#so the fic will touch on all those things!!

[prettyboykatsuki]

HELP ME FIND A WAY TO BREATHE | M. FUSHIGURO

♡ tags ; afab + fem!reader, aged-up characters (20s), mutual pining, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, canon divergent, sex pollen, dubious consent (they are both very enthusiastic to fuck but it is still sex pollen), brief one bed trope lol, light femdom, praise kink, penetration, unprotected sex / creampies, making out, not beta'd we die like [REDACTED MANGA SPOILERS] 18+

♡ wc ; 14.1k (???)

♡ a/n ; hello! happy june, and welcome to my first of three installments part of my @ficsforgaza intiative. please go check them out and join us in fundraising for the people of palestine.

no other really notes on this one other than it's egregiously horny and even more sappy. a super lovey-dovey pining fic. title from sleep walking by bmth

♡ synopsis ; megumi has loved you for as long as he's known you and then some - which is why he avoids going on overnight missions with you at all cost. he's going to kill gojo-sensei when he gets back.

“You should be more firm with Gojo-sensei about stuff like this,” Megumi leans back, eye twitching as he voices his complaints. “You know he always puts it on you because you won’t say no.”  

You’re sitting next to Megumi reclined in your seat. He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know what face you’re making - a forgiving smile, your eyes crinkled at the corner as you shrug unbothered.  

“It’s fine with me,” You turn your head to look at him a little better, pulling your eyes way from the window. “Just how it goes sometimes, you know? Plus, Sensei was nice enough to upgrade us and sending us on these expensive seats. When else are you gonna ride in one of these?”  

Your smile reaches your eyes, light filtering through the windows in quick motion bursts as you speed along the rails. Megumi knew that’s what you were going to say. He shakes his head.  

“Don’t make excuses for him,”  

“Don’t be so prickly,” You reprimand, a long sigh leaving your lips. You reach across the armrest and pat Megumi’s shoulder “If we finish up early, we should go sight-seeing. There’s lots of temples in Sendai I’ve never seen before.”  

Megumi doesn’t say anything to that. You haven’t moved your hand from his shoulder either. The touch is subconscious and friendly - and makes Megumi want to light himself on fire. He’s almost sure this is one of Gojo’s famous schemes, since there’s little to no reason he couldn’t handle a request like this one by himself. Or at least, Megumi could’ve gone alone and prevented himself from being alone with you on a trip for several consecutive days.  

(He’s got a special talent for avoiding this exact thing - always planning ahead and switching things around so this kind of incident never occurs. He’s had a ninety-nine percent success rate. Without Gojo’s meddling, it’d probably be one-hundred) 

There’s not a lot of information about the mission at present. The case files were barely filled out when he got them - only three papers tucked away neatly in a manila folder. On those pages are a few reports of cursed energy in the area and a map - outlining the general perimeter. From what intel the two of you do have, the concentration of said cursed energy in an abandoned commune. Megumi thinks it spells trouble, but some part of him is holding onto hope that it’s an easy to deal with curse. Something quick - so the two of you can be back on the next train ride to Tokyo.  

Pitiful yearning fills him when your hands float away from his shoulder and settle back into your lap. You’re lost in your own thoughts, eyes lidded as you stare outside of the window. He doubts you got much sleep last night. You always stay up before long trips. He sighs a little.  

“We’ve still got,” He checks his watch. “At least another hour and fifty minutes. Now’d be the time to get some rest.”  

You startle at the sound of his voice, a yawn escaping you. “No,” You whine, lips formed into a soft pout that makes the corners of Megumi’s lips twitch. “Won’t you be lonely without my company, Megumi-kun?”  

He gives you a long suffering sigh. “No. I have a lot to read. Get some sleep.”  

Your frown deepens but Megumi doesn’t budge. The both of you make prolonged eye-contact until you final give in after another yawn interrupts your protesting. Your eyes are barely open as is. How stubborn of you.  

“Wake me up like fifteen minutes before we’re there, please?” You relent.  

Megumi just nods. You smile at him and his heart beats loudly at the sight as you close your eyes and succumb to exhaustion. He starts scrolling on his phone, opening his library app to read when your head falls onto his shoulder. He goes stone stiff - body locking up and blood pressure sky-rocketing before he regains control of his senses and loosens his muscles so you don’t end up waking. He leans his head back against the cushion of the seat and takes a deep breath.  

His phone buzzes in his hand, mood dropping as soon as he sees who it’s from.  

don’t respond: my dearest megumi-chan ! have the two of you arrived safely? 

Megumi thinks about not responding, quickly reminded of the fact Gojo-sensei would not only keep texting him but abuse the ‘Notify Anyway’ option given half the chance. Ignoring the oncoming migraine, he types back carefully in order to leave you undisturbed.  

(sent 6:58pm) we’re on the train now.  

The reply is instant.  

don’t respond: oh my… how late. was there a delay.  

(sent 6:58 pm) yeah.  

don’t respond: tsk…why pay all that money for the good seats if this was the outcome... 

don’t respond: well. nothing you can do now. get a hotel in Sendai and check out the location during the day. 

Megumi squints at his phone, scowl forming instantly.  

(sent 7:02) a hotel?? what for??  

don’t respond: megumi-chan… i raised you better than this. you are going to let a beautiful young maiden walk around the dark unknown at night?  

He makes a face of disgust at the phrase. Not that Megumi thinks you aren’t beautiful, but hearing the sentiment from Gojo-sensei’s mouth is truly nauseating.  

(sent 7:02) … we’ll get the hotel. 

don’t respond: wonderful ! and if i may offer you some advice my dear boy  

(sent 7:03) please don’t.  

don’t respond: do not miss your chance ! this beautiful gift your sensei has bestowed upon you to make progress in your youthful love 

Megumi scowls. He knew that was it.  

(sent 7:04): You disliked “do not miss your chance ! this…”  

dont respond: [IMG ATTACHMENT] ��

Megumi stares at the attached meme (a dog gyaru posing) with a grimace - no doubt borrowed from Itadori or Kugisaki. He frowns, disliking that one too before putting the messages between them on mute and opening the app to read his book. He’s been reading a lot of his usual nonfiction. Lately it’s an autobiography of a famous Japanese author - Soseki, the father of all modern novels. He’s gotten farther into it than he thought he would since he’s only had it for a few days. The writing is engaging.  

He bought it per your recommendation too, so he wants to finish it. The sudden memory of that makes Megumi blush again, his skin prickling under the fabric of his uniform. 

 You’re still sound asleep beside him, your breathing even and steady. If he focuses, he can see you clearly from the corner of his eyes. The soft plumpness in your lips, and each of your lashes sitting against your cheek. 

He keeps focused on reading, though - and prays that the train ride goes a little faster.  

__ 

“Hey,” His arm feels stiff as he moves it away from you gentle, making sure to keep your head upright and steady on the seats headrest as he wakes you from your sleep. “We’re almost here.”  

He sees your eyes stir behind your lids, nose crinkling as you regain consciousness. He’s grateful you can’t see him smile at you as you wake up. Quickly getting his face back to it’s baseline neutral, he waits for you to wake up as you pull away from him and sit up. You let out a long yawn, rubbing underneath your eye as to not smudge your makeup. Blinking the sleep away from your vision, you finally open your eyes. Megumi watches on in silence, trying not to look too endeared.  

“Good morning,” You say as a half joke. Megumi doesn’t bother hiding his laugh. 

“Morning.”  

You smile at him, pleased by his response. You pat around your body looking for your phone, visibly relieved when you find it. Megumi continues watching you as you pull it up, resting your hands on the pull-out table in front of you. You chuckle at your screen. Megumi raises his eyebrow in interest.  

“Did you talk to Gojo-sensei?”  

He nods. “Couple of hours ago. Why?” 

Instead of replying, you pull your notification center down and show Megumi the barrage of texts sent two hours-ish prior. Your phone must’ve been on DND while you were asleep since Megumi hadn’t heard them either. There’s at least ten messages. Megumi scowls in displeasure, and you break out into a terribly lovely laugh seeing it.  

“See what I mean? If you give sensei an inch, he’ll take a mile. Why is he texting you this student this much?” 

You can’t suppress your giggles. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s a little lonely now that you’re old enough to do things by yourself - that’s all.”  

“Then he should bother me instead of you,” Megumi grumbles. Your smile doesn’t fade.  

“He texted you afterwards, so I guess it’s a start.”  

“Stop being so nice to him.”  

You laugh again. Megumi tries not to smile and ultimately succeeds.  

You study him for a brief moment before reclining a bit.   

“Guess I’ll have to be extra nice to you, then.”  

A blush crawls up the back of his neck almost instantly. Your grin has a crooked edge, a touch of mirth and amusement that makes Megumi want to crawl into somewhere dark and disappear. Warmth and restless makes home in his ribcage, your perception endlessly tormenting. You don’t tease him more than that, allowing Megumi catch his breath.  

“I don’t even know how that’d be possible.”  

“Really?” You say without missing a beat, not even looking at him as you gather up your things. “I can think of plenty of ways to be even sweeter to Megumi-kun, though?”  

He can feel the blush deepen. His cheeks are undeniably crimson by now, he’s sure - and he can barely stand the soft quality in your voice long enough to breathe. You’re still calm, the words genuine but undeniably tilted along the axis of teasing. If Megumi were any less stubborn, he might even beg you for mercy. He is, of course, incredibly bull-headed and refuses to do so. He huffs a little instead. 

“You make it sound like there’s some quota for it.” He says, kind of lamely. Your eyes flutter, something passing in your gaze - gone before Megumi can get hold of it and know what it is. You make an impassive noise, but don’t say anything in reply. Your non-answer makes him think that you might really have one. He tries not to blush any more than he is now and shakes the thought off.  

“You all ready to go?” You ask finally. He lets out a sigh of relief.  

“Yeah. Should be.” Megumi replies, looking down at his phone for the time. It’ll be closer to 9:30 by the time you get out of the station. “Dunno if you read Sensei’s messages but he told us to stay the night at a hotel first since it’s already this late and it’s nothing urgent.”  

Your brows raise in surprise before you nod. “That’s probably smart. As much I’d love to be done sooner, probably not the best idea to go lurking around in the night. We’ll do that, then.” 

“I’ll start looking at hotels,” Megumi adds.  

“Thanks for being so helpful, Megumi-kun.”  

He rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”  

__  

“This is…really the only place with available rooming for tonight?”  

Megumi looks at you with an absent grimace, affirming you with a curt nod. You glance at each other, sharing mutual disbelief and basking in the solidarity of your absurd situation for a bit. A long silence stretches over you both, a weighted quiet that makes Megumi wish a giant curse would literally swallow him into the ground.  

He wishes he had some explanation for this. His name meaning blessing feels like a spit in the face given how deeply unlucky everything about this mission has been so far. 

Of all the hotels in Sendai, the only one within reasonable distance of your mission site that is accepting last minute is a love hotel. A love hotel is something of a non-issue. It’s a tourist misconception to view them as kinky paradises. More modern love hotels are usually just short stays - last minute bookings with cheap prices and always adult. The full blown kinky stuff tends to stay in the several entertainment districts scattered across Japanese metropolitans.  

It’d be nice if that was the case here, but based on various reviews and the neon flashing blue sign at the top of the building - this is definitely the kind of love hotel for couples. The kind used for sex. It’s the only one in proximity accepting last minute bookings, and the only hotel for miles. Megumi lets out a long suffering sigh. He can see you smiling sympathetically from the corner of his eye.  He pinches the bridge of his nose as a new wave of regret settles in his bones.  

“I’m sorry,” Megumi says, unsure of what else to say. He is truly and deeply sorry for the level of misfortune he seems to have around you. You shake your head in reply, shrugging.  

“Let’s make the best of it,” You respond, pausing before going on. “Sensei is going to be really annoying about seeing this charge on his card, huh?”  

Megumi must look as distraught as he feels because you laugh immediately at his expression. You squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, though you clearly find it funny. “Sorry, sorry. It’ll be fine. Maybe he won’t notice.”  

 Gojo-sensei tends to keep tabs whenever people are away on missions. It’s a common precaution for sorcerers, and when more experienced sorcerers relegate their own work - they are solely responsible for that task. Megumi can only hope he’s too busy to keep watch on it for the night. Realistically though, it means Sensei will definitely see.  

Megumi decides to overlook this information as best he can. At least for now. 

You trek into the hotel with your away bag, Megumi in-step behind you with his head hung low. 

It sounds corny to him retroactively (he can’t help but cringe when he says it aloud), but Megumi had foolishly hoped he could be somewhat useful to you in this mission. Every fight the two of you have been in together, you’ve saved Megumi’s skin at least once. He’s incredibly aware of the increasing debt between you. Thank you’s and paid dinners stopped being enough a long time ago. He wasn’t…hoping to be a knight in shining armor or anything like that - but he really wanted to do more this time since you’re already going together.  

You probably understood that talking to the front desk in these conditions would give him a hernia and took the responsibility on without complain. You make these acts of consideration look easy and natural - smooth like the flow of water. Megumi has yet to learn how to swim against the tide instead of getting swept up in its motion.  

Despite Megumi’s countless attempts at repaying your kindness, he’s never been able break even. He reflects on this as you speak to the woman at the front desk.  

The lobby of Hotel:SAPPHIRE is exactly what someone might expect from an actual love hotel. The lights are dim even up front and there’s a lot of glittery, mildly gaudy decor. Aside from the front desk, the first floor hosts some kind of amenities store and a lounge or bar.  

 Megumi’s awareness of his surroundings is making his blush worse. He’s not concerned by being seen in a love hotel, as much as he’s hung up on the idea that people are assuming you’re both a couple. Rationally, he knows that means nothing. You’re two people of the opposing gender and similar age - of course people would think that.  

Still, it makes him so…ugh…shy, he could genuinely die of misery.  

He tries his best to zone out, but ultimately can’t. He tunes in to listens to you talk to the woman at the front desk instead.  

“There’s probably no double beds here, huh?” You ask. The woman at the front desk gives you a confused look of both sympathy and apology. You shake your head with a pleasant smile.  

“Yeah. I thought so. What’s the nicest room you have?”  

“We have a queen room, with a queen bed, couch and a jacuzzi. It has one of our more spacious bathrooms as well.”  

Megumi closes his eyes. Your reply is chipper. “Sure! We’ll take that one.”  

“And how long will you be staying?”  

“About five days?”  

His eyes snap open. Megumi gives you an incredulous look from where he’s standing. You turn back with a small smile as if having predicted it and then shrug again.  

“I still wanna go sightseeing.”  

He can’t say anything to refute you in the moment, despite how much he’d like to push back on the idea. You’re definitely enjoying yourself, at least. Maybe he should’ve expected that. You’re not exactly the type to get easily embarrassed. Even getting the words of complaint out feel too humiliating given the context. He sighs.  

“Whatever,”  

The woman at the front desk, increasingly baffled by the nature of your relationship, puts you down for five days before handing you two room cards.  

She briefly explains some of the perks, and gently points you to the small store which freely offers things like lube, condoms, scented lotions and oils, and bath products. It’d be great if some meteor hit Earth right now and killed him (and only him) instantly. You give her your kindest thanks and take the two room cards, turning around to pass one over to Megumi. He gives you a long look. You reply with two thumbs up and goofy grin.  

“Let’s go to the little store place!”  

“Why the hell would you want to do that” Megumi hisses, blushing profusely. You are predictably nonplussed by his reaction.  

“I want to see the scented lotions. A souvenir. If you will.” 

It’s truly imperative to to him in that moment he remembers how often you’ve saved him from mortal peril. He relents easily after that, trailing along behind you.  

It’s less of a store and more of a display case of possible lewd items on four sides of a centered wall, with just enough space to walk around. Megumi stonewalls as soon as the two of you are within five feet of it. You take your time looking through the different thing and snickering at the display case.  

At one point, you tug Megumi’s sleeve and snap him out of his trance. He begrudgingly follows your gaze, eyes widening at the display case of condoms. There are so many condoms. He didn’t even know they made that many kinds.  

“Maybe we should bring one? You know, just in case.” You do a stupid wiggle with your eyebrows. Megumi is painfully aware it’s just jokes, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, elbowing you lightly.  

“Fuck off.” 

Your voice is sing-songy as you continue your tirade.  

“You never know, Megumi! What if end up in a condom emergency trying to fight curses?”  

“Please shut up.”  

Your laughter sounds again behind your closed fist, but you’re merciful and turn the corner to look at everything else.  

You indeed pick up two scented lotions and a bath bomb before you finally agree to retire to the room.  

__  

Megumi is rendered speechless when you finally unlock the door to your room.  

He isn’t sure why. He should’ve expected much worse.  

The room is big as promised. Probably three times the size of his own dorm at Jujutsu Tech. There’s one bed in the middle (certainly king-sized, not queen) - with a couch and glass table adjacent to it along the back wall. The couch is upholstered with a creaky, gold fabric and the walls are painted mostly white with the exception of one wall being painted sapphire blue, decorated with a rose mural. The throw pillows and complimentary blanket share a familiar loud pattern, incorporating all three colors and stitched with gold threads.  

There’s rose petals everywhere. On the bed, floor, and the table. The glass table accompanying the couch even has two champagne flutes and complimentary bottle to go along with it. There’s a present box on the bed, wrapped in shiny white wrapping paper and a sickly sweet, red bow.  

Megumi doesn’t want to know what’s inside.  

You shut the door behind him after dragging in the rest of your luggage.  

The two of you take in the view together for a minute before Megumi hears you break out into a long fit of laughter, making him jolt. He looks over at where you’ve dropped down into a squat, giggling hysterically beside him. He feels suddenly winded from the days events as you break the tension.  

After you gather yourself you stand to your feet and look at him warmly, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Megumi wishes he could take it as easy as you.  

“Ahh…hehehe..” You put a hand over your mouth trying to suppress the sound as you turn away. “Okay, sorry. Uhm. Hah. Do you want to shower first or should I?”  

Megumi responds reflexively. “You can shower first.”  

You nod, yawning as you stretch your arms up. He forces himself not to look at the way your shirt rides up over your stomach. Patting his shoulder after collecting yourself, you shoot him a tired but reassuring smile. At least he knows you’re both exhausted.  

“Thanks, Megumi-kun. Do me a favor and order room service, please? I’m starving.”  

He nods. “Do you want to look at the menu?”  

You wave your hand dismissively, taking your bag and turning to the bathroom. “I trust you know me well enough to know what I want.”  

The instant preening internally makes Megumi want to crawl in a hole. He’s glad you can’t see him.  

“Yeah. Go shower, already.”  

“Mm,” You make a noise as you stretch. “Will do.”  

__  

The room is unnaturally dim.  

There’s a movie playing in the background as both you and Megumi sit on the bed. You’re doing some work on your laptop - typing in short bursts every few minutes. Megumi has no idea what you’re working on. You’re oddly meticulous with paper work but aside from the disaster of finding room and board - there isn’t anything to report on.  

Whatever it is though, you’ve been working on since you finished dinner an hour ago - nursing your beer while typing away.  

Megumi glances at you from the corner of his eyes, heart unfairly racing at the lack of distance between you. He really should be past this. Your skin is damp from the shower and you smell like the scented lotion from earlier which makes him feel weird and warm. He decided to drink with you, but his tolerance is much worse than yours so he feels a little tipsy. He isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Dealing with everything sober hasn’t been very fun.  

