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satancopilotsmytardis · 3 months

Text

Hunter's Favorite

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @zehei, Tomura has been an intergalactic poacher for a good long while now, and when a potential job comes through that's for a big payout only four hours from where he currently is, he decides to look into it. But red flags start to blanket the wintery forest as he realizes the barely classified creature that he's been sent after seems far too sapient to actually be an animal. For his part, Dabi is just desperately trying to find what he needs to ensure his next heat doesn't kill him.

Contents: Sci-fi bullshit, Alien!Dabi, Hermaphrodite!Dabi*, descriptions of violence and (brief) vomiting, non-human anatomy, mating cycles/heats, size difference, size kink, scent kink, cum inflation (brief), belly bulge, eggpreg, egg laying, infertility, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, wet and messy, courtship rituals, mating bonds.

*Author's note: I am using "Hermaphrodite" rather than intersex because Dabi is not human and his species is able to produce both male and female gametes throughout their entire lifecycles unless they use medicines to stop that process.

Word Count: 22,357

Days camping in the wilderness have never exactly been Tomura's idea of a good time, let alone the wilderness on foreign, barely settled planets looking for a creature that could very well already be captured or dead. But that is what he finds himself doing as he lands his ship and starts to make his way outside. Ipra 309T is a small earth-like planet, which is a stroke of luck for him because the last one he was on had dangerous amounts of sulfuric gas making up the atmosphere, and the one before that had dangerously high spikes of radiation. Ipra 309T is a hospitable planet that in all likelihood will see a settlement brought to its surface within the next few years once the current groups of scientists finish surveying the land.

He makes sure that he has all of the gear he needs for his stay, however long that will end up being, and leaves his ship. The cloaking device only works when it's stationary, but after the past half an hour of scanning the area, it's taken in the environment and is able to mimic it effectively, turning all but invisible to the naked eye, certainly invisible to most animals that may come across it while he's gone. Camping. In a snow covered forest. Great. Tomura is already bundled as tight as he can be and he is already wishing that he hadn't taken on this job as he starts to walk away from his far more comfortable vessel. If he were a lazy poacher he would just send out drones to look for the creature and stay in his ship, but the effectiveness of that kind of behavior is always far below what he feels like he's able to achieve by using more traditional methods. And if he wants to bag this little beast then he is going to have to be as effective as possible.

Tomura starts to hike towards the place where the animal-- if it is an animal at all-- was spotted last. Ipra 309T hasn't been fully surveyed yet, and the first reports that scientists had given were that there weren't any sapient species on the planet. Which would mean settlers would be welcome to come and stake their claim on the land as long as they did so within interplanetary immigration guidelines. And then someone came across a pack of eight small bipedal creatures. The early reports said that the creatures had white skin and hair with long pointed ears with tufts of fur sticking off the ends and thin tails with prominent tufts at the tip as well. Their sharp claws on the hands and feet, and the mouth full of jagged fangs were very effective against the skin of humans and Varquix, because the two scientists who had come across the pack had immediately been set upon with such viciousness the human had all but dragged their companion away while he held his intestines inside after being gutted. Not a particularly good first encounter, but not that unusual. The problem is that no one has been able to get close enough to the intensely violent and territorial creatures to actually determine if they're people or animals. The other problem is that someone from Proximacard, the company that sent the scientists here to study the planet, had also gotten away with an egg from these creatures, clearly classified as BMN-019, which had been broken at some point. The embryo had, of course, not been viable, but regardless of whatever could be discovered from that, the shell itself had been exquisite. The palest blue in color on the outside with irregular rippling patterns across the surface that flashed like mother of pearl and and inside that, as it oxidized, started to glow, making the ripples along the surface cast faint patterns of the shining rainbow that had been compared to the northern lights on Earth. And the shell had 'gone missing' only for new jewelry that was worth a fortune to crop up among the most elite in two star systems, only a few pieces, but enough to have made the theft more than worth it for the person who orchestrated it.

And that person had reached out to see if he could find someone to get more of the eggs, if not the creature themselves, hoping they could induce the laying in a sterile environment. It was a job that no one was particularly eager to take up after the early reports on the viciousness of the creatures, but some leak in Proximacard's system made mention of one of the BMN-019s that was seen roaming alone, smaller than the others and with patches of dark blue fur and skin across its body. It was unclear if it was a juvenile or if it was exiled, but it would be worth finding out. He hadn't known if he would want to bother with this job either, given the cold, but the reward for bringing it in was enough to make him go to this planet to potentially freeze to death, especially since he was only four hours away from the location when the message came through. That would all but guarantee that he would be the first one here to try and capture the creature and he was hoping that would better his chances.

He hikes for the better part of two hours to get to the area where the creature was spotted, the forest not unlike that of a pine forest on Earth, though these trees drop seed leaves year round, the pods pale and mingling with the snow. That only means that he has a better idea of how to survive the natural environment as he finds a place that has a good vantage point and starts to go about setting up his campgrounds. The goal, aside from not freezing to death, is to be as unobtrusive as possible and be able to get the creature to come close enough for him to subdue it and get a translation collar around its throat. If the creature can talk with it on, then he'll know its a person, not an animal, and that means he can warn it that slavers will be after it and that it should probably go with its pack to the surveying crew and try to be registered as a sapient creature and the dominant species on the planet to protect them from being hunted and sold. It's not much of a boundary given the other animals he's captured and sold throughout the years, but it is better than nothing. At least he doesn't trade in people.

Tomura sets up his camp and scatters some sensors in a mile radius around his tent, cloaked just like his ship, so that he'll know if anything enters the area. And then he returns to sit and wait. Even with the best winter gear that he can buy, he is still loathing that he bothered to look into this job and subject himself to this awful cold.

///

Dabi wakes just before dusk and stretches his tail flicking and his ears twitching as he listens to make sure nothing is out of place around his den. There shouldn't be any, not when he's made his home so far away from the village and anything else that might want to make a meal out of him now that he's alone, and he's pleased to not hear anything that might indicate an animal has found its way to his den. He stretches and looks down at the thin bedding that he's been able to gather so far and knows that it won't be nearly enough when his cycle hits in a few weeks time, not only that, but there is a hollow aching in his stomach from not eating the day before. Ten months since his exile and he still can hardly feed himself. If he doesn't manage to make his hunting and gathering pay off soon, he doesn't think he'll survive his next heat.

He slips out of the sparse scattering of leaves that have been serving as his nest and makes his way out of the cave he's been calling home, using his claws to grip onto the sheet of ice that reformed overnight. This section of the mountain doesn't have much in the form of readily available resources, but it is just outside of the place the hunters tend to venture, allowing him to sneak along the border taking whatever he can, as well as ensuring that he is far enough away to not be noticed. Maybe someday he'll have the energy to move further east where food is supposed to be more plentiful, but for now, this is all he can manage.

Dabi moves down the side of the mountain, swapping hopping from boulders and snow mounds, up into the trees and moving through those instead. His coloration makes this marginally safer than just darting over the ground, but the white patches of his skin and fur are certainly not the perfect camouflage. Still, he can't change that, and he has to hunt.

He doesn't like to fish the river. Zerads, reptilian semi-aquatic animals with powerful tails, taloned front legs, and sharp teeth, tend to swim in small packs through it, and being alone means that he's an easier target for them to pick off, especially since his shorter reach means that he can't scare them off with his claws when he needs to. But the fish are the most readily available source of food that he can get as it is, and he needs to eat something today and every day as he works his way towards his cycle. If he doesn't-- Dabi shudders to think of the horror stories he was told killed their layers during times of famine. Eggs not forming correctly, eggs shattering inside of the layer's bodies and piercing them with the sharp fragments of shells leaving them to die slow, agonizing deaths. He has managed to avoid those things so far, but he needs to make certain that he's getting the food he needs if he wants to keep avoiding that. If that means risking fishing the river and forcing himself to eat the fish, then he doesn't really have a choice but to try it.

Dabi is about to climb down from the trees to start his fishing, when he spots tracks in the snow. He frowns and slinks down a bit further to try and get a better look. His fur bristles. The rounded toe and strange regular, intricate patterns that are pressed into the ground are not the same as the other kinds of these prints they started finding around the village a year ago, not the shape of any creature's natural foot and that makes him bristle. His ears twitch, listening all the more carefully to hear anything moving around him, but only the light breeze through the trees and birdsong in the distance. He was already being cast away when the tall creatures came into their neighbor's territory and stole the eggs from their brood layer. But from what he heard along the edges of things were that they had strange flesh, and that they left tracks in the snow with no toes. Great. Just what he needs, another potential predator to deal with. Dabi hisses at the footprints as if that will make the frustration disappear, before he continues along the bank of the stream. He doesn't see any signs of Zerads for the moment and perches on the edge to watch and wait.

It takes the better part of the night, but he manages to spear three large fish on his talons and that take is a relief. He carries them back to his den and tucks himself into the sparse nest. The fish taste foul, he has never liked fish at all, and their bones aren't going to offer as much nutrients as he is likely to need when it comes to being able to form a healthy eggshell, but he needs anything he can get and he forces himself to take large bites and only chew enough not to choke, swallowing the mess down as quickly as he can. The egg he managed to lay last cycle casts the images of his pack along the walls, but it doesn't really make him feel any less lonely as he sits in the thin layer of needles that is nothing like the nest that they used to make for his mother or Shoto.

///

The next evening he wakes again, not ravenous thanks to his meal the night before, but with the knowledge that he has to go on a proper hunt today. He needs to eat real meat, he needs real bones, and he is so small. He slips from his den and goes through the trees again, this time moving away from the river to try and find something he can pounce on from up high. His people can climb, but they usually choose to hunt on foot, fanning out in a semi-circle and closing in on a target when one has been located. Dabi can't hunt like that, not only because he's alone, but because his strange coloration means that he isn't nearly invisible in the snow. He blends in better up in snowy branches and he only has a chance at catching something if he takes his prey by surprise. So he learned how to climb the trees better than any other Salkeh and now he can dart through the branches looking for his prey.

He has to travel far from his den to find what he's looking for and it is a miserable realization when he finds a small herd of Vaak curled up and sleeping. There are three babies being guarded by their mother, the animal quadrupedal with thick gray-brown fur, large sharp antlers, sharp beak, and sensitive large ears. He knows if he moves any closer, if he tries to pounce with her around, she will wake and attempt to gore him. He doesn't know if he's fast enough to kill one of the babies and drag its body back up into the trees to feast on, especially not since the babies are nearly the same size as him and he really has no hope of carrying that corpse above ground all the way back home.

Which means he has to stay until the mother leaves in the morning to go find food for her young. His instincts rebel at the thought of not being in his den for the entire day. But this could be a proper feast for him and the bones will help his egg form so much better. He fights his instincts, resigns himself, and stays where he is, curling up to sleep until the sun rises. Hopefully the mother will leave then and he'll be able to kill the babies before she can return.

///

Tomura camps for two days, learning through his sensors that this quiet forest is teeming with life. There are a variety of small creatures that live in the trees, many more that roam the forest, but so far none of them have been the BMN-019 that he is looking for. He, thankfully, determines this from his tent where he is doing his best to try and convince himself he doesn't hate the cold more than he hates, well, anything else in the entire universe, but still. It's not until the third day that the sensor by the river goes off and as he checks the scan that it made of the creature's body, he finally gets the jolt of electricity that goes through him when he's found his target. The image the sensor is able to project is only of the creature's silhouette but it matches what he was told to expect for the most part, though seeing the creature in three dimensions shows him just how small it really is. It barely would reach his waist if he were standing beside it. He supposes that would put him right at disemboweling height the way the first scouts were. Still, that is good information to have.

The sensor indicates that the creature stays for a few hours, but it is pitch black outside. He is not about to go trekking through the snow in a dark forest, alone, on a foreign planet. That is a recipe for getting himself killed and losing his target forever. If the creature goes to the river to eat, then he can hike closer tomorrow when the sun is high and prepare to keep an eye on the area closely enough to actually act if it comes there again. It is another miserable night to sleep in the cold, but he will certainly need the rest for tomorrow, so Tomura forces himself to settle.

In the morning, he gathers what he needs and then hikes out to where the sensor indicated. He stays down wind of the tracks and near the tree line, trying to ensure that the creature won't spot him as he waits and watches to see if the being will show itself. The day passes without the target showing its face, but as the sky grows dark and he feels the stirrings of his exhaustion starting to pull at his senses, Tomura gets his first glimpse of the creature. Through the night vision goggles, he can't tell the exact coloration of the creature, but it does have darker patches across its body that he was told to expect and it is very small as he watches it climb up into the trees instead of going to fish the river again. He tries to move through the forest beneath it at a safe distance. It is even harder to do when trying to keep from being smelled or spotted, but if the creature leaves the canopy, then he can use his tranquilizer gun to knock it out and restrain it. When it wakes he'll try speaking to it and determining if it's a person or an animal.

The creature moves through the trees gracefully, its long claws catching the bark as it jumps from tree to tree, its tail streaking behind him and lilting this way and that to help him keep his balance as it moves. Tomura watches closely and carefully, taking note of how it moves and how quickly a casual pace is for the nimble creature. He has no doubt that it will be much faster than him if it wanted to run. It searches the forest, hunting, Tomura thinks, as he recognizes the randomness of how it scans the environment.

It finds what it's looking for after a few hours, and Tomura lingers a good way outside of the creature's range of hearing as he sees it settle into a tree above another small group of creatures. He tries to look up the designation of those, but Proximacard's public records for potential settlers are abysmal, and he can't get into the classified ones without his ship's computer. But the animals on the forest floor are sleeping in a tight bundle and his target watches them, pacing along a branch for a moment or two before he decides to settle into the bows of the tree, seemingly to sleep. Tomura can't allow himself that luxury, and he settles to watch the creature through the frigid night.

///

It takes until two hours after sunrise for the mother to leave her babies, and even then, Dabi waits another hour, his stomach hollow and gnawing again, before he thinks it will be safe for him to drop onto the nest. He can't eat all three of the Vaak in one sitting, but he will try to kill as many of them as possible. If he does then he can butcher them for the richest parts of their bodies, gorge himself on what he can eat, and then drag back whatever he can't. He moves along the branch until he is just above their nest bracing himself for the fall. The babies sleep soundly in the snow.

He drops down, his weight, even so slight, from that distance is enough to crack the spine of the one he lands on top of which begins to scream its agony. But it doesn't manage to move, so Dabi ignores that and instead goes for the other two that are starting to thrash and try to gouge his flesh with their beaks. But his soft fur is much tougher than it looks and the attacks slash, but cannot pierce without them putting the force of a true bite behind it. He twists to find the throat of the second baby and sinks his teeth into the flesh, tearing out the throat and pulling away to find the third before it can even gurgle its last breath drowned in blood. He knows it will die, and he needs to ensure he takes the third as well. That one he throws his body on top of as it tries to flee the nest, stabbing his claws through its ribs and rending its insides into shreds. It collapses beneath him and the one that was screaming its pain only screams for a moment longer before he returns to it and snaps its neck completely. Dabi licks at the blood on his mouth, satisfaction humming through him, as he sees the feast he has made for himself. He listens carefully to ensure the mother isn't rushing back to her nest, and when he doesn't hear any movement but the breeze through the trees, he separates the bodies from each other so that he has room to work.

If he were home, if he had a pack to keep him safe, he would be much more meticulous in skinning his kills. but right now he just wants to be certain that he eats his fill and has the best parts to bring home with him. He uses his claws to carve the muscular back legs off, the thick bones inside will be full of marrow and will make the consuming of those more pleasant. He opens the chest cavities to find the liver and takes the bulk of fat and meat from the abdominal section as well, getting many pounds of it that he knows will be very hard for him to take back home with him, so he eats that first. Dabi barely chews, knowing that will make it take longer to fill his stomach, and the meat is so slick with blood anyway that it goes down his throat easily enough. The more he can get inside before his body feels full, the less that he will have to waste or carry back with him.

He is about halfway through the first body before there is a distant click and then a sudden, sharp thud against his thigh. Dabi yelps, startled, whipping around with his teeth bared to try and find whatever hit him. But there isn't anything that he can see. Still. He doesn't like that and quickly checks to ensure that his fur beneath his skin is unharmed before he pulls back and gulps down two more large fistfuls of meat before he grabs a section of one of the baby's intestines. He squeezes out as much filth from them as possible, and then he uses those to lash the legs together so that he will have an easier time of carrying them. He still doesn't hear anything, so he climbs back up into the tree with his spoils, and starts to make his way back home, hoping to get there before the fullness sets in and he's able to sleep for the rest of the day, knowing he won't be hungry for the next several.

///

Tomura sits back in shock as he watches the tranq dart hit the creature's back flank and bounce off into the snow. He ducks lower in his cover as the creature, small and definitely his target with its patches of dark and light fur, whips around to see what hit it, but the dart is lost in the thick red-stained snow. When the target doesn't find an obvious source of the pain, it goes back to its food. From just watching the creature, Tomura can't determine if it is more or less animal than he was expecting. He only knows that it is particular about the sections that it eats. It's not until a few minutes later as he watches it use the innards of one of its kills to tie the limbs it selected to take with it in a bundle, that Tomura starts to lean towards this being a sapient species, and not an animal. Using tools is not always a clear indicator of a species having human-level or greater intelligence, but it certainly lends itself to that interpretation. The target goes back up into the trees and despite his exhaustion, Tomura follows after it again. He wants to know if this creature has a den, or a pack, or anything that could help him understand it better.

They trek back through the forest, back to the river, and then he watches from the denser forest as the creature scales the side of the mountain, moving through snow and rock until it slips away into a little crevice in the stones and Tomura loses sight of it. Well, that is something, he supposes. He knows now, at least generally, where the creature is making its home. He goes back to his campsite so that he can sleep after such a long day and dreads his next steps. He may not be certain, but he is more suspicious of this creature being part of a people, not an animal , and that means that he not only won't get the payout for this job, but he will have to decide if he's going to risk trying to make contact with it, if only to tell the creature what danger it and its species are in if they don't get registered by someone as a sapient species.

He would much rather go back to his tent to sleep, but instead he hikes all the way back to the carcasses that the creature left behind, the mother of them nowhere to be found. He goes to the bodies and carves out as much additional meat as he can, getting a few pounds of it that he knows will keep in the cold. Then he heads back to his campsite and packs that up as well before moving it much closer to the river and where the creature makes its den. It's only once he has all of that re-established that he makes himself sleep, already dreading the next few steps he has to deal with in this situation he's found himself in.

///

Tomura ends up having to wait another day and a half before the creature comes out of its burrow again. It goes off into the trees and he slips out of his tent to leave some of the strips of meat near where it climbs down from the mountain. He also makes sure to leave a strip of cloth that has his scent on it. There's about a fifty-fifty chance that makes the creature start to associate him with food as a provider or as a potential target, but he would rather get the target to start smelling him a bit. Maybe it will make him less likely to tear out his entrails when he does end up having to approach the creature.

After another hour or two, it comes back, hesitating in the canopy as it spots the meat. It watches and waits for forty-five minutes before it carefully moves down the tree and over to the pile, ears rotating as it listens for anything beyond the sound of the rushing water. But it investigates the meat, finds the cloth and gives it a sniff, and then takes that along with the large bundle of seed pods and pine needles back up to its lair. Tomura is starting to wonder what else he could leave there for it that might tempt it to stay longer, but after about five minutes, the creature comes back down the side of the mountain to retrieve the food. It snatches it up quickly and darts back up the side of the mountain and he's glad he has more of it.

This routine continues for three more days. On the first he leaves another bit of the meat and another little piece of cloth for the creature before it leaves its burrow for the night, and when it comes down the side of the mountain it paces around for a long while before it takes a chunk of the meat to the river. It catches a fish with it and Tomura's stomach sinks as he realizes that it was testing it for poison, as it makes the fish eat the chunk and then keeps a hold of it in the water. It hangs on for half an hour before it seems to determine the fish is not going to die unless its claws sink in on accident, and it leaves the fish be before gathering the cloth and the food and going back up into its den. It doesn't come back out for the rest of the night.

On the second he leaves what is left of the meat and a small sensor. He doesn't know if the creature will figure that out or not, but if it takes it into its burrow, then Tomura will be able to see if there is a whole pack waiting inside. He watches and the creature ignores the offerings tonight, instead going to the forest and gathering more plant matter before coming back and picking up the meat. It pauses as it finds the sensor, tapping at it, even biting on part of the edge and Tomura is mildly dismayed to see that corner shatter right off. The creature spits and sputters as it tastes the metal and plastic and lobs the whole thing into the river before it takes the meat and vegetation up to its den.

The third day, though he loathes to do it, he gives up one of his thermal blankets. He has more than one, and he takes the one that he's been sleeping with and that has been saturated with his scent to where he has been leaving his offerings and then sits, just on the edge of the treeline, only hidden enough so that he doesn't think the other will spot him immediately when it comes down the slope. And he waits again.

The creature comes down, investigating the blanket and not treating it as if it's food, thank god. Instead the creature starts to make small soft chirps and purrs as it picks up the fabric and bundles it to its chest. He can see the creature smelling it, its tail swaying softly over the snow as it closes its eyes and presses its face into the fabric. Tomura is struck with how cute the creature looks as it does so after seeing how vicious it was in its hunting before. He hesitates, but he shifts slightly, making himself a little more visible and the creature's head snaps up out of the fabric, its big, bright blue eyes scanning the area and locking onto him quickly.

It bares its teeth and hisses, "Egg thief!" Short, sharp guttural sounds that Tomura can't understand before it drops the fabric like it's burned him before it darts back up the side of the mountain and disappears again.

Well. He can't say that went exactly as planned.

///

Dabi watches from the edge of his burrow as the egg thief waits about an hour before moving over to the bundle of soft, warm hide and begins to fold it. He doesn't know what animal it was made of, but it felt so good under his skin, smelled good and masculine the way the other little hide strips that had been left with the food from before did, and his stomach sinks. He had thought... he had thought, just for a moment, that he was being courted by someone. That some other exiled or lonely person had found him and was trying to give him food and materials to build his nest so he might be more inclined to let them join him when his heat comes. But instead the egg thief, one and a half of him tall and still would be towering at least two heads above even his father, with its thick blotchy skin and reflective insectoid eyes, had been trying to trick him. The thief makes the hide neat again and then goes back to the trees. Dabi watches him until he cannot see anymore, and even then, stays perched in the entryway for the rest of the night, ensuring that the thief does not come back. When the sun does finally rise he goes to his half-formed nest and starts to eat again. He got so much more food, both from his main kill and from the thief bringing everything he couldn't take as offering, but he will still need to go on another big hunt or another few smaller ones before his heat comes. He had been so excited about the hide, it would have easily filled out the rest of his nest, but now he will have to work twice as hard to get everything he needs so that he doesn't die during his heat.

He eats and forces himself into a fitful sleep when the sun rises. Tonight, he decides, he will finish his nest, with or without that hide.

///

When Dabi wakes again he pokes his head out of his burrow. The hide is where it was before and he scans the trees to try and find the thief for a few minutes before he darts back down and snatches it from the snow and brings it back up. He shakes the thing out, trying to find anything in it or on it that may be dangerous, but all that does is kick up the air around him and leave his burrow soaked in the scent of the thief. It's a shame that he smells so good, like crisp water and a musk that speaks of being a hunter that makes Dabi feel the first stirrings of arousal. He pushes that away and tucks the hide all around his nest, so big and soft that it fills it out perfectly and makes it much cozier. He wants nothing more than to get right back in, but if he wants to have his heat be perfect, to make it easy after the last one nearly killed him, he needs to do more.

Dabi goes back out and spends the rest of the night gathering more and more of the seed pods to break, opening them letting piles and piles of white fluff come out that he can stuff under the hide to cushion him from the floor and keep him and his egg as warm as possible even as he will be sweating to cool off desperately. The one thing he will say for being on his own, is that no one seems to be hunting this narrow strip of territory, so finding places where piles and piles of them have gathered isn't very hard.

He brings them back and growls when he sees the thief, a blotchy white and gray dot on the edge of the trees again, and it stays where it is, even lifting an arm to ensure that he has taken notice.

"Leave!" Dabi snarls in the creature's direction, holding his pods tight, debating if he should attempt to kill the creature or if he should continue hiding in his burrow. He doesn't know if that thing can climb with its thick, nubbly fingers and feet with no toes or claws to grip the ice and stones, but the rumor had been they also travel in pairs. He doesn't know if he's seen one or two of the creatures, but the hide only smelled like one.

"I don't mean any harm." The voice that comes out of the creature is even more unsettling because it doesn't have a mouth. It makes sounds that are too regular, that must be speech of some sort, but that Dabi cannot understand, and it does so without a mouth. He doesn't think that it’s an unfair reaction for that to frighten him enough to dart back up to his den as fast as he can possibly go. The thief doesn't chase after him, but he stays in the clearing for hours after Dabi has hidden himself away.

///

The next day the thief is gone. Dabi combs the area, he smells around and finds the place where his scent goes strong enough that he thinks the other may have made its own den, but he doesn't venture too close, afraid of getting trapped on the ground. But the scent smells a little stale, and the day after that it is even fainter. Fine. Maybe he moved on. Dabi certainly has to if he wants to get the food he will need to push him into his heat that he can feel getting closer by the day. He tries to hunt, but he doesn't have the luck he did before, and before the night ends, he's back at the river, doing his best to snag a few disgusting fish to just ensure his stomach stays full.

When he wakes again, it's with him coming sharply out of sleep with panic roaring through his veins as the smell of burning fills his den. Oh stars, oh no, no, no. Dabi keens mournfully as he leaves his nest, his den, his eggs behind as he runs out of the cave, needing to get as far away from the forest fire as--

He bursts out into the sunlight, and there is smoke on the air, but the trees are not burning. Instead, down below, the egg thief has a small fire, contained in a circle of stones, and beside him is the carcass of a full-grown Vaak. The egg thief looks up at him as he bursts out into the sunlight and lifts its hand again.

"Good morning."

Dabi cannot understand the words any more than he can the sight laid out in front of him and he stares down at the egg thief. The creature has removed the outer layer of its face, and he distantly realizes that must have been a hide or something that he was wearing over his head. Because he does have a real face, eyes that remind Dabi of his own though they are smaller and the color of blood, his hair is long and white, but it has been tied back into a bundle at the back of his head, save for a few wavy sections that spill over his face. He has a nose and lips, but his ears are smaller and stuck to the sides of his head instead of the top, and they do not twitch or rotate the way that Dabi's can. He has markings, but they are smaller than Dabi's own, just some texture across his lips and around his eyes, and two short little stripes over the side of his mouth and one eye.

The thief lowers his hand and pulls a stick out of the fire, then sets it to the side. Dabi watches as he moves over to the vaak's body and carves another section of meat from its corpse using a sharpened something that shines brighter than even Dabi's jet claws. He then pulls the chunk from the stick and the bloody piece and looks back up at him, offering both. He stares and after another second the creature speaks again,

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come here and have some food." The words are foreign and confusing, but the tone he uses is low and soft, only just loud enough to carry to where he is perched, and he knows that tone from how his mother spoke to his younger siblings. Does he think that he is a child that he can steal away?

Dabi hisses at him. "Go away!"

The thief tosses the two pieces of meat up the side of the mountain, to on top of one of the boulders that make up the rocky face a few feet below him. "There's plenty for you to eat if you come down to see me."

He's torn between hissing at the other again, possibly leaping from the stones and trying to get his claws and teeth into his throat and watch the blood gurgle there until he chokes on it, and... accepting the... courting presents. That must be what these are. Only a potential mate would bring things for his nest, would bring him food, would talk in that tone of voice? Did the thieves realize they couldn't steal away the eggs, so they decided that they would court a mate for them instead? Dabi hisses at him and stomps his way back into his burrow to go to sleep.

Some thief. He curls up into a tight ball in his nest and tries to go back to sleep, his nose still filled with the scent of the strange creature. He clearly doesn't know that Dabi is alone because he's not worthy of having a mate in the first place.

