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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

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“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier.

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears.

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock.

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway.

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser.

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you.

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information.

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him.

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you.

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground.

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor.

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too.

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice.

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed.

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours.

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit.

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat.

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules.

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard.

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you.

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine.

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag.

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all.

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss.

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched.

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality.

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you.

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms.

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown.

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room.

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima.

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him.

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming.

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want.

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move.

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance.

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again.

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin.

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain.

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good.

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat.

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you.

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you.

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers.

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands.

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center.

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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wroteclassicaly · 3 years

Text

From Ashes to Pleasure

(Michael Langdon x Female Reader)

Pairings : Michael Langdon x Female reader

Warnings : Language, squirting, degrading, choking, humiliation, & rough sex.

A/N : Y’all, I honestly have no idea what this is. I felt like writing, a thought came to me, but then it all just turned into this nasty piece of filth! It’s unedited/slightly edited (because I read it over after posting, and decided I needed to come back into the post and edit a few things), it’s dirty, but I felt like my old self again when writing this! I didn’t feel stuck! So, I’m a happy girl! ^_^

Just a warning, this is porn without a plot! Michael is a total demonic daddy, he’s rude, and the sex is rough! I don’t think I’ve written Michael as this dominant before? Think of this fic as an alternate/follow-up to this fic here!! The title is just one of my random combinations, haha. Hope y’all enjoy?! ;)

~*~

You feel his fingers snake down your back ; quick and biting, almost every touch a sharp, pinching ache. He doesn’t really give you want you want, not yet. You deem yourself a Queen in his court of games, but you’re still the fool to his every wild card. Michael Langdon plays dirty by avoidance - one of his many, many talents. With an angelic face, he sees through you with demonic eyes.

You open yourself up to him and his devilish massage, uncaring if all of heaven and hell can see what you’re letting him do to you.

“You’re just like the ashes of a forgotten world,” He begins, draped like a covered kiss of sweet death over your back. “At my mercy and weak. A pitiful, steaming pile that craves to be whole again.” Is his brief finish.

You can’t deny this, shrugging a shoulder that catches on your favorite ring he possesses. “I’m only human, wouldn’t you say?” It floats from you before you can stop it. Instinct and comfort becoming one with their affair in your subconscious.

“Only humans disgust me. You disgust me,” Michael tries, knowing how ignorant that lie sounds to you both.

“If hell has an audience that watches you, they probably laughed loud enough to cause an earthquake, Michael.” You don’t stop the snort that leaves your lips.

A strong shift has you breathless and damn near floating, the room spinning from the force of the demon’s grip on you. Michael slams your nude body into the cold wall, his leather clad knee forcing your legs apart to give himself some leverage. Your head sizzles on a static overdrive, ears prickling with the blood rush that he causes by gripping your cunt so hard that you arch onto the tips of your toes.

“Do you think they’re laughing at this, Y/N? Or...” He presses in two rough fingers, stretching them to slosh your wetness. It’s embarrassing how pitifully soaked that you know you are. “Maybe this?” He twists you around to face him, your lips immediately opening for him when he presents his fingers.

You suck them clean, watching his scenic blue eyes sparkle in awed amusement.

“Perhaps they laugh at how predictable you are for the pleasure I offer you? Doesn’t that make you want to hide this beautiful pink pussy from view, so that you think they can’t see,” He stops himself, that honey hot voice lowering as his mouth nips at your earlobe. “How soaking, fucking, humiliatingly wet that you are?”

“Michael...” You’re trembling into quaking jumbles now, putty in his sinfully satanic hands.

“My disgusting human gets my cock so fucking hard. Every single time.” He’s smirking, petting your hair affectionately, this rough play continuing with a mutual rush.

“Maybe it’s humiliating that a weakling human gets a big ol’ bad all hot and bothered? Doesn’t that make you a slave to your desires too, Michael? Just like all of humanity?” You’re gaining a smart hand in your end of the court.

He isn’t expecting it, judging by the low feral groan that tumbles off his deliciously plump lips. You give a reach and steal a squeeze of his thick cock.

“You want me on bruised knees, servicing you like a hungry human? Swallowing you down with a salivating tongue? Because you’re about to fucking burst from those pants, Langdon.” You give a cocky inclination to his midsection.

He silences your sass with a firm hold on your windpipes. He uses it to drag you over to his desk, depositing your dripping form to its edge. He doesn’t make you lean back, instead letting you have the honor of watching him disrobe himself. He smacks your pussy in a scold, using what he gathers to coat his dick. Your legs are lifted to fit around his lean and muscular form, his hand finally adjusting you to rest on your back.

You let him watch you, let him choke the air from you in steals. There will marks, you know, but remain uncaring. When his hips slam against your pelvis, his balls smacking your ass, you arch to him with a gravity that’s home to you both. He meets you halfway, moments later, to indulge in a violent kiss, your teeth sinking down onto his bottom lip, licking away the coppery substance.

“Fuck, Y/N. That’s it, my human pet.” Michael is starting to shake, stamina increasing to find the finish line.

You knot your hand into his dirty blond locks, pulling so hard that you feel him swell in your cunt, coating your walls with his sticky warmth. You don’t dare move, only taking what he gives you. You need his permission to receive. He’s panting in jagged puffs of air, finally seeing you practically purring in the anticipation of your desperation. He pulls out sloppily, his cum smeared to your inner thighs as some leaks out.

He nods, helping you get onto the desk on your knees, the backs of his rings cool on your abdomen, as he holds you in place, retrieving that familiar item. Your stomach swoops in elation, eyes watering in the depths of need.

“Please, Michael.” Your voice is silk with the slick unshed tears.

Michael smacks your ass with his free hand a few times for measure, then he spreads your cheeks apart, sending you out one word to heed. “Arch.”

His hand slides with your form as you arch down, cheek pressing into the desk, Michael’s hand trapped beneath and cupping your breast, fingertips pinching your nipple. He clicks his tongue in that particular way that you know he does, and brings the leather riding crop down on your pussy. It doesn’t take much, not with his strong hand stroking and teasing your chest, his other causing hits so hard you know you won’t be able to walk or sit after this is all over. You’re screaming his name, cursing him, a dizzying array of sounds leap from your caught throat. Your vision is whiting out to those shapes you see.

It’s hazy and you’re drunk on it. You can’t even use your vocal chords, that unique twist locking your muscles down and then releasing so rapidly that you hear the squelching splash of your own release. Michael is bewildered and proud, obscenities coming from him as his approval is given, and your ears begin to ring. He lets go of you to catch you, your spent bodies sliding into the floor and next to the discarded crop. When you come back to your senses, Michael is sampling your orgasm off his fingers so vulgarly, that you want to ride him into the ground. You don’t know why, but a laugh barrels through you.

“What’s so funny?” Yet, you find that Michael is grinning too.

“Jesus, we’re crazy.” You say, snorting as you relax against him.

He raises a brow, circling your mouth with his fingertips. A Cheshire grin follows moments later. “You’re crazy. I’m the antichrist.”

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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

Text

sunsets for somebody else

Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.

The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.

Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.

“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.

“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”

“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.

She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.

“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.

For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”

Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.

“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”

Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.

“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.

Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”

“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.

Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”

As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.

Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?

The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!

When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.

Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.

They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.

Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.

Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.

The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.

In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.

Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.

“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”

She squints. “Cas?”

Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”

“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”

Emman—Cas nods.

“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.

“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”

“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.

“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”

Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.

“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”

Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”

Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”

Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”

“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.

Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”

“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”

Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”

“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.

Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.

“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.

“What do you do, Dean?”

Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”

Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.

“And what about you, Cas?”

“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”

“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.

“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.

God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”

“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”

“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.

She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.

Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”

Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”

Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.

#supernatural #destiel #castiel #outsider pov #daphne allen #the born again identity #contemplative writing

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bffsoobin · 3 years

Text

➤ soobin x reader, fluff, very slight angst, idiot best friends oblivious to their mutual pining

↳ prompt 33: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?

requested?: yes

warnings: swearing, mentions of small injury

A/N: I’m sorry if you were expecting more explicit romance but I feel like this prompt worked better as a mutual pining idiots plot. Also apologies if this is lack luster, it’s been a few months since I wrote anything non-academic!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You huddle underneath your comically large black umbrella as sheets of torrential rain pound down on it, washing across the pavement below your feet as if following the tide of the ocean. Your sneakers are soaked, squeaking pathetically as you shift your weight from foot to foot and grimace at the feeling of your socks soggy between your toes. Normally you would have been huddled in your dorm room, working on homework from the morning’s classes or watching reruns of Catfish just to grumble about how stupid a person could be.

But your best friend had texted you with a code blue, so you found yourself in the back parking lot of the campus library, enduring the rain that could only mean Noah’s Arc was due to float by any second. Wind whips your hair into your face cruelly and temporarily blinds you, as if mocking you for daring to brave the storm. You can do little more than scrunch your face oddly and shake your head from side to side in a desperate bid to get the locks away from you since there was no way in hell you were taking a hand off of your umbrella just to push your hair back. A car peels into the parking lot just as you clear your vision. It’s a humble silver sedan, a Hyundai of almost 20 years old, with streaks of rust on the back bumper and a sun-faded license plate. Even in the rain you can make out the litany of decals covering the back end, especially your favorite which boasts the term “MILF: Man I Love Frogs” in bold green letters.

There’s no hesitation in your step as you slosh through the rain to yank at the passenger’s side door, jiggling it several times until the telltale click of the unlock allows you to heave it open fully. Suddenly worried about the state of the car-which is littered with coffee cups, extra clothing, loose notebooks and sheet music and fast food receipts- you shake the umbrella off outside of the car before snapping it shut and closing the door. Beside you Soobin laughs, short and low.

“Thanks for shaking off your umbrella. Really counteracts the gallons of water your brought in with your shoes and pants.” He glances pointedly at where your feet soak the tan carpet into a dark brown and you bristle.

“Thanks for calling a code blue in the middle of a rainstorm. I wouldn’t have fucked your car up if you didn’t have an emergency.” Your voice softens at the reminder of why you’re here, and you finally turn to face him better after you buckle up. He’s devastatingly handsome, as always, but you feel your heart stutter at the fact that he’s wearing the hoodie you bought him for Christmas, the one he had almost slapped you for spending so much money on. It’s slightly damp from the rain and it casts his face in shadows along with the shitty weather and for once you hate the way it looks on him. He drives without asking, already knowing exactly where he wanted to go to talk out whatever had happened.

“I wouldn’t call it a total emergency,” he begins as Spotify takes a few seconds to switch between songs. “Just something I needed you to be in the loop for ASAP.” He looks your way again, eyes calculating for a few moments before the light turns green and he’s making the all too familiar right turn into the tasty and underrated diner that you discovered as freshmen. The rain has not slowed at all and the two of you run into the building to avoiding getting too wet, although your feet squelch with renewed vigor on the red and white tiled floor.

The lighting is much better at your favorite table, and after you place your order you’re able to finally get a good look at Soobin. His soft eyes are rimmed red and puffy, and you can’t tell if it’s the weather, the lack of sleep or his persistent allergies that are the cause. Maybe all three, or maybe something new entirely. He’s staring back at you just as clearly, studying your own face and mannerisms even though it had been years since anything about him was new to you. Of course, other than the day he casually pulled you into his chest and you realized just how tall and broad and handsome he had become.

The thought leaves as scarily quick as it enters, as Soobin turns his face to smile up at the waitress delivering drinks and you catch a glimpse of reddened, mottled looking skin just beneath the seam of the hood. As soon as the waitress retreats you lean across the rickety table and paw at the cotton. Soobin puts up almost no fight, knowing he’s about to lose a battle that hadn’t even begun. The delicate skin of his cheek is alarmingly bright red and looks angry to the touch. Bruises had already begun to form around the outer ring of the graze and your heart clenches when you realize that what you first thought was a circular bruise looks suspiciously similar to a fist. A symphony of anger and concern rise within your chest and your eyes prickle with tears that you know Soobin will wipe away for you if you let them fall.

“What-” you swallow, saliva suddenly feeling like it’s made of cotton, “Who did that?”

He smiles shyly, ducking away from your touch but you gently grab at his cheek, keeping him from moving too far. His eyes bore into yours, flicking down to your lips before bringing them back up. Slowly, as if scared to spook you, he encloses his palm around your wrist.

“Promise you won’t yell and disturb everyone else that’s eating?” You nod eagerly even though both you and Soobin know that it was a promise likely to be broken. His hand, steady and radiating warmth into the skin of your wrist tugs tighter, hooking on to you like a life line.

“That asshole Braden. I was passing him in the lobby of the math building and he was talking to his friends about how-” Soobin stops to swallow an invisible lump in his throat- “how he worked with you on some project and he kept talking about how stupid you were the whole time.”

Your face twists into a grimace at the reminder of that exact project and then the image of Braden, tall and wide with an angry round face; but then a laugh bubbled from the depths of your chest.

“To be fair, I was useless for that project. It was film class and it was about that stupid French movie I didn’t watch. So he’s not technically wrong.” Soobin’s frown twitched and then, to your surprise, deepened. Heart dropping at the sight, you felt a chill creep up the back of your neck. For as long as you’d known him, there was always a good chance that a well timed joke could curb his anger or sadness or frustration.

“It wasn’t that that got me, well, this. After he said that, he said that even though you were stupid he wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees.” You sucked in a simultaneous breath with Soobin, whose moody look finally transfered to you. It made too much sense now; why your joke hadn’t shifted his mood, why he was so vague about why he needed to talk to you, why he had that bruise. Your heart races as you begin to imagine how the skin will turn deep purples and greens, going sickly yellow around the edges. “It just pissed me off so bad. So I yelled at him and he squared up with me and before I knew it I was on the floor.”

To be honest, you were angrier that Soobin had come out of the altercation hurt than anything. You were used to the comments, the snide bullshit that falls from the mouths of your less kind peers.

“I’m going to kill him.” Soobin laughs, finally, as you clench your fingers into a tight fist around your innocent glass of strawberry lemonade.

“No, you’re not. I’m fine.” He finally removes the hood from his head, and if it weren’t for the bruise- which you now could see spread almost all the way to his ear- you would have been more interested in the fact that his shaggy hair had gotten even longer since the last time you’d seen it this close. You open your mouth to protest just as the waitress approaches again, this time balancing two hot plates of food on her arms. You flash her a sweet smile at the same time she notices the state of Soobin’s face and squints. She doesn’t say anything, though, and leaves almost as quickly as she showed up.

“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” You ask as soon as she’s out of earshot.

“Yes.” Soobin playfully scowls at you around a mouthful of french fries. Your heart skips at the adorable way his eyebrows knit and his dimples press deeper into his cheeks. Despite yourself, you smile, feeling the tension in the air dissipate around the pair of you. Soobin gestures loosely to the plate in front of you, wordlessly encouraging you to eat.

The pancakes you ordered are just as delicious as you remember them to be every time; fluffy and syrupy with just enough butter. Halfway through a chew, a new idea pops in your head and you struggle to keep chunks of batter from spewing onto the table as you speak.

“What if I just break his nose a little?”

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

things change | jhs

pairing: jung hoseok x oc

genre: FLUFFFFFF, established relationship

words: 3, 377

summary: when you're an unlikely pair but it works

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you weren’t with her?” Yoongi slurs, his alcohol breath apparent enough for Hoseok to scrunch in his direction.

Hoseok knew, though. What he meant. Drunk Yoongi got sentimental and curious, two perceptions that were dangerous independently and possibly collateral together.

“I don’t.” Hoseok shrugs.

Because being with you was the best thing that’s happened to him and he would be a crazy man to ever put himself through the angst of imagining a world that he was Jung Hoseok without you by his side. It was cheesy and he was sure if he said it to your face you’d groan and shove him by the shoulder. But he’s always been observant and he’d be the first to see the way your eyes soften in a way that no one else can notice but him.

“I do.” Yoongi snorts.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He’s careful with his words because Yoongi was no snitch, even if he was absolutely wasted. But Hoseok can’t say his interest isn’t piqued. Especially when he surrendered himself to the DD (designated driver) of the group.

“It’s just”—Yoongi sighs, sitting up and his drink sloshes in his cup when he places it onto the table—“I’ve said this before and you’ve probably heard this a thousand times but the two of you are so different.”

Hoseok remains silent but doesn’t do anything to give away the thoughts floating through his mind. He was half-expecting the same words to leave his friend's mouth, but having it be confirmed only makes Hoseok internalise his sighs.

“Yeah. You and every person who’s seen the two of us together.” Hoseok grunts.

“Look. I know you hate it when people point it out.” Yoongi says. “And I’m not here to tell you what you already know and on a fundamental level, we both know that the birds of a feather flock together bullshit is redundant and unrealistic. It’s just that every time I see the two of you together—it works. And it’s bewildering maybe because I can’t ever imagine _____ letting you win an argument.”

Hoseok blinks. “She doesn’t.”

Yoongi snickers, throwing the last bit of his drink down his throat before leaning back into the plush booth of the club they were at.

When Jin suggested throwing a bachelor party at one of the hottest nightclubs in Seoul, Yoongi and Hoseok almost ditched purely because the two of them had girlfriends and they didn’t really want to hear the end of the story if a stripper suddenly thought they were free game for the night.

Frankly, Yoongi’s girl was far more possessive but she was sweet. She just didn’t like it when people were actively trying to sleep with her boyfriend.

You, on the other hand, were simply unbothered. It wasn’t because you didn’t care—because you did. Hoseok knew that even if you’d roll your eyes at him when he’d joke about going to a strip club with the boys. But you weren’t insecure, and that wasn’t to say that women who were outwardly concerned were. You were just assured, and you made an effort to let Hoseok know that he needed you as much as you needed him—so anything he did wouldn’t just hurt you, but him too.

“It’s just that you’re basically the most cheerful dude I know and I don’t think I’ve seen you ever frown at anyone. Even the barista who fucked up our order four times.” Yoongi recalls. “Then there’s ____ who’s resting face literally is a big fuck you to anyone who breathes in her direction.”

Hoseok snorts, sipping his virgin cocktail. Even if he wasn’t the DD, he couldn’t do alcohol so the minty flavour of his drink was a night refresher for a tiring night (though he spent it just moping in his seat while the rest of his single friends partied away).

“I get mad too.” Hoseok shrugs.

“Yeah. Barely. Even then—you’re the most diplomatic person I know and you have a way of talking to people to get your point across without making them fear for their lives the next morning.” Yoongi deadpans.

“And sometimes diplomacy isn’t necessary.” Hoseok retorts.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m not shitting on your girlfriend. You don’t need to play social justice warrior here.”

Hoseok sighs before leaning back, mirroring the man spread Yoongi was in while he ponders his next set of words carefully.

Yoongi was probably one of the most chill people Hoseok knows, and maybe that was why they got along so well. Yoongi was a take-no-shit kind of man who was truly sensitive under all the intimidating layers he showed the world. Hoseok was just nice, but he was no pushover. It was a good balance that came out when necessary.

So Hoseok didn’t want to rub Yoongi the wrong way and tell him to stop talking about petty differences between him and you but also wanted to satiate the curiousity that lingers in his eyes.

“I know,” Hoseok says. A girl nearly topples into their booth but Hoseok spots his younger friend Taehyung grabbing her by the waist and shooting the two men a sleazy wink before he stalks off with her in his arms. Yoongi rolls his eyes but Hoseok can’t even be bothered.

“I mean,” Yoongi drawls. “Based on what you told me I know that the two of you don’t even want the same things in the future. And again—not saying there’s anything wrong with that—but didn’t you want kids for the longest time?”

Hoseok nods his head, deciding against his words.

Yoongi clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, nodding slowly as if he was processing Hoseok’s words.

“How did that … do you still want kids?”

“I want what _____ wants.”

Yoongi groans. “You sound like a total pushover.”

Hoseok levels a strict stare onto his friend, and even if Yoongi was older—there was something about a man who never got angry shooting him an intense stare that could make Yoongi zip his mouth.

“And kids aren’t endgame to a relationship. I love her, and yeah—I want kids. But she’s important to me and she’s here now. There isn’t a reason for me to condemn her or push her for a future that doesn’t exist yet. She’s the one carrying the baby for nine months and it’s her decision whether or not we have kids. Whether or not a kid comes along doesn’t matter to me because I’m with her because I love her and not because of a kid that isn’t real.”

Yoongi blinks. Then he huffs a breath out before letting out a low chuckle.

“Wow.”

“I know you don’t mean any harm but I don’t need to explain to anyone why _____ and I work so well together. But because you’re my best friend and you get oddly sentimental when you’re drunk I’ll spell it out for you and you better hope you’re sober enough to remember this tomorrow because I won’t repeat it again.” Hoseok says firmly.

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the serious tone Hoseok shifted to and observes the way Hoseok looks stern yet … soft, all at the same time.

“_____ is tough. In more ways than her exterior. She knows what she wants and what she’s ready for. And it was a goddamn miracle that she decided that what she wants and what she’s ready for was me. Yeah, she’s terrifying but she’s human—her heart is still pure and she’s a kind woman—person. Sure she’s systematic and needs an answer for everything but I’m her boyfriend and I’ll make sure that I can give her all the answer she needs to feel safe in this relationship. And yeah—we may not want the same things. She doesn’t want to get married but I do. But marriage isn’t endgame to me. She is. She wanted to move in together but I was iffy about it. So we live apart. That doesn’t change the nature of our love and she still loves me even if all I do is annoy her. So yeah. I’m willing to compromise and so is she. We’re different but we’re together.”

Hoseok is still calm as ever and there’s even a hint of a small smile on his face. The fact he’s smiling only testifies to the fact that you and Hoseok were so different from each other.

Yoongi is stunned to silence and sure he’s a quiet man but he usually had things to say, opinions to add. But Hoseok’s proclamation of your love only makes him sit in silence, letting the words dissipate in the atmosphere but remain in his conscience.

“Wow,” Yoongi repeats his words from earlier, but it’s all he can muster up.

Hoseok offers his friend a kind smile, sipping the rest of his drink while his friend can only stare at his nonchalant demeanour.

“And if you still don’t see it.” Hoseok grins. “There’s a reason why you don’t. I’m the only one that gets to fall in love with her like this.”

Yoongi whistles lowly before rolling his eyes. “No need to get possessive.”

“I’m a man in love. Sue me.” Hoseok shrugs with a slight smirk.

Yoongi gags at the cheesiness even if he finds himself internally grinning at his best friends blatant love for his girlfriend. He was sure it was the alcohol that was making him mushy—or perhaps Hoseok has always looked the way he did when he spoke about you. Eyes bright under dark lights and the heart-shaped smile of his becoming wider.

“If it counts for anything …” Yoongi trails off, offering a lazy smile to Hoseok. “I really hope she does marry you.”

Hoseok scoffs at Yoongi’s blatant optimism. Sure, he wanted that. He wanted nothing more than to see you in white, smiling only at him—or even with your usual stoic face—he doesn’t care. But he knew that the event itself would never change the fact that he wanted to be with you, now and forever. If fate wills, he’d marry you in a heartbeat. But Hoseok was content—and more importantly, he was in love.

“It doesn’t. But thanks.”

extra scene

“Hi, my love and my absolute sunshine.” Hoseok coos the next morning, and that’s the first thing he says when you open the door to your apartment; eyes already rolling to the back of your head.

“Did you do anything to piss me off?” You ask dryly.

Hoseok snickers, but pulls you in by your shoulders to give you a wet smooch to your lips that has you whining. You don’t push him away because you knew it was just the two of you and possibly one of your snooping neighbours.

“As you love to remind me during arguments—my existence is enough to do that, no?”

You nod your head, patting him gently on the cheek as you offer a half-hearted smile. “I’m glad you’re on the road to self-actualisation.”

Your boyfriend snorts, stepping into your apartment as he makes sure to leave his shoes on the shoe rack instead of idly laying on the floor because you were anal about things like that. And he missed you so he didn’t want you shooting him death stares just yet.

“You keep me on my feet.” Hoseok flirts, tone a little sleazy and you can’t help but sigh at your boyfriend's antics even though a hint of a smile marks your face.

When Hoseok settles into your couch, he immediately spots a wrapper that looked like it went into gift boxes—a pretty shade of green, which was his favourite colour. He immediately leans forward and eyes it with furrowed brows before looking up at you.

“My pretty baby got me a gift?” He wiggles said brows as you scoff at him, plopping into the seat next to him as you lean into his embrace.

“See for yourself.” You shrug, face still remaining blank.

Hoseok chuckles, already expecting your reaction even though everything about the placement of the wrapper to the strategic colour scheme of it screamed a gift for Hoseok. He knew you still got flustered when you did nice things for him, even if he’d argue that was on a daily basis because you were just a loud lover in a way that let your actions speak for your affection.

He wants to coddle you further, snuggle you so hard that you’d whine and attempt to shove him away until you decide that you secretly love it and hold him tight. He was so in love. But he placates the shift of your knee in a way he knew was due to your patience wearing thin.

So, he picks up the wrapper and realised that it was much lighter than he’d expected; and lacked the density of a usual present. It almost seemed like you were pulling a prank on him for no apparent reason. But Hoseok trusted you and knew that you weren’t the type to pull shit like that because you just had better things to do.

He unravels each crevice, eyes still searching for the gift that somehow never comes—all until he finally settles on a stick that he vaguely recognises from pharmacies that he never thought would be in his hands, staring up at him with two straight lines.

The silence is loud, but Hoseok is stunned. His mouth falls agape as he cradles the pregnancy test in his palm, eyes not bothering to look at your nervous expression. One that rarely comes from you just because you were an assured person in general and seldom needed validation from others.

But you loved Hoseok and you knew deep down that he’d always have an effect on you, words or actions—presence or not.

“Hobi?” You call softly, voice nervous as you fiddle with the hem of his shirt as he blankly stares at the test.

You’re terrified you made a mistake—or if he’s changed his mind because of your pessimism on the idea of having children. Sometimes you wonder how Hoseok could love you, all edges and harsh lines when you spoke. A woman who was either black and white or purely a grey area. Hoseok was the rainbow on dark days and brightened any environment.

You can’t read Hoseok’s face, and it scares you. Because you usually can since he was an open book. So when he finally turns to you, and you finally get a proper glimpse of his expression—

First, you see tears.

“I-Is this …?” He chokes.

Your eyes widen, immediately reaching out to cradle his cheeks as an involuntary reaction.

“Why are you crying?” You feel yourself tearing up and you try to suppress it. There was something about you being so connected to Hoseok and his feelings that made everything he felt translate to your own conscience.

“Y-You—I-I—you’re pregnant?” He whispers, eyes returning to the stick.

You nod your head slowly. “I am.”

Hoseok nibbles on his lips and you wait patiently for his next response. You can more or less guess that he’s happy yet confused, the conversation of potentially having kids never really showing any progress. But he’s been patient and so loving—and you thought you’d never shake but here you were.

The next thing you know, Hoseok is wrapping his arms around you so tightly that it hurts as you try to gasp for air. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck in a way that makes all your edges turn round, and your heart melt from the stone wall it was into a flurry of emotions that only he can bring out of you.

“We’re going to have a baby?” He asks softly, pulling away to clasp his palms around your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“We are.” You reply, equally as soft; eyes and tone. “You’re going to be a father, Hobi.”

And somehow, that breaks him. He can’t stop the tears nor can you. So you allow him to cry, and you allow yourself to feel too; holding each other close as you feel his hand reach out for your stomach. And you can’t deny the butterflies that erupt.

When he manages to regain his composure, wiping at his eyes; he looks at you so earnestly and gives you a wide smile that drew you in from the moment you met, and grown to love.

“You really want this?” He asks, eyes concerned but tone irrevocably gentle. You knew he wasn’t doubting your choices, but respecting them.

You nod your head.

“For the longest time … I thought kids weren’t for me. That I wouldn’t be a good mother because of how I am.” You tell him, and you see Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow and you know he’s thinking about denying that. But Hoseok has never been the type to interrupt you while talking. “And maybe I won’t be, maybe I will. But having you here with me just reassures me to know that our baby will have the greatest, most loving and most patient father out there.”

Hoseok’s eyes soften, knowing how big of a decision this must’ve been for you.

“I love you.” He whispers when he leans in to give you a slow kiss on your lips, one that wasn’t leading anywhere but was nice enough to feel the emotions pouring through.

You don’t say it back, but you look at him with gentle eyes that only he can recognise—and he knows. He knows your heart like you know his.

“You’ve compromised a lot of things for me, and I know I’m particular about many things. I have a plan ten years down the road of where I’d like to be in my life—and I never thought I’d be planning with a kid in mind.” You chuckle softly, and Hoseok pulls you closer so that you’re resting your head against his chest. “But you make me want to do things I’ve never done. And I really—I really want this baby. I want him or her to grow up thinking about how badass their parents were even though their mom is a total bitch and their dad is the mediator of the family.”

Hoseok snorts, brushing his hands through your hair.

“How long?” He asks.

You grin against his t-shirt, not looking up when you fiddle with the fabric of it.

“I’ve been feeling symptoms for a month now, and the test was from a week ago. I went to the doctor to be sure because I knew from the moment I suspected it that I wanted it to be true, for you, for me—for us.”

Hoseok tilts your chin up, offering you the smile you love so much and you feel so … happy.

“Next thing you know I’ll have you walking down the aisle.” Hoseok sighs, happy and content.

You roll your eyes, narrowing it at him as you push on his chest to sit up.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jung.”

Hoseok wraps his hand around the back of your neck before pulling you close to meet your lips again.

“Let a man dream.” He grins against the kiss.

He can feel your giggle and the way you do the thing that you do when you’re secretly ruffled but adore him way too much to pull away.

“You know this means we have to move in together, right?” You murmur against his lips.

Hoseok snorts. “Duh. But you know you already have a home in my heart, right?”

You expected it, but it doesn’t make it any less cheesy when you groan and shove at his chest. Hoseok cackles, fully loving the way you scrunch your eyebrows in distaste at him.

“I hate you.” You scowl.

“No, you don’t.” Hoseok sings, resting his head against your shoulder while he looks up at you with innocent eyes.

You’re happy, and so is he.

And a few months down the road, Hoseok drops a ring into your palm, no words or expectations. You roll your eyes, as usual; but you slip it onto your ring-ringer anyways.

#bts imagines #bts fics #bts jhope #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #jung hoseok #hoseok imagine #hoseok fic

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Text

Unorthodox: a Sesskag oneshot

Summary: Kagome is pleasantly surprised to receive a present from Sesshoumaru for White Day... until she glimpses the contents inside her gift box.

AN: Written for the Sesskag 2021 Big Bang event on tumblr! @chierafied

I was paired with @milomai-art and here’s their lovely artwork: https://milomai-art.tumblr.com/post/648766972634513408/unorthodox-mythicamagic-inuyasha-a-feudal

Rated K+

Words: 3,000

You can read it on Ao3, Dokuga or fanfiction.net.

Unorthodox

Valentine's day had come and gone, with a notable difference this year for Kagome compared with the last lonely three;

Her return to the Sengoku Jidai.

To celebrate reuniting with her beloved friends, she'd gone all out. Everyone received gifts, right down to Myoga and Jaken; no one had been excluded.

For all her efforts, however, she expected nothing in return. Though she'd explained the concept to the Inutachi, Sango and Miroku were much too busy looking after their children to keep track of dates, Shippo was often away at Kitsune school and Inuyasha had been absent as of late. Besides that, since their relationship had ended, the subject of Valentine's had become an awkward one. She'd had to stress the platonic intent behind her gift to him.

Therefore, Kagome had pretty much forgotten all about White Day by the time it rolled around.

Exiting Kaede's hut with a tub of water in her arms, intending to give the old miko's horse a good scrub down, she dug in her heels the second exquisite silks, armour and a fur pelt registered- having blinked into existence before her. Kagome gaped, swaying. Water sloshed, some spilling to their feet.

"Uh hi," looking up at grave, handsome features, she arched a brow. Sesshoumaru stared at her fervently. "Nice to see you, Sesshoumaru," adjusting her grip, Kagome sidestepped him and flashed a warm smile, used to his minimalistic approach to conversation by now. "Do you need something? Inuyasha isn't here. I think he's helping the next village over repair a-"

"I am not here for him."

Kagome noted his succinct tone, sounding more defensive than usual. Setting down the wooden tub carefully, she straightened, tilting her head. "Then what are you here for?"

"White Day."

"White... ah!" Kagome gasped, "that's right! How did you know about that?" she blinked, noticing he looked extra grumpy today. His jaw ticked, golden eyes narrow. Slowly, the miko brightened. "No way. Did you... get me something?" she breathed, strangely touched.

Of all people, Sesshoumaru had remembered? Was she dreaming?

A hand thrust out stiffly towards her, balancing a small box upon his palm.

Accepting it with thanks, heat touched her cheeks. Weird. She really shouldn't be indulging this- or feeling kind of happy. It didn't mean anything to be pleased, right? Was she even allowed to feel warm and fuzzy towards her ex's brother?

Opening the lid, Kagome tried to squash her excitement- peering down. Slowly, she reached in, retrieving a silky soft thing.

It appeared to be made of something long, silver and fine, the material woven into a pretty design. A bracelet of silk, if she could hazard a guess.

"Um, thank you," Kagome raised her gaze. "What's it made of, out of curiosity? It's very soft."

Sesshoumaru appeared pleased, preening a little. "Only the finest material."

"Really?" she stroked it. "I hope you didn't go to any trouble on my account."

He scoffed, midsummer gaze smiling slightly as his tone became haughty and prideful, "it was no trouble to use this one's own hair."

Kagome dropped the bracelet back into the box. "Whut?"

Lithe fingers combed indulgently into his fall of lustrous silver hair, "you need not be alarmed. The strands grew back quickly."

That isn't what's alarming me, Kagome silently screamed. Now that she was paying attention though, the pale bracelet really did resemble the demon lord's long flowing locks.

Her hand recoiled a little from the box. "W-well, um... thank you very much," Kagome said thinly. "It's a very thoughtful gift. Truly."

Sesshoumaru's keen, piercing eyes roved over her strained features, voice deepening. "If you do not wish to accept it-"

"N-no, I do! I'll wear it right now!" Kagome grabbed it madly, fiddling with the thing while repressing a shudder. She tried and failed to secure the clasp, stiffening when large hands closed over her hand.

The demon lord leaned forward- that same hair currently being secured around her wrist falling free from behind a pointed ear. Silver strands draped down like a gossamer curtain, tickling her flushed, sensitive skin.

Sesshoumaru tilted his head up, expression unreadable.

Shifting her wrist, Kagome observed the threads of hair wrapped around it. His bracelet felt odd, the concept totally foreign. However, she could feel how much the gesture meant to him. She didn't fear offending him because of his dark temper- more because she cared about his feelings and wanted to nurture any hint of a bond between them.

"Thank you," Kagome said. "No one else brought me anything today, so I'm...I'm grateful."

Even if it was the weirdest thing she'd ever received. A bracelet made of hair wasn't exactly traditional.

Straightening, Sesshoumaru's lips thinned as his eyes flickered with confusion.

Kagome blinked, wondering what else he'd envisioned her saying.

"Hn," inclining his head regally, he pivoted sharply and began stalking away quickly, giving a swift kill to the conversation.

---

Without a frame of reference for how long he desired her to wear it, Kagome tugged her sleeve down to hide the bracelet from curious eyes during the next few days. She tried to ignore the sensation of hair continually brushing her skin.

"I wonder if it means something important," Kagome examined it while sprawled out upon a grassy hill, taking a break from her miko duties Kaede had started dishing out ever since her return.

Sesshoumaru had seemed extremely serious while giving it to her. Then again, the gift could've meant nothing. Maybe his hair was just THAT valuable in the Daiyoukai's opinion. She snorted, twisting her wrist and watching silver threads catch on sunlight, making it shine white. "His ego is big enough. I'd believe it. Heh, maybe he'd also give me one of his eyelashes, or a fingernail or..."

Why was Sesshoumaru heading towards her?

Sitting up and fussing absentmindedly with her hair- removing a few stray leaves- Kagome felt heat flood her face.

Okay, no- she shook herself, putting a firm lid over the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. Too strange. Enough of that.

The Daiyoukai stopped a few feet away, expression detached. Kagome knew by now to ignore it in favour of looking into his eyes. They were intent and unblinking today, hinting at his seriousness.

"Hi," she said, patting a spot next to her. "It's rare for you to visit the village again during the same week. What's up?"

Sesshoumaru cocked his head to the side at her odd term. Kagome bit her lip, finding it endearing. Her attention strayed, noticing yet another box sitting innocently upon his hand.

She paled. Oh no.

Gracefully sweeping himself down onto one knee- he thrust the new box out towards her, giving Kagome a dizzying sense of Déjà vu.

I was joking about the fingernails. Please be something normal. Please.

Accepting it gingerly, blue eyes flicked up towards him. "White day is over, you know."

"This one is aware."

"So...why the new gift?"

Sesshoumaru pretended to be interested in the gentle bubbling stream not too far away. "Because it pleases me to give it to you."

He was so difficult to figure out. Not wanting to squash his newfound sense of generosity, Kagome carefully removed the lid.

The contents did not look promising.

