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xo2dee · 4 months ago

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🗨️ ROCKET SKATES

PAIRING: Nanami Kento/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Degradation, Dirty Talk, Thigh Riding, Vaginal Fingering, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Finger Sucking, Spanking, Panty Kink, Public Sex, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Mentions of Pregnancy, Mentions of Violence (it's not done to either Reader or Nanami). WORD COUNT: 10,469. SUMMARY: It’s not often you get nice, cutesy dates with Kento, but it’s also not often they get ruined... Yet in your favor.

A/N: i wrote this back in 2021 when i was chronically horny and before my frontal lobe developed and taken the liberty to edit the fuck out of it bc i hated the original LMAO. but pls enjoy this filth <3

JJK MASTERLIST

Eyelashes coated in your favorite mascara swept over your eyes in a languid blink as you watched him, his movements nearly too fast for you to comprehend if you didn't already know what to expect.

Him in all his muscled glory hiding underneath that regular, suit get-up he donned nearly every minute he was awake in the day, showcasing the raw, brutal strength he held shadowed within himself as his arm lifted and he all but sent but a mere flick of his wrist and decapitated a curse. Afterwards, he pushed his goggles up, veins in his hand protruding and fingers tight with frustration as he eyed his surroundings in pursuit of any other curses, while you remained rooted to your spot for brief moments being too enamored with his behavior.

You were too caught on him to pay attention to yourself, a singular thought brimming along your frontal lobe to your fascination and worry over him.

Something was… off about him.

Nanami Kento was probably one of the best Jujutsu Sorcerers you had ever met (and no, you weren’t being biased and saying that just because he was your lover). He was poised with his abilities, a reserved and perfected angle to how he swung his blade through curses with such deadly precision you wondered if it was his curse technique or just him being him half the time. He finished the job quickly any time he had one, knowing exactly what needed to be done whenever he saw the first curse in his vision and studying their movements for any possible drawbacks. He was an extremely exceptional fighter all on his own anyway, being able to backhand curses (and people) if he so wanted to out of his space and all-in-all having his own advanced knowledge on combat that better helped him get the job done and get it done efficiently.

“Behind you!”

All of that was normal Kento behavior. What you were experiencing at the moment was the very reason you believed something was off about him. Your little dance with curses at that moment was not normal Kento behavior, and that was causing you to drift off and let your brain follow in on him to see if you could pick up what was so odd about him. He was tense, jerking movements of his arm swinging his blade through curses looking choppy and harsh, while the grunts leaving him he normally kept quiet and concealed were loud and groaning as he was heavier on his feet and pouncing around like some hungry predator. He was…

He was aggressive.

“Focus!”

The deep sound of his voice shouting at you after having him dive down and splitting a curse rightly in two for getting too close to you when you had been keeping your eyes on him made you grip up on your weapon more, yet it didn’t stop the shiver curling down each jut of bone along your spine when you nearly could feel the vibration of it and could taste the huskiness of it. He had not been that way all day, only recently whenever you two had been rudely interrupted on your date and had to make room for exorcising curses. Alas – you sighed and watched him run a harsh hand through his hair, him tussling it up even more – you should’ve known something like that would’ve happened.

You always could say it: dates with Nanami Kento were hard to come by, but they were always relaxing and left you feeling wholeheartedly complete afterwards whenever you both got to go on one. Though, you weren’t too sure the ‘date’ you two were on would really be worth it in the end.

Yet, color you wrong once more, it certainly was worth it in the end.

It wasn’t like you had planned for it to even happen. Who the Hell would hope in the middle of a Farmer’s Market date that you two would get attacked by curses and have to clear out the goddamn area and lead them to a more secluded and adept area to exorcise them better? Certainly not you since you rarely got to go on cutesy dates with him and just enjoy his ‘I’m not at work so I can be less strict and less professional with you’ attitude.

That last part wasn’t seeming to be happening at that moment anyway with him huffing out orders and yells at you whenever you slipped up a bit and nearly costed yourself.

You rolled your shoulders back as another lowly curse approached you, twirling your cursed weapon in your hands as you sent a substantial amount of cursed energy through it before you were dashing forward and poising yourself for a strike. You faked to the right whenever the curse provoked, a swift, brutal swing as you heard the wind whizzing through the air in your ear and felt the vibration of when the impact hit it from how hard you had swung. The payoff was worth it in the end, the curse’s head fully unlatching from its body after you pulled through your entire hit with the faint buzzing of adrenaline bubbling up through your veins whenever you felt that thrill from fighting. You stood fully afterwards, lips parted slightly from your breaths and heart loud in your ears as you laid eyes back on Kento who had cleanly cut another curse again in two.

And by your own foolish accord, you were losing focus thinking back to perhaps why he was acting so aggressive.

The day had been fine and so had the date; locked arms with Kento walking around the vicinity amicably with him holding the basket full of all fruits, veggies, greens and ingredients he wanted to use in cooking recipes you liked to listen to him prattle on about because his interest in cooking and food was as adorable as it was sexy. Kento cooked like a dream and you had a reason to tease him to say he could be a professional chef if he wasn’t a professional Jujutsu Sorcerer, to which he’d go on his humble monologue about how his cooking wasn’t all that amazing and he did it to get by and appetize himself. Yeah okay, that’s why whenever you ate his cooking he always would subtly look for your approval and let a sigh of relief when you liked it.

Adorable man.

Nevertheless it was a stark contrast to his fierce attitude with the curses. You had vocally whined and expressively pouted whenever that basket full of ingredients and edibles had been slung away by him rather harshly whenever a curse had gotten too close to you and he straight-up knocked it feet away from you two with a poorly concealed, pissed off grunt by smacking it in the face with the basket. Kento, understandably, was exasperated you had been more worried about dinner more than your own safety, but in the end you sighed while getting serious and listening to him whenever he told you plans were changing and that you two needed lure the curses away from civilians and exorcise them elsewhere.

After all, Kento held up above the safety of civilians, innocents and children more than his own self. And that included you, even though you were perfectly capable of fighting alongside of him easily and he needed to stop jumping in front of you like he had just done beforehand trying to shield you from another curse and then backhanding it away again with tensed muscles and a tensed jaw with a pants-pissing glare.

You liked fighting with Kento (even if it ended up ruining dates, and he sometimes was a bit overbearing trying to keep you safe) as it was energizing and downright adrenalizing whenever you got to fluidly moving around him and along with him. Yet at that moment, despite all the adrenaline and the pent-up aggression you could feel fluctuating off the both of you, there were no words to describe the regret you were feeling for your fashion choice. After flipping through the air and landing on the cracked pavement at one point, your ankle had twisted causing you to stumble and a curse to come flying right at you, but Kento being nearby was already steadying you with one hand first before twirling you both out of the way and then shooting another exasperated look towards you before swiftly slashing the legs off the curse.

“Watch your step.”

Honestly yeah, you got it, wearing high-heeled boots for combat was stupid, but you weren’t dressing for combat. You had dressed for a cute Farmer’s Market date that got fucking ruined, and you were then flipping around in a skirt and heels fighting curses. If you weren’t so annoyed, you’d tease him and say that he probably liked watching your skirt ride up on your thighs and letting him get a peek at your panties, but the man looked like he was about to bust a blood vessel for whatever reason.

Still… you weren’t too used to being rescued like he had been doing for your carelessness, but watching Kento rip off his jacket and completely abandon it on top of a vacant car letting you feast eyes on the harness fitting snugly against his back before rolling up his sleeves showing his forearms that were already firmly coiled up with his veins bulging outwards and him harshly grabbing his tie and unraveling it free of its confines so that he could wrap it around a tight fist…

Or maybe you’d get yourself into more trouble so that he’d come save you and give you that little glare that wrinkled his forehead and made his lips twitch.

No way you were horny just looking at him (then again… look at him). You chalked it up to all that adrenaline and cursed energy you were emitting outwards, while it also pumped through your veins and rushed through your blood as you finally sprinted off after him when he began to shake the blood clinging to his weapon off, your solid heels making quite a lot of noise on the pavement as you went.

You had dodged, flipped, slashed, spun, and hit your way around the curses, coming up to stand next to Kento after he sent another clean cut that split a curse into two. You took notice of the white-knuckled grip on the handle of his weapon, the grunts he had been letting out rather loudly compared to how he usually stayed rather quiet and reserved whenever fighting, the vein nearly pulsing on his temple, some blood smeared on his jawline you wanted to drag a finger across to clean, and you took notice of his body stiffening and jaw clenching harder whenever you leaned up to brush your chin across his tense shoulder.

Something was… off about him.

Unconsciously, you let your breath blow across his neck as you opened your mouth to speak, “You’re being awfully violent today,” you remarked, your chest heavy from all the stamina you had been using that made it come out more sounding like a pant.

Kento’s head only angled towards you minimally, the glare on the lenses of his glasses allowing you but a brief look into a steely glower, and the tilt letting you see his mouth twitch down further into a frown. “This is annoying,” he finally spoke, gravelly voice thick with a hard edge that was but growled out. He shifted again and slightly turned towards you, the thick cord of his bicep brushing against your breasts before he was looming over you, nearly shadowing your entire body, “And I’m being distracted.”

His cologne was strong sifting up through your nose and into your brain, the nerves already alive in your body from the adrenaline buzzing harder as you wiggled those words around in your brain. “Distracted by what?” you asked as you glanced off towards the side to see if you two were truly alone. Something in his slightly heaving chest was twisting the atmosphere between you two (as well as twisting your lower gut in an all-too familiar feeling).

He didn’t answer you right away, instead moving into your personal space to capture your full attention. Your face ended up nearly buried into his sculpted pectorals and you could hear, as well as feel, the raspy grunt leave his body whenever he jerked his arm up rather harshly and swung through another curse that had been creeping up behind you. The gurgling noise of the curse reached your ears and you peeped around your shoulder to see he had slashed another one in half again. Normally he was one of just going for the limb decapitation, but… he had been absolutely demolishing them left and right in outstanding speed and ferocity you had been having trouble keeping up with him.

The hair on your body rose whenever his hand snaked its way onto the middle of your back, easing you forward into him as you trained your eyes onto his face. You let him guide you, his hand suddenly seeming to be the only thing keeping you upright and keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground.

Kento was quiet for a brief moment until you felt him slightly leaning over to brush mouth against your ear, warm breath tickling as you felt his palm lay flat against your back, “Am I going to have to keep saving you?” His breath was suddenly hot on your skin then, your toes curling into your boots as your adrenaline-fueled body and mind was moving before you could even recognize what you were doing or inspect if he was feeling the same.

A hand of yours shot up out of nowhere as you tangled your fingers into the hair of his undercut and you pulled him harshly down into your face for a kiss. It was messy and it slightly hurt whenever you knocked your chin against his, but you were so pent up and moved by just your nerves literally being lit on fire from the thrill of a fight and your loins spiraling from how he was just being so aggressive and just so different, you couldn’t stop yourself from just getting a taste of his lips. However, even in your stupor you worried that the kiss wasn’t returned and that perhaps you misread and were being unbearably horny, but that quickly flew out the window when the hand on your back slid downwards to rest lower and pull on the fabric of your shirt.

“You said – you’re distracted –” you spoke hotly and breathily in-between smacks of fierce kisses, biting down onto his lower lip in the process, “Distracted by what – Kento?"

Kento didn’t necessarily respond at first, busy devouring your lips as much as he could in kisses consisting of saliva and smacks, a far cry from your usual chaste ones, before he was using the arm holding his weapon to cage you into him around your waist. You could feel the sword angled upright against your spine, your hip knocking into his thigh as he slid a leg forward and kicked one of your feet away so that he could slot his thigh in-between your own. It was hard, and it was tensed, the appendage already jerking up into your clothed cunt that was embarrassingly wet you noticed whenever you rolled your hips in response to his movement.

He swallowed the small moan you gave from the stimulation, jerking you harder into his stone-like abdomen and farther up on his thigh, before his mouth left yours and he trailed his saliva-covered lips across your cheek and down into the junction of your neck. He started kissing and biting there, all the while letting his arm slip down to let a hand curl fingers on your hip and guide you to grind on his thigh as the blade of his sword sat dangerously close to your ribcage.

“You want to know?” he asked in that octave that whispered sinfully deep into your ears when he had your legs thrown up over his shoulders with his cock diving into you. It was utterly nefarious, wisping across your skin and letting you know he felt the same way you did, and only burned that arousal brewing within you hotter. He continued on when your eyelashes fluttered at the tone of his voice and your spine arched into him, "Something tells me you already do."

"Mm," you started off, pressing into his hard body like you wanted to melt within the hard planes of his being, as you played with him more since he already had you figured out. You could already feel your cunt getting more soaked and the cloth of your panties growing uncomfortable the more you shamelessly grinded on his thigh in the middle of the street, the soft sighing pants leaving your mouth blowing his locks curling down onto his forehead and your fingers tangling more into his hair for retribution. You rolled harder, feeling his thigh press up more into you in retaliation before huffing out against his forehead, “Tell me and I’ll tell you why I’m so wet for you –”

You cut yourself off with a high-pitched gasp, however it was not by your own doing. Kento had taken that moment after your little breathy whisper to flex his thigh. You couldn’t help your own straining to tighten around the movement, trying to unsuccessfully meet that rhythm when he held you at bay instead.

“You,” he groaned out in desperation against your neck, a sweet kiss placed there that shattered the front he was putting. He was lifting his face back away from you after that, the furrowed brow and tensed jaw on his expression sending a hot course of pleasure into your clit as you continued a slow pursuit on his thigh and letting you leisurely drown in ecstasy the more you moved.

“Me?” you asked in a teasing tone, craning your head back further exposing the soft skin of your throat he had been fixated on beforehand. You slightly tugged his head back away from your own to expose his neck, watching his nostrils flare and face pinch up before you could feel the stare from underneath his glasses; a plea perhaps. You paid it no mind, arching your back further and pushing your heaving chest outwards for his gaze while you tried not to take notice when his eyes that were barely discernible through his glasses fell to your breasts when you did so that made you all the more excited. Instead you were kicking your foot against his like he had done before to you to bring his eyes back as you smirked that you had caught him staring, “How could I make you distracted?”

Kento tugged you back closer, your chest slanting against him as his new attitude and breathy words altered the ambiance from fighting in the air between you two to something he used whenever he was prowling after you in the bedroom. The adrenaline was still coursing through you whenever you watched his glasses slightly slide down to give you view to his dilated pupils, his hold on your back nearly startling as he leaned down closer to you, “Your carelessness, the way you’ve been steadily losing control, the way you’ve been watching me the entire time… that damn skirt I can’t stand to look at right now…” he all but groaned out that last part, eyebrows twitching and teeth gritting as his chest heaved in tune with yours and urged your hips rougher onto his thigh.

You sighed whenever your clit began to tingle from all the pleasure and the mere fact you two were doing all of that in public, the adrenaline morphing and combining your eagerness for sex to follow in on his movement, but instead to keep him at bay as the hand still holding your weapon crept along his belt and skimmed across the front of his pants that were already bulging out.

You grinned.

“You’re already hard? Have you been hard this entire time watching me? Did you like seeing every peek of my panties you could get? Did you think about just what you could do with them whenever you could get the chance? Did you think about taking them off of me and wrapping them around your cock –”

You didn’t get very far finishing the sentence, his patience and desperation clouding his actions as he leaned into your body. Perhaps chasing after what you sought, his temple pressing into yours and his lips slightly trembling as they found their way onto your ear.

“You’re distracting me,” he sighed, mouth coming closer as he heatedly spoke those words, “and it’s best we don’t do this here unless…” he trailed off for a moment, dark eyes momentarily leaving your face to glance around the area with an inquisitive look as though seeming something else caught his attention.

You, however, were intrigued, the new side of Kento something you had never really seen. Yes you had seen him somewhat agitated whenever he fought curses, but those times were nothing compared to what you had seen earlier with his ferocious movements and near unrecognizable harsh burst of cursed energy he had been emitting. You liked that look in his eyes, an icy anger and adrenaline-hazed in his pupils that grew which each passing moments and only widened the more he looked at you, but also the desperation he like displayed whenever you turned around and prowled after him. You liked the way his body seemed to be coiled up a predator about to strike down its prey for the kill.

Something was off about him… and you began to know exactly what it was.

Whether it was just him getting worked up watching you or perhaps he felt the same way you did that your date was ruined, it was clear that he was pent up with frustration.

You didn’t give him a chance to finish whatever he was going to say, tilting your head closer to him as you skimmed your lips across his in a mock tease to let his eyes return back to your face with an indescribable glint. You untangled your fingers from those blonde locks, trailing a nail down his neck as you smiled against his mouth and gave a long, slow roll onto his thigh and letting him feel the pulsing of your cunt as you did so.

“So what are you gonna do, Kento? What are you gonna do about me distracting you?”

It was a split second and your eyes widened, the sudden burst of cursed energy from him in front of you and another creature behind you raising your hackles and nearly diminishing the arousal you felt within you if it hadn’t been for Kento’s actions.

It was another hard swing of his arm, the grunt and hot breath leaving him pushed out against your mouth in a near kiss as he swung through yet another curse that had snuck up behind you in your fascination with him. You could hear the flesh split and blood splatter, slightly turning your head to peek once more as you noticed that time he had cut off the head of the curse for getting too close you. You watched dazedly as he flicked his weapon free of blood again, the hand on your back cradling you into his body smoothing down your skin in a slow caress of comfort.

You could barely stop the moan leaving you after he did it too, grinding farther up on his thigh to wet his pants and brushing your knuckles against his hard cock as you placed a kiss on his bottom lip. He didn’t grant it to you for too long however, letting his hand fall off your back before he was stepping away from you altogether but a few inches, untangling all his limbs from you and removing his glasses to place them in his pocket in the process. His tie remained wrapped tight around his fist as he rolled up his sleeves better, the thick corded muscles of his forearms bulging with the movement before he deftly unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt.

His hair was still messed up, and the blood was still smeared underneath his jaw.

God, fuck, he looked good.

Kento regarded you for a few moments as you both stared at each other with clear ravenous desire electrifying the air between you two. You nearly wanted to take a step forward to initiate it with that kiss you still wanted, but Kento was once again beating you to the punch with a long sigh that sounded so deliciously sinful and bordering on a groan it stopped you in your pursuit and dampened your panties more.

“I suppose I’ll just have to make do there since anything and everything will interrupt us out here.”

You rose a brow, “Meaning…?”

He fixed you with another leveled stare, cheeks flushing from agitation, arousal, embarrassment, you weren’t sure, but something told you it was something perhaps darker and that you were wound tight in the trap set by him. He took another breath, heavy and oh-so loud, then took one step forward and tensing up as he grew nearer once more. His lips parted as he stalked you, the words coming out shocking your nerves and burning that fire behind your naval brighter.

“Meaning… I am going to finish what you started in that alleyway behind us and fuck you."

Then without further ado, and with another remarkable show of his speed he had thrown you over his shoulder, a squeal leaving your mouth as you found yourself staring at the blue fabric of his shirt covering his back and his broad shoulder digging into your abdomen. He had picked you up with one arm, the feat of the strength he possessed always surprising you and shooting white-hot pleasure straight down into your core. A small, giggling snort left you, pressing your boobs as much as you could into his back as you felt him stiffen from the feeling and your hand ghosting down to swat at his ass in further attempts to set him off.

The eye you were able to see from his side profile made a slow shift towards you for a desperate look, the vein in his temple near throbbing and his cheeks a very bright red from all your teasing. You would’ve felt wounding him up after being pissed off from your date getting ruined, but Kento had made zero complaints that he had wanted you to stop at all. Besides, it wasn’t like it would be the first time you two did anything similar.

