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kakushino · 1 year ago

Text

Burden... or asset?

Uzui Tengen x Fem! Reader

Tengen recieves a crow telling him some bad news.

Tags: angst, self-worth issues, fluff, orgy, aftercare, sub reader, sub Makio, soft dom Hinatsuru, mean-ish dom Suma Word count: 14,2k

Masterlist | Part 1

A crow came flying just as you were leaving the estate for your date. The grimace on Tengen's face signified bad news arrived, a slip of paper in his hands.

"What is it?"

"My… best buddy is in the Butterfly Mansion. Run-in with an Upper Moon."

Since you came back, he'd told you all about his current occupation and standing in the corps. It was fascinating. You’d been removed from the so-called ‘world news’ due to your Mission, so it all came as a surprise. It was also curious how you’d never run into a demon before.

“We can cancel our date. You must be worried…” you offered, taking his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Tengen still looked torn. “If you want, I can go with you?”

And so, your time together was cut short - he took you in his arms and rushed off with an urgency you hadn’t seen since you came home.

The room in Butterfly mansion was decorated with origami cranes; there was a vase with fresh flowers at the bedside. The man, who you came to see, laid on the sick bed and had hair like dancing flames, though partially hidden by bandages. The whole room might have smelled like disinfectant but the overall feel of it was homey, cozy, lived-in; a very colorful display - flashy and flamboyant.

“Well, well, well - look at you. The white of the bandages does bring out your eyes. Maybe you should wear them more often,” Tengen said in a teasing tone, voice a little thick despite his bravado.

His best buddy smiled broadly. “That’s why I wore the white haori, Tengen. It has always flattered us Rengoku men, hasn’t it?” The volume of his speech could barely count as an inside voice; it reminded you a little of your half-deaf grandma, back when she was alive. Perhaps he’d sustained an injury of sorts…

You would be the last person to judge him for that.

Tengen sat heavily on the chair next to his bed as if he carried a crushing burden on his back, while you lingered a few feet behind him, feeling like you shouldn’t be here.

“I’m glad you’re alive. I came as soon as I heard… Though you left for that Train over a week ago. What delayed the news?”

“Shinobu told only my father and brother at first, said I needed the quiet and space - even though I was unconscious! Though apparently, that was pretty bad!” he smiled brightly, as if he weren't in critical condition just a few days prior. The bandage over his eye, half his head and torso down to his abdomen sounded more than pretty bad to you. “Senjuro came to visit me while I was out of it… Though I wish he didn’t have to see me in such a pitiful state.”

Tengen huffed in amusement, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You are certainly a sore sight for my flamboyant eyes, Kyojuro.” The movement revealed your form to the injured man.

He glanced towards you. “And who is this beautiful lady with you?”

Tengen smiled brightly. "Right - Kyojuro, this is Uzui [Name], my first wife. [Name], this is Rengoku Kyojuro, the flame Hashira."

"Ex," Kyojuro interrupted. "I guess I was hurt pretty badly! Shinobu told me I'm no longer in any fighting condition."

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, for it was a question you, yourself, were struggling with. "What will you do now? If you don't mind me asking…" What will I do? How can I channel my energy?

“[Name],” Tengen turned to you, eyes narrowed. He seemed displeased with your question, as if he weren’t wondering the same thing in his mind.

Kyojuro smiled brightly, completely at ease despite your intrusive question. "Why, I’ll do as all retired Hashira do - train new slayers. Perhaps I shall find an inheritor of Flame Breathing as well!" The optimism this man had was unreal.

The conversation faded into a background noise. Train new slayers, he said. You didn’t want to train new shinobi. You’d thought about getting into wifely hobbies, but that only filled your idle hands; not your mind nor stamina nor skills were being put to use, and it was frustrating to say the least. You itched for some action, despite what had happened during your last so-called action.

“-be discharged in about two weeks. Shinobu is assigning a nurse for me until I’m all healed up! And Senjuro will keep me company as well!” The loud and enthusiastic voice of the retired Hashira broke through your thoughts at last.

Tengen glanced at you for a moment, before he faced Kyojuro. “[Name] could help out too. I’ll be going on a mission soon.”

You shot him a sharp look. This was news to you. And rude to offer your company without consulting you first.

“My other wives haven’t sent any messages the past week. Something must have happened, and I need to find out what,” he said in a hush, all traces of good mood gone from his face.

Your heart clenched. He was willing to go for the others when he lost contact. He didn’t just simply assume they were lost. You weren’t sure how you wanted to think about this, how to feel about this. You buried your emotions before they had the chance to surface.

“I see. That is important indeed. Wouldn’t it be better if you took [Name] along though?” Kyojuro looked at you, tilting his head slightly. “You both could work together to collect your wives! Like a date! But a bit more dangerous.”

You pressed your lips together tightly. That was a good question. Why did he not want to take you with him? You’d gained back the lost weight and filled out to your previous body shape. You’d kept up a light work-out regime to get back where you were before the last grueling months at the Mission. Did he not trust your skills anymore? You clenched your fists.

Tengen shook his head, the beads on his headband clinking together. “It would be better for her to stay. My wives were investigating an Upper Moon sighting in an entertainment district. Losing contact is more than bad news.”

Why was he talking as if you weren’t there? You weren't just a breeze, nor were you a doll to be set aside when inconvenient nor were you a painting, to be displayed and kept at home. You were a warrior - a warrior who had the same amount of experience as him. How dare he?

“I’m here, you know? You could have just turned to me and asked. If it’s a red district then my aid would be more valuable - especially to find out about Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio’s whereabouts,” you finally spoke up, your voice flat. “If you remember, my skills lie in espionage, Tengen.”

There was a slight flush on his ears at your scolding. “You’ve never fought demons before, and that’s why you’ll stay and help out Kyojuro. I’ve got things handled.”

"I'm not made of glass. If those three can help you, why can't I?"

"Of course I know you're not made of glass. May I remind you glass wouldn't be able to take my co-"

"Stop," you interrupted Tengen, your face feeling hot. Kyojuro had been watching the two of you escalate the argument, lone eye going back and forth as if he were watching children play with a temari ball. "First of all, this is no time to joke around. Your wives are in danger, our wives-" You were still a little mad he'd gone through a mutually binding sort of marriage, making you the wife of Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio as well. "Second, you know me, you know my skills. You know I can help and that I'm willing to help, despite what happened when I came back-"

"That's a low blow and you know it. I thought you were dead. You forgave me alrea-"

"Shut up while I'm talking, Tengen!" Your chest heaved with your rapid breathing, anger nearly taking over.

Your husband was in no better condition; he used his size to loom over you, trying to intimidate you into submission. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, somewhat more intense than usual. His eyes were slightly lidded but his expression impassive; it was hard to tell if he was aroused, as he used to when you were having an argument in your teenage years, or truly angry.

“You can’t just put me on a shelf like a pretty housewife. You need my help. Admit it-”

“You’re staying and that’s final!” Tengen suddenly shouted, making you flinch. You took a quick step back from him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His eyes were wild, jaw clenched, muscles tensed. “You’d be nothing but a burden.”

You froze, breath stuttering in your chest.

He sidestepped you and left the room.

Nothing but a burden.

You’d been nothing but a burden since you reappeared in his life, haven’t you? You crushed his heart, destroyed his home, and you had yet to prove you were worth the complications arising from your presence.

So despite his continuous reassurances, this was how he truly felt…

“[Name]?”

You looked at Kyojuro, his worried expression saying it all. “I’m alright, I just-” your voice broke and you wiped your tears quickly. You hadn’t even noticed when they started falling. “I’m sorry you had to witness this.”

He waved you off with a dim smile. “You’re absolutely fine. It’s my first time seeing my best buddy like this, but all I can say is that it’s not your fault. It was me who stoked the flames when I should have left the matter be, and for that I deeply apologize. If I could, I’d bow to you.” Kyojuro laughed awkwardly before wincing and putting a hand on his abdomen.

All thoughts of Tengen flew out of your head as you stepped closer. “Hey, hey, easy… I think you shouldn’t laugh until that wound is all healed up.” Your belly scar throbbed at the thought of what the former pillar is going through. “Do you need me to call a nurse? Do you need any painkillers?” you fussed over him, sympathizing deeply with his pain.

A drop of sweat ran down the side of his face as he grimaced. “I think I’m fine. I just need to Breathe a little… Would you keep me company in the meantime?” He gestured to the chair right by his bed.

You hesitantly sat down. "Alright, Rengoku-san."

His smile made you feel at ease. "Excellent. Let me tell you about that one time Tengen and I…."

Tengen left.

He left you there with Kyojuro and went on the mission in the same breath. It hurt more than perhaps his words.

Nothing but a burden.

“Good afternoon, Rengoku-san,” you greeted the man with a smile.

“Good afternoon, Uzui-chan!” he beamed at you. “The Gods have given us the best kind of weather to walk home in, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your mind flashed to the wagon you would be transporting him in. A walk, right… You were given instructions by Shinobu to sedate him if need be. “That is true, and please, call me [Name].”

Kyojuro was already slowly shuffling out of the covers. “Then you may call me by my given name as well! I’m so excited to get home.” His wide smile was infectious, the black eye-patch doing nothing to diminish his bright expression.

Warmth spread through your chest as you helped him to his feet. Kyojuro was such a positive soul; despite your dark thoughts, you never felt lesser with him. You would love to become his close friend, if he’d let you.

“Alright, let’s get you to the cart. Aoi and the girls already packed up all the origami and dried flowers you wanted with you.” You supported him as you walked through the halls of the Butterfly mansion.

“Thanks, for everything. Your presence during my days of recovery cured me of my boredom,” he said quietly, surprising you that he even knew how to talk in such low tones. Perhaps he realized shouting nearby sick rooms of other patients was not polite.

“It was no problem. I enjoyed my time with you.” You two walked out of the mansion. He leaned against a wooden pillar as you knelt at his feet to put on his sandals.

“I apologize you have to serve me like this.” Kyojuro seemed embarrassed.

You shook your head with a smile. “It’s quite alright. Soon enough, you’ll be able to do it yourself!” You tried to be as positive as he was, making him smile slightly. “Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you looked at him shyly, face feeling hot.

Kyojuro just beamed at you. “Good thing you’re the kind of friend who helps instead, hm?”

Relief flooded your lungs, allowing you to take a deep breath. “Of course! Now let’s get you home!”

Pushing the cart loaded with a recovering Hashira and thousands of colorful stuff he wanted with him was quite the work-out you haven’t anticipated. The kakushi responsible for such had been called away on an urgent clean-up of a battle scene, and Shinobu personally asked you to do it, so you couldn’t refuse. At least he kept up a pleasant conversation on the way to the Rengoku estate.

A mini-version of Kyojuro was sweeping by the gate when you arrived. You tilted your head, studying him.

“Little brother!”

The boy looked up and smiled brightly, quickly running over, letting go of the broom. “Big brother!” He clutched at the side of the wagon, glancing over the bandages Kyojuro still wore around his torso. “Father wouldn’t let me go see you since you woke up.”

Kyojuro’s smile was like the Sun, if you looked for too long, your eyes would tear up. You had to turn away from the intimate scene, one you weren’t worthy to witness. Why were you even there?

