Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

cherry - lana del rey

love (yeah), i said real love is like feelin' no fear
when you're standin' in the face of danger (hey)
'cause you just want it so much…

“I could use you.”

They’re words that pull you out of the drunken haze for a moment; just enough to squint blearily into gunmetal grey eyes that glint cold like bullets on wet cobblestone. You think this guy’s name is… Shi-something? It wasn’t quite clear, mumbled between tongue and teeth. He’s hot enough, and you’re still reeling from the tail-end of your fresh break-up, so it’ll do. Not like you can see straight anyways. Flopping onto your bed, you lay down backwards in a spread-eagle pose, silently beckoning him forwards with your finger.

He was friendly, from what little conversation you can recall, and kind, paying for the taxi ride home to your apartment. He must be a good enough person since your corgi hasn’t chased him out of the house. Your loyal pet is sleeping outside in his bed; you wouldn’t want him to see you like this anyways. Your stomach’s still turning from the ride and the drinks, but he seems to settle the sick just by placing a hand on your skin. In place of the nausea rose an indescribable warmth. He slid his hand down your wrist, agonizingly slowly. You wrapped your legs around his waist impatiently, pulling him forwards.

“C’mon, Shi-somethin’,” you slurred shamelessly, face bright red. “We’re not here to hold hands and sing Kumbaya.”

He chuckled. “My name is Shigure.”

“Okay, Shigure.” You sat up, grabbing onto his shoulders to haul yourself up to his face. Whispering, you enunciated clearly: “fuck me already.”

Either he kissed you or you kissed him; you weren’t sure. The two of you melted into each other before you felt his tongue force itself into your mouth, hungrily swiping the inside of your cheek. It tasted of sweet sake. The fire behind your navel blazed with delight. His cologne was gentle, unlike what’d you expect from the usual cohort of college-aged boys. It smelt of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but it was masculine and comforting. The scent wrapped around you with a pleasant warmth that consoled the searing heat that ripped through you when his hands dug under the hem of your crop top, easily sliding up the exposed skin to your lacey bra. You clawed at his kimono. You had first approached him because it was strange for people to be wearing traditional Japanese clothing in public in this day and age. Secondly, he was gorgeous in it. Thirdly, it’d look even better on your floor. His shoulder slipped free, broad and lean. Unable to contain your impatience, you whimpered.

“Whatever shall I do with you?” he whispered, raising a knee into the vertex between your legs. You flung your head back into the bed, groaning at the pleasure of him grinding that delicious pleasure into that over-sensitive bundle of nerves. It had been far too long since you’d gotten laid and you might just come at the slightest touch.

Shigure took advantage of the moment to peel the skin-tight top off your body, exposing the rest of the skin. You reached to free his other arm from the kimono only to have him catch your wrist in mid-air. Tutting, you realized he was smirking at you.

“You’re being too grabby.”

“You’re being too slow.”

“That’s no good,” he all but purred, his large hand tightening around your arm. You winced reflexively. “Do young people these days know nothing about discipline?”

You squirmed uncomfortably, the friction at your clit having disappeared. Shigure’s eyes gleamed brightly in the dark.

“Hey,” you whined. Your face was flushed hot and you could feel your pulse rocketing in your gums. You’d definitely be feeling that demonic whiskey-vodka concoction tomorrow, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now, you just needed to be railed into a good night’s sleep, but your one-night stand was being a goddamn tease.

“Hold still and be a good girl.” He finally let go of your hand. You watched as he undid the obi at his waist, the fabric having a gold sheen to it. Mesmerized, and too drunk to do anything but follow instructions, you didn’t realize what he was doing until he had done it—your wrists bound above your head, not tied so tightly you couldn’t feel your fingertips, but enough so that you wouldn’t be able to free yourself.

“Are you some kind of deviant?” you asked, though you weren’t actually bothered. Shigure licked his lips, exposing oddly sharp canines.

“Maybe.”

Finally, he grabbed you by the crooks of both knees, sliding you forwards on your sheets. With quick work he unzipped your skirt, pulling it and your panties off in a fluid motion. Threads snapped in the urgency. Your nerves fired in anticipation. The kimono had finally fallen, revealing the man’s slender, sexy figure. His cock was hard, tenting in the black underwear. Despite sweating because of the heat, you shivered. He kissed you, tongue swapping with tongue, not relenting even as you struggled to get enough air into your lungs. When he broke away, you felt spit trail after. Your tongue lolled out of your swollen lips. You’d never felt dirtier; but if you minded, it wasn’t showing.

His fingers traced a ticklish path down the inside of your thigh before arriving at the vertex between your legs. Your hips bucked with anticipation, but he held you down at the pelvis with his free hand.

“Shigure,” you complained needily. He raised his hand to his lips to shush you.

“Patience is a virtue.”

He pressed two fingers against your clitoris and you could’ve sworn you saw stars erupt behind your eyelids. Was it embarrassing to be getting off so easily? Maybe, but at least it was an ego-boost for this stranger. A staggered breath left your lips as he circled your cunt, pressing harder and harder as he did. You wriggled against him, silently begging for penetration.

“Beg.”

You cracked an eyelid open. Was he serious? His facial expression, neutral, told you that if you didn’t do as he said, he wouldn’t give you what you wanted—no, needed. Surrendering the last of your dignity (if you even had any left), you moaned.

“Please, Shigure.”

“What do you want from me? Say it.”

“I…” You bit your lip and tossed your head back in frustration. “I want you to fuck me. I want to cum, please…”

“Mm.” He pressed even harder. You were close. Holding your breath, you silently pleaded for release. “You’re so cute when you’re honest.”

“I’ll do anything,” you all but wailed, about to go insane from this edging bullshit. “I just—c’mon, please—”

“Then call me Master.”

He had leant forwards to study your face and you could feel his breath on your neck. Having nothing else to lose, you blurted it out like a prayer.

“Master Shigure, please let me come, please—ah!”

