Tumgik
#and in one of her notes she went as far as to say that she talked to someone with 'diagnosed executive dysfunction'
wild-jackalope · 2 days
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Don’t speak! I know just what you’re saying, so please stop explaining, don’t tell me ‘cause it hurts!
pairing :: Best friend!Yuji x reader, older brother!Choso x reader (secondary)
warning :: modern au, pining, one-sided love, angst, love triangle, friends to lovers, smut, some dubcon (reader is intoxicated), fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v sex, low-key toxic at times hehe.
note :: everyone thank Gwen Stefani’s song for inspiring this fic 🙏 strap in cos this is long and angsty.
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“And who’re you showing off those legs to?” Maki asked, utter judgement filling her gaze as she swept over the outfit you’d chosen.
“You don’t like?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed of the miniskirt you’d decided to try on.
“You look fine, Maki is just judgmental.” Nobara waved her off, offering a supportive thumbs up to you.
“You still didn’t answer me.” Maki continued.
“No one, this is for me.” You huffed, sure of your answer. Despite it not being the entire the truth.
“Choso, Itadori’s older brother.”
“Nobara!” You gaped.
“Seriously?” Maki’s face scrunched, eyeing you with double the previous amount of judgement. “Hasn’t he known you since you were little?”
“Well, yes —but I’m not little anymore. I’m grown.” You gazed at yourself in the change room mirror. “I want him to see that.” From the reflection, you could see Maki give Nobara a sidelong look, one that the short haired girl avoided.
Had you said something foolish? Blood rushed to your cheeks and you slipped back into the change room, closing the curtain in a quick swish. You unzipped the skirt, letting it fall to your feet and pile at the floor.
You were grown. You could see it in your body, in the plumpness around your thighs and in the breasts that were cupped by a bra. You weren’t the little girl clinging to Choso’s leg crying because of a scraped knee anymore. You were older now, you had matured in so many ways and you wanted him to see that. You placed on your clothes and scooped up the miniskirt.
If asked, Nobara would describe your feelings for Choso as a little crush, some fleeting fancy that had come with knowing him for so long. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but fleeting was far from correct. Each time his calm, tired eyes softened at the sight of you, your stomach flittered with butterflies. Whenever he greeted you with a tight hug, you went as soft as a melting marshmallow in his embrace and when he complimented you, telling you he was so proud of you everything crumbled, every judgment you had of yourself dissipated into utter nothingness. The feelings you had for him were seeded since you were a toddler and had since grown into a loyal love.
So, you paid for the miniskirt, uncaring of the price.
The next stop in your shopping trip was the food court, the three of you girls needing a rest and refill after depleting your collective energies shopping and discussing whatever relevant drama Nobara spilled.
“Do you need a ride home?” Nobara asked, taking a break from sipping up her boba.
“Choso’s picking me up.” You murmured, a subtle excitement tugging up the corner of your lips.
“Why?” Her brow lifted slyly and she smiled at you.
“My family is away for a little bit, so I’m staying at the Itadori’s for a week until they get back.” It wasn’t uncommon, you’d often been tossed to your next door neighbours like an orphan during childhood. However now, it was a choice from you. You didn’t need to stay at their’s. You were an adult, you could look after yourself. “Yuji wanted me to stay over.” You added. The reason why you said yes being able to spend a whole week with Choso conveniently kept from your mouth.
“What I don’t understand is why you aren’t fawning over him.” Maki stated, stabbing her glossy chicken with her fork, then biting it.
Nobara’s eyes slid over to Maki, wide at her statement. She didn’t speak though, silently sipping at her boba tea.
“Yuji?” You blinked.
“He’s pretty much the same as Choso, isn’t he?” Maki continued, chewing her meal.
You laughed. “Yuji isn’t anything like Cho, they’re completely different.” You shook your head. “Besides, I’ve grown up with Yuji, he’s like my brother.”
Nobara seemed to cringe at the notion, but still she remained silent. Maki too, continued to eat without making another comment towards the two brothers.
It wasn’t until they said their goodbyes to you, that Yuji was brought up again.
You’d left your hug with Nobara, then reached for Maki. As usual, she wrapped her arms around you with her unusual strength that could’ve left you bruised if the embrace wasn’t so brief.
“Say hello to Itadori for us.” She muttered. Now, if it weren’t for the simple action of Nobara elbowing Maki’s side, you would have responded with a chipper ‘sure!’ But as the caramel haired girl eyed Maki with a stiff annoyance, swiftly aiming for her side you suddenly felt left out, like the third wheel of some information they both knew and had not informed you of. Maki simply rolled her eyes at Nobara, uncaring.
“Uhm, okay, sure.” Your smile weakened and you waved at the two.
Behind you, Choso parked the Itadori family car in the pickup section. A car you could recognise anywhere, especially considering it had been fairly scratched up after Yuji’s father had lended it to his brother, Sukuna, who returned the car after three days of God knows what.
You slipped inside, letting the odd interaction with your friends leave you as you left them. You were far too excited to see Choso to let it linger anyway.
As you turned to see the dark haired man, he was already leaning over to bring you into a hug. His masculine scent filled your lungs like cigarette smoke and twice as addictive as nicotine, you wanted more the second he pulled away.
However, as Choso’s let go of you, he reached for your seatbelt, pulling it over you and for a millisecond, his brown eyes lifted from where the seatbelt strapped your body to your own eyes. His face so close, you could practically taste his lips. The gesture utterly melted your insides to hot lava.
“How was shopping?” He asked, returning to the wheel and starting the car.
“So good.” You sighed, still high off his close proximity. Conveniently, the branded shopping bag hiding your new miniskirt sat on your lap. “I got some nice things for myself.” You added.
“Do you need any money?” He asked, eyes floating to you for a moment, before returning to the road. A delightful shiver slipped up your spine at his glance, and you couldn’t help the grin that reached you.
“No, Cho, you know I’ve got my own money to pay for things.” You were grown, after all.
He shrugged, cracking a kind smile. “Alright, I get it. Don’t be afraid to ask, though.”
God, he was so perfect. You wanted nothing more than for him stop the car so you could smother him with hugs and kisses. “You spoil me too much, Cho. What if I asked you for a hundred?”
He shrugged, the simple movement very telling that he would give it to you, without a second thought. “You know I can’t say no to you.”
So so perfect. Maybe if he did stop the car so you could smother him, you’d ride him too, just to make him feel as spoiled as you did. You let the dirty thought linger, probably longer than you should’ve.
“We’re excited to have you over for the week, Yuji actually cleaned his room for you.” He huffed, amused, at the thought.
“Did he?” Why couldn’t you share a bed with him? You were so tired of waking up in the middle of the night halfway off the bed with Yuji’s sprawled limbs all over you— even worse, waking up to Yuji hugging you (borderline snuffing you) with all his weight.
“Mhm, he’s always so excited to see you.” A knowing smile presented itself on Choso’s lips, and you suddenly felt left out of some knowledge again. It left a bad taste in your mouth for the rest of the car ride.
Once home, Choso opened the front door for you and you were met with an unusually empty, quiet home.
“Yuji’s probably in his room, you should say hi to him.” Choso instructed, moving to the nearby kitchen and dropping the car keys on the table.
As familiarly as your own home, you strolled through the corridor. “Yuuuji.” You sung, pushing into his room.
As the door creaked open, you were met with Yuji midway through putting his shirt on. He paused just before it looped over his head, giving you a view of his toned back. Notably, his pants were spotted with a superhero logo and the shirt he had finally let fall over his body was large and baggy.
“Are you seriously getting into your pyjamas already?” You asked, full of judgement.
“It’s five pm!” Yuji retorted. “Also knock, you could’ve seen my dick.”
“Gross, and I could say the same for you.” There had been countless times Yuji had walked in on you changing, he could likely piece together what your naked body looked like with all the occasions he’s seen various clothes off you. The idea barely bothered you. You trusted Yuji after all. Trusted that when he saw you naked, he just saw you, not your body.
Technically, it wasn’t anything he’s not seen before. During the early days of your childhood the two of you would run around butt naked causing all sorts of havoc, chasing one another with water guns during hot summer afternoons or avoiding bath time together annoyingly late. Puberty might’ve changed your body, but it hadn’t changed your thoughts towards Yuji.
However, you wouldn’t be quick to take your clothes off in front of him now. “I’ll get changed too.” You uttered, opening his bedroom door wider.
He groaned, leaving with a heavy walk. “This is my bedroom, y’know.”
“Not this week.” You grinned, shutting the door before he could come up with a snarky retort.
To say Yuji was just a brother to you, or your friend wouldn’t quite do him justice. Best friend didn’t really fit him either. He was all of it, altogether. The guy who’d answer your one AM phone calls when you couldn’t sleep, the guy who knew exactly how to massage the stress out of your shoulders, the guy to hold you when you cried over spilt milk— he was your guy. Your man.
You weren’t completely ignorant to the idea of dating Yuji, so many people had told you you’d make the perfect couple over the years, it was only natural that you’d consider the possibility. The beautiful moments you shared with him over the years seemed to become muddied in your mind whenever you thought of him romantically. Your stomach would flip uncomfortably at the idea of kissing him. The times you held hands innocently darkened as you considered what if we did that as boyfriend and girlfriend? So you placed the thoughts inside a jar, sealed it shut and threw it into the basement of your brain.
After pulling your pyjamas out from your stay over backpack and put them on, you called to Yuji from inside his room. “You can come back in.”
He did so, entering back into his room and flopping onto his bed. You joined him on his bed, letting yourself freely fall on top of him.
“What’s for dinner?” You asked.
He had no reaction, just the small breath that escaped him at the comfortable weight of you. “Choso ordered some pizza.”
“Movie tonight?” You continued, too lazy to formulate a proper question. Yuji would know what you meant, anyway, he always did.
“Are you finally gonna watch Human Earth Worm three with me?” He asked, head lifting to watch your face contort in disgust.
“Fuck that.” He laughed, shifting you on his stomach at his chuckle.
“Please? It’s seriously good, I’m telling you.” He whined, clear grin still on his face.
“I don’t care man, can’t we watch something nice?” You considered Choso, he’d be there right next to you on the couch, watching. “Something romantic?”
“That’s the thing! It is a romance, if you look closely it’s about the love between the monster and the protagonist.”
On second thought, maybe a horror would give you the chance to cuddle up next to Choso (as corny as it was). “Fine, we can watch it. Just stop yapping about it like such a fanboy.” You smacked a hand over his mouth, muffling the laugh that left him.
Just as quickly as you shut him up, you pulled your hand back as his slimy warm tongue swished against your palm.
“Gross Yuji!” You wiped the saliva on his shirt, hitting his shoulder. You raise your hand again in preparation to give Yuji’s chest another clean whack! However your plans are swiftly thwarted when Yuji grabbed your wrist, rolling you over with his body weight until he was above you.
You yelped, laughing as he smothered your body into the now messy sheets. He had you pinned face forward against the bed, legs kept down by his knees and your arms held back by the strength you’d grown to hate due to it giving Yuji a complete monopoly over your body in wrestling. You squirmed roughly, tugging at his grip. The attempt at freedom worsened your situation, as Yuji just laid flat on your back.
“Get off!” You laughed, choking on the oxygen that Yuji’s weight wheezed from your lungs. Harder now, you squirmed; flailing your arms, kicking your legs, rocking your hips.
“Don’t move like that—” Not a joke, you could hear it in his voice. It was a quick plea, that was followed by a harsh suck in of air through his teeth.
And for a split second, that jar you’d thrown into the dark corners of your mind loosened and you wondered what would it be like to have sex with your best friend? He’d be the type of guy who’d like to take you from behind, surely. Before the lid could completely pop off, Choso’s voice echoed from down the hall, an announcement that the pizza had arrived.
In a flash, the pink haired boy gave you one last shove into the bed, pushing himself off in a quick dash to the front door. You scoffed loudly, immediately attempting to catch up to him in a scrambled hurry, abruptly sliding into a wall at your departing balance.
Pizza and a movie was a usual treat in the Itadori home whenever you came to visit, it was probably why Yuji was so keen on having you over when he found out your parents wouldn’t be home (that, and he really hated the idea of leaving you alone in an empty home for an entire week).
With the hot food served, the three of you planted yourselves on the couch, Yuji eagerly recapping the last two movies in the Earthworm franchise before pressing play on the third instalment.
Having only worked up enough courage by the time the movie had reached its halfway mark to enact you nefarious plan to cuddle with Choso, you’d shuffled on the couch, coming close enough to have your thighs connecting.
Delicately, as if you touched him without the grace of a fairy he might not notice you and pull away, you laid your head on Choso’s shoulder. You must’ve succeeded in your sneaky efforts, because Choso didn’t blink, nor tense, instead he lifted an arm and casually wrapped it around you.
Beside you, sour eyes narrowed at the sight.
He knew, oh how he knew. Yuji was slapped in the face with your pining over his brother since he was a toddler. Even at such a young age, he could tell there was something in your eyes— a glimmer of pure affection— when you looked at Choso that simply wasn’t there when you looked at him. He initially hoped thought you would grow out of the crush, but he just watched it grow. He watched you grow into a gorgeous person, watched himself fall further and further in love with you and watched you watch Choso. Not him.
The too-familiar feeling of covetousness bubbled in Yuji’s stomach, bringing forward the storm that was his feelings for you and tormenting him. I’m back Yuji! Gleefully yelled his jealousy. I’m back and oh, I dunno, this time I might just make you tear your brother apart! Why not? Gotta get that girl sometime, you know, can’t keep fucking your hand thinking of her forever!
He could practically hear your heart dance for his brother even over the screaming gore on screen.
He was only tortured by the sight for another half an hour, completely minuscule compared to the years worth of moments like these. Like a blessing, Choso finally lifted himself from the couch to clean up everyone’s plates.
“What’d you do today?” Yuji asked, quick to distract you from the disappointment of Choso leaving.
“I went shopping with Nobara and Maki, they say hi by the way.” You utter, eyes following Choso to the kitchen.
“Did you give her some money?” Yuji asked, raising his voice to reach the man in the kitchen.
“Guys please, I don’t need money I’ve got my own.” You assured. Were they really so generous, or did they just think you were dirt poor?
“That’s what she said to me when I tried.” Choso shrugged, offering a smile to you. “It made me feel like a proud older brother.”
A thick pause filled the room before you truely processed what Choso had said. “For me?” You questioned, jaw falling somewhat slack.
“Mhm, like my little sister is finally able to take care of herself.” He added, rubbing pure salt into your icy wound.
“Oh.” Was all that managed to fall from your lips.
Yuji eyed you carefully, mouth suddenly sewn shut. His stomach filled with a heat that was not entirely unpleasant.
At first, a queazy glow flushed your cheeks, then the feeling of your ka-thunking! heart falling into your ass hit next. Beside you, Yuji watching your transformation into a heartbroken thing right before his carefully observant eyes.
Had you really been so delusional? That wasn’t it. That didn’t fit right. After everything, all the moments shared. After cuddling with him while watching a horror movie, he couldn’t have just seen you as a pathetic little sibling. Had you truely hyped yourself up to be this mature, romanticised woman and Choso only saw you as the little girl that clung to his knee, crying?
Yuji could practically see the thoughts flash over your eyes as you sat in a tranced— stunned silence. His lips parted to save you from being buried too deep within yourself but you beat him to it.
“I’m going to go for a walk.” You uttered, zombielike.
You’d left the house before either boys could offer to go with you, or utter a quick concern as to why you were craving a walk so late in the evening.
Nostalgia. It spilled like water, filling each crevice of your mind. You couldn’t help it, you had already begun reliving each memory with Choso, overthinking, overanalysing.
'Cho look! I drew something' you'd waddle over to him, holding a crinkled piece of paper scribbled with bright neons.
'Oh wow, is this for me?' He asked, a praising hand resting on your head and sliding down your hair.
'Yup!' You beamed. He'd take the paper you offered and held it with such kind care, never folding it and keeping it near his chest. Even now, you could recall the way he always held your childish offerings with such care.
Despite growing up beside Choso, you weren't his little sister. You weren't even apart of his family. Not really.
'Fight me Yuji!' You'd rile up the peach haired boy like he was a dog too much. Pinching and poking him until he'd finally pounce on you, play fighting until someone burst into tears (you, you were always the first to tap out with teary eyes). 'Ow Yuji! That hurt!'
And he'd be there, a hand resting on your head and swiping the frizzed hair from your puffy, wet face. 'I know it hurts, are you okay?'
Christ. He was ten years older than you, there was no way you were even on his radar! It didn't matter your body had bloomed, you really were still the little girl clinging to his knee, crying. Weren't you? You were, you were finally sure, now.
As you inhaled the fresh night, a subtle scent of rain in the air, you consider what to do with the loving feeling that had seeded its roots into you over two decades. You couldn't find an answer, until the love appeared behind you.
A large coat weighed over your shoulders, planted by Choso who now walked beside you. "You'll get a cold being out here in your pyjamas."
His little hints of affection had become recontextualized in your mind, now instead of thinking he had some buried fancy for you, you could see yourself in his eyes, someone young and needing care. Rocks piled in your stomach and weakly, you thanked him. Even the soft gaze he held you in differed. It was some kind of nostalgia that creased his eyes kindly, a memory of you at a younger age playing behind his eyelids, maybe.
The rocks now piled up to your heart, burying it between pointy— jagged stones. Each silent step the two of you took thickened the awkward sorrow looming over you, until finally, Choso spoke.
"Yuji's been so excited to have you over, you know, he really likes you." He couldn't have picked a worse time to take up the role of matchmaker for the two of you. The implication hadn't seemed to reach you.
“I like you.” You finally freed the words, the piling stones now reaching your throat. It took a confused beat until Choso cleared his throat with a light chuckle and responded.
“I like you, too.” His hand came to rest atop your head, giving you a kind stroke, like he always did, before returning it to his pocket.
But you don’t. The words threatened to spill from your quivering lip. Not like I do.
"Let's head inside." Your short walk had taken you around a loop, now you stood outside the house but you weren't ready to be embraced by the homely warmth yet, you needed to think more.
"I'll be there in a sec." You kindly evaded his attempt to bring you back inside. His warm expression seemed to falter with confusion, but ultimately, he let you go, walking inside without you.
You exhaled, taking a wobbly seat above the road gutter. Little sister. The words haunted you. I like you, but no, I'm not attracted to you, I could never be! You're my little sis after all! Another exasperated sigh left you. Even your faulty confession couldn't lift the weight compressing your chest. You couldn't wait to rip off your bra, although you doubted it would elevate the internal ache.
The rejection wouldn't have been so crushing if you weren't so into him, which anyone could've assumed, but really, you were into him. Your type in men was basically shaped around Choso, having pined for him from such a young age.
Despite attempting to date during high school and the years following, you just couldn't. No man could ever really pull you from your crush, so you were never in relationships long.
But what now? You had the confirmation you'd never be with him, should you date again? Move on with a quick rebound? Go to the club and try hooking up? God you wish you could cry and just hurry up with the grieving process but you were too numb to be misty.
Taking you from the hurricane of your thoughts, steps crunched behind you, but still, you weren't done thinking just yet.
"It's okay, Cho, I'll come back inside in a moment I just—" But it was Yuji standing in the silhouette you thought belonged to Choso. "Oh, sorry." You muttered.
He joined you, sitting atop the gutter. “What happened?” He asked.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You sighed, face falling into the palms of your hand.
“I’m glad.” You could hardly see ‘glad’ on his face, it was stone, unwavering.
“What?” What exactly was he glad of?
"You finally know how he feels about you."
"Yuji—" Utter mortification. If you'd considered the idea of Yuji knowing about your little crush for a moment longer, you'd likely think huh, I guess he would've known this whole time. He's my best friend after all. But you didn’t have time to think about it, flushing hot blood to your cheeks.
“—Now you can get over this stupid obsession with him.”
Now, finally, the tears could start to form. Yuji's cruelty broke the dam that was your numbness. You stood, him tensing over your quick movement. “Stupid ob—? ugh! You—” A reasonable sentence caught in your throat and you were only able to wave an angry finger at him. Did he really see your feelings that way? Thought that Choso liking you back was such an absurdity? That it was an obsession? You suddenly wondered, if Choso came face to face with your love for him, would he think it was stupid, too?
Yuji swallowed, silently sticking by his rude statement.
“I wouldn’t love him—someone if I didn’t think I could be loved back.” Your voice crumbled. The slight crack tugged painfully at Yuji’s heart and despite the regret that washed over his mind like a cold tsunami, he wasn’t able to utter an apology.
Before the tears burning your eyes could spill, you turned on your heel and began walking inside his home. “Wait—”
“Just let me be, Yuji.”
He’d only left you alone for about an hour.
You'd decided to hide away in his room, after all.
Creaking his door open, Yuji's head peaked through the crack. His eyes fell on you cradling a pillow on his bed, your back to him. Guilt clawed at his gut to know he was the reason you were so upset (truthfully he wasn't, but he sure as hell pushed you over the edge).
Maybe, maybe if he finally told you how he felt about you, you'd understand why he acted so cruelly. What Yuji had conveniently forgotten to consider was the sheer amount of emotions that had currently resided inside you. Another confession? Well, you might just die of a heart attack!
“We should talk—”
“I don’t want to talk, ass.” You picked up the pillow slightly wet with tears and tossed it at him. You weren’t furious with him at least, that was a good sign.
“Look, the thing is, I—”
“No! Get out Yuji—”
“But! Just wait, I have something I need to say.”
"Don't speak!" you held your hands over your ears, kicking another stray pillow at him.
He held his hands up, surrendering himself and his voice to your demands but quickly, he peeped. "Can I at least sleep?"
"Fine." You shuffled across the bed, burying yourself into your usual side and flicking the covers over your head.
With the careful ease of a predator stalking its prey through the long grass, you felt Yuji's hands and knees crater into the bed as he slowly approached his rightful spot beside you. The warmth you developed under the sheet blew away as he lifted them, fitting under the covers with you.
He shifted, finding a comfortable spot on his back staring up at the ceiling. Five minutes went by and the skin on his palms began to itch, the muscles on the back of his neck tightened.
He shifted again, an attempt to reach real comfort. After five minutes of staring at a wall his mouth went dry and his toes curled in irritation.
Again, he shifted, this time, turning to face the back of your head. You let an annoyed puff free whilst his movement crinkled the sheets loudly, one he didn't seem to hear. Five minutes passed and he remained still, but his palms itched, his neck remained tight, his mouth was still dry and his feet were beginning to cramp.
You remained in a tense, motionless lay, eyes unknowingly shut tightly, begging sleep to take you far, far away from your body.
The covers softly crinkled again, but Yuji hadn't moved. You realised the sound was his arm moving as he pressed a light hand to your back, a silent ask. Will we cuddle tonight, or are you still mad? The question soon turned into a bribe as his palm pressed into the stressed muscles in your back.
You allowed him to work his apology into your skin, thumb tracing the muscles beneath your shoulder blades back and forth, creating a relieving rhythmic pattern. I'm sorry.
He continued grinding his palms against the soft tendons of your back. I'm sorry I was such a dick.
Sliding lower, he pressed into the thin muscles of your lower back. It's because I'm in love with you.
But when his hand began to lose motivation and slip from you at your unforgiveness, you sighed, reaching to pull his hand over you. You forgave him, kinda. He grasped your tummy, pulling you into his chest and his glowing warmth.
Friends cuddle all the time, okay? It's pretty normal. Thank you very much.
You could feel his breath pat the side of your neck and his hand occasionally twitch whilst holding you. It was normal, Yuji's always had a slight twitch in his fingers whenever you felt him hold you.
“If you had a boyfriend, would we still do this?” His low words rumbled from his chest into your tender back.
"I thought you agreed to no talking." You responded.
"Sorry." A deafening silence followed his swift apology that basically begged you to answer his question.
"If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't need this."
Again, his hand twitched.
"And if you had a girlfriend, you wouldn't need it either." It was true, and fair. Friends who cuddle only do it because they need a substitute partner, right? "G'night, Yuji."
"Night."
You weren't sure you had fallen completely asleep by the time you awoke, because when you checked your phone, you were face with the time being eleven PM. Fuck, you'd really had an early night. No wonder you hadn't slept long. Your throat ached to be soothed with cold water, prompting you to get up and poor yourself a glass.
You left the warmth of Yuji's arms, immediately regretting your decision to quench your midnight thirst. Lazily, you searched the floor for Yuji's red hoodie and placed it on.
The kitchen light illuminated your pathway to the tap and you wondered if Choso had accidentally left it on before going to bed, but you were greeted with him when you entered the kitchen.
"Oh, hey." Your voice came out in a groggy crack.
"Couldn't sleep?" He asked.
"Just thirsty."
Choso eyed you, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. You looked so cute drowning in his brother’s jumper, it warmed his heart and cheeks. “Good to see you and Yuji finally got together.”
The excitement in his words stabbed at your chest and you could feel yourself plummet into sadness again.
“I was starting to worry that you two had a fight.”
“You’re wrong.” You attempted to state the words with a strong intent, however a quiver ripped the will from you. “I don't like him, Choso.” Your burning eyes threatened your already raw cheeks. “It’s you.” You hiccuped. “Please don't think I love someone else.”
In a swift rush, Choso had reached you, bending to catch your eyes. His hands hugged your arms gently. “I’m sorry.” He murmured, softly mumbling your name. "I'm so sorry I didn't know—"
He wiped away the salty drops that pooled in the corner of your eyes, his upturned expression guiltily taking in your devastated shake.
“It’s you, I love you.” You uttered again, chanting the statement that hung around your heart.
He pulled you into his chest, cradling your head in a solid embrace that lasted until your shaky breaths subsided. You pulled away from him, noticeable tear stains watering his clothes.
He took a deep, regretful inhale and you knew the words he was going to utter. “I've always thought of you as—"
“I know. It’s so obvious.” You stated in a huff, almost laughing at yourself for having thought otherwise.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured.
“Choso,” you finally looked into his eyes, finding a sorrow lacing his dark browns, but still, his gaze was so soft, affectionately taking you in. It made your heart clench. “Does me telling you I love you, make you happy? Even a little bit?”
A beat rung out as he considered your question. “It does. Thank you.”
“Choso, will you kiss me, please?” His brows furrowed further and his lips parted to utter a polite no, but you begged again. “Please. Just so I know what it feels like.”
And Lord knows he couldn’t say no to you.
Both his large hands came to cup around your cheeks, his thumbs lightly pressing into the sides of your mouth. He dipped his head down as he angled your jaw. His lips were just as soft as you imagined they'd be and the way he kissed you with such sweet sensitivity was heavenly. Your heart stung with the melancholy of it all.
He broke away, lidded eyes solemnly staring at your tear bleached cheeks. His expression filled with utter guilt, completely ashamed he was the one making you feel this way. He pressed another, deeper kiss to your lips. As if begging that his lips would heal you, despite knowing deep down they’d likely make you yearn for him more.
The pity became too much to bear, so you let yourself fall away from his kiss. A sweet smack sounding at your lips separating.
His hands lingered until you began to speak. "Thank you, Choso, I..." You had nothing else to say.
"You should head back to bed, I'll... see you tomorrow."
He left you with those weak words filled with regret. You could practically feel the sickly feeling in his stomach as he walked to his room, metaphorical tail between his legs and head hanging low in shame.
What would did it feel like to kiss you? His little sister? Expect you weren't his little sister, you weren't apart of his family and most importantly; You were grown. You could go and do whatever the hell you wanted. So you did. To the only place that would accept a broken hearted girl with a fierce desire to get drunk. You were going put that damn miniskirt to use.
Yuji somewhat realised you were absent from his bed when he heard the front door of his house shut. You went to the bathroom, probably. Although, the longer he waited, the more he thought about it and laid there without your weight, the less asleep he really was.
When an hour passed and you still weren't back in his arms, he finally sat up and checked the time. Midnight. He first wandered the house in search of you, checking the bathroom, kitchen, lounge. You weren't there.
His heart hadn't dropped as much as you would expect it had, it merely ached because in truth, Yuji had a feeling he knew where you had gone. Checking your phone's location only confirmed his theory.
However that guilty ache developed into an aggravated disappointment during the drive to you.
His expression was scrunched with frustration by the time he reached the club, having spent $15 dollars just to enter and find you. He pushed past wobbly, half naked bodies, searching for your hair, your skin, hell he even tried to smell you over the stench of artificial smoke and spilled fireballs.
He found you tucked away in a corner, surrounded by smoothly dancing drunks, you fit perfectly into the moving crowd, having the alcohol serging your veins lull you into a swooning dance. Despite easily falling into the sea of people, to Yuji you were outstanding.
The peach haired boy became keenly aware of you in your perfectly blissful state; the flickering neons shining against your glistening skin, the way your lashes fluttered at the brightness and how your lips remained parted, puffing hot air and occasionally sipping at the almost empty glass in your hand. Wide eyed, Yuji soaked the image into the deepest part of his mind, remaining unblinking until his eyes began to burn with smoke.
Yuji had gone completely stiff against the grinding bodies and despite your inebriated condition, you had turned towards the intense aura piercing you. As though the moment passed in slow motion, the two of your eyes locked past the haze and lights. You had come to a halt, hand going weak around the glass of alcohol.
Unaware of their space, another body bumped into you, sending you stumbling forward and into another group of people who rejected to support you. You’d gone dizzy now, reaching the peak of blackout and it sent waves of disorientation over your eyes.
Now by your side, Yuji had taken you into him, holding you with a firm almost too-tight grip. His fingers cratered into the skimpy outfit you threw together before leaving, grabbing at your plush waist. You sighed against his steady, hard person. Your hand was empty now, no longer clutching your drink but being rested over his shoulder.
“Let’s go, cmon.” And despite the room thudding with music you heard his words with a calm clarity.
You came to outside the club, cool air kissing your bare legs and face. Your arms, however, were protected by a large red hoodie. You closed your eyes at the sudden vertigo, unable to remember how exactly you’d left the dance floor.
“Did you take something in there?” Yuji asked, you turned to see him sitting beside you, a wide eyed serious stare drowning his beautiful features.
You were mad at him, you quickly remembered. “No.” You brooded, leaning away from him and averting your eyes.
He sighed, relieved to see some emotion seep through your glossy eyed, dazed drunkenness. “Why are you here? And by yourself, Jesus, do you know how stupid—”
“Why are you here.” You returned, slurred venom drooling your tone.
“To make sure you’re safe, and bring you home.” He squeezed your shoulders and you realised he'd had his arms around you the entire time.
Hotness pooled around your eyelids and you slowly blinked away the wetness. “I wan’ to keep dancing.” You tried to shoulder his arms off you, failing miserably when he held you tighter.
“Just tell me what’s wrong.” He pleaded, searching for your eyes.
“I don’ wanna talk about it.” You murmured, the searing tears now falling from your eyes and to the concrete floor you stared at.
Yuji exhaled quickly, the sight of your glistening tears sucking the air from his lungs. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? It was rude.”
“’s not that, Yuji.” You gave into his hold, letting him pull you into his warmth and smell. “He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t even see me that way. I was so stupid.”
His heart ached to see your wet, bruised eyes, the raccoon ringlets of mascara, the smear of lipstick.
“Am I ugly? Why doesn’t he like me?” The way you looked at him, your eyes wounded, pleading, inarticulate, it made his heart lurch.
He hugged you, so tightly that the bones in your back groaned.
"Stop it Yuji," You sobbed, weak hand swatting his back. He continued to hold you. "You're makin' me feel worse." You hiccuped violently, chest surging and pulling.
"Don't think about him, it's not worth it, he's not worth it. He's— Fuck." He was trying to find a tone, an adult rhythm of speech, and failing. Your shivering and sobbing had regressed him.
“Just—Jus' take me home, Yu.”
And he did, but not to his home, to yours. Empty, with nobody but the two of you.
You remember slipping, but not making any contact with the hard floor. Yuji had held you close, his arm basically attached to you, being the pillar of your nonexistent balance.
You were now in the bathroom, bright lights yelling at your hazy eyes.
“You should shower, sober up.” Yuji hoisted you up by your hips and placed you on the bathroom sink, giving his side a much needed break from supporting you.
“No.” You leaned back, lazy eyes gazing up at the ceiling.
“C’mon, please stop being like this.”
“Help me then.” You threw him a bone, letting into his ask of you.
He exhaled, relieved. “Okay, fine.” Delicately his fingers pinched your skin tight shirt, hesitating to lift. You raised your arms lazily, giving him the consent he was looking for. The shirt slowly rose over your hips, tummy then chest. Yuji let it fall to the corner of the bathroom. His eyes avoided your boobs, like he would be cursed if he copped a look. Instead he intensely glared at your face.
“S’okay, you can look.” You murmured. Yuji shook his head in disagreement, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing at your cupped tits. You huffed a laugh at his weak will. Truthfully you enjoyed the attention. You hated that you enjoyed it.
“Sorry.” He took a step back and breathed. “Look, for what it’s worth, I think you looked pretty. The skirt is cute.” You hadn’t known you craved that compliment until it filled your aching heart with flushing blood.
“Jus’ take it off.” You slurred. He did so slowly, shaken hands unbuttoning then unzipping the skirt, slipping the short garment off with ease. This time, he didn’t even hide his gaze as he stared at your underwear. He swallowed, jaw tensing.
“Can you take the rest off?” He asked, a little desperately.
“No.” You droned.
“Then I guess you’re showering in your underwear.” He finished, freeing himself from responsibility. You groaned.
He gazed at your lidded eyes intensely, trying to gauge your soberness, were you just playing with him? Were you really that drunk? You hated the silence, you wanted more from him.
“So do you like me or what?” You prodded his heart. You knew the answer. You supposed you always knew. You just never wanted to hear it until now.
“Yes. I do.” He swallowed thickly. It made him nervous when he could feel his heart beating in his ears, and wrists, as well as in his chest.
“Don’t believe you.” You muttered, swatting his arm pathetically. It was a dangerous game you were playing, insinuating you couldn’t dare to imagine someone— anyone— him— having feelings for you.
"Believe it." He warned, playfulness evading his intention.
"No." More, you wanted to tease more out of him like a comb knotting straight hair.
His hands grasped at your nude sides and he kissed you. Harsh and desperate, he was proving a point. Through your fluttering eyes you could see his were screwed shut in angered focus. He was making out with your mouth, licking up the remnants of alcohol on your tongue and teeth. Compared to his brother, Yuji was sure and feverent. He wanted you, so desperately.
He seemed like the one with the stupid obsession now.
"Shower."
You allowed his order, adding your own. “Stay. I might fall.”
Stepping into the hot water substantially dinted your drunkenness, bringing a hot clarity to your mind. The running water falling down your skull was a constant tapping reminder that this was happening, or it was going to happen.
You could see Yuji's form through the fogged glass, his back turned from the shower. You wondered briefly, was it out of respect for your naked body that he turned away from you, or maybe, was it for his own sanity?
The steamed water cleaned your face of ruined makeup and the sticky club residue. Your ears still held a slight ring, amplified by the silence surrounding the tapping of water.
When you stepped out Yuji was there to wrap you up in the towel with a turned head. Useless, really. You thought. It'll be gone soon.
In a slow walk, he accompanied you to your bedroom, a silent knowing thickening the air between you. Darkness ate up your view up him, but you could feel the tension permeate off of his body.
“Y’gonna fuck me, Yu?” You asked, staring up at him with dazed eyes.
“Yeah, I am.” His words were hugged by a breathlessness. A shortness of breath that hadn’t stemmed from his lungs, but from his heart.
You both needed it. You needed to be desired, to be wanted, to be loved and Yuji needed to finally take you, feel you, show you how much he loved you.
Again his hands found you, the first points of contact on your still wet body. Next, his lips, hunting your pulse until he reached your mouth. With his unseemly strength supporting you, he dipped you into the bed, his weight following you, pushing you further into the mattress.
You could feel is thick, strong hands on you, feeling, exploring, pulling with helpless desire but no real strength. Multitasking between your lips and feeling for the hem of the towel, unwrapping it from your body.
He stayed for a moment, bringing space between you, staring at you as if he'd never seen you before. Your breasts heaved rapidly. Your face, all flushed and blazed with lust.
"I'm gonna make you feel good." He said, struggling not to pant as he spoke. That would not sound good. That would sound weak, unsure.
Your heart was not breaking anymore. It seemed rather to broil in your chest, melt. You were afraid the heat from your heart might soon destroy your sanity in fire.
And he was so gentle, not tugging or pulling but caressing you with a consideration that was almost prissy. Fingers rolling down your damp tummy, hesitating just before your hip bone.
You spread your legs, inviting him to your aching middle. The offer knocked the air from his lungs and he knew only your taste could allow him to breathe again.
Like you were his salvation, Yuji kneeled at the end of your bed, his face pressed up against your longing, breathing in your scent. His hot exhales patted your sex, dragging you into a moment of utter desire and need.
His breath came closer, until the thick humidity closed and he pressed a wet kiss to your clit. The melodic sigh of ease lifting from your mouth tugged on Yuji's already stiff dick, making him suddenly aware of his own arousal. That was for later, for now, he was starving.
He pressed another moving kiss to your bundle of nerves, adding a smooth swipe of his tongue. Another symphony played from you and he drowned himself in your cunt, playing with you like an instrument. His wet, sucking pampering your leaking sex.
The intensity ripped a twitch from your hips but Yuji caught your thighs before you could jut away.
You leaked such a bitter sweetness, it was too perfect. Food would never taste the same now that he'd had you in his mouth. Live, squirming and moaning so beautifully. When your hand came up to rake though his messy hair, he fell deeper into your cunt.
His make-out with your sex had fallen into the perfect rhythm, sending clean jolts of pleasure throughout your body, you hadn't needed to concentrate or hold your breath to be forced up the hill of your orgasm, Yuji was walking you up with utter ease.
His tongue only occasionally dipped to your chasm to drink up the slick leaking from you, but as he dipped past a single ring of your insides, a selfish desire to feel more arose.
He shifted and you felt a warm pressure circle your chasm. Your cunt was already sucking in the two thick fingers he offered you. He slipped in further, sliding along your tickling nerves, massaging you closer and closer to a release.
The tips of his fingers curled into you, working in perfect time with his mouth until you tensed in preparation around him. Another slight suck and roll over your clit had you cumming on his fingers.
You cursed loudly, a lovingly weak moan of his name leaving you.
The way your walls fluttered around his fingers had his dick jutting painfully in his pants. Now he could finally fuck you.
His weight returned over you, coming back to his rightful place above your naked body. He shed two layers, his jumper and the shirt underneath it. Not because he was feeling hot or sweaty, but because he wanted you to see his tight body and throb. Force into you a sexual attraction and utterly crush your notions of friendship.
It might've been the way he made you cum on his tongue, or the way he took your wrist and made you slide a shaky hand over his abs and chest, maybe it was the way his eyes drooled obsession when he looked at you—perhaps it was a lusted blend of everything— but you could feel the sickening flutter of love butterflies develop in your stomach.
His hand next arrived at the rim of his pants, freeing his erection from the tight confines of his pants. You hardly shied from the sight.
Nothing you haven't seen before, right? Well, the way his blood fat length leaked beads of precum that belonged inside you from his flushed, burning tip was certainly a sight you'd never seen before. He let your eyes linger. It was all for you, all because of you.
He only spared a glance to line himself against your cunt, he cared more to see the way your face would twist to be filled by him.
"Yu— oh fffuck." You weren't sure what kind of rejection would've left your mouth before you felt Yuji enter you, but you were glad it never reached your lips.
Sliding into you was like sliding into some exquisite oil. The white that flashed over his eyes at the sheer— everything— of you blurred his vision for brief moment. He blinked it away quickly, needing to see the way you threw your head back in pleasure.
His size filled you perfectly, reaching each sensitive crevice inside your mushy tunnel, you only wanted more. Yuji sat inside you for a beat, needing a break from the feeling of you sliding around him. He wasn't sure if it was his or your heart he could feel thumping between his legs. The break was short-lived when you began moving your hips in pleading.
He moved with you, using you, but letting you use him as well. The only sounds were the wet sonances of your sex and breathing; his heavy and horse, yours quick and light.
You wondered, if Choso could see you being fucked soft by his brother, would he still say 'good to see you an Yuji got together'? as if Yuji could sense your thoughts by the way your cunt fluttered around him, his fingers dug craters into your side and he spoke.
“You— shit— you thinkin’ about him?” He asked in a thin carping voice, sneering into your neck.
Your lips stayed zipped, unable to lie nor tell the truth.
“He couldn’t— hng— fucken' love you like this.” To stress his statement, Yuji rolled his hip deep into you, pressing a bruising kiss to your cervix. Your hands smacked over his shoulders, clawing his back.
"I know— oh fuck! Yu." Despair in your words, but Yuji worked to fuck it out of you, suckling hickies to your neck.
"I told you I'd make you—hahh— feel good. You feel good, baby?" He wasn't sure where the pet name came from but the moment it rolled off his tongue he knew he'd never use your name again.
His words regressed you into a submissive, panting mess. "Mhm, hngh! yes, Yu." You didn't mean to sound so ravaged and pleased, but your tone made Yuji's eager dick expand more inside you, becoming girthier with blood.
His rhythm finally dissolved into an excited bucking and from it Yuji drunk up your little gasps like a starved man. "You know I love you, yeah? My girl."
You could only nod, unable to even babble a response.
"Say it, hng— say you love me back."
"L-Love you, Yu."
And oh God, your words go straight to his cock, hurling him into a driven frenzy of mushing thrusts that glide right over your g-spot.
He can feel your cunt tighten in preparation, drawing a guttural moan from his stomach. He knew you were going to cum. It was like knowing him all these years had let him memorise your body, inside and out.
"Let me hear it, baby." He cooed softly.
Like an enraptured fizzing firework, your orgasm rolled over you. It bubbled loaded moans up your throat. You cunt fluttered around him, sucking him up, begging him to fill you with his cum. You jump at his sharp canines sinking down into the flushed skin of your neck and he shivered when he feels your nails dig into the sides of his neck.
He couldn't hold himself back anymore, barrelling over the edge as you clamped around him. His cock punctured your cervix in three strong half-way thrusts, leaving kisses of cum across your insides.
You both fucked your fleeting orgasms out on each other, you with rolling hips and Yuji with messy, unfocused thrusts that prodded against your walls mercilessly.
Even when you both came to a panting halt, Yuji still twitched hard and thick inside you.
"You're mine, now." He couldn't even conceal his absent breath. "You're my girl, yeah? M'gonna love you like this forever."
Aside from the proof in the territorial marks decorating your skin, or your gummy cunt being soaked from his cum, you already knew in your heart you were his.
But as his hips drew out in a slide you assumed would mean his exit, then pushed back in, making a circle of frothy cum and slick form around his cock you knew you weren't going to make it out alive without those words tattooed on your tongue.
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trippinsorrows · 21 hours
Text
looking through your eyes + eighteen
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authors note: this one gets pretty heavy and violent at points. please read the cw/tw's carefully in order to make the best informed decision regarding your mental ability to handle such heavy topics.
cw/tw: angst, violence, torture (gore), (light) fluff, ptsd episode, character being triggered, and references to childhood sexual assault
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
masterlist + story playlist
words: 10k
Solana knows Roman well.
She knew to start off the letter the way she did, asking for him to be open minded, because she knew exactly what his answer would be. 
No.
It’s the same answer he still has even after her logical explanation. It’s a selfish thing. He’s a selfish bastard at heart because despite her being vulnerable about her mental state and making a solid point, he still wants and plans to say no. 
Still plans come and take her home in a week.
And while he has his reasoning, believing that she can continue her healing outside of some mental facility, it’s also for his own good. He just wants her home. He wants to not have the house be so quiet and empty. To not have to be reminded of her absence in everything from the lack of the aroma of her delicious cooking to Dulce yelping and whimpering whenever he walks in the door home from work without Solana beside him.
He just misses her, and he wants her home. 
He understands where she’s coming from and agrees she could benefit from continuing to talk to someone, to definitely stay on medication. 
But, those things can continue without her being away from home.
There’s also the matter of safety. Yes, Roman went above and beyond what was probably necessary to ensure she has a copious amount of protection, but that’s still not as safe as her being with him.
And he’s almost certain that the facility she’s talking about is the same one Stratus mentioned to him. The place that’s an hour away.
That’s too fucking far.
From their home, Roman can make it to the hospital in ten minutes, if need be. 
Solana being an hour away from him just isn’t a fucking option.
He needs her…..she needs to be close to him.
He’ll just have to help her understand that. 
But, all of that is easy. 
What’s not easy is the other major takeaway from her letter.
I love you, Ro.
In all of his thinking, perhaps overthinking, regarding his thoughts and feelings about his wife, never did it really occur to him that she could feel the same. He knew she cared about him. She’s said as such to him before. But, for whatever reason, he never allowed himself to imagine that she could love him.
And that she could love him without expecting anything in return. Because she believes him incapable of loving her because of his own trauma, and that’s not entirely wrong. 
He does love her.
Fuck, he loves the living shit out of her.
But, he can’t act on it.
Even with this unexpected twist. Her loving him, which fucks with his head too. The why of it. 
There’s not a lot to love, if he’s being honest.
He protects her. Keeps her safe. Gives her that safe space. Beyond that, there’s not really anything else. 
Her standards must be so low. 
Regardless, Roman can’t allow this new piece of information to change or impact his decision.
He can’t openly reciprocate her feelings.
Even….even if he sure as hell feels the same. It’s too risky. Too dangerous. 
He just can’t.
Roman may love her, but he can never tell her he loves her.
It just has to be this way.
________
Ryan Alexander
Tyler Hawkins
Two men whose lives have been intertwined in various ways in the almost 60 years they’ve walked this earth. It started with a meeting in college, both men playing for the same baseball team, having a few of the same classes together, even pledging to the same fraternity. 
They would end up in the same graduating class and go on to open up their own private security company that offered protective services for upscale clientele. Celebrities, athletes, even politicians.
But…..for the right amount of money, they could do more than just protect lives.
They could take them too. 
The company easily and quickly made its name  known through the right or maybe wrong places. Information falling in the lap of parties who were less interested in safety and more interested in murder.
It’s how Xavier Miller got in touch with them. How Solana’s father hired them to take out his wife and daughter after learning of her plan to run away and steal his children away from him, more his son than anything. He really didn’t give a shit about Solana.
Never did. 
It was why when the hit failed to take out both Nina and Solana, Xavier was able to negotiate so that instead of paying the remaining debt due after the deposit. He got them to agree to slash it in half, leaving him owing 250k. The problem was as it always has been though. Xavier lacks vision, lacks long-term vision. He didn’t think about how finances could change for the negative between the time he made the deal and when payment would be due.
Because when that day arrived, he lacked the sufficient funds. But while Xavier may lack good financial and investment knowledge, he makes up for it in craftiness. 
He formed a new deal. One that truly gave all three men a win-win. Xavier’s debt would be cleared, and Ryan and Alexander would be able to enjoy indulging in one of their favorite sexual pastimes. A privilege they can usually only pursue when traveling overseas where child sex slavery runs a lot more rampant and unregulated. 
By luck though, they got their fill domestically in the form of an innocent, 12 year-old little girl. 
A virgin. 
Xavier’s daughter.
Solana Miller
Now known as Solana Reigns, the wife of the infamous Roman Reigns. The same man who Ryan and Tyler have no idea has been behind the absolute hell they’ve been through in the past almost two weeks. Kidnapped in the middle of the night, subjected to an unauthorized but ultimately approved (by Roman) beating by Jimmy and Jey before they were reunited with Xavier’s ain’t shit ass who had also received a long overdue beating from both Roman and the twins.
That beating, however, was nothing compared to the beginning stages of their demise, a version and level of hell only few experience, but something these fuckers have front seats for. 
Roman is methodical with his torture, and this might be the most determined he’s ever been to maximize pain. 
He’s going to ensure they only take their last breath when he feels it’s time, when he’s exhausted any and all ways to extend their life in order to extend their suffering.
And while many would think it started with the beatings, that’s far too simple, too easy. And Roman is neither of those things. He’s calculated and borderline sadistic when the occasion calls for it, and there’s not been a more deserving occasion for him to act on his dark, evil impulses than this. 
So, it was only fitting that all three men, the rapists and the son of a bitch who organized it all, know exactly what it’s like to experience what they put Solana through. 
And that’s exactly what Roman organized. Having all three men dumped and left defenseless in a maximum security prison. Whatever happened, fucking happened. 
And judging by the battered, stunned, borderline traumatized expressions on their cut, brusied faces, exactly what Roman wanted them to experience is precisely what they fucking got. 
For almost two weeks straight.
Jimmy and Jey toss the three men down on the ground before Roman before moving to stand behind him on either side. 
“Ya’ll like fucking little girls, don’t you?” Jimmy sneers, Roman not even needing to look at his cousin to know he’s livid. “So what’s the big fuckin’ deal?”
“Don’t like it when your assess the ones on the receiving end, huh?” Jey taunts. Fitting. 
But, now…..now it’s time for the real pain to begin. Roman lifts his hand to signify his desire from silence. The twins go quiet almost immediately. 
The Tribal Chief turns up his nose as Ryan spits up blood onto the concrete floor. Granted, it won’t make much of a difference. When Roman is done with them, the room will be bathed red. 
He steps forward. 
“August 7th, 2005 and September 8th, 2007.” Roman shrugs and asks the men, “what’s significant about these dates?” When he doesn’t receive an answer, he takes his gun and aims it for Tyler, emptying the bullet into his knee. The man howls in pain and begins to cry. Roman scowls. Pathetic bitch. “I aksed a fucking question.” 
He gaps,, forcing out through closed eyes. “I–I don’t know.” 
Roman crouches down in front of them, ignoring the stench of piss and perspiration emanating off their pathetic bodies. “August 7th, 2005. A mother and daughter were attacked. Stabbed. Mother died trying to protect her daughter. Daughter survived. She was ten-years-old.” Roman looks away at the adjacent wall, jaw clenching a bit as he recalls the next part. “”September 8th, 2007. Two men break into the house and spend hours gang raping a child in her own fucking bedroom before beating her half to death and leaving her for dead.” Dead fucking silence. “She was 12-years-old.” He turns his empty, stoic gaze back onto them. “Sound fucking familiar now?” 
“You carried out the rape,” he gestures to the set of crying rapists and then a numb looking Xavier. “And you arranged it.” Roman shrugs, rolling his big shoulders. “Seemed only fucking fair you three got a taste of what you put her through.” He then chuckles. “Now, I am a fair man. A fair Tribal Chief.” In a matter of seconds though, his disposition completely shifts, changes into something cold, heartless. “But, you don’t get that. You don’t get that fairness. You don’t fucking deserve it. You tortured her. You made her life a living fucking hell.” 
“But you know where you really fucked up?” He reaches his arm out, pointing toward the sledgehammer, one of the twins placing it in his hand. Roman stands up and kicks Tyler backwards, hesitating not a second as he brings it down to his knees, one by one, effectively and immediately shattering both. “You did it to my wife.” Roman taunts over the sound of the man crying. He then moves to Ryan, aware of the knee he already shot, sticking with one to avoid too much blood. Can’t have the bitch bleeding out just yet. “That twelve year-old girl was my wife.” When he gets to Xaveir, he exerts a special amount of energy to strengthen the impact of his blow as he demolishes the older man’s knees. “That ten year old-girl was my wife!” 
Roman tosses the sledgehammer to the side as someone has the audacity to utter out a pained, “p–please.” 
That infuriates Roman more than what should be humanly possible. “Please?” He sees the word came from Tyler. Snarling, Roman jumps over the man, raining a blow so heavy that it breaks his nose, the sickening crack sounding through the air. “Is that what she said when you fucking held her down and raped her!” 
The thought alone results in Roman continuing to punch the man until his fist is painted red and Tyler is clearly on the verge of losing consciousness. 
Standing back up, he huffs, speaking to the rapists, “17 years. She’s suffered for seventeen years because of you.” He points to a barely there Xavier. “And 29 years because of you.” Roman’s  upper lip curls a bit as he swears, “if I could torture you all for that long, I fucking would, but I can’t, so days will have to suffice.”
He’s filled with another level of rage when the cries and pleads for mercy intensify. “Shut up!” He then forcefully demands of the twins, “bring him in!”
Jey, he thinks, disappears for a few minutes only to return with an also bruised, battered Wes. Roman scoffs with disgust as Xavier looks horrified at the presence and sight of his son.
He coughs out, ribs probably broken or at least fractured. And if they’re not, Roman will make sure they are before the end of the night. “Pl—please don’t do—”
Roman has heard enough. This piece of shit has the fucking audacity to beg and plead for the life of his son but couldn’t even protect his own fucking daughter?
Fuck that.
Fury fills and controls the Head of the Table as he yanks up a barely conscious Wes and throws him against the brick wall, the impact loud enough for the sound of his shoulder popping to fill the room. Roman then grabs the sledgehammer again and rains it down on not only his knees but his hands as well, effectively smashing them, resulting in grotesque hairline fracture, bones protruding from his skin.. 
Xavier cries out and begs Roman to stop, which only fuels his tirade even more. Drives him to continue his brutal assault. Roman slams his fist onto Wes’s face, breaking his jaw before Roman squeezes the fucking life out of Wes’s neck and slams him again against that same brick wall. 
And without second thought, as Wes fights to remain conscious, face almost unrecognizable at this point, Roman reaches for his eye, using his middle and index finger to gouge out his eyeballs one by one, ignoring the horrified screams of both father and son. 
Xavier is full on sobbing but practically screams when Wes body drops to the ground like a ragdoll, and Roman tosses the bloody eyeballs toward Xavier. 
“Waterboard him!” Roman directs to the twins who don’t hesitate to drag a crying Wes out of the room by his limp arm, most likely broken in the midst of Roman’s vicious beating. Breathing uneven, Roman flips his hair back that had come out of his bun and turns his attention back on the three older men. 
“I’m going to make you all suffer the same fucking way you made her suffer,” he vows, every intention on maximixing pain in a way he’s never done before. “You’ll be wishing for something as fucking nice as hell when I’m done with you.”
________
Roman has just finished skinning a patch out of Ryan’s abdomen, the chunk of skin joining that of Tyler and Xavier’s slab of skin and other dismembered body parts. 
Wes is up next on the list.
The fucker strapped to the chair has gone unconscious, but his pulse is still relatively strong, so Roman continues. He’s done this too many times to be deterred by someone tapping out.
Tossing the bloodied knife and saw to the side of the room with the rest of the blood stained tools of torture, he grabs the drill and starts to navigate which drill bit to use when the door opens.
Right away, he’s tempted to use the object in hand on whoever was stupid enough to interrupt him.
Roman turns to see none other than his aggravating ass cousin holding a phone. Of course. Attention back to the task at hand, he bites out, “I told you not to fucking bother me. Whoever it is, I’m busy.”
Jey is about as moved by Roman’s tone as he is by the bloody, gory scene before him. Indifferent but still eager to leave, he instead provides the additional information that he knows will absolutely snatch Roman’s attention.
“It’s Bautista.” Sure enough, Jey can see his cousin’s big shoulders go still. “He—”
Roman stands up, tossing the drill to the side and quickly removing the gloves that are caked in blood, skin, and other anatomical matter. He stalks toward Jey, issuing his harsh demand,“give me the phone.”
Jey does as such, sucking his teeth when some of the blood flicks on him. “Man, that’s nasty as hell.”
Roman doesn’t comment, just walks out the room for privacy and demands to the man on the other end, “what happened?”
Bautista doesn’t hesitate and is quick with an easy response. “She wants to talk to you, sir.”
There’s only a slight decrease in concern levels that Roman experiences in hearing that Solana wants to speak to him versus Bautista having to inform him that something has happened. She’s conscious. That’s good. “Put her on.”
Bautista doesn’t say anything, but Roman hears what sounds like slight movement and hushed voices. It’s followed up with a quiet sniffle and even quieter, “hey….” Another sniffle as her volume increases ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, it’s—it’s so late.”
Roman has no idea what time it is nor does he care what time it is. He just wants to know why she’s crying and who he has to kill. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
She takes a shaky breath and follows it up with an even shakier answer, weighed down with the heavy emotions she’s clearly struggling with at this moment. “We—we—we talked about my…my rape in therapy today, and I’ve never—I’ve never actually spoken about it to anyone, and I thought—I thought I was fine, but now…..”
His chest suddenly tightens. “Are you thinking about—”
“No.” Her answer is the firmest he’s heard in the conversation so far. Serious and solid. “Not that. I just—I can’t sleep because now I’m thinking about….about it, and I just….I wanted to hear your voice, and I’m sorry—you were probably asleep.”
No. No, he wasn’t. Far from it. And even if he was, it wouldn’t matter.
She comes first. 
No matter what.
“I’m gonna come see you.”
“No.” The sniffling resumes as does her tendency to try to make herself as less of a ‘problem’ as she can, no matter how many times Roman tries to explain she never has and never will be anything of the sort. “I’ll–I’ll be okay.”
Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, he’s not taking the risk because Roman cannot physically handle hearing her crying, hearing her so upset and not be able to do anything about it.
“I’m coming, Solana. Give me a half hour, okay?” He’d head there straight away right now, but the idea of coming to her after spending house torturing men, blood, bone, and other unidentifiable matter splattered all over him, is the last thing she needs. “I’ll be there.”
There’s another delay, and he’d bet any money it’s her trying to hold back the tears as best she can. “Oh–kay.”
He swallows, asking, “can you put Bautista back on the phone?”
Again, more shifting on the other end. “Hello?”
“Don’t take your fucking eyes off her.” Roman’s tone is hardened and leveled. “I’ll be there shortly.” He doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t need to provide instructions on how to make sure his wife is kept safe.
Bautista already knows what the fucking deal is.
Roman can’t get cleaned and showered fast enough, ridding his body of all of the telltale signs that he’d spent the majority of the day torturing his wife’s family and rapists. She doesn’t need to know that. 
He’s impatient for the drive that feels much longer than the twenty minutes it actually is. A large part of that being that he just wants to get to Solana. 
She’d called him. She’d reached out to him.
The same thing he wishes she had done that night. Something he still feels strangely about but will learn to sort through later. Not now. 
Now his focus is on just making sure she’s alright.
That she’s safe.
Roman walks in with purpose, uninterested in Bautista’s short briefing, which is essentially more or less him just confirming that Solana hasn’t been left alone, another guard watching her as Bautista escorted Roman into the premises that’s otherwise locked down given it’s almost midnight.
Not that he gives a fuck.
Roman finds Solana sitting on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest. But, the minute her teary eyes land on him, she’s moving up from said bed, rushing over to him. Naturally, Roman catches her, holding her as she silently cries into his chest.
He’s gonna rip that fucking therapist a new one. 
“I’m sorry—” Roman hates hearing her apologize. He hates seeing her upset, but the fact that she’s apologizing for feeling the way she does is a different layer of irritation. It reminds him of how she used to be. Makes him realize just how much and deep this regression has been. “I just—I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 
He’s just about to once again remind her that she has nothing to be sorry about when her last statement snatches his attention. Alarms him a bit. “Solana….I need you to be honest with me—”
And she must know where he’s headed, because she pulls back, holding his gaze as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to hurt myself. I promise. I just….I just don’t want to be by myself.” 
It makes sense, and he believes her. Somewhat. There’s still that part of him that’s skeptical. He’s not sure if that part will ever go away either.
Solana swallows and licks her lips, asking in that tentative voice, “will—will you stay with me tonight?”
It’s an easy answer. Something he already decided the minute he heard her crying on the other end of the phone.
“Yes.” She looks so massively relieved by that one word. “But not here.” And before the confusion fully sets in, he clarifies, “I’m taking you home.”
As expected, she looks surprised and torn, “Roman, I—”
“You get released in three days, Sol. I’ll bring you back tomorrow afternoon, but tonight, you need to be home. You don’t need to be here.” Roman isn’t a fucking professional, but he knows his wife. Knows that what she’s looking for is the feeling of security. There’s no more secure place than with him in their home. And even with Dulce.
Solana seems to be on the same page, nodding and offering no further protest. “Oh–okay.”
As she’s barely allowed any personal items, it takes less than twenty minutes for her to be ready to go, Roman directing Bautista to handle any issues that arise regarding her departure.
Roman is sure Stratus or even Gail will have issues with his decision. He’s also 100% sure that he doesn’t give a flying fuck. 
Solana needs to get away. 
She needs to be home.
She needs to be with him. 
And, he’s proven correct, because the minute she walks into the house, she’s looking over at Roman, asking, “where is she?”
“Our room.”
Solana can’t seem to move up the stairs fast enough, Roman behind her, partially eager to see this long awaited reunion. He’s not sure who will be happier: Solana or her puppy. 
It’s about a tie though, because the minute Solana moves over to the side of the bed where Dulce is sleeping and gets on her knees, carefully petting the puppy, Dulce’s head snaps up.
And instantly, she jumps at Solana. 
They’re both crying, Solana holding onto Dulce who is a mixture of whimpers, licks, and that tail of hers excitedly wagging. 
Solana says something in her to Spanish, something Roman can’t make out, but he doesn’t need to make it out. It’s obviously something moving. 
Something healing almost. 
Solana looks up at him, laughing and crying as Dulce tries to lick her face. Her voice cracks a bit as she says to him, “thank you.” 
Roman nods, that same, warm, unfamiliar emotion building up. Fucking feelings.
Nodding, he says nothing, watching as she continues to hold onto and cuddle with Dulce. 
Yeah…..
Definitely the right decision.
________
Roman lifts his eyes from the phone that he just put on Do Not Disturb to set his gaze on Solana. Out of the shower, she’s wearing only one of his shirts. Nothing else. He can tell by the way the cotton almost outlines her nipples. 
Placing the phone to the side, he’s slightly taken back when she moves onto his lap. “I—” Her eyes drop downward, her hands grasping at his shirt. “I need a distraction.” He’s confused, but it’s only temporary as she trails off with the specific distraction she’s looking for. “Can we….”
