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demonvibez · 1 year ago

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A Midnight Encounter - Part 2

Characters: [Asmodeus / Beelzebub / Belphegor / Diavolo] x F! Reader Word Count: 5.1k+ Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes] Tags: suggestive/sexual themes, making out, light petting/groping, chest play, reader = she/her pronouns, each demon has a lil backstory, possessive demons A/N: Thanks for all of the love on part one! Part two is just a tad more suggestive than part one, due to a couple of the demons involved. Hope you enjoy! ♡

[Part Two of Two - Read Part One Here]

It was late at night in the House of Lamentation, and you had just finished preparing yourself for bed. You had finished your homework for the day, as well as your nighttime routine, and it was time for you to settle down. Just as you sit down on the edge of your bed, you start thinking about how it would be nice to have a quick little snack before you turn in to sleep for the night. Picking up your DDD from the nightstand, you check the time to see just how late it was. You decide that it was probably late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it was safe to venture out into the house alone with what you are wearing - a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. You push yourself up off the bed and cross the room, making your way towards the door. Leaving your bedroom door open, you make your way towards the kitchen next door . . .

Asmodeus is on the way back from an extremely exhausting day with Solomon, having run errands all across the Devildom with him. He pours himself through the front door with a dramatic flair, a loud pouty whine and a sigh escaping his lips before he tosses his jacket onto the coat rack and makes his way towards the kitchen. He knows that what he needs to end such a draining day is to just relax and sink into his night time routine before settling down to get his beauty sleep. As he saunters across the hallway, he pulls his DDD out of his front pocket, opening it up and haphazardly scrolling through it while he mindlessly walks to the kitchen. He just needs to pop by real quick to get a little potion to add to his face mask for the night - he deserves it after the filthy mess that Solomon dragged him through today! How rude of him~!

Solomon had originally invited Asmo out under the guise of going to a "social club" up in the human realm. The pair had originally asked if you wanted to go along with them, to hang out and get some fresh sun on your skin, but you had prior arrangements to bake and have tea with the Angels over at Purgatory Hall. Unfortunately for Asmo you had to decline - and he really wishes you hadn't! Without you there, it was just awful! Turns out it was no social club at all! Asmo was tricked into going to that stuffy Sorcerer's Society where he had to listen to Sol talk to some crusty old men for several hours. After that, the group of sorcerers dragged poor Asmo out to a remote village, where they spent half of their evening hiking around a mountain in search of a hippogryph they wanted him to use his powers to charm. It was absolutely horrible! No place for someone like the Avatar of Lust to be showing his pretty face~!

All in all, it had been a very exhausting day for Asmodeus. He would normally do his quick routine after experiencing a day like today, but he thought tonight he definitely deserves an extra little treat~! Little did he know that once he reaches the kitchen doorway, however, that a different type of treat would be waiting before him. He almost doesn't notice you standing there at first, his attention deep within his own Devilgram feed, but seeing your gentle form gracefully searching around the kitchen in the middle of the night makes him do a double take. His sunset colored eyes begin to sparkle pink with lust as they take in every inch of you, every subtle little curve accentuated by your adorable little pajamas that he would love to see you wearing more often. He watches as you take a pack of Hell Sauce Flavored Instant Noodles from the top of one of the cupboards, your tiny little cotton shorts riding up just so slightly that the curve of your cheeks peek out from beneath them - just enough to toy with his mind.

Asmodeus can't help but to wonder to himself if you know exactly what you're doing to him - if you know how easily you can charm beings from all three realms as if you are the Avatar of Lust, and not him. How you don't even need magic to make Lust itself weak for you, just merely existing near him is enough to make him go feral. Do you even know how much he thinks about you? How he is just utterly obsessed with you? Can he really even be called self-centered if his mind is only filled with you? Asmo never knew he could feel like this - that he could not only have such powerfully passionate feelings for another person, but that he would also see his sin in an entirely new light. Just as he is seeing you in an entirely new light. Don't you know how gorgeous you look right now? The way the light from the fire on the stove illuminates your flawless face, cascading down each of your perfect curves and making your natural beauty glow in the middle of the kitchen. He can't help but to drink you in with his eyes, memorizing every inch of your body left exposed by your little outfit. Oh how he wishes you would dress like this for him more often. You look so good when you show off your body like this, he has about a hundred outfits he'll give you if you want. He'd love to dress you up in them, right before slowly stripping them off of you, worshipping you every step of the way...

Eyes glowing pink and mind full of lust, Asmodeus glides over to you and pulls you into his embrace right as you notice his presence, before you are even able to speak.

"Well, isn't it nice seeing you here, muffin," he says as he squeezes you, leaning down to press light little kisses into your neck. "I would have come home sooner if I knew such a delicious little snack was awaiting me in the kitchen," he whispers as he kisses his way up to your ear, his hands gently teasing and caressing your body as you turn into putty under Asmo's touch. One of his hands snakes it's way up the front of your shirt as the other holds you firmly in place against him, a soft moan escaping your lips as he gently plays with your breasts, his plush lips nibbling on your ear. Your eyes flutter shut, your mind eager to let go and let the sensations take you over, when Asmo suddenly pulls away. You let out a small whine and turn around to face him. He grabs you by the hips and chuckles.

"You're too adorable when you pout," he says as his lips finally caress yours, the kiss light at first but building in passion and intensity as the lust continues to build between the two of you. Suddenly Asmo realizes that he has no idea when your tongue entered his mouth - he is just so consumed with you, he didn't even notice. Your hands begin to roam up and down his body, small moans escaping from the both of you. Asmo can't help but to wrap his arms around you and pull you in tighter, pressing his hips into yours as he grabs your ass. There is so much lust built up between the two of you, he can't even tell which of you it belongs to anymore. You run your hands through his strawberry blonde hair, noticing his demon form when your fingers graze one of his horns, and the whimper you elicit from him along with it. You slowly start to stroke it, massaging as you kiss him, low moans rumbling from his throat with each stroke. The pace of your kisses slow down until you finally pull away.

"Aren't you just the most precious little human ever," he said, pulling you up to carry you, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist as you frantically grab at securing your hold around his neck and tugging his hair a little. He lets out a light giggle. Everyone always forgets how strong he is!

"Don't worry, honey. I've got you. We can finish up this little party in my room~♡" he says in a sultry tone, carrying you out of the kitchen and up to his room.

Of course Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony, would never miss one of his infamous midnight snack raids. Tonight, however, Beelzebub is feeling the effects of his sin a bit harder - he had a particularly rough fangol practice that day, so he feels even more ravenous than he normally does. He usually enjoys his days playing fangol, the extreme workouts coupled with intense competition making it so Beelzebub can really let loose and blow off some steam. Today's practice, though, was no normal scrimmage match. Instead, a few of his teammates had decided to play a prank on the school's rival team, resulting in them being disqualified from District Championships. Of course, the coaches were nothing less than infuriated. Before practice even started, the entirety of RAD had been called to assembly and lectured by their Head Coach on proper student conduct - with a half hour interlude from Lucifer about respect. After that, the coaches took the entire team out to the Colosseum to run laps around it. When the laps were done, they had to do endless drills, and Beelzebub wasn't even given a snack break for any of this. He didn't even partake in the prank! He was out at Madame Scream's with you trying the newest flavor of Blood Macarons! But here he was, doing tackle drills until he drops, without a single little bag of Spicy Newt Chips.

It is far past dinner time when his coaches dismiss his team. Beel makes his way home and through the front door of the House, dropping his duffle bag right inside the door before starting his shuffle towards the kitchen. With each step forward, Beel can't help but to fantasize about Shadow Goose Burgers and Deep-Fried Devil Zebra, his mouth starting to water as his stomach rumbles abnormally loudly. He finally arrives in the kitchen, crossing over towards the fridge, ripping the door open with urgency and pulling out the first item he sees. He doesn't care if the food is marked for a later date, whether it's leftovers or ingredients for a recipe - Beel was starving and he was gonna consume every little bit of food in sight. He doesn't usually like to indulge in his sin like this, always feeling immense guilt after his binges are over, but today he feels he deserves it. He restrained himself all day, put up with his coaches' punishments, and didn't fly into a rampage a single time. He earned this midnight binge in his eyes, and he really didn't care if it meant he would have to pay to replace the entire kitchen tomorrow. Hell, even if Lucifer strings him up, it will be worth it if he can satisfy some of this unrelenting hunger.

A few minutes later, you make your way to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to see Beelzebub standing in the glow of the refrigerator. The door is ajar as he pulls various food items out, opening them up and tossing them into his mouth without a care in the Devildom. You can't help but to crack a tiny smile as you watch him, finding the sight of him eating an entire Eclipse Mince Pie in one bite too adorable. Anyone else would be mad, seeing as that was supposed to be tomorrow evening's dinner, but you just love seeing that warm smile on the Avatar of Gluttony's face. Beelzebub pulls a Devil Crush Mango Parfait out of the fridge, tearing off the cling wrap and turning up the glass to pour its contents into his mouth, the parfait dribbling down his lips and chin in the process.

You can't help but to let out a small giggle, which causes Beel to stop what he's doing and finally turn to look at you, his eyes widening slightly and his hand losing grip of the parfait when he sees how you're dressed. The sound of glass shattering fills the room and a blush creeps over Beel's face at the realization of the lost dessert. Suddenly, another realization dawns on him - he's not hungry for food anymore. He wipes his face on the back of his jacket sleeve before slamming the refrigerator door shut with one hand, stepping over the shattered parfait to walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his large frame towering above as he looks down at you with his violet eyes and rosy cheeks. Your name escapes his lips in a low, grizzly tone, causing your heart rate to speed up just a little. "You really look beautiful tonight," he says, always being honest with what he thinks and feels about you. His eyes scan you up and down once more before the blush on his cheeks deepen, creeping down onto his neck.

His arms reach out and wrap around you, pulling you closer to his body. The look you give him when you look up at him, along with your tiny little hands resting on his chest, are all he needs to give in to his desire and lean down to kiss you. The feel of your body against his, the taste of your lips on his tongue, Beel can't help but to think he's in the Celestial Realm all over again. Your lips are sweeter than Celestial Chocolate and he feels himself getting more and more addicted to the taste with each kiss. The Avatar of Gluttony often talks with his mouth full, and just like when he eats, he can't help but to sing your praises as he pours his love for you into every kiss.

"Mmm...ou're so am-zngly 'ewiciousss," he says, refusing to break contact with your lips.

You giggle against his lips, your hands roaming his chest and abs before snaking their way around the back of his neck and up through his fiery orange hair. You can still taste the hints of mango on his tongue when it brushes past your lips to meet yours, and you swear Devil Crush Mango tastes better this way. His hold on you tightens slightly, causing your feet to lift off the ground in his embrace, his kisses as sloppy and ravenous as he previously was for food. After a few more moments, you finally pull away, breathing heavily with a smile on your face. As you catch your breath, Beelzebub looks at you with those adorable puppy dog eyes of his.

"I think I'm hungry for you right now...can we continue this in your room? Please?" And before you can finish nodding and telling him your affirmative, Beel is picking you up and carrying you to your room. He doesn't even care about the state of the kitchen or the broken parfait on the floor - he can deal with his brothers yelling tomorrow if he gets to feast on you now.

Belphegor had slept through dinner, hidden away in a crevice of the House of Lamentation where none of his brothers could find him, his DDD on ‘Do Not Disturb.’ He had a particularly annoying day today, and he just wanted to snooze it away peacefully and without interruption.

It all started this morning when Lucifer was nagging him at breakfast - the eldest was complaining about the state of the attic, ranting about how the Avatar of Sloth needed to keep it clean if he intended on keeping it as a second room for himself. Then his brothers started arguing over the idea that Belphie has a 'second room' - Asmodeus wanting to expand his closet, Leviathan needing new shelves for all of his various collections, they kept rambling on and on as Belphie tried falling back asleep for a few more minutes, only to be awakened by the shattering of a plate thrown by Satan. He knew it was going to be a long day at that moment.

It was only made worse by the fact that Mammon was being extra greedy with you all day, and Belphie felt like he has barely gotten to see you at all. Every time he would approach you and try to talk to you, even if it was something for class, Mammon would find a way to butt in and steal you. It really pisses Belphegor off thinking about how his brothers always steal you away from him. When he made his pact with you, he meant every single word of what he said. He wants to be closer to you than anyone, and it upsets him when his idiot brothers get in his way of accomplishing that. He'd do anything to constantly bask in the warm sunlight of your attention and affection. He wants nothing more than to just have you all to himself - to steal you away to the attic and lock you both in there, napping away the world and living a beautiful life together in the dream realm.

But of course, he can't do that. You would never be happy just sleeping your life away. And as much as he tried to get your attention today, apparently it just wasn't in the stars for him. His brothers were always going to be in your life, occupying your time and stealing you away from him. Especially Mammon. Which usually, he doesn't generally mind his brothers much. But when it comes to you, everything is different. You're their precious human. The human that made him see the entire world differently. The human that had extinguished the fire of hatred that had been burning inside of him for thousands of years. You mean the world to him - his human, his first love, his starlight, his everything. And when he gets denied access to you - especially from his scummy older brother that he swears still doesn't trust him with you - he can't help but shake the feeling of emptiness inside of him.

The Avatar of Sloth doesn't like it when he can't get his way. He wants what he wants, and what he wants is you, and he wants you now. But...sadly, he can't have you now. Because, of course, Stupid Mammon has you roped into helping him with one of his side gigs for the afternoon, and he has no clue what time you'll be back. Sulking off up the stairs with is favorite cow pillow under one arm, Belphie went to go slumber in one of his best kept secret hiding places. He dozes off to the dream realm to see you in his memories, hopeful of seeing the real you when he wakes up.

Hours pass, and Belphegor awakens from his prolonged nap. He pulls his DDD out of his jacket pocket to look at the time, seeing how late it is before putting it back - definitely past dinner time. His stomach grumbles, and he pauses for a moment to observe it, trying to figure out if the feeling is from himself or his twin. His stomach rumbles louder, this time with a certain empty pain, and he decides he must be the one that is hungry. He climbs out of his hiding spot and decides he might as well hit up the kitchen to see if his twin has left him anything. As he makes he way down the hall, pillow in his hold once again, he can't help but to reminisce over the dream he had while he was asleep - it was a memory of the two of you cuddling under the stars on his (and his twin's) birthday. He'll never forget the way you looked under the light of the Devildom moons that night. He wouldn't trade that memory for anything.

Belphie makes quick work of making his way downstairs, turning the corner and making his way straight to the kitchen. 'Maybe I should go see if she's home after I eat' he thought to himself, 'sneak into her bed and cuddle if she's asleep.' He approaches the door, seeing the light cascading from the door frame, assuming his twin is awake and feeling the same pangs of hunger as he is. Right before he walks into the room, he stops himself, his violet eyes widening as he sees you. Instead of approaching you immediately, he slinks back into the shadows, deciding to observe you from afar for a few moments.

He takes in every inch of you with his eyes as you prepare yourself a bowl of Cinnamon Hell Flakes, the memory burning into his mind at the rare sight of you wearing such skimpy little pajamas. He's never seen you like this before. Sure, he's slept in your bed hundreds of times, but you're usually in baggy pajamas or you're wearing your day clothes, caught up in his midday naps. He's never seen you wear anything so tantalizing. The way your tank top hugs your breasts, the way your shorts shape your ass and expose your thighs, tempting him to want to see more...

Do you even know how much of a tease you're being? You don't, do you? Before you can take a single bite of your cereal, he drops his pillow down and sneaks up behind you, wrapping both his arms and tail around you. He buries his face in your shoulder and starts to pepper your skin with kisses, nipping little bites here and there, not wanting to bite down too hard but being sure to leave tiny little marks. The more he breathes in your scent, the more he just wants to possess you. His kisses get a little bit rougher, more frantic as his lips trail their way up your neck. You can't help but to want to give in to Belphegor's touch, dropping your spoon onto the counter as your eyes flutter closed. A soft moan escapes your lips as his hands slide up the front of your shirt, your breath hitching as he nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name.

"I've been wanting you all day, but you've been busy entertaining my idiot brothers," he said. Suddenly, you feel his tail slide up and around your waist as his hand pulls your chin to look up at him. "You're gonna make it up to me right," he said in a low tone, his lips finally crashing onto yours, his kisses needy, passionate and intense. You match his intensity, pouring just as much passion into the kiss, both of you letting out little moans and wanting more. You break the kiss, turning around in his hold.

"Let's go the the attic," you suggest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Belphegor will be making sure the two of you didn't actually get any sleep for a while tonight.

Lord Diavolo was over at the House of Lamentation late at night. Earlier Barbatos had rushed into his office with an abnormally large stack of paperwork, and an earful of complaints from the Nobles, so he went over to the House to recruit Lucifer’s help and start working on the pressing matter. The three of them had locked themselves away in Lucifer’s private study for the last few hours, toiling away with form after form, eager to reach a solution together that would please everyone. Diavolo can feel himself begin to go a bit stir crazy as time continues to pass like molasses - he needs a break, and he needs it now. Barbatos offers to stop and make the Young Master some of his favorite tea, but he politely declines his butler - Diavolo needs to stretch his legs and get some air. He reassures the other two that he will be fine, they can continue working - he is just going to take a quick stroll around the House and be right back.

Taking his leave from the secret study, Diavolo begins to wander around the halls of the House of Lamentation. He is usually here on business and doesn’t get to just hang out much, so it’s nice for him to be able to see more of the mansion at his own leisure. It’s a shame for him that everyone is asleep at this hour, for he would love to join in on your chaos with the brothers - but he’ll enjoy this rare moment all the same. Speaking of the House’s inhabitants, his mind couldn’t help but to wander to think only of you. As he mindlessly makes his way down the stairs, he can't help but to wonder how you’re faring in his realm. 'Are you happy here? Is there anything you need?' He hopes you know you can always come to him when you need something. Just say the word and he won't hesitate to give you anything you could possibly desire. 'Are you lonely? No...probably not. You have the brothers, after all...'