Rewarding you, he slipped two—maybe three—fingers into your wet folds all at once. They were so incredibly long and irreplaceable. He curled them, holding strong as he pumped into you. It only took a couple before you came all over yourself, back arching so hard you felt yourself pull a muscle. Panting hard, you didn’t realize that Shigure had pulled his hands free until they were in your mouth. Tasting the bitter slick wetness of yourself, you opened your eyes to meet his own.

“Precious girl,” he sighed. Touching his forehead to yours, you went cross-eyed. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” you breathed past his digits, not even embarrassed at how easily the words came. He pulled away, slipping down his boxers. You swallowed thickly when you saw his cock spring upwards through your lashes, thick and long. It was warm against your cool wetness, making you flinch as he slipped up and down your folds experimentally. Then, without warning, he bottomed you out and plunged balls deep.

“Fuck!” you shrieked, head snapping back as your arms twitched uselessly above your head. Your nails dug crescent moons into your palms, the pain not enough to ground you. Shigure was through his teasing and fucked you mercilessly, ignoring your orgasms as they cascaded through you, each larger than the last. You couldn’t quite remember, but you were pretty sure at one point you were screaming for him to stop because you couldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t listen. You felt the painless release of your sanity and surrendered to him, body held down only by his hands, your own useless above you. It was true freedom to lose control of yourself, grounded only by him. For a short moment it felt like you only existed because of him.

The cum was hot and foul painted on your stomach. Your wrists were bruised in their efforts to break free of restraint. You gasped for breath, struggling to put together the pieces of your strewn-about sanity as you stared up at the ceiling.

“You are a deviant,” you rasped when you’d gotten your voice back. The neighbours wouldn’t be pleased with you.

He chuckled warmly. “Maybe; but aren’t you?” Releasing your wrists from their hold, he slipped the obi back around himself. If not for the messy hair, he could look relatively normal. You almost resented him for getting you all fucked out before waltzing away like nothing had happened. You eyed him tiredly.

“See you again?” you called when you heard him at the door, the noise enough to wake you from the sleep you had started to drift off into. This was your first time meeting Shigure Sohma. It wouldn’t be the last, no matter how much you wished for it to be. Cracking open an eye, you saw his silhouette looking back at you at the doorway, poised to leave. He hummed, and you began to learn to dread the word.

“Maybe.”

…a touch (yeah) from your real love
is like heaven takin' the place of somethin' evil (hey)
and lettin' it burn off from the rush, yeah, yeah (fuck)!

Chapter Text

darlin', darlin', darlin'
i fall to pieces when i'm with you, i fall to pieces (bitch)
my cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme

“This is because you never answer my texts!”

“I know,” you apologized, hopping around the washroom in an attempt to get your stockings up. “I’m sorry!”

“Ugh,” Kinu whined, her voice tinny over the speaker. “How late are you going to be?”

“I’m literally just leaving right now,” you lied. Grimacing, you did some mental calculations with high liberty. “I’m just going to need like half an hour.”

“But you’re coming, right?”

“Definitely! I just slept in. You guys go ahead, and I’ll meet you there.”

She sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you when I’m there—I promise!”

“I’m holding you to it.” With a click she ended the call, allowing you to fish a bra out of your hamper. Sniffing it, you figured it was good enough and got fully dressed. To be fair, this debacle was entirely your fault. The narrator’s voice on that deep-sea documentary you’d put on to pass the time until the party had just been too soothing, and before you knew it, you were already running late.

Your beloved corgi was sitting at the door, thinking you were rushing to take him out. Poor guy. “I’ll walk you tomorrow,” you assured, sticking your toes into the first pair of heels you saw. Ruffling his fur between the ears, you headed out. You were thankful that you and your girlfriends had already coordinated costumes for this Halloween party ahead of time. God knows what kind of mess you’d show up in if you had to think it up all by your lonesome.

Maybe it’s not healthy of you to be rushing from party to party. Your thighs are still healing from last week. Shigure. In and out like a fucking tornado. You never saw him again and you never wanted to. You let him tie you up? It took all you had to resist a mental cringe as you hustled into a taxi. You and your ex had broken up just that last week, and already you were mourning over another man. Nobody was ever going to fuck you that good again—if you could help it. If you loved yourself more, you might try seeking out professional help. For now, alcohol would do just fine as a pseudo-therapist.

The driver would certainly be getting a 5-star rating after the risky maneuvers he pulled to get you to the party in fifteen minutes flat. Good thing you didn’t pre-game or it’d be all over this poor man’s interior. Thanking him, you finally stumbled inside the glitzy house, the ground already rumbling beneath your feet with bass.

You didn’t know the host well, only knowing he went to the same college; you doubted he’d even heard of you. Squeezing inside, it already felt like the air was being suffocated by the sheer mass of people. The living room had been turned into a club, shadowy bodies shifting through neon lights and psychedelic swirls of smoke. The lively thrum made you feel familiar adrenaline start to sweep through your veins. Time to drink your sorrows away.

You should probably look for Kinu and the other girls, but you wanted to get your hands on something boozy first. Ignoring the jostling of elbows and feet, you pushed and shoved your way through the crowd towards a room that you hoped would be the kitchen. On the marble counter lay the treasure hoard of goods, sparkling, and better yet—unguarded. You happily snatched up a half-empty bottle of what looked to be an imported whiskey. Score. Uncapping it, you raised the hefty bottle to your lips only to have it suddenly disappear from your hands.

“What the hell?” you snapped, looking around for the culprit. Nobody was in front of you. Scowling, you whirled around. “That was mine—!”

Shigure. Oh no. He waved a finger at you like you were a naughty child. You felt yourself physically blanch. Out of all people to run into?

“I thought I’d find you here. You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your face flushed hotly, and you had never felt more self-conscious. “How can I avoid somebody I hardly even know?”

You had no memory of taking down Shigure’s phone number, but his name popped up when he called you the day after ‘the incident’. You blocked him immediately. One night stands are meant to be one night. Besides, there was something about him that you knew wouldn’t be good for you. You seemed to be the type to attract trouble, after all. Him being here was only proving your suspicions true.