Trying not to jump to conclusions, she reached in and removed the long necklace. A single solitary tooth hung from the chord.

"Ah," Kagome squinted. "Open your mouth a sec."

Sesshoumaru's lips parted wordlessly, mouth opening wider to reveal a gap where one of his sharp canines used to be.

"This...is yours?" she asked weakly.

Sesshoumaru closed his mouth and nodded primly. "It will serve you well, should you have need of it."

In what way would I ever have need of a tooth? a wrinkle marred her brow as she considered it, coming to a small realisation. "To make a sword from?"

"Hn."

Well, that explained a small piece of the puzzle. In a very 'Sesshoumaru' way- it almost seemed a little sweet, practical even.

However, this did not help assuage her naturally squeamish reaction while looking at the freshly plucked tooth.

"Thanks," she said lamely. "I-I'm sure it'll be very useful if I visit Totosai in the future."

Her answer didn't seem to be what he was looking for. Sesshoumaru's gaze flitted from her to the dangling fang. "Females... prefer jewels, make-up or clothing, I suppose."

Kagome scratched her cheek, "depends on the lady- but you really don't have to worry, Sesshoumaru," laying a hand over pale knuckles resting upon his knee, she gave a squeeze. "I'm touched you're being so thoughtful. There's no need to give me anything else though, I have more than enough."

His nostrils flared, jaw setting stubbornly. He drew himself up to stand, "you are too modest."

Feeling thoroughly discombobulated, Kagome could only watch as he pivoted with all the grace of a dainty dancer, stalking away with billowing sleeves.

---

For two weeks, Sesshoumaru continued visiting the village at random intervals. His flair for turning up at the most unexpected times made it difficult for Kagome to anticipate his visits. Sometimes he'd arrive bright and early, others- nearing nightfall. Occasionally he'd visit Rin, but their interactions seemed distracted. Rin would whisper fiercely to him while gesturing in Kagome's direction, but he'd ultimately leave without speaking a word to the miko.

It was odd, confusing. She'd used to think of Sesshoumaru as a fairly straightforward demon. As of late, he'd been downright unpredictable and... flakey. She kind of missed their previous easy interactions when she'd pick herbs and prattle on while he occasionally offered a word or two. His silence had felt comfortable rather than awkward.

I don't know how to get that back, Kagome thought sadly.

A chilly wind passed by, breeze rushing around her exposed neck. Adjusting her miko garb, she sneezed, shivering a little. Autumn would soon be on its way.

The heat of an intense stare sent a new chill down her spine. Kagome turned, sensing it- only to find Sesshoumaru gazing at her intently.

Was it her imagination, or did he seem absurdly pleased? As though struck by a revelation.

As was typical behaviour for him, the demon lord began walking away without a word.

---

Trudging back from training in the woods, Kagome shouldered her bow while walking around a thick tree- only to quickly stop, almost bumping straight into polished armour.

Sesshoumaru stood before her, holding another box. This time it was larger, more of a rectangular shape.

"M-more?" Kagome squeaked. Her heart thundered. It felt like so long since they'd last spoken.

Sesshoumaru inclined his head gravely, "hn."

Biting her lip and somewhat dreading what cast-off part of him could be inside this time, Kagome grasped the lid and removed it- only to slam it abruptly back down.

"What… what is that?" she asked thinly.

Sesshoumaru's lashes fell shut and slid open in an unruffled blink.

"My fur."

I thought as much.

Kagome removed the lid with trepidation once more, lifting out the lush, soft coat. Even while her hands sank into the cloud-like material, blue eyes remained wide with distress.

Sesshoumaru seemed to guess her line of thinking. "It is discarded fur that I have shed, not cleaved off. Do not worry."

"O-okay," she said thinly. It's still weird though. Too weird. Imagine if I'd made a coat of shed skin.

It was so odd that Kagome felt a line needed to be drawn, placing it back into the box and numbly accepting it from him. "Sesshoumaru… I have to put my foot down now. I appreciate your gifts but I can't accept any more."

He stiffened, the burning embers in his eyes freezing into glassy orbs.

Kagome rushed to explain, "it's very sweet of you, and I appreciate the thought. I'm just not, uh…sure they're suited for a human. Besides, you seem to be worrying about what to get me instead of talking to me. I'd rather we just spoke like old times instead of this awkwardness."

"I see," he said stiffly.

She took a step forward, eyes widening when he took one back and turned. "This one did not intend to give you things deemed inappropriate and unwelcome. Farewell."

"Wait-!"

Too late, Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hand.

Kagome grit her teeth, sighing and balancing the box on one hand. Damn it.

Slowly, Kagome lowered the box onto a tree stump and gingerly lifted the coat. It felt lush and divine, her hands disappearing within the sheer volume of fur. Sliding her arms into the sleeves and putting it on, Kagome wrapped it around herself, feeling like she were enclosed in a giant fluffy cloud. His static youki brushed her skin intimately, fanning out from the strands.

It was big. It was a little ridiculous. It was wonderful.

Kagome groaned, burying her face in her hands. Sure, the idea of him collecting his shed fur to sew into a coat was strange by human standards, but actually wearing the coat, she now understood his simplistic intent.

He'd just wanted her to be warm.

"You're such a weirdo," she grumbled, blushing and dipping her nose into the fur. It smelled like him; wild forests, with the hint of refined smoke from a pipe.

Maybe she was weird too.

---

He was absent for an entire month.

Sesshoumaru figured it would help ease the sting of rejection. The second he caught Kagome's fragrance, however, it was like an old wound had been ripped open again.

His lips thinned, firmly keeping all emotion locked tight behind a placid mask as he visited Rin.

Chatting with the girl allowed him to soothe his stung ego for a while, distracted by Rin's news about the village and her training. Occasionally she would mention the miko and his chest would tighten again. How pathetic of him.

Once his cup lay empty and Rin mentioned the need to leave in order to assist the older miko, Sesshoumaru took his leave.

Stepping foot outside Kaede's hut, however, he froze.

Kagome stiffened before him, swathed in furs- his furs- he dimly noted.

More than that, lithe fingers curled around the fang resting at her collarbone. The silver bracelet of his hair caught the light before disappearing beneath the length of her sleeve.

Kagome's cheeks heated, and she thrust out a box, letting it rest on her palm.

"I asked around," she muttered. "Inuyasha was clueless, and Shippo kept laughing whenever I tried to ask him what was going on. Luckily Myoga happened to stop by," blue eyes pinned him in place. "You could've told me what all the gifts meant instead of leaving me in the dark."

Sesshoumaru did not accept the box just yet. "I thought my intentions were achingly clear."

Embarrassingly so, for a proud demon.

"Not for humans!" she huffed, lowering her hands a little. "I was confused the whole time! How was I supposed to know that you were giving me a betrothal bracelet, or that the fang was for any half-demon children I might have when they need a sword? I kind of figured out the coat, but I didn't know it represented your intentions to provide for me."

Sesshoumaru stared. Oh. Perhaps he should've listened to Rin about courting the miko after all.

Cheeks scarlet, Kagome sighed, lifting the lid of her box off and removing something from inside.

"May I?"

Sesshoumaru nodded dazedly, golden eyes widening. His entire being thrummed, heart picking up speed.

Shifting closer, Kagome pushed some dark locks behind her ear, the length slightly shorter than usual. Sliding a black bracket around his striped wrist, Kagome swallowed. Her hair had been woven into a band much like his, though nowhere near as intricate.

The demon stared at it, fixated. Baser instincts purred.

Molten gold eyes slowly raised to pin her with a disarmingly reverent look. He spoke no words of poetry, no love or longing, but it was there, he hoped. Abundantly clear. Kagome seemed to recognise it for what it was now.

She smiled a little, hugging her arms and scuffing her foot. "Don't get the wrong idea; I'm not saying I'll jump into marriage with you, but it turns out I'm kind of interested in dating you. Really... interested," Kagome forced out, obviously embarrassed but soldiering on. "If it's okay, we could...do that," she finished lamely.

Sesshoumaru took a step forward, invading her personal space. She blushed exactly the way he'd hoped she would, babbling. "So the uh- think of the bracelet as a dating bracelet! Maybe down the line it could...it could become an engagement thing," she murmured, voice dimming in the wake of his proximity.

"Hn," honeyed eyes smiled, careful claws unfurling to find her chin. "That would be pleasing," he uttered in a faint rumble, tipping his head down. "I accept."

Satisfaction rolled through him fiercely as she tilted her head just so- lips meeting and brushing feather-light against his. Emboldened, Kagome's hands found the collar of his hankimono just as he took her by the waist as though entering a dance, tightening.

Sesshoumaru let his eyes flutter shut, inhaling sharply through his nose. He could smell her so bright and clear—the sweetness of tangerines, faint, exotic soaps—and her mouth so warm. Kagome kissed him, firmer, hand finding his hair- fingers curling. His breath began to roughen the longer their kisses went on. His heart chanted the truth of it all- 'yours.'

If the foolish woman wanted him, he'd already given himself to her. The ticklish brush of her hair claiming his wrist made him smirk against her mouth, glimpsing his own band of white around hers and revelling in a plume of possessive pride.

Perhaps it was unorthodox by her standards, but they were not exactly normal themselves. And so, Sesshoumaru drowned himself in the curious, raw newness of the strange miko, surrendering to all the oddities that would likely follow during their strange courtship.

End

#sesskag #sesshomaru x kagome #sesskag big bang 2021 #inuyasha #sesskag fanfiction

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gingerpeachtae · 3 years

Text

Concentric [24]

masterlist

Words: 25.5k 🤡

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, guilt

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: pls accept this long update as apology for making y’all wait 6 months 😭 also brace yourselves cuz whew this one is a doozy. ENGOY! 💙

The forest was a blur of green and brown in the Saeni’s eyes. Their feet pounded against the ground in controlled yet rushed footfalls. The air was filled with sounds of rustling leaves and creaking trees. Bird calls and trickling water. Ragged breaths and suppressed groans.

Wincing at his burning thighs, Tae slowed his pace ever so slightly to allow Jungkook to have the lead. The blue-eyed Saeni glanced to the side and took in the blood on his brother’s back. The crimson flower was getting bigger. Red flowed from the maknae’s back, trailed down his leg, and stained the earth behind him in small marks. Yet, Jungkook continued to press on.

Just as Tae went to open his mouth to try to reason with his brother again, to try to get Jungkook to stop and stay put while he went on and looked for Jimin and Y/N, a putrid smell floated over with the breeze.

The distinct smell of death and decay.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whispered in a raspy voice as he came to a stop and turned in the direction of the stench.

“I know, I know,” Tae said back quietly while also slowing down.

Both male’s chests heaved rapidly and their bodies felt heavy and sluggish from exhaustion. Tae rolled his shoulder and retrieved an arrow from his quiver before silently notching it. Then, they began to creep through the trees and shrubbery with soft steps. Neither of them could hear anyone or anything besides the forest… but they still went slowly.

Once the putrid smell was strong enough to make his eyes water, Jungkook grit his teeth and reached over his shoulder to unsheathe one of his short blades.

The metal flashed in the sunlight and Jungkook held it firmly, but Tae placed a hand on his arm and warned, “Don’t do anything stupid. You’re in no shape to charge in full force.”

Jungkook shook his head. “If it’s for her… for her and hyung… I can do it.”

Tae fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Shut up. We go in slow and see what we’re dealing with. Got it?”

The other male huffed, but after a few seconds he nodded.

About a minute later, when the smell almost made them want to gag, the two Saeni brushed through a collection of leaves and thin branches. And then they saw them. The bodies.

A quick count revealed there were thirteen in total. All dead. Some were riddled with arrows, others with stab wounds and slash marks. One of them was even speared to a tree.

But what made Tae and Jungkook freeze was that they recognized some of them.

Three of them, to be exact.

The female speared to the tree trunk, the male with an arrow impaled through his throat, and the male slumped against the base of a tree.

Jungkook released a shaky, uneven breath and whispered, “Hyung, they were the ones… the ones selected to go with-”

“Chim and Mingi. I know,” Tae answered in a quiet voice as his body started to tremble with both fatigue and fear.

As the burgundy head released a weak “fuck fuck fuck!” and stumbled to the side to brace himself on a low-hanging branch, Tae lowered his bow and stepped forward to silently walk through the gruesome scene. He inspected the other bodies strewn across the forest floor. All draikensu. No sign of Chim, Y/N, or Mingi. Exhaling, he went to walk back to Jungkook, but a disturbance on the ground caught his attention. Crouching down, the blue-eyed Saeni lightly trailed his fingertips over the overturned dead leaves and lifted his gaze slightly.

The same disturbance continued into the trees, leading away from the bodies.

A dull, thumping sound broke Tae’s attention and the noise made him quickly turn his head to the side. The Saeni saw Jungkook pull his arm back from the tree he was leaning against and pound his fist into the trunk again.

“What happened to them? Where are they? Where are they!?” The younger male squeezed his peridot eyes shut and ground his fist into the rough bark.

“Kook? Hey, calm down!” Tae shot to his feet and ran to his brother. Before the younger male could punch the tree a third time, Tae grabbed his wrist. “Jungkook! I checked the bodies. They’re not here… they’re not here.”

Jungkook whipped around to face his brother and pulled his arm free. “Then where are they?”

Tae had no answer. The male just opened his mouth and almost instantly closed it again.

“Hyung, where are they!?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” The older male shouted back in a stressed tone, his crimson-stained feather earring swaying erratically from the outburst. “I don’t know, okay? But I saw some tracks leading away from here, so I’m going to keep going. You should stay here an-”

“I’m not fucking staying here.” Jungkook’s jaw ticked and he returned his short sword to its sheath with a grimace. “Let’s go.”

You tightly gripped the buckle on Jimin’s armor as you both limped forward over the stones and vegetation scattered on the creek bank. You were supporting each other as you took slow, heavy steps, and Jimin was clutching the strap of your quiver just as desperately as you were holding on to him. Neither of you were willing to let go of the other. It was almost like you both needed the physical reassurance that the other person was truly there and breathing.

That you both were.

Water splashed around your ankles and onto your legs as you both stumbled into the creek. The water was so cold it made you sharply inhale through your teeth and pause your explanation of why you’d left the field and how you’d arrived at the rift. Before you could return to your story, the stone you had begun to step on tilted dangerously to the side under the water and almost made you twist your ankle.

“Ah! Stupid fucking rock,” you muttered under your breath while defiantly kicking at the stone with your heel, causing water to spray into the air.

Jimin tugged on your quiver strap to get you moving again while asking if you were okay.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine. I’m just…” You let out a lethargic sigh and looked up at the sky. “I’m really over today.”

Water sloshed over the sand, pebbles, and weeds on the bank as you both reached the other side of the creek and exited the stream. Resisting the urge to just drop your ass down on the sun-warmed rocks and never move again, you squeezed Jimin’s buckle and begrudgingly heaved yourself up and over a large tree root. As you looked down to see where you were stepping, you saw the wooden tendril was speckled with droplets of red. It was just a mere piece of the dotted trail you were forced to follow as you left the rift’s location, and although it was your umpteenth time catching sight of it, it still made your chest tighten painfully. You tore your gaze away from the blood, not wanting to think about who’s it was. Or how he was no longer with you.

You sniffed, cleared your throat, and raised your eyes in front of you. Through the sunlight filtering in between the leaves, you recognized a dark lump wedged between two rocks.

Remembering you were supposed to be sharing how you had found Jimin, you pointed your chin at the body of the wolf. “Anyway, I heard the howls an-”

“Jungkook, you need to slow down!”

Your body flinched at the sudden sound breaking the peaceful chirping and buzzing of the forest then stilled with one foot left raised in the air.

“Jungkook?” You whispered in disbelief and placed your foot down gently while Jimin asked, “Was that… Tae?”

Jungkook…? And… Tae…?

Apprehensive hope surged in your heart at the thought of the two Saeni being near, but… why would they be out here? Why weren’t they at the field? Or were you simply so tired that you’d imagined the voice? You slowly blinked then turned your head to look at Jimin in confusion. Your gaze met his brown eyes but he looked just as unsure as you felt.

Neither of you moved. You barely breathed. With your heart beating wildly in your chest, you waited to hear the voice again.

One… two… three seconds passed…

But you heard nothing besides the trickling of water, shifting of leaves, singing of birds and bugs, and light, anxious breathing coming from yourself and the half-Saeni next to you.

It was probably just the wind and my mind making shit up. There’s no way Kookie and TaeTae are actually here.

But…

Jimin heard it too.

Tentatively, you lifted your free hand and wrapped your fingers around the hilt of the dagger at your side as the wind picked up and blew strays wisps of hair in your face.

“For Exia’s sake, you’re going to pass out!”

Your eyes widened at the voice and you involuntarily tightened your grip on the dagger. At the same time, Jimin sharply inhaled and lifted his head in the direction it had come from, making his sweaty apricot hair shift over his forehead.

He nodded once to himself. “That-holy fuck-that’s definitely Tae.”

You had also verified the owner of the voice that time and before you knew it, you were hoarsely screaming the Saeni’s name into the dense trees. Jimin joined in moments later, your scratchy voices mixing and resounding into the air together. After your screams faded into dry coughs, you and Jimin gulped air back into your lungs while you let go of the dagger and adjusted your hold on the half-Saeni’s buckle. Then, you both surged forward. As fast as your wobbly legs could manage, you and your best friend limp-ran past the remainder of the blood trail, the dead wolf, and a couple of scattered, stray arrows to where the earth began to incline.

As you stepped over a large rock on the ground and started to climb out of the gully, the familiar deep voice shouted back in surprise, “Chim!? Little scorja!?”

Tae’s voice made you close your eyes for a second; you were just so happy to hear him, to know that he was alive. A tiny, relieved smile tugged at the corner of your lips and after sucking in a breath, you quickly yelled back that you were coming. Your voice echoed into the expanse of the forest as you grabbed on to thin tree trunk with your free hand. Using the tree to pull yourself up a few more steps, a hiss escaped past your lips in between your ragged inhales due to how much your thighs were burning and shaking. You were honestly shocked they were even still working, but you kept telling yourself you were minutes or possibly even seconds away from seeing Tae and Jungkook. You would be damned if your legs gave out before then. Likewise, Jimin was mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “I think I can, I think I can” over and over again to keep himself motivated and moving through his own pain.

Less than a minute later, you were nearing the top of the gully. Impatience swelled inside you, and you somehow forced your aching body to move just a little faster and pulled Jimin with you. Though in your haste, you slipped on a clump of loose dirt and fell forward to your knee with a sharp curse.

“Come on. Come on.” Jimin reached over to grip your arm and heaved you back up with a subdued groan in his throat.

The two of you staggered the rest of the way up until the ground finally leveled out. Breathing heavily, you both paused and sagged against each other in exhaustion. But only a couple heartbeats later, you were tugging on each other to move again. Leaves and twigs crunched under your feet, thin branches whacked against your legs and hips, and the low shrubbery violently shook in your wake as you hurried through the trees.

While you shivered in the cool shade cast by the leaves and branches high above your head, you darted your eyes around to desperately search for signs of the Saeni. Your gaze flickered over the endless tree trunks, moss-covered boulders, thorny vines…

And then you saw it through the blur of leaves. The smallest splash of pinkish burgundy among the greens and browns of the forest.

Jungkook.

You whispered his name gently, feeling your eyes begin to sting as you fully made out his figure. In your peripherals, you saw Jimin look at you then follow your line of sight.

He let out a soft, breathy laugh and released his hold on your quiver strap. “Go on. I’ll catch up.”

Tearing your gaze away from the Saeni in the distance, you glanced at your best friend to see him smiling at you. The half-Saeni kept his warm brown eyes on you but tilted his head toward his younger brother, silently telling you to go on ahead. You pressed your lips together and peeked back at the burgundy-haired Saeni before returning your attention to Jimin. You stared at him for a split-second then nodded, your stiff hand falling away from his buckle.

After lightly squeezing Jimin’s arm, you turned back to Jungkook and took a step forward.

Then another.

And another.

And another and another and another until you were nearly running. You barely registered the throbbing pain in your legs. All you cared about was reaching him.

“JEON JUNGKOOK!” You screamed with a big, dumb smile on your face.

Immediately, his burgundy head was facing your direction and it almost looked like a shudder ran through his body. Not even a second later, though, he was sprinting toward you.

Somewhere to the right, you heard Tae’s deep voice call out. “Little scorja? Where is…? Chim? Chim! Oh, thank goddess.”

You didn’t even look to the side to see where your blue-eyed friend was. You were entirely too focused on who was in front of you. Who was almost to you.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

So close that when he ran through a ray of sunlight, you could see the gold flecks in his eyes flash brightly. You also noticed the dried blood coating his skin and armor but it didn’t faze you. You too were stained with crimson. It was just a nasty aftereffect of fighting for your life and taking others.

Lengthening your stride to avoid tripping over a bundle of roots in your path, you felt the stinging in your eyes turn into a waterier sensation as your tears threatened to spill over.

Closer. Closer. You got closer closer closer…

And then you collided with each other, the thudding impact nearly forcing you to lose your breath. The male stumbled back from your momentum and you both teetered on the uneven ground before he firmly planted his feet and wrapped his strong arms around you.

As you closed your eyes and leaned into him, a small voice in your head said it was strange how Jungkook had stumbled back. You’d launched yourself at him countless of times yet he’d never done that before. It was unusual, but you mentally told the small voice to fuck off. He’d just fought in a damn battle, for Exia’s sake. He was probably exhausted just like you were.

“Y/N, f-fuck. Fuck. I was so worried,” he murmured in your ear while holding you as close as possible. Like he though you would slip through his hands and disappear if he didn’t. “Y-You weren’t on the cliff anymore… you… you weren’t there. I thought you-goddess-I thought you died.”

The end of his sentence came out choked and he shakily breathed in. Your heart panged at the grief filling his voice, and a single tear slipped down your cheek and cut through the dirt and dust on your face. Once the lone tear met the crease of your lips and you tasted its salt, several more tears followed suit. As they trailed down your skin, his fingers moved up your spine until they found the back of your neck and lightly grazed over your mark.

“I’m sorry-I didn’t mean-Jimin needed help.”

Chuckling lowly at your stammering, Jungkook slightly pulled back to cup your face in his hands. While holding your gaze, he traced his thumb over your cheek to wipe away your tears before they could drip off your chin. Your lips parted slowly and you looked into those bright peridot eyes, finally feeling safe for the first time since the sun had peeked over the horizon. Finally feeling like you could let your guard down. Finally feeling like you could breathe easily. With a content sigh, you unwound your hands from Jungkook’s neck and went to gently hold his wrists.

But right as you touched his forearms, his legs suddenly buckled and he collapsed to a knee. With your face still caught in his hands, you involuntarily followed him by bending at the waist and your eyes widened in confusion. Lowering his head, Jungkook released a pained moan while you heard Tae and Jimin call out in concern. Worried, you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, but it was then that you finally registered how pale his skin was. How colorless it looked compared to the deep red spattered across it.

Wha-?

Jungkook raised his peridot eyes to yours and gave you a strained smile while his grip on your face weakened. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a… a little tired, but I’m the best, remem-…rememb-” His words were cut off as his eyes rolled back into his head and he limply crumpled to the ground with a solid, dull thump.

A series of curses rose into the air from the other males while you frantically said Jungkook’s name and dropped to your knees. He was on his side, limbs loosely splayed out. Your breathing got faster as you placed one of your hands on his shoulder and the other near his hip. Tenderly but firmly, you shook Jungkook to get him to open his eyes. To move. To say something. To do anything. But nothing happened. He was utterly silent and still except for the smallest rise and fall of his chest. You swore, shifted your gaze to his face, and was wondering what the fuck you should do when realized one of your hands felt strangely warm… and wet. Body going rigid, you slowly drew your eyes down to your hand resting on Jungkook’s hip… and then you lifted it. Your palm and fingers were smeared with red. Blood. Fresh blood. And it was coming from Jungkook. Flinching at the sight, you felt your stomach drop and body go cold as full-fledged panic instantly rushed through your veins. Yet you couldn’t do anything but stare at the blood for a few seconds, completely frozen and scared. You watched as the crimson liquid gradually ran down your wrist in small, thin rivulets, and your hands began to tremble. Everything else in the world faded to some distant, fuzzy background. You couldn’t see anything but red. Couldn’t hear anything but your own pounding heartbeat. Couldn’t smell anything but the now familiar reek of iron. No trace of peridot or burgundy or florals mixed with hard steel. It almost felt like you weren’t even in your own body anymore. You were just in a suspended state of bloody shock and disbelief. It lasted for one… two… three… four seconds and then you were slammed back into reality. After gasping and pushing the unconscious male onto his back, you leaned over him to grab his ghastly face in your hands, causing his cheek to be painted with even more red.

“Jungkook? Jungkook!? Hey hey hey, come on. Come on, wake up.” Distress and fear laced your words. “You gotta wake up Kookie.”

“Shit, I told him not to push himself so hard!” You heard Tae’s frustrated voice carry over with the wind and it sounded closer than before.

Pressing your lips together to hold in a sob, your throat grew tight and your vision went blurry as tears started to drip onto Jungkook’s face. The droplets rolled off his cheeks and you shook your head while a whimper came from your lips.

Letting go of his face, you fisted your hands on top of his chest. “You need to hear what I wanted to say earlier. You said I could tell you later, right?”

But he still didn’t move. He didn’t even stir.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. After a single shuddering inhale, cries began to wrack your body and you collapsed forward until your forehead weakly laid against Jungkook’s armored chest.

Not even a second later, you heard Tae skid to a stop beside you and then felt him tugging at your arm. “Stab wound on his back. On his back. On his back.”

His words seeped into your brain and it threw your already overwhelmed mind into a daze. Your eyes grew unfocused and you blinked as you let the Saeni pull you away. Then you started replaying those words over and over again like a broken reel. Stab wound. Stab wound. Stab wound. On his back. Stab wound on his back.

“Fucking Exia! Why didn’t you stop when I told you to!?” The blue-eyed male shouted at Jungkook before rolling his unconscious brother back to his side and applying pressure to the wound.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, forcing more tears to quickly stream down your cheeks, then crawled a few feet so you could gently lift Jungkook’s head into your lap.

After brushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind his long ear, you quietly said, “You… You said I could tell you later.” You traced the edge of his ear to the tip as your voice cracked. “Well, it’s later so you gotta wake up, okay? You need to wake up so I can tell you.”

No response.

Your muscles tensed and your bottom lip quivered, but your body suddenly felt hot and your cheeks burned. “Don’t be a coconut-headed asshat and go back on your word! Wake up so I can tell you, dammit!”

Tell you that I love you. That I’m in love with you.

Please.

The snap of a breaking twig made you shoot your head up and you saw Jimin hurrying over with a handful of big leaves. He dropped to the ground between you and Tae and wordlessly shoved the leaves at the blue-eyed Saeni. After grabbing them with one hand, Tae hastily shoved them under his other palm that was pressing against Jungkook’s wound.

He was using them to help control the bleeding.

The apricot head then turned to you and abruptly requested that you give him Jungkook’s dagger. Too caught up in your mind-numbing hysteria and not understanding why he needed a blade right then, you slowly looked from your best friend to the ruby gemstone glittering at your hip in bewilderment.

“Dagger. Dagger now, Y/N!”

His sharp tone cut through the fog in your brain and you sniffled while shifting your hand over the dagger. Your fingers briefly hesitated; knowing how important the weapon was to Jungkook, you didn’t like the idea of someone using it without his permission. Even if it was his brother. But Jimin was also aware of the dagger’s history and you knew he wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, so you curled your fingers around the hilt and pulled the blade from its scabbard. Flipping it in your hand, you held it out to Jimin, who snatched it from your grasp and leaned over his legs. As blood continued to leak out around the leaves and Tae’s fingers, the half-Saeni yanked the hem of his pants out of one of his boots and maneuvered the blade underneath. Then, a ripping sound came from the fabric. A few more seconds and rips later, Jimin was holding a decently-sized chunk of the durable fabric and was giving the blade back to you. Quietly, you took it from him while steadying Jungkook’s head in your lap with your other hand. As you tightly squeezed the hilt, Jimin nudged Tae and told him to move aside. Somehow, they managed to smoothly transfer jobs and Jimin was now using the patch of fabric to try to staunch the bleeding as Tae stood up unsteadily. The male’s now blood-covered hands hung at his sides while his blood-soaked feather earring swayed in the breeze.

His blue eyes solemnly gazed down at Jungkook’s face before they suddenly sharpened with resolve. “I’m going back for help. Don’t let him die.” Then, after taking a deep breath and a final look at his brother, he pivoted on his heel and ran into the trees.

His soft footsteps swiftly melted into the symphony of the forest, and you prayed that he would come back quickly. Returning your attention to Jungkook, you gripped the dagger in your hand until your knuckles strained against your skin while hoping the familiarity of the action would bring you some sort of comfort. It made you think of glittering peridot eyes and cocky smirks. Nervous stammering and provoking comments. You tried to hold onto those memories as firmly as you could. Both the good and the bad ones. Memories filled with tender touches and shy words. Memories made of angry glares and heated emotions. Memories of him. Memories with him. But as you listened to Jimin try to coax Jungkook back to consciousness, you looked down at the unresponsive male and could only think of how you were on the verge of losing him.

Losing the person you loved.

While your breath stuttered as you tried to inhale deeply, you brushed your thumb up and down Jungkook’s strong jaw and silently pleaded with him to open his eyes.

Wake up… wake up… please please please, wake up.

Wake up.

Please wake up.

Your eyes shot open and your body flinched as you recoiled from the painful dream. But the attempt to get away was stopped short as you realized you were laying down and had nowhere to go. Then it hit you that it was completely dark. Head spinning and breathing rate rapidly increasing, you squinted into the blackness. It took you a few seconds for your eyes to come into focus, and you let out a relieved exhale when you registered the familiar room. Slowly unfurling your curled-up body, you pushed yourself into a sitting position on the bed and gazed out the window. The faint glow of the moon and distant tree lanterns came in through the open spaces where the branches were woven together, and a gentle yet warm breeze was floating into the room. But despite the warm air, you still had to hug yourself as you shivered from the dream.

No, not a dream. You reminded yourself and squeezed your arms around yourself more tightly. It actually happened.

It had been nearly two weeks since that day, or Draikiltho – The Dark Morning – as it was now being called. Two weeks since Amarok and the rift. Two weeks since Mingi sacrificed himself. Two weeks since you last saw Jungkook.

The dream was your memory of that day, and as much as you didn’t want to remember it… your brain began to recall what had happened next.

“You’re not allowed to die until I’ve made you watch all of ‘Ablatar,’ Spongebob, and Game of Thrones, you idiot,” you faintly whispered to the unconscious male while pressing down hard against the wound on his back.

Red stained your palms and wrists, and continued to slowly seep out around your hands and the patch of fabric beneath them. Jungkook was still breathing… but it seemed like his inhales were gradually getting weaker and further apart. Biting your lip, you looked over to Jimin, who now had his brother’s head in his lap and was running his hand through the male’s burgundy locks.

“It’s going to be fine, Kook. Tae will be back soon and he’s bringing help.” Brown eyes lifted to meet yours and he tried to smile reassuringly. “He’ll be back soon. It’s gonna be fine. Totally fine.”

A broken laugh that sounded more like a weak sob came from your lips. “Don’t make it sound like that damn meme.”

“It’s… It’s gonna be fine.” His eyes went back down to Jungkook’s face. “It’s gonna be fine.”

You pulled your knees up toward your chest and took long, deep breaths as the memory continued to play in your head.

You weren’t sure how long you had both been sitting there in uneasy silence. You were too focused, too worried, too scared to really have any insight into how much time was passing. It could have been five minutes, thirty minutes, over an hour since Tae had left. You had no idea.

Despite your arms trembling from applying constant pressure and your body shivering from the cool shade, you continued to press down against Jungkook’s back. Your tears had finally stopped some time ago, but you didn’t dare wipe at the dried tracks they had left on your cheeks. You were terrified that if you shifted even the barest amount, if you let up just the slightest amount of pressure on the wound, then Jungkook would be gone.

“Y/N, you’re shaking like crazy. Let me take over,” Jimin offered in a soft voice but you shook your head.

You were about to reply that you didn’t want to risk switching positions again when you heard a faint rhythmic sound rise up through the rustling leaves and creaking trees. It steadily grew louder and you stiffened while Jimin carefully lifted Jungkook’s head so he could stand. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the half-Saeni limp forward a few steps until he was beside you.

“I hate to ask this, but I think I’m gonna need Kook’s dagger again.”

Slowly taking in a breath to try to ease your mind, you nodded. The sound was so close now that you could make out that they were footfalls. Someone or many someones were coming your way. Jimin muttered a curse and braced a hand on his knee to bend down and reach for the blade at your waist.

Please don’t be more trouble. You closed your eyes. Please be you, Tae.

The apricot head had just closed his fingers around the hilt when your prayer was answered.

The familiar grey-haired, blue-eyed Saeni burst through the dense thicket followed by three other Saeni you didn’t know.

Tae’s eyes widened in utter relief when he saw you. “Thank goddess,” he gasped out before collapsing to his knees and harshly sucking air into his lungs.

While Tae leaned over to support his body on his hands, the other Saeni kept moving forward. Blinking, you noticed one of them was carrying two long, thick branches and there was something that looked like cloth hanging between them.

They were next to you in the next second, and you did your best to keep up with the sudden barrage of movement and sound. The Saeni with the branches and cloth, which you realized was a makeshift stretcher now that it was up close, went to the side and laid the stretcher flat on the ground. The second roughly told Jimin to step aside while the third crouched beside you. The Saeni looked at you expectantly, but when you didn’t do anything, he nudged you with his arm. You didn’t move. You looked down at Jungkook’s pale face and shook your head. You were still too scared to move away. Even though the small part of your mind that was still coherent and not overwhelmed knew that you should, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

I can’t. I can’t just leave him. They’re going to take him away. I know they need to. I know they have to. But I… I…

You felt a light hand on your shoulder interrupt your mental discourse and your best friend quietly said your name. Pressing your lips together while you silently took in Jungkook’s face, you thought of his peridot eyes and crooked smiles. A gentle ache filled your heart. After hanging your head for a moment, you then scooted over an inch or so to let the Saeni know they could take over. In a flash, his hands replaced yours and you held your breath as the other two Saeni situated themselves at Jungkook’s head and feet, counted to three, picked him up, and transferred him onto the stretcher.

You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want him to leave you.

The Saeni lifted the stretcher.

I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them. I would just slow them down.

The Saeni that had nudged you looked your way and gave you a sharp nod but your eyes never left Jungkook’s figure.

He needs to get help as soon as possible. That’s what’s important.

The Saeni at the head of the stretcher barked out an order to move out.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. Please stay alive. I need you.

A final brief glimmer of pinkish burgundy hair through the leaves and shadows…

I love you.

Then they were gone.

Jimin’s hand tightened on your shoulder and you clenched your own blood-coated hands into fists where they rested against your thighs. Breathing heavily, you tried to reign in your swarm of emotions but you felt like your heart was made of cracked glass that was ready to shatter at any moment.

“Oh, you’re going to shatter?” It was too easy for your mind to imagine Jungkook’s teasing voice and arrogant chuckle. “Is it too much for the little human to handle?”

Narrowing your eyes, you deeply inhaled through your nose then slapped a mental Band-Aid over the cracks. No… no, asshat, it’s fucking not.

Reaching up to cover Jimin’s hand on your shoulder, you let your eyes linger on where you had last seen Jungkook for only a few more seconds.

I’ll see you soon.

Then you shifted your gaze to Tae, who was struggling to catch his breath as he braced himself against the earth. Patting Jimin’s hand, you let out a long puff of air and pushed yourself up to your feet with a groan.

Hooking arms with Jimin, you both stumbled over the rocks, roots, and low shrubs until you made it Tae.

The male flicked his blue eyes up as you unsteadily approached. “The fighting is over… but no magic users… could come. Too many… injured… at the field… and many of them… are drained.”

Weakly smiling at the male, you ignored your shaking legs to bend down and offer him your hand. “Thank you for getting help TaeTae.”

Jimin did the same and you both helped the spent Saeni stand.

“He’s… He’s going to okay, right?” Tae asked in a small voice as his chest continued to heave rapidly.

Your teeth tugged on your bottom lip. His words made another fracture appear on your fragile heart and paralyzing worry started to seep into your mind again…

“Come on sweetheart, I thought you were tougher than that.”

Steeling yourself, you slapped yet another mental Band-Aid over the new crack before sniffing and raising your chin to look Tae in the eyes. “Kook’s a big boy, right? If anyone can survive getting stabbed, running around like crazy, and losing a shit-ton of blood, it’s that annoying, stubborn asshat.”

The boys stared at you in shock for a minute, thrown off by your sudden change in attitude, until Tae broke out in his signature boxy grin. The sight made you smile again, this time more brightly, and the corner of Jimin’s mouth pulled up too. The three of you looked at each other, grins slowly growing and growing and growing. And then you were all laughing. It was absurd and crazy and you didn’t even know why or how you were actually laughing, but there you were. The three of you wrapped your arms around each other as your sore bodies shook and your eyes got teary. You laughed until your stomach muscles hurt even more than they already did and kept laughing until your giggles transformed into hiccups and cries. You buried your head into Jimin’s chest and he muffled his sobs against your hair while Tae clung on to your arm and wept on his brother’s shoulder. Eventually, you all quieted down but you stayed in each other’s arms.