He doesn’t need to hear more. Roman understands just what she’s asking for.
And his answer is simple.
“Solana, I don’t think…..” He has to phrase it correctly, word it so that it doesn’t sound like he is rejecting her. He is, but it can’t come across as just that. “You’re not—”
“I feel dirty,” she interrupts, eyes closing, mouth moving around as she does her best to balance emotion with verbalization. “I—I don’t want to feel that. I want—I want to feel you. I only ever want to feel you.” Solana opens her eyes, pleading almost. “Please.”
Something is telling him to tell her no, to find a way to decline without hurting her feelings or making her feel rejected, because that’s the last thing he wants. 
But, it feels almost impossible. She’s upset. He doesn’t want her to feel the way she’s feeling, and if she believes being intimate tonight will help her, then he’ll give her that. 
Roman nods and gently taps her hip, partially surprised when she moves off his lap, taking his hand as she lays back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. 
Roman’s lips hover over hers as she breathes, “I just want to feel you.”
It’s taking a painful amount of self-control on Roman’s part to refrain from taking here right here and now. Because while he’s mentally conflicted, there’s no denying the hardness that’s growing in his pants by the minute as she lifts her thigh and grazes it against his hip. There’s no properly explaining how much he’s missed this.
He kisses her, tentatively almost, letting her take the lead as she moves her arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Roman’s hand goes to palm her breast through her shirt which makes her breathe against his mouth.
He shuts his eyes for a minute. He’d almost forgotten the sweet sounds she makes, fodder for his growing desire. He moves his mouth to her neck, sucking on the spot he’s learned makes her writhe under him, her nails scraping down his taut back. 
And then, the shift.
Roman feels it only seconds before she acts on it, the way she starts to tense underneath him, the growing unsteady pattern of her breathing, the fear. But before he can pull away, she’s pushing him away, letting out a ‘no’ that comes from a different place, a different time. It comes from her trauma.
Her push is strong, but it’s not enough to get him completely off of her. Roman does that much all on his own, watching as she sits up in the bed and covers her face.
“I’m sorry,” she breathes into her hands. “I—I’m sorry.” Her shoulders tremble as the apologies melt into the bleeding of emotions she tried to mask away with intimacy. “I’m sorry—” Solana falling into a full out crying session, the third or fourth time she’s done as much tonight, is more than enough for Roman to motion her over to him.
“Come here.” 
He’s at least grateful she lets him pull her onto his chest, letting her cry on him as he lays them back in the bed, his protective arms around her. For a second, he berates himself for taking her from the hospital. If they were still there, he’d wake up whoever the fuck he needed to wake up to give her that medicine she was prescribed for moments like this.
Moments where she just needs more.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, crying subdued a bit. But Roman is unsure what he dislikes more: the fact that she’s so upset or the fact that she thinks she needs to apologize for being so upset.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” is all he says. His hand is on the small of her back, moving in comforting circles. “Nothing at all, okay?”
She doesn’t say anything, just continues to cry into him, Roman wishing he could do more to settle her. It kills him to see her so upset. 
A few minutes later, her tears having almost entirely subsided, she murmurs, “I’m sorry we couldn’t….”
He takes a deep breath, willing his voice to remain calm. “Solana, I told you before I don’t need that from you—”
“But, I wanted to. I just…..”
“It’s okay.” He cuts her off, kissing the top of her head. “I never expected that from you tonight anyway.”
He already knew she wasn’t in the mental space for it, but he didn’t want her to feel rejected either, so he went along with it. There’s a bit of regret, maybe more than a bit, but Roman also knows he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Still is. 
“Rest.” He instructs, grateful when she simply nods against him, tucking herself closer into his body. And he watches her closely and intently, an infinite amount of pleasure rising within him when he feels the steady rise and fall of her body, confirmation that she’s finally drifted off into sleep.
He doesn’t mean to fall asleep with her. He would actually prefer to stay up and watch her, but the weight of the day, mentally and physically, takes its unavoidable toll. And not too long after she succumbs to sleep, he does the same.
________
“Daddy.”
Roman’s eyes shoot open at the both familiar and unfamiliar voice. Looking down, he sees Solana sleeping peacefully on top of him, her hand atop his chest. But to his right, he finds sad eyes, tear stained cheeks, and a deep frown. 
Naturally, he frowns a bit as well. He hates seeing any of this family upset. “Bad dream?” 
She nods, holding onto the teddy bear in her arms. He’d gotten it for her a couple years back while he was away on business, and it’s become her comfort animal ever since. 
Roman is careful in prying Solana’s arm off him, grateful when the extent of her stirring is simply her turning over on the other side. Over the years, she’s gotten better with not being as easily disturbed or woken up.
And he’s especially thankful for that in this moment.
Moving the blankets down and off, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and rolls his shoulders. She shifts the bear in her arm to one side and reaches up for him to pick her up. “Come here.” Roman does as such, pulling her up as he stands from the bed. 
She lays her head on his shoulder while  he quietly walks them out the room, cracking the door behind him. Roman takes her downstairs into the living room and hits the lamp on the side table before grabbing the remote off the coffee table. 
Sitting down, she adjusts herself in his lap, holding onto her stuffy while he loads up the animated show with the creepy blue looking thing that kids apparently love, his included. 
Especially the twin on his lap. It’s like her comfort show.
“You wanna pick the episode?” It’s a preference. 
She nods and accepts the remote from him, selecting the same episode she’s watched the last 10+ times this has occurred. She almost always starts with this same episode, like she has to or else she can’t watch it.
A repeat and increasing thing, he’s noticing. 
As the opening credits roll around, Roman gently rubs her back, asking, “you wanna talk about it?”
She keeps her focus on the TV while shaking her head no. An expected answer given the fact that she never really likes to talk in general, but as Roman thinks about the increase in how often this is happening, he’s starting to wonder if it’s past the point where she gets a choice in the matter.
For the past few months, every so often, or more often now, he’ll be awoken in the middle of the night by his youngest daughter. Upset and clearly crying, she’ll ask him to sit with her, to stay with her until she falls asleep again. Though at some point, the addition of letting her watch an episode or two of her show seemed to aid in not only calming her down but eventually lulling her back to sleep.
And every time Roman tries to get out of her just what these bad dreams are, she remains quiet, forcing him to wreck his brain over what could be bothering her so much.
The unknown of it all is starting to mess with him.
He can’t help her if he doesn’t know what’s going on.
“Sissy?”
Both Roman and the daughter on his lap look over to see her twin rubbing her sleeping eyes as she walks over and climbs onto the sofa, the two adjusting so they’re both seated on top of him. “Did you have the bad dreams again?”
At that, Roman’s brow furrows. Did she talk about them with her sister?
He asks as such. 
“Do you know what they’re about?” Roman and Solana suspected that she’d confided in her sister, her true confidant, but they also didn’t want to risk putting a rift between the sisters by making one feel like she has to ‘snitch’ on the other.
However, an unspoken communication of some sort is exchanged between the twins. The quieter of the two reluctantly nodding as the outspoken one shares, “sissy has bad thoughts…..”
Roman takes the remote and turns down the volume versus pausing as he notices she’s still trying to watch. To some extent. And it’s clearly helping to calm her, so he won’t deprive her of that. But, he does have to ask, “what kind of bad thoughts?”
That could be and mean so many things. And if the situation was different, he wouldn’t be too concerned. The level and standard for ‘bad’ that he has compared to his kids is vastly different. But given how upset his daughter has been getting, there’s gotta be something more severe to the ‘bad’ this time. 
His twin, in more than just looks and demeanor, seems to hesitate for a second, Roman ready to encourage her that it’s okay to be honest with him. He needs that honesty at this point. “She—she has scary thoughts about something happening to you and mama. And—and bad dreams that something’s gonna happen to you when you go on your trips.”
Roman does his best to hide his surprise. And his concern. He wasn’t expecting that. Turning to the youngest of the two, he asks, “is that true?”
She looks down, tightening her hold on her bear as she nods slowly.
Roman closes his eyes and takes a second to gather himself. Comfort now. Process later. It’s become a bit of a routine for him.
Needing both of their attention, he takes the remote again to hit pause. 
“Girls….” Roman has to remind himself to keep it simple and at a level they can understand. “I’m never going to let anything happen to your mom. Or to you. Or to your brother. And nothing is especially going to happen to me.” Seeing the emotion especially present in his youngest, he kisses her temple. “I’m always going to come back home to you guys, okay?”
And that’s a promise.
Come hell or high water, nothing could separate him from his family. 
Especially his kids. 
“Told you, sissy.” She then smiles a little, adding on with a toothy grin. “Daddy’s like a superhero.”
Roman chuckles. Far from it. But whatever helps them. 
Taking over the duty of being the parent, showing that while she has many of her father’s interests and some of his temperament, she also has her mother’s caring nature, she asks, reaching for her little sister’s hand. “Wanna try to go back to sleep? You can sleep in my bed.”
The offer to not have to sleep alone as well as having some one on one time with him seems to be enough to be enough to coax her back  to bed. He watches as the girls climb off his lap, the oldest taking the youngest hand, as she also handles the parting words, “goodnight, daddy.”
He offers a small smile. Their bond is something special. “Night, girls.” Hands still locked, they walk away, heading back up the stairs. “Love you.” He calls out after them. 
An almost synchronized response is what he’s met with. “Love you too, daddy.” 
It brings that warmth back to him, Roman blowing out a deep breath when it’s just him and the paused screen on the TV. He takes a couple minutes to sit on the weight of the conversation. 
He doesn’t like knowing that his daughter is struggling with thoughts. Hates that they haunt her in the form of dreams. He knows better than anyone how difficult that can be. How exhausting.
So does Solana.
Thoughts of his wife and wanting to get back to her before she notices his absence and wakes up, Roman shuts off the TV and starts heading upstairs.
Walking back into their bedroom, he’s only partially surprised to find Solana awake, sitting up against the headboard, their son on her chest for one of his nightly feedings. 
She gives him a sad, knowing smile. “Another bad dream?” 
Roman nods and goes to sit back in the bed next to her. “Found out what they’re about.”
Solana’s eyes widen a bit. “She told you?”
He shakes his head. “The other one did.” He frowns a bit, sharing, “she’s having thoughts and dreams of something happening to us. Me especially.” 
Solana’s frown is deep and concerned. Valid. “What? Where—Where did that come from?”
“Don’t know.” Roman answers. He’d have loved to been able to ask more questions, but it’s also the middle of the night and just getting some kind of answer is a huge win in and of itself. “But, I wanna schedule an appointment with her pediatrician. If something else is going on with her, we need to know.”
Roman has an idea of what it could be, now starting to put different pieces together. Her particular way of doing things, rituals of sorts, thoughts she can’t control. But, he wants to be sure.
“Of course,” Solana agrees. “I’ll call in the morning.”
Good. 
Roman chuckles after looking over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:59am. He glances at Solana, “and you really wanna do this all over again?”
He’s still partially stuck on the fact that even with three kids, Solana is still wanting more. 
The thought alone brings out a heavy sigh just from tonight’s events.
All three of their kids up and in need of something in the middle of the night like he and his wife don’t have work in the morning.
He can’t even really picture an additional child—or two–added into the mix. 
Solana, however, only smiles, rocking gently to help soothe their son. “Only with you, papi.” A beat. “Only with you.”
________
“No!”
Roman is awakened by movement and volume. Both of which effectively deter and distract him from yet another strange dream, a fantasy of some sort.
Or…..something more. 
Regardless, he has neither the time nor energy—nor desire—to think about that. Not with the woman violently stirring beside him. A nightmare. It’s obvious Solana is in the middle of a nightmare.
“No….” Twisting against the mattress, Roman sees the light sheen of sweat on her forehead. He frowns. How long has she been in the middle of this nightmare? “Get off me….”
At that, he stills a bit. With Solana’s extensive trauma, it’s pretty impossible to know just what specific traumatizing incident haunts her dreams and interrupts her sleep. But this….this one is pretty obvious. 
And it guts him.
He moves his hands to her shoulders. “Baby, wake up.”
She starts crying, and Roman isn’t quite sure how much worse and useless he can feel. “No. Please—please. You’re hurting me.”
There’s a heaviness in his chest as Roman deepens his voice and shakes her a little harder. “Solana, wake up.”
It seems the more he says it, the more she writhes and cries, trapped in the throes of trauma. Roman doesn’t want to be physical with her, doesn’t want to exacerbate an already difficult situation, but he can’t just sit here and watch her suffer. 
He moves his hands to her arms, restricting her just enough, raising his volume yet again. “Solana, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up.” He’s not entirely certain if it’s his escalation or just the natural progression, but she shoots up, eyes opening for the briefest second before slamming shut. 
And then, the climax.
Roman is taken back when she starts pushing and shoving him, but that surprise is easily weighed down with sympathy when she starts talking again. 
“Get off of me!” She cries, never once letting up on him.
He takes it all, her fists really of no consequence to him as he continues to try to break her from this torment. “Solana, please—”
“No!” She’s the one with the increased volume, Roman biting back a hiss as a sharp almost burning pain throbs in his shoulder, the area where he was shot. But, it’s irrelevant. His focus is on Solana and nothing else. 
“Baby, it’s me.” He’s no longer restraining her, letting her let it out on him as much as she needs to. Whatever she needs in this moment, he’ll give it to her. He’s not sure what else to do besides that, to be honest.
But, it’s when Roman manages to cup her face, again, repeating the hopefully calming, settling words, “it’s me” that seems to help break through to her. Blinking, wet eyes open, filled with fear. He studies her, watching her focus on him, as the fear starts to diminish. Replaced with recognition. “R–Roman?”
He nods, his own concern settling seeing her anxiety lessen. “Yes. It’s just me.”
She releases a shaky, emotional breath, clearly coming to grips with what just occurred. But, her gaze settling on his shoulder seems to bring back that previous level of horror. “Oh my god, I—I hurt you.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He looks down, realizing she must have ripped his stitches when she was hitting him, blood trickling down his skin. Roman is entirely unbothered. “Solana, I’m fine.”
She doesn’t seem to be hearing him, too focused on the unintentional thing she caused. “I hurt you…..” 
He lowers her hands from her face, kissing her inner palms. “Baby, it’s fine.” 
“I–I’m sorry. I–She closes her eyes, taking deep breaths, asking him in an unexpected calmer voice. “I—I need to stitch it back up for you.”
Roman shakes his head. “I can do th—”
But, she cuts him off, sounding a little bit more stable and a lot more desperate. “Roman, please?” 
Not wanting to risk upsetting her again, he shakes his head, allowing her to take the lead as she grabs his hand and guides him into their bathroom. Roman sits on the toilet and watches her silently move around, gathering the medical kit and other needed supplies. 
His eyes don’t leave her as she works carefully and tediously to stitch him back up, Roman partially thankful her focus is on something else versus the horrific memories that seemed to have been tormenting her the past couple hours. 
He wants to say something, do something to help her feel better, to especially rip away the guilt evident in her eyes at ‘hurting’ him.
Solana may be the only person on this earth capable of doing as such, but it could never be physically. 
Ever.
“I’m not crazy. I—I promise.” Her voice is shaky, unsteady by understandable emotion as she finishes up, starting to put the supplies back. “I just—I don’t know—”
Roman takes her hands in his. “Sol, I know you’re not crazy.” Feeling an unfamiliar sense of openness and vulnerability, he asks her, “do you know why I was able to help you with your panic attack that night?” Her eyes are lit with confusion as she shakes her head no. Roman’s jaw clenches. He’s never once told a soul what he’s about to share with her. “It’s because I used to have them.” 
Her reaction is exactly what he would expect from anyone to hear such words coming from him. 
“Wh—what?” 
Roman’s eyes divert to the wall beside her as he powers through the discomfort. “It was….it was after my family was killed. I’d have nightmares about it and wake up freaking the fuck out.” Just like her. “That’s when they’d happen.”
“But, I couldn’t tell anyone, because they were already questioning if I would be fit to lead.” He scoffs, “I had to be perfect. I couldn’t let anyone know how fucked up I really was from what happened.” 
He can only imagine that the softness in her voice matches the expression on her face. “Roman….” 
“But, I couldn’t keep dealing with the shit either, so I found this book at my school’s library about mental health and whatnot, and it had a section on panic attacks and how to cope with them. So, I studied and learned them. It’s been fine since then. Haven’t had one in years.” Though that similar budding feeling of panic that used to be present before they’d occur is something Roman’s noticed having versions of for almost the past two weeks.
Since he found out Solana tried to kill herself. 
She lifts her hand to his face, and he closes his eyes. He can feel it. Can sense it. Her sympathy or maybe something different. Maybe empathy. Regardless, he doesn’t want or need it. The point was to not bring attention to his fucked up past but rather help her reduce some of her self-judgment. 
He stands up, forcing her hand to fall down as he instead cups her face, looking and speaking directly at her. “You’re not crazy.” Far from it. And he needs her to know that. “You just….you need help.” His voice shifts into something softer. “And I’m going to make sure you get it.”
Her gaze also shifts. Something both hopeful and sad. “I–I can go?”
Roman only hesitates for a second. “Yes.” 
The answer he gives her is in no way indicative of how he feels about it. He still hates it. Hates the idea of her not coming home for good in three days and instead going to yet another treatment facility. This one longer and farther away.
But, if there’s anything the past few hours have taught him, have shown him, it’s that Dr. Stratus and Gail were right. 
And so was Solana. 
She’s not ready to come home. 
She needs more help.
And he can’t, won’t, be selfish. Won’t be too consumed by his own want and desire to have her back with him. Not when it directly contrasts what she needs. 
And what she needs is continued professional help. 
So, that’s exactly what she’s going to get. 
“I’ll talk to Stratus about what we need to do.” And that’s more so in regards to location solely, so Roman can get a head start on working on safety precautions for her. He’ll keep Bautista with her. That seems to be a good fit. 
Solana, however, is bubbling with emotion again. From a different source. For a different reason. 
She pushes herself into his chest, Roman easily dropping his hands to her waist, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.” It’s as he holds her, her face buried into his chest that she murmurs those three, sacred, terrifying words. “I love you.”
He closes his eyes. 
It’s one thing to read it but something entirely different to actually hear her say it. 
He doesn’t know how to respond, how to react, what to say. 
Even if does feel the same way. 
So, he says nothing. 
________
“You took her out of the hospital.”
“Sure fucking did.”
Roman has never been so unbothered while sitting in Dr. Stratus office as she paces across, visibly and audibly stressed the fuck out by what occurred. 
After agreeing to let her continue treatment at the other facility, Solana was finally able to get some sleep. Roman as well. Not a ton, of course, because he woke up to her spot in bed next to him vacant. Dulce missing as well.
And if not for the note left for him that read ‘fixing us breakfast <3’, he might have even panicked a bit. Just a smidgen. Of course she would spend time doing something for them rather than herself. It’s such a Solana thing.
Regardless, he enjoyed breakfast with her but hated to see the saddened expression on her face as she said goodbye to her puppy, Dulce’s ears dropping and the whimpering returning as she also picked up on the pending separation.
She’s also felt and been impacted by Solana’s absence. 
But, it’s a necessary absence. 
Solana needs help. 
And it’s that, that oh-so important reminder, Roman keeps repeating to himself as this blonde bitch continues to berate him like he’s a fucking child. 
“Who the hell are you to make that decision?” She continues, pointing at him. “You do not get to remove my patient from my care without speaking to me!”
“I did what I had to do for my wife. She needed to get the fuck out of here.” Roman is a man who doesn’t believe in explaining himself, but given the situation, he makes a small exception. For Solana. Only for her. “But, if you don’t lower your fucking voice, you won’t have to worry about her, or anyone else, being your patient because the dead can’t be fucking psychiatrists.”
Dr. Stratus closes her eyes and shakes her head. “At the very least, you could have just texted me what was going on.”
“Keeping you briefed wasn’t my priority.” At all. “Keeping my wife alive was.”
She opens her eyes, asking, “was she suicidal?”
“She said no.” Roman still isn’t entirely sure he believed her. She could have been telling the truth, but she also could have been lying for a lot of different reasons. Still, that’s not something he feels the need to share. “She said she talked about her rape earlier that day in therapy and was having….flashbacks.”
“Flooding,” Dr. Stratus informs. “It’s when a survivor experiences intrusive thoughts, images, and flashbacks of their trauma.” She then looks at him, almost surprised, “she called you?”
Roman nods. “Said the coping shit wasn’t working.”
The doctor plops back down into her seat, saying more to herself than anything. “Well, I suppose that’s a good sign. That she reached out to you versus….other things.” That’s exactly how Roman feels. “Regardless, in the future, at least let me know what’s going on. I would have told you to give her the Hydroxyzine. We could have seen if it’s helpful.”
Roman doesn’t disagree with her there. The thought of one of her medications potentially being helpful definitely crossed his mind. But, he’s not about to tell this woman that.
He’s got other things he needs to discuss.
“The facility you were telling me about….” Roman looks away, not eager to have this conversation but knowing he needs to. For Solana. “Tell me more.”
________
A loud, guttural, almost animalistic growl leaves Samantha’s mouth at the same time the glass plate is tossed against the wall, shattering and spilling into tiny little pieces all across her kitchen floor.
Not that it makes a difference.
Punching the fridge, she ignores the throbbing in her fist and ineffectively tries to manage her nerves, dissuading the burning urge within to scream. It’s been less than 24hrs since she regained the ability to speak, her jaw finally healed enough and no longer wired shut.
But, now she’s left with nothing but pent up emotion all directed toward one person.
Solana
That fat bitch ruined everything. She stole Roman from her. The man who she’s been with since she was a fucking teenager. The man she always imagined would be her husband and father of her children, who would make her his Queen of the Bloodline, but none of that will happen now.
It won’t happen because of that slashed face whore.
Because Roman chose her over him.
Which brings up unfamiliar feelings towards her former lover.
Roman is an asshole. Always has been. As long as she’s known him, he’s been a dick, so his cruel behavior at times toward her never really bothered her. That’s just his personality. She never took it personally. 
Not until now, at least.
Because now, it’s not just his wife she’s mad at, it’s Roman too.
Granted, her fury toward the troll is significantly worse.
She’d kill the bitch if she could.
“Rough day?”
Samantha nearly jumps across the room at the sound of another person’s voice. She instead is braced against the refrigerator as she lands eyes on the last person she expected to find in her place.
“Seth?”
It takes another second for her to register that it truly is the once friend of her former lover. He sits on her sofa wearing at least three different types of animal print that are all outlined in some kind of bling, hair looking as unkempt as his mental health. 
She’s sly in trying to move closer to the knife set on the counter.
Seth, however, is as perceptive as he is insane. She stills when he casually pulls out a gun. “Ah ah. I just want to talk to you. That’s all.” He makes a face, playing with the gun.“Word on the street is that you got dumped.”
Samantha’s eyes narrow a bit. How does Seth freakin Rollins of all people know about her ‘breakup’ with Roman? Only those close to Roman would know that, and there’s no way anyone close to Roman would be speaking to Seth……
Right?
“Who—”
“You’ll find out about the members of this little crusade once you agree,” he explains, placing the gun on the sofa beside him, casually viewing his nails that are painted a hideous green. Like the color of slime from Nickelodeon back in the day. “Can’t risk snitches, of course.”
More interested than anything, Samantha asks, “what are you talking about?”
“Oh, that’s right.” He giggles, standing up and pulling a flask out of what seems like nowhere. “We’re gonna kill Roman Reigns.” Seth takes a swig as Samantha’s eyes widen, before he adds on, as if he forgot. “And his wife, Sadie.”
“Solana?”
Seth shrugs “Yeah, she can get killed too. Why not?”
Samantha finally laughs, crossing her arms. “You’re even crazier than I realized. You can’t just kill, Roman.” It’s damn near impossible. Does he not know the mountain of bodies that have tried and failed at the very same thing he’s suggesting? “And there’s no way in hell he’ll let you get even close enough to kill that bitch wife of his.”
“Oh, that’s a lot easier than you think.” Seth takes the flask to his mouth again, voice teasing yet malicious. “The Bloodline is full of traitors.”
Samantha goes quiet, wondering how much of this is madness and just how much is true. It seems too asinine to be true. 
But, there’s also the fact that the only way Seth could have known about Roman leaving her was if someone within the Bloodline told him, which would most definitely make them a traitor. And even that feels almost impossible. Roman’s family is notoriously loyal. Who would want to betray him?
The plural form of the word ‘traitor’ is also something that catches her attention. 
Could there be more than one traitor?
Seth meanwhile seems to be in a sense of imaginative blood lust, practically squealing, “the infamous Roman Empire is going to be coming to a gloriously bloody, gory end, and we’re trying to see who all want to be a part of our little murderous, traitorous gang.” 
Again, she’s caught off guard, realizing just now he’s clearly referring to more than himself. “Gang?”
Seth tilts his head, pouting as he says almost mysteriously, “we both know your former lover has no shortage of enemies.”
That is dangerously true, but what’s even more dangerous is this suicide mission Seth is proposing.
“How is this supposed to be any different from any other time people have tried to kill Roman?” As much as she would love to see Solana’s life drain from her ugly ass face, Samantha would rather not lose her life in the process. 
Seth is way too excited to answer. “Because this time, the call is coming from inside the house.” Her eyes widen. “With a little….Nightmare help as well.”
There’s so much to process in that one bombshell of a sentence. “Someone in the Bloodline is orchestrating this?” Not to mention whatever role the Nightmare Factory is playing. That’s just salt on an open, gushing wound. 
This type of betrayal is bound to crush Roman.
Samanth smiles. 
Oh, revenge is so so sweet. 
“I’ll join, but on one condition.” Seth’s brow lifts, a sign he’s ready to hear out her caveat. “That I get to stab and kill that bitch Solana myself. I get to be the one to take her from Roman.”
At the vision alone, Seth’s mad smile grows followed by that crazy ass laugh. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.” He claps his hands together, nodding. “You got yourself a deal, curly.”
Samantha nods, pleased with the arrangement. 
Whoever previously took the knife to Roman’s little wife, causing all those ugly ass scars, failed to get the job done. 
Samantha won’t. 
She does have another question, shrugging. “So who all is a part of this shit anyway?”
She’s especially curious about who the traitor is.
Or traitors. 
Of course, it’s just more mental edging with the self-proclaimed visionary. “You’ll get to meet the gang soon enough, but we’ve got one more person to recruit.” Samantha’s curiosity is evident, prompted by Seth casually tossing the flask up and down with a wicked gleam in his empty eyes. “Can’t take down Roman Reigns without inviting his good ole’ pal Brock Lesnar to join in on the fun, now can we?”
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The Diary of Tom Riddle- Diary! Tom Riddle x Reader - P6
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pairing: Tom riddle x Fem reader
warnings: Horcruxes, Manipulation, Tom being Tom, side effects of being possessed, bleeding from the nose.
summary: 16-year-old (y/n) finds a mysterious black book on the floor of after it slips out of Ginny Weasleys caldron, curious, she picks it up and keeps it-which leads to one thing after another and discovers the book is far more than it seems.
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3- -Part 4- -Part 5-
=
Harry peeled open the pages of the diary, it was half blank-with loads of notes in the first half-all retaining to the classes that Hogwarts offered. “Defense against the dark arts, Charms, Transfiguration,” Harry muttered under his breath as he flipped through the sections of notes.
It was like looking through Hermione's notes folder-everything sectioned off and dated.
“it’s just a diary being used as a notebook Harry, it’s clearly nothing special,” Ron said as they walked to the hospital wing to see Hermione, who was still recovering from the Polyjuice cat incident.
Harry only hummed in response, for some reason he felt the diary was far more than it seemed-even though all that was written in it was notes and silly doodles. He liked the one of the greasy Snape- even the Slytherin girl this book belonged to didn’t like Snape.
“You should give it back to her Harry, it might not have her name clearly its hers, has her name on the front page and everything.” Hermione said quietly as they visited her in the hospital wing, Hermione tapping the first page that had the Slytherin girls name in ink-right below T.M.Riddle's name that was also written in ink.
“Yeah, but the back says it belongs to Tom Riddle, which Ron says has a trophy about some-great thing he did for the school 50 years ago,” Harry said, Hermione snatching the book from him-grabbing her wand from her bag.
“Then maybe he wrote something down in here about the last time the chamber was opened-“ Hermione said and Harry quickly caught up with what she’d realized, eagerly leaning over her shoulder to watch her tap her wand on the diary thrice. “Aparecium!”
When nothing happened, Hermione huffed, grabbing a red eraser from her bag. “It’s a revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,” Hermione said when Harry gave her a quizzical look. She rubbed the eraser hard on one of the blank pages, but nothing happened, and Hermione huffed.
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find in there,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn’t be bothered to keep it, and that Slytherin girl got it 2nd hand.”
-
Harry couldn’t explain why he hadn’t given the diary/notebook back to the Slytherin girl, even after she’d left the hospital wing, he’d overheard Madam Pomfrey tell her to take it easy as the stress from NEWTS and the chamber had made her body go into overdrive.
Harry thought how the girl looked when he’d found her in the bathroom was far worse than stress-she almost looked like she was dying.
He shook the thought out of his head, remembering the haunting look in the girl’s eyes when she’d looked at him, he looked back down at the diary in his hands, letting the blank pages flutter in his hand.
Earlier-Lockhart had hired all those ‘cupid’ dwarves and one had cornered him, singing a crude poem to him from Ginny Weasley, in the process, his book bag had ripped, and ink had gotten everywhere-including the diary.
And yet, the diary had no trace of ink on it, unlike the rest of his books, instead the only thing that remained was the notes. Harry frowned in thought-opening the diary to a blank page and dipping his quill, letting a blot of ink drop onto the page.
After a moment-it sunk into page-leaving not a trace of ink.
And then-before his very eyes-new words began to appear.
‘(y/n)?’
Harry’s eyes went wide, and he nearly jumped out of his chair to go show Ron and Hermione, but instead dipped his quill again.
“I’m sorry no, my names Harry Potter.”
There was a moment before the response but eventually the neat scrawl of the diary appeared.
‘Hello Harry potter. My name is Tom Riddle, how did you come upon my diary?’
Those words began to fade just as Harry had re-dipped his quill and hurriedly wrote back.
“The girl who had it had a seizure or something, she dropped it and I picked it up,”
His words faded and very quickly Tom wrote back to him-almost hurried.
‘(y/n). is she okay?’
“She is, she just got out of the hospital wing, madam Pomfrey said it was from stress.”
‘Very good. Why are you keeping my diary, Harry Potter?’
“I was wondering if you knew anything about the chamber of secrets?”
-
(y/n) practically tore her room apart, looking for Tom’s diary. “well-when did you last have it?” her roommate/friend asked, watching from her bed concerned as (y/n) flipped over her mattress.
“I don’t know! Uhgh-the bathroom, I think? I got all dizzy n shit and the last thing I remember before passing out as throwing my bag to the floor.” (y/n) huffed, tapping her finger in frustration on her bedpost.
“Maybe it’s still in the bathroom then? It could’ve been washed into one of the stalls with all that flooding from moaning myrtle?” her roommate suggested and (y/n) had to concede she might be right.
God Tom was going to be so pissed at her for letting him stew in toilet water for so many days, she’d have to get him more good ink or something to make up for it.
However, the diary wasn’t there.
“Myrtle?” (y/n) asked gently, looking up at the floating ghost girl, who stared at her. “Did my books happen to be picked up when I fell in here last week?”
Myrtle tilted her head in thought and nodded. “Oh yes, Harry Potter picked up that little black book,” Myrtle said faintly, before going back to moaning and groaning about death. (y/n) thanked her and left the bathroom, looking to find potter to see if he’d kept her/Tom’s diary by accident.
She found him and his friends walking through the courtyard, talking about…the chamber of secrets? “Hagrid opened the chamber of secrets 50 years ago,” Harry said quietly to Ron and Hermione.
“Riddle-” That got (y/n)’s attention, had Harry really kept the diary and written in it? Thank god all of hers and Tom’s conversations didn’t stay in the diary, only keeping the notes he rewrote for her. “-might have the wrong person,” said Hermione. “Maybe is some other monster that was attacking people…”
“How many monsters d’you think this place can hold?” Ron asked rhetorically, (y/n) following close behind, hoping to get the diary back from Potter, she felt weird without it, like something was missing.
Merlin maybe she was getting way too attached to Tom.
“We always knew Hagrid had been expelled,” said Harry miserably, “and the attacks must’ve stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn’t have got his award.”
What sort’ve hero stories was the nerd telling the 12-year-olds???
She decided to interrupt their little chat about Tom, the chamber, and Hagrid-wanting the diary back.
“Hello,” she said softly, waving to the three, looking down at them as they froze and turned to face her, though relaxed when they saw it was only her-the girl who had the diary before Harry. “Sorry to interrupt you, but it was brought to my attention that you might still have my notebook? It’s a black leather-bound book with the name Tom Riddle on the back? It has all my notes for the upcoming exams on it and I need it before they start.”
Harry nodded jankily, but didn’t reach into his bag for it. “Uh-yeah, uh, did you know it could write back?” (y/n) tilted her head but nodded.
“Uh, yeah, it’s a personality enchantment, very rare advanced magic.” (y/n) said casually, just wanting the diary back and not to converse with the three for much longer.
“Did he tell you anything about the chamber of secrets?” Harry asked, remembering Riddle's concern for (y/n) and near demands, to be returned to her.
(y/n) shook her head, having never asked. “No, never asked, but he is tutoring me for defense against the dark arts, since Lockhart is… Lockhart.” (y/n) said with a scrunch of her nose and Hermione looked to have half a mind to scold her while the boys just smiled, glad to finally have met a girl who thought Lockhart was just as stupid as they thought he was.
(y/n) just huffed, crossing her arms. “Could I have the diary back? I really do need those notes,” (y/n) asked again and Harry nodded, telling her he was keeping it up in his dorm room and he’d pass it back to her later. She narrowed her eyes a bit, feeling an odd flare of frustration and possessiveness at him for keeping the diary for even longer but pushed it down.
“Thanks,” She said, giving the three a short wave-turning on her heel and heading for her next class.
-
Hours later, almost dinner, she finally got the diary back, Harry handing it back to her-quite reluctantly might she add-but (y/n) didn’t care, clutching the diary close to her side as she thanked Harry and turned to go back to her dorm, moving the diary from her side to her chest.
It felt like a hug as she held it.
She sighed in relief as she stepped into her dorm, pressing her back against the door to close it, letting her head drop to her chest slightly, clutching the diary to her chest.
She really didn’t know why she was attached to the diary/Tom so much, when she didn’t have it/him on hand, it felt…odd, like something important was missing.
(y/n) hopped onto her bed and flipped open the diary, glad to see all the notes Tom had rewritten for her still there. She grabbed her quill and opened her ink well, dipping the tip before pressing it to the page.
“sorry for dropping you in the bathroom :s”
‘(y/n)?’
“yeah, I had some sort of seizure from the stress of the whole, chamber and exams, situation. Got really dizzy and my nose started to bleed really bad, passed out in the second-floor girls' bathroom.”
‘Merlin. Are you okay?’
“I am now, some rest did good for me, Madam Pomfrey told me to keep taking it easy though”
‘I see. No late night chatting with me anymore then.’
(y/n) gasped a bit and sat up, frowning.
“not fair! I like talking to you!”
‘I like talking to you too, but staying up till, merlin knows how late, talking to me isn’t helping your health. So, no more of that until you’re feeling better.’
“fine.”
‘(y/n).’
“I know! Thank you for looking out for me, means a lot. :3”
‘What in Merlin’s beard does :3 mean?’
“it’s a cute smiley face~! :3”
‘Stop it it’s, what’s the word you used? Cringe?’
“hey!”
-
Things finally felt normal again, (y/n) was finally getting some good rest as the months moved from February to May, her DADA tutoring sessions with Tom went pretty well, though once in a while he’d ask if she’d like to have a more-in depth lesson but she always declined, still a little weirded out by the way he could do the whole ‘pull someone into his subspace’ thing.
Plus, last time she’d gotten a nosebleed from the magic strain of it, she didn’t want to have another one.
Since her little-trip-to the hospital wing, the attacks had stopped and everyone else was finally relaxing, the tension finally easing up as the threat of ‘the heir of Slytherin and its monster’ seemed to have its fill and leave.
(y/n) currently was having some trouble with her potions work, her brow furrowed as she looked over her assigned work again and again, but it was just all blurring together in a mesh of nothing. She sighed, dropping her quill and rubbing her face. She needed a break.
She looked down at the diary, seeing she’d gotten a big ink blot on it from dropping her quill, sighing and moving the quill off of it and into the ink well. The ink sunk into the page and Tom’s writing appeared.
‘What was that for?’
“dropped the quill on the page, sorry.”
‘Tired?’
“very, i wanna go take a nap but the quidditch game is today and my friend is no doubt going to drag me off to that and its within the hour, hardly have time to even get up to my room and put my stuff away.”
‘I see.’
‘I could help?’
“how?”
‘If you would allow me, time doesn’t really pass within the diary, you could take a short nap if you wish? I just wouldn’t be able to talk to you for a few days, as I know the last time I pulled you in, it caused immense strain on your magic, and I’d rather avoid that.��
(y/n) hesitated, her quill hovering over the page as Tom’s words faded away.
“you promise it wont hurt me this time?”
‘I promise. Do I have your permission?’
(y/n) looked around the library, glancing at her watch, and then put her quill to the page again.
“you have my permission.”
In the same way as it did the first time, the gutter of the book became a blinding light that seemed to pull her into the diary-and the hands that caught her were even gentler than the first time.
She looked up, seeing the sepia-toned face of Tom Riddle, smirking down at her as he held her steady. She cleared her throat, gently pushing herself up to stand and he chuckled, reaching out his hand to hers. “C’mon, I know a good spot for a nap,” Tom said, and she took his hand, letting him lead her down the diaries Hogwarts halls.
He led her to the Slytherin common room, and she laid down on the big couch that was even comfier than the one in the actual common room, her eyes fluttering closed as a blanket was laid atop her, a cold hand brushing the hair from her face.
-
When she awoke, she was back in the library, sleeping over her books and the diary. She jolted up, checking her watch-only 15 minutes had passed, and yet it felt like she got several hours of sleep. She picked up her quill, writing a quick thank you to Tom before she packed everything up and rushed to her dorm room to change for the quidditch match.
As she went to leave the common room to go to the quidditch match-everyone suddenly crowded in, all looking worried. “What happened?” (y/n) asked her friend who quickly took her by the hand to sit down by the fireplace.
“There was another attack,” her friend whispered and (y/n)’s heart stuttered in her chest, her eyes widening.
“What? Where?” (y/n) gasped, her mouth gaped open.
“The library,”
(y/n)’s heart dropped to her stomach, her hand covering her mouth. She’d just been in the library! Had the attack happened while she was there? Or after she left?? But she was just there!?
“I was just there,” she whispered and (y/n)’s friend frowned, a horrified look growing on her face.
“Oh my god-did you see the petrified students?” (y/n) shook her friend in response, clutching at her stomach as the feeling of missed danger passed over her.
“No, I didn’t, i-I fell asleep while studying,” (y/n) said, which wasn’t a total lie, her face growing paler as she realized how close to danger she’d been, what if the monster had attacked her? How close had the monster been? Had it attacked while she’d been with Tom? Or right after she left?
Snape, the head of Slytherin house, walked through the portrait doorway, holding a scroll in his hands. “Attention, all of you.” Snape said, sounding drearier and more serious than normal. That was freaky, since Snape never panicked about anything. “Due to the recent events, these new rules will be effective immediately. All students will return to their house common rooms by six o’clock every evening. No student is to leave the common rooms after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”
Many of the students groaned at the very restricting rules. “But no Slytherins have been attacked!” Draco Malfoy complained, and Snape silenced him with a glare.
“We will not be taking those risks, Mr. Malfoy. Any breaking of these rules and you will find yourself back in London before you can even whine.” Snape drawled, pinning the scroll to the common room info board. “And I should tell you, unless the perpetrator behind these attacks is caught, it is likely the school will close.”
With a flare of his robes, Snape dramatically left the Slytherin common room, locking it behind him. Everyone looked at each other, wary that one of them might be the heir of Slytherin-the reason behind the attacks. It was a running joke that Harry Potter was the heir, due to his parseltongue ability, but that’s all it was-a joke.
(y/n), however, was mentally panicking, remembering that odd dream from months ago, remembering herself speaking parseltongue. But she’d also overheard Potter and his friends talking about how Tom told them that Hagrid was the one accused of opening the chamber last time.
And she couldn’t ask Tom to confirm that right now, as he was going to take a rest due to him using his limited magic to keep her from straining her own magic while he kept her in his subspace. She sighed heavily, rubbing her face.
The attack, the double attack, had happened while she’d been in the library, the library was where the attack had happened-and most likely while she’d been asleep.
What if…what if she was the culprit? What if she, unknowingly, was the heir of Slytherin somehow and had been doing things while unconscious?
Merlin that was a terrifying what-if.
She was muggle-born, that was true, but muggleborns had to have some sort of magical lineage in their blood, what if…what if the witch/wizard in her bloodline had been a descendant of Salazar?
Fuck she hoped not.
God, she wished she could talk to Tom right now, he always knew what to say to calm her down when she was spiraling.
Hours later, it was announced Dumbledore had been suspended by the school board and Hagrid had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.
Fuck.
-end of part 6-
man im on a rolllll taglist!
@dracosslxt4eva @dream-your-own-way @slaggylemon
@slytherinbackintomyroom @starryhiraeth @larallott
@kayytt-2 @chimchoom @joyfulnightmare-hq
@theicypiscean
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kittenfangirl20 · 2 days
Note
Marry Me Au
Lucifer was doing vocal warm ups, he was in his suit for the stage and ready to marry his long time girlfriend and fellow singer/actress Lilith.
They were going to get married on stage during their concert tonight.
He had no idea that he was in fact going to get married tonight, just not to Lilith.
-
Adam groaned as his best friend Angel dragged him to the concert. He didn't even want to go. Sure pop music isn't that far off from rock music but it still wasn't rock music.
Adam: Do we have to? I have school in the morning.
Angel: Your precious studies can wait, it's not everyday that Luicfer fucking Morningstar is going to get married! And I got us free tickets!!
Adam was in college as a music major. Not long ago his long time girlfriend Eve rejected his marriage proposal saying that she didn't see a future with him.
Adam: I don't know Ang.....
Angel: Oh come on, if nothing else it will be fun! I even made this!
He held up a giant sign that said "Marry Me?"
Adam: Why?
Angel: Because it's their fucking marry me concert numb nuts. That's the song they will sing and then they will actually get married. I hear ten million people or more will be watching.
Adam: I wouldn't want a wedding like that.
-
Lucifer was all set to go out when his manager Emily came running up to him.
Lucifer: What is it what's wrong?
Emily grimaced and showed the news feed of Lilith making out with his assistant Steve.
The footage was from an hour ago....
*Lucifer walked onto the stage and he saw Lilith in her wedding gown as they sang the song together, but all he could think of was her cheating on him and he just couldn’t look at her the same way, when the song was done, the priest walked out to marry them*
Lucifer: I can’t marry you.
*Lilith looked at him through narrowed eyes*
Lilith: Why not?
*to not be forced to look at her glare, Adam’s eyes went to the audience and he saw the most beautiful man holding up a sign saying “Marry Me” on it, he didn’t look like the type who would listen to his music, but those honey brown eyes had him captivated*
Lucifer: Because I am marrying someone else tonight.
*Lucifer jumped into the audience and walked over to Adam*
Lucifer: Hello, what is your name?
Adam: Adam Kadmon, wait am I the one you are marrying?
Lucifer: Please just join me on the stage.
*Adam noted that poor Lucifer looked nervous and upset*
Adam: Ok.
*Adam walked with Lucifer onto the stage, while he didn’t sing the type of music he listened to, he had to admit the guy was handsome at least*
Lilith: Are you serious? You are actually leaving me for this tub of lard?
*Adam nervously covered his stomach*
Adam: I’m not that fat, and I at least I am a bitch who is being left for the supposed tub of lard.
*before Adam knew what he was doing, he grabbed Lucifer’s hand and they walked to the priest*
Adam: They came for a wedding, let’s give them one.
*Adam was mainly doing this to stick it to Lilith, but what he didn’t know was he had just met what would turn out to be the love of his life and they were going to get married*
@things-arent-what-they-seem66
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lokissweater · 1 month
Text
you noticed me ⚾︎
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{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}
summary: megumi fushiguro is one of the best players on the major league baseball team, and when you finally spot him on the big screen after practically dozing off at every game you went to with your girl friend? you were absolutely IN LOVE, but IN DENIAL that he could ever like you back… but he does, and bad.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, NASTY NASTY MEGUMI, oral sex, SMUT, pussy eating in locker rooms HEH, mentions of drinking but like tiny just once, reader is oblivious to the way megumi wants her, DOMINANT AF MEGUMI PHEWW, cursing, flufffff!!, barely any angst, DIRTY TALK, pet names, aged up characters.
word count: 12.1k (IK IM SORRY ITS A CUTE ONE THO)
authors note: you GUYSSSS i love megumi fushiguro i want him so bad and i LOOVEEE this fic!! i worked like a little worker bee for days and i really hope it makes you guys happy :] MWAH!!
want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
megumi fushiguro was the hottest baseball player you had ever seen in your life.
and you didn’t even like baseball to begin with, dozing off at every game your girl friend dragged you to because her boyfriend was on the major league team— but the one time you decided to open your eyes and pay attention to the big giant screen in front of you?
there he was in all of his emo glory.
number eighteen.
focused, half lidded eyes resembling borderline boredom as he waited for the pitcher to throw, his forehead glistening with sweat, flushed red cheeks, and his jet black hair slightly peeking over his forehead from underneath his baseball cap.
“my god—” your hand flew and you gripped your girl friends arm tightly, your jaw to the fucking floor as your eyes were gorilla glued to the screen, her quirking a curious eyebrow at you as she matched your frantic nature.
“what? what is it? who did you see? whats happ—”
you pointed your finger up at the screen, him swinging and hitting a fucking grand slam as he proceeded to get four runs with one hit, the one thing you knew about baseball besides a home run.
“that’s a— that’s a grand slam!” you pointed frantically, probably looking absolutely insane as you stood and screamed your fucking head off.
your girl friend laughed loudly, “you like fushiguro? megumi fushiguro?”
you jumped up and down, your girlfriend astonished and laughing as this was the first time she’d ever seen you energetic at a baseball game.
“he’s friends with yuji!” she yelled over the hollering of the crowd. “we can go to their locker room after and you can say hi! i heard he’s kind of mean though—”
“no!” you spun around, eyes wide and terrified. “i already know he’ll eat me alive then! i’m a loser, i can’t talk to him i don’t have game i—”
she rolled her eyes. “you’ll be fine—”
“no i can’t!” you shook your head frantically. “please he looks like the type to love bomb me and then leave me i don’t think i can handle that—”
she snorted. “are you sure?!”
you hesitated for a moment, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed back over to the screen, seeing megumi breathing a little heavy from running the field, his hands on his hips as he scanned the arena.
you sighed through your nose. “yeah i’m sure!”
“suit yourself!”
a year. a year you spent continuing to tag along with your girl friend to their games, staring lovesick and sad at the big screen over megumi, and standing outside far far away from the locker room once they scored another big win and not going in like you used to, waiting for your girl friend to finish up speaking to her boyfriend as you tried your best to avoid the chance of running into megumi.
she finally emerged from the locker rooms one day, a knowing smirk on her face.
“i told yuji.”
you blinked. “told him what?”
“that you like fushiguro.”
“no!” you gasped, a hand flying and smacking over your mouth. “please no im about to experience the biggest heartbreak of my life—”
“oh relax!” she grabbed your arm and practically dragged you towards the locker room doors. “he’s not even here megumi already left, but yuji wants to talk to you.”
“why?!” you exclaimed. “to let me down easy? to tell me he’s sorry on his behalf—”
your girl friend just about threw you in and went in after you as you stumbled, eyes blown wide as the air became humid and heavy, several of the players lounging about and refreshing themselves as the sound of lockers slamming shut echoed through the space— deep, broad voices laughing filling the room as yuji spotted you, his eyes friendly and polite. “y/n!”
you relaxed and smiled, “hi! you guys played really well today!”
“megumi also played really well today.”
“oh my god—” you groaned, throwing your head back as you spun around, heading straight for the exit.
“wait wait!” he laughed loudly, jogging up to you. “sorry sorry.”
“what do you want with me..” you mumbled.
he gave you a half smile. “i wanted to tell you that megumi’s weird.”
you snorted, “elaborate please.”
yuji threw an arm around your girl friend before continuing.
“you know we support your feelings and what you want…” he began.
your eyes narrowed. “why are you guys talking to me like you’re my parents—”
“but—” yuji cut you off. “i’m just gonna be straight with you. i’ve never ever seen megumi interact with anyone, let alone another woman, besides the team.”
“i don’t think i’ve ever seen him have a proper conversation with anyone on the team besides you actually…” your girl friend muttered to yuji.
yuji winced. “yeah…” he turned back to you. “back when megumi and i first got signed, he was really popular and a lot of girls would come up to him after games for his number or just to talk to him.”
“well obviously he’s a greek god,” you grumbled. “this is hurting me man get to the point.”
he sighed. “he basically scared all of them off. didn’t give a single one a chance and was kinda mean... he would either ignore them or straight up just tell them he wasn’t interested without them even being able to get a word in.”
you stared blankly.
“i tried to tell him that he needs to be nicer but he’s just not interested.”
you kept staring.
“that’s why i’m telling you this because we don’t want you to get hurt and i feel like if you try and talk to him he’s gonna be a dick and it might…” yuji looked at you sadly. “it might be a lost cause.”
you blinked.
“y/n?”
“that’s fine!” you squeaked, hands tight at your sides. “a part of me already knew. i read about it in an article, and i’ve seen his interviews.”
your girl friend looked at you with concern filled eyes. “are you okay?”
“yeah!” you waved them off. “why wouldn’t i be?”
“because your eyes are red.”
“ppffttt!” you blew out. “i’m fine! seriously. i never intended to talk to him anyways, i’m too much of a scaredy cat.”
you extended your arms out and engulfed the both of them, squeezing tight. “thank you guys for telling me though, i appreciate it.”
“y/n…” yuji trailed off.
“i’m gonna take off though, i’ll see you guys later, okay?” you waved and opened the door. “love you!”
and you scrammed, your heart in a million pieces.
it’s not like you didn’t already know. you knew, so why were you sad? why did you feel like you just got ran over by a double decker bus? why did you pathetically feel so sad?
this was the reality. you never stood a chance.
so why were you crying?
you continued walking down the hall and towards the main exit, utterly embarrassed at your sobbing and trying your best to hide it as you navigated through several groups of people, your vision entirely blurry as you were basically drowning in your tears.
you had barely escaped the crowd when you spotted a little secluded area in the lobby, trudging over pathetically and plopping down on the coushy seat as you wiped your cheeks, staring at the wall in front of you— a huge glass casing proudly decorated with the teams trophies and awards, gigantic portraits of the players on the team adorning the walls with megumi’s serious beautiful framed face right in front of you just making you feel worse.
you already knew, but regardless of megumi’s stand off ish personality, you liked it. you had curiously browsed his interviews and quotes in articles, and you always laughed at his responses, him almost every time offending the staff without even trying or knowing, and you found it so so funny, it only making you admire him and want to get to know him even more, even if it was just a friendship.
megumi fushiguro was one of the best players on the team in history, and as you closed your eyes, silent pathetic tears still slipping down your cheeks?
he never felt so out of reach.
“here.”
your eyes opened, but you literally could not see jack shit as your tears were still blurring your line of sight, you completely and utterly mortified that a stranger caught you sobbing as you wiped your face quickly in response.
“put on my sunglasses if you don’t want people to see you crying.”
the voice was gruff and lazy, but you could not care less as you took the sunglasses and settled them over your eyes, the lenses so freaking dark that you couldn’t see a single thing— your sight worse than before.
but it relieved you, as you figured no one could see your bloodshot eyes and therefore thankfully not notice you losing your mind over something so stupid.
“thank you,” you mumbled. “sorry.”
“for what.”
you felt the plush of the bench shift next to you, figuring that the stranger man sat beside you as you refused to look in their direction out of embarrassment.
not that you could even see in the first place.
“for looking like a loser.”
the stranger man snorted. “s’fine.”
you wiped your nose with your sleeve, sniffling.
“how do you see in these?” you muttered softly. “they’re making me claustrophobic i can’t see a thing.”
“that’s the point,” he hums.
“how come?”
“i get migraines everyday. they help.”
“oh i see.” you responded softly. “have you ever run into a wall because of them?”
you hear him huff out through his nose. “i did once, when i first got them.”
you giggled gently. “did you bleed?”
“no,” he spoke calmly. “i got a bump on my forehead.”
you snickered, “what? loserrr.”
you stood up and carefully tried to walk around a little, testing out how to guide yourself through the dark lenses and trying to be careful and not bump into a wall (which was literally impossible), your hands out, feeling around.
“jesus christ i’m just kidding now i feel bad. i think im gonna bump myself into a wall too so we can call it even.”
you couldn’t see, but the stranger man’s lips twitched at your comment.
“don’t do that.” he murmured. “sit back down.”
you listened and started making your way over, feeling him reach out and wrap his fingers around your wrist carefully and guide you to the bench, you plopping down on it once you felt it.
“thank you!” you responded sweetly. “…i’m actually glad i can’t see a thing right now.” you perked up, pushing the sunglasses back up over the bridge of your nose.
“why is that.”
“so i don’t have to look at megumi fushiguro’s big portrait in front of my face.”
the stranger man stopped.
“…why?”
“because he indirectly broke my heart.”
you heard a little audible laugh, and you smiled to yourself.
at least someone is having fun right now.
“how did he indirectly break your heart?”
“my girl friend’s boyfriend is yuji itadori. she spilled the beans against my will about how i have a crush on him, and yuji told me that he’s mean and he’ll basically bite my head off and tell me to scram.”
“did he?”
“uh huh,” you nodded. “they were trying to let me down easy, but it’s not like i was gonna try and talk to him anyways. i’ve gone a year without saying anything i can go on and on and on.”
the stranger man hummed.
“he’s so cool though…” you murmured, dazed. “he’s gonna be a hard one to forget about.”
“why do you like him?”
“i feel like im being interrogated,” you giggled.
you felt the stranger man lean back against the wall. “sorry, just curious.”
you copied him and crossed your arms, “mmm… because he’s really good at what he does. i admire that most of all.”
you tilted your head. “everyone berates him for being mean but i like that he’s supposedly mean for some reason…. he’s just serious about his profession and he doesn’t want to waste time. he’s also the hottest man i’ve ever seen so that definitely helps.”
the stranger man laughed a little.
“i don’t know,” you sighed sadly. “maybe i’m just demented. i am demented.”
“if yuji itadori told you the exact opposite about him, would that have encouraged you to go up to him?”
you sat in thought for a moment, but ultimately shook your head. “no. it’s too embarrassing for me and i’m also a big fat wuss so…”
you slid your fingers underneath the lenses and rubbed your stinging sore eyes. “maybe in the next life if i’m lucky, ill be reincarnated as a cool baseball man too and i won’t have to deal with this shit.”
“cool baseball man.” he repeated, tone seemingly amused.
“yup.”
the stranger man sighed. “is this why i found you crying?”
“maayybeee?” you dragged out shyly, your cheeks flushing.
it was silent for a moment, your vision completely black but his on your rosy cheeks, oddly staring that if you could see right now, you’d probably call him a creep.
“i’m sorry i made you cry.”
you jumped back.
“no not you!” you huffed. “have you not been paying attention? catch up man—”
you felt a shadow reach up and tug the sunglasses slightly away from your face, your eyes constricting against the bright lights of the hall as they tried to adjust.
and when they did?
megumi fushiguro was sitting right next to you, a tiny smile on his face dressed in all black with his teams baseball cap on.
your eyes widened dramatically and you slapped both hands over your mouth, beyond horrified as everything you had thought you were telling a stranger about him, you were telling him directly, your brain short circuiting and your body heating up like a fucking hot flash.
“oh my god i’m so sorry!” your voice was muffled, you shaking your head in absolute denial.
you immediately sprung up and grabbed your purse, slowly backing up further and further away from him.
his smile widened.
oh my god.
megumi fushiguro was smiling, a sight you’ve never ever seen during his games, practices, interviews, articles, or magazines as your cheeks increased in shade— wanting to mentally take a picture and remember forever as you knew you’d probably never see him smile like that again.
but he was smiling.
“pretend i don’t exist!” you stammered, “pretend this never happened i’m sorry this is so embarrassing keep winning your games okay and i’ll keep being an idiot far far away from you—”
“where are you going?” he chuckled lowly.
“—you’ll never see me again i’m going home and i’m going on lockdown—”
he laughed through his nose, his lips in an amused smile.
“you don’t have to do that.”
“yes i do—”
“you don’t have to forget me either.”
“that i definitely do—”
you were halfway out of the main entrance doors.
“hold on y/n—”
megumi stood, his long legs walking over to you and you froze.
y/n?
you slowly turned around, your face pale and afraid.
“how do you know my name?” you asked softly.
“your best friend is dating yuji, is she not.”
you nodded, eyes blank.
“i’ve been seeing you inside the locker room after our games for like… two years.” megumi mumbled.
oh.
oh that’s right.
you didn’t actually notice megumi until last year, when you decided to finally open your eyes for once during a game and that’s how you spotted him for the first time on the big screen in front of you, in all of his gorgeous handsome entity.
“oh.”
he raised a hand and pressed his index finger to your forehead, nudging you softly.
“dummy.”
“s-sorry..” you gave him a wobbly bashful smile, your cheeks pinky as you rubbed your red eyes.
his eyes slightly softened and he shook his head. “s’fine.”
megumi continued to stare at you, a stone cold face that always seemed to scare off the teams entire fan base, but only made you feel numb and giddy all over every single time.
you smiled wider then, and megumi’s lips twitched.
cute.
“i’m— i’m gonna go now.”
“do you have a ride home?”
you stopped. “no i was just gonna call an uber—”
he shook his head and walked past you, his shoulder brushing gently with yours with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you turned and stared at him.
he paused and looked over his shoulder.
“you coming?”
your eyes widened. “coming? w—where?”
he rolled his eyes. “i’m taking you home.”
“no!” you shot your hands out. “it’s okay! really! thank you thank you i appreciate it but—”
he stared lazily.
“come.”
you pressed your lips into a thin line and tipped your head down, taking tiny painful steps as you followed after him to the parking lot.
megumi led you from the public parking area to a secluded section around the back of the arena, one you assumed was for players and crew members only as you nervously gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling absolutely sick.
you both continued to walk down until you arrived to a private parking garage, megumi slipping out his keys from the pocket of his hoodie as you approached a shiny black luxurious car sitting neatly in a spot.
his car was really fucking nice, and you figured so being as he was one of the most popular players and probably had more than enough money in the bank— your fingers trembling as you gripped the passenger side door, settling yourself inside his plush cool leather seats and all black interior.
megumi pressed the ‘start’ button and his engine roared to life, the motor echoing through the structure as you clumsily tried to put on your seatbelt, your cheeks growing pinker with each passing second that you just couldn’t get the stupid damn thing to— click—
he reached over across the console and took the seatbelt from you, pulling it over your body and clicking it secure without a word.
“thank you.” you said softly, eyes trained to your lap.
megumi gave you a small nod and backed out of his parking space, driving around a couple of rows before making his way out with the night air softly breezing through your hair as he drove, his dash illuminated with blue lines that ran smoothly across.
“can you put your address in—”
“oh yeah!” you jumped. “sorry—”
you reached over and tapped in your address on his big touch screen, watching the way the gps registered the location and gave him the estimated time of arrival.
forty fucking minutes.
“megumi..”
his eyes looked over at you for a second before turning back to the road.
“hm?”
“i live kinda far from here and i don’t want you to drive the opposite way from where you live.”
you leaned a little, eyebrows pinched. “i can take an uber seriously, this is too much trouble i—”
“you’re already in my car.” he deadpanned.
“i’ll jump out.”
he pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile.
“i have child lock on.”
“child lock?!” you gawked. “is this what you think of me?”
“you’re a little helpless… and you’re a crybaby.” he mumbled. “child lock stays on.”
you giggled after, your eyes shining and filled with mushy feelings for him as you nodded. “you’re probably right.”
he looked over at you then, and he smiled, softly.
“what do you do?”
you fidgeted. “h—huh?”
“do you um…” he ran his thumb over the top of his gear shift. “do you work? do you go to school?”
he’s asking you?
“i go to school!” you responded shyly but kind. “i go to a college that’s about fifteen minutes from your stadium. i usually go and meet up with my best friend after class if there’s a game.”
he hummed. “are you a big baseball person?”
you grimaced.
do you lie? do you tell the truth? do you roll down his window and attempt to jump out of the car that way?
you played with a strand of your hair. “i— i um—”
he raised an eyebrow.
“i— don’t?”
he cocked his head. “you don’t?”
you shook your head no, completely ashamed of who you are as a person as you covered your eyes.
“i knoww i suuucckkk,” you whined. “the only things i know about baseball are home runs and grand slams— which you did!”
you pointed at him excitedly. “last year! i remember you hit a grand slam! i got so excited that for once i knew what the fuck was going on and why everyone was going crazy…”
you fiddled with your fingers nervously, your eyes trained to the road. “i felt so included.”
he chuckled, and unexpectedly, reached over and gently ruffled your hair.
you then stared at him as he did so, doe eyes wide and cheeks pink.
megumi was truly just beautiful— his smooth face that didn’t have a single blemish on his skin shining under the moonlight, his black spiky hair peeking from under his cap that you had no doubt in your mind was soft and velvety.
you hated that you’d probably do anything for that man.
