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irrelevantwriter · 3 years

Text

No Questions, No Lies

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, angst, characters who refuse to say how they feel, asshole Rio (low key loves it)

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: Part 4. Riding a high, you decide to invite Rio over. But things don’t go as planned.

A/N: Once again, I am here, standing in front of you lovely people and saying thank you for all the love and support this series has gotten. It means the world. And then some. Onto the good shit...this part has lots of feelings, not all of them good. Angst is heavy towards the end, but first...smut. We love some toxic ass yearning, don't we? Also, we get some Rio POV in the first half. I’ve got two more parts planned so as always, stay tuned. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 5 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

*********************

He shifted in his seat, eyes glancing in the rearview mirror. He caught a glimpse of you as you handed off the bag of cash to Mick. Your gaze tried to find his through the blackened windows, searching for his presence in the front seat of the Mercedes SUV. It was no use. The tint was as dark as he could get it without drawing attention. Not that it mattered. The cops were always sniffing around...waiting for him to slip up. They were going to be waiting a long time.

He rubbed his chin as you rounded the vehicle and opened the passenger door. A cool breeze carrying the scent of your perfume swept in as you settled into the seat. He took you in slowly, gaze sweeping over your body as it often did when in your company. The sweater and jeans you wore were nondescript enough, but the hint of cleavage was obvious. And because you wanted to draw his attention, he gave you what you wanted and admired the area he’d been up close with only weeks before.

“Hi.” You greeted somewhat shyly, the gesture making him smirk. Even after the sex, you still got nervous around him. It had lessened tremendously since he’d first fucked you on your kitchen counter, but it wasn’t gone completely. And he had to admit that he liked that. Liked that he had such an effect on you.

“Sup, mama…” He replied, licking his lips as you averted your eyes from his.

It’d been three weeks since he’d shown up at your house in the early morning hours, announcing his return. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss being inside you. Now that he’d gotten a taste, it was difficult to manage without it. But you both had tedious schedules. He had several businesses. You had your kids. It didn’t always line up. And for three weeks it hadn’t. But seeing you now...he’d happily fuck you into the expensive leather of his seats if you’d let him.

“Everything good?” He prompted, noticing that you were fidgeting with your hands. You seemed worried, like something was weighing heavy on your mind. That wasn’t good.

“Yeah, yeah...of course.” You replied unconvincingly.

Rio leaned forward across the seat and placed a hand over both of yours, stilling the anxious movement of your fingers. Your eyes finally met his, a smile gracing your lips.

“What’s wrong?” He gruffly demanded, more out of concern for his operation than your personal feelings.

Your response surprised him.

“I need you to come over tonight.”

He took a long moment to silently take you and your words in. There was a softness in your features. It was unlike the expression of stress he’d seen you wear before. This wasn’t about business. This was personal.

“For what?” He asked, releasing your hand and sitting back to face you.

You bit your bottom lip and he watched as the appendage came away glossy and begging to be touched. His hand itched to reach out, but he stopped himself. Eager to see where you were taking this. Because he already had an idea.

“I...I need you.” You whispered, your gaze sliding to the deserted streets just beyond the windshield. You were hesitant. And that wasn’t going to work. He was going to have to teach you to take. In this world, there was no room for hesitation. You had to have the confidence to demand. If you didn’t, the weight of those around you who did would crush you.

Despite your timidness, his body hummed at your breathy confession. His blood pumped wildly in his veins while deep male satisfaction filled his chest. Inwardly, he was gloating. Outwardly, he was calm and nonchalant.

He shook his head and angled his ear towards you, as if signaling he couldn’t hear. “You gotta speak up.”

There was no humor in his tone. He wasn’t trying to tease you. He was acting as your instructor. Forcing you to be real about what you wanted.

He heard you scoff and as he turned to face you once again, he could see your hand reach out for the door handle. He stopped you with an outstretched arm, making sure to brush against your chest as he did.

“Just tell me what you want, darling.” He rasped, coercing your eyes to meet his.

You sighed, seemingly frustrated with yourself. He lifted his arm from across your body and instead let his fingertips trail down the side of your face. He watched from his peripheral as your chest expanded with a heavy breath, your breasts straining against the fabric of your sweater.

“You. I need you.” You repeated, the conviction clear in your voice this time.

He nodded, his thumb tracing the pout of your bottom lip. “That’s what I thought you said.”

Rio leaned in close, his mouth hovering dangerously over yours. You licked your lips in preparation for the action, the motion momentarily hypnotizing him. His eyes swept over your face, taking in every detail. His intense study made you shift in your seat. Maybe it was unease. He hoped it was arousal.

“I’ll be there.” He replied, pulling away and settling back into his own seat.

You blinked and nodded, still seemingly dazed by his proximity.

He hadn’t kissed you. And it was intentional. The constant push and pull of your relationship was maddening on most days. There was always an aspect of it that needed attention. Whether it was business or personal. It was always work. But times like these were what made it worth it. The teasing. The buildup. The attraction. It was so palpable he could practically taste it against his tongue. You were as frustrating as you were alluring and he was going to indulge in that combination until there was nothing left.

He wanted it all.

************

You smoothed out the fabric of your dress for the umpteenth time as you scrutinized your reflection. Nerves knotted in your stomach as you struggled to maintain some form of composure. Rio had texted you ten minutes before to say he was on his way. You didn’t know how much time that gave you, but it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be enough.

You’d regretted your desperate demand of him the instant you’d left his car earlier that day. The cool air had pulled you from the fog of your lust and threw you back into reality. And it wasn’t good. You’d made a fool of yourself. You were better than that. You could form full sentences and express thoughts. You were confident and fully capable of telling a man to come over so that you could sleep with him. Especially one you’d already slept with.

You tried to find the courage that had consumed you the last time you’d slept with him. You’d taken without asking and he’d happily reciprocated. It was the very definition of raw desire and you had every intention of recreating it tonight.

Which is why you were taking extra care to make sure your dress was perfect, along with your hair and makeup. Not that it truly mattered. He’d already seen you practically fresh out of bed in cotton panties.

A knock at the front door made you jump in surprise, the knots in your stomach now turning to butterflies. You took one last look at yourself before you made your way towards the entryway, your bare feet soundless along the cool hardwood floors.

You opened the door, seeing Rio on the other side. He looked good. He always looked good. Dark shirt, dark jeans. And that unwavering look of smugness he so often wore. He was expressive without having to do or say much. He was self-assured. Arrogant even. The calm intensity he possessed was almost a magical power, holding you captive. It had a dual effect on your body. You were afraid. But it paled in comparison to your insistent arousal.

“Hi,” You greeted, gesturing for him to come in.

He did so wordlessly, eyes taking in your form as he moved. He let you lead him through the house and towards the kitchen and you swore you could feel his gaze blazing across your back, leaving a mark. He was good at that. He was good at making you feel seen. The rush of having someone pay attention to you in the way that Rio did was utterly seductive. It was addictive. And you wanted it for as long as he was willing to give it to you.

“You want something to drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading towards the cabinet that housed the whiskey.

Rio’s voice stopped you.

“Nah, I’m good.”

You faltered and turned to see him leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused expression. Your insides heated with every silent second that passed between you. Looking at him made you remember why you’d asked him over. It wasn’t for a drink and it definitely wasn’t for small talk. Primal need began to swell within you as you stepped towards him. He was going to make you see your desperation through.

He straightened as you approached and invaded his space. You reached a hand out to trace the buttons of his shirt, gently tugging at the end of the fabric as you did.

“Come on,” You whispered, nodding your head in the direction of your bedroom. Any form of pretense was gone. You both knew why he was there...why he’d actually shown up.

You prayed he followed as you walked down the hall and into a space he had yet to be invited into. Until now. His footsteps echoed behind you, entering the bedroom and taking in his surroundings. You swallowed and turned to face him, pure want reflecting in his eyes. It urged you forward.

“Sit on the bed.” You commanded, voice surprisingly steady.

The corner of Rio’s lips edged upwards, but he did as you said. It appeared as if he was humoring you, expecting that you’d back out and end the night before it even began. But you were far past that. He’d made it clear, without words, that he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. He was going to make you work for everything. Whether that be his money or his affection. So you’d do it. You’d put in the work. And he’d reward you.

You reached for the zipper on the back of your dress, but it was too high. You stepped between his legs and faced away from him, motioning to the metal teeth that held the garment together.

“You mind?” You asked, waiting in anticipation. It was only a second later when you felt the brush of his finger against your back as he lowered the zipper. He made sure to drag his skin across yours, slowly and feather-light. It was almost non-existent, yet it pulled a shiver from you anyway.

You caught the loosened fabric before it fell, holding it to your chest. You turned and met his hooded gaze, noting the way his jaw was clenched. You let the dress fall to the floor, revealing the black lace you wore underneath. His eyes scanned your body like a predator stalking its prey, your nipples hardening in response. The sheer material of the bra barely concealed your body’s reaction. He took notice.

“That new?” He asked, chin jutting out and gesturing to the lace that adorned your body.

You stepped out of the dress and back between the space of his thighs, forcing him to look up at you. That familiar spicy scent filled your nostrils. It was his scent. And it lured you in further to his body’s warmth.

“If you want to think that highly of yourself.” You quipped with a coquettish smile, hands resting on his shoulders. His own hands remained on his thighs; not showing any indication that he was going to reach out and touch you.

His question had been spot on though. You had in fact went out and bought new lingerie. Several things in fact. And you might’ve bought them in black. A color that reminded you of only one person.

Rio chuckled lowly at your answer, licking his lips as you eased your breasts near his face. “You can’t let me have an inch, can you?” He challenged, an eyebrow raised in question as he looked up at you.

“If I give you an inch, you’ll take a mile.” You retorted, hands skimming along the back of his scalp. His fingers twitched against your legs at the motion, so you made sure to do it again.

Again he laughed. Humorless and patronizing.

“I can’t take what’s already mine.”

He said the words with so much confidence that you had to pause. You stilled your hands and for once stared right back into the depthless pools of his eyes. You predictably got lost in them, as you so often did with anything involving the man. His declarations of ownership should’ve scared you. They should’ve made you turn and run away. Instead, you went headlong into the storm.

“Pretty confident in yourself.” You replied, lowering yourself to your knees. He let his thighs fall open to make room for you, his expression showing just how pleased he was with your change in position.

“I’m not the one on my knees.” He threw back, hand finally reaching out to caress your cheek. His thumb swiped at your lips as his eyes zeroed in on them, no doubt picturing them wrapped around him.

“Touché.” You teased, kissing his thumb as it slid across your mouth.

You ran your hands up his thighs and towards his belt buckle. He let you, posture relaxing as he allowed you to do as you pleased. You shifted his pants and underwear out of the way as you pulled him free, your mouth already salivating at the sight. He was hardening with every second, veins and ridges calling to your womb like an old friend. You could feel him watching you as you leaned forward and placed a soft lick to the head of his cock. He tasted salty, but clean, and you wanted more.

You suckled at the tip of him while your hand worked the saliva around his length. He was long and pulsing with yearning in your palm. You let your mouth water around him, the sound of skin sliding against slickened skin now filling the room. The sound aided you in your efforts. You opened your throat to take him in, swallowing and savoring the low groan he expelled. It was music to your ears.

You listened to his reactions, catching every twitch of his cock along your tongue. You mercilessly teased him as you licked long strips along his flesh before you suctioned your cheeks and tightened around him. Your hands worked in tandem. Stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth while traveling down to caress his sac. He grunted and jerked with the action, causing him to slip further down your throat. Tears filled your eyes, but you kept going.

Moisture touched your tongue and you knew he was close. You chanced a glance up and was rewarded with a blissed out Rio. His head was angled back, his adam’s apple bobbing deliciously behind inked flesh as his hand made it to the back of your head. He didn’t push, but he didn’t have to. You happily gagged on his cock.

“That’s enough.” He commanded, voice low and tinged with barely contained control. He pushed your hands off of him and angled your chin up to him, his mouth descending on yours without a second thought.

You let him taste himself. Tongues intertwined in a show of eroticism that mimicked what your bodies longed to do. You steadied yourself on your knees as you grabbed at his shirt while his hands cradled your face. You wanted him to touch you...to explore your body in every way possible. It felt like your entire being was on fire and only he could soothe the ache. You needed him...badly.

“Touch me...please.” You pleaded once you’d broken apart.

He began to unbutton his shirt, discarding the piece of clothing easily as you waited. “Stand up.”

You did as he said, standing on shaky legs between his own. He reached out and smoothed his palms over your thighs and around to your ass, grasping the flesh and kneading. Your eyes closed in blessed relief, a moan just on the tip of your tongue. You jerked in his arms when you felt the wet heat of his mouth against your stomach, his lips trailing kisses along the flesh. Your hands held his head steady as he gave you what you craved. His fingers slid under the band of your panties, shifting the material up and down on your hips.

Impatience drove you to reach around and unclasp your bra, baring your breasts to his hungry kisses. He didn’t miss a beat. He mouthed at the underside of your breasts while his hands cupped them, massaging the sensitive mounds with skillful touches. Your panties felt too restrictive and uncomfortable. Wetness pooled in them as Rio’s touch urged more from you.

“The bed.” You gasped, feeling him pinch a nipple. The sensation made you shudder.

His presence disappeared from your body as he stood, pushing his jeans and underwear down. They fell to the floor as he stepped out of them, his shoes already off. You took him in for the first time. Took in the scarred flesh and lines of ink that ran along sinewy muscles. He was lean, but beautifully toned. All male.

You followed his lead and pushed the last scrap of clothing you wore down. The material fell easily to your feet and you kicked them away. You reveled in the way he looked at you. Untamed and feral. Like you were sin incarnate. It made your pussy clench in urgency.

Your palms glided up his firm chest as you reached forward to kiss him. He reciprocated, insistent hands guiding you to the bed. You let yourself fall to the mattress, his body following yours. Your mouths didn’t separate. You both savored the moment of finally being bare and pressed so closely to one another. You relished the flavors that sat on your tongues as you kissed, barely able to take in a breath. Hands roamed without barriers as he wedged himself between your thighs. You accommodated him, pushing your hips up to entice him inside you. A finger found its way there instead, dragging along your walls and collecting the moisture that had settled within.

“You ready?” He whispered into your ear, his finger now strumming at your swollen clit.

You nodded and moaned, hoping that was answer enough. Your back arched into his chest when he pressed the head of his cock at your entrance, lathering himself in you. Your nails dug into his back, your legs tightening around him. He showered you with tender kisses along your neck as his hips rutted against yours, not yet slipping into the place you both desperately needed him to be.

“Look at me.”

You obeyed, locking gazes with him as he hovered over you. The moment lasted only a second before he was pushing forward. He was fully sheathed and throbbing within you as you clung to him, mouth open but no sound coming out. His face was buried into your neck as you both became reacquainted with the other. You felt deliciously full. Overwhelmingly so as his cock nudged the natural barrier within you. He was as far as he could go, and yet you wanted him closer.

“Move.” You said with a whimper, shifting your hips so that his cock dragged along your velvet walls.

Rio obliged, a prisoner to the cyclone of sensations that had swept you both up. He set a steady pace, his strokes deep and thorough. You cried out when he thrust so hard that you edged up the bed, the headboard rattling against the wall. Beams of light glowed behind your eyelids as he hit every spot as if he was made to. You clung to the silver chain that hung from his neck as he grunted in your ear, each pass of him stealing your breath.

“This what you wanted? Hmm?” He punctuated his question with a bruising drive of his hips forward, making your toes curl.

“Fuck, yes…” You moaned, disoriented by it all. The feel of him atop you. The rhythm of his hot breaths against your neck. The growls that rumbled from his throat. The sting of being stretched as he fucked you. It was enough to have you succumbing to your climax before you were even ready.

You slipped a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit, increasing the intensity of your impending release. You locked your legs around his waist and scratched at the sheets as ecstasy washed over you. Your pussy contracted with earth-shattering tremors as you flooded Rio’s cock with your spendings. A litany of moans and gasps accompanied your free fall into space. The man above you stilled as you rode out the waves of orgasm and clenched around him in almost painful spasms. And then, your entire body went limp.

The headboard resumed its melody against the wall as Rio chased his own end. He maneuvered onto his knees, his cock never leaving the confines of your body. He watched you from this new vantage point, taking in the expression of euphoria you wore. Your hands trailed up your abdomen and across your breasts, cupping them for him. His hips picked up speed, his body slapping against yours and creating an echo. You accepted it all as he finally came, filling you full with every drive of his hips. He held you firm as he emptied himself within you, ensuring not a drop was wasted. You hummed at the feel of it, warm and thick and possessing you.

His fingers loosened their hold on your thighs as he came down, the flesh already sore from his grip. He soothed the area, the motion making your eyes feel heavy with sleep instead of lust. You met his gaze and let out a breathless laugh, feeling your limbs already beginning to ache with overuse. He slowly retreated from your body and settled beside you, his back pressed against the headboard as the comforter shielded his lower half from view. You eased into a sitting position, bringing the sheet with you. The act of modesty was unnecessary, but you did so anyway.

“You good?” He asked, face turning serious.

You nodded, the mess between your legs proof of just how good you really were.

“We gotta talk.”

His words made you stiffen. The post-coitus high now tainted.

“About what?” You asked, attempting casualness as you faced him.

“You’re gonna have a new contact from now on. Someone besides me.” He explained. His tone was succinct and to the point. He wasn’t interested in making this a discussion. And that annoyed you. Because it deserved one, whether he thought so or not.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I’m moving on to something else. Something different. So now you gotta deal with someone else.”

You shook your head, desperately wishing you now had clothes on. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. It’s how it has to be.” He stated cooly, features schooled into an expression of professionalism, despite his own state of undress.

“Why?” You asked, still struggling to comprehend what he meant. Because it sounded like he was pawning you off to someone else right after he’d fucked you.

“I’m flipping my game. Nothing can be permanent. You get caught if you get comfortable.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No. You don’t.” He retorted dryly. The quickness of his reply threw you, the coldness in it obvious.

“I don’t trust anyone else.” You said, standing up and wrapping yourself in the sheet. Your thoughts were running wild, the disbelief you felt clearly written all over your face.

“I trust him. He’ll handle shit.” Rio reassured you, though it didn’t translate. He sighed and stood from the bed, searching for his underwear and pants.

Anger flared inside of you as he got dressed. He was going to drop a bomb on you and then leave? The notion made blind fury replace the satiation of sex within you.

“I barely trust you.” You threw back, watching as he buttoned his shirt. He shook his head and laughed, apparently finding your statement funny. “Why are you doing this?” You asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice but failing.

He moved towards you and cradled your cheek, a gesture you were starting to loathe. He didn’t have to say anything to be condescending. The intent was clear. That familiar pit formed in your stomach as he stared at you, licking his lips.

“It’s business. This isn't personal. Don’t make it that way, yeah?”

You twisted away from his touch, gritting your teeth in irritation. “So you coming over to fuck me when you want is business?” You challenged, wrapping the sheet tighter around your chest.

“I gave you a choice.” He replied, voice raising slightly. His face hardened, his eyes narrowing and spine straightening as you fought against him.

“And what choice was that? To fuck you or die?” You questioned hotly, seeing him take a step towards you.

“You don’t make the rules. This isn’t a fucking partnership, darling. You work for me. You listen to me.” He argued, matching your aggression.

An iota of fear crept up your spine, but you ignored it. You shook your head and turned to leave, but he caught you, holding your arm with a firm grip. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

“Don’t. Do. That.” He warned, pulling you to face him once again. He was pissed. His temper barely under control as he pinned you with an icy glare.

“Fine....” You acquiesced, jerking your arm free. “Leave me in the able hands of someone else. I’ll make sure and show them the same kind of attention I showed you.” You goaded, seeing the vein in his neck pulse.

“Why do you gotta make shit difficult?” He asked, choosing to ignore your remarks. Rio didn’t wear jealousy well and it was obvious.

“You were the one that came to me, remember? You were the one that spouted that bullshit about trust.” You threw back, uncaring of the consequences.

“That's right.” He confirmed, stepping in your direction and crowding your space. You were both practically breathing the same tension-filled air. “And you went along with it. So go along with this. If not, arrangements can be made.”

You blinked, willing the man before you to disappear. You shouldn’t be surprised that things took such a left turn. They were bound to. And Rio was nothing if not an entrepreneur first. You knew that. Didn’t mean it stung any less.

“Leave.” You demanded, not meeting his gaze.

“I’ll be in touch.” He said before he was walking past you and out of the room.

The slamming of the front door echoed throughout the house when he left and you released the breath you’d been holding. Tears welled in your eyes, but you forced them back. The relationship between you and Rio was doomed from the beginning. You were both operating on borrowed time. No matter how much he acted as if he cared, he didn’t. You were a means to an end. That was blatantly apparent now. You were to fall in line and operate under his orders. That was it. But you couldn’t do that. Not when your entire life was at stake. You’d made the mistake of trusting him and he decided to throw it all away. All the progress made...for naught.

Rio would always want his money more than you. It made no difference if you finally offered yourself up on a silver platter, promising to run off with him. He’d surely laugh and pat your cheek, amused by your offer. He’d only been telling you what you wanted to hear. And wasn’t that what you wanted anyway? Wasn’t he just enough for a good time and an even better fuck?

Yeah. He was.

So then why did it hurt so goddamn much?

#rio #rio good girls #good girls rio #rio x you #rio x reader #rio imagine #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic #good girls nbc #nbc good girls

944 notes · View notes

rudystopit · 3 years

Note

OKAY!!! HUSBAND IIDA FUCKING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU AKA BREEDING YOU CAUSE HE WANTS IT ALL WITH YOU!!!!

i don’t know what demon came from hell and possessed me when writing this but it’s darker than my other stuff. this is more angst than smut i guess. i think i’m going to write another one for iida with a breeding kink that more lighter.

warnings: sexual abuse, nsfw, choking, slight breeding kink, eating out,

wc: 4k

every Saturday, you and your husband iida go to the farmers market to shop for food or other things. you two walk side by side with hands locked together. you pull him around and he smiles at your huge grin. you swing your arms as you walk to the little market.

it was warmer that day so you wore a cute sundress while he wore a polo and shorts. he watched the skirt of the dress flow around your beautiful body. he just watches you look around for the best veggies and ripe fruit.

you’ll catch him staring and you’ll ask him a question which he won’t respond to. you lightly punch him and he’ll snap out of his daze. he smiles and apologizes. you tell him to go over to the bake goods and pick out a dessert for the two of you while you drag some summer squash and peppers.

he pouts as he goes a looks at the cookies and cupcakes. he waits for the old women to finish talking with another customer. he points to the two he would like, pays and turns back to you.

the guy sitting on the back of the truck was flirting with you. you smiled and laughed at his jokes. he shyly smiles at you. he cracks a joke and you touch his shoulder.

iida storms up to you and snakes his hand around your waist. he pulls you closer. he glares at the man. you turn to iida.

“hey honey, did you know i used to go to school with him?” you laugh and turn back to the guy. you pay for the veggies as iida quickly pulls you away from the man.

“ooh let’s get the apple cider doughnuts! they smell amazing!” you close your eyes and inhale. the sweet smell of warm dough, apple and cinnamon swirled around you. “please tenya!!” you grab his arm and hug it. he looks down at you.

“yes of course,” he smiles down at you. you two stand in line and talk about what else you need to get and which buildings you still needed to look in. “i think we should have curry for dinner, hun,” he tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

“ok! i think we have everything for that! do you want to get some extra potatoes? wait! what did you get?!” you look down at the bag.

“chocolate chip,” you glare at him. “what? you like chocolate chip?”

“i can make those at home! you’re supposed to get something new here.... but they do look pretty good,” you mouth watered.

the line moves and you two ordered your doughnuts and apple cider. iida’s phone rings and he steps away. the doughnut guy started making small talk with you.

“beautiful day isn’t?” he asks.

“yes! it’s so nice to finally get out!” you smile. “have a lot of people come here?”

“oh yeah. they’re pretty popular around this time! i swear one guy ordered like 15 this morning,” he laughs and turns to pour the ciders. he turned and handed them to you. “boyfriend?”

“husband,” you smile and grab the drinks.

“you look so young!” he compliments you. you blush and turn around to see iida scowling at the man. you hand him the cider with a sweet smile.

“thank you,” he takes the cup and brings it to his lips.

“be careful! it’s a new pot!” the guy yells.

too late, iida had burn his mouth. he took the cup down away from his face and stood there stoic. the guy handed the bag of doughnuts to you. you link your arm with iida’s and started to the venters.

“you want to cry. don’t you?” you laughed.

“that’s so hot. it’s like lava. why is it so hot??” he looks at you. you laugh at your husband. you two walk to a stand full of movies. you take a few bites of your doughnut. you melt into the warm apple taste. iida picks up a movie and shows you.

The Mask, “hmm never seen it,” you say and look down at the movies. he shuffles around and picks up another. fatal attraction. “sounds scary,” you say. he moves behind you at the other table. you hear him pick up another. fear. “is this you telling me you want to watch a horror movie when we get home?” you ask. he chuckles and tosses the movie back on the table.

you walk away from the booth and to a table full of rings. he hugs your shoulders and puts i his head on yours. you pick up a cute little ring and hold it up to his face. “cute” his chin digs into your head. you put the ring back and head to the car. iida laces his fingers with yours as you two walk.

he stops and looks at some fruit which causes you to get jerked back. you look at him and then at the fruit. “we should get some,” he says. he pulls you closer and you hug him. he looks over some apples and strawberries. something catches your eye. you release your husband and walk over to a booth full of boxes. you look through them, you bend down to get a closer look at the small trinkets.

iida turn to look for you. he see you bend over and some guys looking at the view. he drops the fruit and rushes to you. he grabs your wrist and drags you to the car. he glares at the guys. he rushed to the car, his grip not loosening.

“tenya!” you try to pry his hand off your wrist. “what is your problem!?” you yell. he walks you to the door and opens it. he lets go of your wrist and lets you get it. he slams the door and makes his way to his side.

he quietly gets in and puts his seatbelt on. his hand grip onto the wheel. he just stares forward.

“what was that about?” you yell.

“keep your voice down!” he turns to you. his expression only coming off as angry and demanding.

you turn to the window and put you seatbelt on. you just watch the scenery. once he had driven out of the busy parking lot, his hand comes to rest on your thigh. his thumb rubs circles into the fabric of the dress. you tilt your leg away from him. he moved his hand back to the wheel and drove silently the whole way home.

he pulls into the driveway with a scowl. he parks the car. your hand reaches for the handle. he quickly locks it. you glare at him. his hand reaches for your hand and you pull away.

“y/n!” he yells.

“no tenya! what was that whole... whole.. tantrum you pulled at the market!” you yell waving your arms around.

“you kept flirting with guys!” he yells. you fell silent. he looks at you. “you were flirting with the vegetable guy, the apple cider guy and you purposely bend over so those guy to watch,” he says.

“you’ve got to be kidding me, tenya,” you whisper. you fingers rub your temples. “you’ve got be actually joking right now,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “tenya,” he looks at you. “what is this?” you hold out your left hand.

“your wedding ring,” he answers.

“what does it mean, tenya?” you look up at him.

“that you’re married,” he answers.

“now, who am i married too, tenya?” he looks at your question confused.

“me?” he shyly answers.

“so why would i flirt with guys i barely know?” you pause. “hell why would i flirt at all?” you yell.

“i don’t like your tone!” he yells.

“unlock the door,” you whisper.

“no,” he huffs.

“open the fucking door, tenya iida. or i swear to god i’ll break it open myself,” you slowly say.

