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wife-of-all-dilfs · 5 months

Note

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

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metalhoops · 1 year

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Steve’s party trick was appearing sober long past the point of inebriation.

It was an act he’d perfected through observation. He’d watched his mother down wine like water and waltz into a garden party looking sober as a saint. So when everything went down at the Starcourt Mall, with the drugs and the appearance of another burgeoning concussion-induced migraine fogging the edges of his vision, he’d pushed through with professional tact.

Steve couldn’t explain how it happened. One moment he was sitting on the kitchen counter, cradling a bag of frozen peas to his bare face, freezer burn nipping at the edges of his consciousness, and the next he was sprawled out on the carpet of a stranger’s house.

What happened in between, he’d never know.

Maybe it was for the best. Ignorance was bliss, in Steve’s opinion. His life was so much easier before the Upside Down. He would’ve been a worse person and lived a worse life. Yet his life would’ve been close to normal, not the mercurial mess it’d become. He wouldn’t have spent the night locked in a secret underground soviet bunker, his face doubling as a punching bag for a man he didn’t know, while monsters roamed about the town.

The mall had burned down, Steve remembered. After all was said and done, Mrs Byers dropped him and Robin off at their respective homes. Steve insisted he didn’t need to go to the hospital, that he was fine and, more importantly, that his parents were home. When Robin sobered up, she’d realise Steve had lied.

He’d told Robin a lot of things, and after the night in the mall, so had she. She knew Steve’s parents had been out of town for months, but she’d been flying too high to use any of her admittedly brilliant brain to put two and two together. Steve loved Robin. He loved her differently after that night, but he still loved her. He was human. He needed time to lick his wounds and some space. The quiet of the Harrington house had seemed like a blessing, so where the hell was he now?

“Hey, what did you take?” A vaguely familiar voice shook Steve from his stupor.

He rolled away from the sound, burying his face in the carpet. He cringed as a spark of pain shot through the veiled numbness that’d inhabited his body since the Russian drugs had hijacked his system.

“Ouch,” Steve grumbled miserably.

His head throbbed. One eye was entirely swollen shut. Even if Steve was sober, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to place the boy through his hazy vision. All he could make out were colours, pale skin, dark hair, and darker clothes.

“I know. I know. You’ve got a real shiner, Harrington. Come on, up,” the boy instructed.

Steve felt cool skin graze against the nape of his neck, pulling him up into a sitting position. Steve remained boneless, not making the task easy.

He felt separate from his body, not sure where he ended and the rest of the world began. Once pulled up, he kept falling forward, his face making contact with the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt. The boy was more comfortable than the floor, with less carpet burn and more smooth leather. He smelled of smoke, sweat and an earthy kind of cologne that hadn’t been refreshed in hours.

“Elevator up,” Steve chuckled, laughing too hard for his own good.

His ribs ached. He felt a laugh shudder through the boy’s body as he pulled Steve back, trying to get a better look at him. He held a finger in front of Steve’s face.

“Not sure what this is meant to do but I’ve seen it in movies,” the boy commented as he moved his finger right to left, inspecting Steve’s face for something, neither boy was quite sure of.

“Alright. You’ve gotta know I’m the least likely person to narc on you, Harrington. What did you take? Special K? Some Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds? Were you Chasing the Dragon? Gotta be something stronger than weed, man,” the boy insisted.

Steve screwed up his nose and moved away from the man.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Steve complained, trying to untangle the string of words the guy had thrown his way.

Steve staggered to his feet, swaying before propping himself up, leaning against the wall, and feeling the whole thing tilt under his weight.

“Dude, your walls are broken,” Steve muttered, as his legs gave out and he slid down to the floor.

“We’re in a trailer, Steve,” the boy pointed out. Steve looked around the place, trying to make shapes from the blurs of colour and light.

“Oh yeah,” He noted before resting his chin on his knee.

The boy sat down in front of him, mirroring Steve’s posture, his chin resting on the bare knees of his ripped jeans.

“Do you know what you took?” He pushed on, this time taking a different approach.

“No,” Steve admitted, at last, sliding forward.

The boy’s rings had caught his attention. They were little halos of light. He curiously tugged at his hand, pulling him close to examine the shine. He ran his fingers over the rise and fall of the rings.

“Okay,” the dark-haired boy breathed, seemingly to himself.

“I think you need to go to the hospital, dude.”

“No hospitals,” Steve remarked eloquently as he returned to his previous position, face down on the carpet, taking the boy's hand with him.

“Yeah well, I’m not so sure I like the idea of you sleeping either, Stevie,” He reasoned, his voice sounding strangled.

“I’m tired,” Steve rebutted, his eyes sliding shut.

There the boy was again, taking Steve’s face into his palm and pulling him up. For a moment, the vision in his good eye cleared enough to make out brown eyes painted with concern.

“Look, I know we hated each other’s guts in high school but I don’t want you to O.D. on my carpet. It’s not good for the ambience,” the boy continued.

Steve squinted, trying to place the face. Sure, he’d been a jerk in high school, particularly before his senior year, but he didn’t remember hating anyone. Not really. Maybe Jonathan, for a time, but that had passed.

Munson. Steve’s brain supplied at last. The boy was Eddie Munson. He sold drugs and hung out on the fringes of Steve’s bigger parties back in the peak of his ‘King Steve’ era.

“You hated me?” Steve asked, hearing the hurt in his voice before he realised what he was feeling. Eddie’s eyes widened in alarm, Steve’s face still in his palm.

“What? No. I thought you hated me. I mean, you were a jock and I’ve got my whole ‘fuck the man shtick’, so it wasn’t like we ran in the same circles,” Eddie elaborated.

“Jocks are ‘the man’?” Steve questioned. He’d like to blame the drugs, but he’d probably ask the question sober.

“No. Yes. Kind of. Jocks are like... the grease for a cog in the wheel of the machine. All mass compliance to societal norms... or whatever.”

Steve blinked owlishly at Eddie, trying to make a lick of sense out of what he’d said before resigning himself to the fact that he was completely lost.

“I like Grease. It’s a cool movie,” he settled on, startling another laugh out of Eddie. He gently lowered Steve’s face onto the carpet and sighed.

“Yeah, it’s a cool movie,” he muttered, leaving Steve for a moment, tossing sheets and a pillow from the sofa to the floor beside him.

“Look, I’m going to stay up and make sure you don’t choke on your own tongue. You can stay here for the night, but I’m not letting you crash until my uncle gives you the thumbs up, weirdo.”

Eddie slid a cushion beneath Steve’s head and draped the sheet over him. Steve was bone tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but the pain in his body was growing by the moment and less favourable memories were leaking back into the forefront of his mind. He watched as Eddie placed a tape into the VCR and sat down beside Steve. It took him too long to realise the film was Grease.

“Who’d you get into a fight with this time?” Eddie asked, seemingly aware of Steve’s sudden restlessness.

Steve didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to.

“Were the drugs before or after?” He pushed, searching for something Steve couldn’t work out.

Again, Steve didn’t know how to answer. Once more, Eddie let it slide.

“You want me to call anyone? A girlfriend... or?” He doesn’t mention Steve’s parents.

Maybe he was at more parties than Steve remembered, enough to know that the Harringtons being in Hawkins was rarer than a blue moon, less frequent than even Steve would admit to.

“No,” Steve grumbled, starting to feel the swelling in his lip.

Eddie nodded and let Steve have his silence. He half paid attention to the flashing lights on the screen, fading in and out of consciousness. Eddie would gently elbow his side each time Steve almost reached sleep. It was a long night, broken only by the opening of a door come sunrise.

The light was too bright, too sudden. Steve shrunk from it curling into the closest point of dark comfort. Steve realised too late he’d curled himself into a small ball, tucking his face into the familiar darkness provided by Eddie’s crossed legs.

“What in the Sam Hill have you gotten into, kid?” Steve heard a gruff voice ask in the doorway. Despite his words, the man didn’t sound angry, more amused.

Steve felt Eddie pull the sheets up to hide his broken face from the light.

“You know when I was fourteen, and I brought home that stray cat?” Eddie asked.

Steve heard a door shutting and the scrape of a dining chair sliding against the linoleum.

“The one that was sick as a dog?” The gruff voice replied. Probably Eddie’s uncle.

“Same situation,” Eddie spoke.

“You’re telling me you found a kid wanderin’ round the trailer park at night and thought you’d bring him home? You remember what happened to that cat, right?” His uncle asked.

“He went missing after a week. Then we found him half-kickin’ curled up in the back seat of the Johnsons’ cinder-blocked Austin,” Eddie muttered, stating the words as though it were a conversation Eddie and his uncle had before.

“And you didn’t leave your room for a week.”

“Your point, old man?” Eddie remarked.

“My point is, I love you, kid. But sometimes your bleeding heart is more trouble than it’s worth.”

To Steve’s surprise, the sheet was pulled off his head. The next thing he knew he was face to face with Eddie’s uncle. The man shone a torch in Steve’s eyes, echoing Eddie’s movements, placing a finger in front of his eyes. Eddie watched in silence at Steve’s side.

“He’s got a pretty bad concussion,” Eddie’s uncle supplied after a beat.

“He was on something when I found him,” Eddie said.

Steve was getting sick of people talking about him like he wasn’t there but in the same vein, he wanted to convalesce in peace. Eddie’s uncle shot him a sceptical look.

“Nothing I gave him, promise. He’s not letting me take him to the hospital.”

“He’s right here,” Steve interjected.

He watched as Eddie’s uncle levelled him under his intense gaze. For the first time since he’d entered the room, he wasn’t seeing symptoms, or a problem Eddie had dropped in his lap but a boy. A kid, in Wayne’s eyes, one that looked worse for wear. It was the goddamn cat all over again.

“I’m going to get you water and some aspirin. Eds, get some rest. No buts, kid you look like you haven’t slept a wink. Should also be safe enough for you to try to get some shut-eye, boy. I’m not Eddie, you can’t bat your eyes at me and get your way. I’m taking you to the hospital if anything happens, right?”

Steve looked at the man with narrowly masked surprise before giving him a weak nod. He couldn’t imagine his parents doing the same, not even for one of Steve’s friends, let alone a stranger.

“Come on, you can sleep in my room,” Eddie uttered, springing to his feet with a joviality that someone who’d gone twenty-four hours without sleep shouldn’t be able to muster.

Steve blinked, slowly standing and gathering the sheets around himself, acutely aware of how ridiculous he looked.

“Keep the door open,” Wayne called at their retreating backs.

That was how Steve spent the summer of ‘85 hauled up and healing at the Munsons’ trailer. A few months later, he’d return the favour. When Eddie went missing, Wayne knew where to look.

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gh0stsp1d3r · 7 days

Text

ℳℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓎

This is so dumb nd self indulgent

Warnings: all fluff, pet names (mama once), dad!rafe

Before the baby, Rafe hated Mother’s Day. The holiday always reminded him of the mother he never had, her death always lingering in the back of his head.

After you, after he held his own baby in his hands, his life changed completely. He was sober, he was happy.

It was your first Mother’s Day as a mother, and Rafe knew he had to make it the best.

So, he called up the pilot to his father’s plane, and arranged a flight. He put all his gifts in his suitcases, stuffing them away into the plane a day before.

You sat on the couch, the tv buzzing on in the back while your baby crawled around, grabbing onto the edge of the table and raising herself up.

You watched her with a small smile, encouraging her to stand up and helping her. When she stood up with your help, you smiled widely, happy for her.

She quickly fell back onto her bottom, a small giggle escaping her. Rafe walked down the stairs quickly, pulling his suit jacket over his shoulders.

“Hey, baby, she stood up again.”

He smiled at you, coming up to the both of you. He gave her a quick kiss on the crown of her head and cupped your cheeks, giving you a kiss.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay.” He murmured when he pulled away.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll see you later, I love you both.” He said, going back to the front door, leaving the house and locking the door behind him.

You sighed as you looked back at her.

“I think your daddy works too much sometimes.” You told her when she looked back at you, attempting to climb back onto the couch with you. You picked her up, putting her in your lap as the both of you watched the tv screen.

——

You fell asleep as soon as you put her to bed, exhausted after the long day. Rafe came home to the lights off and the house silent.

With a sigh, he kicked off his shoes, and his suit jacket, and went into the nursery for a moment. Making sure she was asleep. He put the bouquet he got you on the table in the living room, with a little card under it.

After a little, he made it into the room. He used his phone flashlight as a light, not wanting to wake you up.

He pulled out a suitcase from under the bed as quietly as he could, opening it and looking at your clothes.

He packed them for you, all while doing it silently so you could sleep. He had managed to get Wheezie to babysit for him while you both were gone.

He trusted Wheezie more than he trusted Rose or Sarah with her. She’s 15 now, she could handle the house alone.

Plus, she loved doing it. And she was getting paid, so she didn’t mind too much. Everything was stocked up for her already.

The next morning, he got up early, trying his best not to wake you again as he snuck out the room.

“What are you up to?” A voice said in the hall, making him stop in his tracks.

“Shit. You scared me.” He laughed quietly, seeing Wheezie in front of him.

She smiled slightly, a cup of water in her hand. She began to walk back up to the stairs when he called after her.

“Wheeze, could you actually help me with something?”

—-

You woke up to the smell of pancakes. Odd. You furrowed your eyebrows, wiping away the sleep from your eyes as you picked up your phone and looked at the time.

It was 12! You quickly got up, and made your way into the nursery. But she wasn’t there.

You furrowed your eyebrows, and then you heard a loud giggle come from the kitchen.

You noticed some flowers on the table, picking them up along with a card and reading it.

“Happy Mother’s Day :) come to the kitchen”

You slowly made your way to the kitchen, flowers in your hand. You watched Rafe spoon feed her, a small smile on his face.

You came up to them, Rafe looking up at you and giving you a kiss. “Happy Mother’s Day, mama. I made you pancakes. And all your stuff is already packed.” He said, looking at you for your reaction.

“Thank yo- packed? Packed for what?” You realized, sitting down next to them.

“We’re going to Nassau today. Just me and you.”

“Wait, seriously?” You asked, excitement bubbling now.

“Yeah, we have a few hours.”

“Who’s gonna watch her?” You asked, looking at your baby and back at him.

“I got Wheezie to.”

“Oh, Thank you!” You practically squealed, happy to finally have a break for once. You gave him another kiss, your baby blubbering on as you leaned into the kiss.

#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #dad!rafe #dad!rafe cameron #rafe fluff #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader

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hybbart · 10 months

Text

Day 1904: The spread of sculk is too much to just clean. After salvaging what they could, the ranch is taken down...

Bonus short story below.

Jimmy watched as the last of the house blazed in the twilight. Around the edges of the flames Pearl and Sausage marched, searching for anything flammable that might catch. It was the beginning of winter, and the constant rains had kept everything soaked, but they couldn’t risk it in the middle of the forest. Lizzie had stayed closer as well, securing the last of their belongings to take away in the morning. It was only a few metres down the driveway, but the ranchers couldn’t even get that far.

Tango let out a low growl. His grip on Jimmy’s sleeve tightened, pulling the thick fabric further over his eyes. Puffing up his feathers, Jimmy pulled his rancher closer into his side. Tango only stayed because of Jimmy, and because he couldn’t bring himself to leave the ranch behind. It was what he’d said yesterday, before the first burning. But he couldn’t watch. He could barely help them clear it out before the sledgehammers came in. Sparks flickered through his hair in lieu of tears in his eyes as he kept his face buried.

Jimmy, though… He was entranced. Every crack in the beams that cause a burst of sparks or shift in the wind that billowed the smoke in a new direction. The smoke made his eyes water, but none fell. Maybe he’d finally grown numb. Maybe it looked too different. There was a pile of flaming rubble where his home once was, his first home, but his chest only felt hollow. All that was left with a twitch in his wing, the desire to run and keep far away.

Pity in her eyes, Lizzie approached them from the trailer. Reins were pushed into Jimmy’s hand against his protest. “Take a horse and head back to my house before it gets dark.” She said.

“But-”

“No arguing.” Despite the firmness of her words her voice was low and sad. “You need to sleep in a real bed, Sausage is going to stay here tonight. The last of your things will be fine overnight with us.”

Even after years, Jimmy was never able to argue with Lizzie when she said something reasonable, and he’d given up trying. Jimmy glanced to Tango, who was still hiding from the world in Jimmy’s sleeve. A small tug on his hem was all he got in response. “We’ll be back in the morning with more water.” He assured. They rounded up Bullseye and began the long, quiet ride to Lizzie’s.

By the time they arrived it was dark, the home illuminated from within the kitchen. Though half the house was cloaked in tarps to save unfinished work from the rain, they’d moved into the completed half already. A bit of smart planning on Scar and Joel’s part.

One of the kids must have spotted their lantern, as the door opened before the ranchers could get down from their horse. Tom came rushing up with Revy on his tail. He took Bullseye's reins from them and led him to the cow pen. It was more cramped than it should be, since the rain had flooded the rancher’s outer pastures. Revy whined and licked at Tango’s hand until he gave the dog a weak pat.

Joel shouted something after him before guiding the men inside. “We just started eating if you want to sit down.” He explained as he took Jimmy’s coat. One glance at Tango was enough to answer.

“I’ll grab some in a bit.” Jimmy tried to smile gratefully, but it came out as a grimace. Joel let them be with a nod, hand held out to the hall down which Sausage’s room awaited.

It was colourful, though the furniture was rudimentary, with a mattress stolen from Scar’s hospital. The bed so much smaller than they’d gotten used to, but Jimmy doubted it would matter for tonight. Norman and Flick waited on the windowsill, and Joel had already set up Jimmy’s breathing machine. It took some coaxing to get Tango to change out of his coveralls - which went into a plastic bag to be washed separate - and take off his arm. Even more coaxing was needed to get him to let go long enough for Jimmy to also change. When Jimmy turned back around the blazeborn had Revy wrapped up in his lap instead. The dog’s tail beat against the bed, happy to be held, but whining, nonetheless.

“Do you think you can eat?” Jimmy asked quietly. Tango didn’t respond. He grabbed only one bowl from the kitchen, unsure he could eat much either without it coming back up. Smoke still clung to their skin and hair, dragging them back to the ranch every time it filled their nostrils, but it was much too dark to run a hot bath. Still, Jimmy knew he had to eat something, even if it was in silence.

Tango migrated behind Jimmy at the end of the bed, tail wrapping around the avian’s waist. Its tuft flicking with agitation. Jimmy could feel the heat rolling off his rancher. “It’s not fair.” He rasped.

Jimmy’s wings flattened. “It was an old wood house. It would have had a mold problem eventually unless we rebuilt completely.”

“But why did it have to be sculk!” He snapped, tail sparkling in Jimmy’s lap. Jimmy tried to smooth it down, but it had little effect. “Why’d it have to make it here?”

There wasn’t an answer, not one Jimmy could provide. Maybe Doc or Zed could explain. It was probably in the well and washing into the surrounding water supply now. Would it be washed away? They should have listened to Grian’s worries back when Jimmy’s feathers had been infected somewhere. Or, maybe, back when they’d first found that infested corpse, they should have done something more. It didn’t matter now that their home was already gone. When nowhere felt safe.

His wings itched while his rancher bristled. Tango couldn’t cry, but he was made to fume. “Why aren’t you angry?”

“There’s no one to be angry at.” Jimmy shrugged.

“The stupid sculk! The idiots who let it loose! The world!” The bed creaked as Tango kicked off it to pace the small room. Revy whimpered, shifting his nose into Jimmy’s lap. “It’s been half a decade. It was supposed to get better. We live out in the middle of nowhere. And the end of the world still found us! We build our own home and make our own food and do everything we can, and it still comes and finds us!” The blazeborn was consumed in his spiral. Flames burst like firecrackers along his tail, startling Flick when it whipped past the poor cat.

“Tango…” Jimmy sighed, giving the man a miserable look. When he continued to pace, threatening to scorch their hosts’ possessions, Jimmy finally put a hand up in front to stop him.

A hiss escaped Tango, narrowed eyes glaring at the hand which proceeded to latch onto his shirt and drag him off course. Tango tried to shake it off, but Jimmy kept his hold. “It’s not fair that there’s nothing to fight back against.” He lamented, voice cracking. “I just have to sit here and hope tomorrow it doesn’t get in your wings, or start growing into Revy’s brain, or infest another basement! That it doesn’t get everywhere and take everything. At least the stupid zombie I can punch in the face!” By the end his voice was so shrill and watery Jimmy could barely understand it.

“Me and Revenge are okay. We’re right here.” Jimmy assured, pulling Tango back down beside him.

It made something finally break. Tango curled into himself across Jimmy’s lap, heaving dryly. Talons raked gently through the blazeborn’s hair. Between sobs Tango mumbled incomprehensibly while Jimmy cooed to keep himself from crying as well. There were too many things roiling just beneath his impulse control. If he let one out, the rest would follow, he was sure. So, he focused on Tango. His rancher needed him.

“I don’t think we’d win if it was someone you had to fight, to be honest.” He whispered half-jokingly as the sobs died down.

Tango stilled, then slumped further into Jimmy’s chest. “I could at least try, instead of this.”

Jimmy hummed. Even if they could, Jimmy wasn’t so sure he would in the moment, and he knew Tango wasn’t all that dissimilar. Unlike Joel or the downtowners, their talent was for running and hiding. That wasn’t the point though, Jimmy knew, so he didn’t argue. “What do we do in the spring?” He asked instead.

“… I dunno.” Tango mulled, head tilted out to look at his thoughts. “It’s not safe to rebuild there.”

“Scar has most of the grain safe, and Lizzie has our animals. We could find another plot, there’s plenty around.” Though, most of them had been stripped of their valuable supplies and building materials over the years or rotted away from lack of care. But the land was still good, and they and Pearl didn’t need much room.

Would Pearl stay with them? They’d lived with her much longer than without her – if the time before her arrival weren’t so chaotic, he might not recall so well what it was like without her – but she always seemed to keep her distance. A guest, even after she was given her own room. Having someone there to take care of things even when they couldn’t let them grow the ranch to almost thirty cattle, but without her...

That Lizzie’s family would have their own ranch soon was the only thing that calmed the nervous itch in his wings recently.

“We’d have to move closer.” Tango’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Huh?”

He was no longer curled up, though he hadn’t bothered to remove himself from Jimmy. There was that look in his eyes, where his brain was moving far too fast for Jimmy to keep up. At least it had occupied him with something other than the sculk and fire. “We can’t rebuild around the ranch, we won’t know how bad the infection around it is until next winter, and the water probably isn’t safe. If we rebuilt we’d have to move further west down the mountains towards the city, OR-” Tango raised his hand before Jimmy could protest. “We move closer to the hospital, somewhere around here, or maybe further into the interior on the other side.”

