#lifesaving course

[felixswimschools]

Phone: (647) 705-5250

Address: 64 Baldwin St, Toronto, ON M5T 1L4 Email: downtown@felixswimschools.com

Felix's Swim School Downtown Toronto with 40 Years of Experience! Swim School offers small class sizes/individualized approach, focus on quick progression, & clean modern facilities. Our goal is to instill a life-long relationship with the water by providing high quality, developmentally sound swimming instruction in a fun, safe environment while emphasizing outstanding customer service.

[mintjeru]

hop'n step'n may i have this dance / this is the world's end. shall we do the "one-two"?

open for better quality | no reposts

[birdsong-warriors]

TFW you work on one section of inks and zoom out to see the rest of them got wiped somewhere somehow (probably because you leaned on CTRL + X at some point) so you have to dig through the previous copies to try and find them again because you don't have the sanity to ink it again.

[thekenobee]

Hello my deer <3

I'm coming up blank on good distracting activities but I would like to offer you my current favourite comfort reads... I know you enjoy Britishness and the peculiar idiosyncrasies therein... And these are very British, and very cosy and very wonderful.

You can find PDFs here free https://f.feedvu.com/author/diana-wynne-jones/ There also lovely audiobooks, which are slowly uploading to my google drive but some of which can be found on youtube

I heartily recommend the Chrestomanci series, starting with either Charmed Life or The Lives of Christopher Chant. (Charmed Life was written first but The Lives of Christopher Chant is set earlier so you can go either way.) Alternatively Howl's Moving Castle, on which the Studio Ghibli film is based, has wonderful Welshness in it. The Welshness didn't make it into the film which is a terrible shame but I also can see why they made that choice for an international audience...

Going for a walk with a Chrestomanci audiobook is a good way to escape from life for a little while.

Sales pitch over I hope you find a way through the next couple of days with the least pain possible <3

Deerest,

I’m so so sorry about not answering this lovely ask at the time- the longer I waited, the more awful I felt*hides in the bushes* just wanted to thank you so much for the recommendations and sources, I will start listening them today because I am in rather dire need of them.

I have only seen bits of the Howl’s Moving Castle and I didn’t spot the Welshness at the time (posh Welsh, they sound like us!) but now I’ll properly appreciate it!

<3<3<3

[ghostbustermelanieking]

starting to see a theme in these near death dreams

[the-alan-price-combo]

June 20th, 1973... the release of O Lucky Man!, and its accompanying album, written by Alan Price!! ❤️🎹🎶 Today is its 50th anniversary!!

[orca-iguana]

X3 Lol

[anistarrose]

Please don't tune out when you get to the non-partisan section of your ballot this November. First off, where state Supreme Court justices are elected, Republicans are trying their darndest to elect candidates who will destroy reproductive freedom, gut voting rights, and do everything in their power to give "contested" elections to Republicans. Contrast Wisconsin electing a justice in 2023 who helped rule two partisan gerrymanders unconstitutional, versus North Carolina electing a conservative majority in 2022, who upheld a racist voter ID law and a partisan gerrymander that liberal justices had previously struck down both of.

Second, local judicial offices will make infinitely more of an impact on your community than a divided state or federal legislature will. District and circuit courts, especially, are where criminalization of homelessness and poverty play out, and where electing a progressive judge with a commitment to criminal justice reform can make an immediate difference in people's lives.

It's a premier example of buying people time, and doing profound-short-term good, while we work to eventually change the system. You might not think there will be any such progressive justices running in your district, but you won't know unless you do your research. (More on "research" in a moment.)

The candidates you elect to your non-partisan city council will determine whether those laws criminalizing homelessness get passed, how many blank checks the police get to surveil and oppress, and whether lifesaving harm reduction programs, like needle exchanges and even fentanyl test strips, are legal in your municipality. Your non-partisan school board might need your vote to fend off Moms for Liberty candidates and their ilk, who want to ban every book with a queer person or acknowledgement of racism in it.

Of course, this begs the question — if these candidates are non-partisan, and often hyper-local, then how do I research them? There's so much less information and press about them, so how do I make an informed decision?

I'm not an expert, myself. But I do think/hope I have enough tips to consist of a useful conclusion to this post:

Plan ahead. If you vote in person, figure out what's on your ballot before you show up and get jumpscared by names you don't know. Find out what's on your ballot beforehand, and bring notes with you when you vote. Your city website should have a sample ballot, and if they drop the ball, go to Ballotpedia.

Ballotpedia in general, speaking of which. Candidates often answer Ballotpedia's interviews, and if you're lucky, you'll also get all the dirt on who's donating to their campaign.

Check endorsements. Usually candidates are very vocal about these on their websites. If local/state progressive leaders and a couple unions (not counting police unions lol) are endorsing a candidate, then that's not the end of my personal research process per se, but it usually speeds things up.

Check the back of the ballot. That's where non-partisan races usually bleed over to. This is the other reason why notes are helpful, because they can confirm you're not missing anything.

I've seen some misconceptions in the reblogs, so an addendum to my point about bringing notes on the candidates: I strongly suggest making those notes a physical list that you bring polling place with you. Many states do allow phones at the polling place, but several states explicitly don't — Nevada, Maryland, and Texas all ban phones, and that may not be an exhaustive list. There may also be states that allow individual city clerks to set policies.

You should also pause and think before you take a photo of your ballot, because even some states that don't ban phones still ban ballot photographs. But whether it's a photo, or just having your phone in general — in an environment as high-risk for voter suppression as the current one, you don't want even a little bit of ambiguity about your conduct. Physical notes are your friends.

[wallabywannabe]

I followed my vet's advice to a T and absolutely zero results. So then I followed a hunch of my own and...voila!

So I love my vet and she's the only reason I would hesitate to move too far away. I went through a lot of vets to find her when I was having trouble with my first cat.

I've grown and learned a lot and will always be learning more. I know anecdotal evidence is not great. I KNOW this. But the problem is there often isn't much else to go off of! And nutrition is especially lacking in veterinary medicine. All of the research is pretty much in the hands of the big pet food companies. Which is obviously suspect.

I have also learned that human doctors don't do a lot of nutrition schooling, which I believe carries over to how veterinary schools work. But at least there are human nutritionists that can fill that gap a little bit. That's not common for veterinary medicine.

Anyway, I refuse to believe feeding corn/wheat/soy/legumes/plant starches in high proportions can be good for obligate carnivores like cats. Zoologists and wildlife experts try to fit diet for captive animals in their care as close to what they would eat in the wild as possible. Why would it be different for domestic animals? Their brains are a little different from their wild ancestors which makes them domesticated, but their digestive systems have not experienced consistent evolutionary pressure for long enough to cause big changes there.

What Hills and Purina recipe formulators and scientists do is start with a cheap base of calories (corn, soy, or wheat) and add in supplements till it meets the basic nutritional needs for a cat to not develop short term problems (for a couple years). Long term problems do develop, because animals get sick. (But also I suspect that they get sick more often than they would because of the diet.) And they take their base formula and see if they can tweak things like pH and concentrations of vitamins and minerals to conteract a specific illness until they get results. It works for some diseases, so those they make food for and market it to vets. It goes through research and trials and results are measurable, so they're convincing and scientific! And they can sell them as a prescription diet at a huge markup.

But they don't do any research to see if feeding a more biologically appropriate ingredient profile would have even better results, or not lead to the problems in the first place. And they don't check long term to see if their tweaked prescription diet might cause other long-term problems down the line.

For example, I have never heard of a cat who has only ever been fed wet food and/or properly hydrated raw food who ended up with urinary crystals. It's very common in cats that eat dry kibble, though (but don't worry! Hills has several prescription diets for that!).

Anyway, I largely operate off the idea that I should feed wet and get as close to a carnviorous diet as possible with my cats. Not easy to avoid all problematic ingredients in commercial foods, but I don't feel confident enough that I have the time and energy to make my own at this point.

Petra started having loose stool about 8 months ago. No other symptoms. Vet went through the checklist with bloodwork and a detailed ultrasound, leading to a diagnosis of simple colitis. Vet told me I could keep feeding her normal food, but I just had to add a probiotic in the morning and beer root fiber powder in the evening.

Now, I already give a probiotic that I've had great results with. It completely cured my first cat's constipation, and I have noticed that if I don't give it, my otherwise healthy current cat Purrcy seems to get a little constipated. My theory, and this I admit could have no merit because it's just an idea I can't prove, is that wild cats eat the intestines of their prey and get a dose of naturally occurring probiotics every meal that way, so maybe their intestines aren't built to maintain a healthy microbiome without redosing every meal.

So I give my cats probiotics. I worked for a bit in microbiome research, so I know enough to know that we really don't understand why probiotics work or what certain strains are doing exactly, but we know from trial and error that there are benefits. I started with an expensive pet probiotic with several strains and good reviews, which worked. I eventually switched to a human brand with a few strains that have good general reputations, high CFU count, and good reviews. That worked just as well.

My vet gave me a Purina brand probiotic to use instead. She said try it and see, and if I didn't see results I could go back. This prescription (expensive) Purina probiotic only has 1 strain that I hadn't been using, but I didn't do any research on it so I don't know much about it. I was going to follow her instructions exactly, though, to see if there was anything to it.

So I gave the new probiotic and the fiber in my cat's food, slowly increasing the amount of fiber as directed. I reached the full dose she initially recommended, but she said I could do more, so when I saw no improvement, I eventually went up to double that.

6 weeks of no improvement. Her stool might even have gotten more watery. And on top of that, Petra had stopped eating as much of her food, either because she could taste the fiber at that dose or it was making her feel too full.

I was willing to try the plant fiber additive. Sometimes when you have an illness you need an atypical diet. That happens. But after it didn't work, I decided to try something else.

In the past I tried a lot of different foods with my constipation-prone cats. Most raw foods I couldn't feed 100% of the time, because they tend to have a rather high bone content, since they grind the meat whole with the bone in. Too high and it would make constipation worse. (There was ONE brand that substituted bone with eggshells as a calcium source and it was amazing until the FDA shut it down after testing a sample that had been in a hot car all day. I'll never forgive that. RIP Radcat!)

But, maybe bone was what I needed to firm up my cat's stool and get her colon back on track, since fiber wasn't doing it.

So I got a couple types of commercial raw. One brand Petra loved immediately. It's been 2 days and already her stool has form to it again!

I'll have to monitor for constipation in the other cat, since trying to separate their food seems to give them a whole new anxiety disorder. Maybe I'll have to tinker a ratio of wet and raw. But I think I'm finally on the right track!

I'm going to tell my vet what I discovered and I'm sure she'll be fine. Like I said, I think she's great! But there are still a lot of unknowns in veterinary medicine.

I don't think there's any magical property about raw food that makes it better than canned or kibble. (I do think there are a lot of dental benefits to feeding whole prey raw or pieces of raw meat/bones, but that's a whole other post). The commercial raw food I buy has been pasteurized, so does it really even count as "raw" still? But what's important is these raw foods tend to have species-appropriate ingredients, and this isn't the first time I've seen that kind of diet make a difference.

[utsaahpsychologyclinic]

"It's your outlook on life that counts. If you take yourself lightly and don't take yourself too seriously, pretty soon you can find the humour in our everyday lives. And sometimes it can be a lifesaver."

[manjiroscum]

LITTLE DARK AGE

haitani ran x fem!reader x haitani rindou

summary: eight years later, you finally return to tokyo and find yourself caught in the middle of a violent gang war between the two most ruthless criminal organizations of tokyo’s underworld, forced to choose between blood and love.

genre: bonten timeskip, angst, forbidden romance, childhood friends -> strangers -> lovers, 18+ MDNI

warnings: fem!reader, gang violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, explicit smut, polyamory, profanity, MCD, unedited, MTBA

previous chapter -> masterlist -> next chapter

CHAPTER ⅩⅢ. AND WHEN THE SEASONS CHANGE, WILL YOU STAND BY ME?

TEN YEARS EARLIER. 

There was something wrong with you. 

Both of them knew it. Something had changed in you after that day at the delinquent center. Something had changed in all of them, really, losing Izana was just a blow that none of them were prepared to take. But Rindou had prayed, he had prayed and prayed and prayed that the change was temporary, that everyone would bounce back. 

And most of them did, to some extent. 

Except you.