“not if you talk to me like that,” he crosses his arms. you look at him dead in the eye. you press the unlock button on your side of the car and he quickly grabs your arm. you push him off and make your way inside. he slams his door and chases after you. “y/n!” he yells.

you unlock the main door and slip off your shoes. you walk to the kitchen and unload the bags. you hear the door open then slam then heavy footsteps to the kitchen. you ignore him as you put away the vegetables and other goods.

“y/n,” he whispers. you stand up and look at him.

“yes, tenya,” you sneer. he pleading face drops to pure anger. he walks closer to you. you back up till your back is flush against the fridge. he hand comes up and creases your face. you inhale and try not to move away. he quickly turns away and slams his fist into the counter. you exhale the breath you were holding.

with a blink of an eye, his hand was around your throat. his eyes look like they were deciding either they wanted to kill you or fuck you till you couldn’t think. your eyes, glossed with tears, held a pleading look of desperation. you loved tenya but sometimes he would get so jealous, he would stop thinking and end up hurting you in frustration. you thought you could let it slide but it’s been 5 years and it’s only getting worse.

“i... i want a divorce,” you struggle to say while tears flow over the sides of your cheeks. his eyes turned to pure unfiltered rage. his hand fell to yours and with that he dragged you to the bedroom. you dug your heels into the floor. he turns and grabs your upper arm. you try to run the other way. his hand slips and you fall to the floor. you try to scurry away but you feel his large hand grab you hip. you’re lifted off the ground and swung over his shoulder. you kicked and screamed for him to up you down. you pleaded that you were sorry and that you don’t want a divorce.

he throws you onto the bed. you curled up hoping he wasn’t going to hurt you. he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. tears streamed down your face as your husband looks down at you with eyes full of anger and disgust. he feels you tremble underneath his touch. he scoffs and pushes you back onto the bed. you start sobbing while holding your head.

he wasn’t always like this. you guys head fallen in love in high school and dated all through college. he proposed a few months after graduating. you guys were young and in love. but after the honeymoon and he went to work, he started coming home stressed and angry. he would take it out on you. it started off as snapping at you or getting frustrated at small things. it didn’t escalated till his father died. after the funeral he was so disoriented and frankly drunk, that he slapped you around. you figured it was grief and stress. you let it slide, hoping it was a one time incident.

one day after he got home, he went to shower with you. you weren’t feeling well and weren’t in the mood for sex. you kept pushing him off you. he grabbed you by the hair and forces you to suck him off. you cried silently while his dick destroyed your throat. you didn’t stop crying till he had left for work the next morning.

you put up this facade of a loving couple in public. people think you two are perfect for each other and that you guys are what true love is suppose to look like. you did love him. that’s why you wanted to stay with him.

at first you blamed yourself. you rationalize that you started it. you gave him attitude and this is how he’s reacting to put you back in your place. you were the one starting the fights and this how any rational person would react. ‘he’s fixing me’ you would repeat over and over in your head as he would pound you into the bed.

he grabs your arms and pins you to the bed. he switches his grip as one hand moves to slide up your dress.

“tenya,” you whisper. his hand moves your panties to the slide.

“tenya,” you say. his fingers push their way through you. he licks his lips as his fingers trace over everything inch of you.

“tenya,” you yell as tears made rivers out of your cheeks. his grip on your wrist became unbearable. his fingers twist inside of you.

he doesn’t answer. his heavy breath hitting your face. you close your eyes as he starts thrusting his fingers. it hurt, the speed, the force, everything hurt. you let the tear speak volumes for you. he didn’t care. he sees you as his little wife. the love of his life. his first love.

his thumb moves to rub harsh circles into your clit. the pleasure in the pain. the worst part about all of this. you can’t control how you body reacts to him. his fingers move at lightening speed in and out of you. you feel your core tighten as he grazes over your sensitive spot. the knot forming against your will. you know in a few seconds it will come undone and he’ll be satisfied.

you open you mouth as the wave of ecstasy cashes into you. just like the drug, after the high, only the original feels remain. he continued thrusting his fingers into you. your legs trembled. a whole in your chest expands and your eyes shed the last tears.

he removes his finger from you. you roll onto your side as he moves around the room. you figured he was going to change to go run. he usually ran after to clear his head, then he would come back and apologize.

you close your eyes and try to sleep. you hear him get undressed and you hear the dresser open then close. you try to steady your breathing as he walks by you. you bite your lip to not make a noise.

you feel the bed dip. ‘he probably putting on his shoes’ you think. ‘he’ll leave and i can be alone.’ then his large hands grip onto your hips. you scream and try to turn onto your back to kick him off. but he holds on.

“stop fighting y/n!” he yells. you stop. you’re paralyzed in fear. he lift your hips to his. you feel him drag his tip through your folds. you close your eyes as he pushes his way through. you bite your lip to not scream. his size stretches you out. you grip onto the sheets. he bottoms out and instantly start thrusting. you clench your jaw to not scream in pain. even though he’s going slow, the pressure is unbearable. you’re still sensitive from before and he just is huge.

you knuckles are turning white as he slides out then slams back in. his hand caressing your ass. his hand travels down to your lower back. he holds it there as he slowly exits and snaps back in. his fingertips dig into your hip. you let your body go limp. you give him the control. he snaps back in. he hear him grunt softly each time.

you release the sheets as the pain fades away. the time before he snaps back in shortens. each time he ruts back in you flinch. he feels you clench around him. he smiles and quickens his thrusts. his hand starts roaming again. he massages the flesh of your ass. he lick his lips as he stares down at your body.

he loved you. he doesn’t know how to show it. correctly. he has been in love with you since freshmen year. when he saw you walk into the classroom with your friends. he can still remember the day he asked you out. may 7th. the flowers were blooming and his heart was beating so fast, he thought it might explode. he couldn’t believe it when you said yes. he felt like he was dreaming.

he feels like every time he’s with you. dreaming, peaceful, home. which is what clouds his judgement. he can’t control his burst of anger from work. he has to keep it cool there or else he’s fired. but at home, he feels safe but he’s so frustrated that anything sets him off. he knows it. but he isn’t willing to change.

tenya continues to drill into you. your body feels like it’s on fire. his hands burning you with every touch. you lay there, numb. your fingers play with the sheets, trying to ignore everything. you look up at the photo on your nightstand.

you in your beautiful wedding dress. your hair falling in stunning ringlets. the biggest smile you’ve ever had. and tenya. he stands next you with his arm around your waist. he’s lean into you. his eyes shut from laughing and cake on the side of his face. you had taken the first slice and smashed it into his glowing face. his smile was one you’d always remember.

a tear slides down your cheek. who was the man above you?

“god y/n, you make me feel so good!” he moans out. another tear falls to the bed. the man above you was supposed to be the one.

‘he’s fixing me’ you think. you think about your first date. he took you to a cute park and he had made sandwiches. you two had laughed the whole time and you felt sad when it was over.

“fuck y/n, i can’t wait to fill you with kids,” he moans out again. a tear add to the pool. the man above you wasn’t the sweet high school, who was too shy to even look at you.

‘he’s fixing me’ you repeat. you think about buying your first place together. a cute little apartment, close to the college. he put on some old love songs and grab your hands. you two dance in the empty apartment for hours. you had wished that every night there was like that one.

“damn i’m almost there!” he grunts. thur the tears you try to think about the wedding. how handsome he look. how nervous he was. his face stayed pink the whole week after it.

his thrusts become harder. you squeeze your eyes shut. they burned with salty tears. his nails digging into your sore skin.

‘he’s fixing me’ you repeat again. you’re reminded yourself about your first fight. he came home late and he had forgotten to pick up something from the store. you were tired and moody so you snapped and told him that he was never reliable. he yelled back that it wasn’t his fault. it wasn’t but you hated him yelling at you. you two had a screaming match till he got into the car and disappeared for the night.

you stayed up waiting from him to come home. it wasn’t till 10am the next day when he came back home stumbling and smelling of liquor. you hugged him tightly and started crying. he told you he was fine and that he was sorry. he wiped away your tears and kisses your forehead. he joke about being starving. you cooked him breakfast and went to bed together.

“you’re all mine,” he moans as he comes in you. the man above spoke the truth but it stabs you like a knife. how can he love you while he hurts you?

you lay there motionless. your eyes are flat and red with tears. ‘am i fixed?’ you ask yourself. ‘thank you for fixing me’ you close your eyes and fall onto your side. tears continuing to create oceans. you feel him lay next to you with his arm draped around you. he squeezes you closer to his chest. his breath on your back made you shiver.

you look at the picture again. you curse at it mentally and closed your eyes.

you dreamed that you were floating in the ocean. you’re eyes are closed and the salty water pricked at your wounds. there’s no land in sight. you’re breathing is slowly and almost relaxing. you swing your arms around on the surface of the water. you open your eyes to see birds flying in circles above you. you hold your breath and let yourself sink into the blue abyss.

you felt like nothing. absolute weightlessness. all your emotions, pains, bagage floats away in the soft current. you let yourself fall deeper and deeper into the salty ocean.

a force grabs you by the stomach and pulls you down. you open your mouth the scream but your lungs fill with the unforgiving water. the once beautiful light blue sky started to feel like a distance memory as you pulled deeper into the darkness.

you jerk wake. you sit up and bring your knees to your chest. you hear the shower running. you check the clock on tenya’s side of the bed. 9:30. you try to hug yourself tighter. you started to notice all the bruises. they littered your body. your wrist were a greenish yellow. your upper arm was purple, you bet your hips had small purple dots and you look at the mirror across the room. a faint handprint wraps around your neck.

your bit your cheek to try not to cry as you get up. you swing your legs off the bed and stare at the floor. you bit harder on your cheek as you force yourself to get up. you feet hit the cold floor. you push off the bed and stand. your legs feel wobbly. you room feels like it’s spinning. you grip onto the end table, knocking off the picture. the picture that will haunt you forever.

you slowly stumble to the kitchen. “water,” you could barely say. you made it to the bright kitchen. you squint and walk to the sink. you grab a glass and fill it.

your hands shake as you bring it to you lips. the cold water flowed down your arching throat. you closed your eyes and finished the glass. you quickly filled another. you water to the cabinet and pulled out the bottle of Tylenol. you untwist the cap with shaky fingers. you shake up a couple and pop them into your mouth. then the cold water. you finished it in one go.

you slam the cup down as you look up at the ceiling. you hear a door shut and soft footstep coming to you. you felt his hand snake around your hips. he wraps his arms around you. he pulls you close to his chest. his head snuggles into your neck. you squeeze your eyes closed as you bit your lip. you held back you tears as he kisses your shoulder and neck.

“good morning, beautiful,” he says in a low tone. he moves away from you and opens the fridge. “eggs?” he asks searching the fridge.

“hmm? yeah sure?” you say walking away from him. you walk into the bathroom. you shut the door quietly. you lean against the door. you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you move to the sink and stare at the clean white sink. you turn on the water and cup your hands. you watch the cold liquid spill out over the edge. you bring your face to your hands and rub in the cold water. you turn the sink off.

you breath and look up at yourself. you stare at a tired, beating, puffy eye version of yourself. “fuck you,” you whisper. you go to turn on the shower and the handle was warm due do tenya’s. you twist the handles and sat on the toilet. you lean forward on your knees as you bring your hands to your face. flashback of the night before flash in your mind. you felt his hands on you again. you see the photo and his eyes. those eyes filled with a fury so red hot, it burns deep into your memory. you push your hair back as you take a deep breath. you stare at the wall for a few seconds before standing again.

you slip off the disgusting sundress. you pull off your panties. you instantly threw them away. you wanted nothing to remind you of that painful night. you step into the shower. the warm ran down your sore body. you wrap your arms around yourself as you stand there, staring at the tiles.

you here the door creek open. tenya’s head peers in. “you want any eggs?” he asks.

“um. no i’m good,” you answer, not really listen to what he says. “thanks,” you to finish. you close your eyes and listen to the door close shut and his footsteps fade away in to kitchen.

you sink to the floor. the water running down your back. you close your eyes as you listen to the water.

332 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Hold it (JJK x Reader) 👽💜☁️🔞

💚 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💚 Genre: Alien AU!, friends to lovers, fluff, angst (!), smut

💚 Warnings: (oh boy) soft boi kook, sex talk, angst, miscommunication, small argument, mentions of an animal attack, mentions of blood and a bite wound, aggressive Kookie, you all finally get your nasty time, soft sex, soft!dom Kookster, size kink, strength kink, marking, biting, bruising, manhandling, mentions of attempted masturbation, big dick kook, kook basically has an alien dick what y’all want from me, you wanted this don’t ever forget that, knotting(in a sense, like his dick inflates when he cums lol), lots of cum, transluscent tentacle action, squirting, soft confession, unprotected sex because they can’t reproduce, this is an alien Au pls use condoms in real life thank you, mildly possessive kook, aftercare, messy sex

💚 Summary: The world is literally ending. In a last effort to save earth, the race of Alcor demands humanities planet to be given into their care, as humans have been slowly killing the planet for way too long. But it’s humanity we’re talking about; they never give up without a fight. Even if they should.

Part of the Alien!JK series!

Catch it | Hold it | Keep it | Save it | ???

Jungkook's and your relationship slowly became.. more and more intimate you could say.

He'd openly talked about his romantic interest in you several times before, and you've grown quite fond of him as well over the course of time. You've learned that Alcorians had no understanding of sarcasm whatsoever, and typically spoke quite bluntly and openly about what they thought. It was seen as charming if you were able to speak without holding back anything, and it was something your shy self had to get used to first. Jungkook however had studied quite a lot about humans however, so by now, he was a self-proclaimed expert in human behavior. You had to admit though, he did do his homework.

Whenever Namjoon was over to check up on you, (something he had to, since it was a rule made by the alcorian government to check up on humans every month to make sure they're treated well) Jungkook proudly explained to him what he'd learned about your kind, almost like a kid showing a new drawing. He even went out to find cookbooks that described human desserts and treats just to learn how to make some of your favorite thing. It was endearing, really.

You also found out more layers of his personality.

He was incredibly sensitive to smells and fabrics, all of his blankets having a specific soft but not too soft feeling to them. He liked sweet and gentle smells, and always told you that your 'main smell' as he called it, was absolutely his favorite. Alcorians had heightened senses Namjoon had explained to you, which was why Jungkook easily picked up on things that you stayed oblivious to.

He loved if you wore his jackets or sweaters, and he most recently bought you a delicate locket bracelet with his information on it. It was beautifully made and looked great- but you still wore the collar he'd give you most of the time. When he'd asked you once you had explained to him that it was a comfort thing for you- other alcorians could easily spot that you were claimed, and wouldn't look at you funny. He'd smiled at that, and had also made sure to hug you a lot that night.

It took him a while to grow confident enough in his own ability to restrain himself during the night to let you sleep in the same bed as him. He'd been absolutely scared shitless that he'd roll you over in his sleep, but you'd assured him that he didn't move that much, so it would be fine. What he was still completely terrified of, it seemed like, was intimacy.

Now, you both had been getting as far as kissing. He loved the gesture, and loved to kiss you randomly during the day- that wasn't the issue. But whenever you tried to get him to do something more- he found some reason to simply book it before he could let himself be swept away.

And you were growing frustrated.

It wasn't that you couldn't wait for it, or that you were desperate- you could definitely give him time, if he'd finally tell you clearly if he even wanted that with you. If you thought about it, you didn't even know if Alcorians had sex like humans. Maybe they didn't do it like that, maybe they had some odd form of ritual or whatever- you had no idea, and you refused to talk to namjoon about it of all people. You knew that he would probably explain it to you, in quite detail since alcorians were like that, but you somehow wanted Jungkook to explain it to you instead. Yeah, maybe you should ask him about it- or maybe you could be difficult.

So as you laid on the bed that was way too big for you, you simply let your mind wander, having a bit of time for yourself. And as any sex-deprived human being, you decided to let your fantasies take over your mind, uncaring about Jungkook- since he'd been out for a bit, meeting up with a friend he'd said.

You wondered what he'd look like. In a lot of ways, alcorians were very similar to humans- but you somehow had a feeling that there had to be something different about their anatomy if you couldn't reproduce like Namjoon had once mentioned. Judging from his accidental boner a few days ago, you had quite the suspicion that he was.. well packaged, to say the least. He'd been a bit embarrassed about it when you'd shyly pointed it out, and ever since then, he'd made sure to get up earlier than you to avoid you seeing his morning wood, something that you'd told him was completely normal, and not at all something to be ashamed of. He seemed a bit nervous every time you brought that topic up, however, which did make you wonder.

Maybe he just wasn't into you like that? Or maybe he was a rough person in bed. The thought of that made your spine shudder, a spark igniting inside you as your mind came up with images of his hands holding your wrists above your head, those sweet lips of his tracing your skin and leaving prints of invisible fire behind. Your hand slowly wandered lower, fingers pushing against your clothed core as you practically heard him purr into your ear how good you were being for him. Was he possessive? Was he dominant? Or was he gentle and sweet? You couldn't know.

"Y/N I-" He suddenly stood in the door, making you yelp as you quickly pulled the covers over you. A useless action really, since you didn't even get to undress yourself- thankfully. If he would've arrived any later, it would've been so much more awkward. "Are you okay?" He asked, genuine and almost innocent concern in his voice as he looked at you.

This was so fucking awkward.

You could practically feel your cheeks heat up as the embarrassment hit you, realization that you almost masturbated in his bed of all places taking over your mind as you tried to come up with something to talk yourself out of it. "Yeah, yeah! Nothing wrong just eh.. tired." You said, not meeting his gaze as his brows furrowed, now fully taking you in.

You were shy about something, that much he knew. He'd studied your body language by now to a point were he knew that you were okay, but uncomfortable. Your cheeks were tinted a flushed pink, eyes not meeting his as you squeezed the sheets in your hands, legs underneath the covers moving restlessly. His eyes widened as he finally took in every aspect of the situation. Your breath was still a bit quicker than usual, the shyness, and the smell that hung in the air.

"Were you.. pleasuring yourself?" He asked, pupils dilated now that he had connected the dots. You'd been touching yourself in his bedroom, on his bed, while he hadn't been there. Why would you do that? Did you not want him like that? Did he make you uncomfortable?

"I uh.. Oh god this is so awkward." You said, dropping your face into your hands as Jungkook stepped closer, before sitting on the bed, across from you.

"Namjoon had explained to me that humans do that to feel good." He said, gaze never wavering from you as he continued. "But he also said that you only do that when you don't have a partner." He continued, now leaning forwards a bit, voice a bit whiny as he seemed confused. "You have me though? Why would you do that alone if you have me?" He asked, and you just wanted to disappear as you bit your lip, trying to explain it to him without making it sound awkward.

"Jungkook we.. we do that to mainly feel close to, you know, romantic partners." You explained, making his brows furrow even further. "Humans don't, you know, always need to go the full way." You said, as he intently listened. "Touching each other is also a way to feel close." You said, and he suddenly seemed hurt.

"So you don't see me as a romantic partner, is that it?" He said, and you could've sworn, if he had dog ears they would hang low right now with the look he has on his face. "You don't like me enough." He finalized, as you shook your head frantically.

"No Jungkook, I do like you, more than anybody just-" You tried, as his eyes got a bit more hopeful. "Its just hard to explain-" You started, as he cut you off.

"Teach me then. Show me." He said. "I want to know the human way." He almost pleaded, as you sighed.

"Jungkook, its not like I don't want to teach you.." You started, as you looked down. "We humans get uhm.. attached really quickly if we do that with a person. It's like giving away a part of yourself, you know?" You said, and he suddenly grew gentle, now fully realizing what you were on about.

"I-" He began, as he suddenly almost looked shy. "We couldn't do that anyways." He confessed, as you looked at him in question. "I'd hurt you. Thats why I want to, you know, touch you." He explained to you, a finger hesitantly running over the skin on the back of your hand. "I want to be as close to you as I can without having to worry about hurting you.." He murmured, as you took his hand in yours.

"You'd never hurt me Jungkook. I trust you-" You began, but he suddenly shook his head, serious expression on his face as he avoided your gaze.

"No." He said, slowly getting up. "Let's forget this conversation happened, okay?" He said, and you watched helplessly as he left the room. "I'll uhm.. go start dinner." He threw your way before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Things were tense between you and jungkook these days.

So tense in fact, that Namjoon noticed it.

"So, I'd say you're quite healthy. Jungkook takes really good care of you I see." He said with a gentle smile, making you reciprocate it in good manner. "However, I kind of have to address the elephant in the room here, as humans would say." He said, and Jungkook furrowed his brows.

"Who or what is an elephant?" He asked, and you giggled at that.

"Doesn't matter. What does however is, that I sense something wrong between you two." Namjoon said, as Jungkook suddenly got very defensive. In all honesty, it shocked you a bit, since you've never seen him like that before.

"That doesn't concern you at all Namjoon." He said, as the elder one suddenly shook his head.

"It does if it affects Y/N's mental health, which it could, in the long run." He stated, making Jungkooks eyes widen.

"Namjoon- I'm fine-" You tried, a hand reaching out for his shoulder as Jungkook dashed forwards, prohibiting you from touching him as he held your hand, a bit too tightly as you whinced, making him snap out of whatever daze he seemed to be in. He however, seemed surprised as well at his outburst.

"That's what I mean." Namjoon said, putting his equipment away. "Have you two had intercourse yet?" He bluntly asked, and you looked at him scandalized, as if he'd just told you your mom was fat. Jungkooks pupils contracted again at that, ready to bark back an angry comment, as Namjoon pushed against the youngers chest. "I assume you didn't, judging by that reaction." He commented, making you want to hide. Why were alcorians so.. blunt. "Jungkook, you either have to find yourself a partner, or I'll have to take her out of your care soon." He stated, and you almost gasped as Jungkook suddenly grew tense as well.

"W-why, you just said I take good care of her-!" He argued, making Namjoon nod.

"You do, but at the same time-" He said, gaze pointing at your now red wrist hidden with your other hand. "-but you're also a danger to her as long as you are as frustrated as you are now." He explained, making jungkook grow serious. "I can't help you with that decision. However, please keep in mind that you're not the only ones that have this form of romantic involvement. What keeps you from involving yourself Jungkook?" He asked the younger, who didn't dare look at you in that moment.

"I'll hurt her Namjoon-" He said, frustrated. "And I honestly really don't want to talk about my sexual involvement with her, thank you very much." He grumbled out between gritted teeth, eyes holding an almost aggressive stare as he looked at the elder one.

"You mean your lack thereof." Namjoon dared to say with a raised eyebrow, as Jungkook suddenly jumped up, grabbing the older one's bag and walking towards the door as he opened it with force, face clearly showing that he'd just crossed a line for him.

"I mean that it's time for you to go, Namjoon." He pressed out, as Namjoon sighed, getting up to walk out, getting no time to say goodbye.

It was probably better that way anyways.

Things did not get better after this.

Just like Namjoon had worried about, Jungkook slowly became more and more jumpy around you, leaving you alone more and more, as if he needed to distance himself from you. Did he finally grow tired of you? Did he really suffer? Maybe you should just leave him alone for a bit you decided, walking out of the apartment and down the busy streets of the town, aimlessly walking around as you watched other alcorians go after their day. You saw couples, alcorian and mixed, walking hand in hand or simply side by side, an elderly pair watching some young kids running around with a balloon like toy, and a group of friends it seemed, happily chatting away. You spotted some streetfood, sighing internally at forgetting your tiny wallet Jungkook had given you, always containing a bit of money so you could buy yourself a snack whenever you went out. You watched as some uniformed teenagers ran towards the train station- or something that looked quite similar. It worked a bit differently, but Jungkook had once explained that alcorians had been monitoring human inventions for centuries now, taking a lot of inspiration from them.

It all felt a bit sad to you now.

Maybe you were finally growing homesick after your months of living here, or maybe it was the added fuel of Jungkooks slow but steady detachment from you that simply hurt you. But it made you feel almost hollow, and you decided you hated that feeling.

All of this felt so surreal to you.

First you loose your home, then your entire planet, and now you were close to being alone again. Why did that make you so upset though? You'd been living on your own for years now, only having fleeting friendships and a single puppy love back in school. You had no intentions of growing attached to someone, you'd sworn yourself to be independent when your mom had thrown you out years ago- but here you were, almost crying over an alien boy who'd took you in simply because he'd taken pity on you. It all felt like a sick joke.

Something in your pocked buzzed, making you snap out of your thoughts as you fished for the device, Jungkooks face smiling at you as it showed him calling. You wanted to accept the call as if out of habit, but you resisted. Maybe it was better not to.

You put it away again, getting up from the bench you'd been sitting on as you continued walking towards nowhere, suns slowly dipping low as the skies became purple and fiery red, signaling the return of night. You should turn around by now, you knew this. Alcorian nights were not only chilly but downright icy- way too cold for your fragile body, as Jungkook always said before wrapping one of his scarfs around you.

The steady buzz in your pocket was getting annoying, as you took it out, only to see that he didn't call. In fact, he'd been writing messages? Jungkook never texted.

'Where are you little one?'

'Are you mad at me?'

'Did I do something wrong? I swear I didn't mean to!'

'Please, its getting dark, where are you? Are you wearing your coat at least?'

'I'm sorry, whatever I did, please. I'm worried little one!'

You looked at the messaged with increasing guilt as another one rolled in.

'Please come home.'

You sighed, dialing his number as you wrapped your unoccupied arm around yourself, the chill now seeping into your bones slowly. Jungkook almost immediately picked up, voice breathless as if he'd run a marathon. You could faintly hear people talking in the background, and his boots on the ground as he.. ran?

"Finally! Please, where are you, I'm so worried-" He said, and you slowly felt your teeth clatter against each other as you shivered.

"I uh.. I don't know, honestly." You admitted, and Jungkook seemed to stop in his tracks.

"What do you see around you?" He asked, voice serious as you looked around.

"I- a small store, but it seems closed. There's like, a road and uhm.. a lot of plants. Looks like a forest?" You said, before something caught your eye. "There's uhm.. Something looking at me?" You said, and Jungkooks inner alarm bells were immediately ringing.

"Is there a sign that says 'Malvor' on it?" He asked, and you confirmed with a worried voice.

"Yeah uhm and- there's a dog-like thing now walking towards me?" You said, and Jungkook answered instantly.

"Dog..? Dog-! Y/N, get away from it, but dont run." He said seriously, making you swallow as you watched the creature with huge ears stalk towards you, visibly interested. It didn't seem all that harmful. "Little one, answer me. Did you get what I said?" He asked, and you answered.

"Yeah yeah I got it eh.. I'm.." You started, as suddenly, the.. dog? Whatever it was, jumped forwards, making you drop your phone as its teeth latched onto your shirt, quickly loosing interest in the fabric as it decided to take your arm instead- spiky teeth immediately breaking skin as you yelped out, trying to open its mouth with your unoccupied hand. The commotion was loud enough to lure out an alcorian man nearby, who gruffly threw stray pebbles at the animal, scaring it off after a moment.

"Fuck- are you okay?" The stranger asked, bright cateyes looking down at you as he turned around. "Joon! Come down!" He yelled, as you looked into the direction with teary eyes, spotting- Namjoon?

"Oh Y/N- what happened?" He asked, suddenly visibly worried as he looked at you, immediately helping you up and leading you inside the house nearby that seemed to be his apartment. He looked different, now that he didn't wear his work attire. He almost looked domestic. "Set her down there, I'll go get a first aid kit." He said, before you were led to sit on a couch, the person that threw pebbles before sitting down next to you.

