braineater444 - Tumblr blog

braineater444 · 9 days

Text

To Be a Princess

Chpt 3

Last/Next

TW: Disordered eating, Violence, Not proofread (just tell me and I’ll correct any mistakes)

A/N: This isn’t crazy because I’m going through a lot and just want happiness for a moment lmao. Short and sweet.

Hajime munches on his own salad and watches as you finally finish separating out all of your lettuce and eat only the cucumbers and other small things. He smiles.

“The villa we bought… it’s almost done.” Hajime breaks the silence. You have no idea what he’s talking about. “Haruchiyo is going to be watching you here while Mikey and I go see the progress today.”

“Who the fuck is Haruchiyo? And why can’t I come?”

“You’ve met him before. And I just don’t want to bring you. You’ve been… difficult lately.”

So, you’re being punished? “Whatever.”

“You know, I don’t really like Haruchiyo. He’s a bit- If he wasn’t bringing Mikey I would’ve had someone else do it.”

Huh?

✮✮✮

You do recognize Haruchiyo. A scarred face with a bright pink mullet and blonde roots starting to show. The man who drugged you on your night out. Your one perfect chance to run that he didn't let you take.

“Why do they always have me doing stupid shit. I am not a babysitter.” He huffs as he falls into the plush cushion of the couch right next to you.

“Because you look like that.” You respond flatly to words that weren’t aimed at you. You’re sure you’re right, though. Look at him. Without the scars he still would look crazy.

His head turns to meet your gaze. There’s a moment of quiet consideration before his lips crack into a crooked grin. He raises his hand slowly to meet your mouth. Suddenly the nail of his thumb presses into the gash on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and make you jerk to the far side of the couch.

“At least I don’t look like you, right?” He quips and smiles to reveal unusually straight and bright teeth. “Guess that’s why you couldn’t go either.” He shrugs.

Your brows furrow.

“What did he do that for?” Haruchiyo prods. He turns his body to face you and curls up on the couch. His head rests on the cushion and he waits for you to tell the story with a closed smile and a glimmer in his big, blue eyes.

It’s a visceral thing to recall. Your face aches at the memory.

“A couple of days ago, we got into an argument.” You can’t recall what about. “I took the elevator down and he followed me, so I ran and tried to knock on the neighbors doors, but nobody answered.”

Hajime was pissed. You can still feel his hands almost pulling out your hair as he dragged you back home. The burn of the carpeted hallways against your knees and your throat raw from screaming. It never quite leaves you.

Haruchiyo snickers and shakes his head.

“When he caught me, he slammed me into the wall, so I think that’s how my lip was busted. But my eye,” You point at the black eye and cut that sits right under it. “He punched me once and his ring sliced me pretty deeply.” You can still see the anger on Hajimes face so clearly in your mind.

Haruchiyo is keeled over in tears from his laughter. It’s not that funny. At least not to you.

“Are you fucking dumb? No one lives in this place.”

It’s obvious now. No cops were called. Neighbors certainly would’ve heard your screams. But no one came to help. No one will come to help. It’s been a slow realization.

“We thought about starting to rent it out later this year but I couldn’t tell you shit about what’s going on with that. I doubt it’ll happen now, with him beating you up in the hallways and stuff.”

✮✮✮

“She can’t come to my place? Why do I have to stay here?”

You can hear bits of what Hajime is saying over the phone.

I’ll be back in the morning…I don’t trust you….

“Whatever.” Haruchiyo rolls his eyes and hangs up before Hajime finishes talking and immediately calls someone else.

“I’m stuck at Koko’s place with this girl. Come over?” He smirks at something you can’t hear. “Yeah, okay.”

✮✮✮

Ran is an objectively beautiful man. Even the absence of a soul behind his eyes adds to his allure. It’s a shame. Ran could model, but instead he’s this.

“Hajime is going to kill both of you.” You giggle as you watch Ran pour one of Hajime's favorite expensive wines into Haruchiyos mouth. It slightly overflows and starts to trail down his chin before Ran catches it with his index finger and licks it off the digit.

“He’ll kill Haru, not me. I was never here.” He speaks playfully as he turns to you. Haruchiyo sits behind him on the too big kitchen table rubbing his leg against Rans. “Open up. Your turn.”

You don’t really like Hajimes wine but you do as you’re told. Your head is tilted back and your mouth hangs open in wait, but before the splash of the dark red wine hits your tongue, you feel the warmth of Ran’s hand on your neck holding you steady.

It feels good to do something that you know will piss that man off even if it’s just swallowing down his favorite nasty drink.

After Ran takes his own swig he says something about how good the wine is, but you don’t hear it. What you do hear is his next statement:

“I would never let that happen to my face.” Both he and Haruchiyo laugh when your only response is a middle finger.

So, Ran knows he’s good looking.

Haruchiyo leans into his friends chest and Ran embraces him with the bottle still in his hands.

“Yeah, but it makes sense for Koko. Remember that uhh… The guy?” Haruchiyo looks up at Ran who’s still lost in grimacing at the marks on your face.

Ran shakes his head. “What guy?”

Haru pulls out of Rans arms to really look at him. “The blonde one? With the- uhmm. The ugly hair.”

Rans brows knit closer as he tries to remember. He nods as if he’s following, but you can tell he’s still confused.

“Koko stalked him for a while. What was his name?”

“The faggot with the burn mark across his face?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, Koko- NO. Girl!” Haruchiyo turns to you with wide eyes and a smug grin. “Before you, there was this like… guy. And I don’t know if they were dating or not but they definitely broke up and- uhm…” He looks to Ran and snaps his fingers trying to remember what happened.

“Yeah.” Ran sounds much calmer. “A couple years ago, it ended between them and Koko went and beat the guy about it.” He shrugs and takes a sip of the wine. “They weren’t together, but Koko was obsessed with him so when the guy didn’t want anything to do with him he lost it.”

“I remember after that he got worse. So I think it makes sense why he’s weird now.”

Ran thinks for a moment and then nods. “They used to be best friends before they got separated, then I don’t know. I see the guy sometimes and I think he remembers me.”

It would’ve been nice to know this before getting this far in.

“You think they fucked?” Haru muses.

“I hope. For Kokos sake.” Ran scoffs.

✮✮✮

“What would you do if I tried to leave?” You can’t tell if you’re being serious when you ask and Haru doesn’t seem bothered enough to answer aloud.

He only pulls up his shirt just enough to flash the gun tucked in his waistband. Without looking, Ran says “Be good.” And you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or Haru with the way his eyes never leave the tv screen.

“Shooting me doesn’t really seem like the solution.”

The man shrugs and rests his head on Ran’s shoulder.

“You’re too malnourished to get very far anyway.” He teases.

He’s right. You drop it.

You have no idea what movie you’re watching. It’s late and you’re a little tipsy. This is the best life has been in a while. Why run?

#Haru: What a waste of building. Beautiful building.#me changing this chapter last minute after having worked on it for a month 😿#tokyo rev x reader #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tw: violence #tw: ed

24 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 10 days

Text

Not even gonna lie… I got raped again and I’m just over it. I feel no happiness anymore and I’m tired. Sorry yall. I’ll try to finish the fic but I don’t know if that will happen. I can’t even shower or think straight. I wish I was better than this.

5 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 2 months

Note

“You might think that we hate women…” He laughs to himself as he hands you another shot. “But I hired her.” He points at the bartender. “And in many ways, I’m like a woman, too.”

my jaw dropped when i read this…. what the fuck is wrong with sanzu? also, i have to applaud you for your portrayal of bonten as actual dangerous, antisocial criminals and not mostly harmless wattpad mafia boys

Thank you! This is my first ever attempt at writing psychological horror and not just full on porn and I was so scared people would hate it or be disappointed by the lack of skin to skin contact so early on. I thought I really have to make this as realistic as possible and have good character writing. Sanzu is always fun to write for and throwing a dash of misogyny in there just felt right, yk? Like ofc the man that has lifelong beef with his little sister (spurred on by his brother, A MAN!) hates women.