Jimmy clamped up. They’d all had more than a few conversations about this, between them and the hospital, other settlements, and over the radio. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Keep spread out. Far enough that, if something happens, everyone else is safe, but close enough to reach neighbours relatively quick. Like a long chain snaking across the mountains. By now everyone had horses or bikes and access to the recap radio, and it helped them cover more resources. A farm needed land, anyways, especially to keep up with how many people there now were within the network.

That thought seemed too much right now, though. He could feel the ash in his wings turning to lead. Losing the ranch didn’t just affect them. The cattle were saved but almost all their stores were gone, including two cows’ worth of beef that was to be sent out. It would take weeks, if not the whole season, to get things back in motion, in the months they were relied on most. Would people starve? Would the sculk spread from the ranch? It was a responsibility that seemed natural and seamless just weeks ago, but now felt suffocating.

“I’m not sure-” Jimmy finally replied. “I’m not sure I can rebuild the ranch right now.” Flashes of the burning rubble filled his mind, along with that numbness he’d felt. There was at least three months before they could begin, plenty of time to get over it. But right now… “I don’t even know if I want to.”

He expected perhaps a gasp or shouting from Tango. ‘We’re the ranchers!’ Maybe. But the blazeborn, to Jimmy’s surprise, nodded. Laughed, even. “We’ve been running one for years, why’s it feel impossible now?”

It was probably just nerves. Anxiety. In a few weeks it would wear away. But for now, Jimmy leaned his head against the top of Tango’s and entertained other things. “We could move back to the hospital.”

“That’d drive you insane, and Revy would kill Grian.” Tango chuckled.

So would you, Jimmy thought. He was sure if Tango had to see more sculk every day he would lose it. “What about visiting Gem and Impulse then?” He suggested instead. “I heard they’ve been doing a lot of forestry. It might be good to learn from them. Or we could finally go to the coast.”

“We never did make it that far, did we?” Tango recalled. “… Why not both? Go back up the mountain and race back down until we hit the coast. Maybe find some more people outside the recap’s range and bring them in.”

“If they’ve survived this long then I doubt they’d want to move now.”

“They might. Or maybe we can help extend the radio range for them.”

Jimmy smiled. “Maybe we should go east, instead. Find a ranch in the prairies. Be real cowboys.”

“Never been out there, even before all this.” Tango relaxed back against Jimmy, patting his leg for Revenge to come lay across. “You could stretch your wings.”

“That sounds nice.” He admitted with a sigh.

The pair continued to chatter, naming everything and everywhere. Making plans they’d likely never use. Anything to take their mind off the ranch. Just for one night.

#solidaritygaming #tango tek #ldshadowlady #pearlescentmoon #mythicalsausage #rancher apocalypse au #team rancher #fanfic #fanart #bioppunk #spooky #character #scene #background #writing #art #sketch #colour #Hybbart

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fortune-fool02 · 7 months

Text

End of the Day

Shanks x female reader

Summary: After rescuing Luffy from the pirates that caused trouble at the bar, Shanks seeks out medical aid.

Warnings: Spoilers for One Piece Live Action. Fluff

This is my first attempt at writing for Shanks so please forgive me if it's bad. Also, I have only seen the Live Action One Piece on Netflix so that's what I'm aiming for.

Thank you for taking the time to read this! Please reblog and comment as it really means a lot to me. Thank you very much.

Please enjoy.

The cluttering sounds behind her soon died down after a little while, soft rumbles of the sea brushing and lightly scraping against the support beams of the wooden docks and the rocks of land around them filled the air. [Name] stood in the same place she had done since Shanks left to find Luffy. The boy was reckless at times but he had a good heart, a good heart that Shanks had hope in.

Worry gnawed away at her chest, chewing relentlessly since the moment Shanks' rowboat disappeared from her line of sight. She was no stranger to the sea nor the dangers that lurked both beneath and on those waters. The sea was something to respect, in her eyes, as it could either offer you great riches and mercy or destroy everything you spent your life creating in one swift motion; leaving nothing to bury at home.

The light tap of her shoes against the wooden dock was muffled by the hissing waves as she paced back and forth, glancing up every couple of seconds as if the boat would appear out of thin air.

"Come on, Shanks. Please both you and Luffy be alright." She softly prayed, her hands tugging at a loose thread in her shirt, trying to find something to help ground herself and not be swept away in the anxious thoughts that whispered.

What if something happened? What if the bastard who took Luffy hurt him? What if there was a rouge wave or creature that took the boat down? What if-

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as she spotted a speck in the distance. Something lurched inside of her, she grabbed her telescope and peered through it. Her grip shaking lightly but held its focus long enough for her to identify the speck. It was Shanks! He was alright. Relief flooded through her at the sight of his red-hair along with Luffy waving his arms frantically, shouting something incoherent.

Wasting no time, [Name] moved, rushing down the docks further to meet them as they would dock. The closer they got, the more that relief faded, replacing with that bitter concern again. From where she could see, Luffy was trying to row the boat, his movements a little clumsy but determined. Shanks was slumped backwards a bit,

"Help! Get help!" Luffy's voice became more clear the closer he got, stirring the attention of the other members of Shanks' crew. [Name] barely waited for the boat to come to a stop before she was already in it, moving to Shanks' side and looking him over.

"Shanks? Shanks, what happene-?" Her words were cut off at the sight of red on his left arm sleeve. His arm was missing entirely. Luffy clung to the back of her, wrapping his arms around her like she was a mother of sorts. Apologies spilled past his lips, mixed with sobbing.

"Get Shanks inside, now!" She ordered the others, her arm wrapped around Luffy's small, shaking frame in an attempt to comfort him. She would ask what happened later on, she just needed to make sure that both Shanks and Luffy were going to be okay.

The sun was dipping down below the horizon before [Name] was able to see Shanks. He had been patched up and was resting in his quarters on the ship. The man laid on his be, a damp cloth on his forehead to help and the bandages on what was left of his arm stained red. His shirt had been removed away, showing the other collection of scars he held on his body. Each one a brush with Death and yet he still stood.

"Hey, love." His voice pulled her from her thoughts, drawing a soft smile on her lips to hear his voice. Moving over, [Name] set herself on the edge of the bed beside him, her hand immediately seeking his out, interlocking their fingers together and gave a soft squeeze. "How's Luffy?"

"He finally stopped crying and he's fallen asleep, poor boy was distraught." she answered, her voice music to his ears as always. He could see the worry in her eyes with as much clarity as the sun on a cloudless day. He pulled his hand away from hers and reached up to her cheek, gently brushing his thumb along her skin and smiled.

"You okay?" She asked him, gazing down at him with such a loving expression, nuzzling against his touch. He chuckled softly at her question,

"Can't really feel my left arm." Shanks' chuckle grew louder at the look that flashed her face before he leaned backwards into the bed with that same smile she fell for.

"That's not funny, Shanks."

"Then why're you smiling?" He shot back at her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her down to lay beside him. Her body heat more comforting and soothing than the sun could even come close to, and he savoured it at every opportunity he could. Her hand found place over his heart, feeling it beating in a steady rhythm, focusing on it to reassure herself. Shanks was alive. He was alright.

"[Name], it's just an arm." He whispered softly, using his other arm to pull her closer. He was right. At the end of the day, he was alive.

#shanks #red haired shanks #shanks one piece #shanks live action #red hair shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla #shanks opla

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loveemii · 11 months

Text

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐛

Warning: hj, moaning, curse words on ino’s part etc ide have to explain at this point 😭

ꨄ—————————————————————ꨄ

𝑻𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒐:

it’s been a while since you have seen your boyfriend tanjiro since he has been on a mission for abt a week now, and when he did come home he looked beat and tired almost as if he had fatigue.

“Hey Tanjiro how about I run you a bath? You don’t look so good.”

tanjiro sighed and nodded, you knew be was tired but ran a bath for him anyways. after he got in you decided to join him to help cool him off.

as you got in with him he was blushing but to tired to even think about sex. you kissed his cheek and gave him this look he can smell the sense of lust all over you. you reached a hand underwater and began to slowly run up and down his softened cock to get him hard and surprisingly it worked as he was tired.

he gasped a little and held onto the side of the tub as he other hand held onto your wrist and helped you moved to a good pace.

he whimpered a little as you began to move a little faster then slow again while his hand still holding your wrist, her jerked his hips up to get more friction.

“Ah~Y/n~”

tanjiro moaned out a little you ran your thumb up and down his tip as well, your other hand massaging his balls as his breathing began to increase.

as he jolted his hips up into your touch even more he let out this loud airy moan and he gulped before he lowered his hips back into the water, you entry let go as his cock was now soft once again.

“How do you feel?”

you asked as tanjiro caught his breath, he swallowed before speaking.

“Amazing, t-thanks Y/n.”

tanjiro said as he looked into your eyes blushing, you both leaned in and kissed each other’s lips before pulling away.

———————————————————————

𝑰𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒂:

when inosuke came back from his mission he seemed angry, like he had a lot of anger pent up and couldn’t let it all go in battle. you were in the kitchen drinking some tea and put your glass down as inosuke just plopped himself on the couch. you walked over to see if he was ok.

“Ino? A-are you ok?”

instead of answering he just huffed air out of his masks nose, you kinda got the hint that he didn’t wanna talk at the moment. but you knew what always calmed him down. you sat down next to him and you took off his mask as he let you. he didn’t look at you when you did though so you knew he was angry for a reason and that you would talk with him about it later. but for now, he needed to be calmer.

you slowly put your right hand down into his pants ignoring his boxers as you slid right into them and just one touch to his tip and he was as hard as a rock, inosuke tried not to make a sound but he wanted to so bad. you can see that he was holding back.

“Inosuke, why are you so quiet? Can you please not keep it all pent up?”

and just with those few words he was squirming around and bucking his hips up all in which he began to groan as he held on tightly to the edge of the couch.

“Ahh~F-fuck~”

as you kept moving your hand up and down his length you begun to move your hand faster and when you went all the way down his length you occasionally would give a light touch to his balls to get him off.

his pre cum was all over him as he was really wet now while you smothered it all over his hard penis.

“Ino can you cum for me please?”

“A-ahh~Fuck! Y/n~”

inosuke was a mess, he was bucking his hips up high and hard hoping to cum and catch his high soon, and when he did he let out this sigh along with a moan, you moved your hand slower as it was all full of inosuke now, and he began to calm down after having one of the best hj’s he has ever had.

you let out a chuckle before removing your hand from inside his pants, ino caught his breath.

“You ok Ino?”

“Ahuh.”

inosuke said in his tired husky voice, you had to get both your hand and inosuke clean so you ran a bath for the two of you.

———————————————————————

𝒁𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖 𝑨𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒂:

as you opened the door for zenitsu he seemed scared to the point where he was crying, and as soon as he saw you he was clinging right onto your clothing. while you closed the door.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

“No.”

zenitsu sniffled as he said no, you held his hand and walked to your bedroom, you both sat on the bed but zenitsu was crying while you hugged him.

“It was so scary Y/n, there were at least 3 huge demons!”

he shrieked at the thought, you began to think of a way to make him feel better. and it came to you he hasn’t had a nice hj in a while sooo.. you laid him down on your pillow and pulled his uniform pants right off leaving him in his boxers.

zenitsu shrieked once again as you did so, he was blushing like crazy and stuttering like a child learning how to spell.

“Y-Y/n? W-w-what are you d-doing?”

“You clearly need to get your mind off the mission Zen.”

you reached your hand down into his boxers as ran your hand over his length, he gripped onto the bedsheets as he let out a moan that almost sounded like a cry as he was literally just crying.

zenitsu also reached his hand onto his pants and started to rub his balls to help out, he wasn’t shameless but he was still full of blush.

“A-ahhh~”

he moaned out as you moved your hand at a faster pace, he began to move his hips up a little for more friction, not too high. zenitsu began to sway his hips up and down from the bed as he jolted his hips up as well.

“Just let me know when your close Zenitsu.”

you encouraged him, he was close already but wanted to wait a little longer so he moved his hips slower as you did with your hand, he then stopped touching his balls and before he wanted to go on again he groaned as you began to move your hand even faster as he did the same with his hand with his balls, he even jolted his hips up higher and a little harder.

“Aaahh~~ Ohh~ Y-yeah~”

you quickened your pace moving up and down his length even faster as he found a good rhythm, he began to move around in the bed as he was coming close to his high and orgasm.

“Ohhh Y/n~~~”

as he came he let his hips down while taking his hand out of his boxers while you did the same, you leaned down and kissed his lips. he kissed you back sloppy, he pulled out for air as he just finished shooting his cum all over inside his underwear.

“Feeling better?”

“M-mhm.”

ꨄ—————————————————————ꨄ

sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes

- hope you enjoyed :)

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sinfulspencer · 2 years

Text

I just wanna be yours

Prompt: After a night out with her friends, Reader comes home to a very excited Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, praise and degradation kink, dirty talking, pet names (princess, Doctor), light hair pulling, light breath play, light impact play (spanking), breast play (a nice word for titty sucking), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Words: 7.1k

A.N.: Thank you to @sassymoon for beta-reading this.

Closing the door of Penelope’s car, I pushed the skirt of my dress down my thighs as the cold air of the night hit my skin. I felt flushed from all the laughs and dances we had that night, but I couldn’t wait to come home and finally spend some time with my boyfriend.

I needed some time out with my friends. Spencer knew that so he didn’t complain when I told him that, after days of him not being at home because of a case, I had to leave him for a few hours.

I felt bad, but I couldn’t say no to Penelope and Emily. They bribed me with the idea of getting a delicious meal at my favourite restaurant, they knew exactly what they were doing.

After all, a few hours without him did me good - they made me desire him even more, to the point my fingers were shaking as I tried to unlock the door. I saw him when he came home, but Penelope swifted me away before I could give him a goodbye kiss.

Time away from him just increased my desperation to be in his arms, to feel his kisses all over my face and the warmth of his body pressed to mine. It was hard to be away from him knowing that he was at home waiting for me.

Once I finally managed to unlock the door, I pushed it open to find Spencer standing in the middle of the hallway with nothing on but a towel wrapped around his waist. My mouth watered at the sight. I couldn’t get tired of seeing him that way, I just loved every inch of his body too much to get bored of it.

His curls were dripping, water droplets running down his chest and down his body to melt into the white towel.

“Did you take a shower at midnight?”

Ignoring my question, Spencer’s lips twitched into a smile. “You’re all mine now.”

I placed my bag on the couch. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“Do you want it to be one?” - he came closer to me, keeping a hand on the edge of the towel to keep it pressed to his body - “I have no problem in…”

I didn’t let him finish, already dripping with desire for the man completely naked besides that stupid towel I needed to rip off him. Spencer welcomed me in his arms while his mouth allowed mine to cover it, kissing me like he hadn’t seen me in months even though we briefly saw each other two hours before.

I could taste the desperation on his tongue and I knew he could taste everything I craved from him that night, how my knees were already shaking before he could take off one item of clothing I had on. It wasn’t surprising for him, Spencer knew how much I loved him and how good he made me feel just by looking at me.

My hands slipped down to caress his chest, catching the drops of water that stained my clothes. The warmth of Spencer’s skin compared to the coldness of my fingers made him shiver, covering his arms in goosebumps. He didn’t say anything, kissing me back as hard as he could.

I appreciated him being quiet and not mocking me for urging him to undress me.

Spencer had other plans.

His hands never moved down from my hips, they didn’t lift my skirt and they didn’t unzip my dress on the side. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I was ready for anything he was willing to give me.

“You look so beautiful in this dress.”

I whined against his lips when he stopped kissing me. “I’d look much better without it, I promise. Let me show you.”

The condescending laugh that came out from his lips was powerful enough to have me trembling on my own heels. The desperation oozing from my voice was embarrassing, but I didn’t care - I needed Spencer, I needed him to use me however he pleased and for how long he craved it.

I wasn’t asking for too much.

“I’m going to unwrap my welcome home gift by myself.”

Dropping on his knees, Spencer dragged his hands down my thighs. Those beautiful brown eyes stared at me with devotion while his lips pressed to my belly, over the fabric of the dress I wished I wasn’t wearing still.

“I’ve missed you so much, Spencer.”

His fingers slipped underneath the skirt, hooking under the hem of my panties before he pulled them down my legs.

“I had to take a cold shower because of you. I think that’s an obvious sign I’ve missed you too, princess.”

Chuckling, I ran my fingers through his wet curls. “I knew I should’ve stayed at home with you.”

“Don’t worry about it. We have the whole night.” - Spencer said, casting my panties to the side - “And the next few days.”

I leaned against the wall behind me, watching Spencer leave kisses up and down my thighs. His lips felt warm and soft against my skin, sending a rush of adrenaline through my blood. I loved seeing him like that, on his knees for me while caressing my body with his lips - it was so intimate, slightly sexual, and it felt so good.

It felt good to have him back home with me, it felt good to know that I was finally going to be able to have him however I wanted, wherever I wanted without feeling sad or lonely.

“I could get used to having you on your knees for me.”

Spencer gently held up my right foot, placing it on his shoulder. “Let’s see how long it takes me to have you begging me to carry you to the bedroom, shall we?”

“Don’t challenge me, pretty boy.” - I whispered, biting my bottom lip when his hands pushed the skirt up my thighs - “Now you’re not being fair.”

He shrugged, pressing a kiss on my inner thigh. “How so? I just want to eat your pretty pussy on my knees for you, princess.”

It took every ounce of my strength not to talk back because I wanted him to do that, but those dirty words and the look he gave me were almost enough to make me fold and give in to the desperation I felt my body exploding with.

There was something endearing in knowing he wanted to devour me just because he loved doing it. Sometimes he’d have me spread my legs for him on the couch, he’d get down on the floor and bury his face between my thighs just for the pleasure of it.

Spencer had always been incredibly keen in giving me pleasure with his mouth, so I didn’t stop him when I felt his tongue run over the fabric of my panties. With my hands already twisting his curls, I threw my head back against the wall and took a deep breath.

“You’re so wet for me and I barely touched you.” - Spencer muttered, dragging his index up and down the dark spot over my panties - “Now you can’t speak? Did I already make you dumb, princess?”

I whined when his finger casted my panties aside, exposing my dripping heat to his hungry eyes. I didn’t know if I could talk, my mouth felt dry and my brain was completely blank.

He knew what he was doing to me and he had just started.

Putting my foot back down on the floor, I pressed my back to the wall. Spencer hooked his fingers underneath my panties and pulled them down, leaving a trace of kisses from my inner thigh to my knee. Each kiss felt like a burning mark on my skin, rattling my insides and sparking them with desire that overwhelmed me.

It was difficult to talk or even come up with a coherent thought, because all my brain kept whispering to me was “need, need, need”. I was completely lost in my own pleasure, in my own bloodlust for him that I forgot how to communicate, how to talk, how to even breathe right.

And he barely touched me.

However, I was determined to be good for him. I wanted Spencer to know how good and perfect I could act for him.

“So pretty.” - Spencer whispered, pushing my thighs open for him to expose my dripping heat - “So wet for me.”

I shivered at his words, biting my bottom lip. “All for you, Doctor.”

“Ah, you can speak.” - he arched his brow, pressing his index right above my clit - “If you can speak, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Frowning, I turned my eyes away from him and forced myself not to whine in frustration. Spencer knew that I was struggling, he could read my body so well. How could he ask me to speak in a moment like that? How could he ask me to spell out exactly what I wanted if I could barely focus on his voice or his finger?

However, I couldn’t disappoint him.

“Please.. You know what I want.”

Spencer swirled his index over my clit, watching me try to maintain a straight face despite the burning pleasure diffusing through my body.

“I do, but I love to hear that from you as well.” - he explained, leaning forward to leave a kiss right on my inner thigh - “You know your voice turns me on, princess.”

I was slowly, but surely losing my mind. He knew exactly what to say and what to do to have me try and talk to him: bringing him pleasure and turning him on were my favourite activities, so of course I had to force myself to speak.

“I want your tongue, Doctor.” - I felt myself blush at the choice of my words - “I need your tongue between my legs.”

Spencer furrowed his brows, looking up at me. “Sorry, what was that? What did you say you wanted from me?”

I gripped his curls even harder, but I didn’t pull them. He was making me frustrated and he could see it by the way my thighs trembled and my cheeks flushed again, but he was having fun. That cocky grin on his face made everything worse: Spencer knew I could push myself to do what I thought I couldn’t do. He was able to make me talk in the blink of an eye for his own sick pleasure.

And I loved him for pushing my limits.

“Get your mouth between my legs and get me off, Doctor.” - I whined, pulling his face closer to my heat - “I need your tongue inside of me, please.”

Spencer smiled against my inner thigh, leaving a gentle kiss over it. “That’s what I wanted to hear, good girl.”

Finally, his mouth covered my heat as a long moan escaped from my mouth. I could feel his whimpers against myself while his tongue ravished me, praised me, worshipped me to the point I almost closed my thighs around his head. It was easy to have me collapsing and it was even easier for Spencer to have me cry out in ecstasy, his name spilling from my mouth over and over.

He could control me through each motion of his tongue, as I followed his mouth with my hips. I was struggling to hold myself up against the wall, too lost in the pleasure Spencer was giving me with his tongue caressing my clit, swirling over it.

“Feels so good.” - I whimpered, slamming my left hand over the wall - “Fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer loved being called ‘Doctor’ in the bedroom, but using his own name drove him even crazier. It was like a flip being switched, as if hearing his name with the pleasure oozing from my voice turned him into a completely different person.

His tongue became relentless over my clit and index slipped inside of me, pushing deep where I needed him the most. I trembled under his attack but I didn’t quit, I didn’t ask him to get me to the bedroom no matter how hard I wanted it.

I needed to come on his tongue first, I needed Spencer to feel how wet and excited and warm I was for him - to remind him how good I was going to feel once his cock had been buried inside of me, just like how he needed it to.

My hands slipped down on his shoulders as I almost fell forward.

“What, now your legs have stopped working like your brain?” - Spencer didn’t stop his finger from moving in and out of me, talking to me through the pleasure he was giving me - “Is this really too much for you that you can’t even stand up? Now I’m not sure you’ll be able to handle what I’m going to do to you later.”

A curse escaped my lips as I struggled to get back up, leaning with my back and my shoulders pressed to the cold wall behind me. My brain was trying to form a coherent sentence, a reply to those harsh, exciting words - and the tone he used… It drove me almost over the edge.

“That’s it, good girl.” - he whispered, bringing his mouth back between my legs - “You’re so cute when you stop functioning like this. Just a blushing, whimpering mess who can only take what I’m willing to give her.”

His tongue ran over my folds, collecting the mess he created with his own saliva and my essence. I felt my heart beating fast against my ribcage, the blood rushing up to my brain and back down in my lower abdomen.

My fingers grasped his shoulders, leaving red welts in their wake. I had no

“My adorable fucktoy.”

And as soon as the words vibrated against me, the orgasm took over me. I felt my insides melt at the sound of his grunts pressed to my heat and the pleasure expanded through me, burning through each cell. My knees trembled and I grasped the small dresser by my side, scratching the wooden surface.

