#akina is also ew . and it's funny bc she literally never puts herself in situations like these ... but hsjskskskao karube is different

[wellfell]

 akina mori has always been more of a tornado than a woman , and it was awfully beautiful to be a woman . because women knew when to stop , women were wise , and tornadoes were mindless pieces of nature that didn't see where they were destroying as long as they were freely dancing around . akina was a tornado because sometimes she couldn't see beyond her and her lover's eyes , couldn't decide if she'd save the world or let it burn just so karube daikichi doesn't get cold again ; he wears ridiculously thin clothes , it's not fun having his hands feel like ice around her waist as the weather gets colder and it's incredibly difficult not to mother him . something flawlessly opposite of what she truly was and wanted to be .

 so a tornado doesn't understand games , it just gets what it wants even if it means leaving desolations behind .

 doesn't understand the tenderness of the little peck on her forehead because she was expecting to be devoured for looking that good with her sharp eyeliner on . she can't fathom why he keeps her untouched and smiles down at her like a lost deer . she likes keeping him on his toes , that's for sure but her oracle reading yesterday told her it'd be wiser to stop playing around and settle down — ‘ i'm not a wise girl , sorry ‘ i'm a mindless tornado . she watches him stretch , with eyes of a startled doe . lets him loosen his muscles before sitting up . only to crawl to him and harshly pin him to the bed .

 the action might suggest something inappropriate but she looks a little angry more than anything . the curve of her hips jut out slightly when she straddles his stomach and tightens her grip on his shirt with a glare . ❛ kiss me properly . ❜  the tip of her finger touches her own lips , taps on the plump lip with an expectant stare . but she doesn't want to let him do all the job , she's leaning forward to peck the corner of his lips . betrays her own request by teasing him , not quite kissing him . palms of her warm hands settle on his chest , toys with the soft cotton of his shirt while she enjoys her little game .

 of course she likes being dolled up , and she uses it against the men with smaller brains and bigger eyes . karube has never been one of them , he does have greedy and big eyes but he also thinks of the consequences of his greed if he gives in to it . she's tempted to remind him just how greedy his eyes ( and hands and tongue and mouth - ) was last night , but instead she pulls away from him . changed her mind , kissing her properly ; it might and it will lead to worse things that'll confuse the friends who are trying to reach them . her phone buzzes and she crawls to the sheets , off of him , weight lifting from his stomach . a feminine voice comes from the other line , familiar , making her gaze fix on karube as she speaks up softly ;

 ❛ emi . . . how are you ? i'm - ❜  she feels disgusting , she doesn't look like she does , but it's making her skin crawl . ❛ no . i don't know where he is . ❜

@wellfell | continued

Karube Daikichi, turns out, possesses no common sense.

All he's ever done for most of his relatively short life is pretend he does. And sometimes he doesn't even have to lie to throw it on, like a worn t-shirt he only pulls out to do the dirty work for someone else.

Being sensible, rational, responsible, he's not the oldest of his friend group - he's not even the oldest in this room right now, and their society demands some sort of s o m e t h i n g from their age difference, but Karube sits back and Akina growls and who could possible deter them from being whatever they are, right here, right now - but he sure acts like it sometimes, perennial older brother, perennial babysitter, perennial boyfriend.

Cigarette in hand, sharp wit hidden under his tongue, and a tight grip on someone's metaphorical shoulders when they need him to give again.

He acts mature.

He is, maybe.

But turns out, he has no common sense.

A man with common sense would have shied away from Akina's mewling as much as her hissing should have scared him off, the gentle tease of her claws and the tender feeling of her fingerpads. Soft and rough around the edges, Akina always played both sides of her own coin masterfully well, he could never guess if he was the lion or the lion tamer.

Meet her when she's not out to be nice and her smiles are about as pretty as a poisonous flower - just as enticing for the bug he is, as well.

Meet her like this, and suddenly she's as soft as her skin when he'd stopped to marvel at it, when his calloused fingertips had met it with the kind of tenderness he hides behind his sideways smiles and vulgar utterances of philosophies people smarter than him don't buy because smarter usually means better at winning in a world such as theirs.

The stupid kids are usually the ones who know it better, but only perhaps because Karube wrongly counts himself among them, the way too many abandoned by their world do.

He doesn't even wince, not really. The press of her nail in his thigh is more grounding than it is bothersome, enough to work as intended and drag his gaze off the emptiness of the air, refocus it on the world of Akina that breathes in it.

She's already perfectly dolled up. Karube should note down asking, perhaps one day, if she likes it or if she uses it only. He wonders if 'both' is what he'll get.

He watches the red of her lips and wants to chew it off.

Karube sighs. He grabs Akina's hand, moves it off his thigh to give himself enough space to shift and slip until he's seated next to her. It's a good angle to potentially find something, anything she'd use to wipe her face to kill the glow of his cigarette in. It's an even better angle to lean back, mimic her, put his weight into the elbow he shoves into the mattress - keep the glowing fingers far away from her face - and lean down.

He steals a kiss.

Slow, warning, just enough space, enough room to be pushed away.

A kiss to her forehead. Because Karube plays mean by being the opposite of what people expect him to be.

When he pulls back, it's to grin down at her.

"I like to keep you on your toes," he straightens his back with a strained sigh, half a stretch, even. "Don't deny you like to do the same."