He should have known better. He really should have. You might not have known Izana as long as the rest of them had but the two of you had clicked in a way that Rindou had never really seen you click with anyone before. Not even them. All those days and nights spent in the music room, the way the two of you would bounce ideas off of each other all the time, planning out your future, their future…

You had never dealt with loss well. He had known that since you were kids, when they had met you a little while after your family had been killed in an accident. You had always tried your best to pretend that you were fine but they knew you weren’t. Just like they knew now, even if you wouldn’t admit it. 

And Rindou was worried. He was so fucking worried and he did not know what to do. This wasn’t like the last time you had distanced yourself from them, when you had gotten aggressive, and angry, and upset. This time was different. Because you weren’t aggressive, or angry, and you didn’t even seem to be upset even though Rindou knew you well enough to know that you were. 

You were cold. Aloof. While last time you would have started yelling at them for bothering you and constantly trying to convince you to do things with them, this time you just brushed them off--you were tired, you were busy with meetings, you needed to eat, you had to talk to your uncle about plans for the future. 

Rindou couldn’t remember the last time you had hung out with them. He missed the late night movies, he missed waking up Ran with you and forcing him to join the two of you, he missed  you. 

He didn’t want to linger on the thought, instead shaking his head and tilting his head up, letting his gaze drift up to the sky above Izanagi Headquarters. 

It was going to start raining, it was dark, and the clouds were moving fast--too fast. Rindou let out a breath as he looked back over at Ran, who was still sitting back on his bike, hands pressed against the seat as he stared up at the building you were in.

They had come to try to talk to you--knowing that once you got back home you’d lock yourself in your room and either work on some more stuff for your uncle or pass right out and they’d lose their chance. 

Rindou opened his mouth, preparing to tell Ran that they should head home unless they wanna get caught in the rain. 

He didn’t get the chance. 

“You should go in there,” Ran’s voice was quiet. There was a tone that Rindou couldn’t quite decipher. Rindou looked over his shoulder, lips turned down and hair falling in his face as he eyed Ran. Ran did not meet his eyes. “She needs you, Rindou. I don’t know why she’s pushing us away like this but I-we can’t just let her do this to herself.”

“She needs both of us, Ran, that’s why we’re here,” Rindou’s voice was dismissive. He didn’t understand what Ran was trying to get at, and he didn’t understand why Ran wouldn’t meet his eyes. Obviously you needed them, that was why they were camped out across the street from Izanagi’s godforsaken headquarters. 

“Ran,” Rindou called for his brother again. Ran ignored him, again, only staring up to the top of Izanagi headquarters, lips tugged down into a slight frown, a strange look in his eyes, “She needs both of us.”

“Not in the same way.”

Rindou fully turned around, head snapping toward Ran, eyes wide, confusion brewing in his stomach as he mulled over what Ran had said.

Not in the same way?

“The fuck does that mean?” Rindou demanded. Ran looked away. “Hey, I asked you a question.”

Ran did not answer.

But he didn’t need to. Because Rindou knew exactly what he meant, and he did not know how to take it. 

Unconsciously, he looked back toward the building that he knew you were in, a tight feeling in his chest. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about it before. Rindou let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding shut for just a second. God, he had thought about it so much. Ever since you guys were younger--since that night at the Sugawara estate, really--all the nights that he had spent up with you, watching those dumb horror movies you loved that he hated, he always imagined how you would feel whenever you were curled up at his side, body pressed against his, the number of times he had debated on reaching out, pressing his lips to yours, it was uncountable really; and all the days he would spend wandering around Roppongi with you, unable to draw his eyes from your bright smile and lit up eyes, he imagined what it would be like taking you out on dates instead of just going out as friends, holding your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours.

“You know what it means,” Ran said, and Rindou forced himself to open his eyes and look back at Ran, lips parting to speak but he hesitated when he caught sight of Ran’s face. There was an expression on it that Rindou had never seen before--one that Ran was clearly trying to hide from his brother but hiding stuff from Rindou was nearly impossible. They knew each other too well for that. 

Lips pressed tight and the corners drawn downwards, eyebrows lowered, eyes dull. 

… He didn’t want this. 

Or maybe he did on the surface, but deep down he did not. Rindou’s chest felt tight, he tried to push away the sick feeling that rose to his stomach, the tight feeling in his chest, so he could figure out why Ran didn’t want it, and why he was claiming he did. 

Oh, his breath shook, he tried to steady it. 

There was only one reason why Ran wouldn’t want him to be with you. 

“I’m not doing that,” Rindou finally said, and he hated how his voice cracked, and he hated how much it hurt him to voice aloud. Ran’s gaze was dark as it shifted back onto him, angry. “I’m not, Ran.”

“Why the fuck not?” Ran demanded, and there was an edge to his voice that Rindou really didn’t like, one that promised violence. This was going to end in an argument, “You love her, don’t you?” 

“So do you,” the words were bitter on Rindou’s tongue, speaking them outloud made him nauseous. Ran physically flinched at his words, drawing back, downturned eyes now wide and surprised. Rindou felt ill, taking his reaction as confirmation. 

“What?” Ran asked, voice breathless. 

“So do you,” Rindou repeated, voice steadier, more assured. “You love her too, don’t you?”

“No,” Ran said immediately, lying, and the rage hit Rindou so suddenly that he had a hard time controlling it. He was off of his bike in an instant, moving closer to Ran, blood running hot, skin burning.

“Why the fuck are you lying to me?” Rindou barely stopped himself from yelling at Ran, reaching out sharply to grab his collar. Anger flashed through Ran’s eyes, a type of anger that Rindou hadn’t seen in his eyes in years.

“‘Cause it’s not fucking true,” Ran knocked Rindou’s hand off of his collar, eyes dark and Rindou’s blood boiled. He reached forward again, this time with two hands, grabbing Ran’s collar again and shaking him. 

“I thought we didn’t lie to each other, Ran, what the fuck?” Rindou’s voice choked, his vision blurred. Frustration hit him so hard it had him dizzy. You were cold and distant, Ran was lying to him, and Rindou didn’t know what to do anymore.

He wanted you, god he had wanted you since you were kids. But there was no way, there was no fucking way he could do that to Ran. He knew how much it took for Ran to open up to people, how hard and how intensely he loved--he couldn’t just…

Ran pushed him away, harder this time. Rindou grunted when his back hit the wall of the building next to them, his gaze snapped up, meeting Ran’s. “Shut the fuck up, Rindou,” Ran spat out, tone vile and venomous. Rindou nearly flinched, Ran had never taken that tone with him before. “Shut the fuck up and go to her.”

“I’m not doing that,” Rindou said, “I’m not fucking doing that, Ran.”

“Why not?” Ran hissed, “She fucking needs you, Rindou. All this time I’ve-”

The anger hit a peak, Rindou shoved Ran right back, forcing him to stumble back into his bike. Rindou’s hands were clenched tight at his sides, shaking. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and he couldn’t tell if he was angry or disappointed or upset--maybe both, really. Angry at Ran for lying, for trying to push him into a relationship with you when he knew that he loved you too; disappointed at himself, for having fallen so easily for you and not having even realized that Ran felt the same way about you, for being so obvious in how he felt; and upset because he knew all of those things he had dreamed of with you would never happen because he could never do that to Ran.

“I’m not going to get with the girl you love,” Rindou shouted, “It doesn’t matter how much I love her too. You’re my fucking brother, Ran.”

And Rindou wondered just how stupid he was over the past few years. He thought back to all of the times he had seen Ran act around you--the stolen glances and small smiles when he thought no one was looking, the way he was always looking out for you and making sure you were okay. Rindou had never realized Ran’s feelings had run as deep as they had, but how hadn’t he?

It had been fucking obvious.

It had been so fucking obvious. 

All those times over the years when Ran had pushed Rindou toward you, putting you in situations that would bring the two of you closer together, pushing aside his own feelings because he knew that Rindou loved you. He felt sick to his stomach.

Rindou shut his eyes, taking a step back from Ran, “Ran, I can’t do that,” he shook his head, “I can’t do that.”

Ran straightened, pushing off from where he had stumbled back against his bike. He shot Rindou a livid glare, brushing off his clothes.

“Yes, you-”

Ran’s voice faltered, his gaze drifting off somewhere behind Rindou, a strange expression crossing his face. Rindou turned, following where he was looking, and his mouth dried when he caught sight of you exiting the Izanagi building, dressed nice in the outfit you had left the penthouse in at the crack of dawn this morning. You were talking to your uncle, walking toward an expensive car waiting at the front of the building. 

Rindou took a step toward you.  

He hesitated when you looked up from your uncle, eyes focusing in on where and Ran were waiting across the street by their bikes. Your name was on the tip of his tongue, he was ready to call out for you, to tell you to come over to him.

But you looked away. 

Rindou’s throat felt tight as you took one look at them, recognized them, only to return to conversation with your uncle, getting into the car with him without hesitation. 

Oh.

It stung. It stung bad. He remembered the days where you would flee school early, running to them giggling and excited, when they showed up at your classroom to pick you up before they got their tattoo, how your gaze had always been bright and thrilled to see them. He could practically picture the way you would raise your arms, waving to them before you would recklessly sprint across the street toward them, nearly giving both of them a heart attack..

But the car door only shut behind you, and even though the streets were loud and bustling with people, everything around him sounded far away and muted. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sleek black car as it pulled down the street, not until it was completely out of view.

His chest squeezed as he looked back at Ran, catching the hurt expression that flashed across his face as his eyes focused down the street where the car had disappeared to, all of the fight drained out of him as he let his gaze drop down to the ground, a sinking feeling rising through him that it wouldn’t quite matter what either of them had wanted.

--

NINE YEARS EARLIER. 

Mucho had been next. 

You felt numb as you walked ahead toward the warehouse that Mister Ayato and Mister Mado found out Ran and Rindou were at. 

The sky was dark, gloomy--there had been no predictions of rain when you last checked the weather station but it really would be just your luck for it to start downpouring now. 

You should be angry. You weren’t sure why you weren’t--you had told them over and over and over again to be back home by five at the latest. Now it was six, and you were going to be late to Mister Botan’s funeral. 

Mucho had been next, and after Mucho, it was nearly Terano Minami—the leader of Rokuhara Tandai, the next gang that Ran and Rindou had decided to join under. And while there was no love lost between you and Terano, your first impressions of one another having been less than ideal, you couldn’t help the guilt that crept in you, festering once you had learned what had happened.

Was this your fault too? 

You tried to atone for it. You did. You got Terano the best doctors Japan had to offer, the nicest hospitals, the most expensive treatments. But it wasn’t enough. They didn’t know when he would wake up, if he would wake up, even. And all you could do was wait. Wait for news, wait to find out if another person died because of you.

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

You were tired of waiting. All you did your whole entire life was wait--wait for your uncle, wait for yourself, waiting for this curse to finally devour everyone you had loved. 

Because you were certain of it at this point. The curse was real and it was only a matter of time before it took Rindou and Ran from you too.

You walked into the warehouse, ignoring the leers tossed your way by the unfamiliar men littered around the area. Your lip curled up in disgust as a particularly loud comment met your ears but you forced yourself to not acknowledge it--acknowledging it would only make them throw even more at you. 

You didn’t really know where you were--well you did, this was apparently the base for the Kanto Manji Gang, the gang that Rindou and Ran and the rest of their friends were absorbed into after Terano had been beaten to the brink of death by its leader. But you had never been here before, you only knew this from the little information that Mister Mado and Mister Ayato had found out when you had mentioned the predicament to them. You had no idea what the layout of the base looked like, and you had no idea where Rindou and Ran were. 

And you did not like the looks that kept getting thrown your way, and you liked even less the way that some of the men kept creeping closer. 

Discomfort brewed in your chest but you forced yourself to keep walking, keeping your chin up and your back straight.

Your gaze darted around as you entered a larger room, and relief hit you like a truck when you caught sight of four familiar figures lounged in the corner of the room. You beelined straight toward them, irritation fizzing in your chest when you noticed they weren’t doing anything important to excuse their lateness. But you couldn’t hold it--the irritation fizzled as quickly as it came. 

You paused several feet away from them, none of them noticed your presence and your eyes focused on Rindou and Ran. Your chest felt tight when you noticed the easy smile on Ran’s face as he leaned back against the wall, talking to Mochi and a scarred man you didn’t recognize, when you noticed how Rindou was relaxed on the ground, shooting jabs back and forth with Shion. 