“Spencer, fuck.”

I couldn’t say anything else.

My mouth whispered a chorus of words that resembled his name, until I was completely spent against the wall. The rocky surface was scratching my back, but I was so lost in my own pleasure I didn’t even realise Spencer pulled away from me.

He was looking at me with those plump, red lips. They were wet with my essence and his tongue was collecting it, tasting it.

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just admiring my partner from down here.” - Spencer said with a smile, teasing me with another kiss on my knee - “This is why I love having an eidetic memory, you know.”

Catching my brain, I looked down at him and met his intense gaze. I wasn’t sure of his intention, but I thought he wasn’t done with me - and I was right, because as soon as I managed to smile at him, his mouth covered my heat again.

That time, without wasting time and without hesitation, Spencer pushed another finger inside of me and pressed his digits against my pulse point inside of me. The action caught me off card as I slammed my hand over the dresser, again.

“Fuck! T-this is too much.”

It was too much.

“Oh, is it too much? Do you want me to stop, princess? I thought you could take another orgasm, since you seemed so desperate to come a few seconds ago.”

Again, that condescending tone spread a warmth through my chest. It was obvious I didn’t want him to stop, I had been waiting for so long to be able to come because of his mouth - or any part of his body.

“Spencer, I can…”

Spencer pulled away from my heat, watching his saliva drip down his hand. “Of course you can take it, because you’re my good girl. And you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?”

I nodded my head with the tears staining my cheeks. “Y-Yes. I’m a g-good girl.”

He cooed, slowing the movements of his fingers down. “Tonight I’m going to give you everything you want. Do you know why?”

My right hand grabbed his wrist, trying to push his hand to go faster. “Because I d-deserve it.”

“That’s right, princess. I’m going to spoil you rotten.”

“Like always.” - I joked, breathing hard when his fingers stroked me again from the inside - “Fuck… I’ve missed you.”

Spencer didn’t need to answer my words. He told me he missed me by bringing his mouth back to where I wanted. His lips wrapped around my clit and he sucked it gently, curling his fingers inside of me just to hear the strangled sound of his name slip from my lips.

I barely pushed my hip forward when Spencer used his free hand to keep me pressed to the wall, moaning against my heat.

“Don’t you dare move your hips, princess.”

My legs started to cramp as soon as Spencer went back to his delicious torture, dragging his tongue up and down my clit while his fingers kept their relentless pace in and out of me. I didn’t want to whine, I didn’t want to get him to take me to our bedroom but I couldn’t stand up.

He was right, I just couldn’t.

“Spencer, s-stop.”

My words echoed in the living room and immediately, Spencer took out his fingers pulled away from my heat.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” were his questions

Shaking my head, I leaned forward. “No, my love. I just… Bedroom?”

It took a few seconds for Spencer to understand what was going on. He stared at me, blinking, but when he realised that my words were showing him that he won, he laughed. He was right, I couldn’t take it. I needed to lay down, no matter how much I loved seeing him on his knees for me.

The sound reverberated through my tired muscles and my throbbing heart, as I joined him by laughing.

“Let’s go, princess.”

Holding out his hand, I grabbed it and helped him get back on his feet. My eyes wandered on the obvious bulge underneath the white towel and I was tempted to remind him of it, but I was pretty sure Spencer was frustrated and needed to touch himself.

He loved eating me out, and sometimes he even came untouched because of it.

His body amazed me everytime.

Unzipping my dress before we reached the bedroom, Spencer took it off and left it on the dresser near our bed. I didn’t wear my bra, a choice that I was definitely going to be punished for the next day, but Spencer didn’t complain when he saw me completely naked.

He had the chance to touch my breasts without wasting too much time with the buttons of my bra.

“You look so fucking beautiful. I can’t wait to ruin you.”

I laid down on the bed, spreading my legs without hesitation. “Then, get back at it. My pussy is waiting.”

Spencer dropped his white towel on the floor, allowing me to get a glimpse of his beauty while my whole body shuddered. He looked absolutely gorgeous with his messy curls, still wet from the shower, and his hard dick begging for my attention, for my touch, for my warmth.

I couldn’t wait to give myself up to Spencer.

Settling back between my legs, Spencer spread my folds with the tip of his fingers and brought his mouth right over my clit. I grasped the bedsheets and closed my eyes, feeling a rush of adrenaline burn through my body.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” - Spencer moaned, pushing his fingers back inside of me - “I could stay here for the whole night.”

I ran my fingers through his curls. “Maybe tomorrow. I need your dick tonight.”

Chuckling at my eagerness, Spencer went back to his actions and focused on my swollen clit. His fingers followed the pace of his tongue around my folds, pushing me closer to my second orgasm of the night. Breathing in and out through my nose, I focused on the vibrations against my core, on the way Spencer pushed his hips against the bed.

He was grinding, he was seeking some kind of friction because he was so hard.

Spencer was hard because he was eating me out. He took pleasure in giving it to me.

I could feel myself slowly drifting off towards the pleasure he was blessing me with, but I wasn’t just there yet. There was something missing.

“I’m going to fuck you nice and well, I promise. I will make sure you’ll feel me inside of you for days. And when you’ll be alone, thinking about me, you’ll still feel my cock fucking your pretty pussy.”

There it was.

Crying out his name in pure pleasure, Spencer nursed the second orgasm out of me with a loud chuckle and that stupid, arrogant smirk on those perfect lips. His fingers stroked me hard and his mouth devoured me, showed me no mercy as I shuddered and whimpered over the bed.

I threw my head back, breathing hard through my nose while releasing all my tension from my fingers into the sheets. I loved when he was cocky and I loved even more when he couldn’t help himself, but to grind against the bed because he craved to see me in pleasure.

“That’s it, princess. Such a good girl for me.”

His fingers slowed down, but he didn’t pull them out. Each time he pressed against my pulse point, I whimpered and he smiled.

“T-Thank you, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet.”

Spencer pulled his fingers out of my dripping heat and pushed them inside my mouth, watching me close my lips around his digits. My taste on his fingers was intoxicating, probably because of the way Spencer was staring at me and smirking because he made me lose the challenge.

We were in the bedroom, my favourite place to be ruined in.

So, in some twisted way, I won too.

“You taste delicious, don’t you?”

I nodded, gasping when his fingers nearly hit the back of my throat. Spencer didn’t move; he just kept watching me as I sucked his digits, making sure I was cleaning them off my essence before he could use them again for who knows what.

He brought his other hand to my neck, watching me as I closed my eyes in hope I’d feel his fingers squeezing my throat. Spencer seemed to understand my silent order and wrapped his hand around my neck, tightening his grip on it.

“Open your mouth, princess.”

His fingers were still filling my mouth, but I did as he asked me to. I opened my mouth and Spencer pulled out his fingers, dragging them down my chest. It didn’t take long for him to lean forward and spit right into my mouth, watching me as my eyes grew wider and my heart started pounding in my chest.

I swallowed without thinking, knowing that he would’ve asked me to do it. Spencer shook his head and brought his other hand between my legs, laying down on top of me.

“So eager to please me. Did you miss me this much?”

I nodded again, bringing both my hands to his face. “Yes. Yes, I did. I came home earlier than usual with an excuse because I needed to be with you.”

Spencer cooed, pressing a quick kiss on my lips. “I can’t believe you asked Penelope to take you home earlier because you wanted my dick. You really are a sweet fucktoy when it comes to me, are you?”

“Yes, Doctor.” was all I could say

I didn’t even know if that’s what came out of my lips, I was too focused on the way his mouth started to travel down my jaw and my neck. Spencer’s hands caressed my inner thighs before he brought them back up, covering my breasts and squeezing them gently.

I didn’t know if Spencer was holding back for some reason, but I needed him to hurt me. I had been good so he had no reason to hurt me, but I needed it - at that moment, I craved the pain shooting through my body mixed with the intense pleasure Spencer has always been able to give me.

I didn’t want Spencer to get mad at me, but I knew exactly how to receive the treatment I was seeking.

“Are you going to fuck me now, Doctor? Please?” - I asked, closing my legs around his waist - “I’ve been so good for you, I deserve your dick. Please.”

Spencer’s nose twitched as he raised my hips so that he could settle between my legs, feeling my desperation drip through every single one of my words. His hands prodded my thighs open and his right one covered my heat, brushing his fingers against my entrance.

“That’s not enough. Beg for it.”

I wanted to smack him behind the head for forcing me to talk when he knew exactly how difficult it was for me to form a coherent sentence. His fingers were teasing my clit, gently shaking my heat and making my legs tremble at the delicious stinging pain that diffused through my lower abdomen.

“Doctor, please ruin me.”

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, almost making me yelp.

“I wanna look wrecked for you. I know how much you love it when my hair is messy and my makeup all smeared.” - I decided to go in the direction I knew was going to get him to fuck me - “Don’t you wanna see me all pretty for you? Your best fucktoy all wrecked because of you?”

Rolling my hips to meet his, I could feel how hard he was getting because of my words, because he knew how much I wanted him and how good I would be able to make him feel.

“I felt so empty all night, that’s why I came home earlier.”

A frustrated sigh fell from my lips when Spencer grabbed the base of his cock and brushed it against my wet folds, still not giving me what I needed. He was being difficult and a bitch, but God did I love that man.

“Please, I need you inside of me. I want to feel so full of you until I can’t think of anything besides the way your cock is stretching me.”

“Such dirty words for such a pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, tapping the head of his cock against my clit - “You really are a desperate fucktoy, aren’t you?”

I nodded with my eyes settled on his face, trying to push my hips forward so that Spencer could hopefully give in to the warmth I could provide him. I grasped the wooden headboard behind my head when I saw Spencer kneeling closer to my inner thighs.

And when I finally felt his cock entering me, I was gone.

Completely, utterly gone for the man between my legs.

A strangled moan escaped my lips as I struggled to keep my eyes open, but I wanted to admire Spencer’s features softening as soon as he was buried to the hilt inside of me. I wanted to see his lips twitch into a satisfied smile, I wanted to see his eyes struggling to stare at me through this blissed-fucked out state we were both in.

I wanted Spencer to feel at home right where he was, inside of me.

“Finally.”

Spencer chuckled, looking down at me and laying on top of me. His chest was pressed to mine, his mouth was leaving kisses on my chin as he took a few seconds to enjoy the position we were in.

He was inside of me. He was at home.

“Yeah? Is this what you wanted?”

I nodded, cradling my hands up to his face. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this ever since I saw you before leaving tonight.”

“Then, I guess I’ll just give you what you want.”

Covering my mouth with a kiss, Spencer towered on top of me and slowly started to move his hips against mine. I could only kiss him back, taking everything he was willing to give me and scratching his shoulders to release the tension already building within me.

His whimpers melted into my mouth, sending shivers down my spine. Knowing he was getting pleasure from my body, made me burn with even more desire than I thought would be possible. There was something ethereal in knowing the man on top of me was feeling good because of me.

“Look at me while I own you.”

His words caught me off guard as I nodded, looking up at him. Those chocolate eyes were showing me tenderness, passion, devotion, love - emotions that I only felt for him and with him.

“Mine.” - Spencer whispered on my lips, sliding his right hand under my thigh to lift it - “All mine.”

“Yours.”

His movements were still slow, calculated and deep exactly how I liked them. No matter how much we wanted each other, we loved to take it slow. We wanted to see our faces melting due to the pleasure, our bodies collapsing against one another before we joined together to reach that state of haziness and bliss we craved.

Spencer grabbed my left hand and pinned it to the mattress, kissing me again. I gave in to the pleasure, pouring my heart and my lust for Spencer into the kiss while rolling my hips to meet his.

However, I wanted more.

Though the loving atmosphere turned me on, I needed more. I hadn’t forgotten the teasing pics he sent me while he was working, so it was time for me to return the favour by teasing him in a way he wouldn’t have appreciated it.

“Fuck me harder, Doctor.” - I whispered on his lips, intertwining my fingers with his - “Or is this all you’ve got? I can barely feel a thing.”

The look Spencer gave me was enough to make me come right there and then. His pupils dilated at the sound of my words and the grip he had on my hand tightened, almost making my heart throb in fear.

“What?”

I raised my hips, closing my legs around his waist. “Can’t you fuck me harder, Doctor? Or are you getting too old for that?”

Spencer took a deep breath, but didn’t pull away from me. Instead, he brought me closer to his body as if he wanted to be inside of me as deep as he could - but we couldn’t get closer than that.

“Turn around.”

I blinked, confused by his request. “What?”

“Turn around, princess.” - Spencer whispered, releasing my calves so I could move - “On all fours, ass up. Now.”

My blood ran cold at his request, but I didn’t dare disobey. After all, I brought this down to myself. I was the master of my own fate, it was my fault he got pissed off - and I loved every second of it, no matter how frustrating he was going to act.

“You think you’re brave enough and that you can talk to me like this without consequences?”

Once I was in the position he requested, Spencer placed both my hands on my waist. I didn’t know what to expect, but definitely not that. I thought he was going to deny me an orgasm, but he was actually denying me the chance of seeing his pretty face.

It wasn’t a punishment.

It was a catastrophe.

“Did you forget who owns you?”

I shook my head, gripping the bed sheets. “No. No, of course not Doctor.”

“I think you did, so let me remind you.”

Spencer brought his right hand between my legs, brushing his thumb over my sensitive clit. I whimpered at the sensation and closed my eyes, feeling my knees already trembling at the contact.

Before I could cry out his name, Spencer pulled his hand away and brought it back in the form of a very light slap. I could barely feel it, but my body responded to the impact with a soft whine.

Then, his left hand left a red mark right below my ass. My skin started to burn just in time for another slap between my legs, making me tingle everywhere. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I loved the effect it had on me - and it certainly reminded me of one of the reasons why I was so in love with Spencer.

He knew my body better than anyone, including myself.

“Spencer, I’m sorry.”

Spencer didn’t care, marking me once again between my legs and right below my thighs. I was positively sure I had marks all over my skin, but I didn’t dare to move. My whole body was on fire and Spencer was right behind me, he would’ve forced me to stay still while I accepted my own fate.

“Now you’re sorry?”

The palm of his hand connected with my clit once again, slapping it slightly harder than before but still gently. I felt it more than the first hit and it felt even better, almost to the point I collapsed on my elbows.

“Yes. Yes! I am sorry.”

Losing the grip on the bed sheets, I fell with my face down on the pillow. Spencer brought me back up with his left hand, forcing his fingers to squeeze the sides of my neck in order to keep me still.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, princess. Now, be a good girl for me and don’t move. You’ll take this for as long as I please.”

I didn’t know for how long he kept slapping my clit and my ass, but I lost count after the first two smacks. I was so lost in my own soreness and pleasure that I forgot how to breathe, how to whisper his name, how to stop myself from falling down on the bed.

My skin was tingling and the stinging pain was bringing me closer to the edge, even though it wasn’t enough. There was something missing and it was obvious what it was, but I never dared to speak.

After all, it was my stupid fault.

“Are you sore?”

I didn’t need to answer, Spencer was staring at the results of his punishment. My skin was covered in red bruises that were going to sting for days and I was a mess, crying tears of frustration and pleasure while sweating because of the tension building up but never being released within me.

Everything felt heightened.

Even the gentle caress over my skin felt like a tongue of fire touching me.

“I guess you are.”

Spencer pulled his hand away and grabbed his cock again, pushing it through my dripping folds. I didn’t know if the position or the slaps turned me on more, but it was probably a mix of everything: Spencer’s grunts, his hands touching me, his fingers hitting me… all at once.

He pressed the head of his cock against me, before dragging it to my clit.

“Spencer, please.”

Helpless, I turned around. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was watching me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I promise, I was just joking.” - I said, hoping my words made sense - “I just wanted you to fuck me harder.”

His gaze burned on my skin the same way my desire was burning for him.

“You should’ve thought about that before pretending to be tough, princess.” - he leaned forward, kissing my bare shoulder - “But I think you’ve understood your lesson now, haven’t you?”

Spencer didn’t give me enough time to answer because he finally thrusted inside of me again, filling me up to the point I didn’t know where I ended and he began. Like two pieces of a puzzle coming together.

I wasn’t sure I deserved to feel good after teasing him that way, but I wasn’t going to reject Spencer’s kindness. No, I needed to feel him come inside of me and own me like he always did.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” - I mumbled, falling with my face on the pillow - “Please, just…”

“You want to come, princess? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

That mocking tone made me shiver as I tried to nod, barely able to lift my head. Spencer took that gesture as a yes and he began to fill me up again, thrusting at a quick pace. I couldn’t even catch my own breath, but I didn’t care - he was doing exactly what I asked, so I couldn’t complain.

I didn’t want to, too scared that he might deny me the pleasure of coming.

Spencer slid his right hand on my shoulder, pressing my body back against his while he buried himself inside of me with a long, deep thrust. I was a puddle of whines and pants, too lost in the pleasure of being owned to care about the pathetic sounds reverberating inside that room.

“Can’t even hold your fucking body up.” - Spencer whispered, pressing a taunting kiss behind my neck - “Are you already exhausted, princess? You can’t speak and you can’t move, you’re fucking pathetic. I thought you could take this and be good for me, but I guess I was wrong.”

My hands immediately flew on top of his, in a desperate attempt to tell him that I could do anything he wanted. Spencer got the memo, but he wasn’t willing to stop degrading me - on the contrary, it pushed him to do his worst.

And God, did I love every second of it.

“You act like you can take my cock, but you’re trembling. You’re just a pathetic princess who thinks with her cunt, aren’t you?”

I whined in response, grasping his hands before he slapped mine away.

“You’re lucky I love you too much to stop right now.” - he said, putting both his hands on my hips - “Come for me, or you won’t get to come at all.”

My whole body shuddered at his words, as if a flip had been switched: the idea of not being able to come after so much pent-up tension made me frown, so I forced myself to reach that peak quickly. It wasn’t difficult, Spencer trained me for that task: each time he would ask me to come, my body would follow his order and bring him the satisfaction of knowing he was the only one who could make me do this.

And like all the other times, I came with a loud sob.

The sounds were muffled against the pillow, but Spencer seemed satisfied. My body was gripping his cock like a vice and I knew he was close. Despite my muscles clenching hard around him and my brain completely shutting down, I could still feel him twitching inside of me.

“That’s it, so responsive for me.” - Spencer cooed, nuzzling his face against my neck - “So warm, so tight around my cock. You really missed me, huh?”

My arms were trembling and so were my thighs, but I didn’t dare to move. My muscles were on fire, but Spencer deserved to feel good - he deserved to come inside of me, to make me his every single time he had the chance to.

However, he didn’t agree with me that night.

“Even if you missed me that much, princess, you don’t deserve to feel me come inside of you after what you said.”

I grasped the bedsheets, whimpering a ‘no’.

“Only good girls get to be bred. And you were not one of them tonight.”

And just like that, Spencer pulled out while a loud groan fell from my mouth. His warm essence spilled all over my thighs, right between my legs but not where I wanted him the most. The frustration mixed with the dizziness of the orgasm I experienced were too much, as I collapsed onto the bed.

Spencer whimpered as he touched himself, finishing where I didn’t want him to. I didn’t need to turn around, I knew he had that arrogant, cocky smirk I loved to see painted on his lips.

“You should see the mess I’ve made on you, princess.”

‘Bitch’ was the only thing I could say, hiding my face in the pillow and squeezing my thighs together as I felt his cum drip down on my skin. I hated not being able to feel him come inside of me, that was the worst punishment he could ever give me - however, I deserved, I knew it.

But… that didn’t mean I would stop pouting, or I wouldn’t get my revenge.

“How about I take a picture, so you will remember what you did tonight and what the results were?” - Spencer asked, giving me another kiss on my bare shoulder, and he jumped off the bed to grab my phone - “I know you’re pouting!”

I didn’t move, waiting for his return. I was pouting and I wasn’t going to stop until I felt his warm come inside of me.

Spencer finally came back and I barely saw the flash when he took the picture. He leaned forward and helped me turn around, before giving me a love pinch of my waist. Every muscle in my body was hurting and I was exhausted.

“Oh, don’t pout. You know it’s not going to work with me.”

I stared at him, covering my naked body with the bedsheets. “You… bitch.”

“Am I the bitch?” - Spencer asked, raising his brows - “Are you sure it’s me?”

I threw on him his own pillow, hiding my grin. “Yes. You.”

He frowned, leaning forward. “I don’t think I’m a bitch, I’m just fair. You, on the other hand…”

Spencer kissed my forehead and laid on the bed, keeping a hand over my belly and the other one under my cheek. He was looking at me, making sure I was okay after we just did - but I was more than okay. I was deeply satisfied and sexually blessed.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

His nose bumped against mine. “You did so well for me tonight.”

I struggled to move my arm, but I managed to place my hand on his cheek. “Thank you. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“You bruised my ego, but I guess I needed it to be extra rough with you.” - Spencer replied, chuckling when I rolled my eyes - “Listen, I know you like when I’m rough but it doesn’t come natural to me. It does when you taunt me and you do.”

“I got what I wanted.” - I answered, giving him another kiss on the lips - “I can’t believe you picked the worst punishment ever.”

He traced a circle around my belly button, before sliding his hand between my legs. “I know I can make it better, if you let me.”

Spencer didn’t need to ask.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Doctor.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid nsft #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid nsft imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x you #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic

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yourstrulybluelover · 3 months

Text

Title: Heat 2

Pairings: Na’vi Reader (23) x Neteyam (24)

Warnings ⚠️: MDNI

Contains: oral, p in v, rough sex,

Word Count: 1953

You find yourself drenched in sweat, letting out groans of discomfort, with your back pressed firmly against the tree trunk as you pull your knees towards your chest. Leaning heavily against the tree, you bury your head in your knees, familiar waves of heat washing over you once more.

This time, you're isolated, the distant bickering of the two brothers echoing in the background. A pang of guilt strikes you; you were meant to be hunting, not the subject of their disagreement. You despise being in a vulnerable position, the center of attention, especially when it renders you unable to take control of the situation.

“Bro, we can’t just leave her here while we get help.” Lo’ak muttered under his breath, peering behind his brother to catch a glimpse of you.

"We both run the risk of being captivated by her pheromones," Neteyam mutters angrily, the echoes of your moans engraved into his mind.

“Boys-“ a sudden static like sound erupted from the comms.

“Dad! Where are you?!” Neteyam blurted out turning away from Lo’ak. “It is Y/N is uh- she’s not looking so good, we gotta get her home or well away.”

“What’s wrong?” Jake’s voice could be heard but broken, interrupted by the static.

“She’s in heat.” Lo’ak said, pressing two fingers to his throat, still peering at you. This time you’re bent over in pain. Drenched in sweat everything clung to your skin. Your body was getting hotter, almost feverish, when your eyes met his, looking at him longliy to take this pain away.

He quickly averted his eyes to Neteyam.

“Dad, you gotta hurry.” Neteyam expressed.

