped forward, sae’s fingers stuttered inside you, his tongue slipping clumsily off your clit as a broken whimper caught in his throat.
“ohhh ~!… fuck, nnh—slow down y— ~” sae wheezed, his forehead dropping heavily against your inner thigh. he tried to pump his fingers again, but shidou hit his sweet spot again and again, making his hand go entirely limp inside you.
shidou growled, he was getting irritated by sae’s shit job at making you feel good. he wrapped his hand tight around his throat, pulling his face out from between your legs.
“i said don't fucking half-ass it, you’re pissing me off sae.” shidou snarled, his eyes flashing with a mix of heat and genuine annoyance. “you’re getting so pathetic you can’t even feed your girl properly? look at her. she’s waiting on you, and you’re killing her by acting like a little bitch.”
sae couldn’t even glare back. his pretty teal eyes were completely glassy, heavy-lidded and swimming with tears of pure overstimulation.
his mouth hung slightly open, a thin string of saliva connecting his lips to your soaked thigh. he let out a soft, defeated whine, his head rolling weakly in shidou iron grip. “tch, move your useless ass.”
shidou gripped sae’s narrow waist and dragged him backward just a few inches—not pulling out, but stretching his tight body out so shidou could slide his own torso over sae’s back.
shidou leaned all the way forward, pinning sae flat against the mattress beneath his weight, using his dick to anchor him completely.
now, shidou was hovering directly over your winking pussy, his wild eyes locking onto yours. “watch closely.,” he purred, and then dove down, burying his face directly into your dripping core.
he swiped raw, heavy strokes straight up and down your clit, sucking the entire hood into his mouth. “oh my god—wait! ryu thats—too much nghh!” a high, shattered sob ripped from your throat. the sudden, brutal shift from sae's neat technique to shidou's feral greed completely broke your brain.
at the exact same moment, shidou braced his hands on the mattress and doubled his pace.
he began to jackhammer sae’s ass with rapid-fire thrusts, hips slamming into his ass with a brutal tempo.
the sound in the room became deafening, underneath shidou, sae utterly broken. locked into place and unable to escape the dual assault of shidou’s cock punishing his insides and his weight crushing him down, sae let out a continuous, high-pitched, broken wails right into the sheets.
he was sobbing openly now, his fingers clutching desperately at the pillows, his tight walls convulsing so hard they were practically strangling shidous cock.
“ah-ah-ah! fu…fuck! —ryusei ~!” sae shrieked, his voice entirely ruined, his cock was leaking so much, creating huge wet spots on the mattress.
above him, shidou didn't ease up for a second. he just sucked harder on your clit, his tongue vibrating against your gushing slit while he used sae’s weeping body like an absolute playground.
you were blind with pleasure. the loud smacks of shidou’s hips hitting sae’s ass combined with the feral, heavy suction of his tongue on your clit pushed you straight past your limit.
your thighs clamped tightly around his head, pussy tightening into fierce, violent contractions.
shidou felt it instantly. the sudden, hot rush of your slick pooling under his tongue told him everything he needed to know.
with a low and wicked chuckle, he pulled his face away from your dripping cunt. without a second of hesitation, he reached down, grabbed a fistful of sae’s hair and yanked his head upward.
"open up, baby," shidou growled, his voice gravelly as he forced sae’s jaw open with his thumb, pinning him right beneath your trembling hole. “wait! stopstopstop— i'm gonna- ngh! gonna cum ~!” you gasped out, your internal muscles violently seizing.
"you didn't want to work for it? fine, here, take it all like a good little dumpster then."
sae let out a pathetic, breathless sob, his teal eyes completely rolled back as shidou held his mouth wide open directly under you.
your back snapped off the mattress as you screamed, an intense wave of your juices squirting straight into sae’s open mouth and splashing across his flushed, sweat-slicked face.
shidou held him there ruthlessly, forcing him to swallow down every single drop of your climax while his tight ass choked on shidou’s cock.
sae’s throat bobbed helplessly, whimpering and gagging softly as he was forced to consume the proof of his own failure.
"yeah… swallow it the fuck down," shidou panted, the sight of sae completely ruined and drenched in your slick driving him completely over the edge.
shidou’s pace grew frantic and feral. he abandoned all rhythm, just slamming himself into sae’s prostate with heavy, bottoming-out thrusts that shook the entire frame of the bed.
sae could only wail against shidou’s hand, his body twitching in a delayed, ruined orgasm of his own, his spent dicklet spurting uselessly onto the sheets.
"gonna cum,,, fuck i’m gonna cum~. take it...ghk! take it—!"
shidou let out a raw, echoing roar, his nails digging into sae’s narrow hips as he buried himself to the absolute hilt.
he froze, his muscles locking tight as he emptied a massive, burning load deep inside sae’s twitching ass. he pumped into him again and again, painting his insides until he was completely spent.
the room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the wet, messy sounds of three completely ruined people.
shidou collapsed heavily onto sae’s back, a victorious laugh vibrating in his chest as sae lay completely still beneath him, sobbing softly into plush meat of your inner thighs.
─ ˚⊱ ୨ৎ ⊰˚ i heard a rumor that rin gets super sensitive when you suck it..
you kneeled down in between rin’s legs, his hard cock bouncing off his boxer once you took them off. his teal eyes staring at your movement each time— his fingers holding the sheets underneath him, feeling the sensation of him being sensitive already.
his breathing hitched as your tongue licked the tip of his member, precum already coating your taste buds.
"fuck.. right there," he groaned, tossing his head back against the bed frame, black hair fanning out. his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "yeah... right like that..." his hips involuntarily twitched upward, seeking more contact.
your lips sealed around the head, tongue swirling that slick slit while your right hand squeezed his thick base. he cursed sharply in japanese, thighs trembling under your touch. "shit—shit, don't stop—" his grip tightened on your hair, not guiding, just hanging on like he might float away.
the low guttural sounds he made vibrated against your skull.
his rhythm faltered for a moment as you sucked harder, throat constricting around his shaft. his hips jerked uncontrollably, slapping against your face as he rode the sensation.
"wait—wait—" he breathed, gasping out. then his hips locked straight, eyes rolling back as the first burst of cum hit your tongue. his release was intense, back arching off the bed as he emptied himself into your mouth.
legs shaking, he let out a series of muffled curses, completely lost in the moment. his grip on your hair loosened, but his hands remained there, tangling in your locks.
after his cum came a second wave, softer this time, your tongue lapping it up slowly. the taste was saltier, sweeter—his essence now coating your taste buds completely.