///

Tomura keeps the fire going and he slowly butchers the animal he caught the previous day into neat sections. He carves away the legs and breaks them down at the knee joint so that the thick flanks are separated from the thin ankles and hooves the way he had watched the target do with the babies. He takes out as much meat as he can and separates the liver as well. It's cold enough that the corpse will keep for days, and the smoke of the fire, rather than attracting any other creatures, seems to have very effectively scared them all off the way that his target had looked so frightened as it came barreling out of its den to the smell.

Tomura has a miserable knot in his gut throughout the day. That creature made different sounds at him when he tried to coax it closer with the food. Not just hisses or growls, it had very clearly waited for him to finish speaking and then deliberately articulated, his ears pinned back and his teeth bared in a snarl. He can't pretend that this isn't a person anymore, but that just makes this all so much worse. Other people won't care, they'll do their very best to hide that fact for as long as possible, they might even try to figure out how to lobotomize the creatures when they get them into captivity so they'll just be egg producers for anyone who wants to indulge in the beautiful shells. He is a criminal on thirty planets for the animals he's hunted, but at least he knew those were animals. He hasn't ever done something so vile to a person, and the thought of leaving the strange, vicious, fluffy little creature to suffer whatever fate the next poacher inflicts on it is not something he can stomach either.

It's a few hours after sundown when the creature reemerges from its den and it pokes its head out, sees him, and actually hisses this time, his ears pinned back and his tail whipping around behind him. Tomura wishes that he could just use the translator himself, but if this is a completely unregistered species, then it won't have the first clue how to translate his language for him, the model not nearly as advanced as others on the market because he hasn't ever needed a more sophisticated one.

"I have more food." He offers calmly. The creature hasn't tried to attack him yet, and he moved into the center of the snowy field, far enough from the mountain and the trees so that he's certain it won't be able to pounce on him from above like he saw it do when it hunted before.

"Go away! I'm not a mate!" The creature pairs the words with a big arm motion, trying to shoo him away. Tomura ignores that and gestures for him to come down, then picks up another piece of meat and offers that. The creature looks at him incredulously, stomps one of its feet and huffs before it moves parallel to him until it can jump from the edge of the stones into the nearest tree, then it disappears again. Tomura leaves the meat behind, puts on his goggles so he can see, and follows after it.

He doesn't bother to sneak this time, just staying a few yards behind and keeping one hand on the hilt of his knife just in case it lunges for him. But otherwise, when the creature carefully descends from the trees to start to gather even more of the seed pods, Tomura starts to do the same. Mirroring is something that many species do to show that they're not threatening, and he hopes that his mirroring will help to make the creature less frightened of him. The small creature spots him doing that and glares at him.

He's much closer than he has been to his target before, and he can see human-like features in the set of its face. Its eyes are larger than a persons and its irises are such a bright blue that Tomura doesn't think he's ever seen that color occur naturally before. It has a small pointed nose and thin well-defined lips that cover the sharp teeth when it isn’t sneering at him, all of them sharp but its incisors are much larger on the tops and bottom of its jaw. The fine, tough fur that covers its body is littered with patches of dark blue under its bright eyes, across its cheeks and down the lower half of its jaw to his collarbone, along its arms, stomach, legs and chest, more dark patches than light and it sticks out fiercely among the snow. It has four fingers on each hand and three toes, long black talons curving off of each like a raptor, the back of its ankle even has a larger dew claw that he has seen the creature use to grip onto branches and stones. Its tail is long and thin, topped with a thicker tuft of longer fur, and its head has hair, not just fur, a shaggy mess of it that looks like it was hacked into the spiky shape around its head and spilling over its forehead and cheeks by the creature's claws. And it really is so small. Maybe four feet tall. Tomura is almost never the tallest human in a room, but he feels like a giant when he looks down at this creature.

His target hisses at him again and makes a shooing motion and Tomura shakes his head and offers it more of the seed pods. It huffs, takes what it's gathered, and climbs back up into the tree instead. That's fine. For now, Tomura has the time to be patient.

///

It takes another three days. Every evening when the creature emerges from its den, Tomura offers it bits of the frozen carcass, and he can see the creature's resolve starting to waver at the massive feast that is being offered to it. But it tries to tell him to leave anyway. He stays. He brings more of the seed pods too, he digs through his things until he finds another blanket, not a thermal one, just a thin, small scrap of fabric that he hasn't used in years, and he offers that as well.

And it takes three days, but the creature finally huffs, paces around, and eventually descends. It still skirts around the edge of his little area and Tomura tries to seem calm and relaxed, very carefully gesturing for it to come closer as he offers some of the meat. The target stays back, darting in just close enough to grab one of the legs instead. It goes halfway up the mountain again as it starts to eat and Tomura lets it do so. He watches as it sets into the frozen flesh ravenously, crunching through the bone and swallowing the marrow and shards as easily as the meat. It manages to eat the entire thing, looking up at him constantly like it's waiting to be attacked, but Tomura just keeps trying to be calm and unthreatening. The creature eats the leg and then eyes the other butchered pile of meat. Tomura offers it again,

"You can have as much as you want."

The creature looks nervous and tired, but it comes a little closer again and takes the frozen liver. That was the only specific organ he noticed missing in the babies, and Tomura hoped that would be its favorite. It takes that and gobbles it up as well and Tomura waits. It slinks over to the river to drink, keeping one eye on him the entire time and Tomura watches quietly. There are another few minutes of time that pass, but the creature does eventually come a little closer, keeping the fire between their bodies.

He lifts a hand and presses it to his chest. "Tomura."

The creature considers him for a long moment, then mirrors the motion, "Dabi."

And Tomura is finally able to breathe a little easier as he offers the blanket too.

///

He doesn't understand why the thief, Tomura, seems so bound and determined to court him, but after days of him sitting outside of his burrow and the feast he procured a constant offering promising Dabi that his heat will not be one of misery, he finally breaks and goes to actually get closer to the other creature. Tomura moves slowly and carefully, like he is trying very hard not to spook him, like he's a frightened animal, but he wonders if the size of him is what makes that a necessity. He's so large compared to others of his kind and he clearly is a skilled hunter to have taken a Vaak alone and without claws or sharp teeth. They sit together for a few hours and the thief periodically offers him more food. Dabi declines. He would love to gorge himself, but he can't let himself relax that much.

About halfway through the night, Tomura very slowly reaches into a pouch on the side of the hide that he is wearing over his body and Dabi bristles, but he pulls out a strip of cloth that has a darker square of what looks like the same material as the hard puck that had been left with the second offering of the meat. It's not something that he recognizes and Tomura holds it between his strange hands. He lets Dabi examine the cloth from his side of the fire and then brings it up to his neck, miming adding it to what he is already wearing before pulling it away from his neck and pointing to him.

For him. Something to wear. Dabi wonders if this is a courtship item from his culture, if the puck was too. He isn't certain that he should accept it when his eggs will never be fertile. If the creature wants to be his mate, then he should know that. Dabi shakes his head. He doesn't know how to tell the thief that he isn't worth the time and effort that he is putting into this courtship. He puts his hand low on his pelvis, where the pouch of his egg will form as he gets into his heat and he whines softly, shaking his head again.

The thief frowns at him and puts the hide back into the pouch and then offers Dabi more food. It would be sweet if it weren't so sad. Dabi takes that offering and then leaves the fire, going back up to his den, but Tomura calls after him. He half turns to look and sees he's offering another hide, a bigger one like the one he's already added to his nest. Dabi's chest tightens so sharply. This creature is trying so hard to be a good mate. He carefully approaches, still worried that he might lunge for him. But Tomura offers him the hide, letting go of it when it's in Dabi's claws, and he pulls it to his chest. It doesn't smell as good as the other did, it's not as thick, but it's still too much to give someone like him.

"You should leave." He tells the other, putting the hide back on the ground between them, and using his other hand to try and shoo him again. "I can't be your mate."

Tomura very deliberately shakes his head. Dabi churrs, huffs, and goes back up to his den.

But Tomura is still there and waiting for him the next morning.

///

He offers the scrap of hide for the next day and a half, and no matter how often he rejects it, how frequently Dabi tries to tell him to leave, even resorting to throwing handfuls of snow at the other to try and chase him off, the thief doesn't waver. And the longer he lingers, the deeper that a warmth starts to bloom in his body, telling him again and again that he needs something, and that something should be a mate now that he has plenty of food and a warm, safe nest for his egg. It's those instincts he has been trying so hard to ignore that have him reaching for the hide. Tomura confuses him when he withdraws it, trying to get him to come closer.

Dabi is still wary, but he moves so that he's within arm's reach of the other creature, his claws ready to go for his throat if he tries to harm him. Tomura mimes wrapping the hide strip around his own neck again and then gestures at Dabi. Oh. He hesitates, his ears pulling back and his tail flicking wildly, but he forces himself to tilt his head back and bare his throat. Tomura moves very slowly as he leans into his space and Dabi gets a stronger whiff of his scent, the warmth of his skin sending him purring softly even through his nervousness as he prepares himself to attack if this is a trick. The thief brings the hide around his neck, and the bit that was like the puck is heavier than the scratchy hide. He slots it into place and there's a soft whirring sound that comes from the thing that Dabi doesn't understand. Tomura leans back out of his space and smiles.

"There, can you say something for me?" He can't understand the words, but the other mimics speech and Dabi frowns.

"What is this?"

The whirring gets louder and then Dabi startles as there's a little shock against the side of his neck like when there is lightning in the air.

"It's okay--" Tomura says in his language. Dabi's head whips back to him and he snarls. Tomura holds up his hands placatingly. "It's okay, it's not going to do that again. It just had to connect to you so that you will be able to understand me. You can understand me now, can't you?" He lowers one hand very slowly to one of his pouches and extracts a little... shell? Something hard and shiny black that opens. He takes a rigid larva out of it and raises it to one of his strange ears, slipping it inside.

"I--I-- if you could speak all this time, why were you--" he gestures as if that can encapsulate all of the stranger's behaviors up to this point.

"I can't speak your language." The other tells him, "And you can't speak mine. This earpiece," He points at the thing he stuck inside. "And that collar, connect us so we can understand each other now." He waits to see if Dabi has anything to say to that, but he is just stunned and quiet. He has never heard of such a thing. "My name is Tomura Shigaraki, I'm a human from the planet Earth."

There's another long pause, but eventually he makes himself croak, "I don't have a pack name anymore."

Tomura frowns slightly. "Is that different from 'Dabi'?"

He barely manages to nod. "'Dabi' is my name in exile." His chest tightens, "I was expelled from my pack-- I'm broken, my coloration is wrong, I still lay even though my brother was chosen to be the nest barer--" he has to tell him these things, he has to get this... human to understand that he isn't worth all of this trouble, that he can't be a mate. "My eggs aren't--"

"People, other species from places besides this one," Tomura cuts him off, his eyes intense, "Want to steal them from you. They think that your people are animals, and they want to steal you away so that you can lay the eggs for them to sell."

His stomach lurches sharply. "...What?"

Tomura takes a breath and starts to speak for a long time.

///

It takes several hours, the sun rising on the clearing again, by the time Tomura has finished telling Dabi everything that he needs to. He doesn't have the training that planet surveyors do to tell a new native species that they are not alone in the universe, but he does what he can. Dabi listens to him, he only asks a few questions, and he can see the small creature grappling with everything he's been told.

"...I can escort you to the Proximacard settlement where you can get your species registered as sapient and start negotiations with them--"

"They are the ones who told your people," he has never had a qualm about his profession before he hears how Dabi says that, "To steal our eggs." He whines low in his throat, "Would they even listen?" And there's a hopeless fear in his voice that scratches at that bare bit of conscious that has kept him here trying to figure out how to help Dabi and his people, Salkeh, instead of leaving when he realized that they weren't the animals he had thought he should expect.

"I don't know." He admits and then, before he can use his better judgment and stop himself, he goes on, "I can also take you off planet to the nearest hub. I can bring you to a galactic outpost, and you can get registered directly with someone there who isn't associated with them. They'll work out what they can do to help make sure it is a lot harder for anyone to come here and try to hurt your people."

Dabi looks so forlorn and helpless for a long moment. "How long would that take?"

"The nearest planet," that he can go to and that doesn't have an outstanding warrant against him, "Is about a day and a half's flight. I don't know how long getting completely registered will take, but just going and telling them that your species is a people and not animals will make them send non-Proximacard people here to make certain that Proximacard isn't doing anything illegal-- like trying to take your eggs."

"I... okay. They'll have to find someone else-- I'm an outcast. I can't speak for all Salkeh."

"Now that I have a sample of your language, they will be able to reach out in your people's tongue. Hopefully that will be enough to keep anyone else from being disemboweled?"

Dabi shrugs weakly, like he doesn't know and is too caught up in everything else that has already happened to make a decision now.

"You can take some time if you need it," he offers reluctantly. He doesn't know what learning this kind of thing about the world would do to a species that is still in the hunter-gatherer stage of evolution. He's not even certain, as far as legality goes, if Proximacard would be allowed to set foot on this planet if they'd known about this. "But not too long. I'm not the only person who is interested in your species."

"Okay." Dabi reaches for the collar.

"You can leave that on, unless it's causing discomfort. I'll leave in my earpiece. If we are within ten yards of each other then we'll be able to talk."

Dabi's hand drops away and he just nods, barely looking at him.

"You can take as much of the meat as you want too."

"...I'm not giving you my egg."

"I don't want it. I just brought this because I was hoping that you would talk to me if I showed that I wasn't a threat."

Dabi's ears pull back, not into sharp points, but almost flat down into his hair and his tail curls around one of his ankles. "...Right. Of course." He doesn't take anything else as he goes back up to his den. It's too far for him to hear the other's voice through the piece.

///

The next time he sees Dabi is well through half of the night and he is going to have to tell the other man that he is diurnal, not nocturnal, because he is seriously starting to feel the lack of sleep he's been getting over since arriving here. Dabi slinks down the edge of the cliff and comes over to the carcass, picking up another leg before he drags it closer and starts to gnaw on it.

Between bites he asks, "Do you not eat meat?"

"I do, but I don't know what on your planet is safe for humans. We have people who determine that through different methods, but I don't have the equipment for that." He takes the water bottle from his belt, "If I didn't have this, I couldn't even safely drink the water on this planet. There are some planets where I can't even breathe because of the different environments. If you come with me, when we dock, I'll have to call the outpost and they'll send someone to see you to determine if you can leave the ship safely, if not, they'll probably come with us back here to fully register you." The only reason he's bothering to take Dabi instead of just going himself to tell them is because he doesn't want the guy to get captured or killed by any other poachers that may arrive while he's gone. He can't even just try to put a call through to the proper authorities because it will be filtered through to Proximacard because they have settling rights on the planet and they'll just report back that the Salkeh are not conclusively a people. Bringing Dabi somewhere it won't be possible for that information to be buried should help actually keep his people from being rounded up and sold to slavers.

Dabi rolls those things around in his head for a minute and crunches into the bone of the leg again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Do all of your people lay eggs?" The translator has assigned his speech the masculine forms of words, which is how Tomura has been able to guess his gender now, but he has no visible sex organs or any recognizable secondary sex characteristics that he would have expected from another creature.

"...We're not supposed to." Dabi mumbles, hunching in on himself and making his already small body even tinier. "Packs are made of a mated pair and then whatever clutch they are able to raise over the years. The mates pick one of their children to be the one to continue the line and they are allowed to keep laying throughout their life and look for a mate, the other children become the hunters and guardians for the layer. My youngest brother was picked to do that for my family, my sister, second brother, and I were supposed to be hunters, but I kept laying anyway. I tried to stop it, but it only delays it, and it makes me sick." Dabi hesitates, but he keeps eating, and when he swallows again he mumbles, "They sent me away. We can't sustain a pack that has two layers, and my coloration isn't... right. I'm too noticeable when we hunt."

"I had a hard time spotting you at night going through the trees." It's not much of a compliment, but the little creature looks so forlorn that Tomura wants to try to offer something comforting.

"We normally hunt by foot, during the day. I'm... compensating for my shortcomings."

"If you're surviving fine on your own then your differences aren't shortcomings." He says a little more firmly. That, at least, he can be genuine about. "None of the rest of your pack have survived alone, have they?"

Dabi considers the words, considers him, and then shrugs slightly, his tail flicking a bit. "I don't know." He shifts, turning slightly away from him as he focuses on his meal, making it very clear he's finished with this line of conversation.

Tomura doesn't push him on that. He's supposed to be building trust with the other man. He doubts he'll get him onto his ship otherwise.

///

Dabi isn't sure about any of the things that Tomura tells him. He didn't know there were other people out in the sky, he didn't know there were worlds that were like his but not, that the creatures invading their forests and stealing their eggs were looking for something pretty rather than stealing them away to eat. What he knows most sharply from his conversations with Tomura is that... he isn't looking for a mate. He never was. He only gave him the things he did to try and get him close enough to put the collar on him so they could speak. Tomura brought him gifts to tell Dabi what danger he is in, and that is all he did it for. He never intended to do anything else.

And Dabi is aching with his hurt every time he goes and curls into his big, warm, fluffy nest with his stomach full. His mother had never had such a lush nest, his father and all of them had never been able to provide her or Shoto such luxury when their heats came. But Tomura doesn't seem to know or even understand any of that. He only means to try to do right by his whole people. That shouldn't sting so badly, but as the smell of the human fades and fades from the blankets, it's the scent of his sorrow that replaces it. Not even the monster his people feared could want someone as broken as him.

///

"Tomura?" Dabi asks as he comes to the fire. Tomura finishes adding the sections of wood that he gathered earlier in the day and looks up at him. The smaller man looks up at him, his ears pulled down again and his tail flicking by his ankles, like a guilty dog.

"What is it? Did something happen?"

Dabi shakes his head slightly, but his head is still down. "How long will it take?"

"A day and a half to travel there, but they should send someone to the docking bay immediately when I tell them you're with me. I don't know how long they would make me confine you to my ship as they checked you out, but I don't think it would be more than a few days, otherwise they would probably just have me bring you back here so that you wouldn't be off your planet for too long. Maybe a week?" He hopes that it wouldn't be longer than that. He's already spent a lot of time on this job and he's sure the file is properly in circulation now. If they don't sort this out quickly, then the likelihood of other Salkeh getting taken away is absolutely going to go up.

Dabi shifts on his feet. "I can't leave for two weeks," he says and Tomura wants to argue. "I need medicine if I'm going to try."

"Medicine?"

"It's almost time for me to lay my egg. I can hold it off, but I need the fruit from a special tree. If I have enough of the fruit I can push it back for a little while."

Tomura would almost laugh if Dabi didn't sound so dire as he speaks. Every species on every planet has their own versions of birth control, it's just something that is slowly becoming apparent as a universal constant. "Okay, I can help you gather it if you want."

"I need you to go get all of it." Dabi tells him. "We only plant the trees on the edge of a claimed territory, and I'm not allowed near any. If they smell I was by the tree, they may come to... hurt me."

"Okay, where is the tree?"

Over the course of the next few minutes, Dabi gives him directions that Tomura maps out with the sensors that he's placed around the area, and he gets a detailed description of the tree, though it shouldn't be too hard to spot given that it is much smaller than the species that is dominant all throughout this area. The fruits themselves are the size of Dabi's fist, so around the size of an apple, but should be dark purple with a fuzzy white layer of hair along their skin to show they're ripe.

He would rather not travel at night, but with time being so important, and now knowing the other Salkeh are diurnal, he would rather go to the edge of their territory under the cover of night. Just to lower his chances of getting disemboweled, if at all possible. So he gears up and heads out, Dabi staying behind and watching after him as he goes.

///

The trek through the snowy forest is, thankfully, not as difficult as he feared it would be, though the cold and moving carefully through the snow does mean he's going much more slowly than he usually does. Still, it's worth it when he gets to the tree and finds that it is filled with the fruits exactly as described. He pulls a small folding bag out of one of his pockets and starts to pick the ones he can reach, going a bit higher than the ones he imagines will be easier for the Salkeh who live in this territory to get to. Dabi said to bring as many as he could, and he's guessing he'll need to eat them every day that they're gone, so he fills the bag with nearly three dozen and makes his way back to the campsite.

Dabi is waiting for him, inspects the fruits and starts to take them up to his den.

"Dabi, we should leave as soon as we can." He warns.

"Tomorrow?" The creature asks, his shoulders hunching in on himself. "I... might be sick after eating some of these. I need a few hours to adjust."

He doesn't really want to put the other man on his ship, on the first vehicle that he's ever been on, when he already might be at risk of throwing up, so he concedes to that. "Okay, I'm going to go back to my ship and sleep and in the morning I'll gather up my gear and then fly the ship back here. Do you need more food for the trip?" The Vaak that he hunted for the other is still only half eaten, though he supposes that's not really a surprise, the creature was the size of a moose.

"No," Dabi mumbles, and Tomura isn't going to say that the creature has ever been jovial or even all that talkative, but he certainly seems more dower than he has been before. Part of him wants to ask if pausing his laying is painful or dangerous, but the fact of the matter is that him not doing it could be far, far worse. So he just says,

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yeah." He slinks back up to his den and Tomura extinguishes his fire thoroughly before going back to his ship. It's a lot of hiking on very little sleep, but he can sleep for a few hours in the ship, and the autopilot will be able to cover him on the way to the nearest settled planet.

///

Dabi doesn't dare curl up in his nest as he eats the raca fruit. Tomura brought him plenty and he purged his stomach as much as he could while the other was gone in the hopes of getting their toxins into his system as quickly and thoroughly as possible, but he still will have to eat so many of them to try and stall the heat that he can feel sitting on the edge of his awareness. He waits until he can't hear Tomura crunching through the snow anymore and then he slips out of the den and takes the first fruit from the bag. The plump insides are bitter and sour as he eats it, the taste immediately making his stomach lurch, but he quickly tears the hard pit from the insides and gulps down the soft pulp of the rest of the fruit in a handful. It has barely hit his stomach before he is reaching for the next, and the next, and the next. He eats them until his whole body feels hot, the fur across his chin is sticky and wet, his claws are soaked, and he's sobbing softly as his body tries to revolt.

He only manages to hang on for another two fruits before he can't any longer, shifting away to empty his stomach of the fruit that tastes the same crawling up his throat as it did going down. Dabi means to move back to the bag and continue the miserable feast, but the stress and pain in his body are too much, he was too close, and a cloying, sickly warmth starts to bloom through his veins. He stumbles as he tries to stand, dizzy and even weaker than he usually is as his heat swells through his body, barely managing to drag himself back into the safety of his den before his legs give out beneath him.

///

Tomura lands his ship in the clearing the following afternoon and spends the next twenty minutes boxing up bits of the Vaak to bring along for Dabi to eat. He knows the other doesn't drink as much water as he does, but he also goes about ensuring that he takes several gallons of the water from the river for him. He makes sure that his ship has fully filtered through the air that was inside, runs a decontamination sweep on the thing, and then leaves the bay doors open to take in as much of the pollen, air, and anything else that the planet might have that will hopefully keep Dabi alive. He usually knows how to adjust his ship's environment for his cargo, but he also usually is going after a known species. He doesn't know if Dabi's race is so delicate that a change in humidity or slight fluctuation in pressure could kill him, so he does his best to calibrate all of his systems to keep him safe for the journey. He even lowers the heat so that it will maintain the temperature of the planet, even if that means he's going to be miserable for a few more days.

And by the time he's done all of that, it's well after noon, and there is still no sign of Dabi. He waits another hour and the alien still doesn't appear. At the end of that hour he goes up to the base of the mountain and calls,

"Dabi?" He knows the creature's name, and even if he's out of range for the translator, he should be able to hear him anyway. But he doesn't get a response. Tomura hesitates. He hasn't climbed up to the creature's den. At first it was out of fear that he was hiding a vicious pack inside that would tear him to pieces, but after that, it was entirely because he was worried that doing so would encroach on the other's territory and make him feel unsafe. He needs Dabi to trust him and to be able to trust the other if they're going to be in a confined space together for a few days.

But he also said that the fruits could make him sick. He debates with himself for another twenty minutes, but then he goes back into the ship, gets his climbing gear. The distance from the place where he's seen Dabi disappeared and the ground isn't all that much, but given the icy surface of the stones and mountainside, he would rather be safe than sorry. It takes him another twenty minutes to climb up to the ledge he always sees the other duck into, and even just a cursory look around has him locating the narrow entrance to a cave along with the half-empty bag of fruits, the pits of them, and a pile of what he can only guess is frozen sick. Concern lances through him and he goes over to the mouth of the cave.

"Dabi?" He calls softly.

The earpiece crackles to life and he hears a soft, distinctive whimper from deep within the cave followed by a sound he can only describe as a sob. Tomura's stomach sinks.

"Dabi, are you alright? Can I do anything to help?"

"T-Tomura," He whines again at the end of the word, and he takes a tentative step into the cave, having to crouch down a fair bit to fit inside.

"I'm going to come inside, okay?" The other just lets out another weak sob and Tomura doesn't know if he could feel worse about this situation. He's never thought he was a particularly good person, but the realization that he made a newly discovered species cry before he even found out if they could laugh is a truly miserable thing. The other doesn't protest, just giving a pained moan, and he moves through the narrow channel, his nose slowly starting to pick up on a sweet citrusy smell that vaguely resembles lemongrass. It also gets warmer, much, much warmer as he goes, the sunlight dimming behind him, but not going so dark that he can't see anything, because there is a faint blue-green light emanating from deeper in the cave.

He finds out what that is at the same time as he finds the larger opening. He is on his knees, crouching low, as he sees four eggs, four of the sought-after shining eggs spilling the aurora borealis along the walls and ceiling... in the shape of four figures. They're crudely carved, but they're clearly shaped in a similar away to Dabi. Four Salkeh watching over Dabi who is curled up in what he can only describe as a large, fluffy, makeshift bed built around the blankets he gave the other.

Dabi mewls at him, a sound that is distinctly cat-like, his bleary eyes blinking up at him, shiny and wet with his tears, his thicker fur pasted to his forehead from his sweat. And it is very warm in the den, Tomura realizes distantly as the small alien writhes in the nest, spreading his legs and showing the hard, flushed cock and dripping cunt, the lips nestled around his base like his dick has replaced where he would expect a clit to be. He feels his face heat and starts to move away.

"Tomura," Dabi reaches towards him, milky tears slipping over his cheeks. "'M sorry," his voice is watery and thin and his gut sinks.

"It's alright, I'll wait for you outside--"

Dabi keens at him, trying to sit up, and when his hands can't reach him, his tail wraps around his wrist. He reaches for the appendage gently and even just the lightest touch has Dabi moaning so loudly, putting all of his sharp teeth on display. "N-need to lay--" He whines, his claws clenching around the blanket and twisting to press his face deeper into it.

"Okay, that's fine, Dabi." Embarrassment is a heat tingling down his spine as he sees the alien in such an intimate moment. His first instinct is to extract himself to give the other some privacy, but that wars with what he knows about childbirth in his own species alongside the watchful figures that Dabi has made for himself crudely out of his eggs. "Do you want me here? Should I keep watch at the entrance to make sure no one else comes in?"

Dabi whimpers and his tail pulls on him. "You'll stay?"

His mouth is dry as he croaks, "If you need me." He's not expecting Dabi to start to purr. He's also not expecting the other to force himself to sit up, claws tangling on his sleeves as he tries to pull him weakly into the nest.

"T-thought you weren't--" Dabi loses the words in another loud purr as he tries to get him even closer. "Mate, my mate?"

"Mate?" He doesn't want to push the other away, worried about hurting him, or accidentally getting his gear shredded on those sharp claws, but Dabi is purring and pressing in even closer, shoving his face into his neck and breathing deeply to scent him.

"Please, please, please. Such a good mate." The other tells him desperately, trying to hook a leg around his hips and pull him closer. "Bringing me food, protecting me, helping make my nest--" Dabi lets out a strange mixture of sounds that the translator can't make sense of. "Be good," he promises, "Be a good mate for you."

