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thenightmarketofdathomir · 2 years

Note

Oh Wishmonger, is it too late to ask for some good old predator/prey drabbles? Maybe you’re joking around with the bros. Or maybe you’re going up against them for reasons, but things get hot and heavy 😌

Never too late for primal anything. Though I regret that we failed to meet your suggestion of a "drabble," as this is significantly bigger.

Title: No Quarter Pairing: Opress Brothers x Reader (🥪) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,924 Summary: Tickle the rancor's teeth and you're sure to get bitten. Warnings: Predator/prey chase, primal kink, CNC, knife play, bondage, entrapment, some violence typical of primal play, some blood typical of primal play, creampie, anal play, spitroasting, throat fucking, gang bang, over sensitization, forced orgasm, implied aftercare, mating marks

Splashed up to mid-thigh in swamp-reek, mud-smeared, gloves caked with something unidentifiable from the gravethorns, you throw yourself into the bog at full-force. Forget the sanctity of your weapon — you brought a blaster to a knife fight. Stupid girl.

The shock of tepid, brackish water doesn’t slow you, though the pull of the silted bottom does. You gasp, falling forward, but like everything else involving tonight’s challenge, it’s not your first mistake: this is just one more reason why you shouldn’t make foolhardy boasts in front of the Opress brothers:

That you were faster than any bounty.

That you were stealthier.

That you were better at escaping them than they were at catching you.

Blame the spicewine at dinner for forgetting so easily that teasing the rancor only makes him hungrier, and that Zabrak don’t suffer the challenges of their prey lightly.

Two trained Nightbrothers, and one former Sith Lord knew better: this is a lesson in humility. Yours? Absent. You reap what you sow, and that involves your pulse in your ears, and the too-certain surety that you’re not alone out here?

Well.

Best keep running, then.

Your boots stick. Your lungs burn. Your limbs tire.

Running for hours in aimless circles will do that to you, and only the promise of what’s to come slows you up.

And worse? You can see the citadel in the distance — an end destination that’s still too far away to save you when all that’s left is your shredded ego and soaking clothes, the harsh Dathomiri landscape only part of the problem:

There are three apex predators on your heels, and what they’ll do when they catch you is only part of what gets your heart racing.

You’re making too much noise.

Startled, you shriek as your ankle catches and you pitch forward, face-first into the water. It rattles the nightghasts. Several take to the sky as you hit, the water stinging, burbling over your head for just a second. You gasp, wrenched up to your knees and dripping, crawling in your haste to get away from the eyes that watch you from along the edges of the treeline:

Three pairs of them: bright in the gloom.

There’s laughter too.

They scatter, and when they do: darkness falls, turning the flanking gravethorn groves impenetrable, save for the understanding that every ragged breath you manage to steal is a guttering metronome that speaks to the failures of overconfidence and your pathetic, tiring human body.

“I can still hear you!” you shout, because in spite of it all, it takes nerve to call them out.

They don’t want you to tire.

They don’t want you worn and pliant and desperate.

But if you ruin yourself in the effort to escape them, if you stop fighting the urge to give in for just one second —

You’ve lost.

Maul promised as much.

And if they catch you before you reach the citadel steps, far off through the swamp on the other side of the trees, you only have the assurance that what they’ll do to your body will leave you helpless; destroyed utterly. No mercy offered. Not good for anything else. A plaything, promised to three siblings who’ll take what they want and lock you up in one of the citadel chambers.

Such was the weight of the wager: ownership.

Silence descends as you haul yourself upward, marching forward towards the nearest outcropping of rocks: sheltered beneath the sprawling network of branches that blot out the red sky and its sun.

You breach the shore. You drag yourself up. Listening intently for some indicator as to which direction they’ve gone:

Three against one.

One step forward, legs shaking, you duck under the trees, uncertain of your steps across mossy rocks and boulders, each footfall leaving impressions.

Not good.

Not good at all.

“The water wasn’t a bad idea, exactly.”

The whisper falls from overhead, wrapping you in its velvet-rough embrace: soft enough to raise the hair on the back of your neck when Feral speaks again:

“It should have covered your tracks. It ought to have concealed your scent.”

You turn, seeking out his figure, turning on the spot as you stagger deeper into the gravethorns, haunted by the bulbous pods dangling in the distance. He’s nowhere. You can’t see him.

“The problem is that we would know you anywhere… when you’re that wet.”

You shiver, the sound right beside your ear, ripping you around as if he’s only just behind you; as if he’s playing with his dinner.

Staggering backward, you still can’t see him: the youngest of them, the most skilled hunter because Feral spent the most time on Dathomir.

Your heel catches, and the world overturns: your legs snapping out in front of you as you soar upwards, lifted, leaves and branches falling away from a net. Your legs poke through the harder you struggle, dangling not six feet off the ground in a trap meant for a larger creature.

Overhead, perched on a limb, Feral studies you: his golden gaze slitted. Shrewd. Patient as ever — as if he expected nothing more from the clumsy human who thought she might best him.

“Do you know how I know that?” he asks you as he rises from his crouch: bare to the waist and perfectly balanced in supple boots. When he steps off, falling the distance and landing so softly on nimble feet, he approaches with leisurely interest, keeping your spread-eagled struggle at eye-level.

A hint of a smile lingers: like he’s known the whole time how he’d best you, but he’s been saving those confessions for a demonstration… the smug bastard.

Feral’s gaze descends, past your heaving chest, down to your writhing, struggling hips — seated in a web of thick cords, knees spread and vulnerable. The trap is so large that it swallows you, pressing in with its rough fibres and too-large knotting so that the bonds rub and chafe and press in uncomfortably.

He eyes your crotch, a small smirk curving his mouth at the corners.

“You’re dripping.”

Somehow, you don’t think he means the bath you took in the swamp.

“Yeah?” You lean forward, face pressed into the bars of your prison, tits mashed into the cords, the weave prohibiting movement. “Who was sniffing at my crotch to start with?”

His grin fits his namesake as he leans in.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

A vibroblade sputters to life in his grip, pulled from a hip sheathe and bright in the gloom. You suck in a little breath, not sure yet if he means to threaten or free you yet.

“Beg me for it,” you bite back.

“I won’t be the one begging for anything,” Feral promises. “Of that I’ve never been more certain.”

The crackle of his knife sings along your inner thigh. You stop moving, breathing hard. Watching.

“W-what are you doing?”

He doesn’t cut the cords, but rather, a sizzle, and the heat of the weapon sings through you — slivering the weave of your trousers so quickly you barely realize what’s happening.

“Don’t move, love,” he warns you, the tips of his fingers touching yours where you grip the cording. It’s your only reassurance, but you barely notice:

You’re not on the same side anymore.

He is not your friend. Not with that hungry gleam in his gaze.

You’re barely even breathing when he stands back to admire the slit he’s created, straight through your cottons. A skilled hunter can also skin and trim their prey, you think, and Feral is good with a blade. Too good, maybe.

“See?” Feral says, but you barely hear him over the roar in your ears, your body practically pulsing.

It can’t be over so soon, you think: dazed as his fingertips hover just shy of your panties — admiring the little sodden, transparent mark of your lie.

“You like this,” he tells you.

His thumb brushes the plush flesh of your mons, leaving you clenching on nothing, your cunt flooding as his knife makes quick work of your trousers as he slits open the leg fully, and then the other.

You whimper.

Feral leans in — so close now you can taste the heat of him. “Don’t you?”

There’s no way out of this, you think, but you know what he wants of you — it’s that particular something that appeals to their dominant natures: the allure of power; of victory, of besting someone into submission.

Feral smiles at you through the bars of your prison, the plush mouth of his close enough to kiss — to breathe the air that whispers across your cheeks and collar, as if considering how he intends to devour you.

But here’s the thing:

You’re going to put up more of a struggle.

You’re going to claw at his pretty face.

It’s expected.

It’s invited.

This is the game.

He’s not at all surprised when you lunge at him.

There’s only the bright glitter of his laughter and your snarling, thrashing, tearing at him —

The ripple of crimson overhead whips by so fast you miss it as the cords sever, sliced through beneath the branch to dump you in a heap to the forest floor, kicking off the weight of rope and leaves. You pitch backwards, scrabbling to freedom as the lightsaber extinguishes, secure once more in Savage’s palm from having thrown it, and summoned it back to his palm with a snap.

He’s freed you, but for no good purpose: you can feel it.

The Force thrums. The swamp burbles. Your trousers are in tatters. But two Zabrak look down on your heaving, crumpled figure.

“You walked right into this, little one.” The rumble of amusement is hard to miss, but if Savage wants to mock you, he can do it from a distance.

“That’s a you problem,” you breathe, getting to your feet. “You think you’ve won.”

“You did free her, brother,” Feral agrees, and his nonchalance grates.

It’s Savage who drops forward, falling with a thud that shakes the soft floor with the fall of his heavy boots. He rises, the tips of his horns raking the low-hanging branches, the gleam of his gaze in the gloom burning forever — like the thought of you sprawled at his feet is something that’s consumed him.

“We taught you better.”

You press your knees together, everything winding tighter at the purposeful way he looks at you: like he’ll pull you apart.

There’s only the one path out. They’ve corralled you.

“Please —“ you whimper, knowing that it means little, but praying to gods that never belonged to you has little effect.

“I do wish you would beg,“ Savage murmurs, and the crush of foliage is deliberate: two steps as his shadowy figure rises even higher over you. “Beg me to stop when I pin you down and pry you open: spread-legged and open-mouthed and yielding.”

The image strikes low and hard, and without breath enough to whimper, you know what he wants.

“Try it, Savage. See what happens,” you manage.

Feral chuckles, the sound rolling up your spine. “I like that she’s got some fight left in her.”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

You feel the raze of claws slivering upwards, plucking your clothes away from your skin as the heat and hardness and scent of Savage envelopes you —

The promise of teeth on the back of your neck and your face in the mud such a visceral, hungry surety that you shiver.

“Not yet,” he murmurs.

But you feel the change in his breathing.

Savage cuts a sharp grin.

“I will fuck you into submission, little one — your wrists held over your head and your cunt stretched around me while I bruise your hips, but you will give me what I crave first.”

A memory of claws raking over the front of your panties lingers, your soft spots sodden; your stomach jumping.

Everything trembles.

He could have you right here. He could spread you over him while he pushes your mouth onto his brother’s cock, directing you to suck like your life depends on it, making sure you don’t spill a drop, but Savage isn’t done yet.

Your mouth is dry, but you ask him, “What’s missing?”

“Get up.”

The command in his voice is lower than the promise of rain after thunder: Savage is a marcheon of Maul’s growing kingdom and his right hand, through and through, and whatever traditions linger from his early years on Dathomir, they are not forgotten:

His fingernails are gritty from dirt, his chest broad and smeared with red soil, but there’s strength in the way that he tenses: all that power bunched down into muscles that are as hard as the heavy length between his legs, visible beneath his trousers and beginning to strain.

“Do as I say, little one.” There’s amusement in his warning, like you’re being stubborn at the prospect of crawling before royalty.

“Why?” you ask, petulant and wanting to provoke a reaction from the stoic prince, but you already know the answer.

“I want to taste your fear like I can taste your cunt when I put my lips to your skin.”

It furls in your belly, twisting into tension that smears your inner thighs and kicks your heartbeat into a gallop: fear edging into your peripheral vision, darkening the world around you so for a moment, all that sits between you are a few, shivering breaths as Savage falls to perfect stillness.

All of Dathomir is quiet, but not as quiet as Savage’s whisper:

“I want you to run.”

Further to the original point: Dathomir is an inhospitable wretch of a world — overgrown, unchecked, and intent on cutting you down as your stumbling, ragged run pitches you into the veiled mists that creep between the gravethorns as the dead leer from their burial pods. You bark your shins, the branches slash at your bare legs and sensitive palms, and everything endeavours to bring you to your knees.

They even gave you a head start —

But there’s hardly a point to that when the dark opens its toothy maw and insists on drawing blood.

Small cuts and slivers leave you smeared and dotting a trail, but if you let the pain drive you forward you find yourself less addled by the prospect of being hurt. There’s clarity in it: a little wisdom imparted on you by Maul once upon a time.

A little pain whets you so that you hear every glug of the Dreaming river, every snapped branch, and every footfall that broils up the ripe scent of decay as you tear through the miasma that wisps from little inlets, making the shadows breathe.

Fear smothers.

But pain? Pain offers clarity: heightened sensitivity, better spatial awareness, the too-reality of the world around you lifting you above the adrenaline that jams your senses.

Pity this trajectory has given them a leisurely path to follow —

You notice as much when you stagger to a full stop, your lungs burning as you sag into a tree. Knees uncertain and muscles spent, you leave a smear — dark against black bark. It’s not noticeable to the naked eye, but to a predator’s nose it’s a marker painting your location in neon.

“Spent already, love?”

Feral’s laughter rings, spiralling downwards into your resting place, and exhausted, you whimper. He’s not even breathing hard. You never even heard him.

You can practically feel his lips against your ear when he whispers, “Are your legs shaking yet? Because I think we can do better.”

You shove forward, limbs coltish and uncertain after tearing through the wood.

“Climbing might’ve been easier,” Savage agrees from up ahead where the shadows shift. “There’s refuge in the trees; caves in the mountains too to hide in, if you don’t mind the bane back lairs.”

They’re practically on top of you, their voices echoing as you stagger forwards, making pathetic little noises the betray your exhaustion: whimpers and nonsensical pleas without form.

You double-backward, cutting a line sideways to the stream where the silted depths burble up marshy gasses and your feet sink and stick.

And as you look behind you, wanting to see for yourself how close they are, you stagger at the wink of gold eyes shining too brightly: two pairs of them haunting your footsteps.

Your ankle catches, but your gasp is a half-hearted thing, the trees that have been reaching for you scraping past every sensitive piece as you strike hard enough to leave you winded.

The ground thumps with that particular, hollow resonance that leaves you crumpled and breathing hard, the urge to cry threatening. Your clothes are shredded, your body is bruised, but you make claws of your fists into the mulch and rake furrows as a frustrated howl builds in your throat.

Forehead to Dathomir’s soil, you bellow.

You scream.

You howl like an animal —

Summoning the last of your will to snarl and spit and wail your throat raw.

When you rip around, the path is empty. The trees are dark. Stars absent. Not even a nightghast dares venture nearer to you, a wounded creature ready to tear off the fingers of anyone who dare approaches.

The gravethorn grove slumbers, silent.

Only the creak of branches in a dead wind lingers, but it’s no comfort. You pull yourself to your knees with scraped palms, and you look up.

There’s no one.

No one at all.

They’ve left you, you think — and why that’s so much worse, you don’t realize at first though it creeps towards you with a certainty: all is not as it seems.

It feels…

Cold.

“Get up, love.” Feral again, but there’s an edge to him now.

You don’t dare dismiss it, because you realize now why they’ve been toying with you this whole time: they’ve been waiting for him to join in the fun.

And just like that, the shadows part:

Fifty yards away and closing in.

A moving slip of darkness — a true hunter; the heir apparent of Dathomir.

Forty five.

Forty.

Your heart slams against your ribcage, your vision tunnelling to a fixed point that’s growing closer the longer you wait. Determined. Head down. Arms pumping. Chest bare. Eyes like firelight.

The last bit of your conscious mind shuts off, and all that’s left is small, shrill voice of transcendent panic that screams through your veins: run!

Scuttling backwards, you twist and scrabble to your knees, no longer feeling the rocks and sticks and slithering things beneath your feet as you pelt head-long into Dathomir’s dark. No sense of direction. No regard for the fallen trunks in your way. You shear through them, no longer feeling your legs; your weaknesses a thing of history. Terror drives you. Maul is a killer, and you — you are the hunted. You are prey.

You leap. You soar for freedom as the ground rushes by beneath you —

Pinwheeling.

Lesser creature.

Straining for freedom —

Collision.

The strike catches you in the midsection: a rough connecting blow that shoves the air from your lungs and rakes down your ribs with claws meant for tearing. They shred through your shirt.

Your legs tangle, the impact of the fall buffered by a shoulder that is not yours. He hits first, wrapped around you so that you bounce and tumble, but the arms that have cradled you take the brunt of it in a roll. The world upends, spinning hard and fast so that the dirt and grime of the descent puts you down face-first into that rich loam, gasping and tasting earth. Hard hands on your body drag you backwards, your ass connecting sharply with a slap against hips that you feel in your cunt.

Scrabbling, you claw into the dirt and pick up handfuls of debris, fingers sliding off vines and roots as Maul releases your hips.

You try to twist away, but it doesn’t work —

Air touches your skin before you even realize he’s torn it all open, leaving you exposed to tooth and claw, the fist in your hair wrenching your head backward and exposing your throat.

No words.

Only sound.

Only your ragged panting, throat clicking open and shut, the night around you singing in your blood.

Only the heat and pressure of little uncomfortable twigs and stones digging into your knees. Only the scent of musk and blood. Only him, bending you to his will as he makes his claim.

The growl against your ear is a promise of retribution against a mate that doesn’t behave, but you claw at the arm that crosses you. You roar as he shoves your knees apart, loud enough to drown out the snarl and snap of his teeth against your earlobe: his breath is a wet heat.

Digging your nails into his arm, you claw at him. It does nothing at all.

“Mine,” Maul breathes.

Your panties tear with a pathetic, elastic pop that snaps at your waist. The aftershock stings, but its a distant discomfort. You forget all those little pains in a heartbeat.

There’s no warning: just the hardness and stretch of him sheathing into you to the hilt. Your body bucks, frozen at the shock of the intrusion, and unable to draw a breath, you’re overwhelmed at the feeling of his cock; his teeth.

Maul thrusts once like its a warning, but you’ve no wind to even keen at the surprise crunch of muscle and skin beneath his mouth. It hurts for just a second — the surprise and shock of being marked without warning leaving you fumbling, clawing at the dirt when he tosses you forward to your elbows and snaps his hips.

His ridges ripple, making wet sounds as your body struggles to adjust.

There’s no time. It’s too much.

There’s no way you can fight when he angles just slightly, hitting that spot that bursts stars behind your eyes. Claw-tipped fingers dig into the back of your neck, and Maul snarls just the once like he commands you, striking at it over and over without mercy until your body snaps around him: “Come.”

Relentless.

Everything shudders to wakefulness, the moment shimmering before the drop trembles — and you hover at the precipice of desperation, clenching hard on him as he delivers you to oblivion and keeps rutting so that each slap of his hips shoves you over that edge and out of yourself.

You can’t even breathe.

Darkness threatens. Stars burst in your vision.

This is heaven. This is abandon.

He doesn’t stop.

Each thrust of his cock pummels you deeper into the dirt, screaming, over and over:

“Maul, Maul, Maul.”

You’ve found your voice at last: it’s hoarse and reality turns ragged at the edges, leaving everything tunnelling down to the feeling of being claimed by him — as if there was ever any uncertainty to whom you belonged.

He grunts, giving your hips a squeeze, and then your ass as he unsheathes, leaving you cold and slicked and pulsing on nothing. Maul paints the backs of your legs with his release, breathing harder, his laughter a certain, dark thing.

Maul utters in a hoarse murmur, more growl than a summons, “Savage.”

And you know in that moment they’re only getting started.

Fingers take the place of his cock, easing into you two at a time, a thumb weighted against the pucker of your ass. Maul rubs himself to stay hard as the world blurs and you feel the first inklings of your bruised and tender places.

He moves before you, lifting you to your hands and knees with two fingers under your chin, a thumb to your lower lip, spearing between your teeth to open your mouth for him.

The cadence of the fingers inside you don’t change, but they thicken as another finger is added -- a heavy hand caressing the curve of your ass and squeezing it hard enough that you whimper; that your knees buckle as you try to shy away from a firm grip.

“That’s good,” Savage says. “She’s still throbbing.”

Maul’s thumb prevents you from speaking, pressing it deep into your throat and holding it there a moment. The little clicking sound of protest as you reign in your gag reflex is nothing shy of miraculous.

“Keep her coming,” Maul murmurs, watching you with that predatory interest. “Until she learns her lesson. It does not seem fit to leave one who is so boastful wanting.”

And it’s in that moment you realize that while you might be sated, his brothers are not.

“We’re all going to fuck you, darling; one after the other until it’s seated in your memory; until there’s no question of ownership — that when someone asks you, ‘to whom do you belong?’ you’ll never hesitate to answer.”

The press of Savage’s cock stretching you elicits shuddered moan, and he pops in two ridges before you gasp at the intrusion. You throb beneath the grip, his clawed fingers digging into your hips — as much an adjustment for him as it is for your body.

“You’re going to take every inch,” Maul tells you. That you close your lips around his thumb and suck is an involuntary response to the surprise push of Savage’s girth. It burns a little, and you moan into Maul’s palm, eyes fluttering shut. “And Feral is going to teach that mouth a lesson.”

Your own spit streaks your cheek when he withdraws, gripping your jaw and holding your mouth open, like he’s considering what you’ll look like stuffed from both ends.

“Every part of you — your cunt, your arse, your mouth, your fingers — every bit of you belongs to Dathomir,” he tells you. “Do you understand?”

Savage grunts behind you.

He thrusts, impatient.

You arch, and Maul’s grip loosens enough to let you take his brother in one shuddering push.

Breathing hard, you can feel the pulse of Savage’s heartbeat through his cock. He’s buried so deep that the brush of his heavy balls touches the tops of your thighs. Why that makes you wetter — knowing he’s hilted so deeply that you can feel the brush and sway of them — you can’t think about.

“Gonna come again,” you manage, and if there are tears streaking your cheeks, you don’t yet know if it’s because you’re relieved or because once won’t be enough for him.

Savage wraps a hand around your hip, placing two firm fingers to your clit, circling it hard enough that you buck up into him. His chest provided a buffer against your back, the hard heat of every muscle a comfort under any other situation, and you can’t help but whimper as one large palm spreads over your chest — and handful for long fingers.

“Good,” he murmurs into your ear, that low rumble of thunder so self-satisfied that you shiver. “I want you to. Spread over my lap like this so I can feel that little pussy flutter.”

You clench on him, and he chuckles.

“When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk later. We’ll have to carry you to the pools beneath the citadel, and we’ll bathe you and treat your little injuries, and when you’re warm and comfortable, we’ll do it all again: one after another, making sure each one of your tight little holes can take every inch of us.”

You blubber something incoherent, pawing at him but too addled by the promise and too stuffed to protest, but you manage with your waning capacity to withstand the pleasure:

“Promises, promises. How about you prove it.”

Savage nips your ear, his mouth pressed to your neck just beneath it so each huffed breath leaves your restraint in slivers. His hand circles your throat — not squeezing, but in a show of dominance.

“Try and fight me, then,” he challenges. “We’d love to see it.”

You grin, eyes slitted, but Savage doesn’t see the what Maul sees: a prey creature caught beneath the hips and hands of a larger predator, but not intimidated — only ready to fight for freedom.

To Savage’s credit, he actually snarls when you sink your teeth into his forearm.

He jerks, and thrusts in shock, hard enough to almost buck you off, but you sink your nails into his arm and you hold on — clamping down hard enough to draw blood.

Feral’s laughter rings around the clearing, and in a show of self-satisfied defiance, you gasp open when Savage rips your hands off him — both your wrists snapped to the dirt above your head while he slams into you from behind.

“She bit him,” Feral chortles.

You make a note to take a piece of him too if he’s going to gloat about it.

Later, though —

Your body trembles, each strike of Savage’s hips jostling you forwards into a place where your cries become soundless, your insides shuddering like he’s attempting to rearrange your pieces.

You’re coming.

One surprised bleat of pleasure doused by another, stronger and guttering, but Savage doesn’t cease, he only maneuvers you to better see you stretch for him — slipping out to check how you strain and gape before pushing back in.

“Brother.” It’s an invitation, you’re just not certain for whom anymore.

The ground falls away as Savage lifts you, repositioning your body so that you’re forced to your tippy toes, tethered by your hips and the enormous cock inside you. He returns to your clit, rubbing with a vicious sort of precision which leaves you writhing and a little disoriented — too addled to protest and too small to do anything but take it when Savage lifts your body by the hips and resettles you around him.

You scrabble a moment, your contact with the ground uncertain.

“Surrender to it,” Maul tells you.

“Let me use you little one,” Savage says, triumphant, “I’ll make sure you come again.”

“I can’t —“ you start, but he strokes you down his cock once more, and it feels so good that you’re not sure. It feels like you’re falling forward, and it’s everything to claw for purchase against whoever’s closest as Savage rolls his hips. The ground swirls below you, the sudden vertigo too much. You whimper. Everything shudders.

“Brother,” Feral says. “Bring her here.”

You gasp as Savage lowers you, letting you descend almost to your knees, trying to crawl forward but slowed by the steady rhythm of his hips as he rolls his cock inside you. Touching everything. Working you open.

Savage pulls out again, and you cry out when he spits, thumbing your ass as if its the last bit of innocence you have left and he wants to own it.

“Look at me, love,” Feral says.

Savage pushes in, and you’re so full for a second your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open.

“Kark,” Savage grunts. “Squeeze my cock.”

You don’t know how close he is. You don’t know if he’ll ever stop.

“I can’t —“

Everything’s raw. This is a losing battle.

“You can,” Feral promises.

That half-sly grin Feral wears is so sure of everything when he cups your face; when he pushes back your hair and brushes out some of the debris with his fingers.

He leans in, nipping at your lower lip so tenderly you moan for him. It’s a breathy sound as Savage continues, rocking you against his hips, his knees keeping your legs pinned. You take every inch, eyes tearing from the heavy slap of his balls against your clit.

It’s good, even when he pulls out to tap your cunt — slapping it a little while he works your ass into submission.

“Oh stars —“

You could touch them, you’re so close to that fathomless dark.

“Focus on me,” Feral murmurs, on his knees and dipping in to taste you. He sucks your upper lip into his mouth, leaving you straining for his shoulders to hold onto as he smiles into the kiss.

Savage grunts, pulling you back onto him like its a competition for your attention. And even fucking you with one finger, he’s still winding you higher.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Feral asks, and he’s right: his tongue in your mouth leaves you with the lightest trace of smoke and sweet, filling you in a way that’s more tender than the moment affords.

“We’re just going to fill you up; make you forget everything but the feeling. Make sure you never want for anything.”

Savage growls something, his restrained thrusts growing a little more forceful.

“We’ll take care of everything, just as long as you remember —“ Feral kisses your cheek; the corner of your mouth as Savage’s movements turn sharper. “You belong to us.”

Savage grunts. “Now, brother.”

He rises, your chin in the cup of Feral’s hand an invitation.

“Open,” he murmurs, the fastenings of his trousers loosened to free his length.

You blink up at him, your lips already parted as Feral’s cockhead brushes your lips.

Eyes darkened, amusement glitters. Maul watches, hungry still.

“Don’t go soft on me, Opress,” you manage, staring up at him.

“I promise,” Feral whispers, “you’ll love this.”

There’s no preamble when he slides in so deep in a single thrust that you choke. He chuckles, stroking your face.

“I’m going to fuck that bitchy little mouth, now,” like he’s been waiting for this moment since you first started running your lips after dinner — a what’s for and comeuppance for every bratty thing you spat at him. Feral pauses to get a better grip on your hair.

“And you’re doing to swallow it.”

You gurgle around him, the salt and musk sweetness of his skin delicious as Feral starts moving against your tongue. His breathing clicks, and you loosen a little as his cockhead brushes the back of your throat, and again, pushing deeper.

Feral groans, and for a second he holds you against him, your nose against his pubis, and you just drool on him and down your chin.

“That’s good.”

“Hold her, brother,” Savage murmurs, and then they’re both fucking you in tandem.

It takes less than thirty seconds, the pulsing heat of Savage spilling inside you as hot as the cum that paints your ass when he pulls out, his thumb with it. You buck on him when he gives you his fingers, curling inside you so you have something to come on when Feral spurts down your throat, rasping a harsh command to, “Swallow,” that your addled brain obeys, tonguing the underside as if you can drain every drop from him.

You’re still coming on Savage’s fingers, the ache of it mingled with exhaustion; throat raw and voice rasping as Feral withdraws only to tip your face backwards.

There are teeth on your shoulder: Savage’s, worrying a little mark into your skin that hurts less than Maul’s bite, and Feral’s fingers soothe the edges of your breasts as he tastes his own spend in your kiss.

“Mark her, brother,” Savage tells him.

And you hiss as you’re handled, pulled into strong arms as Feral licks at the juncture between thigh and hip, putting a nip into you too like a final punctuation mark on your evening.

The forest falls quiet as everyone exchanges glances, smiles between them, and you too — limp in Savage’s arms and grinning.

“How was that, darling?” Maul asks from his vantage point against a nearby tree, his arms folded, gaze smouldering.

You kick your legs a little, glancing down at yourself: covered in their marks and their juices, and giggling. Sated and ready to be bathed, cradled between them for a good rest after they tend to your bruises.

Your body is a ruin, you couldn’t possibly come again, but oh — you grin — it was worth it.

“Next time,” you suggest, winking, “maybe I do the chasing.”

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queen-haq · 2 years

Text

Fic: Alive - Part 13

Summary: Aidan traced the thin chain around his neck, rubbing the infinity pendant between his fingers. No longer a symbol of their everlasting love, it was something he touched in anger when he thought of Sage. It was the only thing of hers that still remained with him after eight years, the last possession which still connected them together. When he 4did find Sage again, and he would no matter how long it took, he planned to destroy the pendant - and her.

Taking place across two timelines, Alive tells the story of Aidan and Sage, high school sweethearts driven apart by who they are and where they come from. Once enemies then lovers, their relationship runs full circle when they meet again in the present, now prepared to destroy each other.

My Masterlist (contains links to previous parts)

Rating: NSFW

The car ride was thick with tension, the air filled with such uneasiness Sage wanted to scream. She kept stealing glances at Aidan but he didn't seem to notice, his focus fully concentrated on the road ahead. At least his hand was on hers, their fingers intertwined together, and occasionally when he tightened his grip on her, she was comforted by the thought that he wasn't completely out of her reach – despite the wall of silence he'd put up.

She had confessed to falling in love with him, and although not expecting him to say it back right away – ok, fine, a part of her really hoped he would – she also didn't think he would shut down the way he had. Her outburst seemed to have caused him to withdraw into himself, first telling her he needed to be alone – leaving her sitting in his car at the airport parking lot for almost half an hour – and then declaring he was taking her home. No acknowledgement of her feelings, and definitely no discussion about it.

This cold facet of his was not something she was familiar with. Hell, even when they hated each other Aidan had been hot-blooded and fierce with his cutting remarks designed to bait and provoke a reaction in her, but this... she didn't know how to deal with this and she didn't like it. Unfortunately she was also too much of a coward to do anything about it and so she remained silent along with him.

When he pulled into a hotel parking lot, she was caught off-guard. "Thought you were taking me back."

"I'm tired. We'll head out in the morning."

She walked beside him as he carried her stuff, watched him while he booked them a room using a fake ID – all the while seething with frustration. Once they were alone in their room, she finally snapped. "What the fuck, Aidan? I tell you I'm in love with you and you act like I just gave you the time or something."

Walking away, he sat down on one corner of the bed and proceeded to take his shoes off. "No, you said you think you're falling in love with me. That's not the same thing."

"You're really gonna bitch about semantics?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"How about something? Anything? Instead of acting like an asshole?"

"Fine! You want the fucking truth? I wish you hadn't said it. I wish you'd kept that shit to yourself!"

His words hurt more than she'd expected. "Why? Because you don't feel the same?"

Silence ensued while he simply sat there. She didn't know what to do when he was acting this distant. This wasn't like him, not at all. If anything, he was always the one pushing her to open up more, and now that she had – he just seemed like an entirely different person. Something wasn't right. Unsure of what to do, she sat down next to him and reached out to touch his arm. Instantly he stiffened, his body rigid with tension. "Aidan, look at me." He didn't, his gaze still cast downward. "Look at me."

"No."

Reminding herself to be patient, she stood up, moved to kneel down in front of him and cupped his face gently. "What is it? What's wrong?" Now that he was forced to meet her gaze, it was like a dam within him burst.

"I'm a fucking mess, Sage."

The sudden onslaught of anguish in his voice broke her heart. "No, you're not."

Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers. "You should be with someone better, not a fuck-up like me."

"Oh, and you think you have the right to decide that for me?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I hope not, otherwise you just implied I'm too stupid to make my own choices."

His eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "I'm really not in the mood for another fight. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

"No!" she fired back. "You don't get to say something that idiotic and then pull the 'I'm tired' card."

"Fuck!" Frustrated, he fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling for a long while, quiet but restless, the hum of his soft breaths the only sound in the room. She contemplated prodding him to speak but knew that would only make things worse. Instead she lay down beside him, waiting, watching, worrying. After what seemed like forever, he finally spoke.

"You know what's the worst thing about being part of my family?"

Her stomach churned with anxiety. Remembering the scars on his body, she placed her hand on his chest – a gesture meant to comfort him as much as herself. "The pain?”

He flinched. “It's not what he does. It's what he says. That if I wasn't who I was, if I wasn't such a fuck-up, if I was a good kid, if I was like Theo, then he wouldn't have to discipline me."

"Stop!" She covered her hand over his mouth. The thought of Aidan believing that crap simultaneously infuriated her and filled her with dread, and she had no idea how to deal with any of it. Sitting astride his hips, she directed him to lock eyes with her. "Your dad is the monster, he's the fuck-up. Not you, never you. Nothing you do or ever did, nothing about who you are justifies how he hurts you. Do you get that? Tell me you get that. Please."

He kissed her palm before moving her hand to speak. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm pissed at you! I can't believe you think that about yourself. How could you?"

"Because I've been told that my whole life. My dad, my mom. Even she thinks if I didn't push his buttons, if I just acted like a goody two-shoes when he was around he wouldn't-"

"Your mom's a fucking idiot!" Sage spat out, and instantly regretted her venomous tone upon seeing the flash of anger on his face. When it came to his mom, Aidan was very protective – which was something she didn’t understand considering the woman did nothing to stop the abuse her husband doled out at Aidan. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't have." Reaching up to caress the length of her arms, his hands affectionately rubbed her sleeves. The heat of his touch cut right through the fabric and onto her skin, leaving her tingling all over. Aidan, however, didn't seem to notice as he was lost in his thoughts, distant once again.

"Hey, talk to me," she urged, running her fingers through his hair.

"Cat said I'm hard-wired to be fucked up."

"Dumbass Barbie come up with that all on her own?"

Focusing his attention back on her, a small smile played across his lips. "I love it when you get creative with your insults."

"Does that mean you like me for my brain?"

His eyes twinkled with mischief. "That, your tits, and your exceptional oral skills."

She smacked his chest. "Yeah well, I only like you for your looks."

"Who can blame you? I’m pretty hot."

"And about as sexy as a Ken doll."

"He is pretty fucking sexy."

"Shut up."

"I get so hot when you boss me around."

There seemed to be a shift in his temperament now that he was flirting with her, but she knew him well enough to realise this was simply a way to distract her from discussing his self-esteem issues. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't about to fall for it. When he tried to undo the button of her shirt, she snapped his hand away. "No, I want to talk."

"Then by all means, talk. Don't let me stop you." His gaze wandered over her chest while his fingers busied themselves unbuttoning her shirt again. "If you're naked, I'll pay more attention."

"Liar."

He grinned, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the sight of his smile. Sometimes she forgot how strikingly beautiful he was, which seemed strange considering Aidan was supposed to be one of the hottest guys in school, but the fact was she just wasn't attracted to him when he'd treated her like shit. And now, well, everything was different that she'd gotten to know the person underneath the layer of jackassery and fallen in love with him – yet his good looks still caught her by surprise.

As he removed her shirt and threw it to the floor, she became acutely aware of his hard body underneath her. When he ran his thumbs over her nipples, a sharp jolt of electricity surged through her and she trembled. "Aidan?" she murmured, granting him her most flirtatious smile.

He sat up, encircling her in his arms. "Yeah, babe?" He unhooked her bra, skimming his lips along her shoulders.

Fisting his hair, she forced him to look at her. "Do you like it when I suck you off?"

Swallowing an audible breath, he stilled for a minute. "The answer to that question," he replied, his voice hoarse with desire, "is always yes."

"Want me to do it now?"

Aidan cocked his eyebrow. "Yeah."

She gave him a chaste kiss, nibbling his lower lip, before pulling back to look at him. "I will. I'll do whatever you want, but promise me something."

The greens in his eyes darkened, revealing his anger. "Now who's manipulating who?"

"I don't ever want to hear you call yourself a screw-up, or spout any of that bullshit your father says to you. Because none of it's true. None of it. And if there's a part of you that buys into his shit, just remember that I love you." She kissed his left cheek, then the right cheek, before locking eyes with him again. "I love you exactly the way you are."

The tension in him was palpable. His eyes brimmed with an inexplicable darkness that worried her. She waited with bated breath, hoping he would reassure her he loved her too – but then reminded herself that that wasn't important. What really mattered was that he believed he was worth loving.

And then, suddenly, he was no longer frozen but caught in a flurry of movement as his hand fisted the back of her hair, pulling her close, latching his mouth onto hers and kissing her with a fierceness that was both terrifying and thrilling.

While he removed her bra she struggled to do the same with his shirt but eventually gave up because there wasn't any part of her could focus with his tongue assaulting her senses. His fingers traced and marked her skin, digging into her, rough at times and tender during others, playing and taunting, until Sage, breathless and frustrated, finally pulled away. Eyes locked with his, their breath ragged, she reached below to stroke him over his pants before unzipping him to pull out his cock.

The sight of him caused her to catch her breath.

Four nights ago she had given Aidan a handjob for the first time, initially intimidated and then enamored by his naked body. He may not have been the only guy she'd fooled around with, but what she shared with Aidan was so much more intimate than stolen moments with her crushes from before.

Three nights ago was the first time Sage had sucked him off.

Sometimes she wondered if he wanted her to do things differently and was too worried about her feelings to tell her, yet when they were together and she was the sole focus of his attention all of her insecurities seemed to vanish. Every part of her trembled under his gaze, secure in the knowledge he wanted her exactly how she was – inexperienced, imperfect and all.