“i’m sorry i made you cry,” he repeated, you recognizing his words from before.
your eyebrows furrowed.
he was still thinking about that?
you shook your head furiously, “you didn’t! i swear it’s okay. i’m just crazy.”
he huffed out a laugh.
megumi thought you were odd, but in a good way. he thought everything you did was a little funny, as you were jumpy and clumsy and a crybaby and helpless, but he also took note of how polite you were. he noticed how considerate you were of him even though you were really upset, and you were kind of sweet… really sweet actually, your personality something that was totally different from the usual girls that came up to him.
well, the usual girls that used to come up to him back when he first started.
megumi pulled into your driveway and shifted the gear into park, the doors automatically unlocking.
you opened the door and stepped out before leaning down and peeking your head in.
“thank you for the ride!” you said sweetly, a cute smile on your face. “i’m sorry you had to listen to my confession against your will.”
he shook his head. “it’s alright.”
you went in to close the door.
“y/n.”
you leaned back down, “yeah?”
“are you gonna stop coming to our games?”
you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, your eyes darting around the interior of his car nervously.
“i— i don’t think so.”
“good.”
megumi watched you close his door and walk back a bit, him shifting his gear into reverse as the corners of his lips turned a tiny bit upwards.
“i’ll see you then.”
as you watched him pull out and drive away, his engine roaring down the street, you could not stop or simmer down the way your heart raced against your chest, so much so that you were afraid it was going to burst through your chest and literally kill you.
the next time you went to a game, you hadn’t told your close girl friend yet as she led you through the crowd and down to the v.i.p. lower level seats like always, a kind courtesy of yuji’s that he did whenever he could.
as you watched, you embarrassingly spotted megumi almost the minute you arrived, stars and hearts in your eyes as you watched him do his thing and work magic through the field with his absolutely insane batting, strong and purposeful as he barked orders or observed the opposing team for leads.
once his and the opposing team switched sides, megumi looked up as he jogged, his eyes seemingly scanning the v.i.p. front sections until he spotted you.
he raised a hand and gave you a little wave, and your eyes widened as you timidly, hesitantly, gave him one in return— your cheeks turning pink.
“who are you waving at?”
your girl friend pressed a cheek against yours and looked.
“who is- fushiguro?!”
you looked at her sheepishly.
as you recounted the story to her, her eyes bulging out of her sockets and screaming her head off every two seconds, her head snapped to the field.
“i have to tell yuji—”
“no!” you gripped her shoulders. “it’s literally nothing! he drove me home and he probably just feels bad for me.”
“megumi isn’t the type to make a crying girl feel better or drive her home.”
“it’s because he knows that we know yuji.”
“mm i don’t think so..” she scowled, crossing her arms in eventual defeat as she stared straight ahead.
that’s how it went for about a month.
you would come to their games, megumi would wave at you from the field or you would catch his attention and wave at him, and you would briefly speak to him casually just after his games, your conversations with him usually lasting no more than three minutes as he was often pulled by his coach or a crew member.
but even though the conversations were short, they were really nice, and the both of you never seemed to notice the people around you wanting his attention until he physically had to get pulled away.
but you still refused to go inside the locker room, knowing that was surely the place where you had to talk to him for longer than three minutes. you were too scared, embarrassingly so as you bid your girl friend and yuji goodbye from just outside the door before leaving every time, completely unaware of the way megumi would stare expressionless at you from inside.
when your girl friend invited you to the team’s yearly banquet, you flat out said no, decision firm and unmoving as she begged you over and over and over again.
“please please you have to go! you can’t avoid megumi forever!”
“what is the purpose of me going though?” you sighed, shaking your head with a smile at the sight of her dramatically on her knees over you. “for you it makes sense because you’re with yuji but what’s the excuse for me? i’m not anybody’s plus one.”
“yes you are,” she got back up on her feet and wiggled her eyebrows, “you’re megumi’s plus one.”
“bye i wish,” you mumbled, plopping down on your bed.
“okay you’re my plus one, or yuji’s! so he has two plus ones!”
she walked over and sat down next to you, resting her head against your shoulder as she sighed. “please come. you don’t have to talk to megumi okay? fine. but just come with me, i’ll have a better time if you do.”
you gave her a silly smile and thought for a moment, her sad tone swaying you as you finally gave in.
“only if you swear you won’t force me to talk to him.”
she nodded eagerly.
“i swear!”
so you stood there, nervous and biting your thumb as you frantically looked around, dressed in a pretty black off the shoulder mermaid style gown with a high slit exposing your leg— fiddling with your styled hair as you waited and waited and waited for your girl friend to come back from the dessert table with yuji.
you hadn’t seen megumi yet as you were trying to keep on a look out, because the moment you did see him all dressed up? you were sure you were going to start pathetically bowing for him on your knees in front of all these people and end your social life forever.
finally, she came back and handed you a little pastry, you thanking her kindly and taking a small bite.
“wait no!” she gasped, turning her pastry around. “fuck, i got the wrong one. i meant to get the vanilla one this is coconut.”
“i can get it for you this time.” you smiled kindly, her looking at you gratefully as you patted her shoulder, making your way over to the dessert table.
your eyes lit up like stars at the sight of it, grand and luxurious as any kind of pastry you could ever possibly think of was present— neat and gourmet-like, each adorned with elegant toppings as multiple huge chocolate fountain stations ran from the sides.
“hi.”
you jumped and looked to your right, megumi standing there beside you with a bored expression, clad in a polished black button up and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
you gulped.
“h—hi.”
“i didn’t think you’d come.”
he lazily picked up a tiny slice of chocolate mousse cake and looked at it.
“i was dragged by my best friend,” you puffed out a laugh. “she said i was her and yuji’s plus one or something like that.”
he nodded, biting his cake slice and swallowing.
“you stopped coming inside the locker rooms.”
you faltered.
he noticed that?
“oh yeah! i just—” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “i’ve been really busy with school so i study right after…”
for some reason megumi eyed you carefully, and your cheeks grew pinker the more he blatantly stared at you as you fidgeted.
“are you—”
“fushiguro!”
you both turned your heads to the source, and you spotted an unfamiliar guy, one who you assumed was on the team with them, smiling enthusiastically and throwing a heavy arm around megumi’s shoulder.
“who’s this? i’ve never seen you talk to anyone besides us!”
megumi only spared him a nonchalant glance before he looked back over at the dessert table.
the unknown man extended a hand out to you, and megumi’s eyes snapped to it.
“hi! i’m takuma!”
you cheerfully took his hand. “y/n!”
“are you megumi’s girlfriend?”
you gawked, guilt and embarrassment already filling your body at the thought of megumi finding that comment uncomfortable and being uncomfortable because of you.
at his own banquet.
“n—no!” you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “i came with my best friend and yuji.”
takuma unhooked his arm and let it rest beside him. “oh nice! you know yuji as well?”
you nodded, “mhm!”
the rest of the crowd began to take their seats for the awards ceremony segment, and the three of you walked over to your designated table by yuji and your best friend, who’s eyes widened at the sight of you next to megumi.
you all sat, and takuma pointed to the empty seat next to you.
“is anyone sitting here?”
“oh no!” you smiled politely. “it’s empty you can—”
“take mine ino.”
megumi pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down on it, scooting up. “it’s closer to the front.”
huh?
“o—oh!” takuma scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “okay! thanks fushiguro.”
he only nodded in response and stuck his face in his champagne glass, sipping.
and he was right. you watched as takuma navigated through the circular tables before sitting in a seat that was right smack dab in the front.
“that’s really nice of you megumi!” you chirped. “he has such a good view now!”
“mhm.”
your best friend smacked a hand to her forehead with a shake of her head, and you looked at her quizzically.
the awards ceremony was the most fun you’ve ever had, as you were over the moon for all of the players that were awarded prestigious titles and recognitions, and even more excited for yuji and megumi, the both of them combined taking award after award that by the time the event was done, your table was filled to the brim with frames, medals, and trophies.
your doe eyes glowed over megumi’s earnings, pride and admiration bubbling in your chest as you took in the result of his hard work, feeling like he was the most talented person you ever had the privilege of knowing.
he stared at your enamored look.
“you’re so cool, gumi..” you gushed, not even noticing the little nickname you gave him.
but he did.
“cool baseball man?” he responded softly, referencing your words from when you first met.
your eyes snapped to his and you gave him the shiniest smile, nodding quickly. “yeah! cool baseball man.”
megumi looked down at his awards, and after a couple of seconds, picked up a shiny gold medal hung on a baby blue striped lanyard, holding it out for you.
“here.”
your eyes traveled down.
“what?”
“for you.” he pushed the medal forward.
shock crossed your face, and you frantically shook your head, pushing the medal back to him. “no! no megumi that’s yours you earned it—”
megumi rolled his eyes and held on to the edges of the lanyard, effortlessly setting it over your head and around your neck, the medal clinking and twinkling against your chest.
“i have four others. it’s fine.”
“no but—”
he carded his thumbs underneath your hair and gently slid your hair out from beneath the lanyard, setting it delicately over your bare shoulders.
yuji and your best friends jaws were on the floor, but you didn’t notice, too busy ogling over the fact that megumi fushiguro was the kindest person you had ever met, utterly amazed that he selflessly gave you something so precious. you.
your gaze trailed down to the medal, and you softly touched it with the pads of your fingers.
“t—thank you gumi…”
his lips twitched.
you realized then that the music had started and the crowd had already dispersed to celebrate, some dancing in the center while others mingled on the sidelines or hogged the dessert table.
and you spotted your best friend with yuji, the both of them smiling adoringly at each other, laughing and dancing— something bashfully wished for yourself as you grinned softly at them.
megumi followed your gaze, and he huffed an amused small laugh through his nose.
“they met at a party didn’t they?”
you looked to him and nodded, “uh huh! i was with her. she was so scared to talk to him and i literally had to throw her in.”
he scratched his cheek. “i remember. i was there.”
your jaw dropped. “you were?!”
he nodded. “and i remember you too.”
you sat there in silence.
how long had megumi been around in your life without you knowing? how didn’t you ever freaking notice?
before you could press any further, megumi squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his forehead in pain, groaning softly.
you jumped, “are you okay? what’s wrong?”
he shook his head. “migraine. the lights are fucking with me a little.”
“oh!” you frantically looked around the table and around him. “where are your sunglasses? the dark ones the ones you ran into a wall with!”
megumi snorted and shook his head again, eyes peeking at you a bit. “it’s fine. i left them at home.”
your eyebrows rose, “you left them?”
he nodded and dropped his hand, sitting up straight and trying to open his eyes fully to seem normal, but his lids only dropped again and his forehead fell to rest against the table.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled. “just give me a minute.”
“don’t be sorry gumi…”
you figured the rest of the night was going to be like this, and if megumi stayed, he was going to end up dealing with the dull ache in his head for hours on end and not enjoy his banquet.
but you wanted him to enjoy it. this was his night, and you didn’t want him to spend it pissed off and writhing in pain.
“do you want to leave?”
he turned his head to the side and looked at you.
“we can um—” you fiddled with the medal around your neck. “we can go outside? or we can go for ice cream…”
you tilted your head to the side cutely, and you were oblivious to the way megumi’s cheeks went a little pink at the sight.
“ill pay though!” you smiled sweetly. “it’s the least i can do for the medal you gave me.”
he gave you an endearing half smile and nodded.
your eyes lit up. “really?! okay!— wait let me just say bye to my best friend and let her know—”
you quickly stood and walked over to the dance floor, megumi watching after you before picking up his black blazer and holding it underneath an arm, wondering how the fuck he was gonna pick up all of his awards himself.
“y/n!” your best friend gushed. “you’ve been talking to megumi for hours what the fuck is going on—”
you laughed. “nothing! it was nothing but i’m gonna go get ice cream with him!”
“what?!” her and yuji said in unison.
“did he ask you?” yuji pushed.
“no!” your eyes narrowed. “of course not i’m a big fat loser why would he? i invited him because he has a migraine so—”
your best friend hummed, a smirk on her face. “oh i see... use protection.”
“huh?!” your jaw dropped. “no! that’s not—”
“y/n!”
you turned and saw takuma walk over to you, a big smile on his face. “you enjoying the banquet?”
“oh yes! it’s really great!” you smiled kindly. “the dessert table is absolutely insane.”
“right?!” takuma stepped closer to you. “they go all out every year, it’s what everyone looks forward to.”
“i can definitely see why!”
he chuckled and nodded but then turned to you, speaking quieter. “listen um… i was wondering if you were uh— well if you wanted to dance? with me? y’know… maybe get to know each other better and then—”
yuji shoved his lips to your best friends ear.
“he’s stealing megumi’s girl.”
“i know!” she whispered harshly. “what the fuck do we do—”
“i don’t know!”
“well call megumi over—”
suddenly, a tall broad figure walked in between you and takuma, your vision blocked by his back.
“sorry ino,” megumi stepped to the side a little and placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the exit. “we were just leaving.”
yuji and your best friend gave each other a low high five before their eyes darted around, putting on false ignorance.
“sorry!— it was nice meeting you takuma!” you called from over your shoulder before the both of you stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air.
megumi’s car was parked right out front, him unlocking the doors with a button just like he had done the last time, you noticing how all of his awards were set neatly in the back seat.
“oh i’m sorry gumi! did you carry these over by yourself? i was gonna help you—”
you sat yourself on his passenger side seat, the leather creaking with every movement you made.
he shook his head. “i had my publicist team do it. it’s fine.”
“oh okay…” you mumbled, still feeling a little guilty that you didn’t help him.
you went to reach for your seatbelt when megumi’s arm flew in front of you and grabbed the strap, pulling it over your frame and clicking it securely before his hands wrapped back around the steering wheel, just like he had done a month prior.
you couldn’t make out his expression, as it was blank and stone-like and not a word was coming out of his mouth as he backed out from the parking space, but you smiled at him cutely nonetheless and thanked him.
the nearest ice cream shop was literally down the road from the venue, and the drive took less than three minutes before megumi pulled in and parallel parked on the side of the street.
you both stepped out and walked inside, the shop colorful and vibrant as what looked like twenty different assortments of ice cream were on display, your eyes launching across each flavor excitedly.
“i haven’t had ice cream in a fat minute…” you murmured as you pressed your hands against the glass.
“me neither.”
“which flavor do you want megumi?” you asked him sweetly, your eyes still glued to the flavors that it made him chuckle.
“um…” he stepped forward and scanned the different colors. “i’ll take whatever you get.”
you looked at him and your eyebrows softened, “are you sure? what if you don’t like it?”
the corner’s of his lips turned upward, the sight making your heart skip a beat.
“it’s okay. i trust you.”
you ended up getting your all time favorite flavor that you never skip— cake batter, one that tastes different depending on who’s palette it is, and something you anxiously thought over as you gnawed on your bottom lip and stared, waiting for him to try it as you both sat on a park bench not too far from the shop.
“why do you look like you’re about to cry.” he snickered lowly.
your eyes snapped to his and you giggled. “i might if you don’t like what i picked out.” you plopped a little spoonful in your mouth, the cold ice cream melting and spreading over your tongue as you swallowed. “cake batter is a hit or miss for different people…”
he hummed, “how come?”
“it’s either too sweet or just nasty.”
“i have a sweet tooth.”
your eyes lit up, “so do i! i’m a big sweets person. i love love desserts and chocolate and ice cream… but i’m not the biggest fan of candy.”
“you’re not?”
“i love candy but not how i love sweets… and i wouldn’t randomly pick it out like at the store because i wanted to. most likely i would get a cookie.”
megumi liked how much you talked.
“have you always had a sweet tooth?” he pressed on, looking at his ice cream cup.
you nodded. “have you?”
“not really,” he shook his head. “i didn’t pick it up until i met—” he stopped. “…my dad.”
met his dad?
megumi spotted your confusion and continued.
“my actual dad disappeared. dunno where he’s at. all i’ve heard is that he had a bad gambling addiction so i’m guessing it had something to do with that.”
your eyes softened.
“gojo is kind of like my dad…” he mumbled. “he’s supported my sister and i financially ever since i was maybe five or six.”
“you have a sister?” you murmured, eyes big.
he nodded. “i do.”
he scooped a bit of cake batter ice cream up with his spoon and plopped it into his mouth, smiling softly. “gojo gave me a sweet tooth. he can’t go a day without it.”
you’d never heard megumi open up so much before, and you felt incredibly lucky and special to be the one to hear about his family and share a precious moment with him over eating ice cream, something you wanted to treat delicately and remember for as long as you lived.
“do you like it?” you asked softly, gesturing to his cup.
“i love it.”
you beamed, and he took in your cute smile for a minute as you ate some more on your end.
“i’m sorry about your actual dad… but i’m glad you and your sister got the support you needed when you were young.”
he nodded.
“did he encourage you to do baseball? or was it you?”
“he did initially.” he shook his head. “he was annoying at first, was a cheerleader at every game and was so loud.”
you giggled.
“but i grew to like it… and that’s what i wanted to do for a career. if it wasn’t for gojo’s funding i wouldn’t have been able to.”
you hummed, savoring the ice cream a bit before swallowing. “that’s really nice, gumi. i’m really happy you got the opportunity to grow your skill out like that…” you swirled the ice cream around your cup with your spoon. “what you have is a solid gift, and i would hate to see it not get the recognition it deserves when you’ve worked so hard to make it what it is now.”
you looked at him. “so i’m really, really glad that it does get it.”
megumi stared at you, face blank and a scoop of yet to be eaten ice cream on his spoon, his cheeks growing hot.
“i don’t know why you think so highly of me.” he murmured.
everyone thinks he’s rude.
your eyebrows furrowed. “i don’t think megumi, i know. you’re not a mean person, you’re honest and serious about the important things in your life. and if the medal around my neck that you gave me selflessly doesn’t tell you otherwise? i might have to kill you.”
he laughed, loud, his eyes sparkling. “you might?”
you bit your lip to refrain yourself from freaking out over his smooth laughter. “i might.”
you subconsciously rubbed your hands over your chilling arms then and megumi eyed it before he put his cup down, reaching next to him for his blazer and opening it up as he gently placed it over your shoulders.
you looked at him like he was the world then, doe eyes big and round and shimmering, and megumi felt like he could do anything with that look as long as it came from you— a permanent red tint on his cheeks that was entirely your doing.
“thank you..” you mumbled shyly, your eyes glued to your now empty cup of ice cream on the bench as you clutched the sides of his blazer, the smell of him wafting in your nose that made you absolutely weak.
megumi timidly, slowly, reached up and moved a strand of hair from your eyes then, and you looked up.
“pretty…” he murmured, dazed even.
his hand fell and landed gently on your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, but instead of moving it, he let it stay there, his hand smoothing over your plush soft skin as he was completely entranced by your heavenly face, his body pulling his lips closer to yours as megumi’s breath quickened with absolute need the higher up his hand trailed up your yummy thigh.
you couldn’t say a word, he practically didn’t let you as his lips pressed delicately and timidly against your plush ones, his mouth moving so slowly and his tongue parting your wet lips for the purpose of devouring more of you, all while his fingertips reached and felt the side straps of your panties— the material alone making him erratic and desperate while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.
your mouths moved faster now, the sounds of wet smacking and lips separating to reconnect with more greed than before muffling your ears as he breathed heavily through his nose, his eyebrows pinched together in pent up everything as he finally had you with him after months of you avoiding him.
and then you pulled away with a wet pop.
“i—i’m sorry!” you covered your mouth. “i didn’t mean to kiss you!—”
what?
megumi’s eyebrows furrowed, both of your chests heaving as his cheeks and lips were blushed red.
he shook his head, “no i kissed you—”
“don’t cover for me gumiii,” your shoulders slumped, your brain so in denial that he could ever like you back that it tricked you into thinking you were the one kissing and all over him. “fuck i’m sorry… that was so disrespectful and— and weird of me and i—”
megumi’s hands slipped away from your body and he shook his head, his eyes dead locked on yours with his eyebrows pinched together. “y/n no you’re not understanding—”
“i’m the biggest creep on the planet man i understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me again—” you covered your face and leaned forward.
megumi stared at you astonishingly as he listened to you ramble apologies and dramatic insults for yourself continuously, his shoulders slowly relaxing and his lips turning into a soft knowing smile, your random speech starting to make absolutely no sense at all and his heart aching at the fact of how naive you were.
“y/n.”
you stopped. “what.”
he reached over and pulled your hands away from your face. “you’re helpless, you know that?”
“helpless and a creep.”
he laughed and shook his head. “stop it.”
he stood and offered his hand out for you.
“it’s getting late, i’m driving you home.”
megumi decided he would properly speak to you about it the next time he saw you… except he didn’t.
you started avoiding him like the plague again, horrendously horrified about what you believed you had done, thinking that it was better if you stayed away from him and fulfilled your initial task of forgetting him, no matter how much it hurt you.
you didn’t want megumi to ever be uncomfortable or experience what you believed he experienced with you. he didn’t deserve that. he didn’t deserve a pathetic little fan girl that never left him alone and hindered his work on the field, even though you wished so badly you could see him again, as the taste of his lips and mouth never left your fuzzy mind.
you kissed megumi fushiguro.
“oh my god y/n, you’re so stupid.”
“no i’m not! do you really believe megumi could ever like me back? no! absolutely not. i kissed him and i fucked up and that’s it. i’m staying away from him.”
your best friend ran her fingers through her hair and almost tore a chunk out in frustration. “it sounds like he kissed you! he had his hand on your thigh—”
“that was for stability! he—”
“no it was to feel you up!”
you shook your head side to side with your arms crossed. “nope nope nope nope—”
“y/nnnn!”
as for megumi, the next game he had he looked for you while on the field like he always did, looking forward to seeing your precious face and giving you a little wave… except he couldn’t find you. after the game, he went around the stadium and towards the locker room, inside and back out, the parking lot, his parking lot—
and he couldn’t find you.
this went on for a full three weeks of game after game nearly every day him doing the same exact thing— him getting increasingly more confused and a bit upset at your disappearance, going as far as to staying hours after his games still in his sweaty baseball uniform and cap with hopes that you’ll turn up.
except you never did.
and at the end of the third week, he had had enough.
“oh hey megumi!” your best friend greeted him, her hand fixing around yuji’s hair in the locker room after a game.
“hi.”
he stood there and said nothing, and your best friend eyed him skeptically. “…yes?”
megumi shifted awkwardly. “have you um… have you seen y/n?”
she sucked in a breath. “uh yeah. i saw her this morning.”
“this morning?” his eyes narrowed. “is she okay? why hasn’t she been coming to our games with you?”
“because—” she stammered. “well because—”
“is it our place to say?” yuji muttered.
“is it our place to know?” she whispered back harshly.
“i don’t know!”
“let’s just tell him!”
“but what if!—”
megumi rolled his eyes and huffed. “nevermind. please tell her to come tomorrow, i need to talk to her.”
your best friend gulped and nodded, both her and yuji watching the way he walked away and snatched his cap off, throwing it inside his locker and slamming it shut with his foot before picking up his duffel bag and leaving, not even bothering to change out of his dirt covered uniform.
“i’ve never seen him so stressed,” yuji commented.
“it’s because he likes her and she’s being an idiot…” your best friend sighed sadly.
so when she came to you the next day and told you megumi needed to speak to you, she amplified how upset he was to get you to feel bad and feel the urgent need to come to the game tonight, which you of course did.
and you were worried. so so worried and scared that he was finally going to tell you off for kissing him, to tell you that you sucked and that he never ever wanted to see you again in his life and that you were a disgusting human being—
but the roar of the crowd pulled you from your thoughts, the team winning once again as many began to pack their things and take their leave. you were completely and utterly shitting yourself, petrified and already heartbroken over the fact that megumi was officially going to cut you off as a friend when you hadn’t even had the chance to try and win him over yet.
and the way he played on the field tonight was way more aggressive than normal. he was louder, meaner, and didn’t take his eyes away from the ball or his opponents as he nearly got into a fight with another player, yuji and a few others needing to pull megumi apart and set him aside to cool off— the cameras and reporters having a field day in regards to him.
and that bothered you like nothing else. why the hell were they so excited over him getting angry? to amplify the brand that he upholds as the teams meanest player? as if they’ve never had a bad day a day in their lives? what was the point?
and it was all because of you, you realized.
you made him upset.
you covered your face with your hands and groaned, feeling like you wanted to cry.
“y/n…” your best friend patted your back. “it’ll be fine… he just needs to talk to you! you don’t even know what it’s about.”
“i can take a wild guess.”
she looked at you worriedly before picking up her things. “whenever you’re ready babe… i think he’s in the locker rooms by now.”
she left you there to gather yourself, and you sat there for a couple of more minutes before finally getting up and making your way to the locker rooms.
most of the fans had cleared out by now, and the sun was beginning to set as you passed and squeezed through crew members and news reporters, gnawing at your bottom lip as you turned a corner and spotted the locker room, many of the players already leaving.
just as you had reached your hand up to open the door, a firm voice called out to you.
“y/n.”
you froze, retracting your hand as you turned to look.
megumi stood there at the end of the hall, his baseball uniform still on and his cap dangling from his belt loop, hands in tight fists with his chest rising and falling, an agitated look on his face that you had never seen before.
“h—hi-”
“are you trying to forget me? is that what’s going on?”
your eyebrows furrowed.
“what?”
megumi took stride full steps towards you. “you finally talk to me, you confess to me, you disappear for a month, i wait for you, you finally show up at the banquet looking like the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my fucking life—”
he stopped in front of you. “takuma tries to steal you from me, i get pissed off, i fall for you at the park, i kiss you—“ he threw his arms up. “and you disappear again!”
your eyes bulge out of their sockets.
fall?
“you what?—”
“so i’m asking you again,” megumi bent his knees to look at you at eye level, his hands coming up to cup your pink cheeks and his face so close to yours you can make out the exact color of his eyes.
“are you trying to forget me? like you said you would?”
you fidgeted.
“i— i was doing it for you—”
“why for me? i never said—”
the feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was making your heart do backflips and trick shots as your wide doe eyes looked at him.
“because when i kissed you i made you uncomfortable and i don’t ever want you to be so i thought it’d be best if i left you alone—”
“okay let’s fix that right now,” his hands tightened slightly around your cheeks and he readjusted his footing, knees still bent. “i kissed you. if anything i should be the one worried if i made you uncomfortable because i put my hand on your thigh like that and for that i’m sorry.”
“no but—”
“yes y/n. i kissed you because you’re polite and you’re sweet and you’re funny, and you don’t see me as rude like everybody else does. and even though you’re naive and helpless sometimes, i like that you are. i like you.”
“but you’re megumi fushiguro…” you squeaked.
“so?”
“and i’m a loser.”
he laughed so cutely and shook his head, his pearly whites fully shining at you so big that it took you back to the first time he smiled in front of you.
“no you’re not you big dummy.”
he let go of your cheeks and placed his palms flat against the brick wall behind you, cornering you in as he let his head hang low, the top of his spiky black hair the only thing in your line of vision.
“i don’t know how else i can make you see…”
he sounded so exhausted, and your heart clenched.
“was it—” you timidly placed your hands on his shoulders. “was it actually you that kissed me?”
he nodded, head still hung.
“and do you actually like me? like— like more than a friend…”
“way fucking more,” he mumbled.
you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain yourself from screaming.
you couldn’t believe it. the megumi fushiguro, number eighteen, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen and the kindest one you’ve ever met… liked you.
“i could’ve sworn i kissed you..” you spoke softly, trailing off.
“you didn’t.” his voice was firm. “i kissed you and i put my hand up your thigh…” his forehead lifted to rest on the crook of your neck as he sighed a deep breath.
“i told— i told takuma to scram at the banquet because i got jealous that you were talking to him more than me. i saw you crying in the hall that first time we spoke and i recognized you and i went up to you because finally—”
he picked his head up slowly, eyes serious. “finally, you noticed me.”
he was so close that your nose brushed gently with his.
“you’re so dense y/n…”
megumi’s eyes flickered to your lips, “i’ve wanted you since the party.”
“the party?” you murmured.
he nodded. “the party where your friend first met yuji.”
your breath hitched as you felt his hands slide down the wall and snake over your hips, holding you tightly against him as the shock of his words made your body numb and tingly.
since the party?
it all seemed to click into place then, every single moment megumi tried to get you to look at him, to talk to him, in his own discreet way that you were completely oblivious to. and you were so fucking caught up in this fog of denial, that a person like megumi could never be interested in a person like you, that it made you push him away for the longest time without even giving yourself a chance.
you were so fucking stupid.
your arms slowly wrapped around his broad shoulders, the rough feeling of his baseball uniform underneath your fingertips and arms as you pressed your nose up against his shoulder shyly, feeling so incredibly bad for avoiding megumi for so long.
“i’m sorry…” you mumbled. “i’m sorry i was so oblivious gumi.”
you felt him shake his head from the crook of your neck silently, the vibration of his heart beating rapidly against you making you sweat and melt at the same time.
“don’t be.”
“i just—” you struggled. “i just thought you didn’t like me like i liked you and i wanted to respect your space…”
“i understand,” he muttered. “but i don’t want you to respect my space anymore.”
you held him tighter.
“and—” your voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder.
“hm?”
“i liked it when you put your hand on my thigh…”
megumi stilled, you playing the night he kissed you over and over in your head again like you’ve done since it happened— the thought making you nervous and timid.
he gripped you tighter.
“did you?”
you nodded, “mhm.”
megumi without parting from you, slipped a hand under your shirt and soothed his fingers over the bare skin of your torso, your breathing stuttering, his rough hand radiating warmth.
“what else do you like.”
you gripped the fabric of his uniform.
“i like… i like the way you kissed me. and how you touch me… like right now.”
your voice was so so soft, practically a whisper as he seemed to shiver under your words, wanting more.
“what else.”
“you,” you mumbled. “your body… your hair… your face… your hands… the way you talk to people.”
“you want me?” he murmured breathlessly.
“more than anything.”
“what else do you like?”
you leaned your head back a little and pressed your lips to his ear. “the way you play ball.”
he hummed, “you like the way i play baby?”
you nodded, your heart hammering.
he lifted his face from the crook of your neck and shamelessly pressed his lips to your cheek, murmuring.
“you wanna see what else i can do?”
“what— what else?”
megumi’s face remained pressed against your cheek as he let both of his hands now snake underneath your shirt and upwards, slowly but roughly groping the cup of your tits over your bra, feeling you up as you gasped.
“uh huh..” he pressed an open mouthed wet kiss to your pink fuzzy cheek. “‘cause i can do a lot more than just be your cool baseball man.”
he roughly spun you around and pushed you up against the wall, his hands coming back up to your breasts to grope you as he shoved and rubbed his hardened clothed dick against your perky ass, your tiny skirt riding up and revealing your pretty pink panties that made him absolutely feral.
“gumi!” you gasped. “s—someone could see—”
“i don’t fucking care.”
megumi buried his nose further into the back of your neck and your hair, him being a little pervert in the most delicious and intoxicating way possible.
he dragged his mouth up against your skin and latched on to the nape of your neck, sucking and biting sloppily against it as he marked you aggressively, no doubt in your mind that a purple bruise would follow soon after as his hands slipped under your bra now, pinching your hard nipples meanly and laughing when you jumped.
you moaned and whined against the wall, your body trembling as you felt your slick arousal slip from your hole and dampen your panties, choked up embarrassment coating your face as he shoved his fingers down your skirt without warning.
“you’re soaked baby…” he whispered. “and all because i grabbed your tits?”
“megumiii…” you whined, and you squeaked as he quickly slipped his fingers in between your pussy lips and pinched your clit.
“gumi,” he corrected. “fix it.”
“g—gumi—”
“good, pretty baby...” he praised, his dick rock fucking solid against your ass at the way his fingers slipped and slid in between your lower lips without much effort, both of your chests heaving and panting as your brains frazzled erotically.
the sounds of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and you both immediately froze, a gasp slipping past your lips before megumi quickly covered your mouth with the same hand that was just fingering you.
“shh.” he kissed the back of your head.
if anyone were to walk in and see the sight before them— megumi with his crotch pressed up against your ass, a hand pushing your top and bra up, squeezing your bare puffy tit and the other covering your mouth?
they’d drop dead.
without another moment wasted, megumi uncovered your mouth and turned you around, his tongue darting out and licking the patch of wet on your cheek from his fingers before shoving them in his mouth, sucking up your left over juice as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder.
megumi was freaky.
your eyes widened as he walked to the double doors of the locker room and kicked it open with his foot, turning around to lock them shut before walking to a corner and setting you down gently on a bench, his palms flat beside you on the smooth wood as he towered over you.
“is— is everybody gone?”
“long gone.” he nibbled at your cheek.
“but— but what if someone wants to come in?—”
he pulled away and got down on his knees. “i’ll tell them to fuck off.”
you panted as he pressed his hands against your thighs and squeezed, spreading them apart slowly with his eyes trained to your drenched cute pink panties.
he slid his hands underneath your thighs and lifted, bending you and pressing your knees closer to you as your back hit the lockers behind you, your hands gripping the bench for dear life.
“has anyone ever seen your pussy?” he gruffed, licking his lips.
you shook your head, embarrassed. “n—no.”
“has any other man touched you the way i’ve touched you?”
“m—maybe in high school?—”
megumi sunk his teeth into your inner thigh and bit you as you yelped.
“thought you liked me.”
“i do!” you sputtered.
“clearly not if you’re being a little whore and letting other filthy men on you.”
your hole clenched.
“that— that was before you!”
he stuck his tongue out and pressed it flat against your pussy covered panties, dragging it slowly and agonizingly up until the tip of his tongue passed and flicked up against your clit, the tip moving around and around your little nub as your thighs shook.
“doesn’t matter.” he let a string of drool fall from the corner of his lips and over your ruined underwear, your eyes fluttering as you felt his warm saliva ooze in between your lips.
“and what about takuma, hm?”
you tried to open your eyes. “ta—takuma?”
“mhm. he was all over you.”
you hiccuped as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties and pulled them down.
“i—”
“bet he wanted to do to you what i’m doing right now…” he hummed. “would you have let him?”
he stuffed his nose into your bare pussy and inhaled deeply, your jaw dropping as you squeezed your eyes shut.
your lack of response caused him to pull away and bite your thigh again, harder.
“would you?”
“n—no!” you shook your head quickly, strands of your hair lightly grazing your face. “i wouldn’t—”
“so who then?” he licked over his bite mark. “who would you spread your legs open for like this and let them see what a nasty fucking girl you are…”
“you gumi!” you hiccuped. “just you—”
“just me?”
megumi finally let his tongue slither itself in between your folds, slowly running over your flaps and clit as your hole continued to squelch out your arousal, pooling on the bench beneath you.
“y—yes!”
he slobbered and spit over your pussy like a starved dog, his face glistening like sugary glazed sweets.
“that’s what i fucking thought,” he hummed. “you gonna try and forget me again?”
“no!” you shook your head. “never! i can’t!”
he gripped your thighs tighter as he absolutely violated your folds then, wet sloshing and slurpings filling the air as he spat and shook his head side to side rapidly on your clit, you squealing and attempting to snap your thighs shut in response, his strong grip not letting you even if you tried.
“i—i can’t!” you cried. “gumi slow please it’s too much—”
“be a pretty baby and stop complaining.” he ran his slimy tongue over your pussy entirely before shoving it inside your hole.
you choked and clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, tears of ecstasy spilling from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut.
you whimpered and moaned and cried so pathetically, so cutely in his ears that he grinned as he pumped his tongue in and out of you filthily.
“you’re so fucking sweet—” he slapped your cunt and you jumped. “good thing i have a sweet tooth.”
your legs shook violently as you began to see stars, your tight hole clenching and sputtering around nothing as you felt your release approaching.
“gumi—” your hand flew back to the bench and you gripped it. “m’gonna cum! i’m— i’m gonna make a mess—”
megumi’s hand shot up and wrapped around one of your thighs so the tips of his fingers met your clit, his digits proceeding to rub and flick it as you climbed and reached your high, a high pitched scream echoing through the steamy locker room as your pussy leaked your sweet cum on his tongue.
you shuddered and jumped at the way he cleaned up your release and swallowed it, running his tongue soothingly over the bite marks on your thighs before coming back up and wiping his glistening face with his sleeve.
megumi leaned in and pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips, a complete turn around from the feral beast you had in between your legs— you kissing him back with just as much feel and affection.
he pulled back and got back up on his feet, you watching him ditzy as he jogged over to his locker and turned the lock until it clicked open, him rummaging inside for a little before he shut it and came back with a fresh pair of gray sweatpants.
“put these on baby,” he murmured.
you nodded sweetly and took them from him, you slipping off your skirt and pulling his sweatpants over as you watched him bend and look over corners.
“what are you looking for?” you asked softly.
he perked up then and stuck his hand under a bench, pulling out your wet ruined pink panties and holding them up high like a trophy.
“oh my god—” you covered your mouth in embarrassment. “give me those!”
“nope.” he shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it before stuffing your panties inside. “these are mine now.”
megumi came back up and wrapped his palm underneath your chin, tilting your face up softly before planting a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.
“and so are you.”
and that you were.
you went on many many dates with megumi after that, each and every single one so incredibly lovely and fun, a genuine connection you felt with him and each other that you had never ever felt before in your life, absolutely enamored by the way he gently treated you and made you feel like the only one that mattered in his life.
your best friend was obviously over the moon for you, squealing like a maniac at everything you told her, and always teased megumi about his lovesick face whenever you came to his games or appeared in the locker room to help him change, sort his clothes, or fix his hair.
“megumi…” she snickered. “your cheeks are a little red! are you like— sick?”
he scowled at her and turned the other way, wiping his sweaty forehead as he watched you bounce down the steps cutely and onto the field after one of his practices, a huge smile on your face that replicated on his.
the minute you jumped into his arms, he peppered your little cheeks with kisses as you giggled and ruffled his spiky hair, asking him how he felt about practice and other things after he set you down.
without anyone noticing, a journalist was on the field, and at the sight of megumi fushiguro’s beaming toothy smile as he watched you run to him, they quickly snapped a photo and published it.
one was a perfect portrait photo of his shining white smile (that later became his signature picture) and the other was a photo of his arms out for you as you ran, the both of them causing an absolute uproar that altered megumi’s image from that day forward.
megumi fushiguro was thought to be the meanest player on the team since the day he got signed.
but when he started taking more pictures with fans, kind of stopped offending the people around him, signed more autographs, and smiled occasionally at the paparazzi— all while your pretty self stood right next to him?
megumi fushiguro was sometimes the meanest player on the team.
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want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!
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ikeuverse · 1 month
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I HATE YOU — l.heeseung
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PAIRING: best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, smut  WC: 10.7k+
WARNINGS: lots of swearing, arguments, mention of drinking, parties. reports of sex scenes, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use caution and protection).
SYNOPSIS: you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.
NOTES: i think this story has been in my subconscious for so long, idk why it took me so long to write it. it smells a lot like heeseung to me, so nothing was more fitting than doing it for him. i hope you like it!
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The rule of life is clear when you have a best friend and she has an older brother. Either you fall in love with him, or you don't get along with him and you both hate each other. In your case, more specifically, the second option would fit like a perfect glove. It was like a combo in your background to be best friends with Dahyun, and hate Heeseung, her brother. Not that you'd do it alone, he contributed to every ounce of your body boiling with rage for him.
As if he had been born to unleash the purest feeling of rage in your heart just by entering the room and breathing. But it wasn't as if you nurtured that alone either. Heeseung had the same great anger towards you because, according to him, it was because of you that Dahyun stopped being the innocent little girl she was.
It wasn't a good excuse compared to the times he'd taken you seriously. Still, even so, Heeseung felt angry just being in your presence and knowing that you went to his house and he couldn't do anything but make you angry until he heard you swear at him or try to throw something in his direction. Dahyun was the balance bridge to try to maintain an ounce of harmony between the two of you while you were all together, although it was almost impossible to maintain a pleasant atmosphere whenever you and Heeseung were in the same environment. Which was practically all day long.
There wasn't a single moment when you could get rid of him or he of you, because unfortunately – or fortunately – you were Dahyun's best friend. You met her before you even knew that your best friend had a completely asshole brother. He swore that Dahyun having a friendship would be a quiet thing because she was never one to have many friends. Heeseung would be lying to say that he wasn't looking forward to meeting the first person his younger sister had befriended after entering university.
He just didn't expect you to be introduced to him when Dahyun had her first binge at the frat party, with you holding her hair and introducing yourself as her best friend.
So it's this crazy girl who's my sister's friend? Heeseung's anger may have started first, but you certainly felt it more intensely as the months went by.
Heeseung always found you with Dahyun at insane moments, like the pool party where you lent your best friend your most revealing bikini. That night you threw him into the pool because you two argued, but before you could regret it, he pulled you in with him, getting you wet before you could show off your hours of hard work to maintain the beautiful, wavy hair that took so long to make.
War had been declared, and at every party you and Heeseung attended, something always happened to emphasize how the two of you couldn't stay on the same radar and in the same environment for so long.
Not this last time.
The remnants of last night invaded your mind like a little dream, where you knew it was far from a fantasyland. Friday night was party day at some frat house or at some rich person's house who could afford to buy drinks for a bunch of horny, partying college kids. You and Dahyun always went together, because at the end of the night, you would sleep at her house. And of course that happened. You just didn't expect to be in another Lee's bed.
You took a deep breath after you realized what had happened, remembering the exact moment when you argued with Heeseung. Nothing new for the two of you. But that night something seemed different about the way you and he argued about absolutely everything, like the amount of drink he poured himself. Or how you had accepted a drink from a guy who had handed you a glass because he was going to play and didn't want to drink anymore, Heeseung had scolded you for being reckless and, even if you were, if that had made him angry, then you had done the right thing.
But why were his eyes dark and shiny when he cornered you in the kitchen to swear at you? And why did you lean too far towards him when he tried to take the glass from your hand? The reason was canonized at that moment, with you wrapped in Heeseung's sheets.
The memory of his lips pressing down hard on yours to shut you up, your body almost turning to porridge when he softened to kiss you properly. And why on earth did you give in? Why did you kiss him back looking like you needed it? Your mind knew you did, but never, under any circumstances, would the two of you say that that need was blatant and that you were both waiting for what had happened.
Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a weight slid around your waist. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You effortlessly felt Heeseung's chest pressing against your back. Your whole body stiffened for a few seconds but relaxed – without any explanation – when his hand rested on your stomach and his breath hit the back of your neck.
That breath you felt against your lips after he kissed you, as he whispered one last curse when he took you to his car and then brought you to his house. Heeseung's breath against your skin with every touch he made, with every kiss, sent shivers down your spine. You didn't want to think about the effects he had caused in just one night, while all those months later the only thing you felt for him was anger and disgust. But no, last night it was anything but that that you felt for each other.
You began to wonder how you were going to get out of there. Or worse, how you were going to bump into Dahyun and explain to her that, strangely enough, you had ended up in her brother's bed. It couldn't have been an accident because neither of you got drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, so what? What would you say when asked why you slept with Heeseung?
An involuntary sigh left your lips when he moved again, pressing you a little closer and nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling all your scent as if it were normal and he'd done it a million times before.
“It's not possible that you're actually doing this” your voice came out without thinking, not at all cordial or subtle as he continued to inhale your scent. You wanted to curse yourself even more as soon as you heard Heeseung's morning laugh. Rude, low, a real sin for your poor body that was processing everything that was still going on.
“What? I don't even get a good morning?” he asked in the same tone as the laugh and every word coming out of his mouth was truly a sin. You'd seen Heeseung after waking up countless times, but it wasn't as if you saw him seconds later as was happening now. Usually, it was a while later, his voice was normal at least, although his face was puffy from sleep and his hair slightly mussed. But it was nothing compared to what you were hearing at that moment.
“You're an idiot, you little shit” your hand went over his hand that was still on your stomach, trying to pull it away “I hate you, now let me go.”
As expected, Heeseung did the opposite of what you asked. Pulling you closer to him and, with the strength he was holding you with, he managed to turn you around and make your body face him.
“You hated moaning my name last night” he smiled with half-lidded eyes “Now why are you playing hard to get?” there was the Heeseung you remembered hating, even though he was so hot in a sleepy, lazy way. You held back with your hands to pull his face in and kiss him, messing up his hair even more and getting lost in those lips that were claimed as yours last night.
“Because—” your voice died right there, you had no answer to that. You didn't know why you were playing hard to get after having slept with him of your own free will.
The victorious smile on Heeseung's lips made you slap his chest, feeling the skin beneath your fingers. Remembering how you touched him and how he felt every shiver go through him every time your fingers slid across him and interspersed with your nails. Heeseung knew that some part of his body was marked by you, but he honestly didn't care.
Your eyes rolled down as soon as you noticed that he was shirtless, looking under the covers as much as you could. He wasn't wearing anything over it and didn't even seem to care about covering his chest when your eyes locked on the spot, your hands still gripping his chest ready to slap it again in case any silly jokes were made. But your face heated up when you noticed that, if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, you were wearing his.
Heeseung noticed the way you recorded it all, and although it was amusing, he remembered how hot you had looked after putting on his T-shirt to sleep. With nothing underneath, just his clothes covering the curves of your body that he touched, kissed, and marked. And he'd be a dead man if he confessed that he wanted to do it all over again.
“You didn't like wearing my shirt?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you “Just take it off, I remember you're not wearing anything underneath anyway.”
“I hate you!” you let out a shriek, hitting him in the chest again before pulling the covers off your body so you could get out of bed in search of your clothes.
“Right, if it makes you sleep better at night, then I hate you too” he muttered, rolling his body across the bed to lie where you had been seconds before. Secretly smelling your scent on his pillow, as you searched for your clothes on his bedroom floor at that moment.
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Hearing about the fine line between modern and contemporary art history was wonderful for you, one of your favorite classes. The grace with which the professor explained it so passionately, highlighting important points that you made a point of writing down in your notebook with a lilac-colored pen that Dahyun had lent you at the beginning of the class. It took up most of your thoughts from the moment you arrived on campus, taking your focus away from the fact that a few days ago you were lying on Heeseung's bed. And now you were sitting next to his sister sharing one of your classes.
Your thoughts traveled to another subject now… Did Dahyun know that you and Heeseung had had sex? It wouldn't be something to hide from your best friend, having heard from her a few times that the two of you had some kind of repressed hard-on. Of course, that made you and Heeseung even angrier, but it turned out to be true last weekend.
Dahyun was right, after all, and you didn't want her to be. Or did you?
“Y/n” she called your name in a whisper, making you turn your head to face her “The boys are waiting for us in the study room, do you want to go now or do you want to stop by for coffee?”
Back to the normal schedule where you would have to live with Heeseung and try to put aside what had happened between the two of you. Or at least try to. Carry on with your routine and chores and not pay attention to him like you always did.
Class ended and you felt your body dragging alongside Dahyun through the corridors to the campus cafeteria. It wasn't a long way, but dividing your energy between the class and the thoughts that flooded your mind had left you tired. The salted caramel coffee you always ordered might have some effect on your body right now.
And you were more than right.
After paying for the drink and some treats, the straw rolled around your lips as you sipped the drink that was your comfort. You could hear Dahyun's laughter every time the taste of coffee impregnated your tongue and you moaned with satisfaction. The whole way to the study room was filled with these moments that the two of you shared as you sipped your drinks and tried to balance the takeaway bags.
“Am I seeing a mirage or did you bring food?” Jay almost knelt to thank you and Dahyun when you entered the study room.
“Are you guys hungry or something?” she asked, stepping in front and placing the bag of food on the small table around some cushioned armchairs.
“Our class finished early and someone forgot to stop by the convenience store” Sunghoon sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face almost shoved into one of the bags to look for something that interested him. Finding a filled brownie, he took it without asking permission, even though he didn't need to.
“He's in over his head, isn't he?” Jake nudged Heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time since you and Dahyun arrived.
Looking at your best friend, you saw her sit down next to Jake as if it were something mechanized as if she had to be there without any kind of effort. It was cute how close the two of them always were. But your mind went into overdrive because as she sat next to him, the only seat left was next to Heeseung.
“What?” he asked, shaking his body at the slight shock Jake had caused him. Adjusting his posture in the armchair, Heeseung swallowed as soon as he felt a weight next to him, indicating that you had sat there.
“You forgot to stop by the convenience store to pick up some food” Jay grumbled “What are you thinking, man? You haven't answered us since you came to class today.”
Playing the misunderstood had been a mutual agreement with everyone in the room. They had seen you and Heeseung leave together, but if neither of you had mentioned anything, none of them would do it. Playing the game of not knowing anything about you and him was the best thing. At least until that moment.
“I'm just sleepy, don't fight me” Heeseung grumbled, stretching more than usual so that he could annoy you, as he had done ever since the two of you met. He could hear you taking a deep breath next to him, holding back a little so as not to swear at him before the study session even started.
Heeseung mentally thanked his friends for the lame excuse he'd given, because they all started to engage in side conversations as he slipped a glance in your direction. Your fingers held the coffee cup with a certain lightness, your thumb circling the cardboard that was possibly warm against his skin. Heeseung suppressed a smile, thinking about how your fingers had touched his body a few days ago.
He didn't want to think about anything involving the night you two had spent together, but even though it was recent, seeing you so close hit him hard. It was as if his mind betrayed him the very moment you sat down next to him and did the bare minimum to be noticed. There was no way Heeseung could think of anything other than you. The way you brought the cup to your lips and drank the coffee, for example. It made him think of your mouth kissing him, how easily your lips turned red as the kiss got more and more intense. How your mouth looked like the perfect shape of his cock when you wrapped it around you and sucked it, giving him the best blowjob of his life.
Fuck Heeseung, stop thinking about it. He told himself, or he'd get turned on just associating every single thing you did with the way he had you in his room, under his body, and in his bed.
The only way to make his thoughts go away and him not think like that was to irritate you, bring up the atmosphere of the argument you had with him, and thus get his friends to intervene and completely change the course of Heeseung's thoughts. And the way he thought was by taking the coffee cup from your hand, bringing it to his lips, and taking the last sip.
“Hey” you said loudly enough, trying not to shout because the study room was next to the university library “You ruined my coffee, you idiot.”
“I was thirsty, sorry” Heeseung pouted his lips, feeling the taste of salted caramel all over his tongue. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips to wipe away any coffee residue. He just didn't expect your attention to be on his mouth. Without hesitation, your eyes traced the path of his mouth and the way his tongue traced his lower lip. That sparked something inside Heeseung because it showed that you were thinking along the same lines as he was.
“You're a real idiot” you said quietly this time, trying to look away as Heeseung bit his lower lip.
He leaned in a little but didn't manage to get close enough to tease you because he felt the famous slap on the chest that you gave him when he said something stupid. Ever since that morning in his bed.
“Ouch, that hurt” he cringed, dodging the next slap you'd give him. For the first time, the dynamic between you and Heeseung was a little closer and more physical. Usually, the two of you didn't sit near each other or you couldn't get there in time to hit him, Jay or Sunghoon always managed to hold you back first.
“Hey, stop it, you two” Jake broke off from an interesting conversation he was having with Jay, sharing a packet of sweets with Sunghoon in the process.
“It's not like you guys had sex at the weekend” Dahyun yawned, throwing the full weight of her head on Jake's shoulder.
“What?” you and Heeseung shouted at the same time.
Their eyes widened, their breathing quickened and their faces heated up as they looked at the four of them sitting in front of them. So they knew, but how? You and he had tried to be discreet the whole time, and you hadn't said anything to Dahyun, considering Heeseung's astonishment, showing that he hadn't said anything to his friends either.
“Come on, we saw you two leaving the party together” Jay sighed “We agreed not to say anything until one of you spoke.”
“But you're still fighting” Jake pouted.
“By the way” Dahyun squeezed the cup between her fingers, the coffee long since finished and she just needed something to munch on while she talked to Jake “I could hear you two when we got home” she looked at Jake for a few seconds, then at you and Heeseung. They exchanged frightened, embarrassed glances.
A hole could be dug right there that you wanted to bury yourself in and never get out of. There was no escaping it and no escape from your friends' looks and playful smiles. There was also no way you could face Heeseung after everything you'd heard, so your only way out was to make an excuse that you needed to go to the library to get a book to start studying. You left the room as quickly as you could and entered the door at the end of the corridor.
At least it was quiet there and you wouldn't hear any of your friends talking about you and Heeseung having sex, or about how they knew all along and didn't tell either of you. It hadn't been long since it happened, but you'd been with Dahyun all morning and Heeseung had probably spent a lot of it with some of the boys he shared a class with. So they waited for you to give them a break to say it out loud?
“Holy shit” you whispered to yourself, leaning on one of the shelves in a vast aisle of encyclopedias. Nothing there was of interest to you and you didn't necessarily need any of those books, but it had been the first aisle you'd found to enter and browse the various shelves in search of clearing your mind.
“It really is shit” the voice settled in your ears and went straight to your skin, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race. Your heartbeat accelerated more than usual when you turned around and noticed Heeseung just a few steps away.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!” you whispered at him, turning to one of the shelves to pick up any stupid books. If you'd never read encyclopedias before, that day could be your first. Then you'd be too busy reading and not paying attention to the boy who was slowly approaching you.
“I had to leave too, I couldn't stand that embarrassment alone” he said in the same tone as yours, stopping right behind you as he noticed your feat in trying to open a heavy book that had nothing to do with the classes you were attending “Besides, I came to tease you for being too scandalous” Heeseung's breath hitched against your ear, his lips almost kissing your skin.
You turned sharply, the book wobbling in your hands from the weight of it and the force with which you turned. But your reflexes were good enough to hold it steady while you stared at it.
“Me? Scandalous?” your indignation was palpable, along with your anger that was beginning to grow inside your chest at him and the arrogant smile he had “What do you mean?”
“That you moaned so loudly that my sister heard!”
“Motherfucker” you almost forgot you were in the library, wanting to scream in his face and curse him with every swear word you could think of “I didn't moan that loud.”
“Yes, you did” he said.
“No, I didn't” you answered back, not realizing that you had taken a step forward and leaned your body against his. Heeseung took the opportunity to take the book from your hands, the weight shifting to his arms as he put it back on the shelf. Now having full access to you and your body in front of him.
He knew you hadn't moaned out loud, not least because he managed to shut you up every time. Making you moan against his mouth or listening closely when your mouth was close to his ear, having the most beautiful moan Heeseung had ever heard in his entire life.
“On a scale of zero to ten, if I say you moan scandalously…” Heeseung began, his speech somewhat meek “How angry will you be?”
“Ten, obviously” you hadn't even hesitated to answer, regretting it the second he smiled.
“So you moan too scandalously” such a simple sentence, but one that practically tore away the last bit of calm you had with Heeseung. Not that it ever really existed, but at least you tried inside the library.
As if it was the right thing to do, you raised your hand to hit him as you had been doing so often in the last few moments, but he acted quickly. So fast that neither of you could process it. Heeseung's long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your waist to press you down and give you no chance to escape. The warmth of his fingers against your skin made you hold your breath and close your eyes, almost like a memory of what was about to happen.
It was the perfect cue for Heeseung to lean towards you and touch the tip of his nose to yours. His breaths mingled and his eyes closed to revel in the sensation of being so close to you again.
He wanted to touch your mouth, kiss you, and be able to leave with you. To remember the softness of your lips and how perfectly your mouths fit together as if the two of you had learned everything from each other. Even though the two of you shared hurried, slow kisses, none of them were disproportionate or out of rhythm. You and Heeseung managed to find harmony and synchronicity in every movement.
“Oh, shit” Jay's voice made you and Heeseung break apart quickly, startled by the closeness and realizing that if the brunette hadn't arrived, you and he would have kissed right then “Sorry, I—”
“You owe me lunch for a week” Dahyun appeared beside him, smiling openly as her eyes landed on you and Heeseung. He didn't need to look at you to know that you also shared a confused, albeit frightened, expression as to why Jay and his sister were there in the library.
“What did you two bet?” Heeseung asked the dreaded question, opening and closing his fists and holding back the urge to touch you again, even if it was in front of the two who were still there.
“That you and Y/n would be kissing” Jay said “But the two of them never actually kissed, so I don't owe you anything.”
“Yes, you do!” Dahyun protested, pushing Jay out of the hallway and leaving you and Heeseung completely unresponsive.
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It would have been a smart idea to avoid going to any parties after what happened, in case you both regretted it. But that wasn't exactly it.
As the week went by, the teasing between Heeseung and you continued with a little more intensity, adding to the spice of what had happened between you, and now things had become a little more physical. Like him having to get too close to you and touch your hair after getting on your nerves, or how your hand wrapped around his arm – unnecessarily – so you could avoid Heeseung when he was near the kitchen counter teasing you before you left and went to his sister's room.
Things were getting heated and neither of you made any move to actually stop or that it wasn't affecting you anymore, quite the opposite. As the touching persisted or you paid too much attention to each other's actions, things got more and more complicated.
That was why Heeseung now found himself with a red glass in his hand, bringing it to his lips and feeling the bitter taste of alcohol go down his throat. He could have refused to go to that party after Sunghoon insisted, with the excuse that the class had been terrible. Even though he had slept through most of it. At least they were at Yeonjun's parent's house, the rich boy and Jake's friend who always gave up his house when the fraternities hadn't recovered after a few parties over a short period.
At least there was somewhere to sit, a room without too many people and the music wasn't too loud. The pool room that the boys usually went to when they wanted to escape the crowds, but didn't want to leave the party completely.
“Man, I love it when we’re here” Yeonjun sighed, sitting across from Heeseung and next to Jay “I wanted to run away from Stacy all night.”
“Is she annoying you?” Jay held back a laugh.
Talking about girls was the main topic when Yeonjun was around, and it wasn’t such a bad thing. Sharing experiences and even talking about how their current relationships were going, just as Jake made a point of praising Dahyun and how the two of them were getting along better and better. At some point in the conversation, Heeseung didn’t even bother to share anything, feeling shy for the first time. You had been the last girl he slept with, and talking about it, about the intimacy you two shared made him embarrassed. It wasn’t that he would brag every time he got with someone, on the contrary, the poor boy was the most teased because he rarely kissed a unit on the mouth at a party.
Maybe it was his chance to say that he had finally kissed someone after so long. But he wanted to keep it all to himself as if he felt jealous of sharing every detail about you.
“And you, Heeseung” Yeonjun called him as if he could read his thoughts. “Did you finally have sex?”
Sunghoon choked on his half-drunk drink, biting the plastic cup as he looked at his friend and noticed the shocked expression on his face. Yeonjun didn’t know anything about what had happened, especially since he wasn’t that close to you and Dahyun. He knew you two by sight and exchanged a few words because you were always around, but it’s not like he knew everything about you.
“He definitely had sex” Jake bit his lips to keep from smiling “Guess who?”
There wasn’t a single name that crossed Yeonjun’s mind, it was so difficult to associate Heeseung with anyone. Just like they associated Jake with Dahyun or Yeonjun with Stacy. Heeseung didn't have anyone on his radar, and the boys didn't know which girl had ever mentioned his name as a possible sexual companion.
A short period of silence fell over the room, and Jay's impatience quickly cut through.
"Y/n" he said.
“What?” it was Yeonjun’s turn to almost choke on his drink when he decided to take a sip of his beer. “Don’t you two, like, hate each other more than anything in the universe?”
I thought so, Heeseung had that answer on the tip of his tongue, almost wanting to say it out loud.
“So our dear Lee has a powerful dick” Yeonjun joked.
“Dude, we can ask Y/n if he has a small dick or not” Jay suggested.
“That’s cute, we’re finally going to know about his dick” Jake faked a cute voice, pouting and everything to get in on the joke.
“I don’t have a small dick, you idiots” Heeseung wanted to sound angry, although that joke was always there. Talking like that or about sexual performance with some girl… It would be disgusting if it was a conversation that happened often, but it wasn’t. It was just at times when they all wanted to escape from everything, to be in a universe where only boys existed and they could talk about anything.
A laugh filled the room before Heeseung or any of the boys could respond. Turning to the door, there you were. Standing with your hand on the doorknob and the other holding the plastic cup.
“Y/n!” Jay called out to you excitedly.
“Hey Y/n, is it true that Heeseung—” Yeonjun was interrupted by a flying plastic cup, hitting him in the chest as Heeseung threw it.
You had heard the entire conversation before entering the wrong room, looking for a bathroom to pee in. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing how relaxed and happy the boys were, far from those people you were starting to get bored with.
“Wrong door, sorry, boys” you waved and smiled at all of them, stopping your eyes on Heeseung for a long moment. Analyzing every inch of his body. Every piece of clothing adorned that man’s curves very well. Wide pants, white tank top, and leather jacket. A cardinal sin was that his hair was slicked back and the silver chain showing well above the collar of the tank top he was wearing. Luckily for you, the music was loud enough that no one could hear the force with which you swallowed when you noticed Heeseung’s collarbone was more exposed than usual. Waving to all of them, you closed the door as quickly as you opened it.
He tried to process what had just happened. Did your laughter indicate that you had heard the conversation, giving the boys room to think that he had a small dick? It wasn't possible… Heeseung couldn't believe it, even though it was true as he started to hear his friends making fun of your reaction.
If she laughed, it was because she agreed.
Does he really have a small dick?
Shit, Heeseung, she's teasing you.
He didn't want to hear anything from his friends anymore, the small flame of anger consuming him for teasing him like that in front of his friends. It wouldn't stay like this. Heeseung wouldn't let you get away with it, just like you almost didn't let him get away with it on library day.
Without time for goodbyes or small talk, Heeseung left the room in a hurry, opening the door and closing it without giving time for protests or for any of the boys to follow him. Now, in the middle of the small crowd in the hallway, he dodged some dancing and sweaty bodies, looking everywhere in search of you or his sister who, perhaps, could know where you were. Heeseung had a small spark of hope that he could find you before you went somewhere he couldn't find anymore. Or worse, that you started to feel tired and drunk enough to want to leave.