"Senjuro, this is [Name], Tengen's wife. [Name], meet my younger brother, Senjuro," Kyojuro drew your attention back, as if sensing you felt left out.

Senjuro bowed slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kyojuro’s younger brother. Thank you for bringing him home.”

"Why don't you come in for a while? You need rest after such a long journey," Kyojuro offered, already trying to get out of the wagon unassisted, prompting you to move forward to help.

You smiled. “Okay, but only for a little.”

The day wore on, pleasant conversation lulling time into a background blur as you got to know both young men more. Tea was served, then dinner. Your belly hurt from laughter, and your cheeks might as well have been stuck in a permanent grin.

Golden light washed over all three of you as you sat by the engawa, the two little Suns with you glowing in the true setting star.

"Might as well stay the night. The road to Uzui home is long."

Senjuro brightened at the suggestion. “Yes, stay with us! I’ll go prepare a room for you, big sis!” He ran off too quickly for you to react to the bomb he dropped on you. Big sis was a name you’d never heard in your life, yet it made blood rush to your face as Kyojuro laughed, clutching at his stomach immediately after as pain flared from his wound.

Analyze the situation, as you were taught to do while being a shinobi - a kunoichi. Yet you could not take a step back from the emotional turmoil in the stuffy room you were given, and so the full moon saw you sitting on the engawa of the Rengoku estate, nothing and everything flitting through your mind’s eye.

You were alone.

The night felt cold, as if you could never see the Sun again.

Light breeze fluffed your hair, calming the whirlwind within for scarcely a second.

A door slid open. The light clack of a cane told you who exactly it was.

“You’re supposed to be resting, Kyojuro-san,” you murmured, not looking at him.

“I’m not that old to be resting all the time, [Name]-san.” You could nearly hear the grin in his voice. A heavy grunt accompanied his warmth appearing at your side.

“Well, you are still healing. And you might pull a muscle or something.” A smile appeared on your face, the banter distracting you a little.

“Oh, you just know how to kick a man while he’s down.” Kyojuro chuckled, the deep sound reverberating in your bones. “I don’t deserve your teasing, you know?”

“...that is true.” Your smile dimmed a little. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so familiar with him. He was your husband’s best friend, though Kyojuro made you feel so comfortable, so warm - something you didn’t deserve to be, especially when Tengen was out there, in danger, alone.

He was on a hunt for an Upper Moon demon. And you were there sitting on the engawa, doing nothing - when you could have been there, helping.

Nothing but a burden.

“I don’t want to be a burden, Kyojuro-san. I want to be an asset,” you confessed, staring into the darkness, so alike to the one you held inside your heart. You wanted to be cleansed, to be free at last.

And he knew just how to help you. “You know, the next Final Selection is in a week.” Kyojuro grinned. “It would usually be impossible for a normal participant to get ready in a week… You were a shinobi though, weren’t you? Do you know how to wield a blade?”

You nodded eagerly, your hair falling into your face.

“Sit with me then, I will teach you all there is to know about Total Concentration Breathing, [Name].”

“When did you intend to tell us you had a wife before us?” Suma asked, as gently as she could, after exchanging so many glances with the other two as they walked to the Butterfly estate.

The question shouldn’t have caught him off guard; he was actually surprised they didn’t press when [Name] had arrived back into his life, but now wasn’t the time to press this issue. He was dying from demon’s poison not an hour ago, he was exhausted, and Obanai’s late arrival did nothing to alleviate his bad mood.

“I was going to tell you…” Tengen sighed. “I was going to tell you once it stopped hurting.” His heart clenched at the thought of her gone, disappeared, dea- “I didn’t know she’d come back.” He faced the sky, the sun too bright against his lone eye - he now matched with his best buddy, he thought wryly - trying to swallow back his tears.

He didn’t deserve to cry about this, about her. He’d doomed her before he confirmed it himself. In a way, he had tried to redeem himself by how he treated his new wives, but he now saw the error of his ways. No amount of- whatever he was doing right now could have erased his guilt now that he knew she was alive all along. And that hurt more than anything.

The thought that he failed her destroyed him on the inside. Each day he saw her after she came back was agony. When she showed him her scars, he wanted to die, to rip his heart out of his chest and offer it, still beating, as compensation for the horrors she had to live through. And yet… it would not be enough, it would never be enough.

“Tengen-sama…” came Hina’s soothing voice. “We understand it must have been painful, but now that she is here, we need to know more.”

There was a lump in his throat, making it hard to swallow past the emotions and memories resurfacing. Tears pooled in both his eyes, making him wince when the salty liquid touched the wound on his left one. All that ran through his mind when the pain registered was that it was just a fraction of what she felt while she was away on that Gods forsaken Mission.

“We’d met when we were thirteen… still kids but you know how it is in the shinobi world,” he started hoarsely. “It wasn’t long before we started to fall… I saved up all my money and bought the mansion we live in to this day.”

There is one room you can’t enter, under any circumstances, okay?

It was her room, all three realized at the same time, sharing looks.

“It was foolish of us to marry, but I would have done it again. The short time we were truly together was worth it… She was actually engaged when we did it. Forbidden love at its finest.” Tengen’s eye glazed over as he stared ahead, lost in what used to be. He had been happy, both of them had been so happy despite the circumstances. They talked about starting a family, about quitting the life of a shinobi, about running away and never looking back. That kind of thinking bit both of them in the ass very quickly. “Her family was more… displeased than mine. She’d been sent on a suicide mission, though at the time, I had no clue it was that. By the time I found out, she was gone, and I was alone.”

And yet, she’d done the impossible - she came back whole, in one piece, at least physically. [Name] had no reaction to the silk yukata he gave her though, and that bothered him deeply. The bolts of turtle shell patterned fabric had been his wedding gift to her, it had been their hope, their promise, to swathe their first child in it. After her disappearance, it laid abandoned in her room. He couldn’t bear to enter it for years upon years, grieving yet in denial. He wasn't able to fully accept her death, to even think about her at all without weeping like a child.

Perhaps it was fate then, that after young Kamado’s trial, he’d commissioned a seamstress to make a yukata out of the would-be child's fabric on a whim. He wanted to hang it up, decorate the bedroom with it - a reminder and a remembrance, a threat and a promise, to never let any of his wives slip through his fingers like water.

Tengen was blessed though, with your life, he was blessed and he-

Nothing but a burden.

He would never call himself an asshole - would have never called himself one - until you, until that, until he called you a burden.

Gods, he deserved death for that. He never should have uttered those words. How hard he tried to reassure you, to ease you back into being home, to let you slide into comfort and abandon the high-alertness that came with any mission; night terrors woke the both of you in the silence of many dark nights - memories, would-bes, and thoughts plaguing the conscious and unconscious hours of your days.

Tengen had called you nothing but a burden, the words weighing him down now, making him stop and stare into nothingness, a chasm opening in his chest at the realization that no amount of comfort could have prepared you for this, he'd hurt you, broke your trust yet again, using your insecurities against you.

He had no excuse - sans one. He was scared, driven mad by the thought of losing you again and this time - under his watch. He was worried he couldn't protect you as he had sworn all those years ago.

And now he was the one who hurt you - the only person, who he couldn't protect you from, was himself.

Tengen was the God of Fuck ups, not Festivals.

As shinobi, loyalty was situational; whoever paid the most got it, and whoever couldn’t pay got dealt with.

As a slayer, your one and only loyalty was to humans. No demon should be allowed to live - minus Nezuko - and you planned to make good on those words.

You walked out of the wisteria forest on the seventh day, exhausted, but victorious. You’d been worried about it, since Tengen made even the lowest of demons out to be strong enough to rip you to shreds. That proved to be true - for most humans. You saw a few fresh blood puddles of where the other participants used to be throughout the week. All you could do was offer a quick and silent prayer and move on. The demons you yourself encountered were no match for your skill, though the borrowed half-nichirin half-iron wakizashi wasn’t your usual choice of weapon as a fighter, as a shinobi.

It was time to put such thoughts and memories behind you, move onto better and bigger things.

This time around, ten people managed to pass the Final Selection, including you, though you were by far the oldest. That was fine. Even if you spent only a year, a month, a week before you perished in the line of duty, even if you helped only one person, it was worth it. Suffering was worth it.

It was atonement for a lifetime of dirty deeds under the mantle of the title Shinobi. The whole weight of it was on your back, nearly breaking your spine. But you would endure. That's what's owed to humanity after you tainted it with your deeds in the dark.

Another side of you whispered, you’re still as black as you were before, you can’t find salvation, you are selfish to the core.

And the side was right.

Because your motivation didn’t lie entirely in saving humans, it laid in proving your husband wrong, in showing him you were an asset, never a burden.

You wanted to stand by his side and take on missions together - like how it was always meant to be. Tengen and you, against the world.

“Welcome home, dear student.” Kyojuro’s greeting warmed you to the marrow of your bones.

“I’m home, master.” You grinned at him, and limped over to give him a hug, neither of you minding the dirt and stink of the road.

“Congratulations on becoming a slayer. I’m proud of you.”

By the time your husband and wives were on their way back from Butterfly mansion, you had already stopped limping. You didn't stop training your Breathing in the meantime, trying to achieve using it non-stop as you waited for the arrival of your Nichirin sword.

The house was clean, snacks were prepared, and you found yourself sitting on the porch. Your stomach was full of butterflies, excited as you were to see Tengen again, though you were also a little nervous - you hoped Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru would grow to like you and for that, you needed to give a good impression.

You wore the silk yukata with a turtle shell pattern, an earthy green obi tying it together. You hoped you were flashy enough for everyone, though Tengen gave you the yukata so it must be flashy enough… Maybe you should have changed into something more colorful.

Tengen’s laughter echoed down the road.

Fuck. It’s too late to change. Is my hair messy? Gods, I should have checked-

The gate opened and you shot to your feet, straightening out your yukata in a panic.

Wine red eyes- no, wine red eye stared back at you, an eyepatch covering the other one. Your breath was nearly knocked out of you as you took in your husband. You knew he’d lost his eye and his left hand but reading about it in a letter and seeing it in person were two entirely different things.

You couldn’t stop your legs as you nearly ran to him, jumping into his arms, clutching onto him tightly as tears fell and stained his yukata. You had thought about what you wanted to tell him once he came home, but now that he was here - your mind became blank. You couldn’t think of anything to say, not when he was there, his scent and warmth filling you up in a way air and food couldn’t.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes seemed like hours.

At last, you said, “Welcome home,” in a choked whisper as you calmed yourself a little.

“I’m home.” His voice was near silent; if you hadn’t been so close to him, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

What a way to greet him after such a mission- Oh! You completely forgot about the wives!

You slowly pulled back, face feeling hot with shame when you took a step back, quickly wiping away your tears.

You bowed a little. “It’s nice to meet you again. I’m Uzui [Name]... your wife.” Your face was flushed and your hands trembled. “I hope we can get along.”

Suma was the first one to break; she nearly pounced on you, hugging you and swinging you around in a circle. You marveled at her strength as you held on for your life, laughing in delight.

A deft hand flew over your head and hit Suma, who nearly immediately dropped you - the momentum making you stumble back into a warm pair of arms and a very soft chest. It was Hinatsuru who caught you. “Are you alright?”