Diavolo rarely gets to see you alone. Thinking about this, he lets out a small annoyed huff as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, crossing his arms across his chest. It's not lost on him that almost every moment of your waking hours are occupied by one of the Seven Avatars of Sin. As much as he loves his best friend, and his 6 rowdy younger brothers, he couldn't help but to feel a small thorn of envy pierce at his heart when he thinks about the connection you have with the demon brothers. A connection he may never have with you, given the nature of the seven pacts you hold with them. It's as if that shiny, perfect soul you have is intertwined with theirs, and for political reasons, he may never be able to have that with you. You, the adorable human that stumbled into the Devildom and danced your way right to his heart without even trying. The one that charms beings from all three realms so effortlessly. The one that treats him like he can be normal and do "normie things" (as Leviathan calls it), instead of just treating him like some stuffy royal you are forced to associate with. He feels like you really see him, and every time he thinks about you his love for you grows. A twinge of insecurity sneaks into the back of his mind, for he has no idea how you truly feel about him. You're always so busy with the brothers, getting pulled into various shenanigans all across the Devildom with them, he feels like he never gets enough time with you. Sometimes he wishes you would just tell the brothers off and run away to his Castle so that he can make you fully his and pamper you. He wants so badly to make you his princess, he'll do almost anything.

Just as the thoughts were swirling around in the Young Prince's mind, he began to hear a clatter coming from down the hallway. Raising an eyebrow, Diavolo began to press forward, curious to see what the cause of the noise was. He pauses by your door, seeing it open and turning his head to look inside, quickly scanning to find it empty. He raises an eyebrow, finding it odd that you wouldn't be safely tucked in your bed at such a late hour. Continuing towards his original destination, he stops again in the doorway when he sees you, and in that moment the icy thorn of jealousy and loneliness in his chest starts to melt away into something warmer. Only in his fantasies has he seen you dressed in something like this. Fantasies of the two of you tangled in his silk sheets, sharing the most intimate moments of lust and love together before falling asleep in each other's arms. He had no idea when he left Lucifer's study to take a break that he would get so lucky as to run into you like this. He can't help the dark blush that dusts across his face, his golden eyes smoldering as he takes in your appearance. He unfolds his arms and holds them outwards to you, hoping you will hug him as he says your name.

"I didn't expect to see you up this late." You walk up to him and wrap your arms around him, immediately getting engulfed in one of his famous warm hugs. He's so much larger than you are, and the feeling of his arms wrapping around you and holding you close as your chest presses against his make you want to melt. His cologne smells so intoxicatingly good that you almost forgot he had said something to you.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here either, Dia," you finally reply to him, slightly flustered.

Diavolo's heart starts to beat faster at the sound of you calling him such a cute little nickname. He looks down at you with a fond smile, and he can't help but to seize the moment when he sees the look in your eyes, assuring him you may return some of his feelings. He leans down and finally presses his lips to yours, your eyes fluttering shut as you wrap your arms around his neck. You feel his large hands slide down your back, his hold on you growing possessive. Much to his surprise however, you nibble on his bottom lip before sliding your tongue across it, asking for entrance. You wanted to deepen the kiss, and of course he would always oblige you. As you feel his tongue massage yours, you can't help but to let out a little moan, causing Diavolo's resolve to weaken that much more. You hear a small growl rumble from his chest, his hands sliding down to cup your ass and pick you up, your legs instantly squeezing around his waist as your hands slide into that soft red hair of his. A few moments later and he breaks the kiss, setting you down on the kitchen island's counter while still keeping his hold on you.

"I want nothing more than to take you back to my Castle, take you to my room, and keep you in my bed forever," he says, his golden eyes blazing with lust and love for you. You lean in to crash your lips against his once again, murmuring 'yes' and 'lets go' in between kisses. He reaches down to his pocket and pulls out his DDD to call Barbatos and tell him to portal you all home - having you in his bed tonight is far more important than some boring paperwork, Nobles be damned.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 2 months ago

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ALL THE BETTER

KINKTOBER DAY 2 - RED RIDING HOOD AU WITH EMMETT

Pairing - Emmett x fem!reader

Summary - You must deal with the consequences after leading the wolf into your grandmother’s cottage

Warnings - non con, dubcon, character death, fingering, handjob, p in v, marking, rutting, werewolf.

Word count - 3.1k

Notes - Set in the 1700s. Doesn't Emmett just give off big bad wolf vibes to you? Was suppose to be a very very long story, but couldn’t find the inspiration to finish it in time so i sliced it lol. Not my best work, was really hard to do but oh well it’s kinktober.

It was all your fault. These consequences were due to your naive actions over the past few weeks of knowing this man, this beast. Emmett was kind, gentle, charming and rugged to the ignorant eye. It was so easy for him to fool you. The fateful crossing of paths through the woods may not have been as accidental as you believed. You’d invited the traveler into your grandma’s cottage, given him a place to rest which turned into a new residence for him. All he practically had to do was chop the firewood to keep the cottage warm at night. Together, you both assisted your aging grandma and her declining health.

Emmett was captivating to your innocent eyes. His beard was as thick as badger fur, it turned gray around the bottom of his jaw. The dark brunette strands of hair parted towards his right. He spoke almost in hush tones a lot, but his tone was deep and masculine. He was a tad shorter than the average man in your village. But his alluring blue eyes caught your attention from the beginning, they were gentle and almost sparkled.

A wolf in disguise indeed. Every stare he had given you, was not genuine but sinister. The nights you’d wake up to a figure in the shadows, it was always him, not a dream. The internal need for him to help you, protect you, watch over you constantly would be your ruining. You had let touch you, hold you, kiss you. The beast had tricked you into loving him, to the point where he almost corrupted you.

The night before, shortly after you had shut down his animalistic urges to deflower you, he left in a frustrated manner. Emmett’s chest heaved like a wild creature and grumbles sounded like growls. You tried to stay awake for him, but the late hours of the night grew heavy on your eyes. Until later, he abruptly stumbled into the cottage, in complete agony. His firm body was only covered in sweat and blood as he cried out. A bullet wound in his bare left thigh.

There was no time or thought to question anything, his naked state went unfocused as you were forced to pull the bullet out of him. It took an eternity to draw it out. The silver bullet shined as you washed the blood off of it. He had gone for a swim in the lake, as he claimed, on this freezing night teasing the upcoming winter season. They must have been hunters and mistaken him for an animal. That or they were monsters playing twisted games. Emmett seemed so determined and angered on the matter that you wouldn’t dare to have another opinion. You were like a fish with how easily you bit the bait.

The morning of, Emmett’s face was covered in sweat, eyes flashing red as he whined in despair. He needed a doctor, medicine, anything better than your amending. Even though he was heavily opposed to it, you hurried through the woods in your red cloak. Your grandma assumed she’d take care of him until you’d return.

The clouds rumbled over you, you could smell the rain brew in the sky. But immediately as you entered the village, a townsman warned you, “beware miss! A werewolf is lurking in the woods!”

“A werewolf?” you gasped, fear flashing over your eyes.

“Yes, they shot it in its leg last night, but the beast got away” he huffed out in annoyance.

“Shot it… with what?” you dared to ask.

Your heart pounded against your bones, blood streamed through your veins as you found it hard to breathe. Time seemed to slow down, you felt the man stare you dead in the eye.

“A silver bullet” he answered blankly.

The words dragged out through your mind, you gasped silently as a million thoughts ran through your mind. The instant thought was to cry wolf, but the words were too risky to claim. You had left your grandmother with the beast, you needed to save her, a village of hunters would do no such thing, she was currently a lamb awaiting the slaughter.

You had raced all the way back from the village, the rain spitting onto your skin. Your breathing was heavy, filled with distraught and angst. The forest was shaking around you, you heard a school of birds flatter around you, the dark clouds began to clash with one another. You screamed out in pain, your legs were starting to feel like jelly, but you couldn’t stop now.

As you ran through the door, your adrenaline charged through, but you froze in your footsteps. The floor had a trail of red, your body trembled as you called out her name. But there was pure silence in the cottage. The door was rested over, you dared to push it open.

Throughout the chaos of it all, the walls were painted red, the room stenched of copper, pieces of your grandma splattered across the room, the walls were clawed into, furniture ripped apart. You wailed out, eyes shot in every direction before you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Grandma!” you shrieked, your eyes pouring out hot tears as you shuddered.

Time froze.

No, no, this was all a horrible nightmare, you needed to wake up. These thoughts of yours were crazy, there was no possibility, werewolves haven’t wandered these woods in decades years.

But as you stood frozen for longer, the more it made sense. The more the fear dawned over you, you had led a werewolf into your grandma’s home, and left her alone with the beast.

Your body felt completely numb, your mind raced with every negative emotion daggering into you repetitively. You stumbled out of the room and shrieked when you bumped into a firm figure behind you, your body flung around.

It took you a moment to even realize his appearance. His hairy chest could have almost been mistaken for a shirt through your blurred vision. However, it was the large member that hung freely that switched the gears on in the inside of your head. Emmett stood completely naked in front of you, shamelessly at the matter, however his expression was full of despair and guilt. The limp in his leg was gone, the wound vanished. His skin had marks of blood everywhere.

“I’m sorry… I- I didn’t mean to… I really tried not to! I didn’t want to hurt her” Emmett stuttered out, his mind completely blurred with a range of emotions as if he was in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Emmett” you choked out, noticing the trickle of blood over his lips.

“I couldn’t control myself… She was dying sweetheart, it was a mercy kill! I needed to feed in order to heal” Emmett poorly explained, he gripped onto the slither of hope that you’d understate.

It was true, she was dying. He could smell the blood from her handkerchief and hear it in her hoarse voice. But you were too naive to look with your open eyes. The smell was sickening, the killing a thousand times worse. But Emmett was desperate, he was dancing with death laying in that bed.

Everything was bewildering your timid mind, your heart pounded against your chest, your throat closed up, you couldn’t breathe. Your blurred vision was darting between Emmett and the massacre on your grandma’s bed. When he took a step closer to you, you leaped back instinctively.

“Emmett, you’re scaring me!” you shrieked.

The tone of your dismay ached at Emmett’s heart, he blinked hard, hoping that it would help relieve his tormented thoughts. With his hands raised up in surrender, he continued to slowly step towards you, your hands felt around the walls and pieces of furniture around you, too afraid that if you looked away from him, he’d pounce at the opportunity.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll never hurt you” Emmett promised, his voice stern and determined. His jaw locked as he watched your fingertips search for a weapon.

As your hand wrapped around a candle stick, Emmett snarled and pounced at you, you yelped and swung the metal object at him. It hit his shoulder but did no damage, his large hand smacked the object to the ground, Emmett effortlessly pinned you against the wall. Your body thrashed, squirmed and turned under his grip, his nostrils flared in annoyance. When Emmett brought his lips closer to yours, you bit the air in warning.

“Get off of me!” you screamed, but your tone was weak and broken.

“Calm down little one!” Emmett tutted harshly.

His hand wrapped underneath your jaw as he pointed your chin towards him, you whimpered out as the tightness. His blue eyes were narrowed, he looked down at you as if you were a child mid tantrum over nothing.

“Get off me! You’re a disgusting monster!” you screamed, tears coated your red cheeks.

Emmett scoffed at your words, his mouth pressed to your ear, the wetness of his beard made you cringe and gag slightly. Emmett’s body shivered lightly as he inhaled your scent. His animalistic urges crawled their way out, despite how badly he tried to keep it all chained up.

“Don’t blame me! You said it yourself, she was stubborn to the bone. If she had any common sense she’d listen to you and be healthy and alive!” Emmett insulted, his words hissing like a boiled kettle.

You whined out, but it was pointless, his hold held you down like iron. The pounding sound of your racing heartbeat ran down his ear drums. It made him feel pity towards you, his stern expression softened. The way he pressed his lips to your sweating forehead was sweet, but you didn’t see it that way.

“Don’t worry… It was quick, she didn’t even have a second to scream” Emmett comforted, his breathing rugged, a weak smile on his lips.

You blubbered out, his words hurt you. This wasn’t real, this felt impossible. How could you be so naive, you helped the enemy, you killed your grandmother.

Emmett’s slippery tongue ran up your cheek, he moaned at the taste of your tears. You squirmed every time he kissed or licked your flustered skin, but he ignored your protesting behavior. His rough hands slowly dropped to your waist, he squeezed the skin around your hips.

“Your scent has been torturing me for weeks before we met. I’ve traveled so far for you, my heart longs for you little one…” Emmett admitted proudly, his lips gently kissed yours.

“W-what?” you whimpered out, complete utter shock painted on you.

Emmett had known you were his before he met you. One evening, your scent lingered in his senses, he couldn’t block out the aura even if he wanted to. That night, he packed a small gathering of belongings and searched for you. He had many sleepless nights, agonizing moments of craving you underneath him. When he stumbled upon your grandma’s cottage, he knew he was close. So, so close to you. He waited nearby for days for you to come to him.

Other werewolves would rut their mate on the spot and drag them back home if need be. But Emmett was different, he wanted to do this right, wanted your love to grow and not be forced down your throat. It took a lot of restraint, but Emmett was certain on making you fall for him.

“You’re mine now” Emmett flared his teeth. “Don’t be upset, it’ll turn out all the better for us” he assured, his rough hand felt soft against your skin.

Without another second to spare, Emmett crashed his lips back onto yours, his tongue darted out and slipped inside your mouth. Your body turned stiff as he practically ate your mouth, his teeth nibbled on your skin whilst his hands ran up and down your curves. He untied your cloak and let it slip to the ground.

“I need you so badly, please?” Emmett almost whimpered pathetically, his eyes two massive pools of desire and need.

You mewled out, lips wobbling and skin trembling, you knew what he meant. Not to mention his throbbing length that poked against your thigh teased you. You dared to look down at it, you squeaked and squeezed your eyes shut. Emmett sighed dramatically and stroked himself.

“Hey, it’s alright. It won’t bite you, here look” Emmett comforted before he tugged your hand to his hairy length.

You gasped out as your fingers wrapped around his thick size, your eyes snapped onto him, glossy with tears. Emmett smiled at you softly, reassuringly. Slowly, he guided your hand to stroke him, all while his free hand scrunched your dress up.

The way his hand rubbed over your cunt underneath your panties made your stomach turn. Emmett’s eyes rolled back at the glistering sensation of your pussy. So fucking wet for him, you needed him just as badly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together in defense, but his fingers quickly pushed into your tight entrance.

“Oww” you hissed.

“It’s okay little one, only hurts temporarily” Emmett assured through a huff.

Reactively, you squeezed his shaft, resulting in Emmett groaning in pleasure. Before you knew it, Emmett stripped you bare, shredding the fabric to pieces. you whimpered and trembled before him, but dared not to poke the wolf. Emmett grumbled out, the animal inside of him demanded to pounce on top of you, to devour you like a lamb. But he needed to be careful, you were timid, you deserved to be treated with care.

Your arms covered your privates, Emmett slowly closed the distance and repositioned your arms to your sides. As he tilted your chin up, you blinked slowly, your tears spilled out. One hand caressed your breasts, his fingertips rolled over your hardened nipples whilst the other returned to your dripping core. You shivered against him as he played with your sensitive nerves. Your body betrayed you, it felt good, too good. The sparks of pain would be splashed away with a bucket of pleasure. Almost naturally, your body curved against his as his beard tickled your face.

Quickly, you're taken down to the wooden ground, Emmett straddled you as he kissed you gently. He took your breasts into his large rough hands as he wriggled his hips against yours. It went unsaid with Emmett lining his cock up with your entrance, you gulped as his tip teased your entrance.

Emmett kissed you passionately as he thrusted his hips towards yours. You yelped against him, your arms latched around his firm back as his cock pushed its way forcefully inside of you. Emmett heaved out, his shaft halfway in as you clenched his size still. Your words came out jumbled, you just wanted him to stop, but he still tried to inch himself in further at every moment. To comfort you, Emmett rubbed your flustered cheeks.

“Breathe little one, I’m not going to rip you in half” Emmett chuckled whilst lifting your hips up into the air.

You whined out, but listened to his command, your breathing was rough at first, but gradually grew more softer. Following after you, Emmett pushed himself in further, his hands kept your hips up as he kissed you in praise. His hips snapped in and out, his balls smacked against your sensitive skin. With every thrust, Emmett reached your sweet spot, you moaned out unwillingly. His tip teased you, you felt your abdominal tighten, your eyes fluttered back at the rapidly growing bundle of pleasure.

“Doing so good little one” Emmett praised, his beard prickling your chin.

As you looked him in the eyes, your heart betrayed you. He was still so beautiful. His features were soft and warming, you felt your heart flutter for a quick second. An inner belief that he’d always protect you flashed before your eyes. Your hand raised to his cheek, even though you trembled, you attempted to caress his skin. But the remembrance of everything fell back into place and your hand retreated. Emmett huffed out, most likely in annoyance. His lips latched onto your neck as he pistoned into you.

Shortly after, you felt your eyes roll backwards. Unexpectedly on your behalf, your orgasm crashed over you. Your velvet walls squeezed onto Emmett’s cock for dear life, Emmett grunted out, his eyes twitched as he felt his member beg for release. Your sweet piercing moans were angelic. His breathing grew heavier, eyes turned a shade darker, his forearms rested besides your head as he continued to ram into you.

He could feel his shaft pulsate, demanding to claim you completely. It felt like the need for oxygen, if Emmett didn’t mark you as his now, he’d think he would die.

“Fuck, I need, I need to rut in you sweetheart, I can’t help myself, I need to mark you as mine” Emmett admitted, his words stiff as he was so distracted with fucking you senselessly.

“What do you mean?” you cried out, unable to catch your breath.

But Emmett ignored you, he nibbled your soft skin. Really, Emmett should be grabbing something or anything to soften your body, oh fuck it, you can just lay on his chest. Swiftly, Emmett flipped you over, his cock buried completely inside of you. You mewled out at the throbbing sensation in your slippery walls.

“Emmett! What are you-”

Now, your parents never went over the details on when a woman marries her husband, however this didn’t feel normal. His cock was expanding inside of you, you cried out, it felt like pure agony. This was supernatural, you were certain it would be the death of you. You body fell limp on him as his shaft almost doubled in size. Even though you were gasping in pain, Emmett was exhaling in sexual relief. His hands brushed your hair whilst he laid comfortably onto the wooden planks. Your face pressed besides his as you heaved out. The entirety of your lower body was on fire, every inch you moved felt torturous.

A wave of possessiveness and ownership crashed over Emmett. “You’re mine, alright?” Emmett spoke firmly, his head tilted towards yours. You laid silently, sight pointed away from him. So he repositioned your head for you to look him in. the eye. “Don’t try to run from me… I’ll fucking rip apart anyone who gets in my way” he threatened before returning to his comforting nature by caressing your bare skin.

Your body shivered, he saw your red cloak and reached over for it. The fabric covered your body as Emmett held you tightly and fell into a bliss of relaxation.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #cillian murphy kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #werewolf #blood #emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader #a quiet place part ii

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months ago

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can i get a scarlet/violet gang x ghost trainer reader who lets their ghost types possess them for pranks ?

This took a minute to think about until mochi mayhem dropped--then I got ideas haha

...........