“Don’t do anything stupid! Lo’ak start a fire, I’ll search for the smoke from the canopy tops.”

Neteyam glared at his brother.

“Fine, I’ll go make the fire Neteyam, but you need to check on her, you can’t just leave her there.”

“Fine.”

“Brother she’s missing.” Said a slightly panicked Lo’ak.

“What do you mean missing? You lost her?”

She’s not there but we can track her.

“How?!”

We can smell her.

You navigate through the forest, seeking the nearby stream you had previously marked. Your sole purpose: finding something to alleviate the heat that threatens to induce hallucinations. The gentle murmur of running water grows louder as you draw nearer. Eventually, you reach the stream's end, where it widens into a shallow creek, ideal for a refreshing soak at knee height. Stripping off your garments, you brush bits of leaves from your scorched skin. Finally alone, you take the opportunity to relieve yourself before embarking on your return journey. Although you should have informed them, you realize you're only minutes away from where they are. Now unclothed, you step into the creek.

The frigid water now soothing your azure skin, you rest on the creek bed, leaning against its edge with your knees drawn close to your chest. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as the cold water brushes against your nipples, riling you up once more.

Without hesitation, you sprawl yourself to reach to touch your sweet spot. A moan escapes your lips, while you lean your head back onto the mossy green grass, you hair sticking to bits of your cheeks, and shoulders. You’re a flushed mess, with your hands now rubbing and thrusting yourself, while the other tugs and pull at your nipples, you moans grown louder as you’re desperate to make yourself cum. Your movements quicken as you aggressively thrust into yourself, bucking your hips above water when your eyes suddenly shoot open at the snap of a twig.

You stop as you realize you’re being watched. The brothers had found you, their green eyes glowing among the foliage of the forest. It didn’t them long to find you, your scent was overpowering and pungent, but your vulnerable state was so captivating they couldn’t look away.

Upon realization, your mind wanted to hide away in embarrassment but your body refused to stop. You continued to pleasure yourself, now one hand on your clit and the other in your sopping hole. They gawked as you laid there in the creek sprawled, Lo’ak looked down to see himself growing under his loincloth, he growled under his breath, jaw clenched. He wanted to have you so badly.

“I need to help her.” He said huskily.

"No, we found her. Go light the fire," Neteyam commanded his brother, who stubbornly refused to move. "Now!" he insisted.

Lo'ak huffed in annoyance before finally turning away.You continued to moan in pleasure as you feel yourself coming. Throwing you head back exposing your neck. Neteyam couldn’t help but trail your body with his eyes.

A fleeting sense of calm washed over you, but you could sense it wouldn't last long. The respite just didn't feel the same when it was Lo'ak who brought you to climax. As you glanced up, you noticed Neteyam standing among the shrubs, closer to the creek, silently observing you, attentively listening to every sound. “Nete, please, I need you.”

He scoffed. "You want to try the other brother now? Lo'ak wasn't good enough?" Taken aback by his cold response, you stood up angrily, water dripping from your naked body.

“Is that what you think of me now?” you huffed, “fine act righteous then, like you weren’t thinking of fucking me moments ago.”

Within moments, Neteyam growled, storming towards you as you rose from the shallow creek, challenging him with your defiance, in your naked glory.

Neteyam snatched you by your neck, hissing exposing his fangs. You smirked. You knew his reaction was not out of disappointment but more of jealously. You looked down to see his boner, causing your smirk to grow.

“Looks like you still wanna fuck me,” He releases you from his hold when he realizes you can readhim.

That's when your scent intensifies once more. His eyes grow darker, and hooded, now scanning your care body, you observe him in his current state. He was always calm and collected, hardly showing emotion, but today, right now, you felt so proud to be the source of his riled up behaviour.

“Nete-”

Before you can finish his name he turns towards you crashing his lips onto yours. Taken aback slightly you stumble back into the water. His hands roam you touching every crevice and curve of your body, you instantly kiss him back. Feeling the heat returning once more. His lips leave yours to now abuse your neck, moving lower to your breasts and soon he is kneeling in front of kissing your navel and trailing his nose down to your bud.

You stop. Your eyes meet. You’ve never seen him so hungry before. Still kneeling in the shall creek while you stand before him he tosses your leg over his shoulder, grabbing your ass to stabilize you while your other leg remained sanding on the creek, he tugged at your folds with his tongue.

You gasp as the sudden touch, your body going numb as all the blood rushes to your clit. He starts off gentle but soon is aggressively sucking and lapping at your cunt. You moan, as you grab a fist full of his braids, pressing him further into you as he devours you.

The knot in your stomach grows and he now hums satisfactorily as if he could sense that you’re near. He suddenly stops, looking up to you, and your eyes meet. You gasp as he now plunges his thick fingers into you, curling upwards to send you over your edge. Within seconds your juices are spraying as you scream his name, al while he just watches you. Loving the control he has over your vulnerable state.

“Don’t worry y/n, I’m not done with you.”

In one swift motion Neteyam pulls you on top of him. Straddling him, you can feel his thick member pressing against your bare cunt shielded by his loincloth. You’re bodies slightly submerged by the shallow creek, he states as you intensely before he bucks his hips up. You wince as the friction slowly starts to rile you up, your clit, begging for more.

Another buck, you breath hitches, your mouth forming a small O as you begin to redden from embarrassment. Aware of this, he leans back, bracing his back to the edge of the creek moving his arms to cradle the back of his while he takes you in. His breathing is definitely faster, and his eyes are darker but he is determined to show you he is in control regardless of how enticing you smell.

His self control is rather humbling as you catch on of his game of cat and mouse. Yes, you both are biologically compelled towards each other but he is determined to make you beg. He moves harshly again, and then shift once more, each movement making your core grow hotter.

He huffs at your state “looks like you want me to fuck you y/n” he smirks.

You snapped. You needed to get off again and you need to get off now. You hover over him sightly ripping his lion cloth off. A flash of shock surfaces on his face. His bulging member springs up as you take it and grasping it firmly at the base. Your sudden roughness makes him groan at your touch. As you pump his member you lean in for a kiss to which Neteyam does nothing. Keeping his movements still he watches you as you lean towards him. Your lips slightly pressed against his and he is overtaken b the tension. Like an animal snapping back into a trance, Neteyam passionately presses his lips onto yours. You moan into the kiss as you pump his cock. He grabs you firmly by the waist causing you to grip onto his shoulders for stability. Breaking the kiss he lifts you over his throbbing veiny cock before he mercilessly plunges his full length into you. It sends shockwaves through your body as he stretches you. He hoists you up once more to only slam you back down onto him. Your eyes roll back as he repeats the motion you legs soon begin to tremble.

“How does it make you feel y/n?” he whispers huskily now, pressed up against you his fangs grazing on your collar bone. You moans growing louder.

“Goood.” You hum.

“Do I fuck you better?”

You say nothing, you continue to hum, you can hear the squelches that come from bot of you. He does feel bigger than his brother, much more girthier, he also seems a bit more experienced, which was rather shocking, giving that Lo’ak was known for his philandering ways.

He stops suddenly. And now you’re mindlessly bouncing trying to fuck yourself, but he grips onto your hips firmly. Stopping you from moving. You refuse to stop movement as you circle your hips, whining on his member. He gasps, you can tell he is also near.

“Neteyam pleasssee.” You beg.

“Not until you answer me.” His hand now griping onto your face, causing you both to lock eyes.

Desperate for more you breathed out a heavy yes.

“I didn’t hear that y/n”

“YEEESSSS! You fuck me bettteeerr!” you screamed grinding into him.

“He loosens his grip, now digging his hands into the sandy creek, he fucks you form under, pounding into you mercilessly. You throw you head back, making your back arch, and your perky breast bounce. Within seconds your cumming, and soon after he follows, your juices mixing together as he groans in pleasure .

“AHEM, so much for not doing anything stupid.” Lo’ak remarked.

You look up to see the other Na’vi standing among the foliage. “Dad is on his way.” His jaw clenched but voice remained indifferent. You both spring off of each other attempting to clothed yourselves. An all too familiar feeling for you. You sighed wondering what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Soooo I took a while to get this done annndd iduno I backtracked on the two boys but I’ll definitely do a part 3 with both of them. Sorry if I disappointed anyone. 🙈❤️💃🏽

@shadowmoonlight0604 @mashiromochi @luvteyams @erenjaegerwife

#avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #avatar way of water #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak smut #loak sully #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #jake sully #loak x y/n #lo'ak x tsireya smut #smut #lo'ak x fem!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #loak x you

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ashonheavenscloud · 26 days

Text

crazier things || h. hyunjin

: a drunken confession from your friend, hwang hyunjin, leaves you questioning everything a week before your transfer home.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader, college au, friends to ??, INTENSEEE ANGST, mutual pining, two idiots and unfortunate circumstances </3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 14.6K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, mildly suggestive content and a toxic relationship (hyunjin x oc), this whole fic is kinda heavy and angsty😭

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: this was written WAYYY back in 2021 and posted on my other account, but i’m moving it here to keep all my fics in the same place🤣 this is the longest oneshot i’ve written and i’m quite proud of it. enjoy!

now playing - crazier things - chelsea cutler

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Hyunjin was drunk, you knew.

That was the only explanation for why he would call you at such an ungodly hour as 2 am, slurred words barely audible in between the loud music and cheering crowd that joined his voice through your speaker.

It had been awhile since he’d called you at a party- but definitely not long enough, you thought a little frustratedly. But you were mostly worried as you drove to the address you’d managed to coax out from the drunk boy’s babbling.

He was falling back into bad habits as the peak of winter approached and snow had yet to fully take its leave from the suburbs of New York- and it didn’t help that finals were approaching, and he was clearly stressed.

And that girlfriend of his putting way too much pressure on him.

Yet another worry as you pulled up to the house, music booming from the place as you hurried to where Hyunjin was leaning in the yard, no girlfriend in sight.

He hadn’t brought her, and he hadn’t called her- again.

“Hyunjin!”

It took a couple shouts of his name over the crowd for him to look up at you, and you felt a tiny bit of relief at seeing him somewhat alright.

“Y/n-” his attempt at walking over was short lived, as he stumbled with a giggle and you rushed to catch him.

The weight of his body made you sigh, grunting out, “Stand up, we’re going home.”

“Home? What home, not home.”

He barely made sense, but you understood. “Not your girlfriend’s, I promise.”

He slowly nodded, dazedly blinking as your words processed. “Okay.” He mumbled, voice small.

“Just… just take a rest here, okay?” You murmured back, as you dragged the boy from the crowd and found an unoccupied bench by the side of the road to sit him on. Quickly, you pulled a plastic water bottle from your bag and handed it cap off to him. “Drink.”

He did as he was told, and with your gentle help he downed a good quarter of it. Sighing once more, you plopped onto the bench beside him, suddenly very weary.

Hyunjin was drunk- very drunk. He had to be, when he slid closer to you on the bench, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy from the aftermath of the college party and the alcohol. That was the only explanation; for why else would three forbidden words suddenly tumble from his dazed, plush lips?

“I love you.”

Your eyes jolted to his face; his eyes were flickering closed, a small intoxicated smile on his face, his fingers finding the edge of your sweater sleeve and tugging at the material. He clung to you, smile slowly widening as he chuckled; and all you could do was stare at him, heart racing and sinking all at once.

You really might have been able to brush it off as some false drunken claim if he had stopped there, or if you’d had the courage to speak and lead the conversation away. Lead it somewhere safe, somewhere that didn’t blur the already complicated relationship you both found yourselves in- the very messy situation you should have gotten out of right at that moment.

But he didn’t stop there.

And it sounded so genuine when his head lolled onto your shoulder and he murmured, “Ha. I’m so in love with you, and you don’t even know it.”

He was drunk, you had to repeat to yourself multiple times as you drove your black Civic through the busy neighborhood streets, occasionally glancing at his sleeping figure in the passenger side. He was completely still, save for the small breaths that made his lips pout ever so slightly. With a start, you realized he was still gripping your sleeve.

And you were suddenly scared.

Because I love you too, Hwang Hyunjin. And I think maybe you meant it.

…

When it came to alcohol of any kind, Hwang Hyunjin was a lightweight. It barely took him a couple swallows to be completely wasted- and the day after was just as bad.

He groaned when he opened his eyes; despite the blinds being closed, the tiny streams of light around the edges sparked a massive headache. He closed his eyes immediately, his small glance around the room enough to assure him that he was safe- and, once again, had been stashed in your bedroom.

He didn’t remember getting here at all. God, how many shots had he taken? He’d sworn to keep it to a strict limit. What kind of alcohol had it even been?

Groggy but guilty enough to get up, Hyunjin forced his eyes open again and stumbled out of the bed. He was sweaty and nauseous, but hey, you’d seen him worse. Upon leaving the bedroom and stepping into the living area of your studio apartment, he was met with the sight of you passed out on the couch.

You’d probably been exhausted after helping him out last night.

Another wave of guilt ran over him. He didn’t usually drink, but when he did you always seemed to be the one cleaning up his mess. Hyunjin vaguely remembered calling you part way through the night- although he couldn’t recall any of the conversation. Once again, though, you’d had his back.

He approached as quietly as his heavy feet could manage, and crouched beside you. A light blanket was half draped off your figure, and your face was smashed into a pillow. He watched your expression, noticing the crease of worry in your brow and gently massaging it away with a sigh.

He was stressing you again. He hadn’t meant to; and at this point, his guilt was overwhelming.

He decided to let you sleep, feeling he at least owed you that. He fixed the blanket, tucking in around your shoulders before stumbling away to the kitchen. First he found a bottle of Advil and downed the pill, before checking in your fridge for any food. Eggs and toast was manageable, right? He wasn’t the most experienced cook but he could damn well try.

Almost subconsciously, he peeked behind his shoulder to look at you once more. Your forehead was wrinkled with worry again. Even though he felt bad, he couldn’t help but think about how cute it was. But to be fair, you were always cute.

So damn pretty.

You suddenly shifted and Hyunjin whipped his head back to his cooking, heart pounding and ears flaming. Focus on the food, Hyunjin, he scolded himself.

But that image of you curled up behind him couldn’t leave his head as he cooked, no matter how hard he tried. He shouldn’t be thinking of you so much, especially not now- with you here, and with the symptoms of his hangover a bitter reminder of the trouble he’d caused you. Especially when each new thought definitely crossed the friend line.

After meeting you at the university library, your phone numbers had been exchanged- and oddly enough, you’d been kind to him. Kind to the boy close to failing half of his classes. Kind to the boy with a reputation of trouble. Kind, even after the first party you’d stumbled upon him- and he’d been drunk then, too. And somehow you’d started being the one person he could really talk to, and the one person that his intoxicated brain thought to call.

His reminiscing was interrupted by movement, and Hyunjin glanced back again to see you groggily sitting up, blinking open bleary eyes, the cutest yawn scrunching up your features. He caught himself smiling ridiculously, just in time to hide it before your eyes found his own.

There were the worry lines again.

“Are you okay?” You asked him quietly, standing and approaching him. Against his will, his heart thumped a little faster.

“Yeah. I guess.” Hyunjin responded, watching you survey him, eyes checking him for any sign of damage.

It seemed you didn’t find any, because after a minute you sighed. “Good.”

You reached to yank him closer by the collar of his button up, nearly making Hyunjin lose his balance as another wave of dizziness greeted his senses. Either you didn’t notice or you didn’t care; probably the latter, because you were shouting, and you looked mad.

“What the hell? You scared me half to death, you told me you were going to stop doing this!”

“I… I know.” Hyunjin weakly replied, but he didn’t have time to add anymore when you came at him again.

“You said you wouldn’t go the next time, at least not alone- and the next time, and the next time, and on and on. I’ve been covering for you, rescuing you from parties and bad dates for the past year. But I’m gone next term, and I’m not going to be here to save your sorry ass anymore.”

As if he needed the reminder of your transfer. As if he hadn’t been thinking about it since the day you’d told him last month.

“I’m sorry, really.” Hyunjin murmured, meeting your eyes to try and convey the honesty in his words. “It’s unfair to you. I don’t know why I call you every time, but… it’s not fair.”

There was silence, and oddly enough you seemed a bit caught off guard. What? Because he called you, even now? But then Hyunjin realized at last your close proximity, your nose almost touching his, your warm breath on his face. His eyes widened.

You jumped back, and Hyunjin ducked away at the same time, heart doing back flips as he tried to regain his composure, glancing at you. You, the calm and sensible one, the out of reach one… flustered.

Was it possible for a heart to swell with foolish hope, at the same time it shriveled with an undeniable sense of guilt?

But before Hyunjin could figure it out, you were running to the stove, shouting at the smoke that billowed from the eggs that Hyunjin had forgotten about. The moment was dismissed in the scramble to clear the smoke and discard of the burnt eggs, relieved that at least the toast turned out okay.

And once the toast was buttered and on plates, you turned back to face him. You opened your mouth, hesitating for a moment before quietly saying, “What are you going to tell her this time?”

You didn’t need to say who. Hyunjin bit into his toast, with no desire to answer the question. You sighed, but thankfully didn’t push it.

He didn’t need to hear your thoughts to know what you were thinking while you silently drizzled honey on your bread. Why are you with her if you always need to lie to her?

Because I don’t deserve any better. And I certainly don’t deserve you.

He avoided your eyes as you chewed on your toast, gathering enough courage to timidly ask, “I really am sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do.” Hyunjin argued, watching you sigh and drop the toast onto your plate. “I broke my promise-”

“And you’ve apologized. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“But that’s not enough.” He whispered, watching you turn your gaze to the floor, expression unreadable. It was so often that he couldn’t figure out what you were thinking, and he’d pay every penny for your thoughts. You gnawed on your lip, and Hyunjin wondered if you might not answer. At last, you lifted your head to meet his gaze again.

“Okay, how about we just say you owe me?”

Hyunjin breathed a sigh of relief, glad you had relented. “That’s more than fair.”

“Okay.” You rubbed your temples- from stress or tiredness, Hyunjin couldn’t tell. “Good.”

Another ‘sorry’ almost slipped from his lips without thinking, but Hyunjin managed to bite his tongue. He knew that another apology would only frustrate you. But it still echoed in his head, the guilt that swam there even as he watched you tie back your messy hair, heart fluttering endlessly.

He was a mess.

“I… guess I should go.”

“I can drive you.”

“No, I can walk. I have work today.”

You whirled to stare at him. “Today?”

“In an hour, actually.” Hyunjin replied, wincing at the very idea of the headache he was bound to suffer through today. The intense smell of flowers in the shop probably wouldn’t help, either.

You were silent for a moment; Hyunjin didn’t want to break the quiet himself, so he simply watched you harshly bite your lip again before you stepped closer. Once again, his heart stumbled as you neared.

Gingerly, you reached towards him, and Hyunjin subconsciously closed his eyes as your fingertips grazed his forehead, then massaged the area between his brows.

So you weren’t the only one stressed. He hadn’t even noticed; but he did find himself slowly relaxing under your touch.

When he opened his eyes, you still looked worried- but a small smile flickered on your lips.

“So you’re going to show up to work in that?”

Oh. “How bad is it?” He asked, sheepishly.

“You stink.” And then you had your arms around him, carefully resting your head against his shoulder as you pulled him close. The rare moments you did this, Hyunjin never knew how to react to your affection- but it did send his mind spiraling, his heart dancing and leaping in his chest at your closeness.

At last he let his cheek fall on your head, letting a minute pass before whispering. “Thank you… for everything.”

Was it his imagination, or did you hug him slightly tighter? “You’re my friend, and this is what friends do.”

Yeah… it’s what friends do.

Bullshit. You’ve gone above and beyond the requirements of friendship.

You pulled away from him, and turned quickly- he noticed the small tinge of redness over your ears but was too tired to question it. His headache, though dulled, was slowly returning.

“Go shower.” You told him, heading towards your bedroom. “We’ll figure something out for your work clothes.”

He nodded, murmuring another small thank you before ducking into your bathroom, towel in hand. He paused in front of the mirror- gosh, he really did look like a mess.

Just like how he felt.

When he stepped under the cold water, splashing his senses awake, his thoughts ran a different way. He recalled leaning against your head; your hair had smelled like citrus; he’d sworn you’d held your breath.

7 days. That was all he had left before you were gone.

…

The distance between New York City and Los Angeles was exactly 2789 miles.

You knew this because the number had been dancing through your head since the moment you’d realized you would have to move back home to California to study.

Stupid finances. Your tiny apartment was fairly cheap for its Lower Manhattan location, but it still sucked away at your funds- funds you didn’t have. At the beginning of the term, it became apparent that unless you found money fast, you wouldn’t be able to stay.

Praying for a miracle had turned out to be hopeless. Your parents, having never approved of your moving away, hadn’t offered any help. Your bitter old manager refused to give you a raise, and no other opportunities presented themselves. In the desperate last stretch, you’d taken on different gigs- tutoring, walking dogs, cleaning houses, anything you could think of- but it wasn’t nearly enough. With a month left of the winter term, your only option became evident.

You signed the forms, you received the email of congratulations! You would be attending the University of California in the New Year!

Hip fucking hooray.

Oddly enough, Hyunjin had been the first to find out. The same day you’d received the email, you’d run into the boy at the university library. Where you’d usually be able to mask a smile, fake some kind of emotion to keep him from suspecting anything was wrong, you hadn’t had the energy.

Was that considered irony? The first person to know- to comfort you, to offer you support- would be your hardest goodbye.

When was it that you’d fallen for him? You couldn’t pinpoint between the sharing of homework answers- you were both English majors- and those moments at a cafe or that beautiful library when he seemed to be the only spot of colour left in your graying life. He had the unique ability to make you forget about all your worries and troubles even just for a few minutes with a single smile- a smile so kind and genuine and warm that it felt like an embrace on its own. Meeting him had been like… finding the first crocus in spring, and knowing that the frost was fading at last. It had been hopeful; somehow knowing this person standing in front of you would touch your very soul.

And he had- in so many ways. Ways he probably didn’t realize in the moments he’d surprise you with coffee on a cold morning, or let you borrow his gloves when you forgot them. He’d touched you so deeply that you’d found yourself slipping into daydreams far too often with him involved- and with no girlfriend in sight.

The girlfriend was actually a recent development; Ava had come seemingly out of nowhere, apparently another English student that Hyunjin had taken out a couple times. Ava herself wasn’t too bad- but you still found her a tad single minded- and too invested in Hyunjin’s academics. The boy didn’t always have the best grades, and she had no reservations when it came to reminding him. Maybe she meant well… but sometimes you really did want to slap her.

For more reasons than just that.

She’d come along just shortly before you’d found him at one of his parties, dead drunk with vomit still damp on his shirt. He’d touched your soul in a different way then, and you’d never forget what he’d said to you as you’d tried to drag him out of your car, and his weary eyes found yours.

“Do you know how to float?”

“What?”