“Let’s talk outside,” he shouted, and you struggled to hear him over the music. He held out a welcoming hand. You didn’t want to take it. You knew you shouldn’t. But his eyes told you that he’d stand there forever until you did, so begrudgingly, you grabbed his palm and let him lead you out the back door.

The brisk October night air was cool on your skin. It was quieter out here for sure; people smoke or drank and had muted conversations around the pool. You shivered, eyeing Shigure now that there was actual light. He led you behind a corner, walking you towards a shed.

“A dog? How original.” You scoffed, trying to put a knife through the tension that was choking you up. He reached up, thumbing the dollar store headband like he’d forgotten they were even there. He was still wearing traditional clothing, the kimono black this time to match his stupid ears. You were glad he didn’t have a tail.

“You look gorgeous yourself.” Cocking his head, he admired you to the point where it felt like his hands were razing over your bare skin. “Black and gold suits you.”

Exhaling sharply, you crossed your arms over yourself. What were you doing here? Casual chit-chat with a fling was not on the agenda. You never expected to see Shigure again, so being pitted against him felt like a waking nightmare.

“What do you want? If it’s anything about that night, then like I said, it was a one-time thing. Period.”

“Oh, is that so?” he simpered. “That’s not what you told me then. If I recall correctly, you were begging at my feet—”

“One time thing,” you interrupted caustically, your cheeks already red from the shared memory. “Just leave me alone.”

“I’ll have to humbly decline. See, you and I made a promise. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Paralyzed, you were unable to move when he reached forwards, slipping his fingers through your messy hair. Only when you felt the pads of his fingertips on your chin did you find the sense to knock his hand away. Your heart raced in your chest.

“Whatever I said back then, I clearly didn’t mean. I was obviously drunk out of my mind. Sorry if you misunderstood, but I don’t want to see you again.”

“I said I wanted to use you. You said you wanted to be used. It’s a fair trade.” His voice was cold all of the sudden. Serious. He stepped forwards and you stepped back. “I need a muse. You’re it. I’m not letting you get away from me so easily.”

You gulped. Having an argument like this with a man in dog ears—how pathetic. “Stop. I’m telling you no.”

“Are you really?” His hand snaked around your waist. Pushing you back with a firm step, you gasped when he forcibly shoved you against the wall, air slammed out of the bases of your lungs. He had you trapped. If you screamed, somebody around the corner might notice you and come to your rescue. Shigure didn’t cover your mouth and he didn’t look like he was going to. But you remained silent, lip quivering, eyes wide as Shigure’s own scanned your face. Your eyes flashed when Shigure’s other hand dipped, pushing past the skin-tight fabric of your shorts.

“Here—?!”

“Shh. Don’t want anybody to notice us, do you?”

You bit hard onto your lip as his fingers pushed past your panties, rubbing hard against your already-swollen clitoris. If you were drunk, you could’ve blamed it on that. But you weren’t. You were perfectly sober, perfectly capable of pushing him away or telling him to stop, but… you didn’t. There was a way he kept looking at you. He called you his muse. It was reverence, the way he touched you, lathered affections upon you—it made you feel so special. You knew it was stupid. And yet you’re still about to cum in your pants, a hand clamped over your mouth to shut yourself up. His fingers curled deep.

“Good girl.”

Panting hard, you had to lean on him for support as your legs wobbled in precarious shoes. Shigure pulled his hands out of your pants, eyeing his slick fingers. You glared back at him tearfully, clinging to the sleeves of his kimono.

“So are you ever going to remind me of this ‘promise’ I made?” you seethed, hating yourself for being so easily manipulated.

“I think you get the gist. You let me have my way with you. I keep you happy. Like I said… it’s a fair trade.”

His grin is so toxic. All men are dogs; you know it well. Better than anybody: trust no man.

But you’re young and dumb and god, he’s so fucking hot. He makes you feel like you’re being boiled alive. He makes you feel so good. It’s a mistake unravelling by the seams, and you’re the one holding the knife.

and all of my peaches (can i get a fuckin' hallelujah?)
are ruined (bitch) (lookin' at me like a magazine)

Chapter Text

love (yeah), is it real love?
it's like smilin' when the firin' squad's against ya (hey)

A strike, hot across your skin. “I asked you a question.” Your flesh burnt as if branded by an iron. Your head was spinning from the euphoria; you didn’t answer him quickly enough.

“I said: who do you belong to?” He grasped your hair hard, forcibly wrenching you back to look at him. Your eyes welled with tears, his dark expression swimming in it like lavender oil in a bath.

“You,” you choked out, sickeningly obediently. He released your face, allowing you to plummet back into your pillows like Lucifer from the steps of Heaven before ramming you hard. You arched your back in an attempt to find stability, because if you didn’t hang on, Shigure was going to fuck you blind. Your screams were hardly muffled in the wrinkled mess of sheets beneath you. You lost track of time and self and sanity.

It wasn’t true to say Shigure was all that bad of a guy. He was much milder once he’d gotten his rocks off, bringing you a warm towel and draping it over the freshly-formed bruises. As possessive and rough as he was with you in bed, he was quite kind and polite outside of it, if not a bit of a sleaze.

“D’you want me to make you some tea?” he asked as you lay on your belly, trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah. Please.”

The weight of his body eased off your mattress and his footsteps padded out to the kitchenette. You heard the skittering of claws as the corgi excitedly tailed him around. He seemed to draw the attention of all dogs, you noticed. They adored him greatly. (If only the poor little guy knew what he was doing to you behind closed doors.) That wasn’t all you begun to realize about Shigure. He was a literature major, something you didn’t find all too strange, considering his exorbitant get-ups. He did all that to get the right “vibes”, though he was secretive about whatever it was he was writing. He was surprisingly smart, well-educated in everything, enough so that he’d probably do a clean sweep on a trivia game. He liked to talk, but never about himself; anytime you asked, the questions were always steered away so gracefully that you didn’t even realize he’d never given you a straight answer. You’ve never been invited over to his place as he always invites himself over to yours. You know nothing about him beside what he’s told you, and who knows how truthful those so-called facts are? He seems so perfect on the outside that it’s only when he’s hovering over you, dripping with sweat, face blank and tired, that you feel like you’re the only one who knows the real him.

