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It’s irritatingly bright. It’s like that damned star in the sky has a personal grudge against her, always staining the porcelain skin akin to a doll that she’s worked hard to achieve and maintain.
Though it isn’t as porcelain white anymore with the hickeys and scratches all over her.
Annoying, is the only word she can form in her mind, though it only comes out as a scowl on her face as she lifts a hand up to her shoulder. Her thumb carefully traces over the purple-tinted bruise.
The feel of those canines digging into her while she was being ravaged still lingers like it’s fresh in her mind.
A soft pink rises up on her face. No matter how hard she tries to shrug it off, she really can’t. Not when the image of the man snoozing away peacefully beside her in the mangled sheets’ endeavours last night is practically etched into her brain.
Can you blame her, though? To think a gambler, someone defined by the thrill, would have been so tender. The way his hands around her, pulling her close, how he made her fit…perfectly into him. Like a lost puzzle piece.
That’s not to say she could admit that she did manage to squeak out a request for him to get rougher. And by God , did he deliver.
Amidst concerned inquiries— “Are ya sure?”, “Don’t wanna hurt ya—Fuck…”, “Yer positive ya want that, doll?”— there were very insistent pleas.
Shu doesn’t know whether to cringe at her begging, or be thankful she swallowed her pride to be given such a good night. Usually, a wave of anxiety or regret would wash over her at any interaction with him. He’s a gamester, troublemaker, gambler. A freeloader that only visits CRAFTMONSTER for food , rather than artistic pursuits, for God’s sake.
He’s Crazy:B’s Rinne Amagi, and surprisingly, he’s a more gentle lover than expected. (Until she asked for…more, of course.)
Amongst the tangled thoughts she’s trying to pull undone, one rational thought stands out to her—It’s a cold morning. Cloudy. Draft sneaks in from the cracks in the hotel door, but she doesn’t
mind it too much. All she has to do is find her clothes.
The clothes that make up of the mess all over the floor appalled her. Panties, dishevelled button up, bra, Rinne’s briefs—It’s frankly shameful how she let go of her restrained desires the minute she got underneath him.
Her head is pounding , though, so she blindly searches for something to wear near the bed. She can’t be bothered to get up. Her legs are too sore. Flipping onto her side, her hand pats at the carpet beneath her. It’s like pinning the tail on a donkey, though, she’s just looking for a vessel of warmth.
Something soft is between her fingers. Cotton, she recognises. Throwing the article of clothing into her lap, Shu pushes herself up with a soft yawn and plays with the tag, lids fluttering open as she turns the top inside out again.
It’s nicer now. With a shirt on her, she can now think clearly without the nagging cold creeping up her warm body.
…She slept with Rinne fucking Amagi.
As in, she begged for him to get on top of her and fuck her. Make love to her. Have sex with her. Coitus. If all those synonyms weren’t enough, you’d get a clearer idea of what transpired from the marks on her body, her messy hair, sore body and the room neighbors witness statements of hearing the loud plea—and I quote—“ How much clearer must I be with you?! You have my consent! Fuck me, Amagi!” …AKA, the insistent begging mentioned earlier that shot down any and all of Rinne’s concerns in the act.
Regret is a thing of the past. It’s stupid to dwell on something she’s already followed through with.
“Tsk—“ she hisses out, pulling herself back to the headboard. It seems her simple action caused Rinne’s mind to work it’s cogs a bit in his dreamless, since he turns over with a groan, his arm landing into her lap.
His hand can cover most of her thigh, if not all of it. Wow. This is the hand that spread her legs? She can see why.
Good for you, Past Itsuki.
“…Mornin’,” Rinne grumbles. There’s a certain charm that comes with just barely waking up—Morning voice, bed head, the such. In Rinne’s case, it’s practically everything.
His tresses are a stark contrast to the pure white pillow he nuzzles into, and there’s those blue eyes that pierce through the blanket of red hair to stare forwards into nothing. Well, besides Shu’s legs. Rinne also doesn't feel like getting up, and Shu deciding to stay beside him in the embrace of a warm bed is very welcome.
“C’mere…back ta me,” the red-head groans, his hand searching for her waist. Without a minute to protest, Rinne’s tugged her back under the covers, a soft hum of approval coming from him once she’s surrendered and lays beside him without resisting.
His brows scrunch. They’re not skin to skin, but he damn well didn’t let her hide her body last night, especially with clothes. “…The fuck are ya wearin’? This ain’t yers…and I damn well did not leave anythin’ on ya last night. …I think.”
“…I was cold. Good morning to you, too.” she quips.
“Cold? Babe— Ya could’ve jus’ come under here. Shiiit, yer hands are cold, fuckin’ hell, that’s fer sure. Ice cold mittens, doll.”