"I'm Jin. We'll fix you right up, okay?" He softly said, voice gentle and reminding you of the store owner down on earth who always let you roam around inside the store during winter. "Don't cry, it's gonna be okay. Encounters with Velvens can be scary yeah?" He consoled you, hands holding your arm gently as he waited for Namjoon to get everything he needed. You sniffled, trying not to cry, but it got harder the more you tried not to look down. As soon as you did, you began to feel nauseous as Jin pulled at your chin. "No no no don't look sweetheart." He said, before Namjoon came downstairs.

"These things are getting progressively more daring these days." He mumbled as he took out scissors to cut the sleeve of your shirt. "I tell you, it's because that damn lady feeding those goddamn things!" He complained, as Jin sighed. You looked at him for a second, taking in his appearance. He had broad shoulders, and an absolutely charming face- his bright eyes contrasting his dark hair as he held a gentle smile on his plush lips, trying to calm you down it seemed. "I'll give you a tiny injection okay? Its to numb your arm, or otherwise it'll hurt too bad." Namjoon explained, and you nodded, even though you were internally terrified. "one two- there we go!" He hummed out, Jin steadily running his hand over your back as he watched you.

"You're so brave young lady." He complimented, velvet voice helping a bit to ease your worry. It wasn't just your encounter with whatever that thing was, but also the fact that for the first time, you were somewhere without Jungkook- and it made you extremely anxious to say the least. Thats when you remembered your phone.

"My phone-" You began, before someone knocked at the door- or more like, tried to kick it in, it seemed. The voice that rang through the room through the door however, was familiar to your ears.

"Y/N! Namjoon, Jin, have you seen her?! There's- oh god there's blood out here-" He said worried, as Jin slowly stood up, opening the door as he simply pointed towards your form, sitting on the couch as Namjoon cleaned the bite wound. At the sight of him, all worried and out of breath, the guilt suddenly flooded your mind as you teared up, finally cracking up as the tears ran down your cheek, a sob escaping you as you began to cry. "Oh little one-" He immediately said, running towards you.

Jin looked from you to Jungkook worried. "Why is she crying now? Is she scared?" He asked confused, as the second oldest in the room shook his head.

"Probably the shock. It's normal for humans, they're a bit more sensitive to these things, remember?" He said softly, as Jin nodded.

Jungkook didn't seem to care about what was said as he squatted down next to Namjoon, hand running over your head before it cupped your cheek, his eyes blown wide open as he looked at you, then at the wound. "She's gonna be okay right?" He asked, and Namjoon nodded.

"It pulled a bit on her arm, which did a good amount of damage, but its only a surface wound, surprisingly." He explained. "I'll stitch the biggest spots, and bandage it." He said, and Jungkook nodded. "You'll be able to do it afterwards if you watch me do it, right?" He asked, and Jungkook nodded, serious, as he held your other hand. He sat down, close to you, as he now took over Jins earlier part of rubbing your back. "And there we go." Namjoon said, as he finished it. "I'd give you pain medicine but I don't have anything for humans. I'll give you some kids medication instead. That should be fine." He explained, as he gave Jungkook a small package. "Please keep an eye on her from now on. She's gotten away this time, and I wont ask why she was so far away from you in the first place. But the next time this happens, I will have to report it Jungkook." He said, making Jungkook lower his head as he nodded.

He took off his jacket as he threw it over your shoulders, picking you up as he said his goodbyes to Jin and Namjoon, walking out with you in his arms.

"Jungkook?" You carefully asked one night, making him humm as he confirmed that he was listening. "I.. want to know." You said, and it took him a moment until he turned on the light beside the bed, leaning on his arm as he looked at you questioningly. "You said, you're sure you'd hurt me. I wanna know why." You said, and he sighed, before he sat up.

"I uhm.." He started, as he scratched the back of his neck. "I'ts just, not gonna fit." He explained, as you tried to push your shyness to the side.

"But you know.. we haven't tried yet-" You began, as he shook his head.

"I said no." He sternly said, making you visibly deflate as he sighed again.

"I.. we could still, you know.." He began, and you looked at him, as he seemed to struggle a bit with his words. "I know you want to be close to me, and I want that too." He said, and you sat up now as well, looking at him.

"It's okay if you want to be with someone else-" You began, but he groaned, as if he was frustrated.

"No! Now I get why you left that day.." He held your head in his hands as he looked at you with gentle eyes. "I don't want anyone else that's not you little one." He confessed, and you just stared, as he leaned in, connecting his lips with yours.

Usually, his kisses were more like little pecks, small gestures of affection, never to lead to anything else. But this time, he asked for it. It was as if he'd let himself loose, kissing you fully for the first time, not backing away like typically when you leaned in with need. He parted your lips with his tongue, hands lowering themselves as they moved over your arms, resting on your thighs as he closed his eyes, loosing himself in the feeling of you. He finally moved around a bit, laying you down on your back as he towered over you, body shielding you away from the world as his hands finally explored your bare skin underneath the small layer of clothing you wore, chuckling as you whined when his hand softly squeezed one of your breasts, loving the soft feeling of it. "You're so cute." He whispered, making you squirm underneath him as his breathing quickened, holding himself back from absolutely ruining you.

He suddenly took off his shirt, helping you out of yours as he growled at the fact that you didn't wear a bra at all to sleep. It didn't really bug him usually, but now, he wondered how he managed to contain himself next to you for all these nights next to you, the only thing between his and your skin a mere piece of fabric. Your skin was pure sin underneath his fingertips as he felt himself twitch inside his sweats. He needed to get out of them.

He helped you out of your shorts, taking your underwear with them as his gaze got stuck on the small strand of glistening wetness clinging to the fabric of your panties. It was a clear sign how aroused you were, and it was an absolute compliment towards him in his own eyes- the fact that he could rile you up like this so quickly made him feel proud in a way. He growled almost at the sight, hand immediately finding its way downwards as his fingers teasingly running over your folds, his face showing how mesmerized he was by your body's reaction to him.

There was a reason alcorian woman were envious of human ones- and Jungkook finally found some reasoning behind the 'human-kink' going on with the arrival of your race on his homeplanet. Your body just screamed fertility at him, and it made him desperate as he finally got rid of the last pieces of clothing.

You didn't quite know what you were expecting, but your mind was empty as you made eye contact with his painfully erect length.

He was practically oozing precum at this stage, standing proudly as you somehow understood now where his worries came from. To be quite blunt about it, he looked quite normal, a little bigger even for his own body height, apart from the soft looking growth on the base of himself. "It looks odd to you, doesn't it?" He saig as he chuckled a bit hesitantly, having watched your reaction to him. You shook your head however, smiling as you reached for his shoulders, pulling him down again as you kissed his lips. He smiled into it, hands never leaving your skin as you felt him against your inner thigh, growing uneasy that he was so close- but still too far away.

"Hm I told you no little one.." He hummed against your neck as he left open mouthed kisses there, teasingly biting the skin there from time to time as you whined. "But there's other things we can do, don't worry.." He whispered, as he suddenly moved you a bit, careful not to be too rough as he lined your wet center up, the back of your thighs leaning on top of his as he sat on his knees, his cock resting between your lower lips. He almost let out a whine at the feeling of your warmth just underneath him as he simply let his length move over your core as you mewled at the feeling of him rubbing over your clit. He squeezed his eyes shut, summoning all his self control as he dropped down, hands gripping your thighs, yet gentle enough not to seriously hurt you.

He suddenly shifted again, leaning down with his chest first onto the mattress first as he threw your legs over his shoulders, leaking core exposed to him as he licked a stripe up your folds, teasing you as you tried to keep your legs apart. He hummed against you, making you whine out pleadingly as he entered a finger of his, groaning at the feeling of you already clenching around him. "You're so soft little one.." He praised, adding another finger as he began to stretch you out, making you grasp the sheets below you in desperate fists. Digit after digit he tested the waters, stretching you out more and more as you became restless, suddenly tensing up as you felt yourself close. "My little human gonna cum?" He questioned, leaning his head on the inside of your upper thigh as he began to stimulate your most sensitive bundle of nerves, watching in absolute adoration as you suddenly mewled out, core clenching around nothing as he slowed down his movements, letting you ride it out. He smiled down at you as he gently placed your legs back down, giving you a moment to breathe as you looked at him, or his still very uncomfortable looking errection between his legs.

"Please koo.. lets just try-" You began, as he furrowed his brows, gasping as your fingers reached down, barely reaching the sensitive head of his member as he tried to deny your request.

He couldn't.

"I'll.. You have to tell me when its too much, please-" He pleaded, and you nodded frantically, happy to finally have him give you everything you wanted. "Okay, okay.." He chanted, as if to calm himself down, his tensed up thighs a clear sign of his own frustration. He slowly aligned himself with your core, gently pressing his head into your patiently waiting hole, as you closed your eyes, trying to not concentrate on the sting. "Shh.. please relax little one-" He chanted as he took it as slow as possible. "Please relax, I won't get it in if you're too tense baby.." He said, the petname making you melt under his gaze as you took a deep breath, slowly loosening up for him as he was slowly able to push himself inside more and more, watching as he could see himself slightly move inside you just underneath your lower belly.

He didn't know why exactly, but he loved the sight of it.

You looked to absolutely adorable in a way, speared on his length as he rubbed his thumbs over your hipbones, careful as ever not to make it too painful for you. "You're taking me so well, you're so perfect for me.." He hummed out, as you suddenly twitched underneath him when his weird small growth touched your sensitive clit, making him chuckle. "You know.." He suddenly said, voice deep and dark as you felt yourself shiver. "They say human females can cum multiple times.." He explained, making you open your eyes a bit in question. "I wonder if that's just a rumor?" He mused, watching you as you looked a bit confused. "Alcorian girls rarely ever cum.." He explained, as you slowly connected the pieces, somehow understanding what he was saying. You'd heard that before as well, that Alcorians had a hard time really getting pregnant and since woman rarely ever orgasmed, men had to step up their game evolution wise Namjoon had said, but you hadn't really asked what he meant by that. But now that you've noticed it, it did make sense; the weird stimulating.. whatever that was, the amount of precum that seemed almost ridiculous for human standards- it made you wonder what else he was hiding.

"There we go.." He finally said, not fully inside, but knowing that this was as far as he could go with you. There was no way he could fit himself inside you fully, and he knew that. He simply let yourself adjust for a moment, before he moves, a moan leaving him as he bit his lip, trying to keep his pace slow and steady for you as you arched your back enticingly, making him grab at your chest. "You're so- enchanting-" He gasped out between breaths, an almost sobbing sound escaping him without tears as he finally realized how close he was with you. He was connected in the most intimate of ways, and he could finally see why humans found pleasure in an act as basic as this.

You felt like home, warm and comforting.

You became a bit jumpy as something foreign seemed to touch you- warm and gentle, but you couldn't quite make out it's shape or form. It was blurred, as if summer heat was distorting the scene for you, and you wondered immediately if this was just your imagination. But Jungkook noticed your confusion immediately it seemed, smiling a bit shyly at you. "They're uhm.." He tried to think of a good way to explain it while having foggy thoughts, still buried so deep inside you. "we call them ferons.." He hummed, and you reached out, fingers immediately retracting at the weird feeling of them. "They're usually.. not visible-" He gasped out, chuckling at the way you seemed so interested in them. "They're ah-.. they're a remnant of when we uh.. had to survive on our own." He explained, as one of them gently moved over your ribs, a touch similar to warm water- just without the wet feeling. It was more like a red warming lamp shining on your skin. "They must be weird to you, hm?" He asked, head dipping down as you smiled, hand finding its way into his hair as you closed your eyes again, letting yourself go into his care without worry.

"Nothing about you is weird to me, Jungkook." You hummed out, and he kissed your skin in exchange.

As if to thank you silently for accepting him.

His lips parted, face dipped down to mouth at your neck, as he breathlessly pleaded. "Can I mark you?" He chanted, as if he was in a trance. "Please let me mark you.. please little one, let me make you mine.." He said, and you nodded, unknowing to what exactly you'd just agreed to.

You found out quite quickly, as he suddenly took a small bit of skin between his teeth, now biting with much more force until he tasted a slight taste of iron on his tongue, leaving marks all along your neck and collarbone, bruises already blooming to blossom into beautiful shades of purples and greens, his mark staying behind for a long time. He smiled as if he was high, loosing himself in the feeling of your body underneath him as you suddenly quivered, whining out as you pushed your head into the mattress below you, making your back arch as he continued at his pace, going a bit faster as something moved over your clit, something holding your hips in place as you suddenly snapped, orgasm rushing through you as you finally flew over the edge, your thighs trembling as you felt wetness escape you, making him release a sound that sounded awfully like a growl.

Suddenly he came- and you felt like you were splitting into two.

Something was happening inside you, growing in size, as he was suddenly locked in place it seemed, hands carefully running over your head as he started to frantically console you. "It's okay, its okay.." He repeated in a soothing way as you felt him spill inside you to no end it seemed, feeling how he stretched you even more inside. You felt like you'd burst any second. "Ngh.. you're taking it so well, so good, so perfect.." He exhaled, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder as he breathed heavily. "You're okay, you're fine.." He hummed as he slowly felt you calm down as he stayed still, waiting for his cock to soften up again and deflate, as he kissed your cheeks, your nose, your lips in absolute adoration, warm ferons warming up your still shivering legs. "My god you're so sweet-" He murmured. "So absolutely perfect-" He continued. "And mine.. only mine.. my little human.." He sang almost as he kissed the marks he'd left behind.

It felt odd as he finally softened up, cum instantly seeping out of you as he was able to comfortably slip out of you. You whined at the empty feeling and he cooed at you. "I'm so sorry- I originally was planning on pulling out before that happened, but then you... did that and-" He chuckled, as he kissed your nose again, making you giggle. "I love you." He confessed, and you opened your eyes, gaze locking with his.

"I love you too."

"You could've warned me of your.. weird invisible tentacles and all that-" You started randomly as he threw his head back, cheeks dursted pink as he held his hands over his face in embarrassment.

"Stop-!" He whined, as you laughed your heart out.

"I thought you alcorians didn't feel shame all that much about this stuff?" You teased, as he looked at you, playfully angry stare sent your way, before he got up from his spot, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Oh I'm gonna show you how unashamed we are."

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Alcoria AU

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lordkambe · 4 years

Text

⛓ title, type, word count: high rise, drabble, +1.7k

⛓ character, fandom, type of reader: chrollo lucilfer, hunterxhunter, woman reader.

⛓ genre, rating: y/n, explicit nsfw, 18+ only.

⛓ themes, triggers: public sex, oral m/f receiving, explicit dirty talk, daddy is used as a pet name

⛓ brief summary: after a date chrollo invites y/n to a high rise suite. on the top floor they put on a show for yorknew. this is truly p*rn without the plot.

⛓ author’s note: i know i promised this earlier but i got caught up with other things plus this went in another direction than i was intending. nevertheless, i had fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy it. feedback and further suggestions is always welcome. i’m also considering of doing tag lists so if anyone is interested in that please let me know.

The chill from the glass elicited a soft shriek from you. Your hand reached forward to press your hand against the glass but Chrollo was quick to stop it. He earned a grip on your wrist and forced it behind your back. He pressed your frame firmly against the mirror. From over your shoulder you could see he was consumed with lust, “my love...” he moaned in your ear. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your eyes shifted to the skyline ahead. It lowered to see the busy streets of YorkNew beneath you. The suite Chrollo had rented was located in a high rise where the entire city of YorkNew could be seen. Embarrassment swept over you,

“what if someone sees us?”

“Then let’s give them a good show.”

The grip he hand on your wrist softened before he let go entirely. He decided to pull you towards him by using your neck instead. That same hand swept down your chest. He felt your breast through the thin fabric of the dress you wore. It was stark red color that fit your frame as if it was meant for only you to wear. Chrollo had gifted you the dress prior to your date. Just minutes before you two were in the lobby of the high rise returning from a night on the town. The way he treasured you led him to take you out anytime he was able to. You were his most prized possession.

He was gentle with the fabric but it wasn’t to spare it, it was to tease you. He felt you through the fabric before his finger looped through one of the straps. He forced it down exposing you entirely. He sees your reflection through the glass and you see his. His cheeks flushed into a rosy hue.

“No bra?” You can hear the excitement in his tone.

“It would’ve ruined how the dress looked.”

“Or maybe you’re just teasing me. Huh?” He pushed your frame closer to the glass once more. Your nipples hardened the second the cold glass touched them. You hitched a breath and felt the heat between your legs rise. Chrollo took the ends of your hair and pulled it causing your head to fall back. “Like the little slut you are.” Your lips meet and the kiss is filled with haste. Chrollo penetrated your mouth with his tongue. When you parted both of you elicited a harmonious moan. With each passing moment you felt the juices in your cunt grow. You clenched your legs together tightly in order to give yourself some pleasure as Chrollo continued to tease you. It’s almost as if he could read your mind. With his own leg he forced your legs apart. It caused a whine to fall from your hungry lips. He stepped back for a moment and you wondered what he was up to. “What are you doing?” Your voice is needy and desperate for his touch. He doesn’t respond but returns to stand directly behind you. He fixed your hair before his hands fell to either side of your waist. “Alright then. That’s what I’ll do.” You swallowed to prepare for a response but his actions are faster than you anticipated. He tore the dress from your figure and the tattered fabric fell into a puddle beneath your feet. Still pressed against the window the only thing on your body was your panties, already soaked through. He began to trail kisses on your back and down your spine. He lowered his frame while doing so. Now on his knees he stared at your ass. “Chrollo,” you whined. “My love, call me that other thing. You know.” You knew exactly what it was. It was when Chrollo had blinded you in a state of euphoria. You’d never been fucked like that before and you could’ve sworn you saw the stars. The adrenaline rush you felt from that evening caused the thing, as he called it, to fall from your sweet lips. “Daddy.” You whispered. “I’m terribly sorry my love. A little louder.” “Daddy!” You cried out. “And what would you like Daddy to do?” Your hand curled into a small fist and you bit on your lower lip. Your legs were trembling. You heard him chuckle. What’s so funny you think? Then you realize how wet you are. The juices from your swollen pussy dripped down the side of your leg and stained the floor underneath. Chrollo ran his finger up your inner thigh. A single finger pressed against your clothed entrance. “Say it.” It was a demand. With such haste you blurted out, “Daddy please fuck me hard. I want you, no! I need you.” In response Chrollo slipped your panties to the side and exposed your glistening pussy. Immediately Chrollo pressed his lips against your cunt. He gave it a sweet kiss before penetrating his tongue inside you. A moan bubbled up in your throat. It’s soft and you knew Chrollo didn’t enjoy that but he seemed to be to wrapped up in pleasuring you to care. His tongue lapped against your entrance the juices you created started to run down the sides of his lips. And the grip he had on your thighs? You were expecting to be greeted with bruises the next morning. As you moan and whine his tongue left you. It’s quickly replaced with his finger. Chrollo rose up to his feet and instructed you to push your hips towards him. Another finger entered inside of you. He’s stretching you out in preparation for his hardened length, equally as desperate to be inside you. The rhythmic pace of his fingers scattered but the sound your pussy made was consistent. You didn’t have to verbally ask to be fucked, your pussy said it all. Chrollo removed his fingers from inside you. You whined in disappointment. “I know, my love. I know.” Your neck twisted to watch him. He was unbuttoning his suit coat. It hadn’t hit you that he was fully dressed unlike yourself. With your legs weak you managed to find balance without his help. You walked toward him. “Please let me.” You said with your hands flat against his chest. You enjoyed undressing Chrollo, the moment was sensual and thrilling for the both of you. You began with his coat then loosened his tie. You removed each button to expose his toned body underneath. With your hands pressed against his biceps you slid your body downward. Now on your knees you unbuckled his pants. With the buttons undone and the zipper opened, you removed his pants to view his hardened cock hidden underneath the thin fabric of his briefs. Your hand touches the shaft of it before running it upward. It elicited a moan from Chrollo, music to your ears. You lowered the band of his briefs to finally expose his cock. You nearly drooled at the sight of it. “Daddy’s cock is so big.” The words fell from your mouth involuntary. And while you were desperate to have him press his entire length inside you. You couldn’t help yourself to attach your lips to the tip of his cock. You didn’t tease him. You took the entirety of his length in your mouth and the moan that left Chrollo’s mouth was the loudest you’ve ever heard from him. “That’s right my love, take it. Take my cock. So—- so fucking good.” His speech stuttered and it boosted your ego. Your head bopped in unpredictable patterns causing Chrollo’s knees to buckle. His hand tangled into your hair. “Ah, ah — fuck!” He tore your head from his cock. You let out a cough before using the back of your hand to wipe away the liquid from your lips. On your knees you looked up at him. He’s exhausted but hungry for more. “So are you going to fuck me good daddy?” You batted your eyelashes. Chrollo didn’t say a word. He lifted you up from your arm and gently threw you against the window once more. His hands ran up your stomach before he cupped your breasts he played with your nipples for what felt like an entirety. Finally, fucking finally. He entered inside you. Your wet pussy welcomed him with such ease that the two of you moaned in ecstasy. You arched your back and pressed your hands flat on the window. The sound of your skin clapping against each other filled the room. Alongside it were your whimpers. “I’m sorry Y/N? Do I need to get my ears checked?” He said between labored breathes. He took one of your legs and hooked it underneath his arm. You felt is cock hit your g-spot and you choked at the euphoric sensation. “I can’t hear you.” Instantly a moan bubbled from your chest and left your mouth. It was loud, visceral. The rims of your eyes began to water as he continued to mercilessly thrust into you. “That’s a good girl!” He praised. “Such a good fucking girl. That’s what they are thinking looking at you down there. Oh— god.” The beat of his thrusting grew erratic, he was close and so were you. “Chrol— Daddy! Oh! Fuck me! I’m going to cum!” He responded with his own moan. You felt his lips return to your shoulder. He littered your back with warm, sloppy kisses. Within your core you feel it tighten but the growing wetness in your swollen cunt is also concerning. You continue anyway far too warped in pleasure. Chrollo took a his two fingers and pressed it against your clit. You gagged in pleasure at the touch alone. Already so sensitive and on the verge of over simulation you welcome it anyway. He rubbed your clit with vigor. “Cum for my baby, cum.” The knot in your stomach released. The sound of pleasure that tore from your throat filled the room and it matched Chrollo’s deep, husky moans. He came inside you and you squirted all over his thighs. You stood there in the mutual mess you made. His cock softened inside you with another kiss on your shoulder he removed himself. You felt weak in your legs but he was quick to support you. “You did good.” He complimented as you could only greet him with a tired nod. He lifted you from your feet and carried you bridal style. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said while pressing a firm kiss on your forehead.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo smut #chrollo x y/n #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hxh chrollo #hxh smut #hxh x reader #hxh.#cl.#tm.#nsfw.

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hanatiny · 3 years

Text

Perfect Illusion

a/n: this fic is inspired by this post (although I modified the idea a bit)! for those interested, I even made a spotify playlist to hopefully enhance the experience~

pairing: royal guard!San x royal guard/spy!f!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2113

warnings: royal AU, weapons (knives and daggers), brief mention of infidelity (which I do not condone), swearing, teasing, dry humping, hair pulling, name-calling (they keep insulting each other... oops), enemies with benefits, implied enemies to lovers (kind of), slight knife kink, implied pain kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, no clear dom/sub roles

-----

Despite excelling at undercover work, you weren’t known be incredibly ‘out there’ in the way you executed your tasks, so this particular mission you had been given must have been the one you disliked the most as of now, not to mention that you despised the tactic of seduction.

You did your best to attract as little attention as possible in order to carry out your information gathering in peace. Although it seemed that in doing so, you had become a little too suspicious for one of the guards. You heaved a sigh, meeting his eyes while most of his face remained covered by the hood and the mask he wore to not look like the odd one out at the royal masquerade event. He nudged his head towards a nearby balcony after asking for one of his fellow guards to watch his spot, signalling you to follow.

Albeit slowly, you did what was asked of you - your beliefs were much too deeply rooted in obedience not to. Once outside, the guard closed and locked the door behind you. Shrugging off his hood, he took off his mask while you did the same so the two of you were equally bare to each other.

“San?!” “Y/n?!” You both gasped aloud in equal shock and surprise, slapping a hand over each other’s mouths to prevent anyone from hearing how casually you spoke with each other.

Prying your hand away from his face, although still holding it in his own, San quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at you, “What, pray tell, are you doing here at this party wearing that?”

Your voice was teasing as you spoke and he gestured towards the black dress you were wearing, “Oh, this old thing~?” He rolled his eyes at your playful tone but allowed you to continue, “As much as I didn’t want to, His Highness requested me to keep my eyes and ears open for anything or anyone suspicious... and had the bright idea of having me use seduction to get the job done.”

Despite knowing how much you hated the technique in question, San thought it fun to tease and rile you up about it, “Do I classify as suspicious then? Cause you’ve definitely caught my interest and seduced me...~”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing him and pulling him close by the tie he was wearing before whispering in his ear, “With how flirty you’re being, definitely. I might have to arrest you now, sunshine~ But if you play your cards right, I might let you fuck me, pretty boy.”

It was your turn to cock an eyebrow when San nonchalantly turned the situation around on you and pinned you against the wall roughly, both of your wrists above your head in one of his own while an almost bored grin danced across on your face at the act. “That all you got~?”

“Not at all, sweetheart...~” “Show me then,” you challenged without hesitation, hooking one of your legs around his hip to draw his body closer and flush against yours, “show me what you can do, unless you want to admit that a woman could dom you~”

Bullseye. You hit him right in his sore spot, knowing him to be much too competitive to let such a cheeky comment slide. You saw something shift in his eyes, something dark, and you knew you had him right then and there, “You asked for it... don’t complain if you limp afterwards.”

“Wanna bet~?” San effectively shut you up by melding his plush lips to yours, your hands tugging greedily at his already messy hair while the grinding of your hips against his coaxed a soft moan from his lips.

“You really don’t intend to make it easy for me do you, little vixen...” He whispered against your lips, his voice low and raspy as he did so, causing you to give him a casual shrug, “You know me, I always want to be the one who comes out on top. Whether that is in the physical sense or not couldn’t matter any less to me, frankly.”

San huffed softly, he knew you were competitive but so was here. However, the difference between the two of you was that you were willing to play dirty to get what you want.

As such, you couldn’t prevent a slight smirk from tugging at your lips when his breath hitched audibly after he pushed the hem of your dress up to your hips and spotted the daggers strapped to one of your thighs. “Staring longer won’t make the image imprint itself in your mind any faster. And in case you haven’t noticed with how much you want my daggers on your body, I’m worked up and hereby telling you to hurry up and fuck me. Right here, right now.”

“Getting feisty and demanding, are we? Two can play that game, Y/n...~” Reaching into the inside of his jacket, San pulled out a knife and held it to your throat while the cocky smirk never left your face, “Are you just gonna keep threatening me with a good time so that I’ll walk right back in there and tell everyone you’re my bitch, or are you actually gonna do something about that obvious boner in your pants?”

San’s eyebrow twitched at your audacity, the discovery of the fact that you had foregone underwear tonight not helping his dwindling patience in the slightest, “Pathetic how desperate you are for my cock, you minx. Needing to cover it up with such a tough girl act...”

He trailed off, watching you closely as he pocketed his knife and used his now unoccupied hand to quickly unfasten his pants and free his aching length from its confines. He stroked himself a few times, the seconds passing torturously slowly in your eyes as you licked your lips in anticipation before throwing your head back against the wall with a strangled gasp when he fully inserted himself inside of you without warning.

“You son of a-” “Shush doll, don’t want anyone to hear what we’re doing out here do you~?” You huffed as he interrupted you, pretending to think for a moment before shaking your head with a smile, “I actually do, imagine the surprise when they’d hear that two of the royal guards are all over each other...~”

San’s eyes darkened once more before narrowing them at you, “You asked for it, then... Be prepared to scream.”