“Float. Like, not drown.” He mumbled something that you couldn’t hear before saying louder. “I drown. I drown a lot of times, even though I got everything I need to stay up. I was given those… like, those floatie thingies, but I just poke holes into them.” He clumsily pressed an index finger to his side, tapping several times. “Poke. Poke. Poke. And then I drown.”

You tried to figure out something to say, but came up empty at a loss for words. Hyunjin had only chuckled bitterly. “Grades aren’t everything, right? What a bunch of bull-”

You’d held his hair away from his face as he vomited onto the grass. As he wretched, your mind spun; this beautiful, sweet, outwardly confident boy… was just as much a mess as you.

Perhaps everyone was a mess, and some had just gotten very good at hiding it.

Now, sitting on your couch as the sun sank lower in the sky and turned the horizon into violent shades of orange and red, your mind spiraled back to one thing.

I love you.

Ha. I’m so in love with you, and you don’t even know it.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get messier…

You shifted in your spot, glancing at the half eaten carton of food on the coffee table as you recounted your morning with Hyunjin. Why had you hugged him? You were supposed to be mad at him- but you just couldn’t be for long. You knew how hard he was trying, and that he beat himself up enough for the both of you. And anyways…

You didn’t want to waste your time being angry at him.

The hug itself had felt like magnetism- one minute you were watching him with a small smile of endearment, and the next your arms were around his waist, pulling him close. He'd been so comfortingly warm; you’d been able to hear his heartbeat in your ear, pounding a rhythm much too fast to stop you from wondering…

I love you.

You stood abruptly from the couch, snatching the carton of food and stashing it back in the fridge. You needed to stop thinking about this; you needed to clear your head.

It was bitingly cold outside, tiny snowflakes drifting through the chill air that buzzed with noise. You’d always liked how busy it was here, even at night. You didn’t understand it, but something about how awake the world was at ungodly hours made you feel more alive, too.

You hurried down the sidewalk, keeping your hands in your coat pocket to stay warm, burrowing your chin into the patterned scarf around your neck. You let your feet carry you any which way, no real destination in mind. Music poured from the doors of small cafes and busy nightclubs still ablaze with life. You contemplated stopping at one of your favourite coffee shops, even if just to sit and drown in the warmth, but passed by with a shake of your head. You were too restless.

You forced your mind to wander to other worries as you walked- like the upcoming winter exams. Classes ended tomorrow, and the following four days were filled with studying and the actual exams. Then the morning after, you’d be gone.

It felt surreal. The month had flown by underneath a looming shadow, and you swore you’d missed several weeks. Granted, you’d been busy- often studying with Hyunjin, or working your ass off at your job. But only the sleepless nights had felt long- the rest had passed in the blink of an eye.

You couldn’t deny how attached you’d grown to the city in your time here. As much as you’d loved your home city, New York had a certain feel to it that fed into your very soul. You’d never been able to pinpoint why; you only knew that if it had been possible, you might have never wanted to leave.

For more reasons than one.

But now it seemed unlikely that you would find the funds to come back. Even the price for a visit… you didn’t want to imagine a price.

His smile haunted you. The first real friend you’d made. The one you’d hopelessly fallen for, and now found yourself in an impossible position.

There you go again, you realized with a jolt. Thinking of him.

You stuffed your hands in your pockets, forcing your mind elsewhere. The apartment complexes in front of you, the bubbling laughter from a nearby bar, the rumbling of car engines as the lights flickered from red to green. The tiny shops on the corners, and the takeout places to the left. Ah, I liked that sushi place. Hyunjin loved it too.

And it was obvious when you rounded the next street corner, eyes turning upwards as snow fell heavier around you, that walking hadn’t helped anything.

Except to make you feel even lonelier.

…

Classes ended on a solemn note for Hyunjin. He didn’t miss a single one of his teacher’s judgemental glances in his direction at the last chime of the bells. He certainly didn’t need them to tell him that most of his grades were currently sitting at dangerous spots- and these upcoming exams would be extremely important.

He needed to pass.

Whispers followed him in the halls. He didn’t miss their glances, either, as a group of students passed.

“He’s not even trying- doesn’t he know others would kill to be in his place?”

“Seriously, he received enough bursaries for me and my sister to attend a year of college.”

“He’s just a pretty face, no brains.”

He ducked out of the hall, desensitized to the phrases he was used to hearing. They’d batted inside the back of his head since he was in high school, and it had been his parents saying the same things.

Just a pretty face.

His parents had been the ones to ensure his place at the university, complete with bursaries to keep his finances well taken care of. They had connections, see, and had high expectations for Hyunjin’s future. Too bad they had such a disappointment for a child, he thought bitterly.

Still, it was easy enough to let the words pass from one ear and out the next. He’d heard them enough times that he was almost numb to them. Almost.

Hyunjin sighed as he readjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and hurried down the steps away from campus. He had work again, and he couldn’t dawdle. He already owed his coworkers enough; Seungmin, a fellow student, had been kind enough to lend him an extra shirt for his last shift, and he didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

Luckily, the shop wasn’t too far. He arrived a few minutes early, greeting Felix- a younger boy with blonde curls and heaps of freckles on his cheeks- with a small smile as he ducked inside the warm shop, a pleasant contrast to the bitter cold outside.

“You beat me.” Hyunjin panted, pulling off his coat.

“The Professor let us out a few minutes early.” Felix explained, busy arranging a basket of flowers with careful precision. “Where are the scissors?”

Hyunjin crouched behind the counter, digging through the bottom door to find a pair of scissors and hand them to the boy.

“Thank you.”

“Hey!” This was Jeongin, a younger kid whose parents owned the shop, appearing from one of the back rooms with a cardboard box filled with labelling cards. “You’re out!”

“Except for exams, yeah.” Hyunjin agreed, fondly ruffling the boy’s hair. He pulled away, shaking away his hand.

“Hey, you were at that party yesterday, weren’t you?”

Hyunjin hadn’t expected that. “Yeah- yeah, and you were?”

“We both were.” Felix sliced a red ribbon and tied it carefully around the handle of the basket. He stepped back, smiling as he admired his handiwork before adding. “We thought of stopping to talk, but…”

“You looked wasted, dude.” Jeongin finished, setting the box on the counter before turning eyes to Hyunjin.

The long haired boy shifted his feet under Jeongin’s gaze. “I… might have had a bit too much to drink.”

He turned to pluck his apron from the peg on the wall; Felix chuckled behind him.

“Good thing y/n was there. That’s who it was, right?”

Hyunjin avoided looking back, clumsily tying his apron. “Yeah. Why?”

“Nothing, just…” his voice trailed away.

Now Hyunjin glanced back, frowning at Felix’s hesitation. He looked a little… apprehensive? “What? What happened? Did I do something-”

“Oh, nothing bad.” Felix chuckled, his worry crumbling enough to ease Hyunjin’s shoulders back to relaxing as he turned away again. Until Felix added. “It’s just that you told her you loved her.”

Hyunjin froze with his fingers still pulling the strings tight. The words echoed in his head- taking a moment to process before the gravity of what Felix was saying took hold. He let the bow fall slack, turning slowly to face the two boys. “What?”

“She sat you down, gave you water and then you told her you loved her.” Jeongin laughed, clearly finding this very amusing.

But Hyunjin found this anything but funny. He’d said… to you…

Was that why you’d been acting weirdly? Wait, more importantly- did that mean you knew he’d meant it?

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Jeongin shrugged. “You were drunk, people say stupid things all the time when they’re wasted.”

Right. You had to think that.

Right?

“You must have been pretty drunk to forget, though.” Felix picked up his basket, nudging Hyunjin on his way past. “Hey, don’t worry about it too much. I’m sure she doesn’t care.”

Did you care?

That was the question that circled Hyunjin’s brain as he ducked away, finding recluse in the storage room to think. He’d told you- actually told you to your face- that he loved you. Sure, he’d been drunk, but he’d still said it.

Did you care that he’d said it?

He cursed his foggy memory, that hadn’t clung onto to that moment. He had no idea how you’d responded- he had no idea if you’d brushed it off or not. And he had no idea what to do now that he knew vaguely what had happened.

He recalled your flustered state yesterday morning; the tinge of red on your ears, the tenderness of your eyes when you’d looked at him…

And his wild thoughts desperately hoped that maybe, maybe that meant you loved him too.

Could it be possible? He’d wondered before, but never with much hope; only a hopeless romantic’s dream of gentle kisses and shared smiles and tight embraces that he figured would only ever exist in his imagination. And after your announcement of moving back to California, even those hopeful thoughts had disappeared. His time had run out- long distance relationships never worked out anyways, and that was even if you’d wanted one. And if so many other things didn’t stand in the way.

“Hyunjin?” Felix’s head popped through the door, his features twisted into a frown. “It’s your girlfriend. You left your phone on the counter- she wants to talk to you-”

Shit. “Tell her I’ll call her back.”

“Ah- okay.” Felix pulled out again, and the reality of his living world fell back on him like a heavy weight.

What to do now? Nothing.

He would go home. He’d call Ava, maybe find a distraction. And he’d try his very best to forget again.

5 days. He had a lot to worry about in the next little bit, that was for sure.

…

It was another two days before you saw Hyunjin. You’d promised to study with him before the exams, arranging a meeting at one of the nearby libraries in the afternoon to pore over notes and books and cram as much knowledge as possible into your brain. As usual, you arrived earlier than Hyunjin and found a free table to set up for your study session- including a few small muffins to feed your appetites.

But today was already starting out much different than you’d intended. Once seated, you had the time to wait and realize that you were oddly nervous to see him.

In fact, as the minutes ticked closer to 3 o’clock, you swore there were butterflies dancing inside of you.

Gosh, you needed to get a grip. He was the same Hwang Hyunjin as he’d been before that drunken confession- unavailable and unreachable. This changed nothing.

But when you spotted him walking towards you with his navy backpack slung over his shoulder and black jacket making him look way too cute, you knew it changed everything.

“I brought coffee.” He smiled as he slid into the chair beside you, plopping two drinks on the table- Americano for him, steaming cup of Espresso for you.

“Thanks.” You took a sip, relishing the taste and praying the hot liquid would drown those stupid butterflies as you flipped open your first notebook.

“Well, we can’t have a future famous journalist low on caffeine during exam season!” He exclaimed with a teasing grin- and you felt relieved that he seemed to be in at least somewhat decent spirits.

“If I get through university.”

“You will.” Hyunjin assured, sounding so confident you glanced at him in surprise. He just smiled at you. “I believe in you.”

What was it about those words from his mouth that made you feel ridiculously flustered? Those butterflies had evidently survived the coffee. You quickly spoke to hide your sudden shyness. “Well, don’t neglect your own caffeine then.”

“Ah.” His smile faltered, and you caught it easily. You didn’t need to ask to know he doubted his ability to pass. With a firm exhale, you pressed his coffee closer to him.

“We’re both going to smash these exams. Okay?”

Slowly, Hyunjin nodded and released a tense breath. “Okay.” He replied softly, lips curving upwards slightly. “I mean, with you as my study partner how could I not?”

You slowly grinned, tossing your hair dramatically. “Aren’t you lucky to have me?”

“Very.” He giggled, but the sincerity in his eyes still reached you- and you didn’t quite know what to do about that, so you cleared your throat.

“I suppose we should get started.”

You waited for Hyunjin to pull his books from his bag; his long dark hair fell before his eyes as he bent down, and you tried not to care too much about it, and the urge to run your fingers through it. At last he plopped his textbooks and scattered notes onto the table with a sigh. “Right.”

But looking over notes and exchanging questions proved to be more difficult than you’d expected. From the get go the atmosphere felt different; electric, and noticeably so. It was nearly impossible to concentrate for reasons beyond you- was it lack of sleep that made your eyes wander to watch Hyunjin flip a page, take a sip of his coffee, or mouth words to himself? Time was hazy while you couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized by the small furrow of his brow, the bright focus in his eyes. You’d always thought he was absolutely stunning, but today it was harder to ignore.

You shook your head slightly, scolding yourself to get a grip. You turned back to your pages, eyes glaring at the notes you’d scribbled about Pride and Prejudice and War and Peace without really soaking any of it into your brain.

An hour passed slowly. You worked mostly in silence, occasionally exchanging thoughts and points and sipping your individual drinks. You helped him with a few of the analyses and quizzed him (quite distractedly). The muffins were devoured in no time, the chocolate taste lingering on the tip of your tongue as you worked away for another hour. You thought you might be going brain dead when Hyunjin suddenly laughed.

You looked up quickly, confused. “What?”

“Wait, did you do that?”

He was pointing to his notes and with a start, you realized there were small drawings in the margins- doodled eyes and flowers and flames and whatnot. Your expression broke into a smile as warmth flooded your chest with the memory.

“You fell asleep and wouldn’t wake up. Remember, when Professor Watson was giving that speech about-”

“Provision and prosperity.” Hyunjin groaned in remembrance, before looking back at the pencilled designs. “I never noticed these.”

His fingers traced the outlines of the sketches, a faint smile pulling at his lips. His eyes held an undeniable fondness that had your heart doing back flips as you attempted to return to work.

But damn, he was so distracting. You couldn’t help but look back at him, still intently focused on your drawings. You once again had the urge to brush the loose strands of his dark hair behind his ear, and maybe kiss the corner of his gentle smile-

Then his eyes glanced your way- shit-

He opened his mouth, but you blurted with cheeks flaming, “Are you cold? It’s freezing, isn’t it?”

Ha. Lies, you felt like you were burning alive.

Hyunjin softly smiled. “You’re so silly, why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

You shrugged. “I don’t live too far, I had a hoodie and it’s not that cold-”

Suddenly he was sitting back shaking off his jacket. Your heart stammered and your breath caught at the sudden closeness as he turned to face you, leaning forward slightly and sliding his jacket over your shoulders.

“There.” He murmured; his eyes met yours as he paused his movements.

Yes, there it was. Electric.

He pulled back quickly, grabbing his pencil and turning his gaze away. Thankfully so, because it was that moment that your fingers curled around his jacket sleeve and heat swam to your face- it smelled just like him. Dark musk, with a slight hint of something floral.

“Thank you.” You managed at last, bending your head to look back at the book and away from the boy before you could make eye contact again- and he might notice the intense blush painting your cheeks.

He hummed in acknowledgment, scratching something down with his pencil. Otherwise it was tensely silent, leaving you room to wonder why, why, why did you pick the library? It was like your senses were on high alert in the near complete stillness of the room, your every nerve absolutely focused on Hyunjin’s small movements, the smell of his jacket, the faint brush of his knee against yours under the table; again you were drawn to slowly look at him, and with a jolt you realized he was staring back.

His words echoed relentlessly in your mind. I’m so in love with you, and you don’t even know it.

You couldn’t pull away this time, like your gazes were magnets with an unstoppable attraction. You searched his eyes, hoping to dig through the emotions in them and find answers. Had he meant it at all? His lips were slightly parted, and it took every fibre of your self control to stay still in your seat.

What are we even doing here? You silently screamed. It feels like torture, but I can’t stop wanting you.

Hyunjin’s phone chose that instant to buzz on the table, lighting up with a caller ID you recognized before Hyunjin picked it up. Ironic, for her to be the one to interrupt… whatever the hell that had been.

“Ava?”

Her voice crackled from the speaker, but you couldn’t make out any words as Hyunjin hummed into the phone. “Yeah. Okay, sure. I’ll be there soon.”

With his gaze no longer on you, you slumped back in your seat, feeling rather foolish and small. Were you just reading into things? He had a girlfriend, after all.

A girlfriend he never talks about. A girlfriend he doesn’t seem to trust.

Did it matter?

Hyunjin turned back to you, and you had trouble meeting his eyes again- this time, for a reason unknown to you. “Sorry. Ava…”

He didn’t finish, and you couldn’t help it when you looked up and asked. “Do you love her, Hyunjin?”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he seemed taken aback. “What?”

You merely swallowed, kind of wishing you could brush away the question. Where had it even come from? Curiosity? Jealousy?

Hope?

Hope for what? You damn idiot, none of this matters!

“No.”

It echoed in your head and it burned in the way that he looked at you when he said that; like he needed you to know that, like he’d been begging for a reason to tell you. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. Still, you ignored all the warning lights in your brain and all logic of your situation- because yes, it didn’t matter- and you pressed on anyway.

“Then why…”

“I don’t love her. I never did, and she knows that.” He murmured, completely unreadable as he closed his textbooks. “We just both needed someone when we felt especially lonely. That was the agreement all along.”

Your throat felt suddenly dry, and no words found their way to your tongue. Speechless, you sat silent as Hyunjin watched you, completely unreadable.

And what now?

Shit, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

You needed to process, to clear your spinning head. But you still felt frozen in your seat.

Luckily Hyunjin spoke first. “You can keep my jacket. I guess Ava’s coming to pick me up. Don’t worry about me, okay?”

He stored his books away, and finally a bit of sense returned to you. “Ah, okay. Get home safe.”

He half smiled in your direction, then almost seemed to hesitate stepping away. That small hesitation nearly broke something in you, but you remained firmly in your seat.

“Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight.” You whispered, and let him walk away.

3 days. 3 days that would feel like an eternity and a second all at once.

…

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around himself, shivering from the cold as he scanned the parking lot for Ava’s vehicle. He quickly spotted the maroon coloured Sedan, and jogged towards it. As he approached, he could make out her figure through the glass. Her thick curls and wide eyes, which turned to meet his own when he knocked on the window.

“Hey.” She gestured and he slipped inside, buckling his seatbelt as she started the engine.

He nodded back, asking, “You said you needed me?”

“Yep.” She raised an eyebrow in his direction. “And you sounded less than happy about that.”

He had, hadn't he? He bit his lip, trying to figure out what to say- but he didn’t even know what the problem was.

Hyunjin’s relationship with Ava was almost as complicated as the one between him and you. He’d met her several times in class, and then outside of class for a casual coffee. She was bold, and although a little pushy, she was one of the few students who didn't seem to resent him. When she’d suggest a kind of ‘friends with benefits,’ he’d been surprised to say the least- and his first instinct had been to say no. After all, he was well aware of his feelings for you then, so why would he agree to sleep with Ava?

But one day, after a particularly dismal week, you found him at a party far more drunk than he usually was. It was the first time you’d helped him- and when he took a look at himself in the mirror the next morning, he knew. He couldn’t do this. You already had your own problems to deal with- you didn’t need the weight of him and his feelings on your shoulders, too.

Was that dumb? Maybe. But Hyunjin had agreed to Ava’s offer, and the rest was history. He’d been honest from the beginning about his intentions, confiding his affection for you to her to make it clear that he wasn’t looking for anything more than casual sex. And it didn’t happen often- only when both of you were particularly stressed- but soon enough word had spread. Ava and Hyunjin, a couple.

Like every other rumour, he let the words pass through him. Except when it came from you- then it hurt more than he’d wanted to admit. But if that’s what it kept to hold himself back, he could find a way to push aside the pain.

Still, he’d never felt as guilty about it as he felt today. For some reason, the idea made him feel… wrong. Maybe because of what he’d said to you at the party. Or maybe because of whatever tension had lingered in the library just minutes ago, and he’d almost thought he might…

Hyunjin didn’t realize he’d fallen silent, drifting into thought until Ava nudged him back to the present.

“Sorry-”

“It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin looked up, as Ava pulled into the lot connected to the first few dorm halls. She turned off the engine and turned to look at him, dark eyes void of emotion. “Y/n. That’s why you’re hesitating today.”

Hyunjin wet his lips and opened his mouth to speak- but he couldn’t find the words. His mind still felt muddled from your earlier question.

“Do you love her?”

Why had you asked him that? And why had he told you the truth?

“I’m… just not up to it today.” Hyunjin responded- since that was technically true. “And I have to study some more.”

Ava didn’t say anything for a minute, just stared at him. Hyunjin felt an odd frustration boil up inside of him, although he was unsure where it was coming from. “You can’t ask me to-”

“I’m not.” She replied, pulling the key from the ignition and shrugging. “It’s your choice. But you know it doesn’t matter, right?”

Hyunjin couldn’t look at her as he spoke, fingers clutching the door handle. The car was beginning to feel suffocating. “It’s just friends with benefits. No strings attached.”

“Hyunjin… it’s never been that simple.”

His eyes jolted to find hers, staring at him intently. He noticed the nervous tapping of her fingers on her thigh, and the tiny crack in her facade in the depth of her irises. It’s never been that simple.

She… “Ava-”

“We could be good together- actually together.” She exclaimed, crossing her arms and looking away. He thought he caught a flash of desperation in her eyes. “Everyone believes it already-”

“I never meant to lead you on-”

“You didn’t.” She shrugged again, but Hyunjin was starting to think her indifference was her type of armour. He knew about that all too well. “But think about it. She’s leaving, and then what? Long distance? How long do you think that would last? If she even wants you.”

Hyunjin was frozen as the words pounded inside his brain, a chorus that he was all too familiar with, the things he quoted to himself. Ava was right, as much as he hated to admit it.

“I-” his grip on the car handle tightened as he tried to stop the trembling of his body. “I can’t.”

Ava merely sighed and waved him out of the vehicle. He clambered out, shutting the door behind him quickly. But she rolled down the window anyway and told him, “Think about it.”

He didn’t know what to say- his heart just ached, and he needed space. “See you.” He murmured, turning quickly to leave.

It hurts. Everything hurts.

Ava called after him, her words clinging like a shadow as he walked away. “Whether you’re willing to accept it yet or not, she’s going to be gone soon- and then I’ll be all you have left.”

…

It was actually a relief for Hyunjin to have the upcoming exams to occupy his mind and suck away most of his free time. If not for the constant distraction he had from the diminishing time you had left in New York, Hyunjin wasn’t sure what he would have done. Already he thought of your departure far too often for his confused and aching heart. Two days, that was it, and he was completely torn in every way concerning you. Only one thing felt certain; there was no way to stop this. You were leaving- and you were leaving for good. Hyunjin held no power to stop it. Ava’s words flooded his brain, too, but he was determined not to dwell on that. He had more pressing things right now.

He could only watch as your last day dawned, flooded near full with exams. Hyunjin carried his worries with him even as he completed his tests, mind having trouble focusing at first when he spotted your hunched figure in one of the seats. You didn’t look his way, but he could still see the tiredness in your gaze, lack of proper sleep evident in the dark circles that were like bruises under your eyes. He chewed absentmindedly on his lip until the overseer cleared their throat, glaring at Hyunjin- the exam had already started.

From there, he tried his damned hardest on each task. He wasn’t confident by the end- but then again, he never was. When he at last handed in his paper, one of the last students in the room, he found your figure had disappeared.

It was just as well, he decided. His next exam was the most important to do well on. You’d only serve to distract his mind.

Yeah. So why do I feel so heavy?

The next exam, somehow, passed smoothly. Maybe last minute panic and pressure had helped with his focus, or maybe you really had been quite the study partner. But by the end he was cautiously optimistic that he had gotten a decent score.