“Be careful; it’s hot.”

As expected of a man who embodies Old Japan, the bitter matcha is whisked to a frothy perfection. You nodded sleepily as he set it by your bedside.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concerned. “I was rougher with you this time.”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” you mumbled dismissively. Reliving the memories wasn’t something you’re ever keen on doing. Pushing yourself up to a sitting position, you slipped the sheets up to cover yourself. “But I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“I do worry.” He reached out, moving to touch your hair. You flinched backwards.

“Sorry,” you muttered hurriedly, dodging his gaze. “I’ve got a lot to do today. I need to get ready.”

“Oh. All right.” Sensing that he was being kicked out, he awkwardly rose to his feet. “Take care.”

You refused to look at him, pretending to busy yourself with the matcha as he let himself out. Puppy whines at the door told you he was gone. Sighing, you put down the mug.

You’d convinced yourself that it was a purely physical, mutually beneficial relationship. The one boundary he’d allowed you to put in place was that he would never kiss you. God knows he’s found other bountifully creative things to do with his lips. Maybe he’s using you as a compliant sex experiment for his writing, but you’re the one using him first and foremost. Thanks to his distractions you’ve found yourself completely over the heartbreak your ex had dragged you through. Not that anybody would know, since you’re too afraid to tell anybody.

You love your friends. You’d die for them and they would for you. That love is the one reason you can’t bear to tell them about Shigure. They’d tell you the right thing, and you don’t want to hear it: leave him. You pretend like you’re still recovering without the aid of a fuckbuddy to ease their consciences, but what about yours? How long was he going to be your dirty little secret for?

The matcha lacks sweetness and coats your tongue in bitterness.

Shigure flops down onto your back, breathing hard as his weight settles across you. It’s strange of him to be this sluggish, you think, cracking an eye open, spying only tufts of dark hair in your peripheral. He seemed oddly distracted.

“Hey,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Looking away, you continued self-consciously. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? I’m fine.” His chest rumbles against your skin. Peeling himself off of you, he flopped to your side, resting his head on his arms. Your brow knitted together with genuine concern.

“I mean… I’m not going to tell anybody if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He opened his eyes to meet your gaze, looking slightly surprised. You’re kind of surprised yourself. For all that bluster of no emotional attachment! and we’re not even friends! you’re sounding a lot like a sympathetic girlfriend.

“Well… I guess it’s just family troubles. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

You’re even more shocked that Shigure’s actually agreeing to talk to you. Hurriedly pulling yourself up into a more professional stance, you examined his expression. He looked like he was dealing with something heavier than simple family drama.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, trying to be vague to respect his privacy, but open enough for him to continue talking.

“I…” He sighed, closing his eyes. A deep exhale. “Sometimes, it’s like I wish I had never been born.”

“Don’t say that,” you replied, so quickly you didn’t even think about it. “If you say words like that, you’ll end up believing it.”

“Some days, I do. It’s fine—you could never understand.” He was closing himself off. You felt it. Desperate to keep him engaged, you reached out and touched his face, supporting its weight in your palm. His lashes fluttered as he looked up at you.

“Maybe I won’t, even if I tried. But, y’know… even if it’s hard… I like the person you are here and now.”

“You do?” he asked, chuckling lightly. He reached up, placing his warm hand over yours. You always forgot how huge they were until they fully enraptured yours.

“I must admit,” he continued, slowly closing his eyes. “I can forget about it all when I’m here with you.”

“Come over more often then.”

His lips jumped into a sly smirk. “I’m not so sure you can handle it, little dove.”

“Well, at least let me try. I’m stronger than I look.”

“Hm.” He seemed to be drifting off, his replies shorter and further apart. You let it go and held him. Finally, you felt familiar with him—like the world was in your hands, and his name was Shigure Sohma.

The next time he came over it was like nothing had ever happened. He was still the same perky self, all sexual innuendos and raucous laughter. Even with your hands wrestled into your spine, he betrayed none of the vulnerability you’d glimpsed from last time. Had that been some sort of sex-induced hallucination?

For a little bit you tried to let it go. Apparently, you were the only one who cared that your personal intimacy was advancing. After all, you’d been the one to say there had to be a line. Him toeing it had just been a fluke. You should be glad he was pretending it didn’t happen. Less work for you.

But you couldn’t stand it anymore when he turned you over to face him.

“Shigure,” you gasped, winded as he flipped you up into his lap. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.

“If you’re going to ask me to stop, it’ll be to no avail—”

You kissed him. Before he could continue loud-mouthing about something that didn’t really matter to cover up what actually did, you kissed him. You wanted to know the real him. You were sick and tired of the image he wrote up for himself. You wanted to be the one that was really special to him; the only one he thought about. The one he could trust his own thoughts with. But you felt it immediately through the absence of feeling.

He didn’t kiss you back.

You withdrew immediately as if shocked. Embarrassment rocketed through you as you climbed off, wiping your lip with you hand as if to purge yourself of the mistake. Shigure’s expression was unreadable.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said calmly. But he was already leaving, picking up his kimono from the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Shigure…”

“I mean, I probably should be focusing on my final thesis. I’m this close to graduating, after all. And you have finals. So, it’s best we part ways now.”

Your heart was in your throat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“You’re right,” you forced out between your teeth. Already, he was trying to erase the kiss like it had never happened. He was the author of his own reality, right? You didn’t deserve to be part of it anymore. You hid the pain and nodded expressionlessly. “Better now than later.”

He opened his mouth like he might say something. You desperately wanted him to just come out with it and say it—to be honest with you for once—to show you that you weren’t just a body to him and that you had meant something important. Something, or somebody irreplaceable. But he smiled instead, warmly, and bowed.

“Goodbye. Thanks for everything.”

He left. Puppy whines at the door told you he was gone. Tears cascaded from your own eyes.