As you were sniveling and clearing your throats, Tae suddenly looked around the area then furrowed his brows and tilted his head. “I didn’t have time to ask earlier but where’s… where’s Mingi?”

You clutched at the bedsheets and pressed your lips together, telling yourself not to cry. After slowly counting to ten in your head, you looked over at the small table in the corner of the room. Even without sunlight, the ruby gemstone of Jungkook’s dagger seemed to shine brightly in your eyes from where it rested on the table. Your hand twitched, aching to hold the weapon, but you just sighed heavily instead and reached up to touched the silver feather and chain at your neck.

The sun was beginning to lower behind the treetops when the three of you finally made it back to camp a few hours later. It had been a slow, painful journey, and your nerves had only increased with every sluggish step you took. Your legs were cramping, your stomach was churning, and your eyelids wouldn’t stop drooping but you couldn’t let yourself rest. You needed to find Jungkook and the rest of the kiela.

Jungkook first. You told yourself while limping through the trees, Saeni, and campfires with Tae and Jimin. Make sure Jungkook is okay then go find the others.

You weren’t exactly sure where the medical area was set up but it wasn’t hard to pinpoint the direction it was in. The agonized screams and cries echoing through the forest sadly made it easy to know where to go.

You let out a tired exhale and lifted your eyes from the ground to take in the gloomy atmosphere of the camp. All around you, Saeni were in different states. Some were frantic and crying, some were staring blankly into the trees, and others were talking in hushed voices.

I wonder which one I’ll be like in thirty minutes. You thought while carefully stepping around a small scattering of white wildflowers in your path.

The wails and sobs had gotten louder, and you glanced sideways at the boys. They met your gaze and gave you weary nods, but in the process of doing so, Tae stubbed his toe on something hidden beneath the foliage and tripped. He nearly face-planted but Jimin was fast to grab his brother’s arm and steady him. The blue-eyed Saeni grumbled in annoyance before a small pout flashed across his face, which made you release an amused puff of air. As Jimin made sure Tae was alright, a fast, dark blur out of the corner of your eye suddenly caught your attention. Your brows furrowed and although you assumed it was just a bird of some sort, you turned your head to see what it was. That was when the blur raced past you and tackled Jimin and Tae in a hug. Sucking in air through your teeth, you watched as someone enveloped both the boys in their arms and your hand unthinkingly went to the dagger at your waist. You curled your fingers around the hilt without hesitation, ready to pull the blade free from its sheath, when you realized the person had simple silver hoops in his ears, dark, raven-black hair, and broad shoulders.

A smidge of tension left your weak body and your fingers fell away from the dagger as you lightly called out the male’s name in astonishment, “Jin?”

“Get in here little scorja.” The eldest of the kiela peered over Jimin’s apricot head with a smile and reached his hand out toward you.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you murmured and your body relaxed further as your brain fully registered there was no actual threat.

“At least you didn’t get slammed into without warning,” Tae tried to pointedly gripe but his voice came out muffled from being smushed against Jimin and Jin’s bodies.

“Sorry,” the raven-haired male said, but his face didn’t show any remorse. “I just got so excited when I saw you, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a tiny step forward then yelped as Jin’s hand wrapped itself around your wrist and forcibly yanked you into the hug.

“You were taking too long,” he whispered as the boys shifted to accommodate you.

Sagging into the warmth of the hug, you clutched at whatever buckle or strap your unsteady fingers could find. The four of you slowly swayed back and forth with the gentle breeze, just holding each other. Blowing out a long breath, you rested your head against Tae’s back and closed your eyes. But instead of a calming darkness, you stiffened when a crimson-covered face with peridot orbs and burgundy hair appeared behind your eyelids.

“Wait. Wait.” You suddenly pushed yourself away from the embrace and your heartrate began to beat fast once again. “Jungkook. Jin, have you seen Jungkook? Do you know if he’s… um, if he’s…?” Your heart jumped into your throat and your voice got small as the unfinished question trailed off into silence.

You were too scared to finish forming the words. Too scared to hear the response you were dreading but also so desperate to know what happened.

As Jin’s dark eyes widened at your pleading tone, Jimin stepped back and searched his brother’s face for an answer while Tae quietly slipped his hand into yours. Grateful for something to hold onto, you gripped his hand like a lifeline as you waited.

Jin’s face then softened and he rested his hand on your shoulder to look straight into your eyes for a moment before moving his gaze over to his brothers as well. “He’s going to be okay.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you faintly gasped.

“What did you say?” Your best friend asked in a demanding yet bewildered tone.

“He’s going to be okay.” Jin gave you all a reassuring nod. “Jungkook’s going to live.”

He’s going to be okay. He’s going to live. I get to see him again. You slumped, the tension in your body disappearing, and you placed your palm over your racing heart. I get to see him again.

At the same time, you felt Tae give your hand a squeeze as he bowed his head and sighed. Jimin let out a shaky laugh and looked up at the sky through the leaves while muttering under his breath.

“I was just with him, actually. He’s sleeping and in a stable condition but he’ll be healing naturally, without magic.”

You listened intently as Jin explained there were simply too many Saeni with more serious and pressing injuries. The magic users couldn’t spare to use their energy to heal Jungkook completely, so they had only used a small amount to get him stabilized and sleeping. Then they had bandaged him up and were now letting him rest. The medical personnel were going to watch over him and change his bandages as his body healed itself but he probably wouldn’t be up and moving for at least a few days.

Feeling your heartbeat finally slowing down to a more normal pace, you moved your hand so your fingertips could lightly graze the ruby on the hilt of Jungkook’s dagger. “Can I see him? Please?”

Jin’s shoulders dropped and he shook his head. “I wish you could. I really, really do, but they’re only allowing in one member from a patient’s kiela at a time unless the wound is fatal.” He made an aggravated noise while removing his hand from your shoulder. “And although we view you as family, you’re not officially recognized as part of our kiela.”

“Oh…”

You looked down at your feet. I can’t see him?

“Why did they even make that rule?” The blue-eyed Saeni next to you complained, which drew your eyes back up. “It’s stupid.”

Jimin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Even Illai agrees with that.”

“Huh?” Jin leaned forward to peer at his brother’s face in curiosity. “You can still hear the mother goddess?”

“Ah, yeah. She told me that she isn’t able to…”

You tuned out their conversation, too caught up in the thought that you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see him. Fuck, you couldn’t see him. You trusted Jin, of course, but you still wanted, no needed to see him.

What if he gets an infection? What if he never wakes up? What if-

Two firm pumped to your hand pulled you from your thoughts and you looked over to see blue eyes worriedly gazing at you.

“…you’d think them sharing a bond would be enough reason to bend the rules,” Jimin said with an irritated expression.

“You’d think.” The raven-haired male released a dry, condescending laugh before glancing your way and clearing his throat. “Maybe we can explain the situation once things are calmer.”

With a level voice, he then promised you that Jungkook was fine and no longer in danger. In response, your head jerked down in a small nod but you didn’t say anything else.

“Alright, well for now let’s get some rest. You all look like you really fucking need it.” The eldest Saeni gestured for you all to follow him as he swiveled on his heel. “Joon’s in a meeting with General Son but Hobi and Yoongi should still be at the fire we claimed a couple hours ago.”

“They’re all okay?” Tae asked almost timidly while stepping over a fallen log with stiff movements.

“Yoongi is passed out from using so much energy but he’ll be fine after a lot of sleep. Hobi almost died but Yoongi was able to save him, hence why he’s so exhausted. Joon is okay too, besides taking a knife to his thigh.”

They’re safe. Maybe not in perfect condition, but the whole kiela is safe.

Jin looked back over his shoulder. “By the way, what happened to Mingi? Did he go meet someone when you got back to camp or…?”

You, Tae, and Jimin all paused and uneasily looked at each other until you softly said that Mingi didn’t make it. You tried to ignore the heaviness in your heart by turning to look at the setting sun through the trees. The burning orange peeking through the leaves was beautiful but it didn’t do anything to ease the dull pang in your chest, so you returned your gaze to the forest before you. Meanwhile, Jin hadn’t said anything in response but you could see that his body went rigid and his hand was closed into a tight fist.

About ten more minutes passed of quietly weaving through the forest and the scattered fires. The sounds from the medical area could still be heard but they were starting to fade into the symphonic sounds of the birds, bugs, and leaves. The Saeni were the same, though. A haunting mix of mourning wails, empty gazes, and low whispers. You involuntarily flinched when a particularly violent sob screamed into your ears, yet you forced yourself to keep your eyes on Jin’s back. You didn’t want to see the face of the male who made the tormented noise.

I just spent the day experiencing so much death but somehow, it’s the aftermath that unsettles me the most.

You rubbed your temples then dragged your fingers down your face.

I guess sometimes death is more painful for the ones left alive.

The memory of hazel eyes flashed in your mind but you hastily blinked it away while ducking below a branch.

The sky was getting darker and darker; only a thin stretch of orange sunlight was still visible on the horizon. Within a few minutes, the forest quickly became a blend of cool darkness and pockets of warm, flickering light.

Although he was only a few steps ahead of you, Jin peeked back to make sure you were all still with him before he turned left behind a thick tree. You, Jimin, and Tae followed and you had to contain a moan as you suddenly felt the soothing heat of a fire.

“This is us,” Jin said with a gesture to the small area illuminated by the flames.

The fire snapped and crackled as Jin crouched down and poked the embers with a stick, and through the flames you could see the silhouettes of two people against the base of a tree. A bloody and bruised Hobi had his back to the tree trunk with his legs stretched out in front of him. In one hand, he absentmindedly twirled a small blade in his fingers while his other hand rested on the torso of the male curled up on his thighs. Yoongi was facing away from you but you guessed the magic user was deep asleep from the slow rise and fall of his shoulder.

At your arrival, Hobi’s eyes lifted from where they had been looking down at the other male and his face lit up. A dimpled smile appeared and he cheerfully waved with his blade.

His body isn’t shiny like it usually is. You noted with a tilt of your head as you and the boys staggered around the fire.

As you moved closer and squinted through the flickering light you realized it was because most of the sheathes strapped across his body were empty. You also saw there was a large gash in his armor at his side and while the area was stained red, the skin itself was unmarred. The sight made you recall Jin’s words of how Hobi had almost died and the thought made you frown.

The male must have misunderstood your expression through because he looked down at Yoongi then back up apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t get up for a hug.”

“You’ll owe me one later, hyung!” Tae warned with a grin as he ungracefully sat down.

Meanwhile, you raised your hands. “No, no don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Hobi’s light brown eyes softened. “You too, little scorja. You too.” The Saeni then transferred his gaze to the apricot head beside you. “You did good Chim. I’m proud of you.”

The kiela’s spy proceeded to shut his eyes and angle his head back to rest it against the tree trunk. He resumed flipping his blade and his thumb began to gently move up and down Yoongi’s abdomen. You didn’t miss the gesture but all you did was send the two Saeni an earnest smile.

Shuffling closer to the fire’s warmth, you then plopped down to the earth with a tight wince. Your feet cried with relief and the feeling of utter fatigue settled over your body. You tiredly began massaging your spasming leg muscles as Jimin awkwardly made his way to the ground beside you. After glancing at your best friend and releasing a drawn-out exhale, you realized you didn’t know what to do now. Your mind had been on high alert for so long it was like it couldn’t not be wary of every miniscule sight and sound. You just couldn’t let yourself fully relax. The battle was over, you knew that… but you were still scared a sudden attack would erupt out of the vast darkness of the forest.

Am I-are we really safe? You squeezed your thighs.

In the end, you just sat there and stared at the luminous embers of the fire as they ate away at the wood. Your eyes bore into the mesmerizing red-orange glow until your eyes stung and watered. Then, a sniffling sound moved your attention to your best friend and you saw him harshly wiping at his cheek with his palms.

Blinking quickly to counter the dry, stinging pain in your eyes, you quietly asked if he was crying.

“Oh, it’s, uh, ‘cuz of the smoke.” The apricot head let out an exaggerated cough and waved his hand in front of his face.

You lightly bumped his shoulder with yours. “It’s okay, you know. To cry.”

“…I know.”

After a couple of minutes, Jimin lowered his hands and placed them on the ground behind him. Wordlessly, he caught your gaze then nodded at his legs. You pursed your lips, subtly shook your head, and adjusted your body so your forearm could rest against your knee. Jimin merely shrugged at your choice and was about to change positions when Tae made a whining noise, drowsily crawled over, and subsequently trapped the half-Saeni’s legs underneath his silver-grey head. The corner of your mouth went up as you watched Jimin squint down at the male for a few moments before letting out a stuffy snort and beginning to pat Tae’s head.

“Hey…” Hobi lightly said and you turned your head toward the spy to see his brow was furrowed. “Where’s Mingi?”

Body stiffening, you braced yourself to answer the painful question yet again but Jin gently called Hobi’s name from across the fire then sadly shook his head.

Hobi’s light brown eyes widened and he halted his movements with the knife. “Oh.”

The male sharply cursed in a whisper as you somberly looked back into the burning embers.

“Uh, Chim,” Jin hurriedly spoke up, “tell us how you closed the rift.”

Pulling your legs up toward your chest, you rested your forehead against your knees. Everyone had begun sharing their experiences from the hellish day one by one. It wasn’t pleasant hearing about what they had each gone through, and it only got worse when Jungkook was brought up. A shudder ran through your body as you remembered listening to Jin describe how he and Joon had ran into an injured and panicking Jungkook on the field. The eldest Saeni in the kiela had said he’d never seen the youngest so distraught and out of it before.

You breathed out through your nose and shut your eyes. You sometimes wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t left your position on the cliff to search for Jimin. Would Jungkook have come out of the battle unscathed? Would your best friend have been able to defeat Amarok and close the rift? Would Mingi still be alive?

You lightly banged your head on your knee twice then the vivid memory continued playing.

A branch collapsed in the fire, sending a handful of sparks into the air, as Hobi depicted the matchup between him and Yoongi versus a draikensu magic user.

“We went up against the one with purple magic,” the male shifted uncomfortably before resuming his gentle caresses on top of Yoongi’s mint-blue head.

Oh, that one. You remembered the magic user who had seemed to stare directly at you while you were on the cliff.

Hobi’s jaw clenched in the firelight as he described her magic, and you were stunned by how wicked her abilities sounded. You had reasoned she was strong from what you had seen on the cliff, but it was insane hearing how Hobi and Yoongi had struggled against her. Your brows even lifted in surprise when Hobi detailed how he had gone to deliver the final blow but was instead struck by the draikensu’s magic. A grimace appeared on the male’s face and his hand went to his side like he could feel a ghost of the pain he’d endured.

“I remember looking at hyung for a split second before I colla-”

“Fucking Exia, I thought that meeting would never fucking end.”

Immediately, all your heads swiveled over to the new yet familiar voice, and you saw Joon frozen-mid step. The leader of the kiela was staring at you, Jimin, and Tae, and he slowly brought his hand up to cover his open mouth.

“You’re okay… you’re actually oka-wait…” His yellow eyes flitted around the fire. “Where’s-”

“Medical area but he’s going to be alright,” Jin interrupted the leader with an easy smile.

At the news, Joon trailed his gaze over the group and blinked as if he was in a daze. “We all… made it?”

“Not everyone,” Tae whispered so faintly it could barely be heard over the crackling flames.

Joon’s yellow eyes narrowed then went big in realization.

You hugged yourself more securely for a minute, seeking brief comfort for the ache in your chest. Any relief you found would be temporary, though. You knew this and accepted it. There was nothing you could do to stop the memory of hazel eyes from weighing heavily on your heart, so you just let the emotions course through you.

When the dull pain finally faded, you lifted your head from your knees and opened your eyes. The morning sun was beginning to peek through the thin branches of the window and illuminate the bedroom. The pale light reminded you of Joon’s bright eyes.

You listened as the leader of the kiela explained how the surviving draikensu had been detained and were being closely watched at a separate camp nearby. They would be interviewed over the upcoming days then the king would decide what would be done with them. Originally, you would have hoped for them all to burn in hell, but the situation turned out to be more complicated than that. While some draikensu still believed in Uzjuk’s mission of chaos and death even after the god’s disappearance, there seemed to be others who had been acting against their will. Those draikensu had unknowingly fallen under Uzjuk’s influence and had become mere puppets for the god to use as he pleased.

You had no idea how the king would come to a decision for such a fucked-up situation, but you were just glad you didn’t have to worry about such things.

Cheers to not being politically important. You mentally raised an imaginary shot glass and saluted yourself.

“I also received a message from King Bang.” Joon momentarily rubbed his forehead and sighed before continuing. “He sent an order for our kiela to return to the palace.”

Jin blew out an annoyed raspberry and poked at the fire with his stick again. “Well, we can all head out in a few days once Kook is up and moving again.”

“We were told to return without delay except for Yoongi hyung who will stay to help the wounded.” The yellow-eyed Saeni lifted his tired gaze to watch the smoke whirl around in the air. “Jungkook will have to stay as well since he physically cannot go at the moment.”

You scoffed, but in the next second your jaw dropped in surprise when none of the Saeni let out similar reactions. Not even Jimin said anything against it. Your best friend just opened his mouth, hesitated, then finally conceded by hanging his head.

“You’re kidding, right?” You asked in disbelief which caused Joon to wear an apologetic expression, and you let out a cynical laugh in response. “Sweet Neptune, they can wait a few days… we just fought, for fuck’s sake!”

And Jungkook is here… I don’t want to leave him.

Hobi sleepily flipped his blade in the air then caught it. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that little scorja.”

“The king calls, you go,” Tae mumbled but his tone revealed that he obviously didn’t like the idea very much.

“Well, he’s not my damn king.”

You crossed your arms defiantly, but a small movement made you glance to the side and you saw your best friend’s shoulders weakly shaking with quiet laughter.

“How did I know you would say something like that?” he whispered to himself.

You glared at the half-Saeni before huffing and tilting your head toward the unconscious magic user on Hobi’s lap. “I can just stay here with Yoongi.”

“Ah.” Joon awkwardly coughed. “The king requested your presence as well.”

‘Requested’ my ass. You rolled your eyes while stretching out your legs and arms. More like demanded my presence for just one damn meeting.

“Stupid,” you mumbled before letting your body relax and flopping back down onto the bed.

That one, singular meeting had been exhausting. You had to explain what you’d seen, heard, and done down to the smallest detail. You were asked to repeat yourself numerous times and describe scenes you didn’t wish to recall. Then, you had to answer question after question, mostly about Amarok, Uzjuk, and the rift. It seemed like the process went on for hours. Once you’d expelled everything in your brain, you had been dismissed and were no longer “requested” to attend any meetings. The boys weren’t as lucky, though. They were being called into meetings every day since returning to the palace, which quite honestly sucked. For both them and you. You’d grown so used to being surrounded by the kiela night and day, and it was fairly jarring to suddenly be alone. It felt wrong not having them around. Simply put, you didn’t like it. On Earth, you might’ve delt with this by hunkering down on the couch and binge-watching Netflix to fill the hole, but that wasn’t exactly an option in this world. The lack of internet meant all you could do was just keep yourself as busy as possible.

The first thing you did was take up practicing with the BTS trainees every morning. Training was familiar. It was routine. Over the past couple of months, your days always began with training and you didn’t want to change that. It was also nice to see Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Heuning Kai again. They had all grown taller and stronger since you last saw them… but you managed to kick each of their asses every time you sparred. They never complained or sulked at the result, they were just eager and excited to train with “the disciple of the Jeon Jungkook.” The name made you snort but spending your mornings with the younger boys helped ease the loneliness you were feeling.

After exerting yourself at training, you would usually have lunch with Jiae if she was free. When she had nothing scheduled, she would wait at the edge of the training grounds with Chungha silently watching over her. Once you were finished, the lilac-haired Saeni would march over, hook her arm through yours despite your sweaty body, and drag you to the kitchen regardless of your desire to shower before eating. After arriving at the kitchen, one of the palace chefs would kindly instruct you both to sit down then inspect your appearances for a moment before grunting and starting to cook. A short wait later, edible heaven would be placed before you on a plate. Yours would always have more carbohydrates and protein than the princess’, and your sore, tired body would eagerly welcome it. As you and Jiae ate, you would talk about the boys and how annoying it was to not see them much. You also spoke of the differences between your worlds, and what you and Jimin were doing before coming to Illain. There was another topic you had been wanting to bring up. Something you wanted to apologize for. But every time you went to finally say it, you would hesitate, glance at Chungha sitting to the side, and snap your mouth closed. The guard hadn’t changed the way she interacted with you, but… how could you bring up Mingi in front of her?

You couldn’t find the courage to breach that topic just yet.

You’d also started to explore the palace grounds by yourself. There was so much you had missed out on when you first came to the palace, and you figured now was the best time to see it all. Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed to venture into the nearby village or its market due to “security reasons,” but there was still a lot within the expansive palace grounds to discover. You would blindly walk down the countless paths, hoping one of them would lead you to something captivating. So far, you’d found several courtyards with glittering streams and tiny waterfalls weaving through them, as well as a few gardens with flowers bursting with fragrance and excited little bugs buzzing around in the air. On the third day, deep in the trees, you found a collection of stalls holding some sort of unknown creature. You had been and still were curious as to what was kept inside, but the shrill hissing and reverberating growling coming from within the stalls ultimately made you keep your distance. It sounded like something that shouldn’t be fucked with, meaning you weren’t about to go poking your head in like some ditsy horror movie character. As you had warily backed away from the stalls, you saw devices similar to saddles on the walls, so you thought they might be some sort of overly aggressive horse. Whether they were only horses or not, you weren’t about to find out yourself and you reasoned you could just ask one of the kiela members if your curiosity continued.

Your favorite discovery, though, was a tiny clearing you stumbled upon while walking off the main path earlier in the week. You had been following a bubbling stream through the forest and found it ran into a small, secluded pond before spilling over in a narrow cascade and disappearing into the trees. There was a single weeping willow tree at the edge of the clear pool of water and coiled around its trunk was a vine covered in vibrant orange flowers. The area was peaceful and quiet and made you feel at ease. Somehow, you didn’t really mind being alone while you were there. It was a comfortable solitude, and you often napped curled up beneath the thin swaying branches of the weeping willow.

That was how you had been spending your days: training, eating, exploring, and relaxing. Whenever one of the boys was free from the meetings, they would join you while they could. Hobi was getting leaf messages from Yoongi about every other day, and they would usually include a small update on Jungkook’s condition. The kiela’s spy was always sure to stop by and share the news with you when he had time to spare. The two of you would talk for a while about the absent Saeni, and it commonly ended with either one or both of you showing burning cheeks and embarrassed smiles. In the mornings, Jin and Tae would sometimes join you for training. At first, it had only been your dear blue-eyed friend, but once word came that the head instructor did not survive Draikiltho, Jin began showing up too. The eldest kiela member turned out to be a great mentor, and you wondered why he never helped train you. It would’ve been a nice change of pace to be smacked with a joke rather than a glare in the wee hours of the morning on some days. With Joon, you would have pleasant conversations about what things you found around the palace grounds and he would give you suggestions of places to check out. He even promised to take you to his favorite vendor and weapon seller in the market when clearance to leave the grounds was finally given. You barely saw Jimin, but the brief moments you spent with him were remarkably normal. You would have your passionate rants about some random topic and your best friend would listen and chuckle before saying something to get you worked up even more.

The one thing you hadn’t done was tell anyone about the place you’d found with the pond and willow tree. Not even Jimin or Tae knew about it. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you kind of wanted to keep that small, calming place to yourself.

Maybe I’ll go there again today. I just have training and-SHIT! Your eyes bugged out when you noticed how much sunlight was now peeking in through the branches and you threw the covers off your body. I’m gonna be late!

An amused grin broke out on your face as you chewed on an apple slice and watched Jiae mist an orange peel in your best friend’s face. Jimin reeled back, sputtering in surprise, before trying to grab the princess. Jiae nimbly danced away from Jimin’s hands while giggling, making the half-Saeni playfully narrow his eyes.

The lilac-haired Saeni just waggled her fingers, causing Jimin to turn back to you with a sigh of defeat. “Anyways, as I was saying before I was attacked, we decided to wait until after the ceremony to make sure things are settled down.”

“It’s so weird that she’s just chilling in your head,” you quipped and went to cut off another slice from the fruit in your hand but the knife froze as you realized you had yet to greet the goddess. “Shit, um, good morning Illai!”

Jimin rubbed his temples as he listened to the voice nobody else could hear then swept his hand through his hair and grumbled out, “She says good morning to you too and she hopes you trained well today.”

“Geez, it’s even weirder that she’s watching us like a damn movie,” you whispered to yourself before flashing a quick thumbs up. “Thank you Illai, hope you have a swell day doing whatever it is you’re doing!”

Well, watching whatever it is Slim Jim is doing.

Then a thought dawned on you and your eyes flashed mischievously while you leaned closer to Jimin. “Wait, so does she watch when you and Jiae are fuc-”

“Y/NNN!” Jimin lunged forward and covered your mouth before mumbling, “It’s already uncomfortable, please don’t make it worse. And Illai please stop talking.”

You snickered and looked to the side to meet Jiae’s gaze out of curiosity, but the lilac-haired princess just shrugged.

Okay, damn girl. Maybe she’s into voyeurism.

Raising your apple and knife into the air in surrender, you waited for Jimin to move his hand, but he just blatantly ignored you while exclaiming that the atmosphere had suddenly become so quiet and peaceful. After pursing your lips for a moment, you licked the boy’s palm which caused him to pull away with a disgusted gasp. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you then asked when said ceremony would be.

Two nights ago, you’d spoken to Joon for a bit and he mentioned the king was planning a ceremony to honor those who’d fought and lost their lives at Draikiltho. At the time, there was no set date for the event, but you figured that must have changed.

Jimin didn’t respond to your question right away. Instead, he shared a knowing look with Jiae before beginning to smirk at you. One of your brows lifted as you scrutinized the suspicious action.

“It’ll be in a week… the same day the med facility from the field will arrive at the palace.”

Excitement pulsed through your veins and your heart pounded in anticipation as you made your way through the palace hallways with light steps and fidgeting fingers. It was quite early in the morning, but there was an unusual amount of Saeni bustling about.

You skirted to the side to avoid being run over by a very stressed-looking male and breathily laughed to yourself. It may be a magical world, but I guess they can’t escape hectic last-minute preparations either.

After a week that had lagged on and on, it was finally the day you’d been eagerly waiting for. The day you and the boys would be reunited with Jungkook and Yoongi. Although you had no clue as to when they would be arriving, a frenzy of emotions had relentlessly crashed over you throughout the entire night. The result was a fitful night’s sleep full of tossing and turning, but you somehow didn’t feel tired. Whatever weariness you would normally feel from little to no sleep was overwhelmed by the intensity of your excitation. It even made you to ignore the rare opportunity you had to sleep in since training was cancelled for the ceremony. You simply had too many thoughts to lay still in bed, and too many feelings to sit around and do nothing. So, when your internal clock had alerted you it was the usual time to get up for training, you had swiftly flipped the covers off your body to allow a surge of cool air to sharpen your senses. Your mind was wired, body itching to do something, and you had hastily racked your brain for what that something would be. Ultimately, since the training grounds were closed, you had decided eating a big breakfast was the best option.

Continuing your journey to the kitchen, you tapped your fingertips against the ruby hilt of the dagger strapped to your side.

He’s coming back today. You looked down at the blade and changed your tapping to more of a gentle pat. You only need to put up with me for a little longer.

“Little scorja!” A distant, muffled voice gasped out.

Your head lifted, and you saw Tae walking toward you while smiling around a pastry that was shoved against his lips.

“TaeTae!” You exclaimed brightly as he crammed the rest of the pastry in his mouth and skipped over.

The blue-eyed male slid to a stop beside you and gave you a light nudge accompanied by a wink. “Well, someone’s looking quite happy this morning.”

“I’m about to eat, you know how that gets me going.” You affectionately knocked your shoulder into his while reaching down to hold his hand.

He giggled and sent a sly smile your way. “I’m sure you’re just famished after last night if those red and puffy eyes are anything to go by.”

“Ah yes,” you replied dreamily while rolling your red and puffy eyes, “that’s just what every girl wants to hear in the morning.”

You weren’t entirely sure what being famished had to do with sleep deprivation but you decided it wasn’t important enough to wallow on, so you switched topics by asking what time he thought they would be arriving.

“Who?”

You gently flicked the male’s chest while rolling your eyes. “Uh, who else? Kook and Mr. Sparkle Hands.”

Slowly, Tae’s boxy grin vanished and was replaced with a look of confusion while he cocked his head to the side. “Wait, you have you not seen him?”

“Who?” You echoed the male with furrowed brows.

The Saeni nervously cleared his throat, the playfulness in his eyes evaporating into unease. “They arrived a few hours ago… Kook hasn’t gone to see you?”

You stilled, quietly absorbing the news, before withdrawing your hand from Tae’s so you could grab onto your own arm. “Oh… um, no. He hasn’t.”

The male frowned but was fast to shake his head and give you a reassuring grin. “Maybe he fell asleep! He did seem really tired at the meeting earlier.”

“Yeah… maybe.” You pressed your lips together and looked at the floor.

The bright, elated feeling in your chest began to wilt into something heavy and stinging, but before it could completely wither away, you made your brain call a timeout. Okay. Okay. Okay. He’s here… he’s been here for a few hours. And he hasn’t come to see me, but let’s not think too much into it. Tae’s right. He could be tired, still recovering, wanting to get his energy back up… Though it’s not like it takes much to do a quick check-in. Wait. He probably doesn’t even know what room I’m in… but he could’ve just asked one of the bo-

“Want me to take you to his room?” Tae’s soft voice interrupted your rambling, conflicted thoughts.

You lifted your head at the idea and parted your lips, a “yes” dancing on the edge of your tongue. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You couldn’t remove the splinter of disappointment that was now lodged in your chest. Jungkook didn’t want to see you right now. If he did, he would have found you. The thought pushed the splinter deeper into your heart and you winced. Shaking your head at both the tiny, piercing pain and your friend, you told Tae that he was probably right and that you wouldn’t want to disturb Jungkook if he was resting.

“I… Are you sure?” The blue-eyed male tugged on his feather earring as his brows drew close together, but you didn’t say anything else. “Want to spar for a bit then? I know the training grounds are closed today, but we’re used to doing it in the forest anyway, right? Or! Or I can walk you to the garden where Yoongi hyung and Hobi hyung are!”

Sliding your hand down your arm to hold your wrist, you kept yourself from reaching for the glinting blade at your side. “Thanks TaeTae, but I’m sure Yoongi and Hobi want some alone time… and I’m actually pretty sore from training yesterday, so…” You were lying and you knew that he knew it. You could visibly see the worry plastered on the Saeni’s face, but you forced a tight smile and told him you were going to head back to your room to lay down. “It’s going to be crazy later, so I think I’m just gonna relax before getting ready for the ceremony.”

Tae’s eyes scanned your face, uncertainty consuming his features, until he gently exhaled and said he would walk you to your room.

You could easily tell Tae wanted to say something else, but he surprisingly held himself back and kept quiet. When you made it to your door, the Saeni pulled you into a hug to squish you close for several seconds. He left a light kiss to your cheek then stepped away. With a pointed look that silently told you to get him if you needed anything, the male swiveled around and strode away. You watched his receding figure until he disappeared around the corner then blew out a long puff of air and went inside your room. After the door weaved itself back together behind you, you squeezed your eyes shut and leaned against the branches. You felt somewhat empty, the hurricane of excitement from earlier now dull and washed out. A knot was also gradually forming in your stomach, the unpleasant and tight feeling reminding you that you never did make it to the kitchen and likely wouldn’t for the rest of the day. Not that you thought it would matter much. You’d lost your appetite anyway.

Pulling the fabric behind your back, you blindly formed a bow over your spine. You secured the knot while internally praying the result wasn’t too lopsided. You were never particularly good at making bows look nice and pretty. It was usually Jimin’s job to laugh at your poor attempts until he took pity and provided help. Unfortunately, the apricot head was nowhere in sight.

No Slim Jim… and no coconut-headed asshat either. You sighed and smoothed your hand over the light, gossamer-like fabric draped on your body.

The dress was long, loosely falling to your ankles, with asymmetrical bell sleeves that stopped just below your elbows. The garment was courtesy of Jiae, who had it delivered a couple days ago alongside a note specifying she had had it made for you since you didn’t have any of Illain’s custom mourning clothing. Of course, your human ass had seen “mourning” and expected black or some other dark color, but it turned out to be quite the opposite. The fabric was a pale yellow and green that was so light and soft it was reminiscent of morning sunlight peeking through tree leaves. The material was sheer but not entirely see-through, giving the dress an almost milky translucence. The neckline stopped at your collarbones, allowing your silver necklace to be displayed. You would have been feeling graceful if not for the worn boots that were laced over your feet. They roughed up the entire look, but you merely shrugged before tugging them on. They were the only footwear you had since you didn’t know what had happened to your sneakers after you’d switched shoes during your first visit to the palace.

At least they’re comfy and won’t make me suffer. You gently knocked one boot against the other.

“Unlike some people,” you mumbled as you plopped down on your bed.

You still hadn’t seen Jungkook, or rather, Jungkook still hadn’t come to see you. You had been holed up in your room since the morning, not wanting to leave in case he showed up but… he never did.

Blowing out a raspberry, you hung your head and allowed yourself exactly ten seconds of moping before slapping your hands against your thighs and standing back up. Stepping over to the table in the corner, you picked up Jungkook’s dagger and its sheath.

Thankfully the brown leather will match the boots. You slipped the belt around your waist just below the bow at your back.

Just as you were threading the strap through the buckle, a short rap came from your door. Your fingers froze while your head darted up and your breath got caught in your throat. Hastily crossing the room, you tightly gripped the leather in your hands as your heart swelled with hope. But as the door’s branches untwisted, you came face to face with a lilac-haired princess instead of your boyfriend. Your chest twinged but you swallowed down the disappointment to smile at the female.

“Hey Jiae-whoa.” You openly gawked at her dress because it was seriously fancy.

Like yours, it was a pale yellow and green, but it was more elaborate and detailed with embellishments, sparkling jewels, and an airy cape that covered her otherwise bare shoulders.

“Ah… yeah…” She followed your gaze to her dress and pulled at the fabric of her cape with a tiny roll of her eyes. “It’s excessive, I know, but it’s what comes with being a princess.”

“Sure, it’s excessive, but you look good as hell.” You nodded approvingly as you moved to finish buckling the dagger to your body. “Slim Jim’s nose is gonna bleed… if it hasn’t already, that is.”

The female’s nose scrunched. “His nose… is going to… bleed?”

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” You smirked then casually leaned against the doorframe and crossed your ankles. “So, what brings you here? I would’ve thought you’d already be in the ceremony room.”

“I’m about to head there, but I wanted to see if you would like to walk down together?” Jiae asked with kind eyes and a hopeful smile.

You blinked in surprise. “You’re actually asking and not just dragging me there?”

“Hey! Don’t make it sounds like I kidnap you for our lunch dates!”

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” You laughed, pushed off the frame, and took a step forward so your door would weave itself back together. “Let’s go then.”

You forced yourself to not look down at the ruby gemstone on the dagger as you shoved your desire to have Jungkook be the one to pick you up and take you to the ceremony to the far recesses of your mind. You had been wishing for Jungkook to show up all day. You had been waiting for him. But no more. You still desperately wanted to see him, hold him, kiss him… but you refused to sit around and twiddle your thumbs for another minute.

The princess beamed at you then hooked her arm through yours to begin leading you down the hallway. A few doors down, Chungha was watching you both approach with her usual serious expression. She was also wearing pale yellow and green, but in contrast to you and Jiae’s delicate and nearly sheer fabric, her outfit was thick and armored. As she started to walk beside Jiae, you pressed your lips together and gave the female guard a polite nod which she returned. Meeting Chungha’s eyes made your guilt flare up again, though, so you quickly averted your gaze and swallowed hard. Taking a shaky, deep breath, you rolled your shoulders to try to rid yourself of the tension while the three of you strolled toward the ceremony room. Minutes and corridors passed by, but none of you spoke. The event you were going to wasn’t exactly something to giggle excitedly about. Instead, the only sounds came from you and Chungha’s boots thumping against the wooden floor and Jiae’s low humming. Eventually, you found yourself in the midst of other Saeni also heading to the ceremony, and you merged into their yellow and green stream that was filled with hushed murmurs.

A short while later, you were finally entering the room hosting the ceremony. The space was like the throne room you had seen the first time you entered the palace, with spaced out trees serving as the walls and swaying leaves creating an open-air roof. The difference was this room was bigger and more spacious. Plus, there was a huge, blazing fire in the middle of the room that was sending swirling tufts of white smoke through the leaves. All around you, there was an abundance of light. Not only was the fire burning brightly, but the sun shone through the gaps between the tree trunks and full leaves, and there were also multitudes of lanterns hanging from the branches that casted a soft glow throughout the room. Altogether, it created a stunning blend of shifting lights and shadows. The room was crowded too. So many Saeni, all wearing pale yellow and green, were already packed into the space and were milling about.