You spent your time staring the blue hue of his shirt and subtly slipping a finger underneath his harness to ever-so often to slap it against his taut back as he finally made way to the alley, letting you down gently and taking your weapon away from your hand to slip it onto his back along with his own. Your pussy was throbbing by then in anticipation to what he had planned, and you didn’t have to wait long when you made eye contact with him again.

And from the look in his eyes, he was going to have his way with you and fuck you in a gritty, secluded alleyway that no regular person would dare to walk down in fear of what was in the darkness.

God, it shouldn’t have been as hot as it seemed.

“Good?” he asked, nervousness painting along his features for what you had to say – or if you were to decline that time. And it didn’t take a genius to know what he was asking of you.

“Good. And you?”

“Perfect.”

It was fast as Kento’s mouth descended onto yours, his hands cradling your face in desperate kiss as you walked backwards for him to press yourself against the wall. Your shoulder blades dug into the brick of the alleyway before you felt him close in on you and curl an arm underneath your knee to lift your leg up and pin your thigh up against the wall. His hips were already digging into either side of your inner thighs, his pelvis nearly inches away from your own as your skirt finally rode up to let him feast eyes on what he wanted most in that moment. You curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you bit your lip watching him already get to work and fluttering your eyes when you realized what he was doing.

Kento wasted no time dragging a knuckle down the front of your panties, a desperate noise leaving him whenever he pressed down onto the wet material before ultimately deciding he wasn’t going to have to waste any time with you. A finger coiled underneath the lace covering your pussy, pulling it to the side, and then he was sinking a lone, thick middle finger into you and cursing under his breath whenever you moaned unabashedly loud and clenched around the appendage while shallowly rocking your hips forward onto him.

He didn’t spare you any glance, face downwards as his fingers tightened on your thigh pinning it harder into the wall it nearly left indentions while he only watched the movement of his finger leaving you and returning you and coming out more coated with your juices each time he did so. You watched his dark eyebrows angle down more, a muscle bulging out in his jaw whenever the sounds of your soaked pussy began to fill quiet alleyway before he was speaking in a condescending tone, “Why are you so wet?”

You tried to tug him closer, a ‘Mmm’ leaving you whenever he picked up the pace and added another finger that slid in way too easy and leaving him to grunt again when you enthusiastically returned that with a higher-pitched moan. However Kento stayed steady, keeping his eyes down watching himself finger you and pinning your thigh higher up on the wall as you indulged him, “You mean why am I wet after watching you act like that and when you let me ride on your thigh? God Kento, you should know how wet you get me…”

His face twisted again, a slight look up towards your face underneath his eyelashes that nearly made you shiver from how blown his pupils were before he gently pulled his fingers out of you. His fingers were absolutely drenched with you, and he was examining them for a brief moment until he returned his hand and let it skim gently across your slit with a finger tickling at your clit and slowly using the pad of his finger to begin circling it. You let out a quiet whine, fingers twisting into his shirt more as you tilted your head against wall and slowly rolled your hips in tune to his ministrations.

Suddenly his finger was gone, taking all the pleasure he had been giving you for the brief moment and he lifted his head back up to look at you with a scowl and his voice deathly calm in a murmur, “You can do better than this.”

You squirmed whenever his finger brushed by your opening again, teasing you with putting a finger in to one knuckle before pulling it away and returning to soft touches to your clit. “Just touch me please.”

Kento regarded you with a sigh, pinching your clit for the whine and giving you what you wanted. He wasn’t finished with the teasing though, spending a few more rounds alternating from curling his fingers against your walls and pulling them free whenever he felt like it, and rubbing your clit in circles as you started to turn into a moaning, drooling mess biting into his shoulder from all the stimulation. Yet every time you sighed and your eyes nearly rolled back when you felt your cunt begin to loosen with an impending orgasm, he was pulling away and leaving you hanging that had you shaking in his hold and biting harder into his shirt.

You gained another bit of clarity from your swirling haze when you felt his fingers drag excruciatingly slow in circles along your thigh he had pinned against the wall, a vibrating hum leaving his throat whenever he felt your legs begin to shake. That hand trailed up and moved to lie palm up on the wall next to your head, the other pulling away from your pussy and letting it slide in a smooth, tantalizing graze until he glided up in-between your breasts before he laid his palm flat there. You could feel the wetness of your pussy juice coating his fingers through your shirt as he gently pushed your body back off of his to lean you against the wall. He took a moment to access your conditions, and when seeing no signs of backing out he continued onwards.

Your half-lidded eyes fell on his face, watching him grow closer until he was mouthing his next words around your lips and knocking his pelvis into yours.

“Tell me what you want,” Kento huffed so heatedly into your mouth, a barely there bite to your bottom lip and a small squeeze to one of your breasts.

Your whole body was trembling, fingers twisting into his shirt and mind drunk for him as your cunt all drenched along your inner thighs and pleading to be filled by him fluttered from his sinful tone. “Please, just let me cum – touch me, Kento,” you all but begged, bratty demeanor from before all but gone.

“And why should I do that?” His voice was low, eyelashes dipping more over his dark eyes that seemed to grow brighter the more you lost your composure. His hand left your chest after that, gliding back down as he pinched at your soaked panties.

“Because… just please, I understand what I did,” you whined out, trying to kiss at his lips again but to no avail. You nearly felt like thrashing around, the want to cum and need have him inside too strong and making you lose some of your sense.

A ‘Hmm’ was breathed out around you, two pads of his fingers rubbing the fabric of your lace panties together, “You did show you could do better letting your pussy get more wet for me, but…” he slid your panties down an inch, “you need to learn to be patient,” he finally hissed out, his tone losing that calm form and coiling into that barely restrained one you heard earlier whenever you had been teasing him.

You weren’t giving up, desperate for his entire being as one hand of yours slid back into his hair and massaged the back of his skull, “I am patient! I’ll do what you want me to do, just – please.”

Kento didn’t reply to you for a moment, only a sigh leaving his mouth that sounded just as condescending as it felt before he pulled your panties down another inch with the cool air tickling your soaked lower half. “You’ll do what I want? You’ll listen and only cum when I say you can?”

You wiggled up against his chest, arching your back away from the wall and trying to get closer to him and his clothed hard cock pressing against your abdomen, “Yesyesyesyesyes, anything.”

He was getting better at it. And hadn’t broke character once.

You’d definitely reward him for it a later time.

Kento only pulled away far enough to lean down and tear your horribly drenched panties off of you with a powerful sweep on his hand, pocketing them away in his pants for safekeeping. He closed in on you faster than before, and in one easy maneuver he yanked you up into his front harder with a steel arm wrapped around your back before instructing you further with orders.

“Up.”

You jumped up rather wobbly, his hands falling to settle on your thighs in a squeeze as you wrapped them around his waist. He pushed you back against the wall to lean in and plunge another harsh kiss onto your mouth as he grounded his cock up against your naked cunt, biting at your lower lip again when you whined and pulling away to mouth at your jawline before making his way to your ear and whispering his next command against your earlobe with a biting tease.

“Undo my pants.”

You weren’t able to wait any longer, hurriedly releasing your hands from where they were holding onto him and you miraculously were able to loosen his belt free and pull him out with a teasing squeeze. You barely held in a moan when you felt him so vulnerable in your hand, a shudder leaving you when you realized he was about to put himself inside of you and from his reaction to you touching him so heavy.

Kento’s lips and teeth detached themselves from your jawline frighteningly quick, his handsome, chiseled features twisting into pleasure as he threw his head back a brief angle and let out a groan from your touch. You nearly wanted to bite down onto his Adam’s apple exposed so nicely to you, and you would’ve if he hadn’t tilted his head back down with a wild glint in his eyes and used one hand to push yours away from his cock and hold them together against your breasts. The other left your thigh as well, leaving you suspended in the air by just his strength and weight as he rose his hand palm up right under your mouth.

“Spit.”

His curt, clipped tones only served to continue and turn you on, eagerly complying to him as you rolled your tongue around in your mouth to produce more saliva until the inside was completely full of your spit. You puckered your lips afterwards and drooled a decent amount of spit into his palm as his fingers teased at the edge of your lips while you did so, your drool getting caught in the corners of your mouth and wetting your chin once you were finished. A harsh tingle found its way into your clit once more when you watched his nostrils flare at your willingness and the way you were complying to his orders so quickly, a quirk to the corner of his own lips as he pulled his hand away from your face tickling your chin and freed your wrists.

“Good girl,” he praised you once, and in a quick display of reflexes and experience he had learned with you, he reached down with one hand and coated his cock with your spit and mixed it in with his precum, letting a long grunt leave him as he threw his head back once more when he began stroking himself to completely cover his dick with the makeshift lube. His other hand curled around your nape once more, squeezing the area as he shuffled closer to you suddenly, and you felt the recognizable feeling of his hot cock rubbing up against your entire cunt.

You squirmed again, locking your arms around his neck as you lifted yourself up a bit by arching your back waiting for the inevitable. Kento grunted at your eagerness, eyes squeezing shut along with yours whenever you wiggled down more onto his bare cock as your moans mingled together with your mouths so close together whenever you felt his tip brush against your opening. Kento let out a heated huff as he guided himself more into you, his cockhead breaching inside of you while his expression twisted into one of concentration.

“Kento,” you breathe, all breathy and pleading around his lips, “Please.”

His patience had worn thin then you understood, his cock finally pushing further inside of you somewhat slowly and even with how wet you had gotten from the fingering and pussy slapping, it still was quite the fit given Kento was someone who had girth. He was so thick, so searing, it was nearly too much for you to handle even though you had taken his cock countless times before. Though he continued into you as you arched and squirmed from the stretch of him pulling your pussy walls taut, your fingers twisted at the collar of his shirt when you suddenly heard him grunt in frustration then grip your hip in a near bruising hold before shoving the rest of him inside of you in one harsh thrust.

You couldn’t help the loud moan escaping you, the red-hot heat of his cock inside of you and the nerve-tingling pleasure of your cunt squeezing him impossibly tight and shocking your body nearly unbearable for you to even handle as you finally got him inside of you.

Kento seemed to be fairing somewhat better, a hot kiss planted on your mouth when jerked himself as far as he could inside of you, and his voice so low and sinful in your face it was a wonder you weren’t gushing all over him then. “How perfect,” his breath mingled with yours once more, your noses skimming across one and another’s as you began to find it too hard to kiss him back from the coil of pleasure burning behind your naval. “It’s like you were made for me, weren’t you? You’re my girl, aren’t you?” his fingers tightened on your nape, teeth scraping against your bottom lip as he pulled a choked gasp from you with one shallow push of his hips into you.

“Only yours,” you managed in your near drunken stupor, legs shaking around his waist as he started up a slow round of thrust in a mouthwatering angle. A high-pitched moan left you when his free hand teasingly brushed across your clit once more and you rolled your hips downwards to further impale yourself onto his cock, testing his patience in the meanwhile when you heard another long exhale leave him when you bit his lip in tune to clenching up around his dick. “Only you can get me this wet and fuck me like this.”

Perhaps… you should’ve backed off with the tempting words.

Kento was still for a moment before he shifted your higher up against the wall to where his mouth had access to your neck, his breath hot in puffs against it once he got there and with one bite into the junction between your shoulder and neck, he spoke his last command for the time being.

“Lock your ankles.”

Oh, God.

You fluttered your eyelashes at his request, a squirm of excitement tingling down into your pussy as the words nearly made you cum and you unabashedly whimpered in his ear after he growled them out into your throat, your booted feet accompanied with heels locking around his body and letting the dull edge of your heels press into the delicious dip of his lower back.

Better hold on tight.

He pulled out of you slowly one last time and let his tip glide up across your slit and clit before he was burying himself into your cunt with a quick, snap of his hips. The press of him against your sweet spot was harsher that time and the stretch better as it ended up letting you give out a breathless moan, your chest beginning to heave with pants and whines when he set an unforgiving and powerful pace. A pace that sent you spiraling back down into the path of a release that did as much for you as it did for him, the pulsing and fire inside of you raging as he continued to pound away at you.

Your gasps and whines began to line up to the rhythm of his harsh thrusts, your chin coming down to fall onto his shoulder once more as you bit and mouthed away at this shirt to try keep yourself grounded. You rocked your hips as best as you could, trying to incite him into fucking you harder and faster all the while chasing that pressure behind your naval that grew heavier and bigger the more he rapidly entered and left you. You wanted to hear more of his noises, the slight low grunts he was giving not enough as your fingers twisted harder and you let your nails dig into his nape. You wanted him to lose himself in the fitted wetness that was your cunt.

Kento busied himself to kissing and biting along the column of your throat, bouncing you harder as your back began to slide up and down the brick wall behind you and rub your skin through your shirt. You paid it no mind (he’d probably curse himself later as he tended to skin of your back in a bath), too caught up in the rough thrusting as you instead took notice of the steel cold of his belt buckle rubbing into your thigh on one side and the leather of it rubbing onto your other. His groan was muffled into your neck when you squeezed your thighs tighter.

You parted off from sucking on his shoulder with another hair-raising moan, angling your head far back enough so that the back of your skull was knocking against the brick, “Fuck –” your eyes nearly rolled back when his grip on you turned bruising and your tightened at the thought bruises being left behind. Your words came out in the rhythm of each hard thrust, the breath of you getting knocked out each time he quickly entered you and slammed up into your cunt. “I – love – it – when you – get – rough – it feels – so fucking – good!”

Your breathy little admission and the louder and filthier your mouth got earned you the noisy groan you had been wanting, that one hand releasing your hip to slam into the wall beyond you, that you swore nearly shattered the brick, and the other one leaving your nape to trail two fingers along your jawline until he was diving them into the hot expanse of your mouth. Kento pressed his two fingers down onto your tongue, an unspoken word for you to suck on them, and you did so greedily. You could feel your pussy tightening up along with that coil in your abdomen, the warning from earlier not to cum until he told blaring out in your mind before you shoved it away and fell towards your own pleasure.

The smacks you were hearing was both of your skin damp with sweat slapping against each other with every thrust he made and straining you were able to hear the slippery sounds of your cunt getting horribly wrecked. You moaned around his fingers when he grunted harshly into your neck, your head lulling to right and –

You nearly froze, the hair rising on your neck as you took notice of the curse hobbling along towards the both of you with a curious tilt to its head and another slight step of a sound caused you to move your head around to stare at the one approaching Kento from behind. Fear struck you for short moments, your eyes widening and body tensing up as you made a noise complaint around his fingers trying to get his attention that you two were not alone anymore. Though as Kento said before with you distracting him, he almost didn’t take notice and you almost reached around to grab your weapon to swing at one if Kento hadn’t already beat you to the punch.

“Ken –"

The curse to right of you took one step too close and you watched oh-so fascinatingly and so goddamn aroused when Kento’s fingers in your mouth left abruptly with drool stuck to them and caught the curse by its neck, his hand and forearm corded with thick veins bulging outwards in a display of raw strength before he twisted the neck of the curse around and smashed its head into the wall until it exploded in a smog of purple. He was quick again when you heard another annoyed grunt leave him and the hand on the wall disappeared and he reached behind for his blade, and with one clean sweep behind his back without even looking, dislodging the head of the curse with a harsh thrust up into your sopping cunt.

He had done all of that… without looking… with his face buried in your neck… and with him still fucking you…

You couldn’t help it, you came right then and there, so unbelievably turned on that he had done that so aggressively and without even stopping his momentum.

Your nails had made their way scratching down his back through his shirt as you rode out the entirety of your intense orgasm. You were glad Kento had returned his hand from where he had beat that curse against the wall to wrap back around your waist because you were sure you would’ve fallen apart onto the ground with how you finally came down from the euphoria and your limbs all but felt useless to you. He had continued to fuck you through the rushing release, your mind content to allow him to do so since you were all caught up with trying to calm your racing heart down along with your erratic breathing.

For that you heard him grunt and pull his hand away from your back as did his thrusting coming to a stop once he felt your thighs jerking around his waist. You wondered why he stopped as you blinked yourself out of the drunken-like haze that was your paradise; you may have been a little muddled from the way he made you cum but you knew he hadn’t cummed then. You got your answer when he pulled back from you and let you lie your back more against the wall, his dark eyes briefly watching your chest move with your fast breathing before rising back to your lusted-out expression. He waited until you weren’t breathing as hard and then his hands were falling back to grasp both your hips after returning his weapon to his back, his voice deadly calm as he regarded you.

“Did you just cum?”

You rolled your shoulders, sighing whenever he rose a dark eyebrow and waited for you to explain yourself, “Mmm, yes, just – keep going –”

He cut you off, a dumbfounded expression on his face as his eyes darted around your face, “Are you sure…?”

You wanted to sigh. So much for not breaking character. You indulged him with a breathy noise, tightening your thighs around his waist and flexing your cunt around his cock, “Yes, now – keep going… Be mean and… y’know. Unless I have to do all the work again…” you trailed off, a mischievous ploy in your words you hoped spurred him on.

His fingers tightened up on your hips, feeling your cunt flutter around him once more as his jaw clenched. And somehow, you found yourself on your feet confused for a moment… Like he’d moved too fast for you to actually follow…

“Um…” And it was a brief few seconds before your mind caught up with your body.

Kento had pulled himself out of you and gently dropped you to stand level on the ground. You let out an indignant noise in response before trying to find your way back onto his cock, but in another display of his strength he had turned you around, your chest and cheek pressed against the brick and your hands lying flat against it as well. Your back ended up bent in that position as he pulled your hips back into and you were bouncing on his awaiting cock once more. The new position had you moaning louder, his own hissing exhale from how deep he went in and slid in so easily from how wet you were following right behind you as he started up a pace.

There was no chance to gather your thoughts, Kento’s behavior was bordering on losing control as he pressed his weight onto you and pinned you hard to the wall. His mouth found its way to your ear again, breath hot in your ear as he started off his depraved words for you and you alone to hear.

“It was your loud mouth that attracted their attention,” he gravelly started, one hand on your hip leaving as two fingers found your swollen and sensitive clit, “What is it? Can’t even keep yourself quiet even when you got something in your mouth? Or was it you couldn’t find the words to tell me you wanted to cum?”

You couldn’t form an answer to that, too engrossed with the pleasure he was giving you into your still sensitive and gushing cunt while simultaneously rubbing away at your clit in a fast pace. What you managed was a whining noise, fucking back onto his cock as his fingers slowed down on your clit and held off your new rapidly approaching orgasm. You nearly wanted to cry out in frustration from his ridiculous self-control, yet you were branching out on another cry whenever his fingers molded themselves into your hips with a quick pull backwards onto his cock.

You squealed, pressing your breasts harder into the wall as he started back up into your ear again. "Focus. Tell me what you want.”

“I want – mmm God, I want –”

He squeezed your hips, his own smacking loudly against your ass before a thumb found its way into your mouth and his teeth latched onto your earlobe before repeating himself again, “Say it. Tell me how much you want me to cum inside of you. Tell me how much you want me to cum and how you’ll barely be able to hold it inside of you. Tell me you want me to fuck my cum into you. Tell me how much you want to be a good girl for me.”

He was commanding you then, your eyes squeezing shut in tune to how your pussy clenched around him to his sinful words. The cutting edge to them told you that he was leaving you no room to even try and escape from answering him, your toes curling inside of your boots when he picked up his thrusts and huffed heatedly against your cheek.