Izana and Mucho were not there. You could almost imagine Izana lounging on a nearby crate, chin propped on his hand as he watched over them. You could see Mucho standing next to Mochi, half-amused and half-annoyed as Rindou and Shion’s jabs grew more intense. 

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

Once again, resentment and fear stirred in you but you pushed it back down, smothering it.

“You should be home,” your voice came out duller than you intended for it to. You stared ahead, down at Rindou and Ran, watching as their heads snapped toward you, eyes wide and expressions pale. “We are going to be late for the funeral.”

“It’s time already?” Rindou was pushing himself to his feet immediately, sharing a look with Ran.

“How’d you get here?” Ran asked at the same time.

“It is well past time,” you said in response, ignoring Ran’s question, “and you can’t attend the funeral in… that.”

You eyed the dark uniform adorning their bodies, shaking your head. You turned on your heel and started back the way you had come from, eyes catching a figure standing at the opposite side of the wrong--blonde hair, empty dark eyes trained on you. 

He was familiar, you couldn’t quite place from where though. You didn’t pay mind to it for too long, instead only continuing on.

You were being cold to them, you had been over a year now. You knew it, and you felt guilty. So fucking guilty. You wanted to apologize, and tell them you missed them. It had been so fucking long since you did anything with them--more focused on learning from your uncle and the other Izanagi executives so you could learn the steps to start your own corporation. 

You were doing what was best, you reminded yourself--the mantra you had begun to chant whenever doubt began to cloud your mind. Once you got your own company up and running, once you had the power you needed to keep them safe--from enemies, rivals, even that god forsaken curse--you would go to them, you would apologize and tell them everything, beg them to forgive you. 

But until then, you had to keep your head on straight.

You heard Rindou and Ran call after you but ignored them, keeping your gaze trained ahead as you made your way out of the larger room and down the hall. Mister Ayato and Mister Mado were waiting in the car outside, dressed and ready to go to the funeral, you knew they were unhappy with Rindou and Ran but you had asked them to not start an argument over it--not yet, at least--and you hoped that they would keep to their word.

You were sure Rindou and Ran felt bad about losing track of time--and you knew you should be angry at them too, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to be. Maybe it was just the numbness of another loss, or maybe it was something else but-

A hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You paused, turning to look at the offender over your shoulder--Rindou’s hand dropped from your wrist as soon as your eyes met his, you raised your brows.

“We don’t really have time to spare,” you told him, “What is it?”

You didn’t mean for your voice to come out as sharply as it did, really, but anger flashed across Ran’s face behind Rindou, anger that he only just barely managed to push aside as he forced himself to look away. Rindou didn’t say anything, so you only waited a moment before letting out a sigh and turning back around, continuing back toward the car. 

Your family. Izana. Mucho. Nearly Terano. Now Mister Botan. 

Seven people, six untimely deaths, and one brush with death.

Who would be eighth?

Miss Yua or Mister Ayato? Mister Mado?

Shion or Mochi?

Your uncle?

Ran or Rindou?

You felt sick to your stomach, your body felt chilled over, as if you had just walked out of a freezer, your head felt dizzy. Calm down, you told yourself, now’s not the time. 

You could picture your mom’s excited smile as the four of you drove to your recital, your sister happily telling you about her day at school, your father squeezing your shoulder and telling you he was proud of you. You could see Izana sitting with you on the piano bench, humming along a tune as he strummed the strings of his guitar. You could see Mucho standing with Miss Yua, trying to learn how to cook from her, bringing you and Izana some bento he had tried to put together. You could see Mister Botan’s smiling face as you returned back to the penthouse after school, asking you how your presentation went today, and you could see him ushering you inside, grabbing you both some treats as he sat you down in the lobby and listened as you rambled on about your topic.

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

Behind you, Rindou and Ran were talking but you couldn’t even make sense of what they were saying. It sounded like they were underwater, or you were, you couldn’t tell. Your vision swam as you continued walking forward, and you could feel how stiff your body was with each step. 

The words rang through your head over and over again. 

Maybe it would be best if you were gone. 

Your eyes drifted back to Rindou and Ran, where they were talking quietly to each other, sparing brief glances at you before returning to whispering to each other. The guilt hit you again, harder this time, debilitating. 

You loved them.

A part of you had always known it, since you were kids but you had only recently come to terms with it—when faced with an ultimatum from your uncle: head to a prestigious foreign university and jumpstart the process to forming your own company or wait to inherit Izanagi from him. The choice should have been obvious, there shouldn’t have been any debate… but it wasn’t obvious and there was debate. 

Because you would have to leave them, and you didn’t know how long you would be, and they wouldn’t be able to join you, and you didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it. Every time you thought of the years you would spend apart—all of the memories you would make without them, all of the space that would grow between you—it made you sick to your stomach, to the point where you were keeling over in your room and dry-heaving, trying to mask your sobs and heaves by turning up the television so they didn’t hear you.

You didn’t want to do it if it would cost you the only two people you had ever loved but-

Your family. Izana. Mucho. Nearly Terano. Mister Botan.

What if being here costed you them anyway? Except in a far more permanent way. 

Maybe you were better off gone.

Tragedy follows you and it was only a matter of time before it took everybody else. It was only a matter of time before you were alone.

You slipped into the backseat of the car, resting your forehead against the window letting your eyes slide shut. You would lose everyone, you knew it. You could feel it deep in your bones.

… unless you left first, that is. 

---

PRESENT.

“What the fuck did you do?” 

Rindou’s ears were ringing as he stared off to where you disappeared to, doors shutting loud, damning. He could barely breathe, his hands shook as he held Ran in place. 

“Rindou, what the fuck did you do?” Ran roared, “What the fuck did you do? Why the fuck would you do that? I thought you fucking loved her, I thought you loved her.”

Rindou grimaced as Ran’s elbow drove deep into his side but Rindou was certain that it was his words that had knocked the wind out of him, not the blow. I do love her, Rindou wanted to scream at him but he couldn’t form the words. His body seized at the harsh blow delivered to his gut. His grip faltered around Ran, giving him the chance to push off the ground and stumble toward the door. 

What did he do?

He stared ahead for a moment, not moving, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. 

He let you go. 

He let you go. 

Rindou’s body moved on his own as he threw himself forward, hand wrapping around Ran’s wrist as he yanked his brother back toward him before he could try to push the doors to the locker room open. 

He felt numb, his body felt cold.

He let you go. 

Ran thrashed against him, trying to push Rindou off of him, but he was weak, and was getting weaker with each passing second. He was stressing out his wounds, straining his body, and Rindou opened his mouth to tell him to stop but no words left his mouth. 

He let you go. 

“Let go of me,” Ran demanded and Rindou held him tighter, his heart felt like it was in his throat, tears stung his eyes. He could barely breathe, he couldn’t open his mouth to tell Ran no, he felt sick to his stomach. “Let fucking go of me, Rindou, you let her go, what the fuck is the difference? Let me go too.”

He let you go. 

He did the right thing, didn’t he?

Doubt clouded his mind, he forced himself to repeat the words over and over and over again. He did the right thing--you knew what you were doing, and Ran wasn’t in any kind of fighting state. There was one gun, not enough bullets, if he had done as Ran said, if he had forced you to stay, they would have been gunned down, no question about it.

At least this way they had a chance. This way Ran had a chance.

But he let you throw yourself to the fucking wolves for it.

Was it worth it?

He felt as if the weight of the world had dropped onto his shoulders, he thought back to all those myths that you and Izana had been so interested in, and he wondered if this was how Atlas felt when he had to bear the weight of the sky. 

He let you go. Was it worth it? 

Was it worth it? 

Ran would have died if he didn’t, it shouldn’t even be a question. Of course, he did the right thing, why was he even questioning it like this? Ran had always put him and his safety first, Rindou had to do the same.

But at what cost? Sacrificing you? The woman he loved? … the woman his brother loved?

Bile rose to his throat, he took another elbow to the gut from Ran--this time, he didn’t let go. 

“Stop,” he tried to tell Ran, voice raspy and pain shooting up through his body, “Ran, stop.”

“Fuck you, Rindou,” Ran’s voice was shriller than he had ever heard it before, his eyes were wild. Rindou opened his mouth to tell him to stop but his eyes widened as Ran seemed to gain a sudden boost of energy, pushing Rindou away hard and sending him crashing back into one of the benches.

Rindou let out a string of vile curses, the pain of the metal digging deep into his side making his vision flash white. He forced himself back to his feet, preparing to drag Ran back down to the ground but he paused when he realized Ran hadn’t made any move toward the door.

His face was pale and his shoulders were slumped, he stared at the door with a sort of expression that had Rindou’s throat closing up with guilt. 

“This is all my fucking fault,” Ran breathed out and Rindou shook his head, moving closer to him. He put his hand on Ran’s shoulder but Ran shrugged it off, looking away.

“Ran, it’s not-”

“I left the auction, Rindou,” Ran said, “I left the auction and put myself in the position to get caught. Which made her have to make the decision that led to me getting my ass beat. Which led to her breaking me out, which led to this. If I had just stayed in the fuckin’ auction hall like Kakucho said, we would not be in this position.”

“That’s not-”

“Fuck off, Rindou,” but there was no heat behind Ran’s voice this time and Rindou couldn’t look at his brother’s face anymore, he couldn’t stand the broken expression on his face, and he couldn’t stand the heavy feeling that kept pulling at his stomach. 

He looked down at the ground, fists tight at his sides. You were talking to them on the opposite side of the door but he couldn’t make out what exactly you were saying. He should have faith--you always managed to talk your way out of situations. If Rindou had to bet, he would say it’s one of the things you were best at.

You would be fine. They would be fine. 

He made the right choice by letting you go. 

But Rindou couldn’t help the strange feeling that began to pass over him as he lifted his gaze back up.

His hair stood on end, the entire world around him tunneled as he stared at the doors to the locker room--something bad was about to happen, he realized, letting go of Ran’s shoulder and taking a step toward the door just as the deafening bang of a gunshot resounded through the air around them.

--

There were a lot of them. Too many of them. You couldn’t help the anxiety that started to pool in your gut, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes unconsciously started to dart around, searching for any possible escape routes. There weren’t any but you knew it wouldn’t have mattered even if there were one. 

You couldn’t leave them here. 

You kept your shoulders square as you raised your chin, eyes steady on the man at the front of the group. You did not recognize him. Tall, light hair and lighter eyes. He looked foreign. His gaze was cold, his smile was mocking.

You hated him. 

You glanced back once, taking one look at the double doors of the locker room and after a second of hesitation, you moved, leaning down to pick up one of the weighted bars for lifting. Gritting your teeth as you bring it up to slide it between the handles, making sure that the door stayed shut and wasn’t able to be opened from the inside. The last thing you needed was for them to come out here and get themselves killed while you were talking. 

You stared at the door for a moment, shutting your eyes as you pictured them behind it, and briefly, you wondered if that had been the last time you’d ever see them. You felt sick, and your hands shook before you forced them to stop, turning around, lips twisted down, eyes dark. 

“If Sugawara wants Izanami, then they get to walk out of here. Alive,” you cut straight to the chase.

“You’re in no place to make demands,” the man noted, tilting his head to the side to eye you curiously. He holstered his pistol back at his side but none of the men with him lowered theirs. You kept yours steady in front of you. “I’m not going to negotiate with a gun aimed at my face.”

You grit your teeth--having the gun trained on their leader was the only sort of insurance you had right now, but you supposed it didn’t mean anything anyway. If you pulled the trigger, they would either just straight up shoot you, or at the very least subdue you and then kill Rindou and Ran.

Frustration bled through your skin and painted your blood black, you dropped the gun to your side. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Think. 

“What makes you think Kenji wants Izanami?” the man questioned, hands in his pockets as he took a step toward you. He looked at ease, relaxed, and resentment stirred in you. “We already have Izanagi-”

“Izanami is worth double Izanagi,” you interrupted, meeting his eyes, “and two night ago, I spent four hours talking to my lawyers in order to have it passed on to Kokonoi Hajime after I die. Bonten’s in a shitty spot now because you went after all of their current businesses, it won’t be as shitty once they have their hands on a corporation worth five trillion yen.”

The man’s lax position faltered, you kept your gaze steady.

You were lying. The company was still set to go to Takuya at your death but there was no way for them to know that. 

Or they shouldn’t have a way, at least.