A small tug on your arm made your feet come to a stop, and then Jiae was speaking into your ear about how she needed to go find her father. Before moving away, she also said she believed the boys should be toward the far side of the room if you wanted to look for them. You half-smiled in understanding and she tenderly touched your shoulder before pulling away and following Chungha into the sea of Saeni.

You stood still for a minute, just taking in the atmosphere surrounding you. Breathing deeply, you tilted your head back and stared at the treetops gently moving back and forth.

Alright. You blew out a long exhale and releveled your gaze. Let’s go find the boys.

Suddenly, your palms grew sweaty at the prospect of seeing Jungkook. You were nervous, antsy, and worried about how you would interact. Would things be normal? Would they be different? Were you completely overthinking it all? A small part of you was even tempted to hide and avoid the encounter. But you also wanted to see Yoongi. And you really did want to see Jungkook, you were just a little jittery. Chastising yourself, you told your brain to pull up its big girl panties and get itself together.

The other side of the room. You recalled Jiae’s words and went on your tippy toes to try to see over the crowed for any glimpse of the kiela, but you couldn’t make out much. It was like being at the very back of the pit during a concert and having several people shift into your line of sight. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really, but it still made you want to grit your teeth in frustration. With a huff, you brought your heels back to the floor and plunged into the throng of Saeni. Blindly, you began to work your way towards the opposite end of the very large room. While shouldering your way through the crowd as politely as you could, you kept trying to get a peek of the kiela members, but you weren’t having any luck.

You were craning your neck and standing on your toes for yet another mostly obscured scan of the room when someone bumped into your side. It wasn’t a hard hit by any means, but the angle of the contact made you stumble. You internally sighed, knowing you were either about to fall on your ass or into an unsuspecting Saeni, when hands miraculously grasped your shoulders and kept you upright. Steadying your feet and letting out a relieved breath, you looked over to thank your savior, but the words got stuck when you recognized the Saeni. You’d interacted with him only once before, and you didn’t know if you could really count exchanging punches and kicks as an interaction, but you still remembered the male’s face and how his originally shy smile had turned serious.

Narrowing your gaze at the Saeni, you cleared your throat and lifted your chin. “You.”

The male, whose name was Yoo Yong-something, stared at you then flashed you that damn shy smile. “Um, do I know you?”

“You kicked my ass at the sparring matches. The ones with Jeon Jungkook officiating. I’d like a rematch.”

Recognition finally flickered in the male’s eyes and he let go of your shoulders. “Ah! That’s why you look familiar. Sorry I didn’t remember you at first, my mind was kind of overwhelmed with the Jeon Jungkook being there that day. He’s a freaking legend.”

Yeah, a legendary pain in the ass. You rolled your eyes at the return of the asshat’s ridiculous fanclub as Saeni continued to shift and move all around you.

“But sure, we can have a rematch if you want.” The male crossed his arms over his chest and studied you briefly. “Though the outcome will be the same as last time.”

You only hummed thoughtfully and gave him a once-over in response, but the sound contained such a sharp edge that the male blinked in surprise. You smirked at his reaction then morphed your lips into a genuine grin. “Thanks for catching me by the way.”

Before he could say anything else, you pivoted on your heel and began to move away while calling over your shoulder, “Well, I’ll see you around soon then. I’m looking forward to our rematch!”

You dove back into the crowd and continued your search for the “legend” and the other boys. To your right, the fire was snapping loudly. Above you, the lanterns swayed, and the leaves rustled soothingly. All around you, conversations at respectful volumes floated into the air. And up ahead, after somehow breaking into a less populated area of the room, was what appeared to be a refreshment table. It was lined with small snacks on tiered plates and tall silver pitchers were next to stemmed glasses. The sight of food made your stomach grumble, and you were reminded that you hadn’t eaten anything all day. After a moment of contemplation, you decided it was worthwhile to give the spread a quick inspection. You approached the table and scanned its contents but unfortunately none of the dainty finger foods or fancily decorated desserts called out “Eat me! Eat me!”

Dammit. Is a singular mini corn dog too much to ask for?

While you pouted and wished for some simple fried comfort food, a Saeni passed you to snatch up one of the silver pitchers at the end of the table. You watched, mouth suddenly going dry, as they poured a clear liquid into a glass, downed the drink in three big gulps and a hiccup, then poured another glassful before shuffling away.

Water is better than nothing, I guess. Smacking your lips together, you moved down the table, selected a glass, then picked up a pitcher.

“I wouldn’t recommend the viitulx unless you want to numb yourself to reality.” A voice filled with warning came from across the table.

Your actions halted and you lifted your head to see a merlot-haired Saeni regarding you with soft eyes.

“Yugyeom!”

“Hi there, Y/N.” The male’s lips twitched at the corners before he put his hand over yours to gently guide the pitcher back to the table. “It’s one of the strongest alcohols in Illain. Believe me when I say it will put you on your ass.”

You frowned at the pitcher and its clear contents. “I thought it was water.”

Yugyeom withdrew his hand and said you wouldn’t be finding any water at the ceremony. Tilting your head, you tried to piece together why there wouldn’t be any water, but he didn’t elaborate so you ultimately just accepted the information. As you pushed the pitcher back to where you’d found it, Yugyeom trekked around the table to your side and held his arm out toward you. You blankly stared at his arm for several seconds until he thrust it toward you a little more. Finally, you got that he was wanting to do that forearm grasp greeting thing you’d seen the boys do before. Making a noise of realization, you belatedly slapped your hand against the male’s forearm while he suppressed an amused chuckle and told you how nice it was to see you again.

“You, too. I’m really glad you’re okay Yugyeom.” You looked at him sincerely and noticed the violet in his hair stood out more vibrantly against the color of the mourning clothes.

“I heard that Kook was injured…” The easy-going expression on the male’s face faltered for a moment before he let out a soft laugh. “But I’m sure he healed up fast, right? Nothing can keep that bastard down for long.”

All you did was slowly move your head in agreement, feeling somewhat awkward since you actually didn’t know how Jungkook had healed besides what Yoongi had written in his messages.

“You know, I’m actually surprised he isn’t with you.” The Saeni stepped back and his eyes dropped to your waist. “Especially since you have that damn dagger of his strapped to your side.”

Resisting the urge to tap the handle of the weapon, you instead toyed with the frabric of your dress. “I, ah, just haven’t had the chance to return it to him yet.”

I mean, that is the truth.

“Heh, have you two been that busy?” Yugyeom chortled to himself then looked at you curiously. “Tell me, did he finally choke you properly?”

Now that made you choke on your own spit, which in turn made you cough and gasp for air. “You-You think I haven’t given him back his dagger ‘cuz we’ve been too busy canoodling!?”

“Well, I’m not wrong, am I?”

“As a matter of fact, you are. I, um…” Your voice trailed off and you gripped at the fabric under your hands. “I actually haven’t seen him since that day. Since Draikiltho.”

“Didn’t he arrive at the palace this morning?”

You flashed him your best finger gun alongside a self-deprecating laugh. “That’s a bingo.”

As Yugyeom’s brows knit together, a Saeni with swollen eyes quietly excused himself past you to reach for the viitulx. You slid out of the Saeni’s way and turned back to Yugyeom, who was studying you. The male silently looked at you for a couple heartbeats, sort of making you feel fidgety, before randomly saying there were some people he wanted to introduce you to.

“We can ask if they’ve seen Kook or the other members of your kiela too.”

A warmth rapidly spread across your chest. Your kiela. The thought had the corners of your lips turning up, and Yugyeom must have seen it since his own eyes softened.

“Okay then.” You motioned for him to move while trying to calm your happy heart. “Lead the way.”

He took your wrist in his hand and pulled you back into the dense crowd. A couple minutes later, you were standing beside Yugyeom with a group of six males before you.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Y/N,” Yugyeom called out to the males to get their attention then gestured toward them as he spoke to you. “Y/N, this my kiela.”

Surprised, you jostled him with your arm. “Hey, I didn’t know you had a kiela.”

“Who you got there Yugyeom?” A male with long, icy blue hair asked with narrowed eyes but an intrigued tone.

Another Saeni with olive-colored orbs that were glinting teasingly slug his arm over the blue-haired male’s shoulders. “Wow, is it finally the day he has us meet a girlfriend? I’m not going to lie, though, it’s kind of a bad event to do it at.”

“Shit, do we need to act over-protective?” A bleach-blonde head started to panic but then he caught sight of your face and looked at you funnily.

“No way.” The male with short pink hair denied as his gaze stopped on the dagger at your side. “She seems too badass to be with him.”

The last two males didn’t say anything, just trailed both their deep red eyes over you in a way that made you feel like you were being thoroughly inspected.

“Um, hi? I’m Y/N, nice to meet you all.” You habitually raised your hand to wave but cursed and hastily placed your thumb over your chest and drew it down.

“Well, that was weird,” the pink-haired one muttered with an openly judgmental look.

“The rude one there is BamBam,” Yugyeom informed you, causing BamBam to send you a wink accompanied by a finger salute.

“My name is Mark.” The olive-eyed male used his free arm to perform the greeting gesture.

The rest of the group introduced themselves one by one. Youngjae and Jinyoung were the males with red eyes, and it was Jackson with the bleach-blonde hair. Finally, the icy-haired male stepped forward and dragged his thumb down in his chest and said his name was Jaebeom. Politely smiling, you shifted your gaze over each male while mentally matching them with their names.

Beside you, Yugeyeom cracked his knuckles. “Alright, now that that’s out of the way, have any of you see-”

“Ughhhh, I just can’t believe she doesn’t recognize us!” Jackson suddenly wailed, interrupting the merlot-haired Saeni.

You peered at the now sullen male. “I’m sorry? Am I supposed to…?”

“Yes!”

At a complete loss, you glanced at Yugyeom but he mirrored your look of confusion.

“Jackson, Youngjae, and I have briefly encountered you before,” Jinyoung offered helpfully… but it still didn’t ring any bells.

That must be why the three of them were looking at me oddly.

You squinted at the three males to try to place where you had supposedly met them before, but you kept drawing blanks, so you could only wince apologetically. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I really don’t remember.”

Jackson gasped and looked downright offended while Youngjae sighed and added, “You were with Namjoon’s kiela. We stopped you right outside the palace grounds a few months ago.”

A hazy memory came to mind. A small group of Saeni had indeed stopped you and the boys. One of them had blonde hair and Hobi said something about training with him in the past. You couldn’t remember the faces or names, but if it was a blonde then you figured it must have been Jackson.

Sheepishly, you told them that was all you recalled.

“Aha! You do remember me!”

Jinyoung slapped Jackson on the back. “Congratulations. She remembers your hair.”

“And probably only because you were the one who spoke,” Youngjae quipped dryly.

“Whatever. It counts.”

Their banter made you stifle a laugh. It reminded you of your boys and their crazy antics, yet you didn’t linger on the thought for long, instead refocusing on Yugyeom’s kiela because there was one thing you were wondering about.

“Why weren’t you with Yugyeom at the field?” You asked to none of the males in particular.

BamBam let out an annoyed exhale. “You could say we weren’t invited.”

“Er, sort of,” Jaebeom said shyly before explaining they had been told to stay back to protect the palace and village in case any draikensu showed up. Yugyeom, though, had been ordered to go with the troops because of his speed and endurance.

“Our Yugyeom is perfect for being a messenger boy.” BamBam strolled up to said male and tickled his fingers under Yugyeom’s jaw, making the Saeni squirm away in agitation.

“So, Y/N…” Mark abruptly yet coyly said, making you hum questioningly. “How’d you start dating our sprout?”

You blanched. They actually think we’re dating!?

Luckily, Yugyeom pushed BamBam away and saved you from having to clarify your mutually platonic relationship yourself.

“Oh my goddess, we are not dating! I met her right before Draikiltho, and she’s actually with Jungkook, so please don’t say that again or he will try to kill me.”

Understanding dawned on the males’ faces and some of them even had the audacity to look at you aghast, as if they couldn’t believe it. You just raised a brow, daring them to say something about you or your boyfriend.

Jackson whistled and jerked his chin toward you. “So that’s Jungkook’s dagger then? I knew I had seen it somewhere before.”

“Yeah yeah, it is,” Yugyeom answered for you in a dismissive tone. “Anyway, have any of you seen that bastard? Y/N hasn’t seen him since the field, and I would like to be the one to kickstart their beautiful reunion.”

“You haven’t seen him at all?” Jinyoung asked.

Grimacing, you told the males that Jungkook had been injured at Draikiltho so he hadn’t returned to the palace with you. Then, even though he had finally arrived at the palace this morning, you still hadn’t seen him once.

BamBam suddenly snorted, drawing your attention, and he gazed at you pitifully. “You got deciduoued.”

The other males whipped their heads in BamBam’s direction to send him warning glares. A couple of them even whispered at him to shut up.

Meanwhile, you just blinked at him and cocked your head to the side. “I got Dewey Decimal what now?”

“Deciduoued.” The pink-hiared male ignored his kiela and gave you an incredulous look when you continued to blink at him. “As is deciduous? Like the trees that shed their leaves? How have you never heard of this?” He scoffed at you in astonishment while you frowned at his attitude.

Considering I am from another world and don’t have an extensive list of horticulture terms in my chickpea brain, it’s pretty fucking reasonable I haven’t heard of this.

You were about to tell the male off when the meaning of the word registered and caused you to stiffen.

Shedding leaves? Don’t tell me this is… Saeni slang for ghosting? Is Jungkook… ghosting me?

At the same time you bit your lip at the possibility, Jaebeom strode over and smacked BamBam upside the head while Yugyeom elbowed him in the gut.

BamBam promptly whined and rubbed his side, and Yugyeom turned to you and told you to disregard the male. “He’s just an asshole sometimes.”

You released hollow chuckle and were about to reply that you could deal with BamBam. He wasn’t the only asshole you knew, after all. Yet before you could say so, a loud chime-like sound flooded the the air. You perked up as a hush fell around the room in the chime’s wake. The Saeni started to move, and you could just barely make out them leaving a wide circle open around the fire. Then, little by little, everyone’s attention turned toward the side of the room you had been trying to get to. Following suit, you also looked over. Through the heads and shoulders, you could see King Bang standing on a platform of sorts with Jiae at his side.

The king, outfitted in yellow and green armor, took a step forward. “Three weeks ago, there was a morning that was not kissed by light. Rather, it was a morning tainted by blood and death. Many lives… too many lives… were lost that morning. We are here to honor those lives.

“Tonight, we pray to our mother goddess, Illai, to tenderly watch over the Saeni from that morning. Tonight, we thank Exia for giving those Saeni the courage to fight and the will to protect who and what they love.

“Every Saeni who has met the mother goddess because of Draikiltho will be named. Those that wish to honor them may do so.” The king extended his hand toward the fire roaring in the center of the room before lowering it. “There will also be fires outside if you prefer a more private setting.”

The king then called for one, cohesive prayer to begin the ceremony. While he and Jiae bowed their heads, all the other Saeni shifted to face the fire. Yugyeom gently guided you to do the same with his fingers. You held your breath, waiting for what would come next. The entire room seemed to go stagnant. None of the Saeni moved. The breeze died down, the leaves went motionless, the lanterns stopped swaying. All was still except for the snapping flames licking at the warm air.

Then…

“To our Saeni, who lived and fought bravely and are now resting with the mother goddess!” The king’s voice loudly resonated throughout the space and drove the world back into motion.

The Saeni echoed his words with passionate shouts, many of them even throwing their heads back to scream it into the sky that was visible through the tree branches. Once the remnants of their voices were carried away by the wind, the Saeni lowered their heads and began to murmur under their breath. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you closed your eyes and repeated the king’s words as a whisper while feeling your chest pinch with emotion.

You stayed that way for some time, just emitting as much gratitude as you could, before Jiae’s light voice soothed over the room. “We will begin the individual prayers in a few minutes.”

Slowly, the Saeni lifted their heads and started to move. A large portion of the crowd dispersed, spilling out between the gaps of the tree trunks and toward what you assumed were the fires outside. Craning your neck and shifting your weight from side to side, you once again tried to spot the boys through the crisscrossing bodies.

“Yugyeom?” You heard BamBam approach and you glanced over while trying to keep your footing against all the moving Saeni.

“Yeah?” the merlot-haired Saeni replied with wary eyes and blocked his throat with his hand.

“You said you were looking for Jungkook?”

Yugyeom apprehensively dropped his hand. “Yes…?”

“To the right of the dais by maybe seventeen steps.” With that, BamBam met your gaze, gave you a small nod, and wandered back to his other members.

As the males started razzing him, your head swiveled to the right of where the king and Jiae were still standing and began to search. Filtering through the faces and modge-podge rainbow of hair colors, your eyes carefully scanned the area… and saw a glimpse of apricot-orange next to mint-blue.

In the next second, you could see the entire kiela. None of them were wearing armor and it was almost shocking to see them sans weapons, but it was them without a doubt. A small gasp came from your lips and your heart thudded and skipped when you locked onto Jungkook’s profile. Maybe you were only imagining it, but you could feel your nape tingling and growing warm too. Scouring your eyes over his figure, you exhaled a relieved sigh that he no longer looked hurt. He was back to standing in that infuriatingly cocky yet intimidating way of his. You wished you could see his stupidly cute smile and his bright, glittering eyes, but the angle didn’t allow you to see his face very well. You did, however, that his jaw was clenched in what seemed like a scowl.

I’ve been on the receiving end of his glare enough times to know when he isn’t pleased… but why is he upset?

You watched as his hands formed fists and he walked away from his brothers to disappear into the crowd, making Yoongi throw his hands into the air in frustration. Without thinking, your foot lifted off the floor and your body readied itself to go after Jungkook, but you paused. You didn’t know where he went and had no idea where he was going. Not to mention, the other boys were right there.

Kookie’s made me wait this long to see him, so now he can wait until I’m finished seeing the other boys. You decided somewhat pettily.

“Let me know if you need me to kick his ass later.”

You tore your gaze from the kiela to side-eye Yugyeom skeptically.

“What!?” His jaw dropped in shock as if he’d been betrayed. “I could totally kick his ass!”

“Mhmm. That sparring session I witnessed says otherwise,” you deadpanned.

The Saeni grumbled then dismally told you to get going before the ceremony started back up. After thanking the male for his help, you cracked a smile when he made you promise to organize a hangout between both kielas. Peeking over Yugyeom’s shoulder, you waved to the rest of his kiela and let out a small laugh at how Jackson was shaking his fists at you in encouragement. Then, you turned around, gave the ruby gemstone on Jungkook’s dagger a light tap, and started making your way over to the boys.

You squeezed through Saeni, bumped into a handful more, and tripped over a few stray feet, but you finally found yourself closing in on the kiela. You were weaving between several more Saeni when you saw Tae’s face light up and he began pushing his way through the crowd while lightly calling your name. He moved fast, getting to you in no time to excitedly sweep you into a hug. Rocking you back and forth and not caring if he knocked into other Saeni as he did so, the male gushed about how beautiful you looked. Humming in content, you leaned back and squished his cheeks between your palms. You giggled at his smooshed face as the ends of his grey hair tickled your fingers despite his trademark headband still resting above his forehead. Wordlessly, Tae reached up to grab one of your hands and tugged you through the Saeni to the kiela. When you were a few yards out from his brothers, you pulled yourself from Tae’s grasp and rushed over to Yoongi, who was trying to act nonchalant and like he wasn’t totally watching your approach out of the corner of his eye. Hurrying over and waving at the other boys as they happily greeted you, you threw your arms around Yoongi. The male’s petal pink eyes widened in surprise and he even tried to raise his hands to ward off your sudden attack, but there was no real intent behind the movement as you easily enveloped him.

“I missed you, Mr. Sparkle Hands.”

“Well, I didn’t miss you,” he said grouchily but then wrapped his own arms tightly around you. After a couple seconds of peaceful silence, he whispered in your ear, “You’re going to need to talk to him. He’s being a fucking idiot.”

You sighed into his shoulder, not needing to ask who he was talking about.

“I will later,” you whispered back, “Once the ceremony is over, I’ll find him.”

Yoongi grunted in acknowledgement and rubbed your back twice before separating from you to let Jimin hug you from the side. As the apricot head heavily draped himself over you and dropped one of his arms to poke at your ribs, you breathed out comfortably and surveyed the kiela. It was still jarring not seeing them with their weapons or armor, but they were all here and they were safe. Instead of being prepared to fight and wreck anyone who stood in their way, they were empty-handed and dressed in casual shirts and loose-fitting pants that were tucked into their boots. It was a different but nice change to see.

Blocking Jimin’s next poke without looking, you hooked your elbow around his and grinned at everyone. “The gang’s all here… Mostly.”

“Idiot.” You heard Yoongi mumble while your best friend muttered something about running out of Spongebob references one day.

Simultaneously, Namjoon winced at the reminder of Jungkook’s absence while the other members tried to hide their grimaces. You knew exactly how they felt. It didn’t feel right without the youngest member of the kiela. It made your fingers twitch and your senses more alert. Tempted your eyes to scan your surroundings for enemies. Tricked your mind into thinking it was the night after the battle when you were emotionally and physically drained but so scared and on edge that you couldn’t rest. Fighting back a shiver, you ran your hands down your dress. It was obviously doing no good for you or the boys to dwell on the lack of the asshat’s presence, especially when it was his choice to not be here, so you decided to forcefully change the topic.

You jabbed your elbow into your best friend’s ribs. “So, did your nose bleed when you saw Jiae?”

The half-Saeni wheezed, though you weren’t sure whether it was from your hit or question. Jimin deliberately looked away as you waited for an answer, causing Tae to snicker and his blue eyes to flash naughtily. This made Jimin dart his head toward his brother and subtly shake his head.

The blue-eyed male payed no mind to the plead, instead turning to you cheerfully and declaring, “His nose didn’t bleed but something else sure made its presence known!”

Something else?

…

.. OH.

You gaped at the now blushing apricot head before saying his name in the most “scandalized” tone you could muster. While your willpower barely kept your laughter at bay, the announcement rippled through the kiela with varying degrees of reactions.

“I don’t want any more sprouts!” Jin cried out, earning a few looks from bystanders, and Namjoon simply pinched the bridge of his nose. The eldest of the kiela then pointed at Jimin’s crotch with a fearful expression. “I don’t care that Yoongi makes us that potion, make sure you keep that thing in your pants. Kookie alone is enough to deal with.”

Knees growing weak, you had to smack a hand over your mouth to muffle your cackle while Yoongi looked unimpressed and Hobi just coughed into his fist and casually shifted a couple inches away from the group. A whine rose into the air and Jimin begged for you all to stop with flushed ears. Lucky for him, he was saved from more teasing by the same chime sound from before softly ringing throughout the room, causing you and all the Saeni to quickly quiet down and redirect your attention to the dais.

After a few moments, King Bang’s voice once again took over the room. “Every Saeni who was lost to Draikiltho will be remembered and revered until the day our trees are uprooted from the earth and our sun goes into a permanent slumber… but because of their courage, that day will not arrive in this liftetime! We will cry their names to the setting sun! We will sing of their valor to the treetops! We will make them feel our recognition even as they rest with the mother goddess!”

The king took a moment to calm his voice and you leaned forward on your toes.

“All who were present that day were vital to our prevail over darkness. But there were a select few who’s daring actions and selfless spirits directly influenced our victory and allowed us all to continue feeling the sun’s warmth. Let us honor them first.”

A plume of sparks went up in your peripherals right as King Bang raised his chin.

“Kim ‘Suho’ Junmyeon!”

Your body jerked, muscles involuntarily spasming at the name. You scarcely registered that Jiae was stepping down from the dais and that Chungha was following as the princess strode to the fire. Hardly noticed that the kiela was also moving. Your vision was only filled with the recollection of a twisting blade and eyes becoming dull and glossy.

“Little scorja?”

Blinking, you refocused on the room and saw Namjoon looking back at you, waiting. The rest of the kiela were already heading toward the fire, but the yellow-eyed male stood still and sadly smiled in a way that said he understood and was there with you.

Then he lifted his hand out to you. “It’s okay. Come on.”

Exhaling, you took his hand and Namjoon began to lead you through the crowd. Once you finally broke through the circle of Saeni surrounding the fire, the male let go of your hand as you both joined his brothers in front of the flames. Sweltering heat thrummed out from the burning wood in constant waves, making your skin feel like it would surely be scorched if you went any closer. Peering side to side, you saw Jiae and Chungha standing before the fire as well as several other Saeni you didn’t know. Many of them were in the same guard uniform as Chungha too. Tilting your head, you followed the dense smoke whirling above you and listened to the leaves tremble in the breeze.

“To Suho, who lived and fought bravely and is now resting with the mother goddess!”

Sucking in air through your teeth, you shouted the words back alongside everyone else in your small, separated circle around the fire. Lowering your gaze to the sizzling embers, you rubbed your thumb over the ruby gemstone at your side and remembered the guard.

In a soft voice, you spoke, “I know Namjoon said that sometimes there’s nothing we can do, but I’m still sorry for not being able to save you. Thank you for fighting with us, and I hope you’ve been able to rest peacefully.”

A minute later, the group honoring the guard broke apart and you all returned to the crowd. Despite the warm air flowing through the open walls, you felt a chill go through you as you followed the boys and left the roaring fire behind.

King Bang then called two other names in succession, and while you didn’t recognize them, Jimin went to the fire with guilt and regret in his light brown eyes for each one. You reasoned they must have been Saeni who had escorted him to the rift. Your assumption was proven correct when the next name called included ‘Stem.’

You didn’t hesitate this time. Immediately, you joined Jimin and pushed through the fire with him. Standing beside your best friend, you repeated the commemorating phrase with a yell. The memory of the male’s life bleeding out as a consequence of your fingers made you flinch, but you steadied yourself and told Stem that you finished the favor he had asked of you. You had helped and saved your friend, and you had only been able to do so because of him.

“Thank you for helping me.”

Two more names came after you went back to the kiela, and you watched as Jimin honored them both. Your best friend returned with stiff limbs and languid breaths. You reached for him, ready to offer whatever comfort you could provide…

But then the name came that was like a jagged stake to your heart.

“Song Mingi.”

All your movements froze, the ache you had grown familiar with blooming once more in your chest, before you squeezed your eyes tightly shut and slowly counted to three. Opening your eyes, you then marched toward the fire with the entire kiela on your heels. A glance sideways confirmed Jiae and Chungha were both at the fire again, but you moved your gaze off them quickly. You still couldn’t bear to look at Chungha. Especially not right now. As Tae and Jimin settled on either side of you, you noticed a group of males gathered on the other side of the fire as well. Half of them were blocked from view by the dancing flames, but for some reason, your eyes locked onto those you could see and wouldn’t look away. The males held on to each other, grief overtaking their faces in the glowing, flickering light. Their eyes welling up with tears and lips quivering.

“To Mingi, who lived and fought bravely and is now resting with the mother goddess!”

Without pause, you repeated the king’s words and they erupted from your throat in a scream. It was a wild sound full of remorse but also respect and gratitude. It blended with the Saeni’s shouts and the smoke to soar past the leaves and into the sky. The aching in your chest panged as everyone’s voices scattered in the wind and your fingers automatically shifted, searching out Jungkook’s dagger. Breathing out with tensed muscles when your fingertips touched the warming gemstone, you continued watching the group across the fire. Strangely, you didn’t feel compelled to whisper to the hazel-eyed Saeni even as you could faintly hear the kiela doing so. Illai had said Mingi would only know peace now, and you didn’t want to bother him with more of your dreary apologies. Instead, an idea began to form in your mind as you stared at the unknown group of males and how they were sniffling and struggling to keep themselves together.

I don’t know who they are or who they were to you, Mingi, but you are obviously very important to them… so I’m willing to bet they are just as important to you.

The prayer for Mingi ended, yet you didn’t go back with the boys. Rather, you hurried around the blazing fire and toward the group of males. You trailed after them, trying to catch up without making a scene as the king announced the next Saeni to honor. Some of the males had their heads down and were stumbling, but they moved fast, and it took you nearly a minute to reach them.

“Um, excuse me?” You tentatively stretched your arm out to the closest one but wavered just before you touched their back.

Although you didn’t make physical contact with the male, he must have sensed your proximity because he abruptly stopped. This in turn made the others in the group come to halt one by one, and then they all turned around.

You faltered slightly at their broken expressions but stammered out, “M-Mingi saved my life. He sacrificed himself to save my life. I’m still here only because of him and-”

The tallest Saeni in the middle of the pack suddenly sobbed into his hand. His whole body shuddered, and his red eyes grew glassy before he placed the palm of his free hand over his forehead to hide his face. He took a shaky step backwards, then spun around and hastily raced away. In a heartbeat, most of the other males went after him. All except for two. The shorter male left had strawberry-red hair, and the other was a dirty blonde with one side shaved.

What did I just do? You moved to cover your mouth, shocked by the insensitivity of your own words.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just thought you deserved to know.”

You poured all the sincerity you could into your apology, feeling so ashamed of yourself. You approached them thinking Mingi would appreciate you checking in on them… but here you were making them hurt and cry even more.

“Thank you,” the strawberry head replied somberly but there was no anger lacing his tone. “We’re all taking it hard, but Yunho… Yunho is taking it the worst.”

The male shifted, misery etched on his features, and the blonde male clenched his jaw and glared at the floor while yells rose into the air behind you.

“If you… if you ever want to talk or know more about what happened…”

I want to be there for you. For Mingi. And this is the only way I can think of doing that right now.

The shorter male sharply inhaled, and his companion was quick to place a steadying hand on his back.

Sniffling loudly, the strawberry-haired Saeni raised a knuckle and bit down on it which made his eyes clearer. “I think that might be good for us, just…”

“Not right now,” you finished for him gently, acknowledging the shit timing.

The male sent you a sad, miniscule smile, and you told them your name and to find you whenever they were ready.

“Thank you, Y/N.” The strawberry head lowered his head slightly as the other male guided him to pivot his feet.

Then they left, and all the sudden it felt like the wind was knocked out you. Your arms went around your middle and your breathing picked up and went uneven as your shoulders heaved. When your throat started to constrict, you briskly pushed through the Saeni to get back to the boys.

Just as your lungs were becoming too tight, the kiela came in sight.

Jin perked up at your arrival. “We were wondering where you we-oh shit.” The male’s dark eyes bugged out at your distraught appearance.

“Y/N?” Jimin hurried to your side and pulled you against his chest.

You were also smothered from behind and the worried noises you heard told you it was none other than Tae sandwiching you. Your head turned to the side, and you saw Hobi’s gaze narrow and flit around as his hands traveled over his front. The white-haired Saeni looked down confused before he sighed and leaned over to whisper in Yoongi’s ear. Whatever he said made the magic user’s face twist. Consequently, Yoongi called Namjoon and Jin over as Jimin and Tae continued trying to calm you down. You felt a little better being held by both of your closest friends, but the entire situation was becoming too much. The memories, the guilt, the hurt, the disappointment. They had been building and building and you felt like they were about to spray out like an over shaken soda bottle any second.

You breathed deeply, trying to screw the cap on over your emotions more securely, when Namjoon trotted over and instructed you to follow him. Both Jimin and Tae unwrapped themselves from you and while the latter switched to holding your hand, your best friend told you to grab onto the back of his shirt. The apricot head began to trail after his leader and other kiela members, safely towing you and Tae through the crowd until you exited the room between the tree trunks. You nearly stumbled at the sudden openness and gasped at how it instantly helped you breathe easier, but the spaciousness also allowed your tears to well up and begin rolling down your cheeks.

Pouting, Tae came close and wiped them away with his sleeves while you clutched at Jimin’s shirt.

I want Kookie.

Tae studied you as he dried your tears. “Does anyone see Kook?” he asked his brothers, as if he could read your mind.

The kiela did a quick three-sixty, looking around the Saei, trees, and visible fires, but nobody spotted the burgundy head. With a tired groan, Yoongi stalked over and nudged Jimin and Tae out of the way so that he could place his hands on your shoulders. The magic user swiftly turned you around and began to steer you through the trees from behind. He guided you down the first path you came across, past countless occupied fires, and under the shade and sunlight until he found an empty fire to his liking. Leading you off the path to where it was warm and out of the smoke, Yoongi pushed down so you were forced to sit. In the next second, Tae situated himself beside you. He stayed silent, just being there for you as you leaned into him and slowly settled down now that you were away from the commotion. Meanwhile, once they were satisfied you were going to be okay, the boys made a loose circle around the fire and started to honor more Saeni.

Several prayers went by and you kept hearing quiet whispering by your head, so you mumbled, “You should go and honor those you need to TaeTae.”

“Don’t you worry about me, little scorja.” His voice contained a smile and he shifted to lightly poke your cheek. “I can honor them all just fine from right here.”

After some time, you got a grip on yourself and the boys finished their prayers. The Saeni rested on the ground and you all listened to the forest and nearby fires. It was an orchestra of buzzing, creaking, snapping, and distant shouting. The symphony went on and on, never ending, until the busy silence was interrupted by someone saying your name in surprise. Jerking your gaze to the path, you saw five young Saeni waving at you.

While you were shocked at the unexpected appearance of your training buddies, Jin grinned and gestured for them to come sit.

“Are you sure?” Soobin asked in an awestruck but unsure tone. “We wouldn’t want to overstep.”

“Just get your asses over here baby BTS Saeni,” Tae called to them.

Shyly, they made their way to the fire and sat down next to each other, as if they were scared to spread out and take up too much room. Jin just laughed and asked how they were doing while Tae purposefully matched over to squat directly in the middle of their safety nest. The younger Saeni jumped at the intrusion but began to relax as Tae and Jin brought the others into the conversation.

“You all remember them, right?” The eldest member of the kiela crossed his arms and scrutinized his brothers. “Little scorja’s friends from the sparring match?”

As Hobi defended his memory, Soobin scooted over to you and flicked your knee to get your attention. “Hey, I saw Jungkook sitting by himself. Is everything okay?”

Despite your pulse spiking at the mention of the male, you whispered back that you didn’t know if everything was okay. You peered down at Jungkook’s dagger, it’s presence on your body light yet undeniable, before focusing back on the chocolate-haired Saeni and asking if he could point you in the direction he had seen the male. Once verifying the general route from his index finger, you thanked Soobin and gently rustled his hair, making the young male complain and yank his head away with a grumpy expression. Suppressing a snort, you stood as all the other males were distracted by their conversations. Observant as ever, though, Yoongi managed to catch the movement but he merely rolled his eyes and faintly shooed you away with his hand while never looking away from the speaking Taehyun.

Besides the delicate shaking of the shrubbery, you quietly made your way back to the path. You shivered in the absence of the warm fire, but you rubbed your arms up and down and set off in the direction Soobin had pointed in. Following the path, you wandered past a few careening Saeni that were slurring and babbling as well as numerous fires with bodies gathered all around the flames. Although Soobin said Jungkook was alone, you still paused long enough to make sure he wasn’t at any of the fires before moving along the path. Plunging further into the trees, the shade was cool on your skin and the breeze left goosebumps where it blew against your open arms and collarbones. You continued to meander down the winding path. You listened to the bugs click and the birds chirp… but for the last minute, all the fires you walked by were deserted and dying out. Any prayers you could hear were distant echoes. There was no one around and you started doubting you were going to find Jungkook. Clenching your hands into fists in frustration, you told yourself just a little further. Just a little more and then you would turn back.

What if he’s at the next fire and I turn back now?

What if he’s just ahead?

What if he’s right around this curve?

Then you saw a fire through the trees that was burning more brightly than any you’d passed in several minutes. Holding your breath, you approached the glowing area with quiet footfalls. Hope surged in your heart, making the muscle pound in your chest, while the shadows and rays of sunlight shifted with the swaying trees.

And through the leaves and branches you saw him.

He was in front of the flames with his back to you and one forearm resting against his propped-up knee. His body was partially covered by the low foliage, but burgundy consumed your vision. It was him. For a moment, you didn’t make any movements. For a moment, you simply looked at him. For a moment, you let your body fill with the ache how much you had missed him. As you took him in, you noticed his fist was against his hip and the hand was constantly tightening and relaxing. It was right where his dagger was usually strapped to his side. Without thinking, your fingers went straight to the sheath at your waist and undid the buckle before your feet moved on their own accord. Almost as soon as your boots were off the path, Jungkook was twisting around at the sound of crunching leaves. Your stomach fluttered as you finally saw his aggravatingly handsome face and the way his peridot eyes brightened at the sight of you.

Neither of you said anything as you walked through the vegetation, but you smiled knowingly and extended the dagger and sheath in your hand out toward him, fully expecting him to flush cutely and rub the back of his neck before reclaiming the weapon and tugging you down onto his lap.

What you didn’t expect was for his eyes to darken angrily and for him to turn to face the crackling fire.

You smile faltered, as did your steps, so you stopped and stared at Jungkook’s back with your arm still outstretched.

“It’s yours. I gave it to you,” Jungkook lowly said and you recoiled at how detached he sounded.

Your arm dropped to your side. Jungkook’s muscles tensed, but his mouth didn’t open again.