He wasn’t coming back.

and you just stay lined up, yeah (fuck)

Chapter Text

my rose garden dreams (can i get a fuckin' hallelujah?)
set on fire by fiends (sippin' on ya like a coca-cola)
and all my black beaches (can i get a fuckin' hallelujah?)
are ruined (lookin' at me like a magazine)

You are so lost, and it’s all the dog’s fault.

To be fair, you’re not familiar with this location. Your parents had moved out of your childhood home a few years ago once you’d finished college, but since you went straight into the workforce after graduating, you hadn’t found the time to visit ever since. It was a traditionally cozy Japanese suburbs in close proximity to the woods, and your fluffy friend seemed adamant on snuffling in fallen leaves. Since the inner city didn’t have much open space like this, you reluctantly went along with it, trudging after him as he followed his whims. At least, that’s what you told yourself to make yourself feel like a hero. In actuality, you just didn’t want to be home. You loved your parents dearly, but they were getting nosy, always asking about why you hadn’t brought a man home or fretting that you’d die alone. It got suffocating after a while. The questions always reminded you of your college fling.

Shigure Sohma. You’d tried to be a big girl and let him go after that night, but part of you needed real closure. It wasn’t hard to find him in the spring convocation flyer. He looked so charming in his black gown that you almost went up to him, but his cryptic smile held you back. You’d never find somebody like him again. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to.

Rapid footsteps pulled you out of your memories. Tugging your dog back onto a tighter leash so he wouldn’t jump all over a stranger, you looked around the path he’d led you down while you were distracted. Although you were still standing on concrete, the forest had gotten even darker and woodier, and both forwards and backwards looked the same. You’d totally lost the city. Hopefully you’d get cell reception…

“Excuse me!” somebody shrilled from behind. You turned to look, a frantic woman hurtling towards you at a dangerous speed. You only managed to side-step her a fraction of a second before she barreled past, skidding to a stop.

“Yes?” you asked, bewildered.

“Have you… seen a… man,” she gasped through haggard wheezes. You felt the need to remind her to breathe. “Dressed in a kimono, about this tall…?”

The mention of a kimono made your stomach turn uneasily. You hadn’t seen anybody but Shigure sporting traditional clothing like that ever since.

“No,” you answered honestly. “I haven’t seen anybody else out here. Sorry.”

“If you do, please tell him his editor is looking for him.” Picking herself back up, she wiped sweat—or maybe tears—off her face. “Please excuse me.”

She ran off in the other direction, heels pounding pavement until she receded out of ear shot. You watched her go. What a strange woman. Perhaps she thought the same of you.

A cold wind drew your attention away and you shuddered, holding your hair down as it whipped around your face. It smelt strongly of rain. The past few days had been overcast, and you’d totally forgotten to check the forecast on your way out. Looking at your phone now, you cursed when you saw that it read 100% chance of precipitation. Could you even make it home in time? Maybe you should chase after the woman to get back into the city. You needed to pull up a map. At least, you tried to, before the dog took off with a mind of his own. Your hand was slack as you rifled through your pockets, and he pulled his leash loop right out of your fingertips, racing away.

“Hey!” you shrieked desperately. Losing your dog in the wild is not something you need right now. Thoughts of hungry coyotes preying on pets infiltrate your mind as you start running. “Come back here! Bad boy!”

He’s a fast bugger for his size. You should’ve paid more attention to your cardio fitness. It’s all you could do to keep him in eyesight, but no matter how hard you pumped your legs, you couldn’t quite catch up to the leash he’s dragging behind him. You’re so focused on the ground and trying to stomp on the string that you don’t even notice the person until after you’ve crashed into them.

“I’m so sorry,” you huffed once your brain re-settled itself in your skull. Picking yourself up off the pavement, you’re glad to see the familiar straw coloured tufts of fur in front of you. Another person is lying on the ground, which is understandable since you’ve just mowed them down like an idiot. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” they groaned.

“I’m really sorry; I was chasing my dog, and—”

The first droplet of rain is heavy on your cheek. It’s like the water shocks awareness right back into you and your eyes catch on the deep green fabric. Have you seen a man dressed in a kimono, about this tall? He carded a large hand through silvery hair, shaking his head. Your dog is all over him, whining and panting with glee. You can’t say you share the same feelings to see him again.

“Shigure?”

The rain is in full downpour now, cascading down upon you in heavy sheets. You barely noticed it. Shigure looked back at you, hardly looking as if he’d aged a day.

“[Name]. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

What are you supposed to say? ‘Me neither?’ ‘Oh, what a coincidence!’ ‘Actually, I never wanted to see you again after you broke my heart, you bastard!’ But the rain is whipping into your eyes like knives now and he’s already reaching his hand out before you can figure out something witty to retort.

“Let’s take shelter at my house. It’s not far from here,” he shouted over the howling wind. You squinted at his outstretched hand. It seemed to be a cruel turn of fate to have to meet him again like this. But there was no alternative. At least, none that you were willing to take.

Reluctantly, you reached up, clasping his palm. It’s warm.

my celluloid scenes (can i get a fuckin' hallelujah?)
are torn at the seams (sippin' on ya like a coca-cola, yeah)
and i fall to pieces (bitch)
(yeah) i fall to pieces when i'm with you

Chapter Text

(why?) 'cause i love you so much (hey)
i fall to pieces
my cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme (yeah)

Rain pelted the side of the house in torrents. Despite the violence, it was eerily calming here, the old Japanese charm of Shigure’s house reminding you of why you fell in love with him in the first place.

Fell. Past tense.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll be home soon. I’m at… uh…” You snuck a peek over your shoulder, looking at the shadowy figure ghost through the shoji doors. The words were bitter against your teeth. “An old acquaintance’s house. Once the rain lets up I’ll get back myself by taking a cab or something. Yes. Okay, bye.”

Sighing, you hung up. It was nice of your parents to worry, but although they had offered to drive out and pick you up, you found yourself declining. It was an easy fix to your current dilemma, and yet… you felt like you needed to stay and sort things out on your own. Face your demons, as they say.