Your whines were airy, face feeling flustered as you heeded his order, “Please, Kento, I’ll do anything – I want you to cum inside of me so bad –”

You cut yourself off when his fingers left your clit, thinking perhaps he was giving you what you wanted until that hand came down onto your ass in a resounding slap. You lurched forward from it, biting your lip trying to muffle a load moan as your pussy gushed more around his cock and the slippery sounds of your two’s debauchery grew louder in the alleyway. Your body felt like mush then, legs shaking under his form as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

“More.”

You could nearly feel the exasperated tears well up in your eyes, nails scratching at the brick and legs spreading wider for him as he bent your body down further and his fingers found your clit once more. Kento started up his teasing circles, chest heaving into your back as you tried once more in a shaky voice to appease his commands, “I want you to ruin me, fuck me dumb like a slut and can only think of you.”

You could feel his brow furrow against the side of your face, sweat lining in with yours as his hips picked up in a dangerous smacking with his balls following in pursuit to slapping into your pussy and clit as his fingers picked up the speed on your clit. Your eyes nearly rolled when you felt yourself falling back into your second release, gasping moans leaving your parched mouth as he grew desperate and started groan into your cheek. It spurned you on, you wanted to push him further to get him to act out more.

“I want you to fuck me so hard and cum in me so much there’s no way that I’m not pregnant. Come on, Kento –” you broke off in a heated moan, sweaty forehead grinding into the brick as you continued to babble whatever he possibly wanted to hear to get him and yourself to cum. "Fuck me till I'm pregnant – please – cum in me as much as you want until your baby's in me –"

His fingers pushed harder onto your clit, a white-hot burst behind your eyelids as you felt him teeter into a breakneck speed into your cunt. It nearly stopped you from getting the rest of your sentence out, but you managed to gasp it out you finally entered the throes of your second orgasm.

You couldn’t take it.

His fingers felt too good on your swollen clit, his cock so fucking hot and thick inside of you as it jutted into your deepest region, everything just fucking smelling like him, your brain churning into pure depravity as you listened to him groan and grunt as he increased his pace, your lower abdomen pulling and stretching out so far, and holy fucking shit –

You were sure what you garbled out was a variation of his name, but you weren’t too sure considering you were preoccupied trying not to pass out.

You were definitely sure then if he hadn’t kept a firm hold of your hips you would’ve collapsed and slid down the wall and onto the ground from how bad your legs were shaking. You didn’t necessarily care either when you felt a small dab drool escape your mouth around his thumb as you were too busy fighting off the aftershocks of your orgasm. That one was the most intense; your world – and your cunt – bursting like a champagne bottle when struck your entire body like a lightning strike. If you weren’t so needy to hear him cum you would’ve let your mind fall deep into the endorphins being given to you and tickling your body all the way down to your toes, your muscles and bones feeling like they had been liquefied and going numb.

The way he was still fucking you was on the frontlines of your thoughts, your body bouncing back and forth from the tenacity of his thrusts as your insides constricted and throbbed around him to help meet his own end. You didn’t have to wait long though as the mere feeling of you cumming around his cock pushed him over the edge, both hands on your hips tugging you backwards for one fierce thrust to let himself find your deepest point in the hot, mind-blowing pleasure that was your cunt and meet his end.

“Fuck!”

His body twitched behind you as his hands dug deeper into your flesh before he started to erratically jerk inside of you in slower strokes as his cum spurted out of him. Your eyes spun back and you moaned again when you felt the warm spurts of his cum shoot inside of your awaiting cunt and literally stuff you full to point you were sure you wouldn’t be able hold all of his cum within you. It nearly felt as if he never was going to stop, the new heat in your pussy sliding down throughout the inside of you. You could feel from the thick girth of the liquid passing through your cervix and into your wombs as Kento’s hips rocked slowly with each new spray into you until finally he came to a full stop with his cock sitting snugly inside of you to hold all of his cum in your cunt for the time being.

It was a few moments more longer as you both gathered your breath and bearings before he was slowly sliding out of you, his hands releasing you after one final squeeze and gliding across your ass, then completely leaving your body. After that he was spinning you around, hands finding your cheeks to angle your face towards him as he let his eyes roll over inch of your face and body.

“Are you alright?” Kento finally asked, voice still slightly breathy and face still flushed. His hair was even more messed up than before, his shirt wrinkled and you noticed his tie was still wrapped around his fist. He had tucked himself back into his pants and in those few moments you had been shaking against the wall, and you wiggled whenever you blinked into more clarity and he was pulling your skirt back down to shield your modesty.

You grinned dopily up at him, leaning further into him as you stuck your nose into his collarbone, “I’ve never felt better.”

“I didn’t hurt you?” he questioned again, a tilt of concern in his voice whenever you nearly stumbled into him.

“Absolutely not,” you mumbled and wrapping your arms around his waist for a hug, “I would’ve told you if you did.”

He sighed wrapping an arm around your waist and checking his watch whenever he noticed the sun beginning to set, “The Farmer’s Market is probably over by now.” Why did he sound somewhat melancholic?

(Of course, leave it to Nanami Kento to be upset he couldn't go to the Farmer's Market anymore after getting some pussy.)

You rolled your head upwards to study his face, an eyebrow cocking as he looked devilishly handsome in the oncoming sunset, “Are you still worried about that?”

Kento looked back to you, eyebrows knitting together as he started to walk you both of out the alley, “I’m only saying that because you were the one whining whenever I dropped the basket.”

“You didn’t drop it, you slapped a curse with it and then threw it at another one. Besides… not too worried about it since I got something else in the end.”

“Hmm.”

“C’mon, you know you liked it too. Especially when I told you to put –”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Especially since I’m not done with you yet.”

“What. I can barely feel my legs.”

“I know, and after I find my jacket and we report what happened to the school we’re going home where I’m, as you said, ‘putting another baby in you’.”

“Ugh, whatever, but since you get your jacket can I have my panties back, you freak.”

“No. They’re mine.”

“No way you’re gonna make me walk around with no panties on…”

“I am and –”

He slapped your ass again, causing you to jolt and squeal as he leant down and whispered in your ear again as you laughed.

“A single drop of me better not come out of you until we get home.”

#{🩸} nee fics #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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servantofthefates · 1 year ago

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21 Advanced Techniques for Reading Tarot Accurately

Some of my YouTube subscribers comment on how my readings are always to the point. How I never need to pause before interpreting a spread or a card. Maybe it's the two decades of reading. Maybe it runs in the family. Maybe I peek at the cards and rehearse before I start recording. (LOL Who has the time?) Or maybe it's just because I know all these techniques by heart. Hope they help you too.

Learn to interpret synchronicities

Learn 10 ways of reading a spread

Learn to avoid blanking when reading

Learn the right meaning to use each time

Learn to interpret tarot cards literally

Learn to read for yourself objectively

Learn to interpret in a personal way

Learn the importance of the card underneath

Learn to read suits in unconventional contexts

Learn to read reversals the right way

Learn the difference: advice vs. outcome

Learn the meaning of The Fool’s Journey

Learn how to predict timing reliably

Learn to interpret physical appearance

Learn the meanings of tarot’s colors

Learn the meanings of tarot’s numbers

Learn to determine locations with tarot

Learn traditional ways of dealing the cards

Learn how to deal with rouge cards

Learn to earn the trust of your tarot decks

Learn to properly close a tarot reading

#Tarot #Tarot tips #Witch tips #Witchblr #servantofthefates #Tarot meanings #Divination #Fortunetelling #All About Tarot

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yuulettte · 10 months ago

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"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫?!"

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

✰ Tags: gn!reader x various JJK men, fluff, reader has a cold oh NOOOO!!, sfw, just sugary sweet

✰Characters: Gojo, Yuta, Yuji, Geto, Megumi, Nanami

✰ A/N: I tested positive for covid so I decided to be self indulgent.. First time writing hcs for most of these boys ( �� ▽ ` ) I apologize in advance

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You tell him not to come near you out of habit, but he reminds you about his limitless technique! Can germs touch him? Who knows~

Long movie watching sessions, he'll buy you whatever you want to eat. Shoko told him to make sure you're hydrated, so he might force you to drink. Good luck!

Still manages to make you laugh with his antics. He'll wave his hands over you, using that eccentric tone, "Get better~ get better~!" as if it'll magically heal you

One time you catch him reading articles online on how to take care of a sick partner. The expression on his face is that of pure focus

He eventually gets fed up and says something about how 'the strongest never gets sick!' And thus turns off his technique to cuddle with you. He catches your cold the next day LOL

Guess even the strongest isn't immune to flu season

𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐎𝐤𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Attentive in every way. Is absolutely unafraid of getting sick. He always ends up catching whatever bug you have because he takes care of you no matter what

Runs you warm baths. He'll help you wash, dry your hair, and get dressed.

Rubs your back if you're feeling unwell, even when you're not sick ( ´ ▽ ` )

"What do you need? I'll go get it for you. Is there a dish you'd like for me to cook?"

He's an insanely good care taker (no surprise)

Has a habit of buying you plushies whenever you get sick, so your bed is over taken by them after a few years of dating. It's an army.. Or so you call it!

Will give you that sad puppy look if you refuse to let him hold you, even if it's out of love. He just wants to make you feel better

Doesn't let anyone else enter the house unless it's your family, he's your boyfriend and so it's his responsibility to take care of you! (he's protective)

𝐘𝐮𝐣𝐢 𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Will show up at your place with a bag full of medicine and goodies

Also doesn't care about catching whatever you have.

"I've got a super good immune system, so it's no problem!"

It's true too, what takes you a week to get over he'll tank in two days. It's actually kinda scary

He'll do whatever he can to make you laugh. And if you can't, then he'll comfort you

You'll have video game tournaments in your bed, and by the end he's always curled around you like a guard dog. The both of you fall asleep like that often

He'll wipe the sweat from your forehead and give you a cooling pad when you wake up as an apology :'D

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He's not very good with germs, so he might keep his distance if you have a nasty virus

He still really cares! Just may approach you with a mask and some anti bacterial

Lots of praise. Reminds you that it'll be okay, you'll feel better soon and he'll make sure of it

"You'll feel better soon my love, don't worry. Just drink this,"

He'll sooth you with his voice to help you fall asleep.

Like Satoru, he'll ask Shoko for advice on how to care for you. He takes to it more naturally, though. It's the dad vibes! Care taking is in his DNA

You find yourself getting sick way less often when spending tons of time with him. He just has that sort of aura?

𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Not the most emotionally attentive, but he'll come over and bring magazines/books for you to read and some medicine

Will sit with you in silence. He doesn't want you to hurt your throat from forcing yourself to talk

If you'd like, he'll summon his shadow dogs for you to cuddle with. He'd do it himself but he doesn't want you to feel sweaty

He's surprisingly strict about what you eat. It has to be homemade and full of nutrients

He cooks recipes that Tsumiki taught him for you ✧ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ ) they're delicious!

Even if he doesn't show it outwardly, he's honestly extremely worried. He wants you to get better as soon as possible!

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He takes time off work, you're his number one priority. He WILL be the one nursing you back to health

Husband material. He knows all of your favorite sick foods and most effective medications

Firm about you getting rest. "Please, allow me honey," and it's you literally reaching for a cup of water

He cooks meals that are easy on your stomach. Took the time to educate himself on what vitamins to give you

Will likely also catch your sicky, but he honestly doesn't mind because that means more time off with you.

The two of you will be wrapped around each other in bed while he reads to you, both with wet towels on your foreheads <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 3 months ago

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This isn’t immediately relevant to me, I was just curious. I’ve seen people talking about how pubic hair doesn’t make you unhygienic or less clean, and for the most part I agree. However, I started shaving mine bc of periods, as the blood gets everywhere and pulls my pubic hair, which sucks to clean. I don’t have periods anymore, but I was just wondering if it actually contradicts the “not unhygienic” part or if I was just doing something wrong? I can’t imagine that having dried blood near your genitals is… clean

I am going to run a concept by you called "bathing" and the more advanced technique "washing your pubic hair"

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jadeshifting · 4 months ago

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— A GUIDE TO CLASSES AT EVER AFTER HIGH.

MYTHOLOGY. taught by Mrs. Psyche

this class delves into the legendary tales and divine histories of various magical realms, exploring the origins, powers, and legacies of gods, mythical creatures, and legendary heroes. Mrs. Psyche, an expert in ancient lore and celestial wisdom, guides students through epic sagas, divine rivalries, and the cultural significance of myths across Ever After. expect interactive lessons, dramatic reenactments, and the occasional visit from an actual deity if you’re lucky—or very unlucky

HOMEWORK. expect essays on the morals and hidden meanings in classic myths, plus creative assignments like rewriting a legend with a modern twist PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. show curiosity about myths from all cultures and always be respectful of love deities—Mrs. Psyche takes their stories very seriously AVOID MISHAPS. don’t mix up gods from different pantheons in your presentations—calling Zeus “a Norse deity” is a one-way ticket to an exasperated sigh

KINGDOM MANAGEMENT. taught by Mrs. Her Majesty, the White Queen

future rulers, nobles, and aspiring leaders learn the ins and outs of running a kingdom, from diplomacy and lawmaking to organizing grand balls and handling royal scandals. the White Queen, known for her composed yet commanding leadership, teaches strategy, ethics, and governance through real-world scenarios, often incorporating Wonderlandian logic puzzles to test students’ problem-solving skills under pressure

HOMEWORK. drafting decrees, designing economic policies, and writing conflict resolution strategies fit for ruling a kingdom PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. always address her formally, take notes in impeccable script, and never question the importance of royal protocol AVOID MISHAPS. never suggest solving political disputes with a sword—she insists that diplomacy, not duels, is the mark of a true ruler

ADVANCED ELFONOMICS. taught by the esteemed Fairy Queen

this elite course teaches students the intricate financial magic behind running a kingdom, from managing enchanted trade routes to understanding the unpredictable fluctuations of the golden bean stock market. the Fairy Queen, with her keen business acumen and ancient fae wisdom, ensures her students master the art of wealth accumulation, resource allocation, and the occasional negotiation with mischievous leprechauns

HOMEWORK. balancing enchanted budgets, predicting market trends in fairy-tale economies, and occasional field trips to enchanted banks filled with gold PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. keep your calculations accurate and your economic theories sound—Fairy Godmother investments rely on precision, not guesswork AVOID MISHAPS. don’t accept enchanted gold from leprechauns or trickster fairies—it will vanish overnight, and your grade will disappear with it

GRIMMNASTICS. taught by Coach Gingerbreadman

a fast-paced, action-packed class that combines acrobatics, endurance, and skills fit for any fairytale hero or heroine. with Coach Gingerbreadman’s lightning-fast speed and high-energy training style, students practice enchanted obstacle courses, daring escapes, and storybook stunts that would make even the most daring adventurer sweat. the class focuses on developing strength, flexibility, coordination, and agility, blending magical elements with traditional gymnastics techniques

HOMEWORK. none! ( whew ) but in class, expect daily obstacle courses, tower-climbing drills, and team challenges that involve fleeing from imaginary witches PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. keep up, move fast, and don’t complain—Coach G is all about agility and endurance, and he does’t slow down. ever AVOID MISHAPS. never eat anything left unattended in the gym—there’s a 50/50 chance it’s either an energy-boosting enchanted snack or a curse-laced trick. you never know!

CHEMYTHSTRY. taught by Professor Rumplestiltskin

a mix of potions, alchemy, and enchanted chemistry, this course teaches students how to brew everything from love potions to transformation elixirs—if they can handle Professor Rumplestiltskin’s cryptic riddles and tricky assignments. with an emphasis on magical reactions and the delicate balance of ingredients, students must be precise, or they may find themselves accidentally cursed or turned into gold

HOMEWORK. brewing potions, analyzing alchemical reactions, and testing the properties of enchanted elements PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. follow instructions to the letter—Rumplestiltskin loves precision and has a zero-tolerance patience for careless spell-mixing AVOID MISHAPS. never, under any circumstances, agree to any kind of “trade” with the professor in exchange for an easier assignment. it’s not worth it, trust me

DAMSEL - IN - DISTRESSING CLASS. taught by Madam Maid Marian

a staple for traditional storybook heroines, this class teaches the fine art of swooning at the right moment, perfecting the helpless-yet-charming gaze, and calling for help in a voice that carries across enchanted forests. Madam Maid Marian ensures her students master the delicate balance between appearing vulnerable while subtly manipulating the situation to their advantage—because even the most distressed damsels know how to work a fairytale in their favor

HOMEWORK. practicing swooning, perfecting a well-timed gasp, and composing letters of woe to imaginary rescuers PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. always act appropriately dramatic when learning proper distress techniques—anything less than peak theatrics is disappointing AVOID MISHAPS. don’t accidentally outshine the prince in a rescue simulation—nothing gets you on her bad side faster than saving yourself ( no matter how blitheringly useless your rescuer may be )

CREATIVE STORYTELLING. taught by Professor Jack B. Nimble

in this dynamic and expressive class, students learn how to craft compelling narratives, whether for written tales, theatrical performances, or enchanting oral traditions. Professor Jack B. Nimble, known for his quick wit and lively teaching style, encourages students to think outside the storybook and experiment with different genres, endings, and perspectives, ensuring their own tales are just as spellbinding as the ones that came before them

HOMEWORK. writing fairytales with unexpected endings, crafting riddles, and creating engaging oral stories to be performed in class PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. be witty, be original, and never deliver a boring story—Professor Jack lives for quick thinking and clever twists ( students still whisper about the time he literally fell asleep in the middle of a student’s story ) AVOID MISHAPS. avoid clichés at all costs—it says in the syllabus that if he hears “once upon a time” too often, he might jump out the window in protest

ADVANCED VILLAINY. taught by Mr. Badwolf

for those embracing their darker destinies ( or just wanting to understand the mind of a villain—it’s an elective, too ) this class explores the art of scheming, deception, and tactical villainy. Mr. Badwolf, with his menacing charm and years of experience causing trouble, teaches students how to craft masterful monologues, execute dramatic entrances, and plan foolproof plots—complete with an emphasis on avoiding the classic pitfalls that lead to a villain’s downfall

HOMEWORK. devising foolproof villainous schemes and identifying weak points in heroic plans. bonus points for sabotaging another student’s assignment PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. show ambition, strategy, and more than a little bit of wicked flair—Mr. Badwolf respects students who think like masterminds AVOID MISHAPS. don't act heroic in class—while he tolerates reform-minded students, he won’t hesitate to assign extra homework as punishment if he feels anyone's too generous or kindhearted

FASHION DESIGN. taught by Mrs. Fairy Godmother

a dream-come-true class for aspiring designers, where students learn to craft magical ensembles, enchant fabrics, and create garments that are both stylish and spellbinding. with Mrs. Fairy Godmother’s expertise in transformation magic, students practice stitching together gowns that change color at midnight, boots that walk on air, and accessories infused with fairy dust. bonus points for those who can design an outfit fit for a royal ball and an epic quest. the class blends traditional design principles with a touch of enchantment, encouraging students to create outfits that reflect their unique personalities and tell their own fairy tales

HOMEWORK. creating mood boards, sketching outfits, and crafting magical garments with enchanted fabrics PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. always keep your workspace neat and clean, and your designs fabulous—Mrs. Fairy Godmother has high standards for both AVOID MISHAPS. never leave unfinished projects unattended—one rogue swish of a wand, and your dress might sprout wings or turn into a pumpkin

BEAST TRAINING & CARE. taught by Professor Poppa Bear

from training fire-breathing dragons to taming mischievous talking mice, this class prepares students for handling all manner of enchanted creatures. with his warm but no-nonsense approach, Professor Poppa Bear teaches students how to communicate with beasts, provide proper magical care, and even ride or befriend some of Ever After’s most fearsome ( or snuggly ) creatures. the class emphasizes the importance of empathy, respect, and responsible stewardship when interacting with enchanted beings