Why won’t he look at me? Why does he sound like that?

The breeze picked up, rustling the forest, and you slightly tremored along with the leaves. You felt yourself growing hot with both confusion and frustration, but in the end, you tightly gripped the dagger and marched over to the male.

This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with asshat Kook. I can handle this. It’ll be okay.

Wordlessly, you sat down next to him and placed the blade on the ground between your bodies. Schooling your face into a normal expression, you folded your hands over your lap but there was nothing you could do to fully hide the shaking of your body. You were startled by his words and actions, especially because you didn’t know why he was being like that, but you ignored it the best you could and glanced at Jungkook whose gaze bore into the blazing embers.

Sighing and spreading your skirt while you crossed your legs to sit more comfortably, you picked up a tiny twig and tossed it into the flames. “So, uh, how’s your back?”

“It’s fine,” he replied bluntly and free of any emotions.

Your brow twitched as you watched the twig warp and blacken. “You know you scared the shit out me then.”

“Yeah well, so did you.” Jungkook’s voice was abruptly soft, so much so that you almost didn’t hear him over the sounds of the forest and the snapping flames.

You looked at the burgundy head again as the already meager conversation came to a standstill. His face was shrouded in both shadows and glowing light… and his expression was completely empty and void. You could see the fire reflecting his hardened gaze, but his green orbs were dim. There was no teasing glint or cocky confidence illuminating them. It made your heart hurt. Why the hell was it like this? What had happened? What should you say?

While playing with the hem of your dress, you swallowed and gingerly spoke up again, “I… I think I’m gonna go back to Earth soon.”

It was something you had been debating over the recent weeks. No matter how much you loved this world, you still had a life back there. You had a family, who currently had no idea where you were or if you were even alive. You had bills and school and obligations and so many things you would have to take care of before you coul-

Jungkook let out a rough scoff but just continued glaring into the fire.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “That’s it?”

That’s his only reaction? A laugh?

“I’m not sure what you’re wanting from me.”

You flinched, a new splinter of pain digging into your chest to cut past your ribcage and gouge into your heart.

Your gaze lowered to your trembling hands. I want you to ask me to stay… Biting your lip, you raised your head to plead with Jungkook’s profile.

But his peridot eyes never shifted over to you and it was suddenly difficult for you to form words.

You grasped at your dress in a poor attempt to stabilize yourself. “I, um-okay.” Your voice was tight. “I’ll leave you alone then since you don’t want me around.”

He didn’t negate you.

Standing up on unsteady legs, you willed yourself not to react as you brushed the earth from your bottom and left the fire.

Don’t react. Stay calm. Don’t react. Stay calm. Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t react.

But once you got back on the path, your pace became faster and faster and faster until you were hurrying away as fast as you could while your mind fell into disarray.

He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want me. Did his feelings change? Were they ever real in the first place? Was I just some sort of sick challenge for him?

A stray pebble ricocheted into the forest after being kicked by your foot.

It hurts.

Your hand pressed down over your heart in an attempt to relieve some of the pain.

It hurts so much more than it ever did with Jimin. Your upper body curled in on itself. Why does it hurt so much?

You hardly registered where you were going or what you were walking past. You had no clear destination in mind, you just knew you needed to get away.

But how could you get away from your own heartache?

You couldn’t wrap your head around it. You and Jungkook had been physically apart for weeks, you both had practically hated each other at first even, but this… this moment was the furthest you had ever felt from him. Even when you would be at his throat and vice versa, he would still interact with you. He would talk to you and glare at you and…

Fuck…

It felt like your body was concurrently freezing cold and burning hot, and there was a deep, throbbing pang resonating across your chest. It coiled up into your airway, making you struggle to breathe. It crawled up into your eyes, making them blur and go in and out of focus. Leaves and twigs were suddenly crunching loudly under your boots and you realized you had strayed off the path with your bleary vision. You hiccupped and just kept going. Occasionally tripping over roots and the uneven ground, you plunged deeper in the forest. A small stream eventually appeared by your side and you listened to the lull of flowing water as you followed its bends. The sun was beginning to dip below the tree line, casting a golden light on the world and causing the shadows to grow longer and darker. Your vision slowly cleared, and you sniffled while forcefully wiping at your cheeks. Then the forest opened, and you paused. You knew exactly where you were.

Good job guys. You tenderly patted your legs before walking around the small pond with heavy steps. The light of the setting sun bounced off the pond’s rippling surface, and you admired the beauty of it out of the corner of your eye as you made your way to the willow tree. Gently brushing past the thin, scratchy branches with your hands, you collapsed beneath the tree’s canopy. Your eyes traveled over the pretty floral vine twisting around the trunk before shifting to watch the tree’s elegant limbs move back and forth in the wind. The familiarity of the scene dulled some of the hurt, but you couldn’t help the broken laugh that spilled from your lips.

Weeping willow… how fitting right now.

Beyond the leaves and branches, you could see the darkening blue sky become mixed with a vivid array of colors around the setting sun. You tried to appreciate it, but… it only reminded you of a rainy night on a cliff. The night when Jungkook…

No. Stop. Fuck, I can’t sit here and wallow on memories. I should go back to the boys. Or maybe find Yugyeom and take him up on his offer. No… if anyone is kicking that asshat’s ass it’s me.

The impulse to fight briefly flared in your veins but it died out just as quickly.

I don’t want to kick his ass. I just… want him to…

You harshly pinched yourself, making you hiss through your teeth.

The thin branches lurched in the wind, the water flowed and gurgled, and the sunlight gleamed through the forest, reminding you of golden flecks in perido-

You pinched yourself again and whimpered.

I’ll just keep thinking about him if I’m alone.

What you desperately needed was a comforting distraction, and you knew exactly who could provide that. It might be a little awkward since they were Jungkook’s brothers, but Jimin was your best friend and the other boys were like family now. They would take care of you.

With your decision made, you soaked up the calm ambiance for one final minute before picking yourself up and trudging back to the tree line. Your feet moved more sluggishly; your energy sapped. As your boots practically dragged, you wondered what Yoongi was going to say when he saw you.

I hope he isn’t disappointed. I don’t know if I can handle more of that today.

You sighed and stepped around a sapling to reenter the thick forest. I just want TaeTae cuddles and some of that viitulx. And food. Maybe Jin will be willing to ma-

The loud crack of a branch snapping came from up ahead. You flinched and went on alert as you scanned your surroundings. Inhaling quietly, you reached over your shoulder but froze as you remembered you didn’t have your bow and quiver. You cursed and prayed it was just a branch falling to the ground or an animal on a casual evening stroll. That prayer was instantly revoked as you noticed a figure stumbling through the trees as they followed the stream.

Shit. You panicked, frantically looking around for something to use as a weapon when you finally came to your senses. You weren’t at the field. You weren’t in danger. It wasn’t a draikensu.

Fucking hell, it’s probably just some lost drunk.

Your shoulders slumped and you breathed deeply to try to calm your racing heart. You looked back to the person, contemplating if you should approach them or not when your body stiffened.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…

It was fucking Jeon Jungkook.

The burgundy head was looking down and shuffling through the forest with both his hands up to his head. One of them held his dagger and pressed the weapon against his temple. You gaped at the male, watching his mouth move as if he was mumbling to himself. He was straight ahead of you and coming closer with every passing second but he hadn’t noticed you yet.

It felt as if you were caught in a headlight. You couldn’t bring yourself to move and weren’t sure what you should do.

Jungkook continued nearing and he got close enough that you could hear him groan, “I’m such a fucking idiot. Why did I do that?” He tugged at his hair and lifted his head to look up at the blackening sky… but froze as his gaze locked on to you standing there.

“Y/N?” he whispered, so heartachingly soft, but you ducked your head to avoid his peridot eyes.

You thought maybe you could hide him if you pretended he wasn’t there.

You squeezed your hands into fists and took slow, measured breaths.

“Y/N…” he said your name again, this time closer and more choked up.

Yet, you still didn’t move. Neither to walk away or to look up at him.

You heard him come even closer. He was so near that you could find traces of his scent in the air, but you continued to stay still.

“I fucked up. I hurt you… again.”

You could sense his body right in front of you. Feel his warmth. See his boots almost touching the toes of yours. You didn’t move your head, but you lifted your eyes a bit. You could see his hand gripping the dagger at his side while his other went to reach for you before hesitating and dropping back down.

“I… At first, I was embarrassed,” the male said quietly, “Embarrassed that I got injured when I said nothing would happen, which is so stupid, but I was worried you would think less of me.”

You forced yourself to breathe slowly.

“And then I was healing, and I was so anxious to get back to you, to hold you, to be with you… but then I started thinking of how you only came to Illain for hyung and how you might leave me now that everything was over.”

Your chest tightened and you noticed Jungkook’s hand that was holding the dagger was starting to tremble. Against your better judgement, you steeled yourself and raised your head.

Jungkook’s face was highlighted by the glow of the setting sun, the golden light enveloping him like a halo… but his peridot eyes were burning with panic and shame. His breathing was ragged and his eyebrows were drawn close together. His entire demeanor was meek and small and so unlike him that you almost took a step back.

As you finally looked at him, Jungkook lips pressed together while he made a noise in his throat, and he momentarily flicked his gaze up to the treetops before exhaling heavily. “Every time I thought of you leaving, I could barely breathe. It hurt… it hurt so much and I fucking hated it.” Jungkook’s voice was getting increasingly weak and his eyes glistened with as they lowered to focus on your neck. “But there’s no way I could ask you to leave your entire life on Earth behind, so I thought it might hurt less if I pushed you away before you could just… vanish from my life.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a melancholic ghost of a smile. “Then you said you were going back to Earth and the exact thing I was terrified of was suddenly happening. Next thing I know, I was watching you walk away…”

Your hammering heart was barraged by a swarm of confused and conflicted feelings, and you could only stare at the male while you tried to process through them all.

The leaves rustled all around you, and Jungkook shook his head firmly as his peridot eyes suddenly brightened with determination and he looked straight at you. “I shouldn’t… I know I shouldn’t… but I’m going to be selfish. I have to be. I love you too much to just let you walk away. So please… please stay. Stay in Illain. Stay with me.”

A single sentence blew through your crazed, jumbled emotions like a rifle shot.

I love you too much to just let you walk away.

A rush of heat traveled through your body and your breath hitched. “You love me?”

You heard a gentle thud then Jungkook was cupping your face with both his hands. “I love you. I am in love with you, Y/N. Please stay.”

Your entire body tingled, your face grew warm, and you silently regarded the male for several seconds. The way the tips of his long ears were burning, the way you could feel his body shaking, the way his lips lightly parted as he nervously waited your response.

Slowly, you reached up to encircle one of his wrists in your hand. “Remember how I wanted to tell you something before the battle, but you said to wait?”

He hummed, anxious hope swimming in his eyes.

Tenderly brushing your thumb against his skin, you deeply inhaled then whispered, “I love you Jeon Jungkook.”

The trees shook, the stream burbled, and Jungkook’s hold on your face became stronger so he could pull you in closer.

“Really?” he asked in a small whisper as his eyes searched yours.

You smiled and gave him a tiny nod, making Jungkook immediately wound his arms around you to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot for thinking I should try to protect my heart-”

“More of an asshat, actually.” You declared, still smiling as warmth swirled through you.

The male pulled back to glare at you, but it contained a playful heat. “Well, my idiotic heart is entirely yours. Break it, stab it, do whatever you desire with it.”

Shifting forward, you placed a gentle kiss on his chest right over his heart. “I desire to love it.”

“So, you’ll stay?”

You leaned back into him and gripped at his shirt while breathing in that intoxicating scent of his. Humming in content, you whispered you would stay… but that you did also need to go to Earth for a bit to settle some things before permanently moving to a different world.

The ending of your answer made the male whine loudly in your ear and sag most of his weight on you.

Staggering a step, you rolled your eyes and patted Jungkook’s back. “You’re a big boy, you can handle it.”

The Saeni chuckled against your neck before straightening and sending you a cocky smirk. “You know what I bet you can’t handle?”

“If you’re about to say your dick, I’m changing my mi-”

“My love!” he blurted out a little too quickly, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “You can’t handle my love for you.”

You raised at brow at the flushing male that was now pointedly averting his eyes, not believing for one second that “his love” was what he originally intended to say.

While you fondly looked at the male, Jungkook began shifting his gaze from behind you to your face to behind you repeatedly until he asked how you were there. “Did hyung tell you about it?”

Your brows furrowed. You had no idea what he was talking about. “Tell me about what?”

“The pond and… the willow tree.”

You pursed your lips, still not understanding his initial question. “No? I found this place last week while wandering around. It makes me feel safe and calm when I sit under the willo-wait. Why are you here? Did you follow me?... Why are you smiling like that?”

The burgundy-haired Saeni was grinning happily, as if he knew something you didn’t. “Do you remember when Tae hyung did your morning training because I said I had to check on something?”

You tilted your head to the side. How could you forget that morning? It was the day you learned about Tae’s draeva.

“I had to come here.”

“Why? So you could jack off in extremely secluded privacy?”

“I-… no.” The Saeni gave you an exasperated look which soon transformed into an enamored smile and he shifted to lightly touch the mark on your nape, making you shiver lightly. “The willow tree is my draeva.”

You jaw dropped. “Your… draeva…”

Laughing, Jungkook grasped your hand and he excitedly tugged you out of the tree line and back toward the pond and willow tree. “I’ll show you my handprint!” Stunned by the sudden knowledge, you let him pull you along as he pleased. Not that you wouldn’t have gone anyway. “Also, I guess you could say it’s our draeva now…”

You gaped at the area, in disbelief that you had inadvertently found Jungkook’s draeva. The stream continued to flow leisurely. The pond was shimmering with the fading sun and rising moonlight. The willow tree was standing tall and its thin branches were gently swaying. You were so distracted that you ran into Jungkook’s firm back. Letting out a surprised noise, you hastily grabbed his waist so you wouldn’t fall. Huffing, you went to complain to the male for stopping so suddenly, but you noticed he was fixated on the willow tree. Specifically, he was staring at the orange flowers wrapped around its trunk.

“Scorja,” he murmured.

“Hmm?”

“No, the flowers,” he said in wonder, “There are scorja flowers on my draeva, our draeva.”

He swiveled to face you, and you only got a glimpse of the lustful delight on his features before he yanked you close and pressed his lips against yours.

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akitokihojo · 3 years

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Monster - Chapter 1

And, here we go. Chapter 1 of this monstrosity (no pun intended) is now up and running below, on AO3, and on FF.net.

I'm going to be completely and 100% honest with everyone before you start reading, so please heed this warning! This first chapter is rough in the sense where it contains a bit of brutality and the death of a child. So far, this is the only gruesome chapter, and while the gore is NOT detailed, I still want my more sensitive readers to be wary.

This is the most action-packed fic I've ever written, and also the most expansive world I've ever built (in my humble opinion). With that being said, while the setting is a bit more on the historical side, there are plenty of modern references. For instance, not in this chapter but in future ones, a bathroom is just a bathroom. I don't mention plumbing or the lack thereof. My attention and energy was on more important things and I just didn't care about those details, lol. Additionally, a lot of slang, jokes, and references are fairly modern. Don't @ me (but also do). All-in-all, what I'm trying to say is I built my own damn world where there is no historical accuracy, so don't go looking for it, lol.

Unless otherwise stated, I plan to post each new chapter every Friday. So, yeah... I think that's all I've got to say.... have fun! Enjoy! Thank you for reading! Ily! Bon Voyage! Don't hate me!

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The responsibility is ours.

Kagome gasped as her feet slid in the mud, the small decline of the path she and her younger brother hurried down gradually becoming more slippery as the rain began to pour harder. Through the noise of the droplets and the sloshing of their boots, she heard a slight commotion; horses’ huffs, heavy feet, and boisterous men barking orders. Initially, she’d figured it was the village men ushering their families indoors, their livestock into barns, their carts and tools under shelter, and their firewood into a dry place as the storm reared its ugly head. The sunset sky was shadowed in gloom, thunder making it’s entrance in the far distance as it was bound to be banging on their doors and windows in no time. But, at the tug of her arm by her sibling, her attention was shifted to the actual cause of it all: Naraku’s henchmen.

“Again?” She shuddered resentfully.

“Third time this month.” Sota confirmed, clenching his jaw as he slightly tugged his sister behind his smaller frame. He was perfectly aware that he was only twelve, well in the know that he stood no taller than her shoulders, but he’d be damned if he did nothing because of it.

This time, there wasn’t a hoard of them. No, there were merely four, all of which were already off of their horses on the main path through their little village, making demands and threatening anyone who got in the way of their objective.

Throughout the last four and a half years since Naraku rose as a fearsome demon that easily brought down peaceful powers and attempted to control the world Kagome knew, she’d become more than familiar with this procedure. It wasn’t until just recently that they’d started coming more often than a monthly visit, though. And, it was no secret what, or who, they were after.

Her.

Anyone of her kind, really.

She was different. She was hunted. Those like her were supposedly powerful, but matters being what they were had caused anyone who shared a similar fate to subdue their abilities to the point of total lack of recognition of their true potential. At least, that’s how it was in most cases. Because, if they were found out, they were killed on sight. The reason for it was entirely unknown. Naraku didn’t just target them, though; he made everyone’s lives hell, especially if they stood out in a supernatural manner. So, while she figured there had to be a yet-to-be-identified reason, she felt it was safe to assume it was also just because he could. Maybe he didn’t like the threat of other, similar forces that could collide against him. Maybe he was egotistical enough to think he was the only deserving being. Whatever the case, he was cruel.

Kagome’s kind had several names through the decades - so many, she hardly knew the correct term for herself. At one point, ages ago, they were called banshees. The title didn’t make sense whatsoever, given their powers and what a banshee actually was, and the story was so old that she didn’t know where the justification even stemmed from, but it caused them to be feared, and for that, she honestly wouldn’t have totally minded if the name stuck around. They were called priestesses, but then it sounded too peaceful, too practiced, and it painted them as “good.” They were called witches, mages, sorceresses, but they committed no typical magic of that sort. Kagome didn’t know a single spell, nor did she have nearly enough time in the day to pack an array of herbs, spices, and what have you into jars that were sealed with candle wax - though she had caught wind that there were some older women of her kind with the ability to curse. Now, they were called conjurers. Their abilities were that of the spirit, aiding with protection, purifying dark forces - passively or forcefully, bringing forth light, and more she was sure.

In Kagome’s unpopular opinion, given what they could do and what they supposedly stood for, priestess was more suitable a term, but she also understood that there was nothing holy about the world they lived in.

There was no birthmark of the conjurer. There was no dead giveaway of their kind. The powers were gifted at random, as far as she knew, not passed down through lineage. The only thing Naraku and his followers seemingly had to go off of was that conjurers were born female.

Sometimes, they’d conduct their mission by way of senseless inspections. They’d rip apart the insides of homes looking for all the wrong things in all the wrong places. Truthfully, with how absurd they carried themselves, it was obvious they didn’t know the telltale signs they were looking for and were wasting their time. Which was what made it clear that for them to be so clueless, even Naraku didn’t know all there was that made up a conjurer. They were ignorant and they were blind, but they were also relentless and ruthless.

The days where they singled women out were the worst. Kagome, so far, was spared that cruelty, but that didn’t make it any better. It was usually the more mature, the elderly, that received the short end of the stick.

More often than anything, they’d line up every woman and girl in town and go down the rows one-by-one, stimulating their nerves in one way or another to see if they could get a “conjurer’s reaction.” Kagome could only guess that meant a sudden surge of purification power. It was the main trait conjurers were known for; but they were going about it wrong. Screaming in their faces, threatening everyone, or jostling them around a bit wasn’t going to get the demons purified, no matter how much she wanted to toss something their way. Of course, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell them that.

Every so often, they’d come in a pack and create havoc with violence. They said it was their way to pressure people into giving up any information they might have, but in all honesty, the smiles some of the brute demons wore said they were bored and simply wanted a little entertainment. Apparently, screaming and pleading were equivalent to a musical number in their bloodlust eyes.

Their own little group of demon slayers that resided in the village helped prevent this from happening when they could, which was why the henchmen came in numbers. The demon slayers fought for a sense of control, not to kill. They would only allow so much, but belligerent violence was not an option. It was obvious that, as of late, their village was a targeted spot, one that got a little more attention than neighboring towns, and for what reason, no one knew. They didn’t have the fighting power to win that sort of fight, though, and the leader of the group of slayers was sensible enough to understand this and explain it to the masses that questioned them. They were made up of a handful of men with rigorous combat skills they didn’t learn from home, refused to take recruits below a certain age, and could only train so many at a time. As much as they’d all love to retaliate and end things for good, intuition was telling them not to in that manner. Even Kagome felt that. Deep in her gut, she knew that even if they could, killing them would only put the people of the village in a worse position. This wasn’t something that would stop by taking out the underlings. Not at all. Far from it. Anyone who was paying attention could see that they’d need to exterminate the head honcho in order for any positive difference to be made.

Unfortunately for them this time around, their little pack of demon slayers had left on a request to take care of a troublesome demon a little ways off just that morning. And, listening to the henchmen now, seeing them in their dark leather, their cloaks, feeling their dangerous energies wafting through the streets of their little town, Kagome could tell that they were going to do whatever they wanted tonight, despite the fact that it was just the four of them. It wouldn’t be horrible, and would most likely be a lineup, but they were definitely going to take their sweet time and see who they could break.

“There’s still time. They haven’t noticed you. We can hide you.” Her younger brother said, his tone more on the convicted side as opposed to suggestive. He should have known she wouldn’t have gone for it, though. So long as every other woman and girl had to stand in front of their villainous promises and vile breath, so long as her mother had to keep a straight face, Kagome would always stand there with them. She’d made a promise to her brother, her older cousin, and especially her mom that she’d never willingly out herself for no reason, but she just couldn’t bring herself to hide when everyone else had to stand through their harassment. She swore that if the demons were ever convinced an innocent was a conjurer, that was the reason to give herself over.

Never would Kagome allow another to mistakenly go down in her stead.

No one but her family knew of her powers, and until necessary, it would stay that way. According to her cousin, the more people that knew, the increased danger she was in.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She shook her head, minding her steps through the small slope of mud as she gently pulled her arm out of Sota’s grip.

“Miroku would say the same thing if he were with us.” He argued.

“Yeah, well he’s not. In fact, he’s probably getting himself into trouble by picking a fight with one of those goons.”

“Kagome, I have a bad feeling about this. Come on, just listen for once.”

“Okay,” She stopped, turning around to challenge his look. “Say something bad is going to happen. Knowing these assholes, you really think my absence will stop that?”

“No, but -“

“Right. They’re going to do something no matter what, correct?”

“Kagome -“

“And then what?”

“And then they’re wrong, but they didn’t get you.”

“How is that fair to the person they might hurt?”

“That person isn’t my sister.”

“What if it’s mom?”

Sota’s eyes slighted to the side, a heated huff leaving his lips just before he begrudgingly sealed them. His jaw clenched minutely as his head gave a little shake, brown eyes once more meeting his sibling’s. “Miroku and I will protect her.”

Kagome gave a fed up smile, sighing, rolling her eyes, and turning back on her heel to continue toward the main path. Families came out of their homes dressed in cloaks as they prepared to, once more, be harassed until Naraku’s men exhausted themselves, husbands and male relatives holding resentful expressions as they guarded their female family members until they couldn’t any longer.

“Kagome!”

“Sota, quit it. The louder you are, the more suspicious we become.” She quietly warned. Kagome heard her brother’s aggravated grumble before he jogged forward to catch up, his demeanor holding much like every other male in the village.

No one’s feet rushed toward the excitement. The tension of the town was up so dramatically that Kagome could physically feel the crushing weight of it all, the anxiety as they made their way closer to their disgusting visitors was causing her stomach to bubble and waver, and her throat constricted nervously as she and Sota finally met up with the crowd, her brown eyes scouring over shoulders to scout out her family. Sota’s hand encircled her wrist firmly, tugging her to the right as he found them and guided her over. Miroku stood tall in front of their mother, brows noticeably creased and indigo eyes straight ahead until he’d caught their movement in his peripheral vision. Immediately, his posture squared further, as if enlarging his shoulders so that he’d be able to successfully hide both Kagome and his aunt behind his frame. Her mother held out her hand for Kagome to take as soon as they were close enough, a peaceful smile unsurprisingly gracing her lips while she pulled her in, shoulder-to-shoulder. Somehow, no matter the circumstances, she always did her best to calm Kagome’s nerves with the simplest of sweet gestures. Sota took his spot before them, influenced by Miroku’s stature as he replicated it.

Allowing herself a brief moment, Kagome bowed her head further, bracing it on her older cousin’s shoulder. She shut her eyes, inhaling slowly, deeply, attempting to release her trepidation with a long and heated exhale before composing herself and straightening out.

“- But this is too much! Why the hell are you back again!? There’s no conjurer in our village! Don’t you fucking get that by now!?” A man shouted, livid, and it was evident she and her brother had missed the beginning of the argument playing out in the center of the uneven circle created by people.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” One of Naraku’s men yelled back.

“Not until you tell us why you’re back for the third time!”

“Would you rather we made ourselves at home!?” Silence from the opposing man answered his question clearly. “That’s what I fucking thought.” He spewed, and Kagome could hear the spittle fly out as he cursed. His attention returned to the general public, his tone shifting from vicious to gruff as he made his command. “Only girls ranging from ages five to twenty, line up! Now!”

Increased unsettlement coursed through the crowd, mothers and fathers clinging to their young daughters, little girls’ fearful whimpers polluting the air as they hid their faces in their parents’ legs, and even Kagome’s own mother’s hand tightened her grip as a breathy gasp left her lips - understanding that this meant her eighteen year old daughter was being sent into the fire without her. They were narrowing down, slimming the numbers, and the small smiles on the villains’ faces made Kagome assume that something last time may have tipped them off to lessen the demographic.

“What do I do?” Kagome whispered to her cousin, failing in her attempt to hide the sudden panic striking her.

“Nothing. You do nothing.” He urged quietly, shifting his head to look into his younger relative’s eyes. “Listen, Kagome, treat this like routine -“

“This isn’t routine.”

“Treat it like it is. Keep your head down.”

“If they -“

“No.”

“But, they’ll -“

“Kagome, no. You made us a promise.” Miroku reminded firmly, knowing exactly where her mind was traveling. In the case of an incident, which there seemed to be a higher chance of this time around, she may need to intercede.

She took a deep breath, straightening her face as much as possible so Naraku’s men wouldn’t grow suspicious as they impatiently yelled again for the girls to gather before them. “If this means they suspect something -“

“It may just be a tactic they’re using. For all we know, they have nothing and could leave here with the same. So, treat it like routine. Okay?”

“Promise.” Sota insisted during Kagome’s silence. The mens’ barking got louder, more demanding, as did the crying of little girls being pulled away from their parents. With the building weight in her chest, like a liquid filling her lungs quickly, the density making it almost impossible to take full breaths of air or move without falling forward, all she could muster was a meager nod before forcing herself to walk out. Miroku and Sota both leaned to opposite sides to part their shoulders for her to move through, her mother’s soft hand still lightly holding her own until she was far enough for their fingers to slide away from each other’s.

At most, there were about twenty girls in that age range to offer, and Kagome’s brown eyes drifted over the uneven row of heads as she approached, finding her friend in the mix trying to calm the little girl beside her. Sango glanced her way, as if feeling Kagome’s eyes on her, giving an apprehensive grin and waving her over.

“Ready?” Kagome asked, though it was completely rhetorical. It was just habit for these things. It was unavoidable, unexpected, and overall, impossible to be ready for. But, when they bounced the question off of each other, it was like one final reminder to stone.

Sango knew. Sango and her family were the one exception to the familial rule. She was Kagome’s closest friend and Miroku’s significant other. She was more than trustworthy. And, more importantly, had known since Kagome accidentally found out, herself, as a kid. Because, that’s how it was being a conjurer. You weren’t born knowing. You didn’t have an outward appearance that proclaimed your status much like demons did. It was always an accidental happenstance; in her case where she put a little too much oomph into her bow and arrow lessons and purified the evil - and life - right out of a passing crow demon after missing her target.

She remembered the feeling of total surprise, then tremendous fear because she thought she’d be in a lot of trouble. Kagome had literally thrown her bow to the ground like the thing, itself, was the culprit of the power. Miroku was gawking, Sango was covering her mouth with both hands, and their dad’s shared an identical, tight-lipped expression. Her papa was motionless for an overwhelmingly-tense sixty seconds before shifting his wide, curious eyes to her.

“Did you know you could do that?” He’d asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, daddy.” Kagome innocently answered, but she could feel the red, hot heat in her face from her lie. She was awful at those when it came to the people she was close to. Still was to this day. Give her a stranger and she could keep it straight, but in the face of friends and family, she cracked almost too easily. It was a guilt thing.

But then he’d laughed, ruffling his little girl’s hair before reassuring her that it was okay. He said they’d just have to go about her training a little differently from that point on to make sure accidents like that didn’t keep happening, and it was only because of him, his adventurism, his accessibility to knowledge from his travels, that she even discovered what she was in the first place.

Back then, though it wasn’t quite as dangerous to exist as a conjurer, her papa had still suggested they keep her abilities under wraps. She distinctly remembered binding that with a pinky promise after Sango’s dad had a private discussion with her own. Maybe it was because Sango’s dad was even more educated with the world, and knew the potential hardships that could come her way, being the leader of the demon slayers that he was - and still is. Honestly, the reasoning was hard to determine now because she didn’t put much thought into it when she could and should have. Being the young, spunky, loyal girl that she was, if her dad wanted her to keep a secret and held out his pinky to her, that was all the reason Kagome needed, and nothing pleased her more than making her papa proud. And, when he and her uncle were fatally wounded in a demon attack on their village, even though Naraku’s name had never once yet been muttered near her ears, he still made her do one final pinky promise to him saying, “Protect yourself for me, my little bird. Keep it in its cage. I love you so much, Kagome.”

She wasn’t even a teenager when that had happened. There was a part of her that wondered here and there if he was secretly clairvoyant, or if he merely studied the patterns throughout history of people of her kind and wanted nothing more than to keep her safe and make her life as easy as possible, given the reputation they had, their ever-changing titles, and the ignorance others had of their nature. If only he knew where she was now. Would he still ask his little bird to stay in the cage while the door was wide open?

“Ready. You?” Sango returned, standing straight and allowing the little girl to cling to her leg.

“Ready.” Kagome breathed.

Those not lined up hesitantly backed away, creating space and growing agonizingly silent as they seemingly held their breaths for those that were chosen. Kagome hated when they did that. It was like she could physically feel the onlookers’ anxiety, and it was the last thing she needed on top of that of those actually subjected and her own.

The four men walked back and forth, up and down the two rows of girls, criminal eyes taunting them with silent threats and menacing grins. It was creepy, but no longer was it fear-inducing. Kagome had a bad habit of not shying away anymore. Sure, she was nervous beyond belief, but the last thing she was afraid of were their snarls, scarred and dirty flesh, and crooked teeth. That, of all things, was the least intimidating factor for those who were calloused to the routine.

But, when an abrupt instruction was given by the leader, her already-loose expectations of “routine” fell apart completely.

“Hold out your left hands, palms up!”

Confusion soared through every individual, and Kagome met Sango’s brief side glance, minutely comforted by the fact that she wasn’t the only one without a clue as to what was going on. Questions weren’t allowed though, and even the little ones were well aware of that, so as the small group of men demanded everyone shut up and do it, all outward bafflement dissipated.

Slowly, Kagome raised her left palm, her arm outstretched, swallowing as she willed the slight trembling to cease. Brown eyes searched quickly as she waited for whatever to begin, weeding through the crowd and finding Miroku already pinning her with a stare. It was wary, but hard, his jaw visibly tense.

The sound of an unsheathing blade was unmistakable, and immediately Kagome’s attention bounced to her left where the leader danced the grip of a knife in his fingers, his lips curved downward into a permanent frown. The first girl in line couldn’t have been any older than fifteen, noticeably shaking as her anxious stare bounced from the man to the blade.

A man in the crowd began shouting, stirring, pushing forward through the heap of villagers to reach the forefront, “Hey! No! What are you going to do!? That’s my daughter; what are you going to do!? Don’t you dare touch -“ Abruptly silenced by a defensive elbow to the diaphragm, gifted by an all-too-fast demon.

The young teenager shuddered, not sure what to worry about first as the leader gave her no moment to react, grabbed her hand, extended it further, and gave a small slice with the tip of his knife to the center of her palm. She winced, a whimper easily escaping her mouth from the sharp pain, tears leaking from her eyes quicker than the blood that seeped from her laceration. And then he grabbed her hand in his, sealing their palms together as he stared her in the eyes for a moment. She was utterly terrified, wanting to pull away while knowing she shouldn’t, but as nothing else happened, the man released her, murmuring to stay in line as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his blade, his hand, then moved onto the next.

Kagome’s attention snapped back to Miroku as it dawned on her, his eyes holding the same idea as he gave a steady but stern shake of his head in retort. They were looking for the untrained conjurers. The conjurers who weren’t skilled in holding back. Everyone was already scared, and the wound inflicted a heightened sense of fight-or-flight. Then their hands gripping the victims’ - their demon hands against the victims’… they were working to spark a purification reaction, and they were going about it right this time. It wouldn’t be strong enough to kill them, nothing that small or unsuspecting would be, but it would hurt - much like the notorious fairytale of a vampire taking a quick step into the sunlight before swiftly turning around and heading back inside. And, that was all they needed.

Unbeknownst to everyone but Sango and Miroku, Kagome wasn’t completely helpless. Not only was she well-versed in subduing her powers, but alternatively speaking, she could knock a guy completely on his ass. She’d practiced. She’d practiced for hours at a time for several years now to see what she could do, what sort of strength she possessed, all on the far outskirts of the village, hiding near caves with only her friend and cousin who'd agreed, despite promises and secrets, that they all should try to be prepared for anything. By no means was she an expert, but she could handle her own for the most part and a situation like this was something she’d been well-conditioned for, for quite some time now.

Especially since she’d first received that message in a dream.

The responsibility is ours.

Whatever it meant, no matter how bleak it felt, it was a no-brainer that Kagome couldn’t go on without some sort of knowledge of her own potential.

She took a shallow breath, diverting her gaze to the goon before her as he happily took out his own blade, the other two following suit as they set out to narrow the time this was going to take. He stepped forward, grasping the wrist of the frightened and resistant girl beside Sango, who Sango had to hush into calming, telling her it would be done quickly. When nothing gratifying came from the occurrence, the man moved on to Sango, pinning her with a glare that she challenged right back. She hardly flinched at the slice of her skin, brown eyes never leaving the demonic ones of her assailant. When she shrugged a brow as he clasped their hands together, Kagome could practically see the heat rising in the man’s body language, quickly fuming from how audacious Sango was acting - which Kagome couldn’t help but respect, not knowing if the chuckle she forcefully swallowed was one of matched humor or nervousness.

The man threw Sango’s hand to the side, merely wiping her blood from his palm and blade on his pants before vehemently grabbing Kagome’s and extending her arm completely, bringing an inadvertent gasp to escape her throat. As the tip of his knife pierced her palm, dragging slowly to create a burning gash - one larger than Sango’s, so she suspected her nonchalant pass of amusement wasn’t as admissible as she’d thought - Kagome couldn’t stop the hiss that slid off her tongue, her brows creasing and jaw dropping as crimson dripped from her hand to the mud. With a clap, he pressed his palm to hers, fingers squeezing her small hand with unmitigated pressure. She felt a flurry in her abdomen, her diaphragm, her chest, warmth that drove her power, and that was her cue to hold her breath, to pretend everything was fine, to tell herself she was safe and trick her mind when she really wasn’t. She pretended she was holding Sota’s hand - the first person that came to mind, and the least intimidating one that she knew. Sota as an adult whose hand was finally bigger than hers. She couldn’t help but feel this was a huge insult to her younger brother, so she subconsciously apologized as she continued her visualization. It was like a lump built in her throat, the kind that grew too difficult to swallow, but she also felt completely in control, returning the man’s stare before he dropped her hand and moved onto the girl beside her.

“Shh,” Sango gently hushed the small child. “Everything’s fine now, but you have to stay quiet. Give me your hand.”

Kagome slowly let out her captive breath, the air she sucked in to replace it cold and not the least bit comforting despite the danger she’d evaded. She kept her palm face up but closer to her heart, cradling it for a moment as she tried to ignore the searing pain, diverting her attention to Sango and the kid. Her best friend was already looking up at her, using the long sleeve of her shirt to clean the blood from the girl’s hand and apply pressure so it’d stop bleeding, never minding the bleeding of her own palm. Thankfully, it only looked to be a little knick, and Kagome wondered if the creep of a demon that had handled them secretly had a soft spot for children.

“You okay?” Sango silently mouthed to Kagome. She nodded in reply, picking up the bottom hem of her own shirt and pressing it to her wound.

A sudden, deep, and broken yell punched through the air as one of the demons stumbled away, his hand yanked back, fingers furled in offense, and face twisted in rage. A little girl shrieked as he lunged forward, grabbing her by the collar of her cloak and pulling her out of the line, her feet stumbling to keep up as she cried apology after apology.