During the events of Mochi Mayhem...you seemed remarkably unfazed by Pecharunt's "curse" spreading throughout the village, finding it more amusing than frightening.

And it's because you were no stranger to being possessed yourself.

Your first experience occurred after a Spiritomb's soul got separated and found you as a temporary host while you were exploring some ruins in Paldea (with your poor Fuecoco at the time being terrified for you).

Fortunately it wasn't an aggressive one, just a scared lonely spirit that was piloting your body around until it was reunited with the other 107 souls of that Spiritomb....which turned out to be a shiny!

In a show of gratitude, it decided to join your team--and soon you found your true calling as a ghost type trainer.

So you've picked up other ghosts throughout your journeys in Paldea, Kitakami, and BB Academy.

At some point you trusted your main team enough to allow them to possess your body.

Initially, they only did if they believed it was necessary (ie saving you from a fall or sudden Pokémon attack).

But then you decide to let them do so for pranks and such--mainly reserving those for whoever bothered your friends, while other times your friends are the hapless victims.

Exhibit A: When a BB Academy student is harassing Kieran over how he used to act, you see him getting upset and have one of your Shiny Spiritomb's souls possess you, enabling you to creep up and stare at the bully--all behind his back without him ever noticing you.

He's confused when they suddenly look terrified and run away....and then he slowly turns around, screaming a bit upon seeing your face in the likeness of a Spiritomb (like in that one episode of Journeys where Ash gets possessed by one).

You feel bad, especially after the soul leaves your body, and you promise that you'll never do that again.

Although he is grateful you saved him from that intense moment.

Exhibit B: You're hanging out with Penny at your house, watching her play some horror game on your console.

Your Gengar gets the mischievous idea to turn the lights off and possess you, creating a creepy atmosphere all around the house, making your friend paranoid of whether the sounds were coming from the game or elsewhere.

In hindsight, it sounds hilarious..but you forgot Penny doesn't fw horror movie tropes like that.

As she commands Umbreon to attack you out of pure instinct-

Only to see you and Gengar get forcibly separated and hit the ground hard.

Knock Off was no joke.

She apologizes but is a bit annoyed bc she couldn't save her progress thanks to your "prank".

Exhibit C: While Arven is giving Nemona, Penny, Kieran, and Carmine lessons on the art of sandwich crafting, you stroll over with some purple mochi, offering it as a dessert.

Obviously they decline, seeing Pecharunt literally hovering beside you and wondering if you already forgot what happened.....and are horrified when you shrug and eat one, your eyes turning purple.

Yet before anyone can fully freak out, you just laugh and start talking normally.

To make a long story short, you and the mythical 'mon came to an agreement that you'll eat the mochi it provides as long as it doesn't make you do anything harmful (like battling) or anything ridiculous (like dancing and saying "mochi" nonstop) while possessing you.

It's still mischievous at heart, of course. You'll allow it to have a little bit of fun considering its troubling past.

Exhibit D: Your Skeledirge was the first 'mon you used the Synchro Machine on after arriving to BB Academy, walking around and battling wild Pokémon in the terarium for a few good hours.

This "reverse possession", however, left some adverse effects on you even after desynchronizing...as for several days you developed a habit for singing, could taste smoke in your breath, and even your partner's little fire bird companion decided that it wanted to nestle atop your head.

You realize what a funny prank this could be.

So you pull up to the cafeteria to the "date" Drayton invited you to and freak out the rest of the Elite Four (except for Crispin who immediately realizes you own a Skeledirge and thinks you're awesome).

That also makes for a rather...awkward reunion with Kieran who thinks you've seriously gone off the deep end, and you drop the act right away.

But he's too caught up in the idea of battling you and winning to care about why tf you're possessed rn.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon arven #pokemon penny #pokemon kieran #pokemon nemona #pokemon carmine #spiritomb #pecharunt #gengar #skeledirge #headcanons

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throneofsapphics · 10 months ago

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Leave a comment if you enjoy ! :)

"If you stare any longer , you may actually burn the image of them into your brain." Nami teased. She bumped the swordsman with her elbow , only then drawing his attention to her presence. "

Do you plan on making a move or were you hoping to intimidate her into a relationship?"

Nami takes a seat at the table next to the pirate who also awaits the start of breakfast. His eyes glance over at her , contemplating if he has any harsh words for the navigator... He has half a mind to tell her to mind her own business. Relationship? He scoffs at the notion. The swordsman knew nothing of feelings or love. The taboo, he quickly determined, too ridiculous to even discuss. Zoro only huffs in disagreement then goes back to watching the displays of affection amongst you and the cook.

You were teaching Sanji how to make an authentic breakfast from your village. The cook had begged you for weeks to share your favorite recipe with him. Even offering to spend his own berries gathering all the ingredients.

"Sanji, why do you keep asking me about this?" You inquired on the third week.

" I know you've only been sailing with us for a couple months, but I'm sure you noticed how hard it is to be away from home. " He took the cigarette out his lips then ashed it on the railing before giving you a sincere smile. "I just want to be able to make you something if you get homesick."

It was difficult to decline such a heartfelt request.

"Here. Try it now."

You blew on the spoon hoping to cool it down. When most of the steam subsided , you extended your arm bringing the spoon to Sanji's lips. You steadied his chin with your free hand being sure not to spill the hot liquid on his face. He hummed in pleasure at the taste.

"I think you have outdone even me on this one, my love." Sanji grinned proudly.

"As if I could ever!"

You pushed your hand into Sanji's chest jokingly shoving him away from you. The cook grabs your wrist before you can pull away, drawing you in to plant a tender kiss on your cheek.

"Darling, you truly did an amazing job. Thank you for showing me."

The sight made Zoro's stomach turn. He watched how Sanji's hands fell to your waist when he moved around you to navigate the kitchen. Notice how you didn't shy away from his touch. How you actually offered a sweet smile to him in return . The marimo's body strained at every passing touch you and Sanji exchanged. His taut muscles are too tense to contract any further at the sight of Sanji's lips against your skin. "Why does he get to touch you?" The thought comes as a surprise to him.

"Here Zo , you wanna try ?" You asked.

You turn to him with a new spoonful of jam, blowing on it just as you had done for Sanji . You had taken notice of the swordsman's observations of you . Watch the way his eyes had followed your hands to Sanji's chin when you fed him . Zoro had sat at the table all morning supervising your lesson with the cook. You figured you could offer him that attention too.

"Marimo is too dense to appreciate such elegant flavors. " Sanji responds before Zoro has an opportunity to.

"Fuck you! It's only your shit cooking I don't appreciate!"

While the boys bicker you walk over to the table spoon in hand. Sanji had hurled another insult at the ex bounty hunter , but the delicate feeling of your fingers wrapping around his chin stopped any words Zoro may have had in return. There was a small pause where his eyes lingered on yours . Searching for something . Malice? Contempt? You didn't know. But When he found what he was looking for , or lack thereof , his lips parted.

"Is it good? Do you like it?" You asked using your thumb to wipe away the excess from the side of his mouth.

"Yeah..." His gaze shifts away from you. "Way better than the cooks."

You giggled at his words, allowing yourself to wallow in the heat that filled your chest at his praise. Amused at the small smirk that laid on his lips once he had gotten what he wanted. Your attention. You bend to bring your mouth to his ear.

"Silly swordsman, I have enough attention for the both of you." You whispered .

"I- that's not-"

The words trip and stumble out his mouth never once finding their feet. You could see the sweat begging to bead on Zoro's brow as his eyes shifted about in panic, looking for anything coherent to mumble back. The stoic pirate reduced to a fumbling teenager at your words. When he can come up with nothing, he decides to stop speaking. Annoyed, he crosses his arms against his chest and turns his head to face the navigator. He is met with the knowing grin on her face.

Your eyes scanned the room while your fingers aimlessly tapped against the sake bottle. You sat at the bar top alone , waiting for the rest of your crew-mates to join you . You should have known better than to think any of them would be on time. Sticking to the plan was not something the Strawhats were particularly versed in. Especially when they were all left to their own devices on a new island. You sigh, dragging your free hand down your face , attempting not to ruin your makeup in the process. It was beginning to get difficult to wait. The eyes of the pirate's in the bar watched you hungrily, and you feared one may try to satiate their appetite. Eyes still roaming the room, you hoped to see a familiar face.

"A pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be sitting all alone in a packed bar. " A man announces.

It's their captain. His arm is extended, hand out offering you a beer as he approaches. You smile, kindly declining. You hold up your own bottle, shaking it slightly to indicate its fullness as means of justification . The man nodded in understanding, but didn't leave. In fact he took the prolonged silence as an invitation to take a seat alongside you.

"Are you waiting on somebody?"

He casually rests his hand on your thigh as though he has already claimed you . You shift in your seat, turning so your legs would fall beneath the bar top. You're hoping the man would sense your discomfort at his proximity. His hand does not move. Instead his smile grows wider. Taking your movement as the green light to slowly drag his hand up toward your waist.

"My boyfriend is meeting me."

The lie slips past your lips with ease at the sudden rush of adrenaline. You go to swat the man's hands from you . The previous statement should be enough for him to understand you are not his to claim . The smile he wears drops. His hand doesn't move. Despite your physical protest. Your breath hitches in your throat at the growing realization of the situation you're in.

"He shouldn't have left you here all alone." The man's voice isn't above a whisper

His warning is gone just as quickly as it came , but your fear still lingers in the air. Your eyes bounce wryly from the door to the pirate who continued to creep into your space. "They're coming!" Your mind loops the words as if they were an incantation.

Then, as if to answer your fervent prayers, the bar door is shoved open. Luffy is the first of your crew to enter, his first mate trails behind him. You can see Zoro searching for you in the crowd, as the rest of the Strawhats messily file in after him. It doesn't take long for his eyes to find yours.

You don't have to say a word . The swordsman can sense your discomfort from where he stood. He saw the fear that engulfed the glimmer that resides in your eyes. He watched how you kept your arms held close to your body, afraid the man would reach for you. Notice how rigidly you cross your legs over one another . Then he sees the man's hand rubbing up and down your thigh. The swordsman starts making his way over to you, hand on the hilt of Shusui.

Zoro drew his sword placing the blade at the base of the man's wrist. The music in the bar stopped. The patrons are silent. Everybody's eyes fall on the three of you. Most filled with fear, your friends with confusion. But all watch the same as the conflict unfolds.

"Move your hand, before I slice it off."

There is a brief pause before the man laughs. A genuine belly hugging laugh at Zoro's imminent threat. Moments later the other men join in, egging their captain on.

"Is this the boyfriend you were talking about?"' The man asks, ignoring the ex bounty hunter. His eyes don't leave your body. Neither does his hand. "You almost got your lady in a lot of trouble , leaving her all alone in a bar like this."

Zoro's scowl deepens at the pirate's words. "Boyfriend? You had told the man he was your boyfriend?" The pieces slowly fall into place as the swordsman assesses the scene surrounding you. Alone, you sat in a bar full of pirates. The only other women present are staff of the small business. Zoro's eyes glance over at yours. His grip tightens around the hilt at the sight of your fearful expression. You had told the pirate he was boyfriend. Zoro finally understands.

"What kind of man would treat his girlfriend that way?"

"What kind of man uses his power to strong arm women? " The swordsman responds.

The question coals in the raging fire that was already roaring in the ex bounty hunter. The pirate had thought you were his, yet touched you anyway. Decided you were his to claim. To conquer. Then Justified his actions using the lack of Zoro's presence as an excuse. As if his absence was reason enough to encroach your space, and have you trembling in fear. Now the pirate captain had the audacity to question the type of man he was. It enrages Zoro.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"Strong arm?" The captain stifles another laugh. His eyes finally look over to meet the swordsman. "We would've handled princess here real gentle."

The pirate clenches his fingers around you then goes to inch his hand further up your thigh. Zoro has seen enough. There is a sharp yelp preceding the sound of him sheathing his weapon. Your harasser's hand falls to the floor beneath your feet. Blood spews from his severed arm. You want to scream, but a sharp gasp falls from your lips instead. Almost instinctively Zoro's hand reaches out to grasp yours at the reaction.

You had seen Zoro cut down many men before, but being inches away from his blade as he does so was an entirely different experience. As you felt the warmth of the pirate's blood seeping into your dress, and wiped at the splatters of blood that littered your skin, you couldn't help but be a bit awestruck at his strength.

The captain's crew members rush to his aid as his screams continue. Zoro lets you squeeze his hand while you cautiously hop down from the bar stool, trying your best not to slip on the blood that covered the floor. He nudges you along to follow him. The only precursor you receive before the two of you walk into the single stalled bathroom at the back of the bar.

The small room didn't allot the two of you much personal space. If anything it forced you two into dangerously close proximity. As you stood in front of the sink , back to the mirror, you could feel Zoro's knees lightly brush yours when he reached to grab the paper towel off the roll. He bundles it up then brings it to your cheek. You take note of the small hesitation he makes before his hand lands on your chin . He licks the wad before swiping away at your cheek. A poor attempt to rid you of the scumbag's blood.

"I'm sorry." The words feel unfamiliar as they fall from the swordsman's mouth.

Your eyebrows raise to your temples. In all the months you had been sailing with the Strawhats , you have never heard Zoro apologize. You wonder what made this occasion so different. the slight widening of your eyes gives way to your surprise. Zoro notices and continues.

"I should have been on time."

"Don't be sorry Zoro. You saved me, thank you."

You bring your hand up to rest over his before smiling up at him. The look in your eyes, the one he had seen you give to Sanji so many times, was finally from his doing. His heart raced at your expression. He felt himself begin to sweat as the warmth of your stare spread across his skin. Zoro couldn't understand the physical response from his body. Part of him wanted to run. To flee the threat that seemed to be your piercing gaze. But a bigger part of him wanted to bask in its glow, doing anything imaginable to keep the sun out just a little while longer.

"Although " You giggle at the silly hunch. "I would have thought it would be Sanji to save me."

Your words bring raging storm clouds that wash Zoro's warmth away. He rolls his eyes. As though the notion was too implausible to even be considered. He brings the paper towel back to your cheek then speaks.

"The dumbass cook can barely save himself !"

"Is the moss head jealous?" You tease. " I'm happy it was you."

A loud bang on the flimsy wooden door interrupts the swordsman before he can respond. Seconds later it flings open, shaking on its creaky hinges. The sniper stands on the other side wide eyed.

"It's time to go!"

When you reunite with your crew there really is no need to explain the urgency of the situation. The pirate captain laid unconscious on the ground with a makeshift tourniquet wrapped around his arm. Apparently the crew had not taken kindly to Zoro's treatment of their captain, and seemed to have every intention of taking it out on the rest of the crew.

"C'mon guys there is surely no reason to make this much fuss over one hand." Brooke had tried to reason, his efforts in vain. The pirate crew wanted a fight.

"You pieces of shit!" Sanji swept his leg, thrashing a considerable number of men through the bar's singular window. "How dare he have the audacity to treat my darling , sweet love with such disrespect. And now you stand here trying to avenge your captain's actions... I won't allow it to go unpunished."

Sanji had enough fury in his heart to take on the entirety of the scumbag's lackeys. A fight was the only way to alleviate the emotions that were sure to get the better of him. In under three moves the cook had the no named pirate crew looking just as bad as their captain. The situation was settled.

"So the swordsman saves the day." Sanji says dejectedly as he brings the glass to his lips to take a drink. "At least you're okay."

You can't help the giddy smile that appears on your face at his mention. A bitter side effect of the alcohol. The navigator had suggested none of you go home empty handed after the chaos that ensued at the bar. Insinuated you had deserved a treat after all your troubles. There were no objections. At first you can only giggle at the cook's words. Butterfly's bloom in your chest when you think about the swordsman's delicate touch against your skin just moments after cutting a man down... for you. A slight chills crawls down your spine. You take a significant swig from the whiskey bottle in your hand hoping the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat may warm you up.

"He's an interesting man , Uh?" You pause to glance towards the deck. "Zoro."

"That's one word."

Sanji's curly brows raise at your question. He turns to look at you, but you don't meet his gaze. You're looking out at the party . The cook watches your eyes while they search and scatter. He is trying to assess their intent, and then it dawns on him. You were looking for him. The Swordsman.

"You wouldn't happen to have a crush on mosshead would you?"

Your eyes dart back to Sanji , then away to look at the sea. Crush wasn't nearly a strong enough word to describe how you felt about Roronoa Zoro. Sometimes you would switch night watches with Nami just for the opportunity to watch the swordsman train in the crows nest. Although most of the time had been spent in silence , there was still something special about being in his presence. But Zoro's stoicism made it difficult to discern his feelings. You had thought him so unconcerned with your presence for so long that you had resorted to blatant teases and flirting with him in the first place. If only to fluster him. You craved acknowledgment from Zoro, in the way your lungs craved oxygen. desperately.

"I have been obsessed with the swordsman since the day Luffy dragged me onto the sunny... "

"Obsessed uh?"

Sanji lets out a genuine laugh at the words. Amused by the way the alcohol loosens your tongue. He had always taken notice of your affinity toward Zoro. Witnessed how differently you spoke to him than the others. Your crewmates had easily labeled you a flirt, but the way you riled Zoro had been different than the jokingly stated endearments you passed the rest of them.

Sanji glances around you to spot the swordsman on the deck. As he suspects the green haired pirate is surveilling them. When their eyes meet Zoro turns his head to stare at the antics of their captain, feigning interest. "If the dumbass mosshead had even the slightest ounce of emotional intelligence the two of you would be happy now." Sanji is surprised when the thought bumps into his head.

"Well, darling" Sanji wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you into him. You rest your head on his chest, then he continues to speak. "I have half a mind to say marimo likes you too."

The swordsman lays against the mast , feet crossed in front of him downing his third bottle of the night. He doesn't understand his anger at your actions; This scalding feeling that envelops him at the way you rest your head on Sanji's chest encourages him to drink more. He tries to dismiss his thoughts, convince himself that he doesn't care, but they bombard him like a buster call.

"Why did the cook get to hold you?" "He was the one who saved you. Why are you batting your eyelashes at Sanji and not him ?" "What else does he have to do to keep your attention?" "What about the shit cook was so much better than him?"

Zoro sees you part from the cook, and watches as you trek back to the party. He assumes you'll rejoin Nami and Robin, considering the tipsy women are calling your name so fervently. His brows raise when you pass them giving a placating wave. You're making your way over to him.

"Don't tell me you're already done drinking Zoro. I hadn't known you to be such a lightweight." You jest, pointing over to the 3 empty bottles that sat alongside him.