#please excuse me while i write feminist literature under the guise of p*rn with plot #spoilers: they k*ll people ofc they don’t like women #Being in Bonten just exasperates every negative part of all their personalities

11 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 2 months

Text

To Be a Princess

Chapter 2

Start/Next

fem!reader x kokonoi/bonten

TW: Disordered eating, sex trafficking, drugging, violence, cannibalism, gore, heavy drinking, terrible vibes, vomit, misogyny

Your silk pajamas are soaked in sticky, wet, congealed red. You’re in Hajime’s office again, but this time the man’s lifeless body is on the floor in front of you.

A strange feeling makes its way up your spine. You have everything to do with this. Now you have to repent.

“I’m sorry.” You say over the corpse. Your eyes fill with tears, but there’s no use crying. This is the bed that you made. You must lie in it.

Bloodied shaking hands lift his head to your mouth. He’s so much lighter than a dead man should be.

“You’re pitiful. Pathetic.” Your mother’s voice rings out from behind you, but when you turn, she’s nowhere to be found. “Do it. Clean your mess.”

Who are you to disrespect your mother? When have you ever had the nerve?

The flesh of the human cheek is easier to bite through than you’d imagined. Soft. Supple. Wet. Cold. This is the only way to make up for your crime. You must consume all of him.

You chew and chew and chew. It won’t go down. You try to swallow again and again. Your mother’s screams of horror ring out from behind you, and suddenly you’re able to swallow. You gag and heave, but you’re okay.

You go back in. Same cheek, but this time, your tongue slips between meat, teeth, and gums. Blood washes over your tongue before you rip through another piece of his flesh. Only this time, he screams.

His eyes are wide open, and his horrified screams mix with that of your mothers. You back away on the palms of your hands and the balls of your feet.

“I’m sorry!”

He still yells. Your mother tells you that you are not.

“I said I’m sorry!”

The agonized screams continue.

You repeat it over and over. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m sorry!” You yell back. You’re breathless. This feels like running a marathon.

✮✮✮

Your body jerks awake, and you’re greeted by the sight of Hajime’s concerned face looming over you. He rests a soft hand on your cheek and your body stiffens.

“There’s no need to cry.” His thumbs glide under your tear-filled eyes. His words are muttered. “It’s just a bad dream.”

You nod. He plants a kiss on your cheek and pats your head. “Go back to sleep.”

It’s hard to do as he says.

You turn your body away from him, trying to settle in under the covers, but it’s too hot. You throw the blanket off of yourself and curl into the fetal position. You can feel the metal on your ankle getting colder the longer it’s exposed to the frigid bedroom air. Now it’s too cold. You sit up.

Hajime taps away at the keyboard of his laptop. He stops for a moment, then starts again. You yank at the chain of handcuffs on your ankle. It clangs against the bed frame it’s binding you to. The typing stops.

“Don’t start this again.”

“I have to pee.”

Your words are met with a sigh and Hajime closes the laptop. You watch silently as he picks up the key off of his dresser, opens the curtains, and walks to your side of the bed. His black silk pajamas glimmer in the sunlight as he kneels in front of you.

You present your chained leg to him. His hands glide across the smooth skin of your leg. His fingertips are frigid, but you have nothing to say about it. Why would you? He doesn’t care about your discomfort despite how much he feigns concern. He kidnapped you. His lips graze the skin of your shin before he plants a gentle kiss.

“I love you.” He smiles up at you.

A bitterness fills you as you say it back. The last time you refused to speak, he didn’t let you go. That was yesterday and since having to sit in soiled bed sheets for a whole day while he was out, you’ve learned better.

✮✮✮

Hajime doesn’t give you alone time anymore. Your morning piss is an affair for both of you. So is the bath.

It used to be fun when you bathed together, but in the three days since he’s taken away your autonomy, it’s morphed into a new hurdle to jump every morning and night. Today’s appeal is more of the same.

He sticks his hand under the faucet to check the water’s temperature and turns the knob to make it hotter.

“What was that nightmare about?” He asks as you watch him through the bathroom mirror.

There’s a beat of silence before you remember what he’s talking about.

“You.”

He chuckles. “What do you mean?”

“This bathing together thing. I had a nightmare about it.”

The water stops. You turn to see a tub full of bubbles.

“Why lie? Just say you don’t want to tell me.”

“I just want to bathe it alone.”

“No.” He comes toward you and unbuttons your pajama top. “Maybe one day, but not today.”

“Hajime..” He slides your shirt off of your shoulders and you watch as it hits the ground. “Why?”

“Why what?” He works down your pants and underwear.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“Why would I? I told you; I love you.”

Hand in hand, he guides you to the tub. Your feet cut through a thick layer of bubbles before hitting nice warm water.

This isn't love, and since you've been taken hostage, you're not sure it ever was, but this is the first time he's behaved in this manner.

He cleans you thoroughly but gently. Expert fingers scrub at your scalp, then wash your face, and everywhere else. When his hands touch your private areas, you are quick to startle only for him to smile and say nothing. Really, he hasn’t done anything more invasive than washing you in the days you’ve been here. You’d like to say you know he wouldn’t do something worse, but you can never know for sure anymore.

“Face mask?” He asks at the end, wrapping you in a towel. You shake your head. “Are you hungry?” You shake your head. “I think you should eat something today.”

“I don’t want to.” You shiver in your towel.

“You should. We have somewhere to be tonight.”

“We?”

“It’s a club, so I thought you should come. You can meet my friends and have a good time.”

✮✮✮

You lay silent on the bed, chained up and waiting for Hajime to get back. He’s been gone since the afternoon and now the sun is going down. Hopefully, he’s dead. Hopefully, his line of work has caught up to him and someone killed him. And if he’s dead, someone can find you trapped here and free you, or maybe they won’t. Maybe you don’t deserve it. After all, you didn’t tell anyone what he did. You’re complicit. Why should you be saved?

“I’m sorry.” This is the first thing he says when he walks through the bedroom door. “It’s eight-thirty-six. I should’ve had you ready an hour ago.”

Hajime stops in his tracks as he looks at the bedside table. All the food he left remains untouched. The strawberries he’s cut, the sandwiches he’s made, the protein bar, the plain white rice… all untouched.

“Why are you not eating?”

It’s your hunger strike. You’ll thin out until you die if he doesn’t let you go. “Because I don’t want to be here.”

A look of frustration passes over his features for a brief, easily missed second. He smiles and leans down to you. “If you don’t eat, you’re not going. This could be your last chance ever to get out of here. Do you want to miss it?”

You return his gaze with your own hardened stare. He lets you hold the silence for a moment, with an unflinching, deceptively kind smile. “One bite of everything and I will dress you and we can go.”

He’s right. This could be your last chance to escape. This time, when you do, you’ll go to the police and turn yourself in. Will he come get you from them? Probably not.

He watches with a grin as you begrudgingly take one bite of everything. When you’re done, he dresses you.

✮✮✮

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you do feel beautiful. The black mink fur coat flows down to your ankles and creates warmth in what is an otherwise skimpy outfit. The black sequined skirt and leopard print bustier offer little comfort but an undeniable amount of glamour. Your diamond studs match your diamond choker and the messy updo Hajime tried his best to make perfect doesn’t suffocate them.

Stepping outside like this isn’t like you. Especially because the heels he’s given you aren’t broken in. You’ve never worn these and they hurt. Surely, you’re ditching them when you make a break for it.

As you follow him into the club, the smell of sweat and mixed perfume replaces the crisp outside air on your face. As Hajime guides you through the crowd, a hand on the small of your back, dancing bodies part like the Red Sea. People smile and greet him with curious looks. Certainly, they wonder who you are. He explains nothing, just greets people back politely. How often does he come here?

Right past the private sections, there’s a door and behind that door is a well-decorated room. In that room, there are unfamiliar faces and Takeomi. Your abductor takes his time introducing them to you.

Mikey, you’ve seen his face on the news. This is Hajime’s boss. This is the guy that wakes him up at the ass crack of dawn to do paperwork. This frail, white-haired freak is who’s in charge. He hardly acknowledges you outside of a glance before bringing a beer bottle to his lips.

Haruchiyo has pink hair and pink eyelashes. More importantly, he’s got huge diamond-shaped scars on his lips and a tattoo on his arm that matches the one on Hajime’s scalp. He smiles, not in a polite way, but one that triggers your fight or flight.