Running down the stairs, he reached the ground floor in record time, even with some people getting in his way. Heeseung walked from one room to the other, his eyes increasingly attentive to the people, scanning the place until he finally found you. Standing at one end of the table with glasses piled up in front of you, while his sister was at the other end with a few more girls.
“My turn to play,” one of them said, excited enough to grab the ball and throw it before it fell into one of the cups. She and Dahyun celebrated that you would have to drink, and from the look on your face, it wasn’t that good.
Heeseung took hurried steps towards the table, watching you take the ball out of the cup and drink all the contents inside.
“How disgusting” you stuck your tongue out, making a fake vomit sound before discarding the empty cup right next to you. “Now it’s my turn” but your turn didn’t come. Before you could even throw the ball into one of the cups in front of Dahyun and the other girl, Heeseung grabbed your arm and slid his fingers through your hand until he took the ball out. “What the fuck—”
“I need to talk to you” he said.
“Oh, that’s our girl, finally Y/n!” you wanted to ignore those comments, especially because Heeseung’s eyes were so intense and focused only on you. He didn’t care that the girls were joking about that situation, or how Dahyun was saying some teasing things in a playful tone. As if his gaze was capable of erasing everything around him and leaving only the two of you in the center of everything.
“Heeseung.”
“I said I need to talk to you, let’s go” he threw the ball to Dahyun, grabbing your arm again to get you out of there as quickly as possible.
Strangely you didn’t protest, just accepting the boy in front of you leading the way out of the party and through the front door. The air that hit your skin almost made you shiver, but Heeseung’s touch was capable of warming everything in your body without giving you a chance to feel the cold outside environment.
He stopped walking as soon as the two of you passed through the entire front yard, the sidewalk almost devoid of anyone around. Everyone was lying on the lawn or the porch, except for the excessive amount that was already inside Yeonjun's parents' huge house.
“What do you need to talk to me about?” you finally asked, letting your voice be heard by Heeseung after a while of silence between the two of you. He then let go of your arm, turning towards you to face you. Looking around a little, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be interrupted or, worse still, that someone would hear your conversation. People had a slight impression that you and Heeseung always argued, but the only ones who listened attentively to this were your friends and his sister. Heeseung didn't want anyone else to know about these little details.
“You heard the boys’ conversation upstairs, didn’t you?” he asked you. His tone was usually serious, but with a hint of anger that was always directed at you.
“Wanting to know if you have a small dick? Yeah, I heard you” you laughed a little, regretting it the second Heeseung approached you. His eyes were glazed over anywhere on your face, at least you knew where he was looking. His chest rose and fell in a rapid breath as he leaned in enough to be able to look you in the eyes without losing your attention.
“Do you find this funny, Y/n?” his low tone of voice never had any effect on you, on the contrary, it always instigated you even more to tease him. Smiling now and then, pushing Heeseung’s buttons when he seemed mad at you. But this time it was different, his voice seemed to fade away as he said things to you that way. The look still in your eyes, now falling to your lips “So you think I have a small dick?”
“I didn’t say anything about that—” you were quickly interrupted.
“Answer my question” he said “Do you think I have a small dick?” Heeseung’s hand touched your waist, pressing his fingers tightly against the spot before pulling you against his body.
You swallowed any sound that could come out of your lips so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on you. Your pride spoke louder at least at that moment.
Thinking of all the possibilities that could answer his question, something popped into your mind. The instinct of rivalry and fight between the two of you couldn’t end so soon, and you knew that a remnant of the old Y/n that started all this with Heeseung still lived inside you. So you did the right thing by whispering those words.
“On ​​a scale of zero to ten, how angry will you be if I say yes?”
Heeseung felt like an idiot for letting a smile appear on his lips so easily, especially because of you.
“We’re going home right now, tell my sister to go with Jake” he said, not taking his hands off your waist until he took you to the car and they left that party.
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You were both experiencing a little deja vu from the first night you were together, but something at that moment seemed to be a little slower. You arrived at the apartment without much of a rush because Heeseung drove carefully; the city streets at that time were not a safe place to speed, even if he was in a hurry. The silence in the building's elevator was not uncomfortable, much less the rustling of the keys when he opened the apartment door.
The path to his room was led by him, with dragging and slightly nervous steps – which you didn't notice and he was grateful – because you were equally nervous. The last time you made this path, you were in Heeseung's arms and with your mouth glued to his. Shy giggles and messy words were said as the two of you tried to balance each other until you entered his room.
When you entered the room again, the smell of Heeseung's cologne was still in the air. The same smell he had all over his clothes and inside the car, showing that when he had put on perfume a few hours before going to the party, the smell still lingered in the air. Your eyes searched around in search of some recognition, mentally cursing yourself for remembering practically everything. The shelf with trophies he had won, video games stacked perfectly next to each other, some dolls and superheroes. Nerd stuff that you had played with him for so long outside of that environment, but being in Heeseung's personal space and taking a good look at it was something new for you.
At that moment your thoughts flew to the boy in front of you who, delicately, wrapped his hands around your waist this time. The tender touch was a total opposite of what the two of you had been having lately, about everything that involved you and him. Heeseung pulled you closer, his forehead slowly touching yours, while one of his hands left your waist to touch your face. The touch of his fingers against your skin immediately made you close your eyes.
“Do you miss being here?” he asked in a playful tone, but the softness of that question made you wonder if you really missed being there. Even though it was the second time you had stepped into Heeseung's room under those circumstances.
“You're the one who misses having me here” you teased.
“Maybe so” he shrugged, smiling when you seemed surprised by his sudden confession, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. Shy enough not to be able to look at Heeseung while he was still caressing your face.
You had both consumed a little more alcohol than the last time you did this, but still, neither of you managed to get to the point of getting drunk. There was no way you could tell him that you drank too much at the games with Dahyun and the girls, and much less could Heeseung use the excuse that he was drunk with the boys. Again, you were both in that situation because you wanted to be.
“Y/n” he whispered your name, taking you out of the little trance where you could only hear your calm breathing and your heartbeats against each other due to the proximity of your body to his.
“Yeah” you answered.
“Can I kiss you again?” the first time he didn’t ask for permission in that scenario, Heeseung’s lips were simply against yours. But now, there inside his room, everything seemed different. All the tenderness and calm that you were strangely enjoying, while he didn't know exactly why he was caressing you so lovingly and asking permission for something he had already done.
“Yes, please” your answer surprised him more than it surprised you. You even said please, something that had never happened to him. Usually the only thank you you gave Heeseung or the only word of cordiality you said to each other was the famous good morning, and when Dahyun still insisted on the two of you.
Finally, Heeseung's lips pressed against yours, the soft touch of his mouth sliding over yours before he opened his mouth and urged you to do the same. Heeseung's chin slowly pressed against yours to keep your mouth open and enter his tongue into your cave, searching for your tongue and intertwining the two gently.
Although there was urgency in each touch, in how he wanted to kiss you and how you wanted to be kissed by him, something unsaid – but understood – was that you both wanted to enjoy that strangely pleasurable moment for both of you. Your hands went up to make contact with the collar of the jacket he wore, running your thin fingers under the leather before grabbing Heeseung's shoulders. Your skin against his made him sigh during the kiss, bringing you closer and walking with you towards the bed. Stopping only when his calf touched the wood indicating that he had reached where he wanted.
He was the first to stop kissing you, placing small kisses on your chin until he reached your jaw, where he lightly scraped his teeth and smiled when he saw the skin on your neck start to get goosebumps. You didn't want to be left behind, so your hands forced themselves on his shoulders to loosen his jacket and make it fall halfway down his arms. Heeseung grew impatient with that piece of cloth and soon got rid of the jacket, not bothering to throw it on the bedroom floor, wrapping his arms around your body again.
Heeseung returned with his lips against your skin, brushing whenever he could on every little spot before alternating with the tip of his tongue a short path down to below your ear. His breath so close was enough to make you go a little crazy more.
“We can—”
“We can do whatever you want” he told you, kissing the spot below your ear and returning to position his face aligned with yours. Foreheads together and feeling her breath hit his lips “Tell me and I will do it.”
It was your turn to kiss Heeseung, your hands holding his face to keep him close while his tongue wrapped around yours again. The perfect fit of your mouths and how the two of you, despite your need, didn't let go and didn't make a mess of it. Yet.
Heeseung picked you up just to lay you down on his bed, snuggling his body between your legs without taking his mouth off yours. He pulled away momentarily to breathe before kissing you again with even more desire. At that point you felt like you needed him even more, your legs wrapping around Heeseung's hips who, you could tell, was holding back from making any risky moves. Even though you both wanted that. But it was impossible to hold back any longer because of the way the kiss started to get sloppy and lazy. You didn't know that you could get even more excited by the way Heeseung's tongue moved against yours or how the softness of his lips remained even after you abused them for so long.
Involuntarily your hips rocked, feeling Heeseung's erection rub against your clothed pussy, making you both moan in sync.
“Fuck” he moaned into your mouth, swallowing another moan of yours as he pressed his hips against you so you could feel a little more of his cock.
“Heeseung” your hands ran down his arms, your nails making a reddish path against his skin as you marked him.
“Are you going to moan loudly now?” he teased, lifting his head to look at you. It would be typical of Lee Heeseung to comment on that while he had a hard-on and was between your legs, you should have imagined that.
“I think you need to keep your mouth busy and stop talking shit” you rolled your eyes at him, holding yourself back so that your arousal wouldn't turn into anger and you would hit the boy.
“Your wish is my command, ma'am” Heeseung smiled so seductively that you asked yourself countless questions at that moment.
As he slid down your body, taking off each piece of your clothing without your protest, you wondered. Heeseung always smiled mischievously at you, although the effects were always the opposite of what was happening. Maybe the vulnerability in which you and he found each other at that moment made you with your senses heightened, paying a little more attention than necessary. Of course, you saw Heeseung up close, in his most intimate form, just as he saw you too. So that would be a good explanation for why you felt strange when he, at that moment, directed the smiles that you knew so well, at you.
Looking down at the exact second that Heeseung took off your panties, you noticed how lost in thought you were at that moment. Did he undress you so quickly or were you thinking too much about his smile to notice that now you were both naked? It didn’t matter, the job was done and now you fought against your racing heartbeat as Heeseung’s face lowered to be level with your pussy.
As if asking permission with a glance directed at your face, you nodded slowly as he adjusted himself between your legs and placed a kiss on your thigh. His lips tickled your skin before sliding down to your groin and finally finding your pussy.
“Heeseung— shit” you held back a moan between your lips as the tip of his tongue touched your clit. Swollen and in need of his full attention which he was more than willing to give.
Heeseung wrapped one hand around your thigh, bringing the other to your pussy to part your labia and spread all your wetness on his fingertips. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever see, but one he couldn’t stop seeing now. He needed to be in that position at least once a day, if possible. Heeseung’s fingers made their way across your pussy lips until they reached your hole, circling it before pushing in. He looked up, his face fucking gorgeous as you fought the urge to open your eyes.
He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck on your bundle of nerves at the same time his finger was inserted into your hole. The two sensations flooded you as you let out the most beautiful moan. It wasn't scandalous at all, on the contrary, it was low and sensual. A reminder of how Heeseung was making you feel with just a few seconds of giving your pussy proper attention.
Moving his finger inside you, he included another and the two began working in and out of your hole. The wet sound of his fingers fucking you along with the moans you were letting out made his cock throb. Heeseung felt himself getting harder and harder, aching and wanting to be inside you as soon as possible.
“Hee” you moaned that nickname that had been heard only a few times, but that was enough to make him want to hear it again. This seemed to motivate you a little more, because Heeseung inserted the third finger into your pussy and, leaning down again, he went back to kissing your clit and any other place his mouth could reach.
It seemed like the way he kissed your mouth, kissing your pussy so perfectly that you were going crazy. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling a few strands without having enough strength to pull them out. You focused as much as possible on how well Heeseung was fucking you and his fingers curling inside your warm walls. It was the second time you had sex, but it seemed like he knew every spot on your body and how you should be touched.
Heeseung felt your hole tighten against his fingers, licking your clit more slowly, although the intrusion of his fingers into your hole wasn't that slow. He smiled against your pussy, lifting his face from there and crawling until his face was flush with yours. His fingers didn't stop fucking you even though his mouth was far from your pussy.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked in a deep and hoarse whisper, making you open your eyes and almost actually cum at that moment. His chin was covered in saliva and your wetness, making Heeseung even hotter than he looked.
You nodded quickly to him, bringing one of your hands to Heeseung's chin and sliding your thumb over the spots on his skin to clean it. Any other time this would have been kind of cute, warming both of your hearts with the act. Although he appreciated your care even if he didn't mind having a little bit of you stuck to his chin.
“I want you to cum looking into my eyes” he whispered “Can you do that?”
You had no way of knowing if you were capable of it, especially when his fingers started fucking you again so slowly, but so intensely. He made sure to go all the way to his knuckles, rotating and scissoring inside you with precision. Wanting to feel your warm walls enveloping them as he penetrated you. A scream burst from your throat when his thumb touched your clit, where his lips had been minutes ago. You moved your hips to match the movements of his fingers and that made Heeseung almost go crazy.
Your hands went back to touching his hair, one of them going to the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours. Heeseung kissed you to share a little of your taste on his tongue, to show you how addictive you were not only to the kiss but to the taste of your pussy that he was already starting to get addicted to. This was starting to get too much for you, the way he moved his tongue around as he kissed you to muffle your moans and the way his fingers filled you up nicely. A few more small strokes and a particularly hard press on your clit and you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and squeezing them like Heeseung remembered your pussy being capable of.
He held you throughout your orgasm, his fingers still inside you until your walls stopped convulsing and tightening. Slowly sliding out with all of your cum running down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.
“That was…” your words slowly faded as you noticed him pull away a little, enough for him to be able to place his hand between your face and his. The glow of your essence covering every little part of Heeseung’s fingers made your face heat up. It wasn’t the first time you had cum with him, but seeing it so close made you feel shy… You came all that and only on his fingers?
With an air of pride for having been the cause of it, Heeseung smiled before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking every little drop of you. Fucking hot. He licked it all up with determination, just like he had done on your pussy until there was nothing left for him to clean.
“That was what?” he turned his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he leaned in again and now Heeseung's hips were pressed against yours.
Your pussy was still sensitive as his throbbing cock made contact with your folds. He let out a hiss, low and whimpering at the warm sensation that hadn't yet enveloped him. You wanted to surprise him just like he did to you, so slowly your lips enveloped his. A slow kiss to calm your heart that was still racing from the post-orgasm, but preparing yourself for what was on your mind as you felt him melt into your lips.
It was the calmness of Heeseung kissing you and the way you took his lips at that moment. Feeling the attention you gave to each caress, when your hands slid over his body… He just didn't count on how fast it was when you grabbed his dick and slid the red and sensitive head into your entrance.
“Y/n… Fuck, holy shit” he moaned. Being taken by surprise by the sensation, but unable to contain himself when he felt your hot hole envelop him. Quickly his hips pushed forward as if he was trained to do it, as if Heeseung needed to do it without thinking, just being close to your pussy like something magnetic to his dick.
In a quick movement, his entire dick was inside you, and you both moaned at the same second. You because you felt filled by his dick, killing the longing that was to have him inside you. That would never be admitted out loud. While he felt the warmth and sponginess of your walls enveloping every inch of his dick. A hot embrace that he needed more than ever. Another thing that wouldn't be admitted out loud either.
Heeseung adjusted himself, one hand resting on the side of your head while the other found its way to your hip. Supporting himself and squeezing the flesh of your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes before starting to move.
You remember that the first time you two had sex, Heeseung practically fucked you. The force with which his cock entered and left you, the way he ate you out and you sucked him. It was an almost angry but needy sex, where the two of you poured out teasing and moaning. But this time was different. He also remembered the way you and he gave yourselves to each other the first time. How his hips tortured yours as his cock went in and out, hearing you moan his name so much that Heeseung could think it was devotion to him.
But this time he moved masterfully. Slowly and carefully, but each time his dick entered, Heeseung went intensely to the bottom, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you completely and reach the limit that was being in your pussy, reaching your deepest point. His dick slid perfectly inside you, combining his pre-cum with your fluids and the cum from the previous orgasm, all combined with the way he moved.
To add even more intensity to the sex, Heeseung remained with his gaze fixed on your eyes. His hand on your hip tightened as he managed to reach the bottom of your pussy or when your walls squeezed him at a certain point. He was on cloud nine every time your hole swallowed him and he felt your walls being slid by every inch of him.
“Y/n” the whisper of his voice made you mumble softly, as if answering his call and telling him that you were listening. Not wanting to say too much or simply interrupt what he wanted to say to you “That’s amazing” he slowly kissed your lips, the hand on your hip sliding down to grip your thigh “You’re amazing.”
He didn’t even care if it had been said that way or how you would react. By the way your eyes were soft on him, your mouth half open letting moans escape, Heeseung could tell you felt the same way.
“You’re an idiot” you whispered “But you’re amazing too, Heeseung” he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you again.
The sharing of each movement of your tongues as they danced in sync with his hips that were still moving against yours. His cock throbbed inside your pussy indicating that he wouldn't last much longer than that, although your pussy was addictive and he could fuck you all night. But Heeseung wasn't that strong when it came to you – at least not in the last week that he discovered what sex with you was like – so cumming was more than a necessity for him at that moment.
He quickened the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his pelvis hitting against your thighs quickly in search of the apex to share a little more intimacy. Heeseung thrust his cock into you fast, but with a certain care that made your chest heat up. And that was a combination of the overwhelming sensations that the two of you were sharing. His cock went to the limit, touching your cervix as he started and going a little harder and faster to fuck you with a little more need.
Heeseung rested his forehead against yours again, a silent plea that he wanted to see you cum with him or simply see your expression when the two of you came together. And with a few more strokes you felt the burning in the pit of your stomach. Your hands ran to hold his face, afraid that the two of you would turn away and you wouldn't be able to look at him while you came undone on his cock.
“Hee” you called him before moaning close to his mouth, sharing accelerated breaths before your walls closed around his cock, cumming hard. More than the first time on his fingers.
That was too much for Heeseung to handle, he wouldn't be able to hold back the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. Your cum slid all over his length and hitting against his pelvis. Heeseung felt his balls ache as he continued to pound his cock into you until he finally came. The hot and long jets of cum inside your pussy, hitting your insides hard. He moaned your name tirelessly as he continued to move in search of prolonging both orgasms.
For a long moment, the two of you remained in that position, trying to normalize your breathing, which was still more than accelerated. Heeseung held you as if his life depended on it, and so did you. Little by little, after your pussy stopped squeezing him and his cock stopped twitching, he slowly raised his hips to pull out of you. Both of you moaning together were almost no longer connected as before, he threw himself next to you on the bed.
“Don’t move” Heeseung whispered, although he knew you didn’t have the strength to do it. With great difficulty, he got up and made the well-known path to the bathroom outside the room. Thankfully, no one had arrived from the party yet, having the apartment just for the two of you. When Heeseung returned to the room, he had a small smile on his lips as he lay down next to you again, bending over you.
“What…” he seemed to have the power to interrupt you on the strangest occasions, catching you by surprise with unexpected actions. He cleaned you carefully, leaving no trace of the two of you between your legs, just like he had done in the bathroom with himself a few seconds ago. Heeseung discarded the damp paper in the trash next to the computer table, lying down next to you again and wrapping his arm around your waist. Just like he had done the first night you and he slept together.
But this time it didn’t seem so strange to you. What was strange was that you liked the feeling of having him so close like this, facing him and resting your hands on Heeseung’s exposed chest.
“So you…”
“Don’t say anything to provoke me now or I’ll hit you” it was your turn to interrupt him, making Heeseung laugh as he pulled you closer and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't know what happened to you after Heeseung touched you, because every little thing he did made your whole body shiver.
“I was just going to say…” he whispered, his lips close to your ear, but with a subtle tone that was rarely – if ever – used with you “If you still think you hate me.”
“I do” you answered quickly. Heeseung laughed against your ear, lifting his face so he could look at you.
“Then I hate you too” he said back, pressing his lips against yours, but not kissing them like he always did when he was close enough to you. “Can we hate each other like we did today, then?”
It was your turn to laugh, making Heeseung feel strange now. His heart skipped a beat at the brightness in your eyes and the way you frowned when you were smiling like that. Was he paying too much attention or were the two of you close enough that he couldn't notice anything other than you and what you were doing? He wasn't sure.
“I think we can hate each other like this” you replied, seeing the small hint of happiness in his eyes and in the smile he gave you.
Pressing his lips slowly to yours, you let him kiss you so subtly like you never thought would happen. Because after all, you and Heeseung hated each other.
And you would hate each other the same way you did in his bed.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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usuallydyinginside · 4 months
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TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.
Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.
But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.
Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).
In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.
At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.
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She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.
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Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.
Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.
He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.
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Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."
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I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.
Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.
Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.
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LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.
Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.
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And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)
Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).
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So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.
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I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.
WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."
Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.
Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.
The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"
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Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.
Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.
ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.
SO. MUCH. BETTER.
Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.
Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)
So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.
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I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.
Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?
You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.
(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)
Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.
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miaoua3 · 1 month
Text
Stay The Morning?
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Pairing: CEO! scoups x f!reader
Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), one night stand, meet cute, rich ceo x normal girl, morning after, the whole encounter described through flashbacks, mentions of previous cheating
Description: after your previous boyfriend cheated on you, your friends allowed you three weeks of mopping and self loathing before they drag you out of the house and into a bar. little did you know that a certain gentleman will be there and that he will change your world for a night
Note: i went out with my friends, we jokingly went to our local perfume shop, i found cheols perfume (hermes h24), it made me ovulate….bon appetit.
Warning: barely proofread, read at your own risk lmao
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
to say that walking in on your boyfriend and his coworker shagging in your own bed after you’ve decided to come home earlier to surprise him with a warm and delicious cooked meal messed you up a bit was an understatement.
his apologies fell on deaf ears, partly because you didn’t want to hear it and partly because a sudden ringing appeared to be echoing in the shell of your ear.
overcome with rage, you packed all of his stuff in some plastic bags from previous shopping trips, all while he tried to talk to you and explain that ‘it isn’t what it looks like’.
what a bucket full of bullshit.
deciding that 5 bags worth of stuff should last him a few days, you threw them in front of your door before pushing your now ex in the hallway too.
in his boxers only.
but then, your bravery seemed to have disappeared. while your ex was trying to make excuses explain to you the situation, you haven’t let yourself feel a single emotion other than rage and betrayal.
the moment you slammed the door in your ex’s face though, you felt all the emotions suddenly hit you and you crumbled, letting the tears fall down your face.
in these situations, you always find yourself doing the same thing.
and that is call your two best friends.
in the matter of minutes they were in front of your door, with all the necessities like ice cream and tissues.
and they comforted you. for the whole nights.
and the rest of the week.
and the week following that one.
and then third week week too.
well, at least, until friday evening.
at 6pm sharp, your friend, sana, unlocked the door and kicked them with her foot, your other friend jihyo not far behind her.
only to find you on your couch, watching tv with dead eyes, a bucket of ice cream on your lap (now mostly in a watery consistency).
at the sudden outburst, you looked at the direction of your front door with shocked eyes.
sana, having had enough of your bullshit, marched up to you and pulled you up by your arm, “okay that’s it, go take a shower, we’re going out, i have had it with your bullshit. god, you stink, when was the last time you at least put on deodorant, bro? disgusting.”
you, still being in shock, had little space to let out a complaint at her rambling, until she basically pushed you in the bathroom, making you trip over your own feet, before she closed the bathroom door in your face.
after a second, she yelled “oh and shave your legs and everything else, we are getting you laid tonight!”
by the tone of her voice, you knew that you had no choice but to do as she told you. knowing her, she would make the heavens move just to have her way.
an hour later, you were dressed in a little tight cherry red dress, your makeup done by your two friends, hair perfectly done, a black leather jacket resting on your shoulders, your arms intertwined with the arms of your friends, pulling you out of your apartment and down the stairs.
something in your stomach was telling you that that night wouldn’t go as your friend had imagined it. realising this, you raised your concerns.
“guys, while i really do appreciate this, and im sure we will have so much fun, i don’t think i will be sleeping with anyone tonight. it just feels too soon and im not sure if it would be a good idea for me to do that.”
sana scoffs and replies “girl please, your heart is in your vagina, and currently it is broken thanks to the dumbass that you decided to date even when I specifically told you not to, it just needs to be a big dick that will sprinkle some of its fairy dust on it and it will be as good as new-“, she tried to continue, but jihyo decided to interrupt her by letting go of your arm and using the same hand to reach behind your back and smack sana across the back of her head, full force, making her head fly down.
“stop spewing nonsense, even if we wanted to we can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. plus, if she thinks it wouldn’t be a good idea then it probably isn’t, just because it would work for you doesn’t mean it would work for her.”, jihyo defends you as she intertwines your arms again and rubs the back of your hand with her other hand.
sana just mumbles “we will see about that” in response.
after a few minutes, you reach the bar that you visit semi-regularly aka whenever the stars align and all three of you happen to have a free day on the same day.
sitting at your usual place at the bar, sana orders for all of you before you can even try to protest about how you weren’t in a mood for heavy drinks.
as jihyo and sana are talking between themselves, you look around the bar, just to people watch for a bit, see everyone that is mingling in this bar.
and then you see him.
at the other end of the bar, there sat a man so beautiful it made all of those butterflies you felt on the way to the bar roar together into a chaos.
oh.
he’s so beautiful is the only thought that could cross your mind as you observed him. short black hair neatly styled in a way that it compliments all of his features, dark and thick eyebrows pulling your attention, big and plump lips set in a gentle smile. letting your eyes travel, they end up on his arms, observing how tight the black button up looks on him due to his buff physique. your wandering eyes come to his hands that are resting on the top of the counter, one crossed while the other is playing with the glass filled with dark liquor.
seeming that you have zero self control left, you let your eyes wander back up to his face, to admire the face that you could only describe as if it were sculpted by the gods themselves.
only to find his dark eyes already watching you.
quicker than a thunder, you turn your head towards your two friends again, feeling how hot your face feels due to being caught by the perfect stranger.
you try to go back to the conversation that your friends are having, as a distraction from the most perfect man that you have ever seen in your entire life.
what you fail to notice is that the stranger’s eyes stay on you, caressing your figure with his hot gaze, stopping every few seconds on one of your features, as a way to take not of every little detail and memorise it.
after half an hour, you finish your first drink (that tasted only mildly disgusting due to amount of alcohol it had in it). but it seems that with every sip you took, your self control would lessen and your eyes would stray in the direction of mr.perfect (as you started calling him in your head).
only to snap your head right back because he would already be looking at you, gentle smile playing on the edge of his lips.
the entire time you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, excitement and nervousness. to be completely honest, you forgot how it felt to be excited to have got somebody’s whole attention on you, and to have your own attention solely focused on them.
all the butterflies you felt as you were walking to the bar seem to only duplicate with every little exchange of glances between you and mr.perfect.
just as you raised your hand to get the bartender’s attention, a deep “um, excuse me?” came from your right, making you pause your action to turn your head.
and your breath catches in your throat.
because one and only mr.perfect was standing right there, towering over you due to you sitting and him being so very tall, clad in all black, the sleeves of his black button up rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone, giving you a peak to his strong and defined collarbones, a gentle smile teasing the edges of his mouth.
and his gaze.
oh his gaze was burning you from the intensity of it, making goosebumps arise on your skin.
seeing that he got your attention, he continues with a boyish smile “i was just wondering if i could buy you your next drink? it’s just that- i saw you across the room and i thought that you were absolutely beautiful, and my mom taught me that beautiful women should never pay for their own drinks a-and im rambling aren’t i?”, he finishes with a low chuckle, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.
looking at him, it would seem that a cat got ahold of your tongue because you proceed to just stare at him, both of you waiting for you to say anything.
luckily, jihyo comes to your rescue, behind your shoulder smiles at the stranger and says “she would love to!”
breaking out of the trance, you look at her shortly to see her nodding her head encouragingly, before looking at the stranger again with a blushing face “um, yes, i’d really like that”.
he smiles at you, before calling the bartender over. you tell him your order before he directly gets to work.
as your drink is being made, the stranger smiles at you and puts out his hand for a handshake (his beautifully big, veiny and manly hand, adorned by a ring on his middle finger and an expensive watch on his writs) “my name is choi seungcheol, may i ask for yours?”
blushingly, you put your hand in his and introduce yourself. making some small talk, you learn that he is currently 29 years old, and that he’s here with some friends for a friend’s birthday.
just as you were about to ask him what he does for a living, your drink gets put in front of you, breaking the flow of the conversation.
seungcheol, seeing that the only reason why approached you is done, gets up from his sit next to you, “well, your drink is here, i’ll leave you ladies alone now, thank you for allowing me to pay for your drink, enjoy the rest of your night”. he smiles gently before he starts to go back to his friends.
you weren’t lying that alcohol messed with your self control, because in the time it took him to make three steps, you were up and out of your seat, way too loudly than necessary saying “um-!”.
hearing you behind him, he turns around and to see your flustered face, questionably looking at you.
seeing that the cat is already out of the bag and that you already embarrassed yourself as it is, you continue “y-you know, you could buy me the next drink too? o-or, well, you could just- you could offer me a longer conversation instead? um, actually, i-i’d prefer that to a drink.”, you finish with almost to none dignity left, your entire face burning from embarrassment.
seungcheol, in return just smiles.
and the butterflies go wild again.
oh, no.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
waking up, you notice that your room is suspiciously bright. like, way too bright for it to be your room.
the thought makes you jump and sit up automatically, only to notice the lack of the clothes on your body, making you pull the duvet over your chest.
looking around the room, you realise that you were in somebody else’s bed.
and looking to your right, you get the answer as to whose room it is.
seungcheol is sound asleep next to you, shirtless, laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you, his lips set in a cute little pout, his back muscles moving and flexing with every exhale that escapes his mouth.
and his back. oh. my. god.
there were nail scratches all over his back, making it look as if a wild cat had attacked him. but it wasn’t a cat that attacked him, was it now? no it was your doing.
looking around the room, you realise just how much more spacious it looks in the daylight. actually, everything about his condo is big and spacious (as well as everything about him-).
noting every little detail around the room and thinking about how much everything must’ve cost. but it probably didn’t make that much of a difference to him. no.
because choi seungcheol wasn’t just anybody.
he was a ceo of…some company whose name you can’t remember because you were…occupied with something else when he was explaining it to you (read: occupied by watching the veins in his forearms move with every move of his arms that he made).
the fact that he hid that from you up until the moment you walked into his condo makes you mentally scoff at your cluelessness, because who else would wear a watch that size if not a ceo of a company?
you were willing to ignore the big watch. you were even willing to ignore the ridiculously expensive-looking audi that he drove you in to his place. even the underground garage that he drove into.
but walking directly out of the lift and into the biggest condo you have ever since with the whole wall being just one giant window? oh, no way in hell were you going to let it slide.
turning around to look at him questionably, you feel his hand that’s on your back rub slow circles, and his smile turn into a sheepish one.
“so, just a businessman huh?”, you question his previous answer with a raised brow.
in return he chuckles, “well, i am a businessman technically, i just never mentioned that i was a ceo of a company”, he answers before he toes off his dress shoes and walks in what you were sure to be a kitchen.
you follow him, slowly observing the ginormous living room that you find yourself into, before stopping in front of the big window. his condo had to be the best in the whole of seoul, because the view that you are looking at right now is enough to leave you breathless. thousands of lights from all across the seoul make it look like the night sky.
after a minute you ask him “why didn’t you tell me what you really do? there wasn’t really a reason to hide something like that so i assume that you had a bigger reason for not telling me.”, you turn your head back to be able to see him clearly.
he stops pouring you two drinks for a moment, looks upwards with furrowed eyebrows for a moment, before looking at you with and with upmost sincerity answers “you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would care about things like that.”, he turns his head back to the glasses in front of him before he continues “plus, i was sitting in front of the most beautiful woman i have ever seen, i much rather talk about you and get to know you than talk about my boring work.”, he chuckles as he finishes his thought.
his answer was so simple, yet it got your breath catching in your throat.
you can’t remember the last time somebody really cared about you and who wanted to get to know you, to learn about all the little things about you.
your gaze finally falls on seungcheol’s back again, and on your artwork.
you feel the heat on your cheeks worsen, the longer you look at the marks on his big and muscular back. the heat to your face isn’t the only thing that looking at his back brings to you, but the memories of last night as well.
although your eyes are focused on the view in front of you, you can feel that seungcheol was walking slowly towards you, until he was standing directly behind you. slowly, you see his hand appear in front of your face, holding a glass of water. carefully, you take it from his hand, saying a quiet “thank you” before taking a little sip of the water.
you gently put the glass on the little table holding a vase to your left, before looking in front of you again.
ever so slowly, you feel him inch closer to you, until your back is brushing his firm chest. his smell has your mind clouded-he smells so good, not too strong like most men do, but just enough to have you taking a deeper whiff of it. such a pleasant smell, it had your eyelids closing in satisfaction on their own.
ever so lightly he places his hand in your hip, his hold on it getting firmer with each slow second. at this simple touch you find yourself gasping lowly, goosebumps raising on the skin of your arms.
you can tell by the precision of his moves and how he takes his time with each action of his what kind of lover he is. the type to make you feel safe and relaxed. the type that would put your pleasure in the first place. the gentle but firm type.
the type to be the best you have ever had.
another step, and his entire front is touching your entire back. there isn’t an inch of you that isn’t touching him. you can feel his breath on the back of your head, and your own coming to a still stand in your throat.
slowly, he moves his head until it’s right there, to your right. he lets his head dip a little lower, so his nose is grazing the skin of your shoulder and ever so lightly, takes a deep breath of your smell.
he inhales deeply, at the end of it a little groan rumbling in his chest. he then lets his instincts take over-slowly, he moves his head so his nose travels across your shoulder, up your neck (where for a few milliseconds you feel his lips brush across your skin too, making you gasp quietly), across your jawline, until his lips are right by your ear.
in what must be the deepest voice you have ever heard from a man, he whispers, “tell me to stop…”, he pauses, letting go of his self control for a moment and letting his lips leave a little kiss on the edge of your jawline, before he continues “…and i will stop”.
gone were all the thoughts from your head, which is probably why you find your head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closing on their own, feeling the lack of the air in your lungs getting to your head, and breathlessly, you say “don’t stop, please”.
which seemed to be enough for him, because in the next second he’s directing your face to his own with two fingers and kissing you like he’s dying, and you are the only antidote that could save him.
his tongue massages your own in such a meticulous manner, that it made a little moan escape you. quickly, you break the kiss for the second it takes you to turn around in his hold, not even realising that he now had both of his arms wrapped around your stomach, and kissing him with what must look like desperation to anybody else.
he sucks on your top lip for a bit, before he deepens your kiss, his hand flying up to hold your jaw in place, slowly turning your head a bit to the side so he can get even deeper.
you seem to be out of your mind, because your hand-all on its own- grabs ahold of his other hand that is resting on your back, and places it on the back of your head.
seeing what you probably must’ve wanted, seungcheol takes a second to push his hand into your hair. and then he pulls on it ever so lightly.
and then you moan loudly in his mouth.
and that seems to do it for him, because he groans deeply at your moan, before he breaks a kiss harshly to grab ahold of your thighs and pick you up as if you weighed nothing.
the action got you gasping, your legs automatically wrapping themselves around his hips. but before you had the time to tell him to put you down and that “you were too heavy”, he’s right back, kissing you like he was starving for it-starving for you.
with ease, he turns around and starts walking down the hall. but since he’s only a man, he gets a bit carried away, having to stop and push you against the wall, his kisses now fast and almost animalistic, travelling from your mouth, across your cheek and down your throat. at one harsher kiss to your skin on the neck, you let out a louder moan, which only fuelled his desire, his kisses getting faster, harsher, his tongue touching your skin with his open mouth kisses, the hold he had on your thighs getting tighter.
you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this wet, this satisfied, this hungry for more from a kiss alone. out of the window went all of your consciousness, your thoughts, the only thing that you knew at that moment were seungcheol and that you wanted him. more than you have ever wanted anything else.
gasping while he continues to attack your neck and collarbones, you moan a simple “more”.
and who was seungcheol to deprive his lady of what she wanted?
taking ahold of his actions, he gets a better grasp on your thighs, before he pushes you two away from the wall. in five big steps, he’s in front of his bedroom door, pushing them opened harshly with his foot, carrying you inside, before letting go of one of your legs to slam the door shut, all while still kissing you.
the thoughts that were playing in your mind like a movie got you slapping your face with both hands, covering your whole face with them.
not being able to sit still anymore, you gut up and out of the bed, quickly picking up a random shirt from the chair that was by the door, and out of the room.
you find yourself a bit lost, before you see the door to your left, on which stoop a sign that said “bathroom”. quickly, you run into the room and close the door behind yourself.
breathing out a sigh of relief, you look around to see just how ridiculously expensive the bathroom must look like.
and without any disappointment, the bathroom looks like it came straight out of somebody’s pinterest board- a big white bathtub to the left, to the right what must be the biggest shower you have ever seen, a toilet to the left in front of you, and a mirror so big there wouldn’t be a wall big enough to hang it in your own apartment. the tiles of the whole bathroom were this nice shade of beige, creating a harmony with the white furniture of the room.
noticing how badly you need to relieve yourself, you do yourself before getting up to wash your hands. as you finish, you look up to see just how bad your makeup must look.
and you gasp. because your whole neck is covered in hickeys, bigger part of them looking like they are connecting, making it look like one giant purple hickey that’s wrapped around your whole neck.
you just stand there for a second, in a loss for words as to how bad it looks. if you saw this sight on anybody else, you would think that they got mauled by a bear or some wild animal of sorts.
looking at the hickeys on your body got you blushing, and even more so as you remember how they came to be.
ever so gently, seungcheol puts you down on his big and fluffy bed. putting you down seemed to be the only thing he was going to do gently, because the very next second he’s basically pouncing on you, the kiss continuing after a brief moment it took him to lay you down. you feel his tongue battle with your own, before he pulls on your bottom lip with his own lips, lightly biting it to tease you just a little bit.
his hands go from resting next to your head to caressing your body, until they reach the hem of your dress. he breaks the kiss apart, starting to ask “can i-“.
but before he can finish the sentence, you are whining in his face, glossy eyes looking up at him “take it off, please, take it off take it off, please please please-“.
your begging seems to make him lose his mind just a bit more. quickly and with no care, as if he’s just as desperate to have this tight dress off of your body, he switches his hold to the straps of your dresss, harshly pulling it down your arms and chest, over your waist and over your hips, before giving it one final pull over your legs and tossing it over his shoulder.
for a moment, he sits on his heels and just observes you. he feels his chest tightening due to lack of oxygen, his heart beating so fast he thinks it could stop any moment.
your curves would get him kneeling in front of you if he wasn’t already doing so. and the little two piece lingerie- god, help him, for he is about to sin, big time.
he wanted to look at this sight for a bit longer, to have it embedded in his mind forever, but it seems that his girl is a bit impatient, because he feels your hand harshly pulling on his shirt and feels himself falling down on you before the sound of your whining even has the time to hit the shell of his ear.
you kiss him desperately, your hands everywhere- in his hair, on the nape of his neck, across his shoulders and scratching on his back.
all while whining and moaning in his mouth.
god help cheol if he wasn’t about to cum just from the pretty sounds you were making for him.
seeing as you weren’t willing to let him go, or stop kissing him for that matter, seungcheol opts to multitask and take his shirt off while still kissing you. the moment its off, your hands seem to have a mind of their own, travelling all over his back and shoulders before straying to his front, your firm touch traveling from his stomach to his chest.
deciding that he can’t wait anymore, he pulls on your underwear harshly, making them fly over his shoulder too, before he lets his lips leave open-mouth kisses over your neck, collarbones, chest, stopping for a bit to give you nipples a little nibble over your lacy bra, over your tummy, on your hip.
before he knows it, he finds himself laying between your legs, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes, his gaze hot enough to burn your skin.
he gently takes your thighs in his hands, before putting them on his shoulders. before he can even utter the words, you nod your head vigorously and enthusiastically, feeling your legs shake slightly at anticipation.
and then his mouth is on you. and you gasp.
he licks one long stripe from your hole to your clit, which he proceeds to suck onto lightly, making your hips buckle. his tongue then starts to lap at it, leaving little kitten licks on your clit.
your hand instinctively fly to his beautiful luscious hair, pulling on it, trying to getting him even closer if possible.
understanding what you want, seungcheol then lowers his mouth a bit, probing and pushing at your hole, twisting his tongue when entering you in ways you couldn’t think were humanly possible, sucking on your entrance every time before his tongue enters you again.
it’s embarrassing to admit, but you can confidently say that you have never been this close to the finish this fast.
which is why you try to pull him away by your hold on his hair. but he ignores your tugging, instead lets one of his hands that’s been holding your thigh travel up and take hold of one of your hands, before intertwining your hands and letting them rest on your hip.
such a simple action but it got your heart feeling so warm, you can for sure say that nobody ever made you feel this way by a simple action such as this one.
feeling your finish approaching quickly, you try to warn him, but he just looks at you with what looked like to be completely black eyes sternly, almost as if he was saying “don’t you dare stop me”.
and who were you to do as much?
suddenly, like a big wave, you feel the euphoria hit you, you back leaving the mattress, the hold you had on his hand and his hair tightening to the point you were sure must’ve hurt him, your thighs locking, squishing his face between them, all while moaning so loudly you were sure his neighbours were about to hate you.
seungcheol just continues to lap at your hole, drinking up every little drop of your cum as if it were nectar, closing his eyes in enjoyment, groaning as he makes sure to drink up everything you were giving him.
after a minute, you start feeling a bit overstimulated, whining in protest, which was seungcheol’s cue to stop. slowly detangling himself from your legs, he slowly climbs back up before he’s kissing you, your own taste greeting you on his tongue.
seungcheol breaks the kiss apart for a moment, his eyes as dark as night as he looks you directly in the eyes, before he asks you.
“are you ready to give me more, pretty girl?”
you again cover your blushing face with your hands, peeking just a bit between your fingers to look at yourself in the mirror.
seungcheol is so perfect, in every way possible, that you weren’t sure that he was real. maybe he was just a speck of your imagination, something you made up in your mind to make yourself feel better about your love life.
your hands slowly slide down your face as the reality of the situation starts to hit you, a sour look overtaking your expression.
seungcheol was so perfect. too perfect for you to have him.
knowing that talking to him again will just add salt to the injury, that it will make you realise just how out of your league he is, you decide that sneaking off would be for the best, for the both of you. after all, this was probably just a one time thing for him.
you bend down to pick up the shirt that you took from his room to put on until you find your dress, when suddenly, you feel a sharp cramp in your thighs, making you gasp.
you knew that you two went quite hard at it last night, but you didn’t think it would make walking hard for you the next day.
shyly, you peek at your thighs to see just how irritated the skin must look like, the recollection of the encounter yet again clouding your mind.
as you kiss, you feel one of his hands reach to the side before you hear him fumble with something, breaking the kiss so you both look at him struggling to find the condom in his nightstand.
after a few seconds he finally pulls out a pack, taking one out of the bunch before he pulls back entirely, sitting on his heels.
carefully he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear just enough for his cock go be freed. and oh god, if that wasn’t the biggest one you have ever had, he was so big and thick, it made goosebumps appear on your skin in anticipation. he rips the packaging with his teeth, and rolls it on himself, all while he still keeps the eye contact going.
seungcheol then lowers himself back onto you, before he teases your folds with his fingers.
in a raspy voice he says “your pussy got me so drunk that i forgot that i need to prep you before i fuck you”, and then he pushes one of his thick fingers in your hole, your gasp so loud in your own ears that normally it would make you feel embarrassed. he then continues “wouldn’t want to hurt my pretty girl when I’m supposed to be making you feel good, hm?”, he finishes and pushes another finger on the next time he pushes back inside of you.
if you had any mental strength left, you would’ve answered him, but there was literally nothing going on in your head other than how good his fingers felt, massaging your walls, scissoring you,his tumb gently massaging your clit in slow circles, pushing and pulling his fingers in a slow but steady pace, ever so often the til of his fingers grazing your g spot, making you moan in his face.
he fingers you as if he had tons of experience with your body, like he already knew how you liked it. and he does it all while looking at your face, his forehead slowly coming down to rest on your own.
after what you felt must’ve been hours when in reality it was just a few minutes, he seemed to be satisfied, pulling his fingers out completely.
and then he pushed the very same fingers inside of his mouth, eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing at your taste, humming in satisfaction as he licks his fingers clean.
you feel yourself clench as you watch him suck on his fingers. he looked like a god as he did it- his hair now messy and fluffy thanks to you, his expression looks like he’s having the best meal of his life, his tan skin glistening with sweat, his naked chest raising as he breathes in and out.
he looked so divine, it made you go just a little bit insane. just a bit.
he opens his dark eyes again, his face turning somewhat serious. seungcheol then slowly lowers himself down again, caging your head with his forearms that come to rest next to your head, making your entire focus shift to his eyes.
without much thought, you wrap your arms around his back, your legs locking themselves around his hips.
in the corner of your eye you see him his hand disappearing down, before you feel his cock teasing your folds, his head catching on your clit when he goes to pull it down back your folds. you gasp at this action, you eyes wanting to close themselves all on their own but your mind makes them stay open as you don’t want to miss a single thing.
his free hand comes to your face, pushing your hair back a little bit, before his tumb comes to wipe your bottom lip, your lips falling open on their own.
seungcheol caresses your cheek with the same tumb, and with gentle eyes and voice asks “ready?”.
to which you only nod your head slightly.
he smiles slightly before he lightly pinches your cheek “use your words, baby. i need to know you are 100% sure about this.”
a whispered ‘yes’ falls out of your mouth, your eyes in a trance with his own, the only things you are able to focus on are those chocolate orbs of his.
and then he’s pushing inside of you.
you both gasp at the burn, having difficulties fitting him inside of your tight hole.
his gasp turns into a rough growl, deeply saying “fuck, so tight, baby, you need to relax for me, otherwise i could hurt you”.
you try to listen to him, taking a deep breath in and out. kind of at the same time you both look down between yourselves.
only to see that he has only pushed his tip inside of you.
dear lord, may he help you survive this night.
as a minute passes by, you feel yourself slowly relax, seungcheol pushes himself a little bit more every few seconds until he’s completely bottoms out, his hips now touching yours.
he gives you a minute to relax, his hand gently rubbing your cheek, eyes lovingly looking at you.
as you give him a slight nod with your head, he slowly pulls out, before pushing back. he sets a slow pace for the start, carefully looking at your face for signs of discomfort, making your heart clench at his little signs of affection.
the pace continues for a few minutes, the thickness of his cock and how it massages your insides making you moan and him groan.
feeling like its not enough, you whine a little ‘more’ to him.
which was either the biggest mistake or the best decision of your life.
he quickens the movement of his hips slightly, the slapping of skin against skin now being added to the harmony that your moans and his groans were making.
his breath starts coming out heavier, the air that leaves his mouth lightly hitting your face as he’s fucking you.
you whine every time he pulls his hips back and moan every time he pushes them back, his cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.
but it seems like you are so desperate for more, so insatiable, that you pull him closer to you with your hold around his shoulders, his face falling in the curve where your neck meets your shoulders, your own doing the very same, whining “more, please, give me more, i want more, please please please-“ directly in his ear, your eyes closing in pleasure.
seungcheol stops for second, making you whine in disappointment, takes ahold of your thighs to hitch your legs higher on his hips.
and then he doubles the speed of his hips.
he sets an insane pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, groans and deep moans falling out of his mouth. his dick feels so big, his head repeatedly hitting your spot, making your moans border on screams.
you can’t remember the last time you got fucked this good, and you were sure this will stay in your memory forever.
seungcheol continues with his merciless pace, your muscles clenching around him which in return makes him make more of those beautiful noises.
“you like that, baby? fuck, the noises you make- you are driving me insane. your pussy feels so tight- fuck, i can barely fit. and it’s so wet i- jesus. is this all for me? hm? so wet, just for me baby? fuck, i could fuck you for the rest of my life, never want to stop, want my dick inside of you all the time. you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty girl? fuck- such a good girl-“
he continues to praise you and talk about you good you feel, how you are being such a good girl for him, and normally you would answer.
(un)fortunately, you have zero thoughts going on in your mind, only able to moan in his ear while he kisses and bites your shoulder, neck and collarbones, the sting barely noticeable in comparison to the slapping of the skin you feel on the back of your thighs. with extra effort, you successfully say through a moan “more, please, gimme more”.
seungcheol growls at this, before he pulls out completely out of you. he then harshly pulls you by your thighs and turns you over, pulling your hips up before you even have the time to let out a gasp. your chest that are now lacking all the air are touching the mattress while your ass is in the air, fully exposed to seungcheol’s eyes.
without any warning he slaps your right ass cheek, something between a scream and a moan flying out of your mouth. not giving you any time to even process the action, he’s already pushing his cock back inside of you, the new angle making the stretch feel even more delicious.
“fuck, my girl is so desperate huh? so desperate for this cock, moaning so prettily for me. fuck, you are going to be the death of me, you and this pussy”.
he basically lays himself on top of you, covering your whole body with his own, his firm chest pressed in your back, before he resumes his quick pace.
seungcheol pounds into you, so much so that you feel your pussy burn from the force of his hips that are slapping against it.
he continues to praise you but unfortunately you don’t hear anything anymore, only things that you can focus on is the delicious stretch of his dick and how it’s repeatedly hitting your g spot.
feeling your finish approaching quicker than expected, you moan out “im coming im coming im comi-“.
seeing that he is in the same boat, seungcheol groans in your ear, his hand quickly finding your own and intertwining your hands. squeezing your hands tightly, he growls in your ear “cum. cum for me pretty girl, fuck- make a mess on this dick”.
he uses his free hand to find your clit and rub it quickly.
and then you are screaming in pleasure. you feel your walls squeezing him harder than ever, milking him dry, which triggers his own release, a deep moan rumbling in his chest against your own back.
he fucks your slowly through both of your orgasms, your mind so cloudy that you don’t even feel the bite on your shoulder that he had to do in order to quiet down his own moans.
after a minute you feel your thighs shake slightly from overstimulation, lightly tapping him on his arm to stop, and he does. he stays inside as he uses his hand to slightly rub the side of your thigh in comfort.
as you try to regain your breath, you feel seungcheol kiss your cheek lightly like a feather, before he asks.
“ready to give me one more, baby?”
your cheeks burn as your thoughts take over your mind again. quickly shaking them off, you pull on the shirt over your head before leaving the bathroom.
as quietly as possible, you enter seungcheol’s room to find him still sleeping on his stomach, his back turned to you. sighing in relief, you make a quick search for your things.
as you pull on your dress from last night, you grimace at the fact that you will have to wear the same pair of panties from last night.
as you make sure that you have all of your things, you slowly head for the doors.
until a voice behind you stops you.
“leaving already?”.
you stop in your tracks before slowly turning around to see seungcheol looking at you through puffy eyes.
“yknow, if you wanted to leave in the morning, you could’ve just told me that last night, i would’ve prepared a car to drive you back, but i was under the impression that you were going to stay and have a breakfast with me”, he finishes as he lightly rubs his face.
you quickly look down, embarrassment and guilt washing over your face. you did want to stay, you wanted to stay for as long as he would let you, but you weren’t sure if that would be okay for him, or if you even deserved it.
seeing the expression on your face, seungcheol then asks, barely above the whisper, pleading looking at you.
“stay? please?”.
you quickly look up to see his gentle eyes, before you answer unsurely.
“would that really be okay with you? it’s just- i wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a one time thing only or-or maybe- well, something more, so uh, i thought it be better to just leave a-and i-“
as you ramble, seungcheol feels his lips betray him as a small smile slowly gets bigger and bigger the longer you talk. deciding to make this easier for the both of you, he interrupts you.
“baby?”
you look at him with red cheeks, all and every thought you had evaporating from your mind.
seeing that he got your attention, he continues.
“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”
and who were you to deny him anything?
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peachdues · 7 months
Text
THE GREAT WAR
PART I ♤ SECRET PREGNANCY AU
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A/N: After seven months, it's finally here. Part I of Giyuu's Bundle of Joy. This fic involved a ton of research and tears. I hope you all enjoy. Special shout-out to @squishybabei @kentohours @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701 @ghost-1-y and @xxsabitoxx for letting me bombard your DMs with endless snippets from this fic for feedback. Note that this is a multi-part fic, and it will be a non-linear story.
CW: explicit sexual content ☼ MDNI ☼ loss of virginity ☼ unprotected sex ☼ protective/possessive Giyuu ☼ canon-typical violence
LISTEN TO THE PLAYLIST HERE
January, 1915
The moon’s rays filtered through the sparse canopy of the trees from above, bathing that small portion of the forest in its silvery glow. There, about twenty paces ahead, Giyuu locked eyes on his target.
A demon; one he’d been pursuing through the dense forest separating his Manor from the base of a great mountain for the last several miles
The demon had yet to notice him, for it was focused entirely on its own prey — a human woman, who was frantically zigzagging as she ran in a desperate effort to evade its clutches. 
She was succeeding rather well in her endeavor, managing to dart out of the beast’s reach right as it snapped its sharp, deadly claws at her back. But the girl then miscalculated her movements and stumbled over something — whether it was a tree root or her own feet, he could not say — and she went airborne. For one, sickening moment, Giyuu feared he would not be fast enough to save her from falling victim to the demon he was readying to kill.
The girl squealed as she fell, just narrowly managing to avoid the swipe of the beast’s claws as they cut uselessly at the air where her back had been only seconds before. Something long and wooden flew from her hand as she sprawled across the forest floor – a broom.
Odd. 
Steps quick and even, Giyuu’s thumb flicked his sword free from its scabbard. Within seconds of him drawing his weapon, the Slayer’s blade sliced seamlessly through the demon’s neck, its head thudding pathetically to the forest floor before the beast could comprehend the threat.
He landed swiftly on the balls of his feet, the Water Pillar quickly shaking his blade free of the demon’s blackened, rotted blood before sheathing it at his hip. A quick job – that was how he liked it; free of fuss. 
Behind him, he heard the leaves coating the frozen ground of the forest shift and crack as the human girl he’d rescued rose to her feet. He grimaced; while helping rid the world of the blight inflicted upon it by demons was his life’s sole and true purpose, and one he fulfilled without hesitation, he was little more than a fish out of water when it came to talking to those he helped. 
The girl had yet to flee; Giyuu suspected she might be in shock, if not a bit simple, and he sought to prod her along. After all, the sooner she left the forest, the less likely she’d end up a demon’s meal and waste his efforts in preserving her life. 
“You should be fine now. Please return to your ho-,” The dark-haired Slayer’s words were cut off with a sputter as the head of the woman’s broom whacked him sharply up the side of his skull. 
Giyuu stood there for a moment, dazed and slightly confused as he turned towards the woman whose life he’d just preserved. 
The Water Pillar had not paid her much mind upon discovering her seconds away from becoming the slain horned demon’s newest meal, his attention having been entirely focused on eliminating his target. But now, without the distracting threat of a man-eating beast, he could see she was clad in the traditional attire worn by Shinto priestesses, though she looked far too young to have achieved such a status. Instead, she appeared to be much closer to himself in age. The front of her red hakama pants were streaked in mud and dirt from her fall, and several strands of hair had fallen loose from where they’d been gathered in a ribbon just below her shoulders. 
And she was glaring at him. 
“What are you?” She demanded, and the Water Pillar noted the faint tremor in her voice that she worked to conceal behind her defensive stance, her broom braced in front of her like a blade. 
A slow blink. “I am Tomioka.” 
It baffled him that he let his name slide so freely when he’d never been one particularly keen on sharing it. Yet, he’d thought that perhaps the exchange of names would get the wild woman before him to calm, and perhaps lower the sweeping tool —-
“What the hell is a Tomioka?” 
Giyuu wondered whether the — Miko, that was what young priestesses in training were called — had hit her head in the fall. “My name.” 
A faint dusting of red spread across the Miko’s cheeks as she realized the absurdity of her mistake, though she still did not lower her weapon. Rather, she jutted it towards him in what Giyuu thought may have been an attempt to be threatening. 
“And what was that thing just now, Tomioka? And what are you?”  Quickly, her eyes swept behind him, scanning. “Are there more?”
Idly, Giyuu wondered why he was bothering to indulge in such a silly conversation to begin with, chalking it up to the mere fact that they were still in a dark forest, with dawn still several hours away. 
The foolish girl would end up a snack for another demon if she did not turn around and go home. 
“It was a demon. I’d been tracking it for several miles when it stumbled across you. You can count yourself lucky — do not hit me again.” He cut off with a warning, eyes narrowing as the Miko drew the broom back up over her head. 
There was a tense moment as the two regarded one another, Giyuu’s eyes locked on the Miko’s trembling arm as she stared distrustfully back at him. 
The girl’s hands twitched as the broom cleaved through the air once more, but Giyuu knocked it easily away, sending the cleaning tool flying uselessly to the side where it rolled under a bush. 
“Are you finished?” Giyuu asked, irritation creeping into his tone as he stared coolly at the flustered Miko. 
“You’ve stripped me of my only weapon, so I suppose I have no choice,” the young woman sniffed, her tone as frosty as his glare. 
Giyuu grimaced. “You would not have lost the privilege had you simply done as I asked.” 
The Miko folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and glowered at him. “You would truly leave a woman defenseless in the woods? With nothing to protect herself?”
Giyuu scoffed. “You are not a woman; you are a menace.” 
The young woman’s mouth opened and closed several times as her face flushed several shades deeper. “Y-you!” 
A crack! somewhere in the woods made the sputtering Miko fall silent with a small squeak, and Giyuu was bemused to find that the woman’s hands shot to him for safety, when only moments before she’d tried to clobber him away from her. 
“You said that…that thing earlier was a demon, yes?” She whispered and Giyuu nodded, tense as his eyes swept through the shadowy line of the trees, searching. 
“Do you think there are more?”
“So long as we continue sitting here like a pair of lame ducks, more are bound to come sniffing.” The wary Pillar replied. “Which is why I suggest you return home — without bludgeoning me further.”
The young Priestess continued to cling to his arm, her eyes wide and anxious. Giyuu cleared this throat, and when the woman’s attention snapped back to him, he pointedly glanced down at her white-knuckled grip on the sleeve of his haori. 
“Apologies,” the Miko blushed, and her hands quickly relinquished their hold on his sleeve. She wrung her hands nervously before her. “Might you escort me back to my Shrine? It’s not far from here – less than two kilometers.” 
Still within his territory — albeit at the opposite end of the forest where is own Manor stood. He grimaced, but nodded stiffly. His efforts to save the woman’s life would be in vain if she walked away from him and straight into the waiting, eager claws of another beast that lurked in the shadows.
The Miko smiled brightly at him and offered her name. Giyuu elected not to reply, and the girl settled into step at his side, a small frown pulling at her lips.
“I’m sorry for earlier — for hitting you with my broom.” The girl — Y/N — said a short while later, the faintest trace of shyness in her tone. 
Giyuu did not think the apology warranted a response, and so he gave none, but the chatty little devil prodded him once more. 
“Did I injure you?” She gestured to the side of his head where her broom had caught him. 
Giyuu snorted, raising an eyebrow at her. “The day I am hurt by a mere broom is the day I retire from the Demon Slayer Corps.” 
Y/N hummed in contemplation. “And what exactly is the great and mysterious Demon Slayer Corps?” 
The Water Pillar’s eyes remained forward. “I should think the name is self-explanatory. There are demons who eat humans. We slay them.” 
Inwardly, Giyuu cringed at the harshness of his words. It did not happen often, but there were times when he wished he was better with them, when he wished he did not come off quite as aloof and callous — 
“You do not know how to talk to people very well, do you Tomioka-sama?” Y/N’s tone was not judgmental; it rather had a mild curiosity to it, as though she were merely commenting on the weather or the quality of a cup of tea. 
But the Water Pillar did not know how to answer her. Kocho once told him that others disliked him, but Giyuu wasn’t sure that was entirely true; after all, no one had ever said so much to his face. 
Then again, if the young shrine maiden’s words were anything to go by, then perhaps the Insect Pillar’s scathing assessment hadn’t been too far off the mark. 
“What even brought you into the forest so late at night?”  Giyuu did not know why the question needled at him, but he found the pressing silence of the trees more disconcerting than the Miko’s voice, and so he was desperate for the distraction. “And why a broom?”
Y/N herself seemed surprised at his sudden interest. “Night-blooming herbs,” she said plainly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They are critical for certain rites and medications. And I cannot collect them any other time. The broom was for protection, obviously.” 
“I wasn’t aware shrines still performed rituals,” Giyuu pushed an errant tree branch out of their way, and ahead, faint lights began to swim into view. The Shrine. “Are you not a mere relic of a time long since-passed?” 
“I’ll have you know that we still perform basic cleansing rites for those in the village,” Y/N bristled. “And we provide medical aid, since there is no hospital nearby.”
She shot him a cold look. “Modern medicine would not have developed but for ancient practices such as ours.”
Giyuu frowned. He hadn’t meant to insult the woman. “Be that as it may,” he said flatly. “Demons prowl at night. You wandering into the forest none the wiser  is akin to you waltzing into their territory with a giant sign that says ‘Eat me.’”
Y/N grimaced. “Then what would you have me do? Neglect my duties?” 
He could sympathize with that. “No, I’m not saying you should forsake your obligations,” he furrowed his eyebrows at the thought. “Perhaps it is simply a risk you must take. But you should at least be aware of your surroundings.”
Y/N looked upon him with a miserable expression. “You’re of little help, you know that?” 
Giyuu only frowned, perplexed as to why she couldn’t understand the import of his words.
An awkward silence ensued, punctured only by the faint hoot of an owl. For that, the established swordsman was grateful; noise meant the absence of predators, which meant they were safe – for now. 