“Such big words from the man who’d let me spit in his mouth~” You weren’t having it though, only mewling and moaning softly while San repeatedly snapped his hips into yours. His pace was rough and quick, eager to get both you and himself off, “Won’t even, fuck- won’t even scream for me... am I not fucking you hard enough?”

“Mmh... nope~!” You replied with a toothy grin, gasping sharply when San thrusted inside of you particularly harshly. “That better?” “Much~” He continued to move at the harsh pace he had just set, his breath hitching when his hand accidentally brushed against the leather garter still fixed securely around your thigh.

He felt himself twitch violently when you spoke through low pants, his thrusts stuttering, “Wouldn’t you love to have me trail one of those daggers over your sensitive skin, sunshine? Perhaps even pierce it a little here and there to show who you belong to~?”

Those last words came out unintentionally but you didn’t feel the need to correct yourself, considering that your possessiveness appeared to be the last straw for San judging by the warmth that filled you as he came, your own orgasm washing over you shortly after. Once you had both caught your breath, he carefully pulled out of you and helped you straighten out your dress after doing the same to his own clothes.

You implying that he was yours was undoubtedly a matter to be discussed, but for now, you two had a masquerade to return to. As such, San handed your mask back to you after having previously stored it in one of his jacket pockets. You both secured your masks back on your faces so that your identities were concealed once more, although San decided to not pull his hood back up.

He unlocked the balcony door before turning to you with a teasing albeit charming smile, holding his hand out for you to take, “Will you let me have this dance, m’lady~?”

You found it amusing how quickly he could switch back to his professional persona, placing your hand in his own regardless, “It’d be my pleasure~”

He led you back inside of the large, well-lit ballroom where no one was any the wiser of what had transpired mere minutes ago, your dress swaying slightly while you danced with San, a small grin painted on your features.

You ended up getting to bed incredibly late, almost stumbling out of it the next morning before quickly making yourself presentable after being requested in the throne room by His Highness himself, wondering what it could possibly be about.

You ran into San on the way there, finding out that he had been called to see the prince as well. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, you weren’t particularly surprised to find it empty besides the presences of you, your companion and Yeosang, who had placed his crown on a pedestal near himself.

Letting his emotionless facade crack a bit, he gave a small smile when he saw the two of you kneel before him as it was custom for the subordinates or the royal family.

“Those who want to wear the crown need to prove they are able to bear its weight.”

Yeosang’s voice rang out through the room, causing you and San to look at each other questioningly and then back up at him in confusion. The older male had never been more glad to not have any other of his court officials or guards besides the two of you inside of his throne room, relieved that he could be blunt about his message.

“I’m sure you both are aware of how I came to be where I am presently, yes?” You both nodded in response. “Then you know my mother was not a true queen and slept her way to the throne. Hell, I’m even a bastard child - her husband was not my father. In short... she was a whore.”

San gasped quietly next to you in surprise at the word choice, causing you to nudge him gently to remind him to focus and listen.

“I don’t want to keep the two of you here any longer than necessary,” the unrightful prince leaned forward, his weight still resting on the arm he had previously propped himself up on, “My coronation is set to be held eleven days from now. Whichever of you comes up with the better plan to cover up my ‘coincidental’ disappearance by then gets to claim the throne.”

It was a tempting offer, that much you had to admit, but it sounded almost too good to actually be true.

“Your Highness-” “Please drop the formalities Y/n, you’ve known me since I was a little child.” The young man in question corrected softly as you cleared your throat with an understanding nod, “Are you sure this will work out as you intend it to? I’m not sure anyone would believe one of your royal guards to be allowed to inherit the crown just like that...”

“Y/n. Surely you’ve noticed how desperate the people are for a ruler who stands with them, even with all the time you spend working? They’ll accept just about anyone. As long as neither of you exposes the truth about any part of my family... do we have a deal?”

San looked at you and met your eyes, lingering for a few beats before getting up from his knees with you following suit as you looked up at the prince and spoke in unison, always up for a challenge - especially if it just so happened to come with a high reward like this one did, “We have a deal.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now off you two go, there is work to be done~” Yeosang hummed, you and your ‘companion’ bowing respectfully and nodding before turning on your respective heels.

San pulled his hood back over his head and glanced at you with a smug grin that you happily mirrored, both of you making a run for it out of the throne room.

After all, it was only a matter of time and of who created the most perfect illusion, aware that only one of you would come out on top.

----- Taglist (tell me if you wanna be added):

@atinykitty @cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @galaxteez @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @twancingyunhoe @vocalyunho @yunhoiseyecandy

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet

#8makes1teamnet #ateez royal au #royal au #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #san smut #ateez san smut #me coming out of my figurative writing cave with this: hi did u miss me #hanatiny writes

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datsrightbby · 3 years

Text

Marko + David (TLB) x Fem!Reader

Insatiable Habits

Warnings: NSFW/Smut, cursing, voyeurism, threesome

It had started off as subtle teasing at first, the kinda stuff that made you blush. Like, a gloved hand skimming your thigh and creating shapes across the exposed skin, or a lingering kiss on your neck, and the occasional whisper in your ear that had you burning crimson red and burying your face into the crook of his neck. It was the minute his palm went that bit higher on your thigh, the minute his thumb ghosted over your clothed crotch, did you start feeling flustered to the point of rubbing your legs together in need of friction.

Not often did you and the boys stay back at the cave the whole night, but tonight was one of those rare occurrences when all of you were content staying in. David took full opportunity, of course, and kept you on his lap. The night had just begun to seep into early hours of the morning, which reminded you -

"Don't you guys need...food?" It's not as though you were ignorant to the fact of what they were, it was more so you'd refused to fully wrap your head around the idea that the four guys you met, one now your boyfriend and mate, were violent in any way. Though if you could avoid talking about it, or thinking about it for that matter, then you'd be okay.

"Dude, I’m starving -"

" - Yeah we should leave before the sun starts coming up." Marko remarked, putting down his sketch book and standing up to tug his discarded jacket on. You went to move off David, but his hand on your hip kept you in place on top of him, the subtle gesture telling you that he planned on staying with you. The boys gave you both a once over as they headed toward the stairs, smirks decorating their features at the sight.

"Guess David's passing up tonight for some other kinda food." Paul hollered and Dwayne sent you a wink, which internally made you roll your eyes, but you grinned back at them anyway. Marko had hestitantly headed towards the steps after them, albeit a few strides behind -

"Marko!" There was a pause as Marko's attention turned back around to David, eyes skimming across your figure before focusing intently on the man who's lap you resided.

"Stay." It wasn't a question, it was a demand, and Marko didn't seem to have much to say about the ordeal. You couldn't pinpoint why David had asked Marko to stay behind as it was implied, from both the endless teasing and staying behind, that the two of you were gonna do a little more than some heavy petting. David reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter, lighting it in one attempt and taking a deep intake, exhaling toward the ceiling as to not get smoke all over you.

Marko had resided back to the couch, while you and David shifted against each other, you placing little kisses on his jaw as he blew smoke toward the ceiling again.

"Why did you ask Marko to stay behind?" You whispered lowly, hoping he couldn't hear.

"I have an idea." It was all he said before dipping his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, your head fell back and you let out a low, breathy moan as he rubbed languid circles against you. The cigarette he lit hung loosely from his lips, ash falling onto his lap haphazardly. In the corner you heard Marko shift in place and you panicked, reminding yourself of his presence and trying to pry yourself away from David's fingers, which had now entered you and pumped in and out a few times. There was no reaction from Marko other than staring at the sight in front of him, though you were sure he wasn't expecting to see David’s fingers working sinfully against you when he looked up from his previous activity.

"Relax kitten, I know what I'm doing." You looked up at him in both shock and confusion, but didn't question his motives, he'd never done you any harm before and you trusted David. Perhaps, if you hadn't been so worked up from his endless teasing all night, things would be different under the same circumstance, but that was neither here nor there. Relaxing into his touch, opting to close your eyes and focus on the feelings rather then the wandering eyes, you allowed for the situation to continue.

"Let us hear you -" David's voice growled in your ear and you moaned explicitly, louder than you had expected.

"That's my girl." You whimpered and bucked your hips up into the palm of his hand, knowing he was smirking down at you right now.

Your arousal laid thick in the air to the vampires, it was sweet and intoxicating, and Marko swallowed thickly at the scent of it. Just when you felt as though your high may have been approaching, David pulled out and sucked on his fingers, licking off any trace you'd left on them. Marko watched you intensely, eyes lingering on any exposed skin they could get too. You felt erotic and filthy, but in the best way possible. The way the two looked at you sent goosebumps flying across your skin, it was as though you were the prey and they were the wolves, every fleck of color in their eyes had turned to black in desire and need, and you knew where this was headed simply by how they stared at you. On somewhat shaky legs you stood from your spot on David's lap, he waved his hand in Marko’s direction as if to tell you to go over to him -

“Remember you’re still mine.” Nodding, you thumbed over his jaw before sauntering over to Marko, who'd watched your every step approach him. In a surge of confidence you placed your hand on his shoulder, laying him back against the couch, sitting on his crotch with your thighs either side of him. You grind against him slightly, noting that his cock was already hard as sin. Marko let you have your fun, looking over to David who only watched while smoking the remains of his smoke, with a nod from his leader he had all the knowledge he needed of the situation. This wasn’t planned, but Marko was aware David knew of his feelings for you and it seemed he was letting him indulge a little. Instantly he had spun you both over, thrusting against you, a moan skipping past your lips. You'd been teased all night, so feeling his erection right where you needed him most, well, it was heavenly almost.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this." Marko teased your neck with kisses and nips, his eyes closed and he inhaled your scent; the way your hair smelled, the arousal between your legs, the perfume you wore, you were intoxicating and it's no wonder David could never keep his hands off you. Who could resist you?

David had long stubbed out the rest of his cigarette as he watched the two of you toy with each other and tease, he watched as Marko whispered dirty things in your ear and how you replied with giggles, and he soon unzipped his fly and freed himself of the restraints his cock was behind, stroking himself at the sight of the two of you. This wasn't just because he knew you found Marko cute, or the fact that he knew Marko had been in love with you since he met you, no, this was David's fantasy too.

It didn't seem long before Marko had ripped your clothing off of you, you'd responded with as much fervor. His hands roamed every inch of you in eagerness, he relished in the soft curves of your body and the way you shivered beneath him. It seemed too good to be true, having you here now was better than he had ever imagined. Marko kissed down your body, nipping here and there, which caused him to grin up at you every time you jumped. He stared at you for a moment, breath heavy and chest heaving, eyes pleading with you -

“Please let me have a taste?”

You weren’t sure if it was a question for you or David, but you’d instantly whined out a ‘yes’ and he wasted no time working against you. His tongue teased your clit in circular motions and you shook underneath his grip on your thighs, hips moving up against his mouth in need of more friction. The desperateness of the night took over you; David’s consistent teasing since you’d arrived, your forgotten orgasm from David’s fingers, and now Marko’s tongue wickedly lapping against you, you couldn’t help but huff out in neediness. Your head lolled to the side and noted David palming himself through his jeans, it appeared he was enjoying this just as much as you and Marko. A bite on your thigh had your attention back on the curly haired blonde in between your legs in an instant, he grinned and delved further into your wetness, giving you the relief you’d been craving.

“Use your fingers, she likes that.” Per David’s request Marko’s middle and index finger entered you and your head fell back against the couch, hands holding his head in place as his tongue roughly explored every inch of you. You couldn’t help the curse words that slipped, and the slap on your thigh because of it had you whimpering.

“I - I think I’m gonna cum” Marko only sped up his ministrations, adding another finger inside you, stretching you out, he played with the spot that had you shaking the most until your body was overtook in blissful release. Never once did he stop, even as your hands attempted to tear him off of your spent body, he continued until he was sure the taste of you was burned into his memory. His body moved up you once again, claiming your mouths together in a sloppy kiss, the taste of your arousal still heavy on his tongue. His mouth moved from yours to you ear -

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel me inside you for a week.” he whispered so possessively it had you clenching around nothing and praying he’d live up to the promise. The sound that came out of you was borderline pornographic, though you were beyond modesty at this point. Marko lined himself up with your entrance, looking down at you for silent permission, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him close, his cock slipping into you with ease and stretching you out deliciously. Between Marko’s moan and your choked sob, you knew you were gonna crave the feeling of him being inside you for weeks after, he was inside you raw, and he took a moment in awe to rejoice the feeling of you, knowing it was probably the only time he'd ever get to have this experience, and he wasn't about to let this go to waste. He was going to fuck you so good you'd remember it forever, remember him forever. The pace he set was fast with deep, hard thrusts that had you clawing at the couch underneath you to keep you still. Your mouth hung open from the intense feeling of him pounding into you, your lips spewing out a mantra of curses and Marko's name.

“Do I fuck you good baby?" You moaned louder at his words, trying to find the will in you to focus on anything other than his cock filling you to the brim with every movement of his hips. When you didn't answer him, he opted to slap your thigh, an echo wondering around the cave because of it.

"Tell me."

"Y-yes - you feel amazing- ugh"

Your head coaxed to the side, noticing David had now freed himself and was stroking his cock to the same pace Marko fucked you at. "Oh fuck -"

You didn't know who to look at; Marko fucking you into next week, or David getting off to the sight of you being fucked. It was overwhelmingly sexy having the two men desire you so greatly, being shared between them made you feel powerful.

David watched your thighs flex around Marko’s torso, the way you threw your head back in pure pleasure, how Marko’s cock disappeared between your legs over and over again. He stood and sauntered over to the two of you, placing his cock at the tip of your mouth, asking for entrance into your, all too willing, mouth. You happily accepted and took as much of him as you could fit at once, though David soon had a hand on the back of your head and his hips thrusting his cock into your mouth. All you could do was relax and let him take you, forcing yourself to hold back chokes and spit as he fucked your throat with ease, all while Marko rammed his painfully hard cock into you, your thigh now over his shoulder and the new angle allowing him to be so deep inside you it hurt, in the most pleasurably painful way. It wasn’t long before you felt your second orgasm build up, the aftershocks of the last one still lingering and causing you to tremble against the two men ravishing you, tears spilled from your eyes as Marko fucked you through it. Soon your body was convulsing and shuddering underneath them, David’s cock still deep down your throat, and Marko’s deep inside you. You clung onto Marko’s shoulders for dear life, heat spreading throughout your entire body and turning you numb as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensations, both of them were close, from Marko’s messy pace to David’s twitching cock, you moaned around him to spur him along, while Marko chanted out in whines as his release approached -

“Don’t you dare cum inside her.” Marko did as he was told and pulled out quickly, spilling himself all over your stomach, David soon cumming down your throat and making you deep throat him as you swallowed every last drop, you grabbed his thigh and squeezed, a sign that you needed to stop and relax a minute, which he did immediately, tucking himself back into his pants and leaning down to your eye level.

“Are you okay kitten?” You nodded, noting how your body ached from the rough actions it had endured. Marko placed a kiss on your cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. “You sure? I can get you anything you need.” You gave him a weak smile and stroked his cheek, trying to reassure him as best you could that you were, indeed, fine, but fucked out.

The boys helped clean you up and take you over to the make shift nest David had built you a few months prior. Though, one question lingered in your mind. Where does your relationship go from here?

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #marko the lost boys #the lost boys Marko #david the lost boys #the lost boys david #marko the lost boys x reader #david the lost boys x reader #Shakira Writes

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maleficarfic · 3 years

Text

A Mutual Pursuit

Pairing: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Remake

Rating: Explicit

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mild Spoilers

Summary: He ached, he burned, he stood back in Nibelheim in the midst of a conflagration, but this time, his skin trapped the flames. In that moment, he knew without a doubt that he would let Sephiroth do whatever he wanted.

On AO3: Link

“Let us defy destiny together.”

Sephiroth held out his hand.

Cloud stared at it. At him. Back at the hand.

Some strange, yawning hunger unfurled within him. Bizarre, nearly overwhelming need drove him to lift his hand toward Sephiroth’s. He—he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to help Sephiroth do anything, and yet—

Staticky, indistinct whispers fogged his brain. He could pick out fragments of sentences—

—union with—

Join—

—me. Embrace—

—but could make out nothing intelligible.

Beneath the words scratching inside his skull, that need churned inside him. It threaded through him like a second skeleton, its desires subsuming his own. He stood on the mental precipice of his own destruction. The only thing standing between him and the utter loss of self was empty air.

Cloud shuddered.

He didn’t want to help Sephiroth, and yet he felt his arm move.

“No,” he snarled, clasping his hand against his arm. His feet slid apart, his body turning to the side to shelter the arm reaching for Sephiroth.

Gritting his teeth, he dug his fingers into his own wrist hard enough to bruise, hard enough that he felt bones grating together. His eyes snapped up, meeting Sephiroth’s steely gaze.

Steely, but not indifferent.

Something sinister and dark lurked behind the startling green of Sephiroth’s eyes. Something hungry, as hungry as the clawing need inside of Cloud.

“Don’t deny me,” Sephiroth said, taking a step toward him.

Cloud tried to move, but the gravity of a thousand suns held him in place. He strained against the hunger inside him, against the need to reach out for the monster taking yet another step toward him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he drew on every ounce of strength he possessed. He recalled the horrific flashes of Tifa’s anguish. He remembered Aerith’s words before they stepped into the final battle. Beneath it all, he felt his own residual terror and he used his fear to fill his bones with strength.

He let out a howl of fury and denial and pain. He tore himself away from destiny, wrenching his body backward.

And his hand settled in Sephiroth’s palm.

Cloud’s eyes flew wide open. He sucked in a sharp, horrified breath, and that breath exploded out of him with disbelief.

No.

With no air in his lungs, he couldn’t voice that horrified word.

Sephiroth’s head tipped ever so slightly to the side. “You are the last piece,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The rough timbre of it stroked the raw, visceral hunger that chewed in Cloud’s gut, soothing the indiscernible source of it. “The last piece I need.” Sephiroth stepped closer, pulling on Cloud’s arm at the same time.

The inexorable strength in Sephiroth’s grip pulled Cloud off balance, and he stumbled forward.

Sephiroth caught him with his hand around Cloud’s throat.

Pleasure exploded beneath his skin. He ached, he burned, he stood back in Nibelheim in the midst of a conflagration, but this time, his skin trapped the flames. In that moment, he knew without a doubt that he would let Sephiroth do whatever he wanted. Shatter his trachea, smash his throat, crush the delicate bones of his neck.

And the ecstasy of his agony would be exquisite.

“Embrace me,” Sephiroth commanded.

On some primal level, Cloud understood that Sephiroth didn’t want to be held. That demand was for so much more than Cloud’s arms around him. Though he knew holding the other man wasn’t enough, it was all he knew to do. He reached for Sephiroth with both arms now, sliding them beneath the heavy fall of the other man’s jacket.

Cloud’s hands pressed against the naked skin of Sephiroth’s back, and he discovered a new, profound loathing for the gloves that kept him from touching Sephiroth’s skin.

(No, no, that wasn’t right, he didn’t want to touch Sephiroth, he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want any of this, he wanted to find his strength, he wanted—)

He wanted to curve his hands around Sephiroth’s shoulders, but Sephiroth’s pauldrons and the tight fit of his jacket through the chest prevented Cloud’s touch.

Sephiroth’s fingers tightened on Cloud’s throat. His eyes narrowed with thinly veiled disappointment, and Cloud’s heart skipped two beats in his chest.

“I—”

“You’re not ready,” Sephiroth said, squeezing harder. Disgust colored his tone, filled in the space between his words. “Not yet.”

No. No, he was ready, he would give Sephiroth whatever he wanted, whatever needed.

(A distant part of him howled in outrage.)

“But we can make progress here.” The barest hint of a smile curled Sephiroth’s lips. “Together.”

Sweet joy coursed through Cloud. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice raspy and rough from the abuse of Sephiroth’s hand.

In a single, fluid motion, Sephiroth took Cloud to the ground. Cloud’s back hit the dirt, and he cried out more in surprise than pain, and then, as Sephiroth’s body settled against his and pinned his wrists by his shoulders, surprise evaporated, replaced by pleasure.

By horror. He was failing. Once again he was failing and once again someone else would need to save him because he was never enough on his own.

“Mmm, no, we can do better than this for you, Cloud.”

Cloud panted beneath Sephiroth, staring up at him with rapture in his gaze.

Sephiroth rolled off him, smoothly transferring Cloud’s wrists to one hand. He dragged Cloud’s smaller frame between his legs, laying Cloud’s back against his chest. Silvery hair billowed around them like contrails in the air, a thousand lines of bullets shimmering around Cloud’s face.

“Much better.”

Cloud fought the fall of his head, he really did. Against his will, it dropped backwards onto Sephiroth’s shoulder. This felt right (it felt wrong). This felt good (if felt awful). The closer he could be to Sephiroth, the less hunger he felt.

No, that wasn’t quite right. The yawning, endless hunger inside him grew increasingly satisfied, but the fiery desire simmering under his skin only burned with greater intensity. Every touch, every moment of contact, both soothed and inflamed, both eased and incited.

Caught in the spiraling dichotomy, Cloud felt small and lost. He was a mortal resting in the arms of an immortal god. Wasn’t this where he belonged? It felt right, so very right.

Sephiroth’s lips drew along Cloud’s temple, and he shuddered in his god’s embrace. Aching heat spread through him and pooled in his groin. Delicious need made his cock stir and harden, and he trembled.

“You’ve come so far for me already,” Sephiroth purred, and sweet relief washed through Cloud.

He’d been fighting against Sephiroth, raging against the creature he should worship above all others, and yet his actions merited praise. He hadn’t been making mistakes. He hadn’t ruined yet another attempt at becoming—something. Someone. At becoming more.

Sephiroth’s hand smoothed down Cloud’s chest, and Cloud’s cock hardened so fast it hurt. Blood pounded in his veins, and he arched almost violently against Sephiroth’s touch. He twisted into the heat of Sephiroth’s hand, desperately aching for more touch, more sensation, more of his god’s caresses.

“Good, Cloud.”

Sephiroth’s praise filled him with delirious pleasure. He could weep from the rightness of it.

Long fingers curved around Cloud’s wrist, lifting his hands to curl them against his chest.

“Hmm? What’s this?” Sephiroth turned Cloud’s wrist in his hand, inspecting the bracer he wore, and Cloud shivered with anticipation and eagerness to know what Sephiroth saw that was so fascinating. “Elemental materia linked to ice—and to fire.” His dark chuckle shook Cloud like a storm. His cock throbbed, his hips rolling.

Booted feet swung over Cloud’s ankles, trapping him and denying him the range of motion he needed to rock his hips again. A weak sound caught in his throat.

“Clever.”

Sephiroth’s lips touched his ear, and Cloud gasped, feeling as though someone had cast thundaga on him.

“Do you know what this allows me to do to you, Cloud?”

He’d equipped his materia like this so that Sephiroth couldn’t do things to him, he remembered that much. He remembered thumbing the elemental materia pieces before slipping them into his armor, equipping them with fire and ice because—because he remembered something else, an echo of before. The same memory as Tifa’s screams of anguish, the same memory as—

Cloud jerked violently in Sephiroth’s grasp, and this time it had nothing to do with Sephiroth’s agonizingly hot caresses.

He had to get away. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want any of this.

“I won’t—”

“You will,” Sephiroth said matter of factly, yanking Cloud’s shirt from the thick expanse of his belt. He rucked it up, pushing it high on Cloud’s chest.

Warm leather dragged over Cloud’s skin, and he’d have to be a better man not to find that sensation arousing, especially when his cock was already hard and very interested in every way that Sephiroth touched him.

“A demonstration.”

Cloud struggled against Sephiroth’s superior grip. The strength the other man wielded was impossible, even for a SOLDIER. But if SOLDIERs were gods among men, then Sephiroth was a god among SOLDIERs. No force of nature could free Cloud from his god’s grip.

“Let me go!” Cloud snarled, bucking wildly in Sephiroth’s grip. He went nowhere, of course.

A unique scent filled the air. Like mako, magic had a scent, and each spell smelled a particular way. The fire family smelled like embers and charcoal, like a hot and humid day. Lightning materia laced the air with crackling ozone before the magic formed.

Something sharp and cold filled Cloud’s nose. He smelled mountain winds and icy tundras. Frigid mornings had a distinct smell, filling the nose and biting at flesh.

Sephiroth cast blizzard against Cloud’s skin, dragging his thumb along Cloud’s nipple.

Sensation ricocheted down his spine. Fuck, Sephiroth cast blizzard but it felt like thunder, and Cloud gasped, arching into that touch.

A second later, he felt the sweet burn of fire. Sephiroth’s hand dragged across his chest, pulling flame over his skin. Cloud writhed beneath that touch, trapped by Sephiroth’s strength and forced to feel. It hurt, yes, but with his elemental materia absorbing the damage, it felt unspeakably good, too.

“Stop,” Cloud breathed, the protest faint. It rang hollow, even to him, because he didn’t want Sephiroth to stop. No, he wanted the lingering stroke of Sephiroth’s hand again. Wanted to feel ice against his skin in place of the heat.

“Mmm.” For a moment, Sephiroth sounded like he was actually considering Cloud’s request. “No.”

Shock rippled through him as Sephiroth unfastened his belt. He tossed the thick piece of leather aside, his fingers pulling at the fly of Cloud’s pants. “Progress,” he purred in Cloud’s ear, “is made step by slow, exquisite step. I will perfect you, Cloud.”

Cloud trembled as Sephiroth’s hand pushed beneath his pants. He sucked in a hard breath as Sephiroth’s palm ran over the length of his hand cock through his underwear. And he swore, his head falling back, when Sephiroth dragged blizzard-touched fingers over his skin.

Caught between Sephiroth’s chest and his hands, trapped by Sephiroth’s legs laying over his, Cloud could do nothing but feel. And the things he felt—

His head hit Sephiroth’s shoulder. Broken, aching moans spilled past his lips as Sephiroth’s hand closed around his cock. Body-warm leather slid over his skin, the texture a delicious counterpoint to the licks of ice.

One cold thumb dragged over the head of Cloud’s cock, smearing a drop of precum over his skin. Sephiroth’s warm palm dragged down his length, touch hard and firm and rough enough to pulled another moan from him.

And then Sephiroth’s hands weren’t cold, they were burning hot.

Cloud cried out, twisting in Sephiroth’s grasp. The sudden change shocked him, but it diminished none of the pleasure of Sephiroth’s touch. Instead, the heat made him burn more, made electric pleasure dance down his spine.

“Good,” Sephiroth purred, and though Cloud hated that praise, he ached for more of it. His cock twitched in Sephiroth’s hand, and the other man let out a low, dark chuckle against his ear that did as much to twist Cloud up inside as the hand on his length.

A squeeze beneath the head of his cock made stars explode across his vision. A rough stroke made him gasp and groan. A twist of Sephiroth’s wrist and a long drag up his length pulled a sound from Cloud that was almost embarrassing—but it made him feel like he was flying, or falling, or both, and the only Sephiroth’s embrace kept him stable.

“Imagine being this wrapped up in me all the time.” Sephiroth’s lips brushed against Cloud’s ear, and need twisted in Cloud’s gut. He panted, eyes staring into the distance without focus. “Imagine no barriers between us—ever.”

He shouldn’t want that. He knew he shouldn’t want that, but, fuck, he craved it. The very thought of it soothed the violent hunger in his gut at the same time it twisted passion’s knife deeper between his ribs.