“Get Kenji on the phone,” the man’s voice was sharp and cold as he looked over his shoulder at one of the men behind him, who shifted uncomfortably at his words. 

“Rui-”

“Now,” the man said harshly, waiting for the other man to scramble for his phone before turning his attention back on you. Rui’s lips twisted, “You’re a slimy little bitch, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like being backed into corners,” was all you said in response. 

Rui smiled, it had your nerves on fire, “Neither does he,” he said ominously, and you couldn’t help the chill that ran down your spine at his words, the way every single cell of your body screamed at you to run, to flee. 

Rui turned around, “Give me the phone,” he said, taking the phone from the other man and pressing it to his ear. You watched as he took a few steps away, speaking quietly to who you could only assume was Sugawara on the other line. You let out one steady breath, eyes taking one long look back toward where Ran and Rindou were on the opposite side of the door.

Did you do the right thing?

Now that you were out here, confronting them, you weren’t so sure. 

No, you tried to convince yourself, no, you did what was right. There was no other option. Had you waited for them to come in there, they would have died. 

Any option that ended with them dying was not actually an option. 

You forced your gaze back to Rui, watching as he paced around listening to whatever Sugawara was going on about. You stiffened as he stopped midstep, looking at you from the corner of his eye, “Are you sure?” he asked before wincing, “... alright, alright, I get it.”

Rui walked back over toward you, you eyed him hesitantly as he held out the phone, “For you.”

Staring at the device for a second, your lips pulled down as you took it from your hand, holding it to your ear, “What?” you asked. 

“It didn’t have to come to this. I gave you a chance, y’know?” Sugawara’s tone was a sort of faux-sympathy that made your skin crawl, “More than one, actually. But I gave you a real chance that night, asking if you wanted to make a deal for Haitani Ran.”

“You would have killed us both,” you told him, and Sugawara paused for a moment before snorting.

“Maybe,” he agreed, “At least it wouldn’t have been all three of you, though.”

Your blood felt cold, your breath caught. 

All three of-

“It’s going to be a pain in the ass trying to cover this to Ichirou, you’ve caused more trouble than you’re worth,” the fake tone dropped, replaced by a sharp and icy one that made your mouth go dry, “Kokonoi Hajime won’t be able to do anything with Izanami, he and the rest of the Bonten executives will be dead by morning.”

Your head snapped to the side as movement rushed near your head, eyes widening as Rui raised his gun to your temple. Your lips parted, a cry of warning on the tip of your tongue to Rindou and Ran but there was no time.

You never had enough fucking time. 

Your eyes slid shut instinctively as his finger twitched on the trigger. You wanted to apologize, tell them that you were sorry, that you had been wrong. You wanted to warn them and tell them you had failed, you should have known you would, you always fail without someone else’s help. You wanted to tell them that you wished you had listened to them, that you would have stayed in the locker room with them so you could at the very least greet death together.

You didn’t want to die alone.

But you couldn’t, because everything was happening too fast and you barely even had time to think, much less speak. The gunshot was deafening, your ears rung, and you waited for the pain. 

You waited, and you waited, and you waited. 

It didn’t come. 

Blood and mush splattered against your face, in your eye, across your lips. You forced yourself to look down when you felt something fall hard against your foot and you could only stare at Rui’s unmoving body at your feet--half of his face blown off, gun discarded on the floor next to you.

What the-

You didn’t have time to try to figure out what happened, diving down to grab his gun before throwing yourself behind some lifting equipment just as another bullet hit the wall by your head. 

Once you had some sort of cover, you looked around, eyes darting through the mirrors set up across the gym as you tried to understand what was happening. Sugawara’s men were taking cover throughout the room, half of them already dead on the floor. You couldn’t tell where the bullets were coming from--the entrance, maybe?

You tried to keep your breath steady but it was almost impossible under the circumstances. Every inhale caught, every exhale shook, fear was freezing your body, rendering you immobile. 

Don’t let it control you, you told yourself over and over again. Rindou and Ran were still trapped in the locker room—sitting ducks, although you supposed it might be for the best, considering they would have come out at the first gunshot and gotten themselves killed in the fire fight.

Protect the door.

Breathe in, breathe out.

You focused on what was happening around you. Most of Sugawara’s men had their attention trained on the barrage of bullets coming at them.

Most.

Your eyes darted around, training in on a man aiming his gun at the door. It was a thinner metal. 

The bullet would go right through, and you knew Rindou and Ran would be right on the opposite side of it, banging against the metal trying to get to you.

Breathe in. Aim. Breathe out. Pull the trigger.

The man hit the ground hard, blood spurting from his neck and pooling in his mouth, choking and spasming on the ground. You felt sick to your stomach but you couldn’t watch for long. You were forced to take cover again as his death caught the attention of one of his friends, who was aiming in your direction in an instant, bullets flying in the air just over where you had been standing.

Breathe in, breathe out. 

You had to control yourself. 

“I’ll cover you,” you heard an unfamiliar male voice say and your eyes widened as your gaze shot back up to the mirror, catching sight of the figure in the mirror making his way toward you, another covering his approach from a little ways back.

He was going for the locker room. 

Realization hit you like a truck, all of the air was ripped from your lungs as you realized where exactly the man was taking off to. You couldn’t get a good angle from where you were kneeling behind the machine, but if you stood or tried to move, you’d be in line of fire of the man that was covering him.

You didn’t know what to do.

You could feel the anxiety beginning to claw at your chest again. You could feel the panic rise, the way your breath quickened, the way your heart raced. You were hesitating, you could feel yourself hesitating and you couldn’t stop yourself. Your fingers trembled around the gun, the world around you was somehow sped up and moving in slow motion at the same time.

You had to risk it.

You’d have one shot. Make it count. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, holding the gun steady in front of you before pushing yourself to your feet. You swiveled, aiming it in the direction of the man approaching the locker room and pulling the trigger without sparing a second.

He hit the ground, and then so did you. 

A searing pain shot through your arm, blinding pain, you felt like you were on fire and you gasped as your hand flew to your bicep where a bullet had ripped through and tore out a chunk of your skin on the side of your arm. You bit down hard on your tongue, swallowing the cry of pain. Tears stung your eyes and you tried so fucking hard to push them away because you couldn’t afford to have blurry vision right now. 

Get up, you told yourself, forcing yourself back to your hands and knees, your ears rung, your vision spun, get up. 

You held the gun tight in your hand, breath ragged as you tried to push yourself up but a large hand wrapped around your other bicep, yanking you to your feet. You tried to push away, panic flooding your system but whoever was holding you was strong, much stronger than you. 

“Oi, relax,” a voice grunted, and you paused, breath catching as your eyes snapped to a hulking figure standing at your right. Blonde hair, pointed eyebrows, and familiar red eyes stared down at you. 

“Hey, princess,” a familiar voice heckled from a few feet away, and now that you were slowly calming down, you realized that the gunshots had come to the stop, the chaos in the room having come to an eerie still, Sugawara’s men lying unmoving on the ground. 

Madarame Shion was crouching on the ground next to Rui’s head. Mochizuki Kanji kept you steady on your feet.

“Long time, no see,” Shion finished, pushing himself to his feet, a wild grin on his face. “You look like shit.”

You let out a huff of laughter that sounded more like a sob. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, “Fuck you, Shion,” you said, but there was no heat behind your words as you leaned into Mochi while throwing your good arm around Shion. Your chest felt tight, the tears that had been building in your eyes spilled over as reality, relief, finally hit you.

You felt a hand grab your hurt arm gently, “Fuckers are using RIP rounds,” you heard Mochi mutter.

“Yikes,” Shion said, pulling away from you to lean down and look at your arm, “Ouch, yeah, that gotta hurt. Glad it’s not me.”

You shot Shion a withering look but he only winked at you, nodding to the door to the locker room, “You might wanna let them out of there. Preferably before they find a way to burn this place down. We’ve gotta get out of here, I’m sure they’ll be sending reinforcements up soon.”

You let out a breath, stepping toward the locker room. The pain had you dizzy on your feet for a second but Mochi’s grip on your waist tightened, you thanked him quietly before moving to the door. You stared at it for a moment, throat tight, before you forced yourself to push the weighted bar out from where it was holding the doors shut. 

The bar hit the ground with a loud crash, you flinched at the noise before using your foot to roll it out of the way. You reached forward with your good arm, pulling the door open, and let it swing open with a dull thud. 

Ran stared back at you from where he was standing half in front of Rindou. You weren’t sure how many seconds passed as the two of you stared at each other, trying to process what you were looking at.

“You’re okay,” Ran had never sounded so relieved before, voice little over a breath as he rushed toward you, with a sort of energy you really didn’t think he had left in him. Your throat felt swollen as you felt his arms wrap snug around your waist, pulling you toward him, flush against his body. Your breath was shaky, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling as best you could. Your fingers trembled against his back, his palm smoothed out against yours, blunt nails digging into your shirt.

“God, I’m so-” Ran cut himself off, pulling back to look at you. His hands slid back up your body, leaving a burning trail in their wake until they came to your face, cupping your cheeks more gently than you had ever seen him be with anyone before. His eyes raked over you, his throat bobbed, “I’m so fucking mad at you. I’m livid, you have no fucking idea, you-”

He cut himself off, taking in a sharp breath, “You could have died. You-you can’t give yourself up like that, not for us. You-”

He couldn’t finish whatever he was trying to say, instead only pressing his lips together and looking away.

“Your arm,” Rindou’s voice was quiet, tight. You looked up from Ran’s neck, eyes focusing in on Rindou’s face, catching the strange expression that was decorating it as he held your arm. His lips parted as if to speak but no words left his lips.

Guilty, you realized, he looked guilty. 

“Hey,” Mochi said, “We don’t have time for the waterworks, come on.”

Rindou bristled, eyes darting up from you to glare at Mochi but his glare fell almost instantly, “Mochi? Shion?” he asked, surprise lacing his tone, evidently just having noticed them.

“No shit,” Shion said, ever the eloquent one.

“The fuck are you guys doing here?” Ran’s voice was rough as he spoke, stepping away from you to pick up a discarded gun from one of Sugawara’s dead men. “I thought Sanzu said-”

“Fuck Sanzu,” Shion interrupted immediately, “He’s a fuckin’ asshole. Kakucho got word of what was happening over here. He told us. We weren’t just going to leave you guys to die.” 

“Shion,” Rindou said quietly, and Shion looked uncomfortable at the change in tone, and the gratitude in Rindou’s voice. 

“Fuck off, don’t get all sappy,” Shion muttered, “Hurry up and get yourself armed. We gotta get out of here still.”

Rindou nodded, kneeling down to grab a gun, dropping the magazine out to make sure it was loaded before rising back to his feet, pressing his free hand against your back as he led you toward the door, Shion and Mochi taking the front. 

You winced at the sound of glass being crushed beneath your shoes, trying to keep your eyes off of the dead bodies littering the ground, trying to keep your mind off of the pain that was numbing the entire left side of your body. You tried to focus on Rindou’s hand warm against your lower back, on Ran walking a little bit in front of you. But it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Your entire arm felt like it was numb and on fire at the same time, you didn’t even dare to look at the wound. 

“I’m sorry,” Rindou said quietly, and you turned to look over your shoulder so you could see him but he only looked away. You tried to say something, tell him that there was nothing for him to be sorry for, but Shion was speaking before you could push the words past your lips. 

“We cleared out a good number of ‘em downstairs,” he said, pushing open the doors to the stairwell, holding them open for you, Rindou and Ran to pass through. “But I’m sure more’ve already showed up.”

Mochi let out a noise of agreement, “Kakucho texted us while we were on the way up here. Said another car pulled in.”

“Wonderful,” Ran muttered.

“At least it’s not-”

Another gunshot, Shion let out a string of curses, letting the door to the stairwell slam shut just as another three were shot at it from down the hall, denting the metal where his head was. The look Shion threw at the closed door was nothing short of lethal, Mochi shared a long look with him as Rindou stepped in front of both you and Ran.

“Go,” Mochi told the three of you, and all three of your heads snapped toward him instantly, questioning. “You’re not deaf, I said go. Go.”

“We’re not leaving you guys,” Rindou snapped immediately, “Fuck that. We’ll take them out and then get out of here together.”

“It’s a waste of time,” Mochi shot right back, “Ran is hurt bad, so is she. You need to get the two of them out of here, get a head start. We can catch up.”