“You mentioned tracking the demon earlier – how long had you been doing so?” 
“A while.” 
The girl was relentless. “And you just so happened to track it here? Where it was conveniently chasing me?” 
“I patrol this region. Your rescue was nothing more than coincidence and luck on your part.” 
“My gratitude is endless,” the shrine maiden said drily. “Forgive me for not falling to the ground in prostration.”
At that, Giyuu fell silent and refused to engage in any further conversation. The shrine maiden, for her part, seemed to take his cue that he had no interest in her or exchanging meaningless pleasantries, and so she too, went quiet. 
The forest floor eventually began to slope gradually up, and before long, Giyuu found himself walking along a carved rock path that curved through the trees until it widened at a great set of stone stairs. At the very top of the steep incline, he could spot a great Torii gate.
Y/N turned to him with a beaming smile. “Allow me to introduce you to the Shrine." Tomioka opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly added, “You should at least know who it is you have dedicated your life to protecting.” 
“I’d rather not.”
But she was already leading him up the stairs, his wrist pinched delicately between two of her fingers. Realistically, Giyuu knew it would take him no effort to shake the woman’s hold and disappear into the night. But to his own bemusement, he allowed her to tote him behind her as though he were little more than a useless pet. 
The pair passed under the Torrii and into a sprawling courtyard. Though night sky was a deep, inky black, the perimeter of the courtyard was dotted with several stone lanterns -- toro -- each of which had been lit with a generous flame. Giyuu's quick perusal of the Shrine, however, was cut short as the Miko led him into the Shrine's main structure -- the honden -- and tugged him down a narrow hallway. Based on his rough appraisal of the building, Giyuu surmised she was taking him to the center of the honden, likely where the girl's master was.
His theory was proven correct when Y/N drew up to a great slat of shoji panneling. The Miko knocked softly on one of the wooden beams before she slid the door aside, revealing a great, open room that was littered with scrolls, half-dried pots of ink, and burned incense sticks. There, in the center of the room, knelt the head Priestess of the Shrine. She was an old, shriveled, wrinkled thing. The white hair that she’d gathered into a knot at her neck was as wispy as the thinnest clouds, and a quick glance over her hands revealed swollen joints covered by skin spotted with age.
But the Priestess did not appear to be a gentle elder by any means; her thin mouth was curled down into a sneer that was directed at the Miko at his side, and her eyes were hard and cold.  
"Head Priestess," Y/N bowed to her elder. "This man is called Tomioka, and he helped save me tonight in the forest."
Giyuu resisted the urge to snort. Helped, indeed.
The old woman's eyes shone bright with an emotion he could not name as the Miko continued. "A creature attacked me as I was returning home. Tomioka says he is a swordsman whose occupation --"
“I know what he is, girl,” the Priestess snapped at her student before she turned those beady eyes to him. “A member of the Demon Slayer Corps will always be welcome at this Shrine – particularly one as esteemed as yourself.” 
The Water Pillar straightened at the old woman’s casual mention of the Corps. “I was not aware that of any Shrines so affiliated with the Corps.” 
“There was a time when the Demon Slayer Corps would partner with shrines such as this to carry out its mission,” the Priestess replied evenly. From his periphery, Giyuu spotted Y/N’s head snap toward her mentor, her jaw slack. “Once, priestesses were akin to shamans who offered a variety of rituals for cleansing and protection. You slayers relied on our connection with our communities to operate more effectively, and we in turn, counted on your protection to fight what we could not.”
Despite the distinct scent of sake that clung to the elderly shrine keeper like a cloud, her eyes remained sharp and fixed upon him, and her wrinkled mouth pulled into a rueful smile. “Now, it seems, our wise and benevolent government has forced us both to retreat to the shadows to operate in secret.”
She bowed her head. “You have nothing but my respect, Lord Hashira. You are always welcome here.” 
Giyuu did not respond, but he inclined his head toward the Priestess in polite acknowledgement. 
Y/N gaped at her Master. "Lord --?"
The old woman poured another generous serving of sake and brought the choko to her lips. “Though we are honored by your visit, young Lord, I’m afraid your presence is nothing more than a calculated effort by this one,” she nodded pointedly at the young shrine maiden at his side, whose cheeks pinkened. “To keep herself out of trouble. My apprentice was not permitted to leave the grounds, you see.” 
“Oh hush you old drunk,” Giyuu’s eyes snapped to the irate Miko in surprise. “I told you earlier I was going to the village market –” 
“Telling me while I am in the middle of lessons with the younger girls and sprinting off before I can respond is hardly me giving you permission,” the Priestess’s mouth curled into a sneer. “You’ve defied me for the last time, girl.” 
The old Priestess turned away from her apprentice, dismissive. “You will take the rice bundles and hang them in the drying shed – every last one, for the next three days.” 
“You hag!” Y/N fumed, her face pinched in outrage. “I was on rice duty all last week without an ounce of assistance –” 
“And you apparently have yet to learn your lesson,” the old woman retorted bitterly, shooting the seething Shrine Maiden a withering glare. “Considering you still think it seemly to mouth off at any and every opportunity –” 
The Miko spat a curse at the elder Priestess so filthy and colorful that even Giyuu could not mask his surprise, raising his eyebrow. But if Y/N’s outburst shocked the Shrine’s head, the old woman gave no sign. Instead, she only glowered at the young woman as the latter turned and shoved the shoji door harshly to the side. Giyuu, ever the unwilling observer, was left to be pulled by his wrist back into the hall behind the young Miko before she whipped around to face her senior once more. 
Giyuu had thought himself stunned by the crassness of the Shrine Miaden’s language before, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the obscene gesture she made at the old woman before she slammed the door firmly shut. 
A telling crash on the other side of the wall signaled the Elder Priestess had hurled her empty sake dish at the door with all her might. “And work on your aim!” Y/N snapped before turning sharply on her heel to stomp out of the honden, tugging the Water Pillar helplessly behind her. 
“She seems unstable.” said Giyuu once they were a safe distance away from the main Honden. 
Y/N brushed aside his concern with a flippant waive of her hand. “Granny is harmless. As her charge, I suppose I instigate her nearly as much as she torments me.” 
Granny. It made sense, then, the curious affection the girl held for the rancorous head Priestess, even if he could not bring himself to fully understand it. 
“You are more than welcome to stay the night,” the Miko’s mood lightened considerably the more she put distance between herself and the drunken head Priestess. “We serve breakfast at sunrise, but of course, you’re not obligated to attend.” 
The ravenette’s mouth quirked down in a faint grimace, the only sign of his discomfort. “I should return to my own home.” 
“It’s quite late,” Y/N glanced up at the night sky, now awash with stars that surrounded the fat, glowing moon like thousands of glittering jewels. She turned back to him with a radiant grin. “At least allow me to show you around.”
If anyone had asked him, Giyuu Tomioka would not have been able to explain the series of events that had led him here. 
He distinctly remembered telling the vexatious young Shrine Maiden no, that he could not stay the night, yet somehow he’d found himself in the Shrine’s old, musty guest house, already prepared for his stay, a lantern flickering merrily in the corner. 
He glanced warily at the fresh sleeping kimono folded beside his futon. The possibility of him actually sleeping in such an unfamiliar place was nil and while the Water Pillar certainly had no issue in appearing impolite to others, he thought that perhaps the Shrine was affiliated with the connection of Wisteria Houses dotted throughout the land, and he didn’t want to risk offending the head Priestess and cause her to shut her gates to other slayers in need of lodging. 
So, Giyuu paced the floor of the small guest house, restless. Though his eyes remained carefully trained on the window of his room, waiting for the slightest hint of movement that would give him an excuse to leave without offending his hosts, no sign of either his crow or any demonic threat  manifested. Though, he supposed with a frown, it shouldn’t surprise him that he’d not heard from Kanzaburo; the ancient bird was likely flitting about the forest, lost.
He continued to pace until finally, the sky in the East began to lighten signaling that dawn was fast approaching. Stealthily, he slipped out of the small hut that had served as his temporary accommodations and made his way toward the Torii under which he and that Miko — Y/N — had passed upon their arrival.
He’d almost cleared the gate when he saw the elder Priestess standing beside the Torii, apparently waiting for him. Giyuu nodded his head at her, the only expression of courtesy he was willing to give, but he was halted as the old woman flung out a single arm in front of him, her hand flat and palm turned up, waiting.
And that was how Giyuu learned the Shrine was not, in fact, a Wisteria House; not as he was forced to fork over a considerable sum of his earnings into the Priestess’s expectant hand. 
Wisteria Houses meant Corps Members stayed free of charge; the price the Shrine’s keeper demanded in exchange for his brief stay bordered extortion.
At least he’d had the money; if he’d been of any lower rank, the old woman would have cleaned him out.  
He scowled as he departed but his irritation quickly fell away as he finally laid eyes on Kanzaburo, who nearly collided with his Master’s head as he struggled to pant out his orders. 
And so, as the Water Pillar trekked through the forest and toward his new assignment, the view of the Shrine faded behind the dense canopy of the mountain forest, and so too, did any final, sparing thoughts of it, or its inhabitants.
———-
Nearly a month passed since Giyuu stumbled across the strange shrine maiden in the forest separating his Estate from the old Shrine, and the Miko had nearly faded from his memory. Not that such a feat was difficult; the raven-haired Pillar’s mind was far more occupied with tasks like patrol and chasing down leads that could potentially lead the Corps to an Upper Rank demon to focus on much else. 
He’d intended only to find a decent meal and then depart the village before nightfall to investigate rumors of women disappearing in a small town to the south. Night was rapidly approaching, however, and he’d yet to find any vendor that sold anything he liked, much to his chagrin. He was about to cut his losses and continue on, when he spied a familiar blur of white and red idly perusing one of the stalls, apparently oblivious to the impending sunset. 
Without thought, his feet carried him toward her, his annoyance sparking to life. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
The Miko’s – Y/N’s – head turned back and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Pillar standing behind her. 
“Tomioka-sama,” she greeted with a polite bow. “I did not expect to see you so soon.” 
He ignored her greeting, choosing instead to take a step closer. “I asked what you were doing.” 
If she was taken aback by his terseness, she didn’t show it. “I am returning to my shrine after an afternoon of errands,” she replied smoothly. “As is usual for me.” 
“It is nearly dark.” 
“An astute observation,” and to his annoyance, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye. “Do you also know that tonight is also a full moon?” 
Said moon had already made an appearance above them, growing brighter and brighter as the sky faded from twilight to night. 
Giyuu had never been one for rolling his eyes, but the young woman’s knowing smirk grated at something inside him, made him feel as he often did whenever Kocho would make a sly comment with that smile of hers, that for some reason made him feel like he was the butt of some joke only she knew. 
He grimaced. Teasing; that’s what the shrine maiden was doing. She was teasing him. 
“It is nearly dark,” he repeated. “And I did not think you’d be naive enough to risk traveling after sunset.” 
“I believe it was you who insisted I did not have to ignore my duties, so long as I paid attention to my surroundings.” She replied coolly. “So that is exactly what I am doing.”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Fine. If the stubborn girl wanted to be bait for whatever awaited her in the forest once the sun finally set, then that was her choice. He’d saved her once, and he’d given her sufficient warning; what she did from then on did not concern him. 
He was about to bade her farewell when a slurred, boisterous voice boomed her name from across the market. Several heads turned toward the source, including Giyuu's, until he found a round faced, piggish man stumbling away from a sake stand, his cheeks flushed a bright red.
The man repeated the Miko's name in that grating, sing-song voice of his. "Whe're you goin' all by yourself so late?"
He didn't know what possessed him to ask, but Tomioka turned to the shrine maiden. "A friend?"
“His name is Susumo,” she said airily, though she could not conceal her scowl as the man drew closer. “He’s merely the village drunk who forgets to keep his hands to himself.”
The shrine maiden’s eyes narrowed accusingly at the villager, and the Miko remarked, in a raised voice, “And he is not welcome at the Shrine, though he pretends to forget otherwise.”
Susumo only held his hands up, as though in surrender. “You can’t blame a man for wanting to know what lies under all those layers,” and as if the implication of his lechery wasn’t clear enough, he gave the Miko a leering once-over. “Can’t say I was disappointed.” 
“But your friend is right,” he slurred, a smirk forming on his lips. “The dark is too dangerous for a pretty thing like you to risk walking back alone —“
“I shall escort her,” Tomioka said abruptly and she whipped back to him, her mouth falling open. “After all, I’m welcome at the Shrine.” 
Susumo, too, gaped at the Swordsman. The Miko recovered quickly however, unwilling to allow the opportunity to pass or for the Slayer to suddenly come to his senses and realize he’d rather leave her to fend for herself in the forest. 
“You have my gratitude, Tomioka-sama,” and she gave him a small bow of her head. Relieved, she flipped her braid over her shoulder and smiled warmly up at her raven-haired companion. “Shall we?”
She did not wait for Tomioka to answer, nor did she give any further acknowledgment to Susumo, who only continued to stare at the Hashira, his face bright red. With a feigned indifference, she breezed past him, but a sudden yelp from behind caused her to snap back in alarm. 
The first thing she noticed was the proximity of the back of a dual-patterned haori as it stood between her and the village drunkard. The Water Pillar’s shroud nearly brushed the tip of her nose, forcing her to step back. Cautiously, she peered around Tomioka’s rigid form, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. 
Susumo, it appeared, had tried to grab her, only to be cut off by the Water Pillar himself, who snatched him by his wrist. Though it did not appear that Tomioka was using a great deal of effort to restrain him, it was clear Susumo was struggling — greatly so — against the ferocity of the Slayer’s hold, given how a vein bulged in his forehead, his face,  rapidly turning purple. 
Her gaze flicked to the Swordsman’s hand, and she felt herself blanch at the odd angle of Susumo’s wrist. 
She was no doctor, but she knew wrists weren’t meant to twist as his did in Tomioka’s crushing grip. 
“Leave.” the Water Pillar ordered coldly, and there was a darkness in his eyes that matched the brutality of his hold. “Your presence is unnecessary and unwanted.”
“Y-you! Susumo sputtered.
But Tomioka’s grip only tightened. “Now.”
And then he released him, Susumo half-stumbling back from the Swordsman. His eyes were wide with both fear and loathing, and he muttered incoherently under his breath as he massaged his rapidly-swelling wrist.
The Water Pillar, however, did not pay any more attention to the red-faced villager. He turned only to the shrine maiden, who remained frozen in place, her eyes wide. "Shall we?"
Numbly, Y/N nodded and the two set off down the path that led back to the Shrine. Dimly, the Miko noted that the Slayer kept noticeably close to her as they walked, as though he was unwilling to let her wander too far away. The air between them as they traveled was thick and tense. She was on edge enough thanks to Susumo and his oily words, and she was desperate to do anything to distract herself from the buzzing mounting under her skin. 
She cast a sly, sidelong glance at the Swordsman walking at her side. He’d not been receptive to her small-talk the last time he’d escorted her back to her Shrine, but saying something — anything — would be better than this stifling quiet threatening to choke her.
“How old are you?” Before the Swordsman could decide whether to answer, she continued on. “If I had to guess, I would suspect you’re around my age, and I just passed my nineteenth birthday.”
She hummed aloud. “You seem quite young, yet you’ve achieved some level of status as a swordsman, according to Granny.” Her eyes fell to the blade secured at his hip before she lifted them back to his profile. “Yet you’re as withdrawn and taciturn as an old man.” 
Her words, thankfully, seemed to irritate him into responding. “Are you always so forthright?”  
The Miko grinned. “Perhaps I am like you, Lord – what was it? Hashiba?”
“Hashira.” 
“Yes, that. Perhaps I am like you, Lord Hashira – utterly lacking in social ability.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she brushed her shoulder against his bicep. “But at least I make up for it by talking.” 
“Talking is a distraction,” Tomioka monotoned, his eyes fixed resolutely on the hidden path of the forest before them. “It only serves as an interference to one’s duties.” He looked pointedly at the Miko’s profile, but inexplicably found himself unable to look away. “Or an excuse to ignore them.” 
But she was unflappable. “And yet you are the one who decided to escort me all the way back to my Shrine – so who is the one ignoring their duties, Tomioka-sama?” 
“I think you enjoy diverting my attention,” the Water Pillar retorted, though Y/N could see the rising annoyance in his eyes. 
She felt his gaze bear into her as she flipped her loose hair behind her shoulder. “It’s not possible to distract someone unless they find the diversion in question captivating, Tomioka-sama.” 
The Water Pillar almost looked amused. “And you are certainly that, Y/N.” 
The Miko ducked her head to avoid that piercing gaze, so that the ravenette would not see the faint rosy blush creeping across her cheeks. “I did not think you had the constitution for teasing, Lord Hashira.” 
Tomioka looked at her fully then, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do not jest.” He hesitated for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as he scrutinized her. “Nor do I lie.” 
Y/N’s lips parted. There was something about the way the Swordsman beheld her that made her stomach flutter. In her last encounter with the enigmatic Slayer, she’d been so rattled by her close encounter with the demon, that she hadn’t truly noticed much about the man who’d saved her life, apart from his bland detachment and rather unfortunate social skills. 
But now, the Miko was struck by how handsome the raven-haired Hashira was; she was mesmerized by the deep azure of his eyes, as vast and deep as the sea. His skin was a delicate alabaster, and, contrasted with the flesh of his hands which were calloused and scarred, his face had not a blemish in sight.
She blinked, clearing away some of the fog that had crept into her mind, put there by the vexatious Slayer. “I must return to my duties,” she said softly.
They spent the remainder of their journey back to the Shrine in silence. She was quick to break away from him the moment they passed under the Torii, though not before she muttered that he was welcome to stay, should he so choose.
She busied herself with her duties, but even the neediest obligations could not fully distract her from feeling the burning heat of his stare as the Water Pillar’s watched her fiercely from across the courtyard. And nothing, nothing at all could have prepared her for how he eventually  joined her in carrying out her duties, 
The Water Pillar stayed the night once more, departing sharply at daybreak. Later, as Y/N swept the courtyard free of loose brush and clutter long after his departure, she noticed a crow sitting high in a tree, its black eyes watching her every movement. Though its gaze was sharp, the presence of the great, sleek bird did not disturb her, though not as much of a feather twitched from its perch upon the branch as the Miko continued through her day. 
As she’d readied for bed later that night, she realized she’d felt oddly comforted by the crow. She imagined it a silent protector, a new guardian of the Shrine, no different than the statues of the gods which dotted its grounds. 
She settled into her futon with a great yawn, the image of a certain dark-haired Swordsman flickering in the back of her conscience until she was swept into sleep’s sweet embrace.
Just outside the Shrine’s sleeping quarters, the bird remained, eyes carefully tracking every shift in the shadows, waiting. 
And then the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, and the threat of night receded once more.
But the crow remained. 
———
Spring, 1915
The crow became a permanent fixture at the Shrine, though it always seemed to keep strictly to a single tree at the edge of the property, one that gave it a full view of the courtyard and structures surrounding the main honden.
Despite the bird's constant presence, more than a month passed before the Water Pillar returned, though he'd seemed even more sullen and withdrawn than he'd been during their previous two encounters. Y/N did not consider herself a friend to Tomioka by any means, but she was the only one brave enough to approach him as he'd lingered by the Torii, apparently unsure whether he should seek out their hospitality or return to the forest.
"You are welcome to come and sit for a hot meal," she called cordially, though she maintained a tentative distance. She frowned when he did not respond. Instead, the Water Pillar continued to stare unseeingly at the cracked stone path leading to the Shrine's courtyard.
"Tomioka-sama?" She pressed gently and the Swordsman's attention finally snapped to her, as though he'd just become aware of her presence.
The haunted look in his eyes sent a chill up her spine. The Miko cast one, cautious glance up at the sky, and her eyes narrowed at the wall of black clouds steadily rolling in from the east. A shift in the wind brought forth the distinct, metallic scent of rain, and if she listened hard enough, she swore she could hear the distant rumbles of thunder. “You know, there will be a storm tonight — please consider waiting it out here, where it’s safe.”
Tomioka only stared at her for a moment before he nodded. His hand twitched into a vague gesture inviting her to lead the way, and Y/N escorted him to the Shrine's elder, in search of her permission.
Granny Priestess agreed to let him stay, but on the condition he paid for his imposition. The Water Pillar had silently agreed, producing one small money bag from his pocket and placing it squarely in the Priestess’s outstretched, waiting hand. 
The heft of the bag had made Y/N frown; it seemed a great sum in comparison to their meager lodging offerings, but the Swordsman did not object, so she held her tongue. To comment would only serve to irritate her Master, and the old hag was scornful enough to assign her to duties that would isolate her from the raven-haired Slayer.
Only after the old Priestess sauntered off, leaving behind nothing but the lingering, bitter stench of sake, did the Miko speak again. 
“I’m glad to see you in good health, Tomioka-sama,” she bowed, though she thought she spied the corner of his mouth twitch down at her formal greeting. “I trust your patrol went smoothly?” 
The Water Pillar’s expression was tight; dark. “It did not. The demon I was tracking managed to get away.” His jaw clenched tight. “But not before it slaughtered an entire family in the mountains.” 
All at once, the world around her seemed to slow. It had been easy to assume the dark-haired Swordsman before her always managed to find his target just in time, before it could slaughter its victim. Now, as she beheld the lethal coldness that had settled over his features, Y/N knew her assumptions had been wrong. 
Perhaps, she noted with a shudder, her rescue had been the exception and not the rule. 
Beneath the icy stoicism limning the Water Pillar’s eyes, the shrine maiden noted a distinct heaviness that weighed down his shoulders; made them curl slightly forward, defeated.
She resisted the urge to reach out to him, in comfort. “I won’t offer you empty platitudes,” she murmured. “But I can invite you to offer your prayers for those who were lost.” 
He looked at her, brows drawn, and she knew his instinct was to decline, so she added, “I will do it regardless of whether you join me.”
All at once, any protest he had was snuffed out within him. Instead, he was left with a curious softness as he regarded the shrine maiden, so assured and earnest in her invitation. 
He didn’t know why he’d sought out the Shrine.
He’s been angry; angry at himself for not being faster, for allowing innocent people to die on his account of his failure.
He still felt angry. Yet, as he followed Y/N into the Shrine’s haiden to light incense, he also felt a solemn gratitude for the Miko, who’d not let him indulge in his self-loathing but instead requested he act, and act with her. 
So he had; and somehow, the weight on his chest, the one that threatened to suffocate him, lightened bit by bit until Giyuu felt like he could breathe once more. 
Later that night, Giyuu spotted the shrine maiden from his window as she darted around the courtyard to light the tōrō to illuminate the Shrine grounds. A deep rumble of thunder, however, signaled the spring storm had finally arrived. Y/N, however, only continued with her task, huddling over herself to strike the matches needed to finish lighting the lanterns as rain began to dampen the landscape around her.
He was about to go outside and demand she return to the warm, dry haven that was the girls’ sleeping quarters lest she catch a cold, but then the last of the lanterns were lit and the shrine maiden straightened.
And then she tilted her face up toward the sky, allowing the rain to wash over her. 
And she grinned. And Giyuu was mesmerized; so much so, that he had not stopped staring at where she’d stood, laughing in the rain, even long after the Miko retired to bed.
-
Y/N awoke well before sunrise the following morning and spent hours laboring over the hot stoves in the kitchen. By the time the sky finally lightened, she'd only just finished her task and was in the process of boxing up her creation when she spotted one of her fellow shrine maidens passing by the entryway.
The Miko called out her name. "Has Lord Tomioka awoken yet?"
Her sister trainee lingered in the doorway. "Oh yes, he's been up for a while," and the girl looked back over her shoulder. “But he is already on his way out —“
The Miko swore viciously under her breath as she slammed a lid atop the small bento and hastily wrapped it in the small cloth she’d swiped from the laundry. 
“Move,” she barked at a small group of trainees that had gathered in the hallway outside the kitchen. The girls flattened themselves against the wall as Y/N sped by. She hurtled up the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste. Just as she burst into the courtyard from the honden, panting and winded, she spotted him.
“Tomioka-sama!” Y/N called, hurrying after the retreating form of the Water Pillar before he could pass through the shrine gates. “I have something for you!” 
The raven-haired slayer turned back to her, his face neutral, though Y/N could tell, by the slightest raise of his brow, that she’d piqued his interest. 
“Thank goodness you hadn’t left yet,” the Miko said brightly, holding out a small bundle wrapped in furoshiki cloth. “I was worried this wouldn’t be ready before you did.”
Tomioka’s eyes dropped to the parcel in her hands. “What is it?” 
Y/N motioned for him to take it, and to her slight surprise he did, holding it slightly in front of him as though it were liable to burst open. “A meal for the road. Granny and I prepared it this morning — as thanks, for everything you’ve done.” 
But the Water Pillar was already shaking his head, trying to press the package back into the shrine maiden’s hands. “I need no thanks; I do my job, and your shrine happens to be part of it.” 
If his words disappointed her, Y/N did not show it. “And yet we are grateful all the same,” she said firmly, arms crossing in front of her chest to avoid taking the small bento back. “Besides, it’s salmon; it will only go bad if you don’t eat it.” 
Had she not been watching him, Y/N would have missed the slight widening of his eyes, or the way his hand twitched back towards himself, bringing the packed lunch closer to him. 
Cerulean eyes watched her for a long moment, before dropping as Tomioka tucked the bento into his pocket. 
“Thank you,” was all he said before he turned away and continued through the gates of the shrine, setting off on the path which would lead him through the forest. 
If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve sworn the Water Pillar looked happy as he departed. 
———
The Slayer returned exactly one week after she’d given him the home-cooked salmon – but he did not return empty-handed. For there, wrapped in the same furoshiki cloth, was a strange, oblong object, sitting in the palm of his hand though if he thought it heavy, Tomioka gave no indication. 
“What’s this?” Y/N leaned curiously over the Pillar’s outstretched hand and squinted, trying to discern what the cloth could have been concealing. 
Tomioka pushed his hand toward her, beseeching her to take the parcel from him. “A knife.” 
The Shrine Maiden looked up at him in alarm, pulling away from the Water Pillar. “Why on earth would I need a knife?” 
He rolled his eyes. “Protection.” 
“From what?” The Miko wrinkled her nose down at his offering, though there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “As I recall, I walloped you just fine with my broom.”
Tomioka shot her a dull look. “Be that as it may, cleaning tools are useless against demons. Without the sun, the only thing that works against them is decapitation with this — its metal is unique.” 
He parted the folds of the cloth to reveal a simple blade, though Y/N found it daunting all the same. The hilt was basic, an unembellished metal handle wrapped in plain black leather. The blade itself was an unassuming silver, slightly longer than her hand. 
The Slayer motioned for her to take it, though she only shrunk away. “You know how to use one, yes?” 
The Miko’s eyes met his, wide and anxious. “For domestic uses, of course, but not –” 
Tomioka’s fingers closed around her wrist and lifted, guiding her hand toward the dagger. His hand moved to cover hers, wrapping them both around the hilt of the blade before squeezing. “Grip it like this,” he held their joined hands up for her to inspect. “Keep your hand in a fist; do not lift your fingers away from the grip – that’s the best way to injure yourself instead of your target.” 
But the shrine maiden could hardly focus on the Pillar’s instructions. Her attention was directed entirely at the way her hand was swallowed by his, his skin warm and his grasp firm. She studied how his calluses – thick and forged from years of brutal sword training – pressed against hers; how, despite the roughness of his fingers and palms, and his solid hold still remained gentle. 
“-- and thrust like this,” he remained oblivious to her distraction as moved her arm in a sharp jab, a second and then a third time, before dropping her hand.  “Now do it yourself.” 
His command startled her out of her trance, a heat creeping up her neck from beneath the collar of her kosode. She held out the blade awkwardly before her as scrambled to recall the Water Pillar’s words. To her dismay, all she was able to conjure was the memory of his touch, and how cold she suddenly felt without it. 
Lamely, she mimed jutting the knife at an invisible enemy, the blade gracelessly wobbling through the air. Though she was by no means a swordsman, even she knew something was off, her movements disjointed and clumsy.
She glanced shyly back to the raven-haired Demon Slayer and deflated as she was met only with bemused resignation.
Tomioka shook his head in disdain. “Perhaps you would fare better with a broom.” 
The Miko bristled. “I am not a swordsman —“
“You’ve made that abundantly apparent.” 
“— and I do not have the basics you seem to take for granted.” She finished, glaring indignantly at her raven-haired companion. “So teach me.”
The Water Pillar considered her for a moment before he gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod of his head. 
“Watch me.” He turned his body toward the Miko and mimed getting into a defensive stance — feet ajar, his weight evenly distributed on each leg, and bent. 
He looked back to the Shrine Maiden expectantly, and she parroted his movements, crouching into what she imagined was the perfect mirror of his position.
It wasn’t.
“No — you need to—“ Tomioka straightened and huffed, impatient. He moved quickly behind her, and without thinking, his hands shot to grip her hips to guide them into the proper stance, until her weight was evenly distributed on both feet. 
“Like that — now bend your knees.” The ravenette pushed down on her hips until her legs bent, apparently oblivious to the way the Miko flushed crimson.
He was close; far, far too close. She’d never been touched the way the Water Pillar touched her. Tomioka’s hands were twin brands, burning her skin even through the layers of her shrine attire, and it sent every nerve beneath her skin buzzing.
She was aware of every inch of him pressed against her; of his arms, caging her in, his hands twin brands against her hips as he turned and pulled her into the proper stance. She was aware of how warm he was, of how formidable his presence felt, even though to her, he posed no threat. Every movement of his was precise and fluid, like the water he’d claimed to style his techniques after.
And if his touch wasn’t distracting enough, his scent threatened to overwhelm every last bit of sense she’d clung onto. Y/N didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed how good he smelled — like mahogany and citrus — so rich and so warm; a stark contrast to his otherwise cold and aloof nature mask.
The swordsman, however, appeared to remain oblivious. “There,” he finally said, having satisfied that she’d achieved proper form. For moment, the two of them lingered there, with Tomioka’s chest against the shrine maiden’s back, his hands remaining steady in place on her hips. It was as though they’d frozen: Y/N, out of a mixture of shock and red-cheeked embarrassment, and Tomioka out of utter cluelessness.
Another beat passed before the Water Pillar finally realized the compromising nature of their position. His hands dropped quickly from her hips, and there was a rush of air at Y/N’s back as he swiftly stepped away, putting distance between them once more. 
The raven-haired Slayer gruffly cleared his throat. “You should also keep wisteria on you.” And Y/N gulped down her embarrassment to turn back toward him. 
Tomioka kept his face neutral and cool, but the tips of his ears had turned pink. “Check your perfumes for it or ask one of the other shrine girls if you can borrow theirs – oil would be better. More concentrated”
Any residual awkwardness that may have lingered fell quickly away. The Miko only stared blankly at him, her head tilted slightly to the side as her eyebrows pinched together. “Perfume?”
Tomioka blinked. “Yes. As all women have.” 
It was an effort to fight off the smile twitching at the corners of her lips. “Exactly how many women do you know, Tomioka-sama? Such that you would know their perfumery habits, that is.” 
His mouth thinned into a firm line. “Enough.” 
And though Y/N supposed he’d meant to sound self-assured and confident, the Slayer was betrayed by the slight doubt in his voice, as though he’d been questioning his own answer. 
The shrine maiden only continued to look at him, her eyebrow slightly raised, amused. The longer the silence stretched between them,the more awkward the ravenette grew, his discomfort plain from the way he shifted under her stare. 
“You seem like someone who would use it.” He finally offered, after another moment of quiet.
It was her turn to blink, taken aback. Her smirk quickly slid from her face and with a grimace, she felt her right eye twitch, ever so slightly. “Apologies, then, for disappointing you.” 
Tomioka frowned and he made like he was going to respond, but the Miko squared her shoulders and stalked briskly past him. 
“I must return to my duties, and I’m sure you need to do the same,” she paused in the doorway of the garden hut and cast one, sidelong glance back to where he stood, clueless. “Until next time, Tomioka-sama. Thank you for the blade.”
With that, the Miko paced briskly away from the garden hut, her spine stiff. The Water Pillar remained in place for a moment, stupefied, before he collected himself once more, before setting off back toward the forest; to his Manor.
And as Giyuu retreated through the rusting Torii gate, he could not quite shake the distinct impression he’d done something wrong, though he knew not what. 
The Water Pillar returned the following week, though to a decidedly cooler greeting than that which he’d steadily grown accustomed to receiving. 
That wasn’t entirely true — the majority of the Shrine’s residents had welcomed him warmly, their kindness always far more than he thought he deserved. Only one hadn’t greeted him as enthusiastically as the others, and to his annoyance, that one was the only person whose opinion of him mattered, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why.
She hardly stopped to acknowledge his arrival, only gracing him with a brisk nod, though she’d refused to meet his eyes. Bemused, Giyuu followed her across the courtyard as she made her way to the Shrine’s small storeroom. He leaned against the doorway and watched as the Miko began pulling jars of dried herbs from the rickety shelves lining the walls and stacked them on a sizeable work counter that cut halfway across the room. All the while, she continued pointedly ignoring him, humming lightly under her breath as though she could not see or hear him as he shifted against the doorframe, waiting.
Her obstinate silence grated at him. “May I assist you?”
“No, no, I am perfectly fine, thank you.” She turned away to browse the shelves once more, before finding what she needed: a stone mortar and pestle.
The grinder settled against the wooden counter with a heavy thud and the shrine maiden snatched up one of the jars she’d stacked and dumped its contents into the bowl, followed by another bottle of herbs. Pestle in hand, she set to work grinding the leaves together, mixing in a vial of fragrant oil she’d kept in her pocket to create a thick paste.
Giyuu watched her quietly as she worked. “You’re…” he frowned. “You’re behaving strangely.”
Y/N glanced up at him. “In what way?” 
“You’re trying to avoid me.” 
“Am I?” She straightened, rolling her shoulders. “Only because I’ve not yet bathed today. I didn’t want to risk offending you with my stench.” 
Giyuu paused. “Why would that matter?” 
“You made sure to point out you thought I needed perfume during your last visit.” 
He pushed off the doorframe, eyebrows knit together. “For protection.” 
The shrine maiden rolled her eyes. “Yes, and apparently, because you believe I am the type to need it.” When Giyuu only continued to stare at her with that same, mildly lost expression, Y/N groaned, exasperated. “You implied I stink.” 
The Water Pillar’s jaw slackened as he gaped at her. “That is not –” 
“It is what you implied,” she repeated, turning away from him to focus on her task of grinding herbs, though the force with which she ground the pestle was perhaps greater than necessary.
Giyuu rounded the small countertop of the Shrine’s storeroom to face her head-on. “I like how you smell.” He insisted. “It’s nice.” 
The Miko’s irritated churning of the stone paused and her eyes finally lifted to his. For a long moment, she watched him, head slightly cocked. 
“You are very odd, Tomioka-sama.” 
But she said it with a small smile that he almost wanted to return. 
Before long, things between them returned to normal once more, with the Miko directing him to collect her gathering basket from where she’d left it in the Shrine’s infirmary and bring it to her. Once he returned, he helped her grind charcoal to make incense sticks as she chatted happily away. 
Surprisingly, Giyuu found himself not only engaged in her musings about daily life at the Shrine, but offering her small personal anecdotes of his own, though he was not nearly as proficient as she when it came to story-telling.  
Once the sun began setting once more, and he received no new orders from Headquarters, he simply sought out the Shrine’s head Priestess and silently passed her a small money bag. 
And then Giyuu retired to the guest’s quarters for the night. 
—--
As spring warmed into summer, the Water Pillar began making bi-weekly visits to the Shrine that quickly melted into habit; expectation. Once a fortnight, a thrill would settle over the young maidens in anticipation of the arrival of the stoic yet handsome Slayer, with girls of all ages eagerly looking toward the Shrine gates in hopes of spying him the moment he crossed beneath the Torii. The elder employees of the Shrine had learned to time Tomioka’s arrival by listening for their excited gasps, exhaled as a collective as brooms and rices sacks were dropped where their handlers stood, the girls far too interested in rushing to greet the exalted Slayer than they were in completing their tasks. 
“I do not see the reason for such excitement,” she sniffed, though even she wasn’t stupid enough to think her fellow trainees bought her bluff. “He is only a swordsman.” 
“A handsome one,” a wispy trainee named Miyoko sighed dreamily. “And no doubt strong and capable.”
The group of maidens dissolved into another fit of giggles, concealing their blushes behind their hands.
“His face is attractive, but his hair is odd,” another commented. “It looks like he’s hacked at it with his own blade.” 
“Oh, who cares about his hair? I’m far more interested in what’s beneath that uniform —“
“Enough,” Y/N snapped. While her friendship with the Water Pillar was tenuous  at best, the suggestive way her sisters-in-training spoke of him left her feeling decidedly discomforted.
Though, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she, too, wondered whether Tomioka’s strength was the product of a finely-hewn tuned physique. But she wasn’t, so she bottled that thought up and tucked it tightly away, where it belonged. 
Slowly, her cohorts all turned to look at her.
“You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister,” Miyoko directed at Y/N, who felt her cheeks heat. “Is there anything you’d like to share?”
“Tomioka-sama always asks where Sister Y/N is, the moment he arrives!” A tiny voice chimed, and Y/N’s eyes slid shut in an effort to fight off a wince.  “Sometimes they even do chores by themselves!”
Komatsu. At only ten, she was the Shrine’s youngest trainee, and followed Y/N around like a shadow. Not that the shrine maiden minded all that much; she tended to spoil the girl a bit, when she could. But as pure as the girl’s intentions surely were, she’d yet to lose that childlike earnestness that made her prone to revealing information that Y/N rather remained a secret. 
“Alone with a man?” Miyoko repeated, her eyes shining with malicious glee. “How scandalous — even for someone without a family to embarass, dear Y/N.”
“Careful, Miyoko,” she warned softly. “Don’t go speaking on matters of which you know nothing.” 
“Or what? What would you do?” 
As fond as Y/N was of her sisters-in-training, one did not make it through the Shrine’s rigorous education and training without learning how to trade in the kind of currency young women valued most.
Information; specifically, gossip. 
So the shrine maiden only leveled Miyoko’s own smug smirk with one of her own. “Or I shall tell Granny how you spend your afternoons kissing the boys from the village, rather than tending to your lessons.” 
The other girls gasped, their stares turning back to the gossiping shrine maiden. She savored how quickly the girl’s prideful grin slipped from her face as the weight of the threat settled. 
While Y/N, parentless and thus without anyone to truly care about her propriety, was being primed to take over Granny Priestess’s position overseeing the shrine, her position was unique. She was parentless and thus, without anyone to truly care about her propriety or whatever other ridiculous expectations of modesty that were often attached to other young women her age. In being no one, Y/N was relatively free to do as she pleased, and that freedom almost made up for her lack of belonging.
But the other girls residing at the Shrine were different. Families across the region sent their daughters to the Shrine for training, not only in their cultural practices and arts, but also for education; to become well-rounded women who would then serve to be valuable marriage prospects once they returned home. 
Scandal would not affect her; but it would affect someone like Miyoko.
“How do you think your parents would feel, to know their heir was behaving so brazenly in public? Risking her reputation on the marriage market before she’s even entered it?”
Truthfully, she liked Miyoko; had gotten along well with her, in fact. But she would not risk those sacred few moments she spent with the Water Pillar in an effort to keep the peace with another trainee. Not when those few instances she spent in his company were the only times she’d felt connection — true, human connection and belonging. 
Her sister-in-training ruefully fell silent, and Y/N savored her victory. Later, when she was left with nothing but the company of her own thoughts, however, the exchange played back in her mind.
In all her posturing, she’d managed to avoid having to answer for Miyoko’s lofty observation. 
You seem to spend a great deal of time with him, Sister. 
She did; and, to her slight horror, she realized that she had no interest in stopping. 
She only wanted more.
It was past dawn when Giyuu trudged under the great Torii gate of the Shrine, exhausted and aching. 
It had been a long while since a demon was last capable of wounding him, but he’d been blown backward by a delayed attack that hit after he’d beheaded the damn thing. As a result, he’d been sent flying back, slamming through a dilapidated wall of the abandoned hut he’d tracked the creature to, resulting in a sizeable gash to his shoulder. 
He grit his teeth in mild annoyance. He would need some treatment of his wounds — not that they were deep by any means, but they were substantial enough that he knew infection could spell trouble for him, should it spread. 
Some small, irate voice in his head snidely reminded him he could have just as easily gone to the Butterfly Mansion for treatment — that, in fact, the Insect Pillar’s estate had been much closer to the location of his mission than the Shrine had been. He’d rationed that, as much as he admired and respected Kocho, he was still a bit raw from her mocking about how unliked he truly was among his comrades. 
Besides, he groused. Kocho was not the one he really wanted to see, anyway. 
He found Y/N in the Shrine’s storeroom, seated upon the floor with a detailed ledger spread out before her as she took inventory of various scrolls and texts.
Giyuu did not bother to announce himself. “You have medical training, do you not?”  
The Miko startled, the charcoal stick she’d been using to tally the ledger clattering to the floor. She blinked up at him in surprise. “Tomioka-sama — welcome, it’s been a few weeks — forgive me, I did not see you come in.” She quickly rose to her feet, shutting the store ledger and tucking it under her arm. 
Her eyes found the blood-stained shoulder of his hair and widened. “I have some; I can stitch and dress wounds —“
He nodded. “Then I require your assistance.” 
—-
Y/N led him to a small office inside the honden that served as the Shrine’s unofficial infirmary.  “Take a seat,” she nodded at a small stool that sat under the room’s solitary window, right by a modest working table. “Let me see what we have.” 
Tomioka sat upon the stool with his back to her as she busied herself sifting through cupboards in search of supplies. “What sort of wound is it?”
She turned back and nearly dropped a tin of medicinal salve she’d located as she beheld the Water Pillar strip himself of his clothing from the waist up. 
There, across his right shoulder blade, she saw it — saw his blood. Quickly, she located thread and a needle and she grabbed a roll of cloth that could double as wrappings and she crossed back across the room.  
She spread her bounty out across the table, right beside the neatly folded pile of his clothing. Silently, she set to work cleaning the gash, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she saw that it was little more than a shallow flesh wound.
“Lucky you, this won’t need stitching,” she said lightly as she wiped away the last of the dried blood from the Water Pillar’s skin. “But I shall need to wrap it so it won’t become infected.”
Tomioka only gave her a curt nod. She stepped back to work open her tin of medical salve, and as she warmed the substance in her hands, she let herself fully examine the Swordsman sitting before her. Her eyes trailed over the sculpted planes of his back. It surprised her how muscular he was, given his leanness. Yet, without the layers of his uniform shirt and haori, she could see he was well-built, each muscle defined. 
She didn’t know why it surprised her that there was a man beneath the mask of the Slayer, but what a man he was. Her mouth went dry at the thought. It was an effort not to allow her eyes to wander lower; to ponder what he might look like under his uniform pants, stripped and fully bare before her — 
“What is that scent?” Tomioka’s sudden question startled her away from her increasingly treacherous thoughts. 
She’d never been more grateful to be facing away from him. That way, he could not see the blush coloring her cheeks as she hastily slathered the salve across his wound. “Anti-septic; I know it’s rather stringent, but — ”
The Water Pillar shook his head. “I know what antiseptic smells like. I mean you. The scent you wear.” 
She pursed her lips for a moment before she recalled the distinctly floral scent of her cleansing oils. “Sakaki blooms, I suppose.”
“What properties does it have — what are its effects on others?” He pressed. She was surprised at how insistent he seemed, and there was almost an urgency in his tone that unsettled her. 
“None, to my knowledge — why do you ask?”
The tips of Tomioka’s ears turned pink and he turned away from her, lips pressed into a firm line. “Forget I said anything.” he muttered after a moment, his shoulders and spine stiff.
Neither one of them spoke again as Y/N finished treating the Water Pillar’s  injury and wrapped it. 
“You're done,” she said after a moment, tapping him lightly on his other shoulder. 
“You have my thanks,” Tomioka quickly refastened the buttons of his uniform shirt as the Miko stepped aside, pointedly wiping her hands clean with a small cloth. She only looked at him once he lifted his haori from where he’d carefully laid it atop the small examination table, but her eyes narrowed as he rose from the stool, shrugging the material back over his shoulders. “I am happy to pay you for the resources you used —“ 
Y/N did not appear to be listening, not as she leaned forward and pinched the sleeve of his haori between her thumb and index finger. 
“You have a tear,” she frowned, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Right here, see?” 
There, on the side bearing his sister’s half of his haori, right where his sleeve met his shoulder, was indeed a small hole, the threads around it broken and shifting slightly in the wind. 
The Miko’s hand fell away, and she squared her shoulders, mouth set in a firm but determined line. “If you’ll give me a moment, I assure you I can have it repaired in no time –” 
“Not necessary,” the Swordsman said abruptly, twisting back from her. “I can figure it out on my own.” He would not part with it, would not so much as let another put their hands on it and risk ruining his most cherished possession. 
Y/N only stepped toward him, ignoring his attempt at distance. “There’s no need to be prideful,” she huffed impatiently. “Truly, it would take no effort at all –”
“No.”
“Why are you being so difficult?” She snapped, but her hands continued reaching for him, for his sleeve – 
Tomioka snatched her wrist mid-air and held it there, halting her. “No one touches this. Understand?” 
Y/N’s lips parted in faint surprise at the Water Pillar’s severity. Her eyes darted to where his fingers were locked tight – uncomfortably tight – around her wrist. When she glanced back at the stone-faced Slayer, she felt a chill lick down her spine. She’d known he could be intimidating against threats, even without saying a word. It was his eyes – his eyes would harden, with the lapiz hue of his irises darkening to something more akin to indigo, as he stared down an opponent. She’d witnessed it the very first night she’d met him. 
She just hadn’t thought she would ever be on the receiving end of such a cold glare. 
“I understand,” she said softly, and she began flexing her wrist against his grip in an effort to work herself free from his hold. “Please forgive my indiscretion, Tomioka-sama. I overstepped.” 
The raven-haired Slayer blinked and quickly let her go, her wrist falling limply back to her side. Just outside the infirmary’s small window, he heard the familiar, urgent cry of a crow.
He’d never been more grateful for a distraction.  “I must be on my way.” His tone was stiff; clipped. 
“But — you’ve only just arrived —“ 
“Farewell, Y/N.” Giyuu gave her a curt nod.
Helplessly, the Miko watched as the Water Pillar stalked out of the small office, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He did not so much as spare a glance back, leaving Y/N to wonder whether she would see that odd patterned haori again.
The thought she might not made something cold and heavy sink into her gut.
—-
(One week later)
It wasn’t often that Giyuu Tomioka found himself annoyed, much less angry. He much preferred channeling his existing emotions into slaying demons, allowing them to taste a fraction of the rage and hatred he felt deep within, a vicious fire he so rarely let bubble up to his service.
Until that evening. After the fiasco that was Mount Natagumo and the subsequent chaos at the Master’s mansion as a result of the Kamado boy and his demon sister, Giyuu had finally noticed that the previous day’s trials had resulted in the tear along the shoulder of his haori that he knew could no longer be ignored. 
He grit his teeth; the battle against the Lower Moon spider demon had hardly required him to exert any energy — yet the demon’s last ditch attempt to preserve its life had managed to enlarge the small hole in his most prized possession, and the Water Pillar was utterly without the skill to repair it. 
So, he’d been forced to sit through the meeting with the Master, the hole in his haori feeling more like a gaping wound that only festered with every passing moment, until finally, finally they’d been dismissed. 
Giyuu hadn’t wasted any time departing swiftly from his Master’s estate, though that hadn’t stopped him from catching the tail end of Shinazugawa’s biting remark of how fuckin’ typical it was for him to leave without so much as a farewell to his comrades. He tried not to let the Wind Pillar’s words get to him; but he was unworthy of their company regardless, so he supposed it really didn’t matter what they thought of him. It shouldn’t. 
And so, that was how Giyuu found himself padding silently along the cracked, stone pathway which led to the Shrine at the edge of his designated territory, ready to eat crow and ask for assistance from a particular Miko whom he felt certain would not hesitate to remind him of how he’d coolly rejected her help only days earlier. 
Hence, his irritation. 
So, his movements stiff and his mouth twisted into a firm grimace, Giyuu stalked under the Torii and into the main courtyard of the old Shrine. It was coming upon midday, though there was a thick cover of clouds overhead that threatened that open up at any moment and shower rain across the region. He ignored the respectful bows of the Shrine’s various inhabitants and staff, eyes sweeping over faces in search of her. 
He located her near the storehouse, chatting with one of her fellow trainees as the pair worked to clean vegetables. Giyuu trudged over to her, eyes locked unwaveringly on her serene, easy smile, as he tried to ignore the way it made something in his gut clench and churn. 
He drew to a stop right before her and her Shrine-sister, the latter looking up at him with wide eyes, her hands stilling over her work as she looked up to the Slayer in awe. 
Giyuu cleared his throat but Y/N only continued wiping the dirt from carrots with her cloth. 
The ravenette tried again. “I am in need of your assistance.” 
Y/N’s comrade nudged her with her elbow, but the Miko only continued to clean, pointedly ignoring them both. 
Giyuu pursed his lips. “With my haori. The tear has grown larger —“
“I am busy.” Y/N’s tone was clipped. “Perhaps there are others who might assist you.”
“Please.” 
The Shrine Maiden’s hands finally stilled and she lifted her chin to face him. The moment she beheld the pleading sincerity in his eyes, coupled with the hard set of his jaw that betrayed just how desperate he was, her gaze softened.
She sighed. “Very well then,” she rose, brushing her hands free of any residual dirt. She held her chin high and squared her shoulders, determined not to show him how he’d bruised her ego; how he’d frightened her. “Follow me.”
The Shrine sat at the base of a great mountain. But, nearly half a kilometer up the winding, twisting path leading up the mountain and carved into its side, was a grassy hilltop that then plateaued into a small overlook that boasted a phenomenal aerial view of the Shrine below. 
The summer grass had turned a vibrant shade of emerald, broken up only by dots of tiny white and blue wildflowers that had gathered in small clusters sprinkled throughout the overlook. At the back of the clearing stood an ancient willow tree, its trunk gnarled and knotted with age, its wisps swaying lazily in the wind.   
It was her favorite spot; a little ways away from the hustle and bustle of the Shrine, which meant they would have some privacy as she worked. Y/N settled down against the grass and pulled a needle and a spool of thread from her pocket. She turned her face up toward the Water Pillar where he stood over her. “I’ll take that haori, now, if you’ll please.” 
Wordlessly, Tomioka carefully slid the garment from his shoulders and handed it to her, though he hesitated in letting go as she took it gingerly into her hands. 
It was clearly very important to the Slayer, and perhaps that was why she felt the need to reassure him. “I promise to take care of it.”
He nodded stiffly and let go of the fabric and the Miko quickly set to work repairing its torn shoulder. The Water Pillar lingered awkwardly beside her for a moment longer before he too, sat in the grass next to her, though his back remained straight, his posture rigid.
She glanced at him as her needle wove the haori’s fabric back together. “I suppose this happened because of your occupation?” 
It was faint, but the shrine maiden swore she saw his mouth twitch into something reminiscent of a grimace. “Yes.”
“You should be lucky it wasn’t your flesh.”
At that, Tomioka scoffed. “I would not allow such a weakling to get close enough to try.”
“My, I’d not pegged you as the boastful sort, Tomioka-sama.”
“It’s not boasting; I speak only the truth.” He retorted evenly. 
The shrine maiden only hummed as she worked. “And what of your family? Do they support your path as a Slayer?”
The Water Pillar turned his head away, his form stiff. For a moment, the Miko feared she would be left to repair his haori in silence, with nothing but the faint whistling of birds to keep her company. 
“I have none,” Tomioka’s voice was soft, nearly swallowed by the wind. “There is no one left to object, even if they wanted to.”
Y/N’s hands paused their work as she thought. “You are alone?”
It would be nice, she supposed, to find another who, like her, belonged to no one; a kindred spirit of sorts.
“I suppose,” Tomioka spoke up after a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. “I have a mentor. But it was he who trained me to join the Corps.” 
“I should hope he’s more sober than mine,” Y/N drawled. “And less irritating.” 
The Miko’s attention was so fixed on her careful stitching along the hole in his haori, that she didn’t see his faint smile at her words. 
——
The Slayer and the shrine maiden continued talking long after she’d finished repairing the tear in his haori. It was only when Tomioka had realized nightfall was a mere hour away that the two reluctantly descended the hillside to return to the Shrine.
“I almost forgot.” The Water Pillar said, halting in front of the honden as Y/N escorted him back to the Shrine’s entrance. He dug into his pockets and pulled something free. “Here. For you.” 
The Miko gaped down at the fat red fruit that sat heavily in his palm. “This is -“ she said breathlessly, “A pomegranate!” 
He nodded, arm still outstretched towards her as he waited to drop the ruby fruit into her hand. 
She shook her head. “No, Tomioka-san, I cannot accept something so expensive-“
“I insist.” The Water Pillar withdrew a small knife and split the fruit in half, staining his hands crimson with the juice that spilled over its soft flesh.
Hesitantly, the young Miko accepted the half he offered her, and thumbed some of the fat, glistening jewels loose. The moment she brought them to her lips, Y/N sighed, contentedly, and for some reason, Giyuu found his cheeks heating as he watched her savor the sweet fruit. 
She lazily opened her eyes after swallowing her first mouthful, but she was startled to see the Hashira staring at her, unwaveringly, and she realized he’d moved closer towards her than he had been only seconds earlier. 
Tomioka’s azure eyes were fixed hard on her lips, as he leaned in close to her, Y/N flushing as he drew nearer. 
Is he going to kiss me? Her traitorous heart thundered at the idea, and it caused her no short amount of grief to know she was uncertain whether she wanted him to do so. As her emotions warred with her logic, the Water Pillar’s gentle fingers cupped under her chin, and his thumb brushed delicately across her lower lip. 
“Pomegranate juice,” he said, but Y/N could still feel the warmth of his breath still as his hand lingered under her chin. His eyes were wide as though he, too, could not believe what he’d just done. 
“Yes,” she breathed, before she felt her cheeks heat. “I – I mean, thank you.”
The Water Pillar’s gaze dropped to her lips and her stomach twisted violently. All at once, awareness seemed to come crashing down upon him, and he then stepped back, his hand falling from its hold on her face and back to his side.
The shrine maiden remained frozen in place for a heartbeat longer. “Are you certain you’re unable to be our guest tonight?” Her voice was little more than a pitiful squeak.
Her eyes lifted to his and she knew the answer before he spoke it. “I cannot,” and to her surprise, he almost looked as disappointed as she felt, but he added hastily, “But I will be back. Soon.”
“Soon,” she echoed, feeling rather dazed. “Yes. Of course. I — we — look forward to it.”
She was thankful that Tomioka had already turned away from her as he made his way down the long, winding steps that led to the main route out of the forest; that way, he could not see the way her cheeks burned crimson, or how she buried her face in her hands as she cursed her own embarrassment.
Giyuu was grateful his back was to the young Miko as he retreated through the Shrine’s gates and back to the path which would lead him home. It meant she could not see as he stared at his thumb – the thumb he’d used to clear away the small bead of pomegranate juice from her lips – or how his eyebrows pinched together. It meant she could not hear his heart as it beat wildly in his chest at the memory of how soft and full her lip had been beneath the pad of his thumb, soft enough that some treacherous part of his brain had urged him to lean in, to see if her lips would feel as good against his – 
He shook his head, trying desperately to dispel his wild intrusive thoughts. It was ludicrous; he did not think of the young shrine maiden in that way. Not when she frequently sought to needle him, not when she frustrated him to no end. 
His collar suddenly felt tight; his skin, far too hot. His gaze dropped back down to the hand that had touched her, and it clenched. 
A pomegranate. It was only a pomegranate; nothing more. 
“It was a thank you gift,” Giyuu declared, as though speaking the words out loud gave them more force. “It is nothing more than an expression of gratitude.”
And even his crow, ancient and dull as he was, scoffed at the obviousness of the lie.
——
Late Summer, 1915
Summer blazed hot and humid. But neither the sweltering heat of the sun nor the most arduous missions he took exhausted Giyuu more than the complicated, tangled mess of feelings that had taken root within him. Because with every day that passed, the Miko of the Shrine at the edge of the forest occupied more and more of his mind. And Giyuu did not know what it meant or what he should do about it. 
She’d not just repaired his haori or made him salmon; she’d somehow wormed her way into his every waking thought, and to his great confusion, he found himself almost unwilling to think of anything but her. 
Admittedly, Giyuu Tomioka did not have the requisite tools in his social arsenal to successfully navigate human interaction. He hadn’t quite known the extent of his ineptitude however, until the Insect Pillar had so cheerfully pointed out that none of his comrades, in fact, liked him. That revelation had made him doubt every interaction he’d had since, made him wonder whether even the lower ranked Slayers viewed him with the same apathy, if not the same outright hostility toward him shared by Shinazugawa and Iguro.
He’d come to doubt them all — except her.
Y/N was different; at the end of each visit to the Shrine, the Water Pillar did not find himself feeling drained or unwanted.  He felt lighter; rejuvenated, even. She was a breath of fresh air that Giyuu found more difficult to go without with each passing day. 
She still picked at him, but she did so without the malice he’d normally come to expect, even from those he considered friends, like the Kocho. The young Miko had a way of teasing him that did not leave him feeling decidedly othered. Rather, her japes only spurred him to respond with his own, though admittedly, they tended to fall flat.
He’d known, from the moment she’d attempted to bludgeon him with her broom, that there was more to the Miko than met the eye; but he hadn’t imagined he’d find himself as drawn to her as he was, unable to tolerate going more than a handful of weeks without paying her a visit.
And, given the way she’d blushed after he’d thanked her for repairing his haori, perhaps she was drawn to him, too. Perhaps he hoped she was.
But he would have to wait to find out, for his obligations to the Corps had taken him to a village a considerable distance away from his designated territory. He’d been tasked with investigating a series of disappearances of young women in the region, but his orders had come abruptly enough that he’d not been able to spare a visit to the Shrine before he departed.
He was anxious — eager — to return, though not before he took care of the demon likely behind the mystery plaguing the village he now patrolled.
Nightfall was still a little ways off, and so Giyuu found himself wandering the streets to pass the time. He made his way to a sizeable outdoor market, still packed with shoppers oohing and ahhing over vibrant displays of silk, crafted jewelry, and sugary confectioneries.
Idly, he too, joined other patrons in browsing the small vending stands that lined the bustling village streets, though his perusal was disinterested, if not bored. But his eyes snagged on one small bauble displayed on the merchant’s small stand upon a swath of silk. It was small; unassuming. But the carefully crafted decoration was painted in a startling shade of crimson that he found hard to ignore. 
The image of a certain Miko flashed through his mind. He couldn’t leave without it. he wouldn’t; not when its paint so perfectly matched the color of Y/N’s hakama trousers.
I spend the year longing for autumn. That was what she’d told him, that day on the hillside after she’d repaired his haori. 
He almost smiled to himself. This would be a way for her to enjoy her favorite season even in the scorching heat of summer or the biting cold of winter. 
He waited for the merchant to notice his presence, his fingers twisting around the small money sack he kept tucked in his pocket. His eyes flickered back to the small trinket. Idly, Giyuu wondered when he’d begun associating the color red with the shrine maiden and not with the blood he’d always imagined stained his hands. 
He continued to stare the merchant down until he finally managed to catch the vendor’s eye, who flinched at the intensity of his unblinking stare.   
Giyuu jutted his chin toward the small token. “How much?” 
—-
He found the Miko a few mornings later, relaxing on the hillside overlooking the Shrine. She laid amongst the late summer wildflowers that had bloomed, her form framed against the grass with petals of soft blue and bright marigold. 
Giyuu wordlessly settled beside her, and he tried to ignore the thunderous beat of his heart against his sternum as she rolled her head toward him to greet him with a sleepy smile. They exchanged pleasantries and settled into a comfortable silence, both content to watch the sun rise higher over the horizon.
Easy; it was so easy for him to sit beside her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 
“So, you are to take over the Shrine, one day?”
Y/N’s head turned to the Water Pillar in surprise; though he’d grown steadily more talkative over the months since she’d met him, it wasn’t often that he initiated conversation. 
She settled back against the cool grass of the hilltop overlooking the Shrine, enjoying the precious few moments of quiet in the early morning before the chaos of the day called her away. “Yes,” though there was a slight uncertainty in her voice. “I’m sure it’s the expectation, after all. I have to repay Granny for her kindness.”
Giyuu frowned. “But is that what you want?”
“What I want is irrelevant,” the Miko folded her arms behind her head and tilted her face up toward the sky. Her eyes tracked the great, fluffy clouds that drifted lazily by, though the Water Pillar suspected she was attempting to avoid having to meet his eye. 
“It’s not irrelevant,” he countered. “If nothing else, you should be allowed to consider other possibilities.”
She did not answer him, and the silence between them stretched enough that he thought to drop the subject, not wanting to press her any further. 
“I think,” she said in that faraway voice that Giyuu had come to learn meant she was trying to conceal some deeply felt emotion. “I think should like to belong somewhere.” Her eyes shone. “No, that’s not it — I want someone to belong to me, and I to them. 
“A husband.” He said flatly. 
The Miko shook her head. “I have never belonged to anywhere or to anyone. I’ve no family to call my own - only an old woman who took pity on me as an infant and raised me. I wonder — what must it be like?” She laid back on the grass and closed her eyes. “That is the one thing I would change. I belong nowhere because I’m no one — nobody’s.” 
Giyuu frowned. “I don’t think that’s true—“
“It is true,” she insisted, though she said it with such ease and conviction, like it was the most obvious and natural thing in the world. “I am here for a moment and then I will be gone, and no one will ever know or remember that there once was a shrine maiden named Y/N here. I’ve made peace with that.”