Zoro smirks before reaching for the half empty bottle that was clutched in your fingers. He wraps his large hand around yours then guides you to bring the bottle to his lips so he can take a drink. When he is done he wipes the excess from his lips using the back of his hand.

"You done smiling at the cook?"

He releases his hold on you then turns his head so your eyes won't meet his. He's staring at the sea as if it will answer his question. You mock a gasp bringing your free hand to your chest. Then you giggle.

"Roronoa! You're so jealous."

"No I'm not!"

You bring your hand to Zoro's cheek guiding his eyes back to yours. You offer him a sly smirk before you bend at the waist to meet his face. You're so close Zoro can feel your breath on his cheeks.

"Yes you are mossy. So spoiled, wanting my attention all to yourself. It's okay, I'm here now."

Zoro jerks his chin away from your grasp. His face scrunches into a frown. It's difficult for him to discern if it's anger, or embarrassment that's swelling inside him. The words fall from his lips before he has a chance to assess them.

"I'm not jealous!... I don't even know what the shitty cook sees in you."

Zoro wishes he could snatch the words back before they hit your ears. Hates how you wince at what he says. The way your smile dropped while you ruminated on his words. There is no more sunshine in your tear pooled eyes, only storm clouds. He knows it before the first tear has fallen. He's gone too far. You storm away from him.

"You made her cry." Sanji states as he pulls the cigarette for his lips. He puffs the smoke out then turns to Mosshead for an answer.

Zoro is in the crow's nest hiding from the peering eyes of his crewmates. Surely the cook hadn't been the only one to notice your early departure from the party only moments after the conversation you two had. The others were bound to have questions of their own soon. None of which Zoro cared to answer.

"I didn't mean to." Is all the swordsman can muster. The image of your broken hearted eyes are seared into his brain. Why did he say that? He wants to bang his head against the wall at the thought. Sanji rolls his eyes at the excuse. Not assuaged by the swordsman's words. Intent had no significance in Sanji's mind, all that mattered was that he was the source of your tears.

"What did you say to her?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Bullshit."

Zoro walked toward the dumbbells that laid on the floor . He decides lifting is a better option than repeating his misgivings. He had no intention of admitting to the cook that he himself had been the source of Zoro's rage.

"Why do you care?" Zoro snaps back . He's deflecting.

"Because I care about her. She's cried herself to sleep and it's your fault!"

"If you care so much you fix it!"

"I wish I could marimo, I would love nothing more than to take that darling lady away from you."

Zoro scrunched his face into yet another frown. From him ? Zoro had never believed you his to begin with . Had that been the case he would've cut the chef down ages ago for his fleeting touches and stares.

"Take her, I don't care."

At this the cook let out a loud laugh that threatened to escape the confines of the crow's nest. He genuinely couldn't believe the swordsman could be so oblivious of his own feelings. When Sanji catches his breath, he can't help his devilish smile.

"... So you wouldn't mind if I climb into her bed tonight? You know she asked me."

Zoro's jaw clenches. He lowers the dumb bells away from his chest then drops them to the floor. Now his eyes meet the cook. Sanji takes it as an invitation to continue.

"I think she wanted the comfort after y'all's ... run in."

More fuel is added to Zoro's already racing thoughts. This time, he could not convince himself he was unbothered. Couldn't find a deep place to push the discomfort. The cook always got the best parts of you. Parts the swordsman so desperately wanted to save for himself. Zoro was sick of it.

"Don't touch her."

A sharp chuckle falls from Sanji's lips at the irony. Zoro couldn't admit to how he feels about you, but is standing there contemplating cutting him down at the mere thought of letting him into your bed. How could marimo be so stupid?

"Yeah mosshead, You don't care about her at all." Sanji mocked.

"You don't know what you're talking about?" Zoro scoffs.

What does the shitty cook know of his feelings, when he himself could not sort them out.

Sanji can only shake his head in disappointment. He brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose to pinch it slightly before letting out a dismissive sigh. Oh how'd he wished to take your mind away from the swordsman. Wished it was he who was the object of your affections, but the cook knew you would never be obsessed with him in the same way you were marimo. As painful as that may be.

"Zoro, if you lose the girl you're in love with because you're too stupid to figure out your feelings..." He takes a drag from his cigarette "You're a bigger dumbass than I thought."

"Why do you give a shit if things work out?t" Zoro snarls. He wonders why Sanji has suddenly taken his feelings into so much consideration.

"Honestly mossy I don't. You don't deserve her. but she loves you and she deserves to be happy. You'll make her happy. That's all I really want... "

Sanji set the plate down on the vanity. He peers over at you wrapped in the thick comforter. You had allowed it to engulf you, face and all. You had not moved since he had come to see you last. That was at breakfast. Still you faced the wall with your back to him. There is a slight hesitation in his step before he walks further into the room.

"You sure everything is okay?" He inquires for the second time.

"I'm fine Sanji. Really." You attempt to sound reassuring.

The cook nods in understanding. He is not convinced , but will not ask for a third time . Instead he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. A sigh of relief leaves your lips. You didn't want to tell Sanji the truth. That you were too embarrassed to face the swordsman. That his rejection looped continuously through your mind, making it impossible to sleep. Had Zoro really meant what he said ? Were you just making a fool of yourself this whole time? The thought makes you shudder.

Sanji pushes his way through the door to enter the kitchen. He is met with the eyes of his crewmates who waited for him at the table in anticipation . He shakes his head. Nami and Robin release their sighs of disappointment .

"I wonder why she won't join us." Robin inquires.

"First breakfast, now lunch... She must really be feeling bad." Nami continues.

"I can go check on her... " Luffy chimes in "maybe she'll tell me what's wrong."

Luffy goes to grab a handful of the chopped fruit Sanji had placed on the table . Sanji swats his captain's hands away before sitting another plate down, this time sandwiches. Zoro has now entered the kitchen hearing the tale end of the Strawhat's woes. He feels the way the cooks eye borough into his skull, knowing that they're scowling at him. Zoro doesn't look his way. He knows that it is his fault you've gone missing . He doesn't need the cook to remind him.

"Marimo is going to check on her." Sanji announces.

The room falls quite as eyes are now on the swordsman. Nami cringes in disbelief, shaking her head vigorously.

"I don't think that's a good id-"

"Don't worry, he'll fix it." Sanji ends Nami's sentence before she has the chance to.

His crew eyes him with unsure stares. Zoro had never been one to offer much comfort, even in the most dark of times. They didn't see how he'd be the answer to their troubles. Sanji does not elaborate on his statement. He offers his crew a smile before setting the homemade chips on the table and announcing lunch is ready.

"Sanji , you don't have to keep coming in here every fifteen minutes to check on me. " You say to the sound of knocking at the bedroom door.

You pull the blankets back to face who you thought was the cook. Zoro stood there in his place. His back against the bedroom door like he was still contemplating if he should stay or not. You sit up at the feeling of your heart shooting to your throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"You haven't come out all day." He responds as if that answers your question. When you don't say anything back , he assumes he should continue. "They're worried about you."

Zoro's hand falls to the nape of his neck, he rubs sheepishly then looks down at the floor. You roll your eyes, dissatisfied with his answer. You pull the blankets up to cover your face then turn your back to him.

"Go away Zoro."

It hurts him to hear, although he knows he has no right to be upset. When he heard you didn't show up for breakfast, he'd felt worse than when the words initially fell from his mouth. Truth be told he had hid in the crow's nest as long as he could trying not to run into you this morning . Thought that he was giving you space to breathe without his watchful eye.

"I- I was jealous... of you and the cook."

Zoro pauses waiting for a reaction from you to see if he should keep talking or not. There's an unusual shake of fear in his voice you don't recognize. You sit up to face him once again.

"I was mad and I took it out on you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

This has made two apologies from the ever prideful pirate.

"You hurt my feelings." Your voice is soft , fragile as you respond.

"I know..." The swordsman pushes himself from the door to take a step towards you. "If I could eat the words I would."

You gaze into his eyes for a moment, searching for an ounce of deception. You know you won't find it . If the swordsman had not meant his words, he would not have gone out of his way to say them. But still you look to reassure yourself.

"Zoro I don't understand makes you so angry about my relationship with Sanji?"

"I don't like it when he touches you." The swordsman confesses.

You smirk at his candor. All this over the playful touches the cook had thrown your way. It was almost too sweet to believe you had the swordsman so twisted at the sight of you sharing your affection. You swing your legs so they fall off the edge of the bed. You're staring at him intently. Zoro is nervous under your gaze . You can tell by the way he fiddles with his fingers aimlessly.

"You don't like when Sanji touches me ?" You repeat. You pause to offer the swordsman a chance to take back his words. But he does not renege.

"...I don't like when anyone touches you."

Your giggle is involuntary. The smirk on your lips is now a full blown smile. Despite the pain that had come from it, you couldn't help but love the thought of the swordsman jealous over you. Before you were just joking , but to hear the words from Zoro's mouth himself was truly blissful.

"Roronoa... Do you have a crush on me?"

"Crush on you?" He ponders like it's the first time he's thought about it. "I don't think that's a strong enough word."

"No?"

He shakes his head taking a step toward you . His hand meets your cheek. He is hesitant. Thinks you may pull away from his touch. But the swordsman is pleasantly surprised when you lean into his hand.

"Sanji says I'm in love with you."

Your heart skips at the word. Love. It sounded so sweet coming from Zoro lips. You wondered what you would have to do to hear him say it again.

"Yeah? And what do you think?"

"I think he might be right."

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A/N : I stared at this so long, I might have it memorized at this point lol. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it , but it is a labor of love nonetheless.

{If you would like to be added to my tag list lemme know! I would Love to have you}

#zoro roronoa #one piece #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro #one piece zoro #one piece strawhats #op zoro

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venus-haze · 6 months ago

Text

Power in the Blood (Father Paul Hill x Nun!Reader)

Summary: There’s power in the blood. Father Paul knows this. Soon, you will, too.

Note: Female reader who's only referred to as "Sister," but no other descriptors are used. Also, the newspaper clipping isn't on the wall in this, for obvious reasons. I’ve been working on this fic in one way or another for about a year, but watching The Devils (1971) and Immaculate (2024) earlier this year as well as encouragement from my amazing friend @zaras-really-dreamless finally gave me the push I needed to finish it. Major visual inspiration from this scene in particular. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Major canon divergence. Angst, yearning, and unrequited feelings. Elements of Catholic mysticism. Sexually explicit content which involves dubious consent by way of religious manipulation, members of the clergy engaging in sexual acts, oral sex (f. receiving, but it's related to the stigmata and vampirism), blood play.

In retrospect, Crockett Island was the only place it could have happened. Desolation hung over the remote fishing village like fog in the early mornings, when you’d take your walks before the Monsignor awoke, and you heard the woes of the fishermen as they prepared to sail out for the day—oil spills, restrictive fishing laws, better paying jobs on the mainland but leaving everything they knew behind in exchange. Despite coming from the mainland yourself and otherwise alien to the ways of the dying village, your being a woman of the cloth on the largely Catholic (though predominantly non-practicing) island made the islanders trust you, consider you one of their own a bit more than they otherwise would have as you took on the burden of buoying their spirituality as the Monsignor’s health continued failing, and he could no longer fulfill the task himself.

You’d begged the diocese for help, hardly considered yourself equipped to care for the ailing priest and run a parish, however small, essentially on your own. But for a parish as small as St. Patrick’s, you were all the help the diocese would care to send. The letter you received in response to your detailing all of the things Crockett Island’s parishioners desperately needed boiled down to “wait until the old man kicks it.”

You supposed it was a miracle the diocese even sent you there in the first place. Though most of the islanders took the arrival of a young nun like yourself as a breath of fresh air, Beverly Keane didn’t seem all too pleased to have her self-appointed position as number two at St. Patrick’s knocked down to number three. She seemed to settle down when it became clear you had no interest in engaging in petty politics in a church that barely counted three dozen people for regular Sunday mass attendance.

The island’s social life, small as it was, interested you more. People were more open to receiving you as a friend than as a representative of the church, undoubtedly put off by Beverly Keane’s self-righteous fanaticism that veered into cruelty. You got to know the regular parishioners, like Erin Greene, who’d grown up on the island, left for some time, and returned pregnant yet eager to become a mother to her unborn baby. She taught at the island’s small school with Beverly, who encouraged you to take up teaching there, obviously hoping to bring a religious curriculum to the tax-payer funded public school. You declined.

Besides Erin, and to your chagrin Beverly, who was convinced the two of you were compatriots of some kind despite how often you clashed, you found yourself spending increasing amounts of time with Sheriff Hassan. Despite dutifully filling an essential role in the community, he hardly seemed any closer to gaining acceptance despite a year on Crockett Island.

The day he and Ali moved onto the island, you had a cold, and thus weren’t part of the unofficial welcoming committee. Your head pounded from the sinus pressure when Beverly brought the Monsignor back to the rectory afterward, and you barely heard what she said. You met Sheriff Hassan a few days later, when you were feeling well enough to shop for yourself and the Monsignor for the week. Among your expectations about Hassan Shabazz, his being handsome enough to make your breath hitch for just a moment before introducing yourself wasn’t on the list. But he was understandably weary of you, expecting the same horrendous treatment he undoubtedly received from Beverly.

Over time, he found you were only interested in buying groceries and not in underhandedly converting him or Ali. You were both lonely outsiders to the island and found some solace in regular conversations about the mainland, or observations about the islanders, occasionally broaching the topic of religion, which had a comfortable place in the space you two shared in the general store, sometimes over a cup of coffee he’d brew for you.

You admired him. His dedication to his son, the efficacy with which he performed his thankless job, and the unwavering faith he had in his religion, while yours had long lost its luster since you’d become Monsignor Pruitt’s live-in nurse in all but name.

But the days became your own when the Monsignor made his trip to the Holy Land, ill-advised considering his health. When you voiced your concerns to the parish, your outsider status was paraded through the discussion by Beverly, who insisted you had no way to understand how much the trip meant to the Monsignor, and by extension, every good, practicing Catholic on the island. At the time, to your frustration, she had won.

Besides, even if he were there, you weren’t sure a man on death’s door himself would have been able to give Mildred Gunning Last Rites. Torrential rain pounded against the rectory when you could barely hear the phone ring.

You had picked up with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Sister, it’s—it’s my mom. I think she’s—”

“Sarah, do you want me to come over and see her?”

“Yeah, she’d want that. Just be careful with the rain.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Grabbing a flashlight, you had only half pulled on your raincoat when you hurried outside, in a near sprint to the Gunning house. You almost slipped and fell on the way there, and then you wouldn’t have been any good to anybody, and the last thing Dr. Sarah Gunning needed was to tend to a broken leg while her mother was on her deathbed.

The door was unlocked when you arrived, the house quiet and dark save for a few lamps left on.

“Sarah?” you called out.

She emerged from her mother’s room, eyes red. “I thought I was ready for this a long time ago, but being face-to-face with it…”

“Are you sure this is it?”

“As sure as I can be. She hasn’t been eating. There’s only so much I can do,” Sarah said, her voice breaking in despair. “Sister, I—she’d want you to be here. Even though she didn’t know you very much, I could tell she liked you.”

“Of course,” you whispered, giving her a hug before approaching Mildred’s bedside.

Despite her labored breathing, she managed a kind smile when you took her weathered hand in yours and prayed the Our Father with as steady of a voice as you could manage. Then, you knelt, pulled the rosary from your raincoat pocket, and prayed until your knees ached and you nearly passed out from exhaustion at staying up so late. You almost thought you had dreamed it, the way she went, as peacefully as drifting off to sleep. It was only the cry of her daughter that pierced through your haze, and you struggled to your feet as you allowed Sarah privacy and called Sheriff Hassan over to certify the death, as was necessary for the burial Mildred would have undoubtedly wanted as a Catholic.

When the Sheriff arrived, about fifteen minutes after you called, you’d become acutely aware your nightgown had soaked through in the rain, and pulled your raincoat more closely over your body, ashamed you’d even forgotten such a detail in your haste.

“I should head back now,” you said. “I’m so sorry again, Sarah. You’ll be in my prayers. I’ll contact the diocese first thing in the morning."

She nodded. "Thank you, Sister."

“Do you need a ride back to the church?” Hassan asked. “This shouldn’t take long.”

You smiled, tempted by his offer, the prospect of spending more time alone with him. Instead, you shook your head. “Thank you, Sheriff. I think I can manage.”

Crockett Island was quiet the following day, when Annie’s son Riley arrived home for the first time in over a decade, following his four year prison sentence. You could tell through his polite greeting he had no interest in speaking with you further than his mother’s introductions. Fair enough.

Monsignor Pruitt was supposed to return that evening, but you had been calling the diocese to try to get confirmation that they could send a priest over to perform the funeral mass if needed. As usual, you got answering machines or the run around of being told to call different offices, none of which could apparently help you.

When you returned to the rectory after visiting with Sarah Gunning, you noticed the light on in the distance. Beverly had planned to meet the Monsignor at the ferry and bring him home. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe he survived the trip, both there and back.

“Monsignor, it’s me!” you called out. “How was your trip? I’d love to hear about—” You froze when you came face to face with a priest. A priest who wasn’t the Monsignor. Younger, handsome, absolutely unexpected. “Hello. I–I’m sorry, who are you? Father—”

“I’m Father Paul, Paul Hill,” he said kindly. “The diocese sent me.”

“That was quick. I thought they’d been ignoring my messages.”

“Yes, I’m afraid the Monsignor became ill on his trip, and I’m here until he recovers. I hope you don’t mind, I went ahead and brought my things into what I assumed was his room.”

“Please, make yourself at home.” You hastily made a sign of the cross. “But the Monsignor…I don’t think the islanders could take another loss. I’m so sorry, you come here and your first mass is a funeral.”

“Funeral? For who?”

“Mildred Gunning, an elderly parishioner who had been ill with dementia for a few years, I believe. She passed away two nights ago,” you said. “That’s why I’ve been calling the diocese all day. We need someone to perform the funeral mass.”

His deep, brown eyes widened with all the terror of a deer being chased through the woods. “Are–are you sure?”

“Of course I am. I was there when she passed.”

“Did she suffer?”

“No, it was like she had fallen asleep,” you said softly, watching in wonder as tears fell from his eyes. “Father?”

“I’m sorry, Sister. These things affect me deeply.”

You put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Can I make you coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please,” he said, his voice empty, an almost far away sound to it.

“While that’s brewing, I’ll call Dr. Gunning, Mildred’s daughter, and let her know you’re here. I don’t think she’d want any deviation from the typical funeral rites. Her mother was quite devout.”

“Yes, I know.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What was that?”

“Yes, I–I figured.”