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Sephiroth surged forward in a smooth roll. He pushed Cloud’s shoulders to the rocky ground, but Cloud found no complaint in the bite of stone against his cheek, his chest, his knees. The sharp pricks provided a decadent counterpoint to the rough stroke of Sephiroth’s hand on his cock, making the pleasure better. Harsher. Harder.

He groaned.

“Let go, Cloud,” Sephiroth purred, laying himself across Cloud’s back.

Silver moonlight spun into strands of hair billowed and fell about them in twisting coils. Each silky caress against his skin added another layer to the ecstasy Sephiroth painted against his skin.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Cloud rocked hard into Sephiroth’s fist.

Close now, so close. He moved with the other man, hating himself for his own weakness, but desperately needing the release Sephiroth could give him. He chased it with everything in him. The changes between fire and ice didn’t register, didn’t shock him; when Sephiroth switched between one spell and the other, all it did was add more to the sensation, building up until—

Sephiroth’s hand dragged rough down Cloud’s length and applied slow, steady pressure around the base of his cock.

A choking sob burst past his lips as Sephiroth’s rough grip forestalled orgasm but brought with it an utterly overwhelming wave of pleasure. For a moment, Cloud couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know where he was. Didn’t know who he was. Only Sephiroth’s hand on his cock defined him. Only the weight of him at Cloud’s back sketched in the lines of reality.

“Mutual pursuit of the same goal,” Sephiroth said, almost casually, as he released Cloud’s wrists, “is what brings us closer. When we want the same thing, then you’ll be ready for the final reunion. Don’t you want that?”

Did he? Shit, he didn’t know. He didn’t think he should want that, but he didn’t not want it, either.

“Please,” he gasped, hating himself for the weakness. He didn’t really know if he was asking for more or for clarification, but he also didn’t care which it was. Anything Sephiroth gave him now would be better than nothing.

A hand wrapped in leather stroked down Cloud’s side. Sephiroth’s jacket hung around them both, shadowing their bodies and trapping their shared heat. Cloud trembled as Sephiroth’s hand smoothed over his hip, his thigh. He groaned as Sephiroth curved his palm over his ass.

“Pleading, Cloud?” Sephiroth rasped out a chuckle against his ear, dark like midnight and just as dangerous. “Give me more of your pleas.”

Sephiroth’s hand disappeared, and Cloud let out a bereft moan. He couldn’t understand how he’d displeased his god so much that he needed to be punished by the loss of touch.

But then Sephiroth’s hand returned, bare, with no leather glove between their skin.

Cloud shuddered.

Rough fingers ran along the curve of his ass, dipping inward to stroke along his thigh. At the same time, Sephiroth resumed lazily stroking Cloud’s cock, as if he had nothing better to do with his time.

Mutual pursuit of the same goal, Sephiroth had said.

Another shudder ran down his spine.

Sephiroth’s fingers slipped between Cloud’s cheeks in a single, long glide. The callused tips of his fingers ran like pulled silk over Cloud’s entrance, and he let out a shocked gasp, bucking hard into Sephiroth’s fist. The hard drag of leather along his cock was almost too much, and he jerked back to avoid too much of it, inadvertently pushing Sephiroth’s fingers against his entrance.

That stimulation horrified him. Aroused him. Pleasure sparked under his skin like fireworks, and Cloud whined, pressing his forehead against a particularly rough-edged stone. That, too, only magnified the storm of feeling tangling up his body.

He didn’t really know what he felt anymore, just that he wanted more of it.

“Good.” The wicked, crooning drawl of Sephiroth’s voice raked pleasure down Cloud’s spine. Sephiroth had never emoted much—except the rage, Cloud remember the rage, the fury, the hatred, the disdain—but now, he spoke with so much pleasure in his voice. So much anticipation.

One finger pressed harder, pushing into him.

Cloud stiffened and tried to scramble away.

Sephiroth’s fist closed hard around his cock, and the weight of him pinned Cloud in place, but, gods, the combination of pleasure and pain was delicious. Cloud let out a sobbing moan, thrusting hard into Sephiroth’s hand once more.

“That’s it,” Sephiroth murmured, and one finger pressed just barely into Cloud’s body.

The intrusion was foreign, frightening for the alien sensation, but beneath the strange pressure was a delicious feeling of anticipation that made Cloud vibrate. He panted, his hips working slowly into Sephiroth’s hand. The slow push-pull, each retreat pushing Sephiroth’s finger further into him, felt like a drug.

“More, Cloud?”

Cloud’s only answer to that was a strangled moan. He couldn’t manage more.

“We’ll do what we can do.” Sephiroth’s finger drew back as his teeth caught Cloud’s ear. He didn’t tug gently or playfully. But Sephiroth had neither been gentle nor playful. He was a vengeful god; he always had been. Cloud would never expect tenderness from this man, but that was fine. He didn’t want tenderness.

Sephiroth bit down, applying more and more pressure over time, until Cloud’s vision fogged over with speckles and his breath caught in his throat. Only two points of sensation mattered: the visceral ache of Sephiroth’s teeth in his ear and the wicked drag of leather against Cloud’s cock.

Abruptly, Sephiroth released his ear. Cloud groaned, shaking. He heard a quiet hum and then a wet pop. Immediately following that, Sephiroth’s finger, slick with spit, pressed against Cloud’s ass again.

One goal. The same goal.

At first, Cloud thought that shared goal was pleasure. As Sephiroth worked his finger into Cloud’s body, he realized the truth.

This wasn’t about pleasure.

This was about destruction. This was about his destruction, and he didn’t care. Sephiroth wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t tender. He was systematic and brutal.

He worked his finger deeper, stroking, teasing, cajoling with relentless pleasure as he stroked Cloud off. When Cloud got too close to orgasm, Sephiroth’s fist closed hard around his length. The shock of pain knocked him back, but never far. Each time Sephiroth began playing ice and fire over him, he took Cloud one step closer to the edge of a devastating kind of bliss Cloud had started to crave.

Nothing else mattered. Nothing. Not the planet, not Tifa’s past anguish or Aerith’s present hopes. The future lost all its meaning, and the past meant something only because it had propelled him into this present.

Sephiroth destroyed him. That questing finger found something inside Cloud’s body that made him break.

He sobbed the next time Sephiroth denied him an orgasm. Tears burned in his eyes, as much for the same of wanting as wanting itself, and he twisted violently both into and away from Sephiroth’s every touch.

“Burn for me,” Sephiroth demanded, and Cloud did.

Sephiroth cast fire against his skin, and it lit him with blazing light. The materia on his bracer absorbed the damage but did nothing to prevent the flames. They scorched him, devoured him, and his materia prevented what should have been an inevitable demise.

When Sephiroth bit his neck hard enough to make him bleed, Cloud begged for more. When Sephiroth slipped a second finger into him and the stretch became a burning pain that should have been uncomfortable, Cloud pleaded for release.

Words ceased to have meaning. His existence started and stopped with Sephiroth’s hands on his body.

Devastating pleasure crested inside him, bubbled up, spilled over. He came so hard it hurt, too. Everything hurt, but the hurt was so good, so sweet. It swept through him like a tidal wave across the whole of the planet, swamping him, overwhelming him. And then flame followed wave, and what remained of his battered self burned away. He was nothing in the face of Sephiroth’s fire, consumed by it.

In the ashes of ecstasy, he trembled against rocky ground. His cock throbbed with spent pleasure. His body shook. He felt cold and hot and then cold again, barely able to breathe.

“Seven seconds till the end.” Sephiroth murmured the words against Cloud’s ear, and all that pleasure evaporated like so much fog on a cloudless day. “Time enough for you. Perhaps.” He spoke with a wandering tone, a thoughtful tone. “But what will you do with it?” Another dark chuckle. “Let’s see.”

And then Sephiroth was gone, Cloud was alone.

Alone in skin that didn’t fit quite right, with a mind that didn’t feel quite right, wearing clothes that didn’t match him and standing beside friends who no longer occupied quite the same place in his life. He swallowed hard.

Mocking laughter echoed in his head.

#sefikura #sephiroth #cloud strife #ff7 #ffvii #fanfic

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 18

AN: Sorry for the two month wait, but we’re finally back!! I hope this chapter can make up for it!

previous chapter - masterlist - ao3 - my askbox

Aelin had lost interest in the bowl of cereal sitting on the counter in front of her a long while ago. She twirled the silver spoon between her fingers, barely registering the clink of it against the edges of the bowl as her mind slumbered through the chatter between her two roommates.

Aedion had been in the kitchen when she arrived, and Rowan had followed behind her a minute later. Aelin thought it was discrete enough that their timings could have easily been passed off as coincidence, as she had been hoping for the past week.

Concentrating on anything other than him had proven to be an impossible task when Rowan had slid onto the stool at her side, the scent of fresh pine that clung to him wrapping around her and stealing her focus as he murmured a greeting to herself and Aedion who stood across from her groaning at their sink.

She hadn’t been paying attention to Aedion’s muttered complaints, lost in her thoughts of the morning she had spent in bed with Rowan, wrapped up in the hands that now rested on her upper thigh. The heady weight of his hand against her drew flashes of heat along her skin and she dropped any pretence of eating breakfast, the spoon chiming against the bowl as she dropped it.

Her attention was drawn to the scrape of his calloused thumb across the soft skin of the top of her thigh before her eyes pulled back up to Rowan’s.

He offered her a small, sly smirk before dropping his gaze to the low neckline of her nightgown and back up again. A quirk of his lips that told her his mind was right alongside her own, lost in the thoughts of their slow and easy start to the morning.

Rowan had woken her with soft kisses to the back of her neck-the same way he had woken her for the past few mornings-and she had buried her face into his pillow, revelling in the sensation of his lips against her neck and his hands around her waist.

She hadn’t spent the night in her own bedroom for a while, it had been their unspoken agreement to share a bed in the nights following their long-awaited first date and Aelin had no regrets.

Rowan’s bedroom was exactly like him. The dark green sheets and dusky grey wallpaper were offset by splashes of light from rustic brass lamps in the corners of the room, dotted about were stacks of books and trinkets she liked to toss between her fingers as she demanded the backstory for each of them. He didn’t often pull back his blinds, a feature Aelin had never had a taste for until now, but it gave his room a dark and intoxicating feel. It was easy to get lost in the dark space, just the two of them, skin to skin.

His kisses had warmed as she had woken, upping their intensity until he was trailing his tongue up the line of her throat and she was writhing back against him.

Rowan knew how to work her.

He knew the scrape of his teeth underneath her ear would elicit a cry, he knew a tug of her hair would draw out a gasp, so quickly he had learned that pressing his fingers just so would leave her trembling.

Aelin forced her attention back to the bowl in front of herself, dragging her gaze away from Rowan as she grasped the spoon again to lift a mouthful to her lips with a mostly steady hand.

“Do you know where this goes?” Her cousin’s voice now sounded from below the counter, as a tanned hand held a length of pipe above the bench.

“No.” Rowan’s voice was low, sounding bored as his thumb kept up the teasing strokes. “Don’t mess about with it, you’ll make it worse. Call the landlord.”

Aedion sighed as he stood up from below the sink, shooting Rowan an exasperated look. “The landlord is an asshole, last time he came around he couldn’t hold a conversation with me, he was too busy staring at Lysandra’s chest.”

Rowan grunted his disgust and a line of tension ran through his shoulders at the thought. Aelin knew he wouldn’t be likely to call the landlord about an issue any time soon.

“He is an asshole,” Aelin chimed in, ignoring the swipe of Rowan’s hand that left his fingertips resting gently in the space between her thighs. “Can we call someone else? Do we even need to? How hard can it be to fix a pipe?”

Aedion levelled her with a flat look. “Hard.”

At the word Rowan’s hand pressed more firmly against her and Aelin couldn’t help the jolt of her hips, pressing forward into Rowan’s hand, craving the friction, anything to release the pressure building within her.

Rowan only drew his hand back, trailing his fingertips back down the length of her thigh. Aelin fought the sigh in her throat, stamping her teeth down on her bottom lip at the loss.

It hadn’t taken Rowan long at all to learn his way around her body. It was something she both loved and hated, the game they played in his bed of teasing and taunting. She hadn’t experienced it like this before, Arobynn had been a lazy lover, seeking his own pleasure before rolling over and promptly falling asleep.

Rowan had taken her breath away. Pounding into her relentlessly, his fingers gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, his other hand clamped across her mouth, holding in the cries she knew would give the game away to their roommates.

He was tender afterwards, pressing kisses down the length of her spine as she lay sleepy and sated in his bed. He would stroke his broad hands down the curve of her waist as she came down from her high, whispering sweet nothings into her skin.

Aelin loved it.

“Morning,” Lysandra’s voice sounded from behind her, and Aelin managed a welcoming smile as her friend took a seat on the spare stool on her other side, her cousin and Rowan offering their own greetings.

Lysandra dropped a knowing glance to Aelin’s lap, where Rowan’s hand was now barely visible beneath the hem of her baby blue nightgown and Aelin fought the blush that threatened at her friend’s smirk. And the matching one she knew Rowan wore.

It was yet another new side to Rowan she had discovered, the smug side that owned the purely male smiles he wore, dripping in pride at the way she moaned his name, at the way she lay breathless after he had used his fingers and tongue to bring her to her release.

It hadn’t even been half an hour since they had finally left his bedroom in search of food and Aelin was ready to abandon their mission.

“It can’t be that hard,” Rowan said, sounding completely composed as Aelin twisted her hips closer to his hand. He pinched the skin of her inner thigh in response, only hard enough to make her squirm.

“Where did you get that from?” He motioned to the length of pipe clutched in Aedion’s hand. At his shrug Rowan shook his head and continued, “Did you loosen the valve?”

Aedion’s scoff was almost enough to drag Aelin out of her haze. “Do I look like I know what that is? Can you just come and fix it?”

Rowan looked back towards her, eyes shining with regret and a promise for later as he withdrew his hand and stood to approach the sink Aedion had yet to begin mending.

Aelin missed the pressure of his skin against her own but couldn’t say she wasn’t grateful for the clarity in her mind.

“Good morning?” Lysandra asked with an arch of a dark brow.

“I’ve had worse,” Aelin shrugged, tossing her golden hair over a shoulder as she clawed back any shreds of composure she normally possessed.

Lysandra was the only person Aelin had fully confessed the progression in herself and Rowan’s relationship to, needing to speak it aloud to someone in the excitement that had followed their date. Her friend had indulged her, oohing and aahing at all the right moments in her story. Aelin knew her relationship with Rowan was different than it had been before, but she didn’t feel it needed a big announcement to their friends.

Lysandra’s smirk remained as she turned to look over towards where the two blond males stood crouched over the still leaking sink. Aelin allowed herself the luxury of taking in the sight of Rowan in a tight fitting cotton t-shirt, the tanned curves of his biceps, the left covered in striking whorls of ink.

She watched the way his brow pulled into a frown and the way his teeth tugged at his lower lip in concentration as he tinkered with the tap. Her mind flashed with the image of the previous night when he had taken her lower lip between his teeth as he thrusted-

“You’re drooling,” Lysandra stage-whispered in her ear.

Aelin snapped her mouth shut, subtly tapping a finger across the corner of her mouth, more than relieved to find it dry. “I could say the same for you.”

Lysandra cocked her head, “I have no shame in finding my boyfriend attractive.”

Aelin didn’t need to see herself to know her cheeks burned red but she was saved by the sound of Lorcan’s voice from the doorway behind her.

“Don’t fucking make it worse,” He said as he brushed past where she sat with Lysandra to take the length of pipe out of Aedion’s hand, their tiny, midnight black kitten trotting at his heels.

Aelin didn’t miss the grateful sigh that escaped her cousin as he scooped up the kitten and her dark-haired roommate took over the tinkering with their sink.

“You shouldn't have touched it,” Lorcan snapped as he batted Aedion further away from the sink and sunk into a crouch before the counter, her cousin drifting over to stand against the bench next to Lysandra.

“Should be fixed in no time,” Rowan said with a nod to Lorcan as he reclaimed his seat next to her, quickly slipping his hand back onto her thigh. Aelin ignored the smile Lysandra flashed at her, her eyes no doubt tracking the motion.

“Good morning,” Fenrys’ voice broke the easy silence that had fallen over the kitchen. “I hope to the gods one of you thought to make coffee.”

He stood out among the gathering in the kitchen, fully dressed in jeans and a shirt while the rest of the loft wore an array of pyjamas and sweats. Aelin could have believed he was freshly dressed for the day had one side of his golden curls not sat slightly deflated.

It seemed her cousin shared her assessment, “Where have you just got back from? Busy night?”

Fenrys’ smile turned all too sweet as he glanced to where Aelin sat, filling a mug almost to the brim with coffee before taking a long sip. After a sigh, he said, “A gentleman never tells.”

A snort from Rowan at her side. “Shouldn’t stop you.”

“You normally love to brag about that shit,” Lorcan chimed in from his perch under the sink.

“True,” Fenrys admitted with a grin before turning to Aelin. “You really missed a trick with Dorian, you know.”

Aelin grinned. “I’m devastated. Truly.”

Fenrys returned her smile as he slapped his palm against the one Aedion held outstretched at the comment. “I would recommend you give it a go, but I think he might be occupied from now on.”

Aelin opened her mouth, ready to express her happiness at what she knew was blooming between her friends but Lorcan beat her to it.

“I don’t think she needs Havilliard, have none of you noticed her room has been empty for days?”

Rowan’s thumb stilled above her knee.

“What?” Aedion’s eyes flicked to her own as he spoke.

Lorcan rose from the floor, wiping his hands off against his baggy t-shirt, a shit-eating grin threatening at his lips. Aelin stared him down, and she knew Rowan was doing the same.

He cocked his head at her, locks of his dark hair sliding forward over his shoulder. “I have the bedroom closest to their end of the loft, even so I’m surprised none of you have heard the noises coming from Whitethorn’s room.”

He didn’t break eye contact as he revealed her little secret, but Aelin didn’t miss a beat. “If you like listening so much you’re always welcome to join.”

Lorcan shook his head, “I’m good. This loft doesn’t need to get anymore incestuous.”

“What?” Aelin asked, stumped for a moment. “Rowan and I…” She trailed off at the matching grins on each of her roommates’ faces.

“What are we missing?” Lysandra asked, a smile dancing through her words even though she sounded as clueless as Aelin.

Lorcan shifted his attention to her dark-haired friend. “You mean Aedion hasn’t told you how we all met?”

Aelin felt Rowan shaking silently at her side, still gripping her thigh as he reigned in his laughter. The touch had lost its teasing, but she still enjoyed his hands on her, nonetheless.

Lysandra shook her head.

“Let me set the scene,” Lorcan began with a grin before Fenrys stepped forward to interrupt.

“You weren’t there, we had the misfortune of meeting you on Craigslist years later. You’ll get it wrong.”

Lorcan held a hand up in surrender.

Fenrys continued the tale with a smirk, leaning forward against the island in front of Lysandra. “You know your boyfriend met Whitethorn at college.”

A nod from Lysandra.

“Roommates for what?” Her cousin asked, looking at Rowan. “Ten years, nearly?”

“Unfortunately for me,” Rowan muttered but Aelin read the begrudging smile in his voice.

“Now I met Aedion on the football team,” Fenrys told Lysandra, his tone wistful as he reminisced. “He was the year above me, the captain, and sexy as hell.”

Aelin let out a groan as Lorcan raised his brows at her with a nod.

“All blond hair and blue eyes. Good genes Galathynius,” Fenrys continued with a nod to Aelin. “How was I to resist?”

“No,” Lysandra breathed, a shocked smile curling at the corners of her lips.

“Yes,” Fenrys’ eyes were shining with glee as the realisation dawned.

“They sexiled me for almost my entire senior year.” Rowan’s voice rumbled close to her year, filled with reluctant amusement.

“Sorry, man,” Aedion said with a shrug. “Needs must, you know? But then he got far too annoying.”

Fenrys flipped him off over his mug of coffee, his smile still standing strong.

“It was the start of a beautiful friendship.” Fenrys’ eyes were twinkling with mischief and Aelin cackled with delight at Rowan’s sigh.

“And then we met you.” His voice was soft at her side and as she looked to Rowan she knew her own expression was just as fond.

The autumn air of Rifthold had a bit of a bite to it, far cooler than the mild seasons back in Doranelle. In his time in Rifthold he had learned that the seasons were far starker here than back at home.

Summer was clammy and close, spring was fresh and bright, winter; cold and harsh in his lungs, and then autumn. The dimming of the light and the closing in of the nights that were characteristic of a Rifthold autumn were a lifetime away from the year round bright sunshine of Doranelle.

Rowan had had to slip on a t-shirt beneath his usual flannel before leaving for his shift, and even now, deep within the heart of the bar he was glad for it. The cool breeze that drifted in each and every time the door swung open, letting patrons in and out, had him slinging prayers of thanks to his earlier self for the forethought.

The breeze that followed his raven-haired roommate was brisk but Lorcan, as always, was unaffected, clad only in a thin grey t-shirt.

Lorcan slumped into a stool at the bar with a nod, not needing to speak before Rowan had handed over a cool pint. His friend took a long gulp, downing almost half the glass before dropping it back to the bar and releasing a tired sigh.

“I’m going to quit my job.”

Shit.

“Why?” Rowan asked eventually, his tone wary.

Lorcan shrugged, the hand resting along the bar curling up into a loose fist. “A number of reasons.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes. The effort that went into getting Lorcan to open up was comparable to trying to get Fenrys to shut up. “Such as?”

His friend dragged the hand that rested on the bar through his hair, the sable strands drawing back before immediately falling down across his forehead again. A futile, frustrated gesture.

After a moment Lorcan spoke, “I’m not allowed to work under my girlfriend, and this new transfer is boring as fuck.” He took another moment, inhaling a deep breath and frowning. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. It’s not what I expected when I first started, and I don’t think it ever will be.”

Rowan opened his mouth before closing it again, debating his best strategy, and he leaned forward to brace his hands on the bar in front of him.

“Do you want to know what I think, or do you want to drown your sorrows in silence?”

Lorcan shot him a dark glare, but Rowan had been at this long enough to know it wasn’t just an unfounded stereotype of his job. He normally knew at a glance or a greeting whether patrons wanted conversation or not, he could read people pretty well after a few years in this gig, but his friend was far from an open book, and bluntness often worked best with Lorcan.

At his silence Rowan spoke. “I think you should do what makes you happy.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes but Rowan continued. “You know it’s what any of us would tell you.”

“I could have gone to either of the Ashryvers for that shit, seems like Galathynius has been rubbing off on you.”

Rowan ignored the comment, and the hidden innuendo, determined not to let his friend shrug this off.

“And yet here you are.” Rowan mopped up a couple of drops of spilled beer off the bar top before he spoke again. “You’ve been seeing Elide for a while, been in the new department for a while, and it’s been fine. Why change now?”

Lorcan twisted away, taking another long swig of his beer before shrugging his shoulders. Rowan could almost see his reluctance to speak in the tightness of his swallow, the tension running through his arms.

Lorcan sighed, a sharp release of breath through his nose, before turning back to face Rowan.

“You see how Aedion is, he actually gives a shit about what he does. I couldn’t care less about filing reports on petty theft and missing bikes. It made me think.”

Rowan shook his head, fighting a somewhat inappropriate smile. “First of all, Aedion is fucking weird, he thinks marketing is some life-altering necessity that makes the world turn around. Remember when he went crazy trying to sell sponges to men?”

He paused to share a grin with Lorcan. “Secondly, I’m not convinced many people actually care that much about their jobs. I don’t.”

Lorcan finally twisted fully around to face him, his brows drawn in, and Rowan swallowed.

“Bartending was supposed to be a temporary means to an end, I don’t think I’ve found my true calling, but it’s fine. I’m not sure everyone finds that niche that they love.”

His friend’s lips twisted to one side. “But shouldn’t we?”

Rowan waited, sensing his normally stoic friend had more he wanted to say, sensing there was more he needed to say.

“Aedion and Aelin they… They both come back to the loft everyday smiling and jabbering on about whatever they’ve achieved that day. It’s annoying as shit but-” He took another sharp breath, releasing it with an almost grunt. “Shouldn’t we feel like that?”

He didn’t often hear Lorcan at such a loss, he normally stuck to sarcastic quips and snappish barbs and Rowan himself took a deep breath as he considered his response.

Lorcan wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t sure he was right. His job was fine and that was enough. He enjoyed the day to day, made enough money to pay his rent and he got to see his friends while he was on shift. Was anything more necessary?

He took the coward’s way out. “What does Elide say?”

Lorcan saw through him but seemed to let it slide. “Same as you, that if it will make me happy I should do it.”

Rowan nodded. Elide, in the small number of times he had met her, had always carried an air of wisdom around her, a settled confidence in what she did and what she thought. A good match for his friend who could be somewhat challenging at times.

“What will you do instead?”

Quitting his job was fine, but there had to be something else. Was there any point quitting his job only to land back in another mindless routine? Unless there was something else lined up.

“A friend of mine has a private security firm,” Lorcan shrugged his broad shoulders before finishing off his beer. “He’s asked me about joining before, whether I’d give up the force, and my answer has always been no.”

Until now, Rowan filled in the gaps.

“It pays pretty well too,” Lorcan’s voice had taken back an element of his usual dry humour. “Which I’ll need now that the bet about you and Aelin has been called off.”

Rowan flipped his friend off with a scowl, muttering an insult under his breath.

“I was supposed to win five-hundred bucks,” Lorcan revealed, a dark smile brewing across his face now that the conversation was back to more familiar territory.

“Pity.” Rowan snarked as he turned away to serve another customer, stewing on the things Lorcan had said.

Even though he had grown to love the bar since starting a few years ago, surely there should have been some progression as he neared thirty. The role that had seemed to be a perfect fit at twenty-two, the flexibility it offered… it was a good choice at the time. Fresh out of university with no clear plan, the job had landed in his lap. He’d never had to challenge himself.

Not like Malakai, who cared about his business and had poured so much of himself into curating something with an elegant charm out of the dingy dive bar it had been when he had bought it.

The wooden panels of the bar were sleek and smooth after years of glasses and elbows and palms passing over them, the leather of the booths was softened and faded after years of use but it didn’t look shabby. It was a place of comfort and ease, but with a quiet kind of pride about it.

But was it enough?

He returned to Lorcan, sliding another pint across the bar that his friend accepted with a nod.

Rowan knew who he wanted to talk to about the thoughts running through his mind, he and Aelin had barely been dating for a week and he knew he wanted to share these thoughts with her. He wanted her advice and knew he would value any insight she could offer.

Rowan knew she’d listen with an attentive ear, logically sifting through the jumbled thoughts in his brain and shaping them into something decipherable. Aelin was more than her beauty or her sense of humour, she was wickedly sharp and perceptive and smart.

Lorcan raised a dark brow at the intensity of the sigh Rowan let out.

“Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

“No,” Rowan’s answer was short. There was nothing he wanted to share with Lorcan.

His friend shrugged, unfazed at Rowan’s dismissal and he took another swig of his beer before speaking again. “Feels like a time for change, and not just me.”

Rowan cocked his head, it seemed as though Lorcan was in a talkative mood tonight.

“There’s you and Galathynius,” Rowan fought the thrill that ran through him at the mention of him and Aelin as a unit, as a pair, as Lorcan continued. “And I think Aedion’s going to ask Lysandra to move in with him.”

This was news to Rowan. “In the loft, or somewhere else?”

Lorcan shook his head. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t be much different if she moved in with us.”

Lorcan paused, seeming to mull over the possibilities as Rowan was doing. He and Aedion had lived together for so long Rowan supposed he took it for granted to always have his best friend in such close proximity.

It made sense for it to one day reach an endpoint, Rowan just hadn’t expected it to feel so soon.