"fuck... fuck," he rasped, breathing ragged. "that was..." he couldn't even finish the thought. his body went limp against the sheets, heart pounding, just staring up at you with those teal dazed, grateful eyes.
“one more time..?” you mumbled against his length.
his eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide. he stared at your face buried between his legs, the slick evidence of his pleasure still clinging to your chin.
"more?" he choked out, somewhere between a laugh and a whimper. "you just— i just—" he couldn't even find the words. his hand came up to cover his eyes, embarrassed. "there's literally nothing left to give."
he dropped his head back against the frame, letting out a helpless laugh mixed with a broken moan. "you're fucking impossible..."
he was already trembling, overstimulated and absolutely drained. his cock was twitching softly, limp and sensitive against your lips. but even knowing he couldn't physically cum again, he didn't push you away. he trusted you.
"go ahead..." so you sank back down, lips brushing against his sensitive length. he flinched violently, nearly crying out. just the slightest contact had him squirming— the tip already swollen and leaking pinkish precum from his earlier release.
"ah— fuck, fuck fuck—" he hissed through clenched teeth.
his entire body jolted like he’d been electrocuted. a sharp, broken sob tore from his throat as your lips met the swollen, weeping tip. his hands flew down, fingers tangling desperately in your hair—not to push you away, but just to hold on for dear life.
his cock bucked against your mouth, completely unresponsive to pleasure anymore—just pure, overwhelming sensation. his abs cramped visibly, thighs shaking so hard they were hitting each other.
a pathetic, high-pitched whine escaped him that he would never admit to making. but your lips never stopped. gentle, soft licks over the leaking tip. he was so sensitive he couldn't even function. not even functioning. he was just— whimpering.
his body completely broke down. he couldn't even form words anymore, just a series of pathetic whimpers and broken sobs. his hips were bucking up into your mouth uncontrollably, his limp dick completely uncaring about stimulation—just reacting to the overwhelming sensation.
his back arched off the bed, mouth falling open in a silent scream as his cock bucked violently against your lips. then came the thin spurts of cum into your mouth.
Whatever you and Kaiser had, was strictly confidential.
You’ve known him since you two were teenagers, long before he became the emperor he is on the field, long before he strived to conquer the world.
Kaiser isn’t one to settle down and get comfortable with someone. He’s just incapable of said thing.
When you two kissed for the first time, you were just drunk silly. One thing led to another and the next day you both woke up tangled under the sheets.
That day, you and Kaiser agreed to keep things “casual”. But for Kaiser, casual wasn’t casual at all. There’s nothing casual about making out with your best friend, nothing casual about late night sex or secret hotel room bookings. Nothing casual about flying you out with him wherever he goes, keeping you at arm’s length.
He’s often never seen with you in public, he pretty much prefers to keep you a secret, however, in private… boy oh boy. Things take a huge turn in private.
He tries to be gentle with you, he really tries, yet sometimes, he’s so awful and so mean. Especially today.
After finding out you had been sneaking around with other men, something in him snapped.
“I thought—” you huffed.
“— you said — no attachment—”
You managed to blurt your words out between aggressive kisses. Pressed flush against the cold wall, your shirt had already been hiked up over your breasts. Kaiser’s large hands were kneading the soft flesh with rough desperation, his thumbs rolling relentlessly with heavy friction over your nipples.
Michael pulled back less than an inch, his hot breath fanning over your face and his teeth catching on your bottom lip with a sharp tug that made you wince. His breathing was just as ragged as yours, his eyes were blown wide and dark with pure, territorial rage.
He let out a low, mocking laugh against your open mouth, the grip on your chest tightening just enough to make you gasp.
He hummed against your neck, mouth bruising your sweet flesh. “No attachment. And yet, you let someone else look at you?”
Before you could utter a word, his hand slid up from your breast, his fingers wrapping tightly around the front of your throat and pinning your head against the wall.
“You let someone else touch what is mine?”
His grip tightened at the mere thought of anyone other than him claiming what’s his. It infuriated him. His grip was tight enough to restrict your airway, forcing shallow, desperate gasps from your lips. Your hands instinctively shot up to claw at his wrist, but his arm was like iron. He didn’t budge an inch, his fingers squeezing firmly against your windpipe.
He leaned in closer, his chest pressing flat against your bare breasts. Crushing you with his solid torso. He looked down at you with his mocking blue eyes, suffocating you with his lustful and rage-fueled gaze.
“Who was it,” he demanded, the vibration of his voice rattling against your collarbones.
“Michael—” you choked out, your voice coming out small, above a whisper. You struggled to breathe, let alone answer in a full coherent sentence. He tilted your chin up with the pressure of his thumb alone, fixing your gaze so that you were looking at him. He knew what he was doing. He knew how you liked it. He knew he’s the only one who can give you what you needed. And you knew what you were doing.
“Won’t answer, huh? Guess I just gotta fuck an answer out of you,” In a swift move, he hooked his arm under you, lifting you up and tossing you onto the mattress.
Kaiser’s cock had been ramming inside of you for hours, pushing you past your limits. Your back arched and your toes flexed as you wrapped your arms and legs around his torso, your fingernails digging into his skin, leaving red, angry crescents.
A creamy white ring of friction and fluids formed around the base of his hard member, his ears drank up all of the beautiful moans you were letting out just for him.
“Du bist meins,” he groaned out through gritted teeth, his bangs sticking to his forehead. The bed was drenched with sweat and cum, your legs shook around him and the room was wafting with the scent of sex. Black streaks of mascara and tears were staining your cheeks. “Say it, say it to me, liebling.”
“I— nnngghhmm — s-s’so good — hah —” you huffed out, his body pressed against yours making it hard to breathe. “— I’m all — hah yours —”
“Das ist eine gute Nutte.” His lips captured yours in a wet kiss, both your tongues dancing together as he released thick, hot ropes of cum inside of you.
Michael Kaiser had spent the rest of the night watching your chest move up and down, tucking stray hairs out of your face, adoring your relaxed features as you slept beside him, his hand holding yours, legs tangled up with his.
Bachira between your legs was something you werent expecting tonight, after the long day you both had you were simply thinking he would want to cuddle into the night.
oh, but you were wrong, so wrong.
he has a small vibrator pressed up to your clit, giving you no breaks as you cum for the nth time this evening. two fingers plunge deep inside your awaiting pussy, dripping with need. he looks up, his eyes meeting yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face.