You shook your head, a bad feeling settling in your stomach, “No, we-”

“Go,” Mochi said, voice harsher, “Go. We’ll be okay. If anything, you guys staying is going to put us at more risk. We’ll handle these guys and catch up.”

You shot a desperate look at Shion, waiting for him to speak up and tell Mochi that it would be better for the three of you to stay to help but he only nodded, grimacing as another round of bullets was fired at the door, “Go,” he said, “We’ll be fine. We’ll meet you at the safehouse. Okay?”

You wanted to argue, and scream at them that this wasn’t necessary but even as you opened your mouth another wave of pain hit you, making you sway on your feet. Rindou steadied you, taking one long look down at you before looking at Ran, who was in an even worse condition. He let out a shaky, frustrated breath, forcing his gaze back to Shion and Mochi.

“Don’t die,” his voice was low, it edged on pleading. 

Please don’t die, you echoed silently.

Shion only winked at the three of you, “Back at you,” he said as he motioned for Mochi to join him at the door. 

Rindou looked down at you as he walked over to Ran, wrapping an arm around his waist, “You can walk on your own?” he asked, and you nodded, trying to push away the pain and dizziness. “Okay,” he said, “Let’s get out of here.”

---

Ran had passed out on the way back, his aggravated wounds having become too much for his body to handle. Rindou could barely stand to look at you.

Every time you would go into the other room to talk to him, he would turn away or leave the room after sparing one look at your stitched up wound. You tried to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was your choice to go out there, but he would only scoff, shaking his head.

“I let you go,” he would say, voice low, defeated, and when you tried to grab his shoulder and force him to look at you, he would shrug you off and finally leave the room.

He couldn’t do this forever, you tried to convince yourself as you stared at the closed door to the bedroom he had claimed, debating on making another attempt. But even as the words crossed your mind, you knew that Rindou very well could do this forever--he was just as stubborn as Ran when he got like this, just as stubborn as you.

You sighed as you walked away from his door, making your way to Ran’s room instead. The halls were dark, and the safe house itself was chilly. You let out a shaky breath, arms wrapped around your torso as you kept down the hall. Your eyes flashed up to the clock—it was late, it had taken quite a bit to get to the outskirts of Tokyo to the safe house and you’d been there for a few hours already.

You wondered if Ran was awake yet, but you doubted it. He would have come to find you by now if he was, even if he knew damn well that you would have rathered him to stay laying down. You couldn’t help the way your mind began to wander back to Rindou, guilt churning in your chest.

He had done what you wanted—he had let go of you. And you knew from the look in his eyes, from the way his fingers trembled around your wrist that he didn’t want to, that it had taken everything in him to let go of your wrist and hold Ran back. 

And you couldn’t imagine what must’ve been going through his head when the first gunshot was shot--thinking that he was the one that let you walk to your death, thinking that he did it for the chance to save Ran but now Ran was going to die anyway and you got yourself killed trying to save the both of them. 

You didn’t blame him for not wanting to look at you but it still hurt. You wished you could go back to this morning, before all of this happened, when the two of you had just woken up, basking under the morning sun, still half-asleep and talking quietly to each other as to not wake Ran. You could have stayed there forever with them, Ran curled up behind you, Rindou inches in front of you—it had been good. It had been good for the first time in years, and now it was all shit again. 

But at least you were together. 

It was the only thought driving you forward. All three of you were alive, all three of you were together. You had to be grateful for the small mercies, not take the smaller things for granted. 

You let out a soft breath as you shook your head, continuing down the dim hallway til you reached the cracked open door at the end of it. Ran’s bedroom light was still on, and you rolled your eyes at Rindou, realizing he had probably forgotten to turn it off before leaving the room earlier. 

Slowly and carefully, you opened the door, wincing as it creaked under your push. You slipped into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you, gaze flitting around the old room before you forced yourself to look at where Ran was still fast asleep in bed, laying still beneath the half-strewn off comforter. 

You looked over his body, your throat felt tight and your eyes stung as you looked down at the dark bruises visible--they had only gotten worse with the jostling around in the frantic escape from the penthouse. The one on his lower abdomen had spread all the way around his side and, from what you could tell, back, it was an ugly black and red color, and you wished Miss Yua was around to take a look at the wound because you had no idea what you were looking at, all you knew was that it was bad and he was in pain. 

His lashes brushed his cheeks as he slept soundly in the bed. Your hand drifted up to his cheek, fingers touching his skin so lightly that you could just barely feel him beneath you. He looked peaceful--more peaceful than you had seen him in a long time. And you knew from Rindou that he hadn’t been sleeping well--not for a while. You didn’t want to wake him, and you knew you should leave, let him get his rest but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You didn’t want him to wake up alone. 

You swallowed thickly as your fingers drifted down from his cheek, trailing down his body to absently trace the tattoos decorating his chest down to the bruises. Your fingers hesitated above them, a sick feeling churning in your stomach.

Your fault.

The words rang loud, deafening in your head. This was your fault. Your choice. Was there another way? Had Sugawara been telling the truth? You knew he wasn’t. He literally admitted it on the phone; he was a scumbag that would have killed Ran had he known just how close the two of you were, and then he would have taken you out too but a part of you couldn’t help but doubt yourself.

What if this hadn’t had to happen? Look at yourself, you can’t even protect the two people you love most.

You shut your eyes, trying to force the tears away. I’m sorry, you wanted to tell him I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-

Long fingers wrapped around your hand, you opened your eyes and dragged your gaze back up to his face. Violet eyes peered up at you, brows furrowed, “It’s not your fault,” he murmured and you just shook your head and looked away. 

“Hey,” Ran’s voice was low, rough from sleep, you forced yourself to look at him again, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“What if there was another option?” you hated how your voice cracked, and you hated how Ran’s thumb smoothed over the back of your hand, “I didn’t even give it any thought, Ran, there could’ve been something else. If I had just took a minute to think I-”

He reached forward with his other hand, palm, coming up to cup your cheek, fingers dancing along your cheekbone. Your words faltered as you leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes lidded as you looked down at him.

“There was no time,” Ran murmured, “You did what was best in the moment. You always do.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him no, he was wrong, but Ran’s expression left no room for any arguments. And even if it had, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to bring yourself to argue with him.

You didn’t have much fight left in you at all anymore. You wanted to give up, lay in their arms and let the rest of the world fade away. Fuck Izanami, fuck your uncle, fuck Sugawara, and fuck Bonten. All you wanted was them, in any and everything way.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, and you weren’t sure how many times you had apologized over the course of the past two or three days but it didn’t feel like it was enough. You were sure that you could chant it out as a mantra for the rest of your life, the only words you ever speak, and you would still feel like it wasn’t enough. There were no words to accurately describe just how sorry you were--not just for what happened to Ran, but for everything else too--and there was nothing you could do, no action to take that would convince yourself of your atonement, even if they did forgive you. “I’m sorry, I’m so sor-”

“Stop that,” Ran said quietly, squeezing your hand softly as his thumb traced over your cheekbone again, “I-”

Ran’s brows furrowed, confliction crossing over his face for just a moment before he let out a deep sigh, “I’m angry at you,” Ran admitted, “I’m so angry at you but… not for the wounds. That wasn’t your fault.”

You tried to look away but he turned your face back toward him, “Don’t do that again,” he said, “Ever. Don’t give yourself up. We don’t trade lives.”

You didn’t want to make that promise. You hoped that you could just stay silent and he would take the silence as an agreement but you should have known better than that. Ran’s jaw clenched when you didn’t respond, you could see his temper flare behind his eyes and you could see him struggle to rein it in.

“Promise me,” he said more insistently, his fingers pressing into your skin just a bit deeper, “Promise me.”

You let out a heavybreath, you tried to close your eyes but he only tightened his grip, making you keep your gaze steady on him.

“I promise,” you finally said after a few moments, even though you knew damn well you’d never be able to deny either of them again. “I promise.”

Ran inhaled sharply, eyes searching yours to make sure you were telling the truth even though you knew it was unnecessary, you didn’t think you’d be able to bring yourself to lie to him--either of them--ever again. 

Ran leaned up, and you tried to stop him, noticing how his abdomen tensed as the pain hit him, but you were taken off guard as the hand on your cheek slid behind your head, pulling you down halfway to meet him. You inhaled sharply against his lips, hands frozen on either side of you, eyes wide just for a moment before your body reacted on its own, lips moving against his.

You shouldn’t be doing this, the thought made your hands tremble, but instead of pushing yourself away from him, you only shifted closer. The kiss was different from the one the two of you shared that first night--that one had been fueled by desperation, a loss of control, this one…

This one you wanted. And that wasn’t to say you didn’t want the one from the first night but you wanted this one in a different way, a more intense way. 

You brought your hands up to Ran’s face, cupping his cheeks, you let out another shaky breath into his mouth and your eyes slid shut as one of Ran’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, smoothing over your back. His skin was hot against yours, burning, only a few touches and you could barely think straight. 

This one was different. The noise you let out into Ran’s mouth would have been embarrassing under any other circumstances, you could feel your face heat up but Ran seemed to pay no mind, more focused on pulling you closer to him, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You didn’t quite know how to describe it but it had you dizzy, light-headed, not in the same way the one at the club left you.  

A strange feeling passed over you as your body pressed flush against Ran’s, half on top of him as his hand slid down your body, wrapping around your thigh to hook your leg over his waist. You should be pushing him away. You knew that. This was wrong, and not just for the obvious reasons—Ran was hurt, you shouldn’t be putting more strain on his body but also-

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway. Your breath caught as you pulled off of Ran. His eyes were hazy, unfocused on you. The violet lidded in a way that had your blood running hot, but you forced yourself to ignore it, pushing up to turn around. 

Rindou stared at the two of you, lips parted, an indecipherable expression on his face and a glass of water in his hand, one that he had clearly been bringing for Ran. He looked away sharply, placing the water down on the dresser before he turned on his heel and walked back the way you came. 

Oh, you had seen this play out before, you recalled, guilt making your stomach drop as you forced yourself to your feet, you wouldn’t let it end the same way this time. 

“Rin, wait,” you called, chasing after him. He was already three-quarters of the way down the hall by the time you caught up to him. “Rin,” you said again, voice catching, “Hold on!” 

You grabbed his wrist, but he only shook it right off. Irritated, you went for it again, and this time, he turned it on you, maneuvering his wrist out of your hold and swiveling it to grab yours, holding it at an uncomfortable angle as he pushed you back into the wall, pinning you in place.

“Stop,” his voice was low and rough. You could see the hurt swimming behind his eyes, but it wasn’t just hurt. There was something else there. Regret? Acceptance? You couldn’t tell, “Just stop.”

“What do you mean stop?” you asked, looking up at him, trying to get your wrist free from his hand but you couldn’t, his grip only tightened. “Rin-”

“Stop as in leave me alone,” Rindou said, shaking his head and taking a step away from you, “I made my choice. I let you go. Go back to Ran.”

“You what?” you breathed out, there was a cryptic undertone to his words, one that you weren’t quite sure that you liked, “Rin, what are you talkin-”

“Stop,” he raised his voice, saying your name sharply, and you flinched back. He faltered at your reaction, shoulders dropping, if only slightly, eyes shutting. “Just go back to Ran. Please.”

“No, Rin,” you shook your head, mind running a million miles a minute. I let you go, was he talking about back at the penthouse? He had to be but it didn’t make sense. How did that relate at all to what was happening right now? “Rin, are you talking about back at the penthouse, I don’t-“

“I let you go,” Rindou said again, but there was no anger in his voice this time, only distress. “I let you go. I let go of your wrist and let you walk to your death, I let you go when he was fighting tooth and fucking nail to make you stay, begging me to at least let him go out there with you. I just let you go.”

You faltered, shaking your head and trying to reach back out for his hand but he stepped away, “Rin, I asked you to, that’s not-“

“No,” Rindou said, shutting his eyes, his voice was weak and all you wanted to do was reach out and hold him, “You don’t-you don’t understand. The first gunshot, when it went off. I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and I had let go of your wrist, I let go so you could sacrifice yourself to try to save us. I let you die for nothing.”

“I’m not dead though, Rin, I’m right here and I’m okay, I-“ he didn’t let you finish. Again.

“That’s not the point, I forfeited any-“ he cut himself off, stammering over his words before he squeezed his eyes shut, rephrasing. “Ran fought for you, and I gave you up. I let go. Go back to him. I’m okay, really.”