HOMEWORK. taking notes on enchanted creature encounters you have outside of class, studying their habitats, and practicing magical grooming techniques. assignments are much easier for students who have their own mystic beast as a pet PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. be patient, compassionate, and firm—Professor Poppa Bear believes good beast tamers must balance kindness with authority, and he won't hesitate to crack down on students he feels aren't being tolerant and kind with the creatures AVOID MISHAPS. always double-check what you're feeding the creatures—accidentally giving a griffin a fire-breathing potion will not end well

CROWNCULUS. taught by Mrs. Her Majesty, the White Queen

a blend of advanced mathematics and royal economics, this class teaches students how to manage kingdom finances, calculate treasure values, and strategize for economic prosperity. the White Queen ensures that students grasp complex numerical concepts while also understanding the practical application of numbers in ruling a kingdom, proving that math isn’t just about numbers—it’s about power and magic, too

HOMEWORK. solving royal tax equations, balancing enchanted budgets, and calculating castle construction costs PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. always show your work neatly on your notes, respect the logic of numbers, and never bring chaos into her perfectly ordered classroom. loose fairy dust or torn paper is a one-way ticket to getting sent out to the hallway AVOID MISHAPS. never argue that "magic can just fix the math"—that’s a fast track to an exasperated glare and extra equations ( though she'll pretend you were chosen at random for them )

ADVANCED WOOING. taught by Dr. King Charming

whether it’s serenading a princess from a castle tower or sweeping a prince off his feet at a royal ball, this class covers the fine art of courtship. Dr. King Charming, an expert in chivalry and romance, teaches students how to compose love letters, master ballroom etiquette, and perfect the dramatic, wind-blown hair flip. special guest lectures from famed love interests ensure students are well-versed in only the most effective wooing techniques ever after

HOMEWORK. writing needlessly lengthy sonnets, practicing your dramatic entrance, and perfecting grand romantic gestures PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. exude confidence, use flowery language, and always demonstrate princely manners—Dr. Charming believes wooing is an art, and it helps if you act with decorum even outside of tests and assignments AVOID MISHAPS. don’t mix up your love letters—accidentally delivering the wrong one can lead to legendary levels of fairytale drama ( Dr. Charming won't admit how he knows, but he seems suspiciously adamant on it )

COOKING CLASS - IC. taught by Professor Momma Bear

a cozy yet rigorous class where students learn everything from baking enchanted pastries to brewing hearty, storybook-worthy stews. Professor Momma Bear, warm but strict, teaches students the magic of home-cooked meals and how to avoid common culinary disasters—like accidentally putting a sleeping spell in the soup ( more common than you’d think. shocking, i know. ) bonus points for anyone who can craft a meal fit for both a royal banquet and a humble woodland picnic

HOMEWORK. baking enchanted pastries, perfecting porridge temperatures, and learning potion-infused cooking in the communal kitchens—they're open late at night, which is when lots of students do their best work PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. follow the recipe to a T, respect the kitchen space, and always clean up after yourself—Professor Momma Bear runs a strict but cozy classroom, and surfaces need to be crumb-free for that to happen AVOID MISHAPS. never leave the oven unattended—one careless mistake and your muffins might gain sentience ( or explode )

DARK SORCERY. taught by Baba Yaga

for those required to ( or foolish enough to ) dabble in the shadows, this class explores the ancient and forbidden arts of dark magic. Baba Yaga, cryptic and terrifyingly wise, teaches students the ethics of wielding power, the risks of curses and hexes, and how to summon forces beyond mortal comprehension—strictly for academic purposes… of course. students who can keep up with her demanding lessons will most certainly find themselves walking the fine line between greatness and peril, just as intended

HOMEWORK. expect assignments on hexes, shadow magic, and extremely ethically questionable but highly effective spellcasting techniques PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. be respectful, but not a suck up... listen carefully, but don't hang onto her every word... and never waste her time—Baba Yaga is a fickle old witch who does not tolerate foolishness AVOID MISHAPS. don’t touch any of the professor’s personal artifacts—one single misstep, and you might find yourself cursed for a week ( or a lifetime )

WOODSHOP. taught by Mr. Geppetto

in this hands-on class, students learn the craftsmanship of enchanted carpentry, from crafting magical furniture to carving living marionettes ( though talking puppets are strictly optional. ) taught by the legendary woodcarver Geppetto, the course emphasizes precision, patience, and the importance of working with enchanted materials—because nobody wants a table that turns into a frog mid-banquet

HOMEWORK. crafting intricate wooden figures, repairing broken fairytale objects, and designing enchanted furniture to be presented to the class while Geppetto ooh-s and aah-s encouragingly and inspects it from every angle PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. pay attention to detail, measure at least twice before cutting, and never be careless with your tools ( wouldn't wanna lose a finger... or more ) AVOID MISHAPS. never bring anything to life by accident—Mr. Geppetto still has opinions about unexpected animated puppets, most of them aren't as perfect as his

DEBATE. taught by Mrs. Her Majesty, the White Queen

a battle of wits, logic, and eloquence, this class teaches students how to construct compelling arguments, navigate royal negotiations, and win verbal duels with precision. The White Queen is a master of both reason and Wonderlandian riddles, and she ensures her students can debate everything from kingdom policies to whether a dragon’s hoard should be considered taxable income. though, of course, you always have to shake your opponents hand before and after a debate—and sometimes halfway through, too ( “debate is nothing without decorum, dears” the teacher chirps. )

HOMEWORK. researching historical disputes, and crafting persuasive speeches and arguments to perform in class PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. speak clearly, argue with logic, and maintain perfect etiquette—she values reason and refinement above all else. a perfectly crafted argument could be given zero-sum marks if you use foul language while presenting it AVOID MISHAPS. don’t descend into nonsense logic—Mrs. Her Majesty and the subject of debate as a whole has no room for "because I said so" as a defense

GEOGRAFAIRY. taught by Professor Jack B. Nimble

a whirlwind tour that covers every enchanted land, hidden kingdom, and magical realm, this class ensures students can navigate their way through both real and mythical landscapes. Mr. Jack B. Nimble, quick on his feet and sharp in his knowledge, teaches students how to read enchanted maps, locate legendary landmarks, and survive the treacherous terrains of places like the Swamps of Sorrow or the shifting sands of the Ever After Desert

HOMEWORK. memorizing magical trade routes, mapping enchanted forests, and planning efficient royal journeys, especially for high-stakes travel like royal carriages or valuable trade stocks PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. stay sharp, think fast, and always be ready for pop quizzes—Professor Jack moves just as quickly as his name suggests AVOID MISHAPS. don't mistake one enchanted swamp for another—some have quicksand, others have talking alligators, and both will fail you the test

DRAGON SLAYING. taught by Dr. King Charming

an action-packed course for aspiring heroes and knights, this class covers everything from identifying dragon species to the safest techniques for confronting ( or befriending ) them. Dr. King Charming, ever the gallant warrior, teaches battle tactics, shieldwork, and the art of delivering a victorious speech while standing atop a defeated beast. students are encouraged to find creative, non-lethal ways to deal with dragons—because a slayed dragon often makes for a very angry dragon mother ( you don’t wanna deal with one of those )

HOMEWORK. designing battle strategies, practicing swordplay ( safely and with supervision ), and studying legendary dragon encounters PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. be courageous ( he hates students who cower ) and cultivate a healthy respect for dragonkind—Dr. Charming does not tolerate arrogance or killing out of malice AVOID MISHAPS. never mistake a friendly dragon for a feral one—Dr. Charming is not amused by unnecessary heroics or violence without reason

RIDDLING. taught by Professor Sphinx

a brain-twisting class that challenges students to master the art of riddles, trick questions, and mind-bending wordplay. Professor Sphinx, with her cryptic wisdom and smug amusement, pushes students to think in loops, uncover hidden meanings, and craft riddles so clever that they impress even her. only those with quick wits and sharper tongues will excel. there’s a silent booth tucked into the back of class where students can take solace in five minute time-outs if they get a riddle-induced brain-ache

HOMEWORK. solving some of the most famous and ancient riddles from fairytale history, crafting the trickiest trick questions, and debating paradoxes ( there has to be some end ) ( spoiler alert: there isn't ) PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. think outside the box and embrace the art of wordplay, she appreciates students who attempt to match her riddlish intellect ( though they never fully can. ) never give an obvious answer—she doesn't tolerate laziness AVOID MISHAPS. don't answer a riddle too quickly—Professor Sphinx loves watching students squirm in confusion, she'll snap if you think one is "too easy"

POISON FRUIT THEORY. taught by Mr. Henchman

a darkly fascinating course that delves into the study of enchanted produce, venomous flora, and the alchemy of cursed concoctions. Mr. Henchman, an expert in apple-related treachery from first-hand witnessing, ( and doing most of the dirty work himself shhhh ) teaches students how to identify, craft, and counteract, certain poisons—purely for academic purposes… of course. only the most careful and exceedingly precise students avoid an accidental nap at some point

HOMEWORK. identifying toxic ingredients, testing non-lethal potions, and studying famous fairytale poisonings—students are absolutely not permitted to handle lethal poisons outside of class time, no matter how funny Mr. Henchman thinks it would be PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. be cunning, precise, and always ask about antidotes—surprisingly enough Mr. Henchman values ambition and intelligence over blind villainy AVOID MISHAPS. this should go without saying, but don’t ever eat anything from the classroom—regardless of whether it’s an extra-credit challenge or a standard study subject, it’s all dangerous

HISTORY OF TALL TALES. taught by Professor Paul Bunyan

a larger-than-life class where students study the greatest exaggerations in folklore, from beanstalk-climbing farm boys to men who lasso tornadoes. Professor Paul Bunyan, with his booming voice and legendary stature, teaches the importance of hyperbole, embellishment, and how a good story can shape the world. except storytelling assignments where size does matter, and extra credit for every surreptitious golden object you can cram into your tale

HOMEWORK. exaggerating your own legendary feats into tall tales, researching folklore heroes, and reenacting famous larger-than-life moments PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. show enthusiasm for exaggerated storytelling and never question the truth of a tall tale—Professor Bunyan appreciates a good yarn, says puzzling into it "takes away the fun" AVOID MISHAPS. don’t get caught underestimating the size of the stories—or of Professor Bunyan’s pet blue ox, Babe

DIPLOMACY 101. taught by Mrs. Fairy Godmother

an essential course for future rulers, ambassadors, and anyone hoping to survive royal politics, this class covers the art of negotiation, conflict resolution, and fairy-tale-level etiquette. Mrs. Fairy Godmother, an expert in wish-granting diplomacy, ensures that students can turn any total pumpkin of a situation into a golden carriage of opportunity—preferably before midnight

HOMEWORK. drafting peace treaties, mediating minor disputes between friends or classmates, and practicing polite yet firm negotiation techniques PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. mind your manners, choose your words wisely, and never raise your voice—Mrs. Fairy Godmother believes in charm over conflict, and that manners always win AVOID MISHAPS. try not to use magic to solve conflicts too quickly—diplomacy requires finesse and effort, not a bibbidi-bobbidi-bandaid

CASTLE DESIGN. taught by the Three Little Pigs

a structural and aesthetic architecture class that teaches students how to design the perfect castle, from grand ballrooms to impenetrable fortresses, and everything else a benevolent ruler ( or evil sorcerer ) could need from their abode. the Three Little Pigs, having learned their lesson more than once after their own architectural mishaps, are now experts at crafting with only the pinnacle of quality materials, and they guide students through the balance of beauty and functionality, ensuring that no tower is too tall and every drawbridge is both sturdy and stylish

HOMEWORK. drafting blueprints, constructing model castles, and ensuring defenses against huffing and puffing in your structures PLEASE THE PROFESSORS. always prioritize structural integrity in your projects—they still have very, very strong opinions about weak materials AVOID MISHAPS. never, ever suggest using straw or sticks unless you want a three-pig class-long lecture on the merits of proper fortification

BEWITCHING SONG. taught by Ms. Aquata of Atlantis

a mesmerizing music class where students learn the magic of vocal enchantment, from siren songs that lure sailors to sleep, all the way to battle hymns that rally armies. Ms. Aquata, hailing from the royal family of Atlantis with her haunting voice and knowledge of forbidden harmonies, trains students in the delicate balance of melody and power—reminding them that some songs come at a price

HOMEWORK. composing enchantments through song, practicing vocal spells, and analyzing the most famous fairytale musical enchantments ( of course, the teacher is partial to songs from the tale of the Little Mermaid, though she pretends she doesn't have favorites ) PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. stay in tune and on key, embrace the magical melodies, and never mock merfolk music—Ms. Aquata takes her siren songs very seriously, even if they sound like dolphin noises to the untrained ear AVOID MISHAPS. avoid singing the wrong notes—one slip, and you might accidentally charm your classmates into an impromptu dance number ( music magic can be... fickle )

ANGER MAGICMENT. taught by Mr. Badwolf

a course designed for students with fiery tempers and villainous bloodlines, this class focuses on channeling rage productively instead of, say, blowing houses down. Mr. Badwolf ( you know… the Big Bad Wolf ) with his own history of temper issues, teaches students techniques in deep breathing, mindfulness, and how to redirect fury into something slightly less destructive—like competitive sports instead of rampaging through villages

HOMEWORK. journaling your emotional responses on the day-to-day, practicing breathing exercises, and resolving conflict without growling PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. keep your temper in check, use calming techniques, and don’t provoke classmates—Mr. Badwolf knows firsthand how bad anger issues can get, he has no tolerance for trying to set off others AVOID MISHAPS. never howl in frustration—it sets off an automatic... pack response from Mr. Badwolf, leaving him embarrassed and you in detention

EXPERIMENTAL FAIRY MATH. taught by Dr. Sandman

a mind-boggling fusion of numbers, magic, and dream logic, this class teaches students how to manipulate enchanted equations, calculate impossible probabilities, and solve numerical riddles that make reality bend. Dr. Sandman, a master of both dreamscapes and abstract concepts, guides students through numerical paradoxes and whimsical calculations that only make sense if you never think about them too hard

HOMEWORK. solving numerical paradoxes, creating reality-warping equations, and exploring mathematical dreamscapes—make sure you can get back to your dorm when you're done studying, though PLEASE THE PROFESSOR. keep an open mind, embrace dreamy logic, and don’t expect normal numbers—Dr. Sandman sees math through a magical lens, try to see things from his point of view AVOID MISHAPS. never fall asleep mid-equation—you might wake up inside a calculated alternate reality

467 notes · View notes

arabella0001 · 8 days ago

Note

Hiii

Do you remember the Kakashi request I made a while ago ?

cn: fluff. slow burn. avoidant attachment style. explicit sexual content [nsfw / 18+].dirty talk, 6.5 k+ words.

⟡ fandom: naruto | pairing: kakashi x reader

part 1 part 2

a/n: your requests always bring out the monster in me and make me write too much!

Ocular jutsu is a powerful tool. So powerful that the balance is inclined toward darker intents.

Fortunately enough, you and the people in your village were spared. At least for now. Injured ninja and powerless civilians like you are advised to stay in the medical tents around the city. Still, resources are low, so as a community, housing other ninja is a needed help.

Since Kakashi is the Hokage of the Konoha village, he is the most sought after. You didn’t interact with him directly that much, no. Only heard about him from others.

Most of you are powerless against ocular jutsu, but as a villager of healing techniques, you were one of the best at it.Your specialization is in creating advanced medical equipment and tools, of course with knowledge in medical ninjutsu. What sets you apart from others is your rare affinity and expertise toward some techniques in nature manipulation, lightning transmission, and any basic technique that helps you create Saishin Gijutsu-gata.

The special invention that made your name somewhat known in the village was the one you proposed to Konoha’s monarchy government, along with the council.

The first time you saw Kakashi was in a flash.

You walked with little confidence toward the meeting room because you didn’t do well with public speaking, even though Tsunade practically pushed you through the door after fighting off the anxious, irrational doubts you told yourself.

The door was opened by your slightly trembling hand, and you took a deep breath before entering.Your steps were the only sound in the room, announcing your presence before you bowed toward the present members.

“H-hello!” You adjusted your too-weak voice. “Hello! My name is Y/N L/N, born in the village of Sunagakure but now a member of the foundation of the Children’s Mental Healthcare Clinic and Medical Research Division in Konoha.”

You dared to glance at their expressions, which looked bored after the previous presentations before you.

“Right, so…” You turned toward the blackboard with the image projected onto it. “My research is about a possible mono-thunder train.”

“Mono-thunder train?” Shikamaru Nara asked curiously.

The sudden voice froze you a little before you looked at him over your shoulder.

“We know the Thunder Train installed in Konohagakure, right? The research is focused on a singular wagon designed for only four people, one of them to operate the train.”

Shikamaru added immediately. His voice wasn’t judgmental, but skeptical.

“Why should we invest our resources in this if we have a Thunder Train good enough for our needs?”

“Because the difference between them is that it doesn’t need rails. It only needs the ground.”

“What do you mean, the ground?”

You were at least happy someone was asking questions; it helped you present your idea better.

“Yes, that’s the major difference. And your next question is probably how an invention like that could run on the ground without an electrical line. Well, a usual train uses a locomotive as an engine, while this vehicle would get power from a drivetrain, engine, transmission, etc.”

Shikamaru blinked slightly before asking,

“Before you continu…since I, myself, want to hear all of it, and I won’t vote to dismiss your research. What’s the major purpose of it?”

“The monarch of the village would benefit most from it, as it increases privacy and security, especially with a trained person designated as his personal driver.”

Finally, you looked at the Hokage. Kakashi was standing beside Shikamaru, his crucial advisor.

Speaking of Kakashi, he was usually forced to participate in all these kinds of meetings. Not that he didn’t want to. He appreciated creativity of any kind; but the long list of responsibilities drained him day by day. He didn’t want this role, and everybody knew it. Is he a bad or uninvolved Hokage? No. A happy person who gives the most powerful speeches? Also no.

But when he saw you walking in with noticeable shyness yet speaking confidently about your project (which was impressive), he paid more attention. He didn’t want to play the innocent card either, but your beauty was another reason. So it wasn’t a surprise that he was already looking at you when you made a reference toward him. A surprise that the eye contact lasted two seconds too long.

Maybe she’s intimidated?

You weren’t. Well…a little, but that wasn’t the major reason. The major reason was his presence. Why didn’t anyone prepare you beforehand for how young the Hokage is and especially how he looks?

You withdrew your gaze so it wouldn’t be considered disrespectful, as if you were glaring at the Hokage himself, and you didn’t dare to look at him again. Only once more before finishing your presentation, and once again, he looked at you too. Of course, you told yourself he was paying attention like a good Hokage would, but the truth was further from that.

You were too tired when you arrived home later that day. The fifth brutally injured patient had arrived at your tent. The unknown opposition organization threatening Konoha was still causing damage. It’s true the number has decreased, but until they find the purpose behind these evil, destructive individuals, you can’t name a solution.

Your own theory is that the reason they’re not killing people but instead injuring and putting them under various jutsu for control is that they want to send a message. Probably a message for the only person threatened with death. Kakashi. He’s not the only one with ocular jutsu, Sasuke and Sarada are also targets. Ocular jutsu has always been superior, once representing some of the most powerful people on earth: the Uchiha Clan. Maybe their intention is to steal the remnants of that power?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, and you nearly dropped your teacup when the knocks became more aggressive and insistent. You couldn’t think of anyone who might be at your place right now, other than your friends who would never make your heart race like that from the intensity of the knocks. That’s the disadvantage when your techniques don’t help you in a proper fight. Basic knowledge of defense doesn’t calm your heart either.