"feels good?" he says as if he was asking about the weather. you try but cant seem to form coherent sentances, the words come out mixed with your sweet moans. he feigns innocence, cocking his head to the side as he continues curling his fingers. "what was that, sweets? you gotta answer when i ask a question."
“its— ah— a lot, sensitive….” you manage to say, overwhelmed from all the sensations as he presses the vibrator down hard on your clit, making you moan and squirm. "ill take that as a yes, atta girl,”
he kisses the insides of your thighs, gently nipping and sucking just enough to make some light marks on the skin. your hands reach to claw at the sheets beside you as he thrusts his fingers faster, hitting your g-spot with each thrust.
“you gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod frantically. His fingers slow suddenly and you groan in frustration. “thought it was alot, hmmm? c’mon, ask nicely.”
you sigh as he still delivers you pleasure from the vibrator, but barely presses it onto you, effectively trapping you from finishing. “please, wanna cum— ill be good, promise..!” he hums, pretending to think.
“mmm, good enough!” he slides his fingers back into you and turns to vibrator up to the max setting. Pleasure explodes as you hit your peak, your vision going white from the force and your previous orgasms.
he continues to press the vibrator on you, pulling his fingers out to lick off your arousal. “that was good, think you can do it on my dick next?”
you were in for a long night.
————
・ ꪖ/n - cheeky draft cause i’m still having a writers block 👿
athletic men who spend all their time training, laser-focused on improving their skills before the next competition
athletic men whose muscles ache as they sit down to sip on the electrolyte drink, half listening in on their coach’s rambling on team strategies
athletic men who immediately go straight into the locker room, quickly showering and changing before grabbing their duffel bag and leaving
athletic men who, upon returning home, immediately pull you in and lock their lips onto yours as you open the front door, not even leaving space for proper greetings
athletic men who kick the front door closed, dropping their belongings on the ground, sneaking their hands under your shirt and groping your breasts as they continue to savour your taste
athletic men who feel your moans in their mouths, yet they leave no room for you to catch your breath as they continue to explore your body with their rough, muscular hands
athletic men who can’t get enough of you, so they grab you by the waist to guide you to the living room sofa, taking off your (his) oversized jersey to reveal your bare body
athletic men who hungrily take in your scent as they place kisses from your neck down to the more sensitive areas on your body, your soft moans becoming the music to their ears
athletic men who are so, so tired from practice, yet always have to physically restrain themselves from fucking you right then and there by the entrance of your shared apartment, as you become their after-practice stress reliever
tags: NSFW . minors dni . mostly a crack fic . piv . fem!reader . pure filthy smut . blowjobs/pussyeating . getting caught . etc
w.c. 3.7k
a/n: no comments. anyway, this fic was requested by this ask here! ( @solalol you have the greatest mind ever<3)
Sae Itoshi — caught by shidou
sae had you pinned against the wall, cock buried deep inside you as he fucked you with rough, punishing strokes.
it had been far too long. the second he came home and saw you, he didn't waste a single second on words. he simply shoved your shorts down, freed his aching cock and sank into you in one brutal thrust.
now he was drilling into you hard, hips snapping forward with a steady, merciless rhythm that had your back sliding against the wall with every thrust.
"fuck...sae—" you moaned, legs locked tight around his waist. your nails dug into his shoulders as he drove deeper. "you're so deep...ahh!"
he growled against your neck, teeth scraping your skin. "been waiting weeks for this cunt," hus voice was low, strained with lust. "so fucking wet for me already."
one of his hands gripped your ass tighter, the other braced on the wall as he angled his hips and started hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. your moans grew louder, shameless, echoing in the small bedroom. the wet, filthy sound of his cock sliding in and out of you filled the air.
"gonna cum—sae..."
"then cum," he ordered, voice dark. let me feel you,"
he slammed into you harder, grinding against your clit on every deep thrust. the coil in your stomach snapped without warning. you cried out, walls clenching violently around his thick cock as your orgasm crashed through you. your whole body shook, thighs trembling around him while you moaned his name like a prayer.
sae kept fucking you through it, jaw clenched, eyes burning as he felt you pulsing and gushing around him. he was close, very close—but he was holding back, savoring the way your cunt squeezed him.
that's when suddenly the door swung open without a knock.
"oi, itoshi! you got any—" shidou's voice stopped dead.
ge stood there in the doorway, eyes widening before that wild, predatory grin spread across his face. he took in the scene: you pressed against the wall, legs wrapped around sae, his cock still buried inside your twitching pussy, your face flushed from your recent orgasm.
sae froze mid-thrust, buried to the hilt. the sudden shock of being caught hit sae like a freight train.
"dude shit—!" he grunts through gritted teeth.
his hips jerked once, involuntarily. a groan tore from his throat as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside you while shidou watched shamelessly. sae's face dropped to your neck, biting down hard to muffle the sound as his cock pulsed again and again, emptying everything he had.
you whimpered at the feeling of him filling you up right in front of his roommate.
sae's breathing was ragged against your skin. his cock was still twitching inside you, sensitive and spent, as he slowly lifted his head.
"get the fuck out," he hissed, voice hoarse and dangerous.
shidou only smirked wider, tongue poking at the corner of his mouth. "you sure I cant a piece of that?"
"touch her and I'll kill you," sae said, holding you close to him.
shidou smirked, "fine. i'll just touch you then."
Nagi Seishiro — caught by his bff
nagi was fucking you like he'd die if he stopped. it wasnt his fault really. it'd been six whole months since he last saw you. you've been traveling thanks to being a model and well...he missed you.
he had you lifted completely off the ground, your back pressed tight against his chest as he stood behind you. his strong arms hooked under your knees, spreading your legs wide open in a full nelson hold. every needy thrust drove his long, thick cock deep into your dripping pussy, the wet sounds echoing obscenely in the room.
"fuck...missed you so much," he groaned into your ear, voice rough and desperate—nothing like his usual lazy drawl. his hips snapped up harder, burying himself to the hilt with every stroke. "been thinking about this pussy nonstop...couldn't wait anymore."
you moaned loudly, head falling back against his shoulder as he manhandled you effortlessly. the position left you completely exposed—tits bouncing, cunt stretched wide around his cock, his balls slapping against you with every deep thrust. his grip on your legs was iron tight, lifting you up and down on his length like you weighed nothing.
"nagi—! ahh, too deep—!" you cried out, pleasure bordering on overwhelming.