Instinctively she slipped her fingers inside his mouth. His eyebrow quirked up as he regarded her with surprise and then awe, and the uncertainty she felt about using him to lubricate her hand disappeared. When she wrapped her fingers around his already slick cock, caressing him, he held her stare for only a minute before closing his eyes. Leaning into her for support, he groaned with pleasure against her neck, teeth scraping her skin, fingers bruising her while she pumped him slow and then fast, fast and then slow, working him in a rhythm that followed no pattern.

As she tried to untangle herself from his arms in an effort to kiss her way down his body, he lifted her in one swift motion, rolled over, and pinned her underneath him. Caught under the spell of his penetrating stare, her heart pounded erratically in her chest. "Don't you want me to-"

"Shut up," he ordered, an affectionate smile fleeting across his face as he lowered himself and dropped a kiss on her temple. His lips grazed across her eyelids, tracing along the curve of her nose, her lips, her neck. His mouth closed over her left nipple first, sucking on the puckered nub until she was a quivering bundle of nerves writhing underneath him, and the pleasure intensified even more when he followed suit with the other nipple. Her fingers threaded through his hair, clutching onto him for dear life. It was chaotic and intense, this maddening rush to possess and be possessed by him, and the more he laid claim to her the more she wanted to succumb.

A small bit of sanity returned once he sat back on his heels, positioned between her legs with his hands atop her bent knees, but it quickly diminished once she noted the potent hunger in his gaze. What was it about the way he looked at her that always left her feeling flustered, panicked, wild and out of control – as if she was about to jump off a cliff? And yet, despite the frenzy of all those volatile emotions he evoked, she also knew with complete certainty he'd be jumping right along with her.

Cupping her ass, he raised her hips to ease her jeans and panties down her legs. The cool breeze humming from the air conditioner struck her naked body but it was only heat she felt, heat emanating from the smoldering darkness in his eyes and the warmth of his breath as he nibbled the insides of her thighs. White-hot desire coursed through every nerve and crevice in her body but it all paled in comparison to the sudden shock of ecstasy that swept over her when his mouth found the most sensitive part of her. His tongue lavished her, his lips teasing her clit in such a way she almost jumped up in response, and he moved a hand to her stomach to hold her down.

He fucked her with his mouth and fingers and the pleasure built inside her, hurling her senses towards the ultimate explosion. Her fingers dug into the mattress to alleviate the pressure but it didn't work and so she covered her hand over his and their fingers laced together in a tight grip. Although the force with which he clung to her was painful, it also forged a connection between them in the whirlwind of madness they were both drowning in.

She was his. He was hers. Nothing else mattered as long as they were together.

Her moans escalated to full pitch screams and when orgasm finally struck, it knocked her breathless. Ripples of pleasure flooded over her and she gave into the thrills, surrendering to it completely.

It was the act of him squeezing her hand that eventually brought her back to reality. She opened her eyes and found him studying her, a hesitant expression marking his face.

"Sage, you want me to stop?"

There was a fierce need in his voice but there was also concern. He looked torn, not wanting to push even though he was dying to sleep with her. "Do you have a condom?"

His eyes glazed over with joy, and his face broke into a wicked grin. 'Yeah, of course."

She smirked. "You were that sure you were getting laid tonight?"

"Tonight? No, maybe not tonight." He took a condom out from the back pocket of his trousers. "But I knew it was going to happen, sooner or later. Especially since you can't keep your hands off me."

"Ah, ever so humble."

"Modesty’s for losers."

"Arrogance will get you nowhere, Aidan."

"Not true. It'll get me inside you."

She chuckled. "I should just tell you to go fuck yourself."

"I'd rather fuck you. Way more fun that way."

As he removed the last of his clothes, exposing all the scars that marred his body, her heart ached at the sight of them. How long would the marks be there? Would they ever go away? And then she was struck with the horrible thought of all the new wounds that would inevitably come next.

"Babe, you still with me?"

Turning her attention back on him, she ran her hand down his chest. "Always."

He greeted her with a sexy lopsided smile before ripping the condom package open.

Panic unfurled in her stomach as she watched Aidan slip on the condom. Although tender and beautiful in his intensity he was also entirely too hard in his current state, and knowing what was about to come next filled her with anxiety. How the hell was he supposed to fit inside her? He was too big. The mechanics didn't make any sense. And she knew – just knew – it was going to hurt like hell. Feeling flustered, her heart started palpitating, so much so she wondered if it could explode out of her chest.

"You okay?" His hand gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Yeah."

"Still want to do this?"

Aidan had asked her before if she felt safe with him. At the time her answer had been no but now – she didn't know. Her arms enclosed him, clinging to him, kissing him, and subsequently the fear began to drown in the hurried frenzy of passion that swelled over her. Except he didn't seem to feel any of the urgency she did, not even when her hands swept down his back to cup his ass. Instead his fingers lingered on her skin, delicate and light as feather, while her excitement intensified to the point where she began to unravel from within. Heat coursed through her body, she tingled with excitement. Soon, his all-too-soft caresses were simply not enough. Reacting instinctively, she curved her legs around his waist and arched up against him.

He groaned, the guttural moan drenching in raw sexual energy, before rising above to study her. His gaze cast a spell over her and she lay utterly transfixed under him. Seconds, minutes, hours, she had no idea how much time transpired while she held his stare, lost within the dark desire in his eyes. Her hands ran between his shoulder blades, tracing the scars on his skin, when he bucked his hips to slip inside her.

The sensation of being penetrated was unlike anything she'd experienced before and she gasped, partly due to the discomfort but mostly because of this newly forged intimate bond between them.

Aidan whispered sweet nothings in her ear, cajoling her out of her frozen state, and the soft murmur of his words made her blush from head to toe. Slowly the physical awkwardness gave way to something different. It wasn't pleasure – it hurt too much to be that – but simple exhilaration at the realisation she did feel safe with him. Finally she could accept that her feelings were real, genuine, and this all-consuming fire between them wasn't born out of loneliness but something more meaningful. They were connected forever; it was an undeniable fact, and she didn't have to be afraid of what that meant anymore.

He lowered himself onto her, his weight pressed against her, their skin slick with sweat, arms and legs folded together so she didn't know where he ended and she began. As her body shifted and adjusted to take him in deeper with each thrust, she felt increasingly frantic, and clutched at his back to alleviate the heightened sensation. Gripping him, she kissed the side of his face.

"Hold on."

He rolled over in one swift motion and she found herself on top, straddling him. His hands curved around her waist, lifting her hips in slow strokes, and her eyes widened with surprise at the keen thrills of pleasure that ran through her.

"Like that?"

Her response was a soft moan as her head lolled back, breath coming out in short spurts. She was the one in control now, setting the rhythm, grinding her waist in circles around his cock.

"Sage!" he growled.

Body taut with anticipation, she was edging towards that ultimate rush when he grasped her tightly to maneuver her underneath him once again. Her eyes flew open, taking in the smouldering passion that burned in his gaze. His hands laced through her hair, tugging at her strands, and an expression of pure ecstasy crossed his face.

"Fuck!" He came hard inside her, his body shuddering at the intensity of it.

She held him for the next little while, caressing him lovingly while he buried his face in her shoulder.

When he spoke next, his voice was hoarse, breathless, and filled with disappointment. "Sorry."

She tried to get him to look at her but he refused to budge, his face still resting in the crevice of her neck. "Aidan, it's okay."

He didn't acknowledge her words, instead nipping her neck as his fingers found her way to her clit, thumb brushing against the tightened nub, teasing it, stroking it. Within seconds her body convulsed, trembling, tightening around him as pleasure flooded over her.

*****

Later that night she was awakened by the sound of Aidan closing the bathroom door. He climbed into bed beside her, she turned around to face him. Light streamed in through the window, casting shadows that danced across his skin. Marvelling at his incandescent glow, she wondered how it was possible he could look so volatile yet serene at the same time. Then again, he was a study in contradictions. It was one of the things she loved about him.

Giving her a small smile, he pulled her close. His fingers played with her hair, hers drew lazy circles on his skin. The air hummed with comfortable silence between them.

"I wanted everything to be perfect for you."

She smiled into his chest. "It was."

"Come on. I couldn't even wait long enough for you to come," he said, sounding angry.

A soft blush spread across her cheeks. She still wasn't used to discussing sex with the same frankness he did, but she forced the shyness aside. "It doesn't matter."

"Yeah, right."

Remembering that Aidan measured his self-worth in how great he was at sex, she reached up to cup his face. He reluctantly met her gaze, the shame in his eyes breaking her heart. "My first time was with a guy I love. How many girls can say that?"

"Love isn't all it's cracked up to be."

She pulled away, taken aback by the bitterness in his voice. There seemed to be nothing she could say to make him feel better, and was quickly reaching the point where she was too exhausted to try.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, balancing his head on her pillow. "I know I'm being an ass."

"Yeah, you are."

"I told you, I wanted things to be perfect."

"If they were, I wouldn't be here with you right now. I'd still be in Chicago and you'd probably be with Cat."

"Don't bring her into this. She has nothing to do with us."

"Except she's my sister and you slept with her," Sage pointed out, leveling him with a keen gaze. "Don't you think that bothers me? That I really fucking hate it? But it happened, and there's nothing I can do about it." Turning her back on him, she faced the wall. "You keep telling me to accept things the way they are now. I'm trying, It's not easy, but I am trying. Question is, are you?"

Resting his chin on her shoulders, he laced his fingers through hers. "She doesn't matter, not anymore, and it's not like I'm ever going to have sex with her again."

"Because she dumped you?" Sage muttered.

He tucked his fingers under her chin and directed her to meet his eyes. "Because you're the only one I want. You. That's it. I'm done with hot girls."

"Gee, thanks."

"If I promise to stop acting like an ass, you swear to let it go and forget about Cat?"

"There's no way in hell you'll be able to keep that promise. You're a born jackass."

He smirked, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "True. Okay, how about this? I promise never to fuck her again."

"You mean that?"

"Yeah. Absolutely."

"Even if we break up at some point?"

His body stiffened. A dark expression covered his face, reminding her how nervous she felt when the angry intensity in him took over. "We're never breaking up."

There wasn't a hint of doubt in his words, his voice filled with complete confidence.

Before she could respond his mouth latched onto hers, kissing her with an urgency that left her incoherent and totally, completely caught in the spell he weaved.

*****

Now...

Picking up his pants from the floor, Aidan started dressing himself before taking a seat on one corner of the bed. As he put on a pair of socks, a sultry voice interrupted from behind.

"Leaving already?"

Looking over his shoulder, his appreciative gaze roved over Cat's very naked, very sexy body. Straight, blond hair reached just above her shoulders, her tanned skin complimenting those striking blue eyes. She was fucking gorgeous and fully aware of it.

He smirked. "Don't want your boyfriend to come home early and find me here."

Crawling into bed behind him, she rested her chin on his shoulders, her fingers undoing the very same buttons he'd just fastened. Her tongue traced the curve of his ear seductively. "Wouldn't it be so much fun if he did?"

"You just want two guys to fight over you."

"Well, duh. Who doesn't?"

"I don't like kicking a guy when he's already down. And seeing as I just fucked his girlfriend-"

"Always the gentleman, I see."

He stood up to search for his shoes, pausing momentarily to admire Cat's small, perky breasts as she lay down on the bed in front of him. One thing he really admired about Cat was her absolute confidence in herself. Most women in his experience, especially the more beautiful ones, needed constant assurance about their looks. Cat, on the other hand, didn't need or care for other's opinions, the only one that mattered was her own.

"I was thinking-"

"That can't be good." Flashing an incorrigible smile, he fished out his shoes from underneath the bed where it must have landed earlier when they were ripping each other's clothes off.

"Of moving back to Cali," she continued, ignoring him.

"And leaving poor Bob behind?"

"It's Robert, not Bob, and yeah. I'm getting tired of him. The other day he was talking about getting married."

"To you? He's obviously nuts."

"Hey!" she protested, picking up on his mocking tone. "Anyway, marriage isn't my thing, you know that. So I'm thinking of cutting him loose."

"You can dump the guy and still live here. You don't have to move back."

"I'm tired of New York," she sighed. "Maybe I can crash at your place for a few months."

He stilled, giving her an incredulous glance. "Because you're hard up for cash?"

"No, asshole. I just thought it might be fun."

Walking over to the dresser, he sprayed some mousse onto his hand and ran his fingers through his wet hair, attempting to rein it under control. Studying his reflection in the mirror, he regretted not shaving the scruff on his face when he showered earlier. Unfortunately he had a meeting with his agent in less than an hour and, considering that was the purpose of him coming to New York, it would be foolish of him to be late.

"Are you ignoring me?" Cat asked from behind, irritation evident in her tone.

He turned around. "Look, you and I both know that's a stupid idea."

"You can still sleep with other people," she huffed. "I plan to."

He smiled at her matter-of-fact tone. Always practical when it came to sex, Cat wasn't one to be tied down by emotions. Another thing he admired about her. "Let me think about it?"

Glaring at him, she sat up. "Are you kidding me?"

"What?" he snapped back. "I like my own space."

"No, you're worried if I stay with you I won't let you mope around like you do now. That is, when you're not fucking everything that moves."

"That's rich coming from you."

"Fuck off! At least I'm not a pathetic loser who's still hung up on a high school relationship."

Furious rush of rage flooded over him but he refused to lose control in front of Cat. He knew damn well she would file that away in her memory and use it to taunt him in the future. "I'm not going to talk about this with you."

"She dumped you. Get over it!"

"Says the girl begging to move in with her high school boyfriend."

In one swift motion Cat picked up the lamp on the nightstand and threw it at him. He swerved out of the way just in time and the lamp struck the table instead, breaking into pieces upon contact.

"You really think she's pining over you? Oh, please. She's moved on to bigger and better things, unlike you who's still chasing after her like a bitch in heat."

Although the thought of Sage being happy without him made Aidan want to retch, it also helped fuel his need for revenge, to destroy everything she held dear. Hell, her moving on was a good thing, he assured himself, because then the satisfaction of breaking her apart would be even greater. And when the hold she had over him was finally severed, he would be free again. Normal. No longer consumed by Sage. Lost in thought, he didn't notice when Cat picked up a pillow and flung it at him.

"Hey Einstein, did you ever wonder why you still haven't found her?" Cat taunted, a cruel sneer twisting her face into a hateful scorn.

Naked or not, she was the farthest thing from sexy at this very moment.

"I mean, even you can't be that dumb. You must realise there's a reason your private dicks haven't turned up anything useful."

His eyes narrowed on her face, his stomach twisting into coils. "What are you babbling about, Cat?"

She gave him a smug grin. "Dad's been paying them off. I really thought you'd figure that out by now. Guess I gave you too much credit."

At first it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He was angry, then confused, and angry again, his emotions scurrying all over the place as her words registered in his brain. And then, just as suddenly, a cold, controlled calm settled over him. Everything fell into place, it all made sense again. Cat was right. He really should have figured out sooner why the private detectives he'd hired had never been able to get anything concrete on Sage, but in his quest for revenge logic had taken second place to his emotions.

"What? Nothing to say?"

She was waiting for him to explode, but he couldn't care less. "Thanks, Cat. I'll see you around." Within seconds he was out of the apartment and heading towards his hotel, the meeting with his agent no longer a priority. Truthfully, he had far more important things to do, like going back to California and interrogating Thomas about Sage.

@bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers, @idaofinfinity - tagging :)

#romance novels #original fiction #enemies to lovers #alive #my fics

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miiamour · 3 years

Text

pretty in pink

fem!reader x luna lovegood

summary: you and your girlfriend, luna skip your date to do something more intimate.

warnings: smut, nipple play, thigh riding, tribadism, mommy kink, skirt kink?, edging, cunnilingus.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i’ve been feeling extra gay lately so here you go. the dom in me did not come to play..

⊱ ──── ˗ˏˋ✧*♡*✧´ˎ˗ ────⊰

it wasn’t your plan to be in the position you were currently in; luna rutting against the thin cotton of your pants. originally the two of you were supposed to have a picnic near the blacklake but instead here you were; sitting on the edge of the bed while she got herself off on your thigh.

once who saw her in her pink skirt that stopped at about her mid-thigh— you simply couldn’t resist. her fair porcelain legs were smooth with small caramel freckles scattered everywhere; as if they were sprinkled on.

it was innocent at first. all she did was straddle your thigh to give you a sweet kiss, no intention of getting off on it. but when you grabbed onto her waist, pulling her closer, you felt her flinch from the friction. then you bounced your leg out of excitement and a whimper fell out her mouth. you couldn’t possibly restrain yourself from doing it again— and again.

her delicate hands gripped onto your shoulder, scrunching up your blouse but you honestly couldn’t have care less. the only thing on your mind was luna, and the way she dragged and thrusted against your thigh, the way her eyes fluttered with every movement, the way her waist fit perfectly in your hands.

the moans that left her lips resembled violins, her whimpers were like harps. everything about her was utterly beautiful. your hands moved all around her torso following along the curve of her body until the landed on the buttons of her top. you impatiently unbuttoned it, revealing her white lace bralette.

“this for me, love?” you asked her while caressing her chest through the see-through material.

“mhm, yes mommy” she went faster with every second your hands stayed on her skin. you followed the hollow of her collarbone with your finger all the way to the strap of the bralette.

“arms up” you demanded more than asked, and she obliged.

once the bralette was off, you placed soft quick kisses all around her chest— purposely avoiding her breast. luna squirmed, her back arching in an attempt to push her chest closer to you.

you wrapped an arm around luna’s waist and pulled her closer as your lips began kissing her breast, easily leaving purple marks. you moved your lips so that they slightly grazed across luna’s nipple which caused her to moved faster and closer to your mouth.

your tongue circled her hardened nipple which resorted in luna wrapping her arms around your neck. although her intent was to grasp onto something so that she could please herself faster, it also resulted in you taking her tit in her mouth which added on to the inferior pleasure.

it was a beautiful picture; luna in nothing but a pink skirt as she was desperately rolling her hips not being able to fully let go. the knot in her stomach was tight and it seemed impossible to undo.

you looked up at her, mouth open in a perfect O shape, and her eyes closed in dedication to reaching her high. it was almost too much of a sightly scene to destroy— almost.

you swiftly lifted luna off of you and moved her to lay on the bed. small whines fell out of her mouth, as did the lack of touch.

“pretty girls don’t whine” you pouted mockingly. luna laid flat on her back as you shuffled down in between her legs. you kissed, licked and sucked her ivory thighs, even nibbling once or twice at her freckles. you felt her legs twitch in anticipation.

you spelt trailed your tongue through her and you both groaned simultaneously. without warning you began dragging your tongue through her folds, lapping at her arousal. there was nothing better than this; watching her writhe underneath you and tasting her— it was better than a cold glass of water on a hot summer day.

you swiped your finger through her. you placed sloppy wet kisses all over her cunt. your tongue circled her entrance as your finger teasingly lingered around her nub.

in a sudden movement, your tongue delved into her, twisting and turning inside of her. her hand grabbed onto your head, tugging on your hair while moans filled the room.

“mhm, so good. yes— merlin” she blabbered liked a baby as you continued to thrust into her.

you looked up at her, one hand was on your head while the other was kneading her own breast. her back was arched away from the mattress and her eyes were closed in pure bliss. your eyes studied every inch of her body, every freckle, every curve, everything.

you lifted her legs and placed them on your shoulders, finding a better, deeper position. you enjoyed it nearly as much as she did.

“i’m close mommy, so close” she whimpered, the new positions causing better pleasure. arousal pooled at your core at the mere sight of luna nearly losing it.

so again, you had to ruin the pretty sight of luna writhing. you moved away from in between her legs and luna pressed her lips together to keep from whining.

you stood up, and slowly undressed yourself as luna watched attentively. you slipped you pants off, your shirt following soon. you moved back onto the bed and bent down to give luna a sweet kiss.

you settled in between her legs, with yours on either side of hers. you lifted her right leg, allowing it to rest on your shoulder. you slowly lowered yourself onto her. your bare cunt barely grazing against hers.

“please mommy” was all luna could mutter, a smirk played your face and you were actually going to teasingly move further from her heat, until—

she gripped you hips and slammed you into her, moans filing the entire room as she guided you. you would’ve definitely punished her— if you hadn’t been so aroused by it.

but yet there you were, allowing luna to control you and you loved every second of it.

heavenly; the only way you could’ve possibly described it, the seraphic feeling of her skin on yours caused your mind to go foggy with lust. with every movement better than the previous, you were sure you had been making love to an angel.

luna moaned and cried, the feeling being too much yet not enough. it was the third time she had neared an orgasm and she was dedicated to finally let go. every thrust caused your nubs to nuzzle against each other, adding onto the euphoric feeling.

your hands were each settled on lunas tits, squeezing and kneading as she cried out of pleasure. her face was twisted an ecstasy, pretty as a a picture— if you could, you’d photograph it and keep it in your wallet.

“please mommy, i’m close, so close! can i come, please!” luna begged as you rutted against her.

“hold it” you moved faster. the knot in your stomach was tight, almost painful. elation running through your veins. her touch was intoxicating; her skin felt like fire against yours, there was nothing but a thin layer of sweat in between the two of you.

luna’s hand slide down to you core, her thumb suddenly circling your clit. “now! fuck—“ you cried out.

euphoria overtook the both of you, you’re legs shook as luna pulled you on top of her— gripping onto your shoulders while her head nuzzled in your neck leaving sloppy thank-you kisses.

you turned your body so that luna’s head rested against your chest. you pulled a blanket over the two of you as the room suddenly seemed much colder than before. her blonde hair tickling your neck as you drew circles into her shoulder.

“you did so good for me, baby” you cooed as she began falling asleep.

“thank you mommy” she muttered as she curled into your arms.

“mhm” you reached towards the lamp near your bed and turned the light off.

you placed a kiss on luna’s temple, “luna?”.

all she could do was murmur a “hmm?”.

“i didn’t forget about your sudden dominance today— don’t worry, you’re tired tonight and i’m feeling nice so i’ll just wait for tomorrow”

taglist: @keepawaythenargles @anywherebuthere @myloveforluna @ga-bitch @miss-starkov @starlight-writes-stuff

#lunas bae asf #luna lovegood #luna lovegood x reader #luna lovegood smut #luna lovegood x you #luna lovegood x y/n #luna lovegood fanfiction #luna lovegood fluff #luna lovegood fic #mia’s work #ronbrokemyheart—nsfw

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goblinshork · 3 years

Note

Ok so what abaut Bodyguard and Agony whith a a naga prince that just hates the royal life and dreams of just having a simple life living in a cottage and selling homemade jewelry, so Reader his childhood best friend, personal bodyguard and person who he feel in love whith decides to make his dream come true (bonus if the prince has a sister so the kingdown whont stay whiout a ruler and she helps Reader whith the plan, bonus+ if the prince is kinda huge and scary to other people but he is just a chill dude that likes to make rings and necklaces)

Short scenario please! (Also sorry if its too long, feel free to just ignore this if you whant)

Not too long at all and I think it's an extremely charming idea! Thank you for sharing; big gruff, undercover sweeties are one of the most Choice(tm) archetypes.

This also got super long, but the vibes were singing to me.

Features: Slight angst, happy ending, kissing

Bodyguard + Agony (Monster Ask Meme)

Hands, Touching Hands (m!Naga x gn!Reader) [3.7k]

“Don’t lie, how many names do you remember?”

Alok yawned, curved fangs peaking out from almost-lips.

“None, thankfully,” he said, scratching at his curls, cut short enough that they barely formed.

“Impressive.”

“Oh—no, you won’t distract me. You agree with me don’t you?”

The book Alok had toyed the entire briefing slammed shut, the many bracelets at his wrist clinking for emphasis when you did not answer.

Watching him unfurl his tense length of tail, broad shoulders rising far above you as he 'stood', there was little to say but, "It’s not my place."

"Then it’s not mine, either."

He slunk toward the door and you picked up the book--the monstrous thing--with your arms rather than your hands before following him.

"Just give it time," you said in a reassurance that was too shallow to drown his mood.

Every move forward looked painful as he slithered forward like a child first learning to move against stone rather than soft grass. Unlike when he was a child, he was stilted by frustration rather than inexperience.

The conversation was left dropped, burning like the weight of the tome in your arms. If you were alone, you'd tell him to carry it. But servants, nobles, and royals passed frequently, all low bows and murmurs, moving on a touch quicker than polite.

When you first arrived to the kingdom, a slave dressed sweetly and presented as a gift, you'd marveled at how anyone could find the royal family intimidating when removed from their wealth and status.

Baby yellow skin and soft pink dapples painted everyone of them. Alok, himself, was more pink than yellow, and it reminded you of those delicate, painted dolls you'd press your face against glass to get a closer look at before being shooed away by the shop-keep.

You supposed little had changed since then, except now you were simply stared at, expected to keep your fingers off the pretty pink glass always, always in front of you.

The hallway Alok stopped moving forward in was empty, private; his. Without a word, you tossed the horrible book toward his crossed arms and swept the windows, floors, and ceiling for anything strange. His fumbling for the book, fingers audibly skimming against pages, made you smile.

"It's clear," you nodded. "Workshop, right?"

Alok deflated a bit, too caught between the mention of his workshop and pretending to have perfectly caught the book to keep his anger stoked.

"You're asking now," he said flat, looking from the book to you.

Putting up your hands in mock defeat, you turned, alert enough.

"I'm not angry at you.” The slits that served for his pupils, deep red and small in their focus on the gem he was cutting, turned to you when you said nothing in response.

“Sorry, I--” was dazzled by your eyes? Was enamored by how passionate you are for perfecting that sparkling little gem? “I know.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

You stretched from your place beside the door, perched on one of the few chairs at your disposal in the entire castle, “Thank you.”

“Don’t be patronizing,” Alok grumbled, pausing in his work. “I know...I know very well you must be tired of this, even if you won’t say it.”

The window was suddenly so interesting, your throat burning as you swallowed down the feeling kindling there.

“This is my home,” you said after hearing the scales of his tail shift closer. “There’s nothing to be tired of.”

Slowly, his hand rose to hover over yours, where it lay on your lap, “But you should be. I’d give you anything you needed. They couldn’t stop me.”

Everything you wanted to say was tucked in the patch of air that separated his touch from yours.

Any person, bought and raised to be singularly loyal would hesitate at the offer of freedom, wouldn’t they?

They’d want to grab his hand, wouldn’t they?

You could only guess as a love for a prince was not something to be said aloud unless you were allowed.

And you, a slave turned body guard, were not.

Standing, you scattered the almost-moment with a shake of your head, “I don’t care about freedom half as much as you think I do.”

His hand fell limp to his side, the slits that served as his nose flaring wide, as you continued.

“I’m your bodyguard and I’ll be your children’s bodyguard and I’ll be the same to whoever you choose from that book,” you finished, thoroughly shooing yourself away, wanting so much to run out the door.

Alok said your name quietly, but you remained silent.

And everything was still until it wasn’t.

In one smooth motion propelled by his sheer size, Alok stretched to the book and hurled it out the open window.

“No, you won’t. I’ll be their prince,” he said low, body suddenly too large for the room. “But I won’t be their king.”

You did run, then.

Perhaps the only place off-limits for a would-be king allergic to potential suitors was his sister’s drawing room.

Adur payed you no attention as she demanded entertainment from the brightly colored darlings and dark patterned beauties of the upper echelon.

“Did you know, I simply adore the pattern of your bangles lately,” she cooed, pointing to a decorated tail. “So perfectly in style.”

She continued on, picking this and that to sigh over, as you stood against the corner that provided the best view of the room, next to the door.

You recognized each piece she fawned over as being similar to something Alok had on display or nearly-done in his workshop. Ah, to know a magician’s tricks.

Melting into a squat, you let their voices wash over you. No heart could hurt for long listening to women enjoy court gossip as much as this bunch did...from a distance.

When you, Alok, and Adur were younger, the rules seemed less stone and more like blades of grass, flexible and beneath you. Adur set you in front of her always revolving group of friends and tried to fit tail bangles around your thighs and waist. Alok insisted you sit side-by-side while studying geography, arithmetic, and etiquette. You lay between them on sunny afternoons, napping, legs touching tails.

But everything golden goes grey eventually.

“Well, do tell me. Did he throw it in the fire?”

You turned from the window, swapping red, setting sun for sharp, red eyes, “Out of the window.”

The room was empty but for you and her now. Adur pacing around, tail making quick work of circling the room as she read from her collection of letters.

“Still the amount of melodrama I expected so,” she shrugged, raising shoulders toward her pleased mouth as a silent finish to her sentence. “I, on the other hand, did pick.”

You rose, legs tingling from the sudden change. “Who?”

“Prince Talsa,” she said after cutting open a letter with her claw, “I’ve already decided on a short engagement and a respectable wedding down south. Perhaps closer to his kingdom than ours.”

“Talsa? Not rare one who everyone’s after?”

Adur looked at you as though you should know better before deigning to explain, “Prince Talsa is rather plain looking for a naga, yes, but that’s just the point.”

“Go on,” you said, wanting so much to be distracted.

“Think about it,” Adur scoffed. “Rare, beautiful babies create wonder amongst people, but children who look as though they could be born anywhere....don’t you see the appeal?”

She leaned against the window, long black hair obscuring her pink and yellow face, “They would be royalty that even the most common of folk could feel familiar to--feel endeared to. Even someone as devoid of charm or pretense as Alok could gain some favor. From their birth, I’ll have them attend every little festival and celebration. Their bond with the people will be unshakable.”

“You’ll make the best queen,” you said, unthinking to the implication.

“Has something happened to Alok?”

“No, you ju--”

Adur turned to you, delicate face empty, “It doesn’t matter what we know. He’s the eldest and alive and destroying a book won’t change that.”

Your hands shook as you laced them together, risking at least your life, by asking:

“What if we could change it?”

Everything in the little room lacked splendor, save the jewelry that her brother displayed to no one but himself, built only to separate Alok from his mentor. A failed attempt to elevate a man too gargantuan to grow further.

Even the flooring was rough on the tail, not smooth stone but brick for retaining heat. Only care for function within these four walls.

Adur noted her brother’s tail was bare as she swept over the lacking room, only his leather work belt draped over the apex where tail met torso. Every bit of jewelry he wore crowded his wrists and fingers, noisy as he worked on some large bangle unfamiliar to her.

He looked haggard, frown too ugly and deep to be a mere product of concentration. Grey tickled the roots of his bangs, pronounced enough to shine in the lamplight. Alok was getting too old to be a prince with only time for his hobby.

“Sometimes I think it would be kinder to simply put you out of your misery,” Adur said, closing the door behind her.

Alok’s back tensed, but he did not pause his work, “I’m surprised you said it out loud, but don’t say it like a joke.”

“Don’t be so serious,” Adur sighed, “of course it was a joke.”

“Where is--”

“Your human delight? Running errands for me.”

Alok did turn then, face flickering through emotions too fast to name, “They’re just as much your dear friend as mine, you little viper.”

“Forgive my callousness, but I find you respond to little else,” Adur said, picking at the sheer fabric of her top so it draped correctly against her arm again. “And perhaps they are my friend. But they are not just yours.”

“I won’t be king...even if they weren’t here.”

Adur laughed in a sizzling tone, forked tongue dancing with humor, “Oh? And I suppose your little fantasies of running away involve you doing so alone?”

Only the flames licking back and forth in the small forge answered her.

“You’re too old to be deluding yourself like this,” she went on, dropping a bottle and a sheer robe on Alok’s work desk. “It’s time to make choices once and for all, brother.”

“I’m not--”

“I’m not asking you to rule. You’d be pathetic at it, yes, I know. If not for our dear human friend, you’d have flunked every tutor save for your precious jewelry maker.”

Alok curled back over his tail, fingers picking at the fabric of the robe his sister had dropped. “Then what are you asking?”

Hand on the doorknob, Adur smiled, “if you had your way and left to live like a common man with your human, would you really never come back?”

“Never.”

Adur opened the door. “Good.”

The drider--Woodnet? Woodne? Wodner?--stayed near the the door as you did, but unlike you his sleek, black legs rested on a few thin lines of webbing where wall met ceiling.

Slowly, Alok raised his face to address the bodyguard, entirely unused to being the short one. Worse still was the struggle to match sights with the correct pair of the drider’s many blinking eyes. If you were here, you’d have nudged him to follow your lead already.

If you were here...this wouldn’t be happening in the first place. Just another wishful thought to swallow down as Alok struggled to stay polite in the face of his father’s prime bodyguard.

“Outside the room is fine,” Alok said in a clipped tone, turning as he did to avoid dealing with anymore niceties.

“Forgive me for questioning, Prince Alok,” the drider said, voice drifting down like floating silk. “But bathing is when you are most vulnerable. I can not help but object to the risk.”

The drider polished each word, in no hurry to finish his sentence and Alok’s eyes rolled once--twice--thrice by the time there was silence. If only this were any guard other than his father’s favorite.

“I understand,” Alok said. “But, the windows are trapped and you will be guarding the only entrance.”

The sound of burdened legs skittering down stone, followed by the opening and closing of the lone, stone door was his answer.

Driders were generally no longer friends of Alok’s kingdom. Wodnel....no, Wodni perhaps, was a relic of a time long gone, when his father was just proving himself a leader of a nation. That Wodnir--that was it, Wodnir--was so protective of Alok, having sparsely been involved with him and having been enslaved through ruthless, warmongering means made Alok’s shoulders bunch, the muscles between protruding over scales.

Is that how it was between you and he? Did you feign fondness and care or was it true? Was it true but maligned of him to hope for it due to how you came to be near him? Because of he was?

Alok disrobed and slunk into the hot water, hoping to drown his pithy doubts that crowded so large in his mind.

Flakes of shed rose to the top the longer he soaked, proof of a difficult shed. There was sure to be more bits to come as he scrubbed himself with the, apparently, ‘to die for’ body scrub his sister had left last week.

You were usually the one to soothe his bubbling stress in a life of constant politics and decorum, but the bits of dead skin were proof enough that Alok truly was getting too old for delusions. You’d only been away for a week and a spare number of days and here he was, so tense that not even a hot bath could unfurl him.

Ugh.

Politics and decorum. How would he survive tonight without you? Adur was announcing her engagement tonight, in tandem with the nobles emerging from their collective sheds at the tail end of the Harvest Festival.

Alok scrubbed himself raw, hoping to emerge a new man who could weather life half as well as everyone around him. But the harder he lathed himself in soap, the clearer the truth rang.

If only he could have you.

You had relieved Wodnier of his duties, thanking him with a bow, and standing stiff beside the door for precious minutes, waiting for his delicate range of hearing to wane.

As an apprentice, you had met Wodnier often enough to know he wished you well as much as any spider did a fly.

Hammering against your chest, you feared the vibration of your heart was loud enough for him to hear. And there was always a chance the door shutting at the end of the curved hallway was a trap; that Wodnier still stood in Alok’s quarters and was not making his way back to the King.

But you didn’t have time to be safe, only quick.

Jittered by adrenaline, you sprinted to Alok’s room---toe first, heel last--and back, holding your breath once you made it back to the door of the bath.

Sweat pooled against your forehead, but nothing sprang toward you sans the faint sounds of Alok bathing.

You slipped past the door, the pack in your hands bulky enough that the door opened wider than you’d wanted, the hinge creaking.

“Alok?”

The figure behind the curtain froze before calling back your name.

“We don’t have much time, Alok,” you pressed in a sure voice, but your legs wobbled as you neared the curtain. “I’m....I’m running away and I’m taking you with me.”

“What?”

Coming past the curtain, your chest could barely contain your quick breathing. His hair was devoid of any gray, blacker than pitch as it fell just above his ear holes and forehead. Muddy brown and maroon scales were sleek and wet, droplets rolling down his body, even near his---

You looked back up quickly, away from where his belt always covered. “I mean, I want us to run away and we need to go now.”

Having followed your wandering gaze toward the apex of his stomach and tail, Alok frantically looked toward his arms, the muddy water, “What in the fuck is this?”

“Adur is helping us,” is all you said and it was all Alok seemed to need as he picked up the bottle the dye had been in, nodding. “She said it’ll only last until your next shed but, by then, hopefully....”

“She wants to be queen very much,” he murmured.

You tore open the pack, reminding yourself that time was short, and held them out. “Yes. So, we need to go.”

“You have no idea--,” Alok started, before interrupting himself. “I need something from the workshop.”

“We don’t have time.”

He shook his head as he took what you offered, dressing himself in plain leather and thick, scratchy wool. “It will be quick.”

You opened your mouth--- “Please.” --but couldn’t keep firm in the face of his pleading.

“Okay.”

Alok threw a few rings, bangles, and tools into the bag.

“Only enough to sell and get started again,” he assured.

But as you turned to leave the room, his hand was on your arm, pulling you back.

“We--”

“I love you,” he breathed, holding two thick, ornate bangles in his free hand. Both were decorated, from the side you could see, with marigolds, jewels gleaming in the center of their petals. You recognized each one.

One was the size to fit a large tail while the other...

“Alok.”

“I want us to leave belonging to one another.”

Your shaking hands dropped the large bag and his slid to hold both yours in his large one. “If we leave together, we’ll live together too won’t we?”

Even your head shook now, from side to side, hoping to discern the moment as waking or dreaming. “Alok. Of course, because...Of course we will.”

“Oh, please say it,” he said, tugging you nearer still.

He repeated your name and like a spell, you found your words, “We’ll live together because I love you, too.”

His thin mouth, soft and bloodless, fell to yours from his full height, his body curling over you as he pressed against your lips again.

“Let me put it on you,” he whispered, mouth moving against yours as you clung to him.

“Hurry and then we can....Just the bangles and then we must go before it’s too late.”

Careful of his claws, he lifted you to sit on his work table before slipping his own bangle over the small tip of his tail and up further, until it stuck in place under his belt.

There was no time to remove your pants, to mold the bangle against your bare thigh as was intended, but Alok’s thick hands skimming around the metal the entire way up burned as though he were doing just that.

You slid off the table, when the bangle was snug, to melt against him for one brief moment of loving calm, your face rubbing against his neck.

You didn’t have time for more.

After disentangling from his tight hold, you threw the bag at him, near tears as he scrambled to catch it. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m so glad you’re going to be mine instead of a king.”

And then you ran, hand in hand.

“Hey! Heeeeey,” one of the children yelled as the whole group of five ran toward you, kicking up dust on the dirt-packed road. “My momma said that snake man eats kids who don’t do chores!”