He’s staring at you openly but you’re too preoccupied to take notice. He’s kind of grateful. His fingers tap the sides of his can as his eyes flits up to the cheap action movie playing on the TV.  

After a little longr, you stretch your arms over your head and shut your laptop. 

“All done with your work?”  

You blink rapidly, momentarily taken aback before smiling. “Yeah. Finally.”  

“What were you actually doing?” 

“Started on the report and then dug around some old archives for information on the commune.”  

“Did you find anything?”  

You laugh humorlessly. “More or less? But nothing we couldn’t have figured out on our own. The commune was more like a curse cult but it ran functionally for almost ten years. They did some type of curse breeding.”  

“Curse… breeding? As in like…?” Megumi asks, making a face.  

“It’s what it sounds like? I think. There’s not really any more information. The uploaded documents were barely legible. How it works, why they did it, and if it was effective - we have no information on that. Just that there was some powerful curses in the area in the late nineties.”  

“In the nineties? So it’s been what, decades since any activity? Why now?”  

You shrug. “Best guess is that the sudden uptick in tourism caused it. You know, Sensei had some business in Sendai a few years back. It was right before Itadori-kun got hold of Sukuna I think. It’s not impossible for all of it to be connected.”  

Megumi sighs. “Don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”  

“I want to look into Gojo-sensei’s case right now but,” A yawn interrupts your train of thought. “We’ll need to be up and at ‘em early tomorrow.”  

“Right,” He says, immediately preparing to sleep on couch and praying you won’t notice. “Goodnight, then -“  

His plans are foiled fast of course. Before he can get up, you tug at the sleeve of his robe. Your face is flush from beer and sleep. You’re so effortlessly alluring to his brain he’s irritated. The motion picture casts a soft glow on your features, picturesque in how pretty you seem to be with no effort.  

“Where are you going?”  

“To sleep on the couch.”  

“I can’t let you do that,” You shake your head. Megumi says nothing. “I’ll take the couch.”  

He purses his lips. “Did you think I was gonna say yes to that?”  

You press your lips into a flat line. “No…not really. But.. I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It’ll be a long day and you need rest,” You smile at him sleepily “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”  

“Absolutely not,” He replies instantly. You pout at him. Damn it. 

“Megumi-kun, please? We can just put one of the pillows between us.”  

Megumi stares at you with a hardened brow. He knows from experience that a pillow would barely resolve the issue. A lesson he learned at fifteen where a similar incident had you both sleeping in the same tent.  

You move in your sleep. A lot. As a result, fifteen year old Megumi spent an entire night with you, paralyzed by the lack of distance and missing an entire night of sleep. Every muscle in his body in his body had set rigid like early onset rigor mortis from stress that night.  

He barely slept. Worse, the next morning Sensei had practically harassed him about his disheveled state. Megumi couldn’t look you in the eye for the rest of the mission, though he got over it eventually. Only because you seemed very troubled when he didn’t talk to you.  

You’re making a similarly distressed expression now at the thought of making Megumi sleep on the couch. He winces, swayed with embarrassing ease. The feeling fades after he sees how brightly you smile.  

“Thank you,”  

He wants to ask why you’re thanking him, but doesn’t know if he can handle hearing the answer so he says nothing. You turn the TV off and finish your beer and toss the can before returning to bed and undoing the covers. Megumi sits on the edge, watching as you rearrange the various pillows. You place a body pillow in between the both of you and fluff up another pillow to give to Megumi. You smile as you hand it to him, and he takes it with a soft blush.  

He reminds you to go brush your teeth and watches you pad off to go do it, sighing and trying to meditate before it’s his turn to do the same. The alcohol is wearing off quicker than he hoped.  

The room is nearly pitch black except for a single dim light when Megumi comes back from the bathroom. You’re already in bed, and you smile when Megumi emerges with a stupidly cute giggle following. He’ll never get used to you, he’s sure.  

Megumi craws into bed beside you. The bed is wide and spacious - and there’s plenty of room seperating you. He isn’t any less self-conscious of the fact he’s still sleeping in a bed next to you though, for better for worse.  

“Night, Megumi.” You mumble, barely awake. You’ll fall asleep fast. Megumi reaches over and turns off the lights.  

“Night.”  

He lays in the dark, facing the other wall and waiting for your breathing to go even. Compelled to turn towards your back, Megumi does so as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. He can make out your silhouette in the dark, tracing the outline of your shoulder with his eyes as he continues to feel incredibly nervous and lovesick. He’s been pining like this for so long, he finds it pathetic.  

 You’re less than a few feet away but he can barely bring himself to look at you. Oddly overwhelmed, he lets his eyes close and tries his best not to think too much about the next few days.  

__  

Against all odds, Megumi sleeps well and wakes up feeling better.  

You, of course, moved around a bunch in your sleep - ending up on his side of the bed with a single arm thrown across his waist and your face in his chest. He woke up earlier than you, thankfully - and carefully pried himself from your touch to take a cold shower in the bathroom and not die of embarrassment at the resulting morning wood. 

You were awake by the time he got out. After you were both ready for the day, you ate breakfast together and had coffee before leaving the hotel. The whole situation was more embarrassing during the daylight.  

Your hotel is a twenty minute drive from the site location of the mission. A quick taxi cab ride to a small temple. Navigating isn’t exceptionally difficult. The temple itself is somewhat obscured, not marked on any online maps. It’s well known locally though, enough that a taxi driver could take them towards the bottom of the hill where it’s located. It’s listed as a temple, but on further inspection it’s a small and worn shrine. The details about the shrines origin or history are unclear even.  

After arriving, you were both relying on the provided map. The commune itself is away from civilization. A couple hundred meters Northeast from the temple sight is a path through the forest - leading out to the clearing where the commune is supposedly located.  

The communes ruins are a one straight distance after that. If someone was taking a short hike, it wouldn’t be hard to find.  

So it isn’t difficult to find for the two of you either.  

Megumi’s shikigami follow along side him, divine dog sniffing along the trail. You’re up front, checking the path and making sure the trail is correct, as well taking notes for your report later on.  

You turn your head and share a look with Megumi - no doubt feeling the same thing he does. There’s cursed energy around here, but it’s weird and hard to trace. Neither him nor the Shikigami can make sense of exactly where it’s coming from.  

Eventually, you come across stone - laid deliberately like a pathway, and glance at Megumi with hopeful eyes.  

A clearing comes in view. Ruins, with cursed energy brimming somewhere within them fall into his sightline. It’s a bigger location that Megumi thought it’d be - stretching out far despite hosting so few residents. There are dilapidated cabins and other buildings, the place filled with overgrowth and ivy. Shattered windows, graffiti, and trash affirm to Megumi that this place was found by other people at one point or another.  

Megumi stands besides you as you assess the situation, silently taking the lead. You step forward, further in. A sigh leaves your lips as you turn to Megumi.  

“We’re here but,” You scratch the back of your neck. “What to do now is…”  

“What are you thinking?”  

You sigh. “Part of me wonders if we should split up to check the buildings, but the information is so vague that I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”  

“It’s fine.” Megumi assures. He’s not thrilled but splitting up for now is the best course of action. He can handle himself. He’s sure you’re worrying about that. “As long as we can hear each other, it should be fine.”  

Your concern muddles your features, brows drawn together as you frown. You relent eventually though. Megumi feels the corners of his mouth twitch up at how long you think about it.  

“Okay then,” You use your fingers to point towards the left half, right at what looks like an abandoned dormitory. “I’ll go look in there. Megumi-kun can go that way. And if anything sticks out, call for me immediately.” 

“Don’t worry so much.”  

“If it’s Megumi, I can’t help but worry,” Your reply comes in the same beat. He feels himself blush, casting his gaze to his Divine Dog with a frown.  

“I’ll be fine so let’s hurry up and look around already.” 

You still hesitate to part ways with Megumi, but you budge eventually. He waits for you to summon protection for yourself, watching in awe as you unzip a deck of cards from the side pocket of your uniform. Beautiful, steel enforced hanafuda cards shine in the daylight. You shuffle them with your eyes closed, feeling along the backs for the right one before sliding the set back into your uniforms compartment.  

You make a gesture to follow along with the command two-handed tanzaku, ten points - and Megumi watches the curse manifest around your arms. A strand of bi-colored tanzaku paper appears in your hand, razor-sharp with cursed energy. You coil it around your wrist before turning to Megumi with a small smile.  

Despite how often he’s seen you do it, the appreciation in your face at the newly summoned curse make his emotions bubble and swell with impossible longing.  

“Let’s meet back here if we get lost,” You say precariously. Megumi huffs.  

“We won’t get lost. It’s barely that far.”  

You pout at him. “It’s better to be safe then sorry.”  

He wants to ask when you’re doing when you drop down to your knees - but the words die in his throat as your hand comes up to pet his shikigami affectionately. You give it a small smile. “Please take care of Megumi-kun in my absence.”  

The Divine Dog lets out a pleased chuff that makes you smile.  

“….We’ll be fine,” He says - because as much as he would like to make fun of you for it, he finds it all terribly cute. You stand back up to your feet, seemingly more reassured. That’s good at least. “I’ll go ahead, then.”  

Megumi turns to leave before you can get another embarrassing word in edgewise, blush crawling up against his skin. Once he hears your foot steps fall lighter and lighter in the opposite direction, he takes moment to steel himself and prepare for the mission.  

It’s easier to tear his mind away from you when the threat of mortal peril looms - so for once, Megumi is just a little grateful to be a sorcerer.  

He takes a better look at his surroundings, shikigami sniffing along the crumbling pathways of the ruined commune and searching for a scent. It’s a strange place with a strange aura, aside from the curse. There’s not much way to describe other than tiny village. The half you’ve gone to explore seems to be nothing but houses and communal living - with some kind of central house if Megumi had to guess based on it’s layout.  

Where Megumi is walking along though seems to be amenities. On the right is open space - rustic wood stakes stuck into the ground with clothes-wire with a rotted fence separating it from another big patch of dirt. There’s signs tacked onto some of the structural poles along the outside, but they’re too dirty for Megumi to read. It’s easy to tell from how crude everything is that all of it was hand-made.  

On the left of him are storage sheds and old-crates that have somehow stood the test of time - covered in dust and dirt and moss. One of the storage sheds has a completely collapsed roof 

It’s entirely uninteresting, and that feels unsettling. The cursed air still lingers, but the familiar acrid scent doesn’t seem to be there. It’s something else, something new - and it’s simmering under the surface. Neither he nor his Shikigami seem to pick up on anything clearly. 

After a few minutes of walking, Megumi thinks they start to close in on the end of the trail. His shikigami suddenly comes to life. He looks forward.  

At the end of the trail, obscured by more forest and trail is a greenhouse. It’s made with all glass, and there’s moss and condensation surrounding it. Something about it feels alive, but Megumi can’t tell if that’s just his well-developed paranoia.  

“Go find her,” Megumi says. The shikigami makes an affirmative noise and darts off in the opposite direction as Megumi closes into the building and surrounding structures.  

The front door of the structure is pried open and pushed against the wall. It’s an interesting shape - a half-dome and much bigger than how it looks from the outside when Megumi steps in. Too big. It’s weird.  

All of the hair stands on the back of Megumi’s neck as he stands inside of it. He fits with plenty of space to move his limbs. There are raised beds along both sides of the facility - the material boxing them in now covered in dirt and dust. Overgrowths and some kind of small plant crush underneath his feet and surround him. It smells… sweet. Very sweet but distantly. Megumi can’t figure out what it is. Towards the back are gardening tools and a table with things on it.  

It’s here. This is the center of whatever unusual cursed energy he’s been feeling since they’ve been within one-hundred feet of this place. It’s in here, surrounding him.  

His skin starts to feel hot. He figures the presence of the glass might be concentrating sunlight and brushes it aside.  

He doesn’t get much time alone in his assessment of the place. A few minutes pass before you find him again, smiling at him upon your return. Megumi’s heart does a soft pitter-patter as you enter, his shikigami proudly behind you. There’s a sudden leap in his affection laying eyes on that doesn’t make sense. It’s unusual and unprofessional for him to get so caught up on it during a mission. He’s had enough with you to know how to tamp the feeling down. He has a hard time with it this time thought but shakes it off.  

“Did you find anything?” Megumi asks. Your tanzaku is wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, Megumi notices.  

“Yeah, actually. Notes. I didn’t get much time to check and a lot of them were too water-damaged to read, but I think curse breeding might’ve been an inaccurate,” You say, scratching the back of your neck. “It seemed like something else. With different kinds of cursed energy, or something to create more output.”  

Megumi doesn’t know what that means, and it must show on his face because you laugh in understanding. “Yeah. It wasn’t clear to me either but I haven’t seen everything yet. I thought I should come here first so we can expel whatevers here.”  

“That’s the problem, though.” Megumi says. “Can’t figure out what exactly is here. The cursed energy is…”  

“Obscured,” You say easily. Megumi nods.  

“Exactly,”  

“Never seen anything like this before, honestly.”  

Megumi is surprised by that. You’ve been a special grade for a long time, the extent of your abilities equal to Okkotsu-senpai He doesn’t know how worried he should be. You’re focusing hard as you look around. 

He tries to do the same, wants to contribute more to the conversation but his mind feels strangely cloudy. He slept well he thought. Maybe the heat is bothering him more than expected. The uniforms have always been stuffy during summer.  

You step around around him to look at your surroundings better, but find the same problem.  

After a minute or two of aimlessly searching, something seems to click in. You drop down to your knee. Your fingers caress whatever is sprouting in the ground underneath you. Plucking one from the soil, you bring it up to your face and frown. You’re gentle with the petals. It looks like a clover of some kind, but the color is too bright - more like a small flower maybe. He’s never seen anything like it.  

Megumi feels his skin go hot again watching you touch it. It’s odd. Too sudden and almost nonsensical, how much magentism he feels towards your innocuous gesture.  

There’s another shift in the air, deliberate - and something moves underneath Megumi’s feet. Your voice is panicked as some sudden realization dawns on you, his shikigami barks loudly.  

Everything moves around him in a daze. His ears are ringing suddenly, heart thumping hard against his chest as the flowers beneath him move and distort into tendrils, curling around his ankles.  

“Megumi-kun, we have to get out of here. We have to—“  

Your words are cut short before he can heed them. A scream rips from his chest as the ground opens up and swallows him whole. 

__ 

He falls for a long time. It seems endless.  

His voice is trapped in his throat, despite his attempts to scream. His body weightless, crashes through empty space for what feels like hours. Despite the situation, all Megumi can worry about is you. You aren’t falling beside him though he’s sure you came in together. The whole that ripped the ground was too big for that not to be true. The thought of you dying is so familiar, but it makes Megumi want to throw up mid-air.  

The crash comes eventually. Bracing himself for impact as he falls backwards , he lands onto something like grass. It’s not painful in the least. His skin prickles at the sensations surrounding him. Saccharine sweetness distorts the air, an artificial scent clogging his lungs as he gasps and opens his eyes.  

He senses a presence next to him and turns to find you beside him in the grass. His body aches, both wanting to find relief in the fact you’ve appeared beside him and feeling uncertainty at the same fact. Cursed energy seeps through every inch of this place, and part of him worries you’re some kind of illusion or mirage. Regardless, he calls out for you and hopes you’ll answer.  

“Hey,” He tries saying your name but you don’t budge. He nudges your arm but retracts just as quickly, hissing - the sensation making his skin burn at point of contact. A hole sears in your uniform where he touches you. “Wake up, shit. Please wake up.”  

After another minute, your eyes open. Megumi lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. You groan as you sit up. Megumi sits up with you.  

“Fuck,” Your voice is thick as you sit with one leg up, a pressing a knuckle to your temple. “My head is pounding.”  

Megumi makes a noncommittal noise. “Yeah. I can’t tell what kind of domain this is.”  

“These were just apart of the curse, then. I felt something off of them but..,” You pick a flower up from the grass and it..moves. He frowns. “They must just be apart of the domain. Which means there’s a special grade behind this.” 

Right. Megumi has been too hung up on everything else to make proper note of that. He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to absorb his surroundings. The air around him is hazy pink. He can’t acclimate to it, breathing shallow. From the flower-curse you picked, to the plants on the trees nearby. It’s lush and humid, but the makeup in the surroundings is dreamlike. A woodland forest of some kind, maybe. There’s a waterfall and round body of water, a short distance away and trees on every side. It’s alarming in how beautiful it is, disconcerting since the cursed energy inside is potent enough to make all the hair on Megumi’s neck stand straight.  

“My, my. What delicious sorcery I’ve stumbled upon,”  

Megumi looks around to try to find the source of the voice but comes up with nothing. You and Megumi share a look in silent understanding.  

“An unregistered Special Grade in the underground of Sendai.” Your voice is resolute. It sounds so different to how you usually speak, firm and cold. “How did you obscure your cursed energy like this.”  

“So many questions. Don’t be so hostile to your host,” The voice is soft and feminine but deeply distorted at the same time. Grating. “I’m a benevolent spirit, little sorcerer - so I won’t kill you right away. Keep in mind you are in my domain. To attack me would be unwise. And I promise, you’ll feel good until the very end.”  

You quiet, assessing the situation. There’s so little about the curse that either of you can make out. The curse is intelligent enough to bargain - to reason, which means the danger you’re both in is substantial enough to be incredibly cautious. You realize it quickly, Megumi is sure. He shoots you a look, your brows furrowed as you try to make everything make sense.  

“What are you after?”  

“You must know, little sorcerer. Human desire is filthy thing. Money, power, fame.” The air changes around you - flowers besides you blooming higher and higher until you’re all but surrounded. The sickly sweet scent becomes stronger and headier. Megumi’s lungs fill with the strange gas, burning the back of his throat. He coughs, trying to expel it. “What beautiful curses are born from pent-up and unspoken wants.”  

“Fuck this is so irritating,” You seem to be in a similar condition, holding up your first to your mouth as you cough along side him 

“Human beings are so foolish in the face of lust, so inducing such a fever is easy. But the results can be so lackluster.” The curse is taunting, giddy at the prospect of you. “How lucky and I to come across such talented jujutsu sorcerers with such ripe energy, hm?’ 

“An underhanded method like this,” You talk mostly to yourself. “Your physical form must be weak, then. To obscure yourself inside of your domain.”  

Megumi can feel the cursed energy amplify, a sneer in the Special Grade’s voice.  

 “How clever.” It remarks sarcastically. “But not clever enough. It’ll be staring any minute now. Fight it to your hearts content, little sorcerer. I’m looking forward to the show.”  

It’s only a split second before the heat starts to sink into Megumi’s body. He burns so intensely, so suddenly - it makes every other sensation feel trivial. It’s painful, searing, and all-consuming. Breathless, he feels his vision blur as a strong wave of physical arousal completely dominates him. It’s like an injection, nerves on high alert as he pulls at the neck of his uniform and gasps. The flowers surrounding you bloom into something grotesque, an open mouth in the center hissing out more of the pink hazy gas that’s surrounding you before turning again, until you can barely see a few feet away from each other. Megumi can feel the cursed energy course through his body, like pure fire in his blood stream. His cock is hard as steel, makes him feel like he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t touch himself.  

Forcing himself to remain steady for as long as he can, he searches for you. Your condition isn’t better as you lean back on your palms - your chest heaving in out as visible arousal paints your face. You share the same pain, the same lust, the same fever. The thought of it makes Megumi’s cock stir again shamefully.  