As if to further prove his point, Rinne’s warmer hand intertwines with his. The heat of his skin on hers stings, showcasing just how cold she was; Or maybe, how boiling hot Rinne’s been after cooking under the covers. It’s not exactly something Shu’s running away from, either…in fact, she seems to willingly allow him to drag her hand up to his lips and doesn’t even grimace when a tiny smooch is placed on the back of her hand.
Rinne chuckles. “Yer not as cold as usual.” he comments, his eyes cracking ajar by just a little.
Shu hums, maintaining the peace and quiet of the early morning.
His thumb draws over the knuckle of her own, finding a sense of thrill from pushing his boundaries as much as possible. After all, Shu isn’t typically the type to welcome someone like him into her company with open arms, so he’ll take the opportunity to test the waters.
A prim and proper dollie and her…rough caretaker that probably caked up his barbie’s hair in toothpaste in an attempt to “wash” it under the childish naiveté of, well, a child, maybe? Well, that’s what Rinne thinks Shu’s initial impression of him would be.
Personally, Rinne sees himself as—well, maybe a little lazy of a doll carer. If he had grown up like a typical average ‘Japanese’ child, he’d love his dolls even if they were ran into rags from things like throwing them into a river so that the prince could save the princess. No matter how dirty or broken, he’d still love them. He might have damaged them unintentionally, and then the people around him would’ve told him;
“You can get a new one, a carbon copy of it!”
“Why hold onto that, it’s so old and broken.”
“It’s so ugly now. It’s worn out, you deserve something better.”
It’s funny how the similarities match up with the couple. He hooks an arm under her, bringing her close and letting her put her chin on his shoulder while he plays with her hair.
He doesn’t really care how some wine turned out this way, but he does like thinking about how this story unraveled.
Rinne could tell Shu was a little tipsy when she came back from Paris. The way she was more informal in her speech, her steps being a touch slower, and of course, the stench of wine on her breath as she toppled onto him from nearly banging into a wall.
Mika offered to bring his beloved Oshi-san home over text, right before the plane to Japan was to be boarded, but Shu had rejected him.
Her most adorable little boy Natsume would update her daily about Mademoiselle’s status and had taken care of her in the artisan’s absence. Given the knowledge of doll maintenance in a way akin to a mother passing her knowledge to a daughter, Shu entrusted her family to him. The magician also offered to meet at the airport, but Shu told him to keep Mademoiselle safe.
Shu came home a little tipsy, offered to share a little wine with Rinne, and then it resulted in a little one night stand.
Stupid french wine. So delectable that it tempted her into bed.
No, no. Even Shu can admit that assumption was plain wrong.
She was tipsy, but not drunk, and she willingly offered more wine between her and the man. She can’t distinguish the reason why, as even her memories from before the night is a little fuzzy. All she knows is that she wanted to spend some time with him.
And maybe, the minute the wine filled that glass, it was set in stone. Maybe it was fate that led her into his lap and messily making out with him. Was destiny, perhaps, the one who had them in a night of unrestrained libido that swallowed them into a rabbit hole of depravity?
To be fair, the only reason Rinne agreed to drink with her despite Japan’s laws for her were because the dice told him to go ahead. In a way, it really was fate.
“…The shirt yer wearin’,” Shu’s brought back into consciousness right as she was about to doze off at the voice near her ear. It’s laced with mischief, and it causes that typical Rinne-induced dread in her stomach to build.
“…Ya realise whose it is, right?”
“No. I simply picked whatever I could up without leaving the bed.” Shu accounts, resting her eyes once again.
“Explains it. Yer wearin’ my shirt, babe.”
Heat rises to her face instantly, a short grunt escaping her. Her fingers find the fabric of the shirt and it confirms it—She really is wearing Rinne’s clothes.
Weirdly, she’s less agitated than she expected herself to be. A sense of comfort is found in wearing it. Maybe it’s because she’s hung-over? Even if she discovered the truth, she’d do nothing but deny her feelings towards… him, and everything that had to do with them as an item.
“…” Holding back her tongue, she nods. “So it is.” she says in a matter-of-factly way.
A shame to Rinne, who wanted to provoke her a little. But it’s alright if he gets to hold her in his shirt for a little while longer, pushing her growing hair away from her nape to give a soft kiss.
A shiver runs down Shu’s spine. “Amagi, I’d appreciate it if you’d allow me to change and prepare food,” her hands push Rinne’s off her waist. “I find myself in a better mood this morning, and if you would…join me for breakfast.”