Regardless, leaving the university grounds was extremely relieving. At least now he could leave this burden behind- he’d done his best, and he supposed the rest was up to fate now. The day was cloudy and warmer than yesterday- maybe even warm enough for rainfall to replace the snow. He sent a silent prayer against it, and hurried down the sidewalk.

His dorm had never felt more welcoming; Hyunjin dropped his bag in the entrance and promptly collapsed onto the nearest surface- his couch- with a heavy exhale. His eyes closed, a headache stinging at the edges of his brow.

And here his thoughts of you resurfaced. The horrible realization that you were leaving tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

It felt surreal, like a dream he’d wake up from soon enough. Reality would return and you’d be staying, finances taken care of- and Hyunjin would be better, the hollowness in himself somehow filled. No problems, no worries; just the two of you, strong and whole enough to face anything the world could throw at you.

“If only.” He whispered to the empty room, returned only by dull silence.

He couldn’t just sit here, or he would go insane.

He was seeing you off tomorrow at the airport, but the time that stretched until then was sure to be agonizing. He wondered if he’d be able to sleep. He wondered if he would be able to bear the steady march of time; sixteen hours to go.

His hands itched to grab his jacket and run out the door to find something heavy to drink. He wanted to drown his dread and anxiety in bouts of alcohol, the feelings caged in his chest threatening to shatter his rib cage with its pressure. Instead, he stood abruptly with a resolute shake of his head, heading for the kitchen. If he just kept himself busy, he would be okay. He wasn’t about to show up at the airport with a raging hangover. That wasn’t fair to you and was hardly how he wanted his goodbye to be.

Goodbye.

His fingers twitched. Hyunjin blew out a breath and pulled a package of ramen from the cupboard.

Fifteen hours and fifty-eight minutes. He ripped open the package and set to work.

…

You had one more exam than Hyunjin; you took it later in the day, late in the afternoon. Your previous exams had all been haunted with the shadow of your approaching departure, and you’d desperately pushed them away. You’d had a tough sleep the night before, which didn’t help your already foggy brain, but you were still fairly optimistic as you stepped out of your last exam room. Tests were your forte, something you’d always excelled in. Even the opinion essay hadn’t proved overly difficult. You were almost cheery as you walked away from the school grounds.

Almost.

At the main gates, you turned around and simply watched. Students huddled in groups big and small, laughter carried by the wind as celebrations ensued, grateful for exams to be over. A light layer of snow glistened over the ground, melting around the edges; a sparrow hopped over its branch, carefree. Your smile faded as your eyes trailed the area, every building, tree and person.

“See ya, I guess.” You murmured, absentmindedly tapping one of the gate’s stone pillars. The first of many goodbyes you’d face today. Already you felt heavier.

Your feet dragged slightly over the sidewalk as you trudged in the vague direction of your apartment. A couple students waved and shouted farewells, but none of them were close enough acquaintances to offer anything more. You stopped off by your work on the way home, and it was almost relieving to have a final farewell. It was like tying everything up; exchanging thank yous and good lucks that made it a little easier to smile as you found your way to your apartment afterwards. Upon entering the silent space, however, you felt your smile fade as your mind wandered to your most difficult goodbye.

And Hwang Hyunjin, you certainly aren’t making it any easier.

You busied yourself with packing, stuffing all of your belongings into a large suitcase and travel bags. Accompanied by gentle music and the fading light outside your window, you felt slightly more at ease. Slowly your flat was emptied- the only food, a few cartons of Chinese food and sushi, was quickly devoured- and your bags were ready by the door for the following morning. A last sweep of the rooms later, you flopped on the floor exhausted.

By now, the sky had darkened significantly. The lights of the city stretched out to the horizon, a faint golden glow rising from the busy streets that rushed on without a care in the world. As if one of its residents wasn’t seeing this view for the last time.

And here they were; tears that filled your eyes and blurred your vision of the rising skyscrapers and bustling cafes below as you pressed your fingertips to the cold glass of the window. Damn. You shook your head when the first tear slipped over, wiping your eyes. You would not spend your last night crying. If you had to leave, tonight would be one to remember, you were determined.

But how? How, when the hole inside you felt so vastly empty? You swore nothing could make you forget it. Hell, nothing ever did.

Except…

You sat up straight with sudden clarity. Maybe you did know exactly what you wanted tonight.

Maybe it’s foolish. Maybe it’s selfish.

But even if it was, you couldn’t help it. Shit, Hyunjin. You couldn’t begin to understand the grip you have on me.

Your phone was out of your pocket in an instant and before you could chicken out, the line was ringing. You waited, breath held, for several tones before… click.

“Y/n?”

You’d never been more happy to hear his voice. You swallowed, fingertips sliding down the glass. The city really did look so pretty tonight.

“You owe me, remember?”

“Anything.” He replied, and the genuine care in his tone nearly broke you. You blinked back more tears as you struggled to answer. LA would be so lonely without him.

Your voice was quiet when you at last spoke a little shakily into the speaker. “Can I come pick you up?”

…

When the phone call ended, Hyunjin’s mind flew into a frenzy.

As soon as you’d asked him, he hadn’t hesitated to say yes. He didn’t need a reason to see you- but now that you’d hung up, and the silence of his empty apartment greeted him, he began to worry.

It was very unlike you to call out of the blue like this- and request to see him instantly. Was something wrong? Had something happened? He quickly changed into something nicer- a red button up and black jeans- before anxiously waiting in the lobby downstairs, coat in his arms.

The minutes seemed to stretch on for ages before he finally spotted your car pulling into the parking lot. He hurried out the door and jogged towards your vehicle, greeting you first by your rolled down window.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, breathing heavy from his short run.

“I’m sorry this is so sudden- I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, slow down.” Hyunjin stared worriedly at your face; you were trembling and almost as out of breath as he was. “Take a breath.”

You nodded and inhaled slowly, before blurting out, “Let’s go somewhere. I want my last night here-” you swallowed roughly. “I want it to be special.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Hyunjin timidly took your hand and squeezed it. “Where are we off to then?”

You smiled then, and Hyunjin wished he could capture that moment in his brain forever- the way your eyes softened around the edges, and he could almost feel a bit of your stress melt away. “Get in and you’ll find out.”

Whatever little luck brought you here to me tonight; thank you.

And his heart hammered a little faster as he took his spot in the passenger’s seat and realized that for your very last night in New York, you’d wanted to spend it with him.

“Alright.” Hyunjin strapped on his buckle. “Ready.”

You glanced sideways at him, and a little grin pulled at your lips. “What do you say to sushi?”

…

Of course Hyunjin held no complaints about ordering from your favourite sushi place, and in no time you were wandering the streets of New York, sharing a large tin of sushi rolls. You’d abandoned your car in favour of walking, and it was oddly easy to forget about your upcoming departure in Hyunjin’s presence. For now, at least, you were with him and you could pretend that it could last forever. You fell into a natural rhythm quickly, even down to the last piece of sushi that you- of course- fought over.

“It’s my favourite kind!” You whined, as Hyunjin laughed and held the tin out of your reach.

“I’m sacrificing my evening for this.” Hyunjin teased, as you rolled your eyes. He laughed, making you smile grudgingly before he lowered the tin and offered it to you. “I guess you can have it, though.”

You made a point of enjoying your last piece as Hyunjin discarded the tin and you moved forward again. Your eyes observed the busy city with its towering skyscrapers and buzzing cafes and the nearby park. It was still weird to you how quickly this place had grown to feel like home.

You noticed Hyunjin watching you, and raised an eyebrow in his direction. He simply shrugged with a bashful smile. “Everything’s really pretty tonight.”

You nodded, ignoring the sudden urge to hold the boy’s hand as he walked beside you. You crossed the street while fighting the tug in your chest, before resolutely stuffing your fist into your coat pocket. “Look at the fountain.”

Both your eyes turned to observe the bubbling fountain as students and couples and friends balanced on the stone ledge surrounding the clear water. It was oddly quiet today as you trailed behind Hyunjin to stand beside it. You watched him stare at the water, a small smile on his face.

“Remember when you fell in-”

“Yeah, you promised never to mention that again!” You exclaimed, smacking his arm as the boy laughed.

“You asked me to take a picture, but when you turned to pose-” he was giggling uncontrollably now, and you couldn’t help but smile at that. “You tripped and fell-”

“I got soaked, and the water was freezing.” You replied indignantly, as Hyunjin settled on the ledge as his laughter subsided. You joined him after a minute, and all was silent again.

“We used to make wishes in the fountain, too.” Hyunjin murmured, almost too quiet for you to hear. “But I don’t think I have any coins now.”

You turned your head so you could see the water ripple with the next gentle breath of wind. “Maybe we’ve run out of wishes.” You whispered.

Was it the dim lighting, or did Hyunjin have faint tears in his eyes? But then he blinked and they were gone, and he was standing. He gestured away with his head, smiling. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else.”

You stood, looking down each of the paths. Each one held memories that you’d shared with your classmates and various acquaintances- and more than any of them, with Hyunjin. You didn’t know if you had the willpower to move yet.

“It’s okay.” You tilted your head to look at Hyunjin, who smiled gently at you before looking back at the scenery and adding, “Take your time.”

His thoughtfulness always caught you off guard. Again, you felt the urge to take Hyunjin’s hand in yours. It was nearly unbearable because he didn’t even notice your struggle, still staring out at the park grounds.

Ah, what the hell-

Before you could lose your nerve, you grabbed Hyunjin's hand and quickly intertwined your fingers with his. His head whirled to face you, eyes wide as they stared at your hands locked together. You braced yourself, half expecting for him to pull away. Instead, he squeezed your hand lightly and smiled before joining you in watching the bustle of the park one last time.

Maybe you were only making this harder for yourself- for the both of you, even. But his hand in yours felt so good in this moment that you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

…

Hyunjin could tell how difficult this was for you, even before you’d stopped by the fountain.

He wondered if he’d been in the right for bringing up the incident- but you’d been smiling, and that was what mattered tonight. Helping you to enjoy that last bit of time you had in this city, painted with memories.

So he pulled you forward into a light run, an idea tugging on his brain as you called after him.

“Hyunjin- what-”

“Trust me, I have an idea.” He replied, glancing over his shoulder at your chasing figure. He was relieved to see you smiling again. “Let’s hope it’s still cold enough, though.”

Your curious expression was adorable. Hyunjin just hoped you’d be as thrilled with his idea as he was.

At last, he found what he was looking for. Your eyes stretched wide as you took in the ice rink- luckily still usable- and Hyunjin waited nervously for you to speak. “Well? What do you think?”.

“You remembered.” You said softly, turning to Hyunjin with your eyes aglow. You slowly smiled at him- and Hyunjin thought he might do anything to earn that smile from you again. “You remembered I wanted to try ice skating one day…”

“Why not now?” He tugged on your sleeve, and immediately you nodded.

“But… we don’t have skates.”

“An easy fix.” He responded, and in minutes you’d rented two pairs of skates. Another few minutes as you laced them up, and then you were both standing before the rink, empty save for a few other people.

Hyunjin stepped carefully onto the ice first- a little melt-y around the edges but ice nonetheless. “Here.” He offered you his hand, suddenly feeling shy when you stared at it. At last you took his hand, and his fingertips tingled at the touch.

“Here.” He grabbed your other hand, ignoring the heat on the back of his neck and ears as he helped you onto the ice. You wobbled slightly, gripping his hands tighter. Hyunjin chucked at your wary expression. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

You didn’t look assured but nodded anyway. “Alright, now what?”

“Skate!” Hyunjin faked releasing your hands, and you gasped, reaching to take his fingers in a death grip. He felt a rush of immense pleasure run through him as you pulled him back to you, even as you muttered curses at him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself-”

“Asshole.”

“I promise, no more tricks.”

“You’d better mean it, Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to god-”

He laughed, and slowly started to skate backwards. You inhaled sharply, but attempted a step forward, then another. It was shaky, for sure, but after a minute or so you started to loosen up.

“There! You’re a natural!” Hyunjin grinned, watching as you pushed out slightly with your next step. You looked at him, eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s like…”

“Flying. Isn’t it?” He murmured, and you nodded. “Ready for me to let go?”

“Okay.” You said, and Hyunjin released your hands.

He watched breathlessly as you inhaled before lifting your right foot. With a small push off the other foot, you were sailing forward- a small wobble, but you remained upright as you took the next step. And the next, and the next.

“Hyunjin!” You shouted, beaming, and Hyunjin’s heart was soaring with you as you attempted to turn and come back to him. But he beat you, too excited at your success. He skated to you and before he could think better of it, he’d pulled you to his chest in a tight hug.

“You were flying.” He said with a soft laugh, while simultaneously feeling a lump in his throat as you wound your arms around him. He felt oddly emotional as he held you, before having at least enough sense to let you go after a brief moment. “You did it.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to without you.” You replied, softly.

And for some reason, those words made his heart ache.

“Come on.” He murmured, reaching to take your hand again. “Let’s skate.”

And keep pretending that tomorrow will never come.

…

Hyunjin knew that you both spent hours on the ice, but it passed by in the blink of an eye. You were a fast learner, and after a while you were both whizzing over the rink, chasing each other, and spinning one another in circles. Every time Hyunjin’s eyes met your excited ones, it left him breathless; he was just that in love with you.

However, your feet grew tired eventually and you retired from the ice. After you returned the skates, you continued down the pathways of the park side by side. You were practically glowing, and Hyunjin found himself feeling proud that he’d been able to make you smile like this tonight.

The sky was dark now, and the park was growing quieter as more people retired for the night. With the late hour returned Hyunjin’s sense of dread. He was again made aware that he had such limited time with you, and it was gnawing at his mind feverishly. He wanted to hold your hand again, but he felt hesitant now. Why would he, when he’d have to let go again anyways?

“Look!” You exclaimed, bringing him out of his thoughts. You were pointing to a shaded booth ahead; a short line of people were waiting for a turn for photos.

“Do you want to?” Hyunjin asked, to which you immediately nodded.

“It’ll be a nice momento for tonight before we have to head home.” You murmured as you approached the line, and the pair in front of you stepped inside the photo booth.

Hyunjin felt a sharp pang in his chest at your words, but made sure it didn’t show. He merely smiled, determined not to bring down your mood. “That would be nice.”

And as it turned out, it was exactly what you both needed. Between goofy faces and funny props, you were both laughing again as you tumbled from the box and received your photo strips.

“You look ridiculous.” You gasped out, pointing to one of the pictures.

“Hey, speak for yourself.” Hyunjin replied, and you collapsed into a fit of giggles again.

Eventually you calmed down again, and you realized just how late it was getting. Hyunjin wished you could have an eternity to spend here, just soaking in each other’s presence, but all too soon he was back in your car. The streets were painfully clear, bringing back Hyunjin’s sense of dread as a few raindrops began to fall, before evolving into a slow drizzle.

He’d see you tomorrow too, he tried to assure himself as he watched the rain fall.

But for some reason, this still felt like the end.

And when the triad of dorm halls came into view, an easy goodnight seemed increasingly more impossible. Hyunjin frowned when you stopped by the side of the road- just outside of the parking lot- grinding to a stop and turning off the vehicle. He glanced at your face, half hidden in the darkness, but with visible wetness on your cheeks.

“Y/n?” He murmured gently, deep concern rising in his already tight chest. When you didn’t look at him, he carefully took your hand. You flinched at his touch, but when Hyunjin moved to let go, you only gripped him tighter. It was completely silent, save for the faint sound of the rain on the car roof.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, rubbing your hand with his thumb, hating how utterly hollow your eyes looked at this moment. He wished he could somehow take away every pain that burdened you, and fix every shitty thing that tore you from this place and from him. You deserved so much more, and if he could give it to you he would in a heartbeat. Now, all he could do was watch as you slowly looked at him and locked gazes.

The rain pounded in time with his heart that suddenly spud up. There was something unfamiliar in your eyes; something blazing in them. Something like a spark.

How it happened, Hyunjin didn’t know- but then your lips were firmly attached to his, moving slowly to capture his own perfectly. And he was kissing you back, and nothing else mattered anymore except the roaring fire of adrenaline overtaking his body as he quickly moved to grasp your face in his hands and kiss you harder. It was deep and passionate and raw with emotions that now burst into the open; months upon months of yearning and longing and at last he knew exactly what you tasted like- and he could tangle his fingers into your hair and press you closer, closer, ever closer.

You were lightning, and you’d set him ablaze.

And just as suddenly as it had started he was pulling back, finding his own cheeks tear stained, gasping for air that hadn’t seemed important seconds ago but now felt impossibly needed.

“No, we can’t, we can’t-“ he sobbed, hating every word of what tumbled from his lips when his heart screamed anything but ‘no.’ “I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry but we can’t-”

“Why not?” You choked out in a fervent whisper, a desperate gleam in your eyes that were also muddled with tears. “Crazier things have happened, right?”

“It’s impossible.” Hyunjin whispered, almost choking himself, on the words and his hatred of them. But if this world had taught him anything, it was that life was never, ever fucking fair.

“I can’t love you.” His breathing was ragged as he blinked harshly against tears, trying to keep his composure, keep strong like he’d always made himself be; yet those crystals of pain dripped down his cheeks anyways. “You’re going to California and you’re going to graduate and become an incredible journalist. And I’ll only stand in the way.” Hyunjin tried to collect himself again, fighting the raw feeling of his throat- but he’d never felt pain as horrible as this. You’d been so perfect in his embrace.

“I could never deserve you anyways.”

“Hyunjin… that’s not true. We….” But your words were aimless and you fell silent again, biting your lips as another tear trickled down your face. You knew it, too, didn’t you? Things could never have worked out between you- it was a horrible, bitter truth.

It was his fault, he convinced himself then. His fault this was so hard for you.

He had to let you go, if only for your sake.

But before he did, he allowed himself to gently brush away your tears, and softly kiss your stained cheeks. You closed your eyes as he gently kissed your forehead- when he tore away from you at last, his aching heart tore, too.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could manage before he pushed open the car door and stumbled out of the vehicle into the drizzle of rain. It was mere seconds before he felt the too familiar ache in his chest welling up again, and he dashed towards the dorm buildings before you could see him break.

He forced himself not to look back- for your sake or his own, he wasn’t sure.

…

Hyunjin’s mind was spinning as his feet carried him into the nearest building. He didn’t even realize that he wasn’t in his own dorm hall until his phone was in his hands, and he was speaking into it.

“Can I come?”

It hurt too much. The wrenching pain in his heart was unbearable as flashes of that moment in the car ran through his mind like a film. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream; more than all of those, he wanted the pain to go away. It was instinct that took him here, knocking on the door and hearing her soft voice tell him, “Come in.”

It was dark inside, only a sole lamp giving light to the room. Ava was perched on the edge of the couch, black skirt riding suspiciously up her thigh as she twisted her hair. Her catlike eyes found his own. “That’s it then.” She whispered as Hyunjin found himself reaching for the doorframe, feeling weary. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

Your hand had been so warm in his.

Numbly, he nodded. Ava exhaled, biting her bottom lip as she stood, languid and feline in her steps towards him.

“Come on, baby.” She murmured, leaning in to mumble in his ear. “Let me help you.”

He let her pull him forward, mind warring against itself as she made fast work of his shirt, kissing down his collarbone and sighing against his skin. He was pushed down onto the couch, his own hands acting instinctively- mechanically- to crawl over her skin. She hummed in approval, looking at him with gleaming eyes. “I’ll take care of you.” She purred, climbing on top of him and trailing kisses along his jawline as she raked her fingers through his damp hair. Her lips ghosted over his as his shaky hands unclasped her bra, fingers trailing her skin as her warmth pressed closer.

And Hyunjin felt utterly cold.

Every night he’d done this, it had been out of hopelessness. A way to distract himself- from school, from his own misery, and most importantly from the girl he could never have. And maybe he was an asshole for it, but it had been the only thing he could think of to keep himself from chasing after you. He’d known right from the first moment he’d fallen for you that you were way too good for him and he’d been sure he could only bring you misery if you knew of his feelings. So he’d hidden them, and with Ava’s help he’d kept himself busy.

But now he’d tasted your lips, and for a split second it could have been you in his embrace. It could have been you as his lover. And no touch of Ava’s could make him forget that feeling, and the intense loneliness in his heart could no longer be buried without you.

Hyunjin pulled back instantly, pushing out of Ava’s grasp and whirling to stand. He stumbled, light headed, suddenly needing so much room away from her and the act that he could no longer play a part in. He mumbled out a mindless apology as he leaned heavily against the nearest wall, the huge hole in his chest rapidly expanding. He looked back at Ava, her shadowed figure frozen on the couch.

Strangely her eyes held no surprise, only resolve. The room was silent for several beats- just heavy breathing, and Hyunjin’s heart racing in his ear- before she spoke.

“I knew you didn’t love me when this started.” She murmured, gathering her discarded shirt over her knees as she glared at the wall. “I didn’t expect it; that wasn’t the deal. I guess I just hoped that somewhere along the way, you might start to.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin whispered, shaky hand finding his hair- then running over his face, his neck, anything to distract from the ache in his heart.

She merely looked at him, expression like stone. “Save it. I don’t want your pity. And I don’t think I even want you anymore.”

He hardly registered those words, the pain in his heart so overwhelming that he thought nothing else would be able to shake him. He just took it, feeling guilty and pathetic and broken.

“Go home, Hyunjin.” Her voice trembled as she turned away again. “And don’t talk to me anymore.”

When he stepped outside, he didn’t even feel the rain. He paused under the frigid drops, staring up at the sky for who knew how long. It had never been so hard to take a step, but Hyunjin forced himself one by one to walk away from the hall.

Eventually Hyunjin arrived at his own dorm, soaked and shivering as he shuffled into his room. The door slowly closed behind him with a click, and the dripping bag in his grasp slipped to the ground.

He stood numbly in the doorstep for several seconds, mind trying to process his surroundings now that he’d been greeted with quiet and calm for the first time that night. At last he moved robotically to remove his shoes- but his foot caught on the lip and he stumbled, knees hitting the ground painfully hard.

Oddly enough, it was this moment that broke him.

It started in welling tears and trembling hands as he ripped the shoe off and dropped it to the floor, trying to catch a breath that continuously escaped him. It all hit him in a wave, emotions too strong for names; the first sob burst from his lips, followed by another and another and another. Once it started, he couldn’t stop- he slowly rocked his body and subconsciously lowered himself to the floor, too weary to stay upright. He found his arms curling around himself, head burying into their cold embrace and finding little comfort as the emptiness of his room and his heart consumed him.

As tears fell faster and his sobs wretched harsher, his mind screamed at him. Pathetic. You’re so pathetic. Laying on the cold floor by his door, crying so hard he nearly vomited, Hyunjin certainly felt that way.

He wore himself out crying, with too little energy to pull himself any farther than the kitchen. Exhausted, he collapsed with heavy breaths on the tile; he could still feel your photo booth pictures in his jacket pocket.