You regained your bearing, pulling away. “Yes, thank you. Are they-”

Makio was yelling at Suma, who was clinging to Tengen with crocodile tears streaming down her face.

“Uhm, is this the Uzui residence?”

Like moths to a flame, all of you looked to the still-open gate, where a kakushi stood. They had a - your heart skipped a beat - covered katana on their back.

You walked forward, smiling. “Yes, it is, kakushi-san.” You felt light, happy. Your Nichirin sword was finally here.

They bowed to you. “Uzui [Name], I presume?” They took the case off their back and presented it to you.

Your hands shook a little when you slid the cloth off of the sword. The scabbard was black, the grip a burnt orange, the guard in the shape of a flame, reminiscent of the one Kyojuro used to have. Your smile widened, cheeks near burning from the stretch; he must have told his artisan to make it for you.

It seemed the world held its breath for you as you drew the blade.

An ordinary steel greeted you before color bled into it, as if it were your blood fueling it.

A dark gold reflected the rays of the sun before it hid behind a cloud.

Your wives spewed congratulations after congratulations as you stared at your sword with joy. You felt as if you could soar. You laughed in delight as you sheathed the blade, hugging the kakushi, who blushed deeply underneath their mask, and then each of your wives. Happiness flowed in your veins, as golden as the sun, the flames, and the katana.

You Breathed fire. You were beautiful. You were powerful. You felt on top of the world, a goddess sent down to smite the evils of this world.

All this thanks to a single dark gold blade, your very own Nichirin sword.

Tengen could only stare at the scene in front of him, dazed.

He’d left you at home in hopes of saving you, of protecting you from danger he faced every day he went to hunt demons. The katana in your hand indicated he failed, and oh how miserably did he fail.

Did you do this to punish him? Is this your revenge? Retribution for the atrocity of taking more wives?

Nothing but a burden.

Did you truly believe his words - the ones he so stupidly uttered in a moment of madness in that sick room? He didn’t mean them, he never meant them. He knew you were more than useful, you were an asset in every way and form imaginable. Tengen was just scared, so fucking scared of losing you - especially losing you under his watch when he’d just gotten you back.

Fuck.

Did you… consider him unworthy of protecting you? Is that why you sought to become a slayer? To get your own blade and stand apart from him?

Was it a declaration of war on him?

Thousand men may die if so. He never, never meant for this to happen.

And Tengen would find no peace until he got to the bottom of this.

Raindrops fell one by one, creating a harmony of nature. A contrast to the whirlwind of emotions in his heart.

The light drizzle of the afternoon evolved into a lightning storm by the time the sun hid behind the mountains. You were glad there was no tree close enough to attract the lightning or to fall on the Uzui house, or you were sure there would be a big problem on your hands.

The tea room you sat in had been unused for months, clearly, as you had to wipe off some dust off the low table before you could use it. The pillows were clean, which was a blessing. It wouldn’t be able to dry out in this weather.

Though the furniture was traditional, the decorations were not. A few western pieces hung on the walls and there was a small statue in the corner of a naked angel reaching out to the heavens. One painting in particular caught your eye. It was a woman sprawled on her belly over a chaise, book in hand and kicking her feet in the air, clearly enjoying herself. If you squinted, the woman resembled you, a little.

But that wasn’t right.

If you were a painting, you’d be damaged, torn open, paint cracked, and your price would be pain - a price no one wanted to pay.

The door slid open.

All three wives stood there, and Hinatsuru spoke first. “May we come in?” She gave you a small smile, reassuring. You nodded.

Suma squealed and skipped over to the low table, quickly sitting down on one of the cushions; Makio carefully balanced a tray with teapot and four cups, Hinatsuru closing the door after her.

“I heard Tengen left to sleep over at Kyojuro-san’s. Is that right?” you asked, watching them all sit with you as Makio poured you a cup. The fragrance was slightly bitter, but you could easily identify it as mugicha, a barley tea meant to calm the mind.

You could guess why they came to you.

“That’s right. We’ve got a Girls’ Night today!” Suma grinned, nearly bouncing in her seat.

Makio gave her shoulder a light slap, “Shut up, let Hina speak, you idiot.”

“Hina~ Did you see? Did you see Makio slap me?” crocodile tears filled her eyes.

Hinatsuru shot them both a look, making both of them quiet down. She turned to you. “[Name], we’ve talked to Tengen-sama earlier,” she started. Your hand clenched around your cup of tea as your chest grew tighter. “We all know the feeling of looking in the mirror and not being happy with the body we see there. We just want to show you that you aren’t alone, and that in this household, there is no judgment. This household includes you as well.”

You stared at her in silence, in disbelief. You never thought they would be so bold as to approach you about this scarcely few hours after getting home, but on the other hand, it made sense. Tengen’s type wasn’t a shy maiden, even if it held a sort of appeal of its own.

A rustle of clothes caught your attention. Suma turned her back to you and loosened her obi. The short yukata fell to her hips, baring her back to you; there was nothing- until she used her hands to lift her hair. You drew a sharp breath.

An ugly jagged scar stretched from the top of her back up til it disappeared in her hairline.

“This is a pretty embarrassing story actually. Nothing grand at all,” she told you. “I was about sixteen and a spider startled me while training. I fell from a tree - a branch whacked me there, and since then, I have this ugly thing.” She let her hair fall down and sat properly again, a half-smile on her face; it didn’t look right to see her expression so grim and sad. There was a strange instinct to try to cheer her up, yet you remained silent, a lump forming in your throat.

Makio was next, untying her own belt as she knelt, letting her dress pool at her knees. Raised scar imitating torn flesh extended from her bellybutton to her hip, only partially hidden by her fundoshi. You wanted to avert your eyes but couldn’t. “This is only two years old. I was diving in the river with the girls when a current threw me on a bunch of rocks. Long story short, they were pretty sharp.”

She was so nonchalant about such a huge blemish on her smooth skin - it made you feel something, something sharp and unwieldy was lodged in your chest, throat, heart. Your hands trembled as you knocked back the tea and set the cup down quickly, lest you let it slip from your fingers.

You were being pulled apart at the seams, exposed despite wearing the most concealing yukata of you four.

Lastly, Hinatsuru stripped off her own yukata. A scar, unlike the others’, placed very deliberately over her areola. You choked on air, near hysterics.

Warm hands and warmer eyes reached out to you, grounding you as you keened. Because you knew the origin. You were there. You were there on the Mission.

You heaved a dry sob. There was only one thing you wanted to do.

You raised your fingers to your lips, kissing them, and then- the fingertips traced the ragged flesh softly, tracing it with a feather-light touch.

Perhaps you were overstepping, but you wanted to, needed to apologize, to show her intimately how beautiful you found her despite what had happened.

“You are stunning,” you whispered breathlessly, making her own breath hitch. You blinked back tears. “All of you are stunning.”

Suma shuffled closer. “And so are you, [Name].”

Your hand fell away. Perhaps it was foolishness, or bravery, that made you pull your curtain apart, baring your own skin to them.

There were no gasps, no horrified whispers.

Just four women, nearly naked as the day you were all born, sharing their humiliation.

…was it humiliation? Or was it strength to survive despite all the hardships?

"Our point is, each of us have some scars we are ashamed of. Do you think lesser of us for having them?"

You didn't even have to think about the answer. "No."

They smiled. And you realized that you would find only acceptance here, in their soft and tender arms.

Hinatsuru took your non-dominant hand in hers. "Some scars are silly, some scars come from gruesome experiences - but they make us who we are. They are part of us."

Suma took your other hand in hers, squeezing it briefly and lifting it to her lips. Oh so gently, she bestowed kisses on each fingertip, lingering on the scar from the knife tip that caused your abdominal scar.

In that moment, you did not see women - your wives - you saw deities, blessing you with their attention and love. They were willing to carry all your trauma together, to share the burden despite knowing you only for a short time. You had no words, except-

"I'm yours," you whispered, warmth filling your chest cavity, your body feeding on the intimacy, the closeness, the feeling of belonging. "And you're mine."

"You're ours, and we are yours."

If you were a painting, you’d be held together only by the frame - at least, that was how it used to be. Now, with three new wives to support you, you were slowly being put back together, healing at last.

"So… we match now, don't we?" Kyojuro said with a bright smile on his face.

It was the day after Tengen came home, but he couldn’t wait. Despite what he told his wives, he spent the night in an inn, marinating in the wrath he felt, in the hurt and the frustration.

Madness stewed in his stomach, threatening to be regurgitated at any moment. Tengen pushed down his feelings for the moment when he heard steps approaching. “Yes, we do match. Including the retirement and all the free time that comes with it.”

"I see. Well, you have your hands- hand full of your wives. I'm positive you will figure something out!"

A demure voice called out, "Excuse me." A red-haired woman came closer, kneeling behind the men sitting on the engawa and setting down her tray. There was tea for each of the men and a huge plate of steamed bread buns. "I thought you might be a little hungry so I…" she trailed off. Quickly getting up, she all but ran away from them.

"Thank you, dear!" Kyojuro shouted at her retreating back, laughing a little. "That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-"

Tengen wasn't in the mood to talk about his friend's nurse. He was here for business after all. “When did you intend to tell me you made my wife a demon slayer?”

Kyojuro paused, nearly mid-bite into a bun. Deciding to finish taking the bite before speaking, he quickly chewed and swallowed. "Delicious! Hmm, well, I didn't make her a slayer. She became one herself." He took another bite, finishing his first bun happily. "Delicious!"

“Cut that out, Kyojuro. She wouldn’t have become one if someone didn’t teach her Breathing. I know it was you, don’t deny it,” Tengen said between clenched teeth, rage very poorly hidden. Behind all the rage was worry, and fear, for her - yet all he could do was spew poison at his best friend.

“Maybe if you’d listened to her back then, you could have prevented me making her a slayer, in your words,” Kyojuro blew at his tea to cool it down a little. “Besides, [Name] is her own person and she can do as she likes. She wanted to be a slayer, she came to me for help, and I would be a bad best friend if I let your wife go into the Final Selection unprepared.”

Tengen hissed like an angry cat, “She could have gone to me.”

His friend leveled him with a flat look, so unlike his usual sunny disposition. “The last time she saw you before you left, you called her a burden. Imagine how that must have felt. If I were her, I’d be already divorcing you. Really, she deserves better.”

Better. Better. Better.

The word echoed in his mind. She did deserve better; she deserved someone who would support her no matter what, who wouldn’t go behind her back and marry three other women-

His brain circled around those thoughts almost constantly since she came back from that gods-forsaken Mission. What did she see in him that made her stay? Why did she decide to try - to accept their other wives in the polycule?

More importantly, Tengen knew she was antsy, that she needed an outlet long before he left for the red district. Getting back in the field - into the fighting, and the blood, and the hurt - was one thing he also knew he could not support. He’d just gotten her back, and he was supposed to be fine with losing her again?

No.

The answer was no.

He would have never approved of her joining the corps. He was a bad husband. [Name] deserved someone like-

Kyojuro sipped on his tea, looking over the peaceful garden.

-someone like Kyojuro.