He glanced back to Lorcan, his friend’s decision still lingering in his mind.

Rowan needed to make sure he wouldn’t be left behind.

Coming home to Rowan was a thought that always made Aelin smile.

There was always a nervous flutter in her stomach as the elevator made it’s ascent towards the loft, the twisting and turning reaching a crescendo as the elevator doors opened, facing the hallway and the doorway that had led her to Rowan only a few months ago.

Now however, she took the steps to her home, smiling at the knowledge that Rowan would be behind the door waiting for her to return.

The elevator doors opened with a chime and Aelin stepped out into the hallway, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder as she made her way home. The hallway wasn’t long and the doors were thin enough that any sounds within the number of lofts on their floor were audible in the open space, usually muffled enough to offer moderate privacy unless the sounds from within the lofts were particularly loud.

The raised voices from within loft 4D were loud enough to carry, but as Aelin slowed her steps towards the door no words were clearly defined. She lingered in the hallway, not wanting to intrude on whatever was going on behind the closed door.

Abruptly, the argument stopped, and Aelin took a step further towards her own front door. She hadn’t yet made it down the length of the hall, her keys still tangled between her fingers, when the door swung open in front of her.

Rowan’s face was carefully calm, but she could see the storm brewing in his eyes, and she could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves. The moment his eyes beheld her the tension leaked out of his body in a flood and a small smile worked its way onto his lips. His gaze softened as his eyes did a gentle sweep of her from head to toe.

Aelin offered him a small smile in greeting. “Everything okay in there?” A nod to the door behind him.

Rowan seemed to shake himself, rolling his shoulders back as he reached her and wrapped his hands around her waist. Aelin relaxed into the touch, loving the feeling of his arms around her and tucking her face into his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and she smiled as she pulled back to look up at him.

She lifted a palm to cup his cheek as she repeated, “You okay?”

“Of course,” He ducked to press his lips to hers for a second, far too brief for Aelin’s liking. She slid the hand on his cheek to cup the back of his neck, holding him to her for a second longer.

Aelin felt Rowan’s smile against her lips as he kissed her once more, his lips parting softly against her own.

“I have to get to work,” He said, pulling back again and sounding far from pleased at the idea, his hands tightening at her waist. “Can we talk when I get back?”

“Sure,” She said slowly, concerned at his request so soon after overhearing an apparent argument between him and one of their other roommates. “Anything I should be worried about?”

Something flickered across Rowan’s face, almost too fast for her to catch, but he pressed his lips to hers one final time before drawing away.

“No,” He said quickly, stepping past her to head to the elevator. “It’s all good, we’ll talk later. But I’ll see you in my bed when I get back?”

Aelin fought the lick of heat that bloomed within her at his words as her lips pulled up into a sultry smile. “I’ll see you there.”

Rowan shot her one last longing glance as he stepped into the lift and Aelin focused herself as she stepped into the loft.

It was quiet now, no sign of the earlier argument that must have taken place close to the now-shut door.

“Hello,” She called into the space, chucking her keys into a bowl on the cabinet by the door and hooking her bag over the coat rack.

“In here, Ae.”

Aedion’s voice sounded from around the corner and she stepped into the living room to see him sprawled across their couch. His defeated expression told her he had been the one she had overheard talking with Rowan and the wary look he gave her as he took her in all but confirmed it.

“You heard that, huh?”

“Yep,” She said, throwing herself into the seat by his side and tucking her feet up beneath herself, resting her head against his arm. “Anything you want to talk about?”

He might not want to talk to her about it, knowing what she was to Rowan, but he was still her cousin and she cared for him. She wanted to make sure he knew he could talk to her.

Aedion blew out a sigh, lifting his eyes to their ceiling. Aelin waited, knowing Aedion wasn’t the type to keep his feelings bottled up.

“Do you know?” He asked at last, his voice carefully measured and Aelin felt her heart stutter.

“Know what?” She said slowly, her heart restarting faster than it had been before.

Aedion winced as she sat up to look at him more directly, sensing she hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

“Know what, Aedion?” She repeated, swallowing the uneasy feeling at whatever was to follow.

“That he’s got a job in Doranelle.”

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen

@maybekindasortaace

@slytheringalathynius

@http-itsrebecca

@morganofthewildfire

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@fictional-horan

@tottenhamboys20

@dressedindustandshadows

@sleeping-and-books

@perseusannabeth

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@superspiritfestival

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

@spyofthenightcourt

@jlinez

@queen-of-glass

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@elriel4life

@bamchickawowow

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@claralady

@illyrianwitchling

@SHINYA-HIIRAGI

@fangirlprincess09

@darlinminds

@bookittothelibrary1

@thenerdandfandoms

@danibutterr

@inthecityair

@autophobiaxx

@imaginedhaven

please as always let me know if there are any issues with tags

#AGKOL #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #lorcan salvaterre #aedion ashryver #lysandra #throne of glass #throne of glass fic #feels so good to be back omg #a groovy kind of love

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cherrywoes · 3 years

Text

dark sun. (ryoumen sukuna x f!reader x oc)

i. ikigai.

— the reason for being; the reason you wake up in the morning.

rating: mature for sexual content, violence, blood, gore, etcetera.

warnings: violence in this chapter, graphic descriptions of viscera and gore, murder.

a/n: i caved and finally wrote it. feedback is appreciated (adored *cough*). next on my list is a chapter for the girl in the foxes’ den. <3

THE SMELL OF BLOOD would make some people gag. But you—sitting complacently in the small, cramped room offered to you by the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College’s higher ups, the only thing they would even deem appropriate to allow you to own—were used to the faint tang of iron, the putrid odor of someone’s bowels spilling out of their body through a horizontal gash between their hips.

It was a regular occurrence, or at least a daily chore, that you had to clean blood out of the tatami mats and replace the shoji doors entirely. Most of your tiny allowance, collected from the bodies of the assassins who had been paid to kill you, was enough to pay for it, but sometimes you had to wonder if it was just as much a chore for the janitors to make the bodies vanish as it was for you to try to get blood out of tatami mats—which was hilariously difficult.

Staring at the decapitated head lying at your knees, you dodged a spurt of arterial spray coming from the stump of the neck, following the trajectory with your eyes and internally withering away as it struck at yet another set of shoji doors, rendering you up to two sets you would be replacing in the next couple of days. Masamichi Yaga would be disappointed in you; at least, you figured he would be. It wasn’t as if he was paying you many visits lately, not with the way your Curse was acting up lately.

Ama-no-Kagaseo slumbered away peacefully in your arms. Held by a sash wrapped around your shoulders and back with Shinto charms woven into the very seams, he was virtually hidden from sight so only you could see the small, chubby face within, and the wisps of pale hair curling at his forehead. He looked almost innocent like this, if you could just ignore the body bleeding before your kneeling form and the way an invisible breeze brushed hair away from your ear to whisper an unintelligible term of affection, as if you were oblivious to his presence.

“Another body, [Name]-san?”

The gentle touch at the back of your neck vanished. You looked over to the now opened shoji door to see your teacher—over qualified executioner, you liked to call her—Fujiwara, Sayaka standing at the threshold. She wore the typical black uniform of the college, personalized into a sleek and form fitting pant suit embellished with charms and cleverly woven Jujutsu spells to shield her from Ama-no-Kagaseo’s temper. While you had never told her they wouldn’t do any good, as he had tore through higher grade spells like paper before, she seemed to be aware of the constant danger she was in by just being around you or in your personal space. Sayaka was sketchy and dodgy at best, but she could match Gojo, Satoru on a bad day, so you trusted in her power at least only marginally. Your fondness for the woman was probably the only thing keeping her alive.

“Yes.” The carefully crafted speech of the Shiraishi clan was something Sayaka hated and you used as a security blanket. The elders couldn’t say anything if you were polite, respectful, and kept Ama-no-Kagaseo on a leash; which was foolish, you’d wanted to tell them, because the malevolent god was not above overpowering you and waking from his sleep if he so wanted. “This would be the sixth one this month. Do they ever run out of bodies to slaughter?”

“I’m afraid not.” The woman’s pale pink hair shone in the sunlight peeking through the broken roof that the assassin had launched himself through. It had been a comical sight; you’d even dropped your green tea in shock, even though you shouldn’t have been surprised with how often it happened. “Well, you can’t stay here—not now, anyways. I’ve been given new orders to secure your lodging on the college campus, effective immediately.”

You raised an eyebrow. You had never been allowed to set foot on the campus ever since you’d taken your position as Ama-no-Kagaseo’s vessel. You vaguely remembered the people there—Fushiguro, Megumi and Panda to name two—and what it looked like, though it had been so long that you wondered what they looked like now. They had been young, like you, when you met them, Panda being an adorable presence that had raised your spirits if only for a little while. Ama-no-Kagaseo was considered a threat to all life and, as such, you had to keep away from the main populace of Jujutsu sorcerers for their safety… or the higher up’s whims. So to hear you were going there, immediately, without question, raised a few red flags for you.

“What’s going on?” You asked, though the demand in your voice was clear. It was something you had picked up from Ama-no-Kagaseo when he had first started speaking to you through your linked souls. Sayaka always seemed unnerved when you demanded something of her, as if seeing something you couldn’t, not that you would be surprised if she could. She’d seen a manifestation of Ama-no-Kagaseo’s essence around you more than once and nearly lost her eye for it; the scar running lengthwise down her face was proof of it. “You know as well as I do that they would never let me set foot on those grounds unless something more important than keeping Ama-no-Kagaseo sealed came up.”

Sayaka squinted at something over your shoulder right as you felt the jade pins in your hair tinkle like windchimes. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

You offered her a sheepish smile. Ama-no-Kagaseo was fond of getting on every single one of Sayaka’s nerves through you, since you wouldn’t let him kill her without shunning him entirely. It was an unusually innocent form of torture for him, one you never took for granted. That didn’t mean that she understood exactly how lucky she was that he didn’t resort to his more cruel methods of torture.

“He’s been calm today,” you said in lieu of reassuring her. You deliberately left out the fact that he was more occupied with playing with the anklet around your sock clad ankle, a Shiraishi family heirloom that hadn’t been worn since Ama-no-Kagaseo had been sealed. The malevolent energy it gave off was distinctly Ama-no-Kagaseo’s and you doubted any of the other women before you had been comfortable wearing it. “You’ll be okay for today.”

“Like that’s supposed to be reassuring,” she scoffed. You had to begrudgingly agree; he had been calm the day he’d given her that scar, although the incident leading up to it had been… extenuating, to say the least. She eyed the still form of his human body in your arms and then looked away. “How far does his domain extend now?”

You recognized the question for what it was: a distraction. Clearly whatever was going on was something you weren’t privy to, or were ever going to be privy to. You pressed your lips together and Ama-no-Kagaseo stopped playing with your anklet to swipe an invisible finger over your mouth, unpleased with your dour expression. You attempted to relax your facial muscles ever so slightly and that seemed to satiate him, because he went back to fiddling with the charms on your anklet. If Sayaka noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“It’s extended.” You adjusted the sash around your shoulders uncomfortably. Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain was not something you wanted to talk about; Sayaka reported everything to the higher ups, and as a consequence, what little freedom you had was suppressed with every little progression that Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain made towards more leeway. You had a feeling that he repressed his malicious urges for your sake, but you couldn’t be entirely sure—he never spoke in entire sentences, just fragments of words and quiet terms of endearment. “I think maybe a few feet. I’m not sure.”

It was more like another mile, rolling his total up to two miles, but you kept that part to yourself. Sayaka seemed to accept your answer, still eyeing the space that the Curse was occupying beside you, and then looked at your kimono like she always did. It wasn’t as if it was exactly normal.

When you had gained Ama-no-Kagaseo’s trust—or affection?—your wardrobe had been sliced to ribbons and replaced with shimmering kimonos of the highest quality silk, imbued with Ama-no-Kagaseo’s Curse energy and embroidered with his personal sigil. You had been distraught over your lost possessions, many of them belonging to your mother, the former vessel before you, but you had grown to appreciate the garments for their beauty and comfort. The silk seemed to have a permanent projection of the night sky upon it so that when you moved, the stars would shift as if in a time lapse recording. Ama-no-Kagaseo only let you remove it when you went to bathe or got ready for bed. By the time you were awake and moving out of bed, the kimono—sometimes a variant with thicker layers or thinner ones—was already wrapped around your body again as if it had never left in the first place.

“I’m guessing you won’t be allowed to wear the uniform,” she sighed, indicating that you’d need to blend in for whatever it was that was going on. “Damn. Okay, well, we can work on that later. Right now we need to get you packed and moving before—”

“Kelp.”

You hadn’t noticed the new presence at the door, or even within Ama-no-Kagaseo’s domain. Your eyes darted to the door, instinctively bristling as if an assassin was awaiting you, and all at once, you felt the temperature in the room—once a comfortable sixty-five degrees—drop significantly. Sayaka’s eyes widened and almost a second too late, she shoved the white haired male to the floor. A fraction of a second later a harsh gust of wind blew the wall behind his head out, the roof slumping down and crumbling into a pile of debris.

“Inumaki-san!” Sayaka growled, gritting her teeth in frustration. She got to her feet and when she was sure that Ama-no-Kagaseo’s curse energy wasn’t fluctuating for another hit, she pulled the male to his feet. He seemed a little shell shocked, or at the very least surprised, and his dark gaze drifted to you in minute curiosity. “Didn’t I tell you not to come in until I explained everything?”

“Salmon. Mustard Leaf.”

What? You fluttered your eyes open and shut in disbelief. Was he talking in… ingredients?

“Of course. I guess I should have expected that.” Sayaka rubbed her face and crossed her arms. Then she looked at you. “Shiraishi-san, this is Inumaki Toge, a second year student. Inumaki-san, this is Shiraishi [Name]. She’ll be on campus for the foreseeable future.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied, feeling Ama-no-Kagaseo’s hostility dwindle with your calming heart rate.

“Kelp.” He bowed his head slightly, but for the most part remained straight and standing. That allowed Ama-no-Kagaseo to calm down completely and you had to wonder why, but your attention was quickly ripped away when Sayaka spoke again.

“He’ll be standing in for me when I am unable to attend to you.”

This was news—frankly shocking news, if you were being honest—to you. Sayaka had not left your side since you were ten. She had to be in her early thirties, your latest estimate may be in her forties, not that she would tell you. She saw any personal information as a weapon to be used against her by Ama-no-Kagaseo. She was adamant that it had nothing to do with you, personally, but the Curse who you carried against your chest as if he were your own child. You admitted it was a smart thing to do, but you also knew deep within your heart that if Ama-no-Kagaseo wanted to hurt her, he wouldn’t need her life history to do it.

“What do you mean?” You inquired, phrasing it as delicately as you could without appearing you were about to fly into a murderous rage. Sayaka was your only friend—not that she’d even let you call her that—in the entire world. You considered Ama-no-Kagaseo a protector, in a convoluted way, and a companion, since he would be with you until the day you died. You couldn’t call anyone else a friend in the way you could her.

Sayaka almost looked uncertain about telling you. She looked to Inumaki for confirmation and he shrugged, indicating the decision was up to her. You watched the interaction with keen eyes, noting the slight familiarity and the way Inumaki was deferring to her with his body language. Clearly he knew something you didn’t, something he shared with Sayaka. Before she opened her mouth, she waved for him to leave the room; obviously she was concerned whatever she was about to say would earn him another blow from Ama-no-Kagaseo.

“Long story short—Ryoumen Sukuna has been incarnated into this era.”

Bound to Ama-no-Kagaseo as you were, you were as in tune to his ‘emotions’ as he was yours. So when Sayaka let that little piece of information hang in the air like a guillotine ready to drop, you felt Ama-no-Kagaseo’s rage bubble up inside you like a potent poison. It was all consuming, hateful, and everything you dreaded when he got truly furious because once he was angry, and you panicked because he would—

And you were gone, taking a backseat in your own conscious. Ama-no-Kagaseo was too infuriated to apologize to you properly, barely managing to even sweep an illusory breeze across your cheek before taking control of your body. You knew he wasn’t angry with you, but this man Ryoumen Sukuna who he seemed to know well that he was beside himself.

Ama-no-Kagaseo had dressed up your shared consciousness to resemble something of a palace of stars and a night sky. The few times he did take control of your body (usually to stop you from tumbling over cliff edges, falling out of trees, or skinning your knees) you were granted access to this mysterious place, and yet it seemed you had a permanent residence despite only being present for a few times. You had a little mat seated beside his at a table; your favorite flowers were littered around the metaphorical palace in porcelain vases; you even had a closet full of star studded kimonos, which was where you assumed he got all of the kimonos he manifested upon your person now.

You appeared upon his throne, which was bizarre since you usually wound up somewhere near the entrance to wait for him to escort you back to your body, a pale metal contraption adorned with blue, green, and purple gems and silk that was smooth and silky to the touch. Since he stayed here often, he had made it comfortable; you had only seen his personal representation of his physical appearance once, and you had been so flustered that you immediately hid your face in your sleeves while he laughed in amusement. Besides that one time, you had only ever seen it in paintings, which were much different than the real—metaphysical?—thing. Ama-no-Kagaseo abhorred earth and for the limited time he was willingly present within it, he was usually only there for you.

A bright blue orb appeared in your lap, hovering just above your legs. You grasped it, worried it would fall and shatter, and found yourself staring through your own eyes at Sayaka.

Her face was contorted into panic and sheer terror. You knew that your appearance changed when he took control—your eyes completely blacked over from corner to corner and appeared as if they had stars in them, and two delicate dark blue dots appeared beneath your eyes to signify your soul and his—but you were curious what you actually looked like. You couldn’t be that terrifying, could you?

“Ama-no-Kagaseo.” Sayaka’s voice was strained. “Where is [Name]?”

That was the first time you’d ever heard her say your name without honorifics. Your surprise must have been evident, because Ama-no-Kagaseo allowed a brief flicker of wind to run down your neck. It was chilly, indicative of his anger, and you pulled your kimono closer around you as if it would help.

“She is present.” That was also the first time you’d ever heard him speak more than a single word. “I am allowing her to watch to reassure her I will not harm you in my anger.”

You would have been dying at his usage of full sentences if you weren’t so worried about Sayaka doing something foolish. You knew she would report this to the higher ups, but you had a feeling this intentional. Ama-no-Kagaseo picked up on your thoughts as well and agreed, gently tugging a jade pin out of your hair. The physical version of you was untouched, but you lost the pin in the metaphysical world.

“I see.” Sayaka carefully sat down, locking her knees and tucking her feet underneath herself. It was the complete opposite of the one she took when you were around. “I’m sure you heard, but—”

“Yes,” Ama-no-Kagaseo interrupted her, using your hand to pick up your discarded cup of green tea. “Ryoumen Sukuna. It has been over a thousand years since I’ve heard that name.”

Sayaka ignored the cup. “I am aware that he played a vital role in sealing you to this realm.”

That was news to you—you seemed to be discovering new things at every turn of the corner. You furrowed your eyebrows and brought your knees up to your chin, watching the globe more intently.

“Not Sukuna himself,” Ama-no-Kagaseo sneered. In your voice, it was a strange thing to hear. “His followers. But he was the indirect cause, so I am attributing the fault to him since I strung their corpses upon his precious temple.”

You could tell that Sayaka found his logic extremely concerning by the twitch in her cheek. A stream of sweat crept down her temple.

“You can’t kill him.”

“And why not?” Ama-no-Kagaseo’s tone went frosty. You watched a shudder roll over Sayaka’s shoulders. “Do not presume to tell me what to do, mortal.”

“He will keep coming back.” Sayaka backpedalled, clenching her fists. “We don’t have all twenty fingers. His host, Itadori Yuuji, is too good of a chance to pass up—if we can get him to intake all of them—”

“You can raze Sukuna from this earth and get rid of him for good.” Ama-no-Kagaseo inferred. “Except it will not be that easy.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Ama-no-Kagaseo didn’t answer her. You felt a telltale pull of your lips and were slowly pulled back into your own body.

“I bore of you,” he said, after a moment, and then allowed you control once more, the darkness bleeding away from your eyes.

You felt him settle into a doze within your consciousness and simultaneously found yourself staring at Sayaka. When you smiled at her in apology, she collapsed back and blew out a harsh breath.

“For a minute there I thought he was going to kill me,” she sighed, then sat up and fixed you with a glower. “You didn’t tell me you could see when he takes control.”

You shook your head and raised a hand, keeping the other firmly rooted against Ama-no-Kagaseo’s physical form’s back. “This is the first time I was able to. I didn’t even know I could.”

Sayaka narrowed her eyes and then looked away, seemingly in thought. “Well, I guess there’s no use in telling the higher ups right now. They have bigger fish to fry at the moment. And it’s not like we didn’t know all of that about Sukuna… Ugh. This is giving me a headache.”

“Me too,” you sighed, unnervingly aware of the way Ama-no-Kagaseo’s fingers were following the collar of your kimono, deceptively docile compared to moments before. He had decided to give up on his nap after all. “So, when do we go to the campus?”

“Right now. Pack up your stuff and meet Inumaki and I outside.”

When Sayaka left the room, you carefully began putting back your tea pot in its box and wandering to find something suitable to put your clothes in. You found a cloth bag, blank except for a few flowers embroidered on it by hand, and had just enough room to pile on your box of jewelry—all of it Cursed with Ama-no-Kagaseo’s energy—on the top. You didn’t have a lot of belongings because of the higher ups, but what you did have you treasured greatly; your favorite piece was an elaborate diadem of foreign make, decorated with diamonds and crystals that were made to turn into weapons if you willed it. You tucked it safely beneath two of your kimonos and found a ring lying on your nightstand where there hadn’t been one before.

You walked over to it, drawn by Ama-no-Kagaseo’s familiar energy. The jewel glimmered with power and visibly made the air around it ripple; you picked it up and found it warm to the touch.

“Protect. Sukuna.” He was back to one or two words again. You were almost disappointed but went back to examining the ring, wondering what finger to put it on. You eventually decided on your ring finger and it was a snug fit, as if it had been made with exactly that finger in mind.

“Thank you, Ama-no-Kagaseo.”

An affectionate ruffle of your hair was all you got in return.

masterlist | next chapter. >

let me know if you want to be on the taglist until the masterlist is posted.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna #oc x reader #fushiguro megumi #i swear to god i have a lot of smut planned for this involving both sukuna and this oc okay i promise it's gonna be wiiiiild #like imagine two godlike entities one of which is an actual god just pining over you #god sandwich yes #goujo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru #itadori yuuji

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merryfortune · 3 years

Text

Covenant of the Gold Spinner

Written for 100ships On Dreamwidth

Prompt #100 Gold

Ship: Classicalshipping | Reiji/Yuzu

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V

Word Count: 4,477

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Rumplestiltskin, Minor or Implied Yuri/Yuzu

Yuzu was getting the distinct impression that it was possible that her father loved her too much. She loved her Father dearly but this was just too much, too big of a lie.

Yuzu’s Father was a miller by trade and by hobby, quite the talker. However, no one would say that Shuzou had the gift of the gab. He just talked and talked and talked, to whoever would listen. He would talk to the birds and the bees, the flowers and the trees. Sometimes he would even get lucky and talk to the other folk of the town but usually he didn’t talk of anything of consequence but the rumour that he had inadvertently started was most certainly of consequence.

He had started a rumour that his darling daughter had quite the prodigious talent: she could spin straw into gold.

Now this was most certainly not a skill that Yuzu possessed. She was quite certain that it was a skill that no one possessed. Not that it mattered much. The rumour had most certainly gotten around and with such a shiny ring to it such as that, it had caught the interest of one of the four princes of the land, the youngest of the four and the one with the worst reputation.

Shuzou could hardly believe his eyes when Prince Yuri turned up on his doorstep, inquiring about Yuzu’s talents. There was a shine of greed to his pink-coloured eyes and he was promising great things for Yuzu should she allow herself to be borrowed by him.

“I desire to see Yuzu’s talents in person, I have a room prepared for her at my estate where she can spin to her heart’s content with your permission and I can promise you, her worth to the kingdom could have great rewards for you.” Yuri spoke. His voice was like silk but Yuzu was certain it was hiding poison.

She tugged on her Father’s sleeve in protest but Shuzou dismissed her, waving her off and grinning, he was too good natured to realise that there was something awry with the young prince. He was too proud of his daughter’s merit, as imagined as it was, that he wanted Yuzu recognised on the grandest stage of royalty - and his old mill could use some repairs so perhaps the prince could have that afforded.

So, Shuzou agreed. He let Prince Yuri whisk Yuzu away without another word. Though her Father did bid her goodbye at the top of his voice, his hand flying through the air with his proud farewells, he had no idea what was in store for Yuzu as soon as she was pulled out from behind the threshold of their house. She was bundled up like hay and packed into a palanquin, taken to the palace where there was, indeed, a room prepared for her. Yuzu was shoved into it, her head still whirling with how she had been stolen away from her home and her father in the brink of an eye.

The room that had been prepared for her was eerily luxe. It was neat and pretty, with rich coloured wooden floors and pale coloured walls that had no windows. It reminded Yuzu of an inn but it had nowhere to rest save the floor. The only item inside of it a wheel with which Yuzu could use to spin.

Behind her, there was a knock on her door but before she could answer it, faceless soldiers stocked her with straw. Prince Yuri watched and he smiled sharply.

“Spin this straw into gold,” he said, warning, “or I will cut off your head.”

Yuzu bit her lip. She frowned.

“You have until morning.” Yuri told her and with a snap of his fingers, the soldiers that had been giving her bale after bale of straw ceased and retreated with him.

The door locked in front of Yuzu. She tried the door but it was useless. She would only ruin her hands if she tried to brute force her way through by scratching it. She sighed, withholding her despair, and looked at the dozen or so bales of straw that she had to spin into gold with her alleged talent.

Yuzu stumbled back to the middle of the room, uncertain what to do, only to collapse in front of the spinning wheel. She clutched onto it and started to sob. She cursed her Father and his idiocy. She cowered in fear from the threat literally looming over her head. She had no idea what to do.

Fortunately, the devil in the room did and he spoke, “I see that you are in a predicament, young lady.”

Yuzu’s blood ran cold as she heard this voice. The tears that had been streaming down her face stopped as he looked. As she listened. She turned her head and towards the front of the room, in front of the door, stood someone who could not possibly be inside of a locked room with her.

He was somewhat tall with grey hair and pierced, triangular ears that jutted out the side of his face. He wore nice trousers and a button-up blouse. He was adorned around the neck with a blood red scarf. He stared at her curiously from behind a pair of glasses. Yuzu swallowed a lump in her throat as she gawked as this youth. It most certainly did not escape her attention that through the cascades of his hair, he had a pair of black horns and a flicking tail with a diamond-like texture to it.

“Who are you?” Yuzu asked, shocked.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Someone who appears before those who are in need of a deal or a trade.” he said and he smiled. “I propose that we make a contract.”

“What are your terms and conditions then, to this contract you think we should make?” Yuzu asked, her shocked expression giving way to wariness. The devil liked that immensely.

“I will spin this straw into gold on your behalf,” he began, “for the price of the ornaments that you wear in your hair.”

“That seems like a relatively cheap contract.” Yuzu said but already, she had begun to take the disc-like baubles out of her pigtails, just in case the cheapness was fairness; she even began to take precautionary steps closer to him.

The devil smiled, “I can assure you, the emotional value of your trinkets have worth equal to my time.” he said.

“Very well then.” Yuzu said.

She frowned as she handed over the baubles that she had once worn. She placed them in the devil’s awaiting hand, atop his pale palm, and when Yuzu did, they disappeared in a burst of lavender coloured flames. Yuzu’s hand flung back in surprise.