"mmm..can't help it," he panted, lips brushing your neck as he fucked you harder. "need you...need to feel you cum on me." his voice cracked with raw need, hips losing their rhythm as he chased the feeling of your tight heat.
one of his hands shifted slightly so he could rub fast circles over your swollen clit while still bouncing you on his cock. the combination was lethal.
"i-i..i'm cumming, nagi!" you screamed, body seizing up as your orgasm slammed into you. your cunt clenched violently around his thrusting cock, gushing wetly as waves of pleasure tore through you. your legs shook in his grip, juices dripping down his balls.
"you're squeezing me so tight," nagi whined, voice needy and broken. he kept fucking you through your orgasm, desperate and relentless, his own release building fast.
the door suddenly burst open.
"nagi? i got the new—oh my god."
reo stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide in pure shock. the scene hit him like a truck: nagi holding you up in a full nelson, your legs spread obscenely wide, cunt stretched around nagi's thick cock, your cum still dripping down his balls, everything completely bare and on full display.
nagi's hips stuttered. the sudden mortifying realization that reo was seeing everything — your dripping cunt, the way his cock was buried inside you, the way you were still twitching from your orgasm—sent him spiraling.
"reo—?!" nagi gasped, voice strained.
he couldn't hold back. with a needy groan, he slammed up into you one last time and came hard. thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your pussy as his cock pulsed violently inside you. his arms trembled slightly as he kept holding your legs up, forcing you to take every last drop while reo watched in stunned silence.
you whimpered at the overwhelming feeling of being filled while completely exposed.
reo's face turned bright red, all the way to his ears. his mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally managed to speak.
"i didn't...fuck, im so sorry!" he slapped a hand over his eyes, clearly flustered beyond belief, but not before you both saw how red his cheeks were. "i should've knocked—i didn't know she came back!"
reo peeked through his fingers for half a second, saw the way nagi cum was leaking out around his cock and immediately covered his eyes again.
"you know what..im leaving! i'mm leaving right now! sorry!" he turned on his heel, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed out and slammed the door shut behind him.
the room fell silent for a moment except for both of you panting.
nagi slowly lowered your legs, but didn't pull out yet. he wrapped his arms around your waist instead, hugging you from behind as he buried his face in your neck, still catching his breath.
"...that was embarrassing," he muttered, though his cock gave a lazy twitch inside you. "but you felt really good when he walked in. did you like being watched?"
you let out a breathless laugh. "you're such a pervert."
he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "only for you."
Rin Itoshi — caught by his bro
rin had you completely folded underneath him in a ruthless mating press, knees pressed tight to your shoulders as he fucked you with deep, punishing strokes.
his hips snapped forward with brutal precision, driving every thick inch of his cock into your soaked pussy until his heavy balls slapped loudly against your ass. the wet, obscene squelching of your cunt filled the room with every thrust, your juices dripping down your ass and soaking the sheets beneath you.
his arm was locked around the back of your neck in a tight headlock, forcing you to stare up at his intense, flushed face while he railed you. sweat glistened on his forehead, his eyes burning with possessive hunger as he watched every flicker of pleasure and desperation cross your face.
"fuck—you're squeezing me so tight," he growled, voice low and mean, punctuating his words with a particularly vicious grind of his hips that made his cockhead bully against your cervix. "this sloppy cunt is mine. say it."
"it's all yours—rin..nghhh! 'm yours!" you moaned, voice breaking as he hammered that perfect spot inside you over and over. your walls fluttered and clenched greedily around his girth, trying to pull him even deeper.
he smirked darkly, tightening the headlock just enough to make your breath hitch.
"louder. i want everyone to know who you belong to." he pulled back almost all the way, letting just the fat tip stretch your entrance, then slammed back in with a savage thrust that made your tits bounce and your eyes roll back.
you cried out, nails digging into his back as he set a punishing rhythm—long, dragging strokes that made you feel every vein and ridge of his cock, followed by short, rapid punches that left you gasping. "rin—! please—fuck, it's too deep—!"
"too deep?" he laughed, low and cruel, leaning down to bite at your exposed neck. "you were begging for this earlier. now take it like the greedy little slut you are." one of his hands slid down to grip your ass hard, spreading you wider so he could watch his cock disappear inside your puffy, dripping folds.
the lewd sight made him groan, his pace growing even more erratic and forceful.
your body was burning, every nerve singing as he fucked you senseless. the pressure built higher and higher, your thighs trembling violently against his shoulders. you could feel another orgasm coiling tight in your core, even stronger than the last.
"rin—! im gonna cum..! please don't stop—!" you sobbed, tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes.
"then cum," he snarled, crushing his mouth to yours in a messy, dominating kiss before pulling back. "cum on my cock like you were made for it. milk me, baby."
your orgasm hit you like a freight train. your walls clamped down hard around his thick cock as you cried out, gushing wetly all over him while your whole body shook violently in his grasp. tears of pleasure slipped down your cheeks as you came hard, pussy spasming and squirting around him in messy pulses.
right in the middle of your climax, your eyes flew open and locked onto the figure standing in the doorway.
"sae..?" you gasped in horror.
rin froze mid thrust, buried balls deep inside your spasming cunt. his head snapped toward the door, eyes widening in genuine surprise for a split second.
sae stood there with his arms crossed, watching the scene with a cold, slightly disgusted expression.
for a moment, the room was dead silent except for your heavy breathing and the wet sounds of your pussy still fluttering around rin's cock.
then sae spoke, voice flat and unimpressed.
"you both disgust me. at least have some shame."
he turned and left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
"what the hell..?" rin stayed frozen for another second, still deep inside you, processing what just happened. then his lips curled into a dangerous, mean smirk. he looked back down at your flushed, embarrassed face and tightened the headlock again.
"anyway, where were we?" he asked, voice low and venomous.
without waiting for an answer, he slammed back into you with a brutal thrust, picking up right where he left off, even harder than before.
"cumming on my cock while my brother watched? you're such a fucking whore,” he snarled, pounding you mercilessly into the mattress. "don't worry...ill make sure you remember who you really belong to."
Isagi Yoichi — caught by bachira
isagi's head was thrown back against the couch, mouth open in a silent moan as you knelt between his spread legs. his chest heaved with every shaky breath, the usually confident striker completely undone by the wet heat of your mouth.
this was his first blowjob and it was overwhelming him completely. your lips stretched around his thick cock, sliding slowly up and down while your tongue pressed flat against the underside. your hand stroked the base in perfect rhythm with your mouth, twisting gently on the way up.
his thighs trembled violently on either side of you, fingers digging so hard into the couch cushions that his knuckles turned white.