Takeomi, you’ve met before. He nods to you. You wonder if he has a gun you can use right now. Do they all have guns? What are your chances of survival?

Rindou and Ran are brothers, with matching purple and lavender hair and with the same hanafuda tattoo sitting front and center on their necks. The same tattoo that Sanzu and Hajime have. Ultimately, you feel stupid as you realize that it’s their symbol for their little gang and it’s been sitting in plain sight your entire relationship. A wave of internal embarrassment rolls over you. Idiot.

Kanji is clean-cut with slicked-back, greying hair. He pays you no mind as he lights a cigarette and leans back into his corner seat.

Finally, Kakucho has thick black hair that doesn’t quite cover the scar that wraps around his head and through his left eye. Can he see? Not that he deserves to. Not doing work like this.

After he’s done introducing you, someone, the pink-haired one, speaks up. “You’re not gay?” Lips parted and brows pinching together in confusion. There are snickers around the room, and the longer-haired brother hides his laugh by leaning on his brother’s shoulder. “Not in a rude way. I’m just asking because I thought you were bring- “

“Haruchiyo.” Takeomi pipes up sternly. It’s a bit ironic, you think.

Hajime doesn’t give a response. Instead, he says, “You know what I’m here to do, so please get out.”

Everyone moves quickly to get out. You even hear someone huff out a “finally.” But before you can make sense of what’s going on, Hajime asserts that one of them has to watch you, and then he tells you to have fun.

A hand grabs yours and you’re being dragged to the bar before you can gain your bearings. The pink-haired one. Haruchiyo. He wants you to drink with him?

“What’s your name again?” He smiles.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right. I’m just gonna call you ‘Girl’, m’kay?”

You look around with half a mind to argue, but with the blaring music and flashing lights, who wants to? You shrug.

“Take shots with me.” His smile is so earnest.

“I can’t.”

“Somewhere to be?” He gestures with his chin toward the exit behind you. A beat of silence falls between you as his smile threatens to pull apart his scars and then his face.

“Can I tell you something?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s leaning in close enough for you to hear his lowered voice over all the commotion. “You’re not getting out of here. There’s nowhere you can run where we won’t find you, and none of us are just going to let you go that easily.”

He pulls back to see the horror on your face. That smile brightens.

Half of you wants to ask why. This has nothing to do with them. The other half wants to see if he’s telling the truth. Still, you remain, frozen on your barstool, making a face with your expensive fur coat on.

“Drink with me. You’ll have more fun.”

You do as he says.

The shots come in one after another. Not once do you see him pay? You only watch hazily as he leans over the counter, beams at the bartender, and asks for another round for the both of you.

“You might think that we hate women…” He laughs to himself as he hands you another shot. “But I hired her.” He points at the bartender. “And in many ways, I’m like a woman, too.” But he never elaborates. Just rubs your shoulder as you throw your drink back.

✮✮✮

You don’t know how many shots you take, but it’s enough to have you barefoot on the dancefloor with him. For a while, it’s like you’re there alone. The world looks so beautiful inside the club and the sweat is starting to smell sweet. You’re just moving and embracing the faux freedom you have right now.

You back your glistening body into Haruchiyo’s front. His arms wrap around your waist and you roll your head onto his shoulder. You sway.

“This is so much better than being stuck in that room,” you hum.

“He locks you in the bedroom?” He asks. You can feel his voice come from his chest as he chuckles. You nod with a dumb smile.

“Haruchiyo…” You are dizzy as the lights change. He hums. “I feel sick.”

He laughs. Fully laughs. And you do too.

“I’m gonna throw up.”

Before you know it, he’s gently guiding you through the crowd and you’re barely there for it. It all feels like floating until your bare feet are met with cold concrete and harsh rocks.

You must be outside of the back of the building. You meet the brothers there, smoking. The taller one pipes up first.

“Haru, you got anything?”

“Haru.” You repeat under your breath and giggle at yourself. He’s got a pretty name.

“Not on me. Wanna come to my car?”

You think they’re having a secret staring contest when Haru offers to go to his car. The tall man is almost smiling, and Haru is.

“Ran…” he says sweetly.

Ran.

The taller one, Ran, takes one last drag from his cigarette before dropping it and smothering it with the toe of his boot. “Rindou, please watch her. He drugged her.” He smiles without breaking eyes with Sanzu. You look between them, only to see they’ve both got shit-eating grins plastered across their face.

“You drugged me?” You look at Haruchiyo. He pays you no mind. When?

He lets you go and as you fall, Rin catches you. He lets you rest your weight against his body.

“Where are her shoes?” Rindou pipes up.

“I’ll find them later.”

Then you’re stuck with Rindou. Whoever he is.

It’s a little humiliating leaning against a man you don’t know because you can hardly stand on your own two feet. Rindou doesn’t seem to mind, though. He stands back to the wall as he smokes his cigarette.

When you try to push yourself off of him, his free hand comes to your back to push you back down. He breaks the silence with a stern voice telling you to stay.

You’re overheating, and you’ve got to go.

The next time, he doesn’t push you back down. He lets you stand on shaky legs and watches as you shrug your coat off and onto the ground.

“Where are you going?” He asks. His cigarette is gone.

“Fu-ucking leaving.” You hiccup. Your stomach growls.

“To where?” There’s amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.”

Even through blurred vision, you can see him frown. He’s messing with you.

You hobble your way back through the door you came out of. The lights on the inside are so… bright. Brighter than before. Sickening. They’re doing this on purpose.

You’re pushed around as you try to make your way through the crowd. Your stomach is rolling around inside you.

“Move.” You say to random people. They don’t hear you. They don’t care.

It’s so fucking hot inside this place. You just want out.

When you make it outside, you pause for a moment to feel the cool air. Spit fills your mouth and dribbles down your chin. Your arm comes up to wipe it away.

You don’t know which way to walk. A phone would be nice, but it’s okay. You can make it work. You can find someone with a phone later. The streets are devoid of people right now, save for a few cars driving by.

You choose a direction and walk. Stumble.

“You’re not gonna make it far on whatever he gave you.” His voice is loud and clear. It’s almost like he caused you to fall.

Your knees scrape the concrete, enough to hurt without drawing blood. You stay there, hunched over on the ground as you hear him approaching.

Rindou crouches in front of you. He smells wonderful even after a cigarette. Warm vanilla and a field of flowers. He carries your abandoned coat with him.

“You’re so cute. Like the girls I had crushes on when I was a boy. But they weren’t real.” He lifts your chin in his hand while saying it. “You are. You’re beautiful and determined and so real. It’s really hot. Especially ‘cause what you’re doing is useless.”

“Leave me alone.” Your lips quiver.

“I can’t.” That frown from earlier…it’s just his face. “I’m not going to be the one getting blamed for leaving you passed out on the sidewalk and vulnerable to all types of things.” He strokes your cheek and kisses your sweat-covered forehead.

“Are you gonna-” Tears skitter down your cheeks. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t- I can’t-” His eyes light up and there’s almost a smile showing. “I can’t be locked in that room anymore. Please. Please. Please don’t tell him.”

“I won’t tell, I promise.”

✮✮✮

Rindou waits outside the door as you vomit in the bathroom. No one is in here with you and it’s the cleanest club bathroom you’ve ever seen. Or maybe you’re just that out of it.

The sound of what is mostly bile and alcohol hitting the toilet water is sickening. It even splashes on the seat, narrowly avoiding your face. The smell is vile.

When you’re done, your stomach growls as you make your way to the sink. You’re so hungry it hurts, but if you eat, he’ll have won.

Your stud earrings have become entangled in loose strands of your hair. You take them out and admire how they glimmer under the dim bathroom light in your hand.

Are diamonds edible? You wonder. If you eat them, you’re getting back at him in a way, right? Dissolving his money in stomach acid.

You break the pointed back off of one. It’ll be harder to swallow with it on. Then you do the same with the other. They’re no longer accessories, just useless five-millimeter studs.

Hajime would say you look a mess without them. He says that even women as beautiful as you need accessories. Surely, all this jewelry he puts on you is just his form of branding.