“I’ll get a bath started for you,” he said when you walked back into the living room, clear droplets of water beading on the ends of his silver hair as if bejeweled. You found yourself too awkward to come up with a reply and nodded silently instead, averting your gaze before they could wander the broad frame you remember all too well beneath the clinging kimono. You clenched your fists in your lap as he walked past you.

You’re a grown-up now. It’s just you running into an old acquaintance, taking shelter in his home due to unavoidable happenstance. You might as well be strangers. Nothing but a favour. There’s nothing unusual about that.

“Isn’t that right?” you whispered self-consciously to your dog, who was napping peacefully on the tatami as if he wasn’t the bastard that had caused this problem for you in the first place.

The wind and hail stones continue to drum against the walls, drowning out any and all sound. You’re eternally grateful for the white noise as it kills the ugly mess of over-thinking happening in your own head. Your shoulders slumped, and you finally allowed yourself to just relax mindlessly. It’s been a good long while before you’ve felt time slow down around you. Adulthood is never as fun as it seems as a kid.

But, as always, it isn’t long before the peace is disturbed.

“Kyo-kun!” a feminine voice cried, breaking the shrill howl of the wind. “Wait!”

You looked out past the veranda to see three figures sprinting towards the door. For a moment you’re worried about who they could be, and the corgi at your feet perked up cautiously. But it turns out they’re just high school kids, soaked from head-to-toe.

“Who would’ve thought it was going to rain this hard…”

“It’s your fault for forgetting your umbrella, moron.” An orange haired boy sulked, looking especially peevish. The girl brushed off his insult, laughing instead.

“I guess so. Silly me!”

“Who are you?”

The third one finally noticed you sitting in the living room and eyed you warily. He had lighter coloured hair than Shigure, though it’s a cool silver, and you can’t help but think they look a little similar.

“Shigure probably brought another girl home; so what? I’m getting changed. Don’t bother me again.” The orange one stomped off. The silver one raised an eyebrow but seemed convinced and turned away silently. The only one who deigned to speak another word to you was the girl, who beamed brightly as she knelt despite ribbons of brown hair sticking to her damp face.

“Hello. My name is Honda Tohru. Are you a guest of Shigure-san?”

“I, um… yeah, I guess so.” Are you? Aren’t you? You didn’t even think about it. Already you feel like an outsider. For whatever reason, you never expected to be talking to other people. Every time you met with Shigure in college for those horny trysts, he was by himself. Tohru smiled expectantly and you remembered to tell her your name.

“I’ll make some miso soup once I dry off, I think. It’s chilly out.” She got back to her feet and bowed respectfully. “Nice to meet you, [Surname]-san.” Then, she too made off to the stairs. Alone again, you felt worse than before.

Shigure probably brought another girl home. Seriously? You were just another notch on his bedpost? What a sleazebag. So much for old time’s sake—he hadn’t changed a bit. It’s all affirming your suspicions that Shigure’s the same nasty man who stomped all over your feelings, and yet, like the idiot you are, you allow him to keep hurting you.

“Hey, I heard voices.”

You jumped, forgetting that he was just a few rooms next door. He’d changed into a dry kimono, though it looked much the same as the last. The fabric hung more loosely, and his hair was still dark and saturated with water. He was wiping his hands with a towel slung around his neck and looked down at you curiously.

“Did the kids get home?”

“Um, yeah… three of them.”

“So you met them. That’s good.” He sat before you, toweling off his hair. “The two brats are my cousins. The third is a little bird I’m sheltering. Poor girl lost her parents and her home, you see.”

A pang of guilt and embarrassment hit you. An orphan. To think you were jealous over a high school girl… you don’t exactly feel like a model adult.

“That’s nice,” is all you can manage to say.

“The bath’s ready,” he continued easy-goingly, and it felt like you didn’t even need to reply in the first place. “Second door on your left. I left a change of clothes for you, though they might be a bit big.”

“…thanks.” You got up and looked down at the dog, who had already gone back to sleep, short legs sprawled.

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Shigure suddenly crossed the table and sat beside you, so close that if you tipped over you could fall right into his arms. He ruffled the dog’s belly, and you saw a pink tongue loll out with satisfaction as he licked his lips. Damn traitor.

“Excuse me, then.” You got up and left them be, miserably retreating to the bath. As promised, a neatly folded kimono sat on the counter. Great, you’ll be matching with him. How quaint.

It was a relief to strip the cold clothing off of you, though, and for a moment you allowed yourself to fully wallow in your self-deprecation. You avoided looking at your naked body in the mirror. Sinking into hot water, you wished you could just keep sinking and dissolve. If only you never came back home at this time. If only you hadn’t been on that path. If only you could’ve just kept going without meeting Shigure again.

“I made you some tea. I hope it’s to your liking.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sitting on your knees at the small table. He had moved from the front room into what looked like his office, kneeling at a writing desk. Pencil in hand, he was writing something intently. Your matcha bubbled peacefully within its beautiful ceramic cup. Looking up, you watched as your own pet acted as his lapdog, ignoring you entirely as he panted happily. So much for a dog’s loyalty. You took a courtesy sip, but the bitter flavor reminded you all too much of the past, and you couldn’t stomach it despite the delicious taste.

“I take it you actually became the writer you always wanted to be,” you said, unable to stand the silence. The rain was starting to taper off, reduced from a relentless pour to a lighter drizzle. You hated that you remembered such details, but it was hard to avoid when you kept seeing his name in common bookstores. At the time you didn’t believe it was that Sohma Shigure, but now, surrounded by the mountain of books in this office, you’re pretty sure you can put two and two together.

“I guess I did,” he laughed humbly, smiling down at his page. “Though some of my best publications aren’t even under my name.”

“I didn’t think your smut would take off,” you remarked sarcastically, though you really were impressed with how successful he was. He was nothing like the air-headed dreamer he was back then. “I should’ve gotten your autograph back then and made myself a fortune.”

“I was thinking of giving you this, actually. I pulled it out for you while you were in the bath.”

He closed what he was writing in and passed you a medium-sized stack of papers bound by rings. Looking at the front, you could tell it was a manuscript of sorts. Edit marks in frenzied pen marred the battered pages, and you could tell it had to be old and well-worn. The title was simply Cherry.