No. Conjurers weren’t common; now more than ever. How could there be two in one village? Especially one as small as theirs? How could there be more than one not even miles apart? How did Kagome not know? Didn’t conjurers have the ability to sense one another? She’d only assumed that was the case because of the seemingly-prophetic dreams she’d been having; because of the woman that had been coming to her in those very dreams. It was a weak hypothesis to go off of, but it was the only answer that made sense to Kagome. But, now there was a child being dragged into the center of where the town congregated, begging and pleading for her life while her mother screamed from the sidelines where she was being held at bay, and Kagome was none the wiser to her existence.

She wanted to yell that they were wrong, but how could they have been? It was a physical test. The accidental reaction of her powers was a dead giveaway. They couldn’t even lie their way out of this, or pretend the allegation was false. She was a conjurer. And they were about to kill her.

Kagome’s heart twisted and bunched painfully, that hard lump once more building in her throat, a murmured, “no,” barely leaving her parted lips, and her brown eyes caught a pleased grin on the approaching leader’s face that, just moments ago, seemed stuck in a scowl. He twirled his dagger in his fingers before kneeling down in front of the weeping girl.

“Found you.” He snickered, plunging the blade into her abdomen.

“No!” Kagome gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth in shock. The village was alight with terror, screams, cries, the rumble of defeat, the wailing of a grieving mother striking over all other sounds. Still, she was withheld from her little girl, reaching for her over the shoulder of the unforgiving demon who kept her away.

The knife was yanked free of the girl’s gut and she fell to her knees, her hands braced before her stomach as crimson crawled out, staining the front of her rain-soaked dress. Small hands weakly pressed into her abdomen, the wide look of horror, of pain, of fear etched into every inch of her expression as she gasped tremblingly. All too easily, the leader stood and walked away, not an ounce of remorse displayed.

“She was… she was just a kid.” A sympathetic village man stated morosely. “She wasn’t even ten yet.”

“She wasn’t dangerous!” Another testified.

“Would you like to be next?” A demon threatened, thinking his raised voice would retain order.

Kagome could hardly breathe, tears burning and brimming at her lower lid. All she could think to do was try to stop the bleeding, try to save the child, her feet moving on their own accord as she rushed out of line. Beyond the anger building in the crowd, the yelling growing louder, and the intense disturbance increasing rapidly and overwhelmingly, Kagome heard her name called multiple times. But, she couldn’t bring herself to listen, to stop, as she skidded to her knees in the mud, her arms catching the little girl as she fell forward. Her mother was finally freed, racing over and falling to the ground at her child’s side, helping through her weeping to lay her on her back.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here.” She soothed as best as she could, hovering over her daughter's face so the rain wouldn’t hit it, shaking fingers pushing sopping hair from her cheeks.

Kagome grabbed the length from the girl’s cloak that stuck out on her side, bunching it and pressing firmly into the wound. The choked gasp that came from the kid was agonizing, and Kagome apologized profusely, blinking away her own tears as she whipped her head around to take in the rousing group of people, fury evident in their tones, in their bodies, as they returned threats with the offending demons.

“Where’s the doctor!?” Kagome asked as loudly as she could, her soaked, dark hair whipping her in the face as she spun her head around to try and find their town's self-proclaimed physician. “Help! We need help!”

“He isn’t here; he left for herbs yesterday.” Sango informed as she dropped down beside Kagome.

“And he still isn’t back!?”

“The storm must have delayed him.” Sango shook her head in response, her brows creased together as she glanced over her shoulder to quickly mind the budding commotion before turning her worried expression back toward the crying child. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“I don’t - I don’t know.” Kagome stammered, her breathing growing heavier as she panicked, noticing the blood was barely halting, the stain in the girl’s dress expanding and absorbing through the cloth she pressed against the wound.

“Apply pressure!” Miroku instructed when he slid to his knees in the mud on their opposite side, careful of the girl’s mother.

“I am!” Kagome cried.

“Stay with me, baby! Stay with me! I’m right here, look at me!” The woman coo’d, sniffling and gasping with her tremors while the comforting smile never left her lips.

“Hey! Leave her! Let her die, or we’ll kill you too!” One of the vile men demanded, though his shouts went ignored, easily drowned out by the encroaching, enraged men who finally appeared fueled enough to physically challenge them. Kagome could only hope they’d hold the demons back so they’d have the chance to save her.

“Here, let me see!” Miroku pushed Kagome’s shaking hands away, pulling aside the cloth of the cloak to take a peek at the wound in her stomach. Kagome had to look away then, the sight of the thick blood seeping through too much to handle. Instead, she focused her attention on the little girl, crawling up to hold her cold, bleeding hand.

Scared, pained, blue eyes focused on Kagome as she took shuddering breaths, her chest convulsing slightly as her small voice broke with her cries. Little fingers softly gripped her hand in return, and the tiniest of smiles curved her lips upward, light beginning to dim from her irises.

“Miroku!” Kagome urged. She glanced back at him and noticed the hopeless expression on his face. One that claimed there was nothing anyone could do. Her heart dropped, a nauseating weight filling her stomach. Quickly, she turned back to the little girl, leaning an inch closer. “Kikyo and the other conjurers, they’re gonna win, okay? We’re gonna win. I promise.”

“Who’s…”

“You! What did you just say!?” Heavy steps sloshed in the mud toward them, his voice low, growling, dangerous.

Kagome had spoken up to be sure the girl had heard her over the yelling, but she hadn’t realized that it could have been heard by anyone else. She didn’t think about the ramifications. She didn’t think. She’d just wanted to fill the child with some form of final hope. What was wrong with that? Was it the fact that she’d said Naraku would fall?

She’d hardly had enough time to turn and react before she was grabbed by the hair and lifted to her feet, yelping as she was dragged back and away.

“You mentioned Kikyo!” He exclaimed, giving a forceful yank as Kagome loudly gasped from her constant stumbling, the pain on her scalp, the fear racing through her. In the thick of it, she’d forgotten Kikyo wasn’t a person who was widely known. She’d forgotten Kikyo was a secret beacon of hope to the surviving conjurers, who appeared in dreams and spoke in riddles.

“No!” Was all she could manage to reply, screamed brokenly, heard clearly throughout the number of villagers around as the action died down and all attention was on them.

“How do you know her!?”

She yelped again, forcefully pulled backward and released to only trip and fall over some tools.

“Tell me, wench!” He demanded, picking Kagome up by her throat and slamming her back against the wall of a home.

“I don’t!” She adamantly swore, still able to speak. His grip was there, but not choking.

“Liar!” He said, slapping her hard across the face. “How do you know Kikyo!?”

“I heard of her in passing!” Kagome cried, wincing from the sting before she was forced to look at him again.

“I find that hard to believe.” He growled, inching closer to her face. His hold on her throat tightened, cutting off air, thick fingers pinching painfully into the sides of her neck. “Where is she?”

“I - I don’t know.” She sputtered, wheezed, her tears hot as they glided down her face. The rain was nothing but a drizzle now, though the distant sound of thunder roared angrily. She was both cold and hot, her lungs begging for air as his hand pushed further against her windpipe.

“Stop it! Let her go!” Miroku barked, and his presence was just enough to distract Naraku’s henchman and cause him to release some tension from her throat. Kagome greedily sucked in as much air as she could, though he still constricted his fingers against her. It was like breathing through a straw.

Her cousin stood there, dark hair sticking to his temples, bloodied hands braced before him as if to reason. “She doesn’t know anything; she just told you!”

“Oh, another tough guy?” A demon behind him chuckled. “A little scrawny for that, don’t you think?”

“You have me wrong, I don’t want to fight. Release my cousin, and we’ll back away peacefully. She meant no harm.”

“The harm was done when she stepped out of place to save the girl!”

“She was a child!”

“She’s a conjurer! She has no place in this world!”

“She did! She did have a place in this world, and we all know it!”

“You best shut the fuck up, boy.” The leader said from the sidelines. “Word may carry that you’re on their side. Now, you wouldn’t want that. Would you?”

“Tell him to let go of her.” Miroku sternly ordered.

“Back off.”

“Let her go!”

“Suit yourself. Have some fun.” Their leader flicked a finger at the two other demons, allowing them to do as they pleased.

Miroku hissed a low, “Fuck,” before dodging a hit from one of the two demons enclosing in on him. He was able to throw one of his own, nailing an ugly bastard in the face before he was grabbed from behind, bulky arms wrapping under and over his shoulders to hold him in place. The other demon was eager while he arrogantly approached in front of him, smiling as he punched Miroku in the stomach.

“Stop! Miroku!” Kagome squirmed against her own offender’s grasp, her instincts beginning to kick in as she felt a wild sensation build in her veins. Something righteous whispered the power she held in her ear, told her to use her abilities to save her cousin, further fueling the heat that made her forget about the nip in the air.

“Kagome, don’t!” Miroku coughed, pinning her with his indigo gaze before his eyes pinched shut from a swift hit to his diaphragm, blood dribbling over his bottom lip and down his chin.

Control sucked Kagome back to the present, the earnest crackle of Miroku’s voice ringing in her ears and overpowering the one that told her to fight. The grip against her throat tightened again, closing off her air passage as red eyes turned back to her, the lines of his frown deep.

“Don’t, what?”

Kagome wasn’t sure if he actually expected an answer or not, but he’d made it physically impossible. She clawed her nails along the thick skin of his large hand, trying to pry him away so she could breathe. It was dire that she didn’t use her powers; she understood this. But, as the adrenaline raced violently through her body, it was growing increasingly harder to keep it subdued. She’d be killed in a heartbeat; she’d already witnessed their unforgiving lack of hesitation. Her mother and younger brother would have to watch. Her cousin, too. She’d promised everyone she would protect herself, and she'd promised herself that she would protect them. Above all that, a different, deeper, more rational voice spoke to her, drowning out the one that told her to take action just a moment ago, telling her that her fight was meant for somewhere else. Something bigger. She could practically feel the breath hitting her ear, urging her of the importance. It told her to swallow it, hold it at bay, keep it buried no matter how badly it burned for release at the underside of her flesh. Keep it in its cage.

Finally, the demon released his tight hold on her neck, opting to firmly grip the front of her shirt. His upper lip twitched in disdain while Kagome sputtered, and coughed, and gasped for air to fill her lungs.

“Don’t, what?” Naraku’s henchman repeated, this time a little lighter, and it was impossible to miss that he was visibly analyzing for any sort of body language that could tip him off.

“Fight.” Kagome attempted to say, though her voice came out incredibly raspy and broken.

“Like I’d be worried about what a girl as small as you could possibly do to me. Unless,” He cocked a brow. “I’d have a reason to worry. Unless, you’re a conjurer.”

She shook her head, scared to look away from him, hyperaware of any movement she made in that moment. She was absolutely terrified of letting him know she was lying, but what if her stiffness was what told him the truth? What if the vehemence behind her objection was exactly what he needed to convict her? Where was the happy medium? Was there one? Kagome’s bottom lip quivered, resisting the impulse to glance Miroku’s way when he continuously coughed, the sound slightly gurgled, scared the shift in her eyes would be mistaken for something else.

“How else would you know who Kikyo is?”

“I - I h-heard of her in p-passing.” Kagome said, still unable to use her voice, and she wondered if the strangulation was enough to damage her vocal cords or if her anxiety was the cause of it. “I-In a nearby town. By - by the r-river.”

The demon yanked her forward and slammed her back against the wall, the back of her head smacking the wood painfully. “Are you a fucking conjurer, wench!?”

“No!” Kagome wheezed, releasing her own hold on his fist to emphatically present the blunt cut on her palm to him before she repeatedly smacked it against his forearm, smearing hers and the little girl’s blood, showing him the exact reaction - or lack thereof - they were looking for in coming today in the first place.

“Let - let her go.” Miroku was on his knees, breathing impaired, holding his side with one hand while the other braced his weight in the mud. “She’s not a conjurer. She’s not. She can hardly even hunt. I have to take her everywhere. There’s no way anyone that knows her would believe she’s one of them.”

“Being a conjurer doesn’t have anything to do with hunting, boy!” One of them spit.

“Well, how the hell would anyone know!?” Sango shouted from the side, still seated on her knees beside the child. Her cheeks were flushed furiously, and her hands were held out inches from her chest, palms up, covered in blood that she was afraid would never wash off. Their attempts were in vain and the mother wept, clinging to her little girl, her face buried in her daughter’s still chest. “Conjurers are practically going extinct; you’re all winning! We don’t know what they can do! They probably don’t know what they can do! Conjurers either have to hide to save their lives, or they don’t even know they are one yet!”

For a brief second, Kagome allowed herself to glance beyond Sango’s head, finding her family. Her mother’s hands were cupped in front of her mouth, trembling as she never removed her eyes from her daughter. Her brow was creased deeply, concern etched so thick you’d think an artist may have been too heavy with their pen. Kagome couldn’t tell if her mom was breathing slowly, or if she was holding her breath. She couldn’t tell if her mom was saying a silent prayer, or if words could barely form in her mind as she had no choice but to watch the scene unfold. Her mother had to witness a daughter torn away from another; a daughter who held the same, supernatural fate as her own. Kagome could only imagine the stress that currently laced her mom’s system.

Before her stood both her brother and Sango’s, Sota bearing a wide expression, neck tense and lips parted uncertainly, and Kohaku wearing a more cautious grimace, watching apprehensively. Knowing her onlookers were nervous, worried, should have been the very thing to cause Kagome to proceed carefully, but instead it served as the switch that flicked on in her head. She was tired of living like this, done with the dreadful thought that this was their normal. This wasn’t going to continue.

She’d been waiting for a sign, waiting for her cue. Bags were packed and weapons were stored in a hiding place where they’d been training outside of the village. Miroku, Sango, and she had discussed a while ago that they were going to eventually leave together and find the called-upon conjurers, and join Kikyo to fight against Naraku. It was their - the conjurers’ - responsibility. As much as she wanted to know why, pleaded with the apparition of this seemingly all-powerful conjurer time and time again for an answer, at this point it was no longer deemed necessary. Not anymore. Kagome figured she’d hear this magical invitation telling her when and where - which was farfetched but a fair assumption given she barely had anything to go off of. She even thought she might have to wait a while longer until she was stronger, more trained in her capabilities, before Kikyo gave her some form of clear signal instead of these ominous, detail-lacking prophecies in her subconscience that she was currently getting every other night. But now a tick in her core, an itch in her chest, a steady deepening in her resolve told her the time was now. Screw waiting, screw messages, screw rolling over, screw self-pity, and screw Naraku. If he wanted a fight, if this was his initiation all along, his declaration of war, then he was finally going to get one.

“If that’s the case, bitch, then what were you telling the girl?” The demon holding her collar jerked her slightly to demand her attention, receiving it with vexation.

“I,” Kagome took as stable a breath as she could, her throat aching and voice pathetically weak, clearly evident now that it was due to the ruthless strangling she’d received. “I told her Kikyo would kill Naraku.”

“And, why the fuck would you say that?” He asked, almost surprised at her bold statement.

“I wanted her to go with hope, not fear.”

He guffawed, his chest pumping. “You don’t actually believe that!”

Without hesitation, as straight as she could manage while she halted his laughter, Kagome replied, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

His smile faded quickly, humor replaced with anger as his fists bunched tighter and he heatedly pulled Kagome away from the wall and threw her to the floor. Kagome landed on her front, quickly pressing herself to her hands and knees just before he pushed her belly down, her wrists sliding and giving out so the side of her face planted in the mud.

“Kagome -“ Her cousin called, stumblingly crawling her way before another demon kicked him in the side he’d been clutching, a tiny crunch being heard just as Miroku choked in pain.

“Miroku, stop! I’m fine!” She attempted to say clearly, a foot braced on her back.

“Enough.” The leader stated. “Everyone back in line. We haven’t finished yet.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” A man asked disbelievingly. “You don’t think you’ve done enough damage already!? Get the fuck out!”

“Yeah, get out of here!” Other villagers began to call out, joining in. “You aren’t welcome here! You’re only taking advantage because our demon slayers are gone!”

“You think that matters?” The leader chuckled. “Go ahead. Revolt. Fight back. Make us leave. See how quickly your entire village will be wasted the next time around. You see four of us and think you stand a chance. You see a large group of us and think you’re safe because you’ve got a little pack of demon slayers protecting you. Funny, that’s never stopped our inspections before, so I don’t see why you think that’d stop us now. Either way, not a single one of you would be left alive if we brought a fraction of the wild demons under Naraku’s control, and he wouldn’t bat an eye if we borrowed them to kill you all. In fact, that’s already in the plan if we don’t check in. You kill us all, congratulations, but you’ll be worse off. Compared to him, we’re the most compassionate monsters you’ll ever meet, and I suggest you learn to appreciate that. Now, get your girls back in line.”

“It’s okay, papa.” An older girl spoke. Kagome couldn’t see from where she lay, but she recognized the seventeen year-old’s voice. Ayumi. She was soft-spoken normally, but also fairly brave and kind. The only child of a widowed father, and a girl, like the rest of them, forced to grow up too soon.

Ayumi walked forward, having backed away from the rowdiness with the majority of the girls who hadn’t run back to the safety of their parents. Notching her chin upward, she raised her left palm, “Let them finish. They won’t seem so big forever.”

“Bold girl.” The demon complimented.

“Yeah. The more I find myself hoping the conjurers win, the bolder I feel.”

“Careful, now. You’ll wind up getting yourself killed.”

“Looks like being female might just get me killed, anyway. So, I might as well go down confident that Naraku is the true evil here, and evil never wins.”

“What a disgusting cliche.” He groaned. “Grow a brain and come up with something original before you spew that sort of shit. It’s embarrassing. Look, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but as the chick over there stated, we already are. We’re winning. Now, I won’t argue that we’re the bad guys here, but at this point in time, that doesn’t really matter.”

Ayumi swallowed thickly, eyes faltering downward for the smallest moment before she rose them to meet the red eyes of Naraku’s henchman. As sickeningly as that notion sat in her esophagus, Ayumi felt it would be worse if she’d sunken her shoulders at the validity of their power. By no means was she strong, and by no means was she actually all that courageous. Ayumi, true to heart, was a daydreamer, was a fantasy-enthusiast, was a soft, sweet, and hopeful wisher, was tired, was passive. So, while she could admit her stare wasn’t striking, her irises would never be vivid with the passionate heroism she dreamed about, her lips would never curve with a compelling and threatening snarl, she could also admit that just the act of matching his gaze was all she needed to do to defy defeat. With chapped lips parting, not a waver traveling over her tongue, she spoke. “Yes, it does.”

“Yes, it does.” Another girl agreed, approaching to stand beside Ayumi.

“The world hasn’t always been this way. Naraku only grew large less than five years ago.” A woman said, a mother, holding her fearful daughter in her arms. Several more girls got back in line, their shoulders a little more broadened than before. “I find it appalling how arrogant you all have gotten in such a short time. I assure you, conjurer, demon, human, or anything in between, I’d give them my trust sooner than I’d yield to the idea of life staying like this. Good and evil, the difference will always matter. So, yes. Yes, it does.”

“Inspirational.” One of Naraku’s demons remarked sarcastically, cringing.

“Hey, whatever blows your skirt up, lady.” The leader shrugged. “You can believe whatever you want. No sweat off my back. Funny enough, I’d put down all the money in my pockets right now to bet not a single one of them would return that trust, nor would they risk their lives to save you. I mean, not to play devil’s advocate or anything, but look at the twisted circumstances. What the fuck have you done to help them? Human’s are selfish; only looking out for themselves. You hate us showing up because you don’t want us to hurt you. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with us hunting down conjurers, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with that little girl on the ground over there. If it did, you would have never watched it happen. If it did and it was just the ‘shock factor’ holding you back, you still would have done a little more than yell at us about how unfair it was. Oh, cry me a fucking river.” He grinned, stepping over to the first girl in the newly-formed line. There were less than half left that hadn’t been tested, and he got straight to work, unforgivingly slashing at the pre-teen’s palm and slapping his own to hers as he continued his heartless speech. “Even better, there’s two of your own on the floor, both of them getting quite the beating, and not a single fucking one of you did a damn thing to help. I understand the lad; that’s his - er - sister? Cousin? And, I mean, at least the chick tried to help the conjurer survive. I’ll give them kudos, but I think I speak for all of us non-humans when I say fuck the rest of you egotistical pricks. Oh no, my child might have a scar on her hand. Oh no, more trauma.” The leader mocked, his tone high and whiney. “Yeah, well, at least they’re not dead in the mud like little Suzie over there.”

There was a collective gasp from the audience at the harsh and morbid insensitivity. Still, no one challenged him. Someone should have, and no one said a thing.

Kagome tasted bile on the back of her tongue from the disgusting sentiments plaguing the thick, electric air. How cruel. She wanted to open her mouth and beg him to stop and just finish his job already, force her broken voice out to demolish his train of thought and hope he doesn’t mention the death for the remainder of his stay. The only thing stopping her was Miroku’s steady stare on her. It held more power than an order from his mouth to stay quiet ever could. With a foot on her back as a warning for more damage, the impending threat that he would easily be hurt again, and the fact that she’d said enough as it was, no matter how bold she felt in the face of this evil, she knew she was meant to face the source. She could only do that alive. So, begrudgingly, she obliged to his logical demand.

If they wanted them to finish, they needed to stop fighting. They needed to shut up. A double-edged sword. Like bowing their heads to the abuse. Enabling it. Allowing it so it ends quicker.

Kagome could feel her palms burning in the mud, a sense of humiliating defeat flooding her chest, making her feel sick to her stomach. She kept her eyes on Miroku, he kept his eyes on her. She tried to raise the volume of her thoughts, no matter how negative they were, to tune out the gasps and muffled cries of the young girls as they received the cut to their palms for testing.

How could she hold any form of power, yet still feel so powerless? How could she have the privilege of a voice, but feel so irrevocably silenced? She wanted to believe she could save everyone there if she just untied the knots concealing her abilities, but it physically pained her to understand that it was the wrong thing to do. It would be counterintuitive. It would wind up getting them all killed later. She could fight, but she also couldn’t.

“And, there you have it.” The leader finished by wiping his knife clean and slipping it back into the little holster on his hip, the hint of pride and sarcasm on his tongue. “Thank you so much for your cooperation and understanding. We’ll be seeing you.”

The demon holding Kagome down applied a small kick of pressure as he lifted off of her, chuckling as his dirty boots stuck in the mud with each step away.

There was an eerie silence, one that grew more deafening as the henchmen took their horses and disappeared from the village. It was heavy, thick, like sludge. Weighted with failure and death. Even the cries from the mother were muted. For a moment, Kagome thought that instead of drowning out the pained noises with her own thoughts, her brain had responded late to her distress by completely disabling her sense of hearing instead. But, she could hear the stickiness of the mud as she peeled herself from the ground to sit on her knees. She could hear feet slowly walking - most likely children rejoining their families. She could hear the thunder threatening them of the next onslaught of rain to come. The silence that captivated them was one that couldn’t be lifted with a simple, “Thank god that’s over.” No one could make it dissipate by asking if everyone was okay. Because, it didn’t matter.

And, that was something everyone, even the young, could recognize.

The small talk that would eventually come when everyone was back in their homes, the whispers, the crying, and maybe even tiny chuckles from people trying to find the little joys to get them through this, they would all be irrelevant. Because, outside there would be a blanket of despair thicker than the friction-inducing clouds hanging over them at this very moment, and it promised them there that it would stick around as long as it needed to.

“Hey,” A soft voice spoke in Kagome’s ear, a gentle, cold hand brushing her arm, and it was only when she gasped and jerked upright that she realized she’d been hanging her head, sights stuck on her hands on her thighs. “Sh, sh. It’s just me.” Her mother reassured, kneeling beside her and using her sleeve to try and wipe her face clean of some clumpy mud. “Are you alright, honey?”

Out of sheer reaction, she gave a meager nod.

“Look at me, Kagome. Look at me. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” Kagome said as convincingly as possible. When Miroku groaned, catching her mother’s attention and even her own, she was happy to have the focus off of her. Kohaku and Sango were beside him, trying to sit him up, freezing as he struggled.

“Come on, boy. Let’s get you home.” A couple, larger village men came over, better suited to help. One of them firmly clasped his hand in Miroku’s, quickly pulling him up to his feet so the pain wouldn’t be dragged out. Her cousin hissed at the shock, clenching his throat to try and swallow his grumble, and the two men supported him by pulling his arms over their shoulders.

“Can you stand?” Kagome’s mother asked.

“Yeah.” She whispered, not wanting to irritate her throat further and finding no real need to speak up right now. “I’m fine, mama. Don’t worry about me. Miroku needs your attention more.”

“Even if that were true, he’s kind of surrounded. I don’t think I’m needed there, love.” She replied, grabbing her by her elbow to support her as they stood together. “Sota, take her other side, please. Just in case.”

“Wait.” A broken voice called to them, trembling but by no means weak.

They all stopped just two steps in, looking over to the mother on the ground. Her daughter’s body, from head to toe, was covered by a long cloak belonging to one of the villagers beside her now, attempting to give comfort.

“Kikyo? Is that what you’d said? Kikyo?” She asked Kagome.

As clearly as she could, with a little nod of her head as she processed the question, Kagome said, “Yes.”

“Who is that?”

Kagome could feel the tension in her brow falter as the sympathetic, concerned curve in them wilted away to change more into dubiousness. “You - you don’t…” She didn’t know who Kikyo was. Even her own mother knew who Kikyo was. Her mom was the first to hear about her dreams before she started discussing them with the rest of her family. Had her daughter not had the same messages coming to her? Or, was she so confused, so distraught from them all, that she chose secrecy over being seen as insane?

“She’s a conjurer.” Kagome answered.

“Is she - is she a strong conjurer?”

“I think so.”

“I’m sorry, did your daughter never mention anything about Kikyo?” Sango carefully asked.

“N-no. Why would she?”

“We were just under the impression that she may have been sending survivors telepathic signals of sorts.” She said.

“That’s preposterous.” A man scoffed.

“Maybe. We heard it in passing. From an old man, no less.” Miroku said, discomfort laced in his tone.

“What - what could she possibly have had to say to a little girl?” The mother asked, her bottom lip quivering while her hand rested on her daughter’s chest.

“I’m sorry. I wish I knew.” The words were painful to speak. Not from her throat, but from the fact that she had to lie to a woman who’d had her everything stolen from her. A woman who, more than anyone, deserved the truth.

When she’d said what she’d said about Kikyo before, the little girl had muttered something in return before the demon tore Kagome away. It seemed like she was about to ask who Kikyo was. Kagome was sure now that the kid didn’t know. She hadn’t had the dreams, the premonitions, the one-sided conversations, nothing. She hadn’t had any communication with Kikyo, whatsoever. Maybe Kikyo was kind to exclude the young, and only spoke to the older, potentially more conditioned conjurers.

Or, maybe there was a possibility that Kagome was the only one.

And, it terrified her.

“Will she win? Kikyo? Will she defeat Naraku?” The crying mother asked.

Kagome was finding it hard to reply, to communicate. Her throat was tightening up as she watched the woman’s body begin to crumble once more toward her little girl’s; like she needed to be connected with her to prevent her from going cold. She could feel her eyes stinging, tears brimming, her fingers quaking and legs growing weak. Her cheeks felt hot and her chest wouldn’t allow a full breath of air - only unsteady, unmatched, quick puffs that burned. A hot hand slid into her right, her brother’s fingers tightening their grip, but she couldn’t control her body enough to grab it back.

“I refuse to believe otherwise.” Sango answered confidently.

The mother now sobbed, nodding in acknowledgment as she weeped over the covered body of her daughter. “Thank you.”

Kagome wanted to apologize profusely. For failing to protect her. For failing to try to protect her. For her loss. For the chance she was never given to learn to defend herself. For the silence she had to keep. The guilt was so heavy on her shoulders, she was ready to give in in front of them all, but the hand in hers pulled her back, made her move.

More villagers were moving toward the mother and child to help comfort while they removed the body, and that was the prime opportunity to get Kagome out of there. Sota could tell from the moment it started that she was going to break down, maybe even panic. He knew his sister, he knew the signs, he understood the stress she was under, and he wanted nothing more than to get her away and help her as best as he could. So, he disregarded everyone else and began pulling Kagome ahead. Miroku would have to move at a slower pace, Sango and Kohaku would stick by him and the men that helped, and he figured their mom would respect that they needed a moment of peace where they weren’t under more eyes than necessary.

Sota ignored the broken utterances of his name that came from his sister, he ignored the threatening weather, and he ignored anything that could potentially get in his way. He directed Kagome around their house, to the back, and toward the tree line of the woods. Three trees in past the shrubbery bush, on the opposite side of the trunk, Sota found the rope ladder to the treehouse their dad had built them hanging. Holding it steady, he released Kagome’s hand.

“Come on. Climb.”

-> | next chapter |

60 notes · View notes

keontum · 3 years

Text

You’re into that too!?

Ship: Hwanwoong x Keonhee !

Rating: M (smut)

Contents: smut. belly kink !! stuffing, belly noises, gas.

[ hi! this is my first post! im sorry if it’s not too good, but hopefully i’ll get better... enjoy!]

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Dear lord.. Coming over for a pizza dinner night was a BAD idea... Hwanwoong thought, relaxing back into the sofa, bringing a fist to his mouth to stifle out a quiet burp. He and Keonhee haven’t hung out together in awhile, and when pizza was mentioned Hwanwoong just couldn’t refuse the offer. The boys have spent the last 2 hours, scarfing down two large pizzas and shared liter of coke. Keonhee has always been a big eater, but not Hwanwoong, so it wasn’t surprising to see the look of discomfort twisted on his face as he placed a hand over his taught belly, using his fingers to prod an massaging the quietly bubbling mass. Keonhee seemed totally unfazed by the bloat in his belly, even acted as if he could take another few more slices. Standing 5’11, tall, thin and lanky, it wasn’t hard to notice the dome under his tight shirt as he made his way back into the living room to meet his best friend. No body knew this, but Hwanwoong had a huge thing for bellies, especially stuffed ones. The sight of his own bloated stomach was enough to cause the tips of his ears to heat up, but the moment he laid eyes on the scrawny boy, his midsection swollen to the max, hwanwoong felt his whole face turn red. “Mmh, that was great.” Keonhee spoke, flopping down onto the couch to sit with Hwanwoong, the mixture of undigested pizza and bubbly soda audibly sloshing against his stomach wall, causing him to groan and let out a deep, rumbling belch. “Fuck. That felt good.. Y’a finished, too, woong?” The lanky boy asked, turning his head to look over at the much smaller boy besides him. In pure bliss at the burp he just heard, hwanwoong didn’t respond, instead his eyes fixated on Keonhees belly that was now slightly exposed just above his bellybutton. The burp stirred everything up in his gut, the sounds of soft rumbles now emitting from the swollen mound, which only made Hwanwoong blush ever deeper.

Keonhee raised an eyebrow, shifting his attention to his stomach, wondering if the other boy was grossed out by the sight. “Oh-.. Sorry.. I’m such a slob—“ He chuckled, pulling his tee down to cover his stomach. “NO!” Hwanwoong blurted out, freezing as he realize how weird he just sounded. “Y-youre fine- Not a slob at all! It was just cute, that’s all!” Keonhee blinked at the boys words, nodding his head a little. “Oh- Thank god. I was worried i was grossing you out— Would it be okay if i unbuttoned my jeans? It digging into my stomach.” Keonhee asked, not wanting to put any wrong ideas into Hwanwoongs head. The smaller boy nodded his head frantically, watching as Keonhee popped the button to his jeans and released the swollen belly. A deep rumble of relief shook through his belly, his hand rubbing over the gurgly tummy. “Oh, yeah.. so much better.” Hwanwoong sat besides his best friend, the arousal becoming more and more noticeable with his cock stiffening in his shorts. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, adverting his gaze from Keonhee’s stomach, trying to act normal. Little did Hwanwoong know that Keonhee’s eyes were glued to him, watching every little movement and dart of Hwanwoong’s eyes. He was turned on.. by his stomach? Interesting. It looks like they had something else in common. Yes. Keonhee, too, had a thing for bellies, and he was shocked to see Hwanwoong did too. How does he approach this without freaking him out? Just then, something shifted in Hwanwoong’s stomach, his eyes shifting to the quietly rumbling mass, placing a hand to his underbelly to cradle the seemingly agitated tummy. His stomach let out a sickly gurgle, causing the smaller to groan out and arch his back against the cushions. “Ah!—.. Belly ache..” He cried out, pressing his palm into his stomach, feeling the contents shift roll against his touch.

Now was Keonhee’s chance... ”Oh gosh.. Cmere, let me rub your tummy.” He open his arms and before he could even finish extending them, Hwanwoong was sat on his lap, caressing his round, bloated midsection. Keonhee was quick to press his hands to the dome, earning a moan from the smaller boy. He could feel all the food and soda churning against his palms, the churning soon becoming very audible. A soft whimper fell from Hwanwoong’s lips, looking down at his midsection to see Keonhee’s fingers pushing and massaging deep into the swollen, gurgly mass, each new press creating a chain of deep rumbles in his stomach, the contents shifting under Keonhee’s touch. “Oooh... settle, please...” Hwanwoong muttered to his belly, placing his hand to the side of it, giving it a gentle pat. “Please do.. No one likes an achy belly..” Almost as if the orb had a mind of its own, it let out a deep, burbling rumble, one that could be felt in his upper stomach, all the way down to his bellybutton. Just like that, the ache in Hwanwoong’s belly eased, his lips heaving a relieved sigh, a faint smile on his lips as he now rubbed his hands over his rumbling tummy. Suddenly, the smaller boys eyes widened, shifting a little in Keonhee’s lap. Was.. was that his cock he could feel..? Was Keonhee... turned on..? His attention turned back to the boy under him, seeing that he was still rubbing at Hwanwoong’s belly, totally entranced by it. Hwanwoong’s own cock twitched in his shorts, reminding him how much he enjoyed these kinds of things.. And now he had someone who.. might enjoy them too? With a bite to his lip, an idea came to mind, praying that his suspicions were correct. “Man.. You really stuffed me good, huh? My whole belly feels so tight.” Hwanwoong hummed, turning his attention toward the other belly in the room. Keonhee blinked, ears turning red at the others words, looking up at the boy in his lap. “i-.. i guess so...” The taller boy swallowed hard, watching as Hwanwoong pulled his hands away to cup the sides of Keonhee’s stuffed belly, hearing it growl at him. “Ooh, i hear you. no need for that.” Hwanwoong argued with the bloated tummy, giving it a gentle smack. “Oh-mmf!” Keonhee brought a hand to his mouth, his stomach letting out a loud grumble, bloating outwards a little more, a soft burp puffing out his cheeks. He placed his hand over the even more swollen stomach, feeling it churn beneath his hand. Hwanwoong watched the event unfold, hands still cradling Keonhee’s ballooning belly with a deep red blush on his cheeks, both of the boys now noticeably hard. “So... Youre into this, too?” Muttered Keonhee.

Over the next few minutes, the boys took in what just happened.. The sounds of their bellies rumbling being the only things that could be heard. A soft whine from Keonhee’s belly broke the silence between them as Hwanwoong cooed and leaned forward, leaning against the other with their bellies pressed into each other. Simultaneously, they both let out a soft burp from the pressure against their stomachs, causing them both to chuckle. “Suddenly, you’re a whole lot sexier, Mr Lee.” Hwanwoong whispered, watching as Keonhee rolled his eyes. “Mm, unfortunately for you.. your still a whole lot shorter.” Keonhee teased back, laughing softly with Hwanwoong before their eyes met. Soon, both of their bellies were gurgling with messy digestion, and in that time, they were both now aware of each other’s strange fetish. They spent this time flirting and kissing, letting their bellies do must of the talking for them. The ache in Hwanwoong’s belly soon eased with little burps Keonhee managed to massage out of him, his stomach becoming quieter once more. “Oh~.. Good boy.” Keonhee muttered, praising the belly for calming down. Hwanwoong giggled as his stomach let out a soft groan in response, leaning down to wrap his arms around the others neck, their bellies now pressed together. “Mm, you’re still digesting.. I can feel it against my stomach.” Hwanwoong hummed, pressing his lips to tallers, Keonhee chuckled and pushing up into Hwanwoong a little more, their bellies crying out between them. Their hips began to rut and roll against one another, each movement making their stomachs churn against one another’s. “Such a round little belly you’ve got, baby. it’s so fucking full.” Keonhee whispered, whining when he felt the others stomach pull back. Hwanwoong sat up in Keonhees lap, resting a hand over his soft burbling belly, hips grinding down against the other. “Oof.. I can feel everything moving through me. Fuck, i feel pregnant.” He giggled, taking the end of his shirt and slowly raising it up, exposing his round little pot belly full of pizza. Keonhee groaned at the sight, bucking his hips up needily. “You hear that? My belly is thanking you for the meal~” Hwanwoong commented, the burbles and rumbles in his get getting louder once more. Teasingly, the smaller boy began to bounce on Keonhees clothed cock, moaning and holding onto his belly as it sloshed and gurgled with each movement. Keonhee was just about to flip them over when he felt the movements and rumbling of the others belly stop. He looked up at hwanwoong, seeing him caressing the swollen orb, a worried look on his face. “Ooh, gosh.. i think i upset— mmf...” He was cut off by a deep gurgle from deep within his stomach, the gurgle shaking his belly as it rumbled up through his throat, releasing with a bone rattling belch that could be heard from the streets outside.