You pop the diamonds into your mouth. Your first thought is to chew; mash them up and make them digestible. It hurts your teeth to try to bite through. It startles you how painful the attempt to crack them was. It startles you enough that you accidentally swallow them whole.

You make a face to yourself in the mirror. Eyes blown, mascara smeared, lipstick smudged. Your heart is racing. It kind of felt… good? What the fuck?

✮✮✮

You rinse your mouth with vodka. A bottle Rindou took from behind the bar. Not that you want to drink anything else they give you.

You’re back behind the club and Rindou doesn’t seem set on getting you even more drunk or high. You’re feeling invincible after swallowing those earrings.

What else could you do to get back at Hajime?

“Do you want to have sex right now?” You pass the bottle back to Rindou.

“No.” He says without thought or hesitation. “Not really. I’m not like that.”

“Like what?”

“A home wrecker.”

“Shut up.” Hajime is not your boyfriend. You guys are not together.

“Sorry.” He takes a big swig. “I’m also not into whatever revenge plot you’re trying to hatch.” He smiles politely. He really looks like his brother. Sad eyed and well dressed.

“It’s not revenge. You said I’m cute.” You move closer to him and your hand creeps to his forearm.

He turns his head up and sighs. “He’s made a pleasant life for you. Why can’t you just accept it?”

“Fuck off.”

When he looks back at you, his lips part, he thinks and closes them. Then they come open again.

“I’ll tell you something, okay?” Rindou huffs. “A while ago, there was this girl… maybe a little younger than you. A hooker who worked out of one of our brothels. She looked okay.”

He pauses in thought. Your hand slides off of his forearm.

“She ran away once, with a lot of money. When Mochi brought her back, she was so full of vengeance.” He chuckles. “Koko was pissed. Kicked that girl’s teeth in. Locked her in a closet, and only fed her rice and chicken once a day. It was bad. He told Sanzu to pull her nails out. Tortured her for like two months.”

His brows furrow, and he gets quiet for a second. “Yeah, he would tell us to do terrible things to her. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I haven’t been back since.” He scratches his head. “But, what I’m saying is, Koko’s a cruel guy and you’re lucky he likes you.”

It’s shameful to think you didn’t know. To think some women have suffered at the hands of the man who makes you comfortable. For the longest time, you were oblivious. You’re an idiot.

“You’re lying.” You say, because he must be. This couldn’t have happened under your nose.

“Look at the situation you’re in. Is it impossible?” His brows rise in question.

You’re doomed, aren’t you? “I’m just going to kill myself. You should kill yourself, too.” You take the bottle from him. It feels like fire going down your throat.

His gaze has changed when you finally look at him again. There's a sense of mischief you only catch on to when he kisses you. This time, on your mouth.

You’re not sure you want this, but you lean into it for the sake of rebellion. It’s so strange kissing someone who isn’t Hajime. Matter of fact, it's strange locking lips with someone you've just met. Rindou's lips are so soft and warm. His tongue glides languidly against yours. His hands travel from your cheek to your chin to tilt your head up, so he can savor you deeper. You both taste of alcohol.

When he pulls away, he waivers a little at the sound of a soft accidental moan leaving your lips. He grins. Suddenly, you want him back.

“Now you’ve rebelled, and you’re still stuck here. I don’t think you have the balls to kill yourself, though.” He reaches into his pocket for a cigarette. “But if you want to, you can.”

#this is the best i got bro #my neck hurts so bad #noooooo rin don't be sexyyyyy #this took forever to write #tw: violence #bonten x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tw: drugs #tw: gore #tw: disordered eating #tonights meal? Earrings.

45 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 2 months

Note

hi can you post memory 2 again please? I never got a chance to read it. If you want to ofc !

Did it here

2 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 3 months

Text

To Be a Princess

Chapter 1

Start/Next

fem!reader x kokonoi

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Abuse, Death, Blood, Strained Mother/Daughter relationships (other trigger warnings to be added)

Synopsis: What is a good relationship without its ups and downs? You and Hajime have never had a serious down until now. You can run away, but it's never that easy.

“My mother texted me,” Exasperation coats your vocal cords. A smirk paints your face when you see Koko roll his eyes, still looking down at his paperwork. You should be in bed, but the multiple sharp dings of your mother's messages forced you awake. Now, you can’t go back to sleep.

His eyes settle on you, a fond smile brightening his features. “Well, good morning to you, too.” His attention is on you as you make your way further into his office and sit on his desk to peek over at the papers he’s going through. You could count every crystal in the chandelier above you through its reflection in his eyes as he gazes up at you.

“Good morning.” You giggle when you lean down to kiss him. His chin rests in your palm as you guide him towards you. The moment your lips meet, you feel all the tenseness leave his body.

“What did she say?” He rests his head in his hand.

“Something about reconnecting and wanting to see me. I don’t know, I didn’t really read it.”

His brows furrow, and he leans back in his chair. You take him in. He smells of Bibliothèque by Byredo he bought a while ago, a recent favorite of his. The fruitiness and woodiness add an air of maturity to his already put-together demeanor. It makes sense for someone so beautiful. He shakes his head. “But if you want to, I won’t stop you.”

You smooth over your silk nightgown and shrug. You consider his face for a moment. His red eyeliner isn’t on. His skin and eyes look dull. His hair is pulled back into a half bun, half ponytail fusion. He yawns.

“How long have you been up?” You remember going to bed with him last night. When you woke at three to get water and crawled back into bed, he was there and pulled you back into his chest to cuddle. You know he’s slept, but for how long?

“I don’t know...” He taps his phone to check the time. “Maybe since five or six? My boss called and asked me if I could rush some stuff.”

His workaholic tendencies make your head hurt sometimes. You’ve told him before that you think he’ll die at that desk. “And when he called, you just got up and started working?” He rolls his eyes. “Koko, did you even eat?”

“No.”

“You’re going to have a heart attack in this office.”

“But I’ll leave you so much.” He smiles playfully, but none of this is funny.

“It’s not funny! Let’s go out for breakfast.” You hop off of his desk and head towards the door. You look back and see that his head is in his papers again. “Now!” With that, he’s moving.

✮✮✮

“Mom?” You try to sound composed over the phone as tears stream down your cheeks. You’re unsuccessful, and she starts to scramble and beg you to tell her what’s happened. You can’t. Your throat hurts and you still can’t process what’s going on. “I’m- I’m at a ho-hotel right now,” You sniffle and cough and wipe away snot. “I’m going to take a trai-n and be there tomorrow.”

You grow nauseous as your mom pleads with you to tell her what’s wrong. You hang up and collapse into a ball on the floor. Sobbing doesn’t help, but it’s the only thing you can do right now. It’s the first time since you left that you’ve had time to break down.

You fall asleep like that.

The next morning, you wake up in pain. Your eyes burn, your mouth is dry, and your bones ache. This is the lowest your life has been since meeting Hajime and possibly the worst it could be. Rock bottom. And as much as you miss the feel of your bed and his kisses on your cheeks telling you it will be alright; you know better than to return.

“It’s not his fault.” That’s what you’d thought when you came into his office last night to see the guest, you’d let in slumped over in a chair with a bullet through his head.

There had been no commotion until the sound of the gunshot. You had run to check on Hajime only to find out he was the assailant. You hadn’t even known he had a gun. Why would he have a gun? And why would he kill a random client of his? They came over all the time and nothing like this had happened before. It couldn’t have been him. Why would he do this?

You hadn’t even reacted when you saw it. You only felt your heart drop and your body tremble. Brain matter, blood, and little bone fragments covered the room. The man’s eyes were glossed over with no life inside of them. Your heart was on track to beat out of your chest and maybe you were going to pass out, but you had said little to Hajime in the moment. You stood in shock for a second before he opened his mouth to say something you didn’t quite hear, too busy processing the scene.

“Do you need help to clean?” Were all the words your mouth could form. Neither of you had expected that to be the first thing to find its way off of your tongue. Mouth agape, he nodded slowly and confused.

You left to go rummaging through the cabinets with unstable hands. You’d grabbed as much as you could hold. Never had you been prepared to clean up so much blood. There was no thought as shaky hands grabbed at glass cleaner and air freshener. When you’d come back, Hajime was staring at the body in disbelief.