“I’m sorry,” Megumi can barely make out his voice. It’s so painful. His entire body feels like it’s screaming but  he can’t bear the idea of forcing you to touch him. These conditions, this situation - this terrible heat. Whatever loose threads of rationale are keeping him afloat in these few minutes are begging him to find a way out of this. 

He knows it’s the circumstances. No one understands things like this more clearly than him but he feels deep resentment anyway. Mostly towards himself. “I’m sorry.. aah, fuck - I don’t want to force this.”  

“Megumi-kun.” You manage to voice some of your lucidity like he has, the brunt of it closing in. He feels like he’s only deluding himself, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “Come here.” 

“No,” He almost screams it. He wants too. But he can’t find his voice to speak to you like that. He hopes the urgency reaches you. “I’m sorry. Shit, shit—”   

He doesn’t want to shatter the thing he’s so desperately protected - to ruin the relationship he’s felt so precious about so many years of his life. He doesn’t want it to happen this way. He can feel the self-loathing as he bites his tongue. 

 He’s dreamed of it so often, to touch you and kiss you and hold you. But at the hands of a curse feel so unfair.  

“It’s okay,” Your voice is so soft - a salve to his nerves. A balm to ache of his whole life, calm and smooth and so kind. He burns so deeply he wants to scream.  Your expression is somber but still assured. “It’s okay. It hurts right? So it’s fine.”  

He closes his eyes. Such a pure despair. Fuck. Tears well up his vision. The pain is unbearable without you. Perhaps it’s always been that way.  

“Please,”  

A desperate attempt to no one to wake up from this.  

“Megumi-kun,”  

It’s the sound of your voice, calling his name so assuredly even in the face of death, that finally makes Megumi shatter. The heat overtakes him. Posesses his sense and forces  him onto you like a lifeline.  

He throws himself at you in the grass, almost knocking you back with the force of his body. Both hands clasp your face as he presses his lips with yours with nothing but desperation. It’s less of a kiss and more of crash landing. He can feel his own conflict stirring inside of him but the relief of your touch drowns out his surroundings. All else in the world becomes silent except the taste of your mouth and the feeling of your face. How much he’s longed to this very thing, dreamed of it. Years. Over a decade of his life hiding in your beautiful shadow.  

You pull away from Megumi with a gasp and your face makes his entire body jolt. A flush dusts along your cheekbones as your hands reach for his shoulders. His head feels light. He can feel his cock twitch at the contact, suddenly gaining awareness of just how hard he is.  

“Megumi-kun,” You sound so serious it jolts him awake. His eyes open wide as he watches you undress hastily. You’re stumbling in your movements as you take everything off as quickly as you can - grabbing Megumi by the collar as he sits stiffly. “Take it off. All of it. Now, please.”  

At his wits end, he does. His hands tremble. His rational mind is fighting him at every gesture but his clothes feeling so constraining, binding him. His skin prickles, an itch skipping over his whole body as he takes everything off as fast as his hands allow. His vision is distorted from the heat. His uniform is sticky as he peels it off, drenched in sweat. He doesn’t see where they go, only feeling the relief as they come off his body. He looks for you unconsciously, immediately wanting to pull away from you as he finds you naked. The feeling is so primal it strikes fear in him. Another wave of unimaginable want pours over his skin like magma spilling across rock.  

He can’t count how much time he’s spent shamefully wondering what you look like naked. You exceed his expectations just like always, unbearably gorgeous. Soft edges and curves, scars and stretch marks - so unfairly enticing to his senses. He groans at the sight of you, eyes lidded in unadulterated, carnal want as you crawl over to him.  

Your hand pushes his shoulders back lightly towards the bed of grass underneath you both, until he’s flat on his back. He’s overwhelmed  when you crawl on top of him. You’re fever-sick just like he is, and Megumi is sure that you’re in just as much pain. 

But the face you make when you look like you want him is so fucking unfair.  

You’re beautiful and tricky and cunning and Megumi wants and wants and wants. Wants so fucking bad he might die, wants you so bad the heat in his body threatens to kill him without you. He needs you to touch him. Needs to feel your pretty hands slide across his body and touch whatever you want. 

 You lean forward to kiss him again much harder then before. Desperation makes kissing feel so pleasurable, so good. You feel so damn good. His mind is a blank slate, your tongue carving his wants into, rewiring his conscious to pine after you until the end. Your lips are soft - pillowy and plush against his own despite how much the kiss feels like little more but tongue and teeth. He wants to forfeit it all for the sake of this lasting a little longer, just as he has his entire life.  

Your existence a proof of his namesake - tongue and taste a blessing.  

Your body is soft and hot against Megumi’s skin but together the temperature cools comfortable. It’s sensual how slippery the sweat makes your bodies as you rub against each other. A mutual oasis, your tits squish along his abs and chest as Megumi holds you tight. Each time your nippls brush, his cock floods with precum.  

You slip your tongue into his mouth, and kiss Megumi sloppily. His cock pulses awake at the wetness, a strong wave of arousal backing him into a corner. Your pussy is barely hovering against his cock but Megumi strains. It gets pulled from him, an involuntary reaction. Cum spurts out of him, splashing up against your skin - dripping as it sticks to your pussy in hot spurts. He groans into your lips.  

“Did you cum from us kissing?” You ask, your voice completely gone. It’s you but it’s not. It matters but it doesn’t.  

He makes an affirmative noise and you giggle into his mouth, teeth bumping together as you kiss more. “Megumi-kun is cute.”  

He’s still so painfully hard. Electricity flares through everyone of his nerves as he slides just barely against your cunt. Fuck. You’re so wet. It feels so good it makes Megumi want to buck his hips and be inside of you already. Impatience makes his grip on your hips tight. His brain feels like it’s weighted with lead. He’s losing himself, losing his fucking mind like this. You taste sweet against his tongue as you sink your pussy down and grind against his length. You’re throbbing so hard Megumi can feel every pulse, the desperate spasming of your sex approaching orgasm.  

The filthiness of your arousal mixing together makes Megumi’s cock twitch against your clit hard. You moan loudly into his mouth and the sound sends him over edge, a life-time of pining make it hard to breathe as you take initiative and pleasure yourself with his body. He’s incredibly eager to allow you. Over and over, you slide your soft pussy over the length of his cock and balls - aimlessly covering it with slick, hips rutting and shivering with motion. Drools drips along the corners of your lips as you kiss him.  

He already wants to cum again, wants to take you in such a primal way it makes him dizzy. He feels whole thinking about what it might feel to cum so deeply inside of you. He’s thought about before, but the thought holds so much more weight in the state of his fever.  

But now it’s the only thing he wants. His teeth ache at the mere prospect. Of filling your pussy with his cum until it overflows and drips. Wants to see it pulse and push and spill and fuck it into you at your request. He wants to hear you praise him for it just like he always does, the desire much stronger than ever. Easier to admit in this curse induced sex.  

You’re breathless as you orgasm above him, on top of him - sliding along his cock and soaking his lower half with stickiness of your pussy. You pull away from his mouth to laugh delightfully. He’s so hard. He wants you so much he doesn’t know how to express it other than kissing you desperately - still restraining himself.  

It’s so much easier to catch his breathe now that you’ve both cum. Even painfully highstrung from the high with such a horrible temperature, something settles before it builds back up again.  

The relief is burdensome almost.  

“So we,” You’re breathless, more yourself and Megumi has never been happy yet so sad to see this glimpse of you again. “We both have to…haah.. cum. For the fever to slow...That’s something to work with.”  

Your expression is more serious as you lean forward, sweaty forehead touching his. It’s you doing it, not the curse forcing you both and that makes his body react. “Megumi-kun. Everything will be okay.”  

“I’m sorry. I didn’t,” He screws his eyes shut hard. “I didn’t want this to happen. This is..”  

He wants to say the worst possible outcome, but he doesn’t. You smile at him. “It’s okay because it’s you.”  

Even in the middle of all of this, you manage to get his hopes up in the worst possible way. He can’t do anything but laugh at that, genuine exhaustion starting to make him lose sense. Another wave is coming quickly, steadily. Taking a serious look at his face, you hold him close to you.  

“We’ll survive this. We’ve fought worse.”  

“You’re comforting me at a time like this,”  

You just smile at him. The heat spikes again, even more intensely than before and both of you stare at each other as the lust glosses over your expression. A pit forms in his stomach, the arousal spiking so high he chokes on it. You’re kissing again - no build up as you slide your tongue sloppily against his mouth and rub against his cock. It’s not enough this time, not even close. His chest is tight as he gasps the words against your mouth.  

“Inside.” He breathes the word between kisses, spit and saliva dripping down the sides of his face. “Need to be inside. Please, shit. Please.”  

“I want it inside.” You say and Megumi groans as your hands reach between your bodies - sticky from the mess. His cock twitches as soon as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft. You pump it twice as you sit up completely to get better accesses to it. The absence of your body makes him needy again.  

Pre-cum dribbles pathetically from the tip as you guide his cock to your pussy. Without any prep at all, you lean back and slam your weight down onto him with full force. It slides with no resistance - as you take him all the way down to the base with complete ease. Your body collapses into a shiver when you take him inside. You both cum at exactly the same time, your pussy sucking him in with a vice-like grip as he shoots another load into you. Inside of you so deep he’s aroused all over again. His cock is still hard as he fills you - and you ride your mutual high out before another brief moment of sobriety takes you. He’s briefly sated as you pas back down against him, littering bites along his neck.  

You smile at him when you pull back, suddenly lucid - bending down to meet his mouth in a kiss sober. He can feel himself blush as he joins you in the brief lucidity.  

“Megumi, you’re so big.” You say with breathless laughter. He almost wants to scream he loves you but buries it immediately.  

He groans. “I can’t believe you’re being like this given the situation.”  

You hum pleasantly and Megumi feels his heart tug.  The moment lingers to briefly before it’s interrupted again. It’s abrupt and makes you lean into his chest.  

“You sorcerers are boring me to tears,” The curse starts again, making you both stand to alert almost immediately. “Don’t be so shy now.”  

The Special Grade repeats the incantation of a technique.  

Cursed Technique: Hidden Desires.  

The air around Megumi changes suddenly. Instead of the lush oasis, he’s surrounded by a vague, all encompassing darkness similar to when he had been falling. He’s standing in it though he can’t see anything, not even himself. The fever has subsided despite him being inside the domain. Hidden Desires…from the speech the Special Grade went on earlier, he’s sure it’s related. He stands still, unsure of what to do before something appears in front of him.  

A sphere of cursed energy, a memory of some kind - at the brush of his fingertips. Despite his attempt to retract his hand, an outside force makes him touch it.  

Several emotions course through his entire body at one, passing through his mind steadily. He connects to your body, your cursed energy seeping into him as he touches whatevers in front of him. His skull throbs from the exposure of someone elses memories, the fever returning to his body one-thousand times hotter than normal. A life time breaches his mind but he doesn’t get to sift through any of it. 

 It comes to a sudden halt, and Megumi hears a whisper in his subconscious. He can’t make the words out properly.  

Arousal spikes into his body as what seems to be your desire manifests in his head. 

He does not know what reaction to have when memories and images of himself appear. Himself from your perspective, in perpetual motion - memories over the course of years crossed over with manifestations of your desires. All of it is him. Tied up, blindfolded, all other things. But him, always. Some visions are more tender than the rest. He can barely process the information, increasing stimulation making his brain fog once more.  

Fever spikes through him again. Confusion, embarrassment, and uncertainty make his stomach flip. He remains cautionary and assumes it’s another trick of the light.He doesn’t get to recover when he’s thrust back into the domain in the same position he was before he left. You look just as confused when he comes back.  

There’s not a moment to speak to each other, as the curse gets amplified ten-fold the minute he steps back into the domain. His entire body breaks out in a cherry red blush as arousal twists through his gut, curling up his neck. Claims his whole body all in on forceful gesture. The sensitivity is cranked so high, he can barely feel your hand your hand on his chest without his cock spilling pre-cum.  

Furious lust overwhelms him as you lean forward and meet his mouth again. It feels different somehow, the kiss. You press your tongue against his lips as Megumi’s cock twitches inside you. 

“Megumi-kun,” Your voice is shot. “Want you to fuck me. Fill me up. Be good and do it, okay? Fuck me so good,”  

The words alone are enough to break him from his state of mind. He takes one more look at you after you’ve granted him permission before flipping you over onto your back. He shudders as you wrap your legs around his waist - hands on either side of your head staring down hard, as he positions himself as deep as he can go inside of your cunt. It’s indescribable, the sensation of needing to fuck you. He’s never been one to chase his base instincts like this unless it’s life or death - but it feels so fucking good to let go. It feels like life or death to sate you with hi cum. Megumi is used to sitting on his hands and playing at indifference, but right now you let him take and take and take. Your hands cup his cheeks, your expression hazy with pleasure. He drops his head down to your shoulders and fucks you with every ounce of strength in his waist - animalistic and desperate to scratch the skin deep itch. He bites into your shoulder as you hips slam, the sound of wet-skin slapping against each other ringing in his ears - cum frothing white at the base of his cock and dripping down your ass each time. He needs to cum again, until the heat subsides.  

He barely gets a few thrusts in before his body strains in the familiar wake of an orgasm. The words to warn you come out choked as his hips slam against the backs of your thighs harder than ever- cumming inside of you again in what feels like seconds. It goes forever, balls emptying as he pumps his seed inside. You cum alongside him, at the same time - pussy throbbing hard around his shaft as he fills you with spend. It’s not enough, doesn’t give him the same relief this time. He needs more.  

“Fuck that’s so good,” You praise making him groan. “You’re so good, baby - fuck, Megumi.”  

You moan his name against his neck. Possession settles itself into his chest at the sound as you tell him to give you more, your hands on his ass to push his cock further into you. He fucks into you again - harder, faster, deeper - cumming every time. Pure adrenaline sends him careening down a cliffs edge, unspeakable fervor making it all but impossible to part from you. Scorching like the desert sun along his spine, a solar flare inside of his stomach as you cum together in constant motions.  

He can’t stop fucking you. He can’t. His body wont allow him even a minute seperated from the euphoria of your swollen cunt sucking in him like it needs his cum more than anything in the world. His brain feels like liquid matter in his skull, thrashing uselessly when he tries to will himself away from you. Delirium drives his every movements as Megumi fucks his cock into you over and over and over.  

You goad him with every thrust of hips - wrapped tight around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Praise bubbles from your mouth - champagne light against his skin but so impactful each time. His dick throbs every time you call him good, call him perfect as he fills you with his cum again and again and again.  

“My perfect fucking boy. Fuck me, that’s it.”  

It goes on like that for what feels like forever.  

He loses track by the time the heat starts to subdue again. The curse still simmers under his skin but he finds grounding after unloading a few more times. By then, he can feel how much he’s cum in you and can’t help  but blush. The hint of another wave tingles in the back of his head, and he can’t pull away from you without feeling sharp pain.  

But he does sober again eventually. He waits for you to join him, and tries not to feel sick at the intimacy of it. He’s back to his senses enough to feel utter embarrassment.  

Your voice is soft and exhausted. “Megumi-kun,” You’re so gentle to him. “What did you see?”  

He knows what you mean immediately, sensing you must’ve seen the same thing. “I think it might be another illusion of the curse.”  

“Why do you think that?”  

He can feel his blush darken all over his body. “It was uh, me. In the technique. Tied up and uhm. Anyway. I thought it might be something to provoke the other party into sex.”  

Your eyes go wide at the confession. “….Yours was me, too.”  

Oh. He blinks. You look at him again, too suddenly - peering at him through your lashes.  

“It wasn’t wrong,” You say. You seem scared, just a little. He’s never seen you like that before. “…If you saw yourself and some… kinkier stuff. It wasn’t wrong about that.”  

His throat suddenly feels so dry. 

 “What was…what did you see?” He asks.  

“It was me,” You say bashfully. “Mostly romantics and stuff. And some other stuff, but I don’t know if I should tell you, hehe.”  

He finds the action mercifully. He wonders if this whole thing is made-up when it dawns on him. Some type of fantasy. Maybe he was the only one down here from the start - and that’s why everything has felt so alarmingly right. 

Otherwise. Otherwise it would mean that you…  

“Megumi-kun,”  

He can’t breathe, but it’s for an entirely different reason. He wonders if he’ll die from his heart beating too fast.”Hm?”  

A bated breath follows a sweet smile.  

“Love you,” You mumble it against his mouth. The air is so vulnerable - more fragile than the wings of a dragonfly, more fragile than blown glass. “In that way….have for a long time. So long.”  

His reply is reflexive.  

“No you don’t,”  

You pause before bursting out into giggles. So beautiful and clever. He loves you with painful devotion. “That’s your reply to my love confession?!”  

“Shut up,” He hisses, though he can’t bring himself to make the words sound any meaner. He feels high.   

“I love you, Megumi.” You say more clearly. Your eyes shine with familiarity he’s adored for years. Even with all the fog and haze surrounding you, they’re clear and gorgeous. “More than anyone else in the world, I think.”  

He buries his face against your neck, struggling to get it out. He’s afraid to say it. Afraid if he confirms it that everything is going to collapse here. Like a dream that’s gone on too long. Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.  

He wants more than anything, for all of it to be real - even if it means he ends here.  

He won’t curse you after death, that way.  

He can’t find his voice.  

“Me too,” The weight of one thousand deaths, a thousand days of longing and loving and pining. It’s too burdensome to say. He’s afraid of what will happen to him - mind and soul, should he let himself admit what he kept so well-hidden. “I love you. You…”  

When he manages to meet your gaze, your eyes are welled up with tears. He panics. “Don’t cry. Sorry,”  

“You too. Don’t cry,”  

“I’m not—“ His vision blurs. Damn it.  

“I love you,” You say again and Megumi feels something inside of him mend. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”  

He doesn’t sense a fever this time. But he braves himself to kiss you one more time. It feels more intense than all else. He kisses you soft and slow, lets himself melt into your affectionate touch and gaze. There’s love behind it so obviously it makes him want to cry. He might really start sobbing, but he’s distracted by your mouth.  

He feels boneless, throat tight.  

“I don’t feel any fever.” You tell him when you pull away from him. He presses his forehead to yours. “I like kissing you.” 

So embarrassing. “Yeah…”  

“Let’s make love one more time.” You offer, and Megumi looks at you in disbelief. Just as always, you’re collected but ridiculous. It’s oddly comforting. Megumi wants to believe in you, so he does. “Just one more.”  

The fever is no longer there, but the sensitivity is still strong in his body. Your mouths meet in a chorus of affection. Megumi is still hard, somehow. But he can feel everything much more clearly. Can understand the taste of your lips and the feeling of your pussy pulsing - that it’s for him and he feels so elated he wonders if it will ever go away. He kisses you gingerly and lets himself slide out as your hand goes to his nape.  

“You’re so good to me, Megumi,” Your words make him ache. A whimper leaves his lips. “My beautiful boy. It must’ve been lonely, huh?”  

“Yes,” His words meet a thrust, slow but deep. A communication of needs so raw he can barely show them to you without feeling shy. “So long. Loved you for so long.” 

“Me too,” You mutter. The praise pierces his heart, suffocates him in such a euphoric feeling he can’t help but gasp at each reminder. “I love you so much, baby. And we’re gonna get out of here and be together, right?”  