It was silent for a moment, nothing but the sounds of their bellies gurgling together. Keonhee blinked, watching as Hwanwoong cradled his belly again, letting out a soft giggle. “Whoops... Where were we again?”Before you knew it, the two boys pressed their lips together in a soft kiss, which turned hungrier and more passionate by the second. Soon, rumbles and sloppy kisses filled the room, Keonhee’s hands finding their way to Hwanwoong’s ass. The smaller boy pulled back with a moan, pressing down against the cock that prodded against his ass. “So hard... already?” He smirked, nipping at Keonhee’s bottom lip. “Mm, you say that like you’re not throbbing up against our stomachs.” Keonhee whispered, Hwanwoong’s eyes widening against and pulling back a little and glancing down between them, seeing that his cock has pushed passed the hem of his bottoms, his tip exposed and pressed between the rumbling orbs. “Fu-.. fuck im so so—“ “SH!” Hwanwoong was cut off by a shush, Keonhee’s hands pushing down hwanwoong’s bottoms, freeing his cock and soft, plump ass. “It’s sexy~ Just like you and your belly..” Hwanwoong was quick to shift himself out of his bottoms, and tug Keonhee’s down as well, watching his massive cock slap up against his round belly, covered in his own pre-cum. “God i want you so fucking bad..” Hwanwoong climbed back onto Keonhee’s lap, laying back down against him, this time being a lot rougher as he pressed their bellies together, causing them both to gurgle and churn harshly. “Oof.. mm.. i think my belly is getting gassy..” Keonhee groaned, letting out a series deep belches, All while his belly gurgled and sloshed with digestion. Hwanwoongs belly, on the other hand, churned hard, the food sitting in his belly like a rock, not wanting to digest much anymore. His stomach groaned and cried with indigestion, making his whole belly upset again. The vibrations of the two bellies grumbling together surrounded Hwanwoong’s cock, feeling the food in their stomach shift and slush against his cock, and at this point, he didn’t care if his belly got upset. “K-Keonhee.. I need you.. I.. I need you..” Before Keonhee could react, Hwanwoong was pushing himself down onto his cock, bulging out his belly even more as everything shifted inside of him. The two boys moaned and whined, the heat around keonhee’s cock was almost too much for him to bare. He was already so close. Hwanwoong sat up straight and cradles his belly again, bouncing himself mercilessly on Keonhee’s cock, his belly sloshing with each bounce. A burp fell from Hwanwoong’s lips, taking the others hands and placing them to his swollen gut. “You feel all that? can you feel all that moving around in there, baby?” Keonhee groaned at the others words, nodding his head as the contents in hwanwoong’s belly sloshed up against his stomach walls roughly. He gave a solid smack to the sloshy tummy, causing Hwanwoong to moan and place his hand over it, letting a deep, sour burp rumble out his throat. Keonhee watched as the belly shook with the burp, unable to hold his excitement any longer. He gripped onto the swollen orb and forcefully nicked his hips up deep into Hwanwoong, releasing his thick seed deep side of him, stomach groaning with each pump of cum. “K-KEONHEE!” Hwanwoong yelped, feeling his stomach bloat out more with Keonhee’s seed. With a whine, Hwanwoong reached his high, shooting his cum all over Keonhee’s gurgly belly.

The two rested there, bellies full, balls empty and heart’s content. And that’s how they stayed for the rest of the night. By morning, they laid snuggled up on the sofa, the sound of a hungry Keonhee tummy waking them both up. Yawning, Keonhee turned into his back, Hwanwoong snuggling his side as he stretched out. Hwanwoong giggled at the hungry gurgles the others belly let out, reaching over and lifting up the tallers shirt. The bloat was almost gone, and what bloat he did have laid in his lower belly, ready for the next stage. Hwanwoong rubbed his hand over the swell of Keonhee’s lower belly, smiling as he thought about the night they had. Another rumble from his belly made Keonhee finally sit up and slip his boxers on, standing up and ruffling Hwanwoong’s hair. “I’m gonna start breakfast... I’m thinking big..” Keonhee smirked. Hwanwoong rolled into his back and propped himself up, hearing his stomach let out a sickly groan. Keonhee’s face fell as both of the boys watched Hwanwoong lift up his shirt and reveal and much more bloated belly than last night, another deep, sickly rumble shaking the belly. Hwanwoong looked up at Keonhee with worry, placing a hand over it and feeling it churn the still undigested meal from last night. “i-... i think i’m going to be sick..”

To be continued <3

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dinogoofy · 3 years

Text

Kabal × reader

Flowers for broken hearts

It's an angsty one boys

Ok, just for reference, this is gonna be a really weird timeline, and we're gonna pretend that revenent kabal was revived with Jax, but went straight back to the black dragons, ok? Ok.

Like normal, sexual scenes are implied but not explicit.

TW for violence.

----

You had always loved mornings, but honestly it was only because of the man you woke up next to each day.

The birds were tweeting softly from outside the window, and you tried to stretch in the warm, early morning sun, only to find out that you were stuck.

Your fiancé's warm body was curled around you loosely, still asleep. You smiled, he definitely deserved the rest, especially after last night. You snuggled into Kabal's bare chest, breathing in the scented remnants of the awful Axe cologne he still used.

Kabal hummed at the movement, holding onto you a bit tighter and nuzzling into your hair.

"Good 'morning, sunshine." He groggily spoke, rubbing your back up and down as you cuddled close to him. That early morning voice of his never failed to make your heart flutter.

"Good morning, handsome." Kabal smiled, kissing your head. You sighed, content in the warm bed. The fuzzy, happy feeling in your chest blooming as you pressed your face into his neck, lightly kissing his smooth skin. You could feel the rumble in his chest as he faintly chuckled, somehow pulling you even closer to him.

"Tryin' to get me going this early in the morning huh? Such a naughty girl…" You gasped, fake offended as you slapped his chest.

"Kabal!"

"What? You and I both know you find me irresistible-" You laughed, covering his mouth with your hand and pressing your forehead to his.

"Oh, shut up! Stop being such a cocky bastard, or I might just stop kissing you all together!" You could feel his smile from underneath your fingers. Before you knew it he had flipped you over on the bed, your back pressed into the cushion as he leaned over you. His loose, long black hair falling around the two of you like a curtain.

"If that's the case, I guess I'll have to start stealing them from you, Dear~" The bubbling laughter in the room was infectious as Kabal pressed kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, anywhere where he could get really. The fuzzy feeling bloomed once again, and for a moment you were reminded that this was indeed your happy place. You caught his face in your hands with some effort, and pulled him into a soft kiss.

Kabal eagerly pressed into you, sliding one of his hands up your arm to gently lace with your own hand. What a wonderful way to wake up.

Unfortunately, the soft moment was cut short as His phone started to ring. Kabal broke this kiss for a moment, and heavily sighed. Pressing one last quick kiss to your lips before getting out of bed. You frown at the loss of contact, but didn't refrain from ogling his butt as he stood.

"My eyes are up here, Babe." Kabal jokes, not even turning back to look at you as he picks up his phone, opening his dresser in the process and grabbing some pants.

"Stryker, whatcha got for me?" It felt like your heart sunk into your stomach upon hearing the name. It was supposed to be Kabal's off-day! The whole reason the two of you had moved to the country just outside of New York City was so Stryker would stop calling kabal into duty so randomly.

You knew how important this job was to Kabal, so you never protested when he did leave. You put up with him during the awful, random merc jobs that he had while working with the black dragon. You couldn't be mad at him for working an extra shift for the station every once in a while.

At least you don't have to worry about that Kano asshole and the black dragon showing up unannounced. You thought. At least there's that.

Kabal let out another heavy sigh as he hung up the phone, running around the room to gather his things in a hurry. He looked worried.

"Is everything alright?" Kabal shook his head as he threw a shirt on. Rushing over to press a kiss to your head.

"Something weird is going on in the city. He mentioned something about Outworld fusing with earthrealm… or something like that. Said I needed to get my ass over there right away." Kabal cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb along your cheekbones in a soothing manner as you frowned.

"Just come back in one piece, ok?" You tried not to let your voice waver as you spoke. Kabal chuckled, leaning down to give you a hug.

"I'll do my best, sweetheart." Your chest tightened as he let go of you to rush out the door.

"I love you." He turned around with a bright smile on his face.

"I love you too." And just like that, he was gone.

It kinda felt like he took your heart with him.

It's been a long time since Kabal walked out on you. It's been rough. The tears, the heartbreak. He hadn't contacted you. No voice-mail, no messages, nothing. You had started to wish that Stryker hadn't even told you that he was alive. But he did. And now all that's left to do is get over him.

That wasn't quite as easy as you thought it would be.

"Hey kabal, I'm just...calling to check in on you. Call me back soon, alright?"

"It's me again. I know I've been calling your work phone a lot, but I'm really worried."

"Could you please, just- just pick up the phone? Just once? I miss you."

"Our wedding date is- was supposed to be next week. I...I won't be mad if you come back this late… just please, come home."

"It's… *hic* it's me again um… we um… went out tonight. They told me to give it a rest. Heh, but I know this line's still active! Stryker *hic* told me so. He wouldn't lie right?"

"..."

"I'm going to stop calling this phone soon. If you can hear this...I… *sigh* nevermind. This is useless. I'm sorry."

----

After Kabal left, you saved your money and quit your job. Turning the land around your home into a flower farm, you had already lost so much, why not give back to yourself? Your favorite hobby became your favorite job, and soon enough you had made enough money to build a little shop on the property just a little closer to the road. And my oh my, was business booming.

"Hey Mrs.Cameron! How've you been?" Mrs. Lissy Cameron and her wife were once your wedding planners, and then they became your #1 customers when you opened up shop. She smiled at you, and you carefully took the premade bouquet of flowers from her to ring it up on the register.

"I've been wonderful! Sarah's been asking to come here all week, so I figured we might as well stop by on our way back home." Her wife scoffed, playfully swatting at her.

"Please, we both wanted to drop by. Lissy has been obsessed with your hyacinth bouquets since you did the floral arrangements for Janet's wedding." You giggled sweetly, telling them their total and carefully bagging their flowers. When you looked up to take Lissy's card however, the two of them looked worried.

"Is everything ok?" Sarah sighed at the question, reaching out to take your left hand. Your chest started to squeeze up.

"You're wearing it again." You solemnly looked down at the ring on your finger. Letting out a curt, sad laugh. You hadn't noticed that you had put it on this morning. You were kinda on autopilot when you woke up after sleeping through your alarm, and had to rush to open up shop. It must've been simply out of habit. It had taken a while to stop wearing it, as it partly carried the hope that he would be back. But he wouldn't be, and you knew that. But every once in a while…

"I hadn't even realized. Thanks for letting me know." They gave you a pitiful look as you slipped the ring off your finger and set it next to the register. Lissy gave you a soft smile when you finished ringing them up.

"Hey, Sarah and I were going to get drinks tonight with a few friends. You could tag along if you'd like? I'm sure you'll meet some interesting people." Lissy wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you laughed when Sarah slapped her arm for it. Sarah turned and gave you a soft look.

"You don't have to Honey," She paused. "But it might be good for you to get out of the shop sometime. We barely even see you outside this place." You tried your best to smile at them, but it came out sorta lopsided.

"I'll think about it." Lissy gave your hand a reassuring pat, taking the flowers and waving goodbye as she and Sarah went out the door.

"Take it easy!" You smiled sadly at the words.

"I'll try."

----

Today had been the busiest day you've had in a while, but it felt worth it in the end as you closed up shop. The setting sun casting a warm glow through the many windows. Creating a perfect, calm setting to close everything up. You tidied the flowers that were left over from the day, replaced the water in the vases, even swept.

You had gone out and turned on the sprinklers for the bushes and blooms outside, coming back inside to mop before you had to run back out again to turn it off and finally, finally turn in for the night.

The water sloshed around as you set the bucket down to start mopping near the counter. When you stood, your eyes caught on the ring again.

That stupid, beautiful, ring that never failed to put a damper on you mood. You slowly staggered toward it, gently picking it up in your hands to examine it.

It had always been the most beautiful piece of jewelry you owned, it was a shame that it wasn't used for some other couple. Preferably one that actually worked out in the end. As you traced the outline of it you started to wonder where Kabal was right now. Was he ok? Was he married so soon? Did he have kids? Or maybe he was just dead. You didn't know which one hurt worse.

You sighed. You couldn't keep doing this. You couldn't keep finding it, and thinking about him, and bringing the pain all back to the surface again. You just couldn't. You set the ring back down. Maybe you should take Lissy's offer up. Drink your woes away.

A noise caught your attention, kicking you out of your thoughts. A clay pot rolled across the floor as you looked up.

"Hello?" You called out. No response. You slowly grabbed the bat you kept underneath your counter, and started to creep over to the other end of the shop, walking through the giant, open doorway that separated the sunroom, where the flowers are kept, from the shop.

There didn't appear to be anyone there when you got over that way, and you sighed, relaxing for a second. You leaned down to pick up the pot.

"Gotcha!" Suddenly a pair of arms forcibly wrapped around you. You screamed, and one of the arms suddenly moved from your waist and clutched your throat.

"Keep it down, or I'll fucking kill you." Still panicked, you managed to wrench an arm out of the man's grip and sharply elbow him in the side. He groaned in pain, and the split second he loosened his grip was enough for you to break from his hold and slam the pot down in his head.

He yelped in pain this time. Holding his now bleeding head. You held the bat in both hands now, ready to swing again.

"Get out of my shop! NOW!" You barked at him. He chuckled in a creepy, unhinged way. Smiling up at you with disgusting yellow teeth and spitting on the floor.

"I'll be damned if any of Kano's bitches tell me what to do!" You couldn't even process the words before he lunged at you again, you tried to dodge swiftly. Unfortunately, he was still able to grab one end of the bat. He used it to yank you closer and knock you to the ground. You desperately tried to push him off as he wrapped his cold, dirty hands around your throat, pushing all of his body weight there.

You tried to kick at him, but he wouldn't budge. Your nails clawed deep into the skin of his wrist, and even lashing out at his face had no effect. Your eyes started to get teary as you struggled to breath.

All you could feel was a rush of wind, and the man had been knocked off of you. He was launched into one of your tables of flowers, breaking it in half as he landed. You coughed, gasping for air. Thankful that you could breathe again. You felt so sore, but you still sat up, baffled by the events.

A new man was standing in between you and the attacker. He was clothed head to toe in frightening, thick gear, fists clenched. You wouldn't have known who it was. Especially not with the mask on his face, but when your eyes settled on the hook swords on his back…

It couldn't be…

A scream interrupted your thoughts. The new man holding your attacker up by his neck. He was screaming for forgiveness, for a chance to run. You stood, and the masked man stiffened, dropping the other into the mess once again.

"You've got two minutes to run." The attacker didn't even spare a glance at you before trying to bolt out the front door, slamming into it hard before frantically popping the lock open.

The masked man hadn't looked at you, but you, however, couldn't take your eyes off of him. He started to walk away when you called out for him.

"Kabal?" Your voice broke. He didn't turn back. He kept walking. Fury started to build up in your chest. You stormed over to him, grabbing him by the sheaths on his back.

"Where do you think you're going?! You come back for two fucking seconds and plan to leave just like that? Without an explanation? Fuck you!" Tears were running down your face now. He stops in his tracks, but doesn't turn around. He calls your name.

"That guy's gotta grudge against the black dragons-understandably. 'Managed to hack into some old files. He's been hunting down family and friends and killing them on the spot. Had a few 'mercs quit on us Kano gave me the order to kill him." He pauses. "That's the only reason I came back." You didn't flinch at the info that he was back with the dragons, but It felt like your heart shattered a second time when he spoke the last few words. This fucking asshole. you refused to back down.

"You know that's not the explanation I'm asking for." He didn't respond. But he didn't move either. You stepped in front of him. Looking straight into the eyes of his mask. Tears were still streaming down your face, your hands were shaking, you were so fucking mad, and sad, and destroyed. You almost wished he had been dead.

"Kabal. Where. The. Fuck. have you been." He sighed, and you couldn't tell if he was making eye contact- or even trying to, through his mask.

"Don't worry about it." You were clenching your hands so hard your nails started to bite into the skin of your palm.

"I swear to God, Kabal. You fucking left me without so much as a note. You're going to tell me why!"

"I don't have to tell you anything." He pushed past you forcefully, making his way to the door. For a moment you just stood there in shock. What was wrong with him?!

"Excuse me?!" He sighed, walking over to your counter.

"I'm not doing this with you today." You were bubbling with rage, not able to even swallow your sobs. Kabal had stopped at the register, frozen for a moment, and you took that chance to reach out and grab him by the shoulder, forcibly turning him around.

"In case you fucking forgot, our wedding was supposed to be two months after you disappeared on me. Do you know how much that Fucking hurt?! Do you have any idea how much it hurts now, you piece of shit! God just- at least just TELL me why!" Kabal stiffened, and you knew he was starting to become angry. Or maybe he was sad. You couldn't tell. No one spoke for a long moment as you tried to wait for him to respond. He didn't.

Your watery, angry eyes were glaring at him, and he watched as you walked behind the counter. In a moment of uncontrollable anger, you snatched the ring up and forced it into his hands. His shoulders slumped immediately when he realized what it was.

"Get the fuck out of my shop." Your hands were shaking, your face was still flushed, eyes red from the tears, but you didn't look away from him. He started to call your name, but you interrupted him.

"GET OUT!" Your voice had gone hoarse. Kabal didn't budge. Slowly, very slowly, he reached up to his mask. As he took it off. Your guarded expression immediately faltered.

His face was horribly scarred. You sucked in a breath from pure horror for a second. Burn scars all over his face. You looked at his hands, his neck. He was scarred everywhere. His face twisted in disgust as he analyzed your face.

"You really wanted to know that bad, huh? I left you because I already knew what you would think, what you would say if I came home to you like this." You were almost in shock, tears running down once again as you gently reached over the counter to touch Kabal's face. He flinched for a moment, but let you touch him.

"What happened?" Your voice shook, horror evident on your face. His face fell for a moment as you touched him, so terribly gently. He hard look in his eye softened.

"What does it matter? I'm horrific." You let out a sad, snarky laugh. Cupping his face with both your hands, caressing his cheekbones just as gently as he did yours the morning he left.

"Don't you remember the night you proposed?" He sucked in a breath, and your hands gently pushed his short hair out of his face before you reeled yourself in. You wouldn't touch him like this. It didn't matter why he left you, he still did it. But even then, your heart ached for him. Damn, you needed to see a therapist.

"I had quit the black dragon. I was asking what you thought of me joining the NYPD."

"And?" Your voice broke as you struggled to maintain a strict tone.

"...and?" You nodded tearfully, sniffling from all the crying. Kabal kept going. "We talked about my tendency to join violent fields. I… I had asked you if you'd still love me if I came home with bruises every night, just like I had used to." His face started to shift. You already knew he remembered what you were about to say. That flicker of anger started up in your chest as you spoke bitter words.

"I told you that I'd love you no matter how many scars, or bullet holes, or bruises you came home with, as long as you were coming home." Kabal's realization left a devastated look on his face, and no matter how bitter you felt, you couldn't help but reach for his hand. He held your hand back limply.

"...I kinda fucked that one up. Didn't I?" You laughed, a pitiful, angry noise.

"You did." You stopped for a moment. "You did." You felt numb as the words fell into a whisper.

"-But no matter how fucking angry I am, I don't think that statement ever changed, Kabal." He ran his thumbs over your knuckles, avoiding eye contact with you by looking down at them.

"... You'd really still love me after all this? After all the scars, all the time…" You pressed your lips into a line, sighing before squeezing his hand. His eyes started to water as your own began to dry.

"I..." It was difficult to say this. It really was. But you wanted him back. You really did. You wanted to give him that second chance. You wanted those sleepy mornings and the pillow talk and the awful food he cooks. You missed him so fucking much.

"It's gonna take a while, and certainly some couple's therapy, but Kabal…" You held his cheek again, lifting his head to look at you. You looked into his eyes and bit back what you were originally going to say. Letting out a pitiful laugh at yourself before doing your best to wipe that look from his face. You didn't owe him anything, but you saw an opportunity and took it.

"... I wouldn't mind seeing that ass in the morning again." Kabal was taken off guard for a moment, and you felt triumphant. He erupted in wonderful, happy laughter. Pulling you close from across the counter and kissing your forehead.

"How could I say no to that?"

"Kabal, weren't you supposed to take care of that one guy?"

"Shit."

#mortal kombat imagines #kabal mk11 #kabal x reader #mk11 kabal #mk11 #mk kabal #mortal kombat x reader #mk imagine #mk x reader

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iamtheblondestblonde · 4 years

Text

Clear as Day

Part One?

AN: Here’s some friends with benefits with Vince that I came up with in between cases at work. Vince if you’re reading this I’m so sorry please stop right here but also hmu I swear I just wanna be friends. I don’t know much about being a pediatric nurse (financial law anyone?) but I did volunteer at a hospital for a while so I hope it’s not super far off. I have plans and some stuff written for a part two that could be the same length so let me know you want one but it could be complete like this. (First person narrative but again no names or descriptions for the mc)

Warnings: language, definitely (also English isn’t my first language so perhaps some mistakes) and smut, also definitely (yes you read that right I did it again)

Word Count: 13.3k

I loved my job. I really did. I found it rewarding to be able to make tiny faces light up but I was currently on my second day of 12 hour back to back shifts, with yesterday closer to 14 hours, and I just really wanted to spend the entire day in bed.

It wasn’t even 7 a.m. yet and the streets of Toronto were already bustling, everybody preparing for a busy day. The sound of the ice cubes sloshing around in my coffee had become a staple background noise for the walk from the employee parking lot to the front entrance of the hospital, it soothed me.

As soon as I stepped into the building I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face, despite being sleep-deprived and basically needing a break already. There was a new drawing pinned to the wall by the nurses’ station and if the image of my smiling face wasn’t a dead giveaway already, it was hard to miss my name written on top of it in big bold letters.

It had started out as a joke really, a half-hearted complaint about me not getting as many drawings as others because most of my patients didn’t stay long in the ICU. From that moment on Lucas, my only long-term patient right now and all-time favorite teenager, had made sure that there was always a new one waiting for me every week. He was really good at drawing as well and I had an entire stack of amazing portraits, landscapes and lots of other random things at my apartment that I cherished dearly.

“He wanted to give it to you himself but then we had to give him something and he asked me to put it up so you’d see it as soon as you got in.” I turned around to see Mariah standing behind me, her face showing the same look of fondness as mine. Most of the nurses were pretty convinced that he had a crush on me and while I had to face lots of playful jabs because of that, she never gave me shit about it. She was probably about to head out and I knew that she only stayed behind to tell me this so I made sure to thank her.

“Is he up yet?”

“Surprisingly not, although he should be soon. He’s had a rough night and he stayed up way too long to draw but I doubt that anything could ruin this day for him, two dreams coming true and all.”

As soon as her words registered with me I mentally facepalmed, I’d completely forgotten that we’d get a visitor in a couple of hours. Because of Lucas’ surgery he hadn’t talked about hockey all that much lately, so I’d kind of forgotten that today he would get to meet one of his idols. I was about to respond something when I spotted Sydney waving me over.

Sydney was in charge of all of the pediatric nurses during the day shift, meaning that I had approximately three seconds to make my way over before she’d get impatient because she was always so busy. I waved goodbye to Mariah and speed walked over to Sydney, curious to see as to what she needed of me. She never beat around the bush, always coming straight to the core of things so I didn’t expect the conversation to last long and today was no different. She probably held the world record for fastest talker.

“So you know we’re getting a visitor today which means that I need someone to run a tight ship for me. You’re young and perky and I asked around and people love you. I know you helped with some of the Leafs the last time so you should already be familiar with the protocol. This is a big hospital and I want all of the kids on the list to get a chance to talk to Mr Dunn and that won’t happen if he gets lost so I want you to stay with him at all times, got it? I’ll get one of the on-calls to take over for you during everything.”

I couldn’t even get a word in before her pager went off and she jogged off after practically thrusting a file into my hands, unable to respond anything as she said something over her shoulder about this being a gift. I stared after her with my mouth hanging wide open, not really comprehending what had just gone down yet.

Being ‘young and perky’ had apparently just managed to get me demoted from a RN to a babysitter for yet another over-confident celebrity which didn’t really feel like a gift at all.

Lucas had told me all about how great this Vince apparently was but I had seen my fair share of famous people walking around these halls with camera teams following them, it was kind of a part of working with sick kids. There were exceptions of course, some of them were really nice but those were usually the ones that didn’t visit the kids for some good PR. While I was glad that it would make Lucas happy it didn’t really impress me anymore.

Besides I hadn’t really paid attention to hockey ever before, although it was hard to escape the hype right now with me being a St. Louis native. Some of my friends had sent me pictures of the parade from about a month ago but I hadn’t really paid much attention because I’d been slammed with work, not recognizing any of the players either way.

The file Sydney had given me consisted of a schedule for the day and a list of the kids that wanted to meet Vince, which was surprisingly long for this being a hospital in Toronto and him playing for the Blues. Even with my limited, read non-existent, hockey knowledge I was pretty sure that the team wasn’t liked very much in the league but I blamed it on them winning. Sydney was right, we would have to make good time to get through everybody.

I couldn’t exactly spend forever going through the file because I had mostly new admissions assigned to me and that meant lots of charting and running tests. I did spend my break reading through everything and trying to come up with a plan while shoveling food to my mouth at record speed however. Even if I wasn’t exactly thrilled with this assignment there was absolutely no way I wouldn’t be prepared. I would leave this hospital with the best possible impression of me, all things be damned.

It was kind of hard to focus on what was written in front of me though when I had three other nurses standing close by and ranting about how hot Vince apparently was. Lucas had shown me his hockey card a few times but I didn’t really know what he looked like because I was usually busy putting in a new IV line at the time, something he’d come to hate so talking about hockey was the perfect distraction. I was tempted to google him but before I got the chance my pager went off, signaling that the incoming convoy was about to arrive.

Unable to stop myself I checked my reflection quickly in one of the mirrors on my way out of the restroom. Call me vain but I didn’t want to end up in any pictures or videos looking like a total slob, even if it was just in the background. I’d taken the time to shower this morning but I definitely would’ve added more than the layer of concealer if I’d known about this earlier. At least I’d gotten my brows done and my lash extensions refilled a couple of days ago. Deciding that it was too late to do anything else about it I walked towards the front entrance with the file in my hands, making sure one last time that I knew where to take this Vince first.

It wasn’t hard to spot him in the group that arrived, the big shiny trophy he was lugging around kind of a dead giveaway.

He was good-looking, I had to give him that. Not in the rugged handsome way however, it was more of a defined features and beautiful way. The kind of look that got you dubbed as a pretty boy during high school, the polo shirt he was spotting only reinforcing that image.

I couldn’t really imagine him playing ice hockey. He was fit of course, but he wasn’t as big and bulky as I’d thought and if I had to guess I’d peg him as a baseball or lacrosse player, perhaps soccer even. If all hockey players looked like him however, I might have to catch a game or two after all.

I walked over with my big work smile plastered on my face, hand outstretched and he set the cup down to shake it as I introduced myself first. I caught him looking me up and down quickly but I wasn’t really one to talk because I’d done the same exact thing just seconds earlier.

“Hi I’m Vince, nice to meet you. Love the scrubs by the way”, he responded with a dazzling smile, gesturing at my outfit. Compliments weren’t a bad start, especially since I was wearing one of my favorites with an adorable blue and pink dinosaurs print.

“Thanks, one of my friends paints them for me.” Not willing to dwell too long on awkward small talk I continued: “Do you want me to get like a wheelchair for the cup or are you gonna carry it the entire time?”

“I think I’d get a lot of shit for not carrying it so thanks but no thanks.”

I quickly introduced myself to the rest of the team before herding everyone towards the elevators because he had to be upstairs in a couple of minutes. The camera team was more intimidating than I’d thought and I tried my best to distract myself from it as I pointed out different things around the hospital, only hoping that I wasn’t rambling without making any sense.

I was pretty sure that Vince could tell that I was uncomfortable because he kept our conversation going the whole time, obviously trying to make me laugh. His own laugh was hard to ignore and by the time we walked into the room where a livestream would take place the smile on my face was real. At least he wasn’t just easy on the eyes but he seemed fairly entertaining so far as well.

I watched him do the stream with Owen, who I’d spent some time in post-op with after his surgery a couple of weeks ago, and then stood close by as he talked to the long line of patients and people who were able to come up here. Sometimes when he saw a special needs kid getting closer he’d turn to me to ask for advice and tips and even all that ruckus didn’t stop him from keeping up a normal conversation with me.

He’d pick up right where we left off whenever there was a small break in between people and I wasn’t only amazed at his multitasking, but also at how amazing he was with the kids. He made me show him how to hold a baby and I think I’ll never be able to forget the image of a cute little baby boy in the cup.

“I ate cereal out of there this morning”, he whispered conspiratorially to me after the mother was finally done thanking him and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course you did. I hope you put it in the sink afterwards at least.” He gave me a wounded look, as if me insinuating he was not a clean person was hurting his ego and I laughed even more. I couldn’t really tell if he was trying to flirt with me or if he was like this with everyone but the mixed signals he’d sent me all afternoon were starting to get confusing.

“You think so lowly of me, I thought you’d know better by now.” With anyone else the wink he sent me as he delivered his line would have probably been overkill but somehow it worked for him.

The fact was that I did know better by now, even if it had only been just under two hours. I probably hadn’t been this wrong about something since I absolutely botched a math test in tenth grade thinking I aced it and he had turned out to be nothing like I had imagined him to be. Perhaps the early morning sleep-deprived me lacked the sense of being able to assess character that I usually had.

When I told him that it was time to leave he looked at me with a puppy eyes, pleading with me to let him stay a little longer. Working in pediatrics I got this a lot but somehow it had a whole different effect on me coming from a 6 feet tall hockey player with lips that were practically made for pouting.

“But there’s still some people left that I haven’t gotten to.”

“There’s also some kids that couldn’t come up here because they are too sick waiting for you in the ICU and you won’t be able to see all of them in time if we don’t go over there now. There’s a tight schedule for a reason you know.”

“Fuck the schedule, I’ll just stay longer,” he said with a cheeky grin but not before covering the ears of the little girl in front of him with his hands so she wouldn’t hear him curse. At this point I felt like it was way too easy for him to make me laugh but at the same time I didn’t really want to do anything against it. These halls had seen worse things than people laughing after all.

“You fit right in with all of my patients, you know that? And don’t you have plans with the cup for this evening?”

I didn’t get an answer straight away because Vince took his time to talk to the last five families left in line before we made our way back to the elevators. I had kind of forgotten about the camera crew that was there to document it all until all of us were crammed back inside the tight space, my shoulder brushing against Vince’s arm so I wouldn’t bump into any of the expensive equipment.

“I promised to make an appearance at this club but they’ll wait for me. By the way, you should come as well.” At first I thought he was joking, surely he had to be as we’d only met, but his try at a winning smile told me he was anything but. Again, was this him flirting or was I losing my mind?

“Shooting your shot while you’re in my good graces because of the kids, I see. I’m gonna have to disappoint though, I’m stuck here till seven and then I have another 12 hour shift coming up tomorrow so I can have a four day weekend.” I had already kind of accepted that we would never see each other again, especially with me turning him down now, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t a bit sad about it.

“That sounds brutal. I’m throwing another party at my condo on Saturday if you’re free then.”

“I’m actually driving up to a lake house with some friends for the weekend, sorry.” By now I really was interested because he seemed fun and I wanted that for my last few weeks up here but his timing was truly the worst.

“Wow, you’re really making me work for it,” he let out a teasing chuckle then, running his hand up and down his neck in a very distracting move as he contemplated his next words “I’m assuming you have a busy week next week as well so perhaps next Saturday?”

“Ummm.. I already agreed to meet some friends at a bar on that Saturday,” his face fell at that so I couldn’t help but add “but you’re welcome to meet us there if you want to see how the working class parties. Bring some of your friends as well if you want.”

The smile he gave me at that was equivalent to that of a five year old patient when they get told that they could have a slice of the chocolate cake and it made me glad that there was no one monitoring my heart rate at the moment.

The next day was just another regular day at work and while I had lots of fun yesterday, I was glad to be back in my comfort zone. Working days was anything but boring and I had been so busy that my watch told me I’d already reached my step goal for the day halfway through my shift.

I finally had some time to update the charts while sitting down at the nurses’ station, desperately hoping for some down time soon so I could perhaps even grab another cup of coffee to stop me from climbing into a free bed and taking a nap right there.

I’d seen many people pray in this building and not all of them got what they wished for but somehow today must have been my lucky day because just as I’d finished that thought someone cleared their throat in front of me. I was ready to answer some questions from worried parents but what I totally didn’t expect was Vince standing there with two coffee cups.

“I thought I’d drop this off as a thank you for babysitting me yesterday and I had a feeling that you’d need it”, he said before giving me one of his dazzling smiles. He looked good in a black t shirt and some jeans, his perfectly styled hair in contrast to the messy bun currently on top of my head. That is if the rat’s nest could even still be called a bun.

“Vince Dunn you just keep on surprising me”, I responded with a breathless laugh, not really knowing what else to say at the sweet gesture. What do you say to a good-looking hockey player that not only asks you to spend time with him three times but also takes the time out of his day for this?

Well, besides thanks, obviously.

Vince handed me one of the cups and I took a sip before looking up at him in surprise.

“How do you know the way I like my coffee?”

Instead of answering, he pointed at something behind me and I turned around to see the coffee order list I’d started a while ago in case someone decided to grab some for everyone, my name on top of the sheet.

“I noticed it yesterday in passing, I swear I’m not a stalker or anything.” He blushed at this and it was so cute and unlike his otherwise smooth self that I couldn’t just let him off the hook.

“You know, that’s exactly what a stalker would say”, I responded with a sly smile and while his face turned even more red he burst out laughing. By now we had the attention of every nurse close by and I was pretty sure that all of them were eavesdropping but who could blame them, I’d do the exact same thing. People here lived for the drama, kind of a given with how much time we spent in here because it didn’t really leave much space for a life outside of these halls. Especially if said drama involved a very hot hockey player.

“I’m changing the topic now before I embarrass myself in front of you even further just so you know. I did actually come here for one more thing,” he trailed off before bending down to pick up a bag that I hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by the guy in front of me. “I brought this for Lucas so he has something to show his friends once he gets back on the ice.” He pulled out a Blues’ jersey and turned it around so I could see that it was one of his, complete with a signature and a small message.

Lucas had been an avid hockey player himself up until his kidneys basically decided that they didn’t want to work anymore a while ago. Things had gotten so bad that he had to permanently stay in intensive care with us until after months of dragging people in here to get tested they finally found a donor in a family friend last week. At least his surgery had gone well and while I’d miss having him around, I was glad that he’d finally get discharged to recover at home later today.

I took another sip of the coffee before getting up and walking next to Vince to Lucas’ room. Lucas greeted me with a smile, which only grew after he saw who was following me into the room. Despite having struggled for so long he had always been in a good mood, even when he had to celebrate his fifteenth birthday in the hospital a few weeks ago.

“Look at you, it’s your last day in here and things just keep on getting better.” Vince and Lucas did the handshake they’d come up with yesterday, something that was absolutely necessary as a hockey player or so I’d been told.

Lucas had grown up in Chicago and he’d seen Vince play for the team there but had only really started paying attention after the apparently best fight ever Vince had gotten into at one of the games. Obviously not my words. The connection between the two of them had been instant and all the hockey talk had my head spinning more than during the first few weeks of nursing school so I made a quick exit, leaving them to it.

“I bet every nurse wishes they could trade spots with you right now, me included by the way”, Rachel, my partner in crime since day one of our college classes together, said as soon as I returned to my spot at the station.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, I responded, acting clueless. With a raised brow she reached for my coffee cup, spinning it around to reveal a small note written on the side of it that I hadn’t even noticed before.

“You sure about that? This fine specimen of a hockey player just gave you his number and you still act like there’s nothing going on? Besides, everyone saw you two getting all chummy yesterday.”

I snatched the cup out of her hands, quickly checking if the coast was clear before pulling out my phone to add his number to my contacts while keeping my head down so I wouldn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“Oh wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. All I get is annoying parents and you get hot dads and famous athletes hitting on you out left and right. Like leave some for the rest of us girl, it’s not fair.”

Even though I’d shot Vince a quick text so he could have my number as well, I never really expected anything more than his response that he’d saved it.

To say I was surprised when he texted me the following week was definitely an understatement. It wasn’t a booty call either, no, he’d texted me in the middle of the day asking if I was working days or nights this week.

Me: days as usual but I’m actually on-call today, got luckyy

Dunner: so you’re home right now?

Okay so perhaps this was a booty call after all. Not that I particularly minded.