“You didn’t give me up, and you didn’t let me go,” you cried out, getting frustrated with his stubbornness. You pushed his chest hard, making him crash back into the opposite wall. “You fucking believed in me, Rindou. Stop throwing a pity parade and-“

“Stop!” Rindou yelled this time, anger flaring in his eyes. And you felt overwhelmed, anxious, because Rindou was getting the wrong idea, understandably, and he was spiraling and you didn’t know what to do and you didn’t want him to feel this way. Because you didn’t want Ran, you wanted them both. “Fucking hell, I know you want him, I saw you two that night at the club. I saw you just now! Why the fuck won’t you let me do the right thing and walk away? Both of you, neither of you fucking give a shit about what I want. He didn’t back then, you don’t now. I’m trying to make this fucking easier on myself. I fucking know you want him and-“

“I want you both!” you shouted at him, interrupting him mid sentence. Rindou froze from where he was standing in front of you, and you froze too, mind spinning as you processed the words that you had just spoken out loud—the same words you had never dared to speak all of those years ago—before you spoke them again, quieter this time, less heat behind them. “I want you both.”

Oh god.

Oh god.

You didn’t move, keeping your gaze trained forward as soon as you fully registered what you had said. What the fuck was wrong with you? Now was not the time for this. You-

“What?” Rindou’s voice was little over a breath. You shook your head and took a step back. He matched your step, keeping the distance, “No, don’t you dare try to back out now. You don’t get to say something like that and then try to pretend you didn’t.”

Your bottom lip trembled. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Ran leaning against the doorframe of his room, watching you, and you had half a mind to snap at him and tell him to get back in bed.

Where had that come from? you tried to ask yourself. But you supposed that wasn’t the question—you had always loved them, from the beginning, the years abroad hadn’t changed that no matter how hard you might’ve tried to convince yourself and Rindou had pushed you into finally admitting it out loud.

You let out a shaky breath, hands fisted tight at your side, “I said what I said. Now isn’t the time though, we should talk about this once we’re out of Tokyo.”

“Technically we’re out of Tokyo,” Ran butted in, eyes sharp and curious as he watched you.

“You know what i mean,” you snapped right back, glaring at him, “Go back to bed.”

“Join me and I will,” he winked and you felt hot as you glared harder before looking away, the embarrassment slowly beginning to hit.

“I-“ you began, closing your eyes when you stuttered over your words, “We shouldn’t talk about something like this until we’re safe.”

“We’ll never be safe,” Rindou murmured and you grimaced, his words weighing heavy on your chest because you knew they were true.

“I don’t really know what else there is to talk about,” you tried a different approach, but from the way Rindou rolled his eyes, you knew it was going to go just as poorly. “I said what I said-“

You were cut off as Ran nodded at Rindou, and Rindou scoffed, grabbing your good arm and dragging you back into Ran’s room. You struggled, kicking the back of his knee and spitting out curses, but he only ignored you.

As soon as the door shut behind the two of you, another heavy silence settled.

“How long?” Ran asked, moving to sit back down on the bed, arm resting on his torso. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate, “How long have you known this?”

You did not want to answer, but they were not giving you a chance to change the conversation and you couldn’t think straight.

“Since we were younger,” you finally said, and they both shared a look. You tilted your head up, trying to hide just how humiliated you felt. “Kids, really.”

Ran snorted, taking a sip of the water that Rindou had brought him, “Could’ve saved me and Rindou a lot of arguments,” he murmured, amused and you forced yourself to look back down from the ceiling.

“What do you mean?” you asked but then your lips twisted down as you remembered Rindou’s words: he didn’t back then, you don’t now.

“Nothing,” they chorused at the same time and you glared at them.

“Are you kidding me? You’re making me answer all this shit but you won’t?” you snapped, moving to rise off the bed but Ran’s arm snapped out quicker, tugging you back down. 

You scowled as your back hit the bed, wincing as you jostled your bad arm around, “That hurt,” you muttered, and he gave you a half-assed apology. You tried to sit up but his palm pressed against your chest, pushing you back down, “You’re not funny,” you told Ran.

His lips curled up into a sly smile that nearly had you squirming, “I’m not trying to be,” he said and you let out a half-nervous, half-irritated breath, looking to Rindou for help but he only pointedly looked away.

“Why did you leave then?” Rindou was changing the subject and you wanted to throw a fit because you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop him from doing it. “If you knew back then.”

“Because I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way of my goals,” you said right back and Rindou winced, looking away.

“We weren’t your goal?” 

“You guys were always my ultimate goal,” you said quietly, giving up on trying to get Ran to let you sit up, staring at the ceiling. “But there were things I had to do first. I told you last night, the detours… there were just… a lot more than I thought. It took longer than I thought. But being with you guys, that was always my goal in the end. You guys are all I’ve ever wanted.”

Neither of them spoke for a while and Ran finally let go of you, you immediately took the opportunity to sit up, shooting him a glare before you settled back down, cross-legged between them on the bed.

“We shouldn’t be doing this now,” you spoke softly again, staring at your lap, “There’s too much going on, we still need to figure out how to get out of Japan and-“

“We’re not getting out of Japan until shit calms down, there’s no way. Unless you have a secret private airport you can bring us to,” Rindou countered and your shoulders slumped.

The only private airports you knew of were your uncle’s, and Sugawara would have eyes all over them right now.

“That’s what I thought,” Ran’s eyes danced with a sort of delight you hadn’t seen in them for a long time. Next to him, Rindou looked just as interested and an anxious feeling settled in your stomach as the two of them shared a look—they had always been most dangerous when they worked together. “So how ‘bout you sit back and relax and tell us everything this time?”

WC: 12.5k 

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK GREATLY APPRECIATED !!! 

— feedback on character development and story progression pls do not nitpick little mistakes — i didn’t even run this chapter thru grammarly 🥹

[asstrongasyouthink]

it's not like i didn't know the rest of the world has left us disableds behind but nothing hammered it home like being hit with a slew of emails from social justice orgs this week with tips like 'dig out your n95' DIG OUT bitch the peg where i hang my keys has 3 hanging on it right fucking now

anyway our aqi is back under 100 so now i can return to my regularly scheduled existential grief at losing emotional and physical intimacy in all my relationships over the last 3.5 years

[writerpeach]

Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

aespa Karina x m!reader

10k words

---

Read on AO3

Masterlist

"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."

"Nearly one." 

"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"

"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”

"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.

"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could." 

"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."

“Sounds like you had a fun night.” 

"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state. 

“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."

Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp. 

"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.

"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."

"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."

Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.

"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."

"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."

"Yizhuo?" you ask. 

"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends." 

"Don't think I have." 

"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.

"She's learned from the best, I suppose."

"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."

"Really?"

“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."

"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina." 

"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that. 

“I’m serious!” 

"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly. 

"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.” 

Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.

"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.

"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"

"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else." 

"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."

"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.

"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."

"Can't say I've done that either."

"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.  

"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."

"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."

"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."

"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."

"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."

"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—" 

"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.

"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"

"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.

"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."

Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."

And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.

The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.

"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin. 

“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close. 

You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"

Karina knows she's won.

As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.

"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.

"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.

You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina. 

"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting." 

Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now. 

"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"

"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it. 

"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word. 

"Y-yeah, I—"

"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about." 

"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.” 

You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now. 

"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?" 

"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."

"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go. 

"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie." 

Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain. 

Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.

Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"

A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go. 

"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity. 

“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire. 

You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal. 

"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"

"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste. 

It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.

"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?" 

You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you. 

There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.

"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.

All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.

"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.

You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh. 

"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"

Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.” 

Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?” 

"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.

You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with. 

"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets. 

The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin. 

Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here. 

"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.

"Only get to do this for the first time once." 

“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head. 

"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.

Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist. 

Now it all comes together. 

Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most. 

"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that. 

"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up. 

"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"

There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes. 

"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all. 

She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants. 

"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"

Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight. 

"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."

Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.

"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her. 

There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make. 

"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.

"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"

Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“

A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind. 

"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“ 

She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned. 

It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture. 

It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around. 

"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp. 

"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat. 

Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."

Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging. 

"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat. 

"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.

"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—

Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.

And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory. 

With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it. 

“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.

“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits." 

You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"

"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body. 

But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.

"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.

You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage. 

"Can't take much more—"

Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"

You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off. 

"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to." 

That's all it takes. 

Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking. 

Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have. 

And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made. 

"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"

Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.

"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"

"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."

"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"

There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now. 

"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be. 

“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"

You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words. 

There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.

Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.

"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store. 

So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.

"Rina—" 

"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"

"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen. 

"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."

"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words  tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it? 

Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy. 

"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum." 

Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.

"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.” 

"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"

Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.

“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.

It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"

You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over. 

Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.

"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"

"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in. 

Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you. 

You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.

"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms. 

It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.

"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.

All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.

Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention. 

Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger. 

"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you. 

And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.

"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like. 

"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"

Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."

The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—

"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.

It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay. 

“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high. 

A question like that only has one answer. 

"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.

And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.

It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second. 

And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.

"Good boy..."

The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again. 

Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?" 

You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers. 

It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position. 

"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“ 

It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs. 

“Both."

Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open. 

"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."

✦ ✦

When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks. 

And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy. 

With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.

No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame. 

Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it. 

It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—

“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you. 

But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere. 

"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.

"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"

And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."

You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.

Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—

Yizhuo.

It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.

"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"

"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on. 

"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"

"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."

"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.

"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?" 

"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her. 

"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"

"He's my roommate!"

Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"

"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—

"And you fuck him?"

"Yizhuo!"

"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"

"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."

Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"

"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."

And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame. 

"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.

"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie." 

"She's cute, too."

"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?" 

"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.

"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."

You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have." 

"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.

"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment. 

"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.” 

"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"

And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.

“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time." 

"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"

"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.

You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."

And you can't possibly resist that. 

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[lovifie]

Fluff | Smut | 1178 words | Back to Masterlist

Simon Riley whose favourite hair was always yours.

The first time he touched your hair, you were both deployed. You were walking before him, your hair in a braid behind your head that was almost hypnotizing. You stick your head from behind a wall, and Simon pulls your braid the moment he hears gunshots to keep you away from the fire line. A whine escapes your lips that sounds almost like a kicked dog and you quickly look back to him. "Thank you, Lt." You mutter.

And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.

Your hair doesn't glow in the dark, yet it always draws his attention. Like a lifesaver floating in an ocean. He quickly learns that he can't wait to touch it again, so he observes and waits for a chance to do so.

Like when you were rewriting a report on the mess hall, Price told you it was illegible and taking into consideration Price's handwriting you took it to heart. So there you were, writing again the pages with your best handwriting.

A lock of hair in the middle of your face had Simon almost sprinting to you to move it out of your face before you could it yourself. Of course, he didn't say anything romantic, instead, he said: "You are gonna go blind like that, and you are supposed to watch my back out there."

It wasn't romantic on its own, but his hand remained caressing the hair now behind your ear and when you looked up to meet his gaze, the both of you pulled away from each other as if you had been hit. "That line is dropping, start it again." He comments. "Yes, Lt."

On another occasion, you got late to practice, overslept. Obviously by your bed hair, not even time to brush it. Price quickly told you to fix it and Simon seriously considered if the insubordination would be worth it, because he would rip both his arms off if he could wake up every day with that sight.

It was at that point that Simon realized he was doomed, because he had not been slowly pulled to you, he fell face first and being honest to himself, he was happy with it. He wouldn't admit it yet, it was easier to believe he only liked your hair.

And as time went on, it became more and more easy to find excuses to touch it.

Like when you got sick that one time, waking in the middle of the night to empty your stomach on the toilet. And it went on until the morning, when he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, too weak to walk back to your room.

Face wet with tears for not being able to stop throwing up, for being tired and for feeling useless. He quickly crouched down, paper towel in hand to clean your face. "Why are you here?" He softly asked, mask hiding his expression but his eyes gave away his emotions.

"I got sick." You mumbled, voice hoarse with the strain of the night.

"That I can tell, love." The nickname caught the both of you by surprise, but neither complained. "Let's get you to bed."

You nod, grabbing his hand to stand up, before another round of nausea hits forcing you to back down to throw up again. He quickly moved your hair out of the way grabbing it at the back of your head. "You are gonna get sick, Ghost. Leave me alone, I'm fine."