“How often has she come to you while I was gone?” Tengen blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your first mission as a demon slayer was very uneventful, the demon being weak and easily tracked down, even despite your inexperience. However, there was a Kakushi that had gotten hurt - completely unrelated to the demon, they stepped into a small hole in the ground and rolled their ankle - so you were carrying them to the Butterfly mansion, which was the closest, or so the Kakushi told you. And they were right.

Once you’d laid the Kakushi down on one of the sickbeds further inside the mansion, where they kept the less severe cases, you didn’t want to walk back through the intensive care wing - especially since it was past midnight. You took a detour through the gardens, where you saw a red-headed young man sit on the engawa.

You looked him over, the bandages standing out against his sun-kissed skin. You knew immediately who it was. “Thank you for being there for my husband, young Kamado,” you said, breaking the silence of the night as you approached him. Kyojuro had told you Kamado Tanjiro had a very good nose; he’d probably been able to smell you long before you came close to him. “It must not have been easy - fighting an Upper Moon.”

Tanjiro looked at you, tilting his head. “Husband? Uzui Tengen has… four wives?” To his credit, he didn’t look as surprised to hear the Sound pillar had one more wife hidden away though perhaps his expression was closer to disappointment.

“It should have been me,” you confessed. “In the entertainment district - it’s what I’ve been trained for, what I was born for, made for.” The bitterness in your voice seeped through.

He gave you a tired smile, “Uzui-san, it couldn’t be helped.”

“I would have helped… He didn’t want me to.” You didn’t know why you wanted to pour your heart out to the boy. There was something about him, something that reminded you of Kyojuro, of safety and home. “I would have been just a burden.”

Tanjiro’s eyes softened, his expression sad, sympathetic to your plight. Yet he could say nothing, he only offered you an ear to listen, to take off your burden at his feet and go on with your life. He reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I spent the time trying to become an asset instead.” Sleepless nights of the week pre-Final Selection came to your mind. You did your best to stop being a burden, and you achieved that; you had your dark gold sword, your Kasugai crow, and your duty.

“I think…” he started uncertain, “You’re a warrior - were one even before you became a slayer, weren’t you? So you have never been a burden, nor a liability. Whoever made you think this way is wrong, Uzui-san.”

His words brought a slight smile to your face. “You’re too kind, young Kamado.”

Despite the reassurance, dark thoughts swirled in your mind. Still, Tengen’s opinion was branded into your mind, into your heart, your body set on fire and burning you alive with the same ache that had pulsed through your veins in the rhythm of your heartbeat when you came back.

Tengen’s opinion hurt you as deeply as his betrayal had.

And it was hard to let go of it.

You were helping Makio with the dishes after dinner when Tengen finally came out with what’s been bothering him.

“Why did you decide to become a demon slayer?” his tone was a barely-restrained typhoon of emotions.

You looked Makio in the eyes, and she understood immediately, drying off her hands on a rag and leaving the kitchen swiftly.

You both knew it was going to be a nasty fight.

“Don’t be mad, okay?” You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his jaw gently, since that was all you could reach. Tengen had an unreadable expression on his face for a second before he practically dove in for a deep deep kiss, the force of his urgency making you lose your balance and you lost your balance, his body caging you against the counter.

As swift as a summer rain, the passion turned into anger. He tore himself away from you.

“Why the fuck are you doing this? Are you still hung up on the whole-!” Tengen gestured vaguely in a sharp movement.

You blinked a few times, refocusing on him.

But he didn’t let you answer. “Is this your revenge?” he growled, standing so close he cast shadow over you.

You huffed. “This is no revenge, Tengen. I just-”

“You just what? Your husband left on a life-threatening mission and you go dilly-dallying with his fucking best friend?”

“What? Are you being serious right now?” you could only gape at him, shock freezing you in place. “What the hell are you implying?”

Tengen grit his teeth. “What do you think? A lonely wife, soon to be a widow, in need of a husband. Oh look! There is one right here!”

You chuckled without humor, yet you found the situation wholly hilarious nonetheless. “Tengen, he has a girlfriend.”

“He what?”

“I thought you are his best buddy. Kyojuro’s nurse, Amiya? She’s his girlfriend. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

Like a bucket of ice cold water over a fire, his anger was put out and he remembered.

That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-

You took a deep breath before giggling again, a little deranged.

Tengen took a step back. “I didn’t- I didn’t know.”

A mad laughter echoed in the room, and it surprised you to hear it was yours. “Really? You come back from a mission and you find your lonely wife, a would-be widow, found out about the joy of having a friend after years and years - and you what? Accuse her of cheating the first thing? Wow, you’re so fucking smart, aren’t you?”

“[Name], I-”

“No.” You Breathed, pushing him back and surprising him with your strength. “I never did that to you. Get yourself in the mirror and fucking look. Gods know there are many in our home.”

“Alright, I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of that,” Tengen took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I really am…”

“Yes, you better apologize. And you better apologize for one other thing, Lord Tengen,” you seethed. All the anger, the hurt and the pain bubbled together in a nasty concoction of negativity, a poison you intended to make him eat every drop of.

Because he made you eat his.

“I- Precious, calm down-” He backed away a little seeing your darkening expression, “Okay, honey, don’t be calm.”

“That’s right. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m my own person, with ambitions and feelings - feelings, might I add, that you hurt with your loathsome comment-”

Nothing but a burden.

“- but really, I should thank you. I actually found something I can put my energy to now that I’m no longer a kunoichi,” your voice softened as you looked away. You didn’t want to let all be unforgiven, you just wanted to fix it, to embrace Tengen and be embraced by him - flaws, scars, and all.

The kitchen suddenly felt cold, you felt cold - as if you could never warm up enough. You were frozen to the marrow of your bones, and the chasm between the two of you seemed so dark and wide. You were an island in the middle of a sea.

But then he stepped closer.

“Can I touch you?” his voice shook slightly.

Your eyes met.

You nodded. He reached out with both arms, his hand taking yours and pulling you closer, into a tight hug, his stump crushing you to his chest. “I’m sorry, precious... I kept thinking I could lose you, that I would lose you again so soon after I got you back. I didn’t want that, I wanted to keep you safe.” His breath hitched as he laid his cheek on the top of your head, breathing in your scent.

“That doesn’t excuse your words.”

Tengen’s heart ached, your voice so small and wounded. “It doesn’t, and I swear I will do my best to make it up to you - for the rest of my life, every day. I swear on my existence that I will cherish you every day, from sunrise to sunset and from sunset to sunrise. You are my one and only, my precious.”

The reverent promises warmed your cold bones, bringing life back to where there was none.

You’d long decided to stand by Tengen no matter what. You would forgive him.

After a punishment.

The master bedroom was a work of art - especially for a polycule. Nearly all of it was a raised platform covered by one gigantic futon that could host ten or more people, with about a meter and a half from the walls on three sides as a walk-around. Perfect for what you had in mind.

“Ladies, take it easy-” he choked out. It was too much at once - Hinatsuru cupping his jaw and leaving hickeys, you giving attention to his nipples, sucking and biting them, and Makio at his cock, lapping at his flushed tip. Where was-?

He tried to reach out to push his wives away but felt a tug instead, his arms immobile behind his back.

“Sum-aaahn~ Fuck!” Makio sucked him into her warm mouth, distracting him from Suma, who was skillfully weaving ropes around his arms; she was, after all, the best at shibari out of all his wives. Their plan slowly sank into his mind. It was hot, and he didn’t want it to stop.

Your nails trailed over his abdomen, Makio cupped his balls as she took more and more of him down her throat, and Hinatsuru practically devoured him with a deep kiss, taking his breath away. His mind went blank.

“Done!”

At the signal, all of his wives took a step back, leaving him panting and aching for more. His face was flushed and his eyes a little hazy. “Wha-?”

Makio grinned, wiping a little bit of drool from her face. “Did you really think this night is about you?” she tutted.

“Exactly, Tengen-sama. You’ve had our wife all to yourself for weeks. It’s our turn,” added Hinatsuru, turning to you. “As long as the First wife approves.”

You smiled shyly, face hot, yet turned on. It was all a show, just for Tengen. Hinatsuru had already asked you in private if you’d consider a night like that, since the three felt the need to punish him for his transgressions as well. If he already wasn’t regretting crossing his women, he would be after tonight.

“What are we waiting for?” Suma skipped over to you, grabbing you by the yukata and kissing you deeply. You squeaked in surprise at her forwardnes but kissed her back. She tasted sweet, like mochi - you now knew for certain she ate it despite being told not to.

The mochi was quickly forgotten when you felt your obi loosen. Suma’s hands went into your hair as she kept you occupied. Deft fingers pushed your yukata off your shoulders, another pair of hands going up to cup and play with your breasts.

“Girls, come on… I’m here, why don’t you use me for your pleasures?” Tengen’s voice was faint to you, as was Makio’s response, your head underwater despite breathing fine.

The hands at your breasts disappeared, leaving you cold, your nipples hard from arousal and the change in temperature both. Suma pushed you backwards, until your calves met the raised platform bed. She finally pulled back, someone - Hinatsuru - gently making you sit, then lay on the mattress.

“You look so cute when you’re all flustered… Your eyes are so lost,” she leaned over you and kissed your lips softly. You chased after her for more, but she only giggled. “It makes me want to ruin you~” She smirked. “In a good way, of course.”

Tengen could only stare in mute shock at what was unfolding in front of him. All his wives turned on him, tied him up, and ignored him, seeking pleasure from each other instead of using him as their play toy. The truth of the situation slowly sank into his mind as he watched Makio replace Hinatsuru in teasing you, and Suma help Hinatsuru into a strap-on harness - a strap-on that was an exact copy of his own cock! They could just use him!

“Girls… I’m right here~ My hands are a bit tied though…” Tengen nearly whined, trying to make eye contact with any of them, only for all four women to be focusing on each other instead of him.

“Sweetie, would you mind…?”

You looked up to see Hinatsuru with a big strap-on, waving it in your face. You opened your mouth and started to give it sloppy kisses, getting it all wet with your saliva, as you looked up into her eyes. She was smiling down at you, petting your hair gently.

There was a brief conversation behind you but you could only focus on her as she guided you down the cock, making you gag slightly. Hinatsuru pulled back and let you go at your own pace, telling you how good you were for her and how lovely you look taking the strap down your throat.

“Mhm, I think it’s wet enough, isn’t it?” She cupped your jaw and slowly slid you off of it, a string of saliva connecting your lips and the tip of it before it snapped. “Makio, come here.”

Gentle hands hugged you from the back, open-mouthed kisses worshiping your shoulders as Suma moved you back a bit to make place for your other wife.

“Mommy is going to make you feel good,” Hinatsuru cooed at Makio, turning her around and pushing her to her hands and knees. “Present for me, babygirl.”

Makio arched her back, balancing on her forearm to spread her already-soaked pussy, the sight making Hinatsuru blush in delight. She took the strap by the base and teased her wife by going up and down between her pussy lips. Makio whimpered and tried to push herself back on it, very nearly succeeding, when Hinatsuru spanked her ass lightly.

“Be good for me, okay?” Nevertheless, she pushed the strap inside agonizingly slowly, Makio moaning at the feeling. She used both hands to support herself now that the cock was in. “You can only cum if you make [Name] cum, babygirl. Sound fair?”