"ahh—fuck… baby, that feels so good," he panted, voice hoarse and cracking. "i-i can't—nghh!"
you hummed around his length, the vibration making his cock twitch hard against your tongue. you took him deeper, relaxing your throat until the head bumped the back of it. isagi’s hips jerked up instinctively, a broken whimper escaping his throat as saliva dripped down his shaft and over your fingers.
you pulled back slowly, letting your tongue swirl around the sensitive head, teasing the slit where precum was steadily leaking. his cock was flushed dark and glistening, veins pulsing visibly under the wet sheen. you looked up at him through your lashes, loving how wrecked he already looked—flushed cheeks, messy hair, half-lidded eyes glazed with pleasure.
"slow down a little… 'm gonna—" he gasped, trying to warn you, but his words dissolved into another needy moan as you sucked harder, hollowing your cheeks.
you pulled off with a wet pop, a thick string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his throbbing tip. "you're doing so well, isagi," you purred, voice low and sweet. your hand kept lazily pumping him, thumb brushing over the slick head.
"just relax and let me take care of you, hm? i want to make your first time feel amazing."
isagi nodded frantically, biting his lip as you dove back down. you took him even deeper this time, nose brushing against his trimmed pubic hair as you swallowed around him. his hand flew to your hair, not pushing, just gripping desperately like he needed something to hold onto while you worked him.
"oh shit—yes, just like that," he groaned, the words tumbling out broken and desperate. you bobbed faster, sucking noisily, letting messy slurping sounds fill the room. one of your hands slid up to gently roll his balls, massaging them as your mouth worshipped every inch of his cock.
isagi's moans grew louder, more shameless. his abs clenched visibly with every deep suck, thighs shaking harder as he fought the urge to thrust into your throat.
"you're so fucking good at this… i'm—i’m really close," he warned, voice cracking. his cock throbbed heavily on your tongue, the veins pulsing faster as his orgasm built.
you whined around him in encouragement, doubling your efforts. you took him as deep as you could, throat contracting around him while your hand stroked the rest in tight, twisting motions. isagi's breathing turned ragged, his head tipping back again as broken whimpers and curses spilled from his lips.
his thighs started shaking harder, muscles jumping under your palms. his grip in your hair tightened, hips stuttering as he teetered right on the edge.
"baby—fuck, i'm gonna cum—"
right as isagi’s moans turned into broken, high-pitched whimpers and his cock started pulsing wildly on your tongue, the door to the shared room swung open.
"heya isagi! wanna go—WHOA!"
bachira stood in the doorway, eyes wide as saucers. he took in the full scene: you on your knees with isagi's cock buried in your mouth, isagi's flushed face and messy hair, his pants around his ankles.
isagi's eyes snapped open in panic. "bachira?"
bachira's cheeks instantly turned bright red. his usual energy vanished, replaced by pure flustered embarrassment. he slapped both hands over his mouth.
"oh i didn't see anything... i did...but uhm, sorry!!"
he spun around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet and bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
the room fell silent for a second.
isagi was still rock hard in your mouth, throbbing desperately. his face was burning crimson with embarrassment, but the sudden shock and adrenaline seemed to push him right to the edge.
"oh god..fuck," his voice broke off into a desperate moan as his hips jerked.
you started again, cutting him off. you sucked him deeper and isagi came instantly with a loud, broken groan. thick spurts of cum flooded your mouth as he trembled and panted through his orgasm, overwhelmed from both the pleasure and the mortifying interruption.
you swallowed everything, gently pulling off with a soft pop and wiping the corner of your mouth with a blush. isagi slumped back on the couch, chest heaving, looking completely dazed.
"...i think we sacred him.." he mumbled, covering his red face with both hands.
you climbed onto his lap and kissed his cheek with a grin.
"at least you finally got your first blowjob."
isagi peeked at you through his fingers, still flushed. "yeah..it was amazing."
Hyoma Chigiri — caught by his sis
chigiri had your thighs spread wide on his bed, his long red hair tickling the insides of your legs as he ate you out like a man starved.
his tongue moved with elegant precision. slow, teasing licks followed by firm, hungry strokes that had you gripping the sheets tightly.
"hyo..that feels so good," you moaned, one hand tangled in his silky hair.
he hummed against your cunt, the vibration making your hips twitch. his hands held your thighs open as he licked deeper, sucking gently on your clit before flicking his tongue over it rapidly. he was a natural—attentive, passionate, and devastatingly good with his mouth.
"you taste so sweet," he murmured, voice slightly husky. he looked up at you with those sharp, beautiful eyes, lips glistening with your arousal. "i could do this for hours.."
he leaned back in, sucking your clit into his mouth while sliding two long fingers inside you, curling them perfectly against your g-spot. your back arched off the bed, moans growing louder and needier.
"hyoo! hah—im so close, please,"
he doubled down, tongue working faster, fingers pumping steadily. your thighs started trembling around his head as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter.
just as your orgasm was about to crash over you, the door to his bedroom opened.
"hyoma? have you seen my..." chigiri's sister paused mid sentence, eyes widening.
she was holding a towel around her wet hair, clearly fresh out of the shower. "i wanted to borrow your conditioner, but..oh."
you let out a mortified squeak and tried to close your legs, but chigiri's grip kept them open for another second before he finally lifted his head.
his sister's face turned bright red. "i-i didn't know you had someone over, my bad!"
chigiri wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, surprisingly calm despite the situation, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks.
"it's fine..just leave, please?"
his sister nodded quickly, clearly flustered. "right! sorry again! carry on or whatever.."
she rushed out and closed the door behind her.
you covered your face with both hands, dying from embarrassment. "oh my god..your sister just saw you eating me out i wanna die."
chigiri let out a soft chuckle and gently pulled your hands away from your face. his eyes were still dark with lust.
"she'll survive,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "let's continue?"
he lowered his head again, tongue sliding back through your folds as if nothing happened. " no dying yet, i still haven't made you cum and 'm not stopping until i do three times."
"hah—hyo!"
Megruru Bachira — caught by rin
bachira had you bent over the desk in his room, pounding into you from behind.
he was in one of his feral moods—fucking you hard and fast, hands gripping your hips tightly. his cock stretched you open perfectly with every deep stroke.