"Dabi," he says as gently as he can, "I can't be your mate." He hates having to say the words as soon as they're out of his mouth, but, "I don't know if we're compatible." And then he wants to slap himself because that should not be the thing that he said. That shouldn't have even crossed his mind. He should have told the other he didn't know those things were-- oh, oh! Is that why he had been so despondent? He thought he was trying to... court him? Tomura's chest tightens as a few more milky tears slip over Dabi's cheeks, his face stricken.

He's an idiot. He's beyond stupid and this is a terrible idea, but he can't stomach that look on Dabi's face. He can't bear the thought of hurting this creature like this any more than he could leaving him to get captured and abused by some other poacher. He whimpers softly and Tomura... settles more fully into the nest. Dabi's body feels like an inferno, the heat reflected and retained by the blanket he gave him.

"How can I make this better?" Should he be helping to shift him into a different position? He looks down at the other's stomach and it doesn't seem to have any visible swelling, though he feels like it should given the eggs around the cavern are nearly the size of a pineapple.

Dabi, maybe his brain cooked through with the heat of his body or the arousal that is making his pussy gush and his cock drip, pulls on him again, his tail shifting from his wrist to up between Tomura's legs. He nearly yelps at the touch, and Dabi chirps and purrs so loudly when he feels his cock beneath the thick fabric. "Mate, mate, mate," he can't tell if the word is a term of endearment or a demand, but Tomura supposes for a species that doesn't constantly have their genitals on display, his body must seem... eager to him. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he is. That despite everything else, all of the messy things that are happening, Dabi is cute. He's pretty so flushed and needy, his body desperate to be fucked full, and the purrs and moans, the pleading whimpers and whines, how needily he's pulling on him to get him close-- Tomura hasn't had a partner in ages now, and one so eager puts an ill-gotten heat under his skin.

"Are you sure?" His voice is rough and desperate himself, almost wanting the alien to come to his senses and turn him away.

"Please, Tomura, hurts," he whimpers, pulling again.

"Tell me how to make you stop hurting, beautiful." He murmurs, reaching for his gloves. He's burning up, sweat already prickling at his skin beneath his gear, and as he sheds those, Dabi starts to pull more insistently at his jacket. That joins his gloves, his boots, his pants and the thermals beneath all of it, he strips away layer after layer of clothes, and Dabi watches with some fascination as he does. The heat in the cavern is enough for him to barely feel the chill of the outside air that's coming from the entrance. When he's naked too, his cock starts to harden as Dabi spreads his legs wider, letting go of him to keep his sharp claws away from his skin. The fur around his cock and cunt is matted down with how get he is, and Tomura gives into the urge he's had since he saw his dart bounce harmlessly off of his fur, and lets his fingers trace along the fur over the outside of his thigh.

Dabi purrs again, and the fur, for as tough as it must be, is extremely soft, but dense. It's cloud-like in texture, but there seems to be so much of it, despite how short most of it appears. He tries to gently press his fingers into it, but no matter how warm it is, he doesn't feel the texture of skin beneath, too thick for his touch to sink in. His tail wraps around Tomura's wrist again, grip tight around him, and he brings his hand from the outside of his thigh, to over top of it and then, "Please," he pleads as his cock twitches, the skin there visible and flushed with the heat of his blood. Tomura's breathless as he very gently rubs his fingers along him. Dabi still moans so loudly, back bowing so sharply that he worries he might have hurt him. But he didn't, he's just breathlessly needy as he tries to get more.

The slick along his cock isn't dissimilar to his own pre, to the vaginal fluid that leaks out of an eager cunt, and when Dabi doesn't growl, snarl, or try to twist away, he lets himself wrap his hand around his length. His cock is the right size for his body, but it's still so small compared to him. Everything about Dabi is small, and he is easily able to have his entire length smothered in his palm, feeling little regular bumps and ridges along his underside that he hadn't been able to see well, but that feel almost as solid as bone beneath his burning velvet skin. It could be bone, he considers distantly. Some species have bones there. It's hard to focus on any coherent thought when Dabi's pretty blue eyes are squeezed shut and he's writhing, his little hips fucking up into his fist and his pretty lips open on every gasp and moan that he's letting out.

"Tomura, Tomura, Tomura," the alien keens and he has to stroke him, has to twist his wrist and pump him, slowly increasing the pressure until he finds the things that make him feel good. He thinks he knows when a fresh pulse of slick streams out of his cunt, soaking the blanket beneath them and filling the air with more of that lemongrass scent. "Inside, please, please, need you, please--"

It's perhaps the only time any human man has ever said, "I don't know if I'll fit, baby," and actually meant it, actually been uncertain. He doesn't know if Dabi can take his cock, certainly not without stretching him for it. But he does take his other hand and drag his fingers through the thick puddle of his slick. He makes sure his fingers are coated thoroughly before he brings them to the puffy lips of his cunt and starts to rub at that soft skin gently, watching with fascination as his anatomy opens for him. The lips spread wider, his cock gets a little longer as it pushes even further out of his body, and he can see the little hole between his legs more clearly. Tomura keeps his touch gentle as he circles him with a finger, and more slick rushes to meet him as Dabi moans and he hears his claws pierce through the blanket. Tomura circles and rubs, but the muscles are soft, giving, and just as eager as the rest of Dabi's body.

His pussy squeezes around his digit deliciously as he pushes it inside. It's probably a miracle his slick isn't burning off his skin and that his vagina doesn't have teeth or spikes or something inside. It's just hot, wet, and tight, sucking at his finger as he presses it in all the way to the base as Dabi sobs his pleasure. He tries to go slowly, feeling half-crazed as he feels Dabi's body trying to suck at him to get more. He strokes along the soft muscles and feels them give and press back as they undulate against him and he is achingly hard himself as he imagines how tight they'll squeeze him if he can actually give Dabi his cock safely.

Tomura can't help it, he doesn't know what the other man would want, he's not even certain how the Salkeh normally mate, but he is only human. He leans over the creature's much smaller body and he catches his panting mouth in a kiss. A mouth that is full of sharp teeth that are strong enough to rend bone, that he should be terrified of despite how small and sweet the other feels beneath his lips, but Dabi knows this. His people have a concept of kissing, because his mouth is messy and eager against him, kissing back as his arms wrap around his neck to keep him there and his legs try to wrap around his hips to bring those closer as well. He manages to hook his thighs around his hips, but he can't pull him all the way in, and Dabi lets out a frustrated chitter as he uses his tail to wrap around one of Tomura's thighs and try to pull him even closer. He can't help the breathless laugh he lets out against the other's mouth, and he starts to press in a second finger to try and quell some of his need, stroking his cock in time with the movements along his walls.

That doesn't calm the creature at all, and he uses his sharp teeth to nip at Tomura's chin, the points dangerous, but not breaking his skin as he does. "Mate me, correctly." He demands, digging his dew claws into Tomura's back just hard enough to put a tantalizing sting of pain under his skin.

"I'm opening you up, Dabi." He murmurs, drawing his fingers back and pumping them in more deliberately. Dabi keens, his back arching as his cunt gushes around him. "You're so small, little one," his own voice getting rougher as he feels the deceptively delicate body against him. "I don't want to break you."

"Break me if it means I'll be full," he demands, pounding a fist weakly against the back of his neck.

"Such a demanding little size queen." He can't keep the warmth out of his voice.

Dabi curses. The translator knows it's a curse, but it doesn't know how to translate the saying, not having enough of a sample of things on Dabi's world to pull from as he does so. "You are a bad mate!" He snarls, but he's not pulling away, he's just whining and it should not be as endearing as it is, making Tomura's insides warmer as he presses a kiss to Dabi's cheek,

"Let me give you one more and then you can try my cock, alright?"

It seems to be enough for the other man because he angles his hips up into his touches again and Tomura presses in a third finger. It already feels like a tight squeeze, but even then the Salkeh doesn't seem satisfied, his cock dripping and such an angry red at his tip, his hips constantly rutting up to fuck himself harder on his digits. He presses more kisses to his cheek, down along his slender neck, chancing licking at his fur which is such a strange textural experience against his tongue, but the other's fur tastes the way it smells, with a strangely herbal tang coming through as well. He doesn't know if he should stop, if he's accidentally going to poison himself by licking at the other's flesh, but Dabi starts to purr even louder as he gets impossibly wetter and Tomura quickly dismisses any hang-ups about the texture. He'll hack up a hairball if it means that he can keep making Dabi feel good.

He takes the third finger easily enough, and Tomura hopes that means that whatever this state is as he prepares to lay his egg means that his insides are as elastic as they must be for that task. He doesn't want to tear the other open around his cock that he guesses must be much larger than any that Dabi has had before just based on the size of his species. He withdraws his fingers and Dabi starts to purr even more loudly, the sound rumbling out of his chest like a warp engine switching gears, and sending vibrations across both of their skin. Tomura smears the fluid all over his hand along his cock, the touch there making his own need more than insistent as just the cursory strokes make him desperate for the release he was trying to ignore his body craving.

When he lines up, Dabi pulls on him again. His head looks too big for him and as he does start to slowly press inside, the stretch of Dabi's cunt is deliciously obscene as it spreads so wide for him. The pressure and heat is blinding as he pops his head inside, Dabi's body convulsing around the intrusion and then tightening so much Tomura nearly sees stars as Dabi's cock twitches in his hand, his cunt gushing, his seed spilling thickly all over his hand and stomach as the other comes from that first stretch of him. A heady rush goes through his body as those muscles start to loosen again as Dabi writhes and moans against the nest, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight as pleasure seems to wrack his body. He pushes in a little harder, a little deeper, and the other keens, but his body opens for him. He sinks all the way inside and Tomura thinks he's going to lose his mind. He's so tight, so hot, so wet. Dabi's body clings to him, texture along his walls that isn't like any human or alien he's ever fucked before.

And he's breathless when he sinks all the way inside and he can see the press of himself as a faint shadow along Dabi's stomach. He tries to roll his hips just a bit, and he can see the muscles in his abdomen flutter, can feel them, and he can see how the movement shifts inside. Fucking hell. He's not certain he's ever felt his arousal burn this hot beneath his skin and it's only made all the stronger when Dabi opens his eyes just a sliver so he can see that shining blue and his breath trembles as he demands,

"More."

He can't really stop himself from giving the other everything that he can. Tomura fucks into Dabi's body, starting slowly, but as the alien moans and squeezes around him, his cock still hard even after his orgasm, and makes it so abundantly clear that he wants every inch of him that his body can take, he can't hold back. Soon their movements are rough, shifting the blankets beneath them, his mouth dragging over wherever he can reach as he looks for places to make both of their pleasure burn hotter. Dabi doesn't have nipples or a belly button under his fur, but he does have a place on the side of his neck just under his jaw, where a sweeter scent is mingling with that of his slick, and his eyes roll back when he sinks his teeth in there at the same time as he thrusts as deeply as he can go into the other's body. He makes such a wonderful symphony of sounds as Tomura tries to write pleasure into both of their bodies, switching between moans, chitters, and purrs constantly.

His breaths are growing heavier, the heat between their bodies nearly unbearable as they move, and his pleasure starts to go so hot, tightening the muscles in his thighs and through his pelvis. His balls are drawing closer to his base as his orgasm pushes on his nerves. He doesn't know how Dabi knows that he's getting close, but he starts chirping, making short bright sounds as he tries to pull him closer, his tail wrapping tight around one of his thighs to try and drag him in deeper. He's not expecting his cock to hit something deep inside of the alien's body, something that twitches and flutters against his head before it latches on like there's a tiny mouth sucking at his tip deep inside of Dabi. The surprise, the sensation of that is what sends him over the edge. He lets out a rough groan as he is held deep in the other's body, cumming hard and shaking as his orgasm lasts much longer than it ever does normally. And he just keeps cumming. He's certain that it should be painful, that his body shouldn't be able to give the other so much, but there is a little bulge forming on his stomach where his tip sits, where he's filling the other's body. Tomura can't help the thin whine he lets out as Dabi purrs and purrs as that place inside of him pulls out every drop of cum that he thinks he's ever been able to produce in his life in, god, it must take at least a minute or two, and when he's finally finished, those internal muscles finally let go of him and Dabi slumps bonelessly to the nest, his cock softening and his body letting Tomura pull his out. There's an aching oversensitivity there and he ends up shifting so that he doesn't crush the other beneath him, laying back on the blanket and just trying to catch his fucking breath.

And then Dabi shifts, half crawling on top of him, his face pressing tightly up into his neck, his tail tangled around one of his legs, and his arms back around him, clinging to his body, and he starts to purr and purr. And Tomura decides he doesn't give a single fuck, he's too busy petting at the soft fur all along the alien's body.

///

Tomura, for as much as he seemed confused about the mating process at the start, is a good mate for him as his heat swells through his body. His cock is so much bigger than any Dabi has ever seen before, but he supposes that shouldn't be a surprise when he is a much bigger creature in general, and he feels so good inside of his body. Dabi doesn't know how he ever could have pretended to be satisfied with his own tail before when he fills every space of him and gives him so much seed that it leaves his breeding pouch distended with the fluid as his egg forms. And Tomura's body is different underneath his hides. His skin is warmer and more of one even color save for when he's flushed, and he isn't covered in fur elsewhere, which he supposes is why he needs all of the hides that he wears to stay warm. And he's... good. He's sweet. He brings him water, both warmed by a fire outside to help clean up the stickiness from his fur and cold from the river to drink. He brings him food when he's hungry, and he gives him his cock again and again whenever he craves that impossible, delicious fullness.

And being so full, getting so much from the other in such a short period of time means that it is barely three days before he feels that hardness forming low in his abdomen. It doesn't hurt, it's just a different kind of pressure and he is purring and purring as he feels the egg becoming more and more solid. He's never been able to form his egg so quickly and he immediately knows that this will be the shortest heat he's ever had. he's not certain if that's because Tomura was able to fill him so thoroughly, or if it's because he made sure he was so well-fed throughout his entire preparation period, but he doesn't care either way. Even if the egg won't be fertile, and none of his eggs ever are, it still puts something deep and satisfying in his body as he realizes that he will be able to lay so easily for once in his life.

When his body finally starts to feel as though the pressure is getting too great he starts to nose at Tomura's neck, chittering and chirping to try and get him to wake from his sleep. The human pulls him closer, into his side and presses his face between his ears, nuzzling sweetly into his hair and making Dabi's whole body even warmer and softer. He's a good mate. He's warm and soft, and more affectionate than his father ever was with his mother during her heats. He hopes Shoto finds a mate this sweet someday.

"What is it, little one? Do you need it again?" He murmurs, his other hand moving down Dabi's body, he touches his lower stomach, feeling the harder press of the egg beneath his skin and Dabi moans softly. His cock is starting to harden again, the pressure inside of him putting good pressure everywhere, just like the other's cock.

He chitters, rolling onto his back and pulling at the human, being careful of his claws. For as strong as Tomura was to be able to hunt a Vaak so easily, without his hides on, his skin is soft and easy to break. He doesn't want to hurt the other. So he is careful as he gently pulls at him and gets him between his legs. He needs the other to fill him again, to make sure that his walls are already soft and gushing to make room for the press of the egg as it comes.

Tomura doesn't hesitate to help him get out the egg. He presses inside as he kisses along his neck, licking at his mating gland. He's nibbled on it a few times throughout his heat and each time he does, Dabi only grows more and more desperate for him to bite at his properly. But Tomura doesn't have the same kind of bump on his neck and he worries that he won't be able to give him that. Maybe humans do something else to show that they have taken a mate. He doesn't know. He doesn't have the focus in him to bother to ask. All he cares about is how good it feels when Tomura rubs their cocks together, when he presses his length between his folds and moves against him to stimulate his nerves until his lips are puffy and his cunt is wet and dripping, making sure he coats himself in Dabi's fluids like he wants to soak his scent into his skin before he's even gotten inside. But then he does start to push in and he goes absolutely breathless. Stars dance behind his eyes as his body is made to stretch, and stretch, and stretch open as the other creature makes his insides part around his length.

He can't be blamed for how good that feels, can't be shamed for how quickly just that entrance and the first few gentle rolling thrusts make him tremble through the heights of his pleasure as they come crashing through him. He certainly does not think he can be blamed for that feeling so perfect that Dabi feels his egg loosen itself from the walls of his breeding sack, and before his mate has even cum to slick his walls further, it is starting to shift slightly lower. Dabi keens, not having words for the feeling of that pressing against the inner muscles that are usually so tight to hold in his mate's seed inside, being stimulated at the same time as they press on his outsides as well on each deep, languid thrust from the human. Dabi can hardly breathe. Normally laying, even when he was allowed to do so, was painful. It was so much pressure and such sharp discomfort as the egg pressed out of his body, but now he is dizzy from how good it feels, the movement on each side of that ring coaxing it open more and more. He feels delirious as he realizes that he's opening up for it without the agonizing cramping that usually comes with this part of the process.

Tomura mates him slow and deep, one hand, his hands are soft, his claws thin and trimmed back to the beds of his fingertips so that he can't rend flesh, moves to Dabi's cock. He's still hard from how his body is forcing more and more blood there to make laying easier, and that further spike of pleasure opens him enough for the muscles inside to latch onto Tomura's cock again. He's never been able to mount another, but it must feel as good for the human as that suction does for him, because each time his body is ready to receive his release and attaches to him, it hardly takes long for him to shudder through his own orgasm, the first pulse of his fluids sending Dabi into another of his own.

And as soon as his insides tighten, his egg starts to move. he unlatches from Tomura's cock, and he lets out a soft sound of surprise before he pulls out, seeing the bulge in his stomach beginning to shift.

"Oh," he breathes, bringing a hand to Dabi's stomach and pressing lightly. Dabi moans as his pelvis tingles with fresh pleasure as the egg moves. It feels heavier than it normally does, though he supposed that's because he hasn't been starving for two weeks before pressing out an egg with a shell barely thick enough to hold. He can feel the ridges and patterns of his shell moving along his walls this time, the sign of a well-formed egg that makes his whole body hum with pride. "Already?" Tomura asks, sounding awed as the bump disappears from the surface of his stomach, as the egg presses into his vaginal canal, and his hand moves lower too. He spreads Dabi's lips wider without even needing to be told, the mixture of his cum and Dabi's slick easing the way so that he can press out the egg. It's not an hours-long struggle that leaves him completely drained this time. It's an easy, gentle slide, his insides already so stretched and used to the delicious feeling of Tomura's cock pushing in so deep. Dabi purrs and purrs as the egg slips free of his body and settles gently into the soft nest beneath him.

Tomura's hands leave his body and he reaches for the egg, and a flicker of fear goes through him. He said he wasn't a thief, that he didn't want his egg, but it could have been a lie. He could take it now, and Dabi isn't sure that he would have the strength to stand and chase after him to get it back. Even if it is empty, he doesn't want to give it up. Panic surges through his chest--

And Tomura lifts it and offers it to him. The egg has the shiny iridescent color that a strong shell should, the bones he'd eaten throughout the past few weeks imparting it with what it needed to form so well. And the swirls, they're more distinct, better formed than any other that he's ever seen, creating deep ridges and grooves that make it look like something truly unique and lovely. He's never seen another egg like this one, and he thinks that must be because no one else of his kind has ever had a mate like Tomura. He can't help it when he starts to purr and purr as he gently takes the egg from his hands, intending to lick it clean, but Tomura takes some of the cloth he first gave him, unsoiled from their mating, and begins to help him clean it off. He doesn't steal it, he doesn't take it to be crushed the way his father used to take his other eggs. He watches over Dabi, his expression warm, as he holds it.

There isn't anything inside. He hadn't let himself even pretend that it would be different because he had Tomura. It's his body that is incapable of creating a viable seed, be it in his womb or otherwise, and he can't feel the pulse of warmth that would be inside if it were alive. He can't hear the shifting inside that would indicate that there was something inside. But it's easier not to care about that now. If there is no baby then he can hollow this egg like he has his others, he can keep it close forever, a little part of him and Tomura even if the human tells him he still never intended to take him as a proper mate.

///

Tomura isn't expecting to get to see Dabi lay his egg, and he's a little stunned and dreading the eventual conversation about the egg itself. About... the child that they may have now after he made himself at home in Dabi's bed. He doesn't know what to think, what to do. He certainly wouldn't be the first human to go off-planet, meet a new species, and immediately copulate, potentially spawning hybrid children, but he didn't think he would actually be the type to do so. He also didn't think he would be the hind to see Dabi holding the egg, the shining, swirling shell nearly eight inches tall and six wide, and wonder how that could have not only gotten out of the little creature, but also to keep finding himself feeling a warmth in his chest as he sees Dabi curling around it, pressing his cheek to it to check its temperature, his ear to it to listen for whatever he expects to hear inside. He doesn't know how he's supposed to ask what this means going forward, but he has to know as the next day he finds Dabi without his genitals visible again, blinking and looking at his surroundings much more carefully, his blue eyes brighter and more aware than they have been for the past few days.

Tomura has to ask-- and Dabi stands, egg in his arms, and goes outside.

He immediately scrambles to put all of his clothes back on, having been in only his thermals from how hot the den was, but he knows that he can't let the other just wander around, not when it's been two days and he has no idea if there are other poachers that have already arrived in the area. The other man has been practically non-verbal for days, so he gets into his clothes as quickly as possible and stumbles out into the snow,

"Dabi, wait--!"

The other creature is already down by the river and only glances up at him before he crouches into the snow by the bank, waiting. Tomura does his best to get down onto the ground, though he doubts he is anywhere near as graceful or quick as the other man. Still, Dabi waits for him to get down and move up to the edge of the river with him.

"What are you doing?"

"Emptying the egg. It'll rot if I leave the stuff inside." His voice is a little scratchy from how much he's been purring and moaning, and he doesn't sound particularly happy about the prospect either.

"...Rot?"

Dabi doesn't look at him as he nods, turning the egg onto its tip so that he can use one of his sharp claws to scrape away gently at the surface until he scrapes through enough of the shell to pierce his claw inside. He tips it onto is side and lets the liquid drain out, a milky mixture that looks startlingly similar to their fluids as they gushed out of Dabi with the egg as it was laid, but no clear part, no yolk as he was taught to expect from an egg laid to carry a living creature of any kind.

"I can't lay healthy eggs," his ears droop low and he won't look up at Tomura as he says that. "I'm sorry." He drains the rest of the fluid and rinses it out in the water until it passes his test, and even after just a minute or two open and not in the water, the inner shell begins to oxidize and it starts to glow a gentle blue.

"You don't have to apologize, Dabi. I'm not sure I would have been ready to be any kind of parent to a child." He doesn't bother to say it's a relief the egg was infertile. "I don't know if I'm... a suitable mate either." He says more carefully.

Dabi's shoulders hunch in on themselves. "Okay." He hugs his egg close to his chest, "We need to leave, don't we? I'm sorry for the delay. I should have had you get the fruit as soon as you told me it would be important for us to leave soon."

Tomura wants to protest, wants to... he doesn't know, give the other some time? A minute alone, maybe, but Dabi is pushing up from the snow and starting towards his ship, still holding the egg carefully, but straightening his spine. Maybe the other doesn't want that though. He doesn't know, he just knows that they do need to make up for lost time.

He gets the other situated into the ship, having someone in the seat beside his own for the first time, and he makes certain that everything is ready. Dabi still holds onto the hollowed egg, as his ears pitch forward with his interest as he starts up the engines. He keeps finding himself glancing over at Dabi as he starts the final checks, starts the take off procedures, the moment that the engines start and they begin to rise. He brings the ship up past the trees, ascending carefully, and Dabi's nose is all but pressed to the glass as he sees the forest from above. His pupils have blown wide, his tongue peeking out from between his lips like a cat excited to be given a new toy and Tomura feels helpless to the warmth in his chest.

Space travel was something old and commonplace when he was born. He had been to Earth's moon for a field trip when he was only five. He knows he was impressed then, but since that point, he's spent most of his life in space ships or on other planets. He hasn't even been back to Earth in six years. But seeing the look of wonder on the other's face is... something else.

"You're going to want to sit back," he instructs, not entirely sure why his throat feels tight. "We're going to go fast to get out of your atmosphere."

Dabi sits back and wraps his tail around his egg for added security.

He wonders what it says about him that he still can't help but feel a deep endearment for the creature when they enter hyperspace and the lurch of movement has Dabi throwing up on his floor.

///

The trip to Coth E1 is uneventful as far as the flight goes. The autopilot functions as it's supposed to, they don't get into any skirmishes or fly into an asteroid field, they just go from point A to point B. But the journey itself, having Dabi in the ship for a day and a half is different. About three hours after they left his planet, Dabi hadn't been so clingy and protective of his egg anymore, asking if there was somewhere he could put it where it wouldn't be broken, and Tomura had carefully shown him the smugglers hatch, using his coat to wrap it up in an extra layer of padding even before he put it in a secure box with a spare tarp.

"My instincts are normalizing again." Is all Dabi had bothered to say when he'd asked if that would really be alright for the rest of the trip.

He let it go then, and over the next hour he'd shown him around the rest of his small ship. But when that had been finished, Dabi had wanted to sit back at the front of the ship to look out the window. And Tomura had done his best to answer any and every question the Salkeh had about space and the things they passed as they flew. When Dabi had run out of questions, he had just looked out the window until his eyes grew too heavy and he let out a soft defeated coo before he had slumped low in the seat and fallen asleep. Tomura picked him up then, easily lifting the small creature, and carried him back to his cot. Dabi hadn't woken as he was moved, but he had immediately clutched onto his pillow and blanket, tucking his face in tight to the fabric and purring the same way he had when he had been tucked against his chest in their nest.

He sat on the edge of the bed watching the other sleep for an agonizingly long time.

///

Flying in the ship is fascinating. It's amazing to be able to travel through the night and see bursts of stars that are the suns of worlds so far away that even in a ship like Tomura's they wouldn't ever be able to reach them. Coming off of his cycle, out of the haze of desperation and longing he'd felt to be claimed by the other, his wonderment at being able to be in the sky is amazing. However, landing is horrible.

He loses the little he managed to eat when he woke up again as the ship lurches as it comes down in the docking bay with many more ships, some much, much bigger that Tomura's, but the human anticipated his sickness this time and gave him a receptacle to be sick into, the mess being sealed away in seconds rather than spilling anywhere that will have to be cleaned. He also brings him a cup of water to drink to help clean out his mouth.

"...Sorry."

"It's fine, Dabi. Lots of species get motion sickness." He then turns his attention back to the panel of buttons in front of him. He hits a few and then a new thing opens across the window, partially blocking the view of the place they've landed in. "Shigaraki Tomura, docked in ship XR0U280. I'm calling to report I have an unregistered sapient species with me who would like to register with the Foundry."

There's a slight pause and then more talking that Dabi can't understand despite the collar.

"I'm a wildlife photographer," Tomura tells the other voice. "I came across him while visiting a nearby planet, I don't have access to that kind of equipment."

There's another burst of speech from the other side, and it sounds calm. Tomura doesn't seem upset either.

"Thank you, I'll have him put on a helmet before opening the doors." The little square goes away and Tomura turns to him. "Okay, they're going to send someone to check you over, alright? They're going to make sure you're healthy and that none of the things on this planet will make you sick."

"Okay."

Tomura brings him a dome to wear around his head and he hooks up a thing to it so that he can breathe, and in just a few minutes, he is opening the door to what looks like another human, and what looks like a reptile that walks on two legs. Tomura blinks when he sees the lizard-person.

"Spinner? I didn't know you were out here."

The lizard says something in turn, but Tomura is still calm and the other human, who is shorter than Tomura and that has lumps on their chest that Tomura doesn't produce something from inside of one of the pockets of the hide that they are wearing. They pass it off to Tomura and he turns back to him.

"This is a universal translator, if you put it on, it will let you understand everyone who talks to you, not just me. It will also start to log your language so that anyone else who meets a Salkeh while wearing this, will be able to understand their speech and talk back to them."

"Okay."