Makio smirked, though it lacked the usual sass, each slow thrust taking more of her brattiness away. “Yes, mommy~”

Suma pushed you down to lay in front of Makio, spreading your legs with soothing strokes on your thighs. “Let her make you feel good~” She positioned you to half-lay on her lap, one of her hands coming up to caress your breasts and play with your nipples gently.

Hinatsuru thrust in roughly exactly once, and it was to push Makio’s head in between your thighs, forcing her to start pleasuring you. She licked at your clit with just the tip of her tongue, drawing circles and infinity symbols; the long-forgotten feeling of someone going down on you ignited a blaze inside your belly, making you gasp and clutch onto the bedding.

Suma took hold of your wrist and placed your hand on Makio’s head, whispering lowly, “She likes it when you pull her hair~” Hearing that, you tugged at her hair a little, her moans only adding to your pleasure, the vibrations feeling heavenly.

“F-fuck-” you breathed out shakily, wanting to pull away yet push her head closer to you, already overwhelmed.

Makio dove in, sucking at your puffy clit gently, laving it with the attention it deserved. She made her way down, grazing the tip along your slit as she continued to make little sounds from Hinatsuru fucking her. Flattening her tongue, she hungrily ate you, a woman on a mission.

Hinatsuru looked up from the lewd display in front of her to look at her husband. Tengen was mesmerized, staring at all of them, before he caught her gaze. She caressed Makio’s asscheeks before delivering a sharp smack, earning her a loud moan from Makio, and subsequently another from you. His face flushed a deep red, lips pressed together in frustration. All the while, Hinatsuru kept eye contact with him, a smug smile stretching her perfect lips.

You tensed, crying out and thrashing in Suma’s embrace, hand harshly gripping at Makio’s hair as you rode wave after wave of pleasure.

“Shhh, you look so lovely when you cum, don’t you, princess?” Suma whispered in your ear, hot air caressing your sensitive spot as you shivered. “Did you see how good Makio ate you out? Isn’t she pretty when her mouth is occupied and not sprouting nonsense?”

You could scarcely choke out a word, quickly tipping into overstimulation. Hinatsuru, bless her, noticed and roughly pulled Makio back on her strap, pulling her face out of your pussy as she whined and moaned.

Suma rubbed your thighs in comfort; you just tried to catch your breath, coming down to Earth from the Heavens you were in.

“Are you with me? Ready for your lesson, princess?”

“L-lesson?” you tried to get your bearing, while Suma turned you around gently, shuffling back a little, her cunt nearly in your face.

“Why, of course~” She grinned. “You need to learn how to eat out a pussy. Did you pay attention to Makio? If not, that’s fine. Come, I’ll be your teacher today~”

You looked at her with half-lidded eyes, saliva pooling in your mouth as you processed what she wanted you to do. You wanted to try, wanted to taste her, wanted to find out how to please her and how to perform your wifely duties to her. The curiosity of the entire act burned inside of you.

You laid on your belly, your lips just inches from the well of ambrosia awaiting you. You give a first tentative lick, the tip of your tongue swirling around Suma’s clit, making her sigh out in pleasure.

“That’s good, princess.” Whispered praises left her lips, instructing you how exactly she liked it, where to lick, where to suck, when to slow down and speed up. Gentle fingers threaded through your hair, reassuring you and grounding you.

You alternated between her sweetness and her puffy nub as she guided you through your first oral, the taste so addicting to you and the praises intoxicating. Her moans only made you wetter, made you anticipate what’s coming next in the night as you enjoyed Suma’s depths for all she gave. Her thighs quivered around your head, the sounds of ecstasy resonating in your ears when her legs didn’t squeeze you involuntarily.

Your face was flushed, you could hardly breathe; you ate and ate until she was screaming and creaming around your tongue, hot pussy juices flooding your mouth.

“You did so well for me, haaah- princess,” Suma caressed you, easing you off of her with a shaky hand. “How was it?”

You licked your lips and looked up at her shyly. “I liked it very much.” The admission earned you a smile and a deep kiss, before Makio patted both your shoulders. Her thighs shook a little as she winked and then tilted her head in the direction of your husband.

You all shared a secret grin, turning to him at once.

"Heh, I knew you would want my cock eventually," Tengen smirked. You gave him an unimpressed stare.

Makio circled him and bent forward to hug him from the back, whispering in his ear seductively. "Worry not, pretty boy. Once we've used you as we want, you're being put back on the shelf. You see," she grinned evilly, "we don't need you to get our pleasure." Her arms tightened around him, a silent warning to not move.

Hinatsuru laid in front of Tengen, her legs spread on each side of his thighs as if she were offering herself to him. She patted your thigh to draw your attention. "Sweetie, paint me with his cum. I want it all over me~"

The nickname made your cheeks heat up. You nodded enthusiastically and shuffled closer to Tengen.

His lone eye was lidded, face flushed and lips parted as he looked on in anticipation of what was coming. His cock twitched right before your palm met his flesh, the spongy tip an angry red and weeping precum. You held it steady and opened your mouth, letting your saliva drip down on it, using it as lubricant along with his precum to stroke him. Tengen let out a breathy “Fuuuhk-” when you started a steady pace, putting both of your hands to use. You swept your thumb over the mushroom head with each pass, paying attention to what he liked. It was your goal to make him finish, after all.

“Come on, be our good boy and cum quick~ We need your cum~” Makio whispered into his ear in a sultry voice. Tengen whimpered.

Your hands were firm around his cock, unrelenting as you worked him towards his release; the weight of him in your hands was familiar yet new at the same time. His balls hung heavy and you cupped them with one of your hands, fingers deftly massaging him for the sweet treat inside.

Tengen cursed like a sailor, first spurt of semen shooting out with enough force to land near Hinatsuru’s neck. You didn’t stop, trying to squeeze the most you could out of him as he painted a masterpiece on his wife.

"Good job. Now you sit here nice and pretty for us. Such a good decoration to our pleasure, hmm?"

You, Makio and Suma all descended upon Hinatsuru with the hunger of starving hyenas. Licking at her cum-stained skin, you cleaned every beautiful inch of her as she closed her eyes, enjoying every second of it.

Tengen could only stare again, humiliated for the n-th time that evening. Yet again he was forced to sit and watch his wives go at it, barely giving him a taste of the pleasures they gifted each other so lovingly, using him as a source of cum to continue the hedonistic display in front of him. He felt shamed, and unbelievably turned on.

Makio’s head bumped into yours by accident, prompting you both to look up. Your eyes met, an animalistic impulse taking over as you locked your lips together, Tengen’s cum shining like lip gloss on both of your lips. So engrossed in each other, you forgot all about the audience you had, everything a blur as your tongues danced.

“Time to fuck that attitude out of you, brat.”

Makio’s head was yanked from you, a string of saliva stretching and snapping between the two of you as Suma tugged her back by her hair. Makio was forced to support herself with her hands on Tengen’s thighs, making him blush deeply at the sight. A sharp smack echoed in the room.

Warm hands coiling around your torso distracted you from your stolen lover. Palms with small calluses ran over your breasts, the rough parts catching on your nipples as you were pulled away and down to lay your head on a pillow. Hinatsuru laid beside you, foreheads touching, air shared between you.

“Do you want to learn how to make me feel good?” she whispered, eyes searching yours for any hesitancy.

You had none though. “Yes, please… Mommy.” Your face felt hot at the nickname you called her, but Hinatsuru only smiled gently, cupping your face.

“Of course, sweetie.” Her fingertips trailed down your throat, your chest, belly, making you shiver and goosebumps spread over your skin at her feather-light touch. At last, her hand stroked your thigh, raising it a little to allow her access to your most intimate place, two fingers delving between your pussy lips. You drew a shaky breath.

“Close your eyes,” Hinatsuru whispered to your ear. “Feel my fingers, focus on how I do it…” You gasped as her thumb circled your puffy clit oh so gently. “Copy what I do to you, hmm? Can you do that for me, sweetie?” Her motions slowed down, waiting for you to start doing as she ordered.

Your hand hesitantly trailed down her side to the apex of her thighs, dipping down to her entrance to wet your fingers before you began copying her. Her shaky moan signaled you were doing it somewhat right.

“Feel me?”

You hummed breathlessly, leaning against her neck, panting slightly. You weren’t ready for the pleasure her digits brought but you tried to focus on copying her movements. Each flick, circle and thrust was met blow-for-blow on her own pussy. You bit your lip as you felt her huffing into your hair.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie. Just relax and enjoy it, hmm?”

You could hardly relax when she brought you pleasure so expertly - each circle on your clit winding the knot inside tighter and tighter, making you see stars even before your release.

“Let go for me, babygirl.”

You cried out, losing control over your fingers as you shattered on Hinatsuru’s. Tears gathered at your lash line while she shushed you, still stimulating you gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure as they crashed upon you.

“So adorable. You sound so cute when you cum, sweetie.” She took hold of your hand and ground down on you. “Now, be a good girl and let mommy use you- ah!”

Hinatsuru didn’t bother to muffle her moans, chasing her own la petite mort. You watched in awe when she came, her pussy walls squeezing your fingers, more slick coming out of her. Her whole body trembled and she no longer had to control you as you made sure to gently bring her down to Earth, steering clear of her clit to not overstimulate her.

A lewd sound accompanied you taking your fingers away from her. You looked at them, all sopping wet with her essence; before you could stop yourself, you were licking it all up. Hinatsuru giggled a little and cuddled close to you once you were done, giving you a sweet kiss on your lips.

Makio’s face was right in Tengen’s, each snap of Suma’s hips driving her closer to her orgasm, her breasts swaying back and forth, her nails digging into his thighs painfully. He could not look away; he ached with need, his weeping cock begging for attention, tears nearly filling his eyes from the frustration. Just behind Makio and Suma were Hina and you, coming down from your respective highs, cuddling and not paying attention to him at all.

Why? He was right there! Why didn't you or Hina or any of them give him any relief? He truly felt he didn’t deserve this…

Makio went taunt suddenly, her eyes rolling back and her arms losing their strength, nearly falling into his lap. Suma laughed breathlessly at that and slowly pulled the strap out of Makio’s pussy, the fake dick bouncing a little. With a few tugs on the harness, she was free of it, a few indents showing on her thighs from how tightly she tied the straps.

Extra appendage discarded, it was time to untie Tengen, who’d fallen uncharacteristically silent.

Makio was crawling to the cuddling duo, completely spent, when the last knots fell loose.

Tengen Breathed.

Suma was on her back before she knew what was going on, her legs spread wide open. “Eh?” was all she could say when her husband’s large form caged her in, the tip of his rock hard cock already at her entrance. Her yelp alerted the other wives that something was wrong, but Tengen was beyond the point of caring. He thrust inside with one smooth move, groaning loudly like a cheap whore, immediately setting a punishing pace on his Second wife.

All other sounds fell away other than the lewd wet smacks of skin-on-skin. Suma’s face became flushed very quickly, clawing at his shoulders while he rendered her guts to pieces with his harshness. A beautiful mix of pleasure and pain.

He brought his hand down to her clit, circling it the exact way she loved. Tears filled her eyes as her release approached rapidly. Tengen had still not said a thing. He was just staring at her, groaning softly, sweat making his hair stick to his neck and face, which was set in a beautifully pussy-drunk expression.