I would, Giyuu wanted to tell her. I would remember and I would tell them all. 
“I am nobody as well,” Giyuu admitted quietly after a moment. “And I have no one left to belong to.” 
The image of her face, so kind and sad and full of understanding at his words, had stayed with him for the rest of the morning and even as he settled in for a few hours of sleep in the Shrine’s guest wing.  
And in his dreams, her face remained a constant.
The sky had turned a vivid shade of orange by the time the Water Pillar emerged from his guest lodgings, ready to depart and resume his duties.  Y/N had been helping another shrine maiden tote firewood across the courtyard when she heard a quiet call of her name.
She turned and saw the raven-haired Swordsman standing near the great Torii gate. 
She looked back to her fellow trainee, who waved her off with a knowing smile, and Y/N brushed her hands clean against her hakama pants before she approached him. 
“Leaving so soon?” And she tried to mask her disappointment at the shortness of his visit. 
Giyuu nodded. “We’ve been stretched thin, in light of a few…changes to our ranks.”
The Miko nodded grimly. He’d told her that a fellow Hashira had been slain a few months prior, and another had retired following a rather violent battle that had destroyed part of a far off city.
“But I wanted to give you this.”
She glanced down to his outstretched hand, where a small parcel was wrapped in plain furoshiki cloth. Stunned, she took the package from him, her eyes flicking between it and the Water Pillar watching her intently.
Gingerly, she unfolded the bundle and unveiled a long, but fragile metal and wood reed.
A hairpin, she realized with a soft gasp. Y/N could scarcely bring her fingers to run over the exquisitely crafted ridges of the leaves that adorned the top portion of the pin, afraid that even the slightest pressure from her touch would cause the Water Pillar’s precious gift to her to crumble. 
I spend the year longing for autumn, she’d told him. She hadn’t thought he’d been particularly interested in listening to her talk; but as Y/N cradled the delicate ornament between her palms, she felt a blush begin to creep across her cheeks. 
As her fingers traced across the delicate ridges of a cluster of maple leaves, lacquered in a thick coat of scarlet paint — a perfect match to the hue of her traditional Miko hakama pants — Y/N realized that perhaps Tomioka had been paying more attention to her than she’d realized. 
For the Water Pillar had given her a piece of autumn to hold onto year-round. 
“Tomioka-san, you do not-“ 
“Giyuu.” The ravenette interrupted her. “Please, call me by my name; it’s Giyuu.” 
Y/N’s mouth closed, but she smiled softly, considering. “Alright. Giyuu — please, you do not need to feel obligated to bring gifts for us — it was only salmon.” 
But Giyuu only shook his head. “I don’t bring gifts for everyone; just you.” 
Y/N turned scarlet. 
“Please, just-“ Giyuu frowned, and Y/N could have sworn she saw the faintest glow of pink coloring the Hashira’s cheeks. “Just take it.” 
“Okay,” her voice resembled a mouse’s squeak as she cradled the pin delicately between her hands. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” 
“And it wasn’t just salmon.” 
Y/N looked to him in surprise, her head cocked in curiosity. “Pardon?” 
Giyuu exhaled harshly through his nose before stepping closer to her. “This is not only because you made salmon.” Her eyes tracked his hand as it rose to grip the front fold of his haori in his fist. “This – this is all I have left of my family.” 
“My sister,” he gestured to the red half of his haori. “She died protecting me.” His hand drifted to the green and orange patterned half of the garment. “And this belonged to a dear friend. He also perished protecting me – and others.”
The Miko’s lips parted, understanding and sorrow flooding her eyes. “Tomioka-san — Giyuu — I had no idea —“
“They both died because of demons – because I could not help them. And now this is all I have left to remember them by.” And then he did the unthinkable; he grabbed her hand and pressed it against the checkered portion of his haori, right over his heart. His hand was warm and firm. Gentle, though she could feel his callouses against her knuckles as he held it in place. “So it wasn’t just salmon.” He repeated, and there was a heat in his eyes Y/N had not seen before, one that stoked a fire in her belly. “And you are not just anyone.” 
A soft exhale blew past her lips at the sincerity of his words. For the first time in all her nineteen years, she wondered if this was what it meant to mean something to someone.
“Thank you,” she breathed, eyes wide and sparkling with unshed emotion. “I will treasure it.”
She swore she saw a faint blush creep across the Water Pillar’s cheeks, but she brushed it aside as nothing more than the shadows of the sky as twilight darkened the horizon. 
Tomioka nodded. “I must get going now; I will see you soon.”
She did not want him to go.
But the shrine maiden concealed the pang she felt in her chest with a breezy smile. “Farewell, Tomio-“
“Giyuu.” 
She blushed. “Yes — Giyuu. Until next time.”
“I cannot believe he lets the old woman charge him an arm and a leg to stay a single night,” Miyoko said in awe as the pair watched the retreating form of the Water Pillar through the shrine house gates. 
The hairpin clutched tightly in her hands suddenly felt like a stone weight. “I’m sure he stays here only for convenience’s sake,” Y/N replied airily, turning sharply away from the egress to the shrine to hide her warming cheeks.  
Miyoko snorted. “Hardly. The Demon Slayer Corps has tons of safehouses throughout the country. Corps members get medical treatment, hot meals, and lodging free of charge.” Y/N’s sister-in-training grunted as she heaved a hefty bag of rice flour from the storeroom to the girls’ side, no doubt hauling it out to prepare the evening meal. 
“I’ve heard of at least four such houses in this region alone. As a Hashira, Tomioka-sama could go to any one of them and be treated far more kindly than he is here.” 
Y/N frowned. “I wonder why, then, he continues to return here so often? Surely our shrine is some distance from his home, given that he stays the night each time.” 
Miyoko shot the young shrine maiden a knowing glance. “Perhaps he tolerates the Granny’s abuse because he is fond of the company.” 
Y/N only felt her face grow hotter as she ducked down, though she felt Miyoko’s amused stare burn through her back. 
—-
The Water Pillar had returned from his intel assignment and promptly journeyed to the Shrine, its inhabitants abuzz as they prepared for the arrival of autumn and the colder months, now only mere weeks away. 
He found the shrine maiden of his interest inside the main wing of the manor, back in the kitchen as she prepared herbs to be incorporated into various salves and medications. Y/N smiled brightly at him as he’d sidled up beside her, taking a handful of dried greenery from the bunch next to her and deftly pulling the leaves from the stem and handing them to her. 
“Is it your day off?” The Miko gratefully accepted the leaves he’d stripped and dumped them into the rocky mortar to join the others. 
Giyuu felt his stomach clench as his fingers brushed against hers. “I have completed my duties for the time being, yes.”
"You're welcome to help me, as long as you do not mind a bit of busy work."
He didn't; of course he didn't. In fact, as he accepted the heavy stone pestle from the Miko and set to work mashing the leaves she handed them into the mortar, Giyuu rather supposed he would do just about anything to remain in the shrine maiden's company, even if that meant assisting her in a task as banal as grinding medicinal herbs. And though the Slayer and the Miko fell into their well-practiced habit of quietly tending to Y/N's duties side by side, there was a notable absence of the bright chatter he'd grown accustomed to hearing during his visits.
The Water Pillar frowned. “You’re quiet.” It was not a question. “There is something on your mind.” 
“Is there?” Y/N hummed loftily, her hands continuing to strip leaves from their stems. “Perhaps I am simply focused.” 
Giyuu found his eyes wandering to the side to study the Miko’s face more often than usual. Though she maintained a pleasant smile as they worked, he could see that it did not fully reach her eyes. And even her sage expression could not conceal the way the troubled look in her eyes, hands pausing their work as she stared at something behind the walls of the small shrine kitchen. 
“Something is bothering you.” Giyuu took the bundle of herbs clutched in her hands and replaced them with his pestle, allowing her to work her frustrations over the paste forming at the bottom of the stone bowl. 
She blushed and refocused her gaze, grinding the pestle hard. “Nothing is wrong!” She chirped. 
“You are a dreadful liar.”
The Miko replied with an airy laugh that made his throat tighten. “So I’ve been told — often, in fact.” 
“There is…trouble in the village,” Y/N said carefully, though she kept her hands busy as she continued to grind herbs into a thick paste. “It is nothing we can’t handle, but it has put many of us on edge. Particularly Granny.” 
Giyuu frowned as he handed the shrine maiden another bunch of leaves from her basket. “What sort of trouble?” 
She hesitated. “It is petty village drama, nothing more.”
“You won’t give any further details?” 
The Water Pillar could not explain it, but he found himself troubled by the way the Shrine Maiden forced a smile and a far too casual shrug of her shoulders. “There are none worth re-hashing.” 
He frowned, but he did not press her further, resolving instead to poke around later. Perhaps he would see whether the Shrine’s head Priestess’s tongue was as loose with information as it was with vulgarity once she’d properly indulged in her sake; he’d make certain she was well-stocked in advance. 
Giyuu furtively glanced back at the shrine maiden’s profile, in part to see whether he could deduce anything from her expressions, but he found himself instead studying her, puzzling over a change in her appearance he hadn’t noticed before.
Sensing his stare, the Miko turned to him with a light smile that then  faltered. “What –?”
“You changed your hair.” It took everything within him not to reach out, to see if her hair would feel as silky in his fingers as it looked shifting softly in the wind. “I’ve never seen it down.” 
“Oh!” Her smile turned bashful, a pretty pink dusting spreading across her cheeks. “I wanted to wear my hairpin – see?” 
She turned her head, the long curtain of her hair rippling smoothly with the movement. With her back to him, Giyuu could see the pin he’d given her neatly tucked into the long strands of her hair, pinning half of it back. The red of the pin’s maple leaves posed a lovely contrast with the hue of her hair. 
Y/N was already quite beautiful, but with her hair partially down, he thought she looked softer; younger. She peeked over her shoulder at him, fingers nervously combing through her tresses. “It’s not practical for every day, of course, but I thought since you’d likely be arriving soon –” 
His eyes widened and Giyuu became acutely aware that his heart now thumped wildly in his throat as Y/N choked off with a squeak, apparently realizing what she’d revealed. Though she hurriedly turned back around, Giyuu could see how the tips of her ears burned bright red. 
Despite her efforts, her admission hung like a cloud in the air between them. She’d worn it – the hairpin – for him. 
Giyuu swallowed thickly. “I like it.” He cleared his throat and turned, allowing his own unruly hair to obscure his face. “On you, that is.” 
For once, the Miko had neither a quick remark nor barb to lob back at him. Instead, she only turned back to her task of grinding her herbs, a thick curtain of her hair concealing her face from his sight.
Once she'd finished bottling up her new medicinal salves, Giyuu helped her carry the tins to the Shrine's storage house, directly across the courtyard from its main wing. The shrine maiden remained curiously quiet, even in spite of his own lame attempts to converse with her. He'd finally given up after his dry comment about the weather went ignored. But every so often, he let his eyes wander to her as they returned to the honden, and that nagging feeling returned as he watched her gnaw incessantly at her bottom lip, a faraway look in her eyes. 
Giyuu was not a nosy man, but the Miko's clear distraction unsettled him. He was about to pull her aside, to demand she tell him exactly what it was that had chased away the smile he so longed to see when they were approached by Y/N's haughty Master.
“Lord Tomioka,” the head Priestess nodded curtly at him in greeting. “I am glad to have run into you — I am in need of your assistance.”
The old Priestess turned to her young protégée. “Go assist the younger ones; they need to give their offerings before dinner.” 
Y/N’s mouth opened to protest but the head Priestess cut her off. “Now.”
To his surprise, the shrine maiden did not argue with her Master, only turning to him to give him a helpless shrug before she began to make her way toward the Shrine’s honden. 
The Water Pillar grimaced. He tried to convince himself the pit in his stomach was only because her odd behavior gnawed at him; that he was only curious to learn what it was that troubled her.  But as the Miko cast one last, reluctant look over her shoulder at him, Giyuu found that he was as unwilling to watch her go as she was to leave. 
If the Shrine’s head priestess noticed his inner anguish, she paid it no mind. “You will accompany me in the kitchen.”
—-
The first thing he noticed was the conspicuous absence of the scent of sake, which he’d grown accustomed to following the Priestess around like a pungent cloud of perfume. He resisted the urge to scowl; he would have to find another way to get the old woman to talk.
Giyuu followed the woman into the small structure that stood adjacent to the honden that served as the Shrine’s kitchen. He watched silently as she pulled a cleaver, large and deadly sharp, free from where it was stored in a cabinet and laid it atop a butcher’s block. The elder stepped outside of the kitchen and returned a moment later, a recently de-feathered and skinned chicken in hand.
“Things around here seem…tense,” Giyuu observed carefully  as the old woman slapped the chicken on the counter for preparation. 
“Tense is one word for it, I reckon,” she bit, taking up her cleaver. “The world we live in is dark. I should think you would know that better than most.”
The corner of his mouth dipped down. “But even your girls seem unusually subdued; distracted.” 
Her eyes flashed to his, piercing and sharp. “You mean Y/N.”
It wasn’t a question. 
“She is always restless this time of year,” the old woman sighed. “Though she loves autumn, she despises winter — or, rather, she despises how it reminds her of what she does not have. And winter is well on its way.” 
He nodded, recalling what the shrine maiden had revealed to him that day, on the hillside.
“But your observation is correct — that is not all of the reason she is so distracted,” the old Priestess said darkly, and Giyuu was surprised to see how alert and focused the normally soused elder seemed. “A man from the village — Susumo — has been following her. Demanding her.” 
Giyyu straightened. “What do you mean by ‘demand?’” 
The haggard woman cursed below her breath as she broke down the chicken’s body. “I mean in the way that men often feel entitled to women — especially angry drunks like him.” 
Every hair on Giyuu’s body stood straight as the weight of the Priestess’ warning settled. 
“I have forbidden her from venturing out in the dark alone,” the Granny continued, harshly wrenching a joint on the fowl. 
“She is a Priestess in training; surely that status affords her some protection?” Giyuu’s knuckles turned white where his fists clenched at his sides. 
“I’m not sure the shrine is enough to keep him out for much longer. He’s been lingering — and threatening consequences, if I do not agree to hand her over to him for marriage.” The old Priestess grimaced. “Her status does her no good if he burns this place to the ground.” 
The old woman set her cleaver next to her with a heavy thud, her frustration palpable. “The girl is of age, and I am not her blood family; there is no one here who can claim authority over her, not like a parent or an elder sibling.” When her eyes lifted to his, Giyuu could see a hint of fear underlying the hard anger in her gaze. “These days, I half-expect to awaken and find that she’s been stolen in the night.” 
The Water Pillar felt his jaw clench. It was rare that he felt the burning flush of anger and it was not directed at a demon, but the idea that Y/N was being harassed and threatened by some village drunkard who felt entitled to her, lit something hot in his stomach. For as vexatious and confounding as he found the young Miko to be, no one deserved to be stalked like prey. 
Especially her. 
“I’ve had a crow stationed here to alert me of any demon attacks for months,” Giyuu began, and the old woman looked to him in surprise. “But I will assign more to keep watch during the day. If there is anything strange afoot, they will tell you.” He paused a moment before adding, “And they will alert me, too.”
The head Priestess laid down her cleaver to look at him, long and hard. “Then she may have a fighting chance yet, Lord Hashira.”
————-
By the time he found Y/N once more, dinner was over and the moon had risen high in the night sky, casting the shrine grounds in its pale, silvery glow.
He’d told her, rather tersely, that he was unable to stay the night, and he tried to ignore how his chest tightened at the crestfallen look that flashed across her face. Despite her tangible disappointment, she insisted on escorting him out of the Shrine, desperate to cling to every second that might be spared to them.
“You are rather quiet tonight,” the Miko observed, walking him to the grand Torii. “More so than usual.” It was an understatement; the Water Pillar had been downright sullen and withdrawn from the moment he’d returned from whatever takes Granny had insisted she help him with. 
Rather than give her any explanation, Giyuu halted his step and reached for her wrist, stilling her. “You did not tell me you were being harassed.” 
She looked up to the Water Pillar in surprise. “How did you —?” 
He released her from his grip in favor of drawing closer to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
Y/N opened and closed her mouth, struggling to find her words. “I suppose,” she began, but her mouth quirked down in a frown. “I did not think you needed to be burdened by something so insignificant.” 
Giyuu stared at her as he mouthed the word insignificant, the look he shot her giving the distinct impression he thought her an idiot. “I do not think your safety is insignificant,” Giyuu’s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, clenching it tight. “Nor do I think you are insignificant.” 
“Compared to your other obligations? I should think I’m very unimportant.” Y/N turned away from him, fiddling with a gathering basket she carried on her hip to avoid having to look him in the eyes.
But the raven-haired Pillar caught her wrist and turned her back to face him, not willing to be ignored. “If you call for me, I will come to you.” 
Y/N’s heart lurched at the Water Pillar’s words, spoken with such conviction and sincerity that it made her falter in her step. “Tomioka-san,” she said breathlessly, her eyes wide as she turned to him. “You have far more important duties to see to than to concern yourself with than mere village drama —“
But the raven-haired Hashira only shook his head as he took another step towards her, his expression severe; calculating. “You have the knife I gave you, yes?” His eyes dropped to her pocket, and Y/N felt compelled to show him that the small blade was indeed tucked safely within the folds of her hakama pants. 
“Giyuu,” she pled, and she noted the way that he twitched towards her at the sound of his name falling from her lips. “Please, don’t worry —“
“I do not make promises I cannot keep,” the Water Pillar cut her off, closing the distance between them until the tips of his zori nearly grazed hers, his head bent down towards her as the heat of his stare threatened to consume her. “So I repeat: if you call for me, I will come to you.” 
Any thought of arguing faded from her mind as Y/N became keenly aware of the lack of space between their bodies, of the way her hands, clasped in front of her chest brushed against the folds of his haori as it shifted softly with the wind. 
“I understand,” she breathed. Y/N held his gaze for a long moment, though it was in part due to the battle waging within her not to allow her eyes to drop to his lips.
She would not let herself acknowledge how close they were; how soft they looked, or how warm they might feel against hers; her skin. 
Giyuu lingered as well; after a pregnant pause, he finally stepped back, blinking as though coming out of a trance. “Good,” he nodded, and he glanced furtively over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he nodded as though satisfied before he turned crisply on his heel to begin his trek towards his duties and away from her. “Do not forget.” He called one last time over his shoulder, before the shadows of the woods swallowed him whole. 
As Y/N dazedly made her way back towards the shrine, a crow following closely behind her, she almost laughed at the suggestion she could. 
——-
Autumn, 1915
The weeks passed by without much fuss, and soon, the palpable tension that had settled over the Shrine as a result of Susumo’s lingering threats subsided. Soon, life at the Shrine returned to normal, and Y/N often found her mind wandering to thoughts of raven hair and endless blue eyes. 
Until that night.
It had been a normal evening at the Shrine; autumn, blissful autumn had arrived, heralding forth crisp winds and golden skies. Though the days were steadily growing shorter, Y/N found herself rejuvenated by the new chill, especially as she watched the leaves of the trees shift from green to gold to ruby. 
The leaves on her hairpin indeed had been a perfect match to those which were steadily drifting from the tall maples dotting the Shrine. Though she couldn’t wear her hair down the way she had the last time the Water Pillar paid the Shrine a visit, Y/N had found new ways to incorporate his gift into her daily life, weaving it through her plait or tucking it behind her ear. 
That night had been one like any other; after dinner, the girls of the Shrine had scattered to tend to their evening duties.  The shrine maiden had been walking alongside her Master, planning for the upcoming festival in the nearby village, during which the Shrine would seek new patrons to keep it operational. The women mulled over which families might be more inclined to assist them, and settled on a prominent merchant known to frequent other shrines on his travels through the country.
That was when they’d spotted the smoke.
“Fire!” A shrill voice cried, and both the old Priestess and Y/N blanched. “The honden is on fire!”
All at once, chaos broke out across the Shrine grounds as girls darted to and fro, frantic. Granny began barking at her charges, ordering the younger ones to gather in the courtyard while instructing the older girls to assist in putting out the flames.
"The granary!" Someone else cried. "The granary has gone up in flames!"
The elder Priestess snatched Y/N's wrist in her weathered hand. “The scrolls!” Granny's expression of horror was a sure match to her own. “They’re in the storeroom near the granary!” 
The scrolls in question had been in the Shrine’s custody for over five hundred years, carrying sacred inscriptions of the gods and prayers essential to its operation and legitimacy.
They were priceless; irreplaceable. 
“I’ll go!” And before her Master could protest, the Miko had already turned away and began sprinting toward the fire that was rapidly engulfing the granary near the back of the property.  
Thankfully, the storeroom had yet to catch fire, but if the one steadily consuming the granary was not dealt with soon, it wouldn’t be long before it spread to consume the small wooden hut. 
And Y/N knew it wouldn’t take much to reduce the storeroom to ash. 
Coughing, she pressed her arm to her nose and mouth, using the large bell sleeve of her kosode to block some of the smoke that burned her eyes and nose. She pulled her other sleeve over her hand to protect it as she pushed the storehouse’s door aside. 
Inside was dark; quiet. Though the nighttime made it difficult for her to see the scrolls and prints carefully rolled and tucked away into tiny cubbies lining the hut’s walls, Y/N wasn’t stupid enough to waste time searching for a candle to light. So, with only the flames eating away at the granary at her back to light her way, she began pulling handfuls of scrolls free from their storage, tucking them under her arm. 
She turned to take her first armload of priceless Shrine artifacts from the storeroom and nearly tripped over a collection of heated coal pans that had been stacked in the corner to keep the scrolls sealed within the room at a stable temperature. She managed to hold onto her scrolls, however, and she quickly moved them away from the hut, placing them safely on a nearby rock that was still far enough away from the storeroom should it catch fire. She returned to the hut to survey what else she needed to salvage, but a familiar, tiny yelp and the flurry of movement in her periphery made the Miko’s stomach twist.
“Komatsu!” Y/N turned and saw the anxious younger girl lingering at the storage hut’s door, her tiny hands trembling. “Get away from here! It’s not safe!” 
“B-but Sister,” the girl cried, hopping anxiously from foot to foot. “This is too much to do on your own —“
“You need to go find Granny,” the shrine maiden ordered. “I will join you in a moment.”
The girl’s lower lip wobbled. “But —,”
“Now!”
With a great sniff, the girl turned away, leaving Y/N alone once more. The Miko sighed and resumed her hasty perusal of the hut’s shelves, searching for anything else that could not be replaced. 
There was a rustling near the doorway and Y/N bit her lip in an effort not to swear in front of her younger peer. “Komatsu, what did I say —“ 
She turned to admonish the girl, but her reprimand dried instantly on her tongue. For there, in the entryway to the storeroom, was Komatsu, her eyes wide and her face bone-white with a terror that matched Y/N’s own.
Because the girl was not alone.
Wrapped around her bicep was a hand, as large as a small boulder, and tipped with long, wicked claws that threatened to pierce Komatsu’s bicep. The hand was attached to a forearm, inhumanly thick and muscled. Slowly, Y/N’s eyes dragged up the length of the monstrous arm to behold the sinister face that grinned at her. 
It was Susumo — only it wasn’t Susumo. Y/N recognized the vague features of the face that had once belonged to the village drunk and her personal tormentor. His hair was the same as was the general shape of his face, and the cruelty of his smirk, but that was where the resemblance to the Susumo she’d once known ended.
Now, he boasted a row of sharp fangs that distended nearly to his lower lip. And his eyes — no longer were they a cold, soulless black; now they were crimson red, and his pupils were cut into catlike slits.
Demon. A voice whispered in her mind. Demon.
“Enjoy my fires, Priestess?” Even Susumo’s voice had changed, forming a growl that matched his monstrous appearance. “I set them for you — I knew you would not be able to resist seeing such a spectacle.”
“Komatsu,” Y/N ignored him in favor of addressing the young girl, though her voice was unusually high though she fought to keep it as steady as possible. “Please go find Granny and help her with the honden.” 
The young trainee trembled but Susumo’s clawed hand only tightened around her arm. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, sweet Priestess,” the demon crooned. “You have something I want, you see.”
The slick, oily look in his eyes made his desire clear.
Y/N’s eyes darted quickly around the hut, finally falling on a series of coal pans stacked to the side of the room, only a few feet from where she stood, paralyzed. Her quick, cursory glance at the pans revealed iron that was slightly red, and she swore she could see the air around them distorted by the heat.
Hot; they were still hot.
The Miko looked back to where the demon continued to leer at her, ravenous. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I will go with you, Susumo.”
Komatsu looked between her and the demon in horror, but Y/N only kept her eyes locked with the demon’s. She edged closer to where the coal pans were still burning hot, eyes not daring to drop his as she drew closer to the demon and the younger trainee. He grinned, revealing cruelly sharp and bloodstained teeth, and his yellow eyes shone with a triumphant smugness, believing the Miko was surrendering to him at last. 
As she brushed past the pans, Y/N furtively reached out a hand and closed her fingers around one of the handles. “Komatsu,” the Miko kept her eyes carefully trained on the demon. “Run.”
Her hand seized around the coal pan and with every ounce of her strength, she swung it toward the demon. The hot iron of the pan slammed into the side of his head, forcing him to drop his hold on the younger girl. There was a struggle between the older shrine maiden and the demon, who fought to wrench the pan free from her fierce grip, but Y/N would not relent. 
“Run!” She shrieked at the girl again, and Komatsu darted away. Y/N’s fingers stretched to close around the tiny lever on the handle of the coal pan, and with a snarl of fury, she managed to latch around it, squeezing it with all her might. The lid of the pan opened and red-hot coals spilled forth over the demon’s head. Susumo howled in fury, and Y/N dropped the pan, letting it crack against his head as she shot past him, desperate to escape the tiny storeroom.
The faster she got into open air, the better chance she had of living. 
But a claw, sharp and deadly sunk into her bicep, and yanked her back. She could not help the small scream that tore from her throat as she felt his talons rip at her skin and the sleeve of her kosode was shredded into ribbons beneath his nails.
“Sister Y/N!” Komatsu’s tiny, terrified voice cried out from several feet ahead. 
The shrine maiden swallowed her building panic. “Go!”
The little girl hesitated again and Y/N knew she could not follow after her, not without risking her safety once again. With a defiant scream of rage, the shrine maiden tore her arm free of the demon’s razor-like claws, fighting back the bile that rose in her throat as she felt blood run down her arm, hot and thick. 
The demon grasped wildly at her but found only air. Thinking only of the safety of Komatsu and her fellow trainees, Y/N turned on her heel and ran for the trees, away from the chaos unfolding at the Shrine. 
And the demon, still snarling and panting and undoubtedly enraged, followed her into the forest.
Shit, shit, shit!
Y/N hurtled over a snarled root as she ran, her life dependent upon every stride as she fled the newly-demented Susumo.
In the back of her mind, the Miko knew her efforts were in vain; because for every inch she managed to gain, the angry demon at her heels seemed to gain a foot.
“You’ve denied me for far too long!” The monster’s voice growled behind her, far too close for comfort. “I will have you!”
Y/N palmed the small nichirin knife tucked safely within the deep pockets of her hakama pants, and wildly she wondered whether it was possible to decapitate a demon with such a small blade. Perhaps the Water Pillar should have left her a sword. After all, a sword could not really be that different from a broom, and she’d walloped her fair share of handsy drunkards and would-be thieves with the cleaning tool.
If she lived through the night, she would tell him as much the next time she saw him.
Y/N’s musings did nothing to help her avoid the root of an old tree that jutted out from the earth, snarling around her ankle and sending her flailing to the forest floor. Angry tears of frustration clouded her eyes. Although she knew these paths like the back of her hand, that knowledge did her little good in the dark, as she fled for her life.
Scrambling up to her feet, Y/N caught sight of a pair of eyes watching her from the brambles, dark and inky.
A crow. The image of a certain Hashira flashed before her eyes, as Y/N recalled the way that the members of the Demon Slayer Corps used crows to communicate.
Perhaps this crow was so affiliated, and she was desperate enough to try. “Please!” Y/N begged, sobbing as the crow stared down at her with those black eyes. “Giyuu!”
———
The night had been unusually peaceful for the Water Pillar.
His ambling patrol around his territory’s perimeter hadn’t revealed so much as a whisper of demonic activity. But the absence of any conspicuous threat did not mean his guard was down; his eyes remained sharp, his ear finely tuned, listening for any shift in the wind, any sign that something was amiss and required investigation —
A sudden rustle of leaves sounded from his right, and Giyuu’s hand moved reflexively for his blade, bracing against its hilt in preparation. A small shadow burst from the canopy above him, its wings flapping wildly. He recognized it instantly as the crow he’d assigned to watch over the Shrine — to watch over her.
“Demon attack at the Mountain Shrine!” The crow squawked, circling above him frantically. “Demon attack! Go now — quickly!” 
He hadn’t hesitated to turn sharply on his heel, furiously making his way toward the Shrine. He broke through the line of trees at its edge in record time, and even he’d been taken aback by the chaos that had broken out.
“The honden is on fire!” the old woman cried out to the Pillar as he swiftly landed among the chaos unfolding across the shrine grounds. “The girls were still doing their evening duties – but then another fire was started near the granary!” 
“My crows said a demon had made an appearance,” Giyuu’s eyes carefully scanned the terrified, frantic faces of the Shrine’s residents, his hands braced against the hilt of his sword. “Has anyone been hurt?” 
The head Priestess stared at the Water Pillar in muted horror. “I have not seen – but I haven’t taken any headcount of the girls to know –” 
A piercing cry from near the south gate of the Shrine cut the old woman off, and both Priestess and Slayer whipped toward the sound. A girl, no more than nine, was half-running, half-stumbling toward them, frightened tears streaking down her face. 
“Komatsu!” the old Priestess blanched as she caught sight of the small apprentice’s busted, bloodied lip. With a sob, the young girl flung herself into her elder’s arms and clung tightly to her. “What on earth –?” 
“Sister Y/N!” the girl called Komatsu wailed, and Giyuu felt himself go cold. “Granny – th-that man – he’s a monster!”
The head Priestess paled in recognition. “Susumo?” Giyuu’s gut clenched at the name. The old woman knelt before the girl, her hands clutching wildly at her slim shoulders as she shook her lightly to recenter her. “Komatsu, was Susumo the monster?” 
The young girl nodded. “He was so – hiccup – fast! I didn’t even see him!” She only cried harder. “And t-then Sister Y/N – she grabbed the coal pan and dumped it on him until he let go.” Komatsu trembled as she lifted a shaking hand to wipe at her cheeks. “A-and then she t-told me to r-run –” 
THe old Priestess caught the girl’s quivering chin in her hand and forced her to meet her eyes. “Where is Y/N, Komatsu?” 
Komatus’s eyes were wide with fear. “She ran,” she whispered. “Into the woods – b-but Granny – she was bleeding –” 
The Shrine’s Priestess turned to the Slayer, ready to beg him to follow after the demon and her apprentice, but the Water Pillar was gone. For a brief moment, she feared all hope was lost; that they’d been abandoned and non one would be able to save the young Miko – her heir – from whatever horrid fate awaited her at the ends of Susumo’s crazed, brutal claws.
She caught a flurry of movement right against the dark line of trees that snagged her attention; a flap of the edge of a mismatched haori, and the glint of a blade being drawn, its wielder already furiously making his way into the shadowy depths of the forest. 
The Priestess exhaled and clutched her trembling young trainee to her chest. As she soothed the shaken young girl, the old woman prayed the Water Pillar would not be too late.
She was fucked; well and truly fucked.
Y/N had no idea how long she’d spent sprinting furiously through the forest, but she knew she was quickly running out of stamina. Worse, it seemed the demon on her heels knew she was slowing, and was now playing with her. But even his patience seemed to be at its wit’s end; for a sudden sharp blow to her back sent the Miko flying several feet forward until she slammed against the uneven, rough terrain of the forest floor.
Y/N gasped for air that would not come as she tried to push herself up. Crawl! Her mind begged her body. Crawl, damn you!
A dark chuckle from behind sent every hair on her body standing straight on end. A hand locked around her ankle and flipped her over until she was nearly nose to nose with the demon crouched over her. “Got you,” he sang, and the moonlight glinted off the sharp edge of his fangs as he grinned. 
Her fingers found the handle of the knife the Water Pillar had gifted her in her pocket. With a determined grunt, she pulled it free and plunged it deep into the meat of his shoulder, praying furiously to any god who would listen that she might have hit an artery so that he would bleed out. 
The demon loosed an enraged scream and fell away from her, hands blindly fumbling for the blade.  
No longer pinned beneath him, Y/N  scrambled back. Her hands scraped against the broken brush and pebbles below her in her desperate attempt to put distance between herself and the demon rising to his feet ahead of her, snarling. As he began advancing toward her, Susumo gripped the knife she’d buried in his shoulder and with a grunt, he wrenched it free and tossed it carelessly to the side, right along with the last shred of any hope she’d had of making it out of the woods alive.
The demon’s mouth curled into a cruel, savage grin, the moonlight glinting off his long, wicked fangs. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he growled, saliva dripping down his chin as his nostrils widened to scent her blood and her fear. 
This was it; there was nowhere for her to run, no weapon she could try and protect herself with. There was nothing she could do; she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Just as Susumo drew upon her, close enough that she could smell the rancid, pungent odor of rotted meat on his breath, he stumbled back, startled. 
One moment the demon was standing mere inches from her, ready to devour her whole; the next, he was sent sailing back, his body smashing into the trunk of a nearby tree with a sickening thump! 
A blur of dark matter soared over the Miko’s head toward the monster. Susumo barely had time to stand before the shadow converged on him once more. There was a flash of light — the moon reflecting off metal — followed by a dull thud. The shrine maiden’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched the head of the former village drunkard roll across the forest floor before distingrating, his body following soon after. 
She was nearly hyperventilating as the shadow turned to face her, but the pall of the moon finally illuminated the face of her savior — her Water Pillar.
“G-Giyuu,” she stuttered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears of relief that washed over her all at once.
But Giyuu did not respond, his lapis eyes narrowing in on the dark stain spreading across the white of her kosode. Y/N cowered at the cold, unbridled rage that contorted the ordinarily stoic Hashira’s face as he began to shake at the sight of her blood. In a flash, Giyuu had closed the distance between them and knelt down by her side, gripping her wounded arm in his hand as he tried to pull her tattered sleeve down and  inspect her wound.
“Tomioka — Giyuu,” she pled, trying to wrench her arm from his iron-like grip. “Please, it’s not that bad —“
“Did it get you anywhere else?” Giyuu demanded harshly, and the authority underlying his tone made Y/N fall silent for the first time since she’d known him. “Did it -“ the Water Pillar hesitated. “Did it touch you anywhere else?”
Y/N was trembling, and the Hashira’s hand around her arm tightened. “Ah!” She winced. “No, I promise, Giyuu, it’s just a flesh wound, I’m fine-,”
“You are bleeding. You are not fine.” Giyuu snapped back. “You could’ve been killed, or turned, or -,” the Water Pillar began to hyperventilate, and it shook the young Miko to her core. The Water Hashira was normally so unflappable, so stoic, that his panicked anger frightened her.
“-So do not tell me you’re fine,” Giyuu’s rant continued. “Not when you could’ve — not when I might’ve failed — not again --”
She was at a loss for what to do as she watched the raven-haired man struggle to form words. Vaguely, she recalled the way the Granny-Priestess had once explained to her that when someone panicked, they needed to regulate their breathing, and there were many ways someone could help force another to breathe properly…
Stomach fluttering, Y/N’s free hand came up to grip the fold of the Water Pillar’s haori. Giyuu’s incessant rambling only ended when her lips urgently pressed against his own, his eyes going wide. A heartbeat or two passed and then the Miko pulled away, her eyes serious as she stared at the stunned Water Hashira.
“You need to give me a sword.” She told him, earnestly, her face blazing.
———
Giyuu helped her back to the Shrine, though the Miko found herself needing to bat off the Water Pillar with a stern reminder that she’d only sustained a small arm wound as he’d tried to scoop her up into his arms.
The Swordsman had been rather subdued the entire journey out of the forest, his eyes curiously wide and dazed right until the pair breached the tree line at the edge of the Shrine’s property. The moment they stepped into open ground, they were swarmed by the tearful, relieved faces of the Shrine’s inhabitants. Words of gratitude to him were woven through worries over the Miko’s arm wound as they made their way across toward the small infirmary which, thankfully, had not been touched by Susumo’s fire.
The honden itself was still standing; though the flames had finally been subdued, smoke still curled up toward the sky, blocking any view of the moon or the stars. 
The head Priestess waited for them outside the infirmary. Though her face was grave, Giyuu could spy the relief shining in her eyes. He stood numbly by as the Miko and her master regarded each other warily for a moment, before the elder Priestess reached forward and yanked her charge forward into a fierce embrace.
“Reckless girl,” she chastised gently against the side of Y/N’s head. “Thank every one of the gods that you’re safe.” The old Priestess’s eyes found those of the Water Pillar. “And thank you, Lord Tomioka.”
Y/N was promptly escorted inside to have her wound examined and stitched. Despite the old shrine keeper’s gratitude for his aid in saving the young shrine maiden, that thankfulness apparently did not extend to permitting him inside the infirmary with them, and for good reason. For under the Elder’s withering glare, the Water Pillar realized that Y/N’s treatment would require her to be stripped of her kosode, leaving her exposed and bare. 
As unwilling as he’d been to part from her, the thought of witnessing the Miko undressed and vulnerable had been enough to temper his urge to look after her, if nothing else because the mental image of her in such a state flustered him to no end.
Though, he supposed his bewilderment also had something to do with what had transpired between them in the forest.
Kissed him; the shrine maiden had kissed him. 
His fingers drifted to his lips. They still felt warm where they’d been graced by hers, and he swore he could still feel the softness of her mouth from where it had brushed against his. 
He needed to talk to her; he needed to know what the hell she’d been thinking, kissing him like that. 
But as shocking as the Miko’s kiss had been, there was something else, something far heavier, that weighed on his mind. 
She’d nearly been killed. By a demon. On his watch. 
He should’ve apologized; he should’ve begged for her forgiveness for letting her come that close with death. For letting her get wounded because he hadn’t been fast enough.
I was concerned for you, he wanted to tell her. I thought I would be too late.
No; concern didn’t cover it; did not do near enough justice to his true emotions upon learning the Miko had fled into the dark forest with a hungry, loathsome demon hot on her trail.
He’d been scared; terrified; almost beside himself at the possibility that he’d be too late and find that she’d already been reduced to the beast’s meal, 
He’d been scared he’d never again see her smile or hear her laugh, and that had terrified him more than anything. For it was the memory of both that soothed his anxious nerves each time he startled awake from visions of his dead loved ones, demanding to know why they had died in his stead.   
He’d feared that he would have to add her face to those he saw when he slept — the faces of those he’d failed to protect, who’d died for his sake. He’d been terrified of seeing her image in painstaking clarity, just as he saw the faces of his sister and Sabito every morning. 
He did not know what to do with them, these confusing feelings, so abundant and intense that they’d welled up within him and threatened to spill over. He couldn’t name them, let alone begin to untangle the knot they’d formed within his heart. All he knew was that every one of them were inextricably tied to her. 
His shrine maiden. 
His.
Y/N’s arm ached, but it had been properly sewn and bandaged, and there was work to do before she could settle in for the night; and so, she found herself helping her peers with cleaning up the courtyard from the debris of the night’s events. 
Truthfully, she'd been grateful for the distraction. Occupying herself with cleanup meant she did not have to think about what she’d done in the forest. But then Granny Priestess saw her trying to heave away broken wood with her freshly stitched arm and Y/N found herself forced to abandon her fellow trainees as the old bat smacked her upside the head and squawked about how she was going to break her stitching and complicate the healing process.  
The Miko tried not to pout as she retreated, opting instead to grumble over the old woman’s dramatics as her arm stung and her ego throbbed. When she finally returned to her sleeping quarters, exhaustion slammed into her, making her limbs heavy and leaden. Unable to quite rally the energy to crawl into her futon, she slumped against the doorway of the room, her head and her heart a tangled mess of emotions she couldn’t quite name.
What she’d felt the moment the Water Pillar had stepped into the moonlight had been more than mere relief that he’d managed to save her life for the second time. She’d felt safe, so unbelievably safe that the forest itself could have been on fire and she wouldn’t have been afraid; not as long as he was there with her.
Something between them had shifted; that much was clear. In truth, things likely had begun to change the moment she repaired his haori, and she’d admitted to him her deep-seated loneliness and lack of belonging.
She only hoped he felt the change, too.
Much to Y/N’s chagrin, autumn was quickly giving way to blasted winter.
Though, the Miko hadn’t been able to fully resent the rapid shift in the seasons; repairs at the Shrine had consumed nearly all of her attention, and as Granny’s heir, she was expected to contribute to its reconstruction more than any other trainee.
That expectation meant Granny left the task of figuring out how to finance the necessary repairs entirely to her young protege. Y/N had spent all of two days agonizing over ways to raise the necessary funds when she awoke to find a mysterious sack of money that had been left on the doorstep of the honden. Inside had been an amount more than generous to cover the cost of repairs from the fire, with a hefty remainder that could be put toward other necessary improvements to spruce the Shrine up, and perhaps restore it to its former glory. 
No note had been left with the money to indicate the identity of the Shrine’s benefactor.  But amid all the excitement of her peers at the thought of being able to afford materials and laborers to assist with the more difficult aspects of the Shrine’s refurbishment, Y/N had spotted a familiar crow perched high in a nearby tree.
That position had afforded the bird with a perfect view of the money sack, allowing it to silently ensure it fell into the proper hands. But repairs had finally slowed, and Y/N now found her days returning to normal. Almost. 
What was not normal was how agitated she'd become in waiting for his return.
Another week passed without any communication from the Water Pillar, and the Miko had grown desperate for any sort of distraction. She found herself one late, autumn morning passing the time in the Shrine’s garden hut. She was pretending to be searching for tools that would help her prune the wilting Shrine garden when something grazed against the small of her back. Startled, she turned and was greeted by familiar, unruly raven hair and a pair of deep azure eyes. 
“Giyuu,” his name slid easily off her tongue, and suddenly she could not remember why she’d called him anything else. 
A ghost of a smile graced his lips. “Hello, Y/N.”
A poignant silence followed, and her cheeks grew hot. "Don't mind me," she said quickly, turning her head away from him as she pretended to organize stray gardening supplies. "I am only just now finishing my tasks for the day."
Though he remained silent, she became acutely aware of the way Giyuu’s eyes followed her as she tried desperately to keep herself busy, to avoid having to meet that piercing, discerning stare. 
“I did not get a chance to properly thank you after the turmoil of that night,” she said casually. Nervously, she hoped that his heightened senses did not alert him to the way her heart fluttered in her chest, or how her stomach flipped in her gut. Her nails dug into her palms as she lifted her head to meet that unnerving, fathomless stare.
But the Water Pillar had already closed most of the distance between them, having moved so silently she’d not heard him, despite even the creaky, uneven slatted floor of the garden hut. “How is your wound?” He asked softly, his hand skirting up the outside of the arm Susumo had wounded. “Has it healed?” 
It took a great amount of effort for Y/N to remember how to keep her breathing steady. But she forced her lips into an easy smile as she rucked up the flared sleeve of her kosode to reveal her bicep. “It will likely scar,” she admitted, her fingers lightly tracing over the three, angry red marks that remained imprinted on her skin, though they’d fully scabbed over. “I consider myself quite lucky, all things considered.” 
“Why did you do it?” 
The Miko ducked her head, willing the sheet of her hair to fall and conceal her mounting blush. She did not need to ask him to clarify; she knew after what he was asking.
But she feigned ignorance all the same. “I don’t know what you mean, Tomioka-sama –” 
“Don’t call me that,” and even though she refused to meet his eyes, she could sense his irritation at her avoidance. “We’re well past such formalities, Y/N.” Giyuu stepped closer to her, his cerulean eyes melting into something more akin to the midnight blue of the evening sky. “You kissed me. That night.” The Water Pillar’s hand glided up the arm that Susumo had injured, caressing softly over the healed skin beneath the sleeve of her kosode.
“I-I did no such thing!” Y/N sputtered, though her reddening cheeks betrayed her. “I was only attempting to help you calm down — you were panicking, and inconsolable.” 
Giyuu’s responding smirk only served to irritate her more. “Should I thank you then, Y/N?” His hand slid from her shoulder to below her chin, his delicate fingers curling to tilt her head up towards his, as he closed the distance between their bodies. “Should I show you how grateful I am that you were able to assuage my worry?” 
Y/N tried to focus on anything but the feeling of Giyuu’s breath — warm and enticing — against her face as he leaned in close. “You had no reason to worry; I was completely fine before you showed up.” 
“Fine,” the ravenette scoffed, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. “So fine that you were bleeding and about to become that beast’s snack — or worse.” 
“But you saved me, did you not?” Y/N whispered, unable to stop her eyes from dropping to the Water Pillar’s sensual, soft-looking mouth before rising once more to meet his punishing gaze. “And then I helped you.” 
Giyuu’s second hand brushed against her waist and the shrine maiden thought she might leap out of her skin. “You did,” he conceded, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small, half-smile. “Though I apologize that you needed to do so — I suppose I become a little over-zealous when things that are precious to me are threatened.” 
Even if she could have thought of some witty remark to throw back at him, those words surely would have been blocked by her heart as it lodged in her throat. 
Things that were precious to him. She was precious to him.
“So I’ll ask again, Y/N,” Giyuu whispered, and his nose brushed delicately against hers. “Should I thank you for your assistance?” The fingers beneath her chin stroked her jaw. “Should I kiss you?” 
She fought to suppress the excited shudder that licked up her spine. “Yes, Lord Hashira,” she breathed, and her stomach turned cartwheels as Giyuu’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “Perhaps you should.” 
“Who am I to deny the request of a priestess?” Giyuu murmured, and then his lips were moving against hers, warm and soft. Y/N’s fingers flew to clutch the Water Pillar’s rocky biceps beneath the soft cloth of his haori, anchoring him against her. The hand that had gripped below her chin slid to the side of her face, tilting her head so that the Water Pillar could have better access to her as he pressed his lips harder against hers. 
Y/N moaned into his kiss, wanting him closer, impossibly closer to her than he currently was. 
Giyuu broke away from her once, though he kept a hand on the back of her neck to keep her in place. “What are your duties today?” 
Y/N’s fingers curled around the front of the Water Pillar’s haori, her forehead resting against his. “None of import.” She gave him a sly smile. “No one will miss me if I am gone for a few hours.” 
Giyuu returned her smile with a tiny smirk of his own. “In that case,” he tugged her hand and he began to lead her towards the grassy overlook where they’d spent a great deal of time talking and learning one another. “I could use your assistance.”
Y/N hadn’t greeted the sunrise with the intent to neglect her shrine duties, but she couldn’t say she regretted how she ended up spending the day.
They spent the day resting on the hillside overlooking the shrine grounds, rolling back and forth upon the browning grass as they kissed each other again and again. 
“You weren’t wrong, that day — right after we met,” Giyuu gasped against her lips as they broke apart, the blush on Y/N’s cheeks a sure match to his own. “I do not find you captivating.”
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth parted, a protest on her tongue when Giyuu surged forward, his lips brushing against her neck. The Miko’s words choked off with a squeak as the Water Pillar danced his lips to the hollow of her throat, his tongue flicking out once right where her heart pulsed wildly. 
“I think you are utterly transfixing; enchanting,” he breathed against her skin. “You have cast a spell over me that I do not want broken.”
“I find it hard to believe anyone could wield that sort of power over a Hashira,” Y/N’s voice was high pitched as Giyuu’s lips made their way back to hers.
In the back of her mind, Y/N wondered if his words were motivated purely by his physical desire for her. It would not have surprised her if he was only so taken with her because he longed to be touched; held. Like him, she’d gone much of her life without intimacy from anyone. She could not blame him for seeking it from someone so willing to give as she. 
“But you are not just anyone, not to me.” was all he replied, his lips moving softly against hers once more. “You are…everything.”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The Water Pillars words, dripping like honey from his lips, were only sweetened by the fervent sincerity of his eyes as he pulled back to gaze into hers, so deeply, she felt as though he could see every thought in her head.
She wondered if he lowered that piercing, discerning stare, whether he’d be able to see straight to her heart, too; see how it bore his name. 
Even though her breath guttered in her throat at his words, her heart clenched painfully in her chest. The idea that she’d attached more meaning to their relationship than he, that perhaps she’d overestimated her value to him made her tense, made her want to push him away and —
“You’re distracted,” Giyuu murmured against her lips, brushing his nose against hers. “Your thoughts are loud.” 
Her fingers caught the front fold of his haori, fiddling idly with it. “There is nothing for you to repay, you know. You do not owe me your time or your attention. I know the Shrine is simply a part of your designated patrol. I understand if its convenience is the only reason —” 
A single finger pressed itself against her lips, quieting her. “You think and talk too much.” The ravenette chastised. Her mouth parted, a protest forming on her lips, when he cut her off again. “Ah ah,” Giyuu silenced her with his lips, his tongue flicking out to skim along her bottom lip. Above her, he shifted and allowed his weight to fall against her, pinning her beneath him. Reluctantly, his mouth broke away from hers. “It is my turn to speak.” 
“I do not come to the Shrine because it is easy,” Giyuu’s lips brushed hesitantly against her jaw. “Nor do I come here out of any preconceived obligation to repay your kindness.” 
He pulled back to study her, panting and flushed beneath him. As his eyes slowly combed over her, Y/N felt a strange knot pull and twist in the depths of her stomach. “There is only one thing that brings me back here, no matter how exhausted I am after weeks of endless missions; no matter how often certain junior Corps members pester me to train them.” His eyes narrowed at the hollow of the Miko’s throat, exposed by the way her kosode had shifted as the pair of them rolled around the grass. Curious, Giyuu leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against it. 
And then he did the unthinkable;  the Water Pillar moaned, ever so softly, against the fluttering of Y/N’s frantic pulse. The sound, so rich and full of need – of want – washed over her and drowned out all other thoughts, all other higher reasoning from her mind. INstead, the Miko was left with nothing but the sharp urge to press her thighs together, an unknown heat beginning to pool in her most sacred area. 
“Do you know what that thing is, Y/N?” He whispered against the soft dip in her throat, his breath hot as it fanned across her skin. “Can you guess what it is I cannot stay away from – could not, even if I desired otherwise?” 
His fingers dropped to the collar of her kosode, tracing lightly over its crisp, white fold. “When I close my eyes in the mornings, it is your face I see,” he murmured. “It is your laugh I hear in my dreams; your scent I find myself longing for when I awaken.”
The Miko shivered as his index finger traced from her collar up her throat, over her chin until it came to rest on her bottom lip, gently stroking over its curve. “It is you I seek to turn to remind myself that there is still good in this world – good still worth protecting. Why is that, Y/N?” His eyebrows furrowed and he seemed almost earnest in his question. “Why is it that my mind refuses to be occupied by anything but you?” 
“Because I vex you,” she said softly, eyes wide and locked with his. “Because, try as you might, you’ve never been able to fully fit me into a box as you have with others.” 
Giyuu shook his head. “Vex me?” He tsked at her. “Perhaps once that was true. But now? I desire you in ways I can hardly understand, and it drives me mad.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “What are you saying?” 
“I think I’ve been rather clear,” and instinctively, Giyuu rolled his hips against hers, desperate to relieve some of the friction mounting in his groin. “And it’s that I want –” 
But the Miko did not get to hear what Giyuu wanted; not as he was drowned out by the screeching cry of a bird from high above. Only, this bird was not the dull, graying crow she’d come to associate with her Swordsman.
“I thought your crow was older?”
The Water Pillar frowned as he turned to look up, his eyebrows drawn together. “That’s not Kanzaburo — that’s one of the Master’s —“
“CAW,” the bird circled above their heads in narrow, rapid turns. “Lord Tomioka! Return to headquarters immediately!”
Giyuu’s jaw clenched. “Can it not wait?” 
Y/N, however, only gaped up at the bird flying above them. “It talks —?” 
But the crow only cried again, “Emergency meeting at headquarters!!
With a short, frustrated exhale, Giyuu rolled to the side of the Miko and rose, but not before he extended a hand and helped lift her to her feet.
He gingerly brushed some loose grass from her hair. “I’m sorry.” 
She only shook her head as she reached to adjust his haori, righting it in his shoulders. “It’s your duty, Giyuu. I understand that.”
He scowled back up at the bird still circling above them, bleating a refrain of “Emergency! Go now!”
“I’m not finished with this conversation,” Giyuu said plainly, a frustrated hand working through his hair. Though his annoyance was plain as day, it fell away as he looked back to the Miko at his side, his gaze softening. “Nor am I finished with you.” 
A single finger reached under Y/N’s chin and lifted her head toward him so he could brush another kiss against her lips. “I will come see you – soon.” 
With a shy boldness, the Miko rose on her toes and gave him one final kiss, and Giyuu’s hand tightened where it rested against her waist. “I’ll wait for you, Lord Hashira.”
———
December, 1915
Y/N cursed at the ancient priestess who insisted on using only gas-powered lanterns rather than the newer, much safer, electric powered lights that other shrines had begun using. 
“We are an esteemed shrine dating back hundreds of years,” the old crone had simpered, “Tradition has kept us going this far!” 
Y/N hadn’t helped her cause by asking whether tradition or spite was what kept the hag from dying off and finally leaving her in peace.
And that was how the young Priestess-to-be found herself stomping through the snowy grounds of the Shrine, forced to light each and every lantern by hand using a match and oil, utterly by herself.
She knew better than to levy such an obvious taunt at the old woman, but admittedly, Y/N hadn’t been in the best of moods as of late. 
Giyuu had not returned since that day on the hillside, when he’d kissed her silly and told her he could not stop thinking of her. It was as though he no longer existed; even the crows at the Shrine were no more, having all disappeared one morning before she’d awoken.
As the weeks passed, the weight of his absence had grown heavier, threatening to beat her into the ground below. 
But Y/N had done her best to hold her tongue over the last weeks as her anxiety mounted, and Granny should’ve known that — so really, it was her own fault if she’d taken offense to the Miko’s barb.
She grumbled and cursed under her breath as she trudged toward the small garden hut standing at the furthest edge of the Shrine’s grounds — her last stop of the night. She shoved past the old, rickety door and braced her merrily flickering, hand-held lantern out before her, bathing the small hut in a warm, orange glow.
All was silent and quiet within the small storeroom. The air was cold, though the slatted walls of the hut offered some protection from the howling, snow-dotted winds outside. Determined to complete her task and return to the comfort of her warm futon, the Miko fumbled around one of the store shelves for a small can of oil. 
“It’s you,” a quiet voice startled her from behind, and Y/N nearly dropped the lantern clutched in her hands.
But she did not feel afraid as she recognized the calm, soothing cadence of the voice, that voice that belonged to the one person capable of making her blush. 
The one person who held her heart.
“It’s been a while, Giyuu. I was wondering when I’d see you again.” She turned and saw the raven-haired man standing in the doorway of the garden hut, his face characteristically neutral, though he seemed tense, even more so than usual.
Instantly, she moved toward him. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes tightened, and the darkness which swam within them betrayed his aloof facade. “Things have changed quickly in my world,” he began, and she saw his fists clench at his sides. “We believe the demons are preparing for war — and so we have been as well. 
“War?” She repeated softly, her step faltering. “I hadn’t realized the demons were so…organized.”
Giyuu nodded. “One creature is responsible for all demons. He is the orchestrator; he is the one we must kill, and we believe the opportunity to do so is drawing nearer.”
The monotonous cadence of his voice fell away as he quietly added, “That is why I haven’t been able to return — we’ve been training. This battle — it may start at any moment.”
He made like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself, pressing his lips into a tight line. 
“And?” She prompted gently, taking a solitary step toward him.
“He hesitated, and she spied how his throat worked to swallow. “And I do not know when I will be able to see you again. After tonight.”
Y/N watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his. “When you say you don’t know ‘when’ we will see each other again,” she began, cautiously. “Do you mean ‘if?’”
Giyuu’s answering silence said more than any words could. 
For a moment, the Miko could not remember how to speak, not as she felt the organ in her chest splinter into a thousand, mismatched pieces.
“I just wanted to see you,” the Water Pillar struggled to swallow around the growing lump in his throat. “One last time.” 
She could scarcely breathe. 
He was leaving and he might never return. 
Leaving to go try and put an end to the scourge of demons that plagued their world. It was a noble thing to do; sacrifice in its purest form. 
But she hated it. 
She was filled with such a deep melancholy that it nearly brought her to her knees. As the Water Pillar turned to leave, Y/N couldn’t stop herself as she reached for him, her arms encircling him as her hands locked over his front, stilling him.
“Giyuu,” she said thickly, her face pressed into the back of his haori as she willed the tears in her eyes not to fall. “Giyuu.” 
He turned in her grasp and looked down at her in awe, a finger rising to brush the errant tear that had escaped down her cheek as he held her gaze. 
The flame within her lantern flickered as Giyuu softly grazed his lips against her own, Y/N’s arms weaving around his neck to hold him close to her. 
His hands were gentle, if not a little uncertain as they found her waist, but once they came to a rest against her, he pulled her close, arms winding around her middle and holding her securely against him as he deepened the kiss. She moaned softly into his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair as she opened up for him, his tongue gliding alongside her own until she was left breathless and wanting. 
Vaguely, the Miko was aware that he was walking them deeper into the garden hut, allowing the old door to thud shut behind him, and the thought of not returning to her plush futon suddenly did not seem like such a loss. 
Giyuu’s hands returned to her face, thumbs stroking softly along her cheeks as he broke their kiss to brush his lips against her eyes, her nose, and forehead. Y/N’s hands parted the Water Hashira’s haori from his shoulders as Giyuu’s fingers dropped to her collar bone, sliding beneath her kosode, and grazing her bare shoulder. 
“You have been my most treasured encounter,” he whispered, and she felt her heart seize in her throat, tears threatening to spill anew from her eyes.
A year’s worth of interactions had all led to this moment, but it was not the satisfying payoff of the tension and longing that had been steadily building between them.
This was a goodbye. 
Because it was likely that the Water Pillar would not survive the impending battle; but neither did he want to leave this end untied. 
She had known, deep in her heart, that this affair had been doomed before it had ever begun, but that hadn’t stopped her from falling for the kind, brave, selfless man now kissing her like she was his entire world anyways. 
She would not get to have him in the morning, so she resolved to give herself to him for the night. 
Giyuu’s hands eased her kosode from her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air within the garden hut. His warm hands, however, worked to chase away any chill that spread across her skin as he ran his palms over the curve of her shoulders before sliding down to rest on her bare waist, his long fingers grazing just below the curve of her breasts.
Her own fingers trembled as she fumbled with the buttons on his uniform shirt but in time, she’d worked them open and Giyuu broke their kiss long enough to let his shirt drop to the floor beneath them. 
The two stood there for a moment, chests rising and falling rapidly, as they looked at one another, half-nude and vulnerable. The shrine maiden and the slayer knew that they had come upon a precipice, and if they stepped off that ledge, there would be nothing to break their fall. 
Y/N made the first move, taking a tentative step towards the Water Pillar as she trailed her fingers lightly up the beautiful, sculpted ridges of his abdomen, relishing how warm he was beneath her touch. 
Giyuu shivered beneath her fingertips as the miko’s hand came to a rest against his sternum, marveling the way his heart thundered beneath her hand. “Are you certain?” He breathed, his face was impassive, but his own uncertainty was betrayed by the slight tremor in his voice. His hand rose to gently cup the side of her face, his thumb ghosting over her bottom lip. 
She reached to grab the Pillar’s free hand and brought it up to rest against her sternum, mirroring her own hold on him so that he could feel the steady drum of her own heart — and how it thrummed for him. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m yours, Giyuu.” 
Once, she had believed the Hashira incapable of expressing anything other than cold aloofness. she’d not been able to comprehend the subtle ways with which his eyes could signal his mood; how they darkened when angry, or how the outer corners turned up, almost imperceptibly, when he was content. 
But she had long since learned to read him, and so, her stomach fluttered at the way the raven haired man’s gaze heated with both adoration and desire — for her. 
Giyu brushed his nose against hers affectionately before bringing their lips together once more, his kiss growing fervent as her hands slid up to tangle in his ebony hair. Y/N gasped into his mouth as she felt Giyu bend down, his hands gripping firmly under her thighs as he lifted her up, forcing her to lock her legs around his waist. Her lips parted, and Giyuu’s tongue slid seamlessly into her mouth.
Her lover locked one steely arm firmly around her lower back to support her as Y/N felt him lower them to the floor to lay her down, the Water Pillar’s free hand coming to brace against the back of her skull, to protect her head from thudding back against the wooden slats of the hut floor. The Miko steadied herself, prepared for the cold bite of the dirty hut floor to nip at the bare skin of her back, but she was only settled against something warm and soft; something that smelled distinctively of the Slayer panting above her. 
Her fingers dropped to her side and grazed against the familiar fabric of Giyuu’s haori; his most prized and cherished possession, spread out beneath her to protect her from the cold ground,  a makeshift bed against which she would let him take her and make her his.
He withdrew his lips from hers to sit back, his cerulean eyes tracing over every inch of her, from the way her dark hair spread out in a soft halo around her, to the blush staining her cheeks. His eyes darkened as they lowered to her bare chest, at the way it rose and fell jerkily as Y/N struggled to control her breathing. 
Giyuu’s long, slim fingers reached out to trace along the top of her scarlet hakama pants, his finger tips just grazing along her ribs and the underside of her breasts. 
“I’d never known such -,” He covered his struggle for words by pressing a sweet kiss against the hollow of her throat, a soft gasp escaping the Miko at the unfamiliar sensation. “Such beauty,” Giyuu’s lips trailed down to skirt across the ridge of her collar bone. “Not until I met you.” 