“My papa said he can’t help with the festival because he’s growing more arms!”

“That’s dumb, Brittany. My papa is smarter and he said the same thing as Corey’s momma. He’s a kid eater!”

The group shrieked in delighted horror as they squabbled on the specifics of what was really, truly going on in their village.

You hiked the basket in your arms higher after several attempts to respond, loudly telling them to pay attention or you’d leave.

As though pulled forward by strings, they straightened as still as a child could, a few even holding their hands over their mouths to keep silent.

“All of your parents are right,” you nodded, “Every two months he must curb his huge appetite and force back his new, child-grabbing arms so he doesn’t hurt the very naughty children of this village.”

They all clamored to stress their innocence in a cacophony of babbling that soon grew into questions.

“Is that why you live with him? ‘Cause you protect the village?”

“And him,” you said.

“At the same time?!”

“Of course, it’s my job. Now go back toward the smithy before you find out just how many arms he has.”

Lunging forward in jest was enough to urge the children away, all of them teasing the other that they would be last to get there and a snake man’s lunch.

“You’re horrible,” Alok groaned, scales pale pink and yellow from a successful shed. “Soon, they’ll be grown-ups, running us off.”

Hefting the basket onto the dining table, you laughed, “they adore you in secret.”

The cottages here were baked of mud, hay, and a few supportive beams of wood and yours was no different. There was no splendor in the room-less house, but it was truly yours and his. And that was luxury enough.

“They had enough this time?”

You shook the canteen of dye, moving to stand next to him on the low hammock that served as bed, “And the next shipment of birch will contain enough to last us three months or more.”

Alok smoothed his claw down your face, his own expression wistful, “I feel too content to explain.”

You pressed your nose against the pink of his jaw, letting him raise you to straddle him.

“Then show me.”

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucking #monster romance #exophillia #terato #monster boyfriend #naga x reader #naga boyfriend #naga x human #fluffy.foam #new.shork #goblin.writes #conch.answered #alienfromagalaxy #I love adur and it is a shame how much of her had to be cut to make this not a mess #exophilia

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Writer (part three)

Warning - FILTH

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni

Once inside his office, he sat you on the desk and took a step back. His eyes all over you. You took a step towards him, running your hands underneath his nightshirt. Lifting it over his head, your fingers traced his tattoos - Jack had the same ones, from the same regiment. His naked form in front of you, your core pulsed. Pulling him over to the desk you leaned him against it, before sinking to your knees and taking his hardening length in your hand.

"I'm going to get you hard again... You're going to cum down my throat, then you're going to bend me over this desk and take me exactly how I know you want to..." Your eyes bore into his as his lips turned up into a smirk.

"I don't think you can handle how hard I want to fuck you into this desk y/n." You winked at him, before sinking your mouth over the tip of his cock, your hand rolling his balls around your fingers as you sucked him. You could still taste yourself over his cock and it fuelled the fire burning deep within you.

Rolling your tongue slowly over the tip, sinking it gently into the slit at the top, you grinned as his fingers wove into your hair, tugging it.

"Gonna take me all the way?" You weren't sure if that was a question or an order but you responded by pushing your lips over his shaft, relaxing your throat muscles. Taking him deep inside, your warm tongue pressed against the long vein under his shaft, he groaned deeply above you as your nose made contact with his pubic bone.

Bobbing your mouth over him, sucking, grazing your teeth occasionally over that vein, his hips were bucking into you, desperate to feel as much of your warm, tight mouth as possible.

"Gonna destroy that pretty little throat of yours.. you'll still be tasting my cum when you wake up y/n..." He was panting now, his high was so close you could taste the precum in your mouth as you bobbed faster, groaning into his cock. The grip on your hair tightened, he was in charge again, holding your head in place as he fucked your mouth. Pistoning his hips, his voice a deep groan, breathy moans followed by him pausing his thrusts as his cum flowed from him down your throat. Swallowing everything he had, you licked him clean and stood as he fell back against the desk, breathing heavily.

"Holy shit... Your mouth..." He couldn't even finish the sentence. His eyes shone a darker blue as he backed you up against the wall.

His lips on yours, he could definitely taste himself on your tongue but he was a man possessed now, he didn't care. All he wanted was to be inside you again.

You felt his hand between your legs, parting your thighs before roughly inserting two fingers deep within your core. Rutting them upwards, finding his goal with a quick flick of them.

"Oh fuck... Tommy..."

"Found it again..."

"Arrogant little pri - fuck!" He silenced you with a flick of his fingers again, the sensations coursing through you like a tidal wave as he fingered you hard. So gentle foreplay this time, you'd awoke the demon inside him.

"You're gonna make such a mess for me... I'm not stopping until your cum is leaking onto my floor." His eyes on his hand as he watched it pulling inside you. Your cries echoing around the room, his lips now on your neck. Sucking and biting at the flesh, your orgasm building so quickly you barely had time to register it.

"Tommy... Tommy.. it's too much, I can't... Tommy!"

"You can.. this pretty little cunt can take it. You fit so perfectly around my fingers y/n, you're gonna cum aren't you? Dirty little one, cumming hard around my fingers... making a mess of my fine oak floorboards... Let the maids know who's making you scream.."

Your hips were writhing against his fingers, the pressure inside you building to its crescendo - you fell apart over his hand, your juices squirting hard over his floors and legs. His other arm held you in place as you cried his name over and over, his fingers easing out of you as he brought them to your lips.

"Lick them clean." You took them in your mouth and licked your juices from them hungrily, surprised at the sweetness of it. Glancing down you saw he was hard and ready for you again. He had to almost carry you over to the desk, bending you over it and spreading your ass cheeks as wide as he could.

"Fucking glorious..." He groaned, lining himself up against you, before easing inside with one hard, deep thrust making you scream out in an exquisite mix of pain and pleasure.

"Thomas... Fuck me...." You begged, desperate for him.

"Want me to pound you into this desk?"

"Fuck yes..."

"Make your legs shake?"

"Please..." You felt his cock twitching inside you.

"You're gonna scream so loud the whole house will wake up, knowing exactly what's happening in this room?" A sharp smack against your ass made you jump, you swear you nearly came at the contact as your nails dug into the wooden frame of the desk.

"Like it when I spank you? The way your pussy gripped me I'd say you do my dirty girl..." Another smack, before he began to thrust hard and fast, barely allowing you time to register as he fucked you relentlessly. His hand on your hair again, pulling it so hard your back arched, changing the angle of his thrusts to aim them perfectly at your already overstimulated g spot.

"FUCK!!!! TOMMY!!!" Your voice was loud enough to wake the dead but you didn't care. You needed this desperately.

"Gonna cum all over my cock y/n? Show me how much you want this eh?" His words turned you on even more as his thrusts sent your spiralling to another orgasm.

"Harder... Make me cum Tommy.." he released your hair and took your arms under his, almost straightening you against his chest as he continued to pound into you.

Your voice was almost non-existent as your orgasm exploded from you, his thrusts smashing into your sweet spot as you came hard, your juices flowing down his cock and thighs as your reached your peak with a high pitched cry.

"That's it my girl, that's it..." He gave you no mercy, instead bringing one of his hands down to circle your clit, extending your euphoria further.

He suddenly eased his thrusts, taking a deep breath before edging you both over to the chair behind him. Without leaving your body, he eased himself onto the chair. Lifting your hips up and down on top of him. You gripped onto the desk in front of you and continued the pace he'd set on your own, bouncing on his cock as he pulled your hair again.

"Gonna fill me up Thomas? You gonna cum in me?" He growled in response, his cock twitching inside you. You brought a hand down to squeeze his balls between your legs, sending him over the edge.

He pulled your back into his chest quickly, squeezing one of your breasts as he came hard, shooting streams of cum deep inside, panting your name.

Both of you rested like that for a while, his hands gently caressing over your breasts and stomach as he caught his breath. You could feel him softening inside you as your walls clenched and pulsed around him. His lips gently kissing the back of your neck and shoulders.

"Incredible Tommy... Just incredible..."

"You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect..." You smiled, easing off him gently. He stood, lifting your tired body into his arms.

"Now we sleep. Come on," he smiled, lifting your body into his arms and carrying you up the stairs. You were wrong to assume he was carrying you to your room, as he opened the door to his bedroom and carried you inside.

"Why am I in here?"

"Because this is where you belong." He tucked you in gently before climbing in beside you. His arms snaked around your body, pressing his own against your back. Sleep came easier than it had in years, for both of you. His light snoring behind you, his warm, strong arms holding you close, you hadn't felt this satisfied and comfortable in a long time. Bringing his hand gently up and kissing it lightly, you felt his body pull you tighter.

"Stay..." He whispered, almost in his sleep.

You didn't answer, you didn't know what to say. Was he dreaming? Was this just a fantasy fuck for him? You decided to enjoy it for whatever it was, and drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x smut #thomas shelby x smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian smut #cillian murphy x smut

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miridiums-writing · 3 years

Text

Barbarian Bakugou x Plus-sized!Villager!Reader

Summary ; reader loves in village that is ravaged by bararians, bakugou catches them and finds out they are mates

Warnings ; violence, there is implied sexual assault but it never happens kinda like a passing thought. I never actually state gender though reader does wear a dress, so if your someone who doesn’t like wearing dresses then you might have trouble fitting into the narrative. REMEMBER ANYONE CAN WEAR A DRESS, I WILL HYPE YOU UP. They eat in it, also they eat meat so if you’re vegetarian or anything of the sort you probably won’t relate, Bakugou yes he is a warning, swearing it is Bakugou after all.

AUTHORS NOTE ; ill have part 2 out hopefully in a few days, ill link both the petite reader version and the plus-sized reader to each other so whichever suits you better you can read.

Tag list : @squishytenya

Petite!reader version part 1

The village was alight, red ran rampant through the streets, the screams of young and old mixing to create a noise that would give anyone a headache. You were running as fast as you could, no shoes on, trying to pick up your skirts as you ran. You had been woken by a scream and hadn’t thought to put on shoes before you ran to escape the sea of arrows shot at your home. People dragged younger ones through the wreckage, others cried, others shouting for loved ones. Nobody seemed to be left unscathed.

Your feet were in tatters at this point, having ran through rocks and glass to get here. Your only motivation that got you this far, even with the pain you were in, was the orphanage at the top on town. On a slight hill further away from the village, secluded in a way. You hoped against hope the children were ok. You dodged through fire, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You had to make it. You had to keep them safe. Though in your blind panic you didn’t notice the figure stealthily following after you.

You were running up the hill now, twigs that littered the woods floor poking into your poor feet, causing you to slow slightly, but your determination kept you from walking. Just as the orphanage came into sight arms wrapped around your waist. You kicked in attempt to get away, hoping against hope you could escape, get to them. Those kids did nothing to deserve the pain. Your attempts did nothing but tire you more, your hope of escape starting to slip from your grasp. “Stay still dammit” a gruff voice stated. He moved you both back, further into the woods, blocking your view of the orphanage and kept you still.

“Oi Kirishima! Keep those idiots away from the orphanage” He called out further into the woods, not second later a muscular man with spiky hair and even spikier teeth seemed to appear in an instant and disappear just as quickly. With the disappearance of the other man he moved you so you could finally see his face, though his grip on you never loosened. If you were honest with yourself, he was rather pretty. Hard red eyes stared into yours and seemed to judge your appearance as you gaped at him. His blonde locks spiked out, much more naturally than the other mans, he had a defined jawline, and a look that screamed danger. In your curiosity you failed to notice how odd this whole situation was. Here you were being held down by an intimidation and rather frightening man, but you felt no fear towards him.

“Found you” he said, looking at you with a smirk as his face moved closer to yours. Just as you thought he was going to kiss you his face moved lower to your neck and started to pepper kisses and nips into the sensitive skin. You tensed in his hold, not sure what he was about to do, and scared for the outcome that seemed inevitable. Just then he roughly bit into your neck, causing you to shriek at the vast difference from what he was doing before and the pain that started to thump against your neck like a drum. When he was satisfied, he started to lick at your neck, no doubt cleaning up the blood. “There, now that’s sorted time to clean you up and get moving” He tightly grabbed a hold of your hand, pulling you close to his body. “If you try and run you wouldn’t like to know the fate of those kids you so wish to protect so behave.” You didn’t want to know what he could to, so you allowed him to pull you away from the orphanage.

He pulled you both down the hill and towards the town, he hadn’t told you his name and didn’t seem in the mood for light conversation, so you stayed quiet, not wanting to anger the man further than he already seemed to be. When you both got back to the village it was silent. A stark difference between the village you had left behind, and it set you on edge. He must have noticed how you had started to shake a little, though he didn’t say anything on it. “Hide you face into my back, quickly” he said, his voice slightly softer than earlier, though it didn’t stop the unease. Just as you opened your mouth to question it, he gave you a glare that made you close it instantly. You ducked your head down into his back behind him and tried to ignore the strares, questions swarming your mind. “right let’s move out” he shouted, his voice seeming even more loud now you were against his back, making you cringe slightly. With one hand now taking your weight he hoisted onto a horse, repositioning you in front of him to lean against his chest. “Get some sleep, its gonna be a long ride teddy bear”

When you woke you were still in his arms, though you were now wrapped up in a fur coat, keeping you warm from the wind. If you didn’t think about the fact he basically kidnapped you it could almost be sweet. He had positioned you in a way that meant the brunt of the wind was hitting against the fur coat, keeping you toasty warm. He was looking ahead, no doubt keeping control of the horse, though you did notice how he would glance down at you. Due to your position you couldn’t really see anything, giving in to the temptation of going back to sleep for now, who knew when you would be able to sleep again, you let your eyes closed and allowed yourself to relax, your head snuggling into his warm chest.

Your eyes fluttered open at a loud shout, startling you from the fragile sleep you had managed to get. “We’re almost there” He claimed, glancing down at your sleepy form curled into him. Cute. The thought was a fleeting one, but it made him freeze up slightly, he hoped you didn’t notice. This mate stuff was making him soft. The horse abruptly came to a stop and the man carefully gave you his hand to help you jump down. You noticed almost immediately this was much gentler than he had been previously, and honestly threw you for a loop. On one hand this was much nicer treatment than previously, even if he hadn’t been particularly bad, on the other hand what does this entail, does he want something in return? The man pulled you inside what looked like a large tent and pointed towards the bed to sit down, it was covered with fur blankets and looked rather nice and warm to cuddle up in.

“Look here’s the deal,” he said, sitting down on the floor before you, making your face in line with his. “You’re my mate, kinda like a soulmate, I guess. It’s a feeling. My name’s Bakugou Katsuki by the way. Call my Katsuki though, it’ll just piss me off if you call me anything else. Just, listen to what I say. Ill go get you some food, you look like you need it.” As Katsuki walks away you could hear him mutter under his breath “Skinny as anything” When he had officially left, and you decided he was far enough away you started to look around. The tent was rather spacious, but not to the point it was cold. If anything, it was so warm in here. Like an invisible fire was somewhere in the room keeping it warm. The tent itself smelled like wood pine and honeysuckle, and a hint of caramel, it felt more homely than your old village ever did. You knew you had to think through what he had told you, but you didn’t want to even think about it. Taken away from your home after it having been destroyed by them and he tells you you’re his soulmate and you need to listen him.

When Katsuki got back you were cocooned in the blankets, sure the room was warm, but as the night air drew in the rooms temperature seemed to drop drastically, so you had taken it upon yourself to collect all the blankets and pile them onto of yourself. Katsuki stood at the entrance dumbfounded at the sight, as in comparison he stood tall in his trousers and fur coat, with his necklace and earrings to adorn the look. He wasn’t used to feeling cold. He would need to thank his parents later for getting on at him to make sure he had enough blankets for his mate when it got cold. He placed the food down on the table and started picking apart the blankets until he revealed you, cuddling into yourself. “Look, I know its cold but you gotta eat, come on” He allows you to get yourself up, though you take one of the smaller blankets with you to combat the cold.

The meal itself wasn’t anything special. A meat of some kind with potatoes and asparagus. You were so hungry you ate it without question, too hungry to care. He watched you from the other side of the table, it made you slightly self-conscious but brushed it off as his thing, he had a habit of watching you. When you finished you made sure to tidy up your area as best as you could, not wanting to seem impolite. This made Katsuki scoff at you, your insecurity coming back quickly.

“Bed time” was all he said, even though you had been sleeping most of the day, the thought of curling up into the blanket seemed heavenly. As you climbed into the bed, securing yourself under the furs Katsuki came in behind you. He simply brought your body to his, circling his body around yours in a protective manner. With him so close to you, you found it hard to fall asleep. Though Katsuki seemed to find it easy, simply snuggling his face into your neck and falling asleep. You decided to go through your options. Option one, stay still and go to sleep unknowing to what could happen tomorrow, though by his current attitude and behaviour you now highly doubted it being too dangerous, or option two, somehow manage to escape his iron grip and run out of the tent, with no knowledge of where you were, how far from home, or what could be outside the tent. The thought of meeting something worse than Katsuki made you shiver and slightly move closer to him. At least you knew what he was capable of, plus you had the added protection that he claimed you as his mate, those usually ended happily. No one wanted to endanger their mate, it went against Barbarian law. Something you vaguely remembered researching when you were young and curious. With those thoughts in mind you allowed yourself to succumb to the warmth Katsuki provided and fall into a broken sleep.

Please reblog if you enjoyed

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

The Depths

Part Eight of Take Your Time

Two Days | Masterlist | Guilt

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand Rating: M (this may go up—if it does, I will give everyone fair warning before there is any explicit content) Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 🧡

Warnings: Cursing; angst; yearning

Summary: There are moments, small, infrequent moments, when a flicker of guilt passes between Oberyn and Ellaria.

The first day underwater is terrifying.

You’re queasy; you can’t keep anything but tea down. It’s not sea sickness, it’s nerves.

The boats are all in order, your team is set for the dive. Everyone is buzzing with excitement as they look over the plans that you’ve set out for them for the day. The first couple of days will be used for observation, planning, and photography. The water is cool; the visibility is better than anticipated. When you surface, you have fewer bubbles of fear, and more bubbles of nerves. A lot of the structures that you can identify as part of the Old Palace been very badly corroded; some have become artificial reefs for marine life, and you already know that you can’t disturb them, lest it harm the ecosystem that’s taken form. There were a few things glinting at the sea floor, a few materials that you believe are copper, but couldn’t get a good enough look at at the time—your tank had been low on oxygen, and the team in the boat had been urging you to surface for the last hour.

You tug your gear off, sucking in a breath of fresh air and raking a hand over your face. Your team is chattering around you, delighted, volleying species spotted, structures noticed. You cast your eyes back toward the water. The artificial reefs, what they were covering...Well, you’ll have to review the pictures, but you’re certain, based on what you’ve seen in drawings, that those were key components to the upper portions of the burial chambers. If you’re right, then there will be no touching them—the Dornish ecological society won’t allow it. “...Boss?” You turn your head back to your team. Someone’s said something to you and you’ve missed it. You push a smile onto your face. “Sorry guys, what’s up?” -- Oberyn and Ellaria see very little of their archaeologist in the week following. It’s not that they don’t try—they certainly do. They drop in on her classes, leave notes with invitations for dinner or drinks the desk in her office. They even take The Red Viper near the area of the dive once. They see her pulling on her gear just before she drops off of the boat and into the water. Oberyn watches her during one of her lectures. Where she’s had an ease, a joy to talking about these topics before, the archaeologist is now distracted and almost rigid in her teaching. He’s seen the papers, he knows that the early findings underwater haven’t been nearly as promising as she’d hoped. It’s beginning to wear on her, the threat of failure. And there are moments, small, infrequent moments, when a flicker of guilt passes between Oberyn and Ellaria. They know what else lays at Blackmont Cove—they know what she’s looking for, and they know that she won’t find it in the depths. But they’ve kept their anonymity for so long—they’ve managed to stay afloat by being careful. Doran and the Sand Snakes went out of their way to destroy so many depictions of them, save for the ones that remain in Blackmont Cove. If they’re found...Well, it’s not worth thinking about what may happen.

They get the notes that they leave for her back—slipped under their doors or pinned to the bulletin boards outside of their offices. They bear responses like Sorry, the dig is too busy, or, Some other time. This happens for weeks. They can’t even catch the archaeologist after her classes—she steams out of there, and they know she’s headed for the dive. Ellaria inspects the latest note that she left for the archaeologist—another invitation to the open-air market. This one just has a hurried scribble that reads Can’t. She glances up as Oberyn comes into the office, sees the slight calculation and subsequent concern in his expression. “You look troubled, my love,” He says. Ellaria holds the note out for him, and he takes it, looking over the response. She sees his brow furrow just a touch. “A disappointment, but not a surprise,” He passes the note back to her. “I suppose,” She concedes, looking down at the note again. Oberyn rests his hands on Ellaria’s hips as he considers her expression. “...What is it?” He presses. She takes in a deep breath, her eyes flitting around the office. “It’s just...Quite rare that we meet someone that understands so much about...The lives that we knew. It was refreshing.” Oberyn hums, urging her on, and Ellaria meets his gaze, “I let myself get my hopes up, and now it feels...Foolish.” Oberyn smooths his thumbs in soft circles along her sides. “It’s not foolish to want someone, or to appreciate their prowess.” “Yes. You spent many hours appreciating her prowess.” Oberyn chuckles, raising his hand and cupping Ellaria’s cheek, “Be serious a moment.” Her mirth drops away as quickly as it arose, and she lowers her eyes to his chest. “Well,” She says, “Whatever happens, I enjoyed our time together.” Oberyn nods, tipping his head up and brushing a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. “Giving up so easily? Now who is being timid?” He teases. “There is a difference between being timid and taking the proper caution. I attended her class this morning—I’ve never seen anyone so tired.”

-- The Dornish Ecological society is staunch in their insistence that you leave the artificial reefs alone, as you knew that they would. You’re on the phone with them when you hear a knock on your office door. You glance up and spot Oberyn there. Something in your gut clenches—something nervous and twisty. You hold your hand up and point to the phone.

Oberyn nods.

And you figure he’ll leave, but instead he steps further inside and shuts the door behind himself. You narrow your eyes a little bit, lowering your eyes back to the files in front of you and refocusing on the conversation.

“Right…” You answer into the phone, “No, I understand that that species has become a vital part of the Harbor—...I understand, I’m not proposing that we—” It hurts you to press on, “I’m no longer proposing that we raise and restore those structures.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Oberyn still in his looking at your shelves; you see him tip his head back toward you, clearly listening in on your conversation. You clear your throat before you go on:

“But I would like to get a better look at a few of the objects along the sea floor in the area. I think they may’ve been uncovered by the most recent tide…Yes, I had a hydrographic survey done. The area I’m proposing to excavate along the floor is minimal in regards to the entire site, but I'd like to retrieve them before the next tide…I could run the survey down to you now...Yes. Thank you,” You hurry to hang up before you bend over your desk, hurriedly gathering your materials. You glance up as you feel Oberyn turn to face you fully.

“Is there something I could help you with? I’m sort of in a hurry.”

“I can see that,” Oberyn nods, “...The structure you won’t be raising, is that—”

“Yes,” Your answer is hurried and clipped. It’s not your ego that tells you that Oberyn has been keeping up with the dig—it’s how well you’ve come to know him, his fascination and love of Dorne’s history. That brings back that twisting feeling, and take in a deep breath, trying to rid yourself of it You stack the folders and files that you need and grab your bag, shifting it onto your shoulder.

“I gotta go,” You skim around the desk, “So—Sorry that you’ve wasted your time coming over here—”

“It wasn’t a waste—”

“Feel free to stay and to—to browse whatever books you like—”

Oheryn catches hold of your hand, stilling you, and you turn to look up at him, brow furrowed. He’s watching you with something that you can’t quite place—it seems too near concern, too close to something warmer, and you don’t want to read too far into that. “Take a moment for yourself,” He urges you, “Not now, but...Slow down, sweet—when you have time.” Maybe he doesn’t mean for the advice to irritate you; maybe it’s not just the urging, maybe it’s the softness of his expression—maybe you feel that the man has no right to look at you softly, with a concern that should be pointed at someone like Ellaria. You shake his grip off and reel away, slipping out of your office and into the hall. It isn’t fair—what does a man like Oberyn Martell know about time?

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#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x reader x ellaria sand #oberyn martell/reader/ellaria sand #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x you x ellaria sand #Oberyn Martell/You #Oberyn Martell/You/Ellaria Sand #Ellaria Sand x Reader #Ellaria Sand x You #Ellaria Sand/Reader #Ellaria Sand/You #Take Your Time #The Depths

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part VII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Warnings: dramatics, gaslighting, pining pining pining, drinking, attempted drugging, blacking out, vomiting, Nile and Hitch hook up, did I mention pining, one Greek word (thank you again, @cynnyc .)

It’s nearly ten PM as you climb the steps to the PKA house. The brisk October air makes you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and move toward the door faster. You probably should’ve texted your target first, checked to see if he’s even here, but you’re not about to stand outside and wait for a reply, not when you can just knock and ask a living soul.

It’s Reiner who answers, looking extremely tired with dark circles under his eyes. You idly wonder if he and the other new kids are being kept awake as another stupid fucking hazing ritual, but you don’t really have the time for small talk.

“Erwin here?”

The blond nods and steps out of the way. “His room. Might already be asleep.”

Shrugging, you walk inside, mumbling, “Just gonna have to wake his ass up then.”

Which you do, climbing up to the third story after Reiner tells you which room he’s in now. You knock on the door a couple times and almost feel bad when Erwin answers, clearly rumpled in pajama pants and bedhead.

He squints at you, and you snort. “Sleep before ten? You some kinda nerd or somethin’?”

“What do you want?” He gruffs, voice a little scratchy.

You can see part of the room behind him, looks pretty similar to the one from last year. That had been the only time you’d really gotten a close look into his space, and it had not ended well. You hope this time will be different.

“I needed to talk to you about something.”

Erwin scrubs a hand down his face then rests his head against his doorframe. “I’ll take a wild guess and say this is about Mike.”

You push your lips out in a pout and respond, “Maybe.”

He lets you into his room, catches you off guard when he asks, “Door open or closed?”

“Depends. You gonna come onto me again?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I learned my lesson last time.”

“You can shut it then.”

Taking up the chair at his desk, you watch as Erwin just crawls back under his covers and fixes cerulean eyes on you.

“Why haven’t you been talking to him?”

Something in your stomach flips, eyes growing as you splutter, “I haven’t been talking to him? He hasn’t been talking to me!”

Erwin frowns. “What? He’s been bitching to me incessantly.”

“And, I’ve been bitching to Hitch incessantly.”

Groaning into his pillow, Erwin holds out his hand, and you hear a muffled command, “Give me your phone.”

You do without hesitation, rattle off the passcode then sit and wait as Erwin scrolls through what you assume to be your settings or contacts. The thought that you should be a little scared crosses your mind—you do have some compromising photos in an unlocked folder—but judging by Erwin’s current mood, he doesn’t seem interested in anything except sleeping.

“That motherfucker,” he grunts.

“What?”

“You blocked his number.”

“What?” This time is much louder and panicked. “No, I didn’t! I swear I didn’t.”

He tosses you the device back and gestures in a ‘see for yourself’ manner. “Someone did.”

Your blood begins to boil as you stare down at your short list of blocked contacts, Mike’s name right on top.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You quickly tap to remedy the problem, hands beginning to shake. “I don’t even know how—”

“My money’s on the shitty boyfriend,” Erwin mumbles.

You want to text Mike, but you have no idea what to say. Sorry we haven’t talked in over a month. Zeke figured out my phone password and blocked your number haha. You doubt that would fly.

If you had just come to Erwin sooner, most of this could have been avoided. You don’t know if you’re more upset at Zeke or at yourself.

Zeke. Definitely Zeke. That is some wildly possessive behavior. That’s isolation. The idea makes you nauseous. This is just another instance of him showing what you believe to be his true self. Between all the fighting and grudges, you’re at your wit’s end. Just the other day, the two of you had gotten into yet another argument when you happened to get a glance at the Tinder icon in his app list.

“Why do you still have that?” You’d asked with a frown. You really hadn’t planned on it turning into an ordeal.

“Have what?”

“Tinder.”

“What are you talking about?”

Then, right in front of your eyes, he had deleted the app. You saw it, but that didn’t stop Zeke from looking at you with a straight face and telling you, “I think you’re just confused, babe.”

That’s when it turned into an ordeal. That’s when you got defensive and incredulous. That’s when he just kept telling you that you were wrong, that you were just seeing things, and after a good thirty minutes once you were nice and high strung, he actually had you halfway convinced.

Because he always sounds so sure of himself, always makes it so that his word is law. You had doubted yourself—you’re still doubting yourself.

“Jesus, I can’t believe this,” you breathe, leaning back in the rolling chair and staring up at the ceiling. You can believe it, actually, you just hadn’t expected him to sink that low. “What do I even say to Mike?”

Erwin finally pushes himself into a sitting position and stretches. Seems like he’s just resigning himself to being awake. “Whatever it is, you should probably talk it out in person.”

“Probably.”

“Might be a little difficult now, though.”

Heaving a sigh, you mutter, “Yeah, I assume he's pretty pissed at me.”

Erwin hums, but his voice comes out a little unsure when he says, “Well, that, but also…”

You're suddenly sitting straight up. “Also what?”

Making a face, the man across from you enlightens you to the fact that, “Mike is kind of seeing someone. I think.”

You blink at him, trying to process what he’s telling you. Mike is… With someone? You feel sick.

But, you shouldn’t because he’s allowed to branch out. You surely did, and you hurt him in the process.

“It, uh… It gets worse.”

Swallowing, you try to hide the lump in your throat when you rasp, “How?”

Don’t cry. Do not cry. You have no right to cry.

“I’m about ninety-nine percent positive it’s Zeke’s ex.”

Every muscle in your face suddenly relaxes, but it isn’t in a good way. Instead of frowning, your brow softens into its normal position. You release the tension in your jaw, the teeth that were just clenched falling away from each other as your lips part. Erwin moves in and out of focus as your gaze becomes blurry, hot tears gathering at your waterline, and now you don’t even try to stop them from falling.

Fucking Rhi. She had been nothing more than an annoyance before, a peppy little annoyance trying to grab your boyfriend’s attention. But, now… Now, you’re ready to fight. Parking lot brawl, throwing fists and pulling hair, and screeching—you want to destroy her.

“Oh.” You sniffle then wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “That’s good. I mean—” a quiet cough, “—that’s good for him. I’m glad.”

Erwin snorts. “No, you’re not,” his volume rises a bit. “So, don’t pretend like you are. God, why are you guys so bad at this?”

You let out a humorless laugh and shrug. “‘Cause I have shitty timing, I guess.” You bite your lip and look back to the ceiling, trying not to weep too openly, but your lungs are burning, preventing you from breathing, and your heart is bruising your ribcage, and you think your bones just might shatter inside of your chest.

There’s a rustling on the bed, and when you look back at Erwin, you find him laying down again but holding the blankets up in front of him.

“Come on.”

“W-what? Erwin, that is literally the last thing we—”

“I’m not trying to fuck,” he says, eyes heavy as he stares at you. “You need to relax, and I need to sleep, so just come on."

You consider for a while, looking from Erwin to the mattress. You’re really not that close, would barely even call him your friend, but you did come to him tonight. You had chosen to confide in him. He makes some pretty questionable decisions sometimes, but you still believe that ultimately he’s a good person.

“Fine, but put a shirt on.”

“Then, grab one. Second drawer. Make sure it’s soft.”

You roll your eyes but do as you're told, running your hands over a few t-shirts until you find one that he should be pleased enough with. He tugs it on then collapses back on the bed, and you kick your shoes off then slip out of your jacket and under the covers.

You’re facing him, trying to keep a few inches between yourself and his chest, but as you think about the position you’re in—why you’re in it, the tears start flowing freely again, and you’re holding back little whimpers, shoulders shaking at the effort. Erwin breathes in deeply then uses the arm he isn’t laying on to pull you to him, shushing you as he rubs the space between your shoulder blades with a warm hand.

“We’ll get it sorted out,” he promises, voice quiet as he starts to doze.

It’s not how you expected to end the night, but you suppose there are worse ways.

Mike learns a lot of information in a very short amount of time. Nile meets him outside of the fitness center to give him the scoop, trying to look casual as he walks, but Mike can tell he's nervous.

He starts by asking if Mike has talked to you at all recently, and no, he has not. So, Nile tells him that you broke things off with Zeke and apparently it got messy.

"Something about him being a manipulative bastard," Nile waves a hand.

"Doesn’t surprise me. Took her long enough."

You've been hanging around the Pike house again, sometimes by yourself and sometimes with Hitch—"Who's really fucking cute, by the way." Obviously Nile and Marie are in the 'off' portion of their relationship cycle. "And, you would know all this if you would just start coming around again. It's stupid to pay dues and not actually engage with the frat, dude."

"I've just been busy with school," Mike tells him. It's only a half lie. His senior courses are kind of kicking his ass, but he's also been busying himself with Rhi who is… tolerable.

"Whatever. Halloween party is in, like, a week. If you don't show up, I'm gonna be real pissed."

"I'll be there, Nile."

"Okay, then lemme prepare you for one more thing."

Mike stops walking and looks at the smaller man who inhales deeply then blows air out through his teeth.

"So, uh, she's hanging around again, right? And, you're not there, so it seems like she's sort of, uh, latched onto…" He makes a face, and Mike leans back.

"Don't fucking tell me."

Nile cringes. "Yeah. I don't think they're fucking or anything. I haven't heard them in his room like I used to hear the two of you."

"She goes into his room?" Mike has to flex his hand by his side, but the brick wall of the library they've stopped in front of is looking mighty nice. Break a few bones, bleed a little, it'll feel good.

"Yeah, but, like, they're nowhere near as close as you and her."

"How close we used to be. It's been so fucking long since we've even talked, dude. And, any time I try to catch her on campus, the dickbag is with her—"

"Well, at least you don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Yeah, now I just have to worry about her fucking my best friend. Fuck, she just—" Mike growls in his throat, contemplates turning to go back to the gym because he needs to get this energy out somehow. "She drives me fucking crazy."

"Yeah, I know, man. I just didn't want you to be surprised at the party when you see 'em all buddy-buddy."

"I'm gonna punch him," Mike states. "Just lay him out in front of everyone."

"Please don't," Nile sounds genuinely worried. "Maybe use the party as a way to, I don't know, talk to your girl? Like an adult?"

"Obviously not my girl, and I've been screwing around with Rhi anyway. Maybe it's just time we went our separate ways or whatever."

It physically hurts to even suggest, but he's trying to put on a brave face for his friend—act annoyed rather than fucking crushed, but god, he is aching. His stomach has opened up into nothing, his chest feels void of everything that was once inside, and he knows he's being dramatic, but fuck fuck fuck, first Zeke and now Erwin? What is it that Mike doesn't have? What can't he provide you with that they can? Just tell him, and he'll fucking fix it.

"Yeah, I think we both know that's not gonna happen. Plus, you do realize Rhi is probably just using you to make Zeke jealous."

"I'm not fucking stupid, Nile, of course I know that." But, Mike is really tired of his love life revolving around that asshole, like he has to wait for Zeke to call all the shots. "I'm using her as much as she's using me, so—"

"As a distraction?"

Mike lets his head loll to the side, peering down at Nile from the corner of his eyes. "What do you think?"

The other man gives him a light punch to the shoulder and once again suggests, "Talk things out. Just pull her aside at the party."

It's easier said than done. When Halloween rolls around, it's a little insane. It's too big and too loud with a flashing strobe that hurts Mike’s eyes. There are all sorts of costumes, making it hard to recognize anyone. The jungle juice is a mystery, one Mike doesn't plan on touching but that many people will. He has a feeling that more than a few party-goers are gonna end up sick, probably passing out in various locations of the house.

Mike has opted for an easy costume, the tacky tourist complete with his pink Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat, sunglasses, and a fanny pack. It's so awful, it actually made him laugh, but Rhi, clad in a spandex tiger suit, is not nearly as amused. She probably wanted him to go the sexy cop route or something equally as cringey, but Mike just doesn't have it in him tonight.

Nile is a shirtless cowboy, Hitch is a Catholic schoolgirl, Gelgar is Freddy Krueger with a pompadour, Reiner is a werewolf, the list goes on and on. Sexy, bloody nurses, superheroes, Harry Potter, and so on.

When his eyes land on you for the first time that night, Mike comes close to drooling his drink. Lola Bunny in her skimpy basketball uniform and a rabbit ear headband. Your face is painted, and you're carrying around one of those foam balls kids use to dunk into Fisher Price hoops, and he has no doubt the prop will be lost by the end of the party.

Mike thinks back to Spring Break, to you wincing at his movie choice then trying to sleep through it. You had woken up to him flipping through the photo album, then chose to finally open up to him.

So, why this costume? Why "torture" yourself like this?

And, speaking of torture, you're sticking to Erwin just like Nile said you would. The blond is in a tailored suit, his face painted like a skull. It's both classy and creepy, and Mike hates him for it. In fact, it calls for another drink.

Rhi finds him in the kitchen after making her rounds, taking up her former place on Mike's arm as he uses the counter to pop the lid off a fresh bottle. They watch the game of beer pong playing out in front of them, but Rhi doesn't seem content to just sit.

She has to stand on her tip-toes and shout into his ear, "Wanna walk around some?"

No. He really doesn't, but he can placate her, especially if it means getting laid later tonight.

They trek back to the main room, observing the debauchery taking place. People are grinding and stripping to Monster Mash. Several couples are spread out in the chairs or up against the wall getting pretty close to full on exhibitionism.

They stop to talk to "Officer" Marie for a while then move on to Nile and Hitch to whom Rhi spills everything she just heard from the busty redhead. They joke with Gelgar and his catch of the day, some of the pledges—Jean, Reiner, and Eren—who are just trying to survive, and then at last… you and Erwin.

Mike sees the way your chest rises with a deep breath, how your fingers tighten around the little basketball. Your eyes flit from Rhi to Mike, flashing when Rhi greets you.

Oh, you don't like her.

"Love the costume," she tells you. "Who are you supposed to be again?"