“It won’t hurt you,” the devil told her and then stepped around her, she stood, gawking still, “but if you will allow me, I have some work to do.”

Yuzu was mystified as the devil began to do her chores for her. She sat against the wall and watched as the devil fed straw through the spinning wheel and had its transmute into gold. He did so effortlessly, without a wry complaint and the gold that resulted was magnificent.

Even though the day had grown long and the room had grown dim, the gold shone like none other. It practically glowed. Yuzu had been watching intently as the devil spun the straw into gold but she couldn’t believe how beautiful it had been. When he finished, he got up and he put his hand on his heart.

“I must bid you goodbye.” he said, bowing at Yuzu.

“Thank you!” she gasped, eyes wide. She scrambled to her feet and towards him, her heart light with her burden eased and she smiled, “Before you go, I must get your name.”

The devil shook his head, “Names are contracts too and there was no clause in ours which mandates that I must tell you.” he replied.

Yuzu simpered, disappointed by this outcome but her gratitude still burgeoned. She smiled, “Still, thank you, I mean it.”

“Do not be bothered by my departure, I am sure we will meet again soon.” he replied and just as mysteriously as he came, he was gone.

Yuzu could feel the life drain from the room with the devil’s vanishing. It was just her and the piles upon piles of gold - and the spinning wheel too. She felt her heart race in her chest. She hoped that their reunion was not too soon but hopefully, this would be enough to sate the greed in Prince Yuri’s heart. It was late, Yuzu told herself, and so, she curled up on the ground and slept until morning.

She slept dreamlessly and uncomfortably until morning. She awoke with a rapt, thunderous knocking upon her door which scared her. She felt helpless as once more as the Prince and his private guard came to inspect the room.

Prince Yuri’s face lit up in twisted delight as he marvelled at the gold that was present. He could hardly believe his eyes as he admired what was once bales of straw. He grinned in a way which made Yuzu’s skin crawl. He made a superfluous gesture towards her and then made his speech.

“I am impressed,” he said, “I did not think the rumours were true but it appears the truth is stranger than fiction.”

Yuzu glared. She held onto her bracelet for comfort.

“You may keep your head,” Prince Yuri continued, “for now.”

“What does that mean?” Yuzu asked. “I’ve done what you told me to do, so let me go.”

“Oh no, this is not nearly enough, I want you to spin more and more for me.” Prince Yuri teased her. “And this time,” he tilted his head up slightly so he could look down his nose as the terrified but bold Yuzu, “if you do not complete this task, you and your father will be publicly executed for lying to royalty.”

Yuzu gasped, horrified by this demand.

“Understood?” Prince Yuri sneered venomously.

“Understood.” Yuzu timidly nodded and that was the cue for yet more bales of straw to be brought into her room.

Yuzu watched in horror and absolute despair as bale upon bale of straw was brought into her room, until all the floor was stacked with them. It was hard to move, they only really gave her enough space around the spinning wheel where she stood like a newborn deer.

“Until tomorrow morning.” Prince Yuri said and he bid Yuzu goodbye.

The door closed - and locked - with a slam. The silence that ensued was deafening. Yuzu stood where she was, paralysed by fear. If only she knew that devil’s name, she thought as she began to cry, a single tear streaking down the side of her face, then she would be able to call him. Her heart sank and her stomach lurched. She came down to her knees and broke down weeping once more, holding onto the spinning wheel.

After what felt like an immeasurable length of time, despairing for the inevitable killing of herself and her father, Yuzu heard a voice: “Hello again.”

She stopped and her blood ran cold. She pulled herself up and got herself together, clawing at her face so she didn’t look like some pitiable crybaby girl. She looked over her shoulder and the devil was here with her once more. His tail flicked petulantly behind him as he took stock of the situation.

“I see that you are once again seeking a deal or a trade,” he said, “are you willing to make a second contract?”

Yuzu got to her feet and she held her fist in front of her, determined, she nodded her head.

“Excellent.” the devil smirked. “In exchange for all this straw spun into gold, I will take your bracelet.”

Yuzu felt as though her face had been slapped but she mustered a very simple reply to the devil anyway, “No.”

“Oh?” The devil tilted his head to the side. “Perhaps you do wish to die by the prince’s execution, and your poor father too. Or, perhaps, you have decided that you ought to attempt this task for yourself after all, it has been done once, even if it was by me so therefore, it is no longer quite so impossible.”

“No.” Yuzu said again, her heart trembling. She held onto her bracelet. “This bracelet means the world to me.” Her eyes began to water and yet they were fierce. “This bracelet is my one memento of my mother, she passed away whilst I was still an infant.”

“You would prefer to hold onto such a thing… over you and your father’s lives?” the devil pointed out, sauntering closer and he touched Yuzu’s face. Yuzu flinched. The devil caressed her face. His fingertips were cold as ice; her heart leapt to her throat upon his caring stroke. “Are you certain that is a good trade? After all, what good would that item be when you are dead, yourself? No guarantee that your murderers would let you take it into the grave, into the afterlife.”

Yuzu held her breath - and she wanted to hold her ground, too but the devil was right. There was no guarantee that a fraud such as her and her father would be respected so well that their most precious property would go unscathed by their killings. Her bracelet was an item of fantastic emotional value to her, she had always worn it, even when it was too big for her wrist, but it was true. There would be no use to it, no value to it, if she was dead. With a shaking hand and a snivelling expression, Yuzu gave the devil her bracelet, even if it broke her heart to do so.

“A good decision.” the devil praised her.

He accepted the bracelet and it, too, burst into lavender flames that made Yuzu’s hand recoil instinctively. The devil smiled a small, self-assured smile then stepped around Yuzu. He sat down at the spinning wheel and began to get to work.

Yuzu could only watch. She sat with her arms tight around her legs, her chin over her knees. The devil had a steady hand and with it, he did the impossible with magical ease: he turned the bales of straw into ingots of gold and other threads of it, too. Moreover, he was swift at his chore, as well, Yuzu had thought it would be impossible for him to do it but he made great pace.

Occasionally, Yuzu would try to make conversation with the devil, only to be promptly shushed. He was busy at work, after all, no time to talk. Regardless, Yuzu sulked. Or at least, she sulked up until she was too tired to sulk. She wasn’t sure when but she drifted off to sleep, the click of the spinning wheel was oddly comforting. So, she laid down, curling up against stacks of gold and straw that had yet to be transformed.

In the morning, she woke of her own accord but she was certain that the Prince and his guard would be on his way. She looked around and the devil was gone. As was the straw. All there was to remember him by was the gold - and something peculiar. Yuzu realised there was something soft on the ground with her. The devil had placed his scarf under her head, folded it up to be a pillow for her. Yuzu’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected a token of kindness from the devil, at least not one that wasn’t negotiated half to death. She smiled to herself and that smile gave her a little bit more strength which she would need.

Within the minute of her realisation of the devil’s kindness, the door opened. No knock this time and Prince Yuri flounced in. He gasped and exclaimed in greedy awe. His joy was fiendish as he pranced through, disbelieving his eyes but his hands confirmed what he was seeing was nothing but the purest gold.

“Oh, my dear,” he exclaimed, “you have done it again. Wonderful, truly wonderful.”

Yuzu got up and she held onto the scarf, balling it up, hoping that Prince Yuri wouldn’t notice but his eyes lingered on the fabric, probing his memory for… did she always have that on her person? Regardless, he had bigger things to worry about.

“I have decided,” he began, officially, “I want you to be my bride. Should you complete your next task, I would very much like it if we were wed. Then, you can spin all the straw in the world to gold.”

Yuzu grimaced. Her stomach churned. Prince Yuri was a monster, taking what he pleased and threatening her with his power. There was no way on Earth that Yuzu would ever agree to such a wedding but Prince Yuri chose to take her silence as a yes.

Thus, yet more straw was brought into the room. It was piled up methodically, making use of every possible inch of the room until there was more straw in the room than air to breathe. Bales were stacked on top of each other, again and again. Yuzu was all but buried in the room with the impossible amount of straw she was meant to spin into gold.

Locked inside once more, the sound of the door closing at all was muffled by the amount of straw that had been brought inside. Yuzu took a deep breath and her heart raced; her brow came down to a glare and she yelled. She yelled over and over for the devil and sure enough, he did appear before her once more.

In what little space was left in the room, the devil pressed up against Yuzu, his hands outstretched and grappling against the bales of straw. Yuzu felt very small in front of him like this, pinned to the straw and with the devil looking down at her.

“Thrice now, you have been in need of a trade or a deal.” the devil tutted.

Yuzu scowled, “I need the ultimate trade or deal. I’m running out of things to trade with you.”

“That’s quitter’s talk, you still have plenty to offer me.” the devil assured her.

“I want to escape this room. I’ll never see my father again if I am married to that horrible Prince Yuri.” Yuzu said.

“But you still need to uphold your offer to the prince, you cannot let this promise go unpaid. I won’t allow that. The straw will be spun into gold, I will do that for you, in exchange…” the devil murmured as he paused to peruse Yuzu’s person for his next thing to take from her.

“In exchange for?” Yuzu prompted him dubiously.

“In exchange for your firstborn child.” the devil said. “Take my hand in marriage instead, I will return you to your father and whilst I have my own work as a devil of contracts and covenants, what say you? You are after the ultimate contract so I offer you the covenant of marriage in return.”

Yuzu’s guts twisted. To get married to a devil or to get married to a devil. She wasn’t sure which one was worse.

“Well, what say you?” the devil asked.

“Do I at least get your name if I marry you?” Yuzu asked, half a harrumph to her voice, some fleeting bravado.

“Of course.” the devil replied.

Yuzu placed her hands on the devil’s chest and sighed, “This must be the part where I say I do.” She got up on her tiptoes and surprised the devil with a kiss.

The devil’s lips were cold but hers were warm. His eyes were wide open whereas Yuzu kept her eyes clenched shut. The kiss was awkward, took them both by surprise but the devil kissed back gently, easing into it and Yuzu smiled.

Yuzu broke the kiss first but the devil remained close and from his lips slipped his name, “You may call me Reiji.”

“Well it’s good to meet you, Reiji.” Yuzu whispered back.

The devil - Reiji - made an odd noise that made Yuzu laugh. He seemed harmlessly eccentric to Yuzu and he fidgeted with his glasses, excusing himself so he could get to work with the straw now that his and Yuzu’s ultimate contract had been made. He sat down at the spinning wheel and Yuzu watched. She was in a perky mood as she watched, tapping her feet and humming. Reiji smiled a small smile as he listened to her musical habits.

All around them, the bales of straw were transformed into gold but the first sprig of straw that Reiji spun, he stopped. He so easily manipulated it down to a smaller form and beckoned Yuzu closer. Her heart pounded but she got up and knelt by Reiji’s side. He took her hand with his own and then threaded on a simple, gold ring that had a criss-crossing diamond motif.

“With this,” he said, a softness to his voice, “our covenant will be known to all.”

Yuzu blushed and nodded. Reiji leaned over and kissed her forehead. She settled down, changing her position to sit and Reiji resumed his spinning. Yuzu didn’t try to initiate more chatting with Reiji as he was very busy but his presence was a comfort, as was the clicking of the spinning wheel. She tried to stay with him, awake, for as long as possible but as more and more straw was spun into gold, the less time there was in the day and so, naturally, Yuzu fell asleep.

In the morning, she was still asleep propped up by the spinning wheel and even had Reiji’s scarf draped over her once more. She woke up, blurry eyed but calm. She didn’t feel afraid of Prince Yuri when he and his posse made their arrival at the room she was locked inside of.

His eyes were wide as dinner plates as he marvelled at the mountains of gold that were inside of the room with his bride-to-be and the spinning wheel. Even Yuzu had great admiration for the pace at which Reiji worked but she remained on her hackles as she waited for Reiji. He had disappeared but she was certain that he would return for her, rescue her, the feeling of his lips on her own and the ring on her finger was a promise. He wouldn’t violate his own contract, Yuzu was certain.

Prince Yuri clasped his hands together and smacked his lips, “Oh, I hear wedding bells.”

Yuzu’s mouth twisted shut. She scowled, remained firm, but she was begging for Reiji to reappear in the blink of an eye once more. Especially now that Prince Yuri was sauntering towards her. She fidgeted where she stood, afraid of how his hand was reaching out to touch her but intervention struck.

Reiji grabbed Prince Yuri’s wrist and crushed it, “Correct,” Reiji said scathingly, “there shall be wedding bells but not for thee.”

“Reiji!” Yuzu gasped with a smile that was lit up with delight, she clasped her hands together and she knew she was saved.

“It is unlawful and against the contract for two men to marry the same woman, as I have already staked my claim with her, any advance from you would be ill-fated.” Reiji warned Prince Yuri.

Prince Yuri gritted his teeth and tried to rip his arm away from Reiji who was like a vice upon him, “Unhand me, you fie-” Prince Yuri’s words died on his tongue as his eyes travelled upwards and he saw the horns upon Reiji’s head.

“You have more than enough gold in this room to buy a different bride for yourself if that’s what you truly desire but you cannot have this one, she is mine.” Reiji snarled.

Prince Yuri gaped, pathetic. Reiji huffed and he let Prince Yuri go. He held his own wrist, there was frost on the sleeve of his jacket and undoubtedly the marks of a hand on his skin. Reiji’s eyes were cold but they warmed when his gaze flicked to Yuzu.

“Never contact me or my father again.” Yuzu snarled as she hurried to Reiji’s side.

Reiji smiled a covert smile as he let Yuzu latch onto his arm. Prince Yuri was stunned by this turn of events and in just the blink of an eye, his bride-to-be and the devil were gone. It was just Prince Yuri and his endless hoard of gold.

Yuzu was dizzy from the teleportation but she couldn’t believe it. She was home. She stood amid the green grass and the trees, the homestead that she had been born into and had never truly wanted to leave. She felt shaky with her excitement and the door of the house opened. Her Father was bewildered to see her and Yuzu ran up to her father. She gave him a huge bear hug and breathed deep his smell, the smell of their home and her stomach growled. She could smell breakfast in the kitchen and became all too aware that she hadn’t eaten for days.

“What’s the matter, Yuzu?” her Father asked.

“The prince was mistreating me but don’t worry, I’ve escaped.” Yuzu told him.

Shuzou pulled back and he caressed his daughter’s face with a deep expression of rue and regret on his own, “I’m sorry for letting them take you away, I’ve been lonely without you but I had no idea that they could be so cruel.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine now.” Yuzu said and she wriggled out of the receptive hug she had pulled him into. She showed him her hand and glanced back at Reiji who stood, cast aside and awkwardly, “In exchange for my rescue and safety, I’ve had to promise myself to him.”

Reiji approached, trying to make himself seem small so as to make a good impression. Even though Shuzou could clearly see the devil in Reiji, his horns and his tail, he welcomed Reiji into his house, complete with a hug.

With Yuzu returned home and the rumours of the miller’s daughter who could spin straw into gold quelled, Reiji did disappear. He came and went as he pleased, more like a pet cat than a husband but in his attempt to shroud his mystique, his intentions only became clearer. Each stint of absence shortening and what he spent with Yuzu and her father lengthened. He had a job and it was not to grind flour or rice to powder, like Yuzu and her father, but he was still upholding the covenant that he owed to Yuzu. Eventually he and Yuzu welcomed a firstborn child into the world and he was beloved immensely by his unusual, little family and together, they lived happily ever after.

#100ships challenge #classicalshipping #akaba reiji #hiiragi yuzu #yuzu hiiragi #reiji akaba #yugioh #yugioh arc v #arc v #writing tag #i feel particularly proud of this one <:

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chrysalispen · 3 years

Text

iv. never give the heart outright

AO3 link HERE Chapter under cut.

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The day Aurelia Laskaris left Gridania dawned damp and foggy: as mundane and unremarkable a sendoff as one could possibly wish. The heat wave had relented overnight and the wind with it, and the trees’ leaves hung still and sparkling with droplets of dew. Pale rays of early morning sun filtered through the low-hanging wisps of cloud and collected dust motes and small insects in their wake. The quality of it reminded her of L’haiya’s lace curtains, the way their softness and the delicate patterns and filtered sunbeams had always framed the sitting room windows of her girlhood home.

The driver of the chocobo carriage aimed to set out from the city before full daybreak. Thus she stood in drowsy silence along with half a dozen other passengers set to board, watching the lalafellin teamster as he and the Canopy’s porters secured the larger bags. Barring any unforeseen incidents, the carriage’s route would take them south past Quarrymill, through the marshes near old Amdapor, and south into the high desert of northeastern Thanalan until they reached Ul’dah.

It had taken her all of three days to conclude her affairs: there was, after all, no property for her to sell, nor any anxious relatives to wheedle her into remaining.

Watching the small man loop his handfuls of hempen rope to secure over boxes and bags and other people’s assorted belongings, Aurelia felt a certain twinge of wistfulness that she had not expected. The forest city was not quite home, but it had served as the closest thing she had to one for nearly five years. But it was not enough to keep her. The excitement of the road ahead had not left her, and she faced the morning with bright eyes and a clear mind. The sun was up and so was she.

Keveh’to did not share her optimism, that much was obvious with a mere glance. The Miqo’te stood at her side with an expression one could only describe as pained. His ears lay flat against his fluffy hair, and his fawn-colored bottlebrush tail lashed emphatic and agitated beats against her leg.

“I know I’ve asked you half a dozen times now,” he said quietly, “but are you absolutely certain about this?"

Her answer was the same as it had been each time he had asked:

“As certain as I shall ever be.”

“That isn’t reassuring.”

“Yes, well,” she felt a twinge of annoyance at his pessimism surface at last, “as one recalls, ‘twas you who made the suggestion that I consider further study afield.”

"When you told me you’d give the matter some thought, I didn’t expect you to come back to Miounne’s place the same day with a letter of introduction already scripted and sealed.” His arms folded over his chest and he stared up into the canopy. “E-Sumi-Yan must have had that letter already waiting to give to you, whatever he said.”

“Perhaps. It’s not as though he would have told me if he did.” Aurelia looked down at herself and smoothed the pleats of her skirt yet again. All of it, from head to toe, was new. It felt so odd; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had new clothing. “Thank you again,” she continued, somewhat awkwardly. “For the traveling attire. It's quite fine.”

Keveh’to shrugged. A dull rosy flush crept up the sides of his neck. “It’s Ul’dah,” he said. “They’ll toss you out the gates on your arse if you show up looking like a beggar.”

“Hells below,” she tried to make a jest of it with a soft laugh, “you make it sound as though they’ll have a fashion inspector awaiting my arrival.”

“No. But I’ve known my share of that lot, and ‘tis not unlikely they’ll hit you with a demand for a hefty bribe at least once.”

“Yes, I’ve heard stories from some of the others.”

“And for goodness’ sake, Relia- please do yourself a favor and be careful about the company you keep. No one needs to know about you-know-what.” He tapped his temple with a humorless smile. “Ul’dah is a great deal more cosmopolitan than our humble little forest abode, but even they might balk at that.”

The stare she gave him could best be described as obstinate, with the hard set of her jawline. “...I might be ignorant of many Eorzean customs, but I should like to think I am not that much of a fool.”

“I’m trying to watch out for you.”

“Rest assured, I do appreciate the thought.” Still so glum. She frowned at him, “I thought that this decision would have pleased you. You made no secret you were tired of watching me mope about.”

“I- yes. But-”

He opened his mouth, stuttered into empty air, then sighed.

The other passengers milled about them in a somnolent shuffle, muttering to each other and passing bags back and forth. A pair of snowy-haired elezen twins in clothing as new and fine as her own brushed past Aurelia and Keveh’to without sparing a second glance, their identical braids and hair-ribbons stirring in a cool and sluggish breeze from the riverbank. She waited for the pair to pass well out of earshot before she continued, as gently as she could manage:

“This isn’t goodbye forever, you know.”

“I know.”

“They gave me honorary citizenship. I think I’m obligated to at least visit from time to time.” Another jest, one which failed in a like manner as the other to crack his solemn visage. “But I do fully plan on returning once I’ve completed my studies.”

“Right. I understand that. It’s…” His ears swiveled forward, then back, still flattened unhappily against his hair. “...Never mind. It’s not important.”

“No, go on.”

“It’s a trifling personal matter. Naught that you should worry about.”

“If you have something to say-”

That stony stoicism faded at last, relaxing into a smile, but it was as sad a smile as she had ever seen Keveh’to Epocan give anyone. “Matter of fact, I did. Once. But I see now that I’ve gone and waited too long,” he said cryptically. “Saying it now won’t change anything, and I wager I’d only feel worse if it did.”

“I’m sorry.” Aurelia worried at her lower lip with her teeth. “Truly, I am.”

His smile stretched into a grin. It made him look far more like the man she had come to know, the friend who teased and needled her and let her talk herself into momentous decisions. “You’ve no cause to be sorry for anything, my friend. The fault is mine own if there’s fault to be placed. I’m just being sentimental, I suppose. And, mayhap, a touch selfish.”

“Last call for luggage,” bellowed one of the porters. “If ye don’t bring it up now, ye’ll be carryin’ it yerselves! ‘Tis a long road ahead! Last call for luggage!”

Aurelia looked down at herself, then the bags at her feet. She only had the three pieces: her salvaged field kit, her herbal bag, and the pack which held in it those few trifling personal possessions she owned, including her mother’s memento mori. The field kit’s thick carbonweave strap perched on her shoulder, its tripartite-link imperial insignia long since removed by her own hand (Rhaya Wolndara’s angry reaction to the sight of it had been a valuable lesson in precaution) and its once-hefty weight now considerably lightened with even her most conservative usage of its contents over the years.

“Well,” he said after a moment, with transparently forced cheer, “let’s be about it. This lot won’t load itself.”

“The field kit needs to stay with me,” she drew out of reach when he stretched out a hand to take it from her shoulder. “Too many fragile items. Glass and the like. I’ll not trust it to the vagaries of a draught chocobo.”

“Fair enough.”

He picked up the others and made his way toward the waiting porter as the small collection of passengers began to mill towards the slatted steps. A Highlander man drowsed near the front of the carriage, hand wrapped loosely about a wine bottle and otherwise oblivious to the world. Aurelia double-checked the small leather belt she wore to make sure the letters Miounne and E-Sumi-Yan had penned were intact; a fine mess it would be if she were to lose them on the journey.

“Aurelia!”

The matronly Duskwight proprietress of the Carline Canopy stood head and shoulders over most of the passengers, and she quickly drew their attention as she made her way towards the small gathering with a swift and decisive stride. The Garlean offered her a small smile.

“Good morning to you, Miounne,” she said. “Come to see me off, have you?”

“I certainly have. I hope you weren’t planning on leaving us this morning without breaking your fast, girl,” was Miounne’s brisk reply, though she returned the smile as she held out her hands. In them, she carried a steaming tin cup and a small cloth-wrapped bundle. “I set aside one of my eel pies for you. ‘Tis a bit chilly as well, so I thought some hot tea might do you well on the road. Don’t worry about the cup; I have plenty of them.”

Touched by the gesture, Aurelia carefully took the cup and the wrapped pie, one in each hand.

“You didn’t have to do this-”

“I know,” Miounne said, a wry smirk tilting her lips. She wiped her hands on her apron. “But I did. The pie is heavy and should keep your belly full for a day or two. You’ll be changing carriages at the station in Highbridge to the Sunroad trail; you’ll want to get more supplies while you’re there-- make sure you have plenty of fresh water. There’s naught betwixt Drybone and the city save malms of scrubland, and this time of year the water holes will be too low to sustain travelers. I imagine the Calamity will have made the pickings slim for hunting as well.”

Aurelia nodded.

“Once you pass through the city gates, make your way to the Quicksand. That’s where the Ul’dahn Adventurers’ Guild operates; the proprietress’ name is Momodi Modi. I sent word ahead that she’s to expect your arrival within the sennight. All you need to do is give her your name and mine.”

“I... yes. I’ll do that.”

“And please, Aurelia dear- do take care in Ul’dah. It is a very different sort of city from ours. You are a kind woman with the best of intentions and there are those who would…” Miounne hesitated. “...Well. I’ll not fearmonger; I’ll wager you’ve heard enough of that. But I would ask the Twelve to watch over you nonetheless- if that’s all right, of course.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, she watched Keveh’to’s back, the way his officer’s overcoat pulled taut across the shoulders as he passed her bags to the porter, then cast her eyes down at Miounne’s parting gifts.

The sight brought back a memory of the last time she had left behind the familiar to set out for the unknown: fresh from her schooling, set to board a train at the capital’s processing center after she had enlisted in the imperial army. No one had accompanied her. Not to give her well wishes or helpful directions, or even to wave their farewells from the platform as the train departed for the tunnels bored beneath the mountains and into the heart of Castrum Pinnaculum. She had gone to the station alone, had left alone, and for the first few weeks of basic training, she had struggled alone.

But she was not alone now. Perhaps she no longer owned a marvel of a garden, or slept in a fine bed, or wore silks, but since coming to Eorzea she had made more friends in this past handful of years than in the previous decade. That had to count for something.

Aurelia stared into the steaming teacup and swallowed past the sudden constriction in her throat with considerable effort, then looked at the other woman with glassy blue eyes.

“I’d like that,” she said at last. “And thank you, Miounne. For everything.”

Before the woman could muster a response Aurelia had turned away and hurried towards the lowered carriage steps. She didn’t want to lose her nerve or shed tears, not today, and she still had one more farewell to give.

Keveh’to reached the steps first; he plucked the carbonweave strap from her shoulder and slung it over his own the moment she drew near. “Let me pass that up to you once you’re seated,” he said. “You can’t carry both your breakfast and this great bloody thing onto the carriage.”

She was the last to board. The wooden stair was showing its age and it creaked even under Aurelia’s slight weight as she made her way onto the covered deck. The platinum-headed Elezen twins she had seen earlier sat in the back near the cargo across from the last empty space: the one in blue was wholly absorbed in perusing a tome while the one in red dozed upon their companion’s shoulder. Neither of them paid her any mind as she set her teacup and snugly wrapped meal upon the open seat. Nor did any of the others, for that matter.

Mayhap this part was not so very different from that long ago train ride after all.

Aurelia chuckled aloud, though the sound lacked humor, and turned towards the other end of the carriage at the sound of swift footsteps. Keveh’to had come up behind her to deliver her remaining bag. The half-empty imperial field kit, still large and cumbersome for all it lacked much of the weight it once bore, smacked with a quiet dull thud against his thigh with each step. His expression was unreadable as he set it down at her feet.

“Suppose Mother Miounne already said it so I don’t need to,” he said, “but I will, anyroad. Take care of yourself and be careful who you trust. And if there is trouble and you need to leave for any reason, you always have a home here.”

“Keveh’to-” Before she could finish what she had meant to say his arms had wrapped about her shoulders in a heavy embrace, tail wound around her calf.

“Write to us once in a while, will you?” he muttered in her ear. “Just… just so we know you’re doing alright. Even if it’s something about your alchemy that I- I mean, we don’t understand.”

“Or care about,” Aurelia said wryly. She knew full well that Keveh’to was not asking her to write to Miounne. Her arms tightened about his shoulders in return, just for a brief moment. “...I’ll write as often as I can manage.”

“Good.”

The Miqo’te looked for a moment as though he wanted to say - or do - something more, but instead released her with all haste, tail flickering and ears swiveling with his discomfiture as he went. Aurelia said nothing further as she took a step backward and turned to the seat where her tea and morning meal awaited. It was easy enough to spare him his blushes, to pretend that her focus lay upon how best she might secure her bag under the seat. Once that was done she picked up the teacup and took a thoughtful sip, placing Miounne's eel pie upon her lap. She was too full of nerves to be terribly hungry but that would no doubt change within a bell or two.