His face was against her sternum, pressing kisses as he trailed his lips down her skin. “I am sorry I could not give you more time.” His voice was soft, softer than even she had ever known. Before she could respond, Giyuu’s mouth hesitantly brushed against the stiffened peak of her breast, and Y/N’s mouth fell open with a soft cry. 
Azure eyes flashed up to meet hers. “Is this — is this okay?” 
The Miko's eyes fluttered shut as she nodded, unable to trust that she could hold her voice steady if she spoke. Her fingers weaved their way through the Pillar’s thick, raven locks, and she grazed her nails against his scalp in encouragement. 
Giyuu grunted softly at her touch, and he leaned forward to suck more of her soft mound into his hot mouth, teeth grazing lightly against her nipple as he explored her. 
“Oh,” she moaned, her thighs inadvertently pressing together as Giyuu’s tongue and lips worshipped her bared flesh, licking and sucking and nipping at her in his devotion. 
“Beautiful,” he murmured against the soft, sensitive skin of her breast. “So very beautiful.” 
He repeated the movement again and again before he traced his mouth across her sternum and began lavishing her other breast with the same fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair as she mewled for him, enamored with the feeling of his hot mouth latched around her. He gave her more and yet it was not enough; every pass of his tongue over her stiffened peak only amplified the ache between her legs, only made the emptiness she felt more pronounced.
A breathy, whining and needy moan blew past her lips in time with a reflexive buck of her hips against his.  
The ravenette pulled off her breast with a start, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed as he gazed down at her in awe. “Do that again.”
“W-what —?” She pushed herself up on her elbows to look down at him, her chest heaving.
“Tell me what to do,” Giyuu’s breath was ragged though his fingers continued trailing down her sides, seeking out the ties securing her bottoms around her waist. “Tell me how I might help you make that sound again.” 
“I –” Y/N squirmed beneath the intensity of his gaze, her thighs rubbing together to stifle some of the electricity she felt between her legs. “I want you to – I need you closer.” 
Her eyes drifted to the bulge that had formed between the Hashira’s thighs, and she felt her heart skip in her chest.
Giyuu pressed his groin against hers and ground. She gasped at the spark of pleasured friction the movement stoked between her thighs, and her eyes flew to meet his, only to see they were as wide as hers. 
And just as hungry. 
Her hand gently cupped his face. “Closer. Please.” 
He pressed his cheek into her palm and with a soft groan, his fingers quickly loosened the fastenings of her bottoms and then he was pushing them down her hips and over her legs, discarding them carelessly to the side. Giyuu sat back on his knees and let his eyes roam her, now fully bare and laid out beneath him. 
When his appraisal of her finally reached the thatch of curls between her thighs, the Water Pillar loosed a shaky breath. She had half a mind to cross her legs, to conceal the most intimate part of her body from the raging fire of his gaze as he studied her, but she forced herself to remain relaxed; open.
One, broad and calloused hand stretched tentatively out to run along the outside of her hip and down her leg, before smoothing back up in the inside of her thigh. His eyes flicked once to hers, and then he leaned forward and brushed delicate kisses down her abdomen, over her hip and along her thigh. He continued his descent as he slowly pushed himself back from her, and once he imparted one last, sweet press of his lips against her ankle, he rose. 
The flickering light of the lantern cast shadows along the alabaster of his skin, further accentuating how the muscles of his torso and abdomen flexed and shifted as he worked to free himself of the remainder of his clothes. His eyes did not leave hers, not even as his hands found the buckle of his belt and tugged it loose, and Y/N found herself free falling into their depths.
The ravenette dropped his belt to the floor, and then his fingers were at the waistband of his trousers, pulling and fiddling with their fastening. At last, Giyuu freed his lower half from the confines of his uniform pants and stepped out from the puddle they made at his feet. 
Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as her eyes raked over his beautiful form, so lean yet solid and muscular. Her cheeks burned with a renewed blush as her gaze followed the small, dark trail of hair beginning just below his navel, and down between his hips, where the evidence of his desire stood proud. 
Her throat went dry. He was large — the flared head of his tip nearly grazed his navel, and his width was a little more than two of her fingers. Her thighs clamped together nervously, as she pondered how on earth she’d be able to accommodate him.
Giyuu noticed her hesitation, and a faint dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. “I have never -“
The shrine maiden shook her head. “Nor I,” she whispered, though the knowledge that this was as new to him as it was to her helped ease the clench in her stomach. For all her nervousness, the Miko could not ignore the heat and longing which burned within her as she lifted her eyes back to his. She found her muscles softening as she saw the same fire within those cyan pools she’d come to love. Y/N laid back against the floor — against the comforting soft of his haori, and let body relax, her legs falling open to him. 
She held her hand out to him, beckoning, “Come back to me, Giyuu.” 
The ravenette did not hesitate as he returned to her, covering her body with his own as he pulled her in for a heated kiss, the weight of his hardened length resting heavily against her hip as he settled between the cradle of her thighs.
Y/N moaned into his mouth, instinctively rolling her hips against him, desperate to feel closer to the man who had claimed her heart before she’d realized anyone was capable of holding it.  
Giyuu groaned, softly, against her as she repeated the movement, breaking their kiss to look down at the flushed Miko threatening to drive him wild with her silken touch. As much as he was desperate to feel her — every part of her — he knew what they were about to do would not be nearly as pleasurable for her as it would be for him. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” the Water Pillar’s eyes were stormy, a tempest of competing desire and pain at the idea of causing her even the slightest discomfort raging within him. 
Y/N brushed her lips against his once before trailing along his jaw, pausing only to suck softly as the soft spot beneath his ear. “I am only ever undone by you; never hurt.” 
He moaned softly, lowering his head back down to reclaim her mouth firmly with his own, his lips beseeching her to let him consume her. 
She was only too happy to do so, parting her mouth so that his tongue could slide in and dance languidly with hers, as he reached between them, gripping hold of his aching length and positioning himself at her entrance. 
The first brush of his hot, velvety tip against her folds broke their kiss, both gasping at the new yet intoxicating feel of the other’s most intimate area. 
Giyuu braced his free arm by her head, his fingers stretching to run comfortingly through her hair, as he pressed his forehead against hers. “If it becomes too much, just tell me, and we can stop.” His voice shook ever so slightly as he waited for her signal, the ache in his groin becoming nearly painful. 
The Miko grazed her lips against his throat. “Don’t stop.” She murmured. She hitched her legs higher up on his hips, angling herself so the trembling man above her would have better access to her. 
Slowly, so very slowly, the tip of Giyuu’s length began to push into her, and Y/N felt herself temporarily forget how to breathe. Above her, Giyuu’s eyes squeezed shut in a concerted effort not to sheathe himself within her in one stroke. 
“Y/N,” Giyuu panted, unable to stop the shaky moan that fell from his lips as he sunk into her warm heat that wrapped tight, so impossibly tight around him.
The shrine maiden winced at the unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable sensation of being slowly stretched and filled by the Pillar. She felt as though she was a wave, crashing and breaking and parting around a rocky shore with every inch gained by the press of his hips against hers. 
Giyuu hardly had a quarter of himself seated within her when he felt his head brush against a thin barrier. His eyes opened to look down at the Miko, panting beneath him, her eyebrows pinched in slight discomfort. When she noticed he’d stopped, she peered up at him through her thick eyelashes, her cheeks flushed. 
The hand Giyuu had held at his base to help guide himself within her lifted to grip her hip, her legs relaxing as his fingers massaging soothing circles into her flesh. Giyuu removed his forehead from its resting place against hers and he buried his face into the side of her neck as he pressed his body flush against hers. The hand he’d used to brace himself found hers, and he lifted to rest above her head, his fingers twining tightly with her own. 
“I’m okay,” she whispered, pressing a sweet kiss against the shell of his ear. Giyuu nearly shuddered at her words, and he pressed his hips forward, his cock finally breaching that thin, inner barrier to the rest of her welcoming heat. 
Y/N cried out at the bright spark of pain that flared through her as Giyuu claimed her as his own, but the Pillar held her steady, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her neck. 
A hitched gasp blew past Giyuu’s lips as he became fully seated within her heat, her core gripping him like a vice. He panted against the sweat-dampened skin of her neck as they both adjusted to the sensation, her nails digging harshly into the skin of his back as she waited for the discomfort to subside. 
Giyuu pulled his face back to look down at her, the hand he’d had on her hip rising to cup her face as he brushed his lips across her cheeks and eyes. 
“My beloved, are you all right?” His breath came hard and fast as he panted, the growing friction between where they were connected becoming hotter, more demanding the longer he remained still. 
Y/N’s eyes slowly opened to meet his, he felt her relax as he kissed her, slow and gentle. 
Her lips broke from his and she nodded, shakily. “You can move — just hold me. Please.” 
Giyuu let his full weight fall against her as he wound an arm tightly around her waist, his other hand tilting her face up so he could kiss her fiercely, eager to show her what she meant to him when his words otherwise failed to do so. As she opened up to him, tongue flicking out shyly along his lip, Giyuu rolled his hips experimentally against hers. 
Both the shrine maiden and the Pillar cried out in unison as Giyuu’s movement stoked an intense pleasure where they were joined.
It was like a spark of flame had ignited between her legs before shooting up to her belly, making her insides clench and pulse. 
It was addicting, and, judging by the way the raven haired swordsman above her hissed, he’d felt that jolt of electrifying pleasure, too.
“Oh,” Giyuu moaned as he began to move atop her, his cock sliding in and out of her heat as he worked to set a pace. “You feel – this is –” his stutters broke off  into ragged pants that melted into broken moans with every movement as he found his rhythm.
The grip he had on her hand tightened as he pulled back from her neck in favor of watching her body jolt and bounce with each of his thrusts. 
His head dropped down to study how his length, now coated in something shiny, appeared with every long draw of his hips out before disappearing back into her warmth. 
He threw his head back. “Heaven,” the Water Pillar groaned out, a tendon throbbing in his neck as another cracked moan slipped free from his throat. “You are heaven.” 
Shallow thrusts turned deeper, more purposeful, as the Water Pillar settled into his tempo. Each push of his hips opened her up more, bit by bit, until Y/N’s limbs liquified and she was left moaning and whimpering in time with his movements.
One particular thrust made her cry out, caused her legs to reflexively tighten around Giyuu’s hips as something hot flared deep within her stomach. 
“M-more,” she managed, her voice tapering off with a squeak. She needed to feel that spark again, wanted to feel that jolt of electricity that made her stomach clench. “P-please — ah!— Giyuu —“ 
With something between a moan and a growl, Giyuu  angled himself to thrust deeper, his weight pushing her hips back from the floor. Her legs were forced to hike higher up his waist, her ankles locking instead against the dip in his spine rather than his backside. 
The new angle meant that Giyuu was able to hit at a spot that sent a bolt of lightening between her legs, and she could feel herself tighten around him. 
The combination of her walls fluttering and pulsing around him and the strange fullness she felt was both overwhelming and exhilarating. She did not think she could stand to feel empty again; to not feel him consuming every inch of her.
Gradually, the small garden hut was filled by the sounds of their pants and moans, weaving together to form the melody of a song meant only for them.
Giyuu began thrusting harder, and soon, a dull clap of skin began to reverberate off the hut’s slatted wood walls, adding a steady beat to the rhythm of their pleasure. Though the air inside the hut had been nearly as frigid as what lay beyond its door, both the Miko and the Slayer found themselves coated in a thin sheen of sweat that made their skin glisten in the faint, orange glow of her lantern.
Above her, the Water Pillar was as lost in his pleasure as she. Guided purely by instinct, Y/N arched her lower back away from the floor until her breasts were flush against his sternum, desperate to feel that jolting spark between her legs. 
She felt the walls her of her core clench tighter around Giyuu’s length with her movement, and he answered her with a deep growl as his arm cinched tighter around her waist.
Deep; he was so deep within her, that she wondered whether he might reach her soul before they had to part.
Giyuu’s thrusts quickened, the base of his groin grinding against that sensitive spot between her thighs that had her wanting more as she moaned, her thighs squeezing the Hashira’s hips.
His head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut as the most beautiful sounds of pleasure Y/N had ever heard poured from Giyuu’s mouth.
“I — fuck.” He growled as one arm tightened around her waist to the point of pain, the other grabbing her hand to bring it to his lips in a futile attempt to stifle the sounds lilting from him like song. 
His name fell from her lips like a hallowed oath and Y/N’s legs fell to the side, allowing Giyuu to chase the crescent of his release, as hips pistoned into her with wild abandon. 
“Y-Y/N,” her black-haired beauty of a lover grit through clenched teeth, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. “My treasure, I-I’m gonna-“ 
The Water Pillar buried his face into the side of her neck, cradling his groans into her throat, and Y/N could feel his length twitch within her.
As Giyuu’s hips slammed into her one final time, so to did the realization that she loved this; she wanted always to be this close to him, wanted always to be unable to tell where she ended and he began.
She loved him. 
But the bitter truth was that she’d never again get to hold Giyuu the way she was right then, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she felt something warm gush through her, a pleasured groan, so beautiful and husky tumbling from the Hashira’s lips as he pressed a sweet kiss against her collarbone. 
She would not get to love him past this most sacred rite. 
If she were honest, she’d likely never again experience this intimacy with anyone, for as long as she lived — for how could anyone else ever possibly compare? 
She supposed she’d been doomed to never hold onto the people who were meant to love her since the day she was born. She should’ve known better.
But as the roll of Giyuu’s hips into her heat slowed, and his labored breaths eased, Y/N could not find it within herself to regret it; to regret him. 
Because, fool though she was, she loved him. 
Giyuu collapsed against her, his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck as he came down from his high, still buried inside her as the two panted. 
Her hands moved of their own accord to card through his raven hair, fingertips massaging his scalp as his breathing slowed, his breath adding further moisture to the already sweat-dampened skin of her neck. 
She wished they could remain like that always; that the dawn creeping over the horizon would not herald forth the sun, and they could stay on the floor of the garden hut forever, wrapped in one another’s embrace. She desperately wanted to memorize the tempo of his heart as it beat steadily against his chest, the vibrations of which she felt against her ribs. Such a beautiful melody, it was, and yet it filled her with such despair to know she might never again hear its sweet song; that it might cease playing forever, the moment Giyuu resumed being the Water Pillar once more, and walked through the shrine gates for the last time. 
But Y/N had never had anyone she could call her own, and as much as she loved the man nuzzling her neck as he whispered sweet nothings against her skin, he’d never been hers to keep. 
“My beautiful, beautiful Y/N,” Giyuu murmured, kissing his way up her throat to her lips. “Are you alright?” 
She held his lips for a moment before breaking away, letting her eyes roam his face, and she nodded. “Are you?” 
To her utter surprise, the Water Pillar chuckled softly, his laugh breathy and his smile heartbreakingly beautiful. “Yes, my treasure. I am more than alright.” 
He brushed a kiss against the tip of her nose. “After all, I am with you.”
———-
He’d brought her against his chest and they’d laid there together, simply staring at one another, trading soft kisses as Giyuu traced a finger over every feature of her face at least twice. 
If he was to die, he knew his last thoughts would be of her, and he wanted to be sure he’d committed every last detail of her face to memory.
Soon, far too soon, the deep indigo of the night sky was broken by the first, watery rays of morning light, and both the Miko and the Slayer knew their time was up.
The lovers dressed quickly, their backs to one another as both steeled themselves for the goodbye they could no longer avoid. 
And now, that time had come. Though it was Giyuu who walked to his likely doom, Y/N felt as if she was embarking on her own death march as the pair drew near the towering Shrine gate. Perhaps she was; after all, he would be taking her heart with him, and she was unlikely to get it back.
Y/N did not know whether to lean in and kiss him, one last time, or whether such a display of affection would only scratch at the gaping, open wounds they now bore on their chests, where their hearts had been. 
Giyuu, apparently, did not know what to do either, so the two only stood there beneath the Torii, eyes swimming with emotions neither could bear to voice. 
There was a beat, and then the two moved toward one another, drawn together like magnets as they locked themselves in a tight embrace. Giyuu’s hand cupped the back of her skull as Y/N pressed her face hard into his shoulder. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his haori, desperate to keep him rooted to her — to life, safe and away from demons. 
But he couldn’t stay; she knew that. And so, with a deep inhale in a desperate attempt to memorize that mahogany and citrus scent of his she so adored, Y/N pulled away. She made to step back from him entirely, to put distance between them, but those warm fingers caught her under her chin, tilting her head up to face him before his hand slid to cup her cheek. 
The emotion swimming in the azure depths of his irises threatened to chisel away at the lock she kept on her own. Tears burned in her eyes, but she would not let them fall; she would not make this harder for herself — for him — than it already was. 
“If you do not hear from me, leave the mountain. Go to the city, and do not go out at night. Keep your dagger and wisteria on you at all times, even when you sleep,” Giyuu’s eyes were serious, the hand on her face holding her in place. “Live, Y/N. Grow to be an old woman. Die only from age.”
The shrine maiden closed her eyes as she willed herself not to cry. “And if you win?” 
Giyuu hesitated for a moment and Y/N knew better than to ask him to make a promise he could not keep. 
“Send a crow, if you can.” She whispered, feigning a small smile. “It would be nice to not be afraid to go and gather night-blooming herbs.”
The Water Pillar nodded, his hand smoothing through her hair one last time as his lips pressed against her forehead. “Thank you, Y/N.” 
She didn’t need to ask what for.
She hoped she’d never forget the way he said her name; the longing and the breathless passion that dripped from every syllable, and the way it sent shivers down her spine. 
Giyuu broke away from her and set off towards the east. Y/N watched until he was nothing more than a speck on the horizon, before he disappeared entirely. 
He did not look back. 
————————
He hadn’t trusted himself to look back at her, though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to turn around and behold her beauty one last time. But the Shrine Maiden had become his largest weakness, and Giyuu knew if he’d looked back, he would never make it back to his estate; to the Corps. 
And if you win? She’d asked him, and he hadn’t been able to form the words of the answer he’d so desperately wanted to give her.
Because while Giyuu Tomioka never made promises he couldn’t keep, that did not mean he didn’t hope. Right then, more than anything, his greatest desire was to win this war; win it, and come back and tell Y/N that she no longer needed to fear the night. 
In any other life — if Giyuu had been any other man — there would be no question as to who he’d choose to spend the rest of his days with. 
And so, Giyuu thought as he forced himself to march forward, his eyes burning, if he made it out of this war alive, he would go back to the Shrine and tell Y/N of their victory himself.
And perhaps she’d then allow him to make her his wife.
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Keep an eye out for Part II to see if Giyuu comes back and makes good on his promise!
COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ALWAYS APPRECIATED!
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angelfic · 1 year
Text
— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY
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pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader
summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either
warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited
author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!
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He had barely looked away from you all evening.
You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.
Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.
“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.
You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.
“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.
“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”
You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”
“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”
“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.
“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.
You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.
“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.
“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.
You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.
You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.
Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.
“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”
Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.
“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”
“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.
“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”
You blink at her, a little speechless.
“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.
Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”
“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”
“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.
Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.
As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.
“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”
“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”
“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”
Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.
“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”
Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.
By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.
“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.
“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”
“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.
“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”
“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.
“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.
“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”
“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.
“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”
“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”
“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”
Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.
“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”
“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”
“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”
You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.
“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”
Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”
“What?” you ask, impatient.
“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.
“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.
“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”
The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.
“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”
Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”
“I- I don’t…”
“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”
“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.
Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”
All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.
“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”
Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”
You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.
“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”
 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”
“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”
“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”
“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”
You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”
“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”
“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”
“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”
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© angelfic 2023.
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enkvyu · 1 year
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12:45am — gojo satoru ;
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“cute earrings, where’d you get them?” shoko asks.
“hm?” still clinging to sleep, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the metal dangling from your ear. the sharp indents of its gem pricks you back into a memory. “oh, these. i got them from a friend last week.”
“friend? or do you mean boyfriend?”
shoko’s words are throwaway, her wandering eyes and yawn a clear indication yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."
shoko hums, shifting her cigarette to the other end of her mouth. her gaze flickers somewhere behind you and you almost look too, when her words pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”
“my type?” your mind blanks. “i’ve probably never told you because i’ve never thought about it myself. i mean, being a jujutsu sorcerer and all, romance is kind of off the table.”
shoko keeps looking at you, pressing you without words. you grimace and sigh.
"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good looking? someone who’s not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they'd have to be smart, but not book-smart, like, street-smart." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humour, someone who will make me laugh.”
“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”
you giggle. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”
“you'll always have me.” shoko says, grinning.
you push her shoulder but don’t deny it.
yaga walks into the classroom, cutting your conversation short. you spin around in your seat to face the front, eyes accidentally meeting gojo’s. he turns around too, and you reason that he was probably looking out the window behind you. you see getou snicker and whisper something in his ear, but gojo seemed to be having none of it, blatantly ignoring him.
seeing his face makes you think. didn’t gojo kind of match your type? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and maybe not academic smart, but he definitely carried an air of confidence when it came to fighting. and it wasn't a secret that he lightened the air wherever he went, intentionally or not.
with a start, you look back at shoko. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”
“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” shoko chuckles. “are there any more?"
yaga slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.
your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and predictable missions. by the end of the day, you can't even remember what you had told shoko early that morning.
when you enter the classroom the next day, you’re surprised to find gojo already there, seated at his table. his sunglasses hangs lower on his nose than usual and most curiously of all, a book is held in his hands. you’re not sure if he’s actually reading or not considering that pages were being turned far too quickly for someone reading “ordinary objects” by amie thomasson.
his eyes flicker to yours as you head in. “good morning.”
“morning. what’s with you?”
gojo clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”
your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my potted plant, gojo i told you to take good care of it!”
“i am taking care of it! it’s not dead yet!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”
“you sure?”
“i am.”
you narrow your eyes before looking away, dropping into your seat. “it better be. shoko got me that one.”
“speaking of shoko, is she not coming today?”
“i think she stayed overnight at the morgue.”
“is that so? perhaps i should write notes for her. i wouldn’t want her to miss out on class.”
you turn to him horrified. “so you did kill my plant!”
“i said it’s not dead!” gojo bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i simply worry for her.”
you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong?”
“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"
“well you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”
gojo leans forward. “yes?”
“crazy.”
he falls back in his chair, groaning, book forgotten and placed harshly down on the table.
you tilt your head. “where's getou, you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”
gojo peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”
“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch gojo mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.
he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.
you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favourite anime had delayed it’s upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with getou, leading to this strange attitude.
the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to getou's usual behaviour.
“are you trying to be like getou?” you try.
gojo whirs around to face you. “what?”
“well, you’re trying to be composed.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”
gojo remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.
gojo speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.
“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”
he doesn’t register your question. “you think getou is well-mannered?”
“yeah?”
“and calm?”
you nod. “more than you, at least.”
“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”
the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”
“oh my god, you do.”
“no? i mean, i think getou’s great and everything—”
“you think getou’s great?”
“don’t you?”
“you think getou’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think getou’s great.”
"what are you even saying?"
"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"
baffled, you flail for words. “are you jealous of him? that's strange, i didn’t think either of you would ever feel jealous of each other.”
gojo grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “me neither.”
the door to the classroom is thrown open and getou steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and gojo as you both watch him enter.
“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.
“nothing!”
“nothing.” gojo says and glares at him.
getou blinks.
“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”
“gojo’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”
“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. gojo, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”
"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."
"so i did do something. you're so predictable, gojo."
you snicker as gojo huffs and glances away, looking away out the window behind your head. his train of sight cuts right past you but you can’t help but feel slightly flustered as he looks on, almost like he was looking at you, so determined to ignore getou’s pestering.
subconsciously, you drown getou out too, your traitorous mind observing the blue in gojo’s eyes. you had always thought it was just one colour, but looking at it now, it seemed more like a kaleidoscope of blues, the many shades sparkling and dimming as he watched birds flutter outside the window, and you watched their shadows through his eyes.
something shifts, in the air or in the skies you don't know, and gojo meets your eye. startled, you hold the gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.
you look away hastily and inhale.
gojo glances to the front, oddly fidgety.
getou looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”
“nothing.” gojo says.
getou clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one either. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was and your realisation is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.
gojo clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”
at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns as you don't give him any other reaction.
yaga saves you from addressing his statement, walking into the room as the bell for class rang. "oh? you're all early, even you gojo. where's shoko?"
“she’s staying at the morgue because of the recent mission.”
“i see.” yaga nods. “then let’s start.”
your mind fails to work as you turn over gojo’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?
slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with gojo and the talk you had with shoko yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.
did that mean…?
someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked getou?
you watch gojo’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.
seconds tick past. yaga’s voice drawls on and yet gojo doesn't even spare you a glance.
no, maybe you were wrong after all.
just as you were about to face yaga again, gojo’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.
oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.
gojo has a crush on getou.
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filler imagine based off of that One scene from the manga: "megane tokidoki yankee kun"
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strangeasexuallegume · 2 months
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I redesigned the EG Mane Six! I tried to go based of the general design ideas of the originals, though I did deviate where I felt it better suited the characters.
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Twilight: For Twilight I mostly went for something that could look decent enough to make up for the fact that she has definitely been wearing it three days in a row. That bitch is NOT taking proper hygiene and you know it. I also wanted to play around with the idea of her struggling to walk no matter what, making her own mobility aids (that are albeit low quality and seriously uncomfortable since she was working with what she had) the first night that she was there, and then at some point Rarity reveals that she purchased and bedazzled a much better and comfier set of aides for Twilight. Other than that, not much else to say.
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Fluttershy: Tbh, I don’t have much to say about her other than True Stoner Rights and also I wanted to give her a look that would look nice enough to wear to school without risking being picked on, and also isn’t too outside her comfort zone. The look is based on what I thought as a kid was “Parisian fashion.” I imagine that that Fall Formal dress is actually outside her comfort zone, but she didn’t wanna make Rarity come up with a different outfit and honestly the whole thing was outside her comfort zone so it’s whatever.
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Rainbow Dash: I HAD TO FIX IT. RDS IS THE ONLY ONE IM CONSIDERING FIXED BECAUSE THIS IS NOT. MY. GIRL!!!! First off, why did they make her a SOCCER PLAYER??? TRACK IS LITERALLY HER THING SHE WAS BUILT FOR SPEED— I made her a track athlete instead. Second off OH MY GOD THESE OUTFITS ARE SOOOO NOT HER STYLE UGH, I KNOW THAT THESE DESIGNS ARE MOSTLY TO GO WITH THE SAME TREND AS MONSTER HIGH BUT TRJEJSHDJDGSISDRAGH THIS IS NOT RAINBOW DASH!! SAME THING WITH HER FALL FORMAL OUTFIT WHAT IS THIS, THIS ISNT WHAT SHED WEAR TO A PARTY!! UGH!! STUPID!!!!!
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AJ: A lot of her outfit was me working on pure nostalgia from when I was a kid in the early 2010’s. (Oh yeah I forgor to mention, I tried to change these designs to fit what I thought would work for 2013. Aside from Twilight, she looks more current to look more out of place) I remembered stuff like the ankle/shin high boots with all the different buckles that I remember adoring, the jeans or shorts that’d have all sorts of pretty embroidery on them, etc. etc. I also wanted to try and make her fall formal dress look more casual, which I figured would work since I’m assuming Fall Formal is sort of like the homecoming of this universe. Overall, hers was one of the most fun to design.
Side note, RD and AJ are making fun of each other’s trademark poses in all of the default pngs
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Rarity: She was kinda easy, I don’t have a lot to say about her if I’m being honest. I think she was the one that the designers ate with the most. Even her fall formal dress, there’s not much I wanted to change and was actually kinda stumped for a bit on what to do differently.
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Pinkie Pie: she is my Maximalist Kandi Scene Furry Queen. When dying her hair she either did it herself or told the person at whatever salon she went to that she wants to “look like an acid trip.” The non binary flag was made one year after EG first appeared but the genderqueer flag was made in 2011 so Pinkie Pie got True Genderqueer Rights. I couldn’t control myself and gave her straps. She stands out like a bleeding thumb. I love her. By far the most fun design. This was so incredibly self indulgent and I couldn’t be happier.
Edit: forgot to add, I used this pose reference by @albanenechi !
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2K notes · View notes
slutofpsh · 4 months
Text
f1 racer | psh.
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part one
pairings: park sunghoon x reader
synopsis: f1 racer park sunghoon is the ace of their team until he got into a terrible accident causing of his sudden hiatus. the incident injured his shoulder and affected his mental health. you are hired by his mother to help him get through this tough times as you are one of the best psychiatrist in town. he hated the idea of being vulnerable so instinctively, he hates you. he hates how you try to get into his head for him to open up and he hates his parents for meddling with his life like he’s a kid. but he couldn’t deny that you are exceptionally beautiful and he can’t help his cock from twitching just by imagining pushing you down on your office table, fucking you deep and hard until you can’t think straight anymore.
wc: 14k
warnings: mdni. smut with slight plot, lots of dirty talking, degrading, corruption kink, minors dni, p into v raw (please always use protection), dom sunghoon, slight rough sex, reader experiencing sexual harassment. IF YOU DON’T LIKE ANY OF THIS PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL AWAY.
note: i have no right and enough knowledge with medical terms so disregard my claims as it came from my imagination to fit my plot. i’m new with writing smuts so please don’t give rude comments. i am still learning. also please send me asks and reblog my work. it will help a lot. thank you so much!
slutofpsh 2024 © all right reserved.
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“Famous ace racer of the team (f1 team) reportedly caught on an accident last night. Medics who said to arrive at the scene says that he was in a bad condition...” the voice of the news reporter serves as your background music as you’re busy putting coffee on your brewing machine.
It was yet another busy monday for you. One of your colleagues gave you a ring moments ago just to ask you for a favor to fill in for her. You’re suppose to go at the hospital after lunch, but that plan was thrown far out the window.
Being someone who needs to pay expensive rent and lots of bills, you accepted it in exchange of receiving her full payment for these sessions.
People around you always says how workaholic you are and that you should at least learn to loosen up, have fun, date and have sex. You’ll be lying if you say those thoughts didn’t popped inside your mind once in a while, but you knew you have bigger responsibilities at the moment.
Maybe you’ll do all that once you’re a little bit more stable in life. Right now, its not the case so you have to go work.
The drive to the hospital you’re currently working at was short. Multiple vans of tv media reporters blocked the parking lot, putting you off into a slightly foul mood. You groaned and tried your best to find a good spot without scratching any of the vehicles around.
“What in the world is happening...” you softly mumbled, clueless.
After finally making it inside alive, you saw your secretary arriving just on time. She smiles and wave at the sight of you and head towards the elevator together. The sight of the security pushing the reporters out caught your attention before the door of the lift shuts completely.
“Wah, media these days are scary. How can celebrities stand them?” your secretary commented, probably annoyed by all the chaos at the lobby.
“Yeah, they’re basically getting crazy down there.”
She nods, agreeing.
“I can’t blame them. One of the biggest personality in our country got into an accident last night so they’re probably trying to get a scoop of information as much as they can.” she continuously fills you in.
Your head nods slowly, not totally interested about the ‘one of the biggest personality’ being mentioned. This hospital is pretty much located at the center of the big city and famous people often comes here. It isn’t a big deal anymore for you.
Besides, you're more interested on how you will make more money rather than be nosy of who’s confined at your hospital. The last thing you would want is to get involve with a big personality.
The day went on smoothly, met up with the clients scheduled for today. You started packing up after your last session, it was around 4pm. This is why you like to be busy, because its more convenient for you. Days pass by quickly and you’re off to your home even before you know it.
Three knocks from the door to your office is what snapped you back to reality. Your white coat hangs slightly loose over one of your shoulder as you’re about to take it off. The possiblity of that person knocking to be your secretary is low, since she usually alert you through the intercom that she will come in before knocking.
After taking off your coat, your eyes are still darted at the direction of your office door.
“Come in.” you softly stated and you heard the sound of the knob moving.
“I heard from the lobby that you are here so I thought I should make a visit.” his professional tone, yet a little softer rings to your head.
Your eyes grow a little out of surprise then you bowed your head for greeting. His eyes scanned you shortly before it moves around your cozy office. He already made multiple compliments on how your office just feels so warm and comforting.
That’s exactly the vibe you wanted to give off when you personally chose the furnitures and design for this room. Since you’re a psychiatrist who focused on patients who experienced traumatic incidents in their life, you don’t want the location of your sessions to have the impression of a workplace. Patients usually go here to meet you for sessions and their peace of mind and comfort is what you prioritize the most.
“Oh, thank you...” you flash him an awkward smile, hands rests at both of your sides.
It isn’t a surprise that your director paid you a visit for today. He always does that in order to keep on check with his employees. You appreciate it, truly. It's just he’s a little too friendly towards you. Sometimes it makes you uncomfy and afraid that other doctors may misunderstood things.
“Anyway, you must had a long day.” he took steps closer and when you’re reachable, he stretches an arm over you. His hand rests at your shoulder and he clapped on it gently before sliding it down your arm to caress it.
It sent shivers through your spine and you didn’t like it one bit. Unfortunately, you have no choice but to live through it for now. As he’s very powerful and one bad word from him and you can kiss your job goodbye. That’s the last thing you want.
“I should leave you.” he says in a low voice while eyes roams around your face.
You hated every second of it, but you didn’t say anything. He smiles and you flashed him one as well. He raised his hand and lightly pinched your cheeks once before exiting himself from your office.
Finally out of your sight, you manage to sigh heavily. You've been holding your breath ever since he entered your office. It’s slightly making you feel bad, but you feel like he will take advantage of you sooner or later. The feeling of uneasiness are very evident whenever he’s around you.
It’s bad to judge people easily, but that’s mainly it is. You’ve spent years studying and understanding human’s way of thinking. Resulting for your instincts around them to be heavily accurate most of the time.
And your instinct are setting off negatively with your director. The only solution you can think of is to quit this job after you have enough money to build your own small clinic.
In order to have that, you have to work extra hard. For your dream and for your peace of mind.
You finished packing your things and left your floor. While inside the elevator, it stops at a certain floor. You unconsciously moved towards the side giving whoever it is a space for the lift. When the door opened, a beautiful woman wearing black sexy dress steps in.
She seems surprised to see that there’s somebody inside and so her teary eyes grew a bit big. Avoiding to make the atmosphere even more awkward, you bowed and flashed her a warm smile. She nods and glanced away.
Based on how she carry and dress herself, you can tell that her line of work may have something to do with her face. Model? That’s one of your guesses.
By the short eye contact with her teary eyes, you catch a glimpse of guilt and small regret filling them. And also greed that’s trying to push them all at the back of her mind.
You tried to shove these thoughts off of your mind as you’re practically done with work. Even if you cannot help trying to read people’s personality base on first impression, you have strict rules of avoiding it once shift is over.
You’re the first one to leave the lift as you get off at the lobby where you entered this morning. Ignoring her eyes watching you closely as you walk off without sparing her any glance.
It was a long day for you and the last thing you want is to get involve with some drama. Obviously, she’s going through something. But what’s new to that? Everyone in this world is going through things. We just really have to keep it altogether and wait until things gets better for us.
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It's been months and you put your focus on making money. Working really hard, filling in for your colleagues and also attending your own session. It was a routine you got used to, world revolving between home and to the hospital.
“There she is,” you bowed politely as you enter the office of your head doctor for the psychiatric ward.
Three heads snapped at your direction as you approach closer and the two of them are completely unfamiliar for you. By the way they dress, you can already tell that they’re important people. The type of people who reeks of money and connections.
“Mr and Mrs. Park, this is Doctor (surname).” your director introduced you to them. Even if you’re a little confused, you gave them a polite bow before sitting down at the chair in front of them.
“She’s the most recommended psychiatrist in our hospital and I really think she’s the one who can help your son.” the director added that made you realized that the two people in front are potention source of income.
With a warm welcoming smile, you pay close attention to the two of them to give good impression. Mr. Park have a serious look on his face, just a small smile from earlier and that’s all. Just by the looks of it, he’s a very reserved man. He seem to know the power he holds and so you guess he isn’t someone very friendly. Doesn’t really try hard to please other people.
Mrs. Park is elegant. The perfect epitome of graceful partner of somebody who holds so much power. She is very pretty as well, her smiles gives you the impression that she’s very family oriented.
“Their son needs assistance as he got involve with an accident months ago.” your head doctor tried to fill you up and instantly, you are on your professional mode.
With a nod, you smoothly fished your pen placed at the small pocket of your white gown then grabbed a paper not far away from you.
“Hmm, may I ask you guys a few questions?”
Mr. and Mrs. Park’s a little caught off-guard at how straightforward you are so they glanced over the head doctor. She quickly flashed them assuring smile.
“Go ahead, I’m sure Doctor (surname) perfectly knows what to do.” she added and with her words, they seem to let their guards down slightly.
“Yes, Doctor.” Mrs. Park says.
You smiled, “Does the patient personally asked to seek for professional help?”
Its a key point to know for you to know what kind of approach you need to utilize for this particular patient.
“No. Actually, he refused to see doctors and deny his need of it, claiming he’s perfectly fine. But me and his Father really wants him to atleast try.” the look on her eyes flashes genuine care and concern for her son.
“That’s totally okay, Mrs. Park. Sometimes, people who underwent accidents tries to deny that something changed within them when in reality there is. May I ask any behavioral changes within the patient, if there any?” and you continued jotting down on your paper.
Mr. Park silently watched how well you’re dealing with them. You looked so young, maybe around the age of their son and yet this is how professionally you handle things. His tensed shoulder relaxed a bit, realizing that they did the right choice of coming here.
“Yes...” Mrs. Park pursed her lips, blinks a couple of times trying not to get emotional just by the thought of her son.
“He shuts people out, doesn’t communicate with anybody and he gets pissed or annoyed so easily.” she sighs, eyes getting teary. “I mean, he doesn’t really have the best patience even prior to the accident but he’s just oddly cranky.”
You nodded your head and just proceeds on writing them down. This isn’t the first time you encountered patients that have the same personality with their son. This is what happens when someone had an accident that affected their life. They can be undergoing through post traumatic depression which is pretty serious as it can be dangerous.
“Can I schedule his sessions?”
They looked relieved at your question, happy that you agreed to take their son. Mrs. Park nodded her head and you continued on discussing them through the process of the sessions, letting them the available slots they can arrange for their son.
Normally, you would take patients to meet patients two times a week but they demand for a three meetings per week. You are a little hesitant about it because that only means you have to put him on Fridays as well. It's your day off.
“Please, Doctor. We will pay extra for the friday sessions.” and there it is. They offered you what you couldn’t decline the most.
Oh how nice could it be to have so much money. After finally settling with the Parks, you managed to agree on the schedules and they thanked you. They told you that they really hope you can help their son. You haven’t met him yet and one rule with doctors is you couldn’t give them false hope, but you shouldn’t give them the impression of failing as well.
“I will do my best.” and you bowed.
You parted ways with them and you went straight to your shared room with your colleague, also a good friend of yours. The moment you stepped in, you can feel her piercing and curious eyes following you.
“So did you accept it?” your head cranes over to the side to glance at Hana. She’s still wearing her white coat while she rest her back at the swivel chair. As far as you remember, her shift is over already. Why she’s still here is a big mystery for you.
“Yes. It’s a good offer.” you gave her a short shoulder shrug.
She sighs and watch how you took off your white coat then hangs it on your chair. Obviously, you are clueless of the situation you just got yourself into. She hates how workaholic you are and how you’re one of the best psychiatrist in the hospital. Mainly why you’re at the top list of the recommended doctors.
Not that she envy you or anything. She genuinely cares for you and she’s worried of how you’re overworking yourself. Not to mention you’ll be having someone very important as your client.
“Do you know who’s going to be your patient?” her tone sounded challenging, arms crossing as she waits for your answer.
You nod your head, eye glancing at the folder laid beside your keyboard. It was handed by your secretary while you discuss something with the head doctor. She reminded you to do a good job as accepting the Park’s can either do good or bad for you.
“Yes. Mr. Park Sunghoon.” you said in a monotonous tone.
She rolls her eyes, “He’s not just Park Sunghoon, y/n.” she sighs and tilts her head. “He’s the ace driver of a famour F1 team. The young bachelor who got into a terrible accident three months ago.”
That clearly rings a bell. You can remember how some of the hospital staffs are going crazy for such individual. F1 racers are truly a big thing for your country, but you’re never interested towards it so don’t have any clue who they are.
You’ve always thought that those type of sport are just out of your league. If he manages to drive for the whole country with extremely expensive cars just indicates how wealthy their family is. Sounds like so much drama for you. Not totally your cup of tea, all you want is the good pay.
“Don’t worry, I can handle.” you assured her.
“I know you’re good with your job, y/n and I have no doubt with your skills.” she starts that slightly moved you. She rarely talks like this and to hear it right now means she’s really serious about it.
“He’s known for being very stubborn. If he’s already like that before the accident, imagine how he can be much worst after it. I heard he’s refusing to do rehab for his shoulder and to drive again for his team.”
You are dumbfounded for the new informations coming from your friend. When his parents seeked for your help, you already knew that it is serious. But not like this. He’s refusing to drive again?
“y/n?” your friend tries to snap you back to reality.
You let out a sigh and flashes another smile for her. “Did you forget? I’m good with stubborn people. I've been dealing with them ever since I graduated from the University.” you tried to joke on it.
She pouts her lips and heaved a sigh, thinking that maybe she really is just overthinking things. She nods.
“Well, you are right. And besides, he’s dead gorgeous.” then she sent you a wink. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“You’re unbelievable.”
But it seems like she was not kidding when she said that Park Sunghoon is very hard headed. You think little of it not until you came face to face with the handsome racer.
His visuals are ethereal. No words can perfectly describe how breathtaking he is up in person. Of course, after your friend had informed you that he is handsome, you made research. Trying to just familiarize yourself with your newly acquired client.
It wasn’t hard to find something about him through the internet as he’s very famous. Skin so white and flawless, hair pitch black along with his thick brows and long eyelashes that perfectly decorates around his beautiful eyes. His eyes are slightly cold and blank at the pictures of him you found at the intenet. Over all, he has a face that comes around once in a while. God-like visuals, that’s how they describe him.
The pictures didn’t give him justice though, as he’s even more gorgeous in personal. His red lips pretty much stands out due to his pale complexion.
There are varieties of patients you’ve worked with before. The group who's willingly seek for your help in order for them to get better. Then the patients who was forced to do these sessions for the satisfaction of a family member or a loved one. And then the ones who truly hates it and give you hard time, punishing you for merely wanting to help them professionally.
That’s where Park Sunghoon is aligned. He made sure you perfectly know that he’s against with this arrangement.
“Son, meet Doctor (surname). She’s the one we’re talking about with you. From now on, you will meet her at Mondays—”
“Make her leave.” he insolently cuts his own mother’s words while staring blankly straight at you.
He’s sat down at his sofa, one shoulder have a cast over it. He didn’t even budge from his position and just stares at you with his intimidating eyes. The gray sofa looked a little small while he dominates it. You’re pretty sure that it looked normal when it was his Mom whose sitting there moments ago, but when it was him it looked small due to his large frame.
“Sunghoon, don’t be rude. Doctor (surname) is here to help you.” his Mom looks like she feels sorry for how he’s acting, yet her tone remained soft.
“I don’t need any help.” he said sternly. His eyes are piercing right at you. They are indeed intimidating with his eyebrows furrowed hardly, but this isn’t the first time someone wanted you to leave.
“But Son,” Mrs. Park tries to console him but you interrupted her.
“It’s fine, Mrs. Park.” and you flash her with your warm smile.
“Can you give us a minute?” your eyes then roamed around the room. There’s his Mom and another person inside together with you. She’s the househelper who assist Mr. Park from time to time. A little older than his Mother. Base on your observation, he seems to trust her enough to be inside this room.
“Sure, doctor.” she says and gradually asked the other lady to leave with her.
Sunghoon’s eyes burns at you as you stood in front of him. He didn’t say anything else after they left the room, he just stares at you with dark eyes. He’s so upset and angry for how his parents are dealing with this situation right now. They’re being too much for meddling with their son’s life when he’s already 27.
“Hello, Mr. Park.” you greeted him once again. As expected, he showed no reaction at all.
“I’m Doctor (surname) and I am here to help you—”
“I don’t need your help so leave. I am not crazy.” he cuts you off.
You pursed your lips and nods your head before pulling up another smile. His behavior of declining anyone clearly shows how he doesn’t want to show his vulnerability.
“Of course you’re not. Everybody knows you are not crazy, Mr. Park.” his eyes still bores right at you.
“Your parents hired me so I can help to understand your emotions even more.”
The corner of his lips lifts up as he scoffed, “You think I don’t know my own emotions?”
You shook your head right away, “No. Nobody else knows you the best other than yourself. I’m just here to assist and help you go through emotions you cannot control or understand.”
Sunghoon’s tensed shoulder slightly relaxed at what he heard. He doesn’t know if all psychiatrist are like this, but you sure are good with your job. You know your way of words to people. Or was it just because of your pretty face? Was he distracted a bit too much? Did you noticed?
He draws in a strained sigh and glanced away, letting his guard down a bit. It made you feel happy and take it as a sign that he wanted you to help him. For that session, you tried hard not to overwhelm him too much so instead of asking questions, you orient him about the case he’s possibly going through.
But that didn’t really became easy. He made sure you’re struggling on dealing with him. There’s often change of moods as well, sometimes he’s calm to have you around and sometimes he’s not. He rudely interrupts you talking and constantly asking you to just quit your job and leave him alone.
But he cannot do anything about it. He cannot fire you, because he didn’t hire you on the first place.
It was his Mother who asked for your professional help, so if there’s someone who can tell you that you’re not qualified for the job already, it would be only her.
“Hello y/n!” Hana greets you happily as she enter the room. It was obvious that she’s having a great day, unlike you.
“Hi,” you shortly replied and sat down at your chair.
“Looks like you aren’t in a good mood.” she states the obvious. You gave her a short nod and shut your eyes.
“Why? Did something happen?” she sounded so concerned about you and even walked closer to sit at the table near you.
“Nothing. I have an appointment with Park Sunghoon tomorrow. It should’ve been my day off and now I have to meet with him. He’s still being stubborn.”
It’s been a month ever since you started your sessions with him and still, nothing. He’s been giving you cold shoulders everytime, refusing to even open himself over you. Multiple approach already tried for him and yet, nothing. It’s frustrating you already.
“I know exactly what you need to do.” the brightness from Hana’s eyes gave you slight hope, making you sit straight.
She rummage over her stacks of unopenef parcels and cheered lightly after successfully finding something. She smirks and slowly walks towards you.
“What’s that?” you asked curious and confused.
She smirks and grabbed a cutter to open it up. From a distance, you can tell its a piece of clothing. She squealed a little, delighted of satisfaction for the package received.
“You’re going to wear this tomorrow.” she announced and even placed the opened box at your lap.
You tilt your head, confused. “What? Why? Do I not look good with my work clothes?”
That’s not the case. Your typical work clothes looks fine. The type of style that plays safe not to show too much skin and also not too covered for your liking. It was so-so.
“No, honey. But this time, that’s what you’ll wear tomorrow and then we will buy more at Saturday.” she announced with words of finality.
You gave her a weird gaze before checking the box she just handed you. Your heart dropped at the sight of it.
“No way! There’s no way I will wear this, Hana!” you quickly disagree and teared your gaze off the outfit she just handed you.
“Yes way! It’s time to put that sexy body into a good use!” she exclaimed all excited and even giggled hilariously.
“But my butt cheeks will probably show just by leaning down slightly.” the look of horror flashes over your face. Just by the thought of being exposed to Mr. Park makes you blush intensely, your core undeniably getting wet.
You shoved that thought away, somewhat blaming Hana for putting them inside your mind. She’s being a bad influence towards you right now and your face is red as a tomato.
“Then he will enjoy the view!” she winks and left you with no choice but to wear it for tomorrow's session.
Thankfully, the moment you arrived at his place the next day you are wearing a coat on top of your scandalous (not really) outfit. Okay, maybe you are a little exaggerating for thinking it is scandalous. You’ve seen a lot of people wear this kinds of workclothes, its just you’re new to this. This isn’t your usual go to office clothes.
You tried your best to act confidently, trying to ignore the fact that his gaze was practically glued at you the moment you took off your coat once you two are left alone.
You’re nervous already and having him stare at you that way makes it even worst. Regardless, you tried to proceed on your task for today.
Park Sunghoon may act nonchalant about it, but his pants feels so painfully tight ever since you walked inside his home. An hour long duration felt days for him. Those short skirts and body hugging top that perfectly shows your delicious curves is driving him insane.
Despite the fact that he hates your presence and how his parents hired you to help him, he’ll be lying if he will say that he never thought of rutting his cock so deep inside your precious cunt. He bet it will feel so good. Numerous times he imagined pushing you hardly over your office table, taking you from behind while your soft moans make it to his ears. He imagined fucking you so hard and deep until you cannot think straight anymore.
You on the other hand are sweating like crazy while trying to compose yourself, unaware of the sinful thoughts the man in front of you are currently having. You keep on shifting on your seat, uncomfortable with how your skirt is so tight and short. Thighs are basically suowing and by just one wrong move, you’re pretty sure your underwear will be flashed towards him.
“Something wrong, Doc?” you jolted at his sudden question, breaking the defeaning silence. It was his first words for today.
His playful tone and look on his eyes are quite foreign for you, a little delighted by the new side you discovered from him.
“N-Nothing.” your words almost came out as a mumble that made him chuckle dangerously.
To see you with less clothing sure is torture for him, to see you blushing and squirming nonstop while your underwear almost flash him is clouding his mind with so many thoughts. All dark and dirty.
“You dressed differently today.” he said in a low tone, almost like a growl. The statement halts your hand from scribbling down your paper. You glanced at him and quickly looked away as he was already staring darkly.
You gulped in attempt to get rid of the lump between your throat. The corner of his lips lifts while one of his hands plays mindlessly at it.
“Y-Yeah.” it was obvious for you to deny it.
“What are you trying to do, Doc?” he asks like a trap and once again you are caught off guard.
“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He scoffed sexily and let out a heavy sigh, “Of course you don’t.” then his eyes roams from your feet up to your face and his heated gaze stays at your eyes.
“You fucking don’t know what you are doing.” he said under his breath that you clearly missed. Even before you manage to compose yourself from his stares, he already glanced away then his walls are once again up guarding himself.
The whole session continues with you uncomfortably wet down there and Sunghoon’s dick throbbing inside his pants.
A whole week passes by and all you did was to tempt him. You started wearing tight and short clothes. Whether on purpose or not, it is driving him crazy. The sexual tension between the two of you are so hot. Too hot that whenever you are left alone, it can almost burn you two.
He knew he had to something about it. He can’t get enough of you and his palm cannot satisfy him anymore. He had to get a taste of that pussy or else he will really lose his mind.
It was wednesday and like usual, he’s the one to that have to go to your office. Mondays and friday sessions are held at his place.
He arrived perfectly on time and your assistant guided him inside after your patient before him. It was a guy and the way his face are so red when he walks out is pissing the hell off of Sunghoon. He knew why he’s like that and he confirmed his guess when he saw you with his own eyes.
Wearing a short tight red skirt. You flashed him an angelic smile that seems illegal for how slutty you dress today.
“Mr. Park, you are right on time. Have a sit.” you pointed the sofa where he usually sits and he followed without a single word.
‘I’ll have a sit and you sit on my face right after. How about that?’ he wanted so bad to say that but he refrain himself.
Sunghoon’s eyes dangerously fiest on you while you make yourself comfortable at your chair. The only thing that seperates you between him was the small center table.
“Today, I want to have a conversation with you Mr. Park. Nothing too serious, any topic you like. I just want you to talk.” you stated and smiled at him.
He nods, surprising you a little. He’s never been this cooperative. It’s making you happy and at the same time worried on why he’s suddenly being obedient.
“Any topic, right?” he asks, confirming it from you. A small nod is what you respond to him.
He nods and stayed silent for a while. You thought it was giving him pressure so you assured him that its totally fine and he can take as much time he needs.
While he spaces out, your eyes couldn’t help but to absorb how he looks today.
Park Sunghoon is a walking temptation for you. It was against your rules to be attracted towards your patients, but you just couldn’t help yourself. He’s very handsome despite his rotten attitude. You kept having this sensual thoughts whenever he’s around. It felt so wrong and illegal. How you felt so weak and how you get wet just by looking at his toned arms and veiny hands.
“Do you know who I am? Is that why you accepted to be my psychiatrist?”
You pout your lips and shook your head side to side, cheeks blushing out of embarrasment because you have no idea of who he was until his parents asked you for help.
Instead of looking offended, Sunghoon looked more interested.
“So you don’t have any idea who I was before you accepted this job?” amusment lurks over his tone, finding it somehow amusing.
Not to sound so full of himself, but he’s pretty famous. Not only to his home country, but to the whole world. The bitterness slowly creeps over his chest by the thought of it. He shoves it off his mind because that’s not important as of the moment.
You nod your head sincerely while eyes darted straight at the handsome man sat across of you. His long legs are spread while one of his arm rests at the side of the couch, the other arm on a cast. It was the one that got injured and he needed it to be casted from time to time. He’s once again making the regular size couch look small because of his tall frame.
“You live under a rock or something?” his tone taunting.
You didn’t let it get to you then just flash him a small smile. “I was busy studying.”
He pursed his lips downwards while nodding his head slowly. His brow arches attractively before he smirks again.
“Oh, right. Miss Valedictorian have no time to fool around.” he said it with so much sarcasm and sighs right after. His gaze turned slightly dark while thinking about something. To what it is, you have no idea. He was hard to read after-all.
“Let me just ask you something, Dr.” he starts. Just by the way he’s looking at you, you can already tell he’s up to no good.
You gulped, trying to get a hold of your thoughts and keep a firm look on your face. The last thing you would want is too look weak in front of him. He’ll eat you alive if you let him overpower you.
“Go ahead, Mr. Park.” you tried to sound so casual. A doctor interviewing her patient. Not crossing any line, keeping a safe distant from him.
“Are you still a virgin?” his bold question completely caught you off-guard. Your breath hitches as blood rushes over your face, blushing hard.
“E-Excuse me?” the flustered look on your face made his grin wider.
Just seeing your innocent eyes opens wider after that question was priceless. He couldn’t get enough of you. Dark thoughts occupies his mind, how you will be so perfect for him. How fun would it be corrupting the fuck out of you.
“I forbid you from asking personal questions. This has nothing to do with your sessions.” and you cleared your throat then teared your eyes off of him.
He tilts his head, “Don’t you think you’re being unfair? You ask me personal questions too.”
Your lips hangs open, ready to answer him. Sunghoon’s brows arched as he waits for what you’re about to say.
“T-That’s different. You are my patient and you—”
“How am I suppose to trust you when I know nothing about you?” his words stunned you. Truly he makes a point. In order for your patient to be confident enough to share their thoughts to you, you need to earn their trust.
How are you suppose to gain his trust when he knows nothing about you? But why does it have to be your sex life? You can share anything else, not that one.
“Then ask something else.”
He shook his head with a teasing grin. “That’s what I want to know the most.”
You stared at him straight to his eyes, silently asking him if he’s being serious about it. He didn’t budge and just stared back, piercing through your soul. You let out a strained sigh as an act of surrender before resting your back at your chair.
“Y-Yes.” you gulped, trying to get rid of the lump between your throat. The amount of embarrasment you are having right now is incomparable to anything else. You’ve never been humiliated like this.
A spark lights upon his pretty eyes, his thick pretty brows raising in amusement. He chuckles and you quickly glanced away, couldn’t take it.
“I did expect you to say yes, but to actually know it is still surprising.” he stated.
You nibbled over your lower lip then dropped your eyes at the clipboard you are holding. The paper clipped to it was almost blank, nothing else was written as he’s not cooperating as usual. But in comparison from your previous meetings, he’s more talkative as of the moment.
“So tell me, why?” he asks in full curiosity. You glanced at him with a furrowed brows, confused as to what’s he’s talking about.
“Does no one wants you? Nobody tried to— ah no, that’s impossible right? I bet a lot had tried before but they just miserably failed.” the corner of his mouth lifts as he racked his eyes from your eyes down to your feet, licking and nibbling over his lips through the process. It was almost like he’s undressing you inside his mind.
The sight itself was enough to make you feel horny, the space between your thighs slowly getting wet. It was sinful and becoming unbearable for you. The temperature of the room surprisingly became hotter because of the man in front of you.
If you’re slowly losing your mind, Sunghoon had gone crazy in his own thoughts. After hearing it from you, he lost it. The thought of how pure and innocent you are just makes him dizzy and very horny. He can think of the most awful and darkest thoughts he wants to do to corrupt you. Make you his cum dump and a slave to of his cock. It makes him riled up.
Sunghoon curses inside his mind feeling his cock getting painfully hard.
Your eyes unconsciously darted over the wall clock and a part of you cheers that finally it was times up for his session.
“O-Our session is over, Mr. Park.” you forced yourself up, thighs rubbing each other and the heat coming out from your core makes it so bothering.
You didn’t wait for Sunghoon to speak and just stood up then walk towards your table, starting to rummage over nothing. Continuously touching and arranging things that doesn’t necessarily messy.
The couch made a sound when he stood up and you can feel your heart thumping so hard as you wait for him to talk.
Instead of hearing his voice, you heard him carefully walking near you. It halts your movement and your chest rises up and down. Your breath hitched as you feel his presence looming behind him, his tall figure approaching closer.
He stopped a step behind you. The sexual tension between the two of you is sky rocket, making you feel slightly suffocated. Sunghoon raises his free arm to reach over your waist.
The moment his big hand touched you, it was over for you. The wall you tried to barricade yourself in, crumbling down.
Sunghoon inched closer pressing his hot body at your back. Your scent made its way over his nose and he nibbled his lips at how good you smell.
“We shouldn’t really—” your words hangs as his action caught you off guard.
He dipped his head down, face dangerously burying your neck. His sinful hot lips places feathery kisses over it. Your hand clenched into fists, trying hard not to make any sound or let out a moan that can surely please him.
“Mr. Park,” you tried hard to face him, hand rests over his uninjured shoulder to push him away.
The difference between your physique clearly made it obvious how your strength would not even match his and so to see him not budging from his position isn’t really surprising.
He smirks, finding you adorable while blushing so hard. His effect on you visible and he’s loving it so much. He pressed himself again and this time it’s even more dangerous as you are face to face with each other.
You can now see his ethereal visuals, his thick dark brows, eyes surrounded by thick long lashes, nose pointy with a noticeable beauty mark on it and his pretty lips. He smirks, running his tongue once over them before nibbling over his lower lip showing you his fangs.
“Just like what you always tell me...” he murmured, lips inches away from yours.
Your heart almost burst out from your chest because of the intensity he's making you feel. The urge of giving in and kissing him plays inside your head dangerously clouding your senses.
“Cooperate.” his grip over your waist tightens as he leans even closer.
The last string of resistance prevents you from kissing him on his lips, leaning away when he inched closer. His eyes lifts from your lips, to your eyes. You can see how his eyes are clouded with nothing but lust.
“Think about it, Doctor. If we both cooperate in here, we’ll get what we wants the most. It’s a win win situation.” and he tugs you closer to him making you feel his erection from his pants. So hard and its making you dizzy how he rubs it
His head leans at the side, his lips grazing slightly to bite your earlobe teasingly. It makes you feel ticklish and lightheaded.
“You, getting inside of my mind and me getting inside of you.” he seductively whispered over your ears, hot breath fanning your neck that made the hairs stands up.
Your knees weakened and he hold your waist tighter to prevent you from collapsing down the cold floor.
The intercom to your office rings and it made you jolt. Sunghoon chuckles at how adorable you are for getting surprise by small sounds.
“Doctor, I would like to remind you that your session with Mr. Park is now over. The next client just arrived.” your assistant just announced.
A heavy and disappointed sigh slips off from Sunghoon’s mouth before he moves away from you. His hands ripped away from you and the sudden lose contact made you slightly feel empty, hand gripping the table hardly to keep balance.
He noticed it and he grinned widely. He sighs and felt slightly annoyed that the fun has to be interrupted.
“I should go. You seem to have a busy day.” he turns his heels and started heading towards the door, like as if he didn’t just pulled that stunt.
Just in time, your secretary opened the door and Sunghoon glanced at you for the last time, flashing you a very meaningful smile.
“I really enjoyed this session, Doctor. I’ll see you on friday.” and he sent a wink before finally leaving you a whole mess, the space between your thighs dripping wet wanting nothing but to feel more of him.
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After what Park Sunghoon just pulled at your office, you gave it a lot of thought. He was too tempting, but something in you feels warry of the idea. He’s seriously like a wolf hunting on an innocent sheep. It was too much for you so you skipped two of your sessions. Friday and monday, sending Hana instead and making excuses that you’re outside the country for some seminar.
“Finally showing up, huh?” his dangerous tone errupts from the entrance of your office, making you jolt.
Your back was facing the direction of the door and so you have no idea how he looks right now. Gulping, you slowly turns to face him and you saw him shutting the door close. The sound of the lock clicking made your heart thump faster.
“I’m sorry, I was in a seminar. I did sent Dr. Kang in replacement for me.”
The look on his eyes tells you that there’s no slight chance that he’s buying it. And he’s pissed at you for actually thinking you can get away from him.
“P-Please have a sit.” you stutter because you have no idea of how to bring up what he just said the last time you two saw each other.
“Have you decided about what I told you?” a part of you felt relieved that he’s the one who brought it up, the other part is nervous because you have no idea what to tell him.
Your mind kept telling you no, but your core had another idea. Clearly, you want him. You want him so bad.
“A-Are you sure you will cooperate with the sessions if I give you what you want?” your tone sounded anxious and so soft.