You gulped, grabbed your favorite knife handcrafted by you, and walked toward the door, which had stopped rattling. You turned the handle with precise slowness before opening it.

When you opened the door slowly and cautiously, you froze with wide eyes at the scene in front of you: the Hokage himself, speaking with one of the three guards about the exaggerated knocking. They stopped mid-conversation, giving you side glances.

Kakashi’s eyes traveled briefly over your body, pausing at your choice of clothing, a black satin two-piece pajama. His eyes landed on the knife, then on your slightly scared expression. He shifted his position to stand directly in front of you, with the guards behind him.

“Good evening. I offer my apologies for the earlier sudden and harsh knocking. I imagine it frightened you.”

You still hadn’t processed what was happening.

“First of all, I know this isn’t news to you, but the allocation of refugee citizens in the medical tents and housing within the safety zone plays a role in citizen security.”

You started to come back to yourself, and just before responding, you realized what you were wearing in front of the most powerful person in the village. You abruptly closed the door to cover yourself, red paint practically blooming across your cheeks.

“It’s fine! No problem! I was just… never mind. Ahm, yes. Good evening, Hokage-sama. I know about the situation. Obviously—I mean of course I know that—excuse me,” you said, bowing. Kakashi smiled subtly under his mask, though his gaze seemed serious.

His guards didn’t look too pleased, judging by the way they glanced at you suspiciously, scanning the area.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he reassured you before continuing. “The Hokage’s assignment was designated to your home because your home’s infrastructure is closest to the strategic security plan proposed by my advisor, Shikamaru Nara.”

You didn’t really hear much of the last part. Kakashi staying in your house?

His unmistakable voice pulled you out of your dissociative gaze to focus on him again.

“If it’s alright with you, there’s no pressure. I can speak with Shikamaru to rewrite the plan for a different house, if there’s another available.”

One of the guards looked like he was about to object to the number of options being given to you, but Kakashi’s gaze pinned him in place.

You looked at each of them before returning your gaze to Kakashi, wondering if you were dreaming. Nope, this is real.

“Ah, yes. Of course, no problem. Excuse my manners.”

You prayed the room wasn’t too messy and that not everyone would enter at once. Only one of those things came true. The guards followed him in and began checking the place for any signs of danger, and you stood frozen, just watching them. Kakashi wasn’t focused on the house at all. Only on you.

“It’s necessary, unfortunately. Your privacy was invaded, and I’m sorry for that. I know how it must feel.”

You looked up at him because he was tall, not that you were very short. You didn’t understand why he hadn’t fully entered the house so you could close the door.

“It’s no problem. I understand it’s for your safety.”

You indirectly signaled him to step in by trying to close the door, and he took the hint, stepping inside.

Your formality bothered him, it made it feel like you weren’t equals. But he’d bring that up later.

Your house was completely different from his because his had as few personal items as possible, maybe just a few books. Yours was full of plants, which fit you, along with books and all kinds of paintings of insects on one side, and weapons and machinery on the other. A woman of both worlds. There was some mess here and there, which bothered him even more because he had caught you off guard.

“I-I’ll go prepare the room. Actually, choose whichever you like, you can even take mine—just let me go in first, please—”

He raised his hands, signaling disagreement and stopping both your words and your steps.

“You don’t need to do anything. Wouldn’t you rather we have tea until the guards finish checking?”

You turned quickly toward the simple open kitchen, contrasting the living room.

“Sure, just a moment.” You paused. “Can I go change? I’ll be right back, promise.”

He’s probably going to lose his mind at how sweet you are, but way too stressed.

“Yes, of course. You don’t need my permission.”

You nodded and rushed up the stairs to your room. When you came back down, Kakashi was already preparing the tea, his cloak and hat resting on a chair.

“What? No, you didn’t have to! You’re the guest and not to mention—”

His eyes gave the hint of a smile, but you weren’t sure. He looked over his shoulder and let you continue by taking his hands off the teapot.

“I can’t remain a guest in a house that isn’t mine and offers me safety on top of it.”

You shook your head in disagreement. You didn’t understand his completely unentitled behavior. But you had no words left when he moved toward the couch, his figure front and center.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive this.

He visibly smiled with his eyes when you gave him the tea, eyes closing. And you smiled back.It was the first time he saw that. Officially, you’re even prettier when you smile.

The guards returned at the same time from upstairs, their strong footsteps echoing down to the last stair. They looked strangely at the scene before them, as if you two had known each other forever, before bowing to a Hokage who looked completely relaxed.

“All clean, Hokage-sama.”

“Alright. You may leave for the night and return in the morning with Shikamaru’s plans.”

“Hokage-sama, it’s not safe to remain unsupervised. Tsunade warned us beforehand about…this. We’re forced to go against your word this time.” Another added after bowing, “We’ll surround the house and take turns.”

Kakashi sighed before accepting, mentally cursing Tsunade’s interference in his selfless plans.

“Fine. Do as you wish then.”

You waited for them to finish before continuing.

“If you want, you can rest here between shifts.”

The third member, who hadn’t spoken until now, said reproachfully before they all exited the house.

“A guardian doesn’t close his eyes when the supreme leader’s life is at risk. You should know that, foreign girl from the Land of Sand.”

You felt too ashamed to say anything back.

“Ignore what they say. They take their job too seriously. Their words don’t define what I believe.”

You looked at Kakashi, disheartened.He had calmed you more times tonight than you could count.

Is he irresponsible or do I just not think twice before speaking?

You nodded in superficial agreement, more out of respect.

“Now, do you want to choose your room, Hokage-sama? Or would you like to eat? Shower?”

Kakashi stood, sighing again, and you were convinced you’d upset him, maybe stressed him out too much, or maybe you weren’t behaving correctly. You didn’t know how to speak to high-ranking people, especially when that person looked this attractive. It was an extreme-level game not to let your eyes admire his face or body. Not a game for beginners.

“We can go and you can show me the rooms, but only for your pleasure.” His steps got too close to you, and your heart beat wildly as you tried your best not to back away and appear afraid. “But otherwise, my only wish is for you to treat me normally. Like a friend, Y/N.”

Your brain short-circuited. What? He knows my name? Then you corrected yourself—duh, of course he knows the name of the person he’s staying with.

You came back down to earth, finally acting a little more like yourself.

“Okay, I’ll try. Sor—” No apologies. “Right. Ahm, let’s go.”

Kakashi slept that night in the guest room next to yours, the one where your friends sometimes stayed. It was fairly simple, just the way he liked it, even if it didn’t have your touch.

You, on the other hand, had a hard time falling asleep that night, tossing and turning and praying you’d wake up early enough to make breakfast. You figured he probably had food delivered by his guards, but you couldn’t risk it.

You managed to wake up, not feeling his presence, so you assumed he was still asleep. You rushed through your usual routine, still preparing your medical uniform to head to the tents, hoping that maybe today there would be even fewer victims. Although this area was the most monitored and safest, it was hard to ever feel completely secure.

After finishing breakfast and placing it as nicely as possible, you stepped outside the house to see what his guards were doing. They were likely starting the house security protocol Shikamaru had proposed.

But when you came out, Kakashi was still in yesterday’s clothes, since he hadn’t had a change yet, and his Hokage wardrobe was missing. His gaze was fixed above the house, where a guard was measuring its dimensions, his hands resting on his hips.

Fuck, I woke up too late.

Kakashi sensed you immediately, he was already used to your presence. In fact, involuntarily, he was far more aware of it. He looked at you from the side before greeting you.

“Good morning, Y/N. Quite an early hour to be awake.”

You blushed a little, not bothering to argue.

“Breakfast is ready. Anytime you’re hungry, you can go to the kitchen.”

Kakashi looked at you a moment, noticing the dark circles under your eyes and assuming this definitely wasn’t your usual wake-up time but he said nothing. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, and not just because you didn’t want to be disobedient, however that made for a good excuse.

“I already ate, thank you. You didn’t have to cook for me.” But he didn’t let you continue, already knowing what you were going to say. “Are you leaving soon?”

You clasped your sweaty hands before answering as normally as you could, still without confusing his position with friendship.

“In… a few hours. I’m on the afternoon shift.”

You’d already confirmed that 5 a.m. was definitely not your normal hour. He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Okay, I’ll come with you then. I’ve got a few things to discuss with Tsunade. I understand you know each other?”

Probably that’s how he knows my name.

“Ahm… yeah. She was the one who introduced me to the hospital’s internal protocol.”

“Aha. So you’re just acquaintances.”

Your mind flashed through all the evenings you’d spent drinking with Tsunade, her complaining about the Hokage (now you had way too many questions about what you knew regarding Kakashi), and all the times she’d been your biggest supporter.

“Friends. Good friends, I’d dare say.”

Interesting. Tsunade wouldn’t make friends with someone who didn’t meet her standards. The thought that you might share a bit of her fierce attitude made him want to know you even more.

“I see.” You didn’t understand why he was asking. Was he making conversation? You could say he seemed grounded. Under normal circumstances, you’d be glad to want to know him more. But you couldn’t allow yourself that.

Kakashi exchanged a few words with the guards when they asked him about a particular section on the adviser’s or architect’s paper. Even though he didn’t appear focused on you (or so you thought), you bowed slightly before turning back toward the house.

Kakashi watched you go as he half-listened to the man speaking. It took a while before he came in—you assumed it was because he now had his bag, most likely with clothes, closing the door softly behind him.

“D-do you drink coffee?” You found it hard to speak with formality, and Kakashi noticed your hesitation. He liked that you were trying.

“I’d love to.” He wondered what coffee made by you might taste like. Hopefully, it would soon be his favorite.

Even though thoughts like that didn’t scare him the way they used to, Kakashi wasn’t usually like this, and he didn’t believe it was wise. It was just the illusion of a door opening to some parallel universe where he might have access to a word foreign to him: love.

Still, he found it amusing to have these kinds of conversations with you because you attracted him from multiple angles. First, it was your appearance and he knew that was shallow, but your life, your path, your personal space had been enough to mentally draw him in too. Who you were underneath the humble persona, he couldn’t quite figure out. You were definitely a good person, considering your profession and the friends you had. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy him yet.

Still, the circumstances he was in made him act this way. His thoughts now sounded an alarm, and he went to change into clean clothes, avoiding his unbearable uniform and settling onto the couch, reading his favorite volume from the series. Old habits die hard.

The shift in energy was also a reminder for you that he was just being polite in response to your hospitality. At the end of the day, he was the village leader, not a potential friend. The word “friend” felt false anyway; your thoughts weren’t platonic, and that only made you feel worse.

You placed his coffee on the small table and stopped yourself from finishing a curse under your breath when you almost spilled it because of a book’s spine. Kakashi was faster than you—though he seemed immersed in the book (he was, needing a distraction, and Icha Icha books were the best choice)—his hand already reached the cup while yours was just inches above his.

There’s a reason he holds that title. It’s inhuman to be that fast. Your eyes met, your mouth slightly open in shock at embarrassing yourself in front of the Hokage. But feeling his firm hand under yours made you pull back your hand and your gaze at the same time.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful.” You stepped back from the table as if you feared you might make another blunder.

And Kakashi just let out a sound that resembled a chuckle, which instantly made you look up at him. What a beautiful smile.

“It happens. Sometimes you’re too deep in your own thoughts.”

My thoughts about you. Right.

Kakashi added, “Are you feeling alright? I know these past days have been demanding for you all.”

You couldn’t lie to him. It’s one thing to act differently from how you feel—another to lie outright.

“It’s been rough, but not as bad as at the beginning.”

You felt awkward standing there like you were putting on a show, and his gaze felt too exposing, so you sat down on a chair as far from him as possible. Kakashi understood you weren’t comfortable sitting near him. It bothered him, just a little.

He sipped the coffee and he felt on his tongue the beans you’d chosen were exactly the kind he had at home. Strong enough, but not overly roasted like some people preferred. Your gaze wasn’t free of his as you wondered if you were even allowed or privileged to look at him without the mask. You were stunned at how handsome he was.

“Can I help you with anything? Or help you personally with something?”

When you began to shake your head in disapproval, he spoke again.

“Tell me. Forget the formalities.”

You swallowed hard.

“Thank you very much, but it’s not necessary. We’ve managed so far.”

The first time you allowed yourself a question, murmured while Kakashi crossed one leg over the other and closed the book. He couldn’t stay distracted anymore.

“Has anything been found about the identity of the culprits? If it’s okay for you to tell me—”

He cut off the end of your sentence.

“Not yet, but there are suspicions. It shouldn’t take long, considering the Sand Village recently declared, without us even asking, that they’re willing to help.”

Kakashi narrowed his eyes, considering a very slim probability.

“Are you part of a well-known family from the Sand Village?”

That question was bound to come.

“Yes. The mother figure was the well-known counselor Chiyo. The mother figure for me and… Sasori.”

Figures, Kakashi thought.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Both losses.”

You replied with a half-smile.

“I’ve moved on, but thank you. Sasori, though… he was lost from a young age. The pain he left behind has faded over time.”

Kakashi figured your childhood wasn’t pleasant either. He didn’t dare ask about your parents.

“I suppose you felt some apathy toward the new Kazekage.”

You laughed a bit ironically. It was a small, satisfying portion for Kakashi.

“A little, yes. But now we have strong ties.”

That brought him right where he wanted. Even so, it didn’t mean the conversation wasn’t sincere.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice curious and hard to read.

“The Sand Village has always been helpful, especially during the war. They’re trustworthy people. It was pleasant and surprising how quickly they found out about the invasion, even on day one.”

After he finished the sentence, he paused before slowly turning his gaze toward you to observe your reaction.

The silence was crushing. You could hear only your heartbeat in your chest. If you hadn’t upset him before, now you felt like you’d be kicked out of your own house for treason.

And you didn’t recognize Kakashi’s gaze. It wasn’t stern or serious. His eyes were hypnotic, and you’d already dug your grave by not answering immediately. There was nothing left to do.

“I… told them.”

He turned his gaze to his coffee, took a sip, then continued to let you stew a bit. From a certain angle, what he was doing could be seen as a little toxic.

“I thought so.”

You couldn’t even apologize. It wouldn’t make sense. How did he figure it out? Since when?

He stood up and adjusted his pants, and you felt your breath catch again; worse now than when he asked.

“I’ll go put on those damn clothes. Want to come after?”

Where? To jail?

“Where?”

He barely stopped himself from laughing.

“To the tents? Where else, Y/N?”

His smirk grew wider at the end of the sentence.

“Right… of course.”

As he climbed the final step, he ended the conversation with another tease.

“Maybe we’ll have time for a walk before you get lost in your thoughts again.”

You watched him go with that same stunned expression.

Is he fucking with me now?

—

The walk to the tents was fairly short. The glances from the locals were uncomfortable and understandably so. Of course people were wondering why, next to Kakashi with his guards in tow, there was a girl of seemingly average social status in Konoha.

Kakashi didn’t feel like caring. He was too busy forcing himself to smile at everyone who greeted him. A socially exhausting walk and the day hadn’t even begun properly. The sideways glances he gave you went unnoticed. You were too tense and uncomfortable, still his focus was on how the morning light highlighted your beauty.

How had your paths not crossed earlier, considering your link to Tsunade? Or had he been so caught up in his indifference that he hadn’t noticed you? Even that felt hard to believe. Where had you been hiding all this time?

“Good luck. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

He bowed slightly out of respect, and you wanted to leave as quickly as possible after glancing nervously at half your coworkers who were wondering what business the Hokage had with you. The rest had already heard. Gossip was inescapable, especially in such a small corner of the village.

“Aa-ah, thank you. And thank you for the trust. Have a good day and good luck to the Hokage with whatever he planned today?! Yeah.” You bowed back, lower than him. It was hard to speak in a way that didn’t feel like you.

Kakashi’s eyes glinted. His voice dropped lower so only you could hear.

“I like that you still try to pretend.”

You blinked twice, but Kakashi had already turned toward Tsunade’s makeshift office.

Was that a threat? Will I be punished later for what happened this morning? You don’t know, still your body definitely interpreted his words differently, and you felt warmer than usual.

You quickly pulled yourself together. People needed you. Just before dropping off your tools, you were rearranging your supplies on the shared table, making sure you hadn’t forgotten any of the herbs you needed. Shizune’s sister, your friend, nudged you sharply with her elbow to get your attention.

“Can I know why I wasn’t the first to find out? Traitor.”

You scowled at her, half confused, half indignantly playful.

“Are you insane?”

People were already looking at you, especially when your voice rose.Seering their reactions, you hissed aggressively in a quiet voice. You didn’t want more attention than you already had.

“What the hell are you talking about, Shinya?”

She gave you an offended look.

“That the Hokage is staying at your house, maybe? I don’t know, just saying. It might be IMPORTANT INFORMATION??”

“I found out last night! I’m just as shocked as you.”

She leaned over the table, a grin on her face.

“What’s it like sharing a bed with the most attractive man in Konoha?” she corrected herself, “Or no, what’s it like sharing a bed with the most attractive leader in Konoha?” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.

You nudged her back with your elbow, shocked and embarrassed.

“I don’t fucking share a bed with him! He’s actually sleeping in the bed you and Sakura used.”

She opened her mouth wide, gasping dramatically as she followed you all the way to the tent. You pulled the curtain shut on her face before muttering, “I didn’t know he looked like that. I’m gonna kill Tsunade.”

It would’ve been the peak of irony to walk back home with Kakashi. It’s weird to say home like it’s your shared house. A small, selfish part of you had a foolish expectation that maybe he’d be waiting for you. Pure irrational daydreaming. No, Kakashi was, at the end of the day, buried under mountains of paperwork, full of new information, citizen fears, investigation proposals from the Land of Sand, Shikamaru’s plans, the council’s suspicions. He couldn’t even stand the thought that his guards barely got any rest, like he was some kind of untouchable jewel. He’s not. He never has been, no matter how much people keep trying to tell him that. That’s why he never wanted this position in the first place, mostly.

He preferred helping silently with everything he had, trading in his life without blinking rather than being applauded for simply breathing.

He can’t even go on missions himself anymore. It stresses him out terribly. And Naruto’s constant attention is even more exhausting and overprotective. Sasuke’s probably even more stressed by him, though. Not that Kakashi would ever complain about Naruto. If he could, he would’ve given him this position. As for Sasuke, it’s partly true that he wouldn’t complain. He’s one of the few people Kakashi resonates with on this topic. Besides Itachi, who’s been sacrificing himself ever since his own mistakes, born of trauma far too deep.

One’s dead, and the other managed to build a family. Kakashi would’ve punched him himself if he didn’t finally accept Sakura in his life and kept ignoring his feelings. The thought came now; if Tsunade ever found out about his… affinity for you, he’d probably get beat up (worse) and stressed out. Clearly, he’ll need to avoid ever slipping up about that.

But then…there’s you.

On your way home, you ran into none other than Tsunade at the restaurant that resembled Ramen Ichiraku. Probably one of the first things the war hero did when she arrived here. He’d been away on missions for days now, and Sakura was getting more and more worried, who was also having to basically force Sasuke to stay out of nearly everything just to be with Sarada, which honestly did him good, while she worked more than anyone else.

Tsunade was leaning on both elbows, waiting for her food, until she saw you and snorted.

“Rough day, huh? Didn’t see you today.”

You hugged her from the side. One of the rare people Tsunade smiles at when receiving affection. Not much, but still.

You sat down with a sigh, before speaking with a mocking tone and a dramatic tilt of your head.

“Yeah, maybe ‘cause you were too busy with Ho-ka-ge sa-ma.”

She rolled her eyes and immediately took a shot, tossing her head back.