She was lost, her back arching as she clung to him. The fluttering of her pussy made him let out sounds reminiscent of a dying man and still deep inside her, painting her walls white. Tengen pulled out slowly, still hard, throbbing and far from done. He did nothing to stop his cum from leaking out, turning to the rest of his wives.

Makio was already dozing off, despite the commotion, so that eased his burden so to speak. Tengen shuffled closer in a few quick motions, grabbing Hinatsuru’s ankle and yanking her to him, her noise of surprise drowned by his feral growl.

She laid on her stomach, so Tengen just straddled her thighs and spread her asscheeks open, pushing inside her wet pussy roughly. Hinatsuru angled her hips to take him in deeper, fucking herself back on him and moaning at the feeling of his cock rubbing against all the right spots. "T-Tengen, slow down!"

You could only stare wide-eyed as your husband railed Hinatsuru like a beast, his stump resting on the small of her back, arching her up even more, and his hand clutching the back of her neck. You glanced at Makio on your side, long since passed out, and then Suma, who was dozing with cum oozing out of her.

You weren’t scared of Tengen, per se, but this was new. You had never seen him go crazy like this. It made you gush with wetness at the display, your fingers reaching down to play with yourself.

His furious pace with Hinatsuru slowed down, though not any less powerful. He leaned over her, his whole body covering hers as he put his weight on his forearms, grinding into her with each roll of his hips, her eyes crossing a little, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Tengen started to whisper in her ear; you could not hear what he said, but Hinatsuru’s eyes met yours, conveying a silent message you could not understand. Was it pity or something else entirely?

Smack.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tengen spanked her, grinning widely, staring down at her. “Say my name,” he commanded her in a gravelly voice.

Hinatsuru desperately clutched the bedding - trying to remain in place or fuck herself back on him, you didn’t know - as she stuttered out a weak “T-Ten-gen-!”

“Louder!”

“T-Tengen!”

A quick rhythm of pap pap pap echoed in the room, you couldn’t look away, you could scarcely breathe. And then, Hinatsuru could scarcely breathe, when he wound his left arm around her neck, using the thick muscles to keep her in place while he had his fun.

Her face was red, mouth falling open in an ‘o’.

“Oh fuck- I’m cumming-” he choked out hugging Hinatsuru close, burying his face in her neck and groaning as if he were dying, letting up the pressure on her neck. She just whimpered meekly, grinding back against him, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his in an intimate touch.

You suddenly felt like a voyeur. You wiped your wetness on your thigh, quickly pulling a loose blanket over yourself, embarrassed.

There was a loud squelch and another whimper from Hinatsuru.

You chanced a look, your eyes widening.

It was clear Tengen’s mania did not pass yet, his cock still hard and twitching. “What, did you think I’d forget my dearest wife?” He loomed over you, his huge body casting a shadow, like a predator about to devour his prey. “Whether you're ready or not, here I come, precious…”

You felt like the temperature of the room rose a few degrees, watching him come closer to you, length bouncing, covered in slick and cum. You thought he must be pretty overstimulated, it should be easy to last…

How wrong you were.

Like an animal let out of his cage, he pounced. The last two creampies only took the edge off; your fellow wives were dozing off quietly while you were about to get ravaged.

Tengen practically tore the blanket from your body, leaning closer and blocking your escape, his forearms framing your head. “Why are you hiding from me, precious? Are you scared?”

You trembled from a mix of arousal and anticipation.

His wine red eye searched both of yours intently, waiting for your response. When you said nothing, he whispered, “Remember our safe word?”

Jade, or three taps on any part of his body with your fingers.

You nodded.

“You can still use it at any time,” he murmured. “Say it, or use our non-verbal signal, and I’m going to stop. Do you understand?”

You nodded again, making him sigh in relief.

Then, Tengen grinned, dropping all the worries he had; happy you were both on the same page. Now he was free to do as he pleased - as long as you didn’t stop him. “Then… Say you’re mine…” he leaned in even more, hovering just centimeters above your lips, your breaths mingling. “...pet.”

You exhaled harshly, the nickname doing things to you, his closeness, his voice, his scent… All of it an intoxicating mix of pure Tengen. “I’m… yours.”

“Hm? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder,” he whispered breathily, eye half-lidded. “Come on, be a good girl. You know you want to be~”

Your face felt hot at the intensity of his attention. “I’m yours.”

“Exactly, precious - mine to touch…” His right hand caressed your cheek, tilting your face up. “Mine to kiss…” he breathed out, diving in for a deep and sensual kiss that stole your breath away. “Mine to do whatever I please…” His hand traced down your neck gently as he kissed you again. “You’ve been naughty…”

His lips left your own; instead trailing open-mouthed and hot kisses on your throat.

“Teasing me all evening…”

Your pussy clenched around nothing, his cock bumping on your clit as he tried to position himself hands-free.

"Minxes-"

His tip caught at your entrance and he slid in with a low groan, your heat and wetness driving him near-mad already.

"You were so gorgeous, all of you."

In, and out, in and out - each time quicker and quicker, yet the way he took you could hardly be called graceful. It was an animalistic and desperate pace, all about pleasure and none about being pretty.

He leaned back a little, holding his weight on his hand. "Hold onto me," he panted out. "C'mon raise those hips f'me, precious."

You tightened your thighs on his hips, gripping as much as you could with his disharmonic thrusts, and arched your back off of the bed. His cock hit a very sensitive spot inside making you groan at the sensation and nearly slip down as you lost strength; Tengen used his left forearm to stabilize you as he fully raised himself upright on his knees, his right hand helping his thrusts.

He groaned, “You’re fucking perfect - and all mine, only mine.”

You could only mewl in response, your orgasm quickly approaching.

As did his.

“Fuck- fuckfuck, I’m coming, I’m coming-comingcomingcomin-!” he chanted over and over, falling over and putting nearly his whole weight on you as his hips stuttered. He leaned on his left forearm above your head to ease off of you a little, still slamming away into you, rhythmless and sloppy.

Heat filled you, setting you off like fireworks. Your pussy milked him for all he was worth, each spasm accompanied by a whimper from you.

“I can’t stop my hips- It feels so good, ngh-!” His semen spilled out of you with each slap of skin against skin, his pubic bone bumping against your clit and creating a burning ache there. Tears filled your eyes when finally he groaned out, "Fuuuhck-" You felt his hot cum spill inside you again, making you wonder where your husband acquired such libido and stamina while you were away.

Tengen slowed down at last, his body trembling above yours as he hid his face in your neck, panting. Your arms were boneless and refused to keep any semblance of coordination; nevertheless you hugged him loosely, one hand tangling in his sweaty locks. You untied his eye-patch and dropped it at your side, fingers returning to his scalp.

Each breath became longer and longer, his rutting finally coming to a stop.

He huffed and kissed your neck gently. "Gonna pull out now-" he grunted when your pussy spasmed around him, clearly overstimulated. He finally pulled out fully, for the first time since sinking into your heat, and nearly got hard at the sight again.

His cum was smeared all over your thighs and more still was leaking out of your puffy pussy. He could not resist - his hand gathering some of the pearly white, reaching up and smearing it all over your tits.

"Hey!" you protested half-heartedly.

Tengen laughed, still a little breathless. “Not sorry.” He gave you a short but insanely soft kiss, before standing up and walking to the door. “Stay where you are.” His form disappeared.

You relaxed, the gentle breathing of your wives soothing you. That was… something. You had never been with a woman before, nor had you had an orgy, or really been with anyone other than Tengen, but this felt good, this felt nice. Overwhelming, but neverending pleasure. Giving and taking freely. No pressure. Just ecstasy.

Tengen came back, carrying a small bucket of water and a few rags, each a different color. He gave you a wink and knelt next to Suma first, wetting one of the rags and cleaning her up, his gentle motions a clear worship to his wife. Once clean, he scooped her up and carried her over to the other side of the room-futon. Suma had not stirred once.

You rolled onto your side to watch him work as he moved onto Makio. Hers was swift, yet Tengen kept pausing every time she mumbled something in her sleep. Finished, he carried her to Suma, who immediately cuddled Makio to her chest. He threw a blanket over both of them as they snuggled for warmth.

Watching him care for them told you how deeply he loved each one, how devoted he was. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel jealous. Perhaps it’s the remnants of shinobi culture lurking in your brain, though the thought didn’t comfort you at all.

Hinatsuru groaned when he cleaned up his spend from her thighs, the water clearly going cold with time. Tengen shushed her softly, speeding up so he could get her to be with the others quicker.

With the girls, Hinatsuru rolled over, pressing herself up against Makio, seeking warmth.

At last, it was your turn.

“You’re shakin'…” You didn’t even notice until he pointed it out. He quickly grabbed the last wet rag and wiped you down gently. The water was lukewarm. “I’m right here, precious.”

His own body seemed clean enough, so he’d already done that for himself in the bathroom probably. You reached out and placed one of your hands on his thigh, right over the marks Makio left on him, hoping to provide him with a little of the comfort he brought you. Tengen smiled at that gesture.

“You did a good job, makin’ me feel good.”

You hummed. “And you did a good job making me feel fantastic,” you whispered as he finally wiped the drying cum off of your chest.

His hand slowed a little. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No, you were just right.”

He leaned down to give you a tender kiss, the forearm of his left arm caressing your cheek oh so gently, it made you tear up a little. This man, your husband, worshiped you like a goddess. Your love for him swelled in your chest, your heart pumping heavily as if it wanted to beat out of your body. You felt loved - loved, cherished, appreciated. It was a heady feeling, a drug which made you crave even more of his soft attention and veneration.

You could only hope he understood the power he had over you.

Tengen set the rag on the rim of the bucket and put it beside the futon. You got to your knees to join the others when your husband snatched you up, making you yelp a little. He was grinning. “Can’t have you walking after your first night in our flashy group, can I?”

You giggled quietly when he laid you down, himself between you and Hinatsuru, who felt a greater warmth from his side than from Makio’s and rolled over to him. You reached out and threw a blanket over all three of you.

Despite your tiredness, you allowed Tengen to pull you even closer against him, bestowing another adoring kiss to the crown of your head. One of your arms stretched over him, tracing idle patterns on his chest - characters, words, should he pay enough attention to notice them.

I adore you.

I never want to leave your side.

I want to make you happy.

You make me happy.

I'm yours.

You're mine.

We are husband and wives, a family unit, never to be separated.

You closed your eyes and drifted off.

#uzui tengen x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #tengen x reader #tengen #kimetsu no yaiba #smut #demon slayer #desi the blue eyed bitch #desi the blue eyed kakushi #tengen smut #angst #kny fic #kny smut #demon slayer fic #demon slayer smut #x reader #kakushino

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 2 years ago

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a/n: still kinda blown away by the response to my svech fics! thank you!! 🥹 like i said before, gonna keep riding this writing wave as far as it’ll take me. i’ve got at least two other lil fics up my sleeve after this one! also it’s been a month and a half since the asg weekend so don’t blame me if some of the timing on stuff is weird. i tried to hit all the major cute svech moments! this got obscenely long, my apologies and i kind of hate it but nothing to do about that 😂 i’m off to the isles/leafs game, so enjoy and i’ll be reading your tags while i eat a pretzel and cheer on my island boys!

word count: 7.6k (weird, felt longer while i was writing it 😵‍💫)

tw: yeah this one’s smutty. it’s drei in miami, so what do you expect? plus google-translated russian, so ya know, reader beware.

summary: all-star weekend and bye-week with andrei

The fact that this year’s All-Star Game is taking place - in Florida! - during your “spring” break is a blessing from God. The semester is barely started, but you’re already over it, senioritis hitting like a freight train. The entire week before you leave for Florida, Andrei is bouncing around the apartment like a sugar-high child. His grin is infectious and you can’t help but smile every time you look at him.