He feels his head fill with nothingness. Relief like cold air brushes along his skin. Like being bathed in cool water. You’re his cure - but that’s always been true. “Yeah. Please.”  

“You can’t run away, okay?”  

“I won’t,”  

“Even though I want to monopolize you?”  

He blushes but grunts with affirmation following another slow roll of his hips. “I want to be with you. Nothing else matters. A-and I didn’t hate it… or anything.”  

You smile at him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. It’s all he can come up with - watching your eyes crinkle in the corners with nothing but delight. “Mm.” You slide a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit soft as you moan a little. “Sensitive. Gonna cum soon.” 

“Me too,”  

He’s barely holding it together as is. It takes a little more to push him over the edge one last time. This orgasm feels different. Feels rooted in reality. The mutual pleasure grounds him completely, relieving his ailment despite the remaining hints of fever. He kisses you as he cums inside of you one last time, shuddering as you cum right alongside him. He whispers the words against your lips as you let go. He loves you. 

The fever cools down. It takes a while for him to slip away from you after everything, but he manages.  

“Sorry,” He mumbles, watching the cum leak out of you in embarrassment. You just laugh, patting his cheek.  

“It’s okay, promise.” You stand to your feet as Megumi tries not to be self-conscious about the way it’s dripping down your thigh. “I can’t feel the presence of the Special Grade. It must be watching from somewhere inside the domain.”  

“Yeah,” Megumi says, trying to find his clothes.”No idea how the curse broke. Maybe since we’re already curse users?” 

You hum noncommittally. “Yeah. Let’s… clean up best we can and get outta here, yeah?”  

Megumi smiles, soft and relieved. “Yeah.”  

__  

“Are you interested in hearing the details of the curse, my dearest Megumi-chan?”  

Megumi grimaces.  

“No. Why are you even here?”  

Gojo-sensei feigns a look of offense that makes Megumi want to strangle him. He wants to go home and bathe properly already but there’s always a lot of hooplah with unregistered special grades. He’s relieved in one sense of the word, though it’s not like Gojo’s appearance made any difference since you two defeated the curse together and promptly passed out.  

He woke up clothed, and not as sticky as he was during the fight. Apparently Gojo had found you both first and once you were awake, you cleaned him. 

He sits on a tree stump in the forest nearby, his eyes flitting over to to you. You’re debriefing an archivist for Jujutsu when he catches your eye. His heart pounds, blushing at the happiness on your face. 

He feels six-eyes on him and glares at Gojo, who’s currently hiding his mouth behind his hand.  

“How long have we been out?”  

“Mm,” Sensei holds up three fingers. “About three days? I only got here on the third and found you. I was here before, several years ago - for a related case. It took some time, but we fond information of the curse in one of the houses. Are you curious?”  

He’s surprised for a minute, groaning right after. “Just tell me.”  

“Special Grade Kuroyuri uses a technique called Fever, to induce what’s essentially heat - forcing all  parties into extreme physical discomfort that can only be alleviated by sexual contact - no matter the party,” He spouts off, pretending to push his glasses up. Megumi frowns at him.  “Fever works by inducing conditions related to inner  desires and producing cursed energy that way. However, as a result, should two people experiencing Fever - be capable of sating the others desire deeply, they are able to break free from it. As the condition is vague and difficult to achieve, it’s very rarely met which is what has allowed the domain to get so strong.” 

Megumi makes wide eyes. “So you’re saying…”  

“Megumi-chan, the stairwell to adulthood and true love saved you! How wonderful!”  

Megumi blushes as Gojo giggles, glaring at him. He should kill him someday.  

Gojo-sensei pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “The painful years of pining were worth something Megumi-chan. To think your desires were so pure…” 

“Shut up! I’m going to kill you!” Megumi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Do we have any idea why the curse was created?”  

“Seems the cult worshipped cursed energy as a measure of human experience. A curse intending to induce more cursed energy as evidence of their belief. Something like that. The details are vague, but we’re still looking.”  

Megumi sighs again. “Right. Thanks,”  

He puts a hand on his shoulder  as Megumi feels the exhaustion tamp down on him. He feels better and embarrassed as you pad over to him after you’re done.  

“Megumi-kun,” You smile at him before nodding to Gojo-sensei. He smiles back.  

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,”  

Megumi shoots one last glare at Gojo before looking towards you. You sit down beside him on the ground, resting your head on his lap in a way that makes his whole body break out into a blush. He’s happy though.  

“I love you,”  

“What are you saying?”  

You look up at him. “Just want to make sure you know.”  

He looks down at you from where you lay and frowns. “How could I not?” And then, a little softer. “…It’s mutual.”  

You reach a hand towards his as you giggle to yourself. “That’s good.”  

Megumi squeezes your hand and closes his eyes. Better than good, maybe.  

__  

PROLOGUE:  

[ SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2018 | 4:45pm] 

Megumi waits a while before going into the courtyard, hoping that you’ll move and practice elsewhere if he waits long enough.  

He’s been sitting behind the wall for the last half-hour at least. No luck.  

He feels bad about avoiding you, but it’s the only course of action he thinks helps both parties.  

He doesn’t exactly like you. It’s easier to say he finds it difficult to get used to you is all. Your personality eludes him, and you remind a little too much of Sensei in how you act. Not to mention you’re already so strong. You get along well with everyone else, especially the other first years. You’re a nice girl so it’s obvious Kugisaki-san would favor you, and Itadori-kun can get along with basically everyone.  

But you and him have been at odds since your arrival to the Tokyo branch months prior. Megumi can’t figure out how to bridge the gap between you, and finds it hard to force himself to like you. He doesn’t dislike you, either though. It’s not something he can put words too.  

He feels guilty about it since you haven’t done anything to him to cause his discomfort. He just… doesn’t know what to do.  

Lost in thought, he nearly jumps out of his skin as someone stands over him where he sits, casting shadow on him from above. He opens his eyes to see you standing over him, an unreadable look on his face.  

“How long did you plan on waiting here, Fushiguro-san?”  

Megumi stares up at you before frowning, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Sorry for disturbing you.” 

You’re hard for him to read, though you’re smiling. You seem amused as you step back, allowing Megumi to stand up at full-height and glance at you.  

“I don’t mind. I know you don’t want to train with me, but it’d be kind of pointless to try and find somewhere else so it’s better to just bear with it a bit.”  

He stares at you. You smile knowingly.  

“You’re surprised I know you were avoiding me?” 

He nods.  

“No offense Fushiguro-san, but it’s hard not to notice something like that when our grade is four people,” You’re a little smug but it’s not mal-intended, though it kinda pisses him off. “No hard feelings.”  

You say that then sit next to him behind the wall. He stares at you feeling more uncomfortable - but can’t will himself to get up.  

“What are you doing?”  

You smile again. 

“Messing with you,”  

He stares at you. You stare back until you break out into laugher.  

“Pfft, I’m sorry. I really am. You make it so obvious on your face when I make you mad..hah.”  

“It’s that part of you I really don’t like.”  

“Mm, yeah - thought so.” Your reply is nonplussed but not unkind. “You’re the moody, serious type. Sensitive.”  

Megumi watches you shuffle through your deck of cards - the ones you’d been practicing with for the last few hours. You peruse through the thick boards of your Hanafuda deck, silently stacking them into different matching suits and using them with your cursed energy. Megumi watches on as you manifest different thing. He wants to ask you about it but can’t find the wil. You’re so strong, despite how you act. The strongest of the first years even outclassing him.  

“It’s fine if you find me hard to be around, but don’t avoid me so blatantly.” You reason coolly. “It’s best we get along.”  

“…Do you want me to get along with you?”  

You laugh at that but he isn’t sure why. It’s nice.. the sound of your laugh when it’s sincere. This is the first time he’s ever properly talked to you, he realizes.  

“Of course! I like getting along with everyone, even someone as brooding as you.”  

“Why.”  

“It’s good for my public image.” You say seriously. He deadpans as you perk up and laugh again. “Kidding, I’m kidding!”  

“I’m going to leave.” He threatens flatly.  

“Fine, fine. Do you want to know the real reason?”  

“I don’t really care,” He responds. You smile at that.  

“I’m more than happy to tell you,” You say, completely ignoring him. “Despite your various character flaws, I think Fushiguro-san is kind of innocent.”  

“Huh?”  

You smile warmly. “Your philosophy to only save people you think are good I thought was cute. It’s a very simple way to think about jujutsu. I like that part of you, I guess? You were raised with a lot of love, I think. Since it’s a difficult way to live.”  

Megumi thinks of his life - thinks of Tsumiki and his sensei with some begrudging. He doesn’t know what else to ask you. He’s a little uncomfortable that you seem to know him so well with the little information you have.  

“Why are you a sorcerer then?”  

Megumi watches you stack your cards into a card house and collapse them, humming to yourself. You seem deep in thought for a while. The sunlight moves away from the clouds briefly, a beam of line brushing against your skin. Your lashes cast shadow on your cheeks. He’s never seen you so clearly.  

You answer with utmost clarity and confidence - all shiny grin. “Ah, well why not, you know? Since I’m super talented.”  

He stares at you, dumbfounded before the corners of his lips twitch. Somehow he understands you a little better than before, and he thinks that might’ve been what you wanted.  

“You’re an idiot.”  

Your grin goes even wider.  

“Let’s be good friends, Fushiguro-san. Okay?” 

“Sure,” He relaxes his back against the wall and shuts his eyes with a small laugh. “Why not.”  

[chilisworld55]

Your fics are sooooo good!!! The spanish is just the best part!! As a fic idea👀👀 spending summer with Carlos at mallorca!!

Sunburnt dinners, him loosing his mind over how cute you look a little sunburnt with your bikinis and summer dresses

hello anon! thank you so much, i really appreciate it 🫶🏻 I didn’t know if you wanted it to me a smut of just fluff but here you go!

🌶️ warnings: none. just Carlos simping over his fiancé, complimenting her so much

a/n: hihi! i hope you liked this and im sorry if there is any mistake, i’ll try to improve. Feel free to leave feedbacks, requests or anything else!

It was summer time. Your fiancé, Carlos, surprised you with tickets for both of you to spend a week at Mallorca, a beautiful island in Spain, perfect place to visit in summer.

Carlos is a morning person and wanted to make the most of the few vacation days he had with you. Some days he wakes up early and likes to take you to have breakfast near the beach, other days he likes to cook breakfast himself before taking you for a walk over touristic places, showing new things about his beautiful country.

Then, he made sure not to forget about taking his girl to the beach as well, spending your afternoons there, drinking a couple of cocktails, relaxing under the sun, watching the sunset which is a gorgeous view but for Carlos, you are always his best view.

You’ve noticed that by the way he always has his eyes on you and how he simply cannot keep his hands for himself, always grabbing you, touching you in any way. oh he loves your little outfits for the summer and the sunburns adds the perfect spark to it. You are driving him crazier as the days pass by.

…

It was the last day you were staying in Mallorca, tomorrow morning you were taking a flight back home with Carlos. The plan for today was having a romantic dinner at a restaurant but you wanted to have a little walk around the island to watch the sunset before that.

You were standing in front of the big mirror at the hotels room, getting ready, doing your makeup and wearing those summer dresses that you loved for how comfy and cute they were. Your fiancé was all dressed up already in some casual clothes, nothing too fancy.

You noticed Carlos stare on you all the time, as you got out from the shower, as you were choosing your clothes, putting them on and now.

“You’ve been staring at me the whole time. Tienes algo que decir?” Do you have something to say? You said, looking at the man sitting over the edge of the bed over the mirror, just right behind you.

“Solo una cosa… y es que te ves tan jodidamente hermosa” just one thing… that you look so freaking stunning. He said, eyes not looking away from your body, obviously checking you out.

“Oh really? thank you, amor, but if you keep staring at me for too long, i might melt” you giggled, turning around now that you’re done with your makeup. “ready now!”

“Wait, come over here. Date una vueltecita” do a little spin for me. He signaled with his fingers and you laughed, doing as he asked before walking over to him.

Once he had you close enough, his hands found their way to your bare waist, pulling you even closer to his body. Your dress had slits there and your back was completely exposed so you could feel his warmth against your skin.

“I think this is my favorite outfit on you so far… i mean you always look so pretty and beautiful but oh my god. i love it” he checked you out for the probably fifth time in the night, fingertips gently caressing your skin. “te ves tan mona, como una princesa, mi princesa” you look so cute, like a princess, my princess.

“yeah? then i should wear it more often so I can be your princess more often” you smiled, hands on his shoulders as he stood up. Carlos leaned down a little to place soft kisses on your lips and cheeks, his beard ticking you a little.

“Doesn’t the ring on your finger means that you’re my princess already? or even better, you’re my queen. Always.” he whispered, leaving a last kiss with a “muaw” sound. “Eres toda mía, cariño” you’re all mine, love.

“And you’re gonna steal all the cameras! The paparazzi are going to be taking photos of this beautiful woman instead of me” he faked a pout, being dramatic as always.

You playfully hit his shoulder. “Hey! you know that’s not true” you giggled at his pout and couldn’t help but kiss those puffy lips that always drive you crazy.

“Con ese vestido de seguro que si” with that dress, i’m pretty sure. He walked closer to the mirror, gently turned around so you’re looking at yourself in it. “Es que mírate” Look at you.

“Nunca me voy a cansar de decirte que me traes loco” im never gonna get tired of telling you that you drive me crazy.

…

And then you were late for dinner, but still got to have your romantic date. Carlos continued on complimenting every single thing about you, specially about how good you looked, but as much as he loved your outfit, as soon as you came back to the hotel room, the dress didn’t stayed on for much longer :)

[thebiggerbear]

Giving In

Summary: You've finally given in to what you've wanted all this time but will it be enough?

Pairing: ? (whoever you want it to be) x Female!Reader

A/N: This is a new format I was experimenting with while also practicing...well...smut. To a low degree. I've come across fics in the past for all different fandoms, on here and AO3, that have featured this "whichever character you want it to be" format. So this could be Dean, Russell, Beau, Soldier Boy, Jensen, whoever you want. I'm going to tag the ones I just mentioned just to give it somewhere to go but it was purposely kept vague to be whoever the reader wants it to be.

All unbeta'd.

Thank you @rieleatiel for pre-reading! I was so nervous lol. Once again, your input is invaluable and your time spent appreciated. 💖

Warnings: smut-ish (18+ - minors DNI); language

Word Count: 978

dividers by @cafekitsune

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he moved in and out of you.

You felt his breath near your earlobe. “There it is. Let me hear some more of that, sweetheart.” He purposely moaned into your ear as an example.

You dug your nails into his back at the sound, matching the indentations that now resided in your bottom lip from your teeth. Fuck, that was hot. No wonder he wanted to hear similar sounds coming from you. “We shouldn’t—” You loudly gasped when suddenly without warning, he hiked your leg higher on his side, causing him to go just that little bit deeper. “Be doing this.”

“Yes, we should,” he whispered, feeling him trailing kisses down your jawline until he reached your lips. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he grunted into your mouth, squeezing your hand in his almost as if to echo his sentiment.

You let him kiss you passionately, make love to you, but the guilt weighed heavily in your chest. You meant what you had said before — neither of you should be doing this. Yet as his hips moved steadily against yours, as he broke away to lift his head up and lock eyes with you, panting harshly, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you had wanted this for some time as well. It was a truth you kept hidden deep down inside that you refused to acknowledge. Even when you’d taken a picture together last week with your friends and his hand had stayed glued to the small of your back until the last possible second. When his gaze lingered on you longer than it should in polite company. When the discreet tender touches began, the inconspicuous feathery brush of his lips on your earlobe happened repeatedly when your head was a little too close to his, and when his hugs lasted a little too long. Each time any of those things occurred, you knew that you were heading in a direction that would only lead to trouble, getting closer and closer until one of you couldn’t take it anymore. Like a rumbling storm cloud that was close to breaking, the electricity in the air around you two became more and more charged until eventually lightning would strike and the downpour would be sudden and both of you would be drowning in it. You should have put a stop to it, to any of it, but you hadn’t. Because deep down in that secret place, you hadn’t wanted to. 

And now here you were, underneath the man who had as tight of a grip on your heart as he did your body — tighter even. He was staring down at you with a mix of desire and something akin to reverence; you stared back at him, the same feelings coursing through you alongside pleasure and — well, love. You loved these eyes now, the ones that watched your expressions closely as he moved within you. You loved these lips, the ones that parted to let out a deep groan when you reflexively clenched down on him to slow him down. You loved the deep voice that followed, telling you, “Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing the shit out of me” as lust brightened the sheen in his eyes. You loved the warm yet prickly skin you felt underneath your hand when you placed it against his cheek, causing his eyes to shut halfway before he turned and pressed his lips to your palm.

You loved this man. You’d loved him when he insisted on playing you song after song from the playlist on his phone. You’d loved him the first time he’d laughed at something you said, appreciating your steady stream of snarky commentary from movies to news to every possible topic in life you two could find to discuss. You’d loved him when you turned to say something to him about the tv series you were binging together one day to find him already watching you with an affectionate smile and a soft, faraway look in his eyes. You’d loved him when he fell asleep on your couch one night after several drinks between the two of you, his head in your lap and his lips resting against your hand that he had brought to his mouth and placed soft kisses on before drifting off. You’d loved him when you saw an act of kindness from him to a stranger that wasn’t meant to be witnessed by you or anyone else nor was he aware that it was. You loved him beyond words with every smile; every conversation; every laugh; every exchange between you without words; every look; every phone call and facetime; every touch; every text message he sent; every embrace; every thought he had and shared with you; every time he spoke your name with that adoration attached to it — all of it. You loved him.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, straight from the heart.

He turned a dopey smile down on you, kissing the tips of your fingers reverently. He didn’t say it back; he never said it back. And you knew why. It was the very same reason you two should not be tangled up in each other like you were. 

But you knew that he loved you, too, even if he couldn’t say the words. The way he leaned down to kiss you; the way he moved your hand back over your head and slipped his fingers into yours; the way he continued moving both of your bodies anew; the way his mouth lingered near your ear and breathily encouraged your quiet moans with “That’s it, baby, let me hear all of it”; the way he held you to him as you shuddered in orgasm and pressed his lips to your temple — you knew he loved you. And that would have to be enough.

For now. 

[edgeray]

mygod that siren Arlecchino fic you did is *chef's kiss* IMMACULATE!!! might i request a continuation, mayhaps? Arle mentioned that she'd follow the reader as they sail, so maybe she misses them and either tries to climb onto the boat or the pier where they're docked to see them again? either hurt/comfort or fluff, the rest is up to you!!! love your work and thank you for fueling my Arlecchino obsession :] also i might pop back in here once in a while, may i be moth anon?

The Sea's Calling Pt. 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Part 1 link here. Yes, you definitely can be a moth anon! Hi :D. I already added you to the anon list. To other anons that have requested and I haven't gotten to, I do see your requests and if you gave yourself an emoji/name I already added you ^^. Anyways, back to moth anon. <333 I'm so glad you enjoyed my siren Arlecchino fic! As my first request I was kind of nervous about it but I'm glad that you enjoy! I'm also really glad that you sent this request! I did always want to write a part 2 but didn't have the opportunity until now. Thanks moth anon, for the reuqest and for enjoying my works!!  If you couldn't tell, I love the idea of found family pirates. One Piece did this to me. The ending turned out to be self-indulgent, forgive me moth anon ;) Even though it's short, this ended up being one of my favorites. Hope you like this one! Content warnings / info - monster x human, arle is ooc bc she's a siren, fem! reader bc pt.1 has fem! reader, suggestive at the end, 1.2k words

You used to think that the most beautiful thing out there was the sky and its stars–to you, nothing was more mesmerizing than them. They are so alluring despite holding this mystique, and they've guided humans on their naval journeys and inspired all kinds of stories of their origins. The stars were all that kept you company, even on the lonliest and coldest nights.