“Is this the first time?” You’d asked.

He’d come clean about everything. Words spilled like water from a broken dam. He was an executive in a high-profile gang. Bonten. You’d heard of it, but only on the news. They’d been less of a gang and more of a terrorist organization. Selling drugs, dealing weapons, killing people and so much more. Hajime didn’t seem like the type, but he said it wasn’t his first time killing. He clarified that it’s not a hobby of his like it is for other people he knew. Tears filled his eyes as he told you, but they didn’t fall in that moment. He was pulling himself together as best he could. He’d never intended for you to find out. Hajime just wanted to keep you safe and take care of you. He promised.

You listened silently while scrubbing the walls as he said something about not wanting you to leave. How he couldn’t stand to lose someone else to a life like this. He’s sorry, but this is all he’s known since he was a kid. He doesn’t know how to get by in any other way. You have to believe him. He loves you. He can’t stand the idea of you leaving him.

His propositioning became a blur when he began to break down. You stopped hearing him when the tears started to fall and the look in his eyes changed from sorrow and guilt to something unhinged. His hands came up to pull at the roots of his hair and you’re sure he was screaming apologies and begging you not to leave. His mouth moved like he was begging you to say something, but all you could was scrub the wall and look at him. You don’t remember the time cleaning after that.

For the first time, you feared him and felt alone all over again. He’d become another stranger. Your heart was sitting in your lap and you were watching it beat as you figured out what to do.

While he showered, you packed a bag for when you’d make a run for it in the dark hours of the morning. You took some jewelry to pawn, comfortable clothes to make the trip in, and some of the fancy hygiene products he bought you. Then you hid the bag in one of the spare rooms, before climbing into bed to wait for him. With the state he was in, surely, he’d hurt you if he knew you were going to leave.

His kisses felt like sandpaper against your cheeks. Every time his lips touched your skin was a silent question of whether you still loved him. You did, but you couldn’t stay. Not like this. When he fell asleep, you took some cash and ran as far as you could. It wasn’t very far at all. An okay hotel near the train station about an hour away.

Twice now you’ve thought about calling the police and having him locked away forever. Once last night and now as you step out of the shower and see an accomplice in the hotel mirror. You can’t bring yourself to do it. Your head aches at the thought of him behind bars, in a small room, taking communal showers. You don’t want that for him. What you want is the normalcy back. You want him holding you. You want him telling you that you had a nightmare. You want this nasty breakup over with.

Your eyes become faucets of emotion again as you mourn. You cry and heave naked over the sink. For the first time in a long time, you’re alone in this life. Hajime cannot come to comfort you when you cry. You are at your lowest.

It comes up faster than you expect. Your stomach. Milky vomit splatters into the sink. You run the water over it as your body tremors. The sound calms you.

Your hand dips into the stream and comes up to your mouth. You gargle and spit twice. Then you splash water over your face. You’re fine.

There’s no time for this. You need to leave.

Pulling on your clothes has you thinking about other things or at least trying to distract yourself.

“What’s worse, living with a murderer or my mom?” You halfheartedly laugh to yourself. It’s too much to think about right now.

You haven’t worn a sweatsuit in quite some time. Koko hated what he called “lazy clothes” and insisted you are too beautiful to wear them. Of course, you still had some, but you could never do more than look at them. Not until now. You’re sure your mother would be just as disapproving for similar reasons.

You laugh again at the thought of neither of them liking this outfit. A soft yellow sweat suit and white sneakers. It’d break both of their hearts.

A soft knock at your door interrupts your thoughts, and you stiffen.

“Room service.” Says a gruff, masculine voice on the other side.

Just room service. You unclench.

“No, thank you!” You shout as you grab your bag and ready yourself to leave.

“It’s important.” The voice sings back. “You left something at the front desk. I need to return it to you.”

Oh?

You crack the door open just enough for your foot to fit through. The man is tall and angular. Dress shirt. Tie. Black slacks. Loafers. Expensive Prada Loafers. He reeks of cigarette smell. Acrid and off-putting. Nothing in his hands but the rings that adorn his scarred fingers. Your eyes travel up to his face.

Slicked back black hair. Prominent streaks of grey in thick stripes. Massive scar across his eye. He doesn’t work here. Your heart jumps to a start.

You scramble to close the door, but he’s strong enough to just push his way in and have you falling on your ass in the process. The door swings shut, the lock clicks, and a gun is pointed at you. His finger comes to his lips to hush you before you can think of screaming.

“It’s early. I’m tired. And I don’t want to be here.” He reaches his free hand out to help you up off the floor. You stare frozen in fear, labored breathing, unable to think until you notice his gesture and offer a hand so he can pull you up. “Can you just come with me so I can drop you off to Koko and go about my day?”

Your saliva becomes glue holding your mouth shut. You can do nothing but stare into his eyes.

“Hello?” He waves his gun in your face and you flinch away.

You offer a slow, cautious shake of your head. Your feet carry you a couple of steps back. He follows.

“You have to.” He asserts, shoving the gun’s muzzle under your chin.

For some reason, you're embarrassed by your trembling. You try to stop it, but can’t. Your eyes are blown wide and your hands shake as you grab the man’s wrist to pull the gun from under your chin.

“I can’t.” You barely manage. Tears fill your eyes as you back away again. The man doesn’t move with you. He looks more confused and irritated than anything. He’s nothing but furrowed brows and hard eyes.

“Listen…” He groans as he watches you wipe away tears as they fall. “I don’t know what the hell this is about, nor do I care, but my boss told me to get you and bring you to Koko,” He steps closer and shoves the gun into his waistband. “I’m not a fan of brutalizing attractive young women, but I will if I have to. Then I’ll carry you out of here and take you to him.”

You understand you’re leaving with him either way.

✮✮✮

He’s enough of a gentleman to have grabbed all of your stuff for you and thrown it into his backseat, but not enough of a gentleman to not kidnap you. Enough of a gentleman to open the door to his SUV for you, but not enough of a gentleman to not point a gun at you.

When his car starts, the feeling of dread sinks in. This is happening. This is not a dream. Your ex is a man powerful enough to have you kidnapped.

You try to suck it up and stop your tears, but you keep sniffling. Hajime is a sick bastard to send a man with a gun after you. How could he?

“What’s your name?” The man's voice interrupts your thoughts. You say nothing. “Fair.” He brushes you off. “I understand it. I’m human too.”

Hard to believe.

“My name is Takeomi.” He looks away from the road to shoot a halfhearted grin. “I’ll have to learn your name later, right?”

“Please let me go.” You demand through sniffles. You try to toughen your act as the tears dry up. Still, you feel pathetic.

He ignores you.

“I thought he was gay.” He doesn’t turn to look at you this time. “You know, I thought I’d be picking up a man.”

Oh?

“…but you’re incredibly beautiful so, I understand if he suddenly changed his mind.”

What?

He doesn’t say much after that, and just drives. You stare out of the window and hold back tears.

By the time you arrive, you’ve calmed down. You linger in the car as Takeomi grabs your things and calls Hajime, but the moment he opens the door it’s a march of death.

Takeomi waits with you at the elevator. He can’t stand this, you can tell. Even without moving, his stance is impatient. You can hear the hum of the elevator moving. The closer it sounds the more your heart races.

DING!

No. No.

You take a step back as the elevator doors open. You look at Takeomi who looks back at you and shrugs.

No.

You’re half ready to run when a hand guides you into the elevator. You keep your head down. Hajime mutters out a thank you and you see them exchanging your luggage. They don’t say goodbye.

The penthouse is the same. Same sweet smell. Same shiny wooden floors. Same warmth. But it’s not your home anymore. It’s your new gilded cage.

Hajime drops your bag and suddenly you’re surrounded by a familiar warmth and scent. He’s everything you can sense. His floral conditioner. His musky cologne. His well-trimmed nails against your scalp.

“Hajime…”

He pulls away. There’s a darkness in his eyes when you finally look at him. His hair is a mess. He hasn’t brushed it like he usually would. His makeup isn’t done. He is still in his pajamas. It’s been less than a day and already he’s in disarray.