“Solnyshka,” he says over dinner on the Monday night the week of the All-Star break, “I’m an All-Star. The league picked me.”

It’s been weeks since the initial announcement and he’s still just as excited and disbelieving. You lean over and kiss him, “of course they did! Drei, you’re literally the best player I know.”

He laces your fingers together. “I’m glad you’re coming. And my parents and Geno. It will be the best weekend.”

“And the best part is that you’re on bye week after that,” you sigh, thinking happily of all the time you’re going to get to spend in the Miami sun with a shirtless, beachy Andrei. Yeah, you’re definitely excited for this year’s All-Star Game.

Andrei nods, looking you over with soft eyes. He grins, but it’s really more of a smirk, “what are you packing?”

When you raise an eyebrow, he continues, “I just want to make sure we are not going to accidentally bring the same things.” His face falls into a mask of pure innocence and you laugh out loud.

“Unless you,” pointing your fork at him, you start, “plan on bringing half a dozen bikinis in neon colors, then I think we’re fine.”

“Oh,” Andrei shakes his head, “I think I’m going to have to repack my bag then.”

Another laugh startles from your chest and you picture Andrei in all of his 6’2”, muscled glory wearing one of your bikinis and start giggling hysterically. “I’m sorry,” you gasp out between laughs. You’re always laughing with him and Andrei looks so proud of himself for making you laugh and smile all the time. He really is one of the happiest people you’ve ever met.

“I am thinking hot pink,” he grins, continuing the joke further. He leans back in his chair, kicking out his feet to nudge them against yours, always looking for a point of physical contact.

Still giggling, you manage, “that’s going to look really good with the inevitable sunburn that you get.”

He can’t even dispute that since he regularly burns any time Raleigh sees more than two or three days of sun. With a shrug, Andrei replies, “good thing I have you to put sunscreen on my back.”

After dinner, you decamp to the bedroom so Andrei can finish packing and so you can start packing. They’re playing at home tomorrow, but are off to Buffalo for the next night and then the All-Star weekend starts on Friday. Andrei’s planning on flying straight from Buffalo to Florida and you’ll meet him there on Friday after classes. He’s a surprisingly chaotic packer and you watch him toss items into his suitcase, knowing you’re going to tidy it up for him. You set your own suitcase next to his on the bed and start pulling clothes out of your drawers and fold them methodically.

While you’re digging through one drawer, Andrei comes up behind you, crowding your space and snaking his arms around your body to pluck a handful of lacy underwear out of the drawer. “Here, all packed,” he teases, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. The lacy scraps of fabric look even more insubstantial in his hand, thick fingers wrapped in the fabric.

You lean back against his chest and angle your neck so you can look up at him. “You know I’ll be spending quite a bit of time with your parents, right?” You reach for a few pairs of more modest cotton panties and wave them in the air. “I need my clothing to be opaque at least.”

“Only when you’re with my parents,” Andrei says, trying to be serious and lasting for approximately ten seconds before his dimple pops out. “It’s Florida, you’ll be hot otherwise.”

“Thanks for caring about my temperature regulation,” you deadpan, turning in his arms and leaning up to kiss the edge of his jaw. A few days worth of stubble scrape against your lips and you loop your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know I’ve said it, but, I’m just really proud of you, Drei. This is so exciting.”

He smiles a little sheepishly, the tips of his ears going pink, and drops his head to rest his forehead against yours. “I’m glad to share this with you and my family,” he says quietly, shrugging a little. “They deserve as much as I do.”

That had been something that had surprised you when you first starting dating Andrei - how much he loved and respected his family. Your initial impression of him - tall, gorgeous, accented professional hockey player - had not included a thought or inkling that he was the sweetest, most respectful, mama’s boy in the greater Raleigh area. But as you’d learned more about his childhood and upbringing, his personality makes so much sense. Getting to see his relationship with his parents and Geno is one of your favorite things. Especially his relationship with his brother. Geno’s two and a half years older than Andrei and practically a superhero to your boyfriend. They text constantly and FaceTime at least once a week, usually more, and if you were less secure in your relationship you might have been annoyed that Geno was Andrei’s first call about being chosen as the Canes’ All Star. You’re mostly just used to waving at Geno when Andrei wanders past the couch while he’s talking to his brother. It’s sweet.

“Let’s make it a weekend to remember, huh?” you ask, leaning up into another kiss. Andrei gathers you into his arms and backs you up to the bed, pulling down your sweatpants with one hand and holding your wrists above your head in the other. You shimmy a little, helping him get your sweats off and surrender to his lead - definitely starting the weekend right, even if it is only Monday.

Andrei’s up early the next morning, getting in a quick workout while you get ready for class. You’re prepping a smoothie for yourself and a protein shake for him when he comes back to the apartment, red-faced and sweaty. “Spasibo,” he takes the offered shake with a kiss to your temple. It’s gone in three large gulps and you watch Andrei’s throat move as he swallows, feeling a little dry-mouthed from the sight. You shift, pressing your thighs together, and lean against the counter, dipping at your smoothie.

“Pozhaluysta,” you reply, practicing your extremely basic Russian. You’re not even sure if you’re saying it right, but Andrei’s face splits into a proud grin and you figure you must be close enough.

“I love when you try the Russian,” he says, stepping into your personal space and nuzzling his nose into your hair. “It’s hot as hell.”

“Right back atcha,” you tease, pushing away from him a bit. “You’re all sweaty. I have to go to class.”

Andrei laughs and wraps his arms around you, making you shriek and protest. “I won’t see you until Friday! You’ll miss me,” he argues, holding you tight.

Wiggling away from him, you shoot back, “you, maybe. Not your gross, sweaty shirt!” But you’re not really mad at him, not when he’s so cute and smiley and you really will miss him until you see him on Friday. “You’re all packed right?” You ask, back against the counter.

Andrei nods, “all ready to go. I even have extra space, if you want to shop with my mom in Miami.”

Your heart melts at how thoughtful he is and you clap a hand over your heart. “My hero,” you tease. “You really know me so well.”

“You should have plenty of room,” he teases, eyes crinkling at the corners, “since your bathing suits are so small.”

“I’m leaving,” you laugh, leaning up to kiss him again. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

Andrei catches your wrist in his hand, tugging you back a few steps and kisses your shoulder. “Fly safe, solnyshka,” he says and you melt again. Twisting your fingers in the hem of his shirt - God, it really is so sweaty - you nod up at him.

“I’ll do my very best, Drei.” A slow smirk and a wrinkle of your nose. “My pilot’s license is a little outdated, but I’m sure it’s fine.”

It takes a second for your joke to land, Andrei’s face morphing from confusion to amusement, and he swats gently at your ass. He flounders for a word before settling on “derzkiy,” which you make a note to Google Translate later. “Off to class then,” he shakes his head, nudging you to the door. You let him push you along, gathering up your phone and backpack as you go.

Once you’re at the door, you push back against the hand in between your shoulder blades and look up at him with wide eyes. “A kiss for the road?” you pout gently, pulling one of his favorite moves.

Andrei sighs, pretending to be exasperated, and kisses you once, quickly. It’s barely a brush of his lips and your mouth falls open. “That’s it?” You complain. “I won’t see you for three days and that’s the only kiss I have to keep me warm during the cold, lonely February nights?”

“If I kissed you the way I want to kiss you,” Andrei replies, voice lowering a bit as he leans in, his forearm resting on the doorframe, “then you will miss class and I will miss the games. We will both miss the All-Star Weekend too.”

“Oh,” you blink at the intensity of his tone. “Well,” you pat his chest, “keep that energy ready for Friday then.”

He swats at your ass again, sending you out into the hallway with a loud giggle.

The rest of the day slips away into a blur of classes, school work, and meetings with advisors. Before your night class, you text Andrei in your usual pre-game ritual - a string of emojis (red heart, white heart, black heart, and the tornado). He replies a few minutes later with his usual string of incomprehensible emojis, this time they have an abundance of suns and palm trees in the middle of the string. You smile at the message, hearting it and setting your phone back in your bag.

The game is a win and you talk to Andrei on the phone briefly before he gets on the plane. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the game and you can barely hear him over the sound of the boys celebrating.

“I love you,” you grin down the line, burrowing under the covers. “Break a skate tomorrow.”

“I love you,” he replies. There’s a beat and then, “what are you wearing?”

You laugh loudly and answer honestly. “Old sweatpants, thick socks, and one of your sweatshirts. I’m fucking freezing.”

“At least you aren’t going to Buffalo,” Andrei shoots back on a laugh. “Who will keep me warm there?”

“Your boyfriend, Pyotr, of course,” you reply, blasé.

“His hands are not as soft as yours,” Andrei shoots back, laughing.

Someone on the plane calls for him and you blow kisses down the line, letting him go.

Wednesday is much of the same, except your excitement for Florida is building and making it hard to focus. You get in some more studying before the game, text Andrei, and finish a paper while you watch the boys beat the Sabres. After the game, he texts a little more, getting ready to head down to Florida. You make sure the remind him about sunscreen before you get down there.

On Thursday, he sends a series of selfies from the beach while you sit in class, wrapped in a down coat and scarf.

You: I hate you

Andrei: No you don’t.

Andrei: I miss you

Andrei: I need someone to rub sunscreen on me

Andrei: 🤩🥰😌🤤🩳🌞☀️☀️☀️🍆🍆🍆

He’s insane and you love him.

Once class ends, you still have the rest of the afternoon and you head back to the apartment to clean up. The idea of coming back to a freshly cleaned apartment after a week’s vacation is definitely a motivating factor. While the sheets are in the wash, you empty out the fridge and make a dinner from the salvageable leftovers. The bathroom gets scrubbed and all the dishes are washed and put away. Once you’re done, you light a candle and settle into do a little self-care. If you’re spending a week in Miami, you don’t want to have dry skin and messy cuticles. You’re not even sure you’ll be able to sleep, despite your early flight, you’re just really excited to see Andrei again.

Airports are probably your favorite place. They’re lawless and chaotic and literally anything goes. Your best friend is a saint and drives you to Raleigh-Durham at 4 a.m. so you have plenty of time before your 7:30 a.m. flight.

“I don’t understand why you insist on being a suburban dad about air travel,” Kate sighs, then yawns.

“Because I have anxiety?” you counter, deadpan. Sue you for wanting to make sure you’re on time for the flight. So many things can go wrong with flying. Why not cut some of those problems off by being early and adaptable.

“You’re insane,” she says, pulling up the the curb at departures. “Have a safe flight, immediately bang that fine specimen of a man when you get to Florida. Love you!” She blows a kiss at you after giving you a one-armed hug over the console.