"so tight and warm," he says breathlessly, leaning over your back. "i love how you squeeze me when i go deep like this.."
"meg..ahh! slow down a little!" you moaned, gripping the edge of the desk as he railed you. the desk creaked loudly under the force of his thrusts.
"aw baby, but you feel so good!" he pouts playfully, before suddenly changed angles and started hitting that spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyes. "i wanna to hear more of those cute sounds..yeah, good girl."
his pace turned relentless, hips snapping against your ass as he fucked you. one of his hands snaked around to rub your clit, making your legs shake.
"gonna cum meg, 'm gonna cum!" you cried out.
"hah—shit, cum for me baby," he groans, thrusting harder.
your orgasm hit hard. you cried out, cun clenching around his cock as pleasure ripped through you. bachira groaned at the feeling, still pounding into you without slowing down, chasing his own high with that signature wild energy.
then the door slammed open.
"what the hell is this noise—?" rin stopped dead in the doorway, eyes widening in pure disgust.
bachira's hips stuttered for a second as he looked over at rin, still buried deep inside your twitching cunt. a big, mischievous grin spread across his flushed face.
"oh rin! wanna join?" he said cheerfully, giving one lazy thrust into you just to make you whimper.
rin's face twisted in horror and annoyance. "ew. you're disgusting. both of you. i can hear you from down the hall."
you buried your face in your arms on the desk, mortified, still full of bachira's cock and dripping from your orgasm.
bachira only grins, clearly unbothered. "we were? aw..my bad,"
"shut up," rin snapped, cheeks slightly red. "lock the damn door next time, idiot."
he turned around sharply and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
the second the door closed, bachira looked down at you. "hm..make more noise for me okay? let them all here."
Blue Lock boys overhear your conversations and think you hate how they fuck you
Ft. Bunny Iglesias, Sae Itoshi, Vivian Hugo, Michael Kaiser
Bunny Iglesias
Bunny was on top of you, thrusting achingly slow, and just the tip at that. It was driving you mad. This wasn’t like your boyfriend at all. Sure he took his time with you but by now he’d have your face smashed into the pillow dumping load after load into you. So what the fuck had gotten into him?
It was killing you. Your arousal was dripping onto the sheets while he teased you with just the tip. Your face was hot and your body was squirming, looking for any sort of release.
“Mm-Bunny…go all the way baby,” You whined, arching your back so his cock would slip in a little further.
But Bunny just pulled back, continuing to tease you with just his tip prodding in and out of your entrance.
“What’s wrong Princesa? I thought you didn’t like it rough.” He stopped moving all together and looked at you pointedly.
You whined at the loss of the small movement that was keeping you somewhat sane. What was he talking about? He knows you love it when he fucks you rough, he knows you absolutely love having your legs thrown over his shoulders while he thrusts into you. Half of the time when you see him all you think about is his biceps choking you while he drills into you from behind.
“What?” You asked aloud, confused.
Bunny leaned back, pulling out of you, “I heard you say to your friend on the phone the other day ‘I hate that he’s so rough’. So I decided to not be rough, since you hate it so much,” He explained, crossing his big arms over his bare chest while turning his head away from you, a small pout and light blush on his face.
You blinked and stared at your boyfriend. “Bunny” You cooed, reaching to run a hand down his bicep. “I was talking about our professor, we were complaining about how tough he grades” You stifled a laugh watching Bunny’s pout drop and face blush deeper.
“You weren’t speaking about me?” He asked, arms still crossed across his scarred chest.
“Of course not handsome. I love when you’re rough.” You laughed lightly at him, “I didn’t even say ‘rough’ I said ‘tough’”
“English isn’t my first language,” He replied, grabbing your legs and throwing them on his shoulders.
He thrust in slowly, his cock finally stretching you open as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy. You let out a soft moan, digging your nails into his shoulders as your pussy squelched, your arousal coating his thick cock.
“Let me redeem myself Cariño” He spoke before catching your lips in a kiss.
Sae Itoshi
Everybody knows Sae to quiet and reserved. Not shy, but always saying less than necessary.
But when you two got intimate it would be one of the few times he’d let loose and let his sounds spill freely from his lips while he was sheathed inside you.
It took months of your prodding and persuading but he finally felt comfortable enough around you to be vulnerable in that way.
So why the fuck was he quiet as a mouse while you were riding him. He could never keep quiet while you were on top.
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, gently bouncing up and down his length. His head was turned away from you, refusing to make eye contact, and his jaw was clenched. He did feel it, he was stifling his moans on purpose. You for the life of you just couldn’t understand why.
So you did the only rational thing: you began bouncing and grinding harder, moaning his name obscenely, and digging your nails into his chest.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and grabbed the pillow beside his head and covered his face to stifle a moan. You heard a soft vibration move through the pillow, as he clutched it with both hands.
You stopped moving and yanked the pillow off his face, “What is wrong with you today?!” You asked your boyfriend, bewilderment and slight anger in your voice.
“Nothing.” He mumbled with a scowl on his face, turning his head away from you again.
You grabbed his chin and forced his head to face you, “What’s wrong?” You asked, a little bit more sincere this time.
He tried to look away again but you kept your grip on his jaw firm.
Sae let out a sigh, “I heard you say to your friend you hate how loud I get, when I went to pick you up yesterday,” He mumbled.
You looked at him, confused for a moment.
Then you remembered, “Oh Sae, baby, that wasn’t about you hun, it was about this annoying try-hard at work. He always talks super loud and then I can’t ever hear what customers are saying.” You cooed gently, pushing his messy hair back.
“Oh” He stared up at you, embarrassed, “Sorry” He said, blushing, turning his head away from you.
“It’s okay,” You replied, caressing his cheek and slowly moving your hips again, grinding down on his cock.
This time he gripped your hips tightly and whimpered proudly as your pussy clenched around him like a vice.
But you better not tell anyone Sae Itoshi does anything but brood around all day.
Michael Kaiser
“Mihay…I’m tired” You whine.
You’ve been bouncing up and down on your boyfriend’s dick for what feels like hours now, and usually when you’d mention being tired he’d switch positions without complaint, but today he was being unusually cruel, refusing to give your tired legs a break.
“Keep going Schatz, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Michael spoke from under you.
He was resting lazily on the silk sheets, looking up at you with a look that was a mix between smugness and disappointment? His hands were behind his head and he was barely letting out any noise, bitting down on his tongue to make sure of it too.