Now, however, the stars aren't your only company. 

“Guys, I'm going to go back to the ship. Don't wait up on me too much,” you to your fellow pirates as you stand up from the stool. You drop off some extra coins on the baa counter, in order to compensate for the plate that you will be ‘borrowing.’ You pick up the plate of your half-eaten slice of meat pie and sandwich and head towards the exit before one of your crew mates stops you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Turning in already? C'mon, stay a little bit. We've got enough money for a few more rounds of beer,” he says with a boisterous laugh. You chuckle lightly but shake your head. 

“No can do, sorry. Got something to do.”

“Uh huh, like your little siren girlfriend?” Another crew member states, her teasing smile widening as you flush. 

“One more? Jackie hasn't finished his story!”

“Let the darned woman go see her darn girlfriend, Goldie,” another gruffed with a shake of his head. 

“Fine, fine, go on ahead. Tch, when will I get my own smoking hot siren girl?” Goldie huffs, and you snort. Likely never, but you don't tell him that.  

“Thanks, I'll be back,” is all you say before rushing out of the door, nearly tipping over the plate before you balance it again. You wave them off and you make your way back to the docks. The walk is both short and long, and each step you take is filled with the excitement that buzzes through you. 

Even after these months, being able to spend time with her feels like bliss, like you have just found treasure. Sometimes, you forget she's a siren, she's ever so endearing and follows you around like a puppy. Oftentimes, when you're on the boat, you talk to her as she lingers by. The night after you first met the siren your crew had banned you from jumping into the waters because you had developed a cold which infected a good chunk of the crew; the cold wasn't severe for anyone but still. Since you can't be in the water, you often just talk to her from the railings and she answers. 

It's only when you're docked when you can finally touch her, but those times come rare. It can take days, sometimes weeks to reach an island to dock at, but when you do, you always take the time to sit by the shore. 

Finally, you arrive at the pier. “Arle?” You call out, and you see a ripple in the water. Grinning, you walk to the ends of one of the docks, setting down the plate a bit away from you. You remove your shoes and set them far away. Perching on the dock, your feet dip into the cold waters and you shiver.

You see something gleam in the corner of your eyes, the familiar shine of her scales. You then remember the food, and you start. “Wait, Arle don't splash–”

Too late. Something erupts from the waters and launches into you, a cold, heavy weight thrusting into your body making you tumble on your back on the dock. Pressed between the wooden planks and the creature that straddles you, you can't help but laugh and raise your hand up to her face, the now drenched food forgotten entirely. 

“Hey gorgeous,” you say as you stroke her cheek gently. She's the most beautiful treasure that you found among the seas. Arlecchino gazes down on you, her red pupils glistering as her arms wrap around your torso. She purrs, little fangs apparent as the tip of her tongue peeks out with her open-mouth smile. 

“Missed you,” is the first thing she says, before she leans her body against you, nuzzling her face into your neck. Your clothes get soaked from her, but you pay no mind. You stroke her wet hair, carding your fingers through her strands before kissing the top of her head. 

“I missed you too. Did you eat recently?” 

Sometimes she'd disappear for a few nights to search for another wandering ship for her meals but she never fails to find your ship again. You haven't seen her for a couple days before you docked her. 

Arlecchino nods. “Human food?” She questions. Her tail flicks, thumping against the wood out of eagerness. Although she enjoys the taste of cooked meats, beef especially, you don't believe it's as nutrition dense as… well, the main source of her diet, and it's hard to serve her cooked meat while on sea due to the issue of storing meat on ships. So, cooked meat has always been a treat for her. 

You nod. “You want to try?” 

She lets out an affirmative purr, and you help her sit upright in your lap. It's always a bit difficult considering she has a tail instead of legs, but she maneuvers her tail to encircle your waist, and you support her back with one of your arms. You silently mourn for your now soggy sandwich as you reach for the plate, using her tail as a flat surface. 

“What is it?” 

“Meat pie and a sandwich.” You take the fork and dig out the meat from the meat pie. Balancing the tender piece of beef on your utensil, you carefully guide it to her mouth. 

“Careful, it's hot. And don't bite the fork this time,” you gently warn her as she eats it. She squirms a bit in your lap, an indicator that she's pleased with the taste. 

“More?” You chuckle, adoring the cute plea in her eyes. 

You scrape out more of the meat until she's eaten all of the pie filling, leaving you to eat the pie crust. You're still peckish, so you start eating your sandwich, but not before fishing out the thick slice of ham from it, and giving it to her. If it meant you could watch the way her expression lights up again forever, then you would endlessly eat ham-less sandwiches and savor every cheese and vegetables sandwiched in between wet bread. 

“Did you like it?” You ask in between chews as she leans her head against your shoulder. She nods, and leans up again to place featherlight kisses on your neck. With the cold droplets of water and her frigid lips, it tickles you and you giggle. So adorable. 

You freeze up when you feel her fangs prick your skin and she looks up to you for permission. Another mating bite? You nod, wordlessly giving her permission, and you suck in a harsh breath as you feel her teeth sink in. Purrs vibrate coarse through her mouth as she pulls away, lapping at the mark and the texture of her tongue invokes a throaty groan from you, your body trembling with pleasure. 

Arlecchino leans away, but in her eyes, hunger burns in them. Her hands take purchase on your hips and she pushes your back against the planks. Her tail unwinds around your torso and instead coils around your ankles, securing them together.  

“H-here?” You question, flushing. Her hands wander lower, the sharp nails trailing lower to your thighs, where faint scratches scatter. 

The night that you first met her, she sang so beautifully for you. Tonight, you repay her back, singing out her name so tastefully. 

[danikamariewrites]

Can you write one where reader shows as how much she loves him because our boy is insecure and she just wants him to see himself the way that we see him because I love this male

Maybe him about his insecurities and his hands and maybe make it a little bit smuty but make mostly happy and comfort

I Love You Most

Azriel x reader

Notes: two fics in one day, I haven’t done that in a while i feel. Maybe I did and can’t remember. Life’s been weird for a bit. Do you guys like that I post so much? I’m genuinely asking because I’m afraid that I do too much, so let me know what you think.

Warnings: None

Azriel has been afraid to lose the love of his life

Whether it would be by force or you falling out of love with him (an irrational fear which he knows is insane)

Azriel gives you all his love everyday. He does everything to take care of you and make sure you’re happy everyday and you do the same in return

Thanks to his job (and brothers) Azriel gets very stressed, especially when he can’t get the answers Rhys needs

It’s makes him feel like he’s filing his brother and his court

When he comes home stressed you always make sure to be there for him

As much as he loves to hear you yap at him (it’s very comforting for him, it reminds him that life isn’t full of darkness) but you know how much Az likes peace and quiet

You make sure the lights are dim and let him lay on your chest, massaging his scalp and temples

Az loves feeling your fingers in his hair. His headaches just melt away at your loving touch

You are an expert at knowing his tells for when he’s annoyed or needs a break

You always do your best to comfort him when he gets stressed or uncomfortable by rubbing his back or just sitting with him holding his hand

Az always leans into you giving you a small kiss and conveying his love and thanks through the bond

You also know when he needs his space

You’re not hurt by this, you need your space too, everyone does

And when Az is done being alone he knows to find you and that you’ll embrace him when he needs you

When he does find you you give him the biggest smile and immediately include him in whatever you’re doing

His hands are a huge insecurity. Az is always putting them behind his back or wearing gloves

Around you he’s never insecure about his hands

You love holding his hands and don’t care that he has scars

You were surprised to find out that Az is big on touch

You always jump into his arms when he comes home

Kiss all over his face

Big hugs, you make sure you squeeze him as hard as you can which never affects him since Az is much stronger than you

“I love you Az” “I missed you baby” “you’re the best mate ever, the Mother couldn’t have blessed me with a better partner” those are just some of the things you tell Az everyday

Every time you tell him you love him Az gets all blushy and shy

You always hold his face when he blushes, “Aww Azzy, don’t be shy. I love you and you deserve it.” You coo and pull him close enough to press a kiss to his nose

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline that's turning into a fic Part 4 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you... Warnings: nsfw, mention of wartime trauma <----Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

-When you get back to your room, you don’t really speak, just help each other out of your sopping wet clothes. It is late, and you are both tired, and still a little drunk–but it doesn’t stop you from kissing. You just can’t seem to help yourselves, the magic of the night has not faded, and his arms are around you, and your bare skin is pressed to his. You’ve never felt anything more wonderful.

You burrow under the covers against the night chill, still kissing. The velvety pressure of his manhood against your belly is maddening, and when he reaches down you spread your legs for him, so eager for his touch, for his strong hands on you. He strums at your slit, moaning into your mouth as he feels how wet you are for him. He touches you with those thick fingertips, finding a rhythm you like upon your sensitive bud, your tongues at war. 

“Paul,” you pant, forcing yourself to be quiet, afraid you might wake the household with your passion.

“So beautiful,” he says against your cheek. “I don’t want to trap you, y/n. I understand, if you don’t want a baby. But…let me give this to you.” He ducks to kiss your breasts, flicking your nipple with his tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it–your pleasure surprises you, ripping through you like a string of firecrackers, your spine arching off the bed, your cries muffled by his mouth on yours again. As you come back to the world he smiles down at you with boyish delight, so sweet. Always so sweet, this man. As if you weren’t falling hard enough already. 

No one has ever touched you like that. With such care and focus for your own enjoyment. Not Juan. Not the handful of beaus who took you out and fumbled with you in the front seat of their cars or on dark park benches after a date. 

“Your turn,” you say languidly, your head still in the clouds, your heart full of some warm and damning emotion, crawling on top of him under the sheet. For some reason he seems surprised by this, as though he didn’t expect any reciprocation, your pleasure was enough for him. Is he even real?

“You don’t…have to…” he sighs as you kiss down his torso, his gentle fingers sliding into your hair. 

“What if I want to?” you ask, certain he’ll think you’re such a floozy in the morning, but right now, you don’t care. 

Again, he gives that shaky, self-deprecating laugh, as you brush his sensitive tip with your chin. “I couldn’t say no…God, I want you…” He moans as you take him into your mouth, tongue swirling the sensitive ridge of his head. Bless this man, but he’s so pent up it doesn’t take long at all, from you bobbing on his impressive length, before he is spilling into your mouth with a pained groan. You’ve never done it before, but you swallow him down without thinking, as though you are greedy for any trace of his essence inside you. 

“Sweetheart…” You collapse against his shoulder, and he wraps you up in those strong arms. He is asleep in moments, his head pressed against yours, but you lay there thinking a little longer. You think about how wonderful that was, and yet. Your body still aches to feel him inside you. That is the cosmic joke, you suppose. The thing that fulfills you most as a woman, will also prove your demise. 

And you start to think, with greater charity towards your parents, that maybe this is why you have 9 siblings. Not because your father was careless and callous about your mother. Because…they were in love, and they just couldn’t live without this, no matter the consequences.

You are quiet about it, but you cry in the divot of Paul’s shoulder, that feels as though it was formed in the clay, just for you.  

---------

-The soft light of morning streaming through the windows, you are woken by a lovely soft baritone singing in Spanish very badly. 

“Amor...si me llamas amor…”

Hungover, you groan, pulling the sheet over your head. Paul just chuckles behind you, burrowing into your hair, the long warm line of his body spooning yours. 

“Sii me dejas amarte, mi bien...yo te voy a adorar.”

If you let me love you, I will adore you. 

You believe he would, too. It equally annoys you and fills you with that sneaky, creeping warmth again. 

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” you groan, snuggling back into him nonetheless, as though your body cannot help itself. 

“Don Pedro said it was a sure thing,” he chuckles, clearly fond of the old man. “He’s been married fifty years, he must know what he’s talking about.” 

“We’re Catholics, Paul, we don’t do divorce. We stick to our mistakes until they kill us.”

His big hand caressing the curve of your hip freezes. “It looks like he and doña Catalina are still in love to me.”

“Or fondly resigned. Hard to tell.”

“What made you so cynical?”

Because love killed my mother, and I don’t want to end up like her.

“I just…have a brain, Paul. I see what goes on in front of me. I prefer not to tell pretty lies about it. Lies that are convenient mostly just for men.”

He actually laughs behind you, a disbelieving huff. He’s not angry, you can tell. Maybe just…flabbergasted.

“I’ve never met a woman who thinks like you.”

“There are plenty of women who think like me. We just…don’t get a voice.”

“Is that what you plan to write your books about?”

“Maybe.”

“You write a lot. I see you scribbling in your notebook all the time.”

“It’s…just how I try to make sense of life.”

“Meanwhile, the rest of us dummies are just stuck living it, huh?”

Here it is. You knew you’d offend him, eventually. “I don’t think you’re dumb,” you growl, trying to vacate the bed. But he pulls you back, with one of those strong arms around your waist.

“Hey, wait. Don’t be mad.”

You hang your head, hiding in the bed clothes. “Paul…I am always mad.”

“Hmm.” He kisses your shoulder. “You didn’t seem mad, last night?”

How does he do that? Diffuse the bomb of your temper with a kiss and a few words?

“Well…you seem to have that effect on me.” He grins, so open and sweet, it hurts your heart.

“I think that makes us a good match, y/n. Like maybe we could balance each other out.”

“Hmm.” Your brain races at a million miles per minute, but you don’t have the courage to say any of it out loud. Paul seems to sense it too, brushing your nose with his. 

“What are you thinking?”

You just shake your head.

“Ok. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking,” he says with a smile.

“Oh no.”

“What? You’re the only one who gets to have big ideas, smarty pants?” You can tell he’s teasing, and something relaxes inside you.

“How long have you been awake?” you grouse.

“Aww. Someone’s not a morning person.”

“Not after consuming my body weight in pinot noir, no.”

“Poor baby.” He sits up, pulling you to rest on his broad chest. It’s a very nice place to lay your head, if you’re being honest. “I like your idea, about the room with a view.”

Oh no.

“What if…we get ourselves a place? I’ll get a job, and while I’m gone in the day you can write your heart out. Maybe when I get home…you could muster a little time for me?”

And have dinner on the table, no doubt. According to a schedule, which you would get no say in. A schedule that would include getting to see his handsome face, his smile all for you, every day, and falling asleep in his arms, like this… 

Ay.

“That doesn’t sound very fair to you?” you attempt to deflect. 

“It sounds like heaven, to me.”

Your heart feels like it might explode.

“And…when we save a little money, we can travel? Though Europe’s kind of a mess right now, and I think I’ve had my fill of Asia for a little while–”

You press your lips to his, interrupting him mid thought. “Paul, you are unbelievably sweet.”

“Yeah?”

“In this little idea of yours…are we married?”

“Well…of course.”

Of course you are. No self respecting landlord would even rent to you, otherwise.

“You just got out of a marriage. Why are you so keen to jump back into one?”

“I barely knew her. I married her the day before I shipped out. I thought…I thought I was going to die,” he admits, his fingers digging into your skin with the thought for a telling moment. “I’m still surprised that I didn’t.”

“I’m so grateful, that you didn’t.” The world is a better place with Paul Sutton in it. 

He looks down at you with a hairline frown, thoughts of the war, and maybe things not going as he hoped, when he offered you exactly what you said you wanted, bringing this indomitable man low. “Well. That’s something, I guess.” 

“Paul…you can take some time, you know. To figure out who you are. You can go to school even, on the GI bill. That is huge. You earned it, you deserve it. You bled for it. Take it.”

He nods, thinking about it, but still so sad. 

“Do you see, how I make you sad?” you say to him gently. “When I tell you what I’m really thinking?”

“That’s ok, y/n.” 

“It’s not. It wouldn’t be, if we were married. Together all the time. Bound, forever. This is how it would be.”

He cants his head, looking at you. You feel like you can’t hide a thing, when he gives you that look. 

“I care about you, y/n. You’re precious to me, and I just…want to honor that.”

“I am honored,” you tell him. “Just hearing you say it…makes me feel like the richest woman in the world.”

He nods, and then smiles, like the sun burst from behind the clouds. How can he do that? When you are in a mood, its like impenetrable fog hangs over you for hours. 

“I know you think I would have fallen for any pretty woman who smiled at me on the bus,” he says thoughtfully. “But I think…God or fate or whatever has brought us together, y/n. And I want to find out where it could go. We don’t have to get married to do that, if you don’t want to. But please…don’t push me away because you think I’m fragile? I’m not.”

Suddenly it’s as though you can’t breathe. You nod, unable to find the right words in your mouth, moved to your toes. “I would like that,” you finally admit. You never thought Paul was dumb, per se, but you are beginning to see that he is a lot more intuitive than you thought.

TBC...

[alexprime]

Let's talk about Spock's Body Temperature! A great many fanfics have him as being warmer than the human average, even hot to the touch. Fanfics can write Spock however they wish to (and I adore reading all the different interpretations!) However, according to TOS, Spock runs quite a bit cooler than humans do! Alright, so Spock ends up in Sickbay a fair amount during TOS, and every single time you see the Body Function Panel behind him, it seems to show a different reading. Confusing, annoying, frustrating, especially as we all know that TOS canon can be... fluid. One potential explanation for the fluctuating readings is the very reason he's in sickbay to begin with: he's sick or injured. Pretty much every time he's in a sickbay bed, he's either hurt, ill, or recovering from being hurt or ill. ... Except for ONE time, during his physical in the episode 'The Naked Time'. I've made a handy little graphic for this below:

Spock claims the readings on the panel in 'The Naked Time' are, "Perfectly normal for me, Doctor, thank you." Which would mean that his shown temperature should be accurate as well. Therefore, Spock's body temperature is approximately 92 Degrees Fahrenheit / 33 Degrees Celsius. This means that Spock actually runs quite a bit cooler than the average human temperature. As a fic reader, I adore reading different portrayals of Spock, and reading descriptions of him running hot can be lovely! However, as a fic writer myself, one thing I've really come to love is the contrast between Spock's personality to his temperature! I'll let the following quote from my fic, K'oh-nar, explain the reason why the contrast is fun to play with:

[Excerpt from Chapter 11:] Spock’s hand in his own was slack, but it was comfortable to hold now. He recalled how cold the Vulcan had been; how cradling those hands in his own felt like cupping ice. The fingers had been purple from the temperature, and he’d had the worst fear that moving them too suddenly would snap them off like icicles. They were back to normal in his grip; he examined the differences between them idly, marveling at the contrast of Spock’s olive skin against his own tan. The skin was cool—cooler than human body temperature—but that was normal for Spock.

Some part of him had always found that odd. He was used to it by now, but he remembered it had been startling to find out that Spock ran colder than humans did. It just… didn’t seem fitting. Everything about Spock always felt so warm to him; gentle, calming, kind. It was present in the soft brown of his eyes and the private not-smile he wore when being teased. There was nothing—not a single thing—about Spock that had ever seemed cold to him. Other Vulcans, sure; he hardly associated warmth or tenderness with the likes of the woman T’Pring, or her beau, what’s-his-name. The one with the stinkface. Stan? Stonk?