Mike chokes on his drink, and you suck your teeth before replying, "Lola Bunny. The Loony Toon."

"Oh, is that, like, Bugs Bunny's girlfriend?"

"Kind of?" You try.

Rhi looks to Erwin who visibly cringes when she asks, "Why aren't you dressed as Bugs then?"

Mike wants to turn around, to put as much distance between all of you as possible.

Erwin clears his throat. "Because that would be a couple's costume, and we're not…"

Mike knows his expression is skeptical, cold even, and when he settles it on you, you give him a little shake of your head that he doesn't really believe.

"Oh, alright," Rhi concedes only to chime, "'Cause I heard—"

"Wrong," Erwin cuts her off. "You heard wrong, Rhi." A hard, blue stare lands on Mike, unforgiving when he tells him, "I think it's time you two talked."

"I don't think that's really—"

"Oh, fuck," your swear gets everyone's attention, and Mike takes in the shock written all over your face then follows your line of sight to the entry way where Zeke god damn Jaeger is making his way through the crowd.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Erwin spits.

"You and Nile decided this should be an open party, dumbass," Mike reminds him with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, so we're name-calling now? Jesus Mike, grow up. You're just assuming shit!" As he rants, Erwin takes hold of one of your arms and pulls you behind him, snatching the furry headband from you so the ears don't stick out.

For a split second, Mike thinks he's trying to protect you from him, but then he nods to bring Mike's attention to the approaching figure behind him, and Mike understands.

He turns his body to face Zeke who's walking over, fragmented by the strobe, his icy eyes piercing straight through his glasses. Mike, despite his anger toward you, feels the primal urge to protect you.

"The fuck do you want, Jaeger?"

"Woah, calm down, bud. Just looking for a brat—about yea high, spreads her legs for any athlete she comes in contact with. You guys seen her?"

Mike steps toward him, but he's stopped by a hand that fists in the back of his shirt.

"Ah, there she is," Zeke smirks, and Mike looks over his shoulder to see you now in front of Erwin with your fingers clutching the pink material across his back.

"He's not worth it, Mike."

Mike thinks he is, though. He feels like he keeps getting whiplash, going back and forth between who he wants to hit at any given moment because it seems to change by the second.

He's just been so incredibly frustrated for the past few months. Lacrosse doesn't help, and the gym doesn't help, and fucking Rhi doesn't help. Mike has just been stewing, letting everything fester during the radio silence between the two of you. He's mad at so many people including himself, and all he wants to do is shove his way out of this stupid fucking party and take off his stupid fucking fanny pack and be alone in his apartment under his dumb fairy lights.

He shrugs out of your grip, figures the best thing he can do right now is get away from all of you. Zeke stumbles when Mike shoulders into him forcefully. He's not even a little surprised when Rhi doesn't follow him, choosing to vie for Zeke's attention instead.

It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Mike gets another drink in him.

He tries not to watch the way the heated conversation turns out, the way you bow up to Zeke and Erwin has to once again put himself in between you and the other blond. He tries not to smile at the fire in your eyes, that blaze he's seen so many times (usually when you're annoyed at him), and yes, there's that pain again, barely overshadowing Mike's anger.

You yell something at Zeke. He yells back. Erwin feels the need to add his own opinion, but the music is too loud for Mike to be able to make any of it out. Whatever is shouted makes Zeke huff and walk away. Rhi prances after him, and Mike resigns himself to the fact that he probably will not be fucking her after this shit show. He could always find someone else, but that takes effort (not much, but still), and then they usually get clingy afterward, and he just can't be bothered with all that right now. Mike can't be bothered with anything right now.

So he drinks.

He keeps an eye on Zeke who doesn't actually leave the party, and he drinks. He stares at you from across the room, bunny ears back in place, and he drinks. Somewhere between Boom and Beer Pong, he loses the fanny pack, looks down at some point and finds that it's just no longer there. All he had in there was a lighter and a couple condoms, so he isn't too broken up about it, but he does wonder—

Mike isn't sure what makes him look over at the counter where all the different drinks are set out, but he does, and it's just in time to see Eren hunching over the bowl of jungle juice like some shady motherfucker, and when Mike makes his way over, world spinning just a little bit, he sees the younger Jaeger brother emptying a little plastic bag of green pills into the punch.

"What the fu—" Mike has him by the collar before he can even finish his own question, tosses the kid away from the counter so that he actually falls to the floor. It causes a few people to hop out of the way, their drinks sloshing and spilling on the tile. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Eren looks up at Mike with wide, panicked eyes, like he's scared and waiting for someone to save him.

"I—I don't know what you think you saw, man—"

"I know exactly what I saw, you little creep!"

Everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of them as more people trickle in.

"What even was that? You trying to roofie the whole fucking party or something?"

"No!"

"Just one person, then? That one special girl," Mike hisses.

He walks back to the counter and grabs the large bowl of juice, carrying it over to Eren who's still on the ground. The kid covers his face just in time for Mike to empty the contents over his head, drenching him so that red drips from his hair and trickles down his arms.

"Drink up, bitch," Mike snarls before throwing the bowl so that it bounces off Eren's head.

Naturally, a bigger crowd has gathered, and Nile shoves his way through, shouting over the music, "What is happening?"

Mike leans over to yell in his ear, "Saw him pouring pills into the punch."

"Are you serious?"

Mike nods but steps away when Eren pushes himself off the wet floor and nearly throws himself at Nile.

"I didn't do it! I don't know what the fuck he's talking about!"

Nile arm-bars Mike when he tries to move toward the little twerp, lips pulling back from his teeth because it has been a shitty night. A shitty week. Shitty month. And, now his fury has shifted yet again.

"Did anyone else see it, Mike?" Nile asks.

"Probably not since everyone is fucked up—"

"Including you."

Mike looks over at his friend in genuine surprise because it's starting to sound like Nile doesn't believe him.

"Why the fuck would I lie about something like this?"

"Maybe because he's Zeke's brother," Nile suggests.

Mike is heated. He can feel the blood underneath his skin cooking his god damn insides, frying his brain so that all he can think about is throwing a punch or two (or twenty).

Jaw sliding, Mike shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath to steady himself, to stop his hands from shaking as he tries to figure out when his friends started looking at him as some unhinged freak.

"What are you doing—the fu—dude, stop!"

Opening his eyes again, Mike sees that Gelgar has inserted himself into the situation and has Eren pinned against the counter as he shoves his hands in every one of his pockets. He's growling something at the younger man, keeps shoving his face down against the linoleum any time Eren squirms, and after about a minute of people watching and gasping and making crude remarks about the position the two are in, Gelgar straightens up with a plastic bag identical to the one Mike saw Eren emptying into the jungle juice.

"It's just Adderall, I swear!"

Gelgar scoffs. "This is definitely not Adderall. Believe me, I'd know." He tosses the pills to Nile who takes a long look at them before glaring at Eren.

"Get the fuck out before I call the cops."

He should call them anyway, Mike thinks, but he understands Nile's hesitance. There's a lot going on at the party—underage drinking, party drugs in various rooms, etc. Eren wouldn't be the only one taken into custody if the police showed up.

Another voice rings out, asking the same question everyone else has, "What the hell is going on?" and Mike comes close to hurling the closest bottle at Zeke as he makes his way to his brother. "Why are you…" He gestures nebulously as his eyebrows pull together. Rhi is close behind him, and further still, you and Erwin are peeking into the kitchen.

"They think I drugged the jungle juice!" Eren looks at Zeke with puppy eyes that probably worked when he was a kid, might still work judging by the way the blond whirls around to face Mike and Nile.

"Have any proof, or are you just trying to—"

"Pipe down, Jaeger," Nile cuts him off, holding up the bag and explaining, "Mike saw him dropping these in the punch."

Zeke is silent for a few solid seconds before rounding on his brother again and grabbing him by the shirt right where Mike had previously held him, and everyone watches in rapt attention as he steers Eren through the crowd, shouting at him the entire time.

Having both of them leave is a relief, but Mike is a little disappointed that he didn't get to fight either of them. It would have been nice to feel a nose break under his fist, but he supposed it's better this way.

"Hey, thanks for catching that, dude," Nile says, slapping Mike's back.

It doesn't make him feel good. If anything, it pisses him off. Mike would understand if his friend had been skeptical of one of the pledges or second years making the accusation he had, but Nile is one of his best friends. They were inducted at the same time, were hazed side by side. Mike never would have thought Nile had such a low opinion of him, that he’d believe Mike’s little broken heart would cloud his judgement to the point of slandering someone without cause.

"Whatever," he shrugs before grabbing another drink.

He should just go back home. He isn't having a good time. He's angry at just about everyone he looks at. When Rhi decides he's worth her time again, Mike actually tells her to fuck off. He's lost the accessories to his costume, and he's about to lose his mind.

It's getting late. Mike isn't sure how late because as the night progresses, he gets steadily inebriated. He tries to avoid anyone and everyone in his fraternity, hanging out with people he knows from lacrosse or his classes instead. They play a few drinking games, take body shots off some sorority girls (or maybe it's the same one, he can't tell anymore). The music becomes bearable, and the strobe light stops hurting his head, and eventually, Mike just… forgets.

He forgets about Nile's lack of faith. He forgets about the fuckhead Jaeger brothers. He forgets about you and Erwin walking around and laughing together oh, ha ha we're so close now. He is finally spared from all of his negative thoughts.

Mostly because somewhere between shot number seven and beer number who knows what, Mike pukes into a plant (maybe?) and blacks out.

"God dammit. Erwin," you tug on his jacket sleeve and point to the corner that is home to a fake ficus that Mike is currently throwing up in.

Erwin groans, "Oh, Jesus Christ," and starts making his way over with you hot on his heels.

A few people are making faces as they glance at Mike, moving away as he coughs, straightens, then bends over again.

"Mike, come on, buddy," Erwin pats his back, waiting for Mike to pause in his retching so that he can duck under his arm and support him. "Gotta get you to a bathroom."

"No bath," Mike snorts. "No green there, no…"

You take a place on his other side, not that you can help much in getting him down the hall and in one of the downstairs restrooms, but you at least support his other arm and steer him in the right direction.

"Why is he talking about green?" Erwin grumbles as you both lower Mike to the tiled floor in front of the toilet where he promptly pukes again.

"The leaves maybe? I don't know, dude. Just…" You cringe as you notice the way Mike's shaggy hair hangs down into the toilet bowl, subject to all kinds of splash back. "Do you have a hair tie on you?"

"Literally why in the fuck would I have a hair tie on me?" Erwin asks incredulously, and you laugh because a couple weeks ago, he never would have used that word in this context since it's wrong, but the more you spend time with him, the more he picks up on your vernacular, and that really doesn't matter right now because—

"Water," Mike croaks, voice echoing off the ceramic.

"I don't think you'll be able to drink any right this second, man," Erwin tells him, squatting beside him.

Mike shakes his head. "Wanna feel—feel water. Cold."

"He sounds like a fucking caveman," you snicker.

You're really just trying to stay calm, masking the sick feeling in your stomach with amusement, but you've been watching Mike all night as he downed beer after beer, mixing various liquors as he took shots and licked salt off some chick's stomach. You figured he would get sick, but there wasn't really much you could do about it. He had made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in speaking to you. Still, you had purposely remained mostly sober just in case something like this happened (also because you make bad decisions when you get fucked up at frat parties).

"Yeah, he definitely won't remember any of this."

"Waterrr," Mike tries again, and you look at the way his arm is dangling over the side of the tub, the faucet on the opposite side, and glance at Erwin at a loss.

He shrugs, eyes darting around until he sees the plastic cup upside down on the shower rack. He grabs it, turns the water on and fills the cup, then dumps it over Mike's hand.

Mike groans, slowly wriggles his fingers under the stream, and drawls, "Thaaaank."

You shake your head and motion for the cup, talk loud enough to be heard over the faucet, "I can handle this. You go back outside."

"What? No."

"There's no reason both of us have to be in here. He's just gonna puke his guts out for a few hours and then pass out."

Erwin doesn't seem sold on the idea.

"Come on. You've gotta go back. You're vice president or whatever."

"So?"

"Erwin."

He stares at you for a while then deflates. "Fine. Do you have your phone on you?"

"Always." You gesture to the elastic waistband of your shorts, phone pressed to your hip as it hangs on the inside of the material.

"Text me if you need help, alright?"

"You got it, boss."

He leaves just in time for Mike to violently retch into the toilet, one hand clutching the bowl as his spine curves. You fill the cup back up, pour it over his hand once again, and repeat the action over… and over… and over.

His face and hair are gonna be a mess, probably his shirt too which is actually a blessing because you'll finally have a legitimate reason to burn it. Pepto Bismol pink and sketched palm trees stare at you as you sit on the edge of the tub, and all you can think of is the first time you saw Mike wearing the terrible shirt, how that had ended up, how you left with it the following morning.

How had the two of you gone from that to this? Sure, you weren't super fond of him at the beginning of it all, but he grew on you. A lot. He's your best fucking friend. Through the last couple months, through this weird fight you're having, he is your best friend. It's why you're here right now taking care of his drunk ass.

It'll pass. This phase will pass, and you'll make up, and you'll get your chance to be honest with him, to tell him how you feel about him. It may have taken you a little too long to arrive at your destination, so to speak, but better late than never. Soon, you'll both be able to look back on this and laugh.

People knock on the door here and there, and you scream at them to go away, eventually getting tired of it and just clicking the lock into place.

Any time you stop pouring water over his hand, Mike whines and attempts to say something, choppy words that don't make a ton of sense. You wonder if you need to call an ambulance, look for the signs of alcohol poisoning, but he doesn't feel cold, his breathing is even between bouts of vomiting, and his arms aren't curling in that tell-tale way.

More than likely, he just made himself sick. He knows better, too. He's been partying for a long enough time to be well aware of the mixing rules. Beer before liquor and all that shit. He may have just not cared tonight, though. From what Erwin has told you, Mike has just been in a generally bad mood for a while now (and Erwin has not tried to be subtle about why). He's barely around the Pike house anymore, he keeps getting called for personal fouls in lacrosse, and he's sleeping with Rhi which is nobody's business but is also strange considering her history—some kind of mutualistic symbiotic relationship that nobody is a real fan of.

Not my circus, not my monkeys, you think to yourself, emptying another cup from your place on the floor now. The ceramic was starting to hurt your ass, and you know your arm will probably be a little sore tomorrow, or later today since it's nearing three.

Fatigue is beginning to set in, and you know Mike is exhausted because he keeps dozing off on the toilet seat so that you have to nudge him back awake. Until he can speak in mostly coherent sentences, he's not allowed to sleep.

Sitting in the bathroom gives you ample amount of time to think. You go over some mental flashcards for a while, notes you took with the help of Mike's magic textbook. Then you think about going to your mom's for Thanksgiving and how much you aren't looking forward to it. Then you think about Zeke showing up only to have to escort his shady brother from the house. God, you had not been happy to see him. You'd been a little afraid, if you're being honest.

After figuring out that he had, in fact, blocked Mike's number on your phone, you had stomped into his apartment and initiated a screaming match. You got loud, he got louder, called you a stupid bitch and punched a hole in the drywall. You had decided that was a pretty good time to leave, both the apartment and the relationship. He's been lurking on campus around your most frequented spots—the science building, the library, but you've been doing a good job of camouflaging yourself in groups of other students. Even if he can see you, he can't do much about it.

You've thought about reporting him to campus police, but you know nothing will come of it. The golden boy can do no wrong. It's why you've been spending so much time at the PKA house again. You know most of them have your back, and you are absolutely not above asking any of them to walk somewhere with you to fend off your angry ex.

You can't wrap your head around what his fucking deal is. Surely he didn't treat Rhi like this after they split. There's no way she would still be so infatuated with him if he had. Is it just because you're the one who dumped him? He had to have seen it coming once you started putting the pieces together, the way he constantly tried to make you feel guilty, isolating you from your friends, invading the privacy of your phone to not only block Mike but also to turn your fucking location on so he could track you (you had found that out after that first trip back to the frat house to talk with Erwin. It had not been pretty).

It's hard to believe you put up with it for as long as you did. It was only five months, but that's still five months too long.

Mike is quiet for several minutes, and you sigh when you see that his eyes are closed once again. He makes a noise of displeasure when you use your foot to gently shake him, grumbling, "Sto-o-op."

"Nope. Gotta stay awake, Miche. Can't have you fallin' into a coma or something'."

"Nooo. No Miche."

"Yes, Miche," you laugh.

He scrunches his face up, shakes his head, but the motion seems to make him sick again.

When he finishes gagging into the toilet, he lets out a deep, "Gu-uuh," then sniffs. "No Miche. Jus' she—she—...Jus' her."

You can figure out the rest, but you can't decide if you want to smile or cry. Only you can call him that. Well, you and his mom. You miss her. And his dad. And Scout. You hope to see them again.

"Okay. Just Mike then."

He hums in confirmation then shakes his hand in the tub so that you'll douse it once again.

"You're a needy drunk, you know that?"

Mike doesn't respond to that, just takes a few deep breaths as his eyes close yet again.

"Sleep now," he mumbles.

"No, no sleep now."

"Sleep now."

"Oh my fucking god."

His mouth drops open a little, and the first thing you think to do is splash him in the face with the cup of water.

He spits and splutters but doesn't shift much, still wrapped around the toilet. You try not to look inside when you stand and reach to flush what's already gathered, trying to shield some of Mike's face from any flying droplets. Then you wash your hands and sit back down. You figure you'll be here for at least another couple of hours. The sun will be coming up soon. Thank god it's a Saturday.

Both Erwin and Nile knock on the door for an update, and you yell that you're okay. Mike isn't throwing up as often, and when he does, nothing is coming up anymore. He's gonna be in a world of pain when he returns to his normal self.

So fucking stupid. He's so fucking stupid.

He mutters nonsense on and off. Sometimes you can translate what he's trying to say, but other times not so much.

"President… dumb boyyy."

"Hy-poc-risy an' jealous… Hypocrite… I…"

"Hand… wanna hold…" but when you grab it, he just gurgles, "Waterrr."

There's really no pleasing him.

"Why-y-y… dick… Erwin."

"Volcano books… n' space jam… come an' sam… an'... to the jam."

You laugh too loudly, and Mike cringes at the noise, but the corner of his mouth still lifts. You don't think he knows what he's doing or saying yet—isn't downloading any new memories—it doesn't matter because you will remember this for the both of you.

"You're fucking ridiculous."

Mike pushes himself back from the toilet to sit against the wall, hissing and clumsily rubbing his chest. His shirt is wet and disgusting, and he must know on some level because he says, "Shower," and starts pulling himself over the tub.

"Jesus Christ, Mike."

He's too tall, dangling an arm and a leg over the side and sinking lower.

"Water, pleeeease."

He apparently isn't aware of the faucet that is still on. Whoever has to pay these bills… You feel sorry for them.

"No, dude. I am not letting you drown."

Mike fucking giggles, "Lifeguard," then tries to take his shirt off. He doesn't have the motor skills to handle buttons and looks to be confused by them anyway, so his next solution is to just rip the material down the middle.

"Yeah, okay, I guess that works."

The showerhead is turned on, and you sit on the edge of the tub again, shivering when the cool spray blows toward you while keeping an eye on Mike. Reaching over, you turn the temperature up a little, knowing that the alcohol has dropped his body temperature some. You're almost tempted to slide under the water with him, but there's no room, and you're not about to just make yourself comfortable on top of him.

So, you just sit and stare and think about how tired you are. Physically and mentally and spiritually tired. You just need some time to not exist—just a few days. It feels like this semester has been nothing but drama so far, and it is exhausting. Maybe that's why Mike did this to himself. Maybe he just needed to not exist.

He starts to sit up a little in the tub, but his hand falters and sends him sliding back down. "Fuck."

Not caring about getting wet at this point, you simply stand up between his spread legs, the shower drenching you immediately, and grab his hands to tug him upright.

"ευχαριστώ."

"Come again?"

"Means thanks," he mumbles, slumping forward.

You think of his family again, how he and his mother had just fallen into Greek as soon as you'd stepped into the house, leaving you surprised and impressed and warm in several different ways.

Squatting, you tilt your head to catch his half-lidded gaze.

"You back with me yet?" It's been nearly four hours—Fuck, why is there music playing still—but he might need more time.

"Dunno."

"Can you tell who I am?"

Mike does his best to roll his eyes. "'m drunk, not a amnes—amnesic—"

"Amnesiac," you supply with a smirk. Smartass.

"That," he nods, pointing at you with a finger gun.

He can actually understand you now, so that's good, don't have to worry about him dying anymore since he's making progress.

Opening his mouth, Mike catches some water in it, swishes and spits. You expect him to tell you that you can leave. He can take care of himself, doesn't want to see you, all manner of hurtful things he has every reason to feel.

Instead, he blinks at you, extends his arms, and makes grabby hands.

"Can I help you?"

He doesn't say anything, just keeps reaching for you. He could grab you without issue. His fingers are already brushing your knees, but he either doesn't notice or wants to wait for you.

"Mike, I can't get any closer," you laugh.

Switching tactics, he pats his chest.

"Oh, no. I am but about to put myself in the line of vom just 'cause you wanna cuddle or some shit."

Truthfully, you would also like to cuddle, to feel Mike's body against yours again, trace your fingers over his skin and listen to his heartbeat, but…

Not like this.

"Please. No more vom. Promise."

"I don't think you're in a state to make promises like that."

He says your name followed by one more, "Please," and you give in, letting out a long breath and grunting as you find a way to lay between his legs with your head on the lower part of his sternum. You're curled a little awkwardly, one foot up against the ceramic while the other is curled beneath you. It is not by any means a comfortable position, but it's what Mike wants.

A few months ago, laying like this would inevitably lead to other things. Talking and joking would lead to giggling, maybe some well aimed prods to your ribs. You would bite in retaliation, his shoulder or, if the angle was right, his nipple, until he pulled you up further to sit in his lap, hot mouth finding yours, and so on and so forth.

This is different on every possible level. Neither of you are speaking. Your hands are unmoving on each other's bodies. There's no heat save for the water that's pouring down on both of you, plastering your silky costume to your skin.

Still, it's enough to lull you into a drowsy state, the ache in your eyes urging you to close them, but as soon as you do, Mike speaks.

"'m mad at you."

Your stomach drops. His words don't come as a surprise, but they still sting.

"I know," you sigh. "I'm mad at me too."

Your head moves with his chest, a gentle up and down that could—and has—put you to sleep.

"Still love you."

You bite your lip, fingers lightly digging into Mike's warm skin as you remind yourself that he's drunk, and he hates you, and he probably won't remember any of this when he wakes up anyway. There's no reason to get emotional over it. No reason.

"I love you too, Miche."

Silence closes in around you once more. You drift in and out for about half an hour until a loud knock jolts you awake.

You scramble off of Mike and hop to the door, leaving puddles and drops behind you. Both Nile and Erwin look panicked in the hallway, the shorter man nearly shouting, "Is he fucking dead in there?"

"Not deeeead," Mike calls from the tub.

Erwin peers over your shoulder at him, then at you, then takes on a disappointed expression. "You didn't. Come on, he's so drunk."

"What do you—" You frown as you piece together his implication, then squawk and shove Erwin with two wet hands. "I didn't fuck him, you perv! What is wrong with you?"

He chuckles and bats away your hands. "I never know with you two! You can't blame me!"

"You're disgusting."

"Look who's talking. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" Erwin raises his eyebrows. "Less bunny and more… I don't know, ghoul?"

God, you had completely forgotten about the face paint.

"Shut up, yours isn't much better." His black and white paint is smeared in several places like someone ran their fingers through it. The collar of his shirt is stained, and his hair is tousled. You can't tell if it's the result of getting frisky or falling asleep.

"Stop flirting in front of meeee," Mike whines loudly, sitting up and pushing the shower knob a little too hard to shut the water off.

"We're not—" You and Erwin start at the same time.

Nile interrupts with a drawn out, unconvinced little note and informs both of you, "You guys get a little flirty sometimes. Sorry to break it to you."

You frown at the blond and he frowns back, then you both frown at Nile who shrugs. "I'm just saying. There's a reason people are thinking things."

It's not important, and you'd rather not dwell on it because you know the truth, and Erwin knows the truth, and Mike will if he'll just fucking listen, but he's fucked up right now, so that's a problem for another day.

"Whatever, we'll work on it, but for now…" You watch as Mike tries and fails to pull himself out of the tub.

"He looks like the girl from The Ring," Erwin snorts.

"Yeah, if she was giant. And, a guy," you add.

Wet hair is hanging over Mike's eyes, still sopping wet and dripping. He's all awkward angles as he hoists himself up, kicking a leg over and swearing.

"We should probably help him," Nile says, fighting his own smile.

"Probably."

Between the three of you, you manage to transport Mike from the bathroom to Erwin's room on the third fucking floor which is no easy feat. Nile waits for his friend to be dumped onto the mattress, then announces that Hitch is waiting for him to come back to bed. You don't know how long that will last, but your friend falling into the same frat boy trap you did is mildly hilarious.

It leaves you and Erwin to make Mike comfortable. You wrap his head in a towel you found poking out of the hamper, murmur, "Hope this doesn't have anything gross on it," to which Erwin responds with an unamused look.

You peel the ruined, tacky shirt from Mike’s shoulders and toss it into a corner but you let Erwin take care of the rest. You've seen everything Mike has to offer, but that doesn't stop you from feeling weird about seeing his dick when he can't really stop you. So, like Mike did last year when he spilled water on your shirt, you turn your back to allow him some privacy.

There's some rustling and grunting, but when Erwin tells you it's safe, you look to find Mike in a pair of gym shorts, hair still wrapped, looking more disgruntled than you've ever seen him.

"'m still wet."

"You sure are, big guy," Erwin agrees, slowly guiding him to lay down on his side and explaining, "You need to sleep like this, alright? Otherwise you might choke and die."

"Erwin!" You throw your hands up in the air. "Why would you even—?"

"Know how it works, dumb… butt."

"Oh, dumb butt. That's a good one," Erwin grins. "Very creative."

"Don't panotrize me!"

You have to cover your mouth to keep from cackling, and Erwin shakes his head, corrects, "Patronize, Mike. Patronize."

"That's what I said!"

It takes a while to get him relaxed again. Apparently, Mike's favorite thing to do while drunk is run his mouth to Erwin, so while he's busy dealing with that, you raid Erwin's closet for a shirt and then his dresser for boxers. Once you are mostly dry, you snatch the towel from Mike's hair to wipe your face and toss it away, then step up onto the bed near the pillows, urging Mike to shift so that you can sit against the headboard.

He immediately rests his stubbled cheek on one of your thighs, then wraps both arms around the other, his fingers melting into the fat just below your ass as he grunts, "Mine."

"All yours, buddy," Erwin assures with a grin before glancing at you. "I'm gonna pass out in the chair—" he gestures to the one in the corner of the room, "—if you need me for anything, just wake me up, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks." Then, "Hey, Erwin?" He hums in response. "Don't tell him about tonight, like, me staying with him."

"Why?"

"I don't want him to stress out about what he may have said or done. 'Cause I know he will."

"Whatever you say," Erwin shrugs, collapsing in the chair without even changing or washing his face. All three of you are gonna look like characters from a horror movie whenever you wake up, and the thought makes you smirk as you card your fingers through Mike's damp hair.

It's getting longer. He could probably put it up if he wanted to. He's been letting his beard grow a little too. You aren't sure if it's laziness or just trying a slightly different look, but whatever the case, it's hot.

He keeps your leg clutched tightly to him like some kind of stuffed animal until he drifts off to sleep. It's nearing five, and you know you probably won't get any quality rest while you're here, so you figure you'll just doze for a while until you can safely extract yourself from Mike's grip. He probably won't appreciate waking up like this anyway. No matter what he's said to you and Erwin—declarations and staked claims—it'll all be worthless in just a few hours.

A symphony of snores plays through the room, Erwin splayed out in his chair like he's passed out in a cheap Vegas hotel while Mike drools on your thigh, and if it was anyone else, you'd be disgusted and shove him away, but since it’s Mike, it’s weirdly endearing. He can slobber on you all he wants, it won’t bother you in the slightest.

Eventually, the sun shining through the window becomes too bright for you to even fall into a light sleep, so just as you planned, you gently untangle yourself from Mike, pausing when he grunts and frowns, but when he doesn’t stir any more than that, you manage to slip out of the bed.

Grabbing your phone and costume, still a little wet and cold because of it, you leave as quietly as you can. Your shoes are still in the downstairs bathroom along with Mike’s shirt, and you have a legitimate mental debate over whether you really should just toss it, but as much as you hate it, you decide against it.

You have to step over several bodies to get to the front door, more than usual which is concerning since the punch Eren spiked was thrown out (or really, thrown all over him), but you’re able to make it out without tripping.

The drive to your dorm feels too long, sun beaming right into your itchy eyes the entire way. You nearly cry in relief when you finally fall onto your mattress, already well aware that most, if not all, of your day will be spent under the covers. You’re more than fine with it, allowing yourself to just not exist for several hours exactly how you wanted to.

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #tw manipulation #tw vomit

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nectarous · 3 years

Text

━━ shigaraki x f!reader.

[tags: wound play, gore, blood, quirk use.]

[wc: 1.3K]

⇦ love thy neighbor masterlist.

tomura has taken to watching you through the cracked peephole, unconsciously scratching at the raised scratches in the pine door and the thin skin of his neck. there’s a raging hush, an annoying itch that’s simultaneously caused and soothed by you.

you only live here because of how cheap it is. this apartment is worse than a shithole, and if he wasn’t a criminal he wouldn’t step a hundred feet of the property. stains and scratches, no actual maintenance, and a stench that pervades the entire place. but it’s cheap, the landlord doesn’t ask questions, and it’s the only place a lowly student like you could afford to live by themselves. you definitely work as a nurse or a medical student of some sort, shuffling inside after midnight in stained scrubs and a hunch in your back, looking like you’re one push away from collapsing onto the scuffed up floor.

your quirk’s interesting to him; the complete opposite of his. while he destroys, yours is a remedy. he's watched the neighbors come knocking at your door for months, asking you to heal anything from scrapes to burns. he watches in aroused revulsion at the flaxen glow of your fingers as you brush them over patients.

he needs you to pay attention to him. he wants you to look at him the same way you look at the kids shyly asking you to remedy bruises from tripping at the playground, or the tired smile you give to the hooker next door when you help lessen the ache of her cunt after a busy night. he wants to feel the glow of your fingers, fixing him up.

plain, but annoyingly eye-catching. tomura found the swollen, blackened circles under your eyes pretty; the way you didn’t care about blood stuck underneath your nails and your naivety at helping just about anyone.

if he doesn’t approach you right now he’s probably going to scrape through his skin.

there had to have been red flags, silent warnings in the way he silently pushed his way past you inside your lowlight studio, the way his eyes danced over the mail thrown on the coffee table while he stuck out his forearm, a thin red line oozing from wrist to elbow. silent request for help.

the leathery, worn-out hand that normally protectively cupped his face is odd and gruesome, like a leash holding back. somehow, the decaying smell’s worse than the hallway. he plops down onto your ratty couch without permission, toeing off his red sneakers onto the ground before he’s sitting cross-legged. almost like a child.

neither of you talks. he’s staring at the deep-set lines of stress under your eyes, you’re focusing on drawing enough vitality left in you to heal the superficial cut. the delicate touch you have on his forearm prickles into his bones, burns just a bit. he watches the way your fingers brush away the congealing blood from his arm like you’re stitching the skin back together.

your quirk feels good.

it only takes you a couple of minutes to heal him to the best of your ability, but it only took him a few seconds to decide he wants to feel more.

you try to usher him out, the annoyance that he’s forced his way into your apartment settling in. but he’s grabbing you, pulling you down so your knees clumsily knock into the side of his thigh, and he’s looking at you with such excitement, a childish elation stained with something sinister that makes you want to inch away.

something is telling you that you wouldn’t like the outcome if you tried that, though.

“can you do anything bigger than cuts?”

he’s fidgeting, digging into the pocket of his jacket before pulling out a folding hunter. a rusty, stained pocket knife with drying flecks of pulpy blood, a chipped handle, and no obvious maintenance, that’s being forced into your hand, and before you can even shout out in panic he’s tucking his shirt up under his chin, grabbing your hands around the handle.

he’s making you stab him.

the dread looks even prettier on you, makes a burn in him light up, especially paired with how you’re whimpering in confused fright.

the trembling of your hands makes the knife cut deeper, wider, until the bolster presses flush against his stomach. until his blood spilling cataracts over the scabbed-over lesions in his torso and the webs of your skin and it stains the air in a coppery invasion.

he’s breathing heavy, almost like he’s turned on by a six-inch blade buried in the sickly flesh—holds you like this for a while, the incomplete grip on you trapping you close to him.

you don’t want to be here anymore. you can feel yourself floating away, you’ve never felt this much blood, you’ve never had someone who wanted to be hurt, it's scary. the ringing of your ears, the vacant look in your eyes. only the shell of you is present.

it’s okay. he’s almost giggling, lips cracking and splitting apart as they pull back into a juvenile grin, blood soaking down his chin and down his stomach. it's time to heal him now.

the knife isn’t in him anymore. your shaking hands are dropped unceremoniously into his lap while he tosses it on the ground and tries to wipe the blood onto the weaved gray of your couch. if you were in the right state of mind, you probably would make a run for it, but you’re frozen. there’s no fight or flight in you.

he’s shoving your hand back underneath his sticky shirt. he's not fully grabbing onto you, you notice vaguely, a deliberate pinky resting inches above your skin. the oddly delicate way he’s holding you would have made you laugh under any other circumstance.

digits bump into the sides of the fleshy gaping hole before fingertips sink into the wound, the squelching of bubbling blood louder than your heavy breath of fear, his hisses of rapturous agony sanguinating over you in redhot waves of disgusted curiosity. the sight’s gruesome, bright crazed eyes rolling into the back of his head, neck straining with every grunt, clawing at your skin and the ruined couch cushion.

he’s hemorrhaging out, but he’s obviously enjoying it, and it’s *beautiful* as much as you don’t want to admit.

your quirk starts up uncontrollably, reacts to his pain, you can see the faint yellow glow from your fingertips even buried into the bloody lesion before it starts to pull energy from you. the ripped muscle fuses together around your knuckle deep fingers; you can feel each fiber being melded together again.

healing around your fingers hurts more than it did being stabbed, the foreign digits slowly being pushed out of the injury, the treatment stinging like salt and acid.

you’re horrified to see the erection straining against his pants, eyes tracking the sliver of skin peeking through his clothes ruddy red. his eyes are rolling back in such serenity, it’s blanking your head out, makes you throb hot.

“hey, does your quirk work on you?” it’s not a question, it’s more of an assertion, and before you can formulate an answer in your head, he drops the final finger around your wrist.

bile and screams crawl up your throat as the maudlin scent of decay clog up your nose. it stings at your nerves almost as much as his quirk breaks you down, the scent of death and wreckage burning your skin.

you can’t see your fingers dissolving, mixing with the sticky blood underneath his shirt but the pain is still just as sharp; you can feel the bones disintegrating and tissue being ripped apart, the putrefying agony crawling up up up, eating away at skin and flesh.

the whole building echoes with the wails of sorrowed, agonized fear.

good. he wants you to sing.

#shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki #yandere bnha #tag:[gore]#tag:[noncon]#tag:[blood]#thank u grammarly for proofreading #bc i did not

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minniepetals · 4 years

Text

love poem

— summary: for years you’ve suffered for the longest time and for years they’ve hurt without understanding the true meaning behind it all. soulmates connected through the hearts, soulmates connected through the slightest touches, and when they finally meet their last soulmate, the seven gods vowed to themselves that they will love and protect you for the rest of their immortal lives

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, angst, soulmates!au, poly!au, gods!au, god of knowledge!namjoon, god of stars!seokjin, god of music!yoongi, god of sun!hoseok, god of spring!jimin, god of ocean!taehyung, god of hearth!jungkook

— word count: 29.0K

— warnings: mentions of death, mentions of war, minor character deaths

— prompt: "It won't be easy you know...trying to love me"

— a/n: i hope you guys haven’t forgotten the dear; sweet bubbies project. sorry i’ve been so slow on these requests but here is the second installment! for you bubs @hope122598

Soft crispy crunches follow your footsteps as you walk among the snowy path, the wind seeming more restless than ever this morning. Little bits of snowflakes descend from the sky, falling and falling in an endless cycle for the snowy mountains will never come to understand what Spring looks like.

For days upon days and years upon years, you have always prayed to see what it will be like to live with warmth, in a home of hearth, in a shelter that can provide comfort and heat to your body and mind. But you know that as you walk up the path of the mountain, stairway long ruined since over many years ago, with the hood of your cloak constantly hoping to leave your head and the wind howling all around, wishing alone will only get you so far.

The morning sun brings no heat for you, icy particles kissing your cheeks from time to time and leaving you bright red from how cold it is.

But you're used to this.

It's okay.

Fog escapes your lips as you huff to catch your breath once you make it up, basket of firewood covered with a blanket safely secured in one hand, and you are met with a wooden archway that is so close to toppling over. But it remains firm as ever, as if its fragile looks is only just a façade and that it should look this way.

You walk under it, paying no mind with no fear of it collapsing, and follow the path that flows into your village. White blankets cover the wooden roofs of the abandoned homes and you hear something falling off and hitting the ground with a thud.

Another wooden platform destroyed.

Everything is silent saved for the song of the wind and the crunches of the snow under your footsteps. But you hear the distant sound of the children's voices echoing in your memories. They laugh and shout at one another, giggling about as they jump into piles of snow or slide down a hill on a wooden sled that their fathers have made them. You hear the distant chiding of their mothers who is angry they aren't bundled up for warmth, missing a hat, missing a glove or scarf. You hear the aunties and uncles speaking to one another in cheery voices as you pass along each house, empty and left alone.

They ask each other upon how their days are, whether they have wood to spare, whether their homes are warm enough for their families, whether they have any heated water to share. The young adults complain about the howling wind, grunting and grumbling as they open their doors only to quickly shut it as they tighten the strings around their hood to keep it firm upon their heads. They huff as they stuff their hands into their pockets, frowning and pouting with baskets hanging upon their arms because they had been asked to gather woods from down the mountain.