He retreated into the Monsignor’s room. When you brought the coffee to him, he requested you leave it outside the door, which you found odd. Even more strange was having to tell Beverly that she missed the Monsignor’s arrival because he wasn’t arriving in the first place, and the diocese forgot to tell you that he’d become ill on his trip and Father Paul was serving as his replacement until he recovered. You privately figured the assignment would be more permanent, as yours had unexpectedly become.

Mildred Gunning’s funeral was held in St. Patrick’s Church less than a day later. A simple, solemn affair that saw the church nearly packed for the first time outside of Christmas or Easter. Mildred had lived and died on Crockett Island, everyone knew her in one way or another. Father Paul conducted the funeral mass as if mourning the Pope himself, and you were particularly struck by his grief, the way he nearly fell apart while giving the homily.

He fared no better at the wake that followed the funeral mass, held in the community center. Father Paul was utterly disinterested in speaking with any of the parishioners who tried to introduce themselves to him or sought solace and spiritual guidance in his presence. Thus, the burden once again fell on your shoulders, and you almost thought the diocese would have been better off ignoring your calls after all.

You sighed. You couldn’t let your cynicism get the best of you. It’d be entirely inappropriate for Father Paul to treat Mildred’s wake as a social hour. Besides, people with such deep empathy for others, especially someone they’d never met, were rare, as reminded to you by Beverly, who made her way over to you with a plate of cheese and crackers and a slight sneer on her face.

“I suppose it’s nice and all, but it’s not like he knew the woman,” Beverly muttered.

“He needs time to adjust,” you said. “This isn’t the best way to start out his tenure here.”

“Yes, well, let’s just hope he gets his act together soon.”

You could swear the diocese had you on some kind of blacklist, the way your calls to them went unanswered, letters returned with vague instructions and empty assurances. Father Paul had no idea how long they intended for him to stay on Crockett Island or the condition of Monsignor Pruitt.

Your living in the rectory made sense when you were caring for the Monsignor, but with Father Paul fully capable of taking care of himself, you wanted to know if you’d be staying on the island, and if so, if separate arrangements would be made for your own housing. The island was too small, too chatty, for you and Father Paul to be living alone for too long before it was turned into something it wasn’t.

The bitter taste of married life settled on your tongue as you took up most of the responsibilities around the rectory while Father Paul moped . The old man could hardly help with cleaning, and you didn’t want him anywhere near the kitchen, but your new roommate was an able-bodied man who could spare to pick up some slack, couldn’t he?

“I made dinner, if you’re hungry,” you said, emerging from the kitchen and into the living room where he sat on the couch. “Just spaghetti and meatballs. The jar sauce from the store isn’t too bad. I usually add—”

“Red wine and oregano to it. I know.”

“Oh,” you said, taken aback by his statement. “I guess Bev told you. Not much of a secret recipe.”

“You’re pretty young for a nun,” he said, turning to you. “What made you want to give up a normal life for this?”

“It’s my vocation. For as long as I can remember, I knew this was what God called me to do. I never wanted another life.” You sat down next to him, sparing a glance around the room. “This is it for me.”

“Crockett Island?”

You conceded a small smile. “I was hoping for somewhere a little more exciting, but I think there’s a chance for something amazing to happen here.”

He shook his head. “That time’s long passed. Look around you, Sister. People are leaving in droves, and the ones who’ve stayed…it’s just too late.”

“Please, Father, I know this island may seem like it’s dying, and presiding over a funeral as your first mass here doesn’t help that, but the people still need guidance,” you pleaded, taking his hands in yours. You couldn’t contend with the diocese sending you to rot with the rest of the island. It couldn’t be for nothing. “The Monsignor is no longer well enough to fill that need, and I couldn’t do it on my own, but together, I think we can do something great if we try. This might be the island’s last chance to have life breathed into it again.”

“Sister—”

“I agree that Crockett Island is hardly a place anymore, but it’s somewhere to start, isn’t it? We couldn’t have been sent here without a reason.”

He swallowed roughly, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’re right, Sister. I—Thank you.”

You smiled, relief washing over you at his words, at his assurance you wouldn't have to bring revival to Crockett Island on your own.

Following your conversation with Father Paul, his attitude completely shifted. He was friendlier with the parishioners, taking extra time to spend with Leeza, offering to hold Riley’s AA meetings in the community center to save him a trip to the mainland, and, inexplicably, he liked Beverly, who’d changed her mind about Father Paul since the wake and warmed up to him. The only time he wavered was when he visited with Sarah Gunning, still grieving the loss of her mother and considering moving her practice off of the island.

He’d return to the rectory on those evenings quiet, morose, seeking the comfort you selflessly offered him. A warm embrace in which he’d bury his face in the crook of your neck. A hand to hold and squeeze in his own, intertwining his fingers with yours. Teetering on the brink of an intimacy you’d made vows against, you weren’t quite sure how to bring it up to him, not when he needed you, and you, him, to fill the hunger in your heart for a man you knew you could never have.

You allowed the beast to live in you. Fed it. Nurtured it. Cared for it. Guarded it with a shameful protectiveness, shielding it from your regular confessions with Father Paul, in which uttering its name would make it real, and thus ripped away from you and destroyed.

Ash Wednesday and the first week of Lent were resigned to a haze in your memory, hardly able to think of the beginning of the holiest time of the liturgical year without feeling sick. Not after the potluck. You were sure it had been Beverly, Sheriff Hassan was, too. You knew she was cruel, but to harm an animal, something so innocent…You couldn’t stand to be in her presence for long after that, and silently resented Father Paul for keeping her so close. But you supposed everyone had their vices.

Yours came to a head in a dream, one that felt all too real, that you could hardly remember when you awoke apart from burning hands on your skin, lips pressed to yours, you and Sheriff Hassan in throes of passion. You laid in bed with a lump in your throat and aching between your legs. You hadn’t experienced a dream like that in…you couldn’t even remember.

The entire time you sat through mass, you thought you were going to be sick. You couldn’t concentrate on the readings or the homily. Taking the Eucharist felt wrong, and your hand shook when you brought the communion wafer to your lips when Father Paul handed it to you. Finally, when mass ended, and you were sure the church was empty, you approached him with trepidation.

“Father, I have something I need to confess.”

“Would you like to go to the confessional?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to hide behind it. I need to be transparent and held accountable.”

He nodded. The two of you sat in a pew, facing each other as you crossed yourselves.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

“Three days,” you answered.

“What is it, Sister?”

“I’ve been having lustful thoughts, Father, about someone incredibly close to me, who I care deeply for. Instead of asking the Lord to take these feelings from me, I’ve been indulging in them, and last night I—I had a dream about him. A sexual one that I experienced physical pleasure from.” You were in tears, guilt wracking your body as you spoke. “I’m so ashamed. I should have been stronger. I’ve been sinning against God, exploiting this man in my heart when he’s done nothing to deserve such disrespect. Sheriff Hassan is—”

“Sheriff Hassan?” Father Paul’s gaze darkened ever so slightly, and you leapt to the sheriff’s defense in his absence.

“He didn’t do anything, Father. Nothing more than friendly smiles and kind words, never anything inappropriate. It was me, letting my lustful thoughts ferment instead of nipping them in the bud right away. He committed no sin. It was me.” Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

“Why him?”

You were silent for a moment. “He’s a good man.” Better than most you’d come across. Kind, selfless, just—the virtues that were few and far between among the men of the cloth you had met. Above all else, even when it was difficult, Hassan Shabazz was good. “I love him.”

“You don’t love him, Sister. Lust after him, yes, but you don’t know him, not enough to love him the way you think you do.”

With a shaky, reluctant sigh, you nodded. “Will you help me, Father?”

He took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, it’s the least I can do after you helped me through the trial God set out for me when I first arrived here.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll get through this together, Sister. Let us pray.”

The following Sunday, you tried to match the enthusiasm he had for ten o’clock mass that morning. You had gotten used to it by then, the way he always seemed to know something you didn’t or was aware of details about the islanders you weren’t keen to even after living there for two years. He was easy to trust, you supposed.

Sitting in the wooden pew, you focused on following along with mass until the homily following the reading from the Gospel. Father Paul’s homilies were always a bit odd, cryptic, even. You assumed his faith was influenced by mysticism, and sought out books by the likes of St. John of the Cross and St. Francis in an attempt to better understand him. The way he spoke that day unsettled you, a fantastical fanaticism that felt out of place on Crockett Island.

Then, when it was time to receive the Eucharist, there was a solid minute where you were sure you had never hated anyone more in your entire life than you hated him. Telling Leeza Scaroborough to walk, goading the poor girl to step out of her wheelchair in an act of cruelty you couldn’t abide by. You got up from the pew, en route to smack him across the face when she did it. Leeza stood up from her wheelchair, and with tentative steps forward and tears of disbelief and hope in her eyes, she walked up to Father Paul and received the Eucharist.

Everything that followed was a blur, but you knew you were one of the few in attendance who hadn’t broken out into frenzied celebration. Something just wasn’t right. You found yourself hesitant to make eye contact with him when you took communion, and remained quiet even as mass ended, the cacophony of elated voices almost background noise to you.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I need to speak to our dear Sister in confidence. I’m sure you all understand,” he said, murmurs of affirmation from the congregants who had crowded around him, except for Bev, who had a puss on her face at being excluded.

Father Paul ushered you into the sacristy, closing the door behind you.

“Is something wrong, Sister?” he asked.

“How can anything be wrong? Leeza Scarborough can walk again.”

“Yes, a miracle occurred in this very parish, right before our eyes, yet you seem…hesitant.”

You chewed on your lip before murmuring, “Seeing isn’t always believing.”

“You were the one who told me this island needed life brought back to it, who said we could achieve great things together. Now I’ve done that, by the grace of God Himself, and you have cold feet?”

“It’s not that.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“You know I do,” you said, trying to ignore the lump in your throat. “Maybe my faith is still weak—I’m still weak. I’m sorry, Father.”

“You’re not weak, Sister.”

“I think I’m going to get some air,” you said.

He nodded, distressed by your continued lack of enthusiasm. “Alright.”

Leaving St. Patrick’s through the side door in the sacristy, you tried to muster up the joy and faith you were supposed to feel, but found yourself coming up disappointingly empty. You had seen it with your very own eyes, and had been standing right there when Leeza walked for the first time in years. It couldn’t have been a trick, not orchestrated or premeditated, not by her. But Father Paul seemed so certain. Was his faith that much stronger than yours? Strong enough that he could be a true miracle worker, a vessel of God Himself on Crockett Island of all places?

Even the more skeptical congregants present, like Erin and Riley, had bared witness to it. Could attest to what had happened just as everyone else had, as you could. As a nun, you were undoubtedly expected to believe, be among the most fervent of Father Paul’s advocates. Beverly wasted no time in declaring the act a miracle worthy of the Vatican’s attention. Your faith still wavered despite what should have been undeniable proof.

You’d lost track of how long you’d been walking around the island, but the sun was beginning to set and you realized you were tired and hungry. The general store wasn’t much farther of a walk from where you ended up while mindlessly wandering, and so you made the trek into town, telling yourself you were getting a few groceries for yourself and Father Paul. Really, the only person you knew you could speak to without judgment would be in there.

When you entered, Hassan greeted you with an emotional distance you expected. He probably figured you’d be among the dozens of people eager to relay Leeza’s miracle to him, underhandedly attempting to invalidate his own faith.

Grabbing a jar of sauce and a box of pasta, you brought them up to the counter. Your mouth was dry while he rang up the groceries, but you couldn’t help asking, “Have–um–have you seen Leeza recently?”

He nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Walked right in here and bought a Twinkie earlier.”

“Amazing, how it happened.”

“I know about what happened to Leeza. I don’t believe what happened to Leeza.”

“Neither do I.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“It doesn’t sit right with me,” you said. “It felt more like a show was being put on than a miracle. I don’t think she had anything to do with what happened, but he had to have done something. He was so sure she would walk, and I just felt angry, betrayed that he’d make a spectacle in mass. In all honesty, Sheriff, my faith has been wavering for a while, but this didn’t make it any stronger.”

“It makes me feel a little more sane to hear you say that.”

“Well, if anyone can get to the bottom of this, I’m sure it’s you.” You smiled, taking the bags of groceries from the counter. “Have a good night, Sheriff.”

“You too, Sister.”

Walking back to the rectory, you wondered if anything would be able to make you change your mind about actually bearing witness to a miracle.

Father Paul hugged you as soon as you walked through the door. “I was about to send out a search party for you.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Father. I just needed time to think.”

He looked at the grocery bag in your hand. “And to see the Sheriff.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sister, something incredible is happening here. I need to know you’re on my side,” he said, his urgency striking you like lightning.

“I am. I want to be. Please just be patient with me. This is—it’s a lot to process.”

“I can’t do this without you,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I need you.” His gaze fell to your lips.

“I should start on dinner,” you whispered, pulling away from him.

“Let me, you cook enough for me already,” he said, taking the bag from you. He pulled out the jar of sauce. “Red wine and oregano, right?”

You nodded. “That’s right.”

“Make yourself comfortable out here. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

The following half hour or so was unbearably tense, and you could hardly focus on the book sitting in your lap, The Dialogue of Divine Providence, while he cooked. The two of you ate in near silence, and you retired to your room early, falling asleep almost as soon as you changed into your nightgown and crawled into bed.

Burning pain seared your limbs when you awoke in the middle of the night, the pungent scent of iron assaulting your nose, and for a moment, you thought you were dying. You reached over to the lamp on your nightstand, your arm heavy as you moved it. With trepidation, you pulled the cord, a phantom sensation in your hand as you did so.

Soft, white light from the bulb illuminated your beside. Lifting your hands to your face, you let out a panicked whimper at the gaping wounds in your palms, gently bleeding crimson and flowing down your arms to your nightgown. The fabric around your torso was blotched with blood, each tinge of pink becoming red with every ragged breath you took. You tried kicking at the covers, but found it excruciatingly difficult, and to your horror, discovered identical wounds to the ones in your hands through both of your feet.

Your hands shook as you screwed your eyes shut, telling yourself it was a dream, and that when you opened your eyes, the blood would be gone, the wounds healed. Except the pain was all too real, pulsing in your wounds, tears stinging your eyes as you choked out a sob. Your simple bedroom, with little more than a bookshelf, desk, chair, and crucifix on the wall, threatened to suffocate you as your panic set in.

A groan pulled from your lips as you pushed yourself out of bed, your legs nearly giving out beneath you. The strange sensation of your bare feet on the wooden floorboards made you feel dizzy, or maybe it was blood loss. Each step forward was more agonizing than the last, but you needed help. You needed someone else to see you, a witness to what was happening.

“Father Paul!” you cried out from the doorway, your voice hoarse and low, barely carrying across the hallway. “Father, wake up!” Mustering what strength you could, you threw yourself against his bedroom door, your closed, bleeding fist erratically banging against it. “Father, please!”

“Sister, what’s going—”

As soon as he opened the door, you collapsed into his arms, sending him stumbling backward with the sudden burden of your body on his. He looked at you, gaping at the blood that covered you—and him.

“Father?”

“I should call Dr. Gunning.”

You shook your head frantically. “Don’t! Not yet.”

“What happened?”

“I woke up, and I was like this.” Your bleeding hands clenched around the hem of your nightgown, keeping it at your thighs. “I’m too afraid to look.”

“May I?” he asked, his own hands shaking as his fingers brushed the blood-drenched fabric.

Staring at him for a moment, reckoning with the further vulnerability you were about to display to him, you breathed a soft, “Yes.”

He pulled your nightgown up, the fabric sticking to your skin from the congealed blood. You stared at the ceiling as he lifted the garment over your head, too embarrassed and mortified to acknowledge your body bare before him. His fingertips brushed your torso, and you moaned. In your horror, you looked down to see deep, fresh wounds on your sides.

“Oh my God.”

“Do you know what this is, Sister?”

Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head. “It can’t be stigmata. I’m not pure enough, not devout enough. He’d never—”

“Of course He would. He saw you needed faith, a reminder of His love for you, and look at you now,” Father Paul said with hushed fervor as he took in the state of you. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed your forehead, then pressed his lips to each of your weeping palms, and then your feet.

Desire twisted in your gut at the sight of him beneath you. He kissed your feet again, a terrifying hunger in his gaze as he brought his lips higher up your legs, his hands brushing your skin with a reverence you felt unworthy of receiving.

You watched as he dipped his fingers into one of your side wounds and then brought the digits to his mouth, tasting your blood from them. With a ragged breath, he brought his face to your torso. His tongue plunged in the valley of your wound, lapping up the blood that gently flowed from it. A moan tore from your throat, pleasure rolling across your skin as if you truly were a vessel for the divine. Surely it was the same sensation that inspired St. Teresa of Avila’s eroticism, a mystical ecstasy that saw her driven out of villages and cloister herself in search of the purest, incorporeal love.

Except before you knelt a man of God whom you could reach out and touch, eagerly devouring your flesh as if able to find salvation in your blood. His teeth grazed your skin, eliciting a shudder that echoed through you like a worn-out hymn. Words failed you, the pleasure you received from his ravenous consumption of you overtaking the pain from your wounds.

Holding his head against your side wound, you wanted more, the feeling of him indulging in you. Taste and eat. Everything you felt and saw was in shades of violently blossoming red, deeper and deeper with each curl of his tongue and brush of his fingertips, his unadulterated worship, his veneration for you, serving as the flowing cup of God’s grace and mercy.

Rapturous bliss hummed through you like an ecstatic prayer, pulsing in your wounds on your hands, feet, and sides. You felt like he was part of you, a mystical union between yourself and him.

But just as high as he’d taken you, you quickly came down. The gravity of the situation, of what he’d done, what you’d let him do, weighed on your conscience more heavily than any illicit feeling you’d ever harbored toward Sheriff Hassan.

Father Paul took your face in his hands, eyes glistening with a joyous faith you no longer envied. “Your own miracle, Sister. Do you see it now?”

“You did this to me?” you asked in distressed horror. “You—Who are you?”

“Not me, Sister,” he said. “Here, let me show you. You’ll understand everything. I think you’re ready.”

He held out his hand, and despite everything in you screaming otherwise, you took it.

#father paul x reader #father paul hill x reader #father paul hill #monsignor pruitt #midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #midnight mass fanfic #slasher x reader #<- for my own blog organization

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rinhaler · 11 months ago

Text

TAKE OFF, TAKE OFF, TAKE OFF ALL YOUR CLOTHES

CHAPTER SUMMARY: It's Chigiri's birthday and everyone decides it's a perfect day to go to the nearby village to shop for secret santa gifts! Will you be able to get through one day without bickering with your ex?

ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol consumption, hate sex? + love making, dry humping, mutual pining, no prep, vaginal sex, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering, oral, mattress humping, tit sucking, multiple rounds?, overstimulation, squirting, choking, praise, dacryphilia, pet names (princess, baby).

WORDS : 12.2k

notes : It's MY birthday too btw hehe wanted Chigiri to be the readers bestie bc he's my birthday twin oops enjoy the fic tho ♡

LAST CHAPTER┊MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

Daybreak filters through the window as your eyes begrudgingly flutter open. It seems like both you and Chigiri had forgotten to close the curtains before you passed out drunk and stoned. The mattress beneath you feels like a cloud as you stretch out; your hand comes into contact with cold, fair skin.

You blink the sleep from your eyes when you recall that Hyoma seldom sleeps without a shirt.

And your blood runs cold.

It all comes rushing back to you, then. That crushing conversation with Rin you’d had last night that made you sob and search for your best friend, leaving him alone so you could preserve his enjoyment of the evening.

“Eita.” you whisper, attempting to shake him awake.

He knocked on your door, offered you weed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to decline. Not when you were so lonely, so filled with envy and loathing as you dredged over each painful word your ex shared with you on his balcony.

“Mmpf, w’time is it?” Eita grumbles, feeling around for his phone until he finds it. “Eugh, it’s so early…”

“You have to go.” you tell him, lightly slapping him until he pays attention to you. You get out of bed and are met with the freezing air filling the room. He doesn’t listen, but he watches you with one eye slightly open as you rush to turn on the heater to warm up the room. You freeze as you look at him again, wondering why he’s shirtless if it’s so cold. “Eita… did we…”

“Mm.” he grunts, closing his eyes again. You jump onto the mattress beside him, really shaking him so he can’t possibly ignore you. “Woah, what is it?”

“We fucked?” you ask him, panicking.

“No way.” he shakes his head. “Don’t fuck drunk ‘n high girls.” he assures you.

You breathe a sigh of relief as you lie back beside him. It’s stupid to worry about Rin anymore, but you can’t help it. He said he wouldn’t care if you fucked the whole house, but did he really mean it? It seems like a violation, to you, breaking bro code or something. And, honestly, you don’t think it would reflect well on you either.

The last thing you wanted to do was cause an uproar when you’re here for a few more days.

“Eita? What happened last night?” you wonder, quietly, unsure if you want the answer.

You might not have had sex, but that doesn’t mean something else didn’t happen. If you kissed, you certainly don’t remember it. The possibilities are endless, and it makes your blood reach the same chilling temperature that fills the room.

“We jus’ smoked, baby,” he tells you, rolling over on his stomach to look at you. He’s pretty, like this. He’s pretty anyway. But the pinks and yellows breaching through the blinds softens him immensely. “You cried a lot. About Rin. ‘n then you passed out.” he closes his eyes to sleep some more.

How utterly humiliating.

Though you don’t really have time to dwell as you see him trying to sneakily sleep beside you again. You lightly tap his face, yanking the duvet away from him to reveal his toned back muscles.

He’s still wearing his jeans from the party.

“I don’t know where Chigiri is, but if anyone sees you in here, they’re gonna get the wrong idea,” you whisper, and he grunts. He takes his time, but eventually, gets up in search of his shirt and shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles back at you over his shoulder as he shoves his feet into his sneakers. “You want Rin back, yeah?”

“I—” you hesitate. Do you want him back? You still stand by the reasons you decided to end things, after all. But so many feelings have come rushing back since seeing him in the flesh again. You were missing him already before you even got here. And now, you’re so close but so far. And even further now that he’s seeing someone new.

Do you really want him back?

Or do you just want what you can’t have?

“Either way, you don’t need me right now.” he tells you, pulling his shirt over his head. “Your loss, by the way.” he laughs.

“Hah, really?” you laugh too.

“Big time, I’m definitely a better fuck than Itoshi. Both of them,” he winks, biting his lip before heading for the door. “If you change your mind, I’ll be around.” he salutes before sneaking out and shutting the door behind him.

The cold air hits you like a brick as you run to lock the door after him, but you hurry back to warmth soon after. You starfish in the bed when you realise you have the space to yourself again, and your eyes slowly close. A few more minutes sleep won’t hurt, right? No one else seems to be awake yet.

He didn’t even tell you what time it is.

You roll over and grab your phone from the side table and wince when you see that it’s only 8am. It’s sickening, so much so that you practically throw your phone back down and get in a comfortable position to sleep.

It’s short lived, though, you get fifteen minutes of resting your eyes at most before you hear knocking at the door.

It makes you grumble, like a man. Like your dad specifically. It horrifies you enough to make you stir and clamber out of bed. It’s grotesque, you think, inheriting such an uncouth trait.

You’ll have to train yourself out of it.

You unlock the door, and you aren’t sure why you’re surprised to see Chigiri step through. He stares at you silently as you lock the door again, he doesn’t even follow you into bed when you cover your barely clothed limbs.

“Something happened last night.” he tells you, looking worried.

“What?” you wonder. “What did you do?”

He looks so serious, and it makes your heart race. Did you do something embarrassing? Probably, but that isn’t anything new. His silence makes your body flush with warmth. The nerves and anxiety you feel begin to course through every nerve ending you possess, and soon enough you’re throwing the blankets away from your body.

He looks into your eyes before thinking about what he should say. And after losing all composure, he starts laughing. “Nothing, just wanted to see what it feels like to be you for a second.” he smirks, “You do that shit everyday? Exhausting.”

“You’re such a dick.” you chastise him, getting comfy in the bed again. And now, finally, he joins you. “Have you got a hangover?”

“Big time.” he tells you. You grab some painkillers from your side table and pop out enough from the silvery film for you and Chigiri to consume. “Something happened last night, right?” he asks.

“Don’t get me started.” you sigh.

“I came up here to come to bed, the door was locked.” he tells you, “So I woke up with Tabito on the couch, Sae on the floor and Oliver on the coffee table.”

You laugh, rolling on your side so you can face each other and gossip. The state everyone is in today is no surprise. Though you suspect the only one not nursing a hangover is probably Rin. You didn’t see him drink all that much, and he doesn’t get high.

He’s probably doing his morning routine right now.

A routine he got you into when you first started dating. You wanted to impress him, after all. But his yoga routines are far out of your league. You used to end up giggling on your back after a fall while he laughed along with you.

But you liked doing the meditation afterwards.

“Rin almost kissed me last night, I think…” you contemplate it, though you admittedly aren’t sure if it’s a fabrication. “It was really intense, but he rejected me.”

“Damn.” he replies, “Wait, so you were in here alone? Why did you lock the door?!”

“Eita spent the night…” you sigh, covering your face with your pillow. Chigiri teases you, trying to pull it away to inspect your facial expressions. He’s laughing, loudly, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “He told me that we just got high, and I cried about Rin.” you confess.

“You are floundering.” he tells you, and you nod. “He’s into you, you’re into him, Ryusei made him sound like a major player so he’s probably a good fuck. Rin gave you your answer, you should have sealed the deal!” he continues, and all you can do is groan. Because he’s right.

How long is it going to take to get over Rin, anyway? Why should you spare his feelings when he clearly has no desire to do the same for you?

Eita isn’t what you want right now, though.

His pretty face and his alleged impeccable stroke game isn’t going to change that.

“Rin was jealous last night.” Chigiri admits, and it grabs your attention instantly. “Ryusei was, too. But Rin was really jealous.”

“Really?”

He nods, “When you were dancing with Eita, I was trying to keep an eye on him.” you get comfortable and make full eye contact with him again as he speaks. “While we were playing never have I ever, too. When Eita and Oliver were all over you, he looked pissed.”

“Interesting…”

“His girlfriend’s gotta be a rebound.” he theorizes, and for whatever reason, it gives you chills. Both of your eyes widen at the same time, and no doubt you’ve arrived at the same idea. “We need to get more info.”

“Ryusei wants to talk to me at some point, I’ll ask him.” you tell Hyoma, and he nods, concurring that it’s a good idea. “You need to talk to Sae. He might know something.”

“He didn’t even know Rin was coming,” Chigiri rolls his eyes, but relents. “Fine.”

The two of you go downstairs, surprisingly greeted by everyone else. Everyone’s crowded around the kitchen island again. The smell of bacon, eggs and toast floods your nostrils as you descend and reach the kitchen.

You sit in between Oliver and Chigiri, the former not paying you too much attention other than a polite hello. Ryusei catches your eye as he tilts his head, waving when you finally make eye contact. His face looks serious, intentional, he’s waiting for that talk you silently agreed to.

“Surprised you’re cooking for us all, Rin.” Hyoma speaks, resting his elbow on the countertop before settling his head in his hand.

“Yeah, well,” he speaks quietly but with a slight gruffness. “It’s fine.”

He carefully sets down two plates in front of you all. Eita and Ryusei are already eating, so Oliver reaches for the nearest plate. Rin scowls at him, harshly trapping his hand between the plate and the spatula he’s holding.

“That’s not for you.” Rin tells him, and he moves his hand. You watch him as he pushes the plate in your direction, looking at you briefly before he looks back at Oliver. “Here.” he continues, pushing the other plate towards his hungry friend.

Hyoma is thankful that Rin seems too preoccupied trying to shield his face from you to notice how his eyes have widened and he can’t control the smirk on his face. You haven’t noticed, either, but Sae raises a suspicious eyebrow as he looks at your best friend. Though, luckily, he doesn’t comment on it.

You look down at the plate, realising why he wanted you to have this plate. He’s cut your toast into triangles how he knows you like, and they are the perfect shade of golden brown with butter dreamily melting into it. He cut the fat off your bacon and fried it until it was crispy.

You look at Oliver’s plate, seeing how little care have gone into the eggs. The yolks are messy and broken, whereas yours are perfect.

“Thank you, Rinni— Rin.” you smile, picking up your cutlery as you start to dig in. He doesn’t say anything, he just smiles weakly as he nods. He washes his hands in the sink as his brother places a plate down in front of Chigiri. He sits opposite to him with a plate of his own.

Your smile fades as you watch Rin walk away without sitting down with a plate of his own.

“Where’re you going?” Ryusei asks, cheeks full of food as he talks.

“Not hungry.” he responds, retreating upstairs.

You sigh, losing your appetite despite the food looking so perfectly appealing. Hyoma leans over to you, whispering that you need to eat as he watches you play with your food. He’s right, as usual, so you force yourself to take a few bites. Your eyes meet Ryusei’s as you look up, and you see an expression of concern and worry on his face.

It forces you to continue eating. You don’t want to worry everyone, after all.

But you yourself are worried about Rin.

He could be telling the truth, of course. It’s possible that he really isn’t hungry. But what if it’s your fault? Maybe he can’t stomach the idea of being around you. Eating around you. He might not even want to breathe the same air as you after last night.

Breakfast… he made it for you specifically, though.

Why would he do that if he hated you so much?

“He’s almost finished eating,” Hyoma whispers, gesturing to Shidou’s plate. “Eat your food, pull him aside, and I’ll see if I can find out anything from Sae.” he continues.

You take a few more bites and push your plate aside. Chigiri waits for you to do as he had told you, but you whisper to him instead.

“Why do you think Rin isn’t eating?” you ask, “I should make him breakfast since he did the same for me!” you smile, excitedly.

“Aw!” he smiles back, a little too widely to be sincere. “Your cooking is disgusting. You’re trying to get him back, not kill him.”

“Oh my God it isn’t that ba—”

“Hey, didn’t you need to talk to Shidou about something?” he says, loudly, pulling everyone’s attention from their food to look at your exchange. No one is more captivated than Shidou himself, however, who picks up both of your plates and moves them closer to the sink. “I’ll wash up, dude, don’t worry.” Chigiri says as he stands to his feet, shooting you a final, warning glare before walking to the sink.

You smile at Ryusei, leading him over to the empty lounge. He lights the wood logs in the fireplace after seeing your skin break out in goosebumps. The couch feels tight as you sit together, despite being so far apart. His arm rests over the back while he rests an ankle on his knee, and you’re sitting cross-legged with your back against the furniture’s arm.

It’s awkward.

There’s an obvious tension that you don’t feel qualified to break. He’s formulating words, you can see him thinking of what to say since he’s older and should therefore be more mature. He’s the one who hurt you, unintentionally of course, so he should try and alleviate this heavy feeling of unease.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he starts. “If I did anything to give you the wrong idea… I’m sorry.”

“No, I was being a brat, I’m sorry.” you tell him, trying your best to not let your bruised ego interfere with a friendship you do value wholeheartedly. “You were right, I was hurting and then I lashed out because I was embarrassed.”

“You know I’d fuck you in a heartbeat if you weren’t Rin’s girl, yeah?” he laughs, tilting your head up by the chin with his finger as he urges you to look at him. “I know you aren’t together, but it’s a red line to me.”

“I understand…” you nod, “Are you going to tell him?”

He shakes his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Nothin’ happened.” he smiles at you. He pulls you into his arms and hugs you tightly. It makes you giggle; you can’t help yourself. Ryusei always seems to make you feel lighter whenever you talk to him.

He’s sweet.

Really sweet.

And often times, severely misunderstood. You’ve known him since he was young, he’s thirty, now. You remember meeting him when you hadn’t been with Rin for too long. He told you about how they’d fight, physically. He told you he was crazy and unhinged, this that and the other.

But you got to know him, you suppose.

You got to see a softer side of him and one that cares deeply. And he does care for you, even still. He’ll care about you for as long as he lives, you can see it plainly as he holds you in his arms, looking up into his eyes.

He looks at you like you’re his everything, sometimes.

You melt into his arms when you hear him lightly sniff your strawberry scented hair, it makes him hold you tighter. His head drops, levelling his mouth with your ear.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he wonders.

You stiffen, and he feels it. He rubs your shoulders lightly with his thumbs, encouraging you to share in your own time. Whether it’s now, or in an hour.

He’s got you.

“Rin— His… girlfriend,” you gulp, fighting tears as they threaten to form and douse your cheeks for the second day in a row. “Do you know anything?”

“I know the same as you,” he confesses, feeling a pang on guilt in his heart as he hears you sigh in disappointment. “You ended things, baby, are ya jealous?”

“I’m starting to think I made a mistake…” you admit, looking into his eyes. “Help me, Ryu, please. I want to know if there’s still a chance with him.”

He just huffs and shrugs his shoulders.

Realistically there’s not much he can do to help. And you know that. You know how stubborn Rin can be, and what’s worse, he’s so private about his personal life. It used to be you that he was so secretive about. The only pictures on his Instagram profile were ones of you and him.

Just two pictures.

One of your birthday.

Another of your engagement.

They’re both gone, now. It breaks your heart to think about. He might replace them one day with photos of her. The thought of another woman wearing his grandmother’s ring makes anxiety surge through your nerve endings. Your body eases, though, when you feel Ryusei’s protective hold get stronger.

“I’ll find out what I can for you…” he whispers, “Just don’t get your hopes up.”

You nod, closing your eyes peacefully when you feel him place a delicate kiss into your temple. Chigiri looks over at you, shrugging, as if he’s asking for news. But you just shake your head, leaving both of you disappointed.

“Sae doesn’t know anything either.” Chigiri tells you now that you’re finally alone together again in the room you’re sharing. You grunt as you sit down on the bed with him, pouting that your little scheme has failed before it even took flight. “Are we giving up?”

“I guess, what else can we do?” you sigh. It was a noble thought that you’d be able to get some information and find a way to get your fairytale ending, but this is real life. Of course that wasn’t an option. “Anyway, it’s your birthday tomorrow. We should be focusing on that. Sae said he wanted to plan something.”

“We talked about it last night… he suggested going to one of the bars in town.” he explains. “Maybe we could do the secret Santa shopping too. Who did you get?” he wonders.

“Um…” you get off the bed, moving a few things around in the room as you try and recall where you left the jagged piece of cardboard with your recipient’s name written on. You find it in a crumpled pile of last night’s clothes and panties, handing it to Chigiri to read.

“Sae! At least you know him well enough to get something for him.” he smiles, giving it back to you.

“I was hoping I’d get you or Ryusei to be honest… or, never mind.” you speak quietly, regretting wanting to bring Rin up again when you’d tried to change the subject in the first place. “Who did you get?” you wonder.

He smirks, pulling his own piece of cardboard out of his pocket before showing it to you. Your face drops, and he can’t help but laugh, sticking his tongue out as he waves it around teasingly.

Rin.

“Give me it.” you demand. You reach out to grab it, but he snatches it from your reach. “Fucking give me it!” you leap on him, fighting with him as he carries on keeping it away from you.

“You fucking psycho!” he laughs, losing the upper hand as he lowers his hands to hold his aching stomach. “I was gonna give it to you anyway, idiot.”

“This is a gamechanger.” you smile, triumphantly holding the bent and torn piece of cardboard. “He almost kissed me. He was jealous. He made me breakfa—”

“He made everyone breakfast.”

“We’ve got history!” you steal the conversation back from him as he interrupts you, glaring at him with a new determination in your eyes. He watches you as you speak, knowing that you’re definitely onto something. There is so much history between you. And if you can pull of a simple, romantic gesture, he might bare his heart to you again. “Good things always happen on your birthday. I’m more excited than usual.”

“Because it’s my special day and you love me, right?” he rolls his eyes. “Not because you’re scheming to get your ex back.”

“I’m very excited for your special day and I love you very much, Chigs.” you laugh, chubbing his cheeks as you bend down from where you’re standing to tease him. “I’ll give up after this, for real. If he doesn’t want me, fine! But I think there’s still a chance…”

You aren’t sure if that’s entirely true though.

Maybe it’s your imagination.

Maybe it’s just hope.

“Who’s gonna be the designated drivers?” Karasu wonders, scanning around the room as he contemplates who will fill the roles. “We’ll need two, minimum.”

“I don’t mind staying sober.” you pipe up, shrugging and smiling happily. You got wasted on your first night here and, honestly, your stomach is still raw. You look upstairs as you hear a creak of the wood floor, the only person not present is the birthday boy himself. So, your face lights up, eager to finally see him and give him his gifts. “It’s Hyoma’s birthday, so he isn’t driving, decide the rest amongst yourselves.” you tell them as you stand up and rush towards your shared room.

The guys nod, all looking at each other as they try and come to a decision.

“I don’t care.” Rin announces, taking a drink of his coffee. “I’ll drive.”

“We should have one more to be safe,” Sae suggests, and they all groan, disappointed that Rin hadn’t gotten them all off the hook. It’s a choice between five, and none of them seem willing to be gracious enough to offer. “Fine. Let’s draw straws.”