"It's going to sting like the collar did." He warns and Dabi is not thrilled about that, but he allows the collar to be swapped for the new one. The sharp jolt that goes through him is easier to stomach this time because he was prepared for it, but Dabi can't say he enjoys it as it happens.

"Hello," the other human says, "My name is Lilea Sylas, I work for the Foundry and am going to help you to register your species. This is my colleague Dr. Shuichi Iguchi. He's going to give you a check-up."

"Okay."

"If you have any questions or need anything explained, all you have to do is ask, we'll do our best to make sure that everything is as comfortable as possible."

He turns back to Tomura, guilt twisting his stomach, "You'll stay, right?" He doesn't know if he can ask for that. They're not mates, after all.

"Of course I will." He reassures without blinking.

And he doesn't move an inch as the other two begin to ask him questions and check him over.

///

It takes four days for them to do the full gamut of tests to make certain that Dabi isn't carrying any pathogens that he might give to others, and to determine that he isn't going to die to any of the natural ones here. He shouldn't go into weather exceeding twenty-one degrees Celsius for more than one hour without lots of fluids and even then he will have a risk of overheating if he stays in direct sunlight, he should limit his intake of grains to a maximum of five percent of his daily food, and he is deathly allergic to guava of all things. They also determine the dark spots and infertility are due to an autoimmune disease, not one that's transmittable, but that is hereditary, and likely something the rest of his former pack were also carriers of.

He's not sure if finding out that information makes Dabi feel better or worse, but Tomura feels a hell of a lot better when the Foundry finds the file Proximacard made available for settlers going to Ipra 309T on the Salkeh and immediately send a cease and desist along with an order for immediate closure of the planet. The Foundry, or likely one of the exploration companies that work more closely with them like Exovin, is dispatched six hours after they arrived on day one to put a stop to it and make sure they all left. He's certain that when they find out, and he's sure they will, about Dabi's people being hunted for their eggs, they will put a blockade around the planet as well until they speak to the Salkeh. He doubts Dabi's people will trade away their young, but it will be up to them if they want any shell pieces after they've hatched to be illegal to be sold as well, if the rest of his people even want anything to do with the outside world.

But at the end of the four days, Dabi is free to wander the planet, he is given a list of all the ones that he will also be able to travel to without having any adverse side-effects, or he can go home. The Foundry will offer transportation if Tomura has his own business to get back to.

"Okay." Aside from answering questions, Dabi has been quiet for the past few days and it sinks his stomach to see him so despondent. Sylas leaves the ship, and Tomura promises to go out for drinks and to catch up with Spinner when he can, but he gets them out of the ship so it's just he and Dabi alone. When the others are gone Dabi turns to him, "Can I have my egg?"

"Of course," he makes sure the bay windows are shuttered and then he goes down into the smuggler's hatch and retrieves the bundle. The full shell inside must have oxidized over the past few days of the trip, and he can see the lights dancing across the patterns that swirl over the shell. It feels much less fragile than a chicken egg, but he's still extremely careful with it as he brings it back up to Dabi.

He takes it and holds it to his chest, "I can go back with the other ship."

"You don't have to," he says immediately. It's stupid, he should really be distancing himself as much as possible from this situation before someone finds out what he normally does when he's going for wildlife 'shoots'. "I don't mind taking you home."

Dabi's ears droop and he doesn't look up at him. "No. You've wasted enough time on me. You must have more important things to do."

Tomura isn't certain how he can tell Dabi that nothing he's ever done feels as important as this. Not when he can't really find words for it himself. "I really don't. If you want to go home, I'll be happy to take you." But he can't stop himself from adding, "but if you want to stay and explore, here or some of the other places you can visit, I'll go with you there too."

That finally gets Dabi looking at him again. "...Why?"

Why indeed. "Can't I just want to spend more time with you?"

"No one else ever has."

"I'll let you in on a universal secret," he tells the other. "Shitty families come from every planet. But they're not here now. You are the first of your kind to ever leave your planet, and you can go wherever you want and we can travel for as long as you want." He needs to stop his mouth from saying these things. He's not a child with some grand view of the galaxy who believes that every new world is an endless possibility. He's a criminal, traveling with him will be dangerous, Dabi will always be in danger until the fascination with the eggs dies. He has to be clear about that. "I would love to have you as a companion for as long as you'd like to stay."

Dabi's bright blue eyes search his face for a long minute, and then he lets out a shaky breath. "I want to stay."

Good. There's no other name for the lightness that fills his chest than relief as he realizes that he won't have to leave Dabi behind. "I need to tell you some other things about me. If you want to change your mind afterward, I'll still take you home if you want me to."

///

Six Years Later

"Two of whatever you have with the domed ice, but absolutely no guava." The little bar that he's wandered into is off of the main thoroughfare, wide bay doors and a large u-shaped counter with several people sitting and sipping at drinks packed full of ice, waiting out the Vebbore heatwave that lasts about two hours as the planet's axis tilts them a little closer to the sun in this region. He sees a few Earth fruits on the counter and being mixed into drinks alcoholic and not, but no immediate signs of guava, still. Better safe than sorry.

"Tomura Shigaraki."

He tenses slightly and turns, hating that he has to look up at the middle-aged red-haired human that's speaking to him. He is even less thrilled to see a Constellation's Collective badge pinned to his chest. "Can I help you, officer?"

"You have two outstanding--"

"My outstanding warrants in this system were quashed two months ago." He says immediately, flicking open his wallet to pay for the two drinks that have been set in front of him. "Thank you," he acknowledges the bartender. He then lifts his ID for scanning, as is procedure in this system for any arrests. The officer grits his teeth as he does so, his device only taking a second to match his profile to the one in the system and confirm his statement.

"You're under arrest."

That... actually does surprise him. "You just saw my warrants--"

"For the possession of illegal goods."

"I can assure you I am of age to purchase a slushy, even an alcoholic one." He says flatly.

The officer glares at him. "That," he says, gesturing to his neck, "Is Salkeh shell. Possession of which is illegal unless you can verify it was obtained ethically."

Tomura nearly rolls his eyes. One of these kinds of cops. "It was obtained ethically--" he hears a distinctive chitter and braces himself. Sure enough, not three seconds later, a solid weight connects with his shoulders, Dabi's legs hooking quickly around his waist and his tail steadying them both as he reaches over his shoulder to take one of the cups.

"You were supposed to wait in the ship, it's too warm out here for you."

"You were taking too long." Dabi says in turn, taking a big bite out of the snow cone dome of ice over the cup. He purrs happily at the coolness and only then seems to take notice of the man still glaring at him. "Who's this?"

"Pig." The cop's lip curls up into a sneer, and Dabi's tail flicks.

"Oink. What's he want? I took care of your warrants."

"He wants to know if my necklace was sourced ethically."

Dabi snickers, shifting to press a kiss to the shell piece that he'd etched carefully and attached to his translator. The larger piece of the shell sits just under his jaw on the right side of his neck, a ring of Dabi's teeth casting little nebulas through where he thinned the sections for him, since he couldn't have survived taking a proper bite there. "Of course it was, you helped make it." He purrs, rubbing their necks together. His blunt human teeth couldn't have pierced his fur in turn, and instead they had found someone who could embroider with hair, and Tomura had given up a few locks so that he could have his teeth marks in his collar as well. "My mate is welcome to as much of our eggs as he wants." He turns his attention back to the cop, "If that's all?"

The man clearly wants to argue, but they haven't broken any laws yet, and there are far too many people around who would likely take umbrage with him attempting to arrest Dabi at the very least. Afterall, when he's clinging to him like this, his dark talons disappear against Tomura's black clothes, making him look far smaller and more helpless than he would otherwise. The officer sneers at them one more time, pushing Tomura's wallet back into his hands before he turns and leaves the shop. He watches him go, making sure he actually leaves and isn't waiting outside to grab them as soon as they go, but Dabi is busy gobbling up the rest of the ice from the top of his drink and then quickly slurping down the contents, immediately reaching for Tomura's as well.

He presses a kiss to the tip of his nose before he relinquishes it, knowing his mate is just not built for this kind of heat. "Did you decide what you want to do tonight?"

"Yeah! I was talking to a Koquro woman at the bay and she said that there's a boat race after dark along the river, it's really dangerous because it's all in the dark except for the algae that glows as they stir it up." He nuzzles back against his cheek to whisper, "And I heard there's a lot of people trading things."

"Hmm, we should probably make sure to refuel before we go then." Because Dabi has been having a very good time lately hunting down anyone who breaks the rules of going to his home planet and stealing their eggs. If he's planning on committing a few murders tonight, then they should be ready to leave as soon as possible. His mate starts to purr immediately at not being told no, as if Tomura can ever tell Dabi no over anything. But it does also earn him a kiss from his mate, so he's certainly not complaining.

#my writing #shigadabi #mha fanfiction #fanfiction

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genderkoolaid · 1 year

Text

okay. I feel like I explain this every time I talk about men's issues but I just saw some more bad takes on transandrophobia so I'm going to go over exactly my thoughts on men & gendered oppression.

My argument is no "men, as a class, are oppressed exactly like women as a class, and all of society is always against masculinity & therefore any proof of society valuing masculinity/men over femininity/women disproves my point." My arguments are:

A fundamental part of patriarchal masculinity is competition and threats/fear. Yes, cis men are The Best, but the patriarchy does not give unconditional love and support to everyone perceived as a cis man. Creating a strict definition of what a man is keeps people in a state of fear that makes them easy to control. bell hooks talks about this beautifully in The Will to Change: "When we love maleness, we extend our love whether males are performing or not. Performance is different from simply being. In patriarchal culture males are not allowed simply to be who they are and to glory in their unique identity. Their value is always determined by what they do. In an antipatriarchal culture males do not have to prove their value and worth. They know from birth that simply being gives them value, the right to be cherished and loved." Men cannot be unconditionally comfortable without proving that they have worth via fulfillment of patriarchal standards- which are intertwined with capitalistic standards, because patriarchy & other social systems cannot be separated for anyone. This does not mean that men receive no benefits from the patriarchy- the way the patriarchy negatively affects men does not need to be a mirror of how it affects women in order to be real. I frankly don't care if this counts as oppression or not; its a part of the patriarchy and it hurts people, especially...

Marginalized men & marginalized perceived-men. We cannot act like marginalized women experience the intersection of gender and [x], but marginalized men have their gender completely ignored. It's just not accurate. This does not mean they never benefit from being perceived as men, either, or that they cannot contribute to misogyny. But marginalized men's gender absolutely plays a role in how they are perceived and treated. Testosterone can be seen as a positive for cis men while trans men are seen as hyper-violent "emotional women with male rage," because the patriarchy does not care about hypocrisy, it cares about control. White men can be encouraged to show their anger and be seen as powerful while Black men have their lives destroyed if they do anything but shape all of their emotions around making white people comfortable. There is a consistent trend of portraying marginalized men as having the worst of masculine traits- being ugly, sexually aggressive, uncontrollable monsters- or lacking the proper traits of masculinity- being infertile/failing to be properly sexual, being meek and easily dominated, being effeminate or having female traits- while dominant men are always perfectly balanced and in control of their masculinity.

The point of using "misandry" or "antimasculism" is not "all things male/masculine are treated badly." It's is being able to talk about how masculinity is weaponized against those who do it "wrong." All language is wrong, but some language is useful.

Also, if you want to hear more about the intersection of masculinity/manhood and Blackness, I'd recommend both the videos of F.D Signifier and the work of thotscholar.

#m.

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ladylaviniya · 10 months

Text

Wails of Wedded Bliss

Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: Sherlock Holmes is forced to marry you...and it is clear...he does not appreciate the union...thanks Enola...

Pairing: Sherlock Homes x wife!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Domestic r4pe, P in V intercourse, Forced/Arranged Marriage, Loss of Virginity, Loss of Innocence, Domestic Violence. Wedding crashing.

Word Count: 9k

Author Notes: This story has been published in the past on Tumblr on my old account @milknhonies-old-account since I have created a newer account and I am reposting it here.

11:35pm Monday 28th April 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

“You know Sherlock, matrimony is not as wicked and cruel as you might believe,” said his companion one day beside the fireplace of their flat.

The detective was slumped in his chaise playing away at his violin obnoxiously. The terrible tune of Frère Jacques made the doctor wince as it hit his ears sharply. Sherlock Holmes had found himself in a mental state of his own man made dramatics...

“Et tu Watson?” Sherlock sighed and put the violin down before wiping a hand over his face, “My dear doctor, I have no desire to restrain myself to the shackles and torture you inflict onto yourself.” He rose to his feet with a lengthy groan and sat his instrument aside. The depressed sir stumbled over a pile of discarded books to get to the drinks trolley.

The wine bottle cork popped loudly as he tugged you open.

It was no mystery. Sherlock did not entirely approve of Mary Watson purely out of jealous spite influenced by the attentions of his friend. When the pair married Sherlock stood stiff and tight lipped. He reluctantly handed over the ring as John’s Bestman.

Over the engagement and even during the marriage, Sherlock did not cease his sly childish comments made from time to time.

John however had caught his wife in conversation and debate on numerous occasions with the detective. Mrs Watson and Mr Holmes were not friends by any means, but they tolerated each other under limited circumstances. They found smart enjoyment in each other.

The doctor had come to visit his friend under the revered request of the older Holmes brother...Mycroft. There was finally an expectation...Mycroft wanted Sherlock to make a male Holmes heir...Perhaps it was scandalous rumour but John wondered how true the gossip of the older brother was; being a pillow biter or an infertile gentleman...especially with the pressure to have Sherlock marry and procreate.

Sherlock poured himself a glass of wine and downed it quickly. He set the glass on the mantle and shook his head slowly.

John tried to smile, “Mary and I have fun.”

Sherlock scoffed jealousy.

John had been married and moved out of Baker Street for six months now. Sherlock dared not ask the condition of Mary’s pregnancy.

“What fun? With your lace doilies and Shepard’s pie?”

His friend smirked, “I enjoy Mary’s pie very much, Sherlock...” He pursed is lips and tapped his cane to the floor, “Perhaps you need a slice of your own?”

Sherlock glanced at his friend. He narrowed his eyes as he returned back to the chaise, careful to not trip again on the books and loose papers that laid across the floor.

��My own pie?” Sherlock crooned as he laid back into the cusions, “Why do I get the sense that we are not speaking that of a pastry?”

The doctor tilted his head and cleared his throat, staring off into the fire, “Mrs Hudson has confided in me that you’ve resorted to returning here with...friends from Mayfair Row of the fairer sex.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. The old hag of a landlady needed to keep her nose out of his business. He was making his rent on time, it shouldn’t matter who he kept his business with.

The detective groaned and rubbed his eyes, “Merely cases, dear John.”

The doctor bristled, “Do not lie to me Sherlock,” he waved his finger, “I know very well what you do with those women...it’s only a matter of time you ask me to check your pecker. God knows what they carry.”

Sherlock shrugged and sniffed loudly.

“For goodness sake man...” John scolded, “Have you no heart whatsoever then for the dear girl you are to marry?”

The detective rubbed his hands and laced his fingers, “Why should I?”

“Sherlock!” his friend hissed, “Have you not even considered the notion she might also resent the concept of matrimony as much as you?”

“Is that possible in women?” Sherlock quirked, “Good Scot! I sound like my brother.”

“Your own sister is still dragging her feet through her engagement to the Tewkesbury boy on what...a year almost now?” the doctor tapped his cane on the floor thoughtfully.

Sherlock huffed, “Enola is not a woman.”

In the eyes of the law she was...she needed only pick a wedding date and commit to it.

Sherlock wouldn’t have the luxury of a long engagement. The wedding was next week and he had quickly agreed to the contract. He would marry under the financial clutch of his brother...Mycroft threatened to cut off all entire bank in regards to Sherlock’s unpaid drug debts...

After the cold leads to the trail of Madame Moriarty...the detective found little sleep in the night...Sherlock befell the unfortunate antidote of cocaine to help him stay awake and opiates to keep him asleep...John loyally helped those sweating events and threatened to put him in an institute if he didn’t cease his regular consumption.

Perhaps, John wondered, Mycroft was intending to cease the draining of his pocket by using a wife to tame Sherlock’s spending habits. John decided then and there that Mycroft truly was an idiot.

“You’ve not told me her name...” the doctor said in the long silence.

Sherlock looked at his feet and sighed, “Y/N...her name is Miss Y/N Y/L/N.”

The surname was familiar to the doctor, however not personally.

John nodded gradually and scratched his moustache, “Mrs Y/N Holmes of Baker Street...it’s got a little ring to it. A simple lift to the breath don’t you think?” he mused.

The other man glared at him, he didn’t like John making fun of the situation he’d been coerced into.

He deflected, licking his lips, “Mary has grown fat.”

John cackled at the poor insult, “Swollen with my child. I’m glad you have finally noticed. I look forward to seeing your future wife just as ‘fat’ one day too.”

“Please John, my ingestion!” Sherlock shuddered, cupping his lips.

The cane tapped again at the floor, “Surely she isn’t so unsightly?” his friend asked.

“She is most plain,” Sherlock complained, before he peeled through the papers at his feet and held up a board of hard card to his friend, “Here...my brother thought it kind to send me a portrait, to invoke my eagerness, but as is clear...my mind is not swayed.”

John took the photo carefully and moved his spectacles from his pocket to his face, he gazed upon your printed face in the glow of the warm orange fire.

The doctor raised a brow and snorted, “This girl? Sherlock...I believe your disregard to the union prevents you from seeing her true potential. I think you will make fine and handsome children.”

Sherlock looked on to the fire and continued to shake his head stubbornly, “I need a case Watson...not a wife...”

The doctor felt his resolve failing, he donned his hat and scarf, “Perhaps she is your next case...after all why would anyone agree to marry you?” he stood and left Sherlock to ponder until the embers of the fireplace burnt out black and the last light of the room was succeeded by the wretched dawn.

09:00am Monday 5th May 1890 Saint Marylebone Parish Church, London, England.

A lengthy breath escaped your chest as your fingers pinched your pearly white gloves.

Twenty was a scary age...you walked a line of spinsterhood.

This was it...

You were lucky to be here. Lucky to have this offering...the circumstances were complicated. You were illegitimate but nonetheless still cared for by your father’s parents. They pitied you and your past. Good Christians with empathetic hearts, they chose to raise you when your father abandoned you for a wife who despised the concept of living beneath he same roof as her husband’s bastard.

You were grateful and honest and polite and strived to please your paternal grandparents. When they presented to you a engagement contract, you dared not waste or drain any more of their kind financial generosity.

You were amazed by the name also on the document...

You were being asked to marry The Sherlock Holmes, London’s notorious detective.

You were stunned. You accepted.

His brother, the dealer of the contract was a friend of your grandfather and had been the proposer of the deal. The two men seemed to always sit together in parliament house.

You hadn’t even met your husband to be...today during the ceremony would be the very first time.

As your grandmother fixed your veil in the carriage ride to the church, you caressed the front of the bible in your lap. You prayed to God this marriage was right and meant to be.

“You are not as pretty as my daughter’s, but as our ward after all these years I am sure you will be a suitable bride to Mr Holmes,” she muttered under her breath.

Her husband happily scolded, “Nonsense! Our granddaughter will be a perfect match to the greatest detective of London.”

He leant beside you and pinched your nose under the veil, “My little girl is the prettiest princess today,” his fingers laced with yours and kissed the back of your gloves hand with his silver beard covered lips.

“Thankyou grandfather.”

The corner of your lips jerked up. He was the warmer of the two...but it was confided that your grandmother who sat sullen faced in front of you was merely putting in a facade. Your grandfather told you early at breakfast that your grandmother wept last night, sad to see you off to be a true married woman of society.

The accomplished their task, raising a young lady of good standing and half decent breeding.

The carriage came to a screeching halt.

The cold breeze hit your face as your grandparents climbed out of the carriage door. Your delicate gloves fingers reached out and were supported by your grandfather.

You passed your bible to your grandmother who exchanged them for a modest bouquet of flowers and lace.

The chapel was massive but you knew there would be only a small audience.

Your feet climbed the stairs and patiently waited for your escort. Your grandfather’s wobbly knees had to rely on you and his walking cane. Your grandmother climbed behind him to insure he didn’t fall and hurt himself or drag you down too.

The wooden church doors were open a jar.

The whistling wind made you feel like you were entering a funeral rather your own wedding. You were not opposed to matrimony but the dead silence and stares at the front of the pews made you blood feel cold...

A gentleman you knew as Mycroft Holmes was sitting in the front pew and rose to attention as you were entering.

There was three other men standing at the edge of the room.

The priest, and the groom and his best man.

Your husband to be was handsome from the distance you could see if him. His lips remained stern in a flat line however and his brows appeared knitted, perhaps he was...displeased?

Sherlock Holmes was accompanied by his infamous companion...Doctor John Watson. A war veteran.

A woman you had never met was mirroring his position to the left side of the church, your chosen maid of honour...but as she turned the slight curve of her belly spoke out... pregnant. A matron of honour.

Your grandfather clenched your arm and kissed the side of your head. You began your steady approach down the island with your grandmother now leading in front to find her seating on the front left pew.

You tried to not share too directly at your future husband’s frown. Perhaps he was tired or not aware he was frowning at all and just deep in his thoughts.

You passed your bouquet to your matron of honour.

Your arms felt shaky, this was it...a lifelong commitment ceremony.

When you paused before the alter, the priest bowed his head and asked your grandfather, “Do you giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

He gruffly cleared his throat “I do,” and turned you to face him, his hands squeezed your arms gently before he carefully lifted your veil above your face and over your flower covered hair. He smiled softly, tears beaded in the corner of his eyes. He leant closer and kissed your cheek, in your ear he whispered gently, “God bless my darling girl.”

Sherlock was quickly removing his white glove and pocketing it in his inner breast side blazer.

Your grandfather turned you around to face the priest. He placed your right hand into the holy man’s who then carefully removed the glove you wore and passed your naked fingers into the warm clammy hands of Sherlock Holmes. His reaction to your bare face was out of surprise...you did not know if his wide dark blue eyes were a good sign or not.

The priest tied a small white ribbon around your wrists, connecting you and Sherlock in symbolism.

He turned back and floated up to the stairs of his stand. He opened his holy book and said out to the very small group witnessing, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man...and this woman in holy matrimony.”

You felt your throat tighten and your mouth dry as Sherlock’s thumb softly rubbed the back of your hand. Your eyes glanced over to his face...his frown had disappeared, he was wearing the smallest of smiles. Relief swept through you, he was happy for now and that is all you cared for.

As the priest continued his holy speech on the reason of marriage you thought about your duties as a wife. You would now look after your husband as you have cared for your grandfather. You would bring forth a hot meal for dinner and host luncheons with other married couples of society. You would rub his sore feet and shoulders and prepare him a bath when he required it after his days of long tiring work. And most importantly...you would lay back and take him within to create children. You would spend the rest of your life expected to make your husband feel appreciated and loved. You were to be his other half, his Eve to his Adam.

He had the important duty of caring for you financially and supporting your future children and their education.

If he was a detective you knew his intelligence meant you would make very brilliant minded babes. You would make society proud.

You had seen Sherlock face in the papers but they were of illustrations that did not capture the colour and humanism of himself

“-Into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined,” the priest softly finished.

You felt Sherlock sigh and when his thumb stopped rubbing your hand, you tried to return the same rubbing onto his fingers.

It was a silent language of greeting and comfort...

‘hello, how do you do?’

‘I am well, thankyou.’

“Therefore, if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace.”

The groom glanced over his shoulder and his lips appeared to tighten...they fell into a frown and his hand grip loosened...was he...your heart deflated...was he not wanting to marry you?

You tried to restrain your emotions.

The priest peered down at you both, “Kneel.”

Sherlock and you with your hands still touching and bound slowly bend to your knees before the altar. The holy man pulled out a bowl and pinched his hands into the holy water.

He flicked both of your faces as he spoke, “I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful...”

There was no way you could mention how you were concerned Sherlock’s reaction might’ve been worldly. He remained silent to.

Your grandmother once told you how people who marry often do not love each other until years later. It happened to her, so you had within your heart the trust that as long as you put in the effort to be the perfect wife, Sherlock would eventually grow his love for you.

The Priest smiled at you both and nodded his head,

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes wilt thou have this woman Y/N Y/L/N to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?”

Your eyes glanced to his face, he appeared, flushed.

“Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Your groom looked over your hands and then glanced up at your face, his throat bobbed, “I will.”

His thumb rubbed your hand again.

You tried to smile...it was hard when he didn’t appear as enthusiastic about the union as you had hoped. It reminded you this was really just a contract between his brother and your grandfather.

“Y/N Y/L/N wilt thou have this William Sherlock Scott Holmes to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony?”

Your eyes stared up at the Priest who was dictating the vow, “Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Your voice for a moment caught in your throat. You looked to the floor and nodded, “I will.”

The priest then stood away and proclaimed, “Now ye have proclaimed to god, now tis time you proclaim your vows to yourselves.”

You felt Sherlock tighten his grip and faced him still kneeling beside him, his voice wavered as he proclaimed, “I, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, take thee Y/N Y/L/N to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

A pause in the air reminded you it was now your turn to repeat the solemn vow.

And for a split second...you wondered if agreeing would be a sin to god...you would do this all...but love...could you love a man who you did not know, honour a man who may not love you?

You nodded and properly looked into his eyes, trying to vow earnestly.

“I Y/N Y/L/N take thee William Sherlock Scott Holmes to my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

He glanced away and his lips parted, it was if he wanted to say something to you...before he closed them and eyed the priest. Ah yes...you were still in a holy ceremony. Talking could come later.

The priest nodded to you both and gestured to your hands.

“Now the groomsmen may please administer the ring.”

Sherlock removed his other glove.

The man who stood behind him, John, stood carefully forward after stealing a small ring from his breast pocket and passed it to Sherlock.

The priest untied your hands and your groom delicately took your left hand. He removed your other glove and pocketed it.

“With this ring I thee wed,” He pinched your forth finger before sliding the cold golden band on, it felt slightly loose, “With my body I thee worship.”

You finally took the time to actually look at his full face as he vowed to you. His blue eyes were dark and sparkling like a night sky or a ravenous stormy sea. In the corner of his right eye was a fleck of brown...oh yes...the stony sea side by the waters, they were his solemn eyes covered by curtains of thick dark lashes.

“And with all my worldly goods I thee endow,” he trailed off softly.

His lips were thin, wet and soft...his skin flushed in a soft pink but not overly obvious, his neck was a shade lighter to his ears and cheeks.

You heard the distant hum of the priest standing above you both.

The groom cleared his throat, “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The priest clapped his hands and joyously announced, “For as much as William Sherlock Scott Holmes and Y/N Y/L/N have consented together in holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, rise now as Mr and Mrs Holmes. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Everyone in the church echoed the everlasting word...“Amen.”

Sherlock and you rose steadily back to your feet. He let go of your fingers. Your hands limply fell aside. You turned back to your grandparents and smiled.

You were now a married woman before God.

The holy man brought around the script of lawfully paper to sign your name and the names of your witnesses. The parchment was laid across a small serving table where there was a small ink well and pen waiting.

Out of necessity you went to the table first.

When you signed your maiden name and then scripted out your new surname, you were now under the law of man the wife of the British detective. Your eyes fluttered shut...it was done...you were no longer considered the poor bastardess soul that had been disowned by both parents...you were now The Mrs Holmes. Wife and a future mother of Holmes sons and daughters.

Your matron of honour came closer to your side and politely smiled, “Mary Watson, my husband is the groomsmen. You are most beautiful and I must demand Sherlock cherishes you rightfully.”

She was a beautiful. Her gown at a light blue cooled her wild complexion. With her blonde hair and rosy pink cheeks, she glowed in her motherly state.

You returned the grin, “A pleasure Mrs Watson, thankyou for being here on this special day.”

She leant across you and signed the paper before laying her hands on your shoulders thoughtfully. You looked over your shoulder at the man who was now your husband.

He was shaking hands among the male participants. He was smiling. Your souls felt relieved. When he looked at you, the was something strange...he looked you entirely up and down... His face dropped, back to his deep thoughts.