“What’s this?”

“My first manuscript. Something very dear to me. It’s something I’ll never publish.”

“What?” You looked up from thumbing through, feeling all of the sudden as if you shouldn’t be touching something that valuable. “Why not?”

“Read it,” he gestured, placing the pencil down. He took a sip of his own tea and began to watch you, turning the cup in his hands. Feeling pressured under his gaze, you reluctantly flipped back to the first place.

She smells of orange blossoms, honey dewed upon warm Eastern winds in spring.

“What’s it about?” you asked, impatient. Shigure scoffed in amusement as if expecting it.

“Read a little more.”

I look upon her at the side so that she may not see me watching. I see the ocean in her eyes; stars swimming it, trapped as if in nectar, and I feel the same, in an understanding of why flies die drowning in honey.

When I take her hand, I map the veins beneath her golden skin. They are flush, full of the naivety of young sapling leaves blossoming in the face of sunlight. She is summer in each breath. With the exhale I feel alive.

I want to fill my mouth with her name. I want to let it fall from my mouth in its sweetness. I want to taste it always, myself alone. My selfishness as a man does not allow me to forgive the others that speak it, slurring it, tarnishing it. I can think of it always. Trace it upon my flesh always. Move my tongue to lavish her always. And yet it’ll be more than me always, be my always, never enough always. Beloved, it sings as a mountain creek gurgles, watermelon scenting estival air, sake seeping into blood from the mouth. I want to love her always. I am, I am, I want to scream it to the heavens that I Am! For she is here with me, and I fear I might lose her as cherry blossoms are lost so fleetingly, swept away. And then what would I be? I am nothing without her. My

You feel your heart stop when you see your name in his scarily-neat handwriting. You can see him smirking out the corner of your eye. He was waiting for that reaction.

“You…”

“It’s a bit saccharine, I know. Can’t say if it’s half-decent or just a young man’s trashy love letter, but I’ve been waiting a while so that I might be able to give it to you.”

“I… I can’t take this.” You dropped it down onto the table as if it were poisonous, shaking your head. “If it’s that important to you, Shigure, I can’t take it.”

“I want you to have it.” He slid it across the table back towards you. You recoiled, your heart racing in your chest. A love letter? What kind of… you never expected to read such beautiful writing from him, much less have something like that be about you. Shigure smiled as if he was never the one to ruin you. As if he wasn’t the one who had irreparably broken your heart on a trivial Tuesday night, as if nothing had ever mattered to him, as if nothing had ever been real. No—how dare he? How dare he say all these things about loving you now when you had been crying into your pillows every night, mourning something that never even was because of his own cowardice—

“You’re crying.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Your corgi has finally come back to you, whining concernedly as he lapped salty tears off your chin wetly. You pet him reassuringly, sniffling pathetically, not even able to lie to a dog that you were okay. Your whole world felt like it was splitting apart, and for what reason? One single man? This is all too pathetic of you.

It’s worse when you start to cry into Shigure’s shoulder.

“Why did you just leave me like that then?” you whimpered between sobs, hating that you’re losing control of yourself. God—he always does that to you. He always unwinds you, splitting you apart, making you his.

“I was afraid,” he admitted, soothingly rubbing large warm circles on your back. You can’t see his expression, buried deep into his pine scented chest, but you can see the sad smile on the backs of your eyelids as if staring at him right in the face. “And I made a mistake that I’ll regret forever. But then you came back today, and I thought… maybe fate is kind to me after all.”

You pulled back, needing to know what he was feeling or thinking, but he stole the opportunity by kissing you. You were snotty, wet from crying, but he held the base of your neck to trap you in place. His tongue leveraged against your lips slowly, passionately, powerfully, and you thought you might die in his arms just like this. Painful memories of the last time you tried to kiss him haunted you. The rejection; the cruelty. But he was kissing you so hard now, as if to make up for the lost time, and you were starting to lose your mind.

“Hey, wait, what’re you—”

“Humour me,” he breathed, and his voice cracked, so vulnerably. He finally met your gaze and you saw yourself reflected back in his eyes. “Let’s revisit old times.”

“But…”

He kissed your cheek, then your neck. “I’m sure your friend here won’t mind if I steal you away for a while.”

“Y-your cousins—!” You were panicking as his hands started to slide down the over-sized collar. Your bra and underwear were still hang-drying in the bath and he knew it.

“It’s raining pretty hard,” he simpered. “The kids won’t hear—that is, if you hold your breath.”

He lay you down onto the floor before getting up, shooing the dog out of the room. He was back on you in a second, his kisses confident now, devouring you mercilessly. It was so much more different than when you had that stupid ‘no kissing’ rule. You weren’t sure when you had surrendered yourself to him, but between your ongoing mental crisis of ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ and your own raging needs burning away in your gut, you couldn’t say no. You never had been able to whenever it came to him.

“Stop,” you gasped when his mouth moved down to your breasts. He slipped the loose fabric down your shoulders, letting it bunch at your waist as he kissed each swell. His eyes flickered up to you, meeting your own.

“What, you don’t like it when I do this anymore? You used to love it. See? They’re already hard.”

Your face flushed hotly, blood rushing to your cheeks. “I-I just need a second to—mmfgh!”

His tongue traced a pert nipple, the other rolled between his delicate fingers. Damn—he remembered exactly how you liked it. The sudden rush of pleasure almost made you cry all over again. Your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him down towards your growing heat.

“Not so fast, little lady.”

He pulled at the obi, effectively undoing your clothes, and your final barrier. You shivered on the hardwood, feeling exposed. How dirty of you to be going back to your college slut days, getting fucked on the floor because you couldn’t hold out for a bed. As embarrassed as you knew you should be, though, you didn’t feel nearly enough shame to stop him.

“Mm.” He kissed the inside of your thigh. “You smell just like I remember.”

“Stop saying such weird things out loud, please…”

He snickered, nose just barely brushing at the hairs raised on your sensitive skin. “What? I thought you liked my writing.”