You knock on the door to your room before entering immediately after, a wide grin sprawled across your face.

“Good morning! Happy birthday~!” you squeal, rushing over to your best friend to give him a tight, loving squeeze. He laughs, thanking you gratefully. He watches you as you grab the tall bag full of gifts and hand it to him. “If there’s anything you don’t like, jus’ lemme know and we can return or exchange!” you tell him, and he nods.

Though, as expected, your taste is perfect.

He pulls out each meticulously wrapped gift and is happy with each and every item you’ve gotten him. You’ve gotten the perfect mix of presents for him. Some clothes, accessories, and jewellery you were certain he’d like.

“This must have cost a fortune, you didn’t have to spend so much y’know.” he smiles, happily, holding a designer sweater you’d gotten him with an intricate design. You think nothing of it, though. If you could buy gifts for your atrocious little step siblings, you didn’t mind doing the same for your best friend. “I might wear this today!”

“You should! We’ve just been picking designated drivers.” you inform him. “I’m not drinking tonight, but I told them you aren’t driving since it’s your special day.”

“You aren’t?”

“I want a clear head today… it’s gonna be a long day.” you explain, and he nods. “We’ll probably be leaving soon so we should start getting dressed.” you tell him, standing up and crumpling all of the wrapping paper into a ball. You toss it aside before you decide to sit and start getting ready again.

“I’m gonna say good morning to everyone.” he smiles, waving.

You’re alone in the room, now, thinking about what’s to come. You don’t know how you should wear your hair or do your makeup. You aren’t sure how to dress comfortably for a shopping day whilst simultaneously looking hot enough to go for drinks and party after.

There’s an unnecessary pressure you’re letting weigh down on you. You want to impress Rin. You want to leave an impression. It’s silly, really. He knows you through and through. Every deep, saccharine inch of you, better than anyone else ever will. But here you are, preening yourself for his benefit more than your own.

It feels somewhat in vain, deep down.

Why are you trying to put on a mask for a man that knows you so, so intimately?

“You look really good,” Chigiri comments, leaning across the centre console to whisper in hushed tones. You offer a giddy, accomplished smile as you thank him, Eita and Oliver agree with him as they seem to overhear even over the pop music blasting through the speakers.

Cosy was the right move when you decided on your look for the day, though you may look like you’re heading for a day on some ski slopes rather than shopping and partying.

You’re dressed head to toe in white. Earmuffs, fuzzy coat and boots, and a skin tight jumpsuit. You even have white mittens ready to wear when you get out of the car.

“So… we’re splitting up. Looking for gifts. And then meeting at the bar in a few hours?” you ask the boys, who all nod.

“I already know what I’m getting so I’ll be going straight to the bar when I’m done.” Eita announces.

“Me too.” Oliver tells him, laughing.

You shake your head as you watch them joke around like kids, but with a joyous smile on your face. They must have something simple and generic in mind to be able to purchase their gifts to quickly. Though, knowing them, it’s probably alcohol.

There are butterflies in your stomach as you approach the nearby village town, you look into the rearview mirror to see Rin is still following closely behind.

You wonder how frustrated he is with Ryusei annoying him in the passenger seat.

You take a deep breath as you park, watching him pull up beside you. Everyone gets out quickly, eager to stretch their legs after the thirty-minute drive. You sigh as Rin walks away rapidly; his face buried in his phone without even bothering to say goodbye.

Chigiri shrugs at you, and everyone disperses through the village in different directions.

“I don’t even know where to start…” you confess, looking between each of the cutesy looking stores.

You enter a few, browsing, hoping something will leap out at you. An accessory you know he might like or maybe even a keepsake that might remind him of you whenever he sees it. But it starts to feel hopeless after you leave the 7th little shop you come across.

Otoya and Karasu pass by you, laughing as you enter while they’re leaving.

You dread to think what they’ve bought.

“I bet they’ve bought dirty magazines or something stupid.” Chigiri suspects, shaking his head in amusement as he thinks about how loud they were laughing. You grin, thinking about how the other guys would react to receiving such a scandalous, silly gift.

You try a few more places, and even revisit some others. But you’re about ready to give up as time keeps going on and on. Hyoma hasn’t had much luck finding something for the elder Itoshi sibling, either.

You’re both close to just buying some local sweets and calling it a day.

“Well this has been a disaster,” you huff, “So much for this being a gamechanger!”

“We haven’t been down here yet.” he points to an alleyway with a few more stores.

You enter through the hefty double doors of one, observing what kinds of things they have on the shelves. You’re both immediately excited when you realise you’re in a charity shop. You’re all too familiar with some of the treasures some people give away, some of your favourite outfits are things you’ve found through being thrifty.

“Oh this is perfect!” you beam, looking through each shelf at all of the little trinkets. Chigiri separates from you as he starts sifting through the clothes, wondering if he can find a novelty shirt of some kind as gag gift.

“There are DVDs over here, maybe we should get some to watch if we get bored?” he suggests. “They’re so cheap.”

“Oh cool!” you smile, approaching him to look through the selection together. “Ah! Oh my God, get this for Sae!” you tell him as you pull a DVD down from the shelf and hand it to him. “It’s his favourite!”

“Taxi Driver? Okay.” he scoffs, but keeps hold of it. At the very least, he knows Sae will definitely like it. Though he’s sure if it’s his favourite he probably already owns it in some form. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Every time he tried to make us watch it, I always fell asleep.” you giggle. Your eyes scan across the DVDs as you carry on walking through the shop. And then you realise you’ve walked too far when you see the spines change in height and width. “Oh, CDs!” you speak excitedly as you look through all of the old bands and albums on the shelves.

You grimace in confusion as your eyes settle on a familiar album amongst all of the other more obscure ones. Surely not, you think. But you place your finger on the top and wiggle it out from being suffocated between the rest.

“Hyoma!” you squeal, flipping it for him to see. His eyes drop to see Lana’s Lust for Life album in your hand. He seems confused, though, as his eyes flit between yours and the CD you’re holding. “It’s a sign!”

“Is it?” he asks, sceptically.

“Yes! He got me this on vinyl for my birthday a few years ago!” you explain, and he looks sympathetic rather than supportive. “I— am I being stupid? I was thinking it might remind him of us.”

“No, no, it’s a good idea.” he tells you, holding your shoulders supportively. “Let’s go pay and get to the bar.” he continues, holding a few DVDs in his hands.

You grab your purse, offering to cover everything as the cashier helps you bag everything and rings you up. It’s cheap, and yet, you feel accomplished. You were starting to doubt whether you’d actually be able to find anything for him. If Chigiri hadn’t pointed this place out, you’d be giving him a poxy box of sweets on Christmas morning.

Although, the sweets might be a nice additional gift.

The guys slowly but surely begin filtering into the bar with their shopping bags. You’ve been here with Chigiri for a little while, but Oliver, Tabito and Eita were the first ones here when you arrived.

Ryusei sits down beside you when he comes in next, and Rin isn’t far behind him. Everyone cheers when Sae comes in last, and you can’t help but notice everyone’s shopping bags seem to look similar in some way or another.

“The shops are so dead.” Sae tells you all, and everyone happens to agree.

You aren’t sure what they all expected, though. It’s a small village town in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like you’re in a bustling city with anything and everything at your fingertips. It made shopping more fun, you thought. It gave you the opportunity to really look around until you found something special.

“I’ll get drinks,” Rysuei announces as he stands up. He makes a mental note of what everyone wants, knowing he’ll probably forget when he goes to the bar.

“Move down, Rin, I need to talk to Ryusei.” Sae instructs his little brother. Rin looks at Ryusei’s empty seat, and then at you. It makes your heart race when his pretty teal eyes meet yours. He looks worried, for some reason, but masks it well as he shuffles from his seat to the one closer to you.

Your eyes wander as they meet Sae’s, and he winks at you casually.

Hyoma never did tell you what he and Sae talked about, only that he couldn’t get any information, either. But from this simple act, it seems Hyoma has revealed your true feelings for his brother to him.

And you’re happy.

Because this small gesture indicates that you have his support.

You don’t say anything, not right away, as he settles down beside you. You’re surprised he isn’t toying with his phone like he has been endlessly since he got here. It makes your throat tighten to think he might be doing it so that you don’t see his texts with his new girlfriend.

“How did shopping go?” you ask him, hoping to break the ice and stop yourself from spiralling about a woman you don’t even know the name of.

“Fine, I think,” he tells you. “I think everyone’s gonna be disappointed with what they get.”

“I don’t know… it’s part of the fun.” you reply. “If we wanted to go all out, we would have planned to do this before we got here so we could order perfect, expensive things. But having a little budget and no idea was a change of pace.”

“What did you buy?” he wonders.

“I got some sweets to eat when we get back.” you smile. It makes him smile, too, causing you to giggle like a schoolgirl. You hadn’t expected to see his face change like that because of something you said. It’s warm, thawing away at your frozen heart.

“Happy birthday, Chigiri.” Ryusei says as he gives your best friend his drink first. You already know that Hyoma isn’t going to have to pay for a single drink himself while he’s here, it’s everyone’s birthday offering to him. Rin doesn’t pay Ryusei any mind as he sits down in his previous seat, too busy focusing on chatting with you.

It makes you feel special.

It makes you feel wanted.

“Rin?” you whisper, leaning over to him. He looks at you, a serious expression on his face as he senses your desperation. You’re trying not to be so needy, but you just can’t help it. “… I’m glad you decided to come along.”

It’s not what you wanted to say and not what he expected to hear. Although, you aren’t sure what you actually do want to say to him. Telling him you still harbour feelings will surely only end in tears when you know you can’t have him.

He isn’t yours anymore.

“Yeah? Well, it hasn’t been as painful as I expected it to be.” he tells you. And even that, such a simple, sulky sentence makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe it’s because you know it’s oh so quintessentially Rin Itoshi. “You did scare me, when I saw you on the stairs.”

“You scared me too…” you admit. “I—”

“It happened, it’s fine. We’re fine.” he tells you, taking a sip of the lemonade Ryusei had ordered for him. You decided to stick to water, the freezing ice cubes bump against your lips as you drink heartily. “I heard Otoya go into your room the other night. After we— talked.”

“Nothing happened…” you respond, drinking more water to cover how your expression fills with shame and regret. He nods, understanding. “S-So, your girlfriend. Tell me about her…” you ask, reluctantly. And you’re a little surprised when he shakes his head.

“I’m not doing this,” he speaks. “We’re fine. I’m being civil. You aren’t entitled to know about my personal life just because I’m tolerating you.”

“Tolerating me? Really?”

“Yes, tolerating you.” he continues. “You lost the right to know about me when you left.”

“God, Rin, I barely knew you then.” you huff, crossing one leg over the other as you slightly angle your back to him. He puts his arm around the back of your seat and positions himself awful close. It startles you when you turn back to face him.

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

“You were so distant. All you cared about was football.” you inform him, doing your best to keep your voice lowered so that you don’t make a scene. The last thing you wanted was to ruin your best friend’s birthday because you had a momentary lapse of judgement.

Maybe exes are exes for a reason.

“Because it’s my job? My career.”

“And I have a career too, but I still remembered to ask how your day was. You stopped talking to me unless it was about our schedules.”

“You—” he huffs, moving away from you. You’re a little taken aback when he stands up with the intention of leaving. He pulls out some money and tells Hyoma to get himself a drink, on him, as a birthday gift.

Everyone looks a little lost for words when he ups and leaves. But then there’s a sigh of relief when they remembered they appointed Karasu to be another designated driver.

It’s not sitting right with you, though.

It almost felt like you were close to a breakthrough. You were getting into the nitty gritty of why your relationship fell apart in the first place, and, as usual, he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. You gather your things and decide to chase after him, knowing you can’t leave things like this.

You won’t even be able to call yourselves friends if you don’t figure this out.

“You’re stalking me, now?” Rin chuckles as he ducks into Sae’s car and locks the door. You try knocking on the window for him to let you in, but you’re speechless when he just drives off instead.

You fumble with the keys to Chigiri’s car until you manage to unlock it.

He’s not running away from you again.

As much as he wanted to break the speed limit to escape you, there was no point. You knew he was heading home so you’d find him eventually. Besides, he didn’t want to risk either of you slipping on the ice and winding up dead.

So he kept to a steady pace, enjoying the thirty minutes of peace on the drive down to the cabin before what he could only assume would be a shouting match between the two of you.

“Rin!” you yell as you get out of the car, slamming the door. It would make him laugh if he wasn’t so frustrated, you always did prove him right about things like this. He gets out of Sae’s car and slams the door, not even bothering to look at you as he walks up the stairs to the cabin.

He unlocks the door with ease before strutting in. It’s hard to keep up with his long strides, especially in the wet, slippery snow. You do what you can to speed after him, even taking the stairs two at a time so that you can get inside quicker.

You spot him in the kitchen as if nothing had happened. He’s standing by the kettle as he boils some water to make tea. He looks at you, casually, before looking back at the steam gently rising through the spout.

“You’re so childish? How didn’t I realise how fucking childish you are on top of everything?!” you shout as you walk over to the platform that separates the kitchen from the entryway. He still looks intent on keeping his mouth shut. And it’s making you crazy. “Will you say something?”

“What do you want?” he retorts, instantly. He looks at you briefly before pouring the water into a novelty Christmas mug. It’s tacky and hideous and you’re sure he hates it, but it must have been the first thing he saw to use. He leans back against the counter behind him while he uses a spoon to press the flavour from the tea bag.

“I— tell me you hate me, call me a bitch, I don’t know!” you demand. “I hate this tension, Rinnie, because every time I think things are okay, you freeze up and it’s—”

“I can’t tell if you’re… joking?” he smirks. “You, literally, broke my heart with no explanation. I’ve spent months trying to move on and then you show up out of nowhere and you’re trying to be best friends. I don’t want to be friends with you.”

“So what do you want?!”

“I want you to leave me alone.” he raises his voice, and it’s harsh. But instead of hurting you, it makes you angrier. You blood boils as you round the counter to get closer to him as he speaks. He puts down the tea he made as you get closer, using hand gestures wildly as he talks to get his point across. “You shouldn’t have come here. Because you shouldn’t have been keeping in touch with my family after we broke up. It’s such a fucking red line, it’s violating.”

“Oh, well, fuck me for wanting to know how you’re doing after everything. You know, since you completely cut me off. I was worried and you wouldn’t even text me to tell you when you were coming to get your stuff!”

“This is your problem,” he wags his finger with a smile before holding it to his lips as he thinks of how to tell you exactly how he feels. “You’re so fucking entitled. I’m being nice to you after you hurt me, and you think you deserve to know me again.”

“No, this is your problem!” you bite back, walking away from him before closing the gap again. You look up at him with watery eyes as he towers over you. Your heart aches as you feel the distance between you expand the more you talk about the past. But it has to happen. Even if you lose him forever, you can’t carry all of this pain with you forever. “You shut people out when they care! I want you to be happy and I want us to be friends, but you won’t talk to me! I broke up with you because when you were neglecting me, I felt lonelier than I did when I was actually alone.”

“I didn’t neglect you, I loved you. What was really the problem? Huh?” he asks, getting closer to you. And you have to crane your neck just to keep eye contact with him. He can’t ignore how glittery your eyes are as you hold back tears. You’re covering your sadness with rage, that much is clear to him. But he doesn’t want to stop. Not now, not when you’ve driven him to the point of no return with your incessant complaints. “I was too busy for you, yeah? You didn’t miss me, missed me taking you on fancy dates so you had something to brag about on Instagram.”

“… fuck you.” you say, quietly, your voice gets trapped in your throat as you try and figure out how to pull away from this confrontation with your dignity intact. It’s too late though. He’s already witnessed a lone tear fall down your cheek. “Do you hate me that much? Do you think that little of me?”

He doesn’t.

“Princess…” he sighs, tilting your head up with his thumb and forefinger so that you’re fixated on his eyes. Teal whirlpools with flecks of turquoise that create a scintillating visage that cannot be described by a mere mortal. No, they are deep lagoons that you want to drown in. They soften as he names you the only way you’d want to be named by him. Not your birth name, but as royalty. His princess. “I don’t think about you at all.”

Your heart shatters and he sees so clearly how your vision breaks. Should you keep looking at him or somewhere else entirely. His face is stoic, as usual, though he cups your face like you’re precious. Like you are the princess you want to believe you are, for him.

The energy in your body has depleted and you can’t even bring yourself to push him away. All you have is words. And, even then, you’re drawing a blank. So you sink, deep. Lower than the depths of hell to truly muster three little words you simply don’t mean.

“I hate you.”

He doesn’t react, not fully. But the colour of his eyes dull as the words reach his ears.

“I fucking despise you.” he retorts.

You do nought but stare.

Both of you.

You just stand there, indignantly staring into each other’s eyes as you process the situation. Your chest heaves and your body trembles with fury. You didn’t mean it, not really. In this moment, you suppose you do hate him a little. But you’ll never know if Rin means it.

Part of you assumes he’s only saying it to hurt you like you hurt him. He said what you said but increased the severity of his words just to twist the knife into your bloodied heart. But maybe he does truly feel this way. Maybe he’s felt nothing but disdain towards you since you broke up with him all of those months ago.

Why would he feel anything positive when it comes to you?

Especially since he’s moved on.

“I hate you, Rinnie…” you reiterate, lip wobbling as your tears spill more and more.

“I don’t believe you.” he says, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

You scan his face, and he doesn’t move an inch. It gives you pause for a moment as you contemplate what you’re feeling. But there are no thoughts in your brain, it’s silent. Blood pumps through you, and emotions overtake you as you lunge forward.

The distance between you is gone as you press your lips against his. He doesn’t tease you, this time. He doesn’t pull away. He kisses you back. You feel his hands explore your body, large palms settling in the slopes of your waist before they lower to your thighs.

You could never hate him.

His hands on your body make you feel whole again. He himself can barely believe how lovestruck you are in the way that you moan softly and breathe deeply from just his hands roaming your body. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he deposits you on the countertop.

You lose yourself to loving squeezes and open-mouthed kisses as he grinds his hips between your spread legs, his tea long since abandoned in favour or tormenting what he knows to be your intricate, sopping flesh.

“You hate me, baby?” he asks, mumbling against your glossy, drooling lips. “S’that right? You hate me? Say it again, princess, say you hate me.”

“D— Don’t—!” you tell him, lips too eager to be smothered by his to answer him properly. You’re worried a truth might stray from your loose lips while you’re with him like this. You fight it, you really fight it. “I hate you, so much. R-Rinnie…” you tell him, and it feels honest. You’re substituting one word for another, and it feels so powerful as you lie to him with ease. He doesn’t stop, though.