You don't see the elderlies in your memories but you know they're here, in their homes, tucked in safe and warm and telling old tales of stories upon stories whether real or folktales. The little ones will gather at their feet near the fireplace, excited and anxious about what stories they will hear today.

You see the smoke from chimneys, you see the homes in good shape, and as you stand in the middle of the village's center where festivals, celebrations, and gatherings are often met at, you turn around to take a good look at the village that used to be so lively and filled of energy.

Now gone.

Replaced with broken houses, torn roofs, shattered windows, doors left ajar and broken. The shadows of the villagers, the ghost of the children who runs around in front of you, shouting at one another, the adults laughing and conversing, the teens rebelling and pranking, and the elderlies telling stories where the big bonfire should be...dissolves away from your memories.

Left only with the distant sounds of their laughter. Echoing and echoing in your ears.

As if it is still there, their precious lives, only for you to be reminded all over again that no, you are alone. No one else survived the horrid attack that came unexpected and terrifying.

The memories are still so clear in your head, the shouting, the screams and cries for mercy, the parents begging for the lives of their children to be spared, the howling dogs that would bark nonstop, and the blood that spilled so much that fateful day. Your mother kept you safe in your own home, ran out there pretending she has no daughter while you remained under the basement, muffling your cries as you watched from the window of the slaughtering of your tribe.

You heard loud footsteps then, the crashing and trashing of things, and had shattered a window in order to pick up its shard to stab yourself near your stomach, at a place you know will not bleed out too much and will not kill you.

You laid on the floor, hiding the shard away when the man kicked the door out of its hinges with a wild dog running in. He found you there, laid as if someone had already came to stab you to your death, with you only in your harsh breathing to pretend as if you have indeed just died. But the dog came over to you, sniffing, and you knew that he knew that you were still alive. That you were only pretending.

The quickening of your rapid heartbeat tells him so and it only grows worse so he barks at the owner and you prayed so hard that the man could not understand him.

And he didn't, so he left you, believing someone had already taken care of you and demanded for the dog to follow him out. You held your breath even as they both left the scene.

And even then you remained where you were, knowing there was no other place to run to and just letting fate decide what to do with you. If someone else barges in and finds that you have only faked your death then you would accept his sword at your neck, your heart, wherever he desires.

So here you stand in the middle of a village, a tribe that was once so alive and filled of beautiful people and the warmth of a lovely fire.

Now all locked in the memories of the wind. Gone for you to never see again.

The God of Spring stands a few feet away from the wisteria that lays in the center of the celestial palace, watching as its colors of lilac, blush, and the skies, are only growing a bit weaker as the years pass by and by. It hasn't been in its full bloom and glow since the moment Jimin had grown it hundreds of years ago. Throughout the many years upon finding his fated ones, he's seen the tree grow taller and bigger, so very close to reaching its maximum goal if only he could find one more thing it needs.

It's gotten so magnificent one would think this is its full bloom but the God of Spring knows that there is something missing.

Many leaves have fallen, scattering about like little petals all around the tree but the wisteria remains tall and firm. Yet time is running out and he knows that it will only last a few more years before the bloom will disperse and he himself will weaken.

"Jimin." The Spring God turns at the gentle call of his name and finds the God of Ocean by his side. He watches the tree with awe and wonder, a sight he has gotten used to throughout the years of his immortality. Although Taehyung finds the tree that represent their love so very beautiful, he also understands that something is not quite right. Not yet at least. "What is on your mind, my love?"

He can easily read the God's mind without needing to voice out the question but he feels the need to listen to his soulmate's sweet voice that always calms his waters down.

Jimin shifts slightly, brows creased as he catches a small petal falling from the vines and fluttering down to the marble floor, meeting its fate with the other petals that have already fallen. A breeze passes by from the opening circle that gives sunlight and rain for the tree to grow and he breathes in the fresh air, closing his eyes for a moment. "We must hurry, Taehyung," he tells his lover.

When Jimin takes his hand into his hold, Taehyung understands exactly what his soulmate is feeling at the touch. Jimin has allowed him to read his mind with the touch alone and he knows, he knows that Jimin is beginning to feel restless. The wisteria is only now beginning to wither in a slow passing of time but it will fall to its roots if nothing is done about it.

Taehyung understands that Jimin is afraid, worried, because he knows that there is still a missing piece of their puzzle that has yet to be discovered; their missing soulmate. A soulmate whom they have no idea of, a soulmate they know they must not have met yet because otherwise the wisteria wouldn't look so weak in Jimin's eyes. They must not be an immortal, a god or a goddess, they must not live up here where they are in the realm of the Gods.

But they have searched and searched and searched for years yet no village, town, nor kingdom holds the answer they are seeking for.

"Why must they be so hidden?" The Spring God questions with a deep sigh that makes him so tired. "It was so easy finding you all."

"Fate is not always the easiest," his soulmate reminds him and he nods, sighing again as he turns from the wisteria. "Seokjin has not found a solution yet," Taehyung answers his question before it is spoken aloud while they walk away from the celestial tree. "Jungkook has been feeling very cold recently."

"It must relate to Jungkook." The God of Hearth should not be shivering and feeling the cold get to him in such strong waves. He is meant to be a fireplace, warming up all that is around him, giving fire to the mortals down below.

"But we have searched the land of the mortals," Taehyung says, knowing how long both Seokjin and Namjoon, the Stars and Knowledge Gods, have worked to try and piece everything together.

"Perhaps we are overlooking something."

"And what do you suppose that is?"

Jimin doesn't know. All he understands is that they must find their last soulmate and they must find them soon. So he continues walking on past the door that leads out the center of the palace, brows still creased. "We must return to Earth again, Taehyung. They have to be there."

"How are you sure?"

He shakes his head, not truly understand the logic behind his thoughts. "I just have this feeling." Jimin stops walking and turns to look at the Ocean God with a conflicted gaze resting in his eyes. He takes his lover's hands and press them to his heart to let him feel his heartbeat. "Will you trust me, my love?"

Taehyung smiles. "With all that I have."

It is freezing when you walk into a home that had once been so lovely. Everything is dark now, windows no long a thing because they had all been shattered and thrown out when the raid happened several years ago. You have no money for yourself, knowing how wrong it'd feel for you if you took your mother's money or any of the villagers.

Sure they're gone but for you they are still living inside your heart, their souls roaming around in the village, watching over you, spending their wonderful lives all around the tribe.

You miss them all, you miss everything that had once belonged to the tribe, a small little village where no one should have been able to find. Yet fate is cruel and left you alone to live in a village that is ghosted and no longer in blossom. Sometimes you wonder how you are still alive, and why. Why you? Why not your mother? Or another adult? Or another teen? Maybe a child.

No.

A child would have not been able to survive and neither an elderly.

You heave out a deep sigh that fogs up, relieved for at least the walls of your house keeping the howling wind from freezing you further. You stare down at your fingers and take off the wet gloves.

You have to sew up a new one again. After all, wet clothes in the snowy mountains can never dry warm again, not with the situation you are living in.

You wonder whether given the ability to hunt would have made things easier for you. You'd be able to get your own food, wouldn't you? Instead of living off on herbs and vegetables that are so very hard to grow and find in the endless winter you have been placed in? You don't remember the last time you've had a proper meal, you don't remember the last time you've ever bathed in warm water, or was wrapped up in soft fury blankets, or seen the fire from a lamp.

There are no animals that roams around your village, not even the falcons or eagles fly up here. You are alone. Truly, truly alone.

A tribe that is kept hidden from the other humans, isolated, kept for no one to know it exists because that is how you all live. Everything was going well, a tribe built upon your ancestors for years upon years, only to be washed down by a raid no one was prepared for. Hence you cannot leave this place to try and find your own happiness, to try and find your own Spring. You are the only one left to keep its memories and traditions alive.

Though it is hard, it has been years. You aren't sure how many years you have left. You haven't spoken to anyone in years, haven't felt the touch of anyone since the last time being from the cruel wild dog.

You want to hold someone's hand, wrap your arms around them, have their arms wrapped around you. You want to be loved and you want to love. You want warmth from another man, you want to be touched, just...touched. Whether a small sensation from the tip of a finger or have it held around you. You miss having the advantage to just wake up and greet your mother, jumping her from the back and having her scold you for surprising her every time even though you know more than anyone that she doesn't truly mind it.

You miss her so much. You miss her smile, her gentle fingers brushing your hair away, her kind gaze as she'd look upon you, the crease in her brows as she'd worry for your health when you'd catch even the slightest cold. Your mother was only growing older by the day. You can still remember her falling ill, a turn of events on you to take care of her instead.

So you did.

You bathed her, brushed her soft hair, woke up early to cook her breakfast in the morning before she woke up, sewing both yours and her coats up, went out to collect firewood and herbs, made remedies to keep her health steady, did everything that you could to be a good obedient daughter.

She always worried you wouldn't have time to yourself, urging you to go to festivals or leave the house in general, telling you to go spend some time with your friends, maybe even find someone that has interest in you because she apparently knew there were a few boys in line waiting. You'd always laugh it off and shake your head, not caring about it because you were still so young. But your mother would insist, telling you she'd want you to be with someone that will take care of you well as you were taking care of her.

But you told her that all you needed was her and no one else.

She always frowned at your stubbornness but you weren't going to care for someone who just wanted you because of your face. You want someone to love you for you, past your flaws, to understand everything about you but still loving every part of it.

Mother called you a romantic, you told her that was how father was too and she'd laugh, saying "like mother like daughter."

Indeed.

Because when the raid came in, you asked her to go hide in the basement but she told you otherwise, screaming at your stubborn self, telling you that this is her dying wish. She doesn't care whether you will wed or not, whether you can be a good wife or not, doesn't care about anything except for your safety and protection. You told her you just wanted to spend her last moments with you.

So she held you in her arms, tears endlessly falling, kissing you on the head and whispered "I am here. Always."

And then, she pushed you into the basement and locked the doors.

After hours passed since you last heard the wild dogs fading away, you finally stood up on your feet to bravely leave your basement doors, clutching onto your abdomen with hissing pain.

You found your mother's dead body lying at the entrance, door left ajar, and sobbed and sobbed endlessly because she was no longer breathing and just laid lifeless. You took her into your arms, tears rolling, begging for someone to just make it all better even though you knew more than anyone that that will never happen. You rocked her in your arms for the longest times, forgetting about your own health with blood that still slowly oozes from your body.

Her precious bracelet that your father made for her lied on the floor beside her body, snapped into one single string with beads spread out. You went on to collect it and put it in your pocket, carrying your mother up away from the entrance door and laid her on the couch.

You left her to grab the herbs and remedies to treat your wound and took your cloak half an hour later, leaving the door of your house, and is met by the sight of blood and dead bodies laid on the floor of your village. You ran around, calling, shouting, for anyone to hear you. You barged into homes, rooms, basements, one after the other, calling uselessly for anyone. You walked a few miles away, calling and calling, screaming from the top of your lunges, wondering whether anyone had been dragged away and left there alone.

But there was no one.

No lives were spared.

The children, the poor children, laid alone and in the arms of their loving parents who tried to protect them. Couples held onto each other's hands in their last moments, the grandparents laid by the fireside that no longer runs with fire.

No one was spared. All, everyone, laid on the floor of your village. All of them left dead.

The traumatizing experience spares you no mercy because in the end, it is you that has to carry the bodies of your tribe, digging holes after holes in order to bury every single one of them. You had no wink of sleep, fingers cold and numb yet still forced to work hard and carry their heavy bodies. Your mother was the last of them all, body left spent after all that work, crying and crying endlessly because you could do nothing to protect them, not even one of them, and now they all lie dead under the ground.

All except you who was only seventeen years of age.

"Jungkook?" The God of Music is quick to hold the youngest God whose legs can't keep him steady on his foot. He shivers in Yoongi's arms, shaking, and tears are escaping his eyes before he can try to stop it.

"H-hyung.." Jungkook shudders, breath leaving fogs although the room itself is nowhere near cold. Yoongi can understand him without needing to hear words, a touch alone letting him read his thoughts in an instant. Jungkook tells him what today is, the same day that repeats every year and makes him extra cold though he has no reason why. His heart aches, fingers going numb, and head begins to pound.

The God of Hearth should never feel this way, he has always been powerful just as his soulmates, but this day, this particular day always comes around every year and as he comes close, he feels the shivers until the morning sun appears again and January 24 is here, making him the weakest at this day.

He believes that it relates to their last soulmate, a soulmate hidden from the world and no where to be found with no information except that they are still alive. Alive yet hurt.

"It hurts," Jungkook cries. It is not his pain that he is feeling, it is not his tears that are crying. These do not belong to the God of Hearth but to someone else. "It hurts so much, hyung." Yoongi holds him safe and steady in his arms but this time Jungkook cries his real tears as he leans into the touch of his soulmate, crying because he hurts knowing their last soulmate cannot feel this comfort and warmth for themselves. He begins to beat himself up, angry and frustrated that he can understand these feelings but cannot do anything to make his soulmate feel better.

"We'll find them," the God of Music promises as he presses a kiss to the youngest's head. "We'll find them."

He lets Jungkook know that Jimin believes they must be on Earth and Jungkook begins to think so too. He lets him know that Jimin and Taehyung are preparing to leave when Hoseok raises the morning sun in the mortal realm, that Seokjin and Namjoon will follow. And Jungkook lets him know that he wishes to go to.

He has to know, he has to finally find them, wherever they are.

When the morning sun awakes you, you sit up heavily from the cold, cold bed, shivering and letting out a deep sigh. Yesterday may be over but the memories still lies so vividly in your mind. You drag yourself out of bed, brushing your teeth, washing your face that makes you shiver again because everything is so cold. The kitchen greets you with an empty refrigerator that makes your brows furrow because your stomach growls and you are so hungry.

You sigh again as you head back into your bedroom to grab your cloak and wrap it around yourself, taking a straw basket that you weaved years ago with the help of a loving mother's hand, and put the hood on your head as you step out of your home.

The little children greets you in your memories, the ghost of the adults waving you good morning as you walk down through the memories of their lovely smiles, a few asking you to fetch them certain herbs and chicken eggs as well. You nod at their souls, smiling faintly and saying "Of course, I will be back with them."

A small little boy tugs at the sleeve of your dress and you stop to look down at the ghost of little Mingyu. He wishes to travel down with you but you shake your head, telling him you will be back soon to play with him. He pouts but upon your words, Mingyu doesn't go against you because he loves you like his own older sister.

When you pick up your feet again after bidding him goodbye to continue walking, your face falls as you walk past the wooden archway, chest tightening for a moment and nose thickening because you miss them all. You miss little Mingyu.

But you blink away the tears before it can freeze upon the cold wind, greeting the bright sun that shines above with a tight smile and walk down the little broken stairway made of leveled down snow that leads to the foot of the mountain.

"Maybe if I pray unto the God of Sun, he'll warm the mountain up," you sigh, "or the God of Hearth."

You look down at the empty basket that hasn't been filled for over an hour while your feet numbs from walking so long. No firewood, herbs, or food. You're starving and tired and it hasn't it gotten to noon yet. The slow passing of time makes you sigh at the growling of your stomach. You just want to eat and fall into a warm bed made of soft comfortable mattress and never have to know what the cold means.

But this is your life and although years passed, you still wonder how you're living on. Will you ever find another human to talk with for the rest of your life? The town almost a mile away has a few friendly smiles but it isn't the same as your village. After all, everyone knows everyone there, and you lived by taking care of one another.

You're just so, so tired.

"This..."

They stare at the wooden archway that leads into a village of homes that look as if no one has been here in ages. An abandoned ghost village. Yet they follow Hoseok in as he walks forward, eyes grazing over the broken windows and roofs, a few doors left open and off its hinges, and nothing but the sound of the howling wind and their footsteps are heard.

It's strange but no matter how empty this village is, they can still feel how beautiful life had once been to these mortals. It is a village that has been abandoned for years, no signs of life whatsoever.

"Why are we here, Hoseok?" Namjoon asks as he steps over some broken wood, his brows furrowing at the eerie echoing of the dead souls who had once lived here. It is never easy passing by a place that lets them know something horrible had occurred. They can easily hold the ground and watch the memories of what had happened with their powers but it feels too much to invade such intimate memories.

"I don't know," the God of Sun admits as he continues walking carefully with slow steps, his gaze soft and sad as he looks over everything. "The Sun told me there is still life here and we've visited many places already but we've never come here."

"It's abandoned."

"But you can still feel the life," he tells Taehyung. He knows they believe that perhaps he had only sensed life because a life did used to be here but Hoseok thinks otherwise. "There is a living soul here," he speaks, looking up at the sun for a moment, "she's seen it."

There is something so strange about this village, this tribe. Hoseok cannot understand it and he knows that he can easily retrace the past lives of this village but it feels wrong for some reason. He may be a God who has the ability to know and understand everything but this...this doesn't feel right at all. Not yet at least, and he cannot pinpoint what is it that draws him to this place, a feeling he's never felt with the places they've visited before.

When Jungkook looks around, the coldness lies in his heart, a feeling he has gotten used to since years prior ever since the first January 24th had hurt him. He takes slow steps with his hyungs behind him, carefully watching him and the village and wondering what thoughts are going on in his head. "It's strange but..." his eyes fall to the snow below him, footsteps hidden under the endless snow that continues falling and falling. He feels as if there are fresh footsteps just under the snow but even then he cannot erase the blanket to see it. "There is a life here," he says in a soft whisper.

"If our soulmate is really here," Jimin's eyes fall sad as it wanders all around at the snowy mountain of an abandoned village, his chest tightening with a heart that begins to ache, "they must have been oh so alone."

"Whatever happened here," the God of Music steps up to the center of the village that seems to hold the most memories of them all, sounds of music falling so distant to his ears, something he knows only lies in the past, "there are souls that have yet to be released."

A gasp leaves someone's lips and they are quick to turn around at the foreign voice, a sight that comes with a girl dressed in a dark blue cloak that they know must not be keeping her warm. Her eyes shake with fear, a basket that had fallen to the foot of her dress, hands pressed against her chest as she trembles at the sight of them. Her face pales, mouth drying, and they can hear the mortal's heart beating oh so rapidly.

"Forgive us," Seokjin announces as soon as he can before you can go into a panic. "We did not mean to intrude, is this your home?"

Your heart relaxes for a moment at his voice but you are still filled with fear. You haven't seen anyone in your village for such a long time, not since the raid, and you fear that they must be one of them. "I..I-If you wish to kill me, please do it quickly."

Oh.

Oh no.

Tears fall from your precious eyes and it hurts Jungkook as he shudders at the same time as you. Your eyes fall to him, a little intrigued, but still so, so fearful and he knows, he knows that you must have gone through so much with a heart that beats so rapidly at just the sight of men.

But he isn't a man, he is a God, a high and powerful God that can bend the Earth to its core if he simply wishes to do so. Those eyes of yours look so painful it hurts his own heart. The God of Hearth may have felt coldness before, just as the day before always being the worst of it all, but this...this feeling is a little more strange...foreign yet familiar at the same time.

"We are not here to kill you," he says. "We are Gods."

"...Gods.."

He isn't supposed to say so to hide their identity but it just feels right.

He steps up and the others follow a few feet behind. "I am the God of Hearth and we are looking for our last soulmate. We believe it to be a mortal."

You can tell they aren't normal humans. You can tell they aren't humans at all with the glowing aura all around them and how he calms your heart to a steadier beat at his voice alone. A celestial being. A God. Seven Gods right in front of you.

"No one else lives here," you tell the God of Hearth while his eyes never seem to leave yours as he continues walking forward. You don't step back for some reason, probably because you are too afraid to just leave and run away from a God. "I am the only one who lives here."

He hums. "I see that."

"There is a village about a mile away if you wish to check there."

"Have you not considered another option, dear one?" He asks you, snow crunching under his steps as he continues forward.

You shake your head slowly. "I highly doubt someone like me can even be worthy to be considered a soulmate to the Gods."

Jungkook steps up to you but he doesn't go any further to make sure you feel safe at a good distance. He holds his hands out for you and you watch, confusion displayed in your eyes before you look up at him again with a questioning gaze. "May I?" He simply asks.

You hesitate but this is a God asking you for something so you know you will offend him if you do not do as he asks. So you hold your hand out slowly with him so patient, just watching until you are ready to touch him. He hears the beat of your heart beating rapidly again but remains patient. When you finally allow him to hold your hand, the instant your skin meets him in a delicate touch, a vision falls into his mind.

He sees everything.

He sees the life of a little girl that had been born into a beautiful village and your sweet parents naming you Y/N. The village celebrates the birth of a child just as its always done, a tradition that will never fall away for as long as they are alive. He sees the cute pigtails on your head when you had enough hair for your mother to decorate it. He sees your loving parents that will do everything just to have their little daughter grow into someone precious and kind for the world to meet.

He sees you when you cried with your mother after your father's death, a little girl just twelve years of mortal age who should have never felt such responsibilities hanging off her shoulders at such a young age. But with time and your mother beginning to grow old, you have to step up to be the good daughter and tend to her, missing your own childhood despite how many times your mother tells you to go play while she sleeps. Sometimes she will pretend to have fallen into a dream just to see whether you have listened to her.

But you never leave your mother's side, only worrying for her in case you do leave and do not hear when she coughs and needs your help.

He sees you grow older and maturing to seventeen years old. You'll roll your eyes when your mother tells you to go out and find someone for yourself, telling her that you are too young to even think of marriage and laughing it all off though he can understand that deep inside, you do wish that in the future, not now, someone will come by to love and cherish you as you will love and cherish them.

The days are spent well with you occasionally leaving your home only for errands upon finding herbs, food, and fresh new firewood for your home. Jungkook sees a little boy named Mingyu who will try to sneak away behind your back, following you close behind when you'd walk down the mountain but you'll always catch him in the act. Some days you will allow him to accompany you, some days you will ask him to return home because it is too cold for him to be out.

Your village is lively and lovely, so different from how things look now. They will greet you when you come out and bid you goodbye when you return home. Everyone knows everyone, a tribe built up on a loving family. You rarely attend festivals and celebrations, however, always too busy tending to your sick mother.

But then he sees the one memory that you hate most of all.

He hears the loud barking of wild dogs in the distant, sees how you're begging your mother to hide in the basement and crying because she's telling you otherwise. She wants you to go in instead, knowing her life isn't worth fighting for anymore but that fighting this one last time will be her last mission in life. You cried in her arms when she held you, kissing you on the head, whispering soft words before pushing you into the basement and slamming the doors shut.

He sees your memories then, watching from the small window as your heart aches and numbs at the sight of the slaughtering. He sees you breaking a window, grabbing a shard and stabbing yourself for a pretend death when one of the men barges in with a dog beside him. He feels your fear, scared for your life, afraid of the dog. But you are left alone when the owner doesn't understand the barking of the wild dog.

He sees you as you're running around, screaming and shouting, calling for any survivors but no one, not even a soul, along with your mother and little Mingyu dead on the floors of your village. You're traumatized yet you still dig up holes after holes to bury your tribe in order for them to rest peacefully and not in vain. Your fingers go numb from the hard work and the freezing cold yet you never stop, going past days with no rest in between, tears endlessly falling and freezing under the cold snowy weather.

You haven't eaten a good meal in years, just seventeen years old having to carry the last remaining memories of your tribe, having to survive all on your own with no one by your side. Just seventeen years old having to become dependent on yourself. You learned to make your own clothes instead of just sewing to patch things up. Though it doesn't go well in the beginning, you learn the skills eventually as time passes. The water is always the coldest for you to wash and bathe in, your bed on a hard wood, no pillows, no warmth to keep you safe and secure.

Yet when Jungkook opens his eyes again, you have no hatred and vengeance in your heart, no sign of wanting revenge. The only thing he feels is your fear of your future and how you will continue surviving, questions swarming in your head as to why and how you are still alive after ten years of isolation. He has never met a human so selfless and kind with just the slight light of hope still left in her despite everything. You are afraid but you try not to show it and his heart hurts.

Jungkook turns to his soulmates behind him and they step up, surrounding you. They stand in a circle, fluttering their eyes closed and telling you silently that you must do so as well. Hands are placed upon your arms, soft, delicate and warm touches, and something strange and unfamiliar occurs.

You feel warmth surging through your body, a heat so warm you aren't sure whether this is real or not anymore. But it isn't just the warmth you are feeling, it's the feeling of walking on clouds, euphoria, head spinning with fairy lights and soft, soft ecstasy. It's so much more than the festivities of your tribe that celebrates many traditions, so much more than when you'd play around with little Mingyu who loves you to no end. It is sweet and delicate, fragile yet so strong and firm, not like the promise of your village that will one day be buried under the snow.

You see so many things, a beautiful celestial palace made of heaven lights. You see stars in one room, a whole room filled of the planets and galaxies of universes all around. You see a room filled with books upon books, a room of music, the soft blue tide of the vast ocean that stretches so wide and falls into the horizon, a sun that glows so bright in the sky, a home of warmth and hearth, and Spring. You see Spring for the first time in the life of a wisteria tree. It's petals flutters to the ground though the vines still holds firm and powerful, swaying gently and dancing to the soft whisper of the wind.

You see the life of the Gods before you. Meeting one another as if destiny has placed them in each other's paths. Soft smiles, soft hellos and goodnights, soft touches and soft kisses pressed against one another. A soft, soft love that whispers in their ears each passing day. When one is away they will feel empty, already missing one's presence the second they leave the palace grounds. Together they make each other stronger than any other Gods. Everyone around them looks up to them, bowing their ways, worshipping their presence for seven soulmates is much stronger than two souls.

Yet no matter how happy they are, there is still something missing. The wisteria may look divine but it is not in its full bloom, it is not as strong as it should be. The petals that falls off the vines hangs in vain and sadness, fluttering to the floor, still wishing and needing one last puzzle that is missing.

A missing soulmate.

You feel the aching in the God of Hearth's heart, how he will shiver on some occasions, the way he hurts the most on January 24th. And you think you understand what the means. January 24th is not a day that is happy for you, a day that is filled with grief and pain, a day that is the coldest out of any other day. You think you understand because the flame of the Hearth is a light that gives warmth to the mortals. But you have not been the warmest in the years that passed by since the raid. You think...perhaps...you understand.

"Do you understand?" You open your eyes to find them staring into your soul, and they can feel that you understand but have some doubts. "You are the one, my sweet precious mortal," the God of Knowledge holds your face in his hand and you find yourself consciously leaning into the touch. The warmth is nice. You love it so much you wish to cry. "You are our last soulmate."

"Will you accept us?" The God of Ocean asks. "Will you come home to us? Allow us to give you an endless warmth that shall never disappear?"

"To live an immortal life? Become an immortal yourself?"

"To never have to know what pain and hurting feels like ever again. To never feel afraid anymore."

"Will you let us protect you from now on? Give you a home, a safe, warm home."

"And let you meet the one thing you have always been waiting for. To let you see Spring."

Spring.

They can feel the way your heart skips a beat at the sound and Jimin smiles softly. You have always wished to see what Spring looks like, when the Winter will melt away and the birds will chirp and flowers will grow, blooming to their fullest and giving off such sweet scents. You want to smell the flowers, to feel the rain kissing your body, to see a rainbow, to go barefoot and feel the grass poking through the gaps of your toes. You want to lie on the ground, run around freely without heavy coats on you, to feel a breeze that will not make you shiver and have your nose growing red.

You want to be kissed by Spring, greeted with a beautiful welcome and never have to leave its warmth. You want it, you want to meet Spring.

But they can also feel the hesitation in your heart. You do not wish to leave your village like this, you're the only one left to hold its memories after all, the only one left of your tribe. They feel hatred and anger for the ones that have made you suffer for so long, to live alone in isolation and miss the feeling of someone touching you for a whole ten years. They want to hunt those humans down, their selfishness and greed for blood making them boil to serve them justice.

"I.." you speak up timidly, a little fearful that it won't be right to do so but Yoongi places a gentle hand on your head, soothing it gently.

"It's alright, little one. You will never offend us if you ever wish to speak."

You pick up your courage to look at the village before you. "I don't want to leave my home like this."

"There are souls of your tribe that is still roaming around, little one," Namjoon informs you and your head snaps to him, eyes brimming with tears and making him sad to see them.

"You can see them?" You ask, breath shaky.

He shakes his head lightly. "We can feel them. They are here, sweet one." He takes your hand into his hold as he gently brings you to the middle of the village before turning you so that you can face the grounds. "Their souls have been left broken and shattered but they've never given up hope because of you."

"Because of me?"

The God of Knowledge hums. "You've survived for so long trying to keep this place alive." He's seen the way you pretend everyone was still here, watching their ghosts through your memories and speaking to them as if they were still alive.

"They haven't been able to rest in peace," you realize with sad eyes.

"Don't worry," Seokjin steps up as he places a hand on your shoulder and watches the memories with you, "I can send them off now for you."

"You can do that?"

He nods, humming. "All they've ever wanted was for you to live as if you are living again. And now they see hope." Through him. "They can go on now because their little Y/N can find something worth living for."

A tear falls from your eye and Namjoon squeezes your hand in a gentle manner.

"It will be alright," he tells you softly. "You can bid your goodbyes now."

All your ten years of living alone you thought that your tribe would wish for you to keep the tradition in your memories, to never let it die. You never knew that what they truly wanted, what they all wanted, was for you to live again. So a few more tears escape your eyes as your chest tightens and a hand reaches out into the open. You pretend that someone has taken your hand, your mother, with little Mingyu just beside you and the rest of the village behind them. You pretend that they are smiling down at you, softly bidding their goodbyes.

You can hear your mother whispering for you to be happy now and you can hear little Mingyu telling you to smile again.

You nod at them, closing your hand into a small fist. "Goodbye," you say and when Seokjin, the God that holds the galaxies, close his eyes, you can feel the souls leaving one by one, drifting off to the skies with little waves made at you.

They can finally rest in peace at last.

"Come here," the Sun God holds a hand out for you a few seconds later and you go to him with no hesitation, letting him take your hand. "You are hurt, my dear. Can you close your eyes?" You do as he asks and feel soft lips pressing against your forehead seconds later.

Hoseok releases his magic to transfer into your body, letting you feel a warmth rising, a warmth that makes you feel so light on your feet. It runs through your veins, healing the numbness of your fingers and toes, collecting the water from where your body stays cold, lifting the freezing feeling from you and replacing it with the warmth of the sun. Wherever there had been scars on your body, he heals as well. The scar that rests near your stomach is lifted as if it had never been there before and when he leans away, you still feel so light on your feet.

"Thank you," you say with a slight blush forming on your soft cheeks when you lift your eyes to find him so close.

Hoseok smiles, understanding through the touch that you find him attractive, an information he finds convenient because you yourself is so beautiful he can hardly believe his eyes. You have the beauty not meant for a human, a beauty that glows so delicately he doesn't believe anyone can be worthy to look upon you. "Of course, dear one," he tells you and presses another kiss to your forehead, this one being actually meant to be a kiss.

Your cheeks warm a little more at the gesture and he chuckles, loving your reactions to every little thing.

"Are you ready, my love?"

My love.

You red at the soft name from the God of Music and think that perhaps you will have to get used to such things. So you nod at him and Yoongi takes your hand. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you do so with no question.

Something shifts under your feet and you can feel your surrounding changing despite not actually seeing. When Yoongi tells you you can open your eyes again, you are met with a bright world just in front of you. The memories that belongs to them rushes back to you and you realize this is their home, their palace. It is so divine you can hardly believe your eyes. The castle stands so tall with a magnificent garden that surrounds its grounds.

You breathe in the wonderful scent and almost sway on your feet.

Spring. It smells like Spring.

You rush forward to walk up the steps of the castle and look back as you skip in, sounds of giggles escaping your lips and making their own hearts so warm. The sight of you so happy at the little things alone makes them smile as they walk in, following the curious little mortal who wishes to see everything. But they know that you will have time to see everything later. Right now you're tired and need to rest.

"My love." You turn at the call of Taehyung's voice and skip back to him, ears attentive. The God of Ocean gaze fondly at you as he lifts his hand to tuck your hair behind your ears. "You are tired, my sweet angel." He hears your thoughts, the embarrassment of how you must look with your damp clothes and messy hair from the strong wind of the Winter mountain and pets you on your head. "You can wash first," he says and your eyes widen a little with a little moment of confusion before he feels you understand that you are soulmates now and they can read your thoughts through just simple touches.

"Okay," you say with your sweet voice. He doesn't think he will ever get over such music to his ears.

"Come now." He takes your hand and leads you down the grand hall of the castle where you will be spending the rest of your life in.

The water is so different from the freezing cold back on the mountain. It is so warm and gentle you almost feel like falling asleep in the bath. It's grand, a bathtub so large and you think that perhaps the Gods share their bath times together. You blush at the thought of possibly needing to do that as well, not yet ready at the moment but knowing that in the near future you will one day bathe with them.

You giggle to yourself thinking of it and submerge your head into the water as if you should not have thought of such things. But you know that it's fine, you are soulmates after all, connecting in ways simple relationships of the mortals will never come to feel and understand. It's a nice thing you know you will love to get used to as you swoop up a few rose petals in your hand, breathing in the rose scent bath and laying your head back.

What a lovely life you know you will never get tired of.

Just hours prior you were freezing cold as you wandered the grounds of the mountain, trying to collect herbs and firewood, trying to find food. Nothing comes easy living in the mountain especially while living in isolation so some days you would have to go to sleep shivering so hard, some days you would have to suffer through fevers and other health risks, and some days you would have to starve for a few days until you can find food to eat.

Looking back on the memory not far back yet, you feel a rushing fear crawling down your spine as you think that perhaps this can all be a dream, just a wishful thinking, a daydream, and you'd wake up to the coldness of your lonely home all over again.

You've had dreams before, of living with warmth, living in Spring, and woke up only to fall sad all over again as you realize it had all been a dream. But right now this feels too real to be a dream yet at the same time, too true to be true, and you hate how you're so frightened of having to go back to your old life. Will that ever go away as time passes? Or will you wake up thinking time did passed when this had indeed all been a dream?

You let out a soft sigh as you think about the possibilities, brows furrowing with a sadness that hurts your heart.

But then you hear soft music playing, the sound of a beautiful harp as if the God of Music had just heard your thoughts and wishes to ease you from it. Your heart flutters as you look around, face brightening all over again wondering if Yoongi is thinking of you right now. He must be, right? A few butterflies untangle themselves in your tummy and begin to flutter freely.

Oh how you hope this is all a reality and not just a wishful dream.

The harp continues on and on, softly wanting to lure you to sleep but you know that you must get out first and not fall asleep in the bath.

When you open the doors to the bedroom timidly, head poking out shyly because you know they're in there, they smile at the sight of you and silently welcome you in. You have on a sheepish smile as you walk in dressed in a white bathrobe with wet hair and looking so pretty and clean.

Your skin glows with a fresh flowery scent and they almost fall breathless at the sight of your beauty right before them. They knew you were beautiful the moment they laid eyes on you but now that you're fresh and out of the bath, they can't believe you can look even more beautiful.

Jimin walks up to you and runs a towel along your head to dry your wet hair, fearing that you may catch a cold if it isn't dried right away. Sure you may be used to the cold but they still feel overprotective of you and wish for nothing to happen to you. You're their precious girl now, after all, and they will never let anything bad happen to you again. You've suffered for far too long living all alone and just trying to survive through the cruel reality of life.

When he sees the soft pink on your cheeks, Jimin smiles as he realizes you must have read his thoughts. "You are so beautiful, my love." Your heart flutters under his gaze and words and Jimin can't believe they have gotten such a precious soul to be their last piece of the puzzle. "We have to get you your own clothes but for now will you fit mine?"

You nod at his offer and suddenly feel a flutter of the wind before you lightly gasp down at yourself, a sight of the God of Spring's royal robe wrapped around your body to replace the white bathrobe. "Wow," you say in awe and they chuckle at how easily you are astonished. It's a little big on you, the robe falling to the floor and hiding your feet, sleeves a little too long and sliding off just slightly from your shoulders. But it is a sight that makes Jimin excited seeing you in his clothes.

He takes your chin in his hand for you to look up at him and presses a kiss right on the tip of your nose. "You must be hungry." Right on time your stomach growls and you lick your lips, causing him to grin.

They feed you a meal that is laid out on a tray, not allowing you to use your hands for one second and insisting to do the job instead. They spoil you with so many things that in the end, you become so full and have to push their hands away before they can feed you some more. But you let Namjoon hand you a fruit before you fall back into Jungkook's chest.

"Sleepy?" He senses your energy, watching as your eyes flutter drowsily and runs a finger down to the tip of your nose. "Sleep, my dear, you've had such a long day."

You take ahold of his hand, small fist wrapping around his forefinger after grabbing the courage to snuggle in close and the God of Hearth chuckles as they all coo. "But what if I wake up back on the mountain?" You worry and he understands that you have been thinking of it back in your alone moment in the bathtub. Jungkook knows then that it is not a good idea to leave you alone for long, not when you'll begin to question whether it is right for you to truly be happy because he knows that you deserve all of this.

A happy life, to be loved and cherished.

"I'm scared," you whimper though your eyes are drowsy and you let out a yawn soon after.

"Trust me, my love, we will be right here when you wake up."

"Promise?" You ask in a small voice.

He hums. "I promise."

"Kiss me goodnight?" They chuckle and does as you ask, placing soft kisses upon your face and head, missing the one spot that leaves your lips. But you're fine with it. Not yet, it will come with time when you are a little more comfortable.

You hear the morning birds chirping for the first time and that is what excites you awake.

It comes out so soft to your ears at first, you lying on your side with someone holding you from behind and Yoongi right in front of you. The bed is large enough to hold many people and you blush under their closeness before you fall distracted by the song of the birds. A light gasp leaves you when you continue to hear it, its chirping falling so gentle and sweet so you sit up and take Seokjin's arm off you to crawl off the bed.

Your light footsteps leaves you past the curtains and onto the large balcony that greets you with the kisses of the gentle breeze. You grin brilliantly as you lean onto the railing, back arching forward as you breath in the sweet smell of the warm air. Before you lies the crystal ocean that goes on and on past the horizon where the sun lies up above. It shimmers under the light of the morning sun, sparkling like gemstones and you realize that no, you haven't woken up to a freezing cold and damp blanket with the howling wind of the mountain greeting you awake.