He bowed his head to you before he brushed passed you leant over the certificate to officiate his name, however before the pen could meet the paper there was a persistent cry.

“I object!” Screamed this mousy tone that echoed the chapel walls, “Sherlock! I am sorry I am late! Stop! Stop the wedding!”

The sound of running feet screeched along the stone floor.

Everyone’s face split into shock as a boy who was a little younger than you for appearance sake came racing down the pews.

Yet as the boy ran closer, you could see the hat fall of his head and a wave of beautiful brown locks flowed down their back...her back...it was a girl in dirty boys clothes. She looked a kin to a chimney sweep with the amount of spot over her face and her hands and shirt.

“Please!” she heaved onto her knees to catch her breath, “Do not continue!” she raised her filthy palms in praying pleas to the priest.

“What is the meaning of this!?” your grandfather said losing his temper at the foul interruption of a seemingly happy union.

“Enola!” the two Holmes brothers shouted in union. They looked to each other accusingly before looking back at the girl.

The young woman glanced between you and Sherlock and started shaking her head.

“Enola,” Mycroft hissed and grabbed the girls arm roughly, shaking her slightly, “look at the state of you! What is the meaning of this? You were not permitted to attend and yet you come here uninvited nonetheless!?”

You were frightful of the way Mycroft shouted at her and brutally shook her. The young woman appeared scattered, she looked at you and then to Sherlock again.

“You were too late Enola,” your husband frustratingly sighed, “Mycroft let her go, this is my fault.”

Too late...wait....what...

You were stunned...speechless and confused...

Did Sherlock...have another love? Did this young creature hold his affections?

Mycroft loosened his grip. She sprung away from the older Holmes, “You are married, perhaps before God who I know you don’t care for!” And dashed passed you and waved the certificate with only your name on the paper.

“What blasphemy is this?” your Grandmother now announced with annoyance.

“But see?” The young woman named Enola ignored her and ran up to Sherlock, “Your name is not here, so legally you are not married Sherlock, you can stop this!”

His nose flared and his face darkened to pink. You could hear how his knuckles cracked as he made them into fists. He was furious. His angry eyes flashed at you and back at the girls.

You felt stunted...this girl was right...

Your chest deflated...you were not married, no, you were still in fact Y/N Y/L/N the bastard daughter of a Lord who was not permitted the privileged respect of your legitimate cousins and siblings. You were not a honourable woman still...you were still covered and stained with your parents sins.

The comforting hand of Mary Watson touched your hand. You started trembling.

Your heart ached. Your hopes to be veiled in a honouring title as a wife were diminishing by the second.

“I can help pay off your debts when I marry,” she quickly spurted, “Do not let Mycroft rule over you like he has done all these years! Do not marry a woman you clearly do not love Sherloc-”

“Enola!”

You gasped. You jumped as his voice bellowed and boomed through your ears and throughout the stone walls of the church. This dramatic scene was incredibly unorthodox and the priest himself seemed amiss and confused on how to handle the audience of the church.

“Enough!” Sherlock angrily hissed and shook his head.

He tore the paper from her hands and slammed it down on the priests stand before gracelessly signing his name.

“There!” he spat and slapped the paper against the priests chest, “It is done!”

He proceeded to storm out of the church leaving you and the rest of those in attendance in shock. “Sherlock! Wait!” Mrs Watsons husband shouted as he gathered his hat, coat and cane from a pew and hobbled out hurriedly after him.

Your chest tightened...you felt a rush of air escape you. You felt rather like your entire body had been spun around too many times. The embarrassment you felt before the audience was horrible. Tears were watering up into your eyes.

You felt abandoned.

It was quite obvious to you and everyone in the church...

Sherlock Holmes did not want to marry you. Why were you so unlovable?

You felt your legs grow wobbly. Carefully with the kind support of Mrs Watson you sat down in a pew.

Your grandmother did not look at you. She stared at the cross hanging above the ceiling and sighed. Her wrinkled lips turned downward. She did not approve of your behave or his.

This wedding was a distasteful event.

Your grandfather was shaking and needed to also sit down. The priest and Mycroft helped him to the opposite pew chairs. His hand was strictly clenching his chest.

And everyone but yourself was glaring at the young girl in boys clothes...

“Enola,” your matron of honour mumbled, “I think it best you leave until you are ready to apologise to your brothers wife...”

Your breath hitched and you gasped out of shock.

So she was not a old girlfriend romantically begging for love from your now husband...no instead the name came ringing through your ear. Enola Holmes...of course...the less experienced Holmes detective...

You dared not speak. You knew your tongue might be venomous and hot as a flame. You were in shock and a state of silent rage and sadness. You could’ve slapped the stupid looking girl whose face was full of surprise and regret.

You weren’t entirely sure how to express yourself. You felt humiliated and rejected. All those years of silence and a straight face after what your father had said to you...it broke you...

Your own husband did not want you. We’re you that much unlovable? We’re you cursed to feel this way?

Your grandfather was the only man in your life left that you felt honest adoration from...and his time was coming soon to an end in his old age.

You muffled your sobs into you gloves as you heard Enola run out of the church.

It was your brother in law who then came to kneel before you and hold out to you a handkerchief, “My sincerest apologies dear sister. I dared not think Sherlock or my sister could be so wicked a pair until now. All I can beg is you accept your role and keep your sweet countenance.”

You wondered suddenly why he was not the brother you married instead. Before you focused on such a thing you remembered that lusting for another man, your husband’s brother, was a grave mortal sin and incredibly improper before a holy priest.

Taking the cloth you sighed and covered your face, “Th-thankyou Mr Holmes, I do hope to make your brother very...” you croaked and tried not to break into tears again, to avoid them you swallowed hard, “very happy.”

You took a cool deep breath and forced a smile onto your lips. It hurt. Your cheeks stretched and painfully ticked.

He nodded and smiled, “I am sure you will my dear, I am sure you will, allow me the opportunity to escort you to your cab, your grandfather...”

You both looked at the older man whose anger had made him out of breath, “is still unwell.”

You said your subtle goodbyes. You kissed your grandfather’s balding scalp and scratching softly at his beard. He kissed the inside of your palm. His eyes watered, he didn’t want this for you. He looked down with shame.

In your eyes now you understood be would be the last man to have ever loved you.

Nodding you accepted his arm and thus concluded the wedding...

11:23am Monday 5th May 1890, 221 Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

Mycroft had hailed you a cab as your husband so nobly left into the one that had been rented for the both of you.

Your brother in law loaded you inside and had said he would look after your grandparents to make sure they got back to their own home safe and soundly.

You closer the curtain to the window and let your heart sob.

A sad bride on her wedding day, how terribly melancholy and cliché....

You didn’t expect romantic puppy dog love found in frivolous novellas, however you never expected such humiliation and horror to strike you on such an important date. This would be something you’d never forget...

The abandonment of another person in your life.

You were in a state of utter distress. You clenched your skirts tightly beneath your fingers. Yoh violently tore at your veil and the pins in your hair that held the specific style.

As the carriage cam to a halt the driver called out your destination, you pulled the curtain back and looked at the street.

221 Baker Street...your new home.

You opened and slid out of the carriage by yourself. You lifted your skirts, avoiding the black mud that your shoes squished into.

You climbed the front stairs of the building gradually and knocked at the door.

You waited five minutes before resorting to desperately banging. The horse cab had taken off and there was no going back.

What you desired most was a chance to sit down again and collect yourself before you sobbed hysterically on the street in the public eye. You already held the strange case of some being still clad in your white wedding gown.

When the door finally creaked open you fought every bone in your body not to storm your way through inside.

A wrinkle hand pushed the door open, followed by a steady voice of an older woman, “Why, hello my dear!” she said, “You must be the new Mrs Holmes then?”

A woman with wide eyes too close together with glasses and a loud clattering chatelaine on her waist opened the way to you.

Her hand launched out and tugged you inside by your wrist.

“Come, come in, please!”

You let her pull you inside the building and shut the door behind you.

As she locked the front door she spun to welcome you in an unexpected hug.

You normally would be shocked by such impropriety of embracing a stranger so quickly. But in your state of distress you leant closer into her arms and sniffled.

She pulled away, “My dear,” she gasped, “It is your wedding day, why the tears?” Your wet eyes went round and round as she jittered about you, admiring your dress and pinching at the soft material. “I did not expect you to arrive here so early. Oh and where are my manners! I’m Mrs Hudson dearest, I am your land lady and housekeeper.”

You fiddled with the ring now solid on your finger. You bowed softly to her, “My name is Y/N I don’t expect you to call me Mrs Holmes, Mrs Hudson, please call me as you will be my name,” you mumbled and wiped your eyes. They were pink and puffy.

She clicked her tongue with dismay.

“I presume Sherlock has brought you to this state...” The elderly woman smiled sadly, her wrinkles spread out, she took your arm and led you up a flight of stairs.

“Darling, I am just happy you are here. Your husband can be such a bully sometimes, but don’t tell him I said so. Your belongings arrived early this morning and I was just finishing putting your belonging away in your room.”

“Mrs Hudson,” you whimpered, “thankyou greatly for I have had a trying day...”

She gave you a copy of the home key to the 221B door.

Inside you were received with a scent of ink and tobacco. A very masculine smell. Clearly this was the home of your husband.

“Sherlock can be quite the messy tenant so I pray you will be fast enough to clean up after him,” Mrs Hudson stated bluntly.

“He has all his things thrown around the apartment and his excuse is always it has been done for a bloody case,” she made a high pitch sound and quickly covered her lips, “Forgive me dear, I don’t usually swear.”

You smiled sweetly and sighed, “Do not ask that of me Mrs Hudson,” you shook your head. Your grandfather had a terrible habit of doing many deeds and saying many things unfit for the ears of a lady.

She sighed with relief and clapped her hands. By taking your arm once more, she guided you through the homestead and presented you the premises.

Here there was a fireplace in the living room, nearby a bathtub had been carried from one of the bedrooms, it’s linens already prepared and laid over the copper surface. A fresh bucket of coal and wood sat beside the fireplace layout. The floor covered in a fine carpet and the curtains were the thickest of velvet.

“Kitchen is down stairs, shared by us both dear but I supply most meals as is the tenancy agreement so you needn’t burden yourself with those tasks, I do ask you wash your own linens. We have a alley line out the windows.”

You nodded as the woman kindly spoke to you and introduced you to your new life.

It was when you passed two doors you realised there was two bedrooms.

“Sherlock is sometimes a overly private person. Especially to the contents of his cases and clients. He owns the only key to his bedroom so I’m afraid I cannot show you his room until he arrives. This one, where Doctor Watson once resided is now yours.”

You opened it up and noted the empty trunks around the room which Mrs Hudson had emptied earlier.

“Doctor Watson lived here?” you asked over your shoulder as you stepped into the quarters.

You visually took in the fine canopy bed and a small desk and wardrobe in the corner with a large window that led out to the alley wash line, a balcony area and stair case up to the roof above.

Mrs Hudson went around and closed the suitcases and trunks gently, one by one. You started to explore which drawers she had placed what undergarments and jackets and what dresses had been hung in the wardrobe and which books she had stacked onto your desk and where she placed your accessories on your vanity.

You were not surprised by the condition of a separate sleeping quarter. Your grandparents slept in separate rooms...but that was because your grandfather was a loud snorer and suffered from nightmares of his time in the wars.

This marriage, you worried, would also lack a lot of physical contact...

“I am going to carry these empty trunks up to the attic dear,” Mrs Hudson stated as she lifted the empty wooden boxes. Your eyes widened and before you could offer assistance she had moved spritely out.

You opened the window to your room, allowing light into the space. You sneezed. It seemed the particles in the light showed Mrs Hudson forgot to dust the area.

You opened the small doors. The noise of the outdoor city crept in. The smell of the salty mud in the street tickled your nose.

Intrigued to enjoy more of your space you came out to look more around your home. It was smaller than what you came from, that did not make you any less grateful. This would be better than living in the gutter of the slums, you were sure.

The idea you now had a home of your very own where you could independently invite people over for tea and luncheon was exciting, your husband be damned if he didn’t allow.

12:07pm Monday 5th May 1890, 221 Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

When Mrs Hudson returned after removing the last suitcase and storage box, you politely requested she help you out of your wedding dress...

Her grey eyes widened at your request, “Did you not wish to await Sherlock’s return my dear? Traditionally the husband loves to take of this gown of all gowns.”

After his actions today...you were not sure you wanted to please him or suffer his very untraditional behaviour. You doubt he would be kind or patient enough to unbutton the line down your back.

You shook your head, “Thankyou for your suggestion Mrs Hudson, but my mind remains solid, I wish to resort to a dressing gown. I don’t intend to welcome any guests today other than yourself and my husband.”

Not willing to question your choice, she smiled warmly, “Alrighty dear, turn around then.”

Her wrinkly fingers pinched at your spine line of buttons starting from your neck downward.

“Forgive my prying dear...may I ask how the service went? I had expected you and Mr Holmes to have arrived together.”

You sighed and pinch the bridge of your nose. The moment you arrived you sensed this line of questioning would eventually occur...

“It was sorely interrupted by my sister in law...I believe she was attempting to save her brother from the wails of...” you smirked, and sarcastically drawled, “wedded bliss...”

You could hear the old woman cackle behind you, “Ah that Enola Holmes is a trouble maker and their mother if I might say so myself.”

“I did not witness his mother at the ceremony?” you noted openly, you presumed their parents had passed away.

“Oh no, probably not. Eudoria like a ghost in the walls some days. Very secretive that woman but good company I assure you, a comedian.”

How unusual to state so openly their mother was a trouble maker and yet good company...was such a thing possible?

“She...Enola...revealed his...true desires...or lack of...to be my husband...he left the chapel in a great frustration.”

Mrs Hudson’s worrisome tone opened out to you, “Oh no my dear, I am sorry to hear such a thing...I did say earlier some days he can be bully so I must pray he doesn’t treat you like that furthermore.”

You nodded sharply, “Perhaps my husband needs a bigger bully to tame his actions. Maybe he needs a good humbling?” you snorted a laugh. You felt a sudden pause in Mrs Hudson. You sensed her stepping away. Her sudden silence disturbed you

You looked over your shoulder to observe her but what came in view was a elderly woman gaping at a hard face man at the front door...Sherlock.

“Mrs Hudson, I do not believe it is a duty of yours to undress my bride and so I must find myself saying, I forbid you to touch her so intimately again,” he quipped as he shed his blazer and hung his top hat on the coat rack.

The room had become cold despite the bright sun shining into the apartment.

You felt exposed with your back flared out.

You turned your body for your front to face him.

The housekeeper snorted, “If you hadn’t abandoned her in the chapel this morning perhaps you would’ve been here to do it yourself.”

Your jaw fell open at her boldness. The man grimaced and smiled tightly with fire in his eyes, “Mrs Hudson?” he asked sweetly, “Get out of my apartment. Now.”

It was scary and yet so calm as he said it. His tone was full of a unspoken threat. The elder woman jerked up her chin and nudged him as she left the main room.

Sherlock swiftly locked the door behind her.

“So...Mrs Holmes...” He muttered bitterly, “You appear to be in need of a hand there with your wedding dress. Come here...wife...so I may relieve you of your strains.”

He spat the word ‘wife’ through gritted teeth. You did not feel safe...

“I...I’m sorry for what I said,” you mumbled, looking away from him as he stepped slowly closer to you.

He looked at you with a harsh face. His finger twirled in the air...silently demanding you turn.

He might as well have slapped you with the way you gasped. You bit your lip tightly to not cry now in front of him again. You turned away from him and began to pull down the bodice of your gown.

“Do not be,” he scoffed lightly, “You were merely stating what lay in your mind...”

You felt him behind you, hovering over you. You felt his fingers dug into the strings of your corset.

You pushed the bodice down to your hips. You untied the string of your bustle. When the springy cage collapsed, your white skirts fell passed your hips and down to your ankles.

“To this day,” Sherlock hummed, “I seek when women return to the corseting stays of only their chest. I don’t like pulling all these strings loose.”

You nodded slowly. You wanted to not disagree with him or voice your opinion. You had made the mood direly cold and you felt it was your duty to make him happy once again.

You stood from foot to foot nervously, “I had the means to merely shred my dress and not my underlings, you needn’t remove my corset-”

He cut you off blunt and brashly, “I want to see my wife naked and I need to pull these strings before I lose patience and cut them off, so please stay still.”

“Naked?” you gasped as he tugged roughly, making the whale bone loosen further around your waist and hips. You lost your balance and fell forward onto the lounge.

He twirled you around to face him, “Yes, naked,” and pushed the corset up and over your head. You felt suddenly like a trapped animal on the cushion lounge. The chemise was light and sheer...it did little to hide your breasts....

He got to his knees in front of you and started to unbutton your shoes.

“You know how to perform your wifely duties yes? You do not require an anatomy lesson I hope? A woman of sublime education should know how one copulates with another.”

You clenched your thighs tightly together, tol afraid to move as he stared up at you. Very tiny movement of your nodding made him hum approvingly.

You were feeling hot...sweat beading at the back of your neck. You were not sure whether you were ready to have him so carnally especially in the middle of the day. You were unsure if this was appropriate to be doing at all.

As he removed both your shoes...his hands tenderly pulled at your white stockings....his hands creeped up your legs and pulled at the ribbon garters... Your bare feet felt cold to the air.

You jumped as the feeling of his lips pressed to one of your knees.

It was the first kiss he ever gave you.

His hands were wayward and you frigidly laid still. You were still too scared to move. His hands cupped your covered breasts softly.

The breath in your chest was quickly stolen out in a gasp and a unpreventable shaking moan.

His face rose up and his nose nuzzled to yours. It was so intimate and sudden...you were frightened and turned your face away to shudder...

“W-wait,” you softly begged.

He pulled back and huffed, “Yes, you’re corrct, I am overly dressed as well it would seem.”

He pushed up to his feet and plucked at the buttons of his vest. His finger unkindly tore his cravat from his throat and thumbed down his trouser lifting suspenders.

You felt your knees rise up to your chest. You were unsure if he wanted you to help, if that was a part of the duties of the bedroom....you were still not in the bedroom however...

“I believe this copulation would be easier in the bedroom, my dear Mrs Holmes?”

You didn’t understand straight away what he meant...you were frazzled...surely men who hated their wives didn’t do this? Had you pleased him so quickly that he didn’t care about whatever you’d don’t to frustrate him?

He looked at you dumbly and tilted his head, glancing to your bedroom door.

His hand held out to you, “Shall we?”

Your mouth felt impossibly dry but your loins grew a buzz and you felt a need to self pleasure...was this lust allowed in a marriage bed?

You carefully rose to your feet.

He pulled you closer and closer to your room and finally closer to your own bed.

He gently pushed your shoulders down for you to sit on the soft mattress

He removed his shoes and pushed down his loose trousers. His breeches, he started to unbutton. You looked away from his face and up to the ceiling.

You heard his breeches hit the floor. You didn’t want to look at his intimates... He shed his shirt and started to pinch at your chemise.

“Lift your arms up.”

From the corner of your eyes you could see his bare chest.

You were trembling with your limbs above your head. You didn’t know this man...he was Sherlock Holmes the great detective but that is all you knew.

And you were letting him see you in a state of your most open self...

He pulled the material over your head and he groaned as he gazed at your totally nude chest. Your nipples hardened in the cold breeze wharfing through the open window. Your arms fell to quickly cover your chest, you were too cold and shy to be so exposed like this to him.

He noticed your shivering. He turned away and went to close the window and shut the curtains. With strange admiration you noticed his tight and strong backside and thighs.

You flushed and accidentally whimpered when he turned around and you saw his cock. It wasnt like the statues in the museum...nor the medical books you perused..

It was...larger, and brutish.

You bit your lip and clenched your thighs again.

Would be hurt you? You were curious as a young girl about sex like many. Among your friends you had heard that the larger the male member the more agonising coitus would be.

You quickly recalled a time as a girl your grandfather took you to a horse auction and a stallion had broken his way into the mares pen. The great black beast look the white squealing mare most violently.

Would Sherlock pin his body above yours and bite the back of your neck to keep you beneath him...

You gulped loud enough for him to hear.

His hand pushed your shoulders back slowly.

“Spread those pretty thighs Mrs Holmes, show me what is now mine...”

Your fingers dug into your arms as you held yourself. Pathetically, tears came creeping out the button ducts of your orbs and escaped down your cheeks.

You swallowed the sob building in your chest. You didn’t think this intimacy would be so frightful and terrorising...

He stared down at you with a mean smirk. He scoffed and shook his head. He touched your knees and helped force them apart. Your spread thighs revealed your hairy centre at the crease of your drawers crotch...

He hummed approvingly. He stuck two fingers into his mouth and sucked them loudly and lewdly...

You choked on your tears and covered your face with your hands unable to watch anymore...you felt everything nonetheless...

Those fingers trailed across your thigh and tapped at your peaking labia. Your eyes felt wide.

A light shriek jumped from your throat as his hot mouth latched to your neck and you gasped while his tongue tickled your flesh.

You felt a single finger wiggled its way around your pearl bundle of pleasure before trailing and prodding into the space of your body...the hole. Your vaginal entrance...

“A hairy pussy cat...I might need to change that...”

You didn’t understand what filth he was suggesting. You knew your pussy referred to your entrance but to change it made no sense to you...

His free hand gently pulled your wrists away and pushed your hands to sit above your head.

With his soft mouth he wetly trailed his tongue along your skin arouse down to your fuzzy covered underarm and across to the swell of your breath. You squeezed your eyes shut with difficulty as you felt the tip of his nose nudge your teat...

His hot breath covered your nipple.

It stirred a strange, painful warm down your belly and arousal between your legs. You felt the wet essences of pleasure seep from yourself...

You shuddered loudly and groaned into the head of his curly hair as his finger pushed inside, stretching you out. You blanched at the thought remembering his thick cock was worth four of his fingers at this moment.

The sound of his finger was squelching and wet.

His second finger flickered to get inside of you. You tore away your mouth and loudly groaned as he entered and spread your insides.

Your belly felt tight. You let out a moan.

He kissed along your jaw and pushed his mouth over your lips. You didn’t know what to do. It was like he was sucking at your lips and licking them with his tongue.

You felt your experience come to light. You and on some occasions of youth touched yourself intimately in the dead of the night when all in the manor were asleep...your soft sighs muffled by your own pillows were heard only by yourself. The scratching sounds of your hips rolling against a thick blanket between your legs were maybe mistaken for a skittering rat in the walls.

You urges would decease the touches when you were reminded by your own senses that your genitals were not your prize but your future husband’s to touch. It was a sin to steal what would belong to him.

And as you laid beneath Sherlock and recalled those desperate nights of silly humping you bucked your hips into the touch of his fingers filling and stretching your way.

It was good to be a virgin...you didn’t want to be a slut ...you worried he would see you as many saw you.... Like your mother a prostitute....

You kept yourself pure for this moment but for the first time you wondered if that was a good choice. Was the lack of experience...a good thing for men?

And after sometime of him thrusting his fingers in and out, you felt the soft hot skin of something touching your hole....the tip of his cock.

“Sh-sherlock,” you worriedly whispered, “Please...w-wait.”

Your husband grunted and lifted his hand away from your hole to run his thumb across your tear wet cheek.

“You are aware it will sting...nothing has been inside you like this before.”

“Yes,” you whimpered. He kissed your wobbling mouth and used the tips of his fingers to press on your clit. He rubbed you slowly and realigned his tip to your hole.

“Allow me to open your doors with my key, wife. Fill your home with children.”

You shouted up at the ceiling as he thrust hard and fast into your body. Your lower body felt like a hot poker was ripping up into you.

You gasped and choked on a silent squeak before a few seconds past and the air filled your lungs making you scream and cry out as your life changed forever...

It was like he had cut you inside. And the pressure had not left you. His cock was dug deep and snuggly buried inside your tight hole.

You hit him. Your fists banged his chest with the little strength you had left.

“Stop! Get off me!” you wailed.

With bruising grip he held your arms down either side of your head. He was too strong for you to pull and push off. You sobbed out for your grandfather, so scared this would kill you.

His hips pulled back. You both gasped.

You groaned at the sight of his dick leaving you, covered in dark burgundy blood. It yellowed his pale member.

You felt sick and turned your head away into your covers.

“Please,” you begged, “Let me go.”

He sighed and shook his head, his mouth latched to your ear, “No...you can do this Y/N...this is the price all wives pay.”

He sheathed back inside of you. This time the burn of your walls was a little less.

The smell of metal was in the room. Your blood scent hit your nose finally. You could taste it in the back of your throat.

The way his hip bones punched down and roughly scrapped your pelvis made you hiss.

His mouth forced it’s way onto yours again in a passionate kiss. You whimpered and begged him to stop again as he thrusted inside. It hurt too much...you whined and sunk your teeth into his lips and caught the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck!” he roared and pulled back violently. His lips and yours covered in bright red blood in contrast to the red waves between your thighs.

“Get off!” you screamed again. You tugged your arms weakly. You tried pounding your heels into the back of his thighs.

He rose his hand high and you squeezed your eyes shut waiting for a blow...it did not come. You heard him yell angrily and hit the blanket instead.

He tired himself out of you, the force made you choke. The taste of his warm blood in between your teeth had you spitting aside the covers.

He pushed off the bed and stomped angrily out of the room, slamming your bedroom door shut. You sniffled and turned onto your side, crying as the burn between your legs struck you. You felt empty and sore. Like his hand had punched inside your body.

This is not at all what you anticipated as a married woman...

Why would any woman ever love their husband after cause such agony as that in their beds...

You reached out for a pillow and tugged it to your face. Your nose rubbed deep into the soft goose feathers and let your tears meld with your snot.

You curled up and clutched your sore side...

It was a pain comparable to your menses.

You prayed for help or someone like your grandfather or Mycroft to come and save you.

HELPINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#wowb #wails of wedded bliss #sherlock holmes x ofc #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes enola holmes #henry sherlock holmes #dark!sherlock holmes #dark!henry cavill #dead dove do not eat

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bts5sosempire · 1 year

Text

the tyrant (vi); side one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,583

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, nothing major atm, mentions of infertility, etc.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna's eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you."

𝐚/𝐧: splitting this into two parts, leaving y’all on a cliffhanger. pls like, comment below for tagging, and reblogged. (edit: forgot there were "broken" links or something when clicking to find the chapters, those are also fixed too.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

In front of you were two boxes, one that was gunpowder with a bold black label written at the top of the crate, and the other was written in potassium chlorate. You notice that these two items share similar fates but different structures. "Handle with care," you instructed, snapping the fan in your hand shut. Walking off with shoulders squaring, your eyes trail around when you stop right in the center of the trading post. You finally owned a small port that allowed you to transport essential items from different countries. From using the money, the inn has accumulated over time.

All the time you've spent inside your room, stuck reading boring materials and trying to navigate into the world as a man, was brutal. You would never have the luxury and freedom as a woman, but you've become too accustomed to dressing up as a man. It doesn't mean you let yourself fall freely. This world wasn't built for women; you've always known that from the start, although that doesn't stop you from bending the rules to your will if you wish for it. The effects of reinforcing you into roles from everyone start to wear off when there isn't anyone keeping tabs.

And it feels liberating, you admit.

The first few steps you have taken for yourself without the help of anyone powerful give you a sense of clarity—something normal among the norms. You eye the small port, seeing the future play out in front of you. If you kept a steady trade of items from the small shops, you have gambled around the area for their compliance (you were hasty, something you ought to keep in check, too), then the port would grow big in no time. But quality wares is something you noted and took from the vendors you think would make it big if they produce what you're looking for. Owning important essential items or daily use objects was often sought out, and knowing what was going on in the market with the ledgers you kept, the vendors were happy to update it every week.