“Why did you abandon me when all I do is take care of you?” He stresses. “I do everything to keep you safe and beautiful and you run after one mistake?”

“Mistake?” Your voice shakes. “Killing someone is a mistake?”

“I was doing my job.”

“Fuck you.” An immediate slap to your cheek blurs your vision.

First, it’s shock, then it’s anger, then it’s tears. Koko doesn’t seem remorseful though. With furrowed brows, he says, “I love you and you abandoned me. I took care of you when that bitch of a mother threw you out and you crawled into Tokyo from the shithole you came from. But fuck me?”

Crazy. He’s actually crazy.

You slap him back and the look on his face changes from seething anger to hurt. Before he can react, you dart from the doorway all the way to the bedroom unsure of if he’s chasing you. Immediately you lock it. Finally, you can breathe, but the air is full of him.

#tokyo rev x reader #koko x reader #tw: violence #tw: abuse #tw: kidnapping #bonten x reader

55 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 4 months

Text

Another relationship rant

Tw: For Suicide

lmao broke up with them and now they are telling me they are going to commit sooooo a lot is going on rn. After months of the most emotionally violent thing I've ever experienced since middle school, lol, I thought the split would be amicable, but it is not. I do not understand a single thing that is happening anymore, and I do not wish to. I called their family and honestly, I don't know if that is enough. I know this is par for the manipulation course but??? They've expressed suicidal ideation while we were together and now I'm at a loss. I cannot catch a break.

#tw: suicide #tw: sucidal thoughts

3 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 4 months

Note

Hi hope your doing good!!♡♡

I just wanna say how much I love ur writing like omfg you were really in ur bag with mbfc👀 its something about how you write the characters so fucked up and the shit y/n goes through itches my brain so gOod.

The way I still think about that story after months is crazy😩🫶🏽

SDJfbjbfjbfhbg tysm im flattered. My new fic is kinda like koko centered reboot of that. So, please look forward to it.

2 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 4 months

Note

Just found your blog. Hope you have a nice day

thank you

0 notes

braineater444 · 5 months

Note

if u don’t mind me asking, what happened to memory 2 & kokonoi’s story ?

honestly... no clue... I'll see what I can do

#it might take me a while tho...

3 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 5 months

Note

Hey, I read your rant and I don't want this to come off in a bad way in any way,shape or form.

I personally believe that you need to put your feelings and emotions over others.Do things that will make the future you thankful and happy.If you are feeling unhappy in the relationship at the moment, there is a high chance that you will still be feeling the same in the end.

I believe that you should start focusing on hobbys and things that bring you joy in general.Maybe wrote a journal it could help you to understand yourself better and these confusing feelings can be solved.

It might not happen as soon as you want it to but everything will work out at the end .x

I really appreciate your thoughtful and kind words. You’re right that I should be better at focusing on my own emotional health. I will start focusing on finding things that make me happy and my own dreams. I really wanted to pic up painting and sculpting recently so… I think I’ll start there as a new form of self expression.

In regards to the relationship, I’ll take my time to consider how it affects me in the long run. I think I’ve forgotten to consider myself and stop romanticizing the bad with the good. I’ll talk to my partner soon.

Thank you for caring <3

6 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 5 months

Text

Hi to the five people that still think about this blog. I’ve been writing a new fic and honestly idk if it will ever come out because it feels more personal than ever. It’s about Kokonoi if anyones reading this. But that’s not what I want to talk about. I need the anonymity and freedom to complain about all the emotions and thoughts this fic has brought out of me. This is a vent post about my personal life.

Recently, a couple months ago, I lost my virginity and got into my first ever relationship. I’m bipolar and I was manic when it happened and I feel so ashamed and I don’t know what to do or say.

I try to disengage from sentimentality, but I’ve always been sensitive about everything. I understand virginity isn’t important. I get that, but I was so scared and taken aback when it happened. I have this deep rooted fear of being alone and I didn’t know what to do. I kept letting them touch me and come into my home and I never said anything. Everything they did hurt so bad and still I wanted to be with them because it was the first time I’d been given such attention. The first time I went that far and I scrambled to hold it together. I told them I wanted to be in a relationship and I knew in my heart that I wasn’t ready for that, but I didn’t know any other choice.

Naturally, this doesn’t fell like it’s going well and I’m all torn up on the inside. I tried to break up with them once, but I felt to overcome by grief and stayed. We argue over things I wouldn’t consider to be huge issues. They can’t stand the things I say or do and they think I hate them. I’m not sure I don’t. But maybe a week ago I held them while they cried in my bed at 2 am. I was tired and already dozing off, but I stayed up because I didn’t want them to feel as if I didn’t care. I’m bad with affection so I let them cry for a while and didn’t ask questions after I realized they weren’t going to answer me. Then, I helped the best way I knew how. I brushed their hair, painted their nails, and put glitter under their eyes. I felt so sad and distraught the entire time.

My family adores them. They think my partner is funny. They’re right. My partner is wonderfully charismatic. Sometimes I’m jealous of how well they navigate socially. I’m no good with others, so I do most things alone. Hell, most of the time we argue over the phone and I just hang up and put my phone on do not disturb. I can’t navigate anything to do with others for the life of me. It’s a little funny.

Regardless, when it’s good, its good. When it’s bad it feels like the end. They do things I don’t do and want things I don’t want. It hurts my head and I never no what to think. They’re so beautiful, but so jealous. I feel like I’m being treated like the one who cheated on them, but I’m not. I was never the girl that cheated on them, but I feel like I’m being punished in her stead. I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before and it’s all so contradictory. I feel shredded.

Because the world is so dark right now, I can’t cry. I think it’s really selfish to do. But, my fashion and creative expression is all I have to cling on to right now. I’ve turned to the aesthetics of religion and movies about women who’ve lost it to wallow. I’ve been looking for beautiful mantillas and rosaries despite being agnostic on my best day and an atheist on my worst. I’ve been reaching for prayer candles and investing in stories of women suffering more and more. Sometimes, I think my pain is what binds me to womanhood. I used to question myself, but this pain is undoubtedly feminine. I feel both empty and full.

Several times I thought to say “I think we started having sex too soon, we should stop for a while.” And every time I can’t bring myself to do it. It feels like an arduous labor of love. I dreaded it in the beginning, but I think I’ve tricked myself into craving it. But I’m so confused because now my body betrays me when I tell myself I don’t want it. I don’t understand a single thing.

I don’t feel like myself anymore, but I’m not depressed or unhappy, just lost. I want to return to something and it feels like I’m grieving whatever that is. Surely it isn’t my downright awful girlhood. Or my hymen. Or the time before this where I was consistently alone. I’m confused and hurt.

It’s so weird to have one person’s undivided attention. I used to think this is what I wanted. I used to day dream about it. I knew it’d be hard, but this is more painful than I imagined. I tried talking to my friends, but I can’t be this blunt with them for fear of disparaging comments from people I adore. I just need a blank slate. Someone faceless and voiceless to talk to. I don’t have to pretend to be tough like I always do (even in the privacy of my own home) or pause to answer questions. I just need to talk.

With that, I’m sorry if my next fic (if it comes out) is more psychological than anything if you guys aren’t into that. With the mess in my head I couldn’t find another way. I need something self indulgent and ridiculous because I love my partner. I really do.

#yes i have a therapist #no im probably not autistic #isn’t being bipolar enough #none if this feel like who I was meant to be #i keep making stupid choices and I don’t know how to quit #i need good fruit

12 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 10 months

Note

HIIII I just stayed up two hours reading every single thing you have written on this blog and you are a gift to writing, you are a gift to my eyes, if I could rip my heart out and give it to you, I would.thank you and good morning

Thanks. Do you want to get married?

9 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 10 months

Text

Sometimes I think I’m gay then I remember there are men I would turn my strap into melted silicone mush inside of if given the chance

#yasu from nana wouldn’t know what to do after I get him pregnant.#silva zoldyck listen to me…!!!#KISHIBE!!!!!!!!!

1 note · View note

braineater444 · 10 months

Text

Ran strikes me as the type to carve his name into your skin like he owns you. Strong but soft hands gripping your thighs and forcing them open as he digs a blade deep in your flesh.