It was a relief when sleep came and allowed his mind to drift away, momentarily giving him peace from the bitterness of reality. When he eventually awoke, the sun greeted him with bright happy rays that he could not smile for. Today was your last.

He’d promised to see you off, hadn't he?

Pathetic.

Yeah, he was. And he couldn’t bear to follow through.

Ten minutes before your flight left, he was still on the ground, miserable and guilty and hollow.

I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry.

…

You strained your neck to see over the crowd as yet another warning reminded you that you needed to board your flight immediately. But desperate hope made you stay, clinging to the plea that Hyunjin would come. He had to.

“This is the last call for flight 325, departing to Los Angeles, California in ten minutes. All passengers please ensure you follow…”

Your grip on your bags tightened, but the crowd was thinning and as you scanned the area again- no Hwang Hyunjin.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

Holding your bags, you raced to board, eyes sweeping the area one last time before you entered the cabin, heart sinking. You found your spot, packing your bags into the overhead compartment before falling back into your seat. Now that you were still, you had a minute to process.

He hadn’t come.

You glanced out the window and found the scenery slightly blurred. What, tears? You blinked quickly to clear them, swiping at your eyes with a sudden wave of frustration. So what if Hyunjin hadn’t come? So what if he’d broken his promise? It didn’t matter now. You were leaving for good, and you could hardly expect him to bid you farewell after everything.

You didn’t want to admit it, but as one stupid stubborn tear dripped down your face- it hurt like hell leaving without a proper goodbye.

Why hadn’t he come? Was he so ready to cut ties and move on now that you were leaving? The ghost of your shared kiss lingered in your brain, and you had to wonder; why had you done it? It had been stupid and selfish, but you hadn’t been able to help it. He’d looked at you with so much warmth and concern that you’d acted on impulse- and once your lips had touched his, you couldn’t have pulled away if you wanted to. But why had he kissed you back, and why hadn’t he come today, and why couldn’t you have had more time? More time to kiss him like that. More time to love him, and share coffees and muffins, and share glances across lectures that were particularly boring. You wanted him close, and just when he could have fallen into your embrace, you were dragged away- and now you’d messed up a relationship with someone you loved for a stupid kiss. Idiot.

Perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be.

But damn, you’d so hoped it would be.

The plane jolted as it began to move, heading for the runway. You wanted to swear to yourself no more tears, but as more and more memories of New York flooded through your mind it was impossible.

Silent droplets traced your cheeks as the plane’s speed picked up, and then you were off the ground. At that very moment, it hit the hardest.

Goodbye, New York. You stifled a sob, eyes squeezing shut as not to see the city below fade from view. Goodbye, Hyunjin.

…

A month later

Hyunjin wanted to call you, he really did.

He missed you every day, but he couldn’t call you. Couldn’t even muster up the courage to text you, because it wasn’t fair to you. Why would you want to hear from him after he’d broken his promise and left you hanging? He would go to the ends of the earth if you asked him to, but he would not chase after you- not if he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t hurt you again.

He had never deserved you. He didn’t know if he ever would have, either.

He collapsed on his couch after work, exhausted from the day and the heavy snow that had been dumped on the city and made travelling much harder. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he released a long sigh. His eyes fell on his phone, sitting on the coffee table and his heart clenched.

What he wouldn’t do to see your smile again.

He made himself shake his head and stand up. Walk to the kitchen counter, find a mug from the cupboards. He carefully poured boiling water into the cup with a tea bag and brought the steaming drink with him as he settled back on the couch. The silence immediately consumed him.

He couldn’t even try to lie to himself; it was so much lonelier without you. Everywhere he looked had your fingerprints all over it; the fountain, the university, his dorm. Even the flower shop housed your ghost from the days you’d stop by, complimenting the baskets and clipping the ribbons with him. He remembered how happy you’d been in summer when the first of the roses had bloomed and you’d had stores upon stores of them.

“I’ve never seen so many roses in my life-” you breathed, mouth open.

He was tempted to tease your gaping expression as a resemblance to a fish, but he was too endeared by your wonder to mention it. “You should see the store during Valentine’s.”

“There’s more then?”

“There’s hundreds of them, in every different colour.” Hyunjin grinned when you plucked one and observed it.

“No thorns.”

“We clip them.”

“Ah.” You put the stem experimentally between your teeth, and this time Hyunjin couldn’t help himself.

“You look like a beaver.”

You frowned, pulling the rose from your mouth. “It’s supposed to be charming.”

“Yes, a very charming beaver.”

You threw the rose at him, and Hyunjin clumsily caught it with a laugh. “Hey, don’t be mad. I’ll even make it up to you.”

You’d raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“I’ll give you the rose for free.”

He offered it to you, and watched the tips of your ears flame. With sudden shyness, he shrugged. “If you want it.”

“Yes.” You murmured, carefully plucking the rose from between his fingers. A second of tense silence passed before you blinked, and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” If it makes you smile, then anything.

Would the ache in his heart ever heal? He missed everything you’d been together, back when California hadn’t been a part of the equation. More than anything, he just wished you were beside him again.

If you hadn’t left, what would have happened? Would you still have kissed him? Would you be what he woke up to every morning? Or would he have messed it up anyways?

His eyes trailed to the sealed papers that lay beside his phone- midterm marks he’d received the day before and hadn’t yet found the courage to open. He didn’t know what would happen if his marks had suffered, but it certainly wouldn’t be pretty.

But… he would have to face them sooner or later. With hesitancy, Hyunjin grasped the papers and turned them over. After pausing for a breath in and out, he folded them open.

His eyes scanned the pages, desperately finding each grade mark as he held his breath. His first few had remained the same, or improved by barely a couple points. And the very last one, his most worrisome class…

Had improved.

Improved.

He grinned at the terrible mark, in all its glory, and laughed. Relief swept through his body as he sank back into the couch, letting the paper fall away with his anxieties. Maybe he wouldn’t flunk out, after all.

And who helped him to study for it?

The smile faded slowly as your face swam into his mind with a sharp pang in his chest. This time, however, it came with a realization- of you.

You, who’d touched him in so many ways. Who’d always had his back and had always believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. Who’d meant so much to him, so much that he thought he might even love you - and he was just going to let you go because of a few mistakes? Because of a little distance?

He still owed you at least a dozen apologies, and there was so much left unsaid. And he didn’t know what the future held for the two of you; he didn’t know if you’d be able to pick up all the broken pieces and carry forward or if you’d only be separated and splintered further.

All he knew was that a part of him was out there, 2789 miles away. And it hurt too much not to try and fix it.

I must be the biggest idiot in the world. He thought with a shake of his head. Whether as your friend or your lover- or something in between- no matter what happens with us, it’ll be worth it if I have you.

So he steeled his nerves, took a deep breath and let it out again. Then he picked up the phone, and dialed the number he’d had memorized since the day he’d met you.

His heart raced in his ear as the tone rang. He didn’t know what you would say. Hell, he didn’t know what he would say. He really didn’t know anything.

But maybe one day, if the universe decided to give you both a break, then maybe- just maybe- you’d see each other again. You’d be beside him again, and he’d be able to wrap you in his arms, place his head on top of yours and his bleeding, broken heart would slowly start to mend.

He could believe it; he could hope. Because your tentative hello that crackled over the speaker sounded cautiously hopeful, too.

After all, crazier things have happened, right?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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pink-princess-pussy-pop · 8 months

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Welcome Home - King Ben x Reader Smut!

Warnings: smut, ben cusses :)

Request: Hi! Could i request a king ben smut where he has like a tough meeting about some other country and goes into his office where the reader is waiting for him all sweetly and he just bends her over his desk and gets his frustrations out?

(The way he smiles makes my insides CHURN.)

Everything was planned to a T. After being gone for two weeks, visiting King Charming and Queen Cinderella, Ben was finally returning.

Chad had unfortunately, but not surprisingly, done a stupid business deal with some pirates off the coast of Auradon. Since he was technically in Auradon waters, Ben was the one who had to handle it. After sorting out the issues with the pirates, he’d gone to King Charming’s castle to discuss the matter further, leaving you to govern Auradon.

Not that you minded, you just missed your husband. A great deal. So his arrival needed to be perfect.

His plane would arrive the next morning and so you had taken the initiative to have everything prepared. You’d asked the staff to prepare his favorite meals, planned a date for the next evening, and as your own added touch, we’re now setting the biggest vase of blue roses on his desk.

You opened your phone, looking at the last text he’d sent you.

It was from this morning,

See you soon, my love.

You simply couldn’t wait.

Your days were lonely without him, as were the nights. And selfishly, you’d been missing something else. These past two weeks was the longest you and Ben had ever been apart and your body was definitely feeling the repercussions.

You really missed Ben.

ALL of Ben.

As you turned around, the door to his office opened. Your head looked backwards and your heart jumped at the sight of your husband. His bag fell to the floor at the sight of you.

You froze in place, leaning back on his desk.

“Wha- why are you back?”

He smiles.

“Wanted to surprise you. Didn’t think you’d be in my office, sweetheart.” He walks closer to you. “Are you not happy to see me?” His brow arches.

“No, I am I’m just confused-“ Your words are cut off by a kiss. Ben lifts you up sit on his desk, stepping between your thighs. As much as you want to give in, you push against his chest. “Wait, Ben… how was the meeting?”

His eyes roll.

"Horrible. Chad's dad is an asshole. Chad is an asshole. The pirates were assholes. Now, I'm finally home and I'd really, really like to fuck my wife. Is that okay with you?" His eyes flicker down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

"Uh... yeah sure. That's cool."

"Great." His hand wraps around your head, pulling you into him again, lips meeting yours. Your hands find his face, thumbs sliding over his cheeks and pull him closer.

His fingers trail down your body and then grab your waist.

"Ben..." He keeps kissing you. "Do you maybe wanna..." Another. "Go back to our room?" His fingers play with the hem of your blue dress.

His voice comes out hoarse and deep.

"No, I think we are gonna stay right here."

Ben's lips attached to your neck, fingers threading up into your hair to tilt your head back.

The other hand begins pushing your skirt up higher and higher. Your breathing turns uneven as your eyes dart around, hoping no one is going to walk in on your escapades.

"Ben, are you sure..." He pulls away harshly, glaring at you.

"Do I need to bend you over my desk, Y/N?" You suck in a breath as a deep blush crosses your cheeks. His eyebrows raise because of course he notices and then his eyes roll. "Oh for fucks sake."

And then before you can even blink, Ben has you bent over his desk with your skirt over your hips.

You whine as his hips roll into yours, fingers curling over the edge of his desk. Your head turns, ready to glare at him when he rips your underwear clean off.

Your eyes widen in surprise, stammering out his name but go silent when you feel him podding at your entrance.

His voice is hushed next to your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"A loss for words, honey?" His fingers tighten on your hips as he pushes into you. Your knuckles turn white as your grip on the table tightens as well. He gives you no time to adjust to him and begins ramming into you. You shove your face into your arm, biting the flesh to contain your lewd sounds. "Fuckin' hell. Missed you so much."

One of Ben's hands leaves your side to press down on your back and you arch in response. Though you cannot see him, Ben grins. He loves your body's response to his. He can never get enough.

His jaw sets as he nears his orgasm, he'd missed you so much that he could barely hold it in. The sounds of his groans fill the office, along with the slapping of hips and the wetness of your core.

Desperate to make you come before him, his fingers dip between your conjoined hips to circle your clit. You jolt in response, an especially loud moan escaping your throat, boosting Ben's already inflated ego even more.

Before either of you know it, your pelvic muscles squeezing uncontrollably around him and his body collapses onto yours, absolutely spent. The two of you are silent while you come down from your highs and then Ben places soft kisses across your shoulders.

"Welcome home, my king." He groans as he feels himself harden inside of you.

"Oh, honey..." He pulls back, ready for round two. "Welcome home indeed."

Not sure if this is what you had in mind but there ya go. Hope you enjoy:)

#ben descendants smut #ben florian #ben x reader #king ben #ben florian x reader #ben descendants #descendants king ben #descendants smut #descendants

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vampyrsm · 3 months

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‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER NINETEEN | TOYOUKE

‣‣ Synopsis: Beneath the watchful eye of the moon, the executioner of the Shogun is bathed and washed of her transgressions, her sins nothing but faint memories as she loses herself in the sensation that is love.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 7.6k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, cannibalism, blood and gore, smut, no prep, creampie.

You awake to cold kisses from the snowflakes above. They flutter down from the sky as if to greet you, to welcome you home. They settle against the blood that had since dried and cracked on your battle-worn skin, melting into you as if they could solely wash away all that had transgressed in such a short amount of time.

Sukuna holds you in his arms, his own body now cloaked in a thick haori that shields him from the wind and snow. All four of his arms cradle you, tucking you beneath the fabric as well as into the warmth of his chest. You can feel each measured breath against the side of your face with each step he takes up the mountain.

That’s when you realise you recognise the mountaintops, and you recognise the leaf-stark trees that cut sharp lines through the slow-rising morning.

Home. You made it back home.

Cold fingers belonging to delicate snowflakes brush your eyelids closed once again, the gentle jostling of each step is enough to soothe you back into a dreamless sleep.

It isn’t until sometime later, or perhaps it’s only moments because you hear the loud creak of the wooden grand doors opening.

“Master Sukuna,” Uraume, another way of relief settles within you. “Welcome home.”

“Prepare our bedroom.” Sukuna talks as he continues to walk by, the deep octave of his voice rumbles against your cheek still pressed into the warm planes of his chest. It almost doesn’t feel real, to be held in his arms and carried through the temple that was now also your own—a home you could call your own, a place you felt safe in.

Another rush of cold air has you instinctively curling further into Sukuna, and he in return tightens his arms around you as if he were strong enough to ward off the natural occurrence of wind. He continues to follow a path until you feel the warmth curling up from the hotspring you had bathed in so many times before.

“I know you’re awake.” He comments, and you look up to see him glancing down at you for a moment. A rare smile on his face, as if he’s relieved too to find you back in his arms—in his home. “We both need a wash.”

Quite the understatement. You hadn’t bathed in for far too long, the ‘baths’ they gave whilst you were imprisoned were more just a cold bucket thrown over you to see who could get you to cry or plead for mercy first. You let Sukuna unfurl you from his arms, his hands still holding you delicately by your waist as you find your feet once again in the world.

You turn from Sukuna, and brace yourself for what was to come. His hands are genteel in the way they pull at the useless belt of the kimono and let it tumble to the floor. You don’t want to think about what he may see beneath all that dirt and grime, to see the true extent of your own mistakes. Because that is what it was, wasn’t it? Your own mistake. To run away like that, on a fool's errand.

The water bites viciously at your near-frozen toes, and that burn climbs higher and higher with each step you take into the spring. You can see the blood and dirt drift off away from you, to be pushed over the edge of the hot spring and forgotten in the surrounding foliage. You find yourself relishing in the pain, however, a reminder of all that had happened.

With the water now lapping at the base of your throat, you turn around to assess whether or not Sukuna is disgusted by what he must see. He remains standing where you left him, unphased by the snowflakes that settle against his skin only to be instantly melted by the warmth that he radiates. Even from the water, you can see he fights an internal battle, one that he knows is fruitless.

For everyone who hurt you is dead. All except for one, that is.

You can see the twitch of his finger, a subtle flinch in his cheek that gives away his need to chase down Sugawara and kill him. Kill him for standing idly and watching all that they did to you. It’s a war within his own mind that he’s evidently starting to lose if the way your hair stands on end at the sudden prickle of his cursed energy.

So you raise a hand from the water, still dirty from the obscenities that had occurred. Sukuna’s eyes hone in on it immediately, all four watching a single hand with the utmost attention. “Bathe with me.”

Not once does his eyes leave your hand, as if he could see the souls attached to the very hand that had been wiped away with a swipe of your blade. His hands move to remove the haori he had thrown over himself at some point, and then next go his trousers. He moves with the grace of a prowling predator, silent and deadly—even when entering the water, it’s near silent.

Your heart pounds in your chest when he approaches you. Sukuna stands close enough that you can feel his own warmth through the heat of the water, his chest moving with barely there breaths as he stares down at you along the ridge of his nose. You want to know what he’s thinking—his silence was unnerving.

The warmth of his hand is stark against the coldness of your cheek, your skin stings against the cold wind that blows through the valley between mountains. Sukuna lets his thumb roam over the blood and dirt on your face, clearing a path to see your otherwise unblemished skin beneath.

His eyes track the path he makes with his thumb, unearthing you from beneath all that grime and blood — to find the one he risked it all for. And as if he could finally see you again, truly, see you. His hand slides along your cheek and into the back of your matted hair, the claws of his fingers are careful not to scratch too harshly.

Sukuna then pulls you inwards, your face pressed to the centre of his chest where you can feel the rhythmic thump of his heart. An arm slips across your shoulders, securing you against him. And then his other two arms come across your back, one hand spanning the width of your bare side. He holds you hostage against his front, pressing you as closely as he can physically manage.

A puff of hot air ruffles the hair at the crown of your head, and then you feel the press of his nose there. He takes a deep inhale in, and you know the scent of death doesn’t bother him as he squeezes you tighter. His heart thunders faster against his chest with each deep inhale he takes, his lungs crushing against you in the viper-like grip he has on you.

Sukuna holds you like you’re his own heart, his lifeline. He holds you like you had the power to wipe away his entire world with just a flick of a wrist… and perhaps you could, you realise. Sukuna holds you with the love of a deeply devoted husband, a man who knows nothing more than to serve and protect his loved one.

His nose moves from the crown of your head, replaced with the point of his chin. You can only keep your arms wrapped around his own body, tucked beneath the second set of arms. His skin is hot beneath your fingertips, slick with the steam that continues to curl around your body. You trace over the faded silvery lines of scars you’ve come to know and recognise.

“You’re never to do that again.” He speaks in a low voice, a softened edge to it that almost goes unheard with the whistle of the wind. But you heard it, felt it in the rumble of his chest.

You don’t dare untuck yourself from his arms, so instead you nestle yourself further into his chest. His heart was just a mere few inches away. “Never.”

You’re unsure how long he holds you like that, close to his heart, close to where he shares a part of you with his very soul. But eventually, he untangles himself from you only to sit himself in the hot spring—and to bring you down with him. He settles you into his lap, the seat deep enough that the water laps just beneath your breasts.

It’s an overly intimate position to be in, yet there’s no sexual intention with it. He runs his hands over your skin to soak it, to brush away the loose dirt and whatever else may be marring your skin. His eyes never leave the trail he paints for himself with the water, always watching and observing to see if he finds a new scar or wound to grow angry over.

The cloth he procured from somewhere is gentle against your skin, he rubs harsher against the stubborn spots of dirt that had been there for some time before he soothes it over with the back of his knuckles along his fingers. It isn’t long until he’s cleaned you thoroughly enough that the air has grown lighter, the transgressions of all that had occurred to you slowly washed away.

He doesn’t fight you when you take the cloth from his own hand, instead, he relaxes against the rocky lip of the spring and allows you to take over. His skin isn’t nearly as filthy as your own, but there are still deep patches of crimson red that stain his skin and dirt that made its way into the ridges of his muscles.

“I thought you’d never come for me.” You speak for the first time since the bathing had begun, and immediately Sukuna’s eyes meet your own. “I thought you’d realise it was a trap, and that you’d leave me to die instead.”

His jaw works for a second, and you wonder if perhaps you had offended him. He remains silent as you run the cloth over his neck, wiping away the blood that had dripped there from his many meals on the battlefield. There’s not a single scratch on him, you realise, his skin is unmarked and yet he had torn through so many with his bare hands. He truly was something to behold.

“It did occur to me that it was a trap.” He admits, his words are rich with a soft tone. “But I realised that I didn’t care. I’d do anything if it meant you came back to me.”

“Anything?” You ask, wiping the cloth down one of his arms he lifts just enough for you to clean thoroughly.

“Anything.” He tucks a finger under your chin to meet your gaze. “If it meant I had to traverse a hundred—a thousand years for you. I’d do it.”

He lets your chin go at the sight of the smile on your lips, his own lips curled in a smile only reserved for you. You clean his hands, careful with the length of his claws and when you’re done — you lay a kiss on the centre of his palm. A gentle gesture that has Sukuna squeezing at your side with one of the hands he had beneath the water wrapped around you.

“And I would do the same for you.”

“I thought we just agreed that you’d never do something so reckless again.” He grumbles, all four eyes narrowed at you when you laugh in kind.

“Well, actually. We agreed that I’d never leave—” “That by default is something reckless. Don’t twist my words back on me, woman.” His fingers pinch unforgivingly at your thigh. “Leave the traversing to me.”

“And what am I to do? Be your pretty helpless wife?” You question with a raised eyebrow, the corner of your lips settled into an easy smirk. Sukuna grins at your words, his hands moving along your body carefully. One arm lines up along your spine, and another comes up to cup the curve of the back of your head.

“Pretty, yes. Helpless? Never. I’d never ask of you to be useless, I have no need for useless things.” His other hands are warm against your sides, long claws dragging possessively over what he deems as his. “No, you’re to be at my side, to rule with me.”

“I like the sound of that.” Your eyes bounce between his own, and Sukuna practically preens under your attention. His muscles flex on their own volition, and he seats you deeper into his lap—you can feel the twitch between your own thighs, and neither of you comment on it. Not yet.

“I’m sure you do. I see the difference in you, you’re no longer an honour-bound Samurai. You’re something more. Lethal without her rules and binds.” The hand at the back of your head made its way through your hair as best it could with the state it was in, his claws careful to not scrape or drag. “That’s what makes you worthy of being at my side, for eternity.”

“For eternity.” You breathe, the words brushing against his own lips. You hadn’t realised him to be so close, but then he pulled back when you sought his lips for a kiss.

“Relax for me.”

You hadn’t even realised your muscles were drawn so tightly, the ache in your back and thighs enough to tell you that you had indeed been tensed up for the entirety of your time in the water—memories that were working hard to be buried beneath the fog that lulled over your brain surface momentarily.

You see the flashing faces of your uncle and your tormentors, you can still taste the cotton rag against your lips and the burn that came with being forced to choke on the water without being submerged. It has your fingers curling tightly around his biceps, and Sukuna doesn’t flinch when his eyes drift momentarily to see that you had in fact embedded claws into his skin.

“Still your mind, you’re safe.” Sukuna coaxes you back to him, eyes of shimmering red a homing beacon for your own. His hands are gentle against your body, holding you firmly yet gently—preciously. “Breathe.”

It’s uncharacteristic the way Sukuna somehow manages to calm the raging tempest within you, how his words are gentler than most and his eyes hold a sense of worry that could only belong to that of a lover, no, more than that. Sukuna had always been more than that for you, you just hadn’t realised it until you were forced away from him.