You didn’t have the energy to ponder about it, the pleasure coursing through your body and the burn in your legs was all you could feel at the moment.
“Mihya pleease. I can’t keep going.” You cried out in frustration.
Michael just looked at you with an eyebrow raised. When it was clear your boyfriend wasn’t going to step in anytime soon you got off of him and collapsed on the bed with a huff.
Michael leaned over, hovering on top of you, “Bet you won’t complain about me always being on top now, will you Schatzi?” He said with a smirk.
You looked up at him with furrowed brows, catching your breath, and waiting for the feeling to come back into your legs, “Mihya what’re you talking about?”
Michael looked offended beyond belief, “Do you think I’m stupid Schatz? I heard you talking to your friend the other day saying ‘Oh I hate how he always has to be on top all the time’. So I only gave you what you wanted.”
You stared up at him and hit his chest lightly, “Now I really do think you’re stupid Mihya, I wasn’t even talking about you! I was talking about this guy in my lecture who’s a total teachers pet. God if you’re gonna eavesdrop at least listen to the whole thing” You said, rolling your eyes.
“Oh” He stared at you deadpan, his pride wounded because he was wrong, “So you don’t hate it when I’m on top of you?” He asked, trying to regain some of his dignity.
“Oh course not Mihya,” You replied, wrapping your arms around him to pull him onto you, “I love when you’re on top,” You kissed him then, pulling his chest flush to yours.
“So we can continue?” He said, not really asking for permission because he knew your answer.
Before you could respond he slowly slid into you, looking down at your figure laid so beautifully on the pillows under him, right where you belong.
Vivian Hugo
Vivien was thrusting into you, huffing lightly and letting out a breathy moan here and there.
But something was wrong.
He refused to look at you and his hands stayed planted firmly on the sheets beside your head, refusing to touch you.
Your stomach was churning and your mind was racing thinking of anything you could’ve done to make him behave like this.
Normally, your boyfriend would hold you close, his hands exploring your body, and his onyx staring into yours as he thrust into you. In fact, he’d throw a fit if you even asked to do doggy because he couldn’t see your face properly, so what the fuck was his problem right now?
“Vivi,” You whined quietly under him. Your hands moved up his biceps and grabbed his shoulders, “Vivian,” You spoke again as your right hand reached up and cupped his face. You pulled his face down to look at you and he immediately closed his eyes.
Your heart broke.
“Vivian, stop” You called out, squeezing your legs against his waist, hoping to get him to slow down.
He stilled, but stayed sheathed inside you. He finally looked down at you, concern lacing his features, “What wrong?” He asked, genuine concern in his voice.
Your eyes were watery and you bit your lip before you spoke, trying to stop the tremor in your voice, “Why won’t you look at me? Or touch me? Did I do something?” You asked quietly, tears threatening to spill down your face.
Vivian’s face dropped when you spoke. His eyes widened in horror and you could almost hear his heart shatter hearing your words.
“Mon chou, don’t cry” He said, cupping your cheek, “I thought you didn’t want me to touch you? I didn’t want to cross any boundaries”
You stared at each for a moment with mirroring expressions of utter sadness and confusion. You’ve been together for 2 years! What could he possibly be on about?!
“Why wouldn’t I want you to touch me?” You asked, breaking the silence.
Vivians throat bobbed before he spoke, “When I picked you up from campus yesterday you were speaking with your friend and I heard you say ‘It’s so creepy how he makes eye contact and then touches me.’ I thought you were speaking of me. I was confused you even wanted to go this far today. I thought I you were beginning to get sick of me.”
Your eyes widened in remembrance, “Noo, Vivi, no. I wasn’t speaking about you. I was talking about this barista at the coffee shop on campus. He flirts with me all the time and when he hands me my drink he always makes direct eye contact and touches my hand. We were talking about how creepy his behaviour is” You trailed off, biting your lip.
“So I don’t disgust you?” Vivian asked quietly.
“Of course not! I love when you look into my eyes and touch me” You replied shyly.
“Do I need to deal with this barista that bothers you?” He asked, the newfound reassurance lighting up his face.
You laughed and smiled up at him, “How about you fuck me properly first. We can deal with everything else later,” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.
Vivian kissed you like a man starved. His tongue slid into your mouth as he slowly began thrusting into you again, his hands all over your body now, caressing and squeezing.
He moaned against your mouth, “I love you,” He breathed against your lips.
“Love you more,” You breathed out as he kissed down your neck to make up for the lost time.
Idek what this is man.
I was too tired to comprehend a title
Not proofread
I need to sleep foreverrrrr.
Need Vivian sososo bad, need those big ahh hands all over me.
the stadium was loud but everything felt numb. france had just lost to spain in the world cup semi finals. around you, photographers were clicking away, capturing the players crying on the grass.
then you saw vivian. he was just standing there with his hands on his hips, looking at the scoreboard. his face was completely blank. he didn't look sad or angry. he just looked like he wanted to go home.
people always called him nonchalant because he never showed emotion. they didn't know the real him. vivian was a deeply private person. he barely used social media and absolutely nobody knew that he was actually your boyfriend. to everyone, you were just a regular photographer doing your job.
after the match, the media zone was a chaotic mess. reporters were shouting, trying to get the players to say something. when vivian walked up, a journalist shoved a microphone in his face. “vivian! a heartbreaking loss. what went wrong tonight?”
vivian just stared at the mic with his usual sleepy eyes. “they scored two, we scored one. they played better. that's it.”
“but the fans are devastated! do you feel like you failed them?” another reporter asked.
vivian shrugged. “football is like that. you win some, you lose some.” he walked off before they could ask anything else. you caught his eye for a split second from behind your lens, holding back a smile. he really hated doing interviews.
the team hotel was completely dead. the mood was ass and all the players were locked in their rooms dealing with the defeat.
you were sitting alone in the dark media room downstairs, importing photos into your laptop. suddenly, the door opened. vivian walked in wearing a big grey hoodie, holding his phone and a bag of chips. he closed the door quietly behind him.
“thought you were asleep” you whispered.
“too depressing upstairs” vivian said in his lazy voice. “tout le monde soit pleure soit fixe le mur. j'ai besoin d'un peu de calme.” (everyone is either crying or staring at the wall. i need some quiet.)
he walked over, but instead of sitting on the floor, he pulled a chair right next to yours. he leaned close, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked at your laptop screen. the familiar, warm scent of his cologne instantly filled your space.
you clicked on a raw photo of him from the match. it was a closeup right after he scored, his hair soaked with sweat, his expression intense and sharp, completely different from his usual sleepy self.