You can’t leave him after this. You won’t be able to forget him. He’ll be with you forever. He doesn’t care that you’re not interested in him; that you’re only kind to him out of fear. You’ll learn to love him. His name in your flesh guarantees that much.

As he finishes up leaving his mark, he licks the blood from your skin and kisses you. His teeth clash against yours. His thumbs wipe away your tears. He’s made up his mind that he wants you above all else. You’re stuck with him forever and this is just proof.

#!ran!#tw: blood #tw: abuse #tw: violence

18 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 10 months

Text

“To Be Better”

Big Brother!Yoshida x Gender Neutral Reader

(Tw: Sexual Abuse, Rape, Incest, Mild Smut, Mental Health, Suicidal Ideation)

A/N: I told myself I would finish this today and I did against my better judgment. This is not fully proofread and a bit different in comparison to other things I’ve written. Not heavy on the smut but definitely heavy. Idk. This isn’t good. Goodnight <3

Your older brother Yoshida is the brightest star to ever shine in your family. He got into all of the top universities (and every school he applied to for that matter) he’s smart, he’s attractive and everyone loves him to pieces, even those he’s only said one word too. He’s that type of guy. Too charismatic for his own good. A revolving door of people interested in being with him. Not a single flaw on his pretty skin.

Then, there’s you. You’re born second, but that doesn’t make you any where near close to second to him. Somehow, even with there being only two of you, you fall further down. You’re not placing in a race with him. You graduated two years after him, but no one from your extended family showed up like they did for him. You had a few friends, but were otherwise known as Hirofumi’s younger sibling. Your existence felt like an inconsequential blip when you were so eclipsed by him in every aspect of anything you did. He is the sun, but to say you’re the moon would be a lie.

So, it felt nice to graduate. To leave the school where every one knew you as a his shadow and the comparisons never ended. It felt nice to go to a community college where no one knew you and forge your own identity.

Even with him out of the house two years before, you still weren’t as free from him as you have been recently. You’re healing as of late. His winter break visit has cone and gone and you’re getting better. This summer will be better. There’s just you and sure, you still live with your parents who always compared you to him, but now your lives have almost completely diverged. They have to, after all the work you’ve put in to getting better about being his shadow.

Of course, it’s not as simple as him having disappeared at university forver, though. It cant be your happily ever after. He comes home over his breaks and this one is no different.

The summer air is hot. It’s unpleasant and almost inescapable. There’s three popsicle sticks on your desk and the ceiling fan of your room is going as fast as it can go. It’s working desperately to cool you down with its gentle whirring, but still, you’re sticky with a light cast of sweat as you lay silently on your bed in wait.

You know he’s here. His voice flows proudly all through the house as he greats your parents and asks where you are and why you haven’t come to see him. You can hear him padding down the hall. Your brother has a distinct walk. It’s heavy and light all at once like he’s waltzing his way to your door. A distinct feeling of dread punctuates each and every step.

As the door to your room swings open, you’re greeted by that same gut punch of a smile that you hadn’t been unfortunate enough to see since winter. This time it’ll be longer. The summer is too long.

“What?” It’s not really a question. Just something to make him go away.

“What?” He repeats back to you. “You’re not excited to see me?” Hirofumi… his voice is like silk; like he’s got it all figured out. It’s no wonder he’s got every one fooled.

…

Usually it’s the summer heat that keeps you up all night, but tonight it’s him. You can’t see him, but you know he’s there and for that reason you haven’t left your room all day. His presence is an ache and your brain and the dryness of your mouth. This was supposed to be easier.

For the first time since he’s been back, you walk as quietly as possible out of your room praying that he isn’t awake. When you pass his room there’s no light coming from under the closed door and not a sound to be heard.

He’s asleep. Thank god.

You take a breath of relief and hurry yourself through the house, but as you round the corner into the kitchen the lights are on and he’s there. Closing the cabinets after putting up one last dish. And there it is. That sickening smile as he spots you.

“You didn’t eat dinner with us.”

You ignore him and pull open the refrigerator. All of the foods been neatly wrapped up and nicely stacked in small containers. You don’t check them to see what’s inside. Instead, you pick at a bunch of grapes and shovel them into your mouth one by one. There’s nothing to be said. You’re dealing with this well enough.

The grapes are ice cold and pop deliciously in your mouth. This is the best thing to happen to you all day. You needed this. You deserve this. Until, it’s interrupted by a large hand on your shoulder.

You stiffen.

“Don’t-” You turn and smack his hand off of your shoulder.

“Why are you acting like that?” He asks. He’s trapping you between his body and the ice cold inside of the refrigerator. He’s so close. Too close. You can smell him. He smells so fucking good. It’s sweet like fresh cut grass and natural like the wind traveling over the sea. It’s sickening. He’s making you nauseous by being in your space. A headache is forming. He shouldn’t be this close.

Your hand shoots out between the two of you and pushes at his chest before you even realize you’ve moved. You retract your hand like you were burned. “Move.” It’s quiet but stern. He doesn’t budge in the slightest. A look of confusion paints his face.

“What is your problem?” He steels himself.

For a second you almost believe him. You almost believe he’s truly lost and he doesn’t know why you’re acting like this towards him.

“You were fine when I came back over the break in winter.”

Right. Winter. You don’t even want to think about it.

He pulls you away from the refrigerator with a tight grip on your arm. You here it click closed and your brain stops working at the sound. He’s been treating you like this forever. Like a rag doll. For a second you let it happen. You have half a mind to let him do what he’s always done, but with the better half you pull away from him. His hand feels like it should’ve left burn marks in every spot he’d touched.

“Leave me alone.” You want to scream but it comes out as a hushed cry. Your nails dig into his forearm and he lets you go. You stumble back into the counter and you don’t even feel the pain that accompanies it.

“You don’t like me anymore?” His smile is confused. His eyebrows are furrowed. He pretends not to know what’s wrong.

…

You’re dealing with this the best way you know how.

He’s not here, in your room, but somehow he’s everywhere. His smell lingers in there air. Somehow it feels like his hand is still wrapped around your arms. You can’t get rid of him even in the quiet of your own room.

You lock the door. You unlock it. You lock it again.

You flick the light on. You flick it off. You flick it on again. You leave it off.

You start to try to lay back down, but you can’t bring yourself to touch your bed. Not with Hirofumi all over you.

The only solution is a shower.

The water burns just right against your thigh as you step in. You needed this. You weren’t ready to see him again.

Your body is trembling. How long have you been like that? Are there tears in your eye? You can feel your throat tightening up and wetness streaming down your face. Why are you crying? He didn’t do anything to you.

Maybe you shouldn’t be treating him like this. You liked him in the winter. You liked what happened then. You’re fooling yourself into thinking you’re the victim. After all these years, you’re not the victim.

Like a bullet in the chest it hits you all at once. So many years of him fight to the forefront of your thoughts.

Even as you scrub your skin you can feel his hands all over you. You’re sure the soap smells like him. You hold the soap to your nose and the thought goes away. It doesn’t smell like him.

You think about the winter. Your unlocked door. An invite for him to come in. You scrub at your skin.

You remember the heat of his body against yours. When you would beg him to stop. You scrub.

His hands gripping at your chest. Your quiet discomfort as you let him. The tears that rolled down your cheeks and the the way he kissed them away. You’ll clean him off of you even if your skin turns raw.

You can’t breathe. The tightness in your throat is getting worse. You’re sure you’re bawling. You want this to end. To go away. You need to go away.

Your knees buckles under you and when they crack against the shower floor the world becomes clear again. You can hear yourself sobbing. You can feel that the waters too hot against your skin. It’s too much.

A knock on the door comes as you rush to turn the water off.

“Are you okay?” Hirofumi’s voice lingers on the other side. You can smell him again. “Y/N~” He sings your name out with the beat of his second round of knocks at the door. “Do you want me to come in there?”

You’re still crying. You can’t catch your breathe. Your pleads for him not to come in are stuck in your throat.

You hear him say your name again. Then, the door starts to inch open. He can’t do this. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.

“GO AWAY!” You scream out before you knew you could speak again. The door clicks shut. Footsteps sound further and further until they disappear. Relief. You melt in to the wall of the tub. He’s gone.