So you breathe, you still your mind and relax carefully into his hold. It makes Sukuna relax along with you, his arms carefully relaxing their muscles when you retract your fingers from his arms. You find yourself watching him, how his expression morphs into something he must be unaware of. Because he’s looking at you like you were the one to hang the stars each night, the one who whispered in the ear of the sun to rise every morning. He’s looking at you like he’d die for you.

But you’re unable to further that thought when he leans you further backwards into the water, shifting you to sit deeper in his lap to ensure you don’t slip away. The hands on your body hold you steadfast, the water laps over your body but never submerges you. It laps just at your ears, and you try to stop the flinch of your thighs; the need to run bubbling up.

Your mind empties however when that hand at the back of your skull starts to card through your hair, as carefully as one can with long claws and fingers that were made to destroy. He works his way through the knots, through the matts that had formed from dirt and blood—he’s unperturbed when it builds against his fingers before he has to wash it away.

His fingers explore the expanse of your skull, feeling, checking—ensuring you weren’t injured in a way that was unseen. The gentle movements of his fingers against your scalp have your eyes fluttering to a half-lidded position, the stress of the last however many days, weeks, floating away with the grime that had clung to your skin.

Once Sukuna finds you to be unhurt, his hand slips from your hair to hold you at the base of your neck. A hand emerges from beneath the water, the cloth balled in his hand to wring out the excess water before he runs it delicately over your face. You feel the blood that had gathered on your lips, your chin, and your cheeks wash away with each swipe of the cloth, unmasking you from the person you had become in such a short amount of time.

A wipe of the cloth over each of your eyebrows, along the bridge of your nose. It’s such a wonder to behold; to watch Sukuna working meticulously. Something you doubt he’d do for anyone else. He brings the cloth back down along your cheek, lingering at your jaw. You watch through lidded eyes when his own naturally drift to observe your lips, wet from both the steam and the cloth he worked over your skin.

His jaw flexes beneath the tips of your fingers when you bring it up from beneath the water, you trace along the dark line of his tattoo slowly to watch him lean into your touch. He closes the gap between you before you can blink, his breath catching against your wet skin, and you drag your hand up through his hair—strands of pink that seem longer when dripping in water.

Sukuna slants his lips over your own, unwilling to waste any more time in staring. His kiss is unyielding and all-consuming, as is everything that comes hand-in-hand with Sukuna. He kisses you like he’s still angry, not at you, but at the world—as if he has no other way to convey just how he felt in the time spent apart.

His hands work to pull you up from the water, ensuring the kiss remains unbroken. Large palms press against your sides, flexing and squeezing to mould you further into his chest and subsequently deeper into his lap. He’s hard beneath the water, pressed snug up against your own unprotected centre.

When the kiss does break, you’re forced to tip your head back. His lips and teeth drag their way down along the expanse of your throat, pressing into the artery that throbs and thrums in anticipation. His sharpened teeth linger there for a second; contemplating, you think, whether he should just devour you to truly express his feelings for you.

But then he moves on, his lips move down along your skin—chasing droplets of water until he finds your collarbone. He laves his tongue over the flesh, drinking the mixture of diluted blood and water until his lips find that smattering of scar tissue where he had first bit you all those moons ago.

Sukuna hovers there for a moment, basking in your warmth. And then he bites.

It’s excruciating as the first time, and the times after that. The scar tissue gives way easier, re-moulding itself to fit those elongated canines that are so used to ripping and tearing flesh apart. He growls against your skin, a guttural sound that should fill your stomach with fear—instead you feel nothing but untamed arousal. His hands cling to your skin, claws pressing hard enough to draw blood beneath the heated water.

The sundering of flesh is loud in your ear, more of a squelch and then nothing but insufferable pain. It blossoms rapidly and burrows itself deep into your muscles and along your bones. It ricochets up into your spine until you’re forced to go rigid in Sukuna’s lap, your fingers digging harshly into his forearms where your hands had come to rest.

Your vision swims and Sukuna fills the space between black dots that dance in your vision. His chin and lips are painted in your blood, teeth grinding and working through the raw flesh he had torn from your body. You watch his lips, how his jaw works to chew through the tougher bits of fat and muscle alike—then he swallows.

His breath is warm against your lips, the stench of copper strong enough to stick to the back of your throat. His hands come up to cup your face once more, large thumbs pressing into your cheeks before he drags you forward. Sukuna presses his slippery crimson-dyed lips to your own, the tang of copper explodes against your tongue when you urge it forward to collide with his own.

You lick into his mouth, along those sharpened teeth and the roof of his mouth. You savour the taste of your own flesh, your own blood. It drives you to dig your own fingers into his skin, grasping at his neck until you’re dragging him impossibly closer. The secondary face scratches against your skin, so rough to the touch that it bites into your cheek.

When you pull back from the kiss to breathe, Sukuna looks at you with pupils blown wide. The red of his eyes practically glows with hunger, and that’s enough to drive your own insatiable darkness to surge forward and bare its teeth.

Sukuna doesn’t flinch nor reprimand you when you turn your head to the side, the thumb that was pressed into your cheek slips between your bruised and bloodied lips. He doesn’t fight when you widen your maw, canine teeth pointed and sharp. You think you can see Sukuna grin through the darkness that tints your vision—blinded by this need, this want, this desire. To devour.

Your teeth meet no resistance, his skin and bone break apart under the pressure of your jaw and teeth combined. It’s a loud crunch that you’d heard only a few hours prior with a man less worthy. Blood spills against your tongue, and spurts against the back of your throat when you sever the veins. It boils against your innards, a type of heat only capable of being harboured by someone like Sukuna.

Sukuna watches you through half-mast eyes, his gaze following the rush of blood that spills down along the column of your throat and mingles with the open wound on your neck. You hold eye contact with him when you pull back enough for him to watch your jaw work, and the bob of your throat when you force the length of his finger down your throat—

Time stills, for a long moment, or so it feels. You feel something grasp at you, tangle its dark claws with your soul and tug. Sukuna’s face blurs before you when he leans in closer, grasping at your face with an intensity you hadn’t had turned your way in a long time.

It feels like a storm has formed in the pit of your stomach, it bubbles and burns back up your chest until it scratches at your throat. You feel… power. Raw power. So different from what you had been allowed to use in tandem with the binding vow between souls; this was as if Sukuna had a physical place within you.

Then, it stops. The world resumes around you, the snowflakes from the skies above continue to melt against your heated bare shoulders and Sukuna is tilting his head in interest as he watches you come back to reality.

“Fascinating.” He mumbles, more to himself, his hand brushes over your face and you realise he’s already healed the finger back into its rightful place. Another hand presses against your neck, digging into the exposed nerve endings and severed muscles before a cool relief washes over the stinging flesh.

Hands beneath the water grasp at your waist, and the cold air bites against your bare skin. Nipples hardening against the gust of wind that battles with the billowing steam from the hot spring below, but it only lasts for a moment before you’re brought back down into the water.

You gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your skull at the sudden intrusion. The pain that should’ve accompanied being impaled on one of Sukuna’s cocks is nulled by the residual cursed energy that continues to pull together muscle and skin along your shoulder and neck. Yet the pressure remains, a snug fit no matter how many times he had fucked you previously.

You find yourself sliding your hands along his jaw, thumbs dragging on both smooth and rough skin. His lips against yours are surprisingly gentle, consuming you with a delicacy that shouldn’t come from a man like Sukuna. And yet, he delivers it to you flawlessly. Large hands expand over the expanse of your back, fingertips digging into flesh and bone until it aches under the pressure he provides.

The first rise of your hips has you both breaking apart, his lips parting in time to breathe in your breathy moan. Your arms loop themselves around his shoulders, your nails that had been torn and ripped in battle dig into his flesh when he begins to move you with a little more of a pace; a rhythm soon to be picked up effortlessly.

Sukuna presses his forehead to your own, all of his eyes focused on you. That amount of attention would’ve unnerved you so long ago, but now you preen in it. His focus is locked solely onto you, watching each and every minute twitch of your face, watching the way your pupils expand rapidly.

Watching to ensure you’re with him, mind and soul.

The length of his cock drags along the velveteen walls that continue to clench around him with each downward drag of your hips, his claws just shy of digging into your flesh when he directs you to ride him a little firmer. His chest rubs against your perked nipples, the sweat building between the two of you only worsens with the rising heat of the hot spring.

Your fingers grasp at the damp strands of hair at the base of his neck, and you pull gently. A movement that you know Sukuna could refuse, but he allows you to move his head back enough to expose the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows thickly. He stares up at you through the thickness of his eyelashes, a smouldering gaze that burns you alive.

Your blood boils and your muscles grow taut, the way he looks at you is nothing short of hungry. Sukuna must feel what’s cresting on the horizon for you, as his hands grasp at you much tighter than before and your world twists and turns.

The stone beneath you is freezing, your back arching away in an attempt to escape the snow-covered stone edge of the hot spring Sukuna had laid you out on. Two of his hands hold you steadfast at your waist, ensuring your lower half doesn’t sink back into the water whilst he fucks you at a pace that’s bruising.

His other two hands explore your skin, large fingers pressing into your ribcage and brushing over the tip of your nipples. Your hands shoot downwards, only able to grab ahold of his forearms when he lowers his stance just slightly to fuck up into that spot he knows to exist. It’s enough to push a loud moan from somewhere deep in your chest, your head sinking back into the snow.

The sky above you continues to sprinkle you with snowflakes, melting the second they reach your dewy skin. Sukuna’s hand comes to rest between your breasts, flat against your hummingbird of a heart. It thrums harder beneath his touch, and you don’t doubt that Sukuna’s own heart hammers against his ribcage in response.

His hips continue to press against your own with each thrust, the water lapping over the edge of the spring warms your skin and fights away the cold that bites at your exposed skin. You can feel his second cock pressed between your ass cheeks, twitching with each thrust into your pussy. A wandering hand moves to press against your stomach, digging into the flesh just enough to cause discomfort—until you feel him fuck harder into you.

It quickly morphs from discomfort to blinding pleasure, your thighs tense and your toes curl relentlessly in the night air. Your nails bite into the skin of his forearms, giving you enough leverage to lift up your head and upper body to look Sukuna in the eye when he starts to fuck you in earnest.

“Cum for me,” he grunts, huffing out his words and you can’t help but admire the sheen on his face. “Now.”

The hand at your stomach swoops down, and a large thumb presses against your clit to rub quick smooth circles against it. Your entire body seizes up with the command that rolls off of his tongue so easily, and you obey. Your vision flutters away with the overwhelming sensitivity, your mouth parting in a silent moan.

Sukuna continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his fingers tighten around your waist and his claws sink into the flesh protecting your heart. The growl rumbling through his chest is morphed into a deep groan, a desperate noise that has your eyes opening once again to watch the man before you find his bliss.

His eyes are closed, head tilted back just enough to expose his throat once again and you want nothing but to sink your teeth into it. His lips part with another groan, and his breath comes out in a plume of white to mix with the frigid night sky. The cock buried deep within you twitches, once and then twice before he throws his hips forward to press himself uncomfortably against your cervix.

The thumb at your clit doesn’t stop its movement, easing you through the pressure of him spilling his seed so deep inside of you. Sukuna drops his head back down, all four of his eyes are half-lidded but they watch you intently. Lovingly. The hand at your chest releases you, brushing over the blood that started to spot your skin.

You expect him to withdraw from inside you, to clean up the mess you had made but instead, Sukuna leans forward. In this position, it forces his cock somewhat impossibly deeper inside—his cum leaking out and dripping to mix with the steamy water that continues to flow over the edge into the surrounding land.

His forehead presses against your temple, his nose pressed into your cheek. He breathes you in, deeply, uncaring for the way the sweat dappling your skin mixes with his own. Sukuna continues his way down along your body, a single kiss to your jaw, and then against the marred skin of your throat that had reformed the scar tissue there.

Finally, he comes to a stop. Hovering just a mere inch away from your chest, the blood that he had drawn from you is already dried up and sticking to your skin. His upper set of eyes flick upwards to spare you a glance before his lips graze along the centre of your chest.

Your heart lurches, a rapid beat that causes your blood to sing and the ringing in your ears to grow louder. It’s bewitching to watch. How he holds your gaze whilst his lips press against your chest—against your heart. His lips part and his tongue is hot against your skin, laving over the cuts he had left on your body in the throes of passion.

Sukuna leaves you too soon, pushing himself up to stand at his full height once again. His imposing figure cuts through the night sky, the snow that falls against him fades into nothing and the stars twinkle a little more dimly when you stare up at him.

He pulls you up easily enough, holding you to his chest when his semi-hard cock slips free from your warmth. And then he’s sinking back into the water, keeping you close enough that you can feel his breath sticking to the tacky sweat that lines your body. His hands are gentle again when he cleans you, the cloth between your legs nothing but a quick yet precise few swipes before he tends to himself.

You had expected him to hand you the cloth to return the favour, but it would seem Sukuna is more content to hold you close to him.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” You speak for the first time in what feels like an age, your words are warm against Sukuna’s chest. He doesn’t reply, instead only grunts in askance of your explanation. “Do you think I made a mistake in not killing Sugawara?”

Sukuna again does not reply, not straight away. His body is solid beneath your own, unmoving rock and you wonder if perhaps he truly does believe you a fool for letting him live. Then he releases a breath.

“No.” He admits, his voice a rumble against your ear. “I would’ve killed him, but you did something much more deserving. You cursed his entire bloodline. I admire you for it.”

His praise warms you, and you can’t stop the upturning of your lips into a smile. He didn’t think of you as the fool, an idiot who was too lenient on a man who was given the power of the Gods and refused to use it as such. “I should’ve kept his eyes.”

Sukuna laughs, and your smile grows tenfold. “They would’ve made interesting decorations. Or maybe they would’ve been a delicacy to eat, such power would taste divine.”

His words draw you back to what had happened moments before he fucked you, the power you had momentarily felt when devouring one of his fingers. It was an odd sensation, something you had never felt before. It was unlike the bond you both had vowed to one another, this was like you had eaten power in a physical form.

There was no doubt that Sukuna’s cursed energy was strong, stronger than anyone who had ever existed before him. So it wouldn’t be entirely unheard of for cursed energy to be stored in fingers, into eyes as he had mentioned. Would you have felt the surge of power if you had devoured one of Sugawara’s eyes? Perhaps the power would’ve been too much for your body to handle—if it was that easy to obtain power, more people would be killing and devouring each other.

If there was a risk of death when consuming the flesh of another with potent cursed energy, did Sukuna deem your cursed energy beneath his own where there was no risk? Or did he not care for the risk? Both questions burn in your mind, and Sukuna must’ve noticed you drifted away from the conversation as he breathes out a long breath that blows against the top of your head.

“You have questions, and you still hesitate to ask.”

“When I consumed one of your fingers, I felt this surge of energy. It was entirely different to what I felt through the vow, it was raw power. Like I was capable of breathing through you, capable of becoming you. What was that?”

The look that overtakes Sukuna’s face is that of calculation, something he doesn’t wish to share with you. “It was a risk, a gamble of life and death. It’s not unheard of for humans to become cursed objects.”

You know there’s more to his explanation, but something about the way his face becomes colder and more shut-off tells you that you shouldn’t pry further. Not right now. So you don’t push for an answer, opting to instead detangle yourself from Sukuna’s embrace.

He watches you silently, unmoving when you step around him to get out of the hotspring. His movements soon match your own, and you take a glance over your shoulder to watch the water roll off of his body. The steam curls around corded muscles and wisps around the quickly drying tips of his hair.

The warmth of your wet feet melts away the snow that had gathered on the snow path, and the crunch of Sukuna’s footsteps behind your own is loud. You come to a stop just at the edge of the courtyard, to find a pile of clothing that is clean and fresh.

An encroaching warmth presses itself against your bare back, each of his breaths pushing against your very skin until you’re forced to look back at the man imposing himself on your space. Sukuna only looks at you with an amused lift of his eyebrow, holding out a hand in expectancy.

“Your silence is loud, brooding over nothing is unfitting for someone like yourself.” He speaks once you drop the black cloth into his hand, which he unfolds to reveal loose-fitting hakama trousers. He slips them on, not once breaking eye contact with you—he’s challenging you already.

“I’m not brooding.” You retort, perhaps a little childishly, as you turn around you pick up your own haori to sling over your shoulders. Sukuna at least takes a minuscule step back to allow you to dress yourself. “If you won’t tell me the whole truth, I’ll only find it out myself.”

“Of course you will. Your determination is what sets you above others.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” You don’t take the lead through the doors, instead opting to fall into step next to Sukuna. His eyes are set forward once again, and the shadows that overtake the corridor hide his growing smirk.

“You wish for me to feed you everything like that of a baby bird? You’re no fledgling, not anymore. I prefer for you to figure things out for yourself, it turns me on to see you’re more than a brainless woman.”

Your nose wrinkles for a brief moment, lips parting to retort with how he’s nothing but a pig—but instead your feet slow to a stop.

Faintly, there’s the feeling of something creeping up the length of your spine. A warning. You turn just in time to see a shadow move, slinking closer and closer. The smell it carries is one of a strong perfume; a floral scent that could only belong to someone trying to hide their true nature. It’s enough to even have Sukuna stopping in his tracks, half-turning to watch the shadow grow closer and closer.

“I did wonder if you’d return.” Kenjaku’s words carry through the darkness until they step forward, only illuminated by the moonlight that seeps through the cracks of barely opened windows. “I thought you might’ve succumbed to their torture.”

“Kenjaku,” Sukuna grumbles her name in the form of a greeting, and you watch Kenjaku flick her eyes towards Sukuna for a brief moment before they return back to you.

“It seems our little lamb is more of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” She grins, and nothing about it is kind. It’s conniving, her eyes filled with a glint that promises chaos. “Everyone is already talking about the carnage you rained down upon your own family—of course, they’ve already said it was someone else. Someone more… fitting, for their fable.”

“I don’t care for their hushed whispers of deceit.” You reply, even if it tastes like ash on your tongue. Replaced, in only a matter of days—assuming that’s how many days had passed since you were saved from the estate. The entire journey home you were unconscious, recovering mentally and physically from such a demanding battle.

“Don’t you?” Kenjaku takes a step closer, and Sukuna finally shifts on his feet until you can feel the warmth of his body close to your own. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re angry, beyond that, you’re the embodiment of unresolved rage and the chaos that you breathe…”

“That’s enough,” Sukuna growls the words, no doubt threatening to bare his very teeth at Kenjaku. Instead, she smiles, not paying much mind to the man who could rip her head off before she even blinked.

“Of course.” Kenjaku bows her head concedingly before her eyes flit back to meet your own. “Tomorrow, we should talk more. I’d love to know the details of how you handled that sorcerer—the one who possessed the Six Eyes.”

Sukuna doesn’t speak for you this time, instead, he waits to see if you’d give your time to the woman before you. You can’t help but feel apprehensive about it, every encounter with Kenjaku had ended poorly. She had no regard for those who were seen as the strongest, as she herself was just as strong. She was a terribly strategic woman, everything she did was for a reason.

But that was a brain you wanted to pick at. A woman such as her would know endless amounts of information, she had mentioned they were already spinning tales of what had happened — she must have her ways of learning such information across the entirety of Japan.

“Of course.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes and Kenjaku doesn’t miss it. “Tomorrow. I look forward to hearing the stories widowers and aged men have started to spin in my image.”

Kenjaku grins this time, a fox with teeth filled with venom. “Very good.” Her attention finally drifts to Sukuna, and the look on her face is something you can’t decipher. A message perhaps, spoken without words between two violent creatures. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

She bows deeply, before disappearing back the way she came with a feline-like grace.

You turn to find Sukuna watching where Kenjaku had slinked off to, two arms crossed over his chest whilst the other two are buried in the pockets of his hakama trousers. “Don’t let her capture you in her web.”

“How kind of you to warn me.” You muster the playful tone you need, and Sukuna only glares down at you. It’s enough to make you drop the act, he was serious about his warning. “I know she’s not who she seems to be.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Kenjaku is stronger than you realise. I may value her strength but I do not trust her, and neither should you.”

To be recognised by Sukuna for your strength was a feat in itself, he didn’t hand out the compliment freely. It had taken quite a beating for him to give you that—you wonder if Kenjaku and Sukuna had fought previously, a fight between two warring creatures that battled for the top spot on the food chain. It’s evident that Sukuna had prevailed, as Kenjaku is the one who bows her head in the presence of Sukuna.

Yet, something feels wrong with the compliment that comes from Sukuna. He knows more about her true nature, about who she is beneath the mask she slips on in his presence. He wouldn’t tell you more, it was up to you if you wished to dig further into the past of a woman who was more volatile than Sukuna himself.

Neither of you exchange a word until you’re outside a door, it slides open and you immediately realise it’s not the bedroom you had been staying in before you had ventured down to the village. Sukuna steps in first, immediately heading towards the hearth to ensure the flame doesn’t die out so soon.

You glance around, it’s not too different from the other bedroom but it is noticeable. Furniture was in different places, the clothing that had been stored in wooden storage boxes had been placed in neat piles nearing the wall. Something tingles at the base of your neck, a buzz of your spine and you turn to find your weapon. Waiting.

As if you were on a tether, you’re drawn towards it. Your hand lifts to hover just over the hilt before you pause. There are residuals along the hilt, residual energy that you know intimately. Sukuna’s.

“I had intended on bringing it to you. But whatever you had done to it, your cursed energy would revolt against my own.” Sukuna’s voice is just over your shoulder, no doubt inspecting the blade when your hand comes down to touch the hilt. “It was as if it knew I wasn’t its owner.”

“Because that’s the truth. I must’ve made a vow with it when I created it, only to be wielded by one until death. One soul, one sword.” You release the hilt before you pick it up from the display stand, taking a deep breath. The sword was of an entirely different calibre of power, it was something designed to cleave the world. “I doubt there’ll be another in existence like it.”

You step away, turning to glance around at the room bathed in a flickering orange warmth. “Did the old room suffer damage?”

“It was destroyed when I realised you were gone,” Sukuna admits easily, unashamed that in a moment of anguish, he had ruined an entire bedroom. He moves away from your side to venture towards the cushioned seats on the floor around the hearth, folding himself easily enough to lounge in it. “Uraume was not impressed by the mess.”

“How is Uraume?” You find yourself wandering towards the bed, “I can sense them, out there. But it’s muddied as if they’re trying to hide.”

“Uraume is fine. You’ll speak soon.” Sukuna offers you a glance, before directing his gaze back to the flame. “Rest, you need to recover.”

You don’t argue with him, instead stripping yourself of the haori you had been draped in. You can feel Sukuna’s gaze on you almost immediately, only sparing him a look over your shoulder before you kneel down to get into bed. The sheets are freshly washed, soft against your skin and you can’t help but melt into the material.

It felt almost unreal to be back where you were safe and comfortable, your muscles take time to relax completely. But when they do, you realise your eyelids are already closing and sleep comes for you like a swoop of darkness, unable to be stopped once it consumes you.

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#dead dove do not eat #cw gore #cw dark content #cw violence #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

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