The smell of sea salt brushes against your nose when a spray mist of the ocean settles across your face like a thin veil. It brought you back from reality. The dark soft fur that clings around your neck tickles your jawline. It was a cape that had a lined coat inside for heat insulation. It was a gift to you from the seamstress. At first, you refuse such a gift as you weren't expecting anything in return but their devotion. The seamstress was an elderly lady named Rue with pure grey hair with specks of white, with milky pupils who ran the shop with her granddaughter, who was the age of fifteen. For someone blind, they have an impeccable sense of design, where to thread their needle, and even hand spin the silk threads with deer tail fur to tone down the bright arrogant colors.

Last but not least, you didn't bypass her as male.

You wonder how at first, Rue could tell, but you couldn't stop them from shoving their hands all over your face to see as further confirmation. It isn't until when you're alone that she sends her blushing granddaughter, who keeps gawking at you, to fetch warm jasmine tea from the kitchen. When she breathed out how the light footsteps and breathing differed from men, the soft scent of your natural smell under the musk of pinewood wasn't enough to fool her. Years of blindness hone her other senses.

To say you give a nervous smile even though Rue can't see, but she could sense it. You remember how she didn't ask questions about your true identity, but traces of understanding was written across her withering face. Rue was indeed an enigma and a master of changing the topic onto herself with woos of stories of her ambitious youth. You don't mind her rambling; as long as it's not you divulging into your life, then you're fine.

Readjusting the cape, you walk off the port onto the mainland, and before you can go any further, a woman who is a bit tad shorter than you bumps into you. They let out a yelp and seemed to trip over their heel as they braced for impact when falling back and shut their eyes. Based on reflexes, you grab their wrist to pull them upright, but all it does is wring their weight your way as they collide into your chest with a delicate sound of discontent.

"Hey! Watch where-" The words died on their lips when they opened their soft pomegranate-colored eyes. Their eyes almost remind you of someone. As if they couldn't utter a word after nearly insulting you, the shade of their face became gradually warmer, like the colors of their eyes. "I'm sorry!" They sputter out in nervousness. You only look down at her with your questioning piercing gaze that has her even weaker in your arms. Unknowingly. Ripping themself out of your hold, she set a space between you both.

"What are you sorry for? It was my fault for not seeing you." Simply reassuring her, the woman across from you became a more blubbering mess. You don't know what's going on in her head; the more you observe, it becomes a headache to decipher each passing second. Cutting her off, you notice the sky gradually getting darker and bid her farewell with a tilt of your head down.

It wasn't until that you were gone she allowed herself to bask in the memories of you. With both hands on her flaming cheeks, she gushes over her Prince Charming and starts to create scenarios in her head. "They were so cool!~" The aura around her was warm and pleasant, and even some bystanders who walked past her glanced at her—some young love.

"Lady Kiriko!" The young woman's handmaid finally reaches her as they huff and pant. They stop in front of her. Kiriko only clicked her tongue in distaste as she lost her sense of a heart-warming aura. "I finally found you! We have to go to the inn before it gets dark." The handmaid wheezes out.

Like a flip that has been switched, Kiriko activated her brat mode. "Why do you always have to ruin my fun?" She pinches the maid's arm harshly, and they cringe back. "I still have a bit more time left before sundown." Kiriko overlaps her arms, but her thoughts trail back to you, and then brat mode is switched off. She had a deluded smile on her face. Then again, it was back on instantly when she turned around to her maid. "By the way, did you see a handsome man on your way here? They walk where the way you came from."

The handmaid crinkles her brows in confusion.

Kiriko rolls her eyes, "You know about this tall?" She gestured to where your height would reach, which is a head taller. "They wore a cape in the color of brown, but it looked like gold with intricate design, and the neck had soft black fur surrounding it." Kiriko waited a few more seconds, "And they look adorable too."

The maid then snaps their eyes at the lady, "Ah yes! I saw them; they walked into a rented house near here!" Kiriko didn't waste time asking which house the handsome man rented, and the maid told her it was the Red Koi and sped away.

Eisha coughs as the weather gets colder and harsher. With the months flying by and winter coming, she tried to stifle another hack. "Where are the imported red coals?" She asked nearby maids, who gave each other a look, deciding who would break the news. They were a jittering mess and kept avoiding eye contact.

Eisha's lady-in-waiting ensured her Master was comfortable as she brought the finest furs and pillows to create a sturdy and warm nest. "Your Lady asked you a question, and you won't answer her?" The personal maid sternly made a face, and the lowly ranked servants quivered.

"The red coals that you requested were given to Lady (Name)," one spoke up, still refusing to make eye contact; they whispered the last part in a hush, "by Lord Sukuna's order."

As if what they said were whiplash to their Lady and the personal maid, Eisha's lady-in-waiting was about to blow a fuse for her Master. "All dismiss." She tried to say calmly. Although it was barely contained, all the servants could see how Eisha's handmaid eyes bled red with rage, and no one wasted a second to flee the room. If Hell existed, it would be this very castle.

Eisha's handmaid, Miyo, turns to their master. "Your Lady, even Lord Sukuna knows about your condition and that regular coals could suffocate your lungs and worsen it with the amount of smoke it emits." Miyo then curses you inside her mind; like everyone else, she couldn't understand why Lord Sukuna would put you above all else. Are you made of gold or something? Miyo was sure you were nothing; you hadn't made yourself worthy with a single childbirth. Something that everyone knew was important.

"Don't worry about it," Eisha's quiet demeanor made Miyo even more raucous, but she held it inside. "Go to the clothing department today and pick up my lined fur fleece and my daughter from her study." With the command, Miyo respectfully now to Eisha and left the room.

There was a quick and sudden announcement from Hanami about her niece visiting her from a different region of Japan in a week. So the Doom Mother (Motherzilla) had expected everything to be perfect and lavish. Even the concubines were putting on their best behavior as they discussed what to wear to welcome their mother-in-law's niece.

This was the first time the girl would make an official trip to visit Hanami alone. But that doesn't mean you haven't heard of her before; there were brief mentions of her throughout your marriage to Sukuna. Where Hanami had plotted the idea of her only son marrying a cousin with who he had no interest. Additionally, Sukuna only met her once when she was only eight. Even the age gap was a decade between them. In the faint memory of her ten years ago, Sukuna had said she was a spoilt brat to the brim and expected the world to bow down to her.

You could almost laugh at how ironic he was judging someone when he was the same way. Well, minus the spoilt parts, then it would be perfect.

"Lady (Name)," a lady you recognize was two years older than you, was part of Hanami's entourage, Ubi. Judging by her clothes, she was in the second rank, closely behind Hanami's vassal, Naiyu. This instantly made you put on an air of neutrality; you didn't know what to expect from her as you didn't know much about her. Out of all of Hanami's retainers, only Ubi and Naiyu were the ones you watch out for, as Ubi was specially trained under Naiyu, so their facade was perfect craftsmanship.

Since they both represent Hanami's strengths, they had to be fearless in what they do, and you suspect that much—being the blade for their master. Still, they have shown indifference toward you, but doubt lingers in your mind. You can be careful and wary of them, but that would invite your demise if you failed to see beyond, so you try to harden your eyes.

Ubi, who senses you putting up barriers, instantly tries to disarm it with a soft smile that is part of her service. "The Head Mother has requested your presence," and around you, the air of jealousy and envy from concubines rises through the roof and filters through the hallways. Whether it's deliberate or not, Ubi semblance never falters. She held onto that patience.

"Lead the way," you monotonously said, and she turned around for you to follow. Starting at her back, it's unsettling how you can't pick what's happening inside Ubi's head, unlike how you did with Sukuna. For them, it's a blank slate.

"Ugh, look at her acting like she's so important just because the Head Mother had called for her," Sena whispered with hidden jaundice around her little clique, and they all agreed. One rolls their eyes, and a few sniggers at the action. Her eyes trail close to where you left.

It took a few minutes to lead you to Hanami's residence.

"Head Mother, I have brought Lady (Name) as per your request," Ubi announces, and the door slides open. She side steps to the side to allow you in without looking up.

You enter the room with quiet steps and sit on the zabuton, and before you can bow as a greeting, she lifts a hand to stop you. "There's no need." Hanami tries to mask her displeasure at seeing you, and you weren't stupid to not see it. It's just you didn't bother to point it out. Since she has an important matter to discuss and it involves you, Hanami decides to make it quick so your face isn't a constant reminder of your Aunt.

Hanami: "You're going to take over on welcoming my niece."

You: "Pardon? Isn't that supposed to be Lady Eisha's role?"

"Yes, it is," Hanami spoke as a matter of fact, "due to her ailing health, this task might be arduous for her since the doctor has told her to stay warm, so Eisha is taking bed rest to recover. Thus I'm assigning this to you."

Well, this is news to you. Out of all the people she could've picked, she had chosen you for such a task. You would have thought she might select one of the lower concubines to do the job. With her blatant prejudice against you. "Wouldn't any other concubine be better for the job?"

"Are you shrinking your role as the second wife of my son?" Hanami blurts out in annoyance as her tone rises an octave high; she looks up and down at you repeatedly with quick eyes. Like, you have gone crazy for even suggesting that.

With lips service smile, you retort back politely, "Head Mother, you seem to be offended by my innocent question. I'm only asking since you seem to tolerate my presence barely, let alone we haven't spoken to one another within five years of being married to your son. The only time we spoke was, instead, very brief and short, two days after the wedding consummation." It was the first greeting for the mother as a new in-law from the wife or concubine as respect.

Hanami clenches her jaws tightly; your sharp tongue and dim-witted acting seem to prick her nerves. You and your Aunt are very much alike in some ways, unbearable and arrogant. "Are you going to refuse my order?"

"Ah no," you quickly reply, "that would bring shame if I didn't uphold my duty as the second wife of Sukuna and Lady Eisha's left hand too."

Hanami didn't know if what you said was pure mockery, but each passing second in this room with you got her blood pumping in anger. "Since you have understood, you're dismissed."

You courteously bow deliberately (on purpose) to bid farewell before standing up with grace. Hanami was sure you were playing with her; your ungenuine smile wasn't even hidden. She curses daily due to her son's favoritism of you; you're like a plague that never vacates. And have you grown uncouth that you don't even respect her?

"Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) will be taking over Lady Eisha's task of welcoming your cousin in a few days," Uraume informed their master, who quirked a brow.

"Oh? So that brat of a cousin is visiting?" He asked no one in particular; it was more of saying it to himself out loud. "Mother has finally given her such an important task for once." The thought of his Mother warming up to you sounds so funny that he can't help but chuckle. His Mother barely tolerates the idea of you and loathes Sukuna himself for a self-evident reason sometimes. "Make sure my wife doesn't overwork herself and help her if necessary; I'll tend to her afterward."

Uraume silently left the room, and Sukuna mulled over his thought. He rests his temple against his knuckles and watches the candlelight flicker under a breeze. But in his spare hand was a familiar thick jewel; Sukuna toys around with a gold bangle with assorted gems in various sizes, colors, and labyrinth designs indented into the gold.

It was your bangle.

After the night he had spent with you, he took what's most precious to you, and it was what was given to you by your deceased parents. There were years of work on it, seeing how the inside of the jewel was fading away from constant use. Sukuna noticed how the clasps were loose, most of all when he kept twisting the bangle around to feel every rigidity and bump.

The more he looks at it, the more something seems off.

Sukuna barely saw small noticeable lines on the inside of the bracelet; it was in the shape of a square. A small hidden compartment; if his keen and trained eyes missed that tiny detail, he deserved to be killed on a battlefield for not seeing an enemy, ambush, or assassination. Still, Sukuna was curious and grabbed a small wooden toothpick to unlock the small door.

He was surprised when multiple seeds fell out of the bracelet when he shook them out onto the table. The color of the sources was rather old, seeing how raisin and dried they were. Something stirs in his chest, and he doesn't like it. Sukuna's fierce eyes were glaring at the jarring sight before him. Cold like Hell has washed over.

"Someone, go and fetch me the doctor. Right. Now." His voice was low, with his wrath was barely concealed through clenched teeth. "Now!" Sukuna repeats their voice bellows out from his room to outside when no one makes a move to move. One male servant scamps away to do what they're told out of fear.

You're crafty. He gives you credit for that; whatever you're hiding, he would sniff it out. Sukuna then set the jeweled bracelet down and ran a hand through his hair; he puffs out a shallow breath. He's barely an anxious man, but his opinions of you and your sensitive nature slowly etched their way into his mind as he started to pick them apart one by one in a logical sense.

When emotions run high, clouds of judgment obscure his views. Sukuna is a man led by ideals and a futuristic sense; scarcely emotions ever run by him. He knew deep down when he allowed himself to feel emotions, it would cause him trouble, and he was right. Few selected people could be worthy of his regard, but to him, it didn't change his output of you very much. He dislikes being blind by someone, even so, he fully lets himself be when it comes to you, but seeing differently from a different angle, Sukuna should know that you're not soft and malleable.

You're like glass, pretty in the light, but there are still sharp edges around it. You shouldn't be underestimated. When he thought he had you at the center of his palm, you find a way to slip away. The game of chase was a back-and-forth thing, with its up and down.

Sukuna took another breath and exhaled deeply, pushing away the negative introspections.

You were busy interacting and directing where everything should go the next few days. It almost felt like a routine when you were dressed up as your alibi, Seijuro Hajime. Your breath fogs up in front of you, and your nose itches when cold air brushes against it; turning your head to the side, you sneeze.

"You should dress up warmer for the occasion," a voice snuck up behind you, and you froze for a quick second when a heavy cape was draped around your shoulders. Sukuna had made his presence known, and the servants around you suddenly worked harder than before. You were about to shrug off his cape, but his hands were on your shoulders, "Keep it on."

Another moment of pregnant silence passed through; no servants bothered to be in your and Sukuna's line of sight. They make sure to steer clear away from the invisible bubble that was presented around their Lord of the House. Sukuna presses his broad front against your back; you can feel his heat seeping through, then he slides his hands down your shoulders until it reaches your cold hands. His callous palms envelopes your own, and there was a minor battle of you struggling to tug it away.

"Could you please let me do my job," you patronize Sukuna, who only takes it as amusement and doesn't move an inch.

"No, I came here to spend time with my lovely wife." He tunes out, and his voice is much lighter, much chirpy to your liking. "Do you want to know what I discovered today?"

"No," flatly refusing him, one of Sukuna's hands retracted for a second, and you felt something cold and heard a slight click on your wrist. You look down to see your bracelet that has gone missing adorned your wrist. Toring yourself away, you whirl around to meet his eyes; you accuse him with a quiet, burning, seething look, "So it was you who took it."

The corners of his lips quirk up. You have spent days looking for your precious bangle, even flipping your room upside down. You didn't think it was this menacing man in front of you swiping it right under your nose during that day he had forcefully bedded you. You even thought that you lost it during your outing to the castle and that anyone could pick it up and pawn it to set themselves up for life.

"It was a pretty little thing; I know it was a special gift to you from your parents. So I took it as an inspiration to see your taste, as you never wore what I gifted. " Sukuna explains while lazily giving you a nonchalant expression without losing his carefree nature. He lops his head to the side, "And here's the fun part, I fixed your little bracelet problems for you."

You clench your jaws and roll your eyes again with a deep breath, "There's nothing wrong with it."

"No, no, no," Sukuna tuts out as if he's dealing with a lying child, "There is a problem with it. You, my lovely wife here, have been plotting something bigger against me this whole time." The light in his eyes darkened and was replaced with something entirely devious. Mentally preparing yourself, Sukuna brushes his knuckles against your cold, bitten, ample red cheeks. "There are many things I've been tolerating from you," Sukuna's tone reeks of hurt and betrayal, despite failing to mask it, "but not this."

The hand caressing your cheek was suddenly behind your nape; Sukuna grips, and for once, he didn't care how he made you look in front of his servants, who were surprised at his treatment. Many hold their breath and further avoid the personal bubble as they could see trouble brewing between you both. All we're opting the long way to complete their task.

"You know I always wanted a child with you, but seriously, basil seeds?" Sukuna let out a haughty laugh when he saw your expression crumble a bit from fear of realization that he knew. "Yes, I now know what has caused your infertility."

The smile he wore never seemed so big and scary in front of you. Your mind was repeatedly reeling that Sukuna knew. He. Knew. Now you're not safe, and you can no longer avoid his advances.

Sukuna could see the vulnerability displayed before him; this was what he was waiting for. You're so open for him to take and relish. "I admire the length you're willing to go, and honestly, I genuinely do." You don't know what will come out of his mouth anymore. "No one can save you from me now. Not even your precious bracelet."

[Days Ago]

Sukuna patiently waited for the physician to arrive at his headquarters while drumming his fingers against the dark red oak table. His eyes trail to your bracelet that sticks out like a sore thumb, along with the seeds. The doors to his room snap open as the physician enters. "Finally," Sukuna said out loud; he has patience, but not today.

The doctor stopped in front of Sukuna and greeted him with a bow. "Lord Sukuna, w-what seems to be the problem?"

The man smirked, "You always seem to tremble whenever you meet me, but never mind that," Sukuna motioned with his head where the bracelet and seeds lay, "Tell me what is on the table." The physician saw and quickly took action.

They took a seed and examined it before sniffing it, and a faint scent emitted. "My Lord, this is basil seed."

Sukuna: "Basil?"

"Yes, basil." They confirmed it.

"What's so special about it?" Sukuna asks with interest.

"Lord Sukuna, basil seeds are used for many things, and especially if consuming it, doing it in small quantities once in a while not to cause side effects. Too much may cause bloating and abdominal pain. This is also used to help... " The medic explains in tangent detail.

"Then explain why it was inside the bracelet." Sukuna cuts to the chase when asking about something the doctor does and tends to run their mouth sometimes.

"A-Ah, yes." He took the bracelet from the table, "May I ask who the bracelet belongs to?"

Sukuna: "(Name)."

The doctor should not be surprised it was you. They took a moment to examine the bracelet and saw the open compartment door and sniffed the inside of the bangle, and found traces of it. "My Lord, how long has Lady (Name) worn this bracelet?"

The sound of urgency in his voice caught Sukuna's interest. "For as long as I married her. It was from her parents. What's the problem?"

Since there was no time stamp on how long, the doctor could only conclude one thing, "If Lady (Name) has worn this for a long time, then the cause of her infertility could be this all along." The words are like a cold wake-up call from the doctor; Sukuna's eyelids droop low with fury. The thought of you, 'How dare you (Name).' The doctor nervously continues, "Long exposure to basil seeds entering the bloodstream could thin out the blood, affect her hormones, and even her menstrual cycles. This could also explain—"

Sukuna raised a hand for the medic to shut their mouth as he was complimented on how he should deal with you and what he had just learned today. At first, he took your bracelet to understand your personal preferences, then return it to you later, and now he doesn't regret stumbling onto your long secret by chance. The amount of time he had bed you and you failed to conceive a child was out.

"You're dismissed, and keep your mouth shut." Then he looks at the corner where Uraume resides, "Take the bracelet to get it modified from a nearby jeweler. Fix the clasps and seal the door."

•

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#fan fiction #jujutsu kaisen #masterlist #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #anime #sukuna ryomen #jjk fanfic #sukuna x reader #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere sukuna x reader #yandere sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere sukuna ryomen

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 4 months

Text

Down To Clown - M.YG

💦Who; Min Yoongi (BTS) x reader 💦What; Smut, producer/idol au/verse idk 💦Wordcount; 14kish 💦Warnings; they are both bi/pan, profanity, dirty talk, switch yoongi, switch reader, anal fingering(m), crying with pleasure, coming untouched, sex toys, lingerie, oral (m&f), marks, pegging, anal sex, multiple orgasms, oral fixation, biting, fingering, mentions of being infertile through choice, sex without a condom, penetrative sex, piv sex, cockwarming, somnophilia, choking, squirting, minor blood, mentions of knife play(it is not explored in this story)

Summary; You ask to finger one of your closest friends, he says yes and things get real fun after that.

Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio. -2024 Masterlist-

A/N- this was actually started 3 years ago with an OC so that i could get out my fantasy of topping yoongles, which means this was extremely self-indulgent. I just want to make Yoongi cry okay I've edited to the best of my abilities to change it from an OC to reader but if I've missed any pieces, pretend otherwise, thanks <3 @wonuvs enjoy, sweetheart 💖

The dark-haired rapper looks over exasperatedly at the third call of his name. "What?" He huffs when you don't say anything from where you're sitting cross-legged on the couch and instead chooses to hold his gaze with wide, round eyes that he would call innocent if he didn't know you better than that by now.

"You've been with guys, right?" You question slowly.

"Yeah?"

"And you've bottomed?"

"You already know this. Get to the point."

"I'm working on it," You pout, absently tracing your fingers over the strings of the guitar laid across your lap. "So you've had fingers in your ass?"

"Jesus, what the fuck?" He sputters in genuine shock at your out-of-the-blue question.

"You said get to the point!"

"I didn't think it would be about my ass,"

"It's not, really, just…asses in general. The male ass. With fingers. Guys getting fingered."

"Were you watching porn while hanging out with me?" He deadpans unimpressed.

"No." He gives you a disbelieving look. "Well not intentionally. I was on Twitter minding my own business and suddenly, bam! There was a gif of a guy getting fingered,"

"So you decided to watch it?"

"Yes,"

"Despite the fact that you claim to not watch porn?"

"I don't. Never been interested." You shrug and as much as Yoongi wants to argue and point out that people who aren't interested in porn don't watch porn gifs, he can't because he can see that you are being entirely honest.

"Right, okay." He lets out a breath, it sounds suspiciously like an exasperated sigh. "So you watched this gif and decided to bring up my sex life?"

"Well, I've always been curious about fingering a guy like, what it feels like and the prostate sounds interesting like can you actually feel it? It's wild, man,"

"You want to finger a guy?" He gawps, surprised by the revelation. You just nod. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Originally, I just wanted to peg a guy, I wanna know if I'd be any good with a dick and something about fucking a guy is really hot."

"I don't even know what to say," He murmurs truthfully. You shrug and run your hands over the guitar again, which draws his attention. "Well…your nails are short at least." He comments quietly.

"Easier for playing guitar and with myself."

"Holy fuck, you can't just…" He exhales and rubs his hands over his face.

"Sorry. I'm frustrated and my filter always vanishes when I'm like this."

"Frustrated about wanting to finger a guy?" He questions dropping his hands onto his thighs carelessly to look at you again.

"Well, yeah, I guess but I meant sexually frustrated, like horny."

"Fuck me," Yoongi murmurs but due to the lack of activity going on in the room, you hear it loud and clear.

"I don't have a strap-on," You reply with a frown that looks oddly genuine.

"A strap-on…wait I wasn't like asking." He rushes out, cheeks flushed as he understands what you mean.

"Oh," Your frown turns further downwards. "I'd probably be bad anyway."

"I've seen you dance, you can move your hips," He admits gruffly.

"Oh…in that case, your loss. I'd make you cum really good."

"Shut up," Yoongi grunts and shuffles in his seat while diverting his gaze elsewhere.

"Sorry." You remove the guitar from your lap to prop it back on its stand beside the couch without even getting up. Then you stretch out and slouch a little so that you can rest your head on the back of the couch with your bare feet planted firmly on the floor, legs spread in a way that your mother always scolded you for as it is 'unlady like'. "It's for the best anyway, I don't want to get sexually involved with someone who would just be thinking of someone else the whole time, you know?"

"What? Why are you assuming I'd be doing that?" He squares his eyes almost accusingly at you while crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because you're not attracted to me like that." Your response is simple, easy, as if it is common knowledge; a fact of the world you had learned a long time ago.

"Who says?" You raise a challenging eyebrow. "I'm not blind, you're hot as fuck."

"Doesn't mean you're down to clown though."

"Not if you keep talking like that," He huffs, sitting back further in his chair.

You straighten a little with hope beginning to sparkle in your eyes. "That sounds like you'd at least consider it if I used other phrasing."

Yoongi says nothing and keeps his lips pressed together. The smirk that lifts your lips tells him that he's about to meet a version of you that he has only witnessed in the dreams he will never admit to waking up hard from- sometimes even shaking and coming down from an orgasm. You sit up until you're fully upright though your legs remain spread and Yoongi hates how it does something for him, how much it does for him. He has never experienced a cocky female that isn't afraid to hold herself in a stereotypical male way and honestly, it's the best of both worlds for him.

"Yoongi, oppa, babyboy," You coo and he scoffs at the final term if only to hide and deny the blush winding up his neck. "Will you let me fuck you? Can I put my fingers in that pretty, perky ass of yours until you cum? Fuck, I bet you'd look so good being edged, so overwhelmed that you can't help but cry and babble absolute fucking nonsense while begging to cum." You murmur out, dark eyes growing heavier by the second.

"Fuck," Yoongi whispers, dick twitching in his boxers.

You don't respond and simply lean your right elbow on the backrest to lean your head against your fist. You just watch him, waiting; so patient for a response. Almost as if you're playing with him, taunting, teasing, offering him the best seat in the house only if he is brave enough to admit to wanting it and taking the first step. Part of him is certain that you aren't doing that at all, that you are genuinely just waiting for him to think it over. That you're not willing to rush him or put any pressure on him to answer in a particular way. But a brand new part of him doesn't have a fucking clue what you're capable of in the bedroom.

After a tense handful of moments where you simply hold each other's gaze while Yoongi's mind runs wild hidden safely behind his eyes, he turns back to his desk.

Even though you're disappointed, you had honestly expected as much so you don't stop to sulk or pout and instead reach back towards the guitar. You barely have your hand around the neck when you hear a drawer close a little too forcefully, especially as it's by Yoongi's hand, so you look back up and find that his programs are closed and only a music app is open. You release your grasp on the instrument and settle back to watch curiously.

Yoongi finds a playlist that you two often listen to; something full of smooth beats and low voices. As the first song starts, he gets up and turns. He has something in his hands but it's hidden, at least until he has crossed the small distance between you to toss it onto the couch seat on your right. You can't help but look down to find a little bottle of lube. "If you're serious about wanting to try, I'm down to clown," He speaks, drawing your attention back. He's nervous and embarrassed, it's obvious to you even if he's trying his best to hide it.

"Most definitely." You nod and straighten up even further before patting your lap firmly. "C'mere."

"You want me on you?"

"You have no idea," You almost snort with your amusement but hold it back. You pat your thigh again with your left hand while your right picks up the bottle.

"Oh right, uh, okay. Uhm, lemme just…" He quickly unzips his jeans to shuffle out of them and kicks them aside before moving forward to press his left knee on the outside of your right thigh. "I'm heavier than I look." He warns while gingerly placing his right knee on the other side of your thighs, one hand pushed against the backrest beside your shoulder for stability.

You roll your eyes and grab his hips to pull his body onto your lap. Yoongi hiccups on an inhale in surprise at the sudden action leaving him perched on your stable thighs with wide eyes. "I can handle it, don't worry,"

"You should know," He rushes out quickly, causing your hands to halt where they have started to run over his thighs, curious to explore the skin you have never seen exposed on him before. "I already cleaned up, I do every shower-"

"I know."

"H-how?"

"You told me when drunk once that you like to always be prepared to get dicked down. I figured out the rest due to the length of your showers, babe,"

"Oh…right…" He chews on his bottom lip, which almost matches the tint on his cheeks. "Oh well, I was going to say that you should always make sure your guy is cleaned first because you know…asshole."

"Yeah, I got it," You grin and squeeze his thigh a little, supportively, which only makes him jolt. "Are you sure you want to do this, oppa? I really won't be offended if you don't. I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anything."

"No, no, I do. S'just…we've been friends for a while now and I never thought anything like this would happen between us. And I haven't been touched by anyone but myself in so long it kind of feels like the first time."

"I'll go slow."

"I know. I trust you. Wouldn't be doing this otherwise," He huffs out a small laugh.

"I'm glad. I trust you too." You smile at each other for a moment, allowing the moment to get used to what you're planning to do, even only a little. "So, Mr Min, you're in charge here, I've no fucking clue what I'm doing so you kind of need to lead me."