There’s no telling how long you stayed there; a mess of sopping wet hair and skin, but you eventually pull yourself together and rush to get your pajamas on. The long pants. The long sleeves. They tug against your wet skin and make you sweat already.

You look in the mirror; into your bloodshot eyes.

You can never brush your teeth enough. It’s like his tongue is always in your mouth. The taste of his breath lingers. The inside of your mouth feels like his. Too much like his. Your lips are so chewed up trying escape the feeling, they crack even more when you brush your teeth. You brush until your gums bleed. Until your mouth feels as raw as your skin. Until the taste of iron replaces him. Until you can sleep at night. The taste of him will come back. It always does.

…

Your parents don’t sit down for breakfast unless he’s around. Your mom doesn’t cook unless it’s for him. You don’t exist outside of him.

You push your food around your plate and tune them out. He’s sitting across from you and you’re not looking up unless you have to. You’re not hungry this morning. You don’t want to be here.

“Why don’t you want to learn how yo drive?”

The question sounds pointed at you. You stop, to listen again.

“You know…” You stop hearing his voice, but you’re sure he’s still talking. You keep looking down at your plate. “…really, I’m your big brother I should.” You can hear that fucking smile in his voice.

“That would be great, wouldn’t it, honey?” Your moms hand rubs soothingly over your thigh. You almost get the urge to cry again, but you can’t. “Hirofumi could be a great person to teach you?”

You look at her, confused.

“He can teach you how to drive. You should really learn. And maybe look at his new car.”

“It’s really nice.” Your dad cuts in.

He has a new car.

“It’d be great. To make new memories and stuff, right?” Hirofumi looks so endearing. The sun coming in through the window surrounds his body in soft morning light. Of course, he’s glowing. He casts a shadow over your breakfast plate.

“I’ll learn to drive on my own time.” You stuff your mouth with eggs.

Your mother insists that you let Hirofumi teach you. She’s like that. He’s her favorite. He does everything right the first time.

You leave breakfast early and leave them to their golden child.

You lock your door. You unlock it. You lock it again. You check the handle. It’s locked.

Your pajamas are suffocating you. It’s only going to get hotter from this point in the day, but you can’t change. You turn your ceiling fan on. You can breath.

You open a book and try to forget.

By the afternoon, the house falls silent. You leave your room and check all around the place. For each room you flick the lights on and of again and again. Not a soul. Tension relieves itself in place you didn’t know you had it. After checking all the locks, you sprawl out on the couch. Let them be gone forever.

…

You’re burning up. You’re sweating. You have a headache. The tv is on, but there’s some other noise. The couch suddenly feels too small.

“Do you want to go in my room?” Hands tap your cheeks to wake you. Your eyes struggle to open. Your mouth doesn’t move. Again. “Do you want to go in my room?” His face is far above yours, there’s brightness in his eyes, but they remain pitch black. His bangs are still too low. “It’s cooler in there. You’re sweating a lot. C’mon.”

He grabs you. Hoists you in to his arms and you latch on to him. You let him carry you. He loves to carry you. You’re so easy. So so easy. Why are you letting him do this.

“Hiro-”

Nothing.

“Hirofumi…”

“Hm?”

“Please take me to my room. I don’t want to do this.”

“It was fine a couple moths ago. Wasn’t it?”

You shake your head. You never liked it. That time you thought if you tried to enjoy it you’d hurt less. If you finally smiled and gave him what he wanted willingly it wouldn’t be as bad as all of the times before. It worked in the moment, but like every time before it came back to haunt you. You can’t do it again, but you don’t argue.

You let him lay you down on his bed. You go limp. You can’t run. You’ve never been able to stop this.

You think you say his name out loud, but if you do, he doesn’t answer. You ask where your mom’s at. Nothing. Your pajama pants are off. You hear yourself say stop. His hand smooths over your underwear.

There’s a moment of darkness and suddenly you’re both naked. You’re pushing at his muscles. His mouth is leaving wet kisses down your body. You swear you’re begging him to end this. There’s something of a cry for help in there. He can’t do this again.

“You wanted this last time, remember?” He breathes over your sex and drags his tongue across. Your body reacts as if you were struck by electricity, but you feel nothing. There’s just a strange wetness between your legs.

He can’t seem to remember the times before when you said no. All the times that came before the winter. When his hands traveled down in to your uniform. When you told him he didn’t need to kiss you before his graduation speech for good luck. When you said you didn’t want to know what he’d taste like. There were so many rejections, but he just can’t be a good brother.

He can only remember when you begged for him at the park last winter. When you let him climb in your bed and rub himself against the curve of your ass. When you licked his semen off the palm of your hand and kissed him hungrily. He can only remember last winter.

You were so scared. You thought you could face your demons head on.

He’s inside you. He’s so deep inside you. His tongue lick’s at the salty tears and sweat on your cheeks. His lips interlock with yours and you don’t kiss back. Not this time. You feel nothing and everything. Every vein dragging in and it of you. Every fingernail digging into your waist. The muscle in his chest where your hands aren’t pushing any more. Every breath he steals from you. But you don’t feel it.

You’re trapped eye to eye under him. His bedside lamp is dim, but you can see his face so close to yours. He’s tearing you apart from the inside. You have to be dying. You want to die.

“Hiro… I’m going to kill myself.” You manage between tears, broken moans and unstable breaths. “Please stop. I’m going to die. I’m going to kill myself.” It all pours out of your mouth like a flood.

“No. I’ll take care of you,” He says as he lays kisses along your throat.

“No. I’ll die.” You sniffle. “I’ll just die. I promise. I can’t do this. Please stop.” You might be screaming. There’s no way for you to tell. He’s slamming in to you harder. You can see it. You can’t feel it, but you know it hurts. Then it all stops. You can’t see anymore. There’s nothing. Again.

He’s there. Laying on your stomach when you come to. You feel sticky. Like your body’s covered in slime. Gross. Like your wrapped in spiderwebs. Like your brother’s been inside of you. Like this has been going on for as long as you can remember.

You try to push him off of you. You’re still naked. You don’t want your pajamas back anyway. You just want the shower. You push at his head and try to slide your body from under him. His scalp is wet with sweat.

You just want to shower. He won’t budge. His smell is seeping deeper into your skin by the second.

He turns to face you.

“Mom and dad are out all night. We have time.”

You give up. You’ll never be clean again.

#icymi #so many brother yoshida thoughts now

223 notes · View notes

braineater444 · 10 months

Text

“To Be Better”

Big Brother!Yoshida x Gender Neutral Reader

(Tw: Sexual Abuse, Rape, Incest, Mild Smut, Mental Health, Suicidal Ideation)

Your older brother Yoshida is the brightest star to ever shine in your family. He got into all of the top universities (and every school he applied to for that matter) he’s smart, he’s attractive and everyone loves him to pieces, even those he’s only said one word to. He’s that type of guy. Too charismatic for his own good. A revolving door of people interested in being with him. Not a single flaw on his pretty skin.

Even with him out of the house two years before, you still weren’t as free from him as you have been recently. You’re healing as of late. His winter break visit has come and gone and you’re getting better. This summer will be better. There’s just you and sure, you still live with your parents who always compared you to him, but now your lives have almost completely diverged. They have to, after all the work you’ve put in to getting better about being his shadow.

Of course, it’s not as simple as him having disappeared at university forver, though. It cant be your happily ever after. He comes home over his breaks and this one is no different.

You know he’s here. His voice flows proudly all through the house as he greets your parents and asks where you are and why you haven’t come to see him. You can hear him padding down the hall. Your brother has a distinct walk. It’s heavy and light all at once, like he’s waltzing his way to your door. A distinct feeling of dread punctuates each and every step.

“What?” It’s not really a question. Just something to make him go away.

“What?” He repeats back to you. “You’re not excited to see me?” Hirofumi… his voice is like silk; like he’s got it all figured out. It’s no wonder he’s got everyone fooled.

…

Usually it’s the summer heat that keeps you up all night, but tonight it’s him. You can’t see him, but you know he’s there and for that reason you haven’t left your room all day. His presence is an ache in your brain and the dryness of your mouth. This was supposed to be easier.