“Nah, nah,” Groaning out, Rinne’s grip grows stern in it’s conquest over Shu’s body, running a hand under the shirt to squeeze her chest and flip her back into his lap. “c’mon…stay with me fer a while.” he murmurs, kissing along Shu’s exposed shoulder, his shirt hanging off to her bicep.
“Amagi—“
A soft moan follows the call of his name which comes from Shu’s lips like a melodic tune. With Rinne behind her, he takes the hollow of her skin as his own with a harsh groan, sucking it purple. “Mm, yeah, exactly what I like ta hear,”—his hands squeeze her thighs—“‘specially from a voice as sweet as yers.”
The night before has left her sensitive, sore, and vulnerable. Rinne sees this as an opportunity to tease.
“Don’t lie now,” Rinne mutters against her skin, breathing in the sweet perfume she wears. His soft kisses form a path over a specific vein on her neck, weaving down to her shoulder. With a hand under her shirt, his fingers tease with their warmth against her cold skin, moving up to her ribs and coaxing a choked moan out of her. “I know ya want breakfast, but where’s my good mornin’ kiss? ‘Specially after I took ya fer a damn good ride last night? Ya pain me, Shu-kun.” He teases.
Her breath comes out in a stutter, back arching in reply to him. “Last night— It was nothing short of alcohol and stress relief . Do— Do not twist this into something it is not, understood?” The woman sternly scolds, holding onto his thighs in an attempt to push him off.
It’s to no avail, with Rinne propping his head upon her shoulder and humming. “Fine, fine, we hooked up.” He nods along in agreement, “…I dunno, maybe some of that Francois wine’s still in me, but I’m still feelin’ kinda sappy, y’know. Plus, I probably roughed ya up a li’l…need a big, strong Rinne ta massage ya?” His voice transforms into a chuckle, kissing her neck and moving his hands around her waist.
“No.”
“Fair ‘nough, I dunno how ta massage.” Rinne juts out his bottom lip, casually shrugging.
His fingers intertwine on her tummy, patting it gently. His brows furrow at the feel while Shu stays quiet, not resisting nor exactly easing into Rinne’s caging embrace. “…have ya been eatin’ well? Hey. You can stay in bed ‘n’ I’ll run down ta get ya some food, let ya warm up with some…how’s pancakes sound?” He leans further forward on her shoulder, and sees the grimace. “No pancakes. Got it, I’ll pick whatever’s healthy. Got a safefood?”
“Croissants.”
“Thought so.” Rinne chirps, pressing a smooch to her cheek before patting her thigh and swinging off the bed to reveal his figure with a stretch and groan.
Shu’s lavender hues linger and squint at the amount of scratches irritating his skin from behind. It’s an inhumane amount and clear evidence of their night together…To think Rinne got her in such a frenzy that she clawed at him like a cat with it’s tower is rather embarrassing to her, amongst other things.
Following suite, Shu stands, quietly approaching Rinne’s back. His muscles flex, the sun shimmering and showcasing years of effort. “Are you sore?” Shu murmurs, a finger coming up to trace along the claw marks.
Rinne shivers. “A li’l. No biggie. Nice knowin’ ya wanted me so bad that ya used my back like a cuttin’ board, kyahaha!”
“Amagi,” Shu’s brows furrow, and her hand comes up instinctively to grip his chin—though, she squishes his surprisingly baby-feeling cheeks together and forces him to look at her stoic expression. “I understand there’s a medical kit in the hotel bathrooms. I carry my own supply. …Return with our food in haste, and I’ll tend to your wounds. They may get infected, and—“
Rinne tunes out her rambling, the sound of the background turning into a quiet ringing. For once in his life, or at least with Shu, he feels like he’s actually gotten somewhere in their relationship. The Itsuki Shuu was in the middle of lecturing him about basic medical need over them having some sex and to him, that’s a milestone.
The Shu that used to look down at him in shame and disdain was caring about his wellbeing, albeit over something like this .
His once widened eyes slowly settle back into their usual shape, and his ‘o’ shape lips turn into a soft smile. In that moment, all in his mind is the fact Shu actually gives a shit over someone like him.
His hand removes hers, and in a state of slight confusion, Shu feels a soft peck on her lips before the next thing she sees is a shirt thrown over Rinne and him hastily getting some jeans and his headband on.
“Yer real cute, sweetheart. Right, I’ll come up with the food, you get shit ready ta be a sexy li’l nurse for me! Be right back, ‘kay? Jus’ wear my jacket if ya get cold.” With a wink, the door shuts.
Shu stands there in shock, fingers tracing over her lips. That mellow kiss was unexpected. Unpredictable. Truly something that had Rinne written all over it, putting his character on display.
Heat rises to her face.
“…Of course.”
Maybe indulging every once in a while isn’t so bad, then.
Maybe she’ll indulge in him more often.