"Oh, right, yeah," He inhales then pushes up a little to shimmy his boxers down under the crease where his ass meets his thighs, it allows him to keep his crotch hidden by the material just in case his t-shirt doesn't. He isn't quite prepared for one of his closest friends to see his flaccid dick no matter what you're about to get up to. When he settles back down he's unable to look in your eyes but you don't make him knowing how shy he must feel right now. "So uhm…you can start dry if you want, if you want to feel and get used to touching, just don't try and push in."

"You're okay with that?" He nods and takes the lube to fiddle with the bottle and free your right hand. You wait a second, just in case, before moving your hand around his body to curiously trail your fingers over his smooth ass, humming in approval at the lack of hair at all. "Smooth,"

"Yeah I uhm, I shave," He admits.

"Must be awkward,"

"A little." He sucks on his lip when your fingertip finds his rim and traces over it gently in an almost featherlight touch. "S'weird, right? Girls find it weird usually. For guys to be shaved."

"I don't like body hair on anyone regardless of gender. Wouldn't bother me much if you did have it, just that being hair-free is my preference."

"Does that mean you shave too?" He pointedly glances at your crotch.

"Wax, lasts longer,"

"Oh," He swallows when your left hand leaves his thigh to pluck the bottle from his hands giving him nothing to fiddle with. "I-I thought about trying but uh…seems hard to do alone."

"Yeah, kind of is," You admit, laughing softly and focusing on Yoongi's reactions to the sound of a cap opening and lube squirting out. He lifts his right hand absently to chew on the skin beside his thumb; an anxiety fuelled habit he's working hard to quit. "Hey," You lean forward to nudge the top of his head with your nose. He lifts it just enough to peer at you. "We can stop, seriously." You offer, tone genuine and soft. He shakes his head and quickly lowers his hand to grasp your shirt as if he has only just realised what he's doing to his poor fingers.

"I want to. Just nervous."

"What usually helps you relax with a partner?"

"Kissing."

"Do you want to kiss?" He blinks a few times before finding his eyes on your lips almost like he has never seen them before. "I'm more than happy to kiss you if it helps, baby,"

"O-okay," He nods.

"No, not okay. Don't just agree with me, this won't work if you're not 100%, Yoongi."

"I am." He nods, firmer and more confidently. "I want to. Wanna kiss you."

"Alright." You agree with a short nod of your own. The syllables almost get sucked back into your throat when Yoongi suddenly surges forward to connect your mouths.

You wait for a few minutes until Yoongi is entirely absorbed in kissing before you press slick fingers against his rim. He jolts and his mouth falters for a second before moving again, slower than before as if he's too busy focusing on what's about to happen compared to what he's doing. You don't blame him. At first, you just circle his hole curiously until he squirms a little impatiently, and only then do you edge the tip of your index finger inside. Yoongi inhales sharply but doesn't jump or pull away. You wriggle your finger a little before pushing in further.

"You gotta let me know if I hurt you," You warn once your finger is in as far as possible. Yoongi nods and reconnects your lips by grabbing your face and pulling it back to his. You chuckle with amusement against his lips but are more than happy to comply with his wishes.

You start a gentle, curious rhythm of softly prodding around inside punctuated with sliding your finger out then back in.

"M-more," He breathes out in no time at all so you comply, pulling your finger out to return with another beside it. Yoongi lets out a soft moan at the barely there stretch, just a little more pressure at your knuckles that makes him sigh happily.

"It's okay?" You wonder.

"Y-yeah, can go a little faster if you want."

"Okay, baby," You agree, doing as asked knowing it's more of a request than a suggestion. He's too shy to ask for what he wants so you're going to have to read between the lines and you've already mentally prepared yourself for that.

You watch his reactions to your ministrations, his closed eyes and parted lips, as his hips take barely noticeable movements; which you follow to do the best you can for him. And up until this point, you have entirely avoided his prostate. Yoongi assumes it's because you don't know where it is, that you are getting used to everything else first before trying to search for it. But you know where it is and haven't wanted to touch it yet. You wanted Yoongi to genuinely get used to your touch and enjoy it without his prostate being brought in.

When you pull your hand out and away entirely, his eyes open and he frowns at you with a little whine of complaint. "Why'd you stop? Are you finished?"

"No," You laugh and shuffle you both a little so that you can slide your arm in the gap between your spread thighs to reach underneath him and slide your fingers back inside. "This angle is better," You smirk and crook your fingers forward to press directly on his prostate. Yoongi's eyes roll back and he moans loudly. "Right?"

"F-fuck, I-I thought you didn't know…"

"What, where the prostate is?" You laugh as he wriggles on your hands at the attack of your fingertips relentlessly rubbing the sensitive patch. "I know exactly where it is, I've just never put it to use before."

"You su-sure?" His fingers knot in your hair when you wrap your free arm tight around his waist to hold him still, preventing his movements. "Shit, fuck,"

"You like being held still?"

"Fuck off,"

"Oh, really?" Suddenly, you stop your attack and pull out to lean back against the backrest with your elbows resting on the back. You lean your head on your left palm, the clean one, as the lube-slicked hand hangs limply.

"Wh-what?" Yoongi's eyes are wide with betrayal and desperation. "N-no, no, don't stop. Put your fingers back in my ass, come on." He whines, tugging at your arm but you hold it firmly in place making him whine and bounce a little with frustration. "Please?"

"Good boy," Your right hand hovers between your bodies. "More lube," He nods and squirts out a fair amount of lube onto your waiting fingers.

"Three now?"

"You want three?" You hum, sliding your arm back underneath to rub three fingers against his rim. He nods enthusiastically and tries to tilt his hips in a way to make them slide inside but you always move away with a grin.

"You're so mean,"

"I am." He pouts cutely making you giggle. "Okay, baby, I'll play nice." And you do, you slide two fingers back inside to stretch him out a bit more then add the third. "That okay?" You ask, moving carefully to allow him time to get used to it.

"Y-yeah, s'good."

"Yeah?" He nods and circles his hips down against your hand. "Can you cum untouched?"

Yoongi falls still and opens his eyes to look at you; he honestly hadn't even realised that his eyes had closed in the first place. "I've never tried." He admits.

"Can we try? I think it'd be really hot."

"Oh uh, okay," He agrees, cheeks flushing a little darker than the pleasure and slight exertion already has them.

"You can change your mind at any time, okay?"

"I know." He agrees, giving you a shy smile before leaning forward to return his lips to yours, so you straighten up and move your left arm from the back of the couch to wrap back around him.

You let him get used to the rhythm of your slow, deep kiss which you've matched the movements of your fingers and he his hips to, before, without warning, you push in harder and faster. Yoongi hiccups on a breath, which he doesn't have time to regulate before you pull out and repeat the action causing your hand to slap against his ass a little. What follows is a string of whines and groans and swears from Yoongi's open mouth, head tipped back and hips bouncing.

"So good, you're so good," He pants out, on the verge of mindlessness.

"I can be better," You promise. Yoongi's hole clenches at the thought making you groan a little. "You're so fucking hot, Yoongi."

Yoongi gasps and bounces harder feeling his climax nearing. Your fingers curl and rub against his prostate with every thrust and his movements grow more desperate. Your left arm returns around his waist to hold him still and force him to just take it, which causes an almost sob to break from his throat.

"G-gonna cum," He announces, instinctively moving his hand between your bodies but you remove your arm from around his waist to slap his hand away from where he almost has his cock in hand.

"Don't touch."

"Can't help it. Need it." He all but sobs, looking at you with wet, hooded eyes.

"No, you don't."

"But-" He reaches out again and you huff in frustration before pulling your fingers out of his ass. "No! No! No! M'sorry! I'll be good!" He begs. "Don't stop, please."

"I won't, baby, it's okay, I'm going to make you cum," You assure soothingly and press a kiss to his lips while wiping the tears trickling down his ruddy cheeks. "But you're unable to not touch yourself so we need to move."

"M-move?" He sniffles.

"On your back," He nods and scrambles off of your lap to lay on his back on the couch. He kicks off his boxers and spreads his legs ready for you. You admire him for a moment and only move when he wriggles self-consciously. "Sorry. You're so beautiful, you know that?"

"M'not," He huffs looking away as you turn to settle between his thighs on your knees and lay his thighs over your own.

"You are, don't argue with me." He pouts but doesn't argue further which you find very interesting. He has essentially submitted to you and all it took was having his prostate touched.

For a moment, you stop to wonder if he's always that quick to submit or if it's because he trusts you and hasn't been touched by a hand except his own in so long. After roaming your eyes over his pliant body under you, you decide that it's a thought for later though and wriggle a pillow behind his head to prop him up just a little into a more comfortable position against the armrest.

"Hands above your head, baby." He listens and lifts both arms to lay the backs of his hands against the armrest. When you lean over and cover his wrists with your left hand to pin them down, his eyes blow wide and a shiver runs through his body. "Oh that is a very interesting reaction, sweetheart, we'll have to talk about it later but now," You slide your fingers back into him, loving the way his eyes immediately roll back and his back arches a little as your fingertips drag over his prostate.

In this position, you can't stop Yoongi's hips jerking and doing their best to fuck himself back on your fingers that force consistent full moans from his open mouth that sound like they come from the bottom of his chest.

It's clear when Yoongi's teetering on the edge of his climax as his tone grows higher and his movements more desperate as his arms fight to be freed so that he can touch himself.

"Come on, baby, you can do it. Let me see how messy you can get without your cock being touched, huh? Gonna let me see what good boys can do, hm?" You encourage with your eyes darting all over him, stuck between watching his face and the outline of his cock hidden underneath his t-shirt due to the fact neither of you had thought to move it. You really wish you had pushed it up because the thought of seeing Yoongi cum all over himself probably does a little too much for you to be able to admit.

"M'a good boy," He parrots mindlessly.

"Prove it. Cum for me."

He whines and his legs pull up towards his his torso as his body curls in a little before a loud, long moan tears from his throat while his legs push out and his back arches, pushing his chest towards you with the force of his orgasm surging through his body. You remove the pressure on his prostate and slow your movements down enough to not overstimulate or hurt yet still ride him through the pleasure with the slow drag. When he slumps against the seat, chest shuddering with his heavy breaths, you gently remove your fingers making him shudder a little and whimper.

"It's okay, baby, you did so good for me. Such a good boy, thank you." You release his wrists yet he makes no attempt to move, too tired from the most intense orgasm he has ever experienced. "I'm going to get some tissues from your desk, okay? I'll be right back." Yoongi frowns and pouts at the thought of being left yet does nothing else, doesn't even open his eyes until you're back and gently wiping the lube from his ass. "Hey," You smile up at him when you notice he's more with it again, or at least enough to open his eyes. He pouts further. "What?"

"Kisses,"

"Oh," You giggle and lean over him to press your lips to his.

The kiss is much slower and looser than any before, a clear reflection of how sated and lazy Yoongi feels yet he still wants to kiss and softly lick into your mouth.

When you feel his movements get even slower, almost as if he's falling asleep while making out, you pull back. Yoongi whines and tries to chase your lips but he's back to not even bothering to open his eyes. "Let me clean you up and then if you're still awake, we can kiss more, okay?" You reason.

"Hm, fine," He slurs sulkily but remains still on the seat, hands above his head as his face turns towards the back of the couch.

"Are you okay with me lifting your t-shirt?" He hums and nods a little and you know that's the most you'll get from him so you gently lift the t-shirt out of the drying mess to hold up and away. You don't even take a second to take in the mess on his skin or his flaccid dick, just quickly and carefully wipe him up as best as you can before tossing out the tissues and returning the bottle of lube to what you hope is the correct desk drawer.

You return to the couch with Yoongi's hoodie and are about to ask him to sit up to change out of the dirty top yet find him snoring softly already. Instead, you shuffle his boxers back up onto his body and settle them snugly against his hips before gently and painstakingly removing the soiled t-shirt. You just about manage to get the hoody on his uncooperative body as he whines and tries to curl back against the cushions every time you almost accidentally rouse him out of his sleep.

Once you're done with your task, you admire his relaxed sleeping features for a moment too long and then settle up to his desk to watch some videos while he sleeps.

During a break in between episodes, you hear shuffling so remove the headphones and turn to find Yoongi shuffling to sit up while rubbing at his eyes. "Sleep well?" You ask softly.

He nods and yawns for good measure before stretching and then finally looking at you. "How long was I sleeping?"

"Couple hours."

"What?!" He baulks. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't have the heart to, you were pretty fucking exhausted,"

"Oh, uhm," He looks down at himself as the actions previous to his nap return to his mind. "So that happened…did you change me?" He tugs on his hoodie confused.

"Hm yeah, didn't think you'd appreciate waking up with a cum covered t-shirt."

"No yeah, right…thanks." He turns to sit properly and places his feet on the floor. "So uhm, are you sure you've never done that before?"

"Positive."

"But that was better than tops I've been with."

"Oh, really?" You beam proudly and he hums in confirmation with a nod. "Ah, well maybe it's because their intention isn't to make you feel good but to just get you ready so that they can stick their dicks in you." You suggest.

"Maybe." He shrugs and gets to his feet with a slight wince. "If this is how I feel with just your fingers, you'd destroy me with a dick." He comments while grabbing his jeans from the floor to wobble into. You get up to help steady him so that he doesn't fall on his ass.

"Would you let me?"

"What?"

"Fuck you, if I bought a strap-on?"

"Oh," He nods shyly.

"Words, baby, come on, you know the rules."

"Shut up." He huffs and bats you away while you snigger. You close down what you had been doing on the computer and return to the couch to flop down in a slouch. "Do you know where to buy one? A strap?" Yoongi glances at you as he buttons his jeans.

"Yep, the place I get my usual stuff from sells some interesting ones."

"I'm honestly concerned about what you mean by interesting."

"Look yourself." You get back up to sit at the desk and open up the adult toy store's website. "Sit," you pat your thighs. Yoongi only hesitates a moment before sitting on your lap so that you can look at the screen together.

"There is no way you're fucking me with that," He deadpans when you point out an honestly obnoxiously huge dildo with ridges.

"Oh, so I can fuck you then?"

"With a normal one, yes." He agrees and moves your hand from the mouse to scroll himself. "Here look, normal." He points to a very basic-looking realistic dildo.

"Boo, boring. At least try a tentacle." He glares at you making you laugh. "Joking. How big do you like?"

"Uhm just average is good."

"Bullshit, you scream size queen to me." Yoongi sputters but doesn't argue. "Find one that looks the best to you."

"This is embarrassing," He whines.

"No, it's not. Be a good boy and pick a cock to be fucked with, Yoongi," You hum against his neck earning a shiver. Yoongi doesn't hesitate to begin intently looking at all the options. "Hm, good boy." You press an approving kiss against his skin and wrap your arms around his waist to squeeze a little. He jolts in surprise but then shuffles a little to settle in your hold.

After a little while of careful consideration, Yoongi shyly points out the one he likes the best and wants to try with you.

"Okay, add it to the basket." So he does. "And now find a smaller one,"

"What?" He looks over his shoulder at you with a confused frown. "Why?"

"Because I've never done this before so I don't want to go in with that one first and hurt you. Start small and build up to it."

"Oh, okay, that's smart." He agrees and returns his attention to the computer. He doesn't take as long to find a smaller dildo and add it to the basket. "Need a harness now." He murmurs, clicking through to find the right section. "What kind do you want? There's underwear style ones with a connection on the front or ones that are essentially harnesses."

"I don't know. Maybe get one of each style to try?"

"Okay. What size?"

"I don't know, depends on their size guide. I haven't bought lingerie from this site so I don't know what their sizing is like."

"Lingerie?" Yoongi looks at you with interest. "You have lingerie?"

"Yeah."

"Oh…will you wear some for me?"

"You want me to?" He nods. "Okay. We can look on here too and see if there's anything in particular you'd like to see,"

"Why didn't we do this earlier?" Yoongi groans then leans over to kiss you for a moment. "You're the best."

"I know," you giggle and pat his thighs. "Find the size guide."

A few days later, Yoongi finds himself seated at the head of your bed with his back against the headrest watching you unpack the box in front of him.

The order had arrived that morning and you had excitedly texted Yoongi, and he had immediately cleared his evening plans. As soon as his work day was over, Yoongi rushed home to drop his stuff and shower thoroughly ready, and then quickly made his way to your apartment.

So here he is, both nerves and excitement running through his body knowing that soon, you will be fucking him. As each item is placed on the bed, Yoongi fidgets more and more. Just seeing the picture of the dildo on the side of the box has his dick plumping up. He doesn't know it, too busy staring down at all the new items, but you notice his fidgeting and reactions; the pink of his cheeks and the increased frequency of his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Even though you've only had one session of sexual activity together, you're pretty confident that you've correctly read his body language as rapidly growing arousal. For a few moments longer, you continue to unpack the large box but pay no attention to it and only watch Yoongi's intent, wide gaze on the items. His obvious arousal is making your own heat up under your skin.

Suddenly, you quickly repack almost everything making Yoongi jerk with concern and make a questioning noise.

"We can look at it after I've fucked you," You declare when Yoongi's confused eyes find your own darkening ones. Yoongi swallows thickly and nods dumbly. "Do you want me to put anything on?" You ask, motioning to the lingerie that you had left out. Yoongi looks at it, mouth open and genuinely considers it, whether he wants to see the lingerie or get fucked more. "If it helps, I'm wearing a set I already had under this." You point to your outfit of a zipped-up hoodie and basketball shorts. Yoongi swallows again and nods slowly. "What?"

"I wanna see that,"

"Okay," You giggle and toss the lingerie from the mattress into the box before picking the whole thing up and moving it to the floor out of the way. "I want to try the harness one today, it matches what I'm wearing." You grin excitedly while picking up the box containing the wet-look-style strappy harness.

"Matches?" Yoongi mutters. You hum. "Fuck," You peer up at him through your eyelashes and giggle before pressing one knee onto the mattress and leaning closer to him. "You're going to ruin me, aren't you?" He realises in a mumble.

"I'm certainly going to try," You reply a little breathlessly at the thought. You place your empty hand on his thigh to squeeze a little making his breath hitch and legs jolt, before you lift your hand only to slap his inner thigh gently and dart forward to place a disproportionately sweet peck on his lips. "I want you as naked as you're comfortable by the time I get back from the bathroom."

"O-Okay," He agrees easily. You grin then lower for a more thorough kiss, one that lingers even when you're out of the room, taking the harness and smaller dildo with you to clean thoroughly. "Fuck," Yoongi exhales and takes a second to gather his wits before getting up to quickly remove all of his clothing except for his boxers; a brand new set of tiny black shorts that does nothing to hide that his dick is hard and trying to escape from the waistband.

Yoongi feels very vulnerable and exposed as he sits there on the bed in nervous wait. He crosses and uncrosses his arms over his chest self-consciously a few times before reaching out to pick up the rather large bottle of anal lube left on the bed.

It's while he's reading the bottle to give himself something to do after removing the packaging so that it can actually be used, that you return sans shorts and with the unpackaged dildo in your hand. You pause at the doorway and stare at him causing him to put the bottle down so that he can fold his arms over his bare chest again.

"Shit, sorry, sorry, fuck, I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious," You apologise while rushing over. You carefully place the dildo upright on the side table beside the lube bottle before climbing up onto the bed and gently laying your hands over his arms. "You're just so beautiful, oppa, my brain short-circuited seeing you waiting for me on my bed like this. Like holy fucking shit, what kind of saint did I save in a past life to get Min fucking Yoongi waiting on my bed?"

"You don't need to be so dramatic," He huffs, though his cheeks are hot with his blush and he allows you to tug his arms to his sides.

"I'm not," He gives you a disbelieving expression. "I'm not! I swear! I'd never tell you empty words, Yoongi, you mean too much to me for me to ever even consider betraying your trust like that." Your words are so genuine that Yoongi can't help but believe them and accept the truth, making his body warm further understanding that you genuinely think of him in such a way.

"Good," He decides with a shy little nod. "Did you get the harness on okay?"

You hum and nod, leaning up onto your knees in front of him and lifting your hands to the zipper of your jumper. "Wanna see?"

"Of course I wanna-" He cuts off with a choke when you abruptly open the zipper revealing a glimpse of a crisscross of straps across the revealed skin of your torso. He doesn't even have it in him to curse under his breath when you remove the jumper to toss aside carelessly.

If all of his blood hadn't rushed south and left no brain power behind, Yoongi would seen that you definitely aren't as confident as you have been acting; your hands twitch at your sides and your teeth gently clamp on your bottom lip. But Yoongi is too hypnotised by your body wrapped in intricate lengths of black, wet-look material that make you look like the present of his wet dreams.

"So?" You ask what feels to you like at least ten minutes later when Yoongi still hasn't done anything but stare jaw dropped at you.

To your relief, your sudden voice snaps Yoongi back to reality and makes him drag his lust-darkened eyes up to yours. Without a word, he gets up until he's on his knees mirroring you, before taking your face into his hands to kiss heavily. The little noise you can't prevent from escaping your mouth makes Yoongi groan deeply and lower one hand so that he can wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer while he moves too until you're pressed together. Feeling the smooth latex under his hand has Yoongi's dick twitching back to life where it's pressed between your bodies. It makes you giggle upon feeling it before pressing your body forward just enough to make Yoongi groan at the pressure.

"I assume that's a good reaction?" You hum breathlessly when the kiss breaks, and you motion to yourself to show that you mean his reaction to how you look.

"You have no idea how sexy you are to me," Yoongi replies a little dumbly making you giggle through your blush. "I'm really fucking glad you got this harness and ignored my hesitation on the wet look. I never knew I was into it until now."

"I have a wet-look dress." You inform. "And I'm going to wear it when we next all go out just to wind you up."

"Please don't make me get hard in public, I'm an idol," He whines. "I can't be caught with a boner,"

"Guess you better learn to control your dick then," You grin and nudge him back. "Lay down, I really wanna get my hands on your ass as soon as possible, I've been thinking about this non-stop for four days."

"You have?" Yoongi replies while doing as told and moving backwards until he's laid down in the centre of the bed with his head on the pillows. You hum in confirmation while taking the chance to rake your eyes over his body hungrily. It makes Yoongi's body warm to see how much you like his body, even though he doesn't think it is anything special at all. "M-me too," He admits, causing you to look up at his face and smile softly at him. He smiles back shyly before bravely reaching down to hook his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. Your eyes immediately snap down to watch as he slowly pushes his underwear down until he has to lift his hips up to slide them over his ass and to his thighs where you take over and carefully remove the cloth entirely from his body to drop to the floor beside the bed.

And then you look back at him to take him in in his fully nude state. Your cheeks visibly warm and your mouth drops open just enough for your tongue to poke out and prod your bottom lip. "Can I suck your dick?" You ask bluntly, licking your lips again.

"Really?" You nod and shuffle closer until Yoongi has to spread his legs to allow you to kneel between them with your hands on his smooth thighs. "Y-yeah," He agrees, nodding quickly even if you're entirely enraptured by his erection so don't see his action.

Without hesitation, you lower down onto your left elbow and wrap one hand loosely around his erection just to hold it up and allow you to slide it into your mouth enthusiastically. Yoongi's hips instinctively kick up at the sudden wet warmth and he curses, reaching out to slide his fingers into your hair. You make a happy sound around his length and wiggle your hips as you work him in your mouth, which draws Yoongi's attention to your ass where it's stuck up in the air and showing off your curves in the straps.

"Jesus, fuck," He grunts. "Fucking-fuck-look at you," He breathes out, eyes dragging over your body and down to where your lips are wrapped around his dick, eyes up on him. He swears again. "You need to stop or I'm going to cum," He warns.

You heed his warning and pull off with a soft laugh. "I was there for like ten seconds," You point out amusedly.

He shrugs and looks away embarrassed, only to look back with a gasp when you attach your mouth to his inner thigh to suck a bruise into. "Shit," He chokes, legs shaking a little. Suddenly overcome with desperation, he reaches out to grab the lube and shove it against your shoulder.

"Hm, okay, baby," You agree, sitting up on your knees again so that you can take the bottle and pump some of the contents onto your fingers. "Do you want it like this or a different position?" You ask, putting the bottle aside on the mattress for when you need it again.

"This," He answers, grabbing a spare pillow to wiggle under his hips. "Wanna see you,"

"Okay," Your smile is happy and you lean down over him to press your lips to his. Yoongi lifts both hands to gently hold your face as you kiss slowly and deeply. His breath hitches as your wet fingers touch his rim but he doesn't stop kissing you. A little whimper leaves his throat as one finger slowly edges in. You make a curious sound at the much less resistance compared to the last time you had your fingers inside of Yoongi, yet say nothing and add a second. "Did you already finger yourself?" You ask, unable to stop yourself as you can already add a third.

"Y-yeah," He confirms. "Is that okay? Are you upset?"

"I mean, usually I would definitely like to prep you myself, your ass is the eighth wonder of the world-" He rolls his eyes making you laugh, "But I honestly think it's best to not get me that turned on today so that I can have at least some self-control when fucking you for the first time."

"Fingering me turns you on?" You nod. "Oh, I didn't realise, you seemed normal last time."

"I wanted to focus on you too much to pay attention to it. But after, jeez, I had to watch a very dry show to calm myself back down," You snigger with amusement at the memory.

"M'sorry," You frown confusedly down at him and remove your fingers from his ass. He's about to complain but notices you're reaching for the dildo so instead presses his lips together.

"For what?" You wonder.

"What?"

"You apologised. Why?"

"I fell asleep,"

"Yeah?" Your head tilts down as you look at the harness so that you can attach the dildo properly.

"I didn't get you off," You laugh a little. "What?" He frowns. "Why's that funny?"

"All I wanted was to finger you, I didn't want you to do anything but cum yourself and you definitely did that so I was more than happy with your involvement, oppa, there was nothing else I wanted from that experience."

"So, you didn't want to cum?" He looks at you disbelievingly until you lift your head having successfully attached the toy after a little fiddling.

"It wasn't the plan, no,"

"But did you want to?"

"I mean, I haven't been that turned on in a long time, well until now. But if I wanted to cum, I could've gone and taken care of it while you were asleep. Just because I made you cum, it doesn't mean you owe me one, that's not how this works, Yoon,"

"I know," He mumbles, running his hands down your body to finger the harness until he locates the dildo and can wrap his hand around it and tug, forcing you to get closer between his spread-wide thighs. "But I want to. Wanna make you feel good,"

"You do, trust me, you do," You assure before pressing a sweet, short kiss to his lips. "Can I fuck you now?"

"Definitely," He nods, eyes wide with anticipation.

With excitement in your eyes, you reach down to knock Yoongi's hand from the dildo so that you can apply more than enough lube. Yoongi is staring at you questioningly when you look back up at him.

"What? I like it messy," You giggle shyly and look back down so that you can watch as you guide the toy to Yoongi's awaiting hole.

"You do?" You nod. "Me too," You grin brightly up at him, happy at the shared interest before slowly pushing your hips forward. Yoongi's eyes widen a little and his lips part as he's breached by the toy.

"Okay?" You worry.

"Yeah, keep going," He confirms, looping his fingers into the straps over your hips to pull you towards him at a speed quicker than you would've moved yourself but if anyone knows Yoongi's limits, it's Yoongi himself so you let him. In no time at all, your hips are pressed flush to him and he's breathing a little heavier at being full. "Fuck me, come on, fuck me," He breathes out encouragingly, removing his fingers from the straps to give you control back and instead press his palms to your waist.

"Okay, baby," You hum, press a kiss to his chest before leaning up onto your haunches and use your hands to press Yoongi's thighs open further.

Yoongi swallows thickly and knows he will never come back from this the same and you haven't even moved yet. And then you do, slowly dragging back before shoving forward and knocking a moan from Yoongi that he wasn't aware he could produce. You smirk at him before tightening your hold and repeating the action.

"F-fuck," He stammers, gripping the bedding beneath him in an attempt to ground himself. You've only thrust twice and he's already leaking on his stomach.

"Okay?" He nods madly. "Hm, let's get that better," The look on your face is a little dark and very determined and Yoongi keens before you've even pulled back out.