"Number one, I'm pretty sure your dinner from last night is on my hand, so I believe we are past nicknames now." He says, being interrupted before being able to say the second thing.

"Don't touch my hair with puke on your hand!" You say grabbing his wrist, making him chuckle. You barely had the energy to pull your head up and still tried to fight him.

"I would never, love. That's the other hand." He said looking as you wiped your mouth, breath getting knocked out of him when you lock your gaze on his. "What is it?" You asked, confusing him. "Your name."

"Simon."

"Simon?"

"Simon Riley."

A beat of silence simmered in the bathroom for a second.

"That's a surprisingly sweet name, Simon."

And if the world had ended at that moment, Simon would have died a happy man.

But he didn't, instead, he eased his way into your heart.

It wasn't hard, and soon enough Simon didn't need excuses to touch your hair. And touching your hair was the excuse to get you closer to him.

Like when he was dying to kiss your lips, but you wouldn't look up to him. Why wouldn't you look at him? Couldn't you tell it was killing him? So he fisted your hair, pulling back slightly; enough to make you look up but not enough to sting. And when his eyes met yours, he dived right into your lips. Moving his hands to cup your face instead of your hair, needing to feel the warmth of your skin. The kiss pulling the air from his lungs but still making him feel more alive than ever.

Or like when you finally had the time and intimacy to make love. And when he had you on his bed, knees apart and face buried on his pillow, he fisted your hair again, pulling your head back, because he needed to hear you moan his name while he filled you to the brim. Simon Riley was not a saint, but he would go through the hell his life has been again if it meant he got to experience this. Your cunt milking his dick, your smaller hand grabbing the wrist of his hand on your hip, your moans filling the room and when you looked back to him over your shoulder, his life got meaning and he kissed your lips.

Or like when you would cuddle, and he would do tiny braids on your hair he would forget to undo or tell you about and you would find out hours later when you would try to brush your hair and end up with massive knots. Walking to him ready to throw the brush at his head and you would find him hugging your pillow in his sleep, completely relaxed and content with himself.

Or like when years later, he brushed the hair sticking to your forehead by the sweat while you pushed his daughter to life. If he could take the pain away he would, but he knew you were the strongest woman in this world and could do it. He also knew you needed his comfort, so he moved his hand from your hair to grab your hand even if you crushed every bone inside.

Your hair was always his favourite, until your daughter was born. Because she had Simon's eyes, but she had your hair. And your hair was beautiful, but his little girl's hair was the proof of the love between Simon and you.

Simon Riley loved your hair, but he loved you more.

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part 5

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Stalking. Brief mention of domestic violence. Feelings of fear, self loathing, and anxiety. Vomiting. Panic attack/comfort. Medical inaccuracies, hospital setting. A little bit of praise. Johnny is a flirt and a menace.

“Ye’re off yer head.” 

“I’m not.” Johnny expects Simon to relent, to give it up, but when he doesn’t budge, something hot sizzles alive in the pit of Johnny’s stomach, desire roaring to life in his veins. 

“Jus’ like that? Ye’re goin’ let me see yer bonnie face finally?” He slurs, lifting the bottle to his lips, and Simon nods.

“Only if you win."

“And if ye win?” Simon moves closer, his chest brushing against Johnny’s, balaclava covered face dipping down, noses nudging against one another’s in a tentative, teasing way. 

“If I win, you’ll remove something of my choosing instead.” 

Your phone is ringing.

In your sleep, you hardly recognize it, but your subconscious is well trained, and your hand seeks the source of the noise effortlessly, dragging it from the nightstand and next to your face, to squint blearily at it, awareness coming quickly when you recognize the charge nurse’s work line.

“Hello?” You clear the cobwebs of sleep from your throat.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“No, ‘s alright. What’s going on?”

“I know it’s your day off, but-“

“You’re short.” You fill in the blanks, and she huffs.

“We’ve got two out with flu like symptoms, and I’m floating another to-“

“It’s okay.” You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes. “I got you. Just give me like, an hour? I have to get ready and stuff.”

“Of course. Thanks so much, you’re a lifesaver.” You zone out for a moment, plotting out the rest of your day, and mumble something like ‘don’t worry about it’, ending the call with your thumb.

The hotel carpet is plush. It’s cushioned and soft, and it gives a little when you stand and stretch, pulling your arms over your head, twisting and turning with tired bones, shaking loose the stupor that holds your neck too straight, too tightly.

OT isn’t the worst thing in the world right now, considering you’re paying for a long term stay in a hotel, you tell yourself more than a few times as you shower and dress. You should be grateful for it. Understaffing has it’s benefits, financially.

The only wrench about coming in on your day off this week is you’re supposed to be collecting more things from your flat. Particularly, clothing. You’ve only got a short rotation of outfits, scrubs, both in short supply, and… no clean underwear. You had planned to move large chunks of your wardrobe over today, probably at least two trips worth, but will now have to settle for stopping by fairly quick to grab what you can.

It will be fine, you think, casually checking your surroundings as you step off the platform. In and out and on with your day.

You were wrong.

You see it immediately, stepping through the door. The locks are in place, handle, deadbolt, extra one at the top, but you can tell, you can feel, that someone has been in here. Your blood thickens in your veins, freezing to a stop, sluggishly propelled by your frenzied heart. You can hear it in your ears, the thunder of your panic, can feel the fear twisting itself into a sailor’s knot and holding you hostage.

Your feeling is confirmed, rationalized, when you push your bedroom door ajar and see the carnage of what’s been left behind on top of your bed.

Shredded panties.

The entire underwear drawer has been spilled out across your sheets, lace and cotton and silk all ripped to pieces, torn edges clearly made by hands, not knives, not scissors, but the personal touch of fingers, of fists.

Your breath catches in your chest, oxygen in the room falling away, leaving you panting, gasping for your next inhale as you cautiously pick up a pair close to you. They’re grey cotton boy shorts, and your stomach flips up into your throat when they stand as stiff as a board, some sort of dried substance splattered across them, rendering the fabric firm and inflexible.

Not… not just some dried substance… you realize in horror, scanning the pile of panties, noticing the stains on most of them, a milky white color shining against black silk.

You can’t breathe. You stumble away, back slamming into your dresser, sinking down onto the floor, hands covering your ears.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. 

This is sick, even for him. An escalation of disturbing behavior that sends a chill down your spine, frightening you even more than you already were. You knew he’d get in, hoped he would buy your carefully crafted lie: the appearance of you still living there… but to act so brazenly, to do something like… this.

Does he know, does he realize, you’re not actually living in the flat now? 

He’s really going to kill you this time. 

You race to the toilet, heaving yourself over the seat as your breakfast rushes past your lips, a cup of coffee and half eaten muffin accentuated by the sting of bile, and you gag, spitting and hacking until you’re finished, flushing it all away.

You don’t look at the girl in the mirror. You don’t want to see her. Don’t want to tell her all the ways you’re letting her down. She thinks you’re smarter than this, stronger. Braver. She believes you’ve done it once before, you’ve escaped, you’ve hid, and you can do it again.

She doesn’t know you’re not sure you have the heart for it now. She doesn’t realize you’re tired, you’re afraid. She doesn’t understand that you like the life you’ve made, that running is exhausting, that sometimes, in the very darkest corners of your mind, you think that letting him win might be easiest.

So, you don’t look at her. You mourn your pile of panties for a too long second and lock the apartment up tight.

Get it together. Get yourself together. 

You coach yourself the entire way to work, trying to ignore the rubbing and bunching of your scrub pants, an unfortunate consequence of being forced to go commando.

Deep breath. You can do this. 

You still have your sanctuary. 

You had hoped, for a miniscule moment, that your day might improve once you step foot in the hospital, and you pushed away the inkling that suggested that optimism may be linked the fact that you’ll get to see Simon and Johnny, opting not to even acknowledge the strange sensations swirling about inside your heart whenever you think about the other day. The day when the world stood still and Johnny touched your hand so gently, stroking his fingers over your skin, or when the elevator doors parted to reveal Simon and their baby, a sweet baby girl safe in his arms, his eyes alight and adoring, your knees almost giving out at the sight.

Needless to say, you’re eager to badge in.

The day is quickly derailed, when within a half an hour of getting settled into your routine, an alarm goes off for two sixty-eight: thirty-nine degrees.

Your mind immediately somersaults to the pain in his upper right quadrant from your last shift, logical thought leaping all around as you jog down the hall.

You notated it. You passed it on in shift report. It’s only thirty-nine. You did everything right. No one here would just disregard something like that. Deep breath. 

Still… 

Bile leak. Abscess. Infection. Or worse… hepatic artery pseudoaneurysm, hemorrhaging. Big things that could lead to worse things, worse outcomes, worse- 

The door comes up quicker than you realize, and without hesitating, you slip inside.

“Hi.” You’re a little breathless, and Simon’s eyes snap to yours, taking you in, studying from head to toe, brow knitted together. Johnny’s asleep, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel better, or worse.

“Everything alright?” Of course. He’s too perceptive. Get control of yourself, it could be nothing.

“Yeah, I ah… have to draw some blood.” You really do not want to wake your patient, or alarm Simon, but you refuse to lie. You fire off a text to the attending on call, advising him of Johnny’s temperature and reminding him of the upper right quadrant pain, letting him know he can expect labs as soon as you get them downstairs. You give Simon a nod, turning to slide the draw open quietly, pulling out everything you’ll need. His gaze burns a hole in your scrubs, the ever-present scrutiny impossible to escape, and sometimes you wonder if he’s reading your mind.

“What’s wrong? He just fell asleep, Pen was here all morning, tired him out.” His protest is husky, and you think he’s frowning behind the mask. You imagine a strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation; wide jaw gnashed tight with worry.

“He’s running just a bit of a fever.” He jolts, and you shake your head, hoping to soothe his fear. “It’s not too high. I’m not super worried, but we’ll need to check his white cell count, just in case, okay? And then we’ll go from there.” He nods.

“You said this could happen.” You smile. It feels unsteady, but you hope he can’t tell.

“I did. I promised, that if there was something to panic about, I would tell you. We’re not there yet.” It’s not a lie. Your wild spiral from a few minutes ago was an extreme, not reality, and you need to keep your head on.

“Okay.”

“Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what’s going on.” Simon shifts uncomfortably, and you carefully squeeze Johnny's arm, wrapping him with the tie and swabbing the inside of his elbow as fast as possible.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he realizes you’re leaning over him, and his gaze darts to Simon before landing back on you. “There’s our bunny.” He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction, and Simon coughs. Loudly. Bunny? 

“Such a flirt, MacTavish.” You playfully chastise him, relieved he’s feeling like himself. “I just need to get some blood and then I’ll leave you in peace to sleep.” He shrugs, but Simon rubs a thumb against his thigh in tiny little circles, too fast to be considered comfort, and Johnny clucks. “Ah, come on Si.”

“You’re runnin’ a fever, Johnny.”

“Ach. ‘s nothing.” He brushes it off, but his eyes are slow to track Simon’s movements, and you casually sneak a peek at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

“Could be.” You assure him, smoothing a hand over his shoulder and taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture. “But better safe than sorry, right?”

The labs are inconclusive. The attending hems and haws before finally asking you to schedule a stat ultrasound of his abdomen, and you manage to bump him to the front of the queue, pulling a few strings here and there by rattling off some bullshit about being higher priority.

In the time it takes for the tech to get to two sixty-eight with the machine, you get a new admission. Intubated, but awake, and getting them and their family squared away takes longer than you would have liked, the patient’s middle-aged husband a wreck of nerves and worry, the kind of anxiety that makes you sit with him in the room for a little while, patting his hand and promising that you’ll be there for them, every step of the way.

By the time you step out of that room, it’s been nearly an hour. You catch a glimpse of Simon in the chairs outside two sixty-eight, and you throw him one of your best work smiles, hoping to reassure him, soothe his nerves. You want to go to him, want to sit beside him and talk him through everything, the outcomes, the possibilities, but you still need to add the notes for your new admit, and-

Someone catches your eye from the end of the hall. It’s a man, white, with brown hair, in regular clothes, and he stands taller than the others around him, shoulders rolled back just- just like-

No. You force yourself to look, to truly see him, taking in his facial features, the slope of his nose, and it’s hardly a second before you’re realizing it’s not who you thought it was. It’s not him. 