His retreat down the narrow steps came just in time for the porter to lift and shutter the low-slung door behind him with a brisk snap. Aurelia felt her eyes prickle and burn but her composure held fast, and when she turned about and lifted her free hand to wave at her friend it was with a bright smile on her face.

Her minder - her friend, now - gave only a half-second’s hesitation before he waved back. At his side, Miounne too lifted her hand in silent farewell.

“Quarrymill!” the driver shouted. “Next stop, Quarrymill!”

Following upon the heels of the teamster’s call came the draught chocobos’ twin kwehs. She braced herself and her teacup a moment before she felt the sharp initial jolt of the carriage’s forward motion. Within seconds it smoothed into a sedate and seamless drift as the wind aether filled the balloons overhead, and they were off down the half-paved cobbles that led to the Blue Badger gate. In moments they would pass out of the city and turn onto the southbound road.

For the final time, Aurelia allowed herself a glance over her shoulder, back over the lip of the carriage and in the direction of the Carline Canopy. Keveh’to, it seemed, had chosen to remain outside the chocobo paddock. He stood stiff and unmoving save for the tail that lashed erratically at the air, his hands shoved into his deep pockets and his mouth turned in a downward bow she could see even from here.

His words drifted across her mind like errant clouds.

I’ve waited too long. Saying it now won’t change anything.

She kept her gaze upon the dwindling figure until the carriage had rounded the bend and that splash of bright yellow was no longer visible through the foliage.

~*~

Watching the commotion below from his perch upon a flight of corrugated metal steps, Nero tol Scaeva knew what was coming next. The cohort’s work had come to a screeching halt and several of the engineers had gathered about to investigate the rear quarter panel of the left leg. None of them seemed to know what orders they were to give or be given if any, and the resulting confusion left them milling aimlessly about like ants puzzling at a stray piece of food someone had dropped on the floor.

Thus it fell to him to restore order, as much as he would rather not: his presence alone would subject him to fearful kowtowing and stammered excuses. He knew he could be a hard man when the situation called for it, but he liked to think he was also a fair one, and even the greenest of the signal corps had no reason to fear his wrath so long as they could explain themselves to his satisfaction. Still, he was a Garlean, and the provincial fear of his countrymen was deeply ingrained into the army's conscripts -- ingrained when it was not beaten.

No help for it, I suppose.

He made his way beneath the iron scaffolding that surrounded the warmachina's exoskeleton at a brisk pace. The clatter of his sollerets upon the metal tiling set an easy and unhurried rhythm as he crossed the open floor until his stride slowed to a full stop mere fulms away. The engineers’ chatter, quiet but idle, dwindled into an anxious silence.

One of the engineers, a tiny Auri woman with her lavender-tinted hair bound in regulation braids, went visibly pale at the sight of his approach but to her credit did not make a show of flinching from him, and even had sufficient courage to offer up a salute as was proper. He folded his arms over his chest and peered down at her through the visor of his helm. They stood close enough that he could see how her forearm - still stiffly crossed over her chest - trembled at his proximity.

“Architectus,” he said very calmly.

“Y-yes, my lord?”

“As you were,” she dropped her salute, but her back remained ramrod straight and the tension did not leave her shoulders. He continued as if he had failed to notice, “I mark a number of you performing a very serious study of this warmachina’s leg joint, in lieu of performing your assigned tasks.”

Her swallow was audible even through his helm’s transceiver, but her stone-faced stare did not waver. “Apologies, my lord. There is-”

“I believe I have stated on multiple occasions that we have a schedule to keep, and not a terribly lenient one at that. Perhaps the cohort is in need of a reminder.”

“My lord, please,” the woman blurted, then winced almost immediately, “I am sorry to interrupt. But you see, there’s a problem.”

Shite and swiving hellsfire, if I never hear ‘there’s a problem’ again in my lifetime it will be too soon. Still, unlike sas Junius it was not in Nero’s nature to vent his spleen upon hapless messengers. He released a long-suffering sigh instead - only somewhat dramatized for her benefit - and watched those large ocean-blue eyes break their impasse at the sound. They flickered nervously up at his face, then down, then back out to stare at that fixed point past his waistline.

“Of course there is,” he said aloud.

“My lord?”

His own fault, he surmised, for expecting any other response to his bit of japery. “Never mind. Continue.”

“Yes, my lord. We ran the initial tests using the Vanguard H-1’s specifications, as dictated. The operating system ran as expected upon startup. But when we tried to proceed with full activation... well, we tried to switch over from the H-1 but it caused a power surge and nearly started a fire- as you see here. As it is we’re dead in the water. She won’t power on at all now.”

“I assume our engineering teams ran down their checklists for aught that might have compromised structural integrity, prior to attempting the activation.”

“Just so, my lord. Circuitry, fuel lines, motherboards-- it was all green.” She bit her lip. “If… perhaps we might speak to the quartermaster and requisition another part. Or perhaps a larger-”

“The next step up would be the specs for a low-velocity assault craft,” Nero interrupted dryly. “While I share your readiness to explore all possible options, I think it unwise to blindly run through every single spare part at our disposal hoping for a result. Aside from the obvious risks, ‘tis inefficient. We do not have a great deal of time to make what amounts to an educated guess.”

“I- yes,” she stammered. “I apologize, my lord, I should have thought-”

He waved an impatient hand. She fell silent as instantly as if he had slammed a door shut in her face. “Who is your immediate superior?”

“Valens nan Varro, my lord.”

“Kindly inform him that the activation test has been delayed pending an internal review. We will reschedule after I have spoken with the legatus.”

Now she was staring at her feet, her face pale once again. “...He will be sorely displeased if he discovers we have failed you, my lord. Sorely.”

“Ah, yes. A terrible burden indeed, the primus architectus' personal inconvenience. Unfortunately, we shall all have to bear it,” Nero said briskly. He did not care to argue the matter with a subordinate; such behavior would undermine his authority, and the engineers present were well aware that his word was the final say.

“But-”

“If nan Varro is displeased with the decision and wishes to contest it, then he may take his grievance up with me directly.”

Her shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly, not in relief but defeat. Beneath his helm, Nero raised his brows at the response but said nothing further.

“Yes, my lord.”

“And I expect an incident report on my desk by 0700 tomorrow morning. Posthaste.”

Her answering salute was stiff and formal, expression as stony and unyielding as a statue’s. Whatever emotion he had spied was carefully hidden now; the wall was back in place. Curious. Irrelevant. He had neither the time nor the wherewithal to waste in wondering after it.

Nero passed her without another word, her fellows hastening to clear a path for him as he approached the enormous back leg. There were scorch marks on the edges of the chassis panel, he noted; exposed copper fibers trailed from the opened casing like wilted ivy creepers. The ends were blackened and a thin line of smoke still curled in slender lines; the smell was acrid and familiar and the castrum's ventilation system would disperse it within a half hour.

One hand hovered just over the scorched plate as he studied the sight, with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

Retrofitting Allagan technology was not a precise art, as much as it pained Nero to admit it. Some artifacts worked so readily with Garlean magitek that the process was utterly seamless, as if it had been meant for their hands. Others were far more complex, and thus more time-intensive. The Ultima Weapon had been his longest project to date, and the tribunus laticlavius had to remind himself that the machina had been experimental even to the greatest scientists of its age: a groundbreaking anti-eikon countermeasure that partnered the arcane with the mundane. A seamless blending of aetherology and engineering, borne of man’s ingenuity.

Blended---

Ah.

“My lord?” a timid voice echoed at his back. The engineers were watching him; they had gathered a respectful six fulms away.

“...This is not a public spectacle,” his hand fell away from the plating. “See to this mess. I want the machina checked from top to bottom for aught that could possibly cause further delays. Exposed joints, chassis warping, blown fuses, exposed wires, all of it.”

"My lord, the test-" "Is no longer your priority," his impatience filtered through as a short, barked command. "Attend to your tasks. I will not ask you twice." The gathered cluster of engineers sketched their salutes and scattered like mice, scrambling to obey before any of them could experience the implied consequences for perceived insubordination. Nero watched them in silence for a few beats before taking his leave. He made his way back along the catwalk and up several flights of steps, to one of the administrative bays that oversaw the hangar. Once he was certain of his privacy, he removed his helm with a soft and relieved sigh. It was a mere press of a button after that to open the transceiver link and set it to a specific frequency. Static hissed in the confines of the empty office for one second, two, before the link became stable and there was smooth air and Gaius van Baelsar's gruff baritone:

“State your business.”

“Lord Gaius. Have I interrupted something?”

“Yes, but naught of particular importance. For a small blessing.” The legatus of the XIVth Imperial Legion sounded vaguely put out, but not irate. An encouraging sign which meant he was like to be at least somewhat amenable to the discussion Nero wished to have. “I take it you have something you wished to discuss.”

“I do. The activation test failed. I should have an incident report within the next 24 hours that will list the particulars.”

“Again?”

“Indeed. This is why,” Nero took a deep breath, “I should like to request that the Weapon and all hands involved in the project be transferred to the research facility in Agelyss Wyse.” “The Vylbrand coast? That is not exactly shouting distance from Gyr Abania. And there are certain dangers present which make your proposition quite risky.” Refusal to take risks will not garner the results we seek. "With all due respect, my lord, you did not assign me this project with any fond hopes that I would remain complacent,” he could almost feel his commanding officer bristling at his bluntness, “and these failed tests have made it abundantly clear that - as you will recall that I posited, against protest from certain quarters - ceruleum combustion alone will not be sufficient to bring the Weapon back online. Not at full capacity.”

“What do you propose?”

“I will get to that eventually, but first and foremost: I need data. Current data. Simulations and conjectures will only get us so far.” He glanced out the bay window at the massive machina, a dormant monster, each opened claw the size of a juggernaut. “The Weapon was designed to do far more than subdue eikons, and we have merely scratched the surface of its capabilities. But scratching is all we will manage if we remain here.”

Nero managed - only just - to keep the excitement out of his voice. The Black Wolf of Garlemald was a straightforward man, he knew from long years of experience: interested in results, not theories.

“I understand this, but you are also asking to upend our timetable for the sake of a hypothesis.”

“A hypothesis with its foundation in the methods the Allagans used to create and maintain Dalamud- as Lord van Darnus would attest, were he still with us. I think it a safe assumption that the Ultima Weapon operates upon a similar methodology.” Van Baelsar’s only response was a sigh of consternation. Nero continued, “And yes, it would move our overall timetable forward a few weeks. I admit it.”

“Nearly two months,” the legatus said sourly. “You understand that even if I agree to your proposal, it is not something that can be immediately enacted.”

“I would not expect to presume thus, my lord, of course.” There was bureaucracy involved, and the logistics of moving entire teams between castra -- not to mention the machina itself. Well, Solus zos Galvus had not built the Empire in a day, either. “I realize there are protocols to follow. I only ask for consideration-”

“And due consideration will be given, tribunus- in due time. At the very least I must needs contact the Occidens praefectus and discuss the matter. We will speak on this anon.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He could afford the wait. In the meantime, there was much yet to be done- and new plans to be made. When the legatus called for him again, as he inevitably would, Nero would be prepared to explain what must be done ere their goals could be met. Allag’s mighty Weapon would awaken from its slumber by his hand, and he would receive his fair due at last. There was no one and nothing now to keep him from reaching forth to take what was rightfully his.

This victory shall be mine and mine alone, he thought. And you, old friend, will be as chaff in the wind. Discarded and forgotten.

Beneath his twin veils of tempered glass and chromed crimson steel, Nero tol Scaeva began to smile.

#aurelia laskaris #garlean warrior of light #keveh'to epocan #gaius van baelsar #nero tol scaeva #mother miounne #werlyt cameos sort of?#and the leveilleurs #you get a cameo! and you get a cameo!#this concludes reborn by fire #off to ARR we gooo #upon pale dawns #chapter 4

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catflorist · 3 years

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The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

warning: this chapter contains mentions of death, and also orochimaru displays some possessive behavior over sasuke.

pt. 2: ocean

“You are weak,” Orochimaru hissed, a lazy foot pinning Sasuke’s chest to the ground.

Sasuke glared up at the snake Sannin. “I’m not weak.” In the dim torchlight of Orochimaru’s hideout, his power grew by the day. His new mentor was unimpressed. “You’re not committed. Don’t waste my time if you’re still holding on to your silly village.” He released Sasuke. “You must choose.”

That night, Sasuke saw the faces of the people he had left behind, because the Sharingan kept him from forgetting. But Sasuke had already made his choice. He was already here, wasn’t he? He would do anything to kill Itachi and avenge his slain clan. Nothing else mattered.

He lit a fire in his mind’s eye. Everything burned away, except for Itachi’s face, and the shape of his own hatred. He learned to cut away stray thoughts of his old life, his teammates. He dismissed the time-slipping as a fluke, as inexplicable as the way his curse mark boiled his blood and infused him with strength. As he grew more powerful, the task of rewriting himself became easier and easier, until it was nothing at all. At the hideout near Kusagakure, Sasuke turned fourteen, then fifteen. Orochimaru never called him weak again. Instead, when he looked at Sasuke, his gaze was hungry, like he might consume him. If Sasuke didn’t already know the Sannin wished to claim his body as a vessel, he would have known with one look at his sallow face. The desire was obvious. It grew as wild as brambles around Sasuke. But Sasuke used the thorns as his shield and protection as he cultivated his hatred and his power, clearing a path towards vengeance for his clan. One day Orochimaru led Sasuke to his own sprawling quarters and hissed, “I have a gift for you,” and presented Sasuke a purple obi. When Sasuke knotted it around his waist, Orochimaru trailed a possessive finger over the thick cord. His pale hands trembled. Sasuke pretended not to see. Kabuto called for Orochimaru, and Sasuke was alone in the Sannin’s dark chamber. Dust coated everything in sight except for an ornate vanity and mirror in the center of the room. These fixtures gleamed even in the dark. Askew on the surface of the vanity lay jars of fine white powder, pots of creamy greasepaint, and vials swirling with green liquid, for which Sasuke could name no purpose.

Sasuke dipped his fingers into an open jar of paint. The purple pigment was tacky on his skin, like drying blood. He eyed the collection of brushes Orochimaru used to paint his face. The bristles of each brush tip varied in color and texture. They were composed of human hair. Sasuke frowned, then locked eyes with his reflection in the mirror. For the first time since he had joined Orochimaru, Sasuke had the opportunity to look at himself. The mirror revealed long dark hair falling past his collarbone. A loose, white shirt carelessly flung open to reveal his bare chest. An obi, purple as poison, coiled like a snake around his waist. A dissatisfied mouth, slanting down. Red, red eyes that absorbed all light and reflected none back. In a trance, he pulled his hair back from his face. Itachi peered back at him. Sasuke recoiled and dropped the ponytail. In his own chamber Sasuke cut his hair as short as he could get it with a kunai. When it was done he felt the jagged and uneven spikes and let out a breath. He was not Orochimaru’s vessel. He was not a Konoha shinobi. He was not Itachi. He was his own. . . Sasuke’s old teammates infiltrated Orochimaru’s lair. Through Orochimaru’s network of spies, Sasuke had heard word of Sakura’s healing abilities, and her defeat of Sasori of the Akatsuki. He could not help staring at her, trying to sense the difference. But when her mouth formed the syllables of his name, his ears rejected the sound of her voice. He had not heard any news of Naruto. Sasuke tested his abilities and found him wanting. The encounter was short and inconsequential. Sasuke had done his work well. He didn’t feel a thing. Nothing, not even his old teammates, could keep him from fulfilling his purpose.

Half-asleep in bed that night, he remembered how Naruto’s nose twitched right before he smiled.

Sasuke opened his eyes and frowned at his ceiling, shutting down the intrusive thought.

He remembered another half-forgotten detail. Sakura’s knees bruised easily.

Spots colored Sasuke’s vision. He gasped, fighting a flood of nausea.

Rain pattered upon a wooden roof. The air smelled like salt. Sakura’s hair was long. She said, “It’s you.” By the time Sasuke activated the glare of his Sharingan, he was back in his bed. He shot up, fingers still tingling, far more shaken than he would like. Sasuke had learned to harness the power of his curse mark. He had mastered the chidori, the Sharingan, and all of Orochimaru’s tricks. He had overcome his weaknesses and cut away all ties to his old life. How could this be happening? . . The next time, Sasuke lunged at Sakura even before the tingling in his fingers faded. Sakura let out a grunt. Her forearm blocked his assault. When they made contact Sasuke’s stomach lurched. Her body felt solid and very real.

Sakura sprang backwards and held up her hands. “I don’t want to fight you.” Sasuke darted towards her again. She twisted his arm and flipped him to the ground. His back connected with the floor with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

Long pink hair dangled in his face. He tried to move, but an iron grip pinned him down. “Sorry about that.” She didn’t sound sorry. “How did you get so strong?” he demanded. A small bubble of laughter escaped Sakura. Sasuke’s stomach turned in a familiar falling motion. He lurched up in his own bed, the sound of her laugh ringing in his ears, and spit out a curse.

The last person to pin Sasuke down in a fight was Orochimaru. Two years ago.

When he had attacked Sakura, he hadn’t even bothered to use his doujutsu. He had underestimated her. . . Sasuke knew he would slip again, as if he had activated his Sharingan and seen the shape of the instinct with his own eyes. He prepared himself. As he cooled from the previous encounter with Sakura, he decided it would not be wise to attack her. Instead, he would use the visits to his advantage and gather information. The next time, he was ready. The scent of salt filled his nose. Sasuke was alone in a one-roomed, lofted shack. He rushed to the nearest window. Morning sun illuminated a rocky coastline, which eased into sand and then an endless expanse of blue ocean. Two tall rock formations studded the water and distant mountains cut into the sky. This landscape appeared nowhere near Konoha. Sasuke released his grip on the windowpane and assessed his surroundings. The room was bare save for a table, a bookshelf, and two chairs positioned next to the small hearth. A row of large seashells decorated its mantle. He caught a glimpse of bedding tucked away in the loft high above his head. A dark cat dozed on the kitchen counter next to a stack of wooden bowls. The door creaked open, inviting a gust of wind into the room. Sakura halted in the doorframe, carrying a wooden bucket heavy with seawater. She wore loose pants and a man’s shirt. A diamond marked the center of her forehead.

“Sasuke,” she greeted, brow furrowed. A strange expression—something he couldn’t name—rose then fell from her face.

“Am I not who you expected?” Sasuke bit. Sakura’s mouth twitched. “Not quite.”

“Where are we?” he asked. “My place,” Sakura said, shutting the door with a swing of her hip. She set the bucket on the floor. The dark cat slunk down from the kitchen counter and leapt into Sasuke’s surprised arms.

“Her name is Hime,” Sakura said, as the cat made herself comfortable on his shoulder, as if she were royalty.

“Why is this happening?” he demanded. But with a cat purring next to his ear, he imagined he did not form the threatening picture he wanted. Sakura validated his concerns by asking, “Do you want some tea? Or if you’re hungry, I collected mussels. They’re best when they’re fresh.” He snorted. “You’re already here, aren’t you? Might as well enjoy yourself.” She smiled. Her fingers twitched. “Unless you’re interested in another fight.” Sasuke’s fists clenched. I am here for information, he reminded himself, and took a reluctant seat at the table. Sakura poured two cups of tea, though he had not asked for any, and sat across from him. Sasuke asked, “What year is it?” The cat sprang from his shoulder onto his thigh. Sakura named a date five years ahead of his own. “Where are we?” She smiled. “What’s happened to the village?” Silence. Konoha might have burned to the ground, or Sakura might be Hokage. Sasuke could not read her. Another question burned in his throat, one he had not planned to ask, but it escaped him anyway. “Do I…” He swallowed. “Do I kill Itachi? You must know.” He thought her eyes saddened. Or maybe it was the light. “Answer me,” he snapped. Sasuke had spent nights envisioning what might happen the next time he slipped—the questions he could ask Sakura, the knowledge he would gain. But he had not considered the simple possibility that she would resist answering him. He had not foreseen the cup of tea steaming before him, the cat curled in his lap. “I’m sorry you’re hurting so much,” she said. Sasuke shot up, jostling the table. His teacup toppled over. The cat let out an unhappy cry and darted out of sight. “Don’t act like you know me,” he spat, blood rushing to his head. He was speaking to the shadows of his empty room. . . Sasuke returned to this Sakura at the seaside time and time again. It always happened when he was tired, half-asleep, his guard down. He worked himself to the bone, hoping fatigue would fend away the unwanted journey. It did not. Sasuke bombarded her with questions. Sakura responded with jests, frustrating half-truths, or silence, until Sasuke stopped asking. He had failed to adopt Orochimaru’s slick and persuasive nature. Any information he learned was at Sakura’s mercy. Sometimes when he arrived, Sakura was making breakfast. Feeding the cat. Sitting by the hearth, playing a game of shogi with herself. “Tea?” she asked, each time.

Sasuke would slam the door on the way out. If he couldn’t control his visits, he could at least limit his exposure to Sakura. The wooden shack was perched on the first patch of firm ground by the water. He stared at the ocean until he slipped back to his own time. His visits were brief, until one time, it wasn’t. Sakura was up in the loft, folding her bedding. She fluffed a pillow and made no comment at his appearance.

Sasuke dodged the cat’s affections. He sat cross-legged against the side of her small home and waited for the vertigo that meant he was on his way. Half an hour passed, but it did not come. At the sound of a creaky door, Sasuke opened his eyes. Sakura strode outside with a wooden bucket. “You’re still here,” she observed. Against his better judgement, Sasuke spoke. “I’d rather not be.” “You look tired.” “It’s the middle of the night,” he insisted, squinting in the morning sun. A bird chirped cheerfully in the middle of his sentence. “Well,” Sakura said. She situated the bucket on her hip. “Don’t let me keep you.” This concluded their second-longest conversation. Sakura walked down to the tide pools, waded calf-deep in the water, and collected mussels. He was still here when she returned, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the stone path. Water sloshed from Sakura’s bucket. “Are you hungry?” she called, already smirking in anticipation of his refusal. He glared. Sakura was not done. She touched a finger to her chin. “You like sitting here. I’ll build a bench,” she decided. “Don’t,” Sasuke advised. Next time, a bench waited outside her house. The material was the same smooth wood as the house, though Sasuke didn’t see any hardwood trees around. He scowled, but he sat down. The cat joined him, then Sakura joined him. “When was the last time I was here?” he sighed. “Three days ago.” Sakura set an extra cup of tea between them, which Sasuke ignored. “And you?” “Last night.” He rubbed his temples. “And the night before that.” “No wonder you’re tired,” she said, scratching Hime between her ears. Sasuke sprang a question. “Why aren’t you in Konoha?” “I like the ocean,” Sakura said, without skipping a beat. “Since when?” he muttered. They had seen the ocean together once, on their first mission. He didn’t remember Sakura making any particular fuss about it. The half-smile on her face faded. “I’m here because I’m waiting for something.” Something in her voice made Sasuke’s head turn. He allowed himself to really look at Sakura, to see what she would be like in five years' time. Her hair was long again. Her limbs were wiry and powerful emerging from the men’s clothing she now wore. Her chin was just as delicate as he remembered, her eyes just as green, reflecting the sea. “What are you waiting for?” Sasuke asked. The rocky ceiling of his chamber gave no response. . . On Sasuke’s sixteenth birthday, Orochimaru procured another gift for Sasuke. He held out a thin wooden box and opened the lid for him. A delicate wooden comb lay in its plush interior. “For your hair,” the Sannin said. Sasuke nearly smiled. He was unversed in the finer details of gift-giving, but even he knew that kushi made inauspicious gifts. “Don't worry about good or bad luck, Sasuke-kun,” Orochimaru assured. He grasped the comb and ran a thumb across its slender wooden teeth, producing a musical vibration. “We won’t need any of it.” He stepped closer and ran the comb through the front lock of Sasuke’s hair. He was gentle, practicing ownership of his future vessel. Sasuke froze through the first stroke of the comb, and the next. Then the fine teeth snared on a tangle. Awakened by the twinge of pain on his scalp, Sasuke pulled back. The hairs stood up on his arms. Orochimaru would soon try to claim him. But Sasuke was stronger than Orochimaru. He fell asleep that night thinking about his next steps. He woke up and blood was dripping from his eyelashes, clogging his ears. He retched at the scent, acid rising to his throat. He saw his parents’ slumped bodies. He saw Itachi’s red eyes. He heard every sound a clan made as it was slaughtered, then the terrible silence after the screaming had stopped. His fists clenched in his blankets, but his fingers closed around sand. There was an ocean in front of him. Sasuke was chest deep into the cold water when he realized he was not splattered in the blood of his nightmare. He plunged under anyway, because he still felt unclean. He floated in the darkness, his body bobbing with the tide. After some time, his lungs panged in a distant way. He opened his eyes, feeling the burn of the salt. The pain in his lungs worsened until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Sasuke broke the surface and gasped for air. When he emerged from the waves, Sakura was waiting for him on the beach. She held out a blanket. Leave me alone. Sasuke opened his mouth to spit out the words. But he hesitated. Accepting Sakura’s blanket changed nothing in his own time. It would only make his existence a little warmer and drier for the time being. Nothing he did here in this dreamlike world changed anything at all. Sasuke wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. It was soft and heavy, and smelled of something fresh. Dimly, he remembered this was Sakura’s scent. He dropped to the ground to ease the shaking of his legs.

Without a sound, Sakura sat next to him. She did not touch him, did not look anywhere except the water. Sasuke dried his face, then ran his fingers through the cool sand, grounding himself. All was quiet except for waves crashing against the pair of rock formations.

As he was slipping back, she spoke. “Take care, Sasuke-kun.” Sasuke fell into a dreamless sleep. In the morning his clothes were stiff with seawater, flecked with salt and sand. Something hard and round pressed against his palm. Sasuke opened his fingers and discovered he was holding a pebble. Its surface was smooth as water, and it was the same color as the moon. . . It was another night, and instead of sleep, Sasuke was pulled to Sakura. She joined him outside. The morning sun shimmered on the water. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Like usual, she offered Sasuke tea. As Hime purred against his leg, Sasuke’s fingers wrapped around the cup. “Hm,” Sakura said, watching him. “If I remember right, this is the last time.” “The last time?” Sasuke repeated. “The last time you’ll come here.” She took a sip of her tea. “It’s not the end, though. You’ll see me elsewhere. In other times.” Sasuke remembered the other Sakura he had met, the first time he had slipped. She was crying, and Sasuke had held her hand. He had tried to forget. But that wasn’t the first time. An old dream—what Sasuke thought was a dream—came back to him in a rush. A woman with pink hair had given him breakfast. She was pregnant. Her baby had kicked. Something must have shown on his face, because Sakura said, “I know this is strange. It’s been strange for me too.” “You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much.” Though he tried, his voice had no heat. “Yes,” she said. “I know why this is happening.” “How do you know?” he asked. Maybe he asked the right question, because for once, Sakura gave him a blunt answer. “I know because you told me.” Sasuke’s throat went dry. “Sakura—”

He didn't know where he was going with that sentence, but it didn't matter. He slipped away. . . . .

Up next: Sasuke forms his team, learns the cause of his time-slipping, and makes some decisions.

Notes: Combs (kushi) are considered bad luck when given as gifts--"ku" means suffering and "shi" means death. This chapter and chapter 7 are my favorites, so I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you did!!

late update bc I was swept away celebrating how trump was voted out of office!!! he can now f*ck off :)

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ss fic #ss #my ss #my fic #the time being

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