You have no need to prepare yourself to head out into the cold, trying to find herbs and firewood, trying to find food. You have no need to worry about that anymore because this is your life now. Greeted by the lovely breeze, greeted by Spring, greeted by love.

Someone comes up behind you and you jump for a moment before feeling his arms wrap around you from behind, his familiar hands welcoming you in with a head nuzzling into your neck before simply resting right on your shoulder. "Good morning, sweet love," he greets in a low husky voice to tell you that he had just woken up. A smile curls along his lips as he reads your thoughts of how much you love his deep voice.

"You kept your promise."

"Of course," Jungkook chuckles. "This feels nice, does it not?"

You hum, leaning back closer to his hold. "It's so different. So warm."

"I feel better too," he admits and reminds you through his thoughts of how the God of Hearth also had to suffer a bit because his heart connects to you in a way more special compared to the rest. The Hearth's flame is meant for the mortals after all.

"I'm sorry," you tell him and Jungkook frowns.

"No, my love, you have no need to apologize. This was never your doing."

"But it must have been difficult hurting and not knowing why."

He turns you in his hold so that you can face him, face leaning in close with a pout. "You suffered so much more than I," he reminds you as he brushes your hair away to the side. "I knew you were suffering, we all did, but it took so long to finally find you."

"That isn't your fault. I lived in isolation in a village that should have never been found."

"I only wish we had found you sooner."

You shake your head lightly. "Nothing can be done to turn back time now."

Oh how Jungkook loves you already. You have such a kind soul, a selfless soul, with no darkness in sight despite all that had happened to you. He wonders how you were able to do this, held onto hope for so long, to spend ten years all alone in a place that kept you so cold and freezing, lacking the ability to touch another being, visited by no one but the knocking of the restless wind outside your home.

He wants to make it all better, to help you heal and grow, and to only hold onto precious happy memories from now on.

When you look back at him with a sweet gaze, he knows that you can understand him despite no words said. You can read him too and Jungkook smiles as he rest his forehead against yours, just holding you there as the two of you revel in the soft breeze that passes by. You can feel cold no longer, nothing but a soft warmth that the God of Hearth holds with him.

When the afternoon comes, you're wandering around the castle, watching through the memories of your Gods to remember what room lies where. You've ran through the magnificent garden barefoot, smelling the scent of all the flowers that were grown, touching the petals and feeling how soft it is under your touch. The grass tickles your feet, the stone paths rubbing you gently. A fountain sits at the center of the garden, hedges displayed all around sort of like a maze.

Everything is green and colorful with the robe of Jimin's dragging behind you as you become the curious little fella who runs around everywhere because everything fascinates you. You travel down to the ocean next, feeling the white sand under your bare feet and giggling as you touch and run from the water that comes and goes. Seashells are found all around the beach, little crabs running around and crawling into your palm when you let it. It does you no harm though you have heard stories of all crabs being able to pinch anyone that touches them.

Perhaps the humans really do not know much. But then again, maybe you should not have trust a tribe that only knows what Winter looks like. You laugh to yourself thinking about it and then become a little more curious as you recall the library you saw in your memories. It must belong to Namjoon, the God of Knowledge.

You stand up from the beach, letting the little crabs crawl back down onto the sand and wave them goodbye before you leave for the castle again. You run through a path with trees at two sides, reminding you that you should check out the wisteria as well after the library. You retrace your steps as you look into your memories to understand where the books are, skipping around the halls of the castle care freely with shoes now on, staring at the tall ceiling up above, the beautiful crystal glass windows in designs of each God or of plants and simple objects.

When you open the familiar looking doors from your memories, you gasp at the sight of the thousands of books placed on shelves upon shelves, leading into the room and looking like an endless hall. It looks so much more enchanting than what you had seen in the memories just as the garden and the ocean. You cannot believe there are so many books, almost every one of them you know you have never read.

"Well hello there my dear." You jump at the voice before understanding that it belongs to the God of Knowledge as he emerges from a shelf that had hidden him. He holds an open book in hand with a sweet smile resting on his face, charming dimples displayed upon his cheeks and making your heart skip a beat.

"Namjoon," you sigh as you skip up to him. "The gardens are so beautiful! Jimin created it, didn't he? And the ocean, it's so vast and magnificent I cannot believe such beauty exists in this universe. I know there are so many other places to visit but I don't know how I can look at them all before growing exhausted by running all over."

He laughs as he holds your face, fingers tracing down your temple and down your jaw. "My love you have all the time in the world to explore. You must remember to not exhaust yourself so fast."

"There's just so much to see," you beam before letting out a gasp as if you had just recalled something. "I want to read!"

He chuckles fondly. "Do you now?"

"Mn!"

"Come here." He takes your hand, not needing to voice out what books you would like to read because he can already read your mind. So he leads you down to the center of the library where lays a circle of shelves. He walks you to the middle, holding onto your waist steady as you bite against your lower lip with anticipation, already understanding even before the floor lifts into the air upwards because you have seen it in the memories.

The lift brings the two of you up to where a flooring hovers in the air, supported by fluffy white clouds that falls past your hands but will support your weight when you step onto it. You giggle as you feel the clouds on your feet before letting Namjoon sit you upon a comfortable chair shaped in a ball and made of clouds. He hands you a book taken out of thin air.

"If there is anything else you need, just call me."

You nod eagerly before leaning your back into the chair and open up to the first page of the book.

You're addicted in no time and spend hours upon hours forgetting about everything else as you dive into the world of imaginations created on pieces of paper.

"My love?" You hear him when you are on your fifth book, humming softly to indicate that you hear him but your eyes remain on the little words displayed on the pages of the book. Namjoon sighs. "Come now." You pout. "It is time for dinner, sweetheart."

"Just...one more chapter."

He knows what that sounds like and shakes his head as he walks up to you, taking the book away and having you whining after it. The God of Knowledge chuckles at how adorable you are and mark the page you are on before closing it shut. You pout again but he presses a kiss to your head and makes you blush. Namjoon loves your little reactions to simple romantic gestures. "Come now," he repeats and holds his hand out.

This time you do not protest.

"Go on, try them on."

You collect the dresses in hand and they watch as you head for the bathroom only to pause in your steps and turn back with a sheepish smile.

"What is it?" Hoseok asks.

"Will you dress me instead?" Heat blooms upon your face when their eyes widen and you realize what they think you mean by that and is quick to stutter through. "N-not like that! I meant will you..uh...u-use your powers? You know, like how Jimin dressed me in his robe?"

You are so adorable when you're flustered and a blushing mess because you aren't used to relationships like this. The only thing you've been exposed to in this life is a beautiful love of a village and the parents that had raised you. You've known nothing about loving a man, was never able to be given that privilege because your tribe had gone before anything could truly happen, before you could even think about trying to find another who could protect and love you. So of course you are shy when you're around them but they know more than anyone that this is alright, you're okay, and they will love and cherish you in place of the loneliness that had bloomed over the past ten years.

So when Taehyung stands before you and you shy away, he does not mind it, knowing one day you will come around to it. He caresses your face for a moment, reading your thoughts filled of embarrassment and letting you read him to let you know that this is fine, this is alright and he does not mind anything. You are soulmates after all, meant for one another and written under the stars. You have no need to shy away under their gaze, free to speak your mind, and that even if you did mean what they had initially thought, they would dress you still.

But he tells you that he understands you are not ready just yet and lets you know that this is fine, this is alright. You can take as much time as you need, as much as you want, and none of them will ever mind.

His feelings allow you to calm, blush slowly falling away and Taehyung smiles at the sight of your shoulders falling back down to your sides. He snaps his fingers and you feel the flutter of the familiar wind just as the first time it was done to you and they watch as the dress falls onto your skin. It hugs you perfectly, soft golden shimmers falling all the way to the floor with beautiful yellow petals decorated almost all around.

You are a sight they have been blessed with, a beauty too perfect for the eyes to even dare see. They find themselves so lucky to have someone like you as their last soulmate, a lovely pretty lady with such a gentle heart too pure for the world.

"You are truly beautiful, my love." You blush again at Seokjin's words who holds a fond gaze upon your face.

"Mmn," Hoseok hums, "but as much as we'd like to stay and just stare at you all day, we must leave."

Your brows crease slightly as you look up at him. "You're all leaving?"

"Hoseok and I," Seokjin tells you as he strokes your cheek to ease your little worries, "the rest will be here."

"Where are you going?" You ask.

He looks at the Gods for a brief moment before gifting you a small smile. "To give justice to the ones that were the cause to your pain and suffering."

"Oh." You shiver and he can feel your fear and the slight aching that reaches your heart.

"Do not worry, my love," Hoseok says as he walks up to your other side to take your hand and kiss the back of it. "We will take care of everything from now on, alright?"

They let you know that they do not love violence, that they would much rather deal with things with words but when time comes, some things are meant to play out with violence if needed. They tell you that they will deal with this logically and not of blind anger and you nod at their unspoken words, head leaning against Seokjin's touch and squeezing Hoseok's hand lightly to let them know that you trust them to make the right decisions.

"We will be right back," the eldest tells you and you nod.

When they disappear to transport themselves away, you're still slightly conflicted as the memories begin returning. "Come here," Yoongi encourages with soft words as he holds out a hand to you. "When was the last time you've heard music?"

Besides that time in the bathtub it has truly been far too long. So you let him whisk you away from the bedroom and into a room that you had once seen in the memories.

Yoongi's grand music room is divine. Instruments are displayed in perfect order, harps and pianos and the violins and all sorts of musical instruments, even some you have never seen before in your life. You are from the mountain after all, and your tribe hasn't really come to understand and seen much but you've seen a few common instruments in the picture books the elderlies would tell stories upon.

He takes you up a flight of stairs made of glass, spiraling up towards what looks like the ceiling but you know that he is bringing you to some place a little more special as you have seen in the memories. The stairs lead up to the roof where you walk onto the platform of the tower made of pillars that circles the floor and lets you see down the grounds of the palace and past it, a sight much more than the balcony in the bedroom.

You are so high up you feel like you might fall but with Yoongi behind you as you hold onto a pillar and look down, you know that you are safe. You can see almost everything. The ocean, the outline of the gorgeous garden surrounding the castle, how enormous the castle is, and an enchanting forest that surrounds the palace grounds.

"The more I visit these memories in real life, the more speechless I become because everything is just so...breathless!"

The God of Music chuckles as you spin around to feel the wind rush around you, flaring your dress out and making you look like a fairy. He sits on a little stool, fingers beginning to pluck the strings on the harp and you fall silent as you sit down to watch Yoongi, eyes fluttering close after a moment just to hear the sound of the beautiful music playing as the wind carries it from room to room and over the ocean and forest that surrounds the palace grounds.

It's magical, every note perfectly played and echoing out into the world for all to hear.

This is the music of the Gods.

Yoongi has to go somewhere after a while so you are left alone to yourself, happily skipping down the halls again in trying to see where your feet will lead you first; the wisteria or the galaxy room that belongs to Seokjin. Both rooms you truly want to see and knowing you have plenty of time yet too excited to wait.

You walk into a grand open space before blindly taking a right without looking back into the memories to know where you are going. Sometimes being lost is the best way to discover new things, your curiosity only getting the best of you as you giggle about in the halls. But then you feel a presence and stop walking, brows furrowed slightly with confusion and curiosity, wondering whether it is one of the Gods.

Until you hear a bark and fear crawls down your back as you turn and see a sight that fears you most of all.

When they hear the scream, they are quick to transport themselves to you in an instant with Jimin wrapping his arms around you and holding your face against his chest. You shake in fear, crying into his protective hold as Jungkook steps up to the guard dog whom they have simply forgotten was still around. You're afraid of dogs after those wild ones had been the ones to track your village down and almost kill you along the rest of your tribe. So he signals for it to leave as quickly as possible, the dog a little confused he had scared someone but disappearing at his master's order.

He turns back to you when it's finally gone for you to finally relax but as they watch you shaking in Jimin's arms and refusing to look up, their heart breaks at the sight. Jimin can understand your thoughts, mind retracing back to the memories on the day it all crashed down for you. He sees you reminded of when you were down in your basement, bleeding out, faking your death as the dog walked over and sniffed at you.

You can hear the continuous barking as it tries to tell its owner that you are still alive, that you're just faking your death. It growls your way when its owner shouts at it to follow him and you can still feel its eyes on you even as it leaves.

Jimin runs his hand up and down along your back, whispering soft soothing words to help you calm, to remind you that you are alright now, that they are here and nothing can harm you ever again. You know, he understands that you know, but you're still afraid of everything being just a dream and that one day you will indeed wake up from this beautiful world. Jimin holds you tightly in his arms, brows furrowed, meeting the gaze of Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon who shares the same conflicted thoughts and anger for what you had to go through.

Their precious girl, their precious soulmate who suffered so much because of human greed and the inability to feel as they do not hesitate one tiny bit upon killing a whole tribe made of small warriors, children, women, and elderlies who never hoped to ever fight in wars.

They can only pray for Seokjin and Hoseok to hear their anger and do well upon punishing the people that had done this to you.

You asked them to leave you be so that you can remain alone for a while. Of course the Gods weren't going to allow you without complaint, trying to convince you otherwise as they worry for you and although you felt touched, you shook your head then, too tired to argue and just wanting to be left alone because you are so used to dealing with everything by yourself. So you walk around the castle again, footsteps now heavy and slow, just letting your feet carry you to wherever. It's isolating and lonely, a feeling you hadn't felt for a few days, returning with melancholy and fear.

You don't know what to do, how this will all work out, why you have even become a soulmate of seven powerful and loving Gods too sweet for their own goods. You don't deserve this, you deserve to remain where you were, back on the mountain, trying to survive on your own.

You can still feel the numbness of your fingers, your aching feet as it walks and walks, trying to find just simple things in order to live on each day. You can still hear the howling of the wind as it passes by and by, the snowflakes that falls endlessly from the ongoing Winter skies, the ghost of a village that had once been so lovely and full of life. Everything was so wrong then, to grow old as a seventeen years old mortal, crying and crying yet having the need to pick yourself up because you knew crying wasn't going to bring anyone back. You had to stand up, to pick up the shovels, to dig and bury, to wipe your tears away and suck it all up because of the humans that knew no difference between love and hate.

Still you never felt any vengeance towards them, just fear and pain because they could not understand to care or have a heart. The world is a scary placed filled with scary people and frightening things that will visit your sleep and taint your lovely dreams.

You know this is wrong, to run away and try to face your problems alone when you have soulmates, Gods who just wants to make it all better. You know it is wrong to take that away from them, to shut them out, and to put up a wall. But you are afraid to feel happy, knowing it will never last forever and that one day, even if this is all true, perhaps this will all end. You are afraid to give into the love, to let them take care of you. What if they find something within you that they do not particularly like? Would you have to change? Do you have to be perfect? They are Gods after all and you are just a lone human walking in the heavens.

Why are you here? Why have you tried to be happy when you know you cannot?

Something falls onto the foot of your dress, a flutter, a fluttering petal, then another. You look up, eyes trailing the path of the little petals that the wind has carried to your feet and there, right in front of you lies the one beautiful thing that had struck hard in the memories the Gods had given onto you.

A wisteria.

You remember how the Gods will visit this room of the celestial tree lying in the center of the palace, a circle opening roof lying on the top to give it its sunlight and rain when it needs it. Its leaves and petals fall around the foot of it, the wind carrying it to flutter a few feet away. When the Gods come, they will reach out and give it the power it needs in order to grow strong, the God of Spring being the most frequent guest since he had been the one to grow it in the first place. But you know how their love have made the tree stronger with just one simple touch. As each new soulmate is found, they will visit the tree and touch its vine, releasing their energy to the tree and helping it to grow to its max.

And you are the last one, the remaining soulmate that will make it grow into its full blossom.

A hand reaches out hesitantly, head tilted slightly to the side with wonder, and you see the way a vine begins to reach out as well. But just as you're about to let it wrap around your hand, you take your hand back to fall behind you.

Afraid.

"Why do you falter?" You hear the God of Spring from behind you, knowing it is him without needing to look back. His footsteps walk towards you but stops halfway. "I know you asked us to leave you alone but I cannot, my love. I know you are still frightened."

You do not say a thing for a while, just staring at the tree before you with thoughts running all over. He wishes he can read your mind but he will need to touch you for that and right now he isn't sure if he is welcomed to do so or not. So Jimin remains where he is, giving you a safe distance in case you absolutely do not want him around. Perhaps he should leave, let you be, but Jimin worries that the horrible thing your mind may lead you to think will only hurt you more and he does not wish to see you in any more pain.

"It won't be easy you know..." you say in a soft, soft whisper.

His brows furrow, wondering what you mean.

"...trying to love me."

Jimin cannot take it no longer so he steps up in front of you to look you straight in the eyes, his gaze serious and filled with pain. Not because you said he couldn't love you but because you think it will take so much effort just to love you. You, the sweetest most kindest and selfless soul he has ever met, someone who doesn't wish death upon the ones that made you suffer for so long, someone who only wishes the enemy could learn to love rather than getting vengeance on them. You who was only a teen when her tribe was murdered. You who was forced to grow old and pick yourself up when you were hurting the most, seeing the dead bodies of your family, carrying their bodies, burying them into the grounds of the mountain.

Jimin hurts because you do not see worth within yourself, he hurts because you cannot see yourself living a happily ever after, you who is too afraid to love and be happy because you are afraid it will backfire and your story will end with pain and suffering.

He takes your hand, pressing it against his chest to let you understand all the emotions he is feeling. He lets you understand his pain, his frustration and anger towards the ones that have made you see yourself in such darkness, and lets you understand that no, no it will not be difficult. It will be the easiest thing in the world.

"Do you know why?" He asks you. "Do you know why it will be the easiest thing in the world?" He feels that you don't so Jimin continues with tears the prick in his eyes and falls before he can blink them away. Your heart hurts at the sight and begin to cry yourself but Jimin is going to tell you. "Because I have already fallen in love from the moment I laid my eyes on you."

You fall perplexed. "But...you didn't know I was your soulmate then."

"I knew," he tells you. "I knew from the first moment you looked at me with fear. I knew since I stepped foot into your village. I loved you then, Y/N, whether you believe me or not. I loved you and I love you still. It may have only been just a few days but I love you so much."

"I do too."

The two of you look at the voice of the God of Hearth who had lean against the entrance way, picking himself up when you meet his gaze and begins to walk your way.

"I loved you before we even met," he says, "loved you from the first moment I was hurting because of the pain that connects us. My flame comes from Earth and the only way it can truly grow strong is if you are safe and warm. I have never felt stronger in my entire lifetime, I have never felt such flame burning in my heart. But even before I knew who you were, I knew I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, give you a home, give you my hearth."

"There is no ocean vast enough, no ocean deep enough to compare our love." The God of Ocean walks in from another entrance, voice deep and serious.

"There are so many chapters left for us to unfold," says the God of Knowledge. "There are so many more stories to come, for us to explore, for us to learn and understand one another."

"But as we've said before," Seokjin stands beside Jimin, "we have all the time in the universe to get to know one another."

"You do not have to love us now, you do not have to feel the same," Hoseok tells you.

"But just know," Yoongi says, "just know that we love you."

They see the tears in your eyes, how it descends, the way it escapes and trails down your precious cheeks, hanging along your chin before eventually dripping down. You sob as they hold onto you, soft touches to let you know that they are not lying, that everything is true and that they will make it better, they will make it right. If you'd let them, they will stop at nothing just to see that precious smile on your face, to hear your beautiful giggles echoing into the halls and rooms. They will love you like how a man can never love, like a God's immortal love that has no ending even as they may one day lose their immortality.

For years in your life you always wondered whether you will be blessed with another by your side or not, and wondering how it will ever happen. Even before the raid came in, a daughter who only cared for her mother through her times of sickness, never once spending time to look at another in the light of attraction and love. You've only seen your tribe as a family. It was never easy growing up alone after the raid, never easy to know that there was a possibility of you dying alone and the world will have no idea.

Yet they come in like a soft blanket, the exact thing you needed, giving you warmth and closure, providing you food and endless love. You are unsure of how you can ever be enough but they tell you that you need not to trust your own thoughts but to trust theirs instead.

Because they love you and find no faults in your flaws, no fault in you whatsoever. To them you are more than enough, more than the love of the world itself and they will never stop to help you realize that.

So when Jimin holds your face to gently brush away your remaining tears, you thank them through your thoughts. He leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, whispering, "You have no need to thank us from now on. No Gods nor universe can ever stop us for wanting to love you."

Your cheeks blossom with roses at his soft words and you tell him, "I think I'm ready."

He understands.

So the Gods step back to allow you room for the wisteria who stands tall with patience no matter its slow withering. You reach out a little more confidently than before, watching as it joins you in the middle and feel it wrapping its vine around your hand and wrist. You close your eyes, letting it take your love and energy that flows from your body to heal the wisteria. It holds onto you firmly but does not ever hurt you in any way. It is gentle in his taking and you know that the wisteria will give back for the love you are providing it.

Giving you immortality for you to spend all of your life with the Gods who will never fall out of love with you.

When the wisteria unwraps itself from your hand, you know that it is done and let your hand fall back to your side. The eight of you watch as the tree glows of a thousand starlight, blooming to its max capacity with its shade of colors growing stronger than the years before it. Your eyes sparkle as you stare at the celestial tree who gives back light to not just you but your Gods who stands beside you.

You feel full and anew and smile gently when the glowing begins to fade while it remains tall with its blossoming vines.

When your head spins with dizzy and drowsiness, the Gods are right there to hold you. "You must rest now, my dear," the God of Spring whispers to you as your eyes begin to haze and fall closed.

"I'm tired," you say as darkness begins to consume your world. But they are right here beside you to let you know that you are alright. You know you are, this happens when one gives their love and energy to the wisteria, you've seen it in the memories.

"Mmn," you hear the voice again. So soft, so soothing, and your body falls to rest as you are held up into someone's arms. "Rest now, my sweet love."

The birds chirp again, soft and melodic, sweetly singing you a morning lullaby. When you open your eyes and yawn awake, the God of Stars lays right before you while a hand from someone else holds onto you from behind. You look back to find the God of Knowledge who grips you a little more, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck and letting you give out a soft giggle.

Seokjin brushes your hair from your face as he watches you with a gentle gaze. "Good morning, dear one."

"Good morning," you sigh.

"Have you slept well?" You nod and he can feel your energy through the touch, relieved at the answer before kissing you on your forehead. "The others have yet to wake, it is quite early after all, and they've had a long night." You tilt your head to the side and he answers you before you can ask the question aloud. "No need to worry, sweetheart, we just had to deal with a few things in order to make this place more safer for you."

"Oh." You frown and he can already feel the guilt rushing in. "I'm so sorry."

"No, my dear," Seokjin is quick to say, "you have no need to apologize."

"I-I didn't mean for the dog to go or anyone else, I-I just-"

"You were frightened, my love, and no fear of yours will ever be taken lightly," he tells you as he take ahold of your hand. "You have no need to be sorry for something that is not yours to control. Those wild ones were at fault, it is not in your hands to choose what will frighten you and what will not."

Going through drastic measures just to make sure you are safe and protected, just to make sure you are comfortable at a place that will be your home for the rest of your life. You are touched by their actions, touched by everything they do for you and your eyes begin to tear up. Seokjin smiles softly at the sight of you, understanding what you mean through the touches and goes on to brush away your small tears.

"Come on," he whispers as he takes Taehyung's hand off him to sit up, "I know you have been curious to see my stars."

Oh.

Right, you are.

You grow excited as you gently untangle Namjoon from you and take Seokjin's hand. The two of you giggle as both Taehyung and Namjoon whine for someone to hold in their arms, finding the both of you gone so they reach for one another instead. "Let's go," the God of Stars whispers in your ears and the two of you run off hand in hand as if you are on a little adventure.

You remember the familiar walls into some place you had never actually gone before. The castle is huge after all, but it all comes to you as you look back on the memories that they had shared with you, watching and growing excited as Seokjin himself cannot wait to show you his own room that is filled with stars. You anticipate this moment most of all, knowing exactly where you will go yet also understanding that seeing it in person will be so much more incredible just as you have seen all the other rooms.

He comes to a grand set of golden doors that is designed with wreaths and vines with a star right in the center. "Ready?" He asks and you nod eagerly.

When Seokjin holds a palm between the two doors, it isn't long before it glows brightly and magically opens all on its own. You are met by a portal just on the other side and squeeze the Star God his hand to tell him that you cannot believe you are finally getting to see this. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and the two of you walk right into the portal that transports you onto a platform with the galaxy all around you.

Your heart beats rapidly at the sight of the stars, constellations amongst constellations, stars connecting one another, milky ways, and everything else you do not know the exact names to. Seokjin allows you to run towards the balcony, your body lurching forward as you hold onto the white railing and look down. The small island you are on hovers in the galaxy where the night surrounds it all as if you are floating in the universe.

The Gods only surprises you more and more no matter how much you have seen in their memories.

"This is so beautiful!" You breathe as you close your eyes for a moment to take it all in. "I cannot believe I am soulmates to not just one but seven Gods who holds so much power and have the privilege to see all of your worlds."

Seokjin smile when he walks up to you with a hand rounding your back protectively so that you do not fall from the small island. "We are the most lucky of them all to be able to share our worlds with you." He listens to the beat of your heart as it flutters and loves the way you lean back to curl up along his side. It is still a wonder how he was able to be fated with seven; six Gods and a beautiful mortal. No matter how the world may see it, the God of Stars understands more than anyone that names that have been written in the stars will never fall out of place.

He loves you so much just as he loves the six Gods and when he feels that you've heard his thoughts and feel the heat of your body rising, Seokjin lets you hide your face against his chest, a chuckle escaping him because he knows you must be blushing red. Oh how sweet their little mortal is with a gentle heart that is the most purest of them all.

He watches you from afar, the sight of you in a new day under the bright sun that has become his whole life. The Sun God does not know how such beauty can exist. He has seen it in through the other Gods, always feeling such blessing falling upon him from the first moments he had first met them and even now as he stands years after, he still falls hard for the beauty that befalls each of his soulmates.

And now it is your turn, once just a mortal who now has immortality given by the wisteria. He watches you with a fond gaze as you look out the balcony that leads down to the garden unlike the one in your shared room. You have no idea he is there, your beauty only stunning him further. It almost looks as if you are glowing under the Sun, whom, he knows, has also become fond of you. He has her to thank, for leading him to your mountain, for letting them finally meet you. She has been through your worst days, watched you time and time again as you grew into the person you have become, hoping to give you as much light as she can.

He has read the Sun's thoughts, how she always felt guilty for not being able to give you warmth, but Hoseok knows not to blame her and he knows you would never as well. That is how kind he knows you are, a heart made of gold, and he knows that from now on, the Sun will always watch over you and protect you from anything that will ever dare to do you harm. He smiles graciously at her before returning his gaze to look upon you again.

"My love?"

You jump slightly at his voice but immediately relax when you know that it is Hoseok. You look away from the view to bless him with a sweet smile and he finds his heart fluttering. Oh how Hoseok loves being in love.

"Hello, Hoseok."

He smiles gently when you walk up to him and lean against his soft touches when he holds your face. You are happy right now, so happy, and it makes him proud of how far you have come. "Do you sometimes miss the cold, sweet Y/N?" He asks you, knowing that your whole life you have been surrounded by the winter cold.

You giggle at his question and allows his heart to burst. "Our tribe has always wanted to meet Spring," you tell him as you let him look back on your memories. Your village always speaks of the beautiful season, how they wish that even if it will last just one day, they would take it in a heartbeat. The young children will dream about it, the young adults complaining about how tired they are of the cold, the elderlies knowing they will see it one day when they lay on their death beds.

"And you?" He asks.

"I am happy things are the way they are," you tell him and he sees how you think of your first meeting with them, how frightened you had been at first, but also how relieved you were to find out you would not die that day but to live on and on. "I am so, so happy. After all, I met Spring the moment we met."

He wants to hide the fact that he wishes to kiss you but how can the Sun God ever hide anything from his soulmate? Not especially when the two of you are touching and you both can hear each other's very thoughts. So he slides his hand away from yours, clearing his throat a little awkwardly as he looks away, not before noticing the little blush that has made it onto your cheeks. He knows you are not ready yet and knows it is not the time just yet, understanding that you need a little more time. He will be ready when you are, when you can give yourself to them, not when he wishes for it to just happen.

Because Hoseok is a gentleman. He will not force something upon you and let you know his little wishes to grow closer to you because he does not want you to think that you must do something if he so wishes. He is still a powerful God, knowing fully well how you see yourself below his level and may sometimes feel self conscious because they are so high and mighty. He doesn't want you to feel as if you are obligated to reciprocate his wishes so he lets out a sigh.

"Forgive me, little one, I did not mean-"

You take his hand again to rest his palm right against your cheek and his eyes widen at the blush on your face and the understanding of what it is you are too shy to speak aloud of, feelings hidden inside, something only he and the rest can read.

You wish to kiss him as well, to feel his soft lips against yours, to understand what it is like to kiss for the first time, to kiss a God.

"My love," he worries, "you do not have to-"

"I understand, Hoseok," you've read his worries but still you are determined to do this, to let him know that it is not because he wishes to kiss you but the fact that you want this all on your own. You wish to kiss him. "Please?" You ask and he does not know how anyone can say no to those precious eyes of yours that looks up at him, reflecting that of a puppy.

He feels a slight shift in you and realizes right, you are not fond of the animal. "Forgive me." You shake your head in response to him, smiling to let him understand that you know he means well.

So the God of Sun beams softly. You are ready for him when he holds you with both hands, heart drumming hard against your chest with rosy cheeks adorning your face to let him know that you are also nervous. Nervous but excited. He leans in to rest his forehead against yours, breaths gently grazing against one another, and you close your eyes. He watches you through a hooded gaze before his eyes flutter shut the instant his lips meet yours in a gentle, gentle kiss.

Your lips are softer than what he has imagined them to be, softer and sweeter than any dreams that have invaded his mind. You sigh against his lips and he holds you a little more firm, the euphoric feeling both bursting within your bodies. Hoseok is used to this feeling as he is reminded of the countless times he has kissed his other soulmates.

But for you this is your first time, your first kiss, and the first time kissing another who was born to be yours from the beginning of time. Your head spins and when he pulls away, you are standing almost limping against his hold, feeling so breathless as you try to catch your breath.

"I should have gone easy on you," he worries but you shake your head, cheeks still caught aflame as you look up at him with glistening lips. You liked it, you tell him from your thoughts as you tiptoe up to press a little peck on his cheek. Hoseok chuckles as he feels his stomach bursting with butterflies.

But as much as he wants to swoop you up and carry you to the bedroom, his eyes catches the Sun behind you and frowns. He hasn't gotten more time to spend with you and when you hear his thoughts, you let him go gently. But he knows you are feeling a little sad knowing he has to leave right now so Hoseok gives you a small smile with a hand stroking your cheek. "I will be back in no time, alright?" He promises. Your cheeks never cools down, making him chuckle when you nod at him shyly. "Wait for me."

"Mmn."

When he disappears to transport himself elsewhere, your thoughts are in shambles as you walk back slowly to the bedroom. It takes a while with how slow you are going as you try not to think back on the kiss but how can you not?

Once you make it into the room again, the door closes behind you as you lean your back into it, eyes still widened, cheeks still red, and a finger comes up to press against your lips. You kissed him, you kissed Hoseok. Well, he kissed you but same thing. He gave you the first kiss you had once dreamt of, never knowing exactly whether you would ever receive such a delicate touch and now here you are in a palace made for your Gods, a life for you to live in forever.

"Love?"

You gasp at the sound, not realizing someone was in the bedroom but when you look up, it isn't just the God of Knowledge. Yoongi has joined him on the bed as well and you blush some more, embarrassed for the fact that they have seen you thinking back on your kiss with Hoseok.

You don't know what to do as they look at you quizzically and knowing how bad it will be if they were to stand up and come your way. Ever since you've met them you never minded being able to share thoughts with just simple touches, but now? Now you really understand how intimate this soulmate thing really is and you aren't sure whether it is a good thing at this moment.

"Are you alright?" The God of Music calls and you are quick to shake your head vehemently to rid of the thoughts.

"Y-yeah." If your face doesn't give it away then it would be the shaking of your voice. Gosh you wish you could easily hide your feelings without someone being able to read it so easily with how it is written on your face. When you look up at them, your eyes instantly falls to their lips and you don't know how you will ever survive this.

Perhaps it would be easier if Hoseok was here to explain things, perhaps then you wouldn't find yourself so pressed to the doors and shrink back timidly as Namjoon and Yoongi leave the bed to walk up to you.

"Do you have a fever?" Namjoon frowns and his hand goes to fall against your forehead before you can stop him.

Oh crap.

"Oh." His eyes dilates when the touch allows him to read your thoughts and Namjoon sees the vision of you and Hoseok kissing just moments ago. Yoongi watches the two of you in confusion, how the corner of Namjoon's lips begin to curl and the way your face refuses to cool. So he touches your face out of curiosity and chuckles when he understands.

"Why are you embarrassed, hm?" The God of Music queries. "We are lovers, after all, kissing is just a sign of declaration."

Oh how you wish someone could just bury you alive. But of course the Gods were never going to allow that, but they understand what you mean. "I-It isn't just that," you say and when your thoughts are given to them, the two of them grins.

"Ah," says the God of Knowledge, "you wish to kiss us as well."

He didn't have to say that out loud.

They chuckle amusingly before Yoongi falls a little more serious as he brush your hair to the side. "My love," he calls, "you have no need to shy away. We are lovers now, soulmates, and if there is anything that you wish to do, it is alright for you to think such thoughts. Sleep with us, bathe with us, kissing us." You wonder how he has such bravery to say such things but is reminded all over again that they've done it all, done everything together. Images of them fill your memories and it makes your heart drum louder against your chest.

"I.." you trail off, eyes falling away from his out of embarrassment, "I-I know."

"Will you look at me?" He asks of you. You hesitate, of course you do, but Yoongi remains patient as he waits for your head to lift up and finally meet his gaze again. When you do just that, he gives you his precious gummy smile. "Look at you," the Music God praises, "I am so proud of you, dear one." He leans down to press a kiss on your cheeks, lifts his head a bit to kiss you on the forehead before his lips trail down, following the line between your brows and down to the tip of your nose.

"It's alright," Namjoon coaxes as he falls at your side, peppering soft kissing upon your shoulder.

You do not mind it so they go further. Namjoon continues his ministrations while Yoongi's lips hover above yours. When you give no refusal, he captures your lips and your heart grows rapidly against your chest. Soft lips nibble upon yours with gently wet sounds as he changes the angle and your mind becomes so hazy. Your fingers cling onto his royal robe, clutching it tightly as a small whimper falls from your lips.

When Yoongi falls away, Namjoon replaces his position. Your heart swoons, tummy filled with dancing butterflies all around, with thoughts filled with just them and them alone. His lips are sweet and gentle against yours, pressing upon them in a manner that has your head spinning all over again.

The moment they both finally release you, you fall against Namjoon's chest who holds you up because you have no strength to do so. One day you will get used to this strong burst of emotions, to the soulmate bond, but right now your eyes droop as you lean against Namjoon's hold who walks to the bed to lay you down gently. "It's okay," he whispers to you when Yoongi falls to your other side. They hold you gently, arms wrapped around your body. "Sleep now, my sweet dove."

You love them and they hear it but you want to say it aloud. Yet your sleepy brain does not let you utter a sound, too tired to even open your lips to mouth it. But they know and that is all you need for now.

You can tell them tomorrow.

"Jin?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you...know?"

He doesn't have to read your mind to know what you mean by that. All the Star God has to do is look at the blooming pink rose adorning your cheeks to understand it all. He chuckles at the pretty sight and nods. "Of course."

Right, of course, meaning that the other Gods know as well. You avoid his eyes for your head to point towards the floor, fingers playing with one another as you gulp, trying to pick up the courage to ask him something else. Seokjin remains patient from where he stands, watching the stars as he always does, watching over everything. You aren't even sure if it is right to bother him with this but he has told you plenty of times that you are never a bother to him. If you wish to ask him things, he only encourages you to speak up.

"Why does..why does the soulmate bond, um..." you try to find the right words. Perhaps he will understand better if he touches you but you feel you are already bothering him enough. "Why does it feel..um...overwhelming?" Is that the right word? "Is it for the reason that we are made of eight souls and not two?"

The God of Stars hum. "That is part of it, yes," he tells you. "Soulmate bonds are very powerful, my sweet, so it only grows stronger when it is declared through intimacy. When there is more than one partner, the bond is even stronger than that of two souls because this is not common amongst lovers to love more than one, especially being able to share that love equally. The world happens for a reason, many grows jealous for our love, many despise us for how strong this bond makes us. And because of how powerful it makes us, there is a little drawback to how much energy it can give."

"That's why...that's why..-" you clear your throat and he grins at how shy you can be just saying the word, "that's why, kissing..u-um...that's why it makes me so tired?"

He chuckles. "Precisely."

"Oh." You frown slightly. "I can't imagine how it will be when we—" You gasp, catching yourself almost immediately as you fold your hands over your mouth and Seokjin turns his gaze from the stars to look at you with amusement. There is no mockery in his gaze, however, just pure fondness that makes your heart skip a beat because even though he does not say it and even though you are not reading his mind, his gaze alone lets you know that he truly loves you.

You cannot believe you have been so blessed to be given these Gods as your soulmates. Everyone dreams of a love such as this, to have another watching them with pure fondness and amazement, with a pure love. For them to feel safe and protected. For them to know where home lies the second they meet eyes with their fated ones.

Your God walks on over to you with slow steps, eyes never leaving yours as you look up to him when he holds a hand up to stroke your soft cheeks. "You will be alright when that happens," he whispers.

You don't know how he can say that so casually but then again, you aren't his first time and you aren't the only soulmate he has. There are six more, six wonderful Gods who loves you just as much as they love one another.

"Will I?"

Seokjin nods, humming. "We will take care of you, my love. Will you trust us when the time comes?"

To make love. Gosh you cannot think about it without being a blushing mess so you stumble back from his touch, embarrassed to let him read your thoughts because with him being so close to you, it only makes things more dangerous for the good of your heart. It beats rapidly against your chest and you are quick to turn, knowing you cannot look at him straight in the eyes when you are like this. One day you will have to come face this bravely but one day is not here yet and you still cannot even speak right with just the word kiss.