While his first response had been pretty fast he took a little longer to answer after I told him that I was home indeed. Laying on the couch in an oversized shirt and yoga pants rewatching some Grey’s Anatomy on to be exactly. Almost the same as working. The rainy weather set the perfect mood for a lazy day in though so I hadn’t moved from my spot ever since returning from the gym this morning.

Dunner: this Chinese place near me has a special two for one offer today and I wanted to bring you some to work

I still wasn’t sure if this was him flirting but I’d also never had somebody I’d only met a week ago offer to bring me food to the hospital so he had to be, right? I sent a screenshot of the message to Rachel but I knew that I couldn’t count on her responding to it anytime soon, seeing as she was actually at work right now. I decided to be forward, telling him that I wouldn’t complain about some good food either way.

Inviting someone who was basically a stranger over to your apartment generally wasn’t exactly the best idea, but I counted on the impression I had of him so far and the reputation he surely had to uphold as a NHL player. Besides, we had lots of medical equipment scattered around the apartment so surely I’d find a syringe or something to defend myself if needed.

Dunner: I’ll be over in 30 so try not to get called in before then

True to his word the bell didn’t ring much later. I’d debated making an effort and changing but I wasn’t about to wear jeans or a skirt to hang out so that didn’t leave many options. Brushing your hair wasn’t nothing either so that counted in my opinion.

Vince had gone through the same train of thought as well apparently because he looked super cozy in some sweatpants and a hoodie that had gotten slightly wet, presumably from his walk from his car to the building as our parking situation was really shitty. He stepped inside and reached up to run his hand through his damp hair before shaking his head, making little droplets of water fly in every direction.

“This is why they don’t allow dogs in here”, I laughed, gesturing to my shirt that now looked like an abstract splash painting.

“Let me make it up to you with some of the best food you’ve ever had because I brought lots” was his response as he lifted the bag of take out while slipping off his shoes by the door, hair now sticking in all directions.

“Alright Dunner, show me what you got”, I said with a wink over my shoulder as I made my way into the kitchen, continuing my bold streak from earlier. I had also learned by now that nicknames were even more important than handshakes as a hockey player. I was pretty sure I’d heard him mumble something along the line of ‘Gladly’ but I was already too far ahead of him to be absolutely certain.

“You’re watching Grey’s Anatomy? Isn’t it like crazy inaccurate?”, he asked with a look at the TV in the living room as I hadn’t bothered to pause the episode.

“Yeah of course it is but I still like it somehow. It’s like the hospital equivalent of bad trash TV shows so it’s kind of my guilty pleasure.”

“Okay give me a quick summary of what I need to know for this episode so we can watch it while we eat.”

I looked at him like he was crazy but he urged me on, looking up at me expectantly from where he’d sat down on the couch. Eventually I gave in, trying to keep explanations as short as possible but even then it took me quite a while to get through, yet Vince never once looked like he was bored. He didn’t lose his interest in it after that either, only looking away from the screen to decide what he was going to eat next, all of the choices delicious just like he promised.

Stuffed like a turkey on Thanksgiving the both of us stayed unmoved on the couch watching episode after episode. Somehow my legs had ended up on his lap and his hands were resting on my knees, drawing slow circles as we made eye contact from time to time. Every few minutes his hand would inch up a little and with him biting his lip as he did it there was no way I would stop him, any doubts about his intentions long gone by now. I couldn’t stop the smile spreading on my lips as his hand finally reached the top of my thigh, softly kneading the sensitive part on the inside. If I was into hand porn, I would have orgasmed already at the sight of his hands wrapped around my thigh.

“What are you grinning about?”, Vince asked with an easy smile himself, looking at me in a way that told me that Meredith had long lost his attention.

“Just waiting for you to finally make a move.”

“I was trying to be somewhat of a gentlemen but I really can’t help myself with you wearing those pants..”

“Well you seem to be awful at it so don’t be one then”, I teased back feeling confident yet again.

In a flash he had somehow - I’ll probably keep wondering about the details for the rest of my life - managed to lift me up enough to shift me so I was straddling his lap, now turned on by his manhandling and the way he was currently looking up at me. For a second both of us stared at each other, trying to figure out if this was really going to happen. Vince lifted his hand from my hip to my face, slowly pulling me down towards him.

Our lips didn’t even get the chance to connect before my phone started ringing.

I jumped up from his lap, immediately recognizing the ringtone I had set for all work calls and almost kneeing him in the crown jewels in the process. One look at my screen told me that it was an emergency which prompted me to run into my room cursing. I quickly pulled on the pair of scrubs I’d laid out in the morning, one hand still pulling the top down while the other was trying to attach my badge properly by the time I made it back into the living room. Vince hadn’t even moved from the couch yet, eyes wide and legs still comfortably spread apart, a sight that made me want to climb back on top of him but unfortunately I couldn’t do that.

“I’m so sorry but I gotta go, you don’t need to rush though. Feel free to keep on watching if you want but please don’t rob us and make sure the door is closed if you decide to leave after all, it locks automatically. The food was delicious thank you very much and bye!”

I barely heard him saying bye as well before I was already through the door, not really looking forward to spending the next few hours in the chaos that usually came with emergency calls. Especially after how much I’d enjoyed spending time with Vince and how much I wished that we would’ve just skipped all of the testing-the-waters stuff and would’ve just went at it like madmen.

The weekend couldn’t arrive fast enough and by the time it was Saturday I was ready to abandon all of my plans so I could sleep the rest of the day. I’d gotten in late last night after working overtime and I probably would have stayed in bed till noon if it wasn’t for Rachel and Mariah bursting into my room at nine in the morning. At least they didn’t wake me at the crack of dawn and the cake they were carrying to my bed looked pretty delicious as well.

“Look at you, another year older and yet still sexy as fuck”, Rachel exclaimed as she hopped onto the bed beside me after they’d finished their horrible rendition of Happy Birthday. Mariah settled on the other side of me and I guess my friends knew me well enough because we didn’t move from that position except to grab some more food and booze until it was time to get ready for tonight. Best roommates ever.

“You need to look extra hot tonight, I want Vince to lose his shit when he sees you.”

Ever since I’d sent the screenshot to Rachel and told her about the couch situation, she had been on my back about the thing. Something about me needing to bag rich hot athletes for her sake. I didn’t even argue with her anymore, only rolling my eyes in sync with Mariah whenever she brought it up.

To my surprise Vince hadn’t been deterred by my hasty exit a few days ago, something that had definitely surprised me. It wasn’t the first time that my job had cockblocked me and it definitely won’t be the last and I’d met more than my fair share of guys who were absolutely not into that at all. The fascination with nurses died really fast once people realized how much time we spent on the job.

Vince and I had texted constantly since he spent the day with me and he had somehow managed to make casual conversation with a flirty undertone the entire time. We’d already established that neither of us was looking for anything serious right now but I had decided that I would definitely not say no to some fun with him.

Some birthday sex would be great for starters. I let Rachel curl my hair while I focused on perfecting my make up because I wanted to look good tonight, not just for Vince but also because by next weekend I’d already be packed so this was really my last big hurrah before moving back home.

The thing about spending most of my days make up free in sports bras, comfortable panties and running shoes was that if I did bother to go out, I put in a lot of effort. I was determined to turn heads tonight so I pulled on a black lace bodysuit that practically presented my boobs on a silver tray, a pair of jeans that made my ass look spectacular and some black stilettos that I hoped wouldn’t kill my feet in a few hours. I had to go braless under the bodysuit, the mesh part on the back making that very obvious and I had a feeling that Vince wouldn’t exactly mind either.

“Girl I’d totally bang you because you look so hot but that outfit shows off everything that’s wrong with you”, Rachel said as we all examined ourselves one last time in front of the full-length mirror in my room and took pictures. I shot her a confused look.

“Wait what’s wrong with me?”

“Well for one your ass looks bangin and so do your boobs and I’m pretty sure that I could tell if you had a dick wearing that and people with dicks are my type soooo..”, she trailed off and both Mariah and I turned towards her with an incredulous look before bursting out laughing, all the day drinking taking its toll already. It wasn’t exactly new for Rachel to stop making any sense once she had some alcohol in her but it was still just as entertaining every single time.

“I can’t believe you’re complaining about her not having a dick right now”, Mariah sighed and I couldn’t stop giggling at my idiotic friends.

“I’m not complaining! I’m just saying that I need a dick to-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Just – just for once in your life be at least somewhat normal please”, Mariah interrupted her exasperated and the both of them continuing to bicker still had me laughing by the time we climbed into the back of our Uber.

We were the last to arrive of course, because Rachel had insisted on us being fashionably late so by the time we made it inside the bar I could already spot my friends sitting in the back. She had also insisted on me wearing a stupid Birthday Girl sash, reminding me how many free drinks it would get me, but I drew the line at the tiara she had pulled out of her purse as well. I was too old for the full 21st birthday look after all.

After I was hugged by everyone and had received all of the birthday wishes and presents I realized that Vince wasn’t among the group, which was weird because we’d been texting all day and he had asked to confirm the time and place again just this morning.

It was as if my thought made him appear because soon I felt two hands gently grab my waist while his cologne infiltrated my senses. He spun me around and the force of the move had me reach out to rest my hands on his shoulders so I wouldn’t fall over. I knew he had done that on purpose.

We were standing so close that we would have definitely gotten in trouble if this were a middle school dance and the way he looked down at me right now made me curse everything that came to my mind because I just wanted to drag him to the nearest bathroom so he could bend me over the counter but of course that wouldn’t be acceptable in front of all my friends.

“Why didn’t you tell me that today is your birthday? Now I’m going to have to make up for the fact that I didn’t get you a present.”

I had a feeling that I wouldn’t mind whatever this making up entailed, if the way he tightened his grip while looking at me as if he was thinking about bathroom counters as well was any indicator.

“Because you don’t just tell people that it’s your birthday, that’s weird.” He pulled me even tighter then, wrapping his arms around me and wishing me a happy birthday after giving me a kiss on the cheek that gave me goosebumps. Before he had the chance to pull away however, I leaned up on my tippy toes because even with heels he was still taller than me and whispered “I can’t wait for the making up for it part though” in his ear.

He groaned in response and he dropped his hands to give my hips a squeeze before reluctantly letting go of me. Only now did I spot the two guys behind him that were all watching us with amused expressions, which had to be the friends he said he’d bring. Introductions were quick and I didn’t even bother to introduce everyone to Vince and his gang because the group was so big that the three of them wouldn’t be able to remember many names either way.

We settled into one of the booths and Rachel practically pushed me into the seat next to Vince, not that I minded of course. Conversation flowed easily, as did the drinks, and soon I found myself climbing out of the booth because I had just about consumed my body weight in liquid and desperately needed to go to the bathroom for something that unfortunately wasn’t sex. Walking over I could feel a slight buzz already but not to the extent that would make me stumble in my heels, perfect for a night out.

By the time Mariah and I returned I could tell that another one of Rachel’s plans was in action because now there was one more person sitting at our table, meaning there wasn’t enough space left for both Mariah and I. I was about to move to sit with some other friends in the booth next to ours when Vince, who was conveniently seated at the edge of our booth, told me to sit on his lap and that was an offer I would never turn down.

He grabbed my hips to pull me closer and onto his lap as he said: “Don’t worry I won’t bite.”

I couldn’t resist messing with him though, so I purposefully shifted closer to his crotch and leaned towards him so only he could hear me as I whispered: “What if I want you to though?” I could tell he was trying to suppress a groan and he gripped me even tighter, pulling me back into him.

Poor Vince, his balls were going to be the same color as a Blues jersey soon enough.

Unfortunately I couldn’t elaborate to make the situation even worse for him because I was being pulled into the conversation at the table. I could feel him growing hard underneath my ass though and the fact that I was able to rile him up so easily really did wonders for my self-confidence..

After I could tell that he had calmed down again I decided to put him out of his misery. Well, kind of. Me leaning across one of the pool tables as I took my shot gave him a perfect view of my cleavage or of me bending over after all, depending on where he stood.

“Are you always this bad?”, I asked after he missed yet another shot.

“No, usually I’m average at least but I guess I’m a little bit distracted right now.” He didn’t even try to hide him staring at my boobs as I took my turn. We’d both long dropped any pretense about where this was headed. After I made my shot I walked around the table to get a better angle for the next one, accidentally brushing up against Vince who now had a perfect view of my ass.

“I hope you’re only average at pool and not at anything else”, I teased him with a look over my shoulder after watching the ball roll into the hole the way I’d planned before straightening up again.

“Let me take you home so my neighbors can confirm me being anything but average”, he responded, his voice deep as he moved next to me, one of his big hands resting on my lower back to play with the fabric there, the heat of his hands practically burning my skin as I looked up at him.

Our intense eye contact was interrupted by one of the waitresses who walked up to the pool table sheepishly with a drink on her tray.

“Hey, that guy over there sent you this and I’m supposed to tell you to come over to him so you don’t have to, uh, keep playing with a - um - loser. His words not mine, sorry.” She pointed to a guy a few tables over who was decently good looking but radiated Asshole Energy off of him, his incredibly rude move not really helping either. Even if it wasn’t for Vince standing next to me I wouldn’t have touched him with a ten foot pole.

Vince had tensed up at the words and I watched him ball his hands into his fists, every muscle in his body tightening with anger. I had no doubt that because of his hockey experience he could hold his own in a fight but it wasn’t something I needed tonight. I thanked the waitress before setting the drink down and making a show of turning towards Vince, one hand trailing up from his biceps to the back of his head so I could interrupt the stare off he was currently having with the other guy.

“Don’t worry, I’m flattered that I seem to be able to distract you so much. To be honest I can’t really concentrate either because now I really want you to make me scream so loud that your neighbors file noise complaints.” Vince choked slightly and then reached for the drink that was sitting next to me, taking three big gulps while looking at me, his eyes dark.

He then grabbed my hand and I didn’t miss the smug look he threw at the other guy over my shoulder before pulling me towards the backdoor of the bar, the pool game abandoned without a second thought. The air outside had cooled down a bit by now but I didn’t even get the chance to acknowledge that because Vince had me pushed against the wall in a second, one hand resting next to my head while the other reached up to cup my face, dropping his head for a kiss.

All this teasing had finally led to this.

It was rough and yet sensual at the same time, his lips demanding and it didn’t take long until his tongue licked along my bottom lip, asking for entrance. He then deepened the kiss even further and I reached up to bury my hands in his stupidly perfect and soft hair, eliciting a throaty groan. When he pushed one of his legs in between mine I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me in turn at the delicious friction, followed by yet another one as he dropped his head to suck along my neck. I could feel how hard he was and it turned me on beyond imagination.

The thought that I would probably let him fuck me in this alley right now brought me back down to earth because this was not how I envisioned my night going.

“Vince, hold up”, I murmured and as soon as my words registered with him he pulled away, both of us panting.

“What’s wrong?”

I laughed at his expression, he looked at me as if he was truly worried that he’d overstepped a boundary. As if I hadn’t thrown hints left and right for the last couple of days. His swollen lips made it hard to concentrate because I just wanted to sink my teeth into them until he groaned again the way he had only seconds ago and I silently cursed his stupid perfect lips. I wondered what damage they could do.

“Nothing’s wrong, nothing at all. I just wanted to say let’s go back inside for like another hour or so and then we can take off.” The smile that quickly spread on his face made it obvious that he was going to say something not-PG-13 before he opened his mouth again to ask:

“Do you think your friends would mind if I dragged you home right this second?”

I had to laugh at that but it quickly died in my throat as he moved his hands to my hips to pull me close again before crashing his lips back onto mine. The going back to the others part would apparently be slightly delayed but with the way his lips and body moved against mine right now I would probably agree to anything if it meant getting to stay right in this position a bit longer.

This time it was less rushed and frantic and instead he took his time to explore every inch of my mouth while his hands wandered my body. Mine were roaming as well, from the neck down his muscular shoulders around to the front before finally creeping up his back below his shirt. I enjoyed the way I could feel his muscles tense under my touch but eventually we had to pull away from each other. We’d spent way too much time out here as it is.

“Let’s go back inside, the faster we get back the sooner we can leave and besides they’re probably wondering what we’re doing out here so long.”

The smug looks we received once we made our way back to the tables after I fixed my hair and make up and Vince did whatever he had to do to conceal his massive hard on made it clear that everyone had a good idea of what had gone on outside though. I’m pretty sure Rachel would have high fived me if it weren’t for the people sitting between us.

I sat on Vince’s lap again and this time it was torture for the both of us to wait until it was finally an acceptable time to make a getaway. I let Rachel take all the presents for me and she made Vince give her his address and phone number before she let him pull me into the back of an Uber.

I was pressed against him for the entire ride, his hand resting way higher on my leg than technically publicly acceptable. With every turn or bump in the road he accidentally brushed my core and at more than one point I had to hide my face in his broad chest so the driver wouldn’t hear the soft moans that couldn’t be stopped. I could tell that he was trying his best not to get too handsy as not to cause a scene but once we were alone in the elevator of his building all bets were off.

He walked me back against the doors, pushing one of his legs in between my own again and kissed me with a force that made me glad that I had tons of metal behind me as leverage to push back. He only pulled away once the little ‘ding’ could be heard and even then he only held off until he had me inside his apartment, barely waiting a second before he shrugged off his jacket, quickly moving onto mine.

Somehow we managed to make it onto the couch without breaking apart our kiss and I barely had time to admire his floor to ceiling windows before he pulled me close until I was straddling his lap. His lips were working on my neck again and I reminded him to not leave any marks there because I had to work on Monday morning, which only prompted him to move down lower, sucking at the skin right above the lace of my bodysuit.

“No one will see those then”, he murmured against my breasts and I moaned as he reached up to palm them through the material. By the time he was done I had several purple marks littering my cleavage and I really needed to see more of him so I motioned for him to take his shirt off, watching in awe as he reached back to pull it over his head in the perfect way only guys managed to.

His body could only be described as a work of art and I could tell that he worked really hard for it as I traced the outline of his abs, muscles contracting and goosebumps rising at my touch. The city lights made for the perfect lighting and the way his skin glowed in their reflection belonged in a museum if ever captured.

Vince reached for the button of my jeans and looked at me as if to ask if I was okay with that. I nodded before standing up, trying to get out of my jeans and heels in a quick but still somewhat sexy motion but I probably succeeded only halfway. He didn’t seem deterred by my struggle at all, the hungry look in his eyes never once vanishing.

As soon as I stood upright again Vince reached up to trace the lace embellishments, slowly moving his hands down lower towards where I really wanted them. Considering the fact that the bodysuit had already been pretty revealing in itself there wasn’t really much ‘new’ skin to see so far but he still looked at me with an intensity that almost made me shiver.

He reached to pull me down on him again but instead I surprised him by sinking down to my knees in front of him, his breath audibly hitching in his throat. For a second he was silent but as soon as I poked my tongue out to trace the ‘V’ on his lower stomach he let out a low moan, throwing his head back.

“Impatient much?”, I teased him, pleasantly surprised at my ability to make him almost lose his shit without even really doing anything.

“You have no idea. I’ve thought about this for days”, he admitted and I only smiled in return, moving to pull his jeans down along with his boxers without revealing that I had done the same. He got up to step out of both while I was focused on watching his dick bounce with the movement, amazed at the size of it.

As soon as he made himself comfortable again I grabbed the base with one hand while resting the other one on his thigh as I moved to lick the drops of precum that adorned the tip. When my tongue made contact he moved one of his hands into my hair, holding it back so he could get a better view.

“Fuck, you look so good like this”, he cursed when I finally wrapped my lips around him, taking the head into my mouth while swirling my tongue around him and taking him a bit further. I removed my lips and I could tell he was about to protest but any words died in his mouth when I started sucking his balls, reaching up to pump his length that was already slick from my spit with my hand.

He seemed to find his voice again once I licked up the underside of his dick but it was only a string of curses that turned into moans when I took him into my mouth as far as I could, my nose touching his pelvic bone. I relaxed my throat and swallowed around him, my name falling from his lips again and again as I reached up to massage his balls at the same time. I looked up to see him watching me with his pupils blown, hair sticking in all directions from running his hands through it so many times and his mouth slightly open. His arms were spread out beside him on the back of the couch and I wanted to take a picture to commemorate the moment, wanting to remember this forever. He had definitely never looked better and no one could convince me otherwise.

The hand in my hair helped me set a rhythm as I bobbed my head while licking around him and Vince was a moaning and cursing mess above me. It didn’t take long before he quite literally pulled me off him, running his hand across his face and taking a few calming breaths.

“You’re incredible but I don’t want to cum yet”, he finally murmured when he helped me back up and I wasn’t sure if he was only complimenting my blowjob-skills or more but the way he was looking at me right now made any thought besides wanting him inside me disappear.

“Vince I need you”, I practically begged and he quickly nodded before standing up with me still in his lap, reaching out to grab the back of my thighs to prevent me from slipping down. He somehow managed to walk up the stairs with me still wrapped around him while I trailed kisses along his collar bones and it was probably the hottest non-sexual thing I’d ever experienced with a guy.

He turned on a soft light once inside his room and while I would have loved to have a look around I was pretty distracted by the way he literally threw me on the bed before crawling on top of me, my legs falling apart to make space for him as if it was the most natural thing on earth.

Vince kissed down my breasts before suddenly stopping somewhere above my belly button.

“Okay I have to admit I’m a bit lost here, as hot as you look in it how the fuck do I get this thing off?” I probably shouldn’t laugh in such a somewhat serious situation but his helpless expression did nothing to stop the giggles that escaped my mouth. He was smiling as well and I was glad that we could laugh about the slight hiccup without it turning awkward.

I quickly reached down to snap open the buttons before sitting up and pulling the piece of lace over my head, discarding it in some corner of his room now completely naked.

“Much better”, he murmured, one of his hands reaching out to grab a hold of my boobs while the other one wrapped around my back, lowering us back onto the mattress. Eventually he trailed his kisses over the part of my skin that was marked up by him until he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, his hand taking care of the other one.

Slowly but surely he kissed his way down my body, skipping over the part where I needed him most to suck along the inside of my thighs. The sensation rushed through me, my core already throbbing from days of built up expectations and I let out a whine. I was tempted to try and close my legs so I could at least get some kind of friction but his shoulders between them made that impossible.

“Patience baby, don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”, he murmured and I shuddered at the feeling of his breath fanning across my heat. I didn’t even have the time to think about the fact that he had just called me baby or that I was actually a firm believer in good things happening to those who worked for them because he reached down to drag one of his fingers through my folds and all thoughts left my body.

“Shit, you’re so wet already”, he said softly but I was unable to give him any response besides a frantic nod and another desperate whine.

I’d fantasized about this for the last couple of days of course but nothing came close to the reality of one of his thick fingers dipping into my core. He teased my entrance for a bit, only pushing inside to his first knuckle but then I whined again and he pushed it in as far as he could. I was so lost in the feeling that I hadn’t even noticed him moving back up my body until he littered the valley between my breasts with heated kisses.

“So tight. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

As if the words he’d moaned into my ear weren’t already enough to make any coherent thoughts disappear, he added a second finger and I arched my back into him, the change of angle just right in a way that had me gripping the sheets so tightly that my knuckles turned white. He reached dropped down to tease my nipples, sucking and licking them expertly while his hand thrust up into me.

My moans were already filling the room but then he started circling my clit with his thumb and I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer, the anticipation and desperation definitely helping to speed things along. He looked up at me to watch my reactions and the sight of him with his mouth latched onto my breast was almost enough to send me over the edge by itself.

“I’m so close Vince, please don’t stop”, I begged and this seemed to spur him on further, his movements turning even more eager as he continued to place sloppy kisses along my skin. It was the combination of everything he was doing to me that finally brought me over the edge, the release so sweet after needing it for so long.

He made sure to extend my orgasm as long as possible, only pulling his hand away after I whimpered slightly, the stimulation a bit much now. His softly kissed his way back down and along my thighs now and I could tell that he wasn’t quite done with me yet.

“How’s the birthday girl feeling right now?”, he asked with a teasing smile and normally I probably would have smacked him for this but right now I would tolerate it because I was still in my blissful post-orgasmic state.

“Amazing so far, could do better though.”

��Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, I’m pretty sure I was promised some making up for the lack of a present and I don’t think we’ve reached that point yet.”

“Well excuse me then while I go back to work.” And with that he flattened his tongue and boldly licked one long stripe across my slit.

He started out slowly and I was glad because I was still a bit sensitive from my last orgasm, lapping at my entrance and pushing his tongue inside of me, making me gasp. It didn’t take long however until he grabbed my hips to pull me closer and onto his mouth, pushing my legs up to expose me even further to him and ultimately giving him better access.

When he sucked my clit into his mouth I couldn’t help but arch my back off the mattress again, burying my hands in his hair as he reached up to hold me still. This guy’s lips weren’t just pretty, they were apparently amazingly talented as well.

He replaced his tongue with one of his thick fingers, slowly pushing in and soon his name fell off my lips in a religious chant as he added yet another one, curling them upwards for maximum pleasure. I could feel my high coming from a mile away and Vince apparently must have too by the way I was grinding myself against his face because he quite literally dove back in, determined to shatter my word.

And shatter my world he did.

I was pretty sure I would have floated away as I reached my high if it wasn’t for Vince’s hand across my stomach keeping me grounded. My legs were still shaking with the aftershocks of one of the arguably - no hands down - best orgasms I’d had while getting head in my life. By the time I was finally able to open my eyes again he was wiping his face before grinning down at me.

“You look so fucked out already and we haven’t even gotten to that part yet”, he teased and I let out a chuckle before pushing at his chest. Leave it to him to make fun of me after he was the one who put me in this situation. Not that I was complaining of course.

“Don’t worry, it’s a good look on you. One that I’d definitely like to see more often.” He leaned down to nip at my neck then, his cock prodding at my thigh.

“If you keep doing that you definitely will”, I responded with an airy laugh, still kind of breathless. All talk died down after that however when he captured my lips with his again as he crawled on top of me, settling between my legs. Kissing him was definitely addicting and the fact that I could taste myself while doing so only made it ten times more hot.

Vince rolled his hips against mine, groaning into my mouth when his cock dragged against my skin while I couldn’t stop the moan escaping my lips either. Breaking the kiss he pulled back in a way that had him in a push-up position above me, giving me a moment to enjoy the view. His hair was sticking in all kinds of directions, his pupils so blown that they almost seemed black instead of the usual beautiful green and his muscles were flexing from holding the position.

“Still want to keep going?”, he asked and in my daze it took me a second to realize that this was him asking for consent. I had no doubt that he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to but this, him offering to stop when he had done so much for me already while not getting off yet in return, was sweet. Especially since I had made it more than obvious that stopping was definitely not on my mind.

I moved to flip us over then, straddling his thighs and wrapping my hand around his dick, pumping him a few times and in case that wasn’t confirmation enough for him I leaned down to whisper a “definitely” in his ear.

“Condoms?”

“Top drawer on your right.”

Only because we weren’t in the middle of his huge bed was I able to reach said drawer, grabbing one of the foil packets out of the box and ripping it open with my teeth before rolling it down on him. I scooted up enough to line his cock with my entrance and while I tried to watch Vince as I sunk down on him the way my eyes fluttered shut at the sensation was out of my control.

While there had definitely been enough foreplay to make the sliding in part easy it was still quite a stretch, one so amazing however that it had the both of us moaning at the same time.

“Shit you feel incredible”, he breathed and I nodded my head in agreement, too lost in the pleasure to form any coherent sentences. Rolling my hips against him created some amazing friction that had my head spinning as I clenched my muscles, eliciting throaty groans from him.

Vince reached for my hips, gripping them tightly as he helped guide me along, my clit catching on his pelvic bone with every backward movement. “You got one more in you babe?”, he asked and to my surprise I could tell that I did. The fact that I could already feel it bubbling inside of me spoke volumes of our chemistry in bed together. This was a friends with benefits arrangement I could definitely get behind.

He sat up then, changing the angle at which his cock dragged against my walls and also making it possible for him to take one of my nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth against it while tightening his grip on my hip as he thrust up into me. At this point I was a moaning mess on top of him but I honestly didn’t care. I hadn’t had sex this good in a while and the way he looked up at me in awe made it impossible to feel anything but sexy.

I didn’t even need any extra help to reach my third orgasm of the night with his name falling off my lips, the feeling so strong that my mind was absolutely blank and I saw stars dancing across the back of my eyelids as I arched into him with my eyes shut. He made sure to let me ride it out, groaning as he felt my walls tighten around him but as soon as I slumped against him he turned us around so he was on top of me, never once pulling out.

The pace at which he was chasing his own high now was relentless and hard and I would have held on for dear life if he hadn’t raised my arms to keep them above my head. One of his hands easily encased both of my wrists while he used his other to keep at least some of his weight off of me. I knew that a fourth orgasm was off the table, I was way too exhausted for that by now but he still felt amazing inside of me. I wrapped my legs around him to allow him deeper, the smack of our skin and our moans so loud that I was glad that we didn’t have any nosy roommates right next door. Those noise complaints from the neighbors I’d mentioned earlier might still roll in though.

With this pace it didn’t take long for his thrusts to lose all rhythm and I could tell that he wouldn’t last much longer. I clenched around him to bring him even closer and he groaned into the crook of my neck where he had buried his face, my name and some colorful curses falling off his lips. He readjusted his position so he could lean up enough to look at me while still holding my wrists above my head and I watched him throw his head back in pleasure as he slammed deep inside of me one last time, face contorting in pleasure as he reached his high. I could feel him pulsing inside of me and a pleasant shudder ran through me, making me sigh at the feeling. Perhaps this was my body’s way of saying girl if I could have, I would have.

He let go of my wrists then and I wrapped my arms around him as he dropped down on top of me. We both caught our breath for a few seconds which honestly wasn’t easy with the extra weight on my chest but it was a nice feeling. He had to carefully pull out and roll off of me eventually, throwing the condom next to the bed to dispose of later. For now it was nice to lay beside each other, covered in a sheen of sweat and still panting.

After finally landing back on planet earth I looked to my right at the alarm clock waiting on the nightstand, only now realizing how late it had gotten. Vince lifted his head enough to check the time as well and let out a light groan at the sight.

“You can spend the night if you want but we should definitely shower before that. Even if it wasn’t your birthday – well technically it’s not anymore – I’m not some dick that would kick you out in the middle of the night.”

I was surprised at his offer, I’d been with guys who were those dicks but I was even more surprised when he told me to pick something to sleep in from his closet before pulling on a pair of boxers and getting up to grab waters for the both of us.

I decided to postpone this until after showering, quickly making my way to his ensuite to use the toilet. I saw enough UTIs at work, I didn’t need them following me home. I was trying to wipe my make up off as best as I could with a washcloth and the face wash from his counter when he returned to his bathroom, a new toothbrush triumphantly in his hand.

“Found this in my junk drawer in the kitchen but I’ll be honest, I have no idea how it got there. The wrapping is unopened tho”, he admitted sheepishly and I laughed.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll take it.”

Our shower was quick, both of us too exhausted for any more funny business but if my gaze had dropped from time to time appreciatively no one would ever know. He had an amazing body and I would have to be a nun not to acknowledge that.

Especially while he was naked in the shower.

I definitely wasn’t a nun.

Looking for clothes to sleep in turned out to be more difficult than I’d originally thought because of his affinity to clothes that were at least one size too big. Most of them would reach my knees in a really unflattering way and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep while drowning in fabric. I tried on three, neatly putting them back afterwards and actually contemplating sleeping in only a pair of his boxers before finally finding one that didn’t make me look like a kid.

I could tell that it was an old shirt, perhaps from a previous team, worn down over time with a slightly faded print but it was comfortable and it smelled like him, even if I doubted that he had worn it anytime recently.

Vince was already tucked into bed by the time I stepped back into his bedroom, scrolling through his phone but putting it down on the nightstand once I got closer. I could see that he’d searched for a second charger so I could plug my phone in overnight as well and it was such a little gesture but yet it made me smile.

“I prefer to sleep on the right side, I hope you don’t mind”, he said as I climbed under the cover beside him. I shook my head no before responding:

“Nah, I actually like the left side better.”

“See, we’re meant to be fuck buddies.”

“I could already tell from the three orgasms but hey, if that’s what it takes for you to realize that.”

“You have a point there.”

Any other time and I certainly would’ve stayed up for a while longer so we could talk but right now I knew I wouldn’t last long. For a second I wasn’t sure how to do this, would it be weird to cuddle?

Vince made my decision easy however when he pulled me close until my back was flush against him, wrapping his arm around my waist. After our exhausting shenanigans earlier it took neither of us long to fall asleep.

The next morning I woke super early, my inner clock not allowing me to sleep past seven despite staying up late. I’d turned around in my sleep to lay on my stomach but Vince had somehow managed to keep his arm around me and get even closer.

I was slightly worried for my safety because of the fact that I had managed to sleep through a 200 pound guy basically laying on top of me but I’d slept like a baby. I could tell that Vince was still asleep by the even breaths that fanned across my neck but one part of him definitely wasn’t, poking my side. Bless the male population for their sleepy boners.

I was trying to let him sleep as long as I could, I really did, but with him so close to me and the images of last night combined with the very interesting dream I’d just woken up from burned into my memory I couldn’t help myself. I slowly turned in his arms so we were back to the position we’d fell asleep in, on our sides and pressed together spooning.

Even through my shirt I could feel his body radiating heat and if the night had been warmer it definitely would’ve been too much but right now I just wished for all barriers between our bodies to disappear.

My shifting had apparently woken Vince up successfully because he let out a throaty groan before, consciously or not, rocking against my ass and burying his face in my neck.

“Morning”, he said and I’m not gonna lie his husky morning voice did things to me that didn’t exactly help my situation.

“Morning, how’d you sleep?”, I asked, turning my head slightly so I wasn’t having this conversation with his incredibly comfortable pillow.

“Could’ve been longer but I don’t mind. Now that I’m up however..”, he trailed off, lightly biting my neck and moving his hand from my waist to grab my boob, rocking into me again, this time definitely on purpose.

This was definitely a friends with benefits situation I could get behind.

Somehow Vince managed to weasel his way into my life after that. He’d come over after I finished a shift at the hospital, spend the night and leave me incredibly satisfied the next morning when both of us went our separate ways again. Our time with each other was pretty short, only a week, but somehow I’d had more sex in that one week than in the last few months combined.

My last shift at the hospital on Saturday was, for a lack of better words, sad as fuck. So many people came up to me, telling me how much they would miss me and what a great addition I had been over the past year. When they brought a cake into the break room with a sweet message written on top of it I couldn’t help the tears that welled up. I could see Rachel subtly wipe at her eyes as well and I hugged her tightly.

“Remember our first day of classes? Oh how things have changed since then”, she muttered against me and I nodded. One thing that hadn’t changed however was our friendship. She was the reason I had come to Toronto, where she had grown up but it had been five years since I left my home to go to college and I knew that it was time to go back to my family and childhood friends.

“Don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me this soon, I’ll call you all the time and with there only being a one hour time difference between Toronto and St. Louis you have no excuse to avoid me.”

“As if I could ever avoid you, you little shit. But if your hometown insists on having you back I’ll allow it, I guess.” Her insulting me told me that she was okay again so I let go of her, the both of us still sniffling a bit as we each grabbed a piece of the cake.

When I finally made my ay back home that night Vince was already there. Mariah had probably let him in. There’s been some raised eyebrows at first but after seeing him here every day neither of my roommates was surprised when he knocked at our apartment door. Somehow he seemed to sense that I wasn’t in a talking mood right now, especially about having to say goodbye to the place that had been my home for the past year.

I was excited to see my family and friends in St. Louis again, don’t get me wrong, but goodbyes were never easy.

He greeted me with one of his comforting hugs that I’d already grown accustomed to before dropping his head to press a soft kiss on the top of my head before pulling me to the bathroom.

My shampoo and other toiletries were some of the last few things that hadn’t been stuffed in boxes and duffel bags yet and the sight made tears well up in my eyes.

“It’s okay, you know. I don’t like leaving here either”, he murmured in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, moving us so we both got hit by the stream of hot water. I wanted to forget everything but the feel of his naked body pressed against me but right now I knew I was too in my head to actually be able to enjoy it. Later maybe.

“But you get to come back every summer for a couple of months. I don’t know how long it’ll take until I can visit everyone again and even then it’ll probably only be for a few days.”

“That’s true. But your friends can also visit you. And in a few weeks I’ll be down as well and then you’ll be so annoyed by me constantly bugging you that you won’t be able to miss your friends here anymore.” My sniffle turned into a laugh at his words and I almost swallowed a big gulp of water in that moment, making both of us break into fits of laughter.

I was glad I’d have him with me again in a few weeks. Hopefully at least. We’d talked about our situation and I told Vince to hit me up again once he’d made it to St. Louis too in a few weeks and while he said he would, I knew that there was the possibility that he might not. I didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the thought too long though because he’d managed to distract me yet again when he placed searing hot kisses along my shoulder.

If he hadn’t managed to get me out of my shell back in the hospital I never would’ve ended up with him in the shower right now. Or bent over the mattress a few minutes later.

Vince Dunn, the arrogant professional athlete, had turned out to be nothing like I’d expected and I had never been more happy to be wrong.

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