“Yeah, yeah. Bullshit. I didn’t get the chance to tell you and even if I did, I wouldn’t have.”

“Why my house, specifically?”

“Shikamaru said Kakashi’s suggestion was solid when they checked the houses. The chakra points align well for protection.”

Suggestion… whose?

“Kakashi suggested it?”

Tsunade raised an eyebrow before making room on the table for the food.

“Who did you think?”

You ordered a simple ramen too, then leaned toward her, whispering accusingly.

“Knowing you, I figured you’d only suggest it just to mess with me.”

Tsunade lifted a hand and dropped it with a ‘miss me with that bullshit’ gesture before changing her expression.

“You’re pretty affected, huh?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Don’t start. You’re smug because you find this amusing.”

You widened your eyes, elbowing someone a second time.

“Shut up. I don’t want anyone hearing that kind of thing.”

She made a scandalized face, clearly entertained.

“So I’m right.”

“Partially. It’s irrelevant, he’s the Hokage.”

Tsunade scrunched her nose.

“So what? It’s Kakashi. The problem’s not that he’s the Hokage, it’s that he’s Kakashi.”

Now you frowned.

“What do you mean? How is that not a problem? What would people say—”

“To hell with people. High-ranking folks get to live too, you know.” You agreed with her, but still weren’t convinced. “Kakashi is like a wall, made out of materials even stronger than the ones you make.”

“What do you mean?”

She got a little irritated.

“As if I haven’t complained to you about him before. He’s got a really good heart, even if I hate to admit I can’t stand him, but his past was hell. He’s not open to things that might actually do him good.”

You didn’t know why your stomach twisted in disappointment. You hadn’t even gone that far.

She noticed the way your gaze dropped.

“I’m not saying it’s impossible. People change, depending on who they meet.”

Just like Shinya, she raised her eyebrows at you teasingly.

“Oh shut up. It’s too late. I’m going to bed.”

“With who?”

You made an exaggerated face before you both said goodnight.

——

When you got back, Kakashi wasn’t around. At least not in the living room. You went to wash up quickly, allowing yourself to put on pajamas that were somewhat decent, because that conversation with Tsunade reminded you he is a normal person at the end of the day, and a little bare let shouldn’t bother the Hokage.

Going down the stairs, lost in thought, you moved to make two cups of tea in case he showed up and nearly dropped the kettle when Kakashi suddenly entered the house. Even though only he knew the seal for the door, he still startled you. Your eyes met.

He took off his cloak as he walked, speaking first.

“Seems like all I do is scare you.”

You laughed politely.

“It’s okay, I’m just clumsy.”

“I’ve noticed that too.”

Given this joking side of him, you were starting to think maybe you weren’t going to jail. You couldn’t help but smile back and he did too, involuntarily, which even surprised him, though that was just the effect your smile had.

“Want me to put your cloak in the closet here, so it’s easier to grab in the morning?”

He stood holding it, a little confused in the middle of the living room.

“Ah? Yeah, sure. Actually no, you don’t have to. Where is the closet?”

You tried pointing, but missed, so you laughed and came over, taking it from his hand without asking and placing it in the closet right in front of him. A common trait men share.

You were too close to him, and you only realized it late, just as his voice caught you off guard when your back was turned.

“Apparently you’re not the only clumsy one.”

You instinctively looked over your shoulder up at his face, and the look in his eyes froze time. He was just as affected. Why lie about it? He didn’t even try to move or give you personal space, leaving it up to you to decide what to do. And, of course, you left once you broke out of the trance, smiling faintly and distracting yourself with the tea mugs.

You didn’t even realize that Kakashi was staring at your exposed legs all the way up to your parted lips when you turned your head. Because you were already too caught up in how good he looked in that black tank top clinging to his body, showing off his build. And the fact that he still wore the mask was killing you even more. Maybe a dress code would help, considering you both acted like teenagers hitting puberty.

But your visual distraction was temporarily paused. His shirt and pants were changed, still black. But his hair was wet now, which made up for it. Another angle from which he was just… attractive.

Ugh, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You gave him the reheated tea after preparing his food and sat down beside him without even realizing it, automatically grabbing your book from the table.

“That’s a step worth considering.” His smirk wasn’t visible, but it was there. He leaned his head on his hand.

Noticing where you sat, you shifted more into the couch, as if that would somehow put more distance between you.

“A step toward what?”

He grabbed his book too, opening it to the marked page.

“Toward not being so tense around me.”

You turned your gaze away, embarrassed, but didn’t respond.

“What are you reading?” he asked, and you showed him the book, chosen more by chance, to support the used bookstore opened by a neighbor.

“Tell me what you think of it once you’re done,” he said, noticing it was on the first page.

“You?” You hadn’t looked at what he was reading till now so you didn’t want to come off as a stalker, but maybe you should’ve, because you gave yourself away by knowing exactly which book it was. You weren’t born yesterday, you knew. “Ah.” You looked away. “Didn’t think the Hokage had that kind of taste.” You couldn’t lie. The story was interesting, but still…

Kakashi raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? And what kind of books do I seem like I’d read?”

You leaned on your fist, ignoring the sarcastic tone. You knew it came off a little disrespectful, but you were too affected to care.

“I don’t know. I don’t know you well enough.”

“I haven’t been Hokage that long, though.”

His gaze was unreadable as usual, but his tone was warm.

“I know. I didn’t mean it to sound rude or anything.”

“Seems like you have this kind of taste too.”

You looked away again, distracting yourself with a sip of chamomile tea.

“Maybe.”

Finally, you’d let go of the formalities or at least for one evening. You were impossible to ignore; with your hair gently falling from your shoulders, your legs slightly revealed by the cross-legged position. Your flushed cheeks half-hidden from his eyes, your soft gaze hiding other parts of you. You were so at ease in your senses, so unlike the serious you he saw today when you were focused on a wounded patient, wiping the sweat off your forehead from the effort. He would’ve waited if he could, nevertheless responsibilities remain responsibilities, powered by the stress of the village’s situation and the people still getting hurt and he doesn’t want to let them down.

You looked back at him from the stillness and only then did Kakashi snap out of his trance, clearly having been staring at you.

That’s when Kakashi pulled back. It was his moment to retreat inward. He closed his book as you watched him.

“All right. Have a good evening and sleep well. Don’t wake up at 5 a.m. again unless it’s necessary.” He offered you a smile except it didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was flat, emotionless.

“Sleep well, Kakashi.” You spoke without thinking and Kakashi stopped mid-step. “I apologize for the way I addressed you—I wasn’t thinking—”

“It’s okay. I told you, we’re equals.” He didn’t turn back to look at you, his thoughts were entirely focused on protecting you both. Still, hearing his name fall from your lips affected him more than he expected.

And that’s how you ended up in the kitchen until midnight. Sprawled across the couch, head tilted toward the ceiling, arm dangling midair holding a book you’d barely reached page 7 of.

@strangergraphics for the dividers

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moody-alcoholic · 6 months ago

Text

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 9 - Déjà vu

CW: dead dove don't eat, torture, death, suicidal thoughts.

The playlist I have been writing to for this series is here!

Previous parts - masterlist - next

This is real, but it doesn’t feel real. Your breathing picks up, your heart is thumping in your chest. You try to remember the techniques your therapist taught you for avoiding a panic attack.

This is real though, you’re not fighting against your subconscious and memories, this isn’t like the flashbacks you get in the shower.

This is real.

You’re still in the dark, maybe that's on purpose, maybe it's already started, the psychological torture. Keeping you in the closest thing to a sensory deprivation room. You don’t bother trying to keep track of time. They don’t bring you food or water, you can’t hear anything on the other side of the walls, it’s just you and your thoughts.

Someone comes to collect you, slapping cuffs back on and walking you down a windowless corridor into a brightly lit room with a table bolted to the floor and chairs on either side. He shoves you down into a chair, there’s a large one way window in the room, on this side you can only see your reflection.

You expect the soldier to tie your hands to the table or the chairs. He doesn’t though, he takes the cuffs and leaves. You’re alone now, you hear the door lock, not like you were going to run anyway. You’re not waiting too long before the door opens again.

Philip Graves walks in, you’ve only run into him a few times, he doesn’t look any different from what you remember. You straighten up in your chair, he walks over to the other side of the table. He has a folder tucked under his arm and two cups, one in each hand.

“I didn’t know how you took it. Milk and sugar?” He asks as he puts one of the cups in front of you. You ignore him looking behind him at the one way glass. You wonder if they’re watching; John or Johnny, maybe even kyle.

Graves puts the folder down on the table and sits down.

There’s nothing they can do. It was days before Laswell managed to exonerate you before, you have a feeling this time it’s going to be different.

“It surprised me when I heard 141 were getting a medic.” He leans back in his chair sipping his coffee. “How many times have you had to pull them out of the field for some dumb shit?”

You stay silent.

“Well, I always knew they would ruin every nice thing they get.” He chuckles, it makes you feel sick.

God you hate him. Good, at least when he hurts you it won't be as painful. You don’t have to worry about moving on without him, forgiving him. You can spend the rest of your life hating him for what he’s going to do.

“Your personal devices are being checked. Want to let us know in advance if we will find anything?” He says, raising an eyebrow. Your stomach twists, they’ll find nudes pictures you sent to tease them before everything fell apart. You haven’t been able to bring yourself to look at them let alone get rid of them.

You stare him down until just sighs and takes another drink of his coffee.

“I respect you, you’ve been here before and you’re still so.. put together.” He leans forward studying your face. “How do you do it? I would love to give some tips to my men.”

It feels like a pathetic attempt to get you to lower your defences; make you think you’re the one with the power. You’re not going to say anything, not until he forces you, and even then you’re not going to make it easy for him. You’ve had your time to panic, you’ve had your time to cry, now it’s your time to fight.

You tune out Graves as he batters you with questions you ignore, you don’t want to build rapport with him. Instead you end up looking past him at the one way window in the room. You never got a chance to tell John you forgave him, maybe he’s watching, maybe he’s not, you don’t know what's worse.

You don't know if Simon is okay, if he’s out of surgery or if he’s stable. That makes you sad, you hope he survives, a few months ago you wouldn’t have had the strength to push gauze in his wounds if he was bleeding out. Now you can’t stand the thought of him not being around.

Your therapist was right, even though you didn’t believe it during your sessions, you feel stronger, brave. You worked the trauma into something positive, you forgave the people you love, the people you hurt you. You close your eyes letting out a breath, you remember the first day you were in the house you all bought.

The kitchen was being renovated, the place was empty, all there was was a single mattress on the living room floor. That's all you needed apparently, that and takeaway, it was a good night. Even though the acoustics of the empty house were less than ideal, you had some really good sex, then you fell asleep in someone's arms.

A knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts, you look up at Graves who’s demeanor has changed. Maybe he’s bored of you ignoring him. He gets up and goes over to open it. He blocks the door, you try to look but you can’t see. You can’t make out what he’s saying either.

When the door closes the mood in the room is different. Graves comes over and puts your phone on the table in between you both. He doesn’t sit down.

“What do you think we found?”

You look up at him blinking. You won’t break this easily.

“It will be easier if you talk.”

You hold your ground. There is nothing incriminating on your phone, on any of your devices. He crosses his arms.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to be the one attempting to take out 141 twice.” He scoffs. “I can’t fault your dedication. But here’s the thing, you stepped on the toes of someone you probably didn’t mean to. Now we need to find out what you know.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He lets out a huff pressing his lips together.

“Andrei Nolan, ring a bell?” You try so hard not to react, you can feel your jaw clenching though. Graves reaches over and picks up the folder. He flicks through it until he finds what he’s looking for, he throws one of the CCTV snapshots on the table. You don’t even need to lean forward to look, you know it's the same ones John showed you months ago.

It’s happening again, John and Simon didn’t believe you when you were screaming and begging at them. You have a feeling Graves gives less of a fuck.

“This really doesn’t have to be hard.” He puts the folder down bracing on the table, his arms spread apart. He studies you for a reaction you unclench your jaw keeping eye contact with him. He stands up striding round the table to stand next to you. You don’t move, keeping your eyes looking at yourself in the mirrored window.

“Your life is about to get extremely uncomfortable extremely quickly if you don’t cooperate.” His breath is hot on your ear, his voice low as he grits his teeth. “You think 141 were bad, you haven't seen anything yet. You should really think hard about how you want to continue these little talks.”

His fingers are gripping your arms as he pulls you to your feet. He knees your thighs forcing you to bend over the table as he pulls your wrists into cuffs. Your heart rate picks up again, he's dragging you back to your cell. He throws you in without taking the cuffs off. You stubble against the metal bed, the door is slammed closed. Your arms are stuck behind your back as you steady yourself the best you can.

You let out a grunt sitting down on the floor as the lights go off again.

You’re not going to let them break you.

…

This time it’s harder. That surprises you.

You don’t get to sleep, you can’t keep track of time, they don’t bring you food or water. Everytime you’re about to nod off or get comfy you're dragged out of your cell into the same blindingly bright room. The torture hasn’t started quite yet, Graves just shouts at you, his voice going horse after a few hours.

You don’t say a word.

Your body is exhausted, you have no idea how long it has been. One day at least, Graves took a shower. You could see his ruffled hair groomed, he smelt of the shitty base soap.

“141 may have believed your bullshit but I don’t buy it for a second!” He shouts, slamming his hand down on the metal table. It’s been another long session, your head is swimming, your body is feeling weak, you could use some food, or a sleep. At least 141 kept you fed and let you get some sleep.

Graves comes over to you yanking your hair forcing your head to look straight. His grip is tight causing you to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palm. It’s the first time he’s been physical with you.

“Lieutenant Riley is dead.” It’s like a punch to the gut. Your eyes widen, your breathing stops.

You feel like you’re going to be sick, your head swims. No. he can’t be dead.

“You did that. You killed him.” He points in the mirror. Your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes. He grips your hair tighter as he throws your head forward. Your neck pops, you look down at your knees, tears falling on your pants.

He can’t be dead.

You don’t move, you don’t listen to Graves, just let the silent tears come, being the only outlet for the pain in your heart. You never got to tell him you forgave him, you never saw him smile one last time. You never got to tell him you love him. Now he’s gone and that's all your fault.

Arms grab you pulling you out the chair, you don’t fight them, you don’t have the strength, you don’t care. You expect to be taken back to your cell. Instead you’re taken to another room, a new room. There’s a table and a chair, you sniff looking around as Graves takes you over to the table.

Another person walks into the room. You see a tray with some tools on it, a bucket with clothes soaking inside. You know where this is going and you don't care. Let them drown you, let them hurt you, you deserve all of this.

You should have been there, you should have saved him.

The other man is bigger than Graves, he manhandles you, your body is almost betraying you fighting against their grip. Something deep inside you knows what's about to happen and wants to fight. You end up slipping from Graves grip and falling to your knees. It’s not long before there is another person in the room. More hands on you.

Panic rises in you adrenaline pumping through your veins, your sadness has turned to anger, your fight or flight has kicked in and you’re choosing to fight. You scratch and kick, screaming at the top of your lungs until your throat is sore. It doesn’t matter though there are too many people, you don’t have the energy to fight them, even with the boost of adrenaline.

You’re picked up, your body slammed hard on the metal table, it’s cold, your ankles and wrists are cuffed. You can’t move or fight anymore. You look up watching everyone but graves leave the room. He grips your head pulling it down, it slams hard against the table making your ears ring.

“I really didn’t want it to turn out like this.” He says, he sounds sympathetic. It’s bullshit. Your breathing is rapid; it feels like you can't breathe, your fingers tingle as Graves leaves your side. You hear the running of a tap, the sloshing of water.

“How long did you last last time? A day? Two?” The door opens and another person comes in. You don’t bother looking, just stare at the fluorescent light on the ceiling. It stings your already raw eyes. “I bet we can do better.”

You feel like you can hear a chuckle in his voice. The wet rag comes over your nose and mouth, you flick your eyes back to Graves standing above you. There’s a smile on his face, he’s enjoying this.

You squeeze your eyes closed wishing you were anywhere else as cold water is poured over your face.

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 2 months ago

Text

Curse Your Name

𖤐❝The Preachers Daughter❞𖤐

❥Vampire Ateez x fem reader

❝What is destined cannot be avoided.❞

Masterlist + Visualizers

✫彡wordcount: 9k

(✯◡✯)genre: yandere, fantasy, smut, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: see general warnings in the masterlist: injuries, blood + drinking said blood + hard ons from said drinking of said blood, fear, supernatural elements, age gap (reader mortal/ateez over 300 years old😭), unbalanced power dynamics, forced smooches, fictional religion, soulmate au

➯a/n: and so it begins *evil laughter*

✫taglist✫(i can't think of something clever help lmao) @spenceatiny18 @gigglensnort @londonbridges01 @soobieboobiebaby @killerwaifu @stayatinykatsy @onyxmango

✩index: veil walking - an advanced spiritual technique when your soul leaves your body and takes you somewhere else. Caethnor dialect: ka - spoken before or after a sentence to make it more serious or stern. ba - spoken before or after a sentence to make it softer. mi - added after someone's name to show affection.

there will only be a few instances where i use an entirely made up language but when i do the translation will be written next to it {like this}

❝Drink from me and live... forever.❞

MDNI.

𖤐❝Fate cannot be changed.❞𖤐

Caethnor is a lucky village.

The river that flows in a near circle around the community is beautiful and provides protection and resources. Water grass and marine life are plentiful, even in winter months one could break through a shallower part of the water and fish. There is only one main bridge into and out of the town.

Not only that, it is a good two week journey from the capital of the realm. From the home of the cruel and disinterested High King and his council. You've only had the displeasure of seeing one of them in your lifetime, back when you were a child.

The homes are generational, built by the inhabitants close ancestors. Wood and cobblestone is the extent of the materials. Even then, cobblestone is only on the walkways and floors. Besides one building.

The church that stands at the back of the town. It's built completely of cobblestone.

That's where you almost always are.

And that's where you are now.

Ever since you spilt your first blood, you were wed to The Goddess. That was a good few years ago now. But you still felt like a piece of you was missing. The part that everyone said was filled when they met their soulmate.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts and closing your eyes. If you weren't fulfilled with having The Goddess as your soulmate, you just needed to pray harder. That's what your father said.

You're kneeled by the window on the second floor, hands clasped when —

The fluttering of wings makes you a peek an eye open, thinking that you're imagining things like you did in your childhood.

"Oh... Elhyna, li'hora," you whisper as you open both your eyes, watching the large feathered creature hop around on the window sill. You reach out slowly when you see the scroll on its foot, "long travels...?" When you grasps the paper, it flies away; its job complete. {Oh... Hello, bird.}

You hum as you look down at it. It's clearly good quality parchment, and it's sealed with red wax stamped down with the sigil of the realm. You've never seen it in real life before now, only in the old and withering books in the churches library.

"Pa!" You yell through the window to the man who's tending to the offering bowl next to the river. "A messenger bird came! It has a red seal, should I-"

"I'm on my way!" You swear you've never seen the middle aged man run so fast, he's back inside the building before you even blink.

You're sitting down with Tihilda when he busts into the room, panting and waving for you to hand over the scroll you're inspecting.

"Hand it here," he huffs, rolling up the sleeves of his white robe.

He quickly breaks the seal and unravels it, his face becoming dimmer with each word he reads. "What does it say?" Tihilda coughs as she attempts to stand, and you're there quickly with some cooling tea.

As you hold it for her, you look back towards your father. "Pa?" He's sweating. He looks like his heart is about to fail.

He crumbles it up and tosses it in the fire. "We should begin gathering some offerings to the High Council."