He'd described him as such to Spock once, using those and other colorfully insulting names. In turn, he had been delightfully and memorably treated to the subtle, nearly unnoticeable spasm of Spock choking on his tea.

[asrmrxx]

Missing you.

sypnosis: Miyeon is a really business woman, a CEO to be correct, and you as her house wife missed her even more as the days passed. You decide to tell her, and so, she gives you all of her for the rest of the night.

pairing: CEO!Miyeon x HouseWife!fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: sexual intercourse(fingering, kissing breasts, sexual tension)

wc: 1.1k

A/n: this is a short one, the anon who requested this I hope you wont be mad if I changed some things a little but still tried to keep your request, I also apologize for posting this very late for such a short fic. I hope you'll still enjoy reading^^

It was a hot but fresh night. It was again one of those nights you spent alone, without her, your beloved Miyeon. She was a business woman and that’s what you liked about her, but again she almost never had time to spend with you. As Miyeon walked into your shared apartment, the weight of the day’s work was heavy on her shoulders. As the CEO of a really monopolistic company in Korea, her days were filled with meetings, deadlines, and endless responsibilities. The one thing that kept her going was the thought of coming home to her beloved wife, you, who was always there, waiting for her with a warm smile and open arms. Except, tonight something felt different. As she stepped into the dining room, she noticed that you were unusually quiet, barely facing her presence. The air was thick with unspoken words, emotions and million questions running through Miyeon’s mind.

“Hey, darling,” Miyeon greeted softly, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you replied while exhaling, not meeting Miyeon’s eyes.

Miyeon frowned, sensing your tired tension. She took her seat at the table, trying to start a small talk, but your responses were short and straightforward. The usually warm and cheerful atmosphere felt cold and distant.

“Is everything okay?” Miyeon finally asked, her concern growing.

Again, you sighed, pushing your plate away and finally looking at Miyeon’s worried and concerned eyes. “No, Miyeon, everything is not okay. You’ve been so busy with work that you barely notice me anymore. I miss you. I miss us.”

Miyeon’s heart sank at your words. She had been so consumed by her work that she hadn’t realized how much she was neglecting you. She reached out, taking your hand in hers, her thumb gently stroking over your knuckles.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Miyeon said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.” 

The same concerned look now turned into a seduceful gaze, ready to charge at you.“Come here.”

She pulled you into her lap, wrapping your arms around her. Melting into the embrace, burying your face in Miyeon’s neck. For a moment, you two simply held each other, the silence speaking for you.

“I understand that your job is important,” you murmured, her voice muffled. “But I need you too. I need time with you, we’re wifes after all.”

Miyeon’s heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She realized how much she had taken you for granted, how her work had overshadowed the love and attention you really deserved.

“I’ll make it right,” Miyeon promised, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll do better. I’ll be here for you, I swear.”

You looked up at your wife, your eyes getting filled with fresh tears. the tears you let go almost every night you spent alone without your dear Miyeon, and now she was finally there for you. Miyeon’s heart clenched, and she cupped your face, gently brushing away the tears with her thumbs. Your lips met in a tender, desperate kiss, it all felt like a new eternity. 

Miyeon’s hands roamed over your body, feeling your body melt into her touch. You responded eagerly, your fingers tangling in Miyeon’s hair as your kiss deepened, filled with need and longing.

Miyeon lifted you up, carrying you to your shared bedroom. She laid you down gently on the bed, climbing on top of you. Your eyes were filled with desire, your breath coming in soft pants.

“I’ve missed this,” Miyeon whispered, her lips trailing down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

The reader moaned softly, arching into her touch. “Show me, Miyeon. Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

With a growl of desire, Miyeon’s hands moved to undress you, both of your clothes quickly fell to the gray rug next to your bed. She took her time, worshiping your body with kisses and caresses, making up for the lost time that you spent alone without her.

With such small touches, your moans filled the room as Miyeon’s lips found your breasts, her tongue swirling around a hardened nipple before taking it into her mouth. Her hand moved between your thighs, finding your clit wet and ready.

“Please, Miyeon,” you gasped, your hips being more impatient than you. “I need you.”

Miyeon didn’t make you wait. She slid two fingers inside you, as her thumb found your clit. In such sudden pleasure, you cried out, your back arching off the bed with every Miyeon’s move. Her lips captured yours in a searing kiss as she set a continuing rhythm, her fingers moving in and out, her thumb circling your clit. Your moans only grew louder, your body trembling with pleasure. Miyeon’s name fell from your lips like a prayer, and she felt a surge of proudness and needness. 

“Cum for me, love,” Miyeon whispered against your lips. “Let me feel you.”

With a cry of ecstasy, the reader’s body tensed, her orgasm washing over her. Miyeon held her close, her fingers never slowing until her wife’s body went limp in her arms.

They lay there, tangled together, their breaths mingling. Miyeon kissed her wife’s forehead, holding her close.

“I love you,” she murmured. “I’m sorry I’ve been so absent. I’ll make more time for us. I promise.”

You looked up, a small smile playing on Miyeon’s lips. “I love you too, Miyeon. And I believe you. Just don’t forget about us again, okay?”

“Never,” Miyeon vowed, sealing the promise with a tender kiss. “You are my everything.”

As you two laid together, Miyeon realized that you calmed down, but she wasn’t finished with you just yet. “Nobody said we’re finished, right darlin’?” She teased and pulled you yet into another hot and desperate kiss. This night is gonna be a long one. 

[atzfilm]

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [eight.]

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

— pairing; ot8/reader (mingi/f.reader & hongjoong/f.reader focused); 7.1k

— chapter warnings; death, death mentions, murder mentions, slightly gory

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

FIC WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping. this series is very dark, if you're uncomfortable with the subjects listed do not read. warnings will change but be listed in each chapter. there is no tag list for this series.

Chapter 8:

The heat is all consuming.

Your moist grip struggles against the metal chains digging into your skin, slipping as you attempt to get a firm grasp. The dried blood isn’t exactly helping you, chipping off each time you attempt to pull. You can feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you. He hasn’t stopped telling you that it’s nearly impossible for someone of your strength to break it, but you cannot help but try. You can’t let yourself succumb to whatever those creatures are planning to do to you.

“Solaris, you’ll exhaust yourself.”

You shake your head, hitting the metal against the floor. It does not make even the slightest dent, rattling. “We’re not going to die here, Wooyoung.”

“We will if someone catches you trying to escape,” he breathes, lids heavy. “Just sleep for a bit, I’ll throw something at you to wake you up if someone comes.” You look around the two of you, the cell completely empty. Not even a single rock decorates the floor. His chuckle is strained as he observes the confused look on your face. “Joking.”

You let go, attempt in vain. Your gaze roams over Wooyoung instead; body completely covered in tightened rope, feet outstretched but bound to metal hoops welded into the floor, arms lifted above him, fingers spread with smaller hoops keeping them from moving. Likely bound so tightly he is unable to even flick a finger. It is as if they have molded him into the wall, only his head free.

“You’ve never looked at me with such worry,” he notes. “Perhaps I should find myself on the brink of death often.”

“Did they hurt you?” You ask, though the answer is obvious.

They hit a blunt object against your temple as you entered the cell, Wooyoung already trapped when you arrived. His head was limp, hanging forward. Though now he is speaking, you can see the wounds on his body, clothing wrinkled and torn. The creatures barely touched you. Your fabric is slightly ripped, but it is meager in comparison to him.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he says simply, avoiding the question entirely. You lean yourself back against the wall, desperate to push the thoughts of San from your mind. You have seen too much death since knowing them. Seeing one of them die, though, that was the last thing you ever expected. Your own chest aches with the loss. You could only fathom how Wooyoung has fared.

“It didn’t look too painful, right?”

“Hm?” You look at him.

“San. It didn’t look painful when he died, did it? Do you think it hurt badly?”

You press your lips together. He looks exhausted, but his eyes never leave yours, flicking down to the movement of your lips. Swearing soon follows, head shaking softly. “He didn’t deserve it. He cared so much, so so much. All he wanted was to belong, to care for us. But we let him down.”

He closes his eyes. “I could feel it. His soul being ripped from mine. It felt like someone dug a dagger into my chest and pulled out each rib. It was so painful, I could only imagine what it felt like for him.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “I never saw San cry before.”

“I'm sorry,” you say softly. That's all you can say. Seeing someone you love so violently gone - You could barely hold back your own tears as he died below you.

He hums, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “Can't wait to kick his ass when I see him again. He promised he wouldn't die before me,” Wooyoung huffs, shutting his eyes. “They never explained how much it would hurt.”

You're unable to respond, comforting words lost. If you could at least hold his hand you would, but your restraints prevent it. All you can offer is silence.

“He did like you. Had an odd way of showing it, but he did. He talked about you while we were alone when you were gone. Sure, most of it was scolding and jabs, but he only does that with people he cares about. Did, that.”

Wooyoung’s head lifts, lips tight.

You follow his gaze, eyes widening as your head tilts up.

“Shouldn't a creature of Lilith be in the pits of hell torturing wretched souls?” Wooyoung spits, face distorting into disgust. “You decide to waste your time on the two of us instead?”

The creature's mouth opens, a foul smell scorching the air. “A burden that Lilith brought to me. Your bodies should have been disposed of long ago.” Its bulbous eyes shift to you. “Especially one of her kind.”

“Fuck you,” he hisses between breaths. A violent crack echoes through the air as you try twisting around the creature to see. Your heartbeat rattles against your eardrums, panic settling in. He can’t die, he can’t.

The creature stares down at you, his hand wrapping around your neck. It’s large enough to cover your mouth as well, strained breaths through the wrinkled skin that holds you captive. If you could tell Wooyoung to stop talking you would, but the hand seems to melt your lips shut as it snarls down at you, the tugging of your hands doing nothing to help. The touch her you die moment isn’t really one you’d prefer being in - the creature could easily snap your neck.

“Shit,” Wooyoung curses. There’s a bit of space between the creature's shoulder and head for you to follow the noise. Wooyoung struggles to pull against the metal, blood dripping down his restraints as he grunts. “You’re messing with a kumiho, you worthless cun-”

The metal prison door flies across the room, bending against the concrete walls. The creature turns around, but it is not quick enough. Its hand is violently pulled off of you, thrown against the same wall. You squint through the action, trying to catch who exactly has entered.

“Mingi?” Wooyoung says loudly.

Mingi shifts in and out of existence, wings tendons strained as he attacks the creature. The sounds are disgusting, flesh torn, bones cracking. Mingi’s thrown to the ground near you, covered in a blackened substance. His eyes shine, iridescent. His fingers sink into your flesh, and you gasp. He glances back at you briefly, an apologetic look in his eyes as he shields you from the onslaught. He grunts as his back is beaten. The sound of tearing skin is not unfamiliar to you. You cannot do anything but stare, this time completely defenseless with your hands tied. A brief reprieve in the attack allows him to move swiftly, his grasp on you gone. You see his hand sink into the creature before anything else. Darkened crimson coats his fingers as he pulls it back. He grunts, his free hand twisting into paws, sharp tendons cracking in the air. He grips the creature by its neck, tossing it through the open doorway. He glances between Wooyoung and yourself, running over to Wooyoung first. Mingi hisses when his hand touches the metal.

“Foxglove.”

“Why’d you think I've been stuck in here so long,” Wooyoung murmurs.

Mingi rolls his eyes, closing his eyes as he whispers a cantation. The strange glow to the metal seemingly dissipates. He pulls on the welded metal against the wall, ripping out chunks of the surface before doing the other.

“I didn’t need saving,” Wooyoung tugs on the bolts, relief spreading across his face once they drop from the wall. His bones crack as his once shapeshifted arm goes back to normal, fingers outstretched as he sighs. He takes a slow breath, before looking at the two of you. “Oh sh-t, your wings, Mingi.”

You can hear the dripping of blood as Wooyoung points it out.

“It’s nothing. Looks to me like you did need me,” Mingi crouches next to you, glancing over your restraints. He pauses as he touches it, a distressed look passing over his face. You expected him to flinch back as he did with Wooyoung’s, but his fingers wrap around it easily.

No foxglove.

“Mingi-”

“It’s fine, Wooyoung,” his tone seems final. Wooyoung stares at him before sighing.

“Hongjoong didn’t come?” Wooyoung’s voice is soft as Mingi grips the metal and rips it from confining you. He shakes his head slowly, hand brushes against the metal burns on your wrist. You wince at his touch, his eyes meeting yours briefly before looking back at Wooyoung.

“He’s been preoccupied as of late,” Mingi holds out a hand and you grasp it, steadying yourself on two feet. “But he informed us of your location. You can further discuss it with him when we arrive back. Can you create a path? The energy in here should suffice.”

“But…”

“They’ll find us if you delay any longer, Wooyoung.”

A grumble leaves Wooyoung’s lips but he nods anyway, quick whispers spilling from his tight expression. The air tightens then expands, a gust of wind nearly unbalancing your already unstable stance. Mingi grips your forearm, eyes flicking down to your lips before moving back to your gaze. The last time you were pulled through, San kissed you. It’s likely not too different now. Mingi opens his mouth to speak but Wooyoung interrupts, pushing himself between the two of you. Mingi’s grip on you is gone, gaze wandering for a moment before he enters the pathway, leaving the two of you alone. You only catch the gruesome look of his backside briefly before he’s gone.

“Ready?” Wooyoung asks, and you nod. His lips press against yours, and you’re pulled into the portal.

—

He’s pulled from you right when you leave the portal. A groan and laugh echoing around the house as he’s pulled into someone’s arms. Yunho’s grip is tight as he holds him, his body trembling. Teasing leaves his face as he sighs, pulling him closer. It is intimate enough that you look away, watching as the others greet him coming back. You feel odd, their attachment to one another something you yearn for. You spot Jongho amongst the spark, a relieved look on his face as he studies you. A pitiful part of you expects for him to walk over and embrace you but he does the opposite, leaving the room entirely. Everyone is occupied enough that you decide to walk around the others, making your way to your room.

You feel his gaze before you see it, eyes flicking down the long hallway. Seonghwa stands there, arms crossed against his chest. He barely glances at you but you can see how his gaze lingers on your wounds, lips tight and jaw strained. Once you blink he is gone. It leaves a strange taste in your mouth, your hand wrapping around the brass knob before pushing your door open.

Exhaustion swarms your body once you enter your room, slumping against the wooden floors, narrowly missing a wide crack. The chaos that was once in your room is now gone, the blood coating the floors nowhere to be found, wooden boards put back in their place. The only evidence of there being any sort of fight lies in the hole in the wall, wood piled beneath it. Likely to board it up temporarily. It looks like no one has gotten the chance to do much - nails and bolts piled along with it. It was likely Yunho or Jongho who cleaned up your room enough for it to be livable - you remind yourself to thank them at some point in the future. Once things have settled a bit.

The stench of sweat and blood still simmers in the area, nose wrinkling. Your eyes move over to your doorway, the final moments of San with you spreading across your mind. His death is not forgotten. A few painful swallows of spit later, you shakingly crawl to your bathroom, shutting the door behind you. The weight of the past few events almost cripples you, your eyes shut as you struggle to hold back your tears.

You’re not sure how much more you can handle. The isolation is getting to you - you used to have Soobin to grieve with. And if it weren’t him, it was your mother, your family. They kept you from spiraling, from sinking further and further into yourself. But you have no one. You look at the reflection of yourself. The bruises on your neck are darkening, deepening the longer you stare at yourself. The urge to call your mother vanishes the longer you stare at the mirror. Subjecting her to the possibility of this happening - you gag at the mere thought. You don’t want to involve anyone else. No one you care about.

It is a strange feeling, the amount of people in this home should be suffocating. And yet, you just feel so lonely.

—

The bowl beneath you distorts. Your vision blurs as you stare, fading in and out of focus. You can hear the birds chirp as they glide through the thickened forest in front of you. You look up, a chill brushing against the raised bumps of your arms.

No one has told you why Wooyoung and yourself were taken. The others have been busy. Hongjoong has not left his room, preoccupied. The horrid look in Mingi's eyes when he pulled you from your cell still haunts you. It was almost soul crushing as his nails dug into your flesh, the wounds are wrapped in gauze still.

Chopsticks slide through your lips, grains of rice mush. You haven’t the energy in you to protest as Seonghwa slid it to you, disappearing before you could thank him. The fear of hatred in his eyes stops you from ever meeting his gaze. He warned them all of what you being here would do. Of what was to come. The two of you haven’t discussed it amongst yourselves but you can feel the blame being spat at you whenever you are in the same room. Enough so that you promptly leave before a word gets out.

No one has really spoken to you since you came back. Even Jongho could barely muster a greeting, words murmured as he left you alone. All you’ve felt is alienation. Leaving was at some point an option, but now, after everything that has happened, it’s the last thing on your mind. San’s sacrifice would have been for nothing if you waltzed out of this home and into death a town away.

It makes sense why you’ve been left alone. It just doesn’t make the feeling go away knowing that.

You force the last scoop of rice into your mouth, swallowing dryly as you stand. The eerie sound of the hallways greets you as you enter, your steps swift and sure.

You walk past Yeosang’s room. The others’ words ring true – it is shut, not a breath of sound escaping through the thin cracks around the door. You'd never attempt to open it. You grieved on your own even though San only began caring for you at the very end. Yeosang and San though, they were attached. Every room you walked in they were always in deep conversation, lightened with laughter. Yeosang's annoyed expression was often softened by the warm look in his eyes when they spent time together. They are all mates but there was just something special between the two. Something you noticed with Yunho and Mingi, Wooyoung and Hongjoong. A bond unlike any other. Your gaze lingers only for another second before you leave, hands wrapped around the rim of the bowl. Wooyoung hasn't left his room either, not even to mess with you, which was fine.

You just can't get used to the silent hallways.

The kitchen is thankfully empty. You waste no time scrubbing the bowl, praying that no one enters while you are alone.

A low groan as you place the bowl in the cabinet fills the silence. You turn, almost stumbling back at the sight.

A blue tint coats his fingertips as he grips the counter. You're unmoving, staring at the carcass of what he once was. A groan escapes blackened lips as he stumbles forward, falling to his knees. His fingers let go of the counter, instead gripping his grayed hair. You can see himself in him if you ignore the obvious signs of decay. His clothing is what he wore that night, stained with his blood and yours. You dare not squint to see if the hole is still in his body, stomach twisting.

“He is still not alive, not fully.”

It's no surprise that Hongjoong follows, his eyes trained on San's crumbled body. There's a strange gleam in his eyes as he watches him. As if he's proud of what he turned his dead mate into. You cannot see anything in San but horror. He oddly does not smell like death, but you dare not get closer to see if he… it… does.

“Do the others know?”

His gaze meets yours. “I wouldn't give their hopes up for something like this. He may turn up dead again.”

“Hongjoong…”

“He is quite marvelous, isn’t he?” Hongjoong’s hands brush his hair tenderly, warmth in his gaze. “He is not himself, but he will be soon. If it all works, this would help the others see reason. They won’t be as upset anymore. We all can be happy again.”