So you awkwardly clear your throat as he watches you nod from the back. "Y-yes," you stutter, "I will trust you then. But..but, um...I-I'm already a bother so you..you should, should get back to your stars. Goodbye."

You can hear him letting out a soft chuckle when you run back into the portal to transport back to the castle.

"Ah, there you are."

You turn at the voice with a hand pressed onto the floor and a head looking over your shoulder to find the God of Ocean and Hearth walking into the room of the wisteria. You gift them a smile as they walk closer, wondering why they have been looking for you.

"There is a banquet tomorrow evening, will you join us to meet the other Gods and Goddesses?" Jungkook asks and your eyes widen a little at the invitation.

"A banquet?" You echo.

He hums. "Everyone knows we have found our last soulmate and are very intrigued on why we have been keeping you hidden in the palace."

"There have been a few banquets prior to your arrival here but we know you hadn't felt too comfortable leaving the grounds just yet," Taehyung says. "And besides, we wanted you to get used to this life first and get used to us. Gods can be quite invading and we were too protective of you to just let you go while you had yet to know of everything."

You giggle softly at the God of Ocean's words. "You were afraid of me wanting to live elsewhere and not here with you?" You interpret and they pout cutely when you caught them. You shake your head lightly as you grin. "That will never happen. You are the ones who saved me after all. Soulmates or nor, I would have stayed with you."

"Well that's relieving," Jungkook chuckles as he scratch the back of his head. "So will you join us? We have no need to go if you are not comfortable, we can just stay here if you'd like."

You shake your head again. "I would love to go."

Their faces brightens with soft smiles before the God of Ocean takes a hand out to offer to you. "Supper is served," he says. You reach out to take his hand but stop in midair as you realize what that means, suddenly retracing sheepishly because right now you cannot afford any of them to hear your thoughts just yet. It is all over the place and you absolutely cannot let Taehyung hear this. His smile falters when he puts his hand back at his side at your rejection and you are quick to jump onto your feet.

"I-I did not mean it in that way, I promise!" You declare. "I just...um..-"

"I understand," he tells you otherwise with a small smile that does not hide his moment of hurt. "It's okay, little one. Come on, the rest are waiting."

As you follow them from behind, your hands tug at your dress uncomfortably, suddenly feeling bad for letting him misunderstand you in this way. Taehyung thinks you've rejected him and when Jungkook shoots you a small smile just the same, you know you've messed up. After all, they know you've kissed three of their hyungs and maybe, perhaps, very likely, they were hoping you were ready to kiss them as well.

But now you've only made things worse because you wouldn't allow them to read your thoughts that is filled with everything about them, just them. You can't just reach for his hand to make him feel better because then he will be able to read your thoughts and right now you cannot let him do so. Not yet.

Oh how you wish you were braver.

Dinner goes smoothly...you think. But it is when you are left alone to your thoughts in the bath do you not feel so great again.

It isn't right for you to be so silent when they have declared their love to you plentifully. You know you've told Namjoon and Yoongi but that was all in your head. You haven't said it aloud and the rest of them haven't heard it said to them yet. So perhaps that is why Taehyung and Jungkook had been a little more hurt by your rejection, believing you love only two of the Gods and not everyone.

But that is so untrue yet you aren't sure how to do it, if you are brave enough to do it. But then again, you ask yourself why aren't you brave enough? They have declared their love for you, showed you how much they care, always looking out for you and doing what is best to keep you safe and warm. What is it that you have to be frightened of? They love you and you love them and you know that soulmates written under the stars shall never break apart even through death.

So why are you not brave enough? Why must you keep silent and hurt them further? Making them believe you love some of them more than the rest?

It is untrue and you have to let them know, you have to let them understand. But as much as you want to hide with the fact that they can easily read your thoughts to understand it all, even though you know that will be so much easier, you also know that it will be best to say it aloud first, to declare it aloud before you let them see into your heart. You have to tell them first before you let your heart tell them the details of it.

When you step out of the bath and wrap yourself in a white robe, your eyes fall at the evening robe that hangs on a hook and the long mirror that lets you see yourself. You watch those eyes looking back at you, fingers falling upon your wet hair, tracing the outline of your face, your brows, your eyes, nose and lips.

And it makes you wonder why they love you.

They are Gods, such powerful Gods, possibly the most powerful Gods to ever exist all due to the soulmate bonds that keeps them connected. Your hand strokes your soft cheeks, lips staying pressed together with brows that creases just a bit. You are loved by seven Gods and here you are, now an immortal yourself, still trying to get the courage to speak your heart aloud.

It should not be this hard, right?

Maybe if you hadn't been forced to grow up so alone then perhaps things could have gone a lot easier. But as Seokjin had said before, the world happens for a reason. Your tribe being attacked, you being left to live alone for ten years, saved by these precious seven souls, and now loved by them all all because you are you. A kind, sweet soul who cares so much about the world.

Perhaps you indeed deserve such a love, perhaps you indeed deserved to live on.

Their love lets you reflect on everything and the longer you look at yourself, you begin to see tears brimming along your waterline as your heart cries for how much they have given you. They've showed you that you deserve anything and everything and now you must pick up the courage to let them know that you appreciate everything and has fallen so hard. You know it must not be easy for them either but they've always been so strong for you, keeping you safe, loving you when you had yet to accept the new life and know that you deserve such wonderful things.

They've done so much for you and you know you cannot let them think that one is more than the other. You have to let them know.

"Y/N?" You turn at the call of Jimin's concerning voice and gasp at the sudden intrusion.

Oh.

They've heard you crying and now here they are again, always trying to make sure that you are alright. Knowing this, more tears well up and falls away before you can stop them, making your heart ache a little more. Their brows knit together, eyes filled with worry at the sight and they try rushing to you but you step back with hands held up to stop them. "W-wait!" You cannot allow them to touch you.

Not yet. Not just yet.

Questions fall upon their faces and you close your eyes, letting a few tears fall freely, taking in a deep breath before releasing it shakily. When you open your eyes again, your lips curl into a soft, soft smile that confuses them even more. They think that perhaps you are trying to let them go, a pain shooting at their hearts, but when you open your mouth to speak, the tightness in their chest releases.

"I love you," you say. "I love you all so much and I just wanted to thank you," you wipe a tear away though more falls and you sniff, "for loving me while I was still at a loss and couldn't understand why." The lump in your throat tries to hinder you from speaking but you swallow it to push through. "I love you for all that you've done, being patient with me, keeping me safe, always thinking of me and doing all that is best for me. I am still so, so shy, and I'm not sure if I will ever find the courage to say these things out aloud again but just know, just know that as you are holding me and reading my thoughts, know that I will always be wishing to say everything out aloud.

"I'm sorry for not being able to say this before. I'm so, so sorry if I ever caused any misinformation to let you to believe I was rejecting you by not allowing you to touch me. Truth is I was just afraid to let my heart speak before I could do it myself. Because I know that the heart understands the inner conflicted feelings before I myself can say anything out loud. And I was scared because I didn't know whether I truly deserve this or not, whether I truly deserve your love. But I understand. I understand that soulmates that have been written in the stars shall never fall, I understand that, that our love is meant to be. I'm so sorry I've just realized it. I'm sorry."

"Oh, love." Jimin wipes his own tears away as they come to surround you. "My sweet one, you have no need to apologize."

"You've just been so patient and, and I..-"

"We know," Yoongi promises. "We know so hush, it's okay. You're alright now."

Jungkook cradles your head as Taehyung brushes your tears away. Seokjin holds your face and you feel a rush of the wind at your sides, drying your hair and replacing your bathrobe with the evening gown.

"We are so proud of you," Namjoon vows. "It is never easy to speak your feelings aloud but it's okay now. We understand, dear one, we know."

"I love you," you declare again, sniffling, and they smile, smile so softly.

"Oh, love. We love you so, so much. We love you more than the universe itself."

When they hear the familiar footsteps of the last soulmate to meet them by the entrance door of the castle, their heads turn your way for the world to slow down and fall away, nothing else falling into their line of vision except you as you walk down gracefully with a sheepish smile their way.

The dress you have on is a soft color in golden champagne, flowing freely down to the floor as it drags when you walk, decorated with shimmering golden vines that curls all around the dress. Soft pink roses connect together at the waist of your dress and falls atop your shoulder where the lace cape drags down your back. You also have on a beautiful crown designed in pink florals and golden butterflies, matching all that you are wearing. They do not know how you can impress them even further and show that your beauty comes different with certain occasions; when you wake up, the moment after you bathe, the night before you head to sleep, your casual dresses when you walk around the castle, and now here for a banquet.

You are ethereal, more beautiful than anyone they have seen before and their hearts beats rapidly just knowing that you are theirs.

Everything about you is beautiful and they already know for sure how some of the Goddesses will grow jealous of this beauty of yours once they set eyes on you, and how the other Gods may try to catch your attention. They shake their heads at the images, mentally scoffing and rolling their eyes because you are theirs, you belong to them just as they belong to you.

"Wow," your eyes dilate at the sight of them and a little soft pink reaches your cheeks before you avert your gaze to the floor shyly. "You are handsome," you tell them and their hearts swoon.

"And you are more beautiful than Spring itself," Jimin says as he holds your chin for you to look up. You smile sheepishly at him and he chuckles, taking your hand into his. "Are you ready?"

When you arrive at the banquet, you stick to their sides, never releasing your hands that holds onto Jimin's arm because everything becomes unfamiliar and it is not the same garden you are used to back at the palace.

This one is large and gorgeous but it can never compare to the one the God of Spring has made on his own. Pretty flowers round the stoned paths in roses, pansies, lilies, and many more. The lampposts that station around the garden are wrapped in green vines that curls all the way to the tip, and pretty fairy lights shine everyone's paths. You look around like a curious little kitten, blinking surprised at all that surrounds you. The realm of the immortals is definitely more beautiful than Earth can ever be.

Ah, but then again, you've only been in one place and that would be your mountain and the snowy grounds that surrounds it. Yet you are sure Earth is still less beautiful.

Beside you, Jimin laughs softly as he's read your thoughts and you are reminded all over again that soulmates are given such ability, making you giggle yourself.

"So this must be your last soulmate." You shrink into Jimin's hold as you are met by a Goddess who smiles so beautifully your way. She is gorgeous and you find yourself shying away at her stare. "Oh she is so cute," the Goddess practically squeal when she coos, making your cheeks catch aflame and allowing your Gods to chuckle.

"She is, isn't she?" Hoseok beams proudly as he pets your head.

"Tell me, how in the world did you all manage to find yourselves another beauty?"

Catching the sight of the familiar seven Gods, more comes on by upon hearing the Goddess going on about you, curiosity filling their minds and you shrink further back at the sudden attention. Many comments upon your pure, gentle soul who looks too cute and beautiful for anything and it makes you even more flustered by everyone. Eventually (and thankfully) the crowd falls away when your Gods ask them to give you space and not horde around you. They do not say it allowed but you can feel their protective selves becoming more visible and you giggle, allowing Taehyung to playfully pinch your nose because he is not particularly fond of you calling them cute when they feel such way.

You are theirs after all, and no one should continue looking at you for much longer than a few minutes. You should be only for their eyes to see especially when you look particularly beautiful tonight. Perhaps you like this side to them, and when they hear your thoughts, it is your turn to huff and shy away all over again, making them laugh aloud.

After moments of walking around to personally meet a few Gods and Goddesses along your soulmates' sides, you are left alone to freely explore on your own. The curious side to you walks around to make little conversations with a few immortals on your own though you are still a little shy when it comes to talking to strangers.

You walk around the maze garden that falls a bit deserted while everyone mingles around the large center. You follow the fireflies that blinks like little flashlights, feet bouncing lightly as it trails away from the brightness of the garden banquet. Your dress trails behind you as you stray away from the center, running from right to left with just the fireflies as your source of light, getting yourself lost in the maze. But you know that you will be alright. After all, if your Gods need you, they can easily find you with no difficulties.

"Hello there."

Your breath hitches, jumping at the sudden sound because you hadn't expected anyone else to stray from the garden and walk in the maze. When you turn to the source of the voice, it is the sight of a God you think you have seen before while reading some of Namjoon's books. It must be the God of the Underworld, Hades. He watches you with a sly smile that falls lopsided against his lips, body leaned against a hedge before standing straight to approach you with light steps.

"I have never seen you before," he says, voice deep as a brow raises before snapping his fingers as if he's just realized something. "You must be their last soulmate then. Y/N."

It is a bit surprising even the God of the Underworld knows of you but you decide to pay it no mind, only nodding as you hope your voice does not come out too cowardly. "Yes, I am."

It doesn't work because Hades chuckles knowingly. "You have no need to fear me," he tells you but it isn't really him you become so frightful of. No, your eyes only dilates as your breath is caught up in your throat when you watch in horror at the sight of the animal that walks up from behind him. Hades' brows furrow as he falls at a loss at your trembling figure and the way your body turns from him, hands clasped around your lips while your eyes shut tight.

Cerberus. Three headed dog.

You are too frightened to scream. One because you do not wish to disturb the peacefulness of the evening banquet and two because you can't. Tears brim along your eyes while you try to hide the whimper that begins to fall from your lips behind your hands. But it doesn't really help. Hades can hear it muffled out of you.

He has no idea what you are frightened of. Surely he isn't that scary, is he? "Is something the matter?"

"P...please get it...g-get it..a..away."

A laugh falls from him as he realizes what is happening. "You're afraid of dogs? I knew mortals were quite weak but I had no idea they were this weak."

Someone wraps their arms around you, pulling you in close to their chest and you don't have to look up to know who it must be just by their scent and the touch alone. "Leave, Hades," the God of Stars command in a grave voice as Jungkook silently tells you that all will be alright, that they are here now and you have nothing to be afraid of anymore. But you can still feel the presence of the dog and it only reminds you of the cruel memories that has terrorized you plenty of times. Jungkook understands, of course he does, because no matter how connected you are with the Gods, the God of Hearth shares something a little deeper as his hearth comes from Earth.

So a hand comes behind your head as the other remains on your back, his touches whispering soft gentle words to soothe your pain and comfort you through the memories.

"This is a banquet, is it not?" You hear Hades saying and through the feeling of Jungkook's protective and caring self, anger burns his body so immensely you are surprised this is him. You're used to your Gods being so kind and gentle, never have you actually ever witnessed their angry sides.

"I will not repeat myself, Hades." You do not have to touch Namjoon to understand his anger as well. They are all angry as you hear growls from the back of their throats all hinted towards Hades who does not fall back even when asked to. The pride within him restricts him from doing as he is told even though the God of the Underworld knows he cannot go up against the seven Gods who are the most powerful especially when together. Your Gods are fuming with wrath, not fond of anyone threatening their soulmate's safety which in this case would be you and you can hear the thoughts of Jungkook as he holds you, knowing he will burn the whole garden down if it means Hades will leave.

But their anger towards the God of the Underworld elicits growling from his loyal dog who does not like anyone trying to go up against his Lord and it makes you whimper, body shrinking more towards Jungkook who hears your thoughts.

You don't care about Hades or anything anymore, you just wish to go home. So he lets out a sigh though he is still riled with anger and turns to the God of Knowledge. "Let's go, Namjoon."

You feel their eyes turning to you at those words before sighs leave their own lips and you are brought back not a moment too soon.

"We're home now, little one. You're alright now."

But you don't leave Jungkook's arms, still so, so afraid because the horrible memories of that Winter day will not go away despite Cerberus now nowhere to be seen. His eyes fall with pain and worry as he holds you, meeting the Gods with an understanding gaze and just letting you cry it all out. Your heart hurts, body still trembling, and when you feel you cannot hold your body up for much longer, Jungkook picks you up to walk on over to the bed and have you sitting right on his lap.

"Shh, it's okay, my love, it's okay." He continues whispering soft words to your ears, rocking your body gently against him while pressing soft kisses upon your head. The others come to surround you, hands holding yours, pressing kisses upon your shoulders while you sob and sob.

"You're okay, you're alright. Everything will be alright. We're right here. We'll always be here."

"..Scary..." You whimper.

"I know, I know. We'll make it all okay again, alright? You have no need to be afraid anymore."

"We'll always be here. We'll protect you from all that threatens to harm you."

"You're our precious mate and we will never let anything happen to you again."

"We'll make it better."

You awake at the feeling of gentle fingertips running along your face, stroking it with soft touches, and small incoherent whispers beside you. They fall into a comfortable silence when they feel your mind drifting out of unconsciousness. Once your eyes finally releases from the haze, you see both the God of Ocean and Spring looking down at you as they prop themselves up against their elbows.

"Good morning," Taehyung greets with a gentle smile.

"We are here, love," Jimin says when your mind is reminded of the nightmare you had before, blurring your vision and feeling so thankful that they are here right now. The God of Spring leans down to press a soft kiss to your head and almost instantly you feel your tense body relaxing once more, mind now clear of anything that would harm you.

"Thank you," you whisper, voice still trying to adjust to the waking world. He nods at you and you feel another kiss placed upon your temple. Taehyung brushes away the tear that fell when you blinked and kiss the fingertip that held onto the salty water droplet.

"Feeling better?" You nod and he smiles, relieved. Your brows knit just slightly when you realize no one else is in bed because you do not feel anymore presence to fill up the empty spaces. Usually when you have woken, all of your Gods would still be around before breakfast is served and they'll run off to their own duties. The God of Ocean hears your thoughts and returns to stroking your soft cheek. "You slept in this morning, my love. It is almost noon," he explains. "We have agreed on two of us staying here until you awake so that you would not have to be greeted by the emptiness of the room."

"Oh," you frown. "I'm sorry."

Jimin shakes his head. "No need, my little flower, you had a rough night after all. Now come," he helps you sit up as Taehyung uses his powers to wheel a tray of food forward, "you must be hungry."

There are plates of fresh toast and sweet biscuits along with two eggs, a cup of milk, and a bowl of sliced fruits set onto the tray that is placed onto your lap. Your two Gods do not allow you to use your energy as they feed you on their own, letting you bite slowly and taking your sweet time. It comes to no surprise that the food is delicious because everything you you've had will always be the best. This is the house of Gods after all, and they will have nothing fall below standard.

When you grow full, they let you run off to the bathroom to get ready for the new day though help you with brushing your hair. You sit in between them on the bed as Taehyung runs a brush through your soft hair and face Jimin who plays with the soft delicate touches of your fingers. You see his subtle smile when the God of Spring stares at them, his thoughts echoing to you with nothing kept a secret. It is odd to him how small you are, hands a tinier size than his despite how small his is compared to the rest of the Gods and especially the one behind you who has the largest of them all.

Everyone's hands engulfs his and yours and he is proud to be able to engulf your own. You giggle as his thoughts passes onto you and Jimin looks up, grinning sweetly. "Little rose, I have heard the mortals spreading myths of how the size of how hands reflects the size of our hearts but I say that is preposterous."

Taehyung laughs. "I say the myth is fair."

"Fair?" Jimin scoffs. "That's only because your hands are ginormous."

"And so is my heart," he hums.

"Maybe so but look at us," the God of Spring clasp your hands together and holds it up for the God of Ocean to see, "our hands may be small but our hearts are much bigger than it."

"Hmm...perhaps you're right."

"Perhaps?" Jimin echoes, scoffing again and this time with huff. "My heart is big and you know it."

Taehyung shakes with a choral of laughter before he releases the brush to sit it on the soft mattress and reaches for Jimin's hands that had fallen out of yours. "Love, you know I was only playing." With you in between, the God of Ocean pulls Jimin forward just slightly so that when he leans in, his lips can meet Jimin's cheek.

"You missed." The God of Spring still feigns to be upset so Taehyung chuckles at his lover, leaning in again to capture Jimin's lips.

Your heart skips a beat and perhaps they hear it, perhaps they feel it because their kiss does not last long and now their heads are turned your way. You grow petals pink after being caught and the two of them looks at one another with a sly grin curling at their lips before they return the attention on you again. You swallow, heart beating hard against your chest as your eyes fall away shakily because you know they can hear your thoughts.

"Hmm..does the little one want a kiss too?"

You shrink at the question, feeling your face heating up even more because they know, they can hear your thoughts yet Jimin asks that.

"I want to hear you, little one," the God explains. "After all, you said it yourself, did you not? Your heart understands what you want before you can try to say anything out loud."

Taehyung hums. "And that whatever is said in your heart, you want to say them all out loud but you are far too shy."

"Can we hear it, love?" He holds your chin and lifts it easily, lips curled upward to a side as he looks down at you and your heart only burns some more. His thumb delicately traces along your lips as Taehyung's fingers gathers your hair to put it a side so that your neck is exposed for him to softly graze against. Jimin leans in at your distracted mind filled of both him and the Ocean God, forehead resting against yours with his nose just centimeters away from yours, breath hitting you as he speaks. "Hm, love? Can you do us this little favor?" He smells like soft petals and peaches perfectly combined. "I want to hear your sweet voice."

You hesitate but you can never take your eyes off him no matter how bold Jimin's gaze is, feeling the need to just give him all that he wants. He grins knowingly at your thoughts, feeling his ego boosted and your eyes fall away shyly again. He pouts and you almost want to giggle at how desperate he is for your attention so you give it to him again, cheeks still flushed. "I..." You gulp, brows furrowed and not knowing whether you are brave enough but their touches encourages you on, telling you to go on, that they'll take care of you. So you let out a soft sigh. "Jimin.."

He's excited. "Hm?"

You look away for a brief moment before meeting his eyes again. "Can you..can you kiss me?"

Jimin's heart flutters as he grins brilliantly. Oh, what a sweet little soul, he thinks. "With pleasure."

When he captures your lips, it is so soft and delicate. Jimin's hand wraps around your waist as he pulls you in towards him closer as if you are not close enough, lips dancing with yours as he effortlessly takes the lead. Taehyung's fingers circles your neck and down your exposed collarbones and you are sent to heaven, an eternal bliss, a mind that is filled of them and just them. Jimin kisses you like you are a precious gem, like you are so fragile and he cannot bear to break you.

When his lips pull away, another hand comes to your face to turn you and your lips are captured by another, barely given any time to take a breather. "Mm...so sweet," Taehyung whispers against your lips and you feel Jimin's hands flicking your hair down back behind your neck again. He peppers kisses to your neck and you make a little sound into Taehyung's lips. It all feels so sweet and blissful but the familiar overwhelming feeling returns and your head spins.

When the God of Ocean leans away, he chuckles at the way your strength had left you and holds you up to have your body resting against his chest instead of falling back onto the mattress. "Dizzy?" Jimin observes after leaving your neck, his fingers coming up to brush your hair behind your ears. You nod weakly. "Don't worry love, the more these moments happen, the dizziness will no longer return and you'll come to embrace this overwhelming feeling."

"That's not fair, you already tired her out before I could get a chance." When another voice comes in, the three of you look up to find the God of Hearth near the doors as he tsks lightly, arms crossed against his chest while he pouts cutely.

Taehyung laughs. "You are to blame for not taking up the chance to remain here with our little love."

Jungkook huffs. "I had business down on Earth."

"You went to Earth?" Your brows raise, mouth forming into a little 'o.'

He nods as he walks forward to reach the bed. "I go there pretty often. The Earth needs my hearth after all, but I am usually disguised as a mortal."

"Where do you usually go?"

He sits in front of you while you're still using Taehyung for support and he takes a hand, smiling as he greets it with a kiss on the back. "The north and southern poles or anyplace near it." He pauses for a second before speaking again. "You know, I have not found any other hidden tribes who resides on mountains."

"We had a sister tribe," you tell him and he sees through your memories of the stories the elders would go on and go about back when you lived on the mountain. "I assume they were possibly raided as well and no one survived. Perhaps the snow buried their homes."

"Mortals can be quite cruel," Jimin sighs.

"But it's okay," Taehyung says as he plays with your hair, "Hoseok and Seokjin has condemned the murderers."

"Right."

"How are you feeling, my love?" Jungkook asks as he looks at you with some concern. He isn't just asking about the aftermath of the soulmate bond but of the night before as well, wanting to know if you really are alright again. They're still so protective of you, hating any pain and affliction to fall upon you and would do anything just to relieve you from them. You are reminded of that moment at the garden and your eyes fall to the hands that holds your own. "What is it?"

"You are all so sweet and kind," you say, squeezing his hand as you turn to look at Jimin and Taehyung before returning your gaze to the one before you, "and after last night, I know I would never want to get on your angry sides. It was scary."

They chuckle, knowing you mean well and Jungkook holds your palm up to press a kiss there. "You will never have to fear of our wrath pointing your way," the God of Hearth vows. "How can we ever get upset with you? You are our lovely little flower."

"The seven of us alone does not fight very often," Jimin says. "After all, we are soulmates, we're all soulmates, so we understand each other more than anything and anyone. There is no reason to hold secrets, no reason for misunderstandings to ignite."

You are reminded of that moment back at the wisteria, refusing to let Taehyung hold you and allowing him to look and feel hurt. The God takes your hands from Jungkook and presses a gentle kiss to your head after hearing your thoughts. "Moments like that can happen, though," he tells you and lets you see the memories of that time he and Yoongi almost went to bed upset and hurt. They of course resolved the problem in the end before anything could get worse. "As long as we communicate, love, there is no need for anyone to lose their temper."

"Okay."

He hum. "Okay?"

You nod as you look up at him with a loving gaze before it falls and you're looking back at Jungkook. The dizziness has gone away and your mind isn't so hazy in blindness anymore. You'll get used to this, you know you will. After all, kissing them is rewarding and quite lovely so you'd be glad to getting used to the strong soulmate bond. The God of Spring and Ocean chuckles knowingly at your thoughts, leaving Jungkook in question when you look down with a blooming blush because he isn't touching you.

The God of Hearth doesn't go on to touch you though, because he feels you will tell him if you want or place your own hands on his skin. The moment lasts a few long seconds more before you're letting out a sigh and deciding to be brave about it. You want to kiss the youngest one of the Gods so you will and you can feel Jimin and Taehyung both waiting with anticipation and excitement.

"Kook...?"

"Hm?"

"May I?" You ask. His brows furrow with confusion and he's about to reach up to touch you but you hold your palm up to stop him, causing him to blink but place his hand back onto his lap, respecting your wishes.

"Go on," he tells you though is unsure of what you mean.

You take a deep breath again, hearing the two Gods beside you silently cheering you on as you step up to your knees and watching Jungkook with an intense gaze. He waits, anticipating what will happen, when you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in to press a quick peck right on his lips.

His eyes widen at the sudden and unexpected kiss that was honestly way too quick to him to truly enjoy. So he chuckles at the way your cheeks roses even more because you are so shy and he's proud of you taking that courage to take the first step on telling him what you want without him needing to touch you. He hears your thoughts now, ones that whispers soft i love you's to him and Jungkook's eyes crinkle as he shows you that boyish smile. He puts his hands on both sides of your waist and pull you onto his lap, lips pecking right upon your own.

You're beet red and he laughs, pressing another quick kiss before he leans in again for it to last longer. His kisses are playful and sweet and it makes you chuckle out sweet giggles that echoes into the large room, sounding like music to their ears as it mixes with the smacking sounds of kisses and your Gods' soft laughs.

Your morning that day is filled with the soft ringing of laughter echoing into the room with the wind carrying it out the open windows that leads to the balcony.

The garden is even more beautiful than the one you had seen at the banquet, walking down a lone path under the starry night skies. You cannot sleep that night but your thoughts are filled with only pleasant thoughts. The purple blossoms that follows the path you walk on is divine, a type of flower you know must not exist on Earth with how ethereal it looks. It glows only at night, light sparkles glittering and falling out into the skies from the center of its petals. You close your eyes, welcoming the night breeze as it passes along your side, thankful for the fact that one of your soulmate is the God of Spring.

The stars above shines brightly, creating a blooming milky way that is entirely different from the view on Earth. How did you fall so lucky to be written under the stars with wonderful Gods whose hearts are made of gold? You are so lucky to be blessed with loving Gods who will not hesitate to do anything for you.

"It isn't fair, you know." You jump a little at the sound and turn to find the God of Stars standing a few feet away as he leans against a pillar with a slight frown.

"Jin," you sigh, greeting him with a smile before pouting at the sight of his furrowed brows. "What isn't fair?"

"I am the oldest," he says, making you even more confused. "Do you not believe that I should have been the first one, or one of the firsts, to claim your lips?"

Oh.

He sulks at the fact that you have kissed all the Gods saved for him, an underlying insecurity falling upon him though he hides it behind a pout and a playful tone. But you can understand your God of Stars without him needing to explain or you needing to touch him. Seokjin is a patient God, one who will never rush anything if you are not ready just as the rest, but you know that it must confuse him to come to know that you have already shared lips with the others.

"I'm sorry," you say sincerely as you come to walk towards him. Seokjin stands straight from the pillar and takes a small step back at your approach. You stop, frowning.

"No, my love," he tells you with a small smile that is all too painful. "You do not have to force yourself if you do not wish for it."

"Oh Seokjin," your heart falls for him. He worries for you, not wanting anything to be forced no matter how much he wants it because he is a gentleman. Seokjin is afraid, you can see it in his sad smile, and if these past months has taught you anything, it'd be that you have come to understand them a little better without having to feel. "I promise you I am not feeling forced to do anything," you say as you start walking again and falling silently relieved when he does not move this time. "I'm sorry, I hadn't meant for this to happen when I kissed them."

"No," he sighs, "I know you did not. You have no need to apologize, I just-"

You take his hand once you come close enough and let your face sweetly nuzzle against his palm. You let him know that you want this, you truly do, and that you aren't afraid of it anymore. Perhaps another step further is still further in the future but right now, as you're taking things step by step, you want this, you want to share kisses with them. With all of them.

"I want this," you say it aloud as you gaze up at him with a sincere gaze.

He falls silent for a moment, just watching you as if he is mesmerized, as if he is entranced, and it only makes your heart flutter because you can hear his thoughts. "Really?" He asks though he can feel you. You respond with a small nod. "Hm," he hums softly, thinking. You want to laugh at how he's deciding to play hard to get with this and roll your eyes.

"Do you want it?"

"Do I?"

"I'll give it to you."

"Will you?"

It is even more hilarious when the two of you can understand the confirmed feelings by the touches so you chuckle and he follows along to the amusement, echoing your gentle laugh. "But just know," you hold up a finger, "I am no expert just because I have kissed the six of you already."

He hums. "I know."

But he makes no move and it leaves you standing flustered. "You..y-you can't," you stutter, "you cannot expect me to make the first move?"

Seokjin shrugs. "You did it with Jungkook."

"But that was just a little-"

"No excuses, my dear." he tells you, pouting. "Do you not believe that you owe me a little something? Hm?"

You mirror his pout and let out a small sigh. "Alright," you decide and take a deep breath. You don't know how you will ever get used to this when just one little peck gets you so flustered but because Seokjin is still a bit upset, you know you cannot refuse his request. You have to do this for him. So you place your hands on his shoulders, mimicking the action you had done with Jungkook and close your eyes shut with feet tip toeing up because he is tall, and press a kiss right on his lips before letting out a little crying sound as your head buries against his chest out of embarrassment.

The God of Stars laughs. "It's not funny," you chide with a pout and can still feel the lingering sensation of his lips.

"My sweet galaxy, do you really believe that I will accept a little peck as a kiss?" You huff and leave his arms with flushed cheeks, your pout deepening. He grins at the way your eyes refuses to meet his, knowing the exact reasons why. But he understands so he lets out a sigh. "Alright, I'll let this one slide since I love you and you're my shy little star."

He backs you up against the pillar, taking your face into a hand and squishing your cheeks. You don't know how he can act in such a way that makes your heart skip a beat but also be so playful about it. So you let out a soft whine, cheeks puffed out with your lips turned into a duck because of the way he holds your face. "Seokjin~"

He laughs that cute laugh that only makes things worse for your heart and you huff again. "Alright, alright," he says, calming down. At least he's feeling better so you know you aren't exactly upset with him. Seokjin smirks at the thought though there is an underlying soft fondness in his gaze as he feels thankful for you, only reminded of how much he loves you. Seokjin pulls your face forward and leans in, pressing a soft kiss but leaving too fast just like you had done.

You're about to say something when he leans in again, this time slower and more sensual. The grip upon your face releases and is replaced by both hands that holds you in a gentle manner as he presses you up further against the pillar. Your heart skips a beat, beating rapidly against your chest at how skillful and sweet he is. Your mind retraces back to those memories that belongs to him, knowing the God of Stars has the most experience in such field. He's had experience even before meeting his soulmates but who can blame him? His face alone will make anyone drop to the floor and it makes you a bit at a loss on how you should feel. He's yours now, so you won't have to worry about anyone else, right?

"Focus on me, sweet one," the God of Stars whispers against your lips to let you take a little breather for just a split second before he's capturing your lips and heart again. "I'm yours, my dear," he vows and nibbles along your lower lip. "I'm yours."

Your thoughts are filled with nothing but him while your heart continues to race on and on into the starry night.

The God of Sun watches you from the doorway while you sit in a comfortable armchair near the center of the room with a piece of clothing on your lap, thread and needle in a hand as you sew through something white and fuzzy onto the golden fabric. He smiles at the sight of peace and serene, knowing how you like to keep yourself busy and use some time to do things you like.

Most days you will read in Namjoon's library, or walk around tending to the garden, or becoming friendly with their elements; the wisteria, the sun, the stars, and the fishes in the ocean. Today you are in your own element, sewing something that looks like something they have gotten for you. You like to redesign a few things if you can, giving your own touches along their spoiled gifts because it makes you feel closer to them. He smiles at the sight, loving all that belongs to you. Your heart and thoughts are the most gentle out of everything.

Thunder rolls outside, causing your head to perk up and look on over towards the opening balcony where the windows instantly falls closed on their own upon the sound of rain beginning to fall from the clouds. It has been cloudy this whole day so it wasn't a surprise to Hoseok that it's beginning to rain but you look a little surprised, eyes probably too focused inside to notice the weather.

But you don't mind the rain because anything aside from the constant winter you had been used to back on the mountain is beautiful. Sunny days are gorgeous, rainy days are pretty.

A gasp that falls from your lips leaves him to quickly revert his attention back on you and he sees the way you whine as you hold up your forefinger, whimpering. Hoseok is by your side in an instant as he surprises you by picking you up and moving you towards the sofa where he sits you on his lap, a hand coming up to hold your pricked finger and hold it to his lips. One kiss alone is enough to heal the pain and take the blood away.

"Hoseok.."

"Did you not tell me once that a seamstress must never fall distracted?" He reminds you as he brings his lips to greet you on the temple.

"It was the thunder's fault," you pout and he erupts with a laugh before another voice walks in.

"You cannot blame mother nature for your moment of recklessness," Taehyung says.

At the sight of the rest of your Gods arriving, your heart flutters with excitement and Hoseok chuckles knowingly. "I have a question," you say clapping your hands together.

Jungkook takes the seat you had sat in before, Taehyung, Seokjin, and Jimin sitting on the sofa directly from you and Hoseok, while Namjoon sits across Jungkook and Yoongi comes on to settle himself beside you and Hoseok. "What is it?" The God of Knowledge prompts.

"Does it ever snow here?"

Jungkook raises a brow. "That sounds like you want for it to happen."

You shrug lightly as your eyes fall back on the work in your lap, returning to pick up your needle to begin threading through again. "I was just thinking," you say with a soft smile, "I don't think the snow will bring back bad memories anymore. After all, I was born on a snowy day and grew up with it my whole life. I just want to be reminded of the good times back on that mountain, be reminded of everyone there."

They watch you with a soft gaze, fondness falling upon them as they smile because of how much you've grown. Yoongi brushes your hair to the side, a hand stroking your cheek in a gentle manner. "We're so proud of you, little one."

You look up, beaming.

"Well, anything can happen," Jimin tells you. "We'll just have to wait for December to come."

"I came here around January," you remember, confused. "Shouldn't it have snowed then?"

Hoseok props his chin up against your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. "You wanted to meet Spring, remember? So we had to make it happen, because our sweet soulmate could not take the cold anymore and we didn't want you to continue suffering." Your heart blossoms with a thousand heartbeats that escalates, fingers pausing on the needle as you look up at Hoseok. He hears your thought and squeezes your side. "When it comes to you, love, we will do all the impossible just to make you smile."

You fall silent for a moment and can feel the tears beginning to brim as you look through his thoughts. "You were going to make it Spring all year round?"

"Of course."

You have heard that Summer can grow very overheated, the sun becoming overwhelming from time to time that no mortal likes to leave the house just as Winter can get quite cold. But it's already been months, somewhere around July, and the heat has yet to come. This place is paradise because of them, being able to control the weather in however way they'd like, being able to make it Spring all year round just for you. Because you wanted to meet Spring. Because you liked Spring.

Your lips quiver as you drop your needle and turn to wrap your arms around the God of Sun. "Thank you," you whisper when the rest almost has a heart attack at your tears. It's soft, so much softer than the storm that falls outside. It doesn't scare you so you're fine, knowing the plants need their water from the clouds. And you know that no matter how quiet you may be, they hear you, they always hear you.

"Oh love," Hoseok sighs contently as the Gods come to surround the two of you.

They love you so much and everyday when you think you're already at the end, you end up falling deeper and deeper in love. Perhaps as the years passes on and on, the love will grow even more than it is at this moment. You are so blessed to have them in your life, to be saved by them, your soulmates. No other love will ever come to compare with theirs. "I'm so happy," you sniffle.

Yoongi sends you a gentle smile when you look up again to look at them all. His hands reaches out to cup your face, fingers brushing away the tears that have fallen. "We are too, my sweet muse." Namjoon hums softly in agreement while Jimin takes your little work to set it aside on the coffee table inside the circle of furniture so that the needle doesn't accidentally hurt you again.

"You may look pretty when you cry, my love, but we prefer your beautiful face when you smile instead," Taehyung says.

"Sorry," you giggle.

He beams, sighing. "There it is."

Seokjin takes a hand of yours. "We can make Winter return if you'd like. It will definitely not grow as cold as it was on the mountain, however, because we would never want you to freeze and see you in pain."

"Thank you." You squeeze his hand.