“you look good here” you murmured, adjusting the lighting on the software. “very dramatic.”
vivian let out a low huff, his breath warm against your neck. “supprime-le. i look horrible.”
“je le garde” you teased, turning your head slightly. because of the proximity, your lips almost brushed against his cheek.
vivian didn't move away. his heavy lidded eyes slowly locked onto yours. he reached out, his long fingers gently catching your chin, turning your face completely toward him.
“oublie les photos” (forget the photos) he whispered, his voice dropping into a deeper, quiet tone that sent a sudden shiver down your spine.
he closed your laptop screen halfway, shutting out the bright light and leaving the room in near darkness. his other hand slid around your waist, pulling your chair flush against his, completely erasing the distance between you both.
you can feel the heat of his thighs through your clothes, the sudden sharp tension in his frame that contradicts his sleepy expression.
“you have no idea how long i've been thinking about this during the match, ma belle” he whispers, his voice a low vibration against your skin.
“the match?” you breathe. “you were focused on the game, vivian.”
“i was focused on the way you were looking at me through that lens” he murmurs. “i could feel you watching. it was driving me mad.” he doesn't wait for a response. he tilts your head back, his fingers sliding into your hair and crashes his lips against yours. it isn't a soft kiss. it is hungry and desperate, a release of all the tension he's been bottling up for ninety minutes. you taste the lingering salt of sweat and the sweetness of the chips he was eating. his tongue pushes past your lips, sweeping through your mouth in a slow, possessive rhythm, sucking on your tongue with a wet, sliding sound that makes your toes curl.
he pulls back just an inch, his breath hot and ragged.
“tu me manques tellement, même quand tu es juste là” (i miss you so much, even when you're right here) he whispers.
“i'm right here” you moan, reaching up to clutch the fabric of his grey hoodie.
vivian lets out a low, guttural hum. he shifts, his movements sudden and strong, manhandling you out of the chair and hoisting you up onto the sturdy media table. your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him deep into the cradle of your thighs. he groans, the sound vibrating in his chest and immediately buries his face in the crook of your neck.
he doesn't just kiss you, he marks you. he sucks a patch of skin just below your jaw, the pressure intense, creating a loud, wet slurping sound as he draws the flesh into his mouth. you gasp, your back arching as he leaves a dark, blooming hickey that will be impossible to hide tomorrow.
“vivian, the team …” you whisper, though you're pulling him closer.
“laisse-les” he mutters against your skin, his voice sounding rough, stripped of its usual laziness. “en ce moment, tu es la seule chose qui compte. regarde-moi juste.” (right now, you're the only thing that matters. just look at me.)
he pulls back, his heavy lidded eyes searching yours. he reaches down, his long fingers hooking into the waistband of your trousers and sliding them down with a decisive tug. he doesn’t stop until you're exposed, the cool air of the room hitting your skin before he replaces it with the heat of his palms. he cups you, his thumbs brushing against your clit through your knickers and you let out a sharp broken sound.
“you're already so wet for me, aren't you?” he asks, his tone shifting into something softer. “dis-moi, bébé. dis-moi ce que ça fait.” (tell me, baby. tell me how it feels.)
“i need you” you whimper, your head tossing back.
“je sais que tu le fais. respire juste pour moi. concentre-toi juste sur ma main” (i know you do. just breathe for me. just focus on my hand) he whispers. he slides a finger under the lace of your underwear, finding your opening. he doesn't push in yet. he just circles the entrance, rubbing the sensitive hood of your clit with a slow agonizing precision. “does that feel good? tell me exactly where you want it.”
“right there ... please vivian, inside.”
“not yet. wait for it” he commands, his voice a gentle but firm authority. he continues to tease you, his finger flicking against your clit, creating a squelching sound as your natural lubrication coats his skin. “you're doing so well. such a good girl for me, staying so still.” the praise sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. you moan, your hips beginning to buck instinctively. vivian catches your hips, holding you firmly in place, forcing you to endure the anticipation.
“patience” he murmurs. then, he slides two fingers deep inside you in one smooth motion. you gasp, the sudden fullness stretching you, the air being pushed out of your pussy with a soft wet pop. he begins to move, his fingers curling upward, hitting that specific spot on your wall.
“there it is” he whispers, his eyes locked onto yours. “je te sens serrer autour de moi. tu adores quand je fais ça, n’est-ce pas ? dis-moi ce que tu ressens à l’intérieur.” (i can feel you clamping around me. you love it when i do that, don't you? tell me how it feels inside.)
“it's ... it's too much ... it feels good” you sob, your voice cracking.
“it's exactly where you need it” he says, his pace increasing. sound of shlicking fills the quiet room, the rhythmic, wet friction of his fingers sliding in and out of your tight heat. “focus on the feeling. just the feeling of me filling you up. you're so tight, so perfect.”
he withdraws his fingers suddenly, leaving you feeling empty and aching. before you can protest, he drops to his knees between your legs. he spreads you wide, his large hands gripping your thighs, pinning them back.
“vivian?”
“shh” he murmurs, glancing up at you with a look of pure hunger. “let me taste you.” he dives in. his tongue is long and warm, swirling around your clit with a devastating intensity. he laps at you, his tongue flicking rapidly, creating a loud messy squelching sound as he drinks you in. he uses his thumb to press deep into your entrance while his tongue continues to work, the dual stimulation sending you over the edge.
“mhm vivian! please!”
“take it” he mumbles, his voice muffled. “just let go for me. give it all to me.”
you scream, your body shaking. you feel the contractions of your walls pulsing against his tongue, the pleasure so intense it borders on pain. vivian doesn't stop. he continues to suck and lick, ensuring every last spark of pleasure is wrung out of you.
as the waves subside, he slowly rises, his face flushed and glistening. he doesn't move away. instead, he pulls you forward, wrapping his arms around you in a crushing hug, pulling your head into the crook of his neck. he smells of salt and skin and the deep, comforting scent of home.
“je t'aime” he whispers, his voice returning to that lazy, sleepy drawl but now it's laced with a tenderness he shows no one else. “i've got you.” you cling to him, your breathing slowly evening out, the silence of the room no longer feeling heavy but safe.
“you're a menace” you murmur, kissing his collarbone.
“your menace” he corrects, squeezing you tighter. “now, let's get you cleaned up before someone finds us in the media room.”