“This, that isn't San. San is dead–”

Fingers wrap around your neck before you can utter another word. His eyes are solid white as he tightens his grip, jaw clenched. You gasp for air, fingers clawing at his hand, desperate for him to let go. Your bruises throb against his fingers. He only tightens before loosening. You suck in a long breath, cupping your neck as you try to regain your sense of self. He seems to catch himself as he rests his eyes on yours.

“San is alive. Not fully but he will be. He must be,” Hongjoong looks back at him. “I'm taking him to your town. He is still a Seelie, unfortunately. He will need their positivity to gain enough strength to live again. I would have forfeited your life, but you reek of pessimism. Delicious for me, but repulsive for him.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“You aren't going to kill them, are you? The townspeople?”

Hongjoong laughs. You see his arm raise but your momentum isn't enough to stop his touch. He holds your chin between his fingers. “What do you want from me, girl? You hope for reassurance, for something other than this, than us?” his grip only tightens as his harsh words drip from his lips. His eyes seem to darken the longer he looks at you, steady on yours. “I will kill them all for San to live if I must.”

“Let me go.”

“I am not letting you go. You are not leaving. You will never leave.”

“Hongjoong–”

His eyes flutter close, a slow breath entering his throat. He opens them again, grin slowly growing on his face. “We will be your final hope, kumiho. You are ours. Not those soon-to-be-dead humans. Grow to care less for them, it will be better for you in the end once you see their graves.”

He leans forward, eyes steady on yours. “You are mine. Even if you yourself do not believe it. Come, San.” He reaches out his hand. San's hand touches his as Hongioong entwines their fingers. “Time to feed.”

He is gone with a blink.

—

Mingi's strikes are harder. He does not stop in his attacks, immediately swiping his opposing sword when you block one. Your breaths are rapid as you desperately try to keep up with his moves. They soon grow faster, your vision blurring trying to keep up.

“Mingi–” you grunt, dunking with another wide swing of his sword. It slices through the air, the sound audible. Fear grows as he continues, eyes seemingly glazed over. This is no longer a practice for you. “Mingi!”

He does not flinch at your shouting, sword raising again. This time you grab the pole he gave you, immediately throwing it against his chest. A loud boom surrounds you, your hands flying to your ears. Mingi's sword drops from his hands and to the mats. He’s thrown back several yards, body hitting a large tree behind him. Your eyes widen, stumbling to your feet. You leap over scraps of wood to get to him, panicked. His breaths are struggling as you crouch next to him, holding your hand against his chest.

“Mingi? Mingi, are you okay?”

He begins to laugh, head lifting. A bruised lip and swollen eye greet you, the pit in your stomach tightening at the sight. You cup his face, turning his head to the right. Cuts cover his skin from the splintered wood. All he does is chuckle as he watches your worried gaze.

“Fuck, I'm sorry,” you say.

“You did what you needed to do, nymph,” his hand encloses yours, lifting it from his face. He lets it go, touching his skin. He winces, sighing. “It wasn't your full strength, but it was enough. We might not be at a dead end with you after all.”

“You did that on purpose?” You stand, speaking slowly. “I thought you were losing yourself.”

His expression is aghast as he examines you. “Never. I have too much to protect to let my mind wander in a match.”

Frustration cannot help but rise in your body as you look down at him. The longer you stare, the longer your own mind wanders. The way San's eyes looked at you, slowly glossing over. The resigned look on his face. The blood. The Seelie dead beneath your fingertips. All of the blood.

You shut your eyes, taking a breath. You turn, leaving Mingi on the ground as you go back to gather your things. You hear him standing from his spot but you ignore him entirely, the horrible thoughts growing. The same face that has haunted you each time you've closed your eyes. Your own mind begins to mold it into the faerie just behind you.

“Are you truly this upset?” Mingi stops you from zipping your bag, hand covering the opening. Your hand wraps around his wrist to tug him away, removing it when a small grunt leaves his lips as you grip too harshly on a new wound.

“I hurt you, Mingi,” you say. “And you laughed.”

“You were supposed to hurt me. That's how you get better at fighting. It's what we do.”

“You should have told me.”

“You wouldn't have fought as hard if I did.”

You turn around, meeting his eyes. His wounds are slowly healing, but the ill feeling has yet to leave your body. “You should have told me.”

His eyes rest on yours. “I won't coddle you. Weakness will not help you, nymph. You saw the way San fell. I’m doing this to help you protect yourself, and to stop one of us from intervening when we see you being targeted. A few cuts and bruises shouldn’t stop you from practicing. We aren’t done.”

He will never understand it. It is his nature - violence, chaos, blood. For a time you thought there to be something more there. And maybe there is. But right now, as your eyes follow his movements, the empty look in his eyes, all you see is nothing. Eerily, the longer you stare, the longer you feel that same odd feeling as the last time you spoke to Soobin.

Like he is not entirely himself.

“I’ll practice with someone else.”

“Who?”

“Why are you so insistent with this, Mingi? We’re done for tonight,” You tug on your bag again, but he does not let go. “Mingi.”

“Do you think we do not think of San every waking moment? Do you believe us faeries to be so heartless that we do not grieve his absence?”

“I never said that.”

“But you stare at me as if it’s true. I am doing this for you, for us, kumiho. And if you were the least bit less selfish you would see what my intentions are. He died protecting you. Do you expect me to just stand back and watch each of us continue to die because we are shielding you? Do you think it fair that our lives are lost because of you?”

Your thoughts move back to Wooyoung, his hands cupping your face, head pressing against yours. It’s not your fault, solaris. Sometimes things just happen, and we cannot do anything to stop it. Don’t put this on yourself, please.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“And yet here we are,” he lets go of your zipper, pushing the bag against your chest. You stumble slightly, and he grips the bag, steadying you. Mild disgust coats his face, “Take a reprieve. We start again after I feed.”

—

Sweat drips down your body, soaking your clothing as you heave against the mats. Mingi is not too far away, humming to himself as he packs the training gear away. He has not asked you once if you were alright and you do not blame him. You cough, blood splattering against the mats.

“Shit,” you mumble, hands roaming for your water bottle. You grab it with shaky hands, swirling fresh water in your mouth before spitting it in the grass near you. It’s fine, just a bit of dry mouth. Nothing alarming. Your chest tightens as you shut your eyes, trying to calm your own heartbeat down.

A hand appears in front of you, a small bottle. The liquid inside almost glows, thickened as you take it from him. “It’s revivify. It will only take a few minutes to help. One sip is enough for now.”

“Thanks,” you open the bottle, glancing inside. The stench is a bit sweet, though your nose does not quite agree with it. Swallowing it is a struggle in itself, your throat pulsing, threatening to regurgitate it back to the mats. But you force it down, a rumble echoing.

“Keep the rest.”

“Are you sure?” You struggle to your feet.

“We have no use for it since it cannot work on Unseelie. It wouldn’t work on us even if we desired it. It is supposed to work on humans, and although you are not one, it doesn’t hurt to try,” He glances at your bag sitting on the bench, grabbing it. “I will leave this outside your room.”

“Thank you.”

He looks at you. “I am doing this for your own good, you see it, no? It is destiny, just as it was for us to meet you, for San to die. It all was supposed to happen.”

“You believe in destiny?” You raise your brow. “You seem like the last person in your whole house to believe in it.”

“All faeries do,” Mingi shrugs. “It is fate for us to meet, just as it is for you to come to your city, to leave your partner, to be out here with me now. Even as we speak it is words that were already ingrained within us.”

“Makes it feel like we don’t have freedom of choice.”

His brows furrow. “How so?”

“If it is all predestined, how could we decide how things go? How this all ends? Why even try when we are forced along a linear path?”

“Ah…” he nods slowly. “You still have the simple mind of a human.”

“Doesn’t answer the question,” you frown.

“I said it is all fate, but I didn’t say that fate is linear. Each path we take is what we choose, but it is fate that brings us together, just as it is fate if we are brought apart. But that is too difficult for you to comprehend now.” He looks at you strangely. “How are your wrists?”

You look down, finger brushing against the forgotten wounds. It isn’t welted like before, but it’s scarring over, a deeper color contrasted against your skin. You’ve all but pushed that experience from your mind, too tortuous to dwell on amongst everything else. “I haven’t thought of it.” You admit, glancing at him. “Too many things going on right now for me to cry about something like this.”

His eyes rest on your wrists, before glancing away. “I pushed you farther than need be today. I overestimated how much strength you have in this human form.”

“I understand.” There’s an apology between his words, somewhere. You glance at his back. The pure horror that crossed Wooyoung’s face when he saw it in the imprisonment. Your quick glance was enough to see that it was painful. Horribly so.

“Are you okay?”

He furrows his brows, “I told you I was fine before.”

“No, I mean,” you hesitate. He closed off when Wooyoung questioned it, there’s no doubt he’d do the same to you. But you cannot help but try. “Your wings, your back. Are you okay?”

His eyes widen only minimally before resting. “Fine.” His steps are fast, not waiting for even a moment to hear what you have to respond. You stare at the potion in your hand, thoughts scattered. Perhaps he does care, in his own strange way.

Later that night, you find a small bag containing a potion hanging on the doorknob to your room with a scrawled note. The loneliness feeling shifts as you read it.

For your wrists. -M

—

Your gaze is unable to shift from your hands. Numb, cold from the breeze escaping through the gaping hole in your room. It's partially boarded up, a box of nails and wood slacks resting beneath it. Humorous given the situation – you don’t doubt the faeries you reside with have some sort of fix it spell on their roster. But you've insisted on doing it yourself. Splinters dig into the tender skin, your thumb rubbing against the risen surface. It is not enough to make you feel half of what the others felt, but it helps. You press your thumb into the small wooden splinters, pain ringing your nerves as you bleed.

Your new door flings open, nearly breaking off its hinges. You flinch, moving away from the sound. Hongjoong stands there, gaze scanning the room swiftly before resting on you. The once cocky Unseelie looks oddly haggardly, skin oily, hair no longer neatly styled. As if he just awoke from a slumber, clothing barely thrown on his figure. He sighs, fingers pinching his nose.

“You are not hurt.” He murmurs.

You raise your palm to him, before dropping it, picking up the tweezers near you. “Nothing a few hours of picking at my skin wouldn't fix. You almost broke my door, by the way.”

“I smelled blood.”

There's a light film of blood on your palm, but it's barely a teaspoon. “The wood pricked me.”

“Could you be even a bit more careful, kumiho?”

You laugh dryly, “No demonic creatures breaking through the walls again, if you were worried about that.”

His oddly concerned expression soon disappears. He grips your doorknob, ready to swing it back into its place. Just before he closes it, his eyes flick to you. “Caring for yourself shouldn't be such a feat.”

“It was a mistake, that’s all,” you murmur.

“Why lie? Remember where you are and what has happened. Unseelie may not care as Seelie do, but an ounce of sympathy would work wonders.”

The door shuts. You watch as the knob drops from its place, rolling against the wooden floor.

—

Your existence is not forgotten in the room. Body cemented into the loveseat as the discussion, fingers brushing against the potted plant San once cared for. Their words are heated, speaking in a language you cannot understand aside from names. Yeosang is not in the room as you predicted. Seonghwa paces back and forth, arms gesturing wildly, pointing at you every so often. Wooyoung’s tempered voice responded with a bit of annoyance, his presence far away from you not unnoticed. In fact, it seems that Jongho is the only one who could even stand your presence, passing you a novel before sitting on the armrest of your chair.

“Death is something we cannot overcome by merely forgetting it,” Hongjoong’s words ring, speaking in a language you can understand, looking at you briefly. Seonghwa does not attempt to hide the annoyance in his expression. “We must do something, or others may think we are weak.”

“They can try,” Yunho says, leaning against the archway. “Their attempts will be in vain.”

“Them trying is what I am actively avoiding.”

“We are Unseelie, Hongjoong. Someone attempting to take over happens every few centuries. They have likely found out about San’s death already, and Wooyoung being taken. It is only a matter of time before a group enters the meeting place. And they have questioned her presence already,” Seonghwa looks at you. “She should be removed.”

“And taken by Seelie? Is that the wisest thing to do?” Hongjoong scowls. “Once she is able to use her abilities without forgetting and they have control of her, we will all die.”

“She has already caught the attention of Lilith. We must kill her then.”

Your hand stills on the leave your brushing against, turning to Seonghwa. His back is facing you as he says it, waiting for Hongjoong to reply. He’s greeted with silence instead, a loud sigh escaping his lips. “What use does she have to live? We remove any chance of her growing to learn her skills and killing us, or leaving and finding herself in the hands of another group of fae. It is the best solution.”

“You would allow San’s death to be in vain, Seonghwa?”

All of you turn to the voice. Yeosang’s hands grip the doorway, eyes narrowing as he stares at him. Though the Unseelie is far, you can see the glimpse of a knowing smile on Yunho’s lips. Seonghwa looks pained as he meets his gaze, a slight step forward. “Yeosang.”

“Answer me.”

“It is the best solution.”

“You have not answered.”

“San would see reason in my choice if he were in my shoes.”

“You have endlessly criticized Hongjoong for his choices and yet make a selfish one of your own.”

“I am thinking of us. I have always thought of us. How can you not see that? Why don’t any of you see it? All because of this… thing?” He points at you. “It’s my fault for not killing her in the beginning. I allowed all of this to happen. We would have already moved on from this town, far away enough that even the thought of her would never be. But I have accepted that I made a bad decision. I wish that you all accept my words when I say keeping her around is a bad decision.”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “San’s death is not yours to take blame. It is not that simple-”

“I don’t want to see any of you die again.” The angst in his voice is palpable, strained. He grips the table near him, eyes glued to the floor. “I want you all to live. Please, please consider this. I won’t ask for a vote because I know where it would lead. Just, please.”

Hongjoong’s hand reaches out to touch his arm, but Seonghwa pulls it away from him harshly. “I’m tired of having these pointless fucking meetings when everyone dismisses my words. I am tired of it all. Do what you want, I don’t care anymore.” He leaves, shoulder harshly pushing through Yunho’s body as he exits.

Yunho reaches out a hand as Yeosang stumbles, murmuring words you cannot understand in his ear. He nods slowly, reaching an arm around his neck. The height difference is steep, but close enough for Yunho to help him out of the room. The others seem to leave not too long after, Hongjoong standing in the same spot once it's just the two of you left. The idea of being alone with him is uncomfortable enough that you begin to follow the others out. Until he speaks.

He never quite shuts up.

“We’re not killing you,” Hongjoong says. “We’ve decided on that already.”

“I feel so much better now that you say it,” you mumble. “I don’t fault Seonghwa for wanting to get rid of me. You’ve all been through so much since we’ve known each other.”

You exit the room, the soft steps of Hongjoong not too far behind. You expect him to stay behind when you walk outside, but he follows well. You stop walking, turning to look at him. “What?”

“I wouldn’t be able to kill you,” Hongjoong explains. “Many of them may hate me if I arrived without you with me. But if you made the decision on your own, it would be no fault of mine.”

“You want me to kill myself?”

“No,” he says after a moment. “I still cannot find the reason for their fascination with you. But I do not want that. Do you want to die tonight?”

You’ve been brave. Leaving them behind once before, dealing with that Seelie before San came to save you. Before, you thought you’d be able to survive without them by your side. But now? Even with the weapon that Mingi gave you, doubt settles within you. Your eyes flick up to the house. To the barely boarded up hole on your porch.

“No.”

“Then why are you not trying hard enough in your training? You have overcome danger before – we all saw the aftermath ourselves. Or, maybe…” he pauses, a strange look crossing his face. “Maybe your body knows that it is not a life threatening emergency, enough so that you would show your true form. Perhaps you just need a push.”

Hongjoong’s hand grips your arm, dragging you deeper into the forest. “I can test it now.”

“What the hell are you doing?” You grip his hand, but it is in vain. His nails dig into your skin as he pulls you, your pace struggling to keep up to the quickness of his. His gaze is lost as he paces through. “Hongjoong this isn’t funny.”

“Unfortunately I’m not trying to be humorous,” he glances down at you. “I will need to attempt to kill you in order to see if it works.”

The forest begins to dwindle, and soon you hear the sound of waves. You’ve been out in this area with Soobin before, know that your town rests near large cliffs. You visited it more often than not, standing at the treeline as you looked out into the ocean. He drags you to the edge, ignoring your pleas. Your hand digs into his sleeve, begging him to not do this. To realize what he's doing is wrong.

“Hongjoong please,” you say desperately, voice hoarse. He grabs your hand, ripping your grip off.

“I don't want you to die,” he says softly. “But this… this could help. This could show us your true potential, y/n. Don't you see it?”

Your name rolls off his tongue like a curse. The word is strong enough to stun you for a brief moment. But just the pause in time for him to dangle you over the ledge. His gaze is far gone, his free hand brushing against your cheek. Black pupils stare back at you, his brown hair a sheer white. His touch grows colder and colder as he touches your cheek, hums echoing around the forest. You grew unafraid of them all since you've been with them for months – thinking that your life was safe enough. But the blank gaze of his, the eerie tune that falls from his lips, it is not caring. It is not human.

“The others will know.”

“They will forgive me once you come back alive.”

“This isn't humane–”

“Neither of us are humans, kumiho. We do not need to follow the morality of human law. Can't you see it? I'm saving you. This is me saving you.” His lips brush across your cheeks, indecipherable Latin whispered into your ear.

He lets go.

[xxsugarbonesxx]

retired!Miguel rambling

🩷 I love domestic Miguel he is my everything

i guess this is head canons??? idk i just wrote what i thought felt right lol

mostly fluff, some smut, no gender is specified for reader,

though it doesn't go into depth, pregnancy and pregnancy sex is mentioned so read at your own risk 🩷

MINORS DO NAWT INTERACT!!!!

Miguel is naturally warm, his skin is so soft and warm. He smells like firewood and citrus, trust. In the winter you’ll lounge over his body like a seal on a rock in the sun. In the summer, you drag the kiddie pool from the back and fill it up. Dipping your feet in the cold water while you two watch the kiddos and dogs play in the sprinklers. 

He makes chunky babies. If you have the ability to get pregnant, most people will assume you’re having twins ‘cause how big your tummy is once you’re with child. But you just got one chubby little babe in there, and then they’re born with a whole head of their papa’s coffee colored curls. 

Piggy backing off the previous: once he gets out of his office in the Spider Society, leaving the Spider Man role behind, he’ll gain some weight. He’ll get that daddy pooch/dad bod going down, his pubes thick and curly. A whole forest is growing under his pudgy tummy. He doesn’t think shaving is that important once he’s settled down and has his kids but is willing to shave if that’s what you prefer. 

He did do the thing where he shaved his face completely to show the baby when they were around five months old. Popping out from behind the corner to show the babe his clean shaven face with you filming it. It all ended with all three of you crying and snuggling with the baby once they started sobbing and screeching since all they’re tiny life they’ve seen their daddy with a neat, salt and peppery beard.

And if you CAN’T get pregnant, (whether you’re amab or infertile) bro will be going at it with you like an ANIMAL. He’s got fat breeder balls, full of hot, sticky cum to pump into your needy hole. Once he’s cum, he’ll give one last thrust, nice and deep into your gummy walls. Plugging his semen deep inside you, keeping it there. After care in this instance is nonexistent, since he falls asleep on top of you, still deep in your guts.