"I have another good news." You look on over at Jungkook with anticipation, head tilted just slightly to the side as you blink, wondering what he wants to say. He takes a second, pulling something out from his pocket then shows you his fist before opening it right in front of you. Your breath hitches at the sight, eyes widening and tearing up all over again when you catch sight of the nostalgic memory hidden on the object he holds out to you alone.

"My mother's bracelet..." you breathe when a tear falls and another comes. You had lost it one day traveling through the snow and because the strings were too frail to even hold together after you tried fixing it, it snapped and slipped right out of your wrist when you weren't paying attention. You tried to look for it when you realized it was no longer there but it had been impossible to do so under all that snow. "How..?"

"I saw it in your memories," the God of Hearth says as he smiles and gently goes to brush your tears, "so I retraced the steps back when I returned to the mountain. I know how much it means to you." The bracelet is in a much better condition, strings now strong and firm along with the colors of the beads looking as bright and new as it had been firstly given to your mother. You have no words, too touched that saying thank you again sounds too worthless to say so. But he hears you. He understands. The God of Hearth takes the bracelet to roll it onto your wrist with a smile.

While the rain continues falling and falling, dropping against the windowsill constantly, your heart is warmed with delight and love that you have no words that can perfectly describe how you feel. But that's okay because as long as your Gods are here, touching you, they can understand all that cannot be described with words. "I love you," you tell them instead, sniffling.

Namjoon chuckles. "No more tears, okay?"

You nod, wiping away the remaining tears on your own before showing them the smile that they love so much.

"That's right," Jimin muses, "you are the most beautiful when you smile."

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izukuwus · 4 years

Text

Housewarming (NSFW) (Bunny!Izuku x Reader)

Summary: Izuku comes over to spend the weekend helping you finish moving into your new house. You learn a few things about the habits of rabbits, including just how deep the rabbit hole goes. (bunny!Izuku x reader) (smut smut smut smut smut)

Warnings/notes: fuckin. just straight up fuckin. biting, hair pulling, tail and ear pulling, oral (giving and receiving), uhhhhh reader has tits and a vag but gender is not confirmed. reader and izu are both switches, praise kink with reader receiving, uhhh I think that’s it? a gratuitous amount of focus on the fact that bunnies wiggle their noses to express interest in things.

A/N: so uh. I’ve NEVER written smut before so please be gentle. but I had a conversation on discord the other night with some of my lovely wives. that conversation started something like this:

the following is how the conversation ended. (writing smut is apparently much easier with live audience commentary, i’ve learned.)

Word count: 8100+

Spending weekends with Izuku has always been at the top of your list of favorite things, pretty much second only to the man himself. Can anyone blame you? Your rabbit-eared best friend (read: longtime crush) is pretty much the sweetest guy you've ever met, his mom is a wonderful woman, and often, you feel more at home curled up with Izuku on his bedroom floor (neither of you ever want to take the bed only to leave the other on the floor, resulting in a history of cuddling each other to sleep and entirely defeating the purpose of sleeping on the floor to begin with) than you do your own house most of the time.

Spending the weekend together has been a monthly ritual for the two of you for years now, beginning in your last year of middle school (consisting of an extremely flustered bunny) when you still lived in the same apartment complex. You've since moved and the years have been kind, the innocent ritual remaining steadfast no matter how busy you or Izuku got with school or training or any matter of thing.

Only... This weekend is different. Because in the past, the two of you were always in the dorms or at his mom's apartment. There were always people somewhere nearby to pop their head in and offer fresh cookies or join in beating you at Mario Kart or put in a noise complaint if you laughed too loud.

In a way, there were always limits.

This weekend is the first in your new house, bought for a surprisingly low price that you can assume is the result of being relatively small and not in a very desirable area.

This weekend, you're completely alone with him.

Realistically, it's likely not that big of a deal. He's just coming over to help you unpack after you spent the past week preparing for the move. A housewarming sleepover is the perfect way to get you used to sleeping in the new place, after all, and you'd be much more comfortable if Izuku were there with you! (Besides, free labor.)

But you can't help but be just a little high strung.

You've reminded yourself a thousand times now that it's just Izuku. You trust him with your life, after all, and he's trusted you with every secret he has (even those he's technically not legally allowed to be disclosing to you). You were the first person he told about his new quirk, even before his own mom. So why the hell are you so nervous?

You're busily and restlessly looking between kitchen cabinets to decide where your dishes will go when he arrives, landing three firm knocks on your front door. You greet him with a smile and nearly cry when you realize he's brought flowers and pizza, his trademark nervous grin on his face.

"Great! This is the right place!" Izuku says, and you smile and step aside to let him in. "Your new place looks great, [name]!"

You smile, relaxing at his presence as you watch him walk in to explore. "Nothing's really set up yet," you say as he investigates the new house. "I've got a couch, a table, and a lamp and that's about it."

He turns to you, nose twitching excitedly. "It's got a lot of potential! I can't wait to help you get everything set up so we can really see how nice it is! Oh, and these are for you! I know it's traditional to give something, you know, useful for a housewarming gift, but I-I wanted to congratulate you on finally getting enough together to get your own place, and I think having something nice to look at is useful, too, so—"

You accept the bouquet with a faint blush, smiling up at him. "I love them, Izuku. Thank you." (Privately, you think that just his presence here gives you something nice to look at, but you suppose the flowers will stay a little bit longer.)

There's a quiet moment where the two of you just look at each other, and man, Izuku is really good at making you think he might actually be attracted to you, huh. (Probably just wishful thinking.) "Let's... let's go ahead and get started, yeah?" you say, eyes drifting hungrily to the box he has balanced on one hand. "I see you've brought pizza. I haven't put together the chairs yet, so wanna sit in the middle of my kitchen floor and eat pizza?"

He chuckles, ruffling your hair. "Lead the way."

An entire pizza between the two of you and with the entire kitchen unpacked, you fling yourself onto the couch with a sigh. "God, I'm so tired of this move already," you whine. "I just wanna be done already."

Izuku laughs as you drape yourself over the back of the couch dramatically, throwing an arm over your face. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes!" You take a moment to peek at him as he crouches by your TV, but his back blocks your view of what he's actually doing. Instead, you watch his fluffy tail with amusement. It twitches whenever you speak, and you swear to god it's the cutest thing you've ever seen. "I spent the past weeks packing when I wasn't at work only to unpack it and I'm tired, 'Zukuuuu."

"Well, what if we took a little break?" he offers with another twitch of his tail. He stands, brandishing your favorite controller as he circles around behind the couch to hand it to you. "You up for it?"

You roll your eyes, shifting to reach for the controller. The minute your fingers brush against it, though, Izuku takes a step back, his nose twitching quickly. The corners of his lips pull up into a poorly-concealed grin, and you sigh, flipping over and reaching for it again.

"Izuku..." you say, tone playfully warning as he pulls the controller just out of your reach a second time.

"You sure you want it?" he teases, pulling the controller just far enough away that you pop up on your knees, propping yourself on the back of the couch with one hand as you reach. "You want me to destroy you that badly?"

Ohgodpleaseyes—You choke, your hand slipping out from beneath you. Before he has the chance to be too concerned, you let out an annoyed noise and fling yourself over the back of the couch, chasing after him with a beet red face. Izuku yelps and runs the other direction when he sees you coming, hardly giving you the chance to break into a sprint before he's down the hall.

He stops a few feet down, watching you with one ear raised up, the other dropping against his shoulder. The grin on his face is downright goofy, and you let out a small giggle before giving proper chase.

Izuku, naturally, is not one to be caught. Even without the use of One For All, bunnies are naturally very fast, and you learned fairly quickly that he does not get caught if he doesn't want to be. Still, you'd be damned if you weren't going to try. You try to tackle, he somehow manages to slip around you and back down the hall, evading you constantly until the two of you have bounded through every room of the house, narrowly avoiding boxes and as-of-yet still-disassembled furniture just to get your damn controller between his amused laughter.

Izuku stops and watches you again just as you're starting to get out of breath, nose twitching a mile a minute. You come to a stop just in front of the couch, panting a bit from the exertion of chasing your fucking menace of a best friend around your house. He has both controllers held behind his back, and that's about when he does the single cutest thing you've ever seen in your life.

He fucking binkies, leaping into the air a few feet as he flicks his head, his ears flopping with the movement. You let out a giggle, trying very hard not to completely lose your composure, and, in a fit of goofiness, mimic the motion. It doesn't quite work the same when you're not the adorable one with the bunny quirk, but apparently, it does something, because Izuku's face goes full red in an instant, eyes widening as he searches your face.

He drops the controllers.

Your eyes flick to them as they hit the ground, and you realize that if you're going to get those controllers you have to do it now. You make a move to sweep them off the ground, but the second you move, it's apparently over for you.

The slightest sound of electric sparks reaches your ears before the wind's knocked out of you, your back hitting your couch cushions roughly as Izuku slams into your body, one hand cradling the back of your head protectively before he straddles your waist, looking down at you with a downright ecstatic look, green lightning sparking around Izuku for just a moment longer as he stares down at you, nose still twitching like it's run by a motor, ears straight up in the air, but that's hardly the key detail here.

His face is beet fucking red as he stammers. "D-do you really mean that?"

"Uh... wait, mean what?" You tilt your head, a little flustered from suddenly getting tackled and pinned down by your incredibly attractive best friend. Is your head spinning, or is that just the room?

Fuck, are you imagining things, or does he look excited beneath all that blushing?

"Y-you did it back, usually that's, uh, it means— um..." The excitement drains from his face steadily and his expression drops. (His ears also drop.) You've never seen him look so wounded, and now you're really confused. His next words tumble out of his mouth at a dizzying rate. "I-if you don't know what I'm talking about then nevermind, I obviously messed up, I can leave—"

The moment Izuku pushes off you and stands, very obviously embarrassed and looking on the verge of tears, you regain your bearings just enough to tackle him back down so now he's the one being pinned down. "No, you're not backing out of this. Did I really mean what, Izuku?"

He stammers incoherently for a second, his eyes roaming over you like he's not sure where to look, and you're suddenly a little self-conscious at the fact that you've just pinned him to your couch with no room for interruptions if things were to go the way pinning someone down on a couch is probably supposed to go, but you refuse to let up until he gives you an answer. You bring a hand up to his cheek, swiping a thumb where the first of several tears is moments away from slipping out.

"Come on, Zu-kun. I obviously did something to upset you, and I don't know what I did, and won't know what I did until you explain it to me."

He lets out a shaky sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if it'll change the situation.

"'Zuku..."

Finally, he opens his mouth to answer. "It's, um, w-well, usually when rabbits, y'know, c-court each other, to, y'know..." His hands come up to cover his face in sheer embarrassment as he says the next words in a hushed hurry, so quick and quiet you almost don't catch them. "Y-y'know, m-m-mate and stuff like that, they, uh..."

Hot shame floods your being as you slowly come to a realization of what, exactly, you may have implied to him.

"It's, it usually, um, there's, kind of a m-mating dance? And w-when, um, I-I didn't really mean to, but um, at the end, i-if one of them binkies and the other d-does it back, it means, um—" He lets out a mortified whine. "P-please don't make me explain it any more than that," he says finally, sounding defeated.

Oh. Oh.

Well, that's something along the lines of a "disaster" if you've ever caused one.

"Oh fuck, I am so sorry, shit Izu. I didn't mean to—"

"I-it's okay," he mumbles, dragging his hands off his reddened face. "You can get off me now."

Jesus, he's about seconds away from crying as he gently tries to push you off him.

Well, fuck. Unless you're mistaken, the expression on his face is utter heartbreak. You're already in the worst position possible here, so...

You lock your thighs in place around his waist to resist his gentle push. "Izuku, wait."

"[name], it's okay. Please just, give me a minute to—"

"Izuku." You firmly place your hands on his chest, pushing him back down. "Please listen for a sec?"

His hands remain on you, but he stops pushing, not meeting your eyes as he waits in silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that binkying back at you like that would imply that I, you know, wanted to get with you, but that doesn't..." You chew your lip, locking your eyes on the controllers, still on the floor from when he dropped them. No backing out.

You mumble the last part (the most important part) so fast you almost hope he doesn't hear you: "that doesn't mean it was the wrong idea or anything—"

His head is still turned away, but his eyes flick to your face with a surprised sniffle. "...what?"

You furrow your brow, your heart hammering away in your chest. "God, please don't make me say it again," you whine, your hands coming up to hide your own face.

"No, please say it again," he breathes. "I mean, I already misinterpreted once today and I don't want to—"

You let out an embarrassed whine, pressing your hands to your face even harder. "I didn't mean to say it but that doesn't mean it wasn't something I meant to say eventually," you hiss out slowly and much louder than you would have liked.

You peek at Izuku through your fingers, desperately looking for any reaction to tell you whether you just irreparably fucked things up with your best friend.

Izuku is, and always has been, a very expressive person. You've been able to gauge his emotions at a glance for as long as you've known him—even if he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, generally the angle of his ears and the movement of his nose or tail have always been more than enough to keep tabs on how your best friend is feeling.

Right now, though, aside from the flush on his cheeks and slight parting of his lips, Izuku is carefully blank. It's like he's shut down, mentally—blank eyes, nose still, mouth just slightly open but not with any hint of emotion to it. Not positive, not negative, just mild shock and a practiced blankness that has your face burning and you moving to get off him.

You feel him shift beneath you just a moment, and then once again, you yelp as you suddenly find yourself on your back, but this time, you're not looking up at Izuku, because his lips are pressed to yours, one leg hanging off the couch while the other is wedged firmly between your legs. You can feel his hands tremble as they cup your face, your eyes blown wide with shock. He's unpracticed, but his lips are soft and it's him kissing you so enthusiastically that you really have no right to complain.

Your eyes flutter shut as you begin to kiss back, your hands gently coming up to tangle fingers in his hair. You let out the tiniest whimper as your reciprocation seems only to spur him on, him kissing you somehow even more passionately.

You can't help but giggle into the kiss when you feel his nose twitching against your face, causing him to pull back just enough to breathe. His obsession with training over the years has clearly done him well—his breathing seems mostly unaffected by the kiss, while you lay there panting and trying to make sense of what the hell just happened.

Izuku watches your face for just a moment, seemingly shocked at his own actions, but leans in again, brushing his nose against yours adoringly. "I-I'm sorry, I was just... really happy..."

You let out another tiny giggle, leaning up to kiss him again. Much like in all other areas of his life, he's quick to kiss back, already seeming to kiss you with a bit more precision than the first. He pulls back, hot breath ghosting against your lips as he whispers to you. "I-I've loved you for—" —he breaks off to plant another tiny kiss on your lips— "—s-so, so long, [name]."

He goes to kiss your lips again, but whines when you turn your head so he hits your cheek instead. "I love you too, 'Zuku," you hum, continuing to dodge his kisses playfully.

"[naaaame]," he whines. "I've got a lot of lost time to make up for, stop dodging me..."

Cute, sweet kisses are lovely and all, but as long as you're trapped between his muscles and the couch, you might as well tease him a little, right? And you've got just the idea to push him a bit further.

You look up at him with a playful smile as he glares heatlessly at you. His hand, previously cupping your cheek sweetly, grows a little bit firmer in its hold in an attempt to hold your face in place so he can kiss your lips. He darts down to capture your lips again, exactly according to plan.

Your fingers, still entwined in the mop of green he calls hair, grip carefully and tug his head back before he can properly kiss you.

Bingo. You can't help but grin with flushed cheeks as he immediately grinds his hips down onto your leg, letting out a breathy moan as something suspiciously firm and growing rubs against your thigh, bare from the shorts you dug out of your clothes this morning.

You watch his face in awe, his freckles disappearing among how purely red he's gone, and give another gentle tug to his hair. This time, he borderline whimpers, hips moving like he's being controlled. His eyelids flutter shut, hot pants causing his chest to heave as green eyes stare down at you, darker than you remember.

No lies here, the fact that he can't help but grind on you is... really hot. So hot, in fact, that you can't help but shoot him a teasing smirk as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. "Excited, Jackrabbit?" you muse.

He whines as his head drops to your shoulder. Quietly, so quietly you almost miss it, he mumbles, "how can I not be when you of all people finally take an interest in me?"

God, if he weren't still grinding his hard-on against you, that would've been adorable. "If I'd known you were into me, we could've been doing this years ago, 'Zuku baby." You punctuate your sentence with another tug to his hair, to which he retaliates by biting down on the crook of your neck, dragging a drawn-out moan from your throat.

He pulls off with a small giggle of his own, eyes staring down at you playfully. "Aw, are we sensitive, honeybun?"

You don't dignify him with a response. At least, not a verbal one. You pull him back down for another heated kiss, lips moving against his as your hands slowly drift from his hair, down to his chest. You splay your palms out, just feeling his muscles for a second before you pull back, take a breath, and shove him as hard as you can. He lets out a tiny "guh?" before you're straddling his hips, hands returning to his hair and lips returning to his.

He's shocked, but clearly he's more than happy to continue making out with you like this. You, however, have a curiosity stemming from years of Izuku dodging around you touching his ears that you just have to sate, so your hands slowly but purposely crawl up to the base of his ears, thumbs brushing the velvety appendages gently before you pinch the base and give them the slightest tug.

Izuku pulls back with a moan, shivering as you continue to thumb his ears in slight awe at their texture. "[n-name]~"

You bring a hand up to laugh. "Aw, are we sensitive, Izu?" you tease, drawing a glare from him. Just to drive it home, you shift and grind your hips down, planting both hands on his chest to steady yourself, effectively killing his glare as he lets out another shaky moan.

"T-that's not fair," he whines.

"Life's not fair," you muse, grinding down one more time before leaning down and tugging at his shirt. He doesn't seem to notice, lost in pleasure just from grinding with his eyes closed. "'Zuku baby, can I see a bit more of you?"

Another whine tears from his throat, and he opens one eye to look up at you. "O-only if I—hah—get to see more of you, too."

You smile, locking your legs around his hips and giving him a show as you slowly peel your shirt off. When it's over your head, you look down and wink, almost losing your composure completely.

His jaw's dropped, eyes locked on your body, and when you wink, he bucks his hips up. You yelp, barely managing to steady yourself at the sudden force, and this time when you lean down and go to pull his own shirt off, he helps you wiggle it off of him. You suppress a groan at the sight of his bare chest, shifting up a bit so you're straddling his abs and he can't grind against you as easily. (You love it, but can't have him getting too excited, now.)

Scarred, calloused hands settle on your waist as he just admires you, completely wordless. You've half a mind to be self-conscious about his lustful gaze on you, but it's hard when you've got your own view to devour.

Izuku really is gorgeous. Sure, it's not the first time you've noticed over the years. Where he was once your scrawny bunny boy, years of training and hero work have left him littered with scars and bursting with muscles, maintaining his lithe form without sacrificing any amount of strength. Among the scars is a smattering of freckles decorating his shoulders, and that's just his body. To say nothing about his face, still young-looking despite the years and, as of right now, dripping with utter adoration for you.

"You're gorgeous," he breathes, thumbs gently rubbing circles into your hips.

"Says you." You smooth your hands over his chest, dragging your nails teasingly. When you barely brush against his nipples, he shivers, letting out the slightest gasp. You smirk and repeat the motion, watching his face as his fingers twitch around your waist. You could honestly tease him like this for hours just to watch his face and feel his muscles as his stomach trembles between your legs. (Again, Izuku has always been the epitome of expressive, and it's moments like these that you truly understand how much that shines.)

Izuku, however, has a better idea as he effortlessly sits up with you in his lap, trembling as he gives you a slow, charged kiss. (You'd like to imagine his thought process right now is something along the lines of "holy shit holy shit holy shit", but it's difficult to tell.) When he pulls away, he buries his nose in your neck, letting out a shuddering sigh as you glance down over his back. "I-is it okay if I touch you, too?"

You stifle a laugh when you finally notice his tail hitting the couch a mile a minute, forgetting for a moment that Izuku asked you a question. "Just do it already, Jackrabbit," you tease. "You don't have to ask."

He doesn't waste a moment at your permission, immediately shoving your bra up and out of the way to take one of your breasts into his mouth, a hand coming up to knead the other one excitedly. For a moment, you simply hold him as he enjoys himself, letting out little gasps as he lathes a hot tongue over your nipple and lets out a tiny moan of his own. But naturally, your eyes drift to his tail again. The ball of fluff seems to be moving of its own accord, and honestly, you can't resist drifting your hand down to grab it and give it a little tug.

The mouth on your breast leaves as Izuku immediately tosses his head back, letting out a strangled moan louder than you ever thought possible. His hands squeeze instinctively as his eyes roll back, ears falling back and brushing your hand as he momentarily loses himself.

Your face flushes as you watch his with renewed interest. You swear you can see hearts in his eyes, the blush on his cheeks creeping down his neck and shoulders, and holy fuck do you wish you had a camera ready. You want to look at that expression every day for the rest of your life.

He lets out a few garbled noises that might have been words, had he been two percent more coherent. Your laugh dies in your throat when, upon collecting himself, he gives you a look about four shades darker than you ever thought your sweet Izuku to be capable of. You knew he was gorgeous and fun and amazing, but now you can add "panty-dropper" to the list of words describing him.

You don't fight back when he practically flings you back onto your back and clamors to hover over you, nipping at your neck as his hands find the waistband of your shorts. He yanks both your shorts and your panties down at once, leaving them to pool around your knees as the force pulls you back flush with his hips. When you give his tail another weak tug he growls into your neck. You're gone. You're officially gone. Between the not-so-gentle reminder that this boy can fling you around like a ragdoll whenever he wants (and that you kinda wanna thank him for doing so) and the growl, just...

Goodbye, panties. You're living a better life now.

When he looks into your eyes with that same heated gaze from before, your breath catches in your throat. His voice, however, is far from matching when he speaks. "I-I really want to take things slow a-and do things right, b-but if you keep pulling my tail like that, my patience is gonna run out, you know?"

You watch his face with wide eyes for a long moment, pulling the most innocent face you can muster. "Pulling your tail like what, Jackrabbit?" you say teasingly.

And then.

You pull again.

Izuku's moan turns to a whine and mixes with your own as he bites down on your neck a third time to muffle himself. He pulls up when he's collected and reaches behind himself, one hand firmly wrapping around your wrist while the other grabs your other hand. Slowly, purposefully, he pins your wrists down in one hand, attempting to intimidate you with a glare. There's no heat to it, though, especially not like this, not when there's hearts in his eyes, not when he's panting and sweating and blushing down his neck and you're now fully aware that he moans like a goddamn pornstar.

To his credit, none of that makes you any less horny right now.

Now that he's got your wrists pinned down, he takes another moment to just look at you with hungry eyes. They roam your disheveled form, paying particular attention to your tits as they bounce with every heavy breath. His eyes drift up to your face, and he swallows harshly at the look you're giving him. It takes him just a moment longer of admiring you, the damn near animalistic look from before slipping away to something more Izuku before he speaks.

"I-if we're going to do this, I want to make sure you feel good, too," he says evenly, no longer looking anything but purely genuine. "So please keep your hands to yourself for a little bit?" He tilts his head, ears flopping with the motion, eyes innocent as if he's not asking you to hold still so he can drive you to madness without interruptions.

You nod slowly, swallowing a bit and stilling in his grasp. His fingers twitch, his face lights up, and for just a moment you swear he's more like a puppy than a bunny.

He shifts, his hands releasing your wrists but hovering over them a moment longer. "If you need me to stop at all, just let me know, okay? The last thing I want to do is push you further than you're okay with it."

"Okay," you whisper breathlessly, watching with interest as he properly lets your wrists go. He glares playfully for a moment, watching to see that you don't move your hands, and when he seems satisfied that you'll actually listen this time, he begins tracing down your arms with featherlight touches.

He's painfully slow in his movements, fingertips grazing your skin as he moves down. He briefly leans down and pecks at you softly, first your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then grazes your lips just enough to draw out a whine as he cups your cheeks. With every tiny kiss, he mutters against your skin— "love you—" "—so much—" "—so fucking much."

"Love you more," you chirp sweetly.

"Hmm, that's debatable," he hums. "But let's come back to that later. Right now, there's s-something I want to do."

With that, he continues running his hands down your body, smoothing his rough palms out just to feel your skin. He exhales slowly as he palms your breasts, smiling fondly down at you as you gasp. "You're so soft..." he whispers, mostly to himself, as his nose twitches a single time. He only plays with your breasts for a moment before his hands continue to move down your body, eliciting a surprised giggle when his scarred hands smooth over your sides. He slowly moves in with both hands, dipping between your thighs, and just when you think he's finally going to touch your dripping slit...

He gently parts your thighs and continues moving, lightening his touch as fingertips drag over your inner thighs. You let out a mournful cry when he continues down your legs, hands smoothing against your outer thighs and hooking underneath as he reaches your knees.

He exhales, flicks his eyes up to your face with a blank look that usually spells trouble. Without warning, he yanks you toward him in a controlled jerk, leaning down as you yelp. Before you can get your bearings, his hot tongue is dragging flat against your heat. You let out a moan that almost drowns out his own at the flavor.

"God, y-you're so wet for me, [n-name]." His breath is hot against you, green eyes locked on yours. "You taste so good."

You'd like to respond, really you would, but he goes right back to eating you out, tongue firmly dancing over your clit before dipping into you. His hands grip your thighs as he enthusiastically gets to work, little moans peppering the space in between your own gasps and pants. You throw your head back as he works—he's a messy eater, to be sure, but you swear you can feel him learning as he goes. He's probably cataloging every noise you make, every twitch of your thighs, especially if the rhythm he quickly falls into is anything to go by.

When he moves to latch his mouth over your clit, his eyes closed as he loses himself to pleasuring you, and you're so so close, maybe you can get away with at least winding your fingers through his hair—

The moment your hands move, his eyes shoot open, and he pulls away from your pussy with a look that screams nothing but disappointment, though it doesn't quite cut. "Honeybun..." he says, voice husky and gently chiding, your slick glistening on his lips. "You said you'd keep your hands to yourself."

You instantly slam your hands back down to the couch, letting out a whine as you give him a pleading look. "B-but I wanna touch you, Izu," you whine out.

His hips buck against air at your words, his nose twitching in surprise as his eyes widen. Seeing a crack in his armor, you have to pounce. "Come on, Jackrabbit," you insist. "You're so good to me. Can't I make you feel amazing, too?"

He's so stunned that he hardly reacts as you prop yourself up on one elbow, yanking him down for a hot kiss with a hand on the nape of his neck. You wrinkle your nose in distaste when you realize you can taste yourself on his lips, but that doesn't mean you're going to stop, not by any means. You lift a knee, opening one eye to make sure you're aiming correctly, and rub against his aching bulge just as his tongue slips into your mouth.

The poor boy jerks away from your mouth, letting out a quiet, drawn out moan as his cock twitches against your knee.

He stares at you for a moment, face flushed and breathing heavy as tiny tears form at the corners of his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, [name], I wanted you t-to—"

You cut him off with a sweet kiss, locking lips with him as you carefully shimmy out of your bra and bottoms (both having been left hastily shoved out of the way), tossing them out of the way. When you're properly stripped, you gently push him back so you're both sitting up and pull away with a sweet smile.

"We're only done here if you want to be, Zuzu," you say, dripping with affection (and perhaps maybe something else).

He immediately shakes his head, ears following the motion as his face flushes worse. "N-no, I want to... I want to keep going."

You chuckle softly and slide off the couch, gently guiding him to sit in front of you properly before you reach up to toy with the zipper of his pants. "Then, let's keep going, hm~?"

He nods, nose twitching relentlessly as you slowly pull his zipper down and slide your hands into his pants. You cheekily smooth your hands over his ass before actually beginning to pull his pants and boxers off in one go. You giggle as his cock springs out, somehow still hard despite the obvious mess of cum clinging to his thighs and the inside of his boxers. You slowly lean forward, sure to make eye contact with him. Instead of going for the mess he's made just yet, however, you run a thumb through some of his cum and smear it over his abs, just to have an excuse to lick it off.

You're slow and sweet as you lick up his abs, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. The look he gives you is almost one of betrayal as you pull back, and you bring a hand to your lips with a coquettish grin.

"Sorry Izu baby, I've been wanting to do that for the longest time," you admit, resting your arms on his legs and your head on your arms.

He groans lowly at the admission, head dropping back. "H-how long—" he breathes out, cutting off when you drag a finger over his length.

God, even his cock is gorgeous. Long, thick, honestly just a little bit intimidating. You're functionally a virgin thanks to your formative years spent being silently in love with a certain green rabbit boy, so you're a little concerned that he'll split you in half when you actually fuck.

...You might not complain if he does.

You admire it with adoring eyes as he whimpers. "Now's not the time for asking questions, Jackrabbit," you coo, glancing up at him for only a moment before wrapping your hand around his cock. (Christ, you can barely wrap your whole hand around it.) "I was good long enough, so you'll let me return the favor, right?"

"I'll be good," he whines, bucking into your hand something fierce. "I'll be good so please, [name], please—"

You lift your head from where it rests, guiding his tip to your mouth to press a tiny kiss there. Izuku whimpers in response, attempting to buck his hips again. You smile, snaking an arm around behind him to gently run your thumb over the fluff of his tail. You keep a light hold on it, just touching it enough to feel it as you take a deep breath in preparation. When you're ready, you lean forward again slowly, teasingly breathing hot air onto his cock before finally, finally taking him into your mouth.

"Fuck," Izuku breathes as your mouth closes over him, gripping the couch cushions with white knuckles.

If you thought you'd take this slow and teasing, well, regrettably, Izuku can't seem to control himself well enough for that. He bucks into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease as you choke. You tug his tail ever-so-slightly as a warning, but his response is almost more than the way he lost his mind earlier—his hips move frantically, leaving you to do nothing but relax and take his cock down your throat.

"I-I'm sorry," he babbles. "Y-your mouth is so— so good, you're so good for me, honeybun, I'm sorry, I don't think— ahn~ I don't think I can be good like you asked, it's too good, you're too good, s-soooooooo—"

You manage to tear yourself away from him just in time for him to erupt, hot ropes of cum hitting your face and the top of your breasts, precious little making it into your mouth as you gasp for air. His tail twitches in your hand as he babbles, legs shaking and feet gently thumping the floor. You gently, carefully, clean him up, pausing to grab your discarded shirt and wipe your face off.

When you're both clean and still out of breath, you rest your head against his leg, tilting up at him sweetly as you trace small, soothing circles over his opposite thigh. "You said you'd be good, but I guess this makes us even, huh, 'Zuku?"

He mutters something you don't quite catch.

"What was that?"

"I said—" —you're suddenly tackled once again, skidding across the floor from sheer force as Izuku pins you down— "—not. yet."

Well. Mark me down as scared and horny, I guess.

"S-still raring to go, Jackrabbit?" you force out in your best teasing tone. "Huh, guess it's true what they say about fucking like—"

"Hush," he hisses out in a dark tone. You gulp; all the adoration and sweetness you're used to from him has melted away, leaving only something dark and carnal in his eyes that has you shivering. And then, almost instantaneously, he slips into a saccharine tone. "Be a good girl and let me take care of you, okay sweetheart?"

Oh god. You nod so quickly it's dizzying, so slightly that if it were anyone other than Izuku watching you, they might not notice. But it is Izuku and he notices, just like he notices your breath hitching when he does something right, notices how you respond to his praise, notices how you watch him, excited and intimidated all at once, and the smile he gives you is deceptively sweet and innocent and so so unsuited to the situation at hand that if the circumstances were different, you'd laugh. But you're not laughing. Not when you feel his head prod against your entrance and circle teasingly.

He doesn't tease you for long, though. One whine from you is all it takes for him to slide into you, made easier by how soaked you get the moment his goddamn guttural groan reaches your ears. He shakes as he enters you at a torturous pace, drawing a cry from your lips as you feel yourself stretched in a way you've never been before. The slightest squelch fills your living room as he finally bottoms out in you and stills to let you adjust to his size.

You're not sure whether to thank every deity that he's got at least enough self control to let you adjust (or that he's going to fuck you at all) or to plead for him to please god just rearrange my guts already before you lose your fucking mind. Izuku forces himself to open his eyes and watch you as you take him in, biting his lip as your face contorts. It's so much, so much to not just ruin you right off the bat, but he's careful to wait and not hurt you... too badly, at least.

You just watch him, meeting his eyes with a half-lidded gaze of your own as you pant and lie still. After a moment, Izuku realizes why you're so still and quiet—

His head drops into your shoulder as he chuckles. "You really are so good for me, honeybun. Are you ready?"

"P-please~" you mewl into his ear.

That's all he needs to hear. Slowly, carefully, he pulls out of you until just the tip of his cock is left throbbing inside of you, and then he snaps his hips forward in one sharp motion. That damn smile drops from his face, his jaw going slack as he starts a slow pace, trying his absolute damnedest to not completely lose himself. As much as he adores watching your expressions, he can't help but throw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as he pistons into you, panting heavily.

"Hah~ Fuck, [name], y-you're so— so tight~"

When he finally brings himself to take a peek down at you, he can't help the sudden increase in both speed and force as he grips your hips. With every thrust, your tits bounce in response, and your expression is nothing short of starstruck as he damn near slams into you. Before he even realizes it, a stream of words fall from his lips, every one of them truthful, adoring, and just a little bit incoherent. Your mouth hangs open in silence, unable to even moan as he drills into you at a pace quickly approaching brutal speeds.

"God, y-you feel so much— so much better than I ever expected-hoped-dreamed about, honeybun, and I really mean that, really mean that, you're so— guh, so tight around me, i-it's hard to believe you weren't made to take my cock, you know? You're so hot and wet and tight and I— I-love-you-love-you-love-you oh godddd I love you so much you're so gooooooood~"

If you were able to focus enough to think, let alone speak, you'd probably make some comment about how he's literally fucking you like a rabbit, but it's all you can do to claw desperately at his back, legs locking weakly around his hips as you quiver beneath him. Between the way he's babbling nonsensically to you and the wet slaps filling the room and the charming sloppy-enthusiastic way he's fucking you relentlessly it's almost too much. If you can walk after this, it'll be nothing short of a miracle.

You've been almost silent, practically unable to moan due to the overwhelming bliss from being stretched out so deliciously, but the keen that tears from your throat as the building knot in your stomach finally snaps is loud, nails dragging down his back one last time as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

There's not really any doubt left in Izuku's mind that he's fucked you stupid, not with your walls fluttering around him, not with your hands desperately moving, searching for something, and he's got an idea of what it is when your hand brushes his tail and yanks, rougher than you have before, hard enough to send him crashing over the edge with you and nearly making his legs give out from the pleasure.

Izuku's vision blacks out as the pleasure crashes over him, the pair of you riding out your orgasms in tandem as he paints your walls white. You're dizzy as he finally collapses on top of your body, shuddering and not bothering to pull out of you as he rests his cheek against your heaving breasts.

"Holy shit, Izuku," you breathe, hands tangling in his hair as you stare up at your ceiling.

"Now we're even," he says, shaking a bit as he chuckles.

"I hope you know I'm never letting you go." His hair is soft as you nuzzle into it. "Holy shit."

"Aw, am I that good?" he teases, slowly pulling out of you. You whine at the loss. "Shh, it's okay, honeybun. I promise that won't be the last time."

"Thank god," you mumble, playing with his hair lazily. "Go out with me."

"No."

Your hands still, your blood running cold. "Oh."

"You go out with me," he finishes, smiling against you.

You lightly smack the back of his head. "You scared me, dick."

"Is that a yes?"

You go back to playing with his hair. "I guess. But you have to go out with me, too."

"Yes, that's how it works."

"Really?" you retort. "You had me fooled, rejecting me so you could ask me out instead."

"What can I say?" He lifts his head, pushing himself up to plant a soft kiss on your lips. "I wanted to win."

"You could've killed me, Izu," you whine. "You're heavy and then you say no—"

He rolls his eyes, nuzzling into your neck. "You know I could never actually say no to you, right?"

"Oh~? Are you saying you're too in love?" you tease.

He giggles, pressing tiny kisses along your neck. "Yes, I am. I've been in love with you since middle school. Got a problem with it, honeybun?"

"O-oh." Huh.

"What? Got nothin' to say to that?" he teases.

"S-sorry, I'm just... fuck, you're saying I could've had you years ago?" You press a kiss to the top of his head, right between his ears. "I've been in love with you for just as long and this whole time I've just been pining instead of kissing you."

"Pining?" he echoes, rolling off of you with a grunt. He immediately wraps his arms around you to pull you flush with his side, smirking at your little squeak of surprise.

You blush, burying your face in his chest. "Y-yeah, I said it. Pining."

"Tell me more, Honeybun. I'm interested to know exactly what you mean." A large hand drifts up to card through your hair affectionately, and you sigh as you drape your arm over him.

"Izuku," you whine. "It's embarrassing."

"Please, [name]?"

"...fine," you mumble. "I was always... You were always so sweet and kind and passionate, and in middle school you were cute and I wanted to protect you. But then we got to high school, and oh no he's hot, I guess... I mean, shit, Izu, you got muscles. And scars. I know you don't like them much but they're hot."

"'Hot', huh...?"

You don't have to look at him to note how much he's clearly enjoying this. "Keep making fun of me and you can sleep on the floor tonight."

"That's okay, as long as you're here, too," he replies without missing a beat. "Do you wanna get up and go wash up? I can't imagine all that feels very comfy right now."

You laugh nervously. "I'd love to, but, uh. I still can't feel my legs. I don't think I can walk."

Izuku lets out an affronted gasp as he sits up. "[name]. I'm offended at the implication that I'd make you walk." He pushes himself up. "You wait here, and I'll run you a bath."

"Mm... no," you reply, watching him with subtle amusement. "Run us a bath, Jackrabbit."

He laughs, shooting you a wink. "Anything for you, Honeybun. I'll be right back."

He rushes off on shaky legs. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles when he returns not even a moment later.

"Hey, [name]?"

"Hm? Could it be that you don't know where my bathroom is?"

He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "Maybe."

You laugh. "Down the hall, first door on your right."

"Right. Gotcha! Thanks, Honeybun. Oh, one more thing?"

"What's that?"

His expression shifts, eyes dripping with fondness as he looks you over. "I love you."

Your heart swells, smile unwittingly stretching your cheeks at the confession. "I love you too, Izuku."

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