Sunghoon’s eyes grew darker while he stares at you, legs spread so wide while he dominates your couch. He heaved a sigh, calming himself not to get so excited and scare you off with his dark plans of corrupting the shit out of you.
“Yes. I am a man of my words after-all.” he states and licked his lips.
You stared right at his eyes with your innocent looking eyes. A big grin spreads across his face the moment you nod your head, falling for his evil trap.
It felt really awkward after that and you’re just standing right there like as if waiting for what he’s going to say next.
“What s-should I do?” you asked timidly, fingers fidgetting carefully and nervously.
Sunghoon took time admiring how beautiful you look in front of him. Standing like a helpless prey, submitting to her predator. Her hungry and very horny predator.
He smiles and bit his lower lip, showing off his fangs like teeth towards you. It sends shivers on your spine, down to your core making it even more wet.
Sunghoon scoots over to the side of the couch, leaving enough space.
“Come sit here.” he ordered with his husky voice.
Your knees felt weak and your feet are stoned at your position, heart thumping so loudly inside your chest that it hurts a little.
“Don’t be scared. I don’t bite,” he scoffs. “at least not yet.” and he grinned at you.
With all your strength, you struts towards him and sat at the space beside him. To be this close to him is dangerous for you. You feel so hot, like going insane hot.
Sunghoon leans in towards your face and you instinctively moves back a little. His dark eyes moved from looking at your lips up to your eyes, silently warning you not to do that again. His hand raised and cupped your face to keep you in place. His hand so big and having it harshly holding you with so much dominance turned you on.
When his lips touches yours, you are lost. It started slow and gentle, then he started to kiss you hungrily like he’s been starved from your kisses. You shut your eyes and hand grip over his polo shirt for support as you can feel yourself losing into his touch.
Your head fuzzy at the taste of Sunghoon. A little bit of mint and sweetness. His kisses hot and messy as his tongue pushes your mouth open so he can taste your insides shamelessly.
He pulled away when you two are already out of breaths, biting your lower lip as he did so. His eyes half-lidded and clouded with nothing but lust. He looked so damn sexy.
“You taste so sweet.” he whispered near your lips, eyes darted straight at yours.
His gaze heated and so is his touch. You can feel his large hands roaming dangerously below you. His eyes serves as a distraction so it was too late before you even realize that he already pushed your skirt up, hands reaching over your clothed core. His hand expertly parting your legs for better access.
“Mr. Park—” your words cut when he placed a wet kiss on your lips.
“Call me Sunghoon.” you gulped and felt so flushed because of his fingers now playing with your core. The only thing that keeping him from touching it bare was your underwear. It was torture for you. A bit embarrased too as this is the first time someone had touched you this much.
“Already so fucking wet for me. That’s all for me, right?” he glanced back at your eyes, waiting for an answer.
Because of the overwhelming pleasure, all you did was nod your head, trapping your lower lip between your teeth.
“Words. I need words, baby.” he whispered, the sudden endearment adding to the sensation he’s making you feel at the moment.
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes what?” he asked, a bit impatient.
You whimpered when you felt him rubbing roughly at your wet core, “Yes I’m so w-wet for you.”
That sends a different kind of satisfaction towards Sunghoon. To hear you say those words just made his cock even harder. He never felt aroused just by hearing them dirty talk. This is the first time. You’re the only one who did it to him.
“I want to taste you. I bet you taste so fucking sweet.” he mumbled and you opened your eyes at what he just said, taken aback at what he’s planning to do.
“But—” he placed a kiss at your lips then kneeled beside the couch, just so he can be face to face to your heated core.
You closed your legs in attempt to hide yourself from him, but he firmly gripped your thighs pushing them back open. He shoot you blank stares.
“Hold your legs for me. Keep them wide open.” he ordered and your eyes unconsciously darted at his broad shoulders, taking notice at the cast over it.
“W-What about your shoulder?” you worriedly ask.
Sunghoon almost lose his mind at how soft and gentle your voice are. More importantly that you still have the time to think of his shoulder when you’re almost half naked in front of him.
“I’m fine.” he quickly dismissed it and placed his big hands at your thighs, supporting it so it won’t close.
Your legs are slowly moving closer, maybe out of embarrasment now that he can see your underwear fully and the wet spot in the middle of it.
One of his hand reaches over your underwear, but you stopped him.
“S-Sunghoon, I’m shy.” you admit, blood rushing towards your cheeks.
The corner of his lips lifts up at the sight of your innocent eyes watching him beneath you. The look of embarrasment and probably being neglected from orgasm painted frustration over your pretty face. He cannot explain it exactly, but it turns him on.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” despite the look of lust over his eyes, his tone is surprisingly gentle.
“Can I take this off now?” he asks and while staring at his eyes, you had no choice but to nod your head.
He didn’t waste any second and removed your underwear, revealing your wet pussy. The sight itself was enough to leave him salivating. Sunghoon gulps and then dips his head giving one long lick to your core, juices wrapping his own tongue.
“God,” you mumble at the feeling of his hot tongue grazing your folds.
“Taste so fucking good.” he grunted and started lapping your pussy like a hungry animal. He kissed, he ate and even fuck your hole using his tongue, hardening it so you can feel him enough.
“Ngh,” you sound so dumb trying to contain your moan, afraid that your secretary from outside can hear you.
Sunghoon smirks and lifts his gaze to look at you enjoying the time of pussy being eaten. He never seen you like this before, he never thought you can even moan this erotic.
“Let me stretch you a bit, baby.” and he pulls away then spit at your hole.
“Open your eyes.” he says that made you slowly oblige. The first thing you saw was his sexy smirk, eyes so dark.
He raised his hand and while staring at your eyes, he slowly slid one of his long fingers inside you.
“Hmm, w-wait.” one of your hand lets go from your thighs so you can cover your mouth.
He chuckled, “Haha! Too much? It’s just one finger. How are you gonna take me if you’re already struggling with this?” he taunts and starts pumping it in and out, stretching you.
“You look so pretty like this, y/n. So damn pretty.” he mumbled and kissed your inner thighs while still fucking his finger knuckle deep in you.
“I think I can already add another one.” he says and you hitched your breath as you watch closely, anticipating the stretch and slight sting from it.
Sunghoon loves how obedient you are and how you just lets him do what he wants towards you. This is the first time you’ll ever experienced fingered other than your own fingers so he knew he needed to make it memorable. He added another finger and started pumping.
“Ugh, oh my gosh.” you moaned, gripping over wherever you can reach.
He kept repeating it until you can feel a knot forming your stomach, a hand clasp over his arm. “S-Sunghoon, I’m going to cum.”
His eyes sparkled, “Oh yeah? Give it to me.” he says like a challenge and continued pumping, dipping his head close to your core. He opens his mouth and placed his tongue near your hole, waiting for your sweet juice. The sight itself made you cum easily, moaning so hard and shaking a little.
“Good girl, cum so sweet.” he praised and suck your clit for any remnants of your orgasm.
You are catching your breath and he’s still pumping his fingers inside you, riding your high.
“How does that feel?”
“G-Good.”
“Then let’s do it again.”
Despite feeling drained out of energy, you looked at him with a bit of hesitation. “W-What?”
“Let me add another finger, pretty. Hold on.” and pushes your body to lay back down your previous position.
You whimpered at the amount of stretch his three fingers are giving you. This is the biggest you ever had.
“Pussy so tight. I bet we will have a hard time making my fat cock fit inside you.” his words’ making your head all fuzzy.
“Say it.” he said while staring at your eyes.
You looked at him confuse, clueless of what he’s talking about.
“W-What?”
“Say your pussy is so tight for me.”
Your cheeks flushed at how dirty those words are. You rarely cursed and never once did mutter this type of words, having him make you say this is making you feel so riled up.
“Say it, y/n. Or I’ll stop,” he shamelessly pulls his fingers out of your hole and instantly you felt empty, the other orgasm disappearing into thin air.
“S-Sunghoon,” you said a little frustrated.
“Say it.” his eyes so dark while it burn towards you.
“M-My pussy is so tight for y-you.”
Sunghoon slid his fingers right back after hearing you dirty talking. It back fired tho, as he can feel his dick throbbing painfuly inside his pants, head leaking with so much precum.
“Ah fuck, this won’t work.”
His eyes turned darker and he pulls his fingers off, making you look at him in confusion. He licked your juices on his digits before he stood back up. Your eyes grew big when you saw him unzipping his pants.
“W-What...” you are lost of words when you saw his erect cock, slapping his stomach after he took off his briefs. It is big and now you can definitely agree when he wonders how you will be able to fit him inside you.
Your face turned pale, a little scared of how painful would it be.
“S-Sunghoon, I don’t think I can—” he leans down and kissed you over your lips.
“Just the tip, baby. I promise.” he stroke his manhood and slowly near it to your entrance.
“Fuck,” he groaned when he managed to put his pulsating tip inside your hole. The stretch from a while ago did help, but only because its just his head. It stings a little, but the pleasure is unmeasurable.
“Oh God,” you mumble when he starts to pull in and out his tip.
“Keep steady for me.” and he started to keep his pace, pleasure overwhelming the two of you.
His eyes are fixed right at your pussy barely taking his tip inside. It was making him crazy.
“I’m close, Sunghoon!”
His brows narrowed and he bit his lower lip, stroking the length that doesn’t go inside you to catch your orgasm.
“Me too, fuck. Cum with me.” and after a few more thrust, you coat his head with your cum and afterwards he pulls out, spilling his outside your pussy.
You’re both a panting mess after and now that the lust is slowly withdrawing, your starting to feel shy again. He noticed it and smirks before leaning in for a kiss on your lips.
“You did so well for me.” he praised that made your cheeks flushed even more.
You pursed your lips into a pout and glanced away, eyes dropping at your exposed core.
“You got it on my skirt.” you rant cutely that made him chuckle.
“I’ll just buy you a new one.”
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Friday came faster than you expected, or maybe you’re just really looking forward on seeing Park Sunghoon once again. You parked right at his mansion and knocked on his door.
Surprisingly, Sunghoon opened the door for you. Brows hardly furrowed.
“Hi,” you greeted with a smile and blushing cheeks.
He opens his door even wider for you, “You’re late.” he sounds like he’s sulking so you chuckle a little walking pass by him. Sunghoon managed to inhale your sweet scent and he’s already feeling aroused by it.
“I stopped by at a famous bakery since you mentioned yesterday that you love bread.” and you raised the plastic containing the bread you are talking about.
When you glance at him, he was already sat down at his couch. A ghost of smile spread across his face before he gestures you to come to him. You rest your things at the table and slowly walk near him.
He reached over your hand then guided you carefully to sit over his lap, arms wrapping around your waist.
“You look beautiful today.” he compliments that tugged your heart.
“Is that why you’re hard as rock right now?” you teased and rolled your eyes at him.
He smirks, “I can’t help it.” he mumbles then showers your shoulders and neck with feathery kisses.
You shut your eyes and your hold over his arm tightens. He kissed your neck and sucked at the skin so hard you’re sure it will bruise.
“Ride me.” he commands that made you open your eyes.
The look of lust over his eyes tells you that he isn’t kidding at all. After letting out a nervous sigh, you straddle over him your clothed core perfectly aligned at his erection. The sensation of having it rub as you position yourself on top of him is making you crazy.
Sunghoon’s big hands rests at your hips, eyeing you dangerously. Watching how your face contorts at pleasure as your privates rubs at one another. He can only curse inside his mind how the sight of you humping your wet core to him is so arousing.
“Sunghoon,” you moaned that snap him out of trance.
“Yeah?” and he leaned closer kissing your chin.
“Can I suck you?”
His eyes darken at your question. He was indeed planning to make you suck his cock, but he never thought you would be the one to ask yourself. Now he didn’t regret hearing it, you are turning him on even more.
“Well well, the innocent Doctor (surname) now hungry for my cock?” he teased that made you shy instantly, stopping how you rub yourself towards him.
He chuckles, “Say it first and then I'll let you suck my dick.”
You pursed your lips into a pout then was about to turn away, “Say it, come on.” and then he hold your wrists to keep you from leaving.
You glanced at his eyes and stared hardly. Letting him see how much he affect you. How wet he is making you at the moment.
“Can I suck your cock, please?” you ask so softly that it almost broke Sunghoon.
He smirks and leans to kiss you at your lips once, “Since you ask nicely, down on your knees.” he command and you got so excited after you heard that.
You stood up from sitting on his lap and watch how he remove the knot of his sweatpants. He was left with his boxers and he slides it down as well, revealing his already hard fat cock.
You gulped, astonished at the view in front of you. Eyes fixated at the dessert you’re about to taste. You slowly went down on your knees while still staring at his pulsating cock, the tip of it so red.
“H-How do I do it?” your hand hang awkwardly on the sides and it almost made Sunghoon laugh at how adorable you are.
He grabs your hand and placed it at his knees, making you tear your gaze from his dick and look at his lustful eyes. He smiles, fangs showing.
“Calm down, baby. Don’t get too excited. I feel like you will bite off my dick.” he joked that made you pout. He chuckled and leaned forward for a peck on your lips before resting his back at the couch once again.
“Okay, open your mouth and then rolled your tongue out. Flat them good for me.” he instructs that you quickly followed.
The shyness wearing off as the heat of horniness taking over. You don’t care anymore, all you want is to taste his cock inside your mouth.
“That’s it. Then hold my length, not too tight. It’s your friend, not your enemy.” he chuckles playfully and you just keep follow him.
“Now lick the tip. Lick or suck, just no teeth.” he reminds and you dived in, not wasting any second.
He tasted a bit salty, but good. You cannot explain what exactly it is but the type of taste you will look for from time to time. You hold his dick and looked at its tip, becore sucking it good making Sunghoon groan in pleasure.
“Fuck baby, you’re so thirsty for my cock.” and his hand rests on top of your head when you started bobbing it out of instinct.
“Just like that— damn, it feels so good.” he moaned, groaning while biting his lips deliciously.
“Look at me.” he demands that you oblige, making him go insane.
“Goddamn those eyes. I will cum if you keep looking at me like that.” he said in a husky voice that sent shivers in your spine.
You hummed sending vibrations on his dick that gave him ultimate pleasure.
“Keep going, pretty.” and with his guidance you continued bopping and sucking his delicious cock like a lollipop. It felt so satisfying hearing his moans and having him tightly gripping your hair out of pleasure.
“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he grunts so you kept your pace and he started fucking into your mouth, making you slightly gag on his fat dick.
He didn’t stop until he shoots his hot cum at the depth of your throat, making sure you swallow every drop of it. You did as he told, rolling your eyes as you continue sucking him dry. Sunghoon grunts at the sight of you.
“So good for me.” he mumbles and pulls you up to give you a kiss at your lips.
The day ended with you actually doing your session. This time, you can really tell he’s trying to be more cooperative. Answering questions from you about his childhood and all, trying to familiarize you more about him.
You left that day with a sweet kiss on his lips and small gropping. He’s just really naughty and you cannot get enough of him.
Your routines became making out, foreplays, makeouts then session with Sunghoon. Two weeks passed by so quickly and you two grew closer and intimately. Another weekend came and you spent it with Hana, trying to find good clothes and other girly things.
“How was it with Mr. Park Sunghoon?” she asks raising her brow teasingly.
Your cheeks blushed and eyes dropped at your food instantly. Just by then she realized that something is really happening between you and the f1 racer and so she squealed happily and didn’t stop bugging you to tell her everything.
“I always knew he have the hots for you.” and she winks, delighted that her friend is finally having the sex she deserves.
“What? No. Maybe he’s just bored and—”
“Oh come on! Sunghoon can have any girls he wants and yet he picked you. He isn’t the type to go fuck around girls as well, y/n. He may look like a player, but that dude is loyal.” she even whistles.
“How’d you know?”
She shrugs her shoulder, “He had only one ex-girlfriend and not once did I heard him getting involve with someone else.”
Your heart sank at what you heard. Lately, Sunghoon has been making you feel special. Despite him being mean sometimes, his gestures still tugs your heart. And to think that you learnt about this ex lover of his being the undefeated champion for his heart is hurting your heart.
“Don’t worry! They’re already over.” she assured you after noticing the look of horror on your face.
That didn’t wipe away your worry, since you could tell she has something to do why Sunghoon refuses to talk about his hard refusal of driving for his team again.
“Why did they broke up?” you couldn’t help yourself but to ask.
She pursed her lips trying to recall the article she saw the moment the news broke to the media. It was not that big of a scandal, but still they’re both a famous and public personality. There are a lot of people invested in their love journey.
“I’m not sure, but as far as I remember it was her who calls it off.” she says that made you even more insecure about it.
Hana seems to be ignorant about the fact that you’re starting to overthink things and just diverts the topic into something else. You tried hard to push back whatever that is that’s bothering you, but it was no use. Your heart feels heavy just by thinking of where you stand at Sunghoon’s life.
He didn’t mentioned anything about taking things seriously. You wanted to get into his mind, talk to him and help him get through this phase of his life. On the other hand, he wants to get in your pants and use you for pleasure. That’s it? You should not get worried and shrug it off, but you can’t. Because no matter how much you deny it, you are slowly catching feelings with him.
And to think that the possibility of him still having hang ups with his ex are breaking your heart.
Monday came faster than expected. The weekends spent mostly by you overthinking things. It was slightly exhausting, but again it was overpowered by the thought of seeing Sunghoon once again. Excitement feeling your chest as you parked right at the hospital to meet some of your morning clients.
Time passes by so slow as you keep glancing at your wall clock, begging for it to go faster. After your third client, your intercom rings.
“Doctor, you are asked to go to the conference room to attend a meeting.” your secretary announced.
Your brows furrowed as you glanced at your calendar beside your table, finding it odd that it wasn’t recorded to your schedule. Meaning its either its an unplanned meeting or you forgot to just include it.
You pressed the button to your intercom, “Alright. Thank you.”
The conference room are packed with some doctors and at the center of it was the director. His eyes lights up at the sight of you and you tried to flash a smile for him. He continued talking about some reminders and changes at the hospital protocols.
Your eyes unconsciously darts at the clock and saw that its almost your session with Sunghoon. Remembering that you forgot to inform him, you tried to check your phone from your pockets and realized you don’t have it with you.
You almost cheered silently when the director said his ending remarks for the meeting. Everyone stood up and claps for him. When you’re about to leave the conference room, he calls for you. It made you hesitant, but since you don’t want to make a scene you just walk near him.
“Your ward will be provided with new equipments.” he started and even looked over the folder holding the lists of things your department requested.
Your shoulder relaxed a bit, thinking that he’s not totally up for something weird. Its just that you represented the department as everyone else have something to do. Slowly, the people inside the room left one by one. Even before you realize it, you are alone with the director already.
“Can you check if there’s anything missing?” he asks seriously and even handed you the folder.
You nod and carefully checks the list. While deeply into it, you yelped when you’re suddenly pushed towards the table. His body pressing hardly behind you. Tears quickly pool your eyes in terror, head hurting as it hits the table.
“M-Mr. Cha w-what are you doing?!” you panicked and even try to push yourself back up.
He grunts and pushed you even harder, holding your position. You cried and shut your eyes, wishing that this is just a dream. A very bad dream. You felt his hot breath near the back of your ears and something hard pressed at your but. It felt disgusting, you felt disgusted with yourself.
“Shut the fuck up and just take this bitch.” he mumbles scarily and started grinding himself at you.
“N-No, please stop—” you cried even harder feeling him from outside your clothes and its so horrifying.
“Shh, don’t cry. I won’t put it inside. It’s too early for that...” he said lowly and even caress your face. You moved away from his touch and he just scoffed.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve taught of doing this to you.” he groans and you can feel him going faster, reaching his climax.
It was horrible, but you just stood still as you are helpess. Tears keep streaming down your eyes, unable to even say anything. You bit your lip, shutting your eyes tightly.
When he finished, he leans in and forcedly pressed a kiss at your lips. The moment he lets go of you, you bolted your way out of there. Thankfully, you didn’t stumble with some colleagues or else they would be wondering why you’re crying and dress all crumpled up.
You’re traumatized after what happened. You’ve been inside your vehicle parked underground the hospital. Tears doesn’t even stream from your eyes anymore, you just sat there feeling so numb and disgusted. You feel disgusted about yourself. Just every place he touched you.
Your head slowly cranes to the side when you heard your phone ringing. Sunghoon’s name flashing through it. Right, you’re late to your session with him. After a while, your screen turns black meaning you’ve missed the call already.
It lits up once again because he’s trying to call again. Your heart tugs and slowly reached for your phone.
“H-Hello?” you stuttered.
A big sigh is what’s greet you. “Finally!” he spats. “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour. I thought something bad happened to you.” he sounded a little irritated.
“I’m sorry, I was c-caught in a meeting.” the memory flashes back to your mind.
“It’s fine. I just got worried.” you missed what Sunghoon said as your mind slowly spaced out.
He noticed you being silent from the other line so he sighed, “Hey, I’m not mad. I was just really worried.” he repeated, thinking you thought he’s angry.
When he still didn’t receive any response, his brows furrowed hardly.
“Baby?” he calls softly, snapping you back to your senses.
“S-Sorry, yeah?” you sniffed.
“Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Your heart sank at what you heard. The amount of emotions mountaining inside you are unexplainable. You want to scream, cry and tell him everything but you are scared. Scared as hell on what will happen after.
“Yeah I’m f-fine.” only case is, you’re not.
“Are you coming here?”
“Yes.”
You really want to see him. Something in you tells you that Sunghoon can help. That seeing him can help you.
“Okay. Drive safely.”
You bid goodbye and drove towards his house with one thing inside your mind. What happened to you a while ago and what the director did you to you just means he will not stop just like that. If there’s anyone you want to give yourself in for the first time, it would be Park Sunghoon. You want to give yourself to him.
When you arrived his place, Sunghoon was the one of who opened the door for you. He can’t even say hi because you quickly wrap your arms over his nape, pulling him closer. You crashed your lips on his and start kissing him passionately.
Despite being surprised, Sunghoon caught on and kissed back. He doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly like this, but he cannot reject and stop you. No. Never. Not when you look so beautiful desperate for him. Desperate for his kisses and touch.
He pushed your body to the door and started kissing you hungrily, hands roaming your body like they have a body of their own.
“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, catching his breath.
Your lustful eyes stared right at his swollen lips. “I just missed you.”
Sunghoon’s eyes soften at what you said and leans back in for another heated kiss. Both of his large hands rests at your hips, gripping them tightly.
“H-Hoon,” you moaned when he starts to kiss and suck the skin on your neck.
He hummed on your skin, sending so much pleasure. Your hands plays over his hair, pulling it softly.
“Fuck me.”
Sunghoon was stoned at his position when he heard you mutter those words. He pulled away slightly, enough to look at your eyes.
“What did you say?”
You looked at him straight in the eyes.
“Please fuck me.”
Sunghoon went wild after hearing it. He licked his lips and placed a kiss on top of your hand. “You sure?”
You nod continuously, wanted so bad to forget what happened earlier at the conference room.
“All right, let me prep you—” you hold his arm.
“N-No,” you gulped. “I want to feel it. I want it to hurt.”
He furrowed his brows and looked at you in confusion. He’s not gonna lie, he’s all riled up with you saying these things but he cannot help but to think what happened to you. For the past month that he knew you and been doing stuff with you, he’s never seen you like this. He feels like something’s wrong.
“Is everything okay?” he asked all concerned.
You want to dodge that question as much as possible so you glanced away. His firm hold over you softens as he try to catch your eyes.
“Hey, you good? If you want to do this, I want you to be sure. I need to prep you so it will hurt less—”
“I said I don’t mind!” you burst and shoot him glares. Your emotions are getting the best out of you.
“You know what, nevermind! If you don’t want to do it then I’ll find someone else!” you yelled. Of course that was a lie, but you try to save yourself from too much embarrassment.
You’re about to walk away from him, but he grabbed you by the wrist. When you meet his eyes, shivers run through your spine because Sunghoon’s eyes are so dark.
“Why the fuck would you say that?” he looked so mad and your lips shake unable to even say anything.
“You want it to hurt? I’ll make it hurt.” and he threw you over his shoulders making you slightly yelp.
“H-Hoon,” he walked towards somewhere.
Realizing he entered a room, Sunghoon placed you on the middle of the big bed. You looked at him, nervous. He smoothly took off his shirt and you fold your legs. His toned body made you at awe.
He stretches and grabbed your leg pulling you closer to him. His hand find your skirt and he started taking it off. He dipped his head to smash his lips onto yours. Your eyes shut, getting drown by his sweet, sloppy kisses.
“You don’t say those words at me, y/n. Finding someone else to fuck you?” he said after he pull away and manages to take off your skirt. His eyes turned dark as he let out a scoff with no humor.
“Now, I’m going to fuck you so hard and you’re going to take it all like a good bitch.”
His words are enough to make you wet down there, but you know it wasn’t enough to make it less painful. With the length and thickness of his cock, it will surely hurt like hell.
“W-Wait—” you sound scared.
Sunghoon didn’t mind and just pushed your body down the bed, his big hand wrapping around your neck. His other hand started stripping off your underwear.
“Shut the fuck up.”
He moved away and started removing his sweatpants. His dick was hard already, slapping at his stomach after he took off his boxer shorts. The view itself was salivating for you. It made your fear disappear for a split second. Tho it all went back when he approached you and spread your legs wide for him.
His eyes are darkly focused down at your slightly wet core.
“H-Hoon,” he didn't say anything and spit on his palm before stroking his hard cock.
You’re about to say something but his dark eyes looked at you. The corner of his lips lifts a little as he position his tip at your entrance. Your heart thump in fear and excitement. Multiple times you two did foreplays and you’ve been imagining his cock entering you. Now, it’s really gonna happen.
“Do you trust me?” he asks in a low tone.
You nod your head.
“I will make it hurt so you wouldn’t forget who took you first.” he mumble so ruthless and then pressed his body closer.
Your lips pursed as his cock slowly enters you. It was hard, Sunghoon cannot even push inside as it was so tight for him. He clenched his jaw, couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his tip.
“Fucking tight,” he growled and thrust harder.
You yelped at the feeling of being painfully stretched by his dick. The pain was unexplainable, something you never felt before. Your hold over his arm tighten, eyes becoming teary. Sunghoon searches for your lips as he continues taking your virginity, cursing inside his mind how good this pussy is. How tight and perfect for him to ruin.
“S-So big,” you cry out.
“Just a little bit more, baby.” he whispered to your ears.
He’s not yet fully in but you already feel so full. It was unbelievable. Your eyes tightly shut, nails digging over his broad back.
“There we go,” he sighs when you finally managed to take all of him.
He pulled away slightly just to get a good look of his cock buried deep inside of you. Your pussy so red and full. It looked so tight with his dick filling you completely. He fits you perfectly that its no doubt that this pussy belongs to me.
“You’re mine now, y/n. Hear me?” he growled and leaned his body down as he start to move his hips, thrusting in and out.
“I’m claiming this pussy mine.” and he bit your shoulder, pistoning his hips harder and faster.
He didn’t even ask if you adjusted already. He was so lost by the pleasure you are giving him. He continued fucking you fast and hard that you’re starting to see stars. It was amazing. Painful, but amazing.
“Ngh,” you moaned when its started to feel a little better. He smirks and tries to catch a glance at your face.
“You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl.” he mumbled and looked back at your privates hitting each other continuously.
“So pretty. So perfect for me.” he kept mumbling like a prayer.
You got lost on how long he’s been abusing your hole until he finally cum on your stomach. Sunghoon’s not the type who gets tired right away after a round, but this one’s different. The kind of pleasure and emotions he poured in this one is something he has never done before.
He crashed beside you and gently pulled you towards him, making your head rest over his chest. A peck on your forehead and then he rest his chin on your head.
“Thank you.” you mumbled, after finally gaining back some senses.
He scoffed and wrapped his arm around you. “Thank you for hurting you?”
You chuckled and nuzzled over his chest.
“Well, I did asked for it.”
“You did, baby.”
The two of you fell silent before your eyes caught a glimpse of some of his trophies.
“Did you want to be a racer ever since you were a kid?”
“Oh, my psychiatrist is back? Damn. I’m kind of enjoying my cuddles at the moment.” he said sarcastically.
“I just want to know.” you giggled.
He heaved a sigh, clearly thinking through it.
“I grew up loving cars. My uncle used to take me with him whenever he watch f1 racers. I thought it was cool and wanted to be like them.” he started and you just listened to him.
“And you did.” you uttered so proudly.
“My Mom was against it at first. Saying that its dangerous. But I just couldn’t stop myself from pursuing it. I just feel so alive doing it. The sound of the roaring engines, the thrill of the speed and the smell of the tires scratching over the race track. Its just... different.” he mumbles.
He didn’t say anything, but you felt his tension slightly disappearing. Your hand that was hugging him starts to caress his back, lowkey letting him know that you’re there beside him.
“I used to love racing.”
“You still love it.” you declared like you’re so sure of it.
He didn’t respond right away. Like something’s occupying his mind right now. The thought of his ex girlfriend made it to you and slowly, you pulled away from his hug.
You looked straight to his eyes and gulped.
“Does your ex girlfriend has something to do why you don’t want to race anymore?”
You can clearly saw how his eyes turned cold and the emotions in his face drained. He looked like how he was when you first met him.
Your heart cracks when he pulled away from you and leave the bed before starting to grab his clothes.
“I’ll get you a fresh towel so you can take a bath.” he suggested with cold voice.
“Sunghoon, I’m s—”
“Let’s skip today’s session. You can leave after you take a bath.” and he walked away to get the things you will be needing. Leaving you dumbfounded and heart’s aching.
You have no idea what just happened, but the f1 racer sure does know how to fucking hurt you both physically and emotionally.
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@candewlsy @nyfwyeonjun @sunghoonizz @jaehyuniewifeu @imjakes-wifeofc1 @deobitifull @enhypens-hoe @yzzyhee @nyxtwixx @crimnalseung @vixensss @jjklvr9 @gonorrheaisme @lhspeachie @myboyfriendjungkook @capri-cuntz @brooklyninawhitemustang @woniebae @ma-riiii @tinie03 @seokseokjinkim @iheartjayke @hybeboyenthusisast @minniejenseo @shelovsme @sjakewrld @shawnyle (i can’t tag some of you, sorry)
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year
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The Incredible Hulk (1968) #249
#when Betty left her father to try to learn independence she did so in the middle of the night only leaving a note and not saying goodbye#which she explains as that she knows how convincing her father can be to her#and that if she spoke to him face-to-face she didn’t have the faith she would be able to get herself to leave#she goes so far as to change her appearance and check into a hotel under a different name to make sure that he can’t track her down#and it’s really striking to me that she now seems more comfortable with seeing him face-to-face#specifically because he’s had a mental breakdown#she says ‘Daddy’s illness has robbed him of some of his old bite’#and ‘he’s not the same fire-eater he was’#there’s this scene which is one of the few times we see Betty while she’s off trying to learn independence#where right before he had his breakdown Ross went on an angry rant on TV#and it shows Betty watching that and saying that he’s acting like he did when her mother died#which I assume happened when she was a child or a teenager#also here she’s framing Ross’ behavior towards the Hulk as part of a longer pattern#first hunting I assume Nazis in the 40s then communists in the 50s and then the Hulk in the 60s#I’m finding Betty and Ross’ relationship really interesting#and what her life must have been like as an only child and girl being raised by a man like General Ross#and how that would have impacted her as a person to this present day#also noting that Betty refers to Bruce and her father as the two men that she loves#I think it’s interesting to consider how she might favor one over the other#based on what she believes their culpability is in their current predicament#or how else she would weigh it#marvel#betty ross#fred sloan#rick jones#my posts#comic panels
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satorusugurugurl · 5 months
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Can you please make something like y/n losing her virginity to Gojo and when she wakes up she misunderstood that Gojo just wanted to have one night stand and as he never make contact with any of his one night stand, so y/n left writing some notes for him. But Gojo genuinely loved her and then he searched for her finding y/n passed out somewhere or finding her getting attacked by some cursed spirit.
🥹🥹
First Time
Summary: You lose your virginity to you friend and co-worker, the strongest sorcerer of the modern age; Gojo Satoru
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!R
Word Count: 5,848 (oops!)
Warning: loss of virginity, mentions of drinking, fingering, jerking off, oral sex, smut, fights, assault, choking (not the fun kind)
A/N: Well this, this was a lot of fun! 😂💚 I got super into it Nonnie!! Thank you! Enjoy!!
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“No, absolutely not. That is a terrible idea.” your best friend and colleague looked you in the eyes, not once breaking contact.
“What do you mean it’s a bad idea? Do you think he has something?”
“Do you honestly think I would know if that man had any sexually transmitted diseases?”
“Well, you’re saying it’s a bad idea. So I was just curious as to why you think that is.”
Nanami let out an aggravated sigh, “I don't think I know it’s a bad idea. I went to high school with the man, for God's sake. He is a serial cherry popper.” your best friend took a sip of his beer, aching his head as he did.
“So he has some experience in doing so.”
You ran your finger over the rim of your margarita glass. You were ignoring the cold, judging eyes of your best friend. Nanami knew you had a crush on Gojo for the last few years. The two of you were constantly flirting with each other, and just recently, he had gotten a little more touchy-feely with you, rubbing your shoulders and brushing his hand against yours. He went as far as to kiss your cheek. Nanami knew what he was playing at. The blue-eyed menace was buttering you up; he saw you as his next target.
“It doesn’t matter if he has experience. If you’re looking for anyone with experience, you could always come to me,” he whispered. Thank God that you were a little too out of it to notice what he said. He was trying to make a point; you both were nothing more than friends. The point he was trying to make, though, was that if you were that desperate to lose your virginity, you could always rely on him. “Gojo is notorious for having one-night stands. He’ll get what he wants and be gone the next day.”
“Do you know that for a fact?” Frustration began to rise in your chest. “ or is that just part of the rumor train?”
Nanami wasn’t sure how to answer that. He hadn’t personally met any of Gojo’s past relationships. He did know that several women had claimed he had popped their cherries and left the next day. So, of course, he was nervous for you. Nanami could see the glittering glaze in your eyes whenever you looked at Gojo. You were so into him it was almost painful.
“Rumor train,” Nanami confessed, looking away and“Then it’s settled!” despite your best friend's warnings, you got up and headed straight to the bar where the Gojo Satoru stood.“Hey Gojo.”
Your colleague and massive crush turned to look down at you. His hair was a fluffy mess, his dark sunglasses shielded, his beautiful eyes from you., and he had a smile on his face that could give anyone cavities. You both had been flirting with each other nonstop for the last three months. You have been waiting to see if he would be the one to ask you to go home with him, but you were tired of waiting.
“Hey, sweetheart~ having fun?” He took a sip of his soda.
“I'd be having a lot more fun if you took me back to my place.”
Satoru choked, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he coughed into his fist. Regardless of his initial reaction, you could see the desire in his eyes. He wanted as bad as you. The constant flirting, lingering eye contact, and subtle touches had brought you both here. Were you, for the first time in your life, inviting a man to come back to your apartment to have sex?
Losing your virginity didn’t have to be special. You were fine as long as it was with somebody who knew what they were doing. From how Satoru acted, there was no doubt in your mind that he knew how to please a woman. It was your virginity, and you chose to give it to Gojo Satoru.
“Seriously? Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of something in my entire life. So what do you say? Wanna come to my place?”
There had been no questions asked. Satoru grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar and back to your apartment. That’s how you found yourself being slammed against the elevator door, Satoru’s mouth eagerly moving against yours in a fiery kiss. His hands reached up, massaging your breasts, causing mewls pleasure to leave your mouth.
“Fuuuck, oh fuck.” Satoru growled, his lips pressed against yours eagerly in between each word. “You have the most perfect tits.” His tongue gently flicked over your bottom lip, and the second you opened it for him, his tongue was in your mouth, gently moving against yours.
The raw carnal need behind his caresses of your skin and the way his lips moved against yours had you dizzy. Never once in your life had you ever felt so desired. Satoru wanted, but no, it was more like he needed you. Knowing that had your panties soaking wet.
“Oh fuck, Toru.” As Satoru’s fingers slid under your shirt, trailing over your heated skin, you arched your back off the cold middle of the elevator. “T-Toru~”
“Fuck you’re so goddamn hot.” Lips latched onto your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there. “You taste like a fucking gourmet meal~, and that's just your skin.” he took your earlobe between his teeth, nipping on it. “Can't wait to taste that cunt. I bet she's already wet~.”
His long fingers slid under your bra, brushing over your hardened nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds. “I-I’m so wet, so fucking wet.” Satoru hummed in your ear, and one of his sinfully skilled hands trailed down, slipping into your pants. “Holy shit!” you cried out as his long fingers gently rubbed over your throbbing clit.
“Oh fuck, you weren't kidding.” His fingers rub and tease your sensitive clit. “You’re soaked.” soaked was an understatement. Fisting his jacket, you bury your head in his shoulder as he trails his fingers lower, teasing your tight virgin entrance through your panties.
“F-Fuck, oh fuck.” Satoru pulls back, glancing down at you as the elevator reaches your floor.
“Your pussy is throbbing.”
“I need you, Satoru. Need you so bad it hurts.”
His soft pink lips find yours again in a searing kiss as he pulls his hand out of your pants. “Then take me home so I can take care of you.” Not needing to be told twice, you grab his wrist, dragging him to your apartment.
The second you're inside, Satoru kicks the door shut with his foot, hands locking it before they grab you. He is slamming you back into the wall of your entryway. His fingers make quick work of your shirt, unbuttoning it, tossing it to the side, his lips never once leaving yours, leaving you a breathless mess. He pulls back, giving you a chance to gulp down ark, as he pulls his shirt off, allowing you to run your hands down his toned abs.
“Bedroom?” he asks, lips attacking your neck as he lofts you off the ground.
Your legs wrap around him as he starts blindly moving forward. “First door on the left,” Satoru growls against your skin, turning right. “T-Toru, that's the bathroom, left!” The extremely sexy man grunts in response, making a swift left, nearly sending you tumbling over.
“Sor-” kiss, “sorry, I just can't wait to get inside of you.” The man you’ve had the biggest crush on for years tosses you onto your bed. Satoru doesn't even give you a chance to react; his hands unbutton your pants, yanking them down. “Fuck you smell so fucking good.”
He’s trailing kisses up your inner thighs, his teeth gently nipping at your skin. Skin that had never been touched by another person other than yourself. The sensation of his fingers, his lips, his teeth on you doing things you had only dreamed of him doing. It had you breathless.
“Satoru.” The man between your legs let out a hungry groan.
“I love hearing you say my name like that. Say it fucking more; I want to hear you scream my name.” his fingers hook under your underwear, yanking them to the side., allowing his tongue full access to your dripping cunt. “Say my fucking name.”
His warm tongue is on you before you can even process what he’s saying. His tongue laps at your entrance before slowly sliding up and down your lips, teasing your clit but not touching it yet. Being eaten out for the first time is like seeing God. Satoru is so skilled with his mouth that it has you digging your heels into the bed, toes curling, and your eyes rolling back.
Satoru hums against you, eyes brows furrowing as he seals his mouth around your dripping sex, sucking on it, teasing it with his tongue. His eyebrows knit in concentration, his eyes never once leaving your face. He is entranced with you and with your reactions. Satoru wants to make you cum; the man is determined to do so.
You didn’t stand a chance against him or his skilled tongue. The second he started flicking your clit with the tip, you lost all control. Reality seemed like it shattered into one million pieces as Satoru drove over the edge of your first orgasm with someone other than yourself. You buck up against his face, your head thrashes against your pillows, and you cum harder than you have in your entire life.
“Mmmphm, fuck.” Satoru growls from between your legs. “That’s it, baby, give it to me, give it all to me.” His tongue continues to lick and lap at your folds, making sure to leave not an inch of your unexplored with his mouth.
“T-Toru, oh fuck.” He had left you a pile of useless limbs. “N-Need you, want you inside of me.” you sit up, hands reaching for his pants, undoing the button. He sucks in a breath as your hand gently rubs over his hard, throbbing cock. “S-So thick, and it-it’s hard.”
“Yeah?” The smugness in his voice has you pressing your thighs together. “Wanna touch it~?”
Giving him a nod, you pull back, allowing him to lie down against the headboard. His breathtaking eyes never leave you, following your hand that slips under his boxers and pulls them down. His cock sprung up, bouncing as it stood straight in the air. The tip was a throbbing dark rosey color, the tip dribbling out pre-cum as it twitched in the cool air of your apartment. His hair is trimmed short, a happy trail leading from the v-line down to the base of his cock.
It draws you in like a siren calling sailors to the sea; you’re drawn to his cock. Your fingers try to wrap around it, but you can’t; he’s too thick. Satoru moans out in pleasure, feeling your warm, soft hand wrap around him. It’s so velvety and warm that your curiosity gets the better of you, urging you to stroke him up and down. You give in to the desire, jerking him off slowly.
“Fuuck, ooh fuck.” Satoru calls from above you, his thighs twitching, body shaking as you continue your movements. “Fuck sweetheart, feels so fuckin’ good.”
“I-I don't know what to do.” At the sound of your confession, Satoru chuckles.
“Want me to help you?” He watched as you bit down on your lip with a soft little ‘mhmm.’ “Alright, just follow my hand.” he wraps his larger, rougher hand around yours. “Here we go.”
Satoru drags his hand up and down his shaft, Allowing more pre-cum to dribble out of the tip, coating his shaft in the slick, sticky substance as makeshift lube. You know you should be paying attention to how his hand is moving. That way, you would know how he liked to be touched. But you can’t help but look at his face. His pale ivory skin is flushed, his lips are slightly parted as he whines, and his eyes are narrowed, focusing on your hand that is jerking him off with his.
Eroticism is not the way you would describe this; this was pure filthy porn for you. His face, the way he took his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it, would forever be in your spank bank memory—his ab’s clenched and moved, and time with his deep raspy groans of pleasure. Satoru was losing himself in the pleasure of just your hand. You couldn’t wait to see the expression he made when he was inside of you.
“Sweetheart, fuck.” He groans, jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth together. “Fuuuck, your hand is so soft. If you keep it up, I’m gonna cum all over you.”
Hearing him say that, knowing that you could make the Gojo Satoru cum, you jerked your hand as fast as you fucking could. You swatted his hand away, taking complete control. Satoru threw his head back with a roar as you licked your bottom lip, focusing all your attention on how you were moving your wrist. Up and down, twisting and pulling it as he had shown you. Your free hand reaches down and his heavy balls, massaging him gently, urging him to spill his seed all over your hands.
His cock throbbed twice in your hand, and you thought for just a moment that he was about to cum for you. But before he could, his free hand swooped down and squeezed himself at the base of his cock, preventing himself from cumming all over your hand like you had wanted. His chest was heaving, and the flush on his face had spread the base of his neck down to his pectoral muscles.
Satoru swallows hard, wincing as you run your index finger over his slit, spreading the precum over his throbbing tip. “Why did you stop? Weren't you about to cum?” Strong hands grab your upper arms, flipping you so you’re the one underneath him.
“I was, but I would much rather cum inside of you.” those filthy words have your cunt drooling, your slick dripping down to the bed underneath you. “Is that okay~?”
“Yes, god, yes, please, please fuck me, Satoru.”
“Oh, you beg so nicely; how could I deny your request like that?” He slots his body between your thighs, and he rubs the head of his cock up and down your lips, smearing his pre-come over your clit. “Want me to grab a condom? I have one in my wallet.”
“No, I have an IUD.”
“Such a dirty, needy girl.” He presses the tip against your tight entrance. “You sure about this?”
He knew you were a virgin; you had mentioned it to him in passing in between your flirting the last few months. For him to take the time to ask you if you were okay with this made your heart sing. Nanami was wrong about him. Gojo wasn’t just going to up and leave; he genuinely seemed to care about you and what you wanted.
He was the perfect man to lose your virginity to.
“I'm positive.”
Hearing your consent, Satoru sighed in relief. “Awesome, just let me know if you need to stop.”
His cock gently pushes into you. You awaited the dreaded sharp, stinging pain you have been told about your entire life. But the pain never came. It was just a sensation of being full and some slight pressure. The unfamiliar sensation had you gripping Satoru’s biceps, digging your nails into his delicate ivory skin as you tried to adjust to the new feeling.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yeah, I just needed a second. It’s just a weird sensation.”
Satoru gently peppers kisses over your neck before meeting your lips once again. “Relax, I got you; I got you, baby.” Everything Satoru was doing for you had your muscles less tense as he pushed further inside of you. “You're taking me so well, such a good girl.”
“Satoruu~” your hands finally managed to leave his arms before wrapping around his neck, pulling him tighter against you.
“That's it, you’re gonna be good for me, right? Gonna let me bottom out inside that sweet tight cunt?”
You didn't even need to give him permission; his hips meet yours as he’s balls deep inside of you. You are breathing heavily against each other’s mouths. Your soft whimpering mixes in with his deep guttural groans.
“Tight, you're so tight, almost had me blowing my load like I was the virgin.” he pressed his mouth against yours and gave a soft, gentle kiss. “Are you okay?”
You nod, a wanton moan leaving your mouth as he begins grinding his hips into you and not entirely pulling out to thrust back in. But the simple grinding of his cock inside of your pussy, hitting your g-spot, made you squirm underneath him. Satoru repeats the grinding for a few minutes before his lips leave yours.
“I'm gonna start moving, okay?” Your little moans and nods were the only signs Gojo needed to see and hear to know he was ready to move. His poor little sweetheart hadn’t even been fucked thoroughly yet, and she already couldn’t find her voice. “Hey, if you need me to stop, just let me know.”
His hips move, gently pulling back before snapping forward, burying himself deep into your tight heat. He groans breathlessly, eyes shut tight as your walls clamp down on him. “Oooh fuuuck, fuck, you're so tight, so tight, baby.” he pulls out again, leaving you gasping before he immerses himself back into your cunt. “Fuck you feel that~ feel my cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy? Does that feel good for you, baby? Huh?” Satoru growls as he sets a gentle pace, gently fucking you into the bed.
“S-So good T-Toru, haaa haaah fuck you're twitching.” At the sound of your voice, Satoru’s cock twitched again, this time even harder, making you shudder at the knowledge you were making him feel this good.
“Of course, I’m twitching; you're so fucking wet and warm; it honestly feels like my dick is melting inside. So yeah, fuck, fuck,” his pace speeds up, “my dick is twitching inside of you because you feel so fucking good.”
Having sex felt so good! Having sex with Satoru, well damn, it was like heaven on earth. Well, you didn’t have anyone else to compare it to, but you knew that your first time was monumentally better than anyone else. He was so gentle, kind, and patient with you. You couldn’t think of anybody else that would be that sweet. God, he made you feel so good.
Your back arched off the mattress as you dug your nails into his back, climbing up his muscles with your nails. The pain dialed him up, pushing him to fuck you faster and deeper while trying to be as gentle as he could, knowing the fact that you were a virgin. He could only maintain his composure for so long thought.
“F-Fuck, ooooh fuck, fuck.” His cock is dragging against the spots deep inside of you that felt like pure pleasure every time he brushed against them. With each touch of those sweet spots, your wall hugged his cock, letting him know you were closer to your orgasm as much as he was. “Yeah, you like that baby? Like it when I fuck you like this? I popped your cherry, and now I’m fucking you into the mattress.” You’re so loud that your moans reverberate off the walls. “Yeah, you love it. You love my cock inside that pussy.”
“Y-Yeah! I love it!” A coil deep in your abdomen begins tightening and tightening. “I-I’m gonna cum!” eyes locking on with Satoru’s “Oh fuck, fuck I’m close, Toru!”
“Cum for me, milk my cock, sweetheart~ that's it~ that's a good girl~ yeah~” his thrust no longer has any rhythm; all that’s going on in his head is making you cum and filling you up.
Your orgasm hits you hard in the gut like a punch to the stomach. It’s not painful in the slightest. It is a pure, unfiltered pleasure. The kind pleasure that has you seeing white spots. You scream into the void as you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and the bed. The image of you cumming so hard sends Satoru tumbling over the edge right after you. He curses and grits his teeth before he latches his mouth into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving marks for only him to see.
You’re a shaking, sweat-soaked mess by the time Satoru pulls off of you, falling onto his side next to you. His lips gently press against your cheek before finding your lips. They move against yours in a symphony of pleasure and pure bliss. Satoru spoons you, his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you flush against his naked form.
“You did so good.” His voice is so soft, lulling you to sleep. “Such a good girl~ thank you for letting me be your first.”
You hum, happily turning to kiss him on the lips before resting your head against your pillow. Slowly losing yourself in the warmth of his body against yours. “Thank you for making my first time so special.” His fingers gently graze over your skin as he breathes heavily against the nape of your neck.
“Mhmm, you're welcome. Get some rest, okay?”
You don’t even answer because you’re already sleeping. You dream the most peaceful, beautiful dreams. Ones where you, Satoru, have sex, go out on dates and enjoy each other’s company. God, you couldn’t wait to see you the next day took you. What did the future have in store for the two of you? More happy-go-lucky memories like this? If you could live through days like this, you would be the happiest woman in the entire world.
Dopamine and serotonin spread through your veins throughout the night while you sleep and find you in the early morning sunlight. You’re under the crisp, cool sheets that cradle your body. It’s when you move to turn to look at Satoru that you realize just how sore your body is. You hurt in places that you didn’t know were even possible to hurt.
All you needed was a nice hot shower with your extremely hot partner, and you should be all set to go. Rolling onto your side to look at him, your smile fades. Satoru isn't there.
You reach for the side of the bed he had fallen asleep in, trying to see if his lingering warmth was there. Hoping that if it did, maybe he was in the bathroom or the kitchen making you breakfast in the movies. But the crisp sheets under your hands are cold. He must have left hours ago.
Sitting up in bed, you reach for your cell phone on the nightstand next to you. Unlocking it, you search for a message Satoru may have sent you about why he would leave after such a perfect night. There is no message. No missed calls, no text messages. Nothing. He had slept with you, taking your virginity, and he left you with nothing.
Everything from the night before was perfect. You both had a great time, so why would he get up and leave without telling you? Even if he went to get breakfast for the two of you, he could have at least texted you to let you know that. Even when you pulled yourself out of bed with wobbly legs, you discovered he wasn’t even in your living room, let alone your apartment.
The truth hit you like a wrecking ball. Nanami had been right. He warned you. Your best friend warned you that Gojo was a serial cherry popper. You didn’t listen to him. You thought you knew him better, but the months of flirting back and forth, the late-night conversations on the phone, and the missions meant more than just one nightstand.
The hopes of there being any connection between the two of you left your apartment just like he did. You would never not listen to Nanami again; he was always looking out for you. Since you hadn't heeded his warning, you had to suffer with the heartache you had brought upon yourself. That Sunday, you cried yourself back to sleep curled into a ball and mourned your stupidity and the loss of a relationship that never even existed
The next day, you texted Yaga, letting him know you wouldn’t be coming to work for the next couple of days. You needed time to think about what you needed to do next. Gojo was your colleague and a man with whom you were forced to go on missions and teach the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers. Being around him would be challenging. If things had played out differently, and he didn’t just up and leave you alone in the apartment, maybe you wouldn’t have to be weighing your options.
The way you looked at it, you had two different choices. You could completely ignore Gojo when you return to work—keeping things strictly professional between you. Or you could ask to be transferred to Kyoto, where you would never have to see his face again.
You return to work on Wednesday, and the second you step through the school gates, Gojo stands there waiting for you. His hair was fluffed up as his blindfold was pulled over his eyes, but you could tell his gaze was locked on you.
“Hey, we need to talk.” He tried speaking to you, but you ignored him. “Sweetheart, please just listen to me.”
“I have work to do, excuse me.”
The entire day, Gojo kept bugging you and begging for you to stop to listen to what he had to say. Whatever excuses he had come up with, he could shove them up his ass. He had left you without any explanation at all. So he didn’t deserve your time of day.
You finally found some peace when he was forced to teach the first years for his class. As he left, he pleaded for you to set some time aside so that you could talk things out later. There was no way in hell you were going to sit there and listen to whatever bullshit excuse he came up with. You couldn’t, not when you had been told what kind of person he was, and against your better judgment, you went through with sleeping with him.
Before you could find yourself in another stupor, the door to your classroom opened, and Yaga stepped inside. The higher-ups had requested your assistance with a curse downtown. Specifically, they asked for both you and Gojo to assist. He was preoccupied with his students, so you decided this was easy to handle.
Instead of waiting to talk to him personally about taking on this mission on your own, you did exactly what he had done to you days prior: left without saying a word. You grabbed your shit and walked out the door; being courteous enough, you left a note behind on your desk. It also colorfully told him you had nothing to say about sleeping together.
Your words described how you thought he was different, how you had assumed there was more than just a one-night stand between you, but he had other ideas. At the end of your note, you wished him a long and happy life; there was nothing more to say after that. Writing that note allowed you to get all of your frustration, everything, off your chest without actually saying it to his face.
With the note behind you, you had one of the assistant supervisors drive you to the location of an abandoned building. Luckily, with the curse inside, you didn't have to lower a veil. This was, hopefully, going to be a simple in-and-out mission. At Least, you thought it would be.
Stepping inside the building, you automatically sensed the presence of the curse. One that was a grade four curse, making it super easy to take out. You honestly did it in record-breaking time, but it wasn’t the curse you had to worry about.
The curse user watching you the entire time you fought against his little monster charged you the instant his curse spirit dissipated. He pinned you to the ground, his hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing down on it. You choked, kicking your feet underneath him; your talisman paper was just out of reach; your fingers grazed over it, but you couldn’t grasp it. The man above you looked at you with dark black eyes, determined to kill you.
“I worked so hard to train that curse!” the man shouted as you gurgled on your saliva. “Then you come in here and just destroy it?! How are you any better than they are?!”
Your nails dug into the flesh of his hands, yanking and pulling at his fingers, trying to free yourself as your shoes slid against the dirty floor. Black spots began to appear in your vision; you were so close to passing out. Maybe you should have waited for Satoru. He may have been an asshole but at least he would’ve had your back.
“You sorcerers all deserve to die!”
Help me.
“Die and rot in hell when you belong!”
Please, someone, anyone!
“You deser—”
A flash of red floods the room as the man is sent flying through a wall, well, several walls, finally freeing you from his grip. You curl in on yourself, coughing and gulping down air. You don’t even have a chance to fully recover before you’re scooped up into arms, arms that had held you several nights before. Gojo says nothing as he carries you out of the room you had almost lost your life in.
Silence remains thick until he takes you outside and sits you on the concrete stairs leading to the alleyway. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” The urge to run away is as strong as your need to take deep breaths. There was no point in running now, especially after Gojo had saved your life.
He returned several minutes later, waving at the assistant supervisor's black car. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he watches the car turn the corner before he turns in your direction. His blindfold is still entirely on hiding his eyes from you. But just like this morning, you can feel his gaze locked solely on you.
“We got ten minutes before the cops show up.” You give him a thumbs up, winning a frustrated sigh back. “I got your note.”
“Good.” Your voice cracks as you try to clear your throat.
“No, it’s not good.” He snaps, stomping towards you, crouching down in front of you. “You honestly think I didn’t feel anything that night? That was just a one-night stand?”
“You left!” You cough roughly. “You left without a word, Gojo! What else am I supposed to think? To me, you leaving without a word is pretty plain and clear.”
A large hand cups your face, holding it gently. “Yaga called me in for an emergency. I was needed at the Kyoto school that morning.” You blinked back tears. “And I was going to call you, but I left my phone at the bar because I was so excited to be with you finally.” His head dropped forward with a heavy sigh. “But the more that I think about it, the more that’s like a shitty excuse. I should’ve woken you up before I left, but you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to. I should’ve known and done better. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
“Yeah, you should have asshole,” you sigh, “ at least you have another cherry under your belt.”
“I don’t just want you to be another girl in the notch of my belt!” His hand tightens around your face. “ I know I fucked up. I didn’t get to truly talk to you and tell you how I feel about you.” Your eyes met his. “This isn’t an ideal situation either, having just saved your life, and I almost killed that man.” He yanks his blindfold down, revealing his blue eyes to you. Eyes that are solely focused on you. “This is a terrible time to tell you that I love you; I love you so damn much.”
For the second time today, you find it hard to breathe. Your eyes widen in shock as Satoru stares at you, waiting for you to respond to his confession. If he had told you this several days ago before he had left without a word, you would’ve been over the moon. Now, you weren’t sure how to react. Part of you was still happy that he felt that way, but he left without a word; he should have handled things differently. That was in the past, though there was no point in crying over something that had already happened.
Deep inside your heart, you knew how you felt regardless of what had happened days before.
“I love you too, you idiot.” The white-haired man before you perks up, grinning wide. “But I’m still pissed off. You owe me big time for leaving me after popping my cherry dick.”
“Baby, I’ll do anything you ask, anything.” His hands are gripping yours, planting kisses against the back of them.
“I want you to take me on a date. A real date with food and dessert.”
He smiled softly, his dimple visible as he planted another kiss on your hand. “Dinner and dessert, I can handle that.” He helps you stand, ushering you forward, his hand in yours. “I could sweeten the deal. Maybe I could make you cum on my tongue all night? You don’t even have to worry about me. Just let me worship you if you want.” While his offer is tempting, you lean against him.
“Honestly, I’d rather go on a date and have mind-blowing sex like the other night, just without you leaving me.”
“I can do that too.”
Satoru is true to his word; he takes you to the nicest restaurant he knows. Buys you a bottle of champagne, orders a five-course meal, and every dessert on the menu. After your wonderful first date, he takes you back to his apartment and makes sweet love to you all night. He had you arching, gasping, and clawing at his back for the second time in your life.
The following day, you wake up finding him missing again. The bedroom door opens before you can grab your phone to see where he is. Satoru comes in with a massive tray of food. Mixed berries, coffee, pancakes, and eggs and bacon. He sits on the bed beside you, setting the tray between you.
“Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He offers you a steaming cup of coffee that you gladly take,
“I slept great.” You lean over kissing his lips softly.
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luveline · 4 months
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oh my, oh my. I adored your fics where reader is smitten over reid with his glasses and then where reid is smitten with reader in her glasses! can I request something similar with hotch, where he's the one flustered - or, at least, his reaction lol - by reader wearing her glasses for the first time? <3
thank you for your request <3 fem
“Hotch, can I ask you something?” 
He hadn’t heard you knock, lost in thought behind his desk, and he knows you won’t begrudge him for failing to look up. “Of course,” he says. 
“I went to the eye doctor a few days ago and everything was fine, but she said my contacts are gonna keep degrading my eye health, apparently, if I keep wearing them. Do you think I could wear my glasses in the field?” 
Hotch takes a moment for your asking to catch up with him, desperately printing the last of his thoughts into a consult note. He makes a spelling mistake in his rush. Frowning, he crosses it out and corrects it neatly. “Uh, you want to start wearing glasses in the field?” 
“Yeah. Do you think that would work?” 
“I don’t see why not.” He stops himself firmly, before he can call you honey. Hotch doesn’t want to patronise or condescend you even in his thoughts, but he has to remark to himself that you sound adorably over-concerned. “Reid picks and chooses when he wears his own glasses, and he’s never…” 
He’d finally managed to tear his gaze from his desk and found you standing further away than he’d thought, in a black pencil skirt that flares out gently at the end like a flower bulb, a neat shirt with a triangular collar showcasing just a slip of your chest and the small silver necklace you wear. None of this is unusual, Hotch is used to finding you charming and lovely by now, it’s the glasses that shock him. He hadn’t realised you’d actually be wearing them. 
They’re not thick nor too thin, simple black frames made of a translucent plastic. They’re glasses like any other, and Hotch can’t diagnose his own reaction to it. Perhaps it’s how they sit on your nose, or the cutesying effect they give your expression. They make your eyes look a little darker than usual. They’re everything. 
“Hotch?” you ask. 
“He’s never had any problems,” Hotch finishes, ever so slightly breathless, his hands falling to his thighs. 
“They look stupid.” 
“What?” 
You raise the back of your hand to your cheek and press it there with fingers curled loosely inward, “I know they look silly, I haven’t worn them in a while, but my eyes hurt everyday with those contacts, no matter how much saline I use–”
“No,” he says. He stands, and he swallows against nothing. It’s embarrassing for his age. “They don’t look silly. You should wear whatever makes you most comfortable.”  
“I knew they looked silly,” you say again, turning toward the door. “Sir, you just stared at me. I never should’ve let Spencer tell me they looked cute.” 
“They do look cute,” Hotch says, rounding his desk. He stands in front of it rather than crowd you at the door. 
He isn’t unaware of his own influence. His moving has stopped you from leaving. His compliment, especially one far from his usual professionalism, sticks you like a flytrap. 
“You look just as nice with them as you do without them,” he furthers. “I’ve never seen you wear them before.”
“Well, I was always underwhelming, growing up. I didn’t think glasses helped.” 
“Underwhelming?” he asks. 
You smile like you’ve caught him. He doesn’t like to be caught, and he turns away to pretend to look for something, but he’s saved by another presence on the landing. 
“Oh my god,” Morgan says, looking you up and down with an affirmative, sweet appreciation. Morgan might make a show of it sometimes, but he’s genuine as he continues, “Sweetheart, what am I gonna do with you?” 
“They’re not strange?” you ask.
“Is that what the boss man said?” 
You look back at Hotch bashfully, and that look alone catches him all over again. Morgan watches through the doorway and he knows he’s doomed —Hotch’s feelings are, for that split-second, plain as day. 
“He didn’t say they were strange, no,” you say gently. 
Hotch wonders if he should insist on contacts after all. “They’re suitable for every day.” 
“Suitable,” Morgan says. 
Hotch gives him a you’re-pushing-it squint and everyone decides they have things to be doing, leaving him alone to panic. (He doesn’t panic, he’s not the type, he just remembers your new look and feels his heart give irregular pangs a few times an hour for the rest of the afternoon.) 
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