You see now why he was so frightened. Their species is superior to humans. They even feed on your kind. You briefly remember your encounter with the royal Lieutenant many years ago, and it makes you shiver.

"Is King Seon-"

"Ka don't speak that devil's name in this holy house!" His yell makes you jump back, holding Tihilda's ever trembling hand.

"Sorry, Pa..."

"Go, go and do ten prayers. Beg that The Goddess did not hear you summon him to you."

As you exit the room with your head lowered, Tihilda sighs. "Preacher," she shakes her head, "you are too hard on that poor girl. It is not her fault she is fated in such a way."

"She is fated to no one. She promised herself to The Goddess-"

"You don't think that will save her, do you?"

They're in a stalemate for a good moment before his shoulders slump. He makes his way to the table, helping her with the teacup she struggles to hold still enough to drink from.

"I would rather first die than let that be her fate. Let those... false men be her soul mate. I promised her mother..."

"The Goddess does not care about human promises."

"So you've said." He sets the cup down carefully and looks to her, "you still have not seen any change in her future?"

"Not since the day she was born. It is always the same. You know this. Fate cannot be changed." When he says nothing, she continues, "what did the messenger bird bring us?"

"Three of the High King's royal council will arriving in two days time. They expect five sacrifices."

"Five... Oh, heavens. How will we tell everyone?"

He hesitates, "it said not to. The smell of fear t- it taints the smell, it said. They will choose their own offerings."

"It's time to tell your daughter the truth. She cannot-"

"She never has to know. She needn't even meet the retched men. Her encounter with the Lieutenant was enough fright for a life time. We got lucky."

The old woman scoffs, "lucky."

𖤐❝Don't try to put on a brave face.❞𖤐

With a grunt of effort, the men slide the preacher's podium across the cobblestone, revealing a wooden hatch door on the floor.

Your father, since there was no discernible leader of this village, he was the closest thing to such. He gathered you all in the church pews where you would worship together, and told you all that some of the High Council would be here in 'two days time.'

Panic was immediate, but he stressed the fact that they would not be hurting anyone. They just wanted some offerings. Just to be sure, though, children would be hiding in the basement with the Goddesses trusted sisters.

You were one such sister.

It was the very early hours of 'two days time' later, and you had younger boys help you prepare for the councils arrival.

"Thank you, Oswin," you hum as he pulls up the hatch, a cloud of dust coming up with it. "Sweet heavens, when was the last time anyone went down here?"

"I heard," Cynble clears his throat, waving his hand to disperse the dust, "last time anyone was in here was last time the High King was here. About, what? Fifty something years ago?"

"That's what my mother said, her grandmother was one of the Kings meals," Oswin hands you a lantern, a frown on his face.

"My father said the same. The last time they came with warning, everyone hid," you gulp as you take a step down the old stone stairs. "Will you both be joining us in the basement? Don't try to put on a brave face. There is no one to impress."

"I will, yes." Cynble nods quickly, "my little sister as well. She doesn't even know the tales of Vampires, she thinks this is just a practice for if we get invaded."

"Mayble?"

"Yes- aaah!" The teen yells as a rat runs past you all, grabbing onto his friend's arm. "Woooooah, shit, that scared me!" He laughs with a hand on his chest, making you shake your head with a smile.

"We can see." You grin lightly as you look around the room. It has a few dusty beds. A few crates with old blankets on them, clearly used as furniture a few decades ago. "Oswin, will you be joining?"

"No, I traded my spot for my big sister."

"Why would you do that? She's an adult, we're supposed to be hiding children," you give him a questioning look as you hand him the lantern.

As he explains, you gesture for Cynble to help you in pushing the beds together.

"I heard that women and girls taste better to Vampires. Like how humans prefer sweet wine over bitter. A traveler once told me that a Vampire walked right by him even when he was bleeding, so it could drink from his wife. I have a feeling that your father isn't telling us everything, and that blood will be spilt. No- no offense meant, I just mean that, isn't it strange that the High Council would come all the way out here and not feed?"

"I agree." You cough as you yank the blankets off of the straw mattresses, going on as you gather the ones on the crates as well. "I know that my father is not telling us the truth of everything. But I do believe he is doing what he deems best."

You take the lantern and lead them back up the stairs, "we can make room for you, Oswin mi. Don't fret."

𖤐❝Sevalin bou, solenya.❞𖤐

"Down you come," you smile as the toddler waddles down the stairs, "you're so fast!"

It was near mid-day, and with no idea of when the councilmen would arrive; you all decided it was best to get into place sooner rather than later.

You had spent the morning hours cleaning the decrepit room, making it as comfortable as possible. You had it fairly well lit, dusted and swept and blankets back in place after being knocked clean.

All of the (two) babies of the village are laid on the bed with the two other nuns. The handful of toddlers are playing with one another, and the smaller group of teenagers sit along the walls.

All together, it was around twenty people in the basement.

The toddler, Mayble, was the last one. "There you go, sweetie," you pat her head as she successfully joins you at the bottom of the stairs.

You look up, meeting your father's eyes, "we won't be able to hear, but keep it to a minimum anyways, okay? Vampiric hearing is no joke."

You only nod. You're afraid of what's to come; but you don't dare show it with all of the children looking to you and the other sisters for strength.

"Sevalin bou, solenya" he smiles, sadly. {I love you, only child}

"Sevalin bou, Pa."

You turn as the door is shut, covering your eyes as dirt comes down with it. You hear the podium being slid back into place, and after that it's just muffled voices of the congregation.

"(Y/n)," Mayble pulls on your long skirt, "will you tell me a story while we wait?"

𖤐❝The more blood, the stronger the scent.❞𖤐

It was many hours later at this point, you had concluded from the amount of oil that had been burnt up in one of the lanterns. With a sigh, you take a seat on a crate near the few teens who are speaking quietly between themselves.

"Hey," Owsin hums, thankfully having joined his older sister in the basement, "we were talking about soulmates. What about yours?"

"Mine?" You chuckle softly, "no, I don't have one. Neither does Sister Brea or Sister Magiah. We're fated to serve The Goddess."

Sarin, his sister, tilts her head. "Really? No soulmate? And you're okay with that ba?"

"I can't imagine having a soulmate anyways," you smudge the truth just a bit. You can imagine it. You crave for it. You want to feel the spark that your father always described having with your mother when they touched. You want to 'feel like you're being kissed by a million butterflies.'

You wonder why he told you about that, knowing you would never experience it for yourself.

He only talked of her when he indulged in wine.

"My soul is full serving the Goddess." Oh, you'll have to pray so much for lying.

"You dare lie to me?!"

You hear a booming voice above you, making you all jump. One of the babies begins crying. Then the other.

Then some of the toddlers are whimpering and tearing up. While your sisters quickly tend to the babies, you and the teenagers are running over and shushing the children.

One of them slips away, making a break for the stairs. "Aliah!" You whisper yell, making the boy stop, "c-come. Come here, get away from there."

The boy, in his panic, knocks over the lantern you had on the last step. Thankfully, the flame goes out. But less fortunately, glass is now surrounding the boys bare feet. "Don't move ka." You whisper as you slowly come closer.

With a peek up the stairs, you slowly start scooting the glass away with your hand, making a path for him as you ignore the thud thud thud of your heart.

A loud crash spooks you, along with everyone else, and makes your hand falter in its careful movements. A large shard of glass finds its way to your palm — and you have to slap the other over your mouth to remind yourself not to scream.

You hold your pain and bear through it, clearing the way for the boy less carefully; shoving the glass away with your injured hand. You bite your lip as you move your hand, taking the boys and leading him into the group of kids; which have gathered on the beds you had pushed together. The older children surround them, wiping away their tears and praying with the sisters that the chaos went unheard.

You put your back to the bed and face the stairs, looking down at your hand. Every single movement of your fingers makes another gush of blood spurt out. It's unbearable to leave in.

Scent can't get through stone, right?

Whether it can or can't, you don't have time to deliberate. Your body wants the sharp object out, and now.

With a shaking hand, you quickly pinch the glass and yank it out, throwing your head back as you whimper as quietly as humanly possible.

Another loud crash.

Oswin comes and wraps a ripped piece of blanket around your hand tightly, making your eyes fill with tears at the compression. "Shhhh, the more blood, the stronger the scent." He apologizes with his eyes as he puts more pressure on your hand.

Light suddenly comes in through the cracks of the doors. Another crash. Someone threw the podium.

The door is quite literally ripped from the hinges.

𖤐❝I have waited an eternity.❞𖤐

The three members of the Kings council waltz through the village like they own it — because, technically, they do.

Their subordinates follow behind them loyally, as they make their way to the church at the very back of the town that could be seen from the entrance. Theres no doubt about it, that's where everyone is.

They can smell them.

One of the lower ranking men yanks the door open. The prayers stop. "Kim Hongjoong. Jeong Yunho. Jung Wooyoung." He announces them loudly.

Everyone stands up. Quickly. All of their heads bowed.

"This is certainly one of our smaller villages," Wooyoung nearly rolls his eyes as he counts how many people reside here. So little. So little people, in fact, they all fit in the modest main room of the church. No more than fifty, he sees.

"Indeed." The Lieutenant keeps it short, ignoring all the rest of the people as he makes his way to the man at the podium. "Preacher," he greets.

"My Lord, it's an honor to have you in our humble village-"

"Don't bother lying to me. I can hear your heartbeat."

The man, from his bowed position, pauses.

The Vampire laughs at the sight, high pitched and spooking a fair few of villagers. "Aaah, I know you don't want me here, so I will keep this visit short."

The preacher doesn't say anything, he isn't given the chance to as Hongjoong quickly turns away and starts scanning the standing people. "Sit." He commands, and the floor almost shakes from the sudden amount of people sitting at once.

He walks down the aisle slowly, inhaling through his nose deeply.

Obviously, fear is still clinging to the air. But not nearly as much as it would be if the preacher had told them why they're here. If they knew five of them would meet their maker soon... or wish they had.

But beneath the fear, somewhere far, is something that makes his heart beat.

His heart never beats. It hasn't in a long time.

Someone in here... someone smells beyond appetizing.

"Close the doors." The lackeys are doing so quickly, without question. "This is your entire village?" He turns his head, looking at the sweating man.

"Y-yes-" He chokes against the pressure on his neck, Hongjoong had appeared infront of him in a millisecond. He's lifting him in the air by his throat.

"Preacher, I will tell you this only once. I detest liars."

He lowers him slowly, letting go of his throat, "so tell me," he lifts his lip, showing his elongating fangs. "Is this everyone?"

"Yes, My Lord."

He growls and shoves the man away. Row by row, he makes his way down. Each face of anxiety is inspected as he takes more deep breaths. But the sickly sweet smell is stale. Like it's stuck to the walls.

Yunho and Wooyoung look on with a bit of confusion, taking inhalations of their own. But they can't latch onto what he can.

About halfway through the room, Hongjoong is stopped by Yunho, "Joong."

"What?" He snaps. He's completely abandoned his original task of picking five villagers. He only wants the one who smells like heaven.

"There is no children here. Nor teenagers. They are hiding from us."

He huffs in amusement. He was so distracted trying to pinpoint the smell that he failed to notice that everyone in the room was full grown. The smell might belong to someone who's hiding.

He needs to smell it fresh. He needs to taste it.

He's back at the podium, slim fingers gripping the wood so tightly that it creaks. Staring right in the man's fearful eyes, his begin to turn red. He can smell it clearer, like it's taunting him.

"You dare lie to me?!"

The wail of a child comes muffled in the following seconds. Then another.

"From below us?" Yunho starts looking around the floor with a small smirk. Of course he was right.

"Sneaky, sneaky~" Wooyoung joins in the search.

When one of them knocks over something and it falls with a loud bang! —

Hongjoong stumbles. The smell is stronger. Warmer. He needs it. He needs to have the source in his hands. He bares his teeth, putting all of his weight onto the podium and breaking off the sides of it. "Tell me! Before I eat every beating heart in this room and make you watch!"

"Under the podium." One of the frightened villagers whispers. Just loud enough for one of the nameless men to catch it.

"Under the podium." He repeats as he approaches quickly, grabbing the preacher by the robes and yanking him away.

The scent is growing by the second. More and more and more.

Hongjoong tosses the offending furniture to the other side of the room without a hint of trouble. His red eyes immediately trained on a hatch on the floor.

He rips it from the hinges, throwing it into the pews where people yell and cry as they scramble to move.

He's down the stairs without a second thought —

Yunho bumps into his back as he stalls on the last step, his eyes swirling with red as he gets his first scent of what's been driving the Lieutenant mad.

Golden deadnuts... So potent and sweet, like it can be tasted by the scent alone.

Hongjoong's thick boots slooooowly crush the glass below them as he steps down.

The cries of the children huddled together on the bed get louder. But the Vampires can't be bothered to hear them.

Because all of their senses are honed in on you.

"You..." Hongjoong seems to recognize you. "You were right under my nose."

Here you are. In all of your glory, kneeling on the floor with blood seeping out of the fabric wrapped around your hand. In the same village he begrudgingly left you in all those years ago.

You've grown into a woman in all these years since you unknowingly slipped away from him.

Your two pristine braids have red ribbons in them. He knows that it's a hairstyle for nuns, the color of ribbon correlating to your years of dedication. He knows that red means you were still newly promised to The Goddess, but he can't help but feel like it's for him — for them.

Yunho gulps as his eyes follow a drop of blood down your wrist. Red following red as it taints your dress.

The crimson liquid is soaking your baby blue sleeve and skirt as it drips down.

Your heart is beating so violently. You must be terrified.

You are terrified. Staring at them with wide eyes and instinctual fear making your blood gush from your wound even faster.

Their eyes are screaming 'predator' with their red gaze trained on you.

Before you know what's happening, a pair of cold hands are wrapped around your ankles. Chilling you to the bone even through your thick socks.

As you let out a primal, ear shattering scream, Oswin yells out, "no!" He goes to grab at you, but is quickly slammed to the floor by a soldier.

Hongjoong drags you across the floor, and Yunho yanks you up by your dress' collar as you get to the stairs.

You're entirely too frightened to do anything as they carry you up the short stairway.

"Good Goddess," Wooyoung trips as the smell of your blood floods the ground floor, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He's next to you in the following second.

The petrified crowd of people is stuck in place as they watch you be dropped to the floor. Be it from fear, or the archers ready to shoot at the first person who moves.

"Hid-," Hongjoong pants from the sheer force he's using to hold himself back, "hiding from your High Council? Who do you think you are?"

You only whine and shake your head, eyes going to your father who's trying to pull himself up from the same ground you find yourself on.

"Plea-" Your pleas are replaced by screams as Wooyoung yanks the impromptu bandage off of your hand. "No, no, no!"

Your flailing form is held down by Hongjoongs weight as he straddles your hips.

Both of Yunho's hands cradle your bloody arm like a piece of fine china, rolling down your sleeve; his eyes shining as his fingers come in contact with your skin for the first time. A broken moan parts his lips.

Your struggles have stopped, your fear temporarily replaced by confusion as his skin on yours makes you feel like you're floating.

Wooyoungs hand on yours has the same effect.

Hongjoong catches onto what's happening, and his hand cradles your heated cheek. He nearly collapses on top of you.

What in the world is this feeling?

"Grentizia," Yunho prays as he tilts his head back, looking at the ceiling of the church, "we have finally found her! Oh!" Another moan spills from his lips as his fingers slide in your blood.

Your eyes are still wide with a mixture of shock and fear when his face is suddenly in front of yours, "we're finally complete... I have waited an eternity."

Wooyoung's tongue twitches out of his mouth hesitantly before it dives into your hand, he holds it with his gingerly as he laps up every droplet that's pooled on your palm and in between your fingers.

You try to yank it away, try to turn away from Hongjoong's hand as it cups your cheek, try to look anywhere but Yunho.

You can't hear your father's weak protest over the thudding of your heart. This time, not from fear. This time, from... you can't tell. But as the blue haired man uses your eyes as a window into your soul, you find your skin buzzing from their direct touch.

All you can manage is, "w-what?" You don't have a soulmate. You don't. You don't. You're fated to serve The Goddess —

Yunho's lips upon yours stop any and every thought that you have. It's fleeting, but it's filled to the brim with more tingles.

He pulls back, laughing breathily, "I can't believe it. I can't believe it! Forgive me, beautiful, but I cannot wait another second or I fear I will lose what's left of my mind."

Before you can even blink; his tongue is on your arm, licking up your blood like he's starving, making you squeal and squeeze your eyes shut.

With them shut, you don't see Hongjoong looking down at you with a blush on his cold cheeks; watching his younger brothers feed on you. Watching your face scrunch up with disgust and... something more.

He leans, his breath on your face is the only warning you get before his lips are on your own. He kisses you like he's trying to leave a mark.

The little pleased moans of the others make him impossibly impatient. Usually he has better self control than this, he's the second oldest after all. "Apologies, little one." But you smell so tempting. He lifts your other arm and kisses the skin of your forearm gently before sinking his teeth into you.

A little gasp is all that leaves you. Your mind is entirely fried.

As are theirs.

You taste like nothing ever has. No blood or food compares. They'd rather starve to death than to ever go back after having their first taste. They feel the sparks they felt on their skin ten fold as they travel on their taste buds, down their throats. They settle in their stomachs with your blood like a crackling bonfire.

Wooyoung's heart feels like it might be beating just a bit too fast. Like one more push would make it explode. Along with that, he feels his pants tightening. He would fuck you right here on the floor of the worship building if he had his way. His entire being is eager to please you, to get your heart pumping more and more blood.

Yunho isn't fairing any better, sucking and kissing every little bit of crimson liquid he can get off of his fingers and your arm. He'd hold you down for Wooyoung if it meant getting a chance to see your blissed out face moaning for them. If it's anything like the view right now, he'll probably die a second time. His gaze never leaves your face as you close your tearful eyes, lips forced apart by little whines and weak protests.

Hongjoong is... Oh, Hongjoong... The oldest of the trio feels like a fledgling again. The entire situation has his cock painfully hard and his skin irritatingly warm. The final piece of their puzzle, right here infront of him. He'd hate himself for not sniffing you out earlier if his brain was anywhere near functioning; but it's not. Their final soulmate, held under his weight. He can't wait to see how the others react —

His brain comes back to him.

He hates himself for the next word he utters, but he knows it has to be done lest they send you into an even deeper shock. "S-stop."

The other two stop their feeding frenzy with soft growls rumbling up their throats. They don't want to stop. But they know better than to go against the chain of command.

Even though it felt like it did, the world did not stop around the four of you.

The royal soldiers had gotten everyone out of the basement with a small bit of struggle, and were now shifting on their feet; the smell of your blood was clearly enough to make them thirsty.

Hongjoong blinks a few times as he surveys the horrified looks of the townspeople. A smirk spreads across his bloody lips — "boo."

The simple word spooks a great deal of them, the broken silence is enough to make them jump.

He and Wooyoung laugh at their reactions, the latter playing idly with your numb fingers.

Yunho places his hand on your cheek slowly, looking down at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You're breathing heavily, eyes dazed as you force yourself to keep your eyelids open. The sweat on your skin doesn't stop the way he strokes your face adoringly. "Where have you been hiding, huh?" He chuckles quietly, the question clearly rhetorical.

Hongjoong is tired of all of these eyes on you. "Everyone out." He turns to you, then back quickly, "leave the preacher. Boys, you can feast."

Villagers start scrambling quickly, yells and cries of panic as the handful of lower ranking Vampires chase them out of the church.

It takes a good few moments for the chaos to clear, and he joins Yunho and Wooyoung in inspecting you slowly while everyone clears out. "How did I miss you, little one?" He hums, rubbing your waist leisurely, "you've grown a great deal. I forget that humans do that."