If anything, everything intensifies.

“Yeah?” he asks, licking the tip of his tongue against yours tormentingly. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll stop, then.”

“No, please,” you beg and it’s downright pathetic. Your own hips roll to meet his movements. You hump against each other pitifully, the desperation and friction being enough to leave you heady and delirious and most of all satisfied that it’s thanks to Rin Itoshi. “Don’t stop, please.” you whimper, attaching your lips to his as he continues.

Your poignant words lead him to growl against your skin. It’s so primal. So territorial as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders and down your arms. You help him in his efforts to take it off, shoving it until it slides and puddles on the ground.

“God I missed you.” you hear him mumble against your skin. Your heart beats faster as you feel him caress every inch of your body, hands resting on the swell of your tits as he thinks about what he wants to do to you.

You feel your truth being coaxed out of you with each passing second. Every ingratiating word the is meticulously embedded from his tongue and into your brain makes you desperate to tell him how you really feel and beg that he feels the same.

“Rinnie, I—”

His entire hand smothers the lower half of your face. There’s a worry in his eye as his body tenses up. And still, he can’t stop himself. He carries on humping his heavy bulge into your clothed cunt at a snail’s pace, panicked eyes turning heavy and filled with lust as he looks at how needy you are.

“Shh, baby,” he tells you, showing no signs of moving his hand.

“I can’t believe they ditched us.” you both hear a familiar voice muffled from outside. You aren’t sure why you care, but soon enough you’re both scrambling to be away from each other. You put your jacket back on after gathering it from the ground, both of you doing your best to act cool. “Here you are! What the fuck?” Tabito exclaims.

You can’t look.

Neither of you know why you’re so ashamed. So humiliated that you’d almost been caught hooking up. It’s not like it would be so scandalous, is it? You’ve made it very clear that you still have feelings for him, and yet, you don’t want anyone to know about this.

He’s the same, though, doing all he can to maintain composure.

He looks calm.

But you know him.

His eyes are blown. Full of lust and anxiety as he tries to control his breathing. No one else would notice, but you see how heavy his controlled breaths are. He gulps, scratching the back of his neck before looking around.

“I’ll get the others,” Rin tells Tabito, who can only shrug at his words.

Only Chigiri and Sae had returned with Karasu, the rest deciding to wait in the bar until someone decided to come and collect them. Tabito thought he’d have to do a return trip, not expecting Rin to spare him from repeating the journey once again. But once he has the all clear, he kicks off his shoes and sprawls on the couch.

Chigiri stares at you, and you can’t even look him in the eye for more than a second.

Why are you brimming with shame?

He almost sobers up at the sight of you. You look so vacant and dazed. It’s hard to look at him when you feel like this. Every attempt to do so, every forced little smile, only makes his concern grow. He walks towards you, but just as abruptly, he stops.

Rin walks behind you, caging your body beneath him as he traps you against the kitchen island. He doesn’t notice Chigiri staring, and he can’t look away. You turn your head a little, but not much. You’re eager to look at Rin but he levels his mouth with your ear. His breathing is laboured yet soft, and your skin pinches together as it carries through your body.

“I could never hate you, princess.” he whispers. He leaves you alone with that sentence without so much as a glance. He holds the keys to his brother’s car and heads for the exit. Chigiri watches him walk by before looking at you again. Sae looks at you both, briefly. He too is curious as to what is going on.

“That looked intense.” Hyoma speaks, finally getting close enough to have a conversation with you. You smile, and it’s feeble, but it’s all you can do as you try to think of an excuse to give him. Maybe he didn’t mean what he said about missing you. Tensions were high, after all. He has a girlfriend to think about, of course he feels ashamed. Of course, he wants to pretend this little lapse of judgement didn’t occur. “Did something happen?” your best friend asks.

“We just argued.” you lie.

You never lie to Chigiri, though you’re sure you’ll tell him once you get your bearings. You need to find out what’s going on with Rin. It’s hard to talk about something you don’t understand. You’re sure he’ll be sympathetic once you have your story straight.

You just need to talk to Rin.

You need some assurance.

You need to know where you stand.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed early.” you tell him, giving him a hug before walking away. “Happy birthday, Chigs!”

“… okay.” he looks at you, hugging you back. “I’ll try and be quiet so I don’t wake you.”

“Goodnight.” you wave, ascending the stairs and out of his line of sight.

An early night was never an option. You knew that, and Hyoma probably knew it, too.

All you did when you got to your room was scroll through Instagram. You took some time to reply to some texts you’d received from family asking how your trip was going. You hammed it up, of course, not letting slip that Rin happened to be here too.

They all called you stupid for ending things with him.

It felt right at the time. But hindsight is a wonderful thing.

You weren’t ready to deal with re-opening that wound only to hear ‘I told you so’ repeatedly.

You heard Rin get home with the other guys, though they all stayed downstairs.

It’s all the more humiliating when you think about how desperately you want Rin to appear. You need him to come and get you, and not just to pick up where you left off.

You want answers.

Though you suppose you won’t be getting them tonight.

You spent a few hours trying on different outfits and following along with makeup tutorials from YouTube before getting bored. The raucous sounds of laughter and music got louder when you walked across the hall to take a shower and wash your face clean.

The floorboards begin to creak in the direction of the stairs when you get out.

And it scares you.

You rush across the hallway and back into your room. Your hand flies to your chest, adrenaline ravishes your heart as you lean backwards against the locked door. It makes you feel vulnerable, right now. No matter who it is, you feel scared of being seen.

Your heart stops when you hear a knock at the door.

It isn’t repeated.

Just one, singular, knock.

It makes your breathing stutter and stop abruptly. You don’t dare answer, not when you’re naked, save for the towel. It could be any one of the seven men you’re sharing the house with this week. But deep down, you know.

You know who’s on the other side of that door.

The steps retreat, and your breathing calms.

Was it him? Was that really Rin Itoshi on the other side of your door? You wait until you can barely hear the steps anymore before you unlock the barrier between you and him. When the door opens, you step out, sheepishly.

He looks at you from down the hall. Those eyes of his, full of pain and longing as he stares back at you with the same intensity you’re offering him. He doesn’t speak, but he goes into his room, so you go back into yours.

You let your towels hit the floor, crumpling up in a mess as you look for some nightwear and a hairbrush. It’s like a race against time, or at least that’s how it feels as you quickly try to brush through your sopping hair.

Every passing minute feels like it’s expanding the gulf between the two of you. So you want to hurry, it needs to be resolved now.

You barely even close the door when you walk out and jog down the hall to his room. It’s hard to be quiet when you feel such urgency to see him. You hope your footsteps aren’t too loud. And you hope nobody can hear over the music where you are and what you’re doing.

It’s all you can do.

And so, you knock, quietly, waiting for him to let you in. Too much time passes. Minutes feel like hours as you wait for him to answer. Your body feels cold, wet droplets decorate your skin and your hair drips down your spine. It feels like a mistake that you came. But why would he knock if he hadn’t wanted this to happen? Maybe he regrets this, too, as well as what happened downstairs.

It hurts to think about.

But he answers, and of your anxiety leaves you like a deflating balloon. Though you’re stilled, before him, and he doesn’t move aside. It makes your worries return as if it were a cat preparing to pounce on a rat. You widen your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. It happens again and again… and again until you realise, you’re choked up.

You can’t say a thing.

So, you don’t.

You get closer to him, still trying to say something. Anything. But nothing comes out, even when you’re close enough to feel his heartbeat. You just stare at each other in his doorway, openly exposed to anyone who may decide to ascend the stairs.

“I— I missed you too, Rinnie.”

His eyes soften at your sensitivity. The way that you have no qualms in making yourself susceptible to a painful rejection.

He lets you in, kicking the door behind himself before leaning back on it.

“You missed me, huh?” he speaks, his head droops backwards until there’s a gentle thud against the wooden door. His eyes are so heavy, his gaze is narrow. And still you can’t help but seek love and comfort from him as he looks at your with such disdain. “Are you sure you aren’t just jealous because you can’t have me?”

His words are hurtful, regardless of how valid of a question it is. It’s possible, sure, but it feels like more than that. You knew when you ended things that it was the right decision. But now it feels like a mistake, something rash you did in the heat of the moment. You didn’t give him a chance. You didn’t give either of you a chance.

And now, despite everything, you want to.

“You said you missed me…” you tell him, meekly, “I mean it, Rin. Did you mean it?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just stares. You always hated it when he did this, and it feels worse now, somehow. His eyes are terrifying and yet you can’t stop staring back at him. They’re piercing, like icicles falling from a height and impaling you without remorse.

“Rin…” you speak, closing the distance between you again. Your breath hitches as you approach, shaky hands reach out to rest on his chest, and you swallow before speaking once more. “Rinnie.”

He grabs your wrists and spins you around, pinning you against the door behind you. Your heart rate is rapid, and his isn’t much better. You’re staring again, but you bite your tongue.

Your lips meet as his crash against your own. He lifts you up, just as he had hours prior, and carries you to his bed. Your breathing is heavy, you pant furiously as you roll your hips against him in a bid to alleviate the tension that has been brewing since early evening. He drops you down on the bed, his body smothers yours as he lies on top of you.

His hips roll into your soaking core, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth.

“I meant what I said,” he tells you before silencing himself with another kiss. “Fuckin’ missed you.” he wraps his arm around your back and lifts your body further up the bed with ease, determined to get your head comfortable in the pillows.

You wince as he strips you of your pyjama bottoms and peels away your panties from your dripping cunt. It’s too dark to see you, but it’s enough. The way the moonlight bleeds through his windows turns your petalled flesh into a galaxy. Between your legs lies a constellation of the prettiest stars, and there’s nothing more that he needs.

He pulls his sweater over his head, discarding it somewhere unknown as if it means nothing. It’s true, in this moment. Nothing matters but being intimately bare with each other.

Your cunt, his cunt, is committed to memory. He could recognise how your intimate folds feel among others even if blindfolded. Because you were made for him. Of this, he’s sure. Your cunt belongs to him, and you would have done well to remember that.

“I can’t wait, princess,” he explains, and you nod in understanding.

“Please, fuck me, I can’t wait anymore. Rinnie I c—can’t.”

“Shhhh,” he whispers, freeing his cock just enough from their confines to line his length up with you. You sob when you feel his pretty tip catch against your hole. And he coos so sweetly as he teases you with that feeling. Your pretty tears are like diamonds dripping from your eyes as the blinding moonlight ignites them. “I’ve always given you whatever you want, I’m not gonna stop now.” he tells you.

It's the only warning you get before he pushes into you. He sinks slowly until you’re filled up to the brim and you’re sure you can feel him in your throat. It’s like nothing has changed. Every ridge and vein feels so familiar, you’ve never known a feeling better than you know this one. A ribald dance that only the two of you know.

His tip kisses your gooey insides in the most delectable way. Just as it always had in those ethereal nights you spent with him throughout your relationship. He holds your jaw with one hand, and it’s rough. A commanding force that’s imploring you to indulge him in this.

Give him your everything, mind body and soul. He can see how your eyes want to wander. They want to stray and abandon him just like you had months ago. But he’s doing this for you, he thinks you should understand that.

The least you owe him is your loving eyes on his.

Your love is trapped in your throat as you force it to stay there. His eyes are so beautiful and his body feels like you’re home again. You want to tell him, it’s making you cry even more. You can’t help but wonder if that’s enough, alone. If he can see the love you’re pouring into the tears you shed, will he understand what you’re so scared to convey?

He surprises you, however, as he spills himself inside of you after a few deep strokes. It snaps you away from your panicked mind as you feel warmth fill you. And that feels like love, to you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he tells you, stopping you from replying with a bruising kiss. “I don’t want to stop.” he pushes your little vest up your body until your tits spring free.

You moan beautifully as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, gently caressing the raised bud with his tongue. A gentle yet rough hand delicately pushes your tensing legs apart from each other, not caring in the least if his seed drips onto the sheets below. You gasp as you feel two fingers circle your sticky clit.

“Rinnie…” you whimper.

“I know.” he breaths against your damp nipple, his breath warms your skin before he sinks two heavy fingers into your needy heat. He humps his leaking, coated cock against your side as his length softens slowly. His rutting is in tandem with his fingers prodding your cum coated walls.

Your fingers run through his hair as he continues to suckle on your tits, your second-hand flies to join the first as he alternates from one nipple to the other. And he groans as you tug at his Sacramento coloured locks. The more time you’re with him like this, the more you begin to slip into old habits.

“Think I— f-fuck… Rin.” you mutter, moving your hand to grip the sheets below as he brings you to a tantalizing edge.

“Go on, princess,” he whispers into your pretty skin. “Show me how much you miss me.”

The coil snaps at his silver tongue and salacious language. He never had to try hard to convince you to submit to his commands in the past. Always so eager to please and starved for his touch. You could never get enough of him, and you’ve never been like that with a man before. He makes you greedy, and impatient.

So when he says jump, you show him how high you’re prepared to go for him.

He makes you look at him as you orgasm. Teal eyes, still somehow so radiant even in darkness, hold a neediness you haven’t seen in a long time. You cum, hard, dousing his fingers in your juices as he carries on finger fucking his cum deeper into your insides. And you feel him kiss you. It’s sloppy and pornographic as you swap spit and still moan into his mouth as he drags and pulls every trace of your orgasm from you.

You pant, relaxing your body as the tryst comes to a satisfying end.

“That was amaz—”

“I told you, I’m not ready to stop yet.” he tells you.

He sensually kisses and sucks your neck, though you’re certain it isn’t hard enough to stake his claim on you. He wouldn’t need to, anyway. You both know who you belong to, after all. You watch him as he leaves a trail of kisses down your body. His lips pepper across your collarbone before kissing between the fat of your breasts.

His shushing hits your ears as his mouth comes close to your pussy. His breath fans across your sex, and you feel just how weighty each breath is as he admires your glistening folds as if for the first time.

He gently moves one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, while he pushes the other one into your chest.

His tongue darts out, caressing your exposed clit as he keeps your legs far from each other. Your head falls back into the pillows as the angle makes you delirious. He looks up to see your facial expressions, smirking into your heat when he notices how much you’re enjoying him.

“Rinnie—” you moan, though you’re ultimately ignored. “Rin. Please!” you cry, begging for a bit of reprieve.

“You know what I want.” he tells you, quietly.

You don’t know, not until he frees your leg and sinks his fingers into your heat again. And they curl. It’s devilish and titillating and you just about scream from the feeling. You don’t tell him to stop, though. You wouldn’t dream of it. His arm wraps firmly around your thigh and keeps you fixed in place as you try to flee. But you’re trapped, fated to fall from a height until he’s satisfied.

“Let me see it,” he whispers. Your moans become strident as he digs and teases your spongy interior, searching for what’s rightfully his. He’s there. He’s right there. His jaw hangs low as your toes curl violently, and you make a sloppy mess as you cum perversely. “Goooood girl, good fucking girl. That’s how I like to see my pretty baby cum, jus’ like that.” he grins before slurping up your orgasm. Your pussy gushes like a fountain for him, and it’s everything he’s wanted and needed for months now.

He doesn’t care about getting a little wet.

He couldn’t care less that the front of his hair is almost as soaking as yours.

You hadn’t noticed while you were experiencing the bliss that is Rin Itoshi’s tongue, but he’s been rutting his length pathetically into the mattress as he devours your essence. Each lewd slurp and divine suckle, he’d been grinding his aching cock into the plush mattress below you both.

And he still is.

Pearly pre drools from his slit as he carries on, though he isn’t sure he can stop. But when your cunt stops twitching, he finds the will to proceed. He rests his hands on both of your knees as you put your legs together, waiting to see what he wants to do with you next.

He rakes his fingers through his damp locks, and your cunt flutters at the sight of him pushing his hair back. It flops back into place as he comes down to kiss you again. You wrap your arms around his back, and he moves your body with his until you’re straddling him.

“Rin, I—”

He doesn’t let you finish as he kisses you. His cock is standing to attention for you again, and he needs to be buried inside. You feel him line his length up, and he covers your mouth with his hand as you attempt to screech out in paradisical bliss as he fills you again.

“Let me do the work,” he tells you, and you nod. “But put your hand here,” he requests, grabbing your wrist until your hand envelops his neck.

You’re worried about falling backwards as he sits with you on top on the edge of his bed. But your safety doesn’t come into question as his fingers sink into your hips to keep you secure. You cry, whimper, and whine as you feel him fuck up into you.

He rewards you with harder and deeper strokes when you softly squeeze the sides of his neck, cock twitching pathetically as he realises how enamoured he is with you still.

“You’re so fucking perfect for me.” he tells you, eyes rolling back until they turn white. The gentle squeeze of your little fingers will always be his undoing.

“Rinnie I—”

“D-Don’t.” he requests, hips stuttering as the thought of you saying what he thinks you’re about to makes him spiral. His heart rate reaches heights he wasn’t sure was possible as he hopes you aren’t about to ruin this. Ruin whatever this even is.

“I love you.” you cry, “I love you s-so much.”

“Fuck,” he pants, slowing ever so slightly so he doesn’t cum before you get to again. He tucks your hair behind your ear. His hips roll and his defined body perfectly stimulates your throbbing clit. “I love you.” he confesses, quietly, kissing you sweetly after the fact.

“Nngh, fuck—!” you wince, your walls tighten around him as you start to feel yourself coming undone once again. So he fucks into you, hard, eager to help you along. “’m cumming, aah!”

You can only assume how red and sweaty his face is as he fucks into you with a passion and vigour you’ve never felt from him before. He has an unyielding need to please and remind you how much he had loved you with every deep, unrelenting stroke.

You cum with him.

And it’s transcendent.

“Did you mean it, princess?” he asks, heavy breaths huffing across your dewy skin. “Do you love me?”

“… Yes, Rinnie—” you pause. “I still love you…”

He kisses your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your torso and holds you close. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was worried to let you go. He lies back and keeps you pressed firmly against him. He plays with your hair as you rest on him. Contentment seems to fill the room as you do nothing but lie like this together. There isn’t a sound other than exhausted breaths and beating hearts.

“I should shower and change the sheets.” he muses into your hair; it only causes you to snuggle further into him. “You should shower with me.”

“I’d like that.” you smile, giddy over the idea of seeing him under artificial lighting and witnessing how his expressions really change when he’s with you intimately.

There’s a niggling feeling, though. That everything is too good to be true. You’re sure this is real, but you have a fleeting thought of being asleep in your bedroom after saying you’d go to bed early. His heart beating against your cheek feels real, though. So does his bare flesh and gentle touch.

Everything is too perfect, though.

You wonder when the bubble will burst.

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