The second doesn’t matter to your heart. It’s already racing, tripling it’s steady pace inside your chest. You’re shaking, trembling in the middle of the hall, frantically looking for the nearest closet, or empty room, or…

Stairwell. There’s a stairwell just beyond where Simon is anxiously waiting, and you beeline to it, nearly tripping over your own feet past him. You think you hear your name being called, but the blood rushing in your ears is too loud, and you can’t be sure. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters right now is getting away. Hiding. Not letting yourself be noticed.

You take the first flight down, stopping on the landing to rest your face against the polished, cold wall, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air, encouraging yourself to breathe.

It wasn’t him. You’re safe. 

Deep breath. You can do this. 

Your fingers dig into your hips, squeezing through the numbness, through the overwhelming feeling of your impending doom, and your head swims, lightheadedness nearly knocking you off balance.

“It wasn’t him.” You whisper aloud. “It’s not him. You’re safe. Get it together.” You chant, eyes clenched tight. Your heart is still pounding, no sign of relenting, and your lungs burn, screaming inside you, desperate for air. The feeling of suffocating, of dying, grows stronger, gaining momentum, and your eyes slam shut, your mind and body locked in a tomb of panic and fear. 

You hear your name again. It’s sharper, authoritative, but you can’t open your eyes, too overwhelmed to even make sense of it. Deep breath, just breathe.  

Something touches your shoulder. It’s unexpected, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you register it as gentle, but you’re too far gone, too far buried beneath your fear and your panic and your shame. It triggers you into a defensive posture, and you flinch so hard you jostle yourself into the wall, turning into the corner, hands out in front of your face.

“Hey, hey.” It’s Simon. Simon is standing in the stairwell with you, palms open, concern heavy in his eyes, and you vaguely realize he’s talking, soft, deep words washing over you. “-to breathe?” He comes closer, only half a step, but it’s enough to startle you back into the corner, and he stops short. “It’s alright. I’m not going to touch you.” He soothes, and you recognize the pitch, the calm, affectionate tone from Johnny’s bedside. Sour nausea surges in your stomach, and your lungs fight the invisible hand that tightens around them. “Can you take a deep breath?” You shake your head, and he huffs a soft chuckle. “You can do it, just try. Through your nose, like this.” His chest expands, eye contact never breaking, and you try to follow suit, getting halfway before your head spins, vision tunneling. “You’re alright.”

You’re not alright. None of this is alright. You’re having a panic attack, in the stairwell at your job, in front of a patient’s partner. 

You can’t speak, so you shake your head instead. No.

“Yes, you are.” He assures. “Everything’s okay. Focus on your breathing. Try another one for me.” His hand covers his heart, and you focus on the way it ebbs and flows with the movement of his diaphragm, the pace of his breaths.

You manage to get one full inhale and exhale. And then you get another. Then a third, a fourth, until it’s coming easier, and your head doesn’t feel as fuzzy.

“Good job, that’s it.” Your fingers twist together, the grating noise of your jagged breathing smoothing out even more, and Simon nods encouragingly. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nice and slow.” Sweetheart. The word is bright, boundless and sweet as honey, the sentiment settling in your belly and growing warm. The two of you stand there, just breathing, staring at one another, for what feels like an eternity, until you find the strength to summon words. 

“I-I’m sorry.” You finally choke once you’ve got a better handle on yourself, hands going lax at your thighs.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” You’re about to brush it off, thorny lies starting to form in your mind, excuses and carefully crafted explanations fusing together when your work phone beeps, the low frequency different from the ones related to patient care. Shit. Already? Simon’s glances at it in your pocket and cocks his head.

“End of my shift.” You explain, moving towards the stairs, your hand trembling on the button to silence the alarm. The muscles in his neck flex, molars grinding together.

“Still feeling a little shaky?” He observes, and you look down to your feet, mortification crawling up your spine, blooming across your cheeks through heated blood vessels.

“Um…”

“Would you mind, maybe sitting with Johnny for a bit?” You do still have notes to do. “If his test is done? I have to run home, help the Prices' put Penny down. She’s been a bit fickle, lately. Missin’ her Da.” He rubs the back of his neck, chest flexing inside the charcoal grey hoodie, and for a weird, too long second, you wonder what it might be like to fall asleep there, or just close your eyes for a minute, even though it's something sweet and far away, unobtainable in every facet. Simon says your name, jogging your attention, and then takes the first step, partially turning like he wants to reach for you, but thinks better of it.

“Uh. Yeah, I… I can.”

You badge out and grab your stuff, keeping your tablet so you can complete your notes while you sit with Johnny. You’ve already checked his results, and when you slip inside the room, the attending is updating them, explaining how he has a very small bile leak, and will need an endoscopic procedure tomorrow morning.

The attending excuses himself, giving you a quick nod, and then Simon leans down, knocking their foreheads together tenderly. 

“Keep an eye on him, I hear he likes to make trouble.” Johnny smiles, pink-red color creeping up his neck into his cheeks, and Simon seems like he’s smiling, before he turns serious. “Behave. I won’t be too long.”

“I always behave.” He pats the side of the bed, beckoning you, and you shake your head, plopping down in the recliner to his right.

“I hear ye’re keepin’ me company, pretty girl?”

“I am. Got some notes to finish, heard this chair was pretty comfortable.” You quip back easily, and it feels natural, to be joking and laughing, to be hiding again.

“Well, I’ll try not to distract ye then.”

Your tablet clicks dark with a satisfying shutter, and when you place it face down, Johnny gives you one of his stupidly handsome smiles. “All finished?”

“Yeah, not too bad.” His phone vibrates against the tabletop, and with his good hand, he opens the message, turning it to show you the screen. It’s a picture of Penny, half asleep against Simon, clad in a pink onesie covered in little ducks. Her cheek is squished against him, long baby lashes fluttering on her skin. “She’s so cute.” You say, and he nods, flushed with pride. You glance at the contact name, Lou, and before you can stop yourself, a question bursts out: “Who’s Lou?”

“Our captain’s wife. She’s been helpin’ a lot, with Pen. Which is great, they’re getting a lot of girl time.”

“Your captain?”

“Aye.”

“Is that…” you want to ask but trail off. You don’t want to admit that you’ve heard gossip about them.

“Military. Simon an’ I work together, in a task force.” A task force. A task force sounds eerily close to special ops, and your nausea comes back with a vengeance.

“What… what kind of task force?”

“Global ops. Anti-terrorism, domestic threats, the lot. How I ended up here, with ye.” The image of your ex looms, his body tense in his gear, or the memory of his boots, sitting shiny by the door, one of them pulling back, swinging towards your stomach. “Bun?” Bun?

“Huh?” you blink. “Oh, sorry. Spaced out there for a second.”

“That’s alright. Simon said ye had a bit of a scare earlier?”

“No I uh, just couldn’t catch my breath, but I was fine. It was fine.” You deflect, moving on as quick as you can manage. “Did you call me bun? And… didn’t you call me bunny, earlier?” He gives you a sheepish look.

“Aye. Is our nickname for ye.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Well… ye look a bit like a bunny, and ye had that sticker the other day that Penny noticed.” Your face heats. “I know ye’re probably real soft like a bun, too.” Real soft? Is he… does he mean- your eyes widen, and he smirks.

“Johnny.” You flounder, helplessly, confused by his attention, this flirtation that seems to have grown into real affection, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward, reaching for your hand.

“Ye dinnae need to be afraid.” He coos. The words are a moon above a tide, pulling and reaching, dragging the swell of the waves higher and higher, until they threaten to pull you under, overwhelm you and drown you.

“I…” I don’t understand? I thought you were gay? I don’t know what is happening here? Johnny grimaces, and you immediately forget about the conversation and leap into action, jumping to your feet. “What is it? Where’s your pain?” Your hands hover over his belly, and he points to where his liver currently sits, slowly leaking inside his body, spilling bile that could eventually kill him if it hadn’t been caught. You pull down the blanket, unsnapping his gown to push it aside, checking for anything physically observable, site swelling, a rash, anything. “Does this hurt?” You cautiously press down, tapping slightly, watching his face for a reaction.

“No.” he says, and when you reach over to his other side, turning to watch his facial expressions, he moves with you, barely leaning, chin pointed in your direction.

His face is suddenly incredibly close to your face. And he looks… so handsome. So pretty, with his bright blue eyes and perfect bones, soft lips that part with an inhale. He dazzles you. Distracts you.

This is your patient, get it together. You’re a professional, act like it. 

“Does that hurt?” You croak, and his lips quirk into a half smile, a warm palm gliding over the small of your back.

“It doesnae hurt, bun.” He winks.

“Oh my god, were you faking?” You try to stand up, but the pressure on your spine is firm, and he chuckles.

“Can I tell ye a secret?” He’s fully serious now, question whispered just above your ear, and you nod.

“Of course.”

“Ye’v been drivin’ me mad today, pretty girl. Walkin’ around here wit’ no panties on.” Oh. Oh… my god. You shoot upwards, hand covering your mouth in shock, and he laughs, raising an eyebrow before his gaze drifts over the curve of your hip.

“Johnny!” you hiss, scandalized, and then guilt hits you like a train, like two tons of rocks have been dropped on top of you. Simon. “Johnny, you… you and Simon, you’re-“

“We’re lucky ye’ve come into our lives.” He finishes, and you frown, confused. “We think ye’re really special.” We. We?

“What did I miss?” Simon says from the doorway, and you jerk, stepping back like Johnny’s bed is on fire and you’ve just been burnt, eyes wide and wild. You feel like a child, caught with a hand in the cookie jar, but Simon doesn’t look angry. Just curious.

“Jus’ talking.” Johnny replies, and he starts to lower his bed, watching you with heavy eyes.

“Well. I should get going. I’ve got a few trains to make.” You glance at the clock, and then give them both a polite smile. Simon crosses his arms.

“Looks like you tired him out.” He comments, and they glance at one another, some sort of communication happening silently before he shrugs. “Let me drive you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s not… you just got back, and I’m fine, really. It’s not that far, I-“

“If it’s not that far, let him drive ye.” Johnny pipes up, and Simon piles on easily. 

"He's not going to let this go, and neither am I. Let me get you home safely, please." You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. "It's the least we can do." Your shoulders slump in defeat. It’s just a ride. It’s not crossing a line.

“Okay, then.” Johnny smiles, and Simon moves to his side, brushing his mask covered mouth against his forehead.

“She go down okay?” Johnny murmurs, tenderly cupping his cheek. 

“Like a champ. Promised I’d bring her tomorrow morning. Think she understood me.”

“Aye. She’s smarter than ye, so probably.” He teases, and they share a lighthearted laugh before Johnny’s bidding you a goodbye, and Simon directs you out the door.

“Uh, right here is fine.” You point to the curb, and Simon slows the car to a stop, turning to face you with that ever-present scrutiny, brows shoved down above his eyes.

“A hotel?” You swallow.

“My um, my flat is being renovated. It’s a whole thing so I just figured I wo-would stay somewhere else.” You want to flee, run out of this car and away from him, but he holds you in place so easily with just his eyes, so you sit there, frozen, one hand on the door handle, the other splayed against your thigh.

“Is everything alright? Earlier-“

“I’m fine.” You rush out, cutting him off. It’s well practiced, the denial, the avoidance, these things that you normally excel out.

But nothing is normal with them. 

He cocks his head, and then nods, and you breathe a little easier, turning to push the door open.

“Wait.” A hand tugs at you, thick, warm fingers lightly touching your wrist, and you whip back around to face him, eyes wide. “If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” Why is your heart beating so fast? 

“Oh, I uh… I’m fine, I don’t need-“

“That doesn’t work on me. Johnny either, pretty girl.” He tells you, and it’s so firm, so strong backed, that your mouth goes dry, and you gape at him. What? What doesn’t work? Is he… is he saying he doesn’t buy it? Doesn’t believe you? He’s reading your mind, subtly raising an eyebrow, and then nodding. “Put my number in your phone.” He instructs, and like a robot, like a vampire’s Thrall, you pull it from your bag, swiping open the contact list and pressing each number in the order he gives it. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks once you’re finished, and you mumble a shaky yes, finally pushing the door open, and climbing out.

“Alright, well. Good night.” You bend at the waist, giving him a wave through the window, and his jaw moves beneath the mask, shifting to the side, eyes squinting at the corners. He's smiling. 

“Good night, bunny.”