His tongue dove between your folds before you could retort. Your head snapped back, dully thudding against the floor as you killed a moan before it could slip past your teeth. You could hear the footsteps creaking from upstairs, and it would be mortifying to have your voice slip through the vents. He had no problem eating you out, his tongue like a finger on its own as he lapped up the slick, hot cum that dripped down your cunt. You shouldn’t be this wet already, but your body betrayed you uncaringly, bucking desperately into his touch as you found yourself about to come for the millionth time. Then his fingers are in you, pumping in hard and fast and full. You’re gasping just for enough air to breath. He’s cut the soft and sweet bullshit. He ground his palm into you to get in deeper, and you just lose yourself.

“Ah—! Fuck, Shigure, I can’t—”

“Shh,” he tuts, and a slick hand presses down on your mouth. “Wouldn’t want to give the kids anything that’s not PG-13, hm?’

Defeated, you lay panting in your own clothes, only having enough energy to tug a finger at his collar. He shrugged his own forest green kimono off and you spare yourself a moment to admire the way the shadows fall on his muscular chest. You’d unfortunately chosen an emotionally repressed man to fall in love with, but at least he was hot. He swept your legs back behind his waist. You locked your ankles with anticipation.

“I’ve never forgotten you,” he suddenly whispered as he postured above you, and you wanted to scream. This wasn’t the time for his lengthy speeches. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to tug him down into a kiss so that he might shut up, but he resisted your pull to stare at your face. “I can’t believe you’re back with me.”

“Okay, nice—can we talk about it later?”

He chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re honest.”

Unforgivingly, with none of the sweet foreplay he’d provided earlier, he bottomed you out. Your eyes snapped back as your body arched high into him. This angle—fuck. You’re not going to last long.

Without pausing his thrusts Shigure bent your legs up over his shoulders. You felt like you might accidentally suffocate him between your legs as you clapped a hand over your mouth, letting your fingers muffle each scream that forced itself out your throat. You can see him above you, head bowed down as he pushes inside of you deeper each time, like he’s determined to split you open. You’re grateful you’ve covered your own mouth, because if you could speak, you might accidentally tell him you missed him too.

It’s different this time than it’s been all the rest. Though your memories are fuzzy, you can still tell he’s changed in your time apart. He moans into your ear freely now, and his forearms are stiff when you claw them for support. He’s showing himself to you fully instead of keeping something hidden or holding something back, and to you, that’s the hottest thing he’s done all night.

“Shigure-san? [Surname]-san? Are you in there?”

Your eyes flew open. Shigure paused for a second as your heart jumps out of your throat. That’s Tohru’s voice.

“I’ve finished making the miso! Will you two come out to eat?”

“Later,” Shigure chirped calmly, and—bastard—he starts to rock in and out of you. You scramble for support, bunching up the kimono fabric beneath you. “What do you say, [Name]?”

You glowered at him as he rutted into you, the wet smack so loud you were worried Tohru might’ve heard. “L-later’s fine, thank you.”

“All right. Just be sure to heat it up, okay?”

“Thanks, Tohru-chan.”

You’re so relieved when she’s gone that you let your guard down for a moment. Mistake. Shigure yanked at your feet, forcing the angle to be even sharper, and you swear he’s going to bust straight through your cervix if he keeps this up. There are actual stars in your vision. Whining, you’re just about to beg for him to stop when Tohru broke the silence again.

“Oh, also! There’s extra sliced onions on the table in case you need them.”

Shigure grinned down at you boyishly as the footsteps finally recede. He felt no guilt at all.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you hissed at him. “What if she heard?”

“Good thing she didn’t.”

Your feet keep sliding down his arms because you don’t have the strength to keep them up. Shigure hasn’t slowed his pace; it’s almost like you can feel him getting bigger inside of you every time he snuck a glance down at your face. You don’t know how much time passes like this.

“You need to come,” you whined, unable to take it anymore as your pleasure began to border pain. His hair flopped into his wild eyes. You wrestled him off of you, over-extending, and with a tangling clutter he had fallen onto his back with you balanced on top. He watched you as you opened your mouth, sliding his dark member into your mouth without another word. He flinched, his breath hitched in his throat, and you swirled your tongue around the salty taste of your own pleasure.

His fingers combed through your hair, much more gently than before. You felt his abdomen muscles tighten under the hand you lay on him to balance yourself. He was keeping himself from bucking into your throat as not to hurt you. You could tell his breathing was shaky; you could tell everything about him down here. The illusion of control was finally coming (pun unintended) back to you.

“I’m going to come,” he gasped all of the sudden, trying to warn you. You ignored it, letting spit and pre-cum dribble down the base of his cock as your dominant hand and head moved ever-faster. He dropped his head back. You felt the pulsations before his seed came to follow, powerful enough to paint his stomach as the rest spilled down your hand. You rested your head against the inside of his thigh, ignoring the foul scent of his spend as the two of you took a moment to catch your breath.

“[Name].”

He’d cleaned you up with tissues, your mouth washed out with the less bitter taste of his green tea. You were allowing him to tie your obi from the back and shuddered when you felt his breath on the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you. I was immature.”

If you were in a worse mood you might’ve told him ‘it’s too late for apologies’. But you leant back into his warm embrace, his hands circled around your waist to hold you tight, and for once you didn’t feel like he was going to let go and leave you when he thought you’d fallen asleep.

“I don’t forgive you. …yet.”

His lips brushed against the inside of your neck, draping a soft tattoo of kisses on the skin. Your hands rested on top of his.

“Stay with me tonight. Let me make it up to you.”

You looked back into his eyes. The sincerity was so foreign he almost looked like a different person. You knew you could tell him ‘no’. Easily, you could just pick up and leave, the same way he had to you. You had a life to get back to, and exhuming relics from the past couldn’t be a good idea. But he was giving you those puppy-dog eyes, and you knew you’d already lost. You sank into his body, letting him rock you left and right.

“Buy me a beer or something first.”

He smiled into your skin. “That’s my girl.”

and all of my peaches are ruined (bitch)
are ruined (bitch), are ruined (fuck)