"Please, My Lords-" Your father whimpers from the bench he'd been drug to.

Wooyoung is a blur as he runs to the man, slamming a hand on either side of his shoulders, cracking the wooden pew. "You speak when we tell you to speak!! Be thankful I don't rip your tongue out for lying to us!"

Hongjoong begrudgingly gets off of your shell-shocked form, meandering his way over. "Yah," he tilts his head, and Wooyoung moves out of the way, still glaring daggers at the man who's responsible for hiding you. "I remember you now, preacher."

Yunho can't help himself, and gives your wound one chaste lick; giggling quietly at the way you shiver. He takes his jacket off, and maneuvers your limp body around to drape it around you. "W-what?" You mumble hoarsely, deep in the throes of distress.

"Shhh," he coos, carefully lifting you up. He sits you in his lap, holding back a moan and forcing himself to ignore his hard-on as he focuses on grounding you.

"Yes, I remember clearly." Hongjoong squats infront of the man, your blood still on the corner of his mouth; he licks it up slowly. "You lied to me not just today, but all those years ago. Tsk," he has to stop himself from gutting him on the spot. "You're lucky the High King didn't come himself, you'd be eating your own guts by now."

You gag at his words, slowly coming back to yourself. You feel like you're in the middle of a bad dream and a waking state. Nothing is making sense. But at the same time, it's all clicking into place.

Hongjoong looks over his shoulder, standing up. "Look who's back," he smiles in a way that might be kind. "Hello ba," he repeats your words from so many years ago, "isn't that how you said it, little one?"

You stare up at him jaw-dropped, wide-eyed. Yunho's finger brushing away a stray hair on your face feels like an electric shock, and you jolt; immediately looking down at the floor.

"T-toriel?" Your chin wobbles, and you gulp loud enough for the Vampires to hear. You look to your father, who's washed in an aura of shame and fear. "Ba sev vela toriel?" {What's happening? I don't know what's happening?}

Wooyoung leans over the back of the bench, now behind your father, and looks at him expectingly. "Sounds like she's asking you a question, Papa."

Yunho doesn't care what you're saying or about the fact that he doesn't understand it, he leans his head against yours and revels in the sound of your voice.

"(Y/n) mi, s-sev en'mali, I'm so-". {(Y/n), from my very soul, I'm so-}

"Waaaaah, holy shit!" Wooyoung reaches the conclusion first, grabbing the back of the man's neck and yanking him back. "You told her she didn't have a soulmate."

Yunho and Hongjoong both have realization fall over them. Yunho gets sad for you, while Hongjoong gets angry.

"Oh, I really have to kill you now."

"No, please!" You cry as soon as he takes a step towards him. "Please, My Lords! Have mercy on us, please, please, we-" Yunho's hand finds it way over your mouth as you plead, and your heavy hands try to pry it away.

"Is this true, preacher?" He asks, his voice lined with a barely concealed edge, "you told her she has no soulmate?"

"My Lords, you have to understand-"

"Little one?" Hongjoong looks to you, and Yunho removes his hand; instead holding your shoulder. "Tell us."

"My Lord, I- I have no soulmate, it's true. The seer- ah!" A small yelp slips up your throat as Yunho's touch once again shocks you. He has a pleased smirk. "...I'm promised to The Goddess."

"You are promised to us," Wooyoung quickly corrects you. "Your father has been spinning bull shit." He yanks the man again, and you face away as he fights back a yell of pain.

"Lying to the crown is betrayal. And betrayal is only punishable by death," Hongjoong goes to step again, but you find the strength to lift your arm and grab his hand with both of yours.

They watch on with slight disbelief as you slide from Yunho's lap and kneel, your head lowered and your arms trembling as you hold onto him. You force yourself to ignore the tingling spark.

"Please, Lord Kim..." His heart is beating again. How are you doing that? "Have mercy. I beg of you. I kneel before you-"

"Oh, stop it." He'll give in if you don't.

"Lord, he's all I have in the world. Please, spare his life..." You find yourself sobbing as you hang onto the Lieutenants hand, "I'll do anything."

The three Vampires look to each other, and glee overcomes them. "What was that?" Hongjoong smirks, and any hope your father had is shattered.

"I'll do anything..." You sniffle, your head still facing the floor when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist. They haul you up quickly, and you yelp in surprise.

It's Wooyoung, and he's carrying you down the aisle towards the door. "You'll be coming home with us."

𖤐❝Little one is brave.❞𖤐

In exchange for your father's life, you're now packing up all of your Earthly possessions.

It's hard with only one hand really functioning properly, but you've refused Yunho's help. You don't want anything from them. You don't know what kind of trickery Vampires can do, but you're certain that's what the tingles you felt are a product of.

Your parents wouldn't lie to you your entire life over something so monumental, right? Tihilda wouldn't go against her oath to help people find their soulmates, right?

The door to your home opens without warning, and Wooyoung waltzes in like he owns the place (again: because he technically does).

You sniff as you look away from him, going back to painstaking folding your laundry on the floor.

"Yah," he points to Yunho, who's sitting in the corner watching you, "are you making her do that all on her own?"

"She wouldn't let me help." He shrugs, leaning back as he watches him unroll his medical pouch.

"Come here, (Y/n)," he hums as he pulls out a vial of liquid, sitting a few feet away.

"No." You whisper, but they catch it. Of course they catch it.

Wooyoung sits up stalk straight, blinking at you in disbelief for a moment. Nobody is brave enough to say 'no' so plainly to any of them. Then, he feels disrespected. You may be one of his soulmates, but he's not going to let that slide. "No?"

It's your turn to straighten up, freezing as if you realize what you've said. "I-"

"Get over here, now."

He doesn't have to say anything more, you're sitting in front of him as fast as humanly possible; your head hung low. "I'm deeply sorry, My Lord..."

"Mhm," he tuts his tongue, grabbing your wrist gently and making it face palm up so he can inspect your injury.

You didn't like him before, when he was insufferably loud — but now you certainly don't like him, when's he's quiet with a barely concealed anger. "Forgive me ba," you expect a back hand or scolding or anything other than what you get, really.

"Give me a kiss," he says plainly, "and I'll forgive you."

You can hear Yunho chuckling from behind you, he's taken your place in folding up your clothes and packing them into the bag they've provided.

"A ki-ss?" You glitch internally. You never kissed anyone — well. You've never initiated a kiss with anyone.

"That's right." You hate that his smug little smile makes you want to do it even more.

You sigh, grab his jaw, and turn him to the side before giving him a quick peck to the cheek and retreating just as fast as you came in.

"Wow," he giggles, "you loopholed me. Very clever! I'll take it~" He carefully pulls your hand forward, "now, let me clean this up, yeah?"

You don't have much choice in the matter, but it's heartwarming that he waits for you to be ready for the sting of the disinfecting liquid. You hold back your noises of pain and breathe deeply, closing your eyes.

"Little one is brave." Hongjoong's voice makes you jump, looking to him with wide eyes for just a moment before you go back to staring at the floor like you were earlier.

Yunho tosses him the bag. "Anything else you want to take, beautiful?" You don't have much, all of your possessions fit into the one bag.

"Oh," you go to grab the item that comes to mind, but Wooyoung has a tight grip on your wrist as he applies a healing salve.

"Stay still."

"What is it?" Hongjoong asks, leaning against the wall with the bag in hand, "I'll get it."

You bite your lip. You don't want anyone else touching it. "I'll get it, My Lord."

The moment Wooyoung is done wrapping your hand, you hurry to the bed and reach between the cot and the mattress, feeling around blindly.

They watch curiously as you find what you're looking for.

A small dagger with an engraving on it that they can't quite catch even with their heightened gaze before you sheath it.

"A knife?" Wooyoung asks baffled, "aren't you a pacifist? Y'know, cause the whole nun thing?"

"Yes," you shake your head, "but I don't like being defenseless."

Hongjoong laughs softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you out of the door after you clip the weapon onto the side of your boot. "You're full of surprises, huh?"

𖤐❝You sure she won't spear us, Joong?❞𖤐

Much to your displeasure, you were on the back of a horse with Yunho sat behind you; going on two hours now.

Although you insisted that you had never ridden a horse before, and therefore had no way of knowing how to use it to run away, they seemed to think you would use it to bolt. But, truthfully, where would you even go if you did run?

You spent a good hour thinking about that over the lazy chatter of the Vampires around you. They knew where your home town was, clearly. And thankfully a lot of people were left unscathed, you saw as you were lead to the gate. Your father among them.

If you were to go back, it would undoubtedly bring chaos with you when the men who were convinced they were your soulmates gave chase.

If you were to take your chances and try for another village, you had little hope that they wouldn't follow you there as well. Being entirely honest with yourself — you didn't even know what villages or even cities were around you. You never even thought of leaving Caethnor.

You were plucked out of your safety zone and placed on the back of an animal which you had no way of knowing how to tame, with a royal council member resting his hands on your thighs and two others riding along side you.

You hadn't even noticed when the seemingly endless march came to a halt, you only looked up from the soft brown mane of the horse when you felt Yunho's ever present weight behind you leave.

You look over slowly as he dismounts, and then survey your surroundings. The small group has stopped near a narrow stream, veered off the beaten path.

"We'll stop here for the day, get some rest," Yunho explains as he sees your curious eyes looking around, lifting his hands to you, "come."

You sigh, having no choice but to lean forward and steady yourself on his shoulders as he lifts you from the tall animal. "Thank you, My Lord." Your voice waivers as do your legs while he carefully plants your feet on the ground.

"Oh, she speaks," Wooyoung jests as he leads his horse to the edge of the water, letting it drink as he pets its neck. "I was beginning to think you fell asleep with your eyes open."

"Oh, leave her be," Hongjoong chuckles as he joins him.

The group engages in conversations that you don't bother to listen to as you shuffle to the nearest tree. You lean against the bark and sigh with relief, taking some of the weight off of your weary hips.

How has this become your reality? You went from thinking you had zero soulmate, to beginning to believe you had three Vampires as soulmates.

Every time Yunhos skin brushed against yours, you felt it... the same sparks you felt in the church. And you could no longer write it off as a fear induced hallucination or the tingles of blood loss.

Like you're being kissed by a million butterflies...

You blink your tears away quickly before anyone can see them. You don't want them to ask, because you don't have an answer.

You're just confused. Confused and unfortunately, hungry.

You reach down and slide your knife out of its holder, ignoring the look that one of the soldiers gives you as you start looking around the tress for a suitable branch.

With another sigh, you push off the tree and go to your chosen branch; snapping it off the tree with a small groan of effort.

You settle further down the stream, away from the rest of them, and certainly away from the three councilmen.

You yank off your boots and socks and roll your skirt up at your hips a few times. You can still feel eyes on you, but you pay them no mind as you sit at the edge of the water and dip your feet into the water.

The longer the fish can feel you, the less spooked they'll be when you start trying to catch them.

You're thankful that everyone leaves you alone as you begin sharpening your stick to a deadly point. It would give you time to think, if you were doing that. But you found yourself with a blank mind. Maybe it was still all too much to think about.

"You think she's going to try and drive a stake through us?" Wooyoung nods towards you from where the trio sits along a fallen log.

Hongjoong hums as he moves his gaze to look at you, "no, she's not stupid. She feels it too, I know she does."

"Hey," Yunho starts, "how do you think the others will react? I think San might faint." The others laugh lightly with him.

"Seonghwa is going to be over the fucking moon."

"Mingi more, probably," Hongjoong yawns as he leans his head on Yunho's shoulder, watching as you slowly stand and make your way to the middle of the stream. "He's had to watch her all this time, in his visions. He's going to freak out when he sees her for the first time."

"Do you think she's what he imagined? He said that she's always just a blur. He can only see her soul in those vision."

"She's certainly not what I imagined. The irony is hilarious," Yunho smirks as they observe you watching the water, "I mean come on. A preachers daughter — a nun? Fated to a bunch of Vampires? The Goddess must have more of a sense of humor that we thoug- woah!" He yells as you suddenly stab into the water, your makeshift spear coming back up with a fish on it. "Good heavens!"

You smile down at the fish proudly, once again ignoring everything around you as you make your way out of the water.

"You sure she won't spear us, Joong?"

𖤐❝Death is the most human thing.❞𖤐

The sun is lowering in the sky, the day almost done.

When you started collecting fallen sticks for a fire, a female Vampire named Manon had followed you. After you gave her a questioning look, she said simply, "the Lords told me to keep an eye on you."

She's polite enough to not ask about your situation, and you appreciate that about her as you slowly begin talking more and more.

When you had been getting frustrated with starting the fire, you looked around for help and met eyes with Yunho. Without a word, he stood up and came to the small bundle. A smile on his lips as he produced fire from his fingertip and lit it ablaze. You had to stop yourself from letting your jaw drop, you had never seen a mage in action.

You were initially the only one around the fire as you cooked your fish; it seemed that the rumor about Vampires being cold blooded was true. The lowering temperature didn't bother them.

Manon was the first to join you, offering you a flask. And with the promise that it was just water, you took it with a small smile.

You were now simply staring into the flames as the sun grew ever lower in the sky. Your brain was allowing itself to think about the situation again. And you don't like that one bit.

Because that meant that you were thinking about the fact that your father, your mother, and Tihilda had all lied to you your entire life. The fact that they knew the answer to why you always said that you felt a part of you was missing, and they withheld it from you.

If they had told you the truth, would you have even wanted it? The reality of being not just one, but multiple Vampires soulmate was daunting. Everything you've heard about them. Everything they've done. What they are.

If they had told you, it might have explained a lot. Your dreams and your hallucinations as a child. They all seemed to link back to the royals.

"What are you thinking about?" Wooyoung asks softly as he lowers himself to sit beside you.

You shove your thoughts far away and clear your throat, "nothing, My Lord."

"Oh, come on," he nudges your shoulder with his light, "we have to spend the rest of our lives together, open up a bit. Or it's gonna be a rough few thous-" He stops himself, faking a cough into his elbow. "Ahem, anyways, what's on your mind?"

You eye him suspiciously for a moment in the corner of your vision. "Uhm," you dig your makeshift spear into the dirt, "just, things... when I was a child, I had these- these dreams? But, they felt like I was really there. And sometimes, they would happen. And now, I think it's because of you all."

He listens intently, leaning back on his hands.

"When I was a girl, I had a dream of Lord Kim visiting our village. And, a few days later, he did."

"Ah, that's what he was talking about? How you've grown?"

You hum affirmatively, tracing a pattern into the soil.

He watches you close, every move you make. "What else have you dreamt of as a child?"

You hesitate for a moment, like you weren't expecting him to continue the conversation. "Well," you exhale softly. May as well converse with the man that The Goddess has slapped you in the face with. "There's... there was a spirit, a man, who always came to me in my dreams- in my waking hours too. As I grew older, he went away. He would tell me to stay where I am, that my fate would come to me. For a while, I thought they were divine visions. That I was an oracle," you stifle a laugh, "I followed the villages witch around asking her how I would know when my fate found me."

"You sound like you were a cute kid," he smiles your way, and his heart starts thudding as you return the gesture. He gulps before asking, "did the man tell you his name?"

You look up at the darkening sky as you file through your memories. The dreams and the hallucinations all stopped when you first bled, when you became a woman. It was quite a few years ago by now. "Uhm," you drag on, "I don't rem-"

𖤐 You were eleven. Sitting on the steps of the village healer's home while your mother got her weekly treatment. You were sad. She wasn't getting any better.

There was a presence beside you. There was no one there. "Your aura..." It was the same voice you heard at the river. "Why are you sad, sweet child?" His voice was clearer. It had become so with the years.

"I'm not supposed to speak to spirits," you had said as you clasped your hands in prayer. When you are haunted by the spirit: pray — that is what you were told to do. "I bid you leave me be ka."

"I am no spirit, I am you and you are me. I can feel your sadness. We can feel it." There was the ghost of a hand, just the faint feeling of it. It was large and cold, it wrapped around yours in a way that felt... comforting. "I might ease your pain."

You were told that spirits were dangerous. Conniving and malevolent. That they would weasel into your heart and then take advantage of you. You knew this. But this... spirit — he didn't feel any sort of crude.

You needed comfort, and there he was.

"My mother," you whispered, "she has fallen gravely ill. She is in such pain, I fear she might not recover."

It was silent for a long moment, but you knew he hadn't left you; you still felt him in the air. "Death is..." He stalled, and you swore you could feel his sigh against your skin. "Should death come for your mother, she will be at peace. She will no longer be in pain after she joins The Goddess."

You take another long pause to register his words. "But... she will no longer be here."

"Does the thought frighten you?"

This was the longest conversation you'd had with the invisible man at the time. You always got spooked or interrupted. He'd asked many times where you were, but you were always too scared to answer should he be malicious.

"Deeply, yes." You hadn't admitted it aloud. Not even to your parents. Death, especially of those close to you, scared you. One of your friends had left the village on a trip with her family, and she did not return with them. Only sadness and grief.

"Death is the most human thing. You should not fear it, sweet child. It is only the beginning..."

The summer sun was beating down on you. His cold hand was still upon yours. "What is your name?" You had asked. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you after his comforting words. Your father said that to speak the name of evil was to bring it to you. But you wanted to know.

"Mingi." He had replied quickly. 𖤐

You turn to Wooyoung after a long moment and find him staring at you.

"Mingi."

His eyes widen at that, "Mingi?" His shock turns into laughter, "oh, oh wow! We thought he was jesting!"

Your brows push together with confusion, "what?"

"I'm sorry," he says through his giggles, "I'm sorry- it's just, that was no spirit."

"How could you know that, My Lord?"

"Because he's the royal seer. He's our soulmate — your soulmate." He watches the cogs turn into your head as you take in the information, going on to explain, "he felt it more than all of us when you were born. He nearly fell over. He started watching over you by veil walking, trying to figure out where you were. He never could, I suppose because he's never been to your village he couldn't place it."

"W-wait, what?" You hesitate, "who's 'all of us'?"

"The council." He states simply, licking his lips as he hears your blood start rushing. "We're all fated together."

You stare out at the horizon, watching the sun inch its way down. You were back to being in disbelief. Two or three soulmates, sure. A few Vampires, you could handle. But you've heard that the High King has seven council members.

"Shocking, isn't it?" He hums, leaning forward, "for us too. Vampires with a human soulmate... The Goddess should know better. I should warn you, beautiful — the King has a large appetite."

Tears are welling up in your eyes, and Wooyoung embraces you even as you try to lean away. He buries his head in your shoulder, arms locked around you. He forces himself to calm down, so close to your pulse point that he could easily take a sip. But he doesn't want to make you even more scared. He just wants to hold you.

The sun is giving its last rays of light, half way below the horizon.

You tilt your head, watching dumbfounded as something starts blocking the sun from below.

The moon.

An eclipse.

The moon is taking over the sun, blocking out its light.

As they align, it swallows the star whole.

The sun becomes void.

𖤐❝THE PREACHERS DAUGHTER❞𖤐

𖤐❝NEXT TIME❞𖤐

You feel like you've never been so exposed in your life.

There's eight pairs of eyes on you, each of which belonging to a Vampire more frightening than the last one you look at.

As you scan the royals slowly, your hand starts trembling. "Do- do I have to, My Lords?"

"Yes," Yunho meets your gaze as you come back to him quickly after taking a peek at the High King. "It's okay ba." He's taking up your dialect in your two weeks together. It makes you slightly less nervous. "We won't let them get out of control."

You take a deep breath and look down at your hands. You pinch the needle tighter and bite your tongue as you prick your finger.

𖤐❝CURSE YOUR NAME❞𖤐

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