This time, you adjust your position a little to get yourself better leverage to essentially pull back and then pound into Yoongi while simultaneously rolling your hips and causing Yoongi's back to arch and his eyes to roll back. He's not going to last at all.

It's not even a minute of the unbelievably good fucking later that Yoongi wraps a shaking hand around his cock to tug at it desperately for only a few seconds before his body pulls tight and he comes all over his torso. You watch the whole ordeal with hooded eyes and an open mouth as you pant from exertion and arousal. Not knowing if Yoongi gets overstimulated quickly and not wanting to hurt him, you quickly slow your movements and stop when his hand falls from his cock.

While Yoongi lays there breathing heavily with his chest heaving and eyes closed, you pull out and remove the dripping toy from the harness. Without a word, you get up and move to the bathroom to rinse off the toy and leave it on the counter to wash properly later, and then you grab a washcloth to dampen it and return to Yoongi. He blinks his eyes open when you clamber back onto the bed and start to clean him up.

By the time you're finished cleaning his chest and ass up, Yoongi's breathing is back to normal and he's watching you, looking more satisfied than you've ever seen him.

"Hey," You smile as you settle beside him, washcloth on the side table behind you. He purses his lips at you so you lean forward to kiss him slowly. When you pull back, you remain on your side propped up with your head on your left hand. "How you feeling? I didn't go too hard, did I?"

"I'm pretty sure how quick I came answers that," he huffs, pouting at the ceiling. "Swear I'm not usually that quick."

"It was hot, I don't mind the time frame," you reply honestly and lean down to kiss his shoulder. "I knew you'd look good cumming on yourself," you hum against his skin. "Wish I had photographic memory so I never forget a moment of that sight."

"Shut up,"

"I'm being serious!" You lift up and pout at him. "I'm sad that I won't forever remember it that well."

"Well…it's not like that's the only chance you'll get to see it," He shrugs, turning onto his right side to face you so you lower to lay down too. "I can't get over how good you are at these sexual things you've never done before."

"I'm naturally gifted,"

Yoongi chuckles and nods. "Yeah, you are. I'm both scared and excited to see how much better you'll get with practice. You're going to own my ass in no time, I won't be able to fuck anyone else because they won't be as good as you. Fucking Pavlov me,"

"Don't think that's the right term but I'll take it," He doesn't respond and instead shuffles closer to kiss you.

Yoongi's left hand travels down to hold onto one of the strips of material over your ribs. "How hard is this to get off?"

"A lot," He groans. "Why?"

"Wanna eat you out," Your eyes blow wide. "I can't tell what that look means,"

"No one's said that to me before," You admit softly.

"What?" Yoongi's frown is beyond offended. "How could no one say that to you?" He huffs and leans up while nudging you onto your back. You go willingly with a shrug. "Well, I really want to. Can I?" You nod and reach down to unclasp the buckles of the harness. Yoongi shuffles down the bed so that he can pull it off your legs once you've opened it. "How do we-" he cuts off when he looks up and realises that the straps of the lingerie have been designed to leave your crotch entirely bare. "Fuck," Immediately, Yoongi lowers down onto his stomach between your thighs and presses them wider to stare at where you're glistening with arousal. "How is all of you so fucking perfect?" Even though it's a question, he's really talking to himself, his voice low and thick with arousal. Yet even if he is talking to you and expects a response, you wouldn't be able to form one, voice stuck in your throat with nerves. "Tell me if I do something you don't like, okay?" He speaks, leaning up enough to make eye contact with you. You just nod, cheeks flushed pink and your bottom lip sucked nervously between your teeth. Yoongi shoots you a gentle smile then lowers to press a soft kiss to your hip.

You watch intently as Yoongi trails soft kisses across your skin and over the shiny fabric digging slightly into your thigh due to your legs being spread by Yoongi's hands. He stops at your inner thigh in between two straps, seemingly entranced by the little bulge caused by the material.

As if he doesn't have any control, Yoongi opens his mouth a little wider and clamps down making you gasp. The noise brings him back to reality and he almost pulls off but as he's releasing his jaw, your gasp fully registers and he realises that it wasn't a bad gasp at all. Instead of continuing to open his jaw, he closes it further and fights down his own groan feeling his teeth press into the giving flesh before he sucks a little harsher than he normally starts off yet you whimper and your left hand flutters atop his head in a way that feels as if you want to grasp but aren't brave enough. So Yoongi sucks harder, borderline painfully and is rewarded with fingers in his hair and grasping securely, encouragingly. Yoongi suckles the spot for a moment longer before pulling off with a pop.

You both eye the bright red mark and admire the indents left by his teeth before Yoongi suddenly darts down again. You had expected him to attach to the mirrored spot on your other thigh but he shocks you by suctioning to the soft, smooth flesh over your pubic bone, so close to your clit that it makes it tingle. You're so caught off guard that the moan of pleasure escapes your mouth before you can stop it.

You loosen your right hand from the sheets with every intention of lifting it to cover your mouth in embarrassment; it was too loud of a noise for such a small act in your mind. It seems Yoongi knows you too well though despite never having done anything like this together before, as his left hand quickly darts up and grabs your wrist causing you to fall still. You blink down at him and find his dark eyes on you warningly. Your arm twitchs upwards and his grip tightens even as his mouth neither moves to detach or do anything more. Yoongi's eyes square a little, a silent command and although you don't really listen to anyone usually regardless of circumstance, you nod obediently and relax your arm. Yoongi's gaze relaxes and he directs your hand to your own thigh just so that he can link your fingers together while also allowing him to still keep pressure on your thighs to have them remain open for him.

Really, Yoongi would've loved to take advantage of the fact that you're the first person to seem to like the rougher biting his gums always ach for, but he's determined to give you the best head you'll ever have before his oral fixation kicked in and now he's reminded of that upon seeing the way you actually submitted to him, even a little. He decides that you definitely deserve a reward for that alone.

Only a little reluctantly, Yoongi slowly releases his suction and pulls back just enough to allow the sight of the forming bruise to shoot a lick of arousal into his stomach before he lowers even further to softly trail his tongue up your folds, carefully avoiding your hole and clit not wanting to jump in too fast for you on your first time receiving oral. A fact that honestly makes him kind of angry; how could no one have offered to go down on you? It's vile and selfish in his mind and he wants to give you the best experience he possibly can. You don't make any noise in response so he doesn't know if you like it but, at the very least, you don't try to remove either of you from the situation so you're willing to let him continue.

For a few minutes, Yoongi keeps his actions relatively soft everywhere he touches yet he still doesn't gain much of a response from you. You're breathing a little heavier and he can see that your eyes are closed and you do look like you're enjoying yourself but you're quiet. If he hadn't heard a moan moments before, he would assume that you're just quiet in general during sex but he had and he wants more. You sounded so good he honestly wants to record you to replay back when he's alone with a hand in his pants. Maybe you're just not that into oral.

Not wanting to be a letdown, Yoongi carefully tugs his hand free from your grasp and presses your own palm to your thigh. When he sees your fingers curve a little to hold your thigh he smiles to himself and presses a finger to your hole lightly; a warning of what's to come. You don't pull away so he slowly presses in, watching entranced as you swallow him up with no issue. Feeling you ready to take another, he pulls out and adds another finger alongside the first and watches all the same as soft, wet heat envelops them both happily. Although there isn't much resistance per se due to how wet you are, there's definitely more pressure on his fingers, especially around his second knuckle. He looks up to watch your reaction as he pushes in, in case any sign of discomfort appears.

Your eyebrows furrow the tiniest amount and your mouth drops open a little wider as a stuttered breath leaves. Your hips push down a little, shyly almost and all worry leaves Yoongi. You like it and want more. So, he gives it to you, pushing his fingers in completely, only slightly faster than his original pace but you immediately react and suck in a breath.

Suddenly, it hits Yoongi that you had reacted so strongly enough to moan when he was being harsh and rough. You like the borderline pain and firmer actions, not the soft gentle touches he has been trying thinking it will be the best move for your first time.

With this revelation, Yoongi attaches his mouth directly to your clit and sucks while pulling his fingers out just to the second knuckle where they're widest and using that girth to stimulate your opening. Immediately, you gasp and moan breathily, tightening your fingers in his hair enough to make him moan around your clit.

The pace Yoongi takes up fucking his fingers into you is fast and just a level below hard considering he isn't left-handed and the angle isn't the easiest to navigate while he's toying endlessly with your clit with his mouth; teeth included making his own body sing with arousal. He's definitely hard and leaking between the mattress and his stomach.

Yoongi can't believe how worked up he's getting so quickly. Sure, he always loves giving oral, especially if it means he also had his fingers in a wet, warm hole, but he never gets hard from it after already being fucked so well. But you react so well to his rough actions and you seem to love the intensity of his oral fixation allowing him to really suction and bite as much as he wants.

Honestly, if he couldn't feel you tightening around his fingers and your hips shaking with the effort of keeping still, Yoongi would be certain that he's much more into the activity than you are. But your approaching orgasm is clear, especially with your frequent little moans growing closer together and higher in pitch. Though he does kind of wish you wouldn't control yourself like that, he kind of really most definitely wants you to fuck his face. Maybe he'll have to ask you to sit on his face one day and preferably very soon.

"Yoon," You warn with a gasp, eyes flying open to stare down at him but his eyes are closed and focused, though he does squeeze your thigh a little to show that he heard and understands. You let your eyes close again and your head tips back as the pleasure teeters right on the edge.

One more run of Yoongi's teeth over your swollen clit sends you tumbling over, cursing as the orgasm shoots through your body quickly. Usually, it'd be over as quick as that but Yoongi hasn't stopped his movements, if anything he seems more eager to lap around his fingers and fuck into you. He even curls his fingers up into that spot he's located but not focused on, to now focus on it and apply an almost torturous amount of pleasure that's borderline painful with the orgasm barely even over.

"Oh, fuck," You whine, curling your fingers tight enough into your thigh that your short blunt nails dig in sharply.

A second orgasm hits out of nowhere and you gasp deeply, curving your back at the intensity and losing all control of your hips. Yoongi moans deeply as he's forced face-first into your pussy where he happily attaches his mouth to suck yet another bruise harshly.

As soon as you've mostly come down from the second orgasm to the point that you're mentally back on earth you tighten your grip on Yoongi's hair to tug him up even though he makes a noise of complaint at being pulled away from eating you out, so that you can kiss him heavily, careless of your taste on his tongue and lower face that's glistening with it. That at least stops his complaints and he quickly settles into the kiss, lowering down his top half but keeping his hips up so that his naked erection doesn't touch you. You realise what he's doing and hook your legs over his hips to tug him down making him groan deeply as his erection slips against your slick skin.

"Can't believe you got me hard already," He grunts, lowering his head to kiss down your neck. You turn your head to give him better access and when he starts to suck, you grind your hips up against him. "Fuck," He pants.

"Want you to fuck me," You admit a little breathlessly.

"Seriously?" You nod and whine a little while grinding harder and feeling his hard length rub firmly over your clit. "Shit, okay, condom?" You shake your head making him sigh. "Then-"

"I'm clean and got my tubes tied," You inform, turning your head to him when he pulls back to look down at you.

"Me too, clean and vasectomy," He mumbles in disbelief. Your eyes light up with excitement that reflects in his. "So we're both free of transmittable diseases and infertile," He summarises.

"Which means you can fill me up and make a mess."

"Fuck," With no reason to hesitate- or the will to - Yoongi reaches down to grip his erection and line up with your entrance. Your legs drop to the mattress to spread wide and Yoongi pushes in.

"Ah, fuck," You whimper as he pushes in, eyes fluttering closed and hands gripping his sides.

"You okay?" You nod rapidly. "Doesn't hurt?"

"Feels good,"

"Y-yeah," He agrees, lowering his gaze to watch as his cock fills your pussy and leaves his vision, buried snugly in your warmth. "Fuck, feel so good, baby," Your eyes blink open at the petname to look at him in surprise. "What?"

"Baby?" He's genuinely puzzled for a second before he recalls that he just called you that without thought and his cheeks warm with embarrassment.

"Sorry, didn't realise."

"I'm not opposed, like at all, fucking love petnames," You admit easily and lift your arms to wrap around his neck loosely while a mischievous glint appears in your eyes. Before Yoongi can question what exactly that means, you rock your hips making him suck in a sudden inhale and shudder at the unexpected friction on his cock. You burst into laughter at his reaction and flop down onto the mattress. "Did you get possessed?"

"Shut up," He huffs, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "You surprise attacked me,"

"Surprise attacked," You cackle hands cupping your own cheeks and fingers pressing into where your cheeks bunch the highest.

Yoongi pouts at you which only makes you giggle; a different kind of laugh, one more adoring for his cute expression but it still isn't what he wants and he's feeling petty. Without warning he pulls back his hips then slams forward, punching a strangled gasp of pleasure from your mouth as your hands fly up to brace against the wooden poles of the ornate headboard. Yoongi smirks at your wide-eyed and open-mouthed expression then reaches up to brace himself with one hand against the flat of the headboard while his other slides under your lower back until he can wrap his arm around you enough to hold your body still. And then he wastes no more time and starts almost brutally fucking you.

It's intense and pleasurable in a way you're not used to; of course, you have been fucked hard before but it was never like this. Not because people haven't tried but they simply can't pull the pleasure from your very soul like Yoongi seems to be doing.

Even if you want to, you wouldn't be able to stop the stream of pleasured sounds leaving your open mouth, but you don't even want to, don't feel like hiding as you aren't the only one who seems unable to clamp their own vocals. Yoongi is just as loud as you are and it honestly only turns you on even more.

Usually, both you and Yoongi like to talk to your partners; check in and praise them, talk dirty and tease but neither of you has it in you to do it, can't talk if you try, not past the occasional swear or utter of the other's name or a petname. Yoongi quickly takes up calling you 'princess' and you have to admit, you really fucking like how it sounds from his lips. Others have tried to use the petname with you before but you could never take it seriously and tended to laugh or to fuck off, depending on the situation. Yet with Yoongi, it sends warmth to your chest that trickles into your stomach and lower to add to the quickly-growing impending orgasm.

Yoongi has no idea how he's keeping up the pace, his chest is heaving and his thighs burning and he's certain he's so close to getting a cramp in his left asscheek somehow but he can't give any mind to it, it's all on you and how fucking good you feel wrapped around his cock. You keep sporadically squeezing him and he doesn't know if it's a sign of a nearing orgasm or just how you feel pleasure but either way, it feels beyond fucking words and he both never wants it to end and is chasing his orgasm desperately. He wants to fill you up and then watch his cum spill out from your pussy afterwards. Fuck, maybe you'll even let him fuck it out of you, perhaps in the shower once he has his strength back after a much-needed nap.

When you remove one hand from the headboard and shove it down between your bodies to play with your clit roughly, Yoongi makes certain to keep his movement the same to not ruin your pleasure. Watching you touch yourself all but shoves him headfirst over the edge and his hips jerk unintentionally as his orgasm hits, spilling cum into you with a few breathless moans of your name. Your breath hitches in response before you're squeezing him tight, earning more pleasured curses to fall from his mouth as he feels your orgasm in the rhythmic tightening of your walls pulsating around his cock.

Slowly, you both fall still with closed eyes and heavy breathing as you ride out the aftershocks and last dregs of pleasure.

"Jesus fuck," Yoongi's the first to speak some minutes later when he finally has his head screwed on relatively straight and is only panting a little. You laugh at his comment but it's definitely an agreeing sound. Jesus fuck indeed.

"I'm not sure who is gonna Pavlov who here," You muse, reaching out to cup his face in both hands. "C'mere," Yoongi goes willingly, lowering down and wincing a little as he feels his soft dick slipping out but neither comment on it, too interested in kissing; happy and sated and kind of lazy but it's good.

When the kiss breaks, Yoongi clambers off of you and drops down at your side, sinking on his right side comfortably against the pillow and letting his body relax. "I need a nap," He mutters earning an amused giggle while you turn onto your left side to face him. "Actually no, fuck a nap, need a coma,"

"You're ridiculous,"

"If you tell me you still have the energy to fuck, you're insane,"

"I mean…give me like ten minutes to get a drink and yeah, I probably could,"

"Fucking hell, you're going to kill me," He groans, turning his head into the pillow but the noise isn't exactly one of argument.

"Good way to go though, right?" You grin and he looks back at you with a chuckle.

"Definitely," He reaches out with a heavy arm to tug on the straps over your stomach. "C'mere, oppa wants to spoon his princess,"

"Are you trying to get fucked?" You comment, making him snort out a tired laugh. Instead of going to him, you roll out of bed making him whine and pout in complaint. "I'll be right back, I really do need a drink,"

"Hurry," He mumbles, letting his eyes flutter close.

You hobble to the kitchen as quickly as you can so that you can gulp down as much cool water as possible without making yourself sick and then you refill your glass. You're about to fill a glass for Yoongi too but considering how tired he is, you know he won't sit up even to drink if his mouth is dry. So you find a bottle with a straw that you hope won't spill if on its side and fill that with cold water instead.

You return to your bedroom and place your glass down before tucking the bottle by Yoongi and guiding the straw into his open mouth. He's pretty much asleep but the touch wakes him and although he doesn't know what's going on in his sleep-addled mind, when you tell him to drink and tap the straw on his lip, he wraps his lips around it to do as told and gropes around until he finds the bottle to hold steady without opening his eyes. You take the chance to struggle your way out of the lingerie on your body and toss it aside to deal with later.

By the time you clamber back onto the bed, Yoongi's fallen asleep again, bottle still held and straw to his lips. You giggle amusedly and remove the item, making him snuffle awake again. Once the bottle is beside your glass, you shuffle down with your back to him and pull his arm over your waist.

Yoongi hums happily and shuffles closer until you're pressed together and his face is in your neck. He inhales deeply and tightens his arm around your waist, tucking his hand up by your chest and that's when he suddenly realises that he can feel nothing but skin against his own. He jolts up a little onto his right elbow and peers blearily down at you. You watch his expression from over your shoulder, you see the fatigue slip away and his tongue wet his lips as he notices that for the first time, you're completely naked.

"You're naked," He mumbles, tracing his left hand over your waist and hip, watching the trail his touch takes. You just hum in confirmation and allow him to touch all the new skin he can see. "Beautiful," He sighs out and then lowers back down to curl around your back. You can feel his dick against your ass and it has definitely plumped up a little in the past moments, and, of course, you just have to tilt your hips back to brush your ass against it. He nips your shoulder in retaliation earning a giggle. "I'm too fucking tired right now, baby,"

"I like cock warming," You pout, grinding back against him. "Don't you wanna be all snug as you sleep?"

"You're fucking ridiculous," He huffs, amusement in his tone before pressing his hips forward against you. "Go on then, you get me hard, you can warm me as much as you want while we sleep."

"What if I can't sleep?" He makes a curious sound. "I usually can sleep no problem with a cock in me but something about you brings out the deviant in me so…what's your stance on somnophilia?"

"The fuck's that?"

"Sleep sex,"

"You want to have sex while we sleep?"

"I'd be awake if I can't sleep, dumbass,"

"Shut up, m'tired," He bites your shoulder a little harder this time, but that just makes you curve into him and press your ass harder against his gradually hardening dick. "Fuckin-" He inhales and purposely moves his mouth away from your skin so that he won't give in to temptation again because he's pretty sure if he does bite you again, you'll definitely wind up going for another intense round and he's certain he can not physically handle that until he wakes up again. He's never been so exhausted from sex alone.

"So?" You prompt when he remains quiet behind you. "I'm personally into it either way,"

"Mm, I dunno, just go to sleep for now, baby,"

"Okay, oppa," You agree and pull your hips away from him, giving his dick space to breathe and soften without your touch. Yoongi hums appreciatively and curls his arm back around your waist though makes sure to keep his hand away from your chest, he knows that if he feels your breasts he will not be able to get to sleep until he has sufficiently played with them.

When you're almost asleep, Yoongi speaks up in a low rough tone, close to sleep himself. "If you wake up and I'm hard, do what you want,"

"Yeah?"

"Mm, just try not to wake me."

"Okay, oppa," You smile to yourself and snuggle in close, smiling a little more at the kiss pressed to your head.

To your absolute joy, when you wake a little under an hour later, you and Yoongi are pressed so close together that his dick has hardened in his sleep. You grin to yourself and although you're barely awake, you know what you want so you painstakingly move into a better position so that when you reach behind yourself and carefully hold Yoongi's erection, you can guide it into yourself making you sigh in happiness. You really do like being full. You peer over your shoulder to make sure you haven't woken Yoongi then shuffle again, sliding further onto his length until you're pressed tight up against him. You watch Yoongi's face contort and little huffs of breath escape his lips from the pleasure but he doesn't wake so you settle back down and are soon back asleep.

You aren't surprised to have a sex dream, though you are surprised by just how vivid it is. You've had similar kinds of dreams before where you're actively seeking pleasure in a lucid-dreaming kind of way, but you usually wake up before achieving your orgasm goal. But this time, you wake up with the force of the dream orgasm that turns out to be real.

"Fuck," Yoongi curses roughly behind you, one hand on your hip as he rocks into you.

"Oppa?" You mumble sleepily looking over at him, cheeks warm with the pleasure but eyes barely open.

"Hi princess," He greets with a smile tilting towards a smirk. You whine and push back against him. "You want more?" He asks, his own cheeks slightly pinkened from fucking you as you sleep without moving your position to not wake you. You nod and reach down to move his left hand from your hip and place it on your sternum instead. "Alright, whatever my princess wants," He agrees, leaning forward to press a kiss to your jaw while moving his hand to cup your left breast. "Didn't know your tits are so big," He comments lowly as he returns to rocking into you slow and deep. "Hide 'em so well."

"H-have to, get looks oth-" Yoongi hits a real good spot with that thrust making you cut off with a whine as your eyes roll back. "Yoon," You plead.

"Alright, fuck," He shuffles closer and lays his palm flat on the top of your chest to hold you back against him before rabbiting into you while barely pulling out meaning he keeps hitting that same spot rapidly making you whine and writhe and gasp out his name. "Good girl,"

The tingle in his teeth returns as he stares at the mostly faded teeth marks on your shoulder from before sleep. He knows those marks will be soon gone with no evidence, no bruise left behind and that doesn't sit well with him. So Yoongi leans down to attach his mouth harshly over the same spot. You jerk in response and automatically his hand lifts to restrain you and wrap around your throat. You instantly fall still as your walls squeeze him tight. Yoongi gasps against your shoulder and removes his hand but you whine in serious complaint, locking your grasp on his arm.

"Are you sure?" He asks as you lead his hand back to your throat. You nod madly. "Words, please, baby, I need verbal confirmation to do this. It's dangerous and-"

"Yes yes, I want it, choke me, oppa, please," You plead, turning your head just enough that your wet gaze meets his and he can see the truth and desperation in your eyes. "Please?"

"Fuck, okay, kick me if it's too much or you need a break or change your mind or-"

"I won't." You sound so certain that Yoongi can only nod and curl his fingers to show that he's more than willing. There's practically no pressure to his touch yet you still gasp and slump against the pillow as your eyes flutter shut.

Yoongi licks his lips and takes a second to compose himself before he applies a little pressure. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp but otherwise, you're practically boneless on the mattress, entirely trusting your vulnerability to him, submitting to him in a way nobody ever has before. Yoongi growls a little and doesn't even have it in him to question himself there before he returns to fucking you, rougher than before with longer strokes yet still successfully pulling moans from your parted lips.

He waits a little before squeezing harder, hard enough to make breathing hard for you but you fucking love it, clamping down tight on his cock and making no attempt to free yourself. Yoongi's cock throbs and as much as he wants to keep going, he knows he can't and removes the pressure to allow you to suck in some ragged breaths.

He takes the chance to readjust his position so that he can once again mouth at your skin and work on another mark, slowing his hips enough that he doesn't jostle your body as much. But that makes you whine in complaint. If you can whine, you have enough breath is Yoongi's thought and then he's constricting your airflow again and angling his hips to try and find that spot inside you again. When he finds it, you choke so he releases his pressure and focuses on once again battering that spot with short quick thrusts that make you moan endlessly through heaving for breath.

With his hand resting on your throat, your walls dripping and tight as hell around his cock and his mouth suctioned to the crook of your neck, Yoongi is so fucking close to an orgasm. You're so fucking tight around him, tight like pre-orgasm tight but he has no idea if you can orgasm without clitoral stimulation. He's vaguely concerned that he will cum while you suffer without your clit being touched but he himself physically can't and you're too far gone to seem to register that it's something you can actually do.

Too close and desperate to stop, Yoongi decides he can make you cum once he has himself and once again tightens his hold on your throat. To his surprise, your back immediately curves and your pussy spasms around him as wetness suddenly increases and he's hit with the possible fact that you just squirted with your orgasm.

Yoongi's orgasm hits him like a truck. He doesn't mean to bite down harder and doesn't even register the metallic taste on his tongue until the post-orgasm fuzz leaves his brain. He gasps in shocked horror and leans back, glad that he had moved his hand from your throat and not also choked you out in a non-sexy way in his mindlessness. The bite mark is pretty vicious looking; bruised deeply from his sucking and ringed by tooth-shaped indents, all of which are bleeding a little. Luckily, none are particularly deep but still, he's horrified, partly by what he's done and partly at the fact the sight sends arousal flitting teasingly through his body.

"Yoonie?" Your soft voice snaps him back to reality to find you blinking concernedly at him over your shoulder. "It's okay," You assure, reaching your left hand back to lay on his thigh and rub soothingly. "Really, don't look so scared, I'm not mad,"

"I fucking bit you!" He squeaks. "You're bleeding!"

"Yes, I see," You muse, gaze dropping to his lips pointedly. He quickly rubs his hand over his mouth roughly to remove the blood. "I'm not new to bleeding during sex."

He opens his mouth to respond, once again planning to berate himself but then he registers your words and blinks dumbly at you. "What?"

"I have experimented a lot, oppa, not always with the best people to try potentially dangerous things with."

He sighs your name out worriedly. "Please don't tell me you've let someone hold a knife to your skin during sex. I know you joked about it before but I seriously thought it was just a joke."

"I haven't," You assure before grinning a little awkwardly. "Yet,"

"I'm not letting you do knifeplay with some asshole, don't be ridiculous."

"You're not an asshole."

He blinks at you a few times. "Me?" You hum in confirmation. "You want me to put a knife to your skin?"

"I want to try it and you're the only person I trust like that," You shrug and turn your head back away both because the angle is hurting your neck and because you suddenly feel honestly kind of like a freak for even suggesting it. Knife play is no joke and something most people don't even know exists and even fewer actually think is a good idea. "I'll forget about it, you seem scared enough just biting me hard enough to draw blood, it was stupid to suggest."

"Wait wait wait," He huffs and shuffles backwards to create the space to turn you onto your back so that you could look at one another. "I don't want you to feel bad, that's not a look I see on you, stop it,"

"It was stupid to suggest though." You frown. "I'm sorry-"

"No, stop, it-" He takes a breath and then drops down onto his back beside you and only then realises how much his right shoulder hurts. He reaches up to rub it only for you to roll over and bat his hand away so that you can massage it yourself.

Yoongi watches your concentration for a few minutes with a fond smile before he reaches out to tilt your face to him and leans up to gently kiss you. You hum, surprised but very pleased and kiss him back, leaning forward so that he can lower back onto the pillow and not hurt his neck.

When you pull apart, he keeps his hand on your cheek and strokes his thumb over your skin softly. "I was scared that I hurt you, I didn't mean to and it scared me how easily I could accidentally do serious damage if I'm not careful." You make a noise of understanding. "But I was also scared that I liked it," Your eyebrows lift in genuine surprise. "I saw what I had done and I fucking- I liked it, like it turned me on a little."

"Really?" He nods. Despite the conversation, the way your eyes light up with joy and excitement makes him chuckle fondly. "So would you consider knife play?"

"I…I think I can consider it, yeah," He confirms, earning a bright smile followed by a very thorough kiss.

You can't say for sure what your future relationship with Yoongi holds, but you're real fucking excited to find out.

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