“Hah, thanks. Love you too!” you shout over your shoulder, pulling your suitcase and duffel bag out of the backseat. You wave once more before heading into the airport.

It is predictably chaotic, even so early in the morning, but you get through security smoothly and find your gate before going off for a coffee and breakfast. You explore the shops, picking up three cartoon-covered romance novels and a more serious looking contemporary fiction. The books fit easily into your duffel and from there it’s just a matter of waiting to get on the plane.

The flight to Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood Airport is smooth and before you know it, it’s 10 in the morning and you’re exiting the plane and traipsing through the airport in search of the taxi stand. While you walk through the airport, you look around, people watching, and your gaze lands on a familiar figure holding up a sign that says “SOLNYSHKA” in chicken-scratch handwriting.

Andrei’s face is split into a wide grin and he gives you a little wave when he sees that you’ve spotted him.

“Oh my god!” You yelp, running for him. “Drei!” Your suitcase and duffel bag fall to the floor as you take a running leap and jump into Andrei’s arms. He drops the sign and catches you, arms wrapping around your waist as your legs lock around his. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

You cradle his face in your hands and kiss him deeply, ignoring the sounds of the people around you. His tongue slides over your lower lip and you open your mouth for him, angling your head and deepening the kiss. His hands shift and grip at your ass and you press closer to him. He pulls back a little and then kisses you again, softer. Still holding you in his arms, Andrei says, “I wanted to surprise you. I couldn’t wait another minute to see you.”

“God, I missed you,” you nuzzle your nose against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. Andrei sets you back down on your feet and picks up your bags.

You learned early on not to argue with him about carrying luggage. If he has the hands free, Andrei’s always going to carry your bags. So, you fall into step next to him, practically skipping with excitement. “So what did you do yesterday? Have you relaxed a bit?” You ask as you head for the parking lot.

He shrugs, “I spent time on the beach. Mama and Papa got to Miami last night and will be here around lunch, so I was talking to them. Mostly, I missed you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “The bed is very big and lonely without you.”

“You really miss me hogging blankets and clinging to you like a koala?” You grin. “Wow, you must really love me.”

Andrei holds your hand for the entire thirty minute drive from the airport to Fort Lauderdale Beach Park, where the players are staying in a hotel and the league has set up a beach festival for fans and the players’ families. The hotel is gorgeous and Andrei’s room looks right out onto the beach.

“Oh, this is nice,” you look around the room, making a beeline for the balcony. “A girl could get used to this.”

Andrei’s right behind you, holding you close, face buried in your hair. “Better that you’re here now.” He kisses down the column of your neck, stubble scraping at your skin. You lean back against him, feeling the hard ridge of his cock against your ass. You wiggle a little, deliberately teasing him.

“How long did you say until your parents get here?” you ask on a breathy gasp. Andrei’s sucking a bruise behind your ear.

“Plenty of time,” he replies, sliding a hand into the front of your leggings and grunting when there’s not that much space to work with. You wiggle again, pulling at the stretchy fabric with both hands to get the waistband down around your thighs. Andrei’s fingers flex against you and you arch you back into his touch.

“Good,” you sigh. “We have three days worth of time to make up for!”

Forty-five minutes later, you’re both sweaty and tangled in the extremely comfortable bed sheets. Your legs feel like jelly and you’re sore in all the best possible places. Andrei rolls onto his side, already half-hard - again! for the third time, Jesus Christ - and kisses your shoulder. “Shower?” He asks, with a curve to his lips and a twinkle in his eyes that you know means he plans on making sure you have at least one more orgasm before you head out to the beach festival to meet his parents.

“Shower,” you agree, shriek-laughing when Andrei gathers you in his arms and makes for the bathroom. You laugh and soap each other up, kissing and touching and making the shower twice as long as it has to be.

Finally clean, you slip into a pair of cut-off shorts and a nicer top, ready to head out. Andrei texts his parents as you make your way out of the hotel and makes plans to meet them at the main entrance to the park. Once he’s done texting, he slips his hand into yours and you enjoy the stroll from the hotel. “Have you seen any of the other guys?” you ask.

“Not yet,” Andrei shakes his head. “Everyone is getting in at different times. It was quiet, some of the guys from the west coast came in yesterday, but,” he shrugs, “I don’t know them. Kirill and I had dinner.”

“Andreyusha!” A familiar accent calls Andrei’s nickname and you grin when he entire face lights up. His mom and dad are suddenly in front of you, both pulling their son into a tight embrace.

You hang back just a bit, not wanting to interrupt the reunion since he hasn’t seen his parents since Christmas. But after she’s done with Andrei, Elena turns to you and pulls you into an equally tight hug. “Ah, nevestka, we’re so happy to see you!” She presses kisses to both of your cheeks and you love how much she care about you too.

“I’m so excited you guys could come,” you reply, getting a nod from Igor. He’s much less effusive and demonstrative with his affection, but you don’t mind. He’s warm enough when you talk and Elena gives enough hugs for the both of them.

Andrei has his arm draped over his dad’s shoulder and he looks so happy to be with his parents. “You’ll see the fun, silly hockey tonight,” he says, starting to explain the Skills Competition.

Elena loops her arm into yours and you all begin to walk around the park. “We will look for Andreyusha’s puck,” she decides, gesturing to the giant decorative pucks that dot the park with each player’s picture on them. “By then, we will have to send Andrei back to get ready for the show, yes?”

“The red carpet arrivals, right,” you agree, smiling to yourself at the idea of your boyfriend on a little red carpet. “He’ll have to get even prettier than he already is.”

Andrei shoots you a playful glare and you stick your tongue out at him, laughing. He and his dad fall into step behind you and Elena, talking in rapid-fire Russian. Elena starts telling you about all the fun shops she and Igor had seen in Miami, “- I think we will go shopping next week, yes? That will be fun, but of course you and Andrei will have time alone. Don’t worry that Igor and I will be around all the time.” She laughs knowingly. “Kids do not want mama and papa around all the time.”

Your cheeks heat up with Elena’s implication, but she doesn’t seem to notice, having spotted Andrei’s puck off in the distance. She pulls you and Andrei in that direction and takes multiple pictures, handing her phone off to you so you can take a picture of her and Igor in front of the puck.

While you snap pictures, Andrei looks down at his phone. He frowns a little, “I have to go get ready.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Have fun with Mama and Papa and I will see you later.”

“Okay, have fun. Make good choices,” you tease, ducking away from his groping hands knowing he’s going to try and tickle you.

He calls out to his parents that he’s leaving and Elena gives him another hug, patting his cheek when she pulls away. “Comb your hair, yes?” She nudges him and Andrei nods.

“Yes, Mama.” He gives you a soft smile, not embarrassed in the least about his relationship with his parents. And then he’s gone, walking back towards the hotel, leaving you alone with his parents for the first time essentially ever. Sure you’ve spent time with them over the year you’ve been dating Andrei, but never alone and never for such a long period of time.

Luckily, Elena is a warm force of nature, so she steers the afternoon perfectly, guiding you and Igor to the beach festival proper for cocktails and to people watch a little. She asks about your classes and your family and takes an interest in your thesis project. It’s actually really nice being the center of her attention. She and Igor treat you to dinner and before you know it, you’re in FLA Live Arena, finding your seats to watch the Skills Competition. The arena is crowded, but not packed and you love looking around and seeing the mix of jerseys in the stands.

The players are getting announced and you and Elena stand and cheer wildly when Andrei skates out, both of you taking plenty of pictures. You honestly can’t believe that you’re here watching him. The custom jerseys for the game are amazing - black with pink and mint green accents - and seeing Andrei in the non-typical colors makes your stomach flip a little. He looks unfairly good in the jersey. You’re glad that jersey is coming home with him.

It’s fun to watch the guys mingle on the ice and you spot Andrei standing with some of the guys from the Metro and Atlantic. From your spot in the stands you see the group - Andrei, Ilya Sorokin, Igor Shesterkin, Artemi Panarin, and Alex Ovechkin - that you’ve been mentally referring to, with affection of course, as the Borscht Belt. Andrei’s always said how nice it was to have so many Russian players in the league to chat with, so you’re glad he has this little group to enjoy the games with.

Soon enough, it’s time for the Fastest Skater competition and Elena chuckles when Andrei is announced. You look over at her and she explains, “Andrei, so fast on the ice, but that is nothing compared to when he was a child. Running from vegetables, from baths with his golaya zadnitsa out, Geno chasing him and encouraging the bad behavior.”

You giggle at the mental image of naked toddler Andrei running rampant, trying to ignore the fact that more often than not he’s wandering your apartment naked too. You’re sitting with his parents, you force your thoughts to be less dirty.

“Was he always a handful?” You ask, watching Cale Makar blow a tire and wipe out on the ice. You wince a little - that can’t have been fun, but at least it gives Andrei a better chance of winning.

“Always,” Elena confirms. Igor cuts in, “but with a smile, so can’t be mad at him.”

On the ice, Andrei gets started and all three of your turn you attention to him. He’s got a big old smile on his face, pumping his fist when he stops with a time that’s faster than you thought it would be. You’re on your feet, stamping them and cheering for him. He waves to the crowd and you feel a rush of love for him. He looks like a little kid living a dream.

Hours later, Andrei has the title of 2023 Fastest Skater and he’s bouncing with excitement when you meet him outside of the arena. Fans swarm him and he signs everything with a huge smile. You hang back with his parents, watching. Once the fans disperse and he sees you, Andrei makes a beeline and gathers you in his arms, spinning you around. “The fastest man in the NHL,” you laugh in his arms.

He kisses you and sets you back on your feet, clearly still buzzing with adrenaline. His parents get hugs too and they congratulate him before saying good-night so they can take an Uber back to their hotel in Miami proper. It’s already nearly midnight - you hadn’t realized how long you were waiting for Andrei to shower and sign autographs. He kisses his mother’s cheek and hugs his father again, before they get in the car. His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, fingers playing with the ends of your hair, and you lean into his side, shivering a little now that it’s cooled off.

“I don’t think I can sleep,” he admits once his parents are gone.

“How about we take a walk before getting a car back to the hotel?” You suggest. “It’s a nice enough night.”

“Or a walk on the beach? I’ll call an Uber,” he already has his phone out and there’s a car in front of you within five minutes. You slide into the backseat and buckle up, tangling your fingers with Andrei’s.

You’re both quiet on the ride to the hotel, even though Andrei is clearly vibrating with energy. You nudge his ankle with your foot and he looks over at you. “Proud of you, Drei,” you say, feeling like a broken record.

He beams at you. “Being with all the guys, is a different experience. I’ll have to rub it in Geno’s face, now that I am officially fastest. He always thought he was faster, growing up.”

“Save it for dinner when he joins us next week,” you snort.

“Eh, I already FaceTimed him,” Andrei smirks, looking like such a cheeky little shit. “He challenged me to a race.”

“Brothers,” you roll your eyes affectionately.

Turns out, Andrei’s proclamation that he wasn’t tired was dead wrong and he passes out the second he climbs into bed, wrapping his body around yours. You snuggle into his warmth and have the best night’s sleep. You both sleep in late the next morning since the only mandatory event is the actual All