He just likes touching you, if you’re alone in the car, waiting at the red light. His palm travels up and down your thigh absentmindedly as his eyes bore into the stop light. (He wears those glasses that turn into sunglasses when he goes outside, argue with the wall) Maybe he’ll get brave enough or the light still hasn’t changed for awhile, his hand will dip under your shirt, his thumb pad playing with your soft nipple until it hardens.

As long as you’re alone, he’ll have his hands on you. Six times out of ten it leads to actual sex.

I don’t think of him as a god in bed really, he’s just a guy. He’s gonna do what he thinks you and him are gonna like (what you want will always be top priority for him I know it) Acting on lizard brain, he’s gonna do what he’s gonna do without much thought beforehand. He couldn’t edge you to save his life, if you’re whining or crying, he’s just gonna let you cum, he just can’t say no to you. :(

Foreplay is always important to him though, mainly just because I want him to rub my back, I think he’d go for the whole massage thing. Spending a good amount of time rubbing and massaging your shoulders, back and cunny/cock. His hand is so big, he’d be able to grip the space between your thighs with one hand no issue. Rubbing back and forth until you cum from his hands alone. He likes to have you cum at least once before he’s actually inside you. He’s a gentleman after all. :))) His favorite positions are full nelson, side fucking, doggy style (I will die on the hill he’s more of an ass then a titties man I don’t care!!!) and face sitting.

If you can get pregnant, pregnant sex is even more tender and loving. Usually taking brakes to pepper your body and face with little kisses. 

@cupcakeinat0r wrote a tasty yummy fic about growing old with Miguel, and I’ve had that stuck in my brain since then. Around his forties, Miguel’s really mellowed out. He’s not as a perfectionist or cold and irritable as he used to be. Having kids has helped him calm more, having a more relaxed approach to problems now. Then his quick to anger, slow to calm back down personality when he was acting as spider man. Getting married and having kids has helped him realize that he doesn’t have to be the tough guy in the room. Though his kids are just as stubborn as him now. 

I love the domestic potential of Retired!Miguel, you two having a song, that’s your song as a couple. Cooking dinner together for your little babies. Having a show you two watch an episode or two of after putting kids to bed. Sitting on the couch, your legs over his lap, drinking wine with a kids movie on as your makeshift date night. 🩷

[klttn]

THE BUNNYGIRL FIC WAS SO PERFECT omg i LOVE literally everything you write🩷🩷

could i perchance request a puppy girl reader and husk smutfic? no specifics just have fun w it!! i feel like that dynamic would be adorbs!!<3

-🩰

𐙚 ⋆˚ 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎 ⋆ ｡ ྀི

— 𝜗𝜚 husk x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : husk likes to draw out the cutest sounds from his little puppy. nsfw. smut. mention of husk’s knot. soft dom husk. puppy reader. biting. teasing. pet play duh. husk is a talker during the whole thing. tails.

cats and dogs. enemies by nature. the cat running from the dog, in hopes to remain free of harm from its vicious bite. the dog so heady in its chase to capture the cat in its grasp.

but with you and husk it was the opposite.

the hopeless puppy submitting to the harsh claws of her older kitty boyfriend. not that they were actually that harsh — unless you begged for that. more like a soft grip that had you melting for him in every way imaginable. his pup, his pretty girl, all his. and you didn’t mind that that chase was reversed.

“so pretty, doll, look at you, such a cute little puppy,” husks voice sounded in your ears, the praise going straight to your cunt, making you mewl and buck down on his pulsing dick. “such a good girl when you take me like this.” his hands wandered to your soft ears, lost in the mess of your hair, stroking them and scratching them just the way you liked.

a small moan slipped from your lips, hands resting either side of your head as you allowed yourself to succumb to his touch and gaze, “husk.. please.” you begged, voice barely there and hoarse. “more.”

chuckling, husk let his free hand rest on your hip, gripping harsh and possessive causing you to whimper. “please what, pup?” he teased, “tell your old man what you want.”

“.. touch me,” you breathed through broken moans. husk knew exactly what you needed, exactly where you needed it, he just delighted in watching you squirm for him.

his smile turned slightly sinister, “but im already touching you little pup.” he reiterated his words with sharp thrusts and the grip in both your tangles of hair and your soft hip became bruising. forcing you to feel him.

“more.. please, need more, touch me there.”

husks hands found themselves loosening, retreating his grasp and trailing your body. “where, baby?” he placed a kiss on your knee that was hoiked up and bent over his shoulder, running his hands softly over your outer thigh, painfully light but oh so addicting. “here?” you shook your head. his hands soon found themselves residing on your tits, flushed and nipples practically begging for attention. through all of this, his pace didn’t falter, softening just a bit but he made sure you could still feel every inch of him pumping inside you. he swirled his fingertips over your nipples, rolling them ever so gently, your back arching into the intoxicating touch. “what about here, doll?” you shook your head again and he begrudgingly traced his hands to your waist and hips. two of your most sensitive places. “what about here? need me to hold you down, bruise those pretty hips and fuck you silly, yeah baby?”

you couldn’t help it as a frustrated huff left your lips, whining so pitifully at his teasing. “huskie, please, you know what i need, please.”

husk dropped his face to your inner thigh and bit, hard, a lewd whimper leaving your mouth as you pathetically started humping your hips toward him. “since my pretty pup begs so cutely.” one of his hands freed your hip and shifted between you, his claw tracing down your tummy to the top of your pussy. “as soon as my fingers touch that pretty cunt of yours i wanna hear you whimper for me, those cute sounds could make me cum on the spot, need everyone to hear how good i make you feel.”

husk’s thumb rolled over your clit, eliciting those adorable whimpers he so desperately wanted, your head lolled back in relief at the touch, mouth gaping open and tongue peeking out so cutely. “that’s it, puppy, come undone, cum for me, milk my knot out of me with that tight little cunt of yours.” your eyes rolled back at his words, frantically moving your hips in time with his thrusts and his thumb, rubbing you just right. “you sound so adorable when you’re so full of me, baby.”

that pit in your stomach started to build and fast. so much teasing and feeling his cock fucking into you just right, you couldn’t take it anymore. with a high pitched whine, you came, back arching so high, husks cock was pushing impossibly deeper and soft tears falling down your cheeks. “fuck baby, so tight, good girl, puppy, good fuckin girl,” husk keened, endless praise spewing from his lips as you came down. your tail wagging involuntarily behind you. “so fuckin cute.”

husk let your legs slip off his shoulders, letting you fall after your high, his hands moving to scratch your ears and contunue to spew endless praise at you, “my pretty little puppy, you’re so cute, you take me so well, you sound so pretty when you cum, doll.”

your tails wagging picked up, your ears reacting in a similar manor, your puppy instincts taking over. dumbness leaking through just a little bit. eyes wide and needy for every word that fell to your ears.

husk chuckled softly, “do you think you can be a good girl and let me use you? i’ve still not cum baby and im just so fuckin hard looking at you like this.”

you blushed, biting your lips and nodding your head, “knot me, please huskie.”

“thats my girl.”

[intotheelliwoods]

Thought of the day: If either Future or Present Leo had lost a lot of blood and was in dire need of a blood transfusion, the other Leo would be the perfect donator for that since they have the same blood and all

IDK I just dont think I have ever seen this in any fics or anything?? But it has potential so im throwing the thought to the world

[goldkirk]

.

[permettez-moi]

Hey, quick fanfic question for people smarter than me.

I know it's a big no-go to sell bound fanfics because of some copyright stuff, and doing things like that endangering the entired fanfic world.

What about those 'print a single book!' Companies, would that be okay for fanfics, or do you really need to bind it yourself?

[fleetsonourgecentral]

Well here is another ask! (I Hope you don't get Mad)

Can I request more(Good) Fleetway Super, scourge and Fleetway Sonic just chilling together? But instead of movies they are playing games

I am always happy to answer asks about these two fkdhsad I'll never get mad for having more excuses to talk or write about them!!!

~~~

Sonic wished he could say he didn't know how he'd been dragged into this, but unfortunately, he was all too aware of exactly who was to blame for this.

It was all Ebony's fault. She was the one who kept insisting Sonic, ugh, just got to know Super. Because he wasn't that bad when he wasn't evil and trying to murder Sonic and his friends in cold blood, could Sonic not find it in his heart to get to know him a little better and stop hating him?

He should have kept refusing. He never should have given in. But for some unknown reason, Scourge of all people decided to back her up like the traitor he was. The resulting discussion had been long and torturous, and Tekno had unhelpfully chimed in with multiple comments of her own, because apparently she had never seen Super in a murderous enough rampage to be put off by him. And then Amy reluctantly backed up Tekno, because of course she did, and then-

Well. And then Sonic somehow found himself breathing the same air as Super without either of them fighting.

The process had been, so far, just as long and torturous as his initial discussion (fight) over the issue with Scourge, and to Sonic's eternal annoyance, it wasn't... well, it wasn't not working. So much so he had somehow found himself here, in the back room of the Groovy Train, Scourge firmly sandwiched between him and Super as they sat in front of a TV with controllers in their hands.

It... wasn't the worst situation Sonic had ever been in. He didn't like it, but if he had to be in a room with Super, it was better to not have the fucker trying to kill him, and so far, he hadn't. He'd needed surprisingly little instruction on how to work the game - good, because Sonic didn't have the patience to waste time explaining it to him - and had commented, with far too much snark, "We were the same person once, you know, you spent too much time on this game for me to not know how to play it."

Cheeky bastard.

They'd argued for a while about what game to play - or rather, Sonic and Scourge argued, mainly because Scourge wanted to play that stupid Marxio Brothers game solely to piss Sonic off - before they finally settled on Avenue Warrior 2, a fighting game that was definitely not one of Sonic's favourites. They just happened to have a copy of it back at the base, and it was a good way to unwind after a difficult mission.

Normally, the only person Sonic could convince to play it with him was Tails; the game supported up to four players, but no one else had ever really cared enough to play it with him more than a few times, sulking over getting their asses kicked. Pixel Brain was the only one who stuck at it, with that determined little frown that screamed he was determined to beat Sonic one day. As if, but it was nice for the kid to have a goal. Lately, he'd started to be able to rope Scourge into playing it, which was more of a challenge; Scourge wasn't as familiar with the game as Sonic, didn't know all the little tricks and secrets, but he was a fast learner, and kept Sonic on his toes. But Tails refused to play when Scourge did, saying they got too competitive when they were together, so Sonic was used to only ever playing with one other person. He'd never seen three player mode before.

"Son of a bitch!"

Apparently three player mode involved a lot of the two of them getting too caught up in their rivalry, only for Super to remind them he was there by coming in and delivering some particularly devastating moves, because of course the bastard had leeched off some of Sonic's hard earned skills after the split.

He'd be more mad about it, but every time Scourge's avatar fell was a balm to soothe the irritation.

"You fucking cheater!" Scourge accused, waving his controller.

"Not my fault you're bad at the game," Super replied, quick as a flash. He was usually so meek, but apparently the distraction of video games brought some kind of confidence out of him he didn't normally possess, at least when he was speaking to Scourge. He still shrank back whenever Sonic spoke to him, but honestly, that was perfectly fine by Sonic. He wasn't exactly leaping to become Super's friend.

The only reason he was here at all was because Scourge had talked him into it.

"Bad at the - how am I bad at the game when you're the one who-"

"Just accept you're shit," Sonic said, mashing the buttons on his controller to dodge what would have been a spectacularly vicious combo from Super. They were infuriatingly evenly matched. "I saw that coming a mile away. If you couldn't dodge it, that's your fault."

Scourge hissed, which was the only warning Sonic and Super got before he darted forward and promptly unplugged both their controllers.

"Hey!"

"Oh fuck off, you little moss covered hairball-"

Sonic scrambled to plug his controller back in before Super could; they were both good enough at the game that being the first to get their controller working again was the difference between win or lose. Apparently, Super realised the same thing, because he was almost as fast as Sonic. Their shoulders bumped as they frantically tried to plug in their controllers, and both of them tensed at the contact.

Sonic recovered a split second before Super did, plugging his controller back in with a triumphant yell and flinging himself back to the sofa. Super wasn't far behind, snatching up his controller just in time to barely dodge a punch from Sonic's avatar. Lucky fucker.

"Do that again and I'll dangle you out the window with the wire of your controller," Sonic threatened, leaning to the side while dodging a kick like that would help him. Both of their avatars were dangerously low on health; it would be a close call, and Sonic was determined to win.

"I can always turn the console off-"

Scourge twitched like he was going to get up, and in unison Sonic and Super grabbed his arms and flung him back down. For good measure, Sonic wrapped his legs around Scourge's torso, pinning him there.

"If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was ask," Scourge said, tilting his head back to grin at Sonic.

"I want you to not be a sore loser."

"I'm not a-!"

"You kinda are," Super said quietly, his earlier confidence shaken from the brief physical contact the two of them shared.

Sonic took advantage of his moment of distraction to deliver a final blow to Super's character, basking in smug, triumphant victory as the game declared him the winner.

He was used to being victorious in this game, but he had to admit, it was a lot more rewarding when he had to actually work for it.

Not that he would admit it out loud. If he ever recounted this story to anyone, he'd tell them it was a landslide victory; no need to let everyone know Super of all people gave him so much trouble.

"Another round?" he asked, smiling smugly at Scourge. "Think you can take another loss without trying to sabotage me, this time?"

"I've won three of these," Scourge complained. "Super's won four. Stop acting like you're hot shit just because you have the most experience with this stupid game."

"I'm not acting like I'm hot shit, I am hot shit."

"Shut up." Scourge untangled himself from Sonic, pulling himself to his feet. "Oi, Super, got any other games? We've been playing this one for two hours now."

"In the cabinet," Super said, startled at being addressed. "In, uh... in the next room."

"Tired of losing?" Sonic taunted.

"Go fuck yourself," Scourge said, sticking his middle finger up at Sonic as he left to root through the cabinet. Sonic stuck two fingers up in retaliation, even knowing he wouldn't be seen.

Then he was left alone with Super. Great. Exactly what he didn't want out of today.

Super eyed him warily, shifting further into his corner of the sofa like Sonic was the dangerous one who could attack at any moment, and Sonic almost snorted. The fucking irony.

Having Scourge sit between them was a conscious choice made for the sake of everyone. Scourge was the only one who didn't have a problem with either of them, while Sonic and Super had many, many problems with one another, although really, Sonic was far more justified in the amount of problems he had with Super. The guy had tried to murder his friends, for fucks sake. Had left Sonic with the burning wreckage of the Tornado and the belief he'd killed the people he cared about. In his opinion, Super didn't get to feel wary about Sonic after everything he'd done.

But, for whatever reason, he was. The mutual discomfort left them uneasy around one another, so they silently agreed to just avoid the shit out of each other for the rest of their lives - a decision that, apparently, no one could respect. Scourge was supposed to be the buffer between them, but apparently he couldn't take even one single job seriously. Super could've gotten a new game and left Sonic alone for two minutes with his boyfriend, but no, apparently that was too much to ask.

Still, as much as Super shrinking away annoyed him, Sonic didn't say anything, just turned away to stare out the window, although he kept one ear flicked in Super's direction just in case he tried anything. Tekno kept saying the suspicion was unnecessary, but what did she know? Better safe than sorry when it came to Super.

If Scourge or Ebony or whoever the fuck planned this was hoping getting them alone would get them to talk, they were sorely mistaken. Sonic didn't have anything to say to Super that wasn't antagonistic, and he didn't want to deal with the bitching he'd be subjected to if he provoked Super - damn the asshole and his overprotective mums - so it was better to just silently ignore him until Scourge came back.

Not that provoking him would be a good idea. The last thing he wanted was to set Super off and turn him homicidal again.

No, ignoring him really was the best way forward, and Super, thankfully, seemed to agree, because he didn't try to strike up any conversation of his own.

They just. Had. To wait. Fine. Sonic could do that. He could sit across from the demonic entity made entirely out of corrupted chaos energy, supposedly placid and a pacifist even though Sonic knew chaos energy didn't work that way.

Sonic was reluctantly beginning to believe Super really wasn't playing the long con - he'd never really had the patience for such things, always turning on anyone he teamed up with the second Sonic came into view, so gaining the self control to be alone with Sonic and not kill him in order to build trust and kill him at a later date was unlikely to say the least - but that didn't mean anything about Super's sudden attitude change made sense to him. He knew all too well how chaos energy worked; it was every bit as wild as its namesake, out of control and unable to be contained. Sonic never remembered any of the times he went super, but he could recall the moments before transformation uncomfortably well. The swelling of power, then energy lashing inside him, screeching for mindless destruction so loudly it was impossible to fight against-

Sonic's fists were clenched. With a deep, deliberate breath, he loosened them, forcing the tightness in his chest to unwind and the unpleasant emotions to back down through well-practiced force of will.

Chaos energy could not be placid. It could not be pacified. It was a feral beast, and it could be drained, and in small doses it wasn't harmful, but it couldn't be tamed. Sonic knew, he had tried. Tried so hard to hold it back, time and time again, to suppress it.

It didn't make sense that Super - a being made entirely of that destructive energy - could do what Sonic knew for a fact was impossible. Fighting chaos energy had to be impossible, otherwise Sonic would have figured out how to do it. Otherwise Kintobor would be-

An unpleasant emotion bubbled in his chest, and he shoved it down viciously. No point in dwelling on that.

It was a relief when Scourge came back, waving a game with a triumphant smile. "Zombies! Can't believe you let us play this shit, Super, when we could've been beating the shit out of zombies the whole time."

Super straightened a little, eyes sharpening, and Sonic tensed - but his eyes were only sharpening in interest, staring at the game in Scourge's hand and not Scourge himself. Not threatening, not waiting to attack.

It took conscious effort to relax.

"Just hurry up and put it in," Sonic said, folding his arms and slumping in his seat. See? The perfect picture of relaxed. He and Super existed in one another's presence without supervision and without ripping each other's throats out. He was great at this being civil thing, so Tekno and Amy and Scourge especially Ebony could shut the fuck up forever.

"Impatient," Scourge tutted, deliberately taking his time removing the cartridge from the case like the asshole he was.

Sonic threw a cushion at him, earning a startled giggle from Super.

"Fucks sake, fine," Scourge hissed, popping the cartridge into the console and returning to his rightful place by Sonic's side, firmly in between him and Super once again.

"Don't be a dick and I won't need to throw shit at you," Sonic said. He chanced a glance at Super, who was watching the TV, and slid his hand into Scourge's, giving it a squeeze.

If Scourge was surprised by the sudden affection, he didn't show it. Just squeezed Sonic's hand right back, and didn't let go until Sonic finally relaxed by his side and the title screen came up.

"Do any of us actually know how to play this game?" Scourge asked.

"I do," Super said, picking his controller back up. "I can teach you."

"Sweet."

Sonic's hackles raised at the idea of anyone, much less Super, teaching him anything, but he forced it down. Whatever. He could deal with it.

As they selected their characters and started the game, he leaned on Scourge. Just a little, barely a nudge, but Scourge barely leaned on him right back, and it was enough to settle his overactive nerves at least a little.

Playing video games with Super wasn't something he'd ever pictured himself doing, and it wasn't something he particularly wanted to be doing at that exact moment, either. If he had the choice, he'd rather go for a run far, far away from his maybe-not-evil double.

But as long as he was here, Scourge's presence helped, and Sonic couldn't help but be grateful for that.

The bastard still owed him so many races when they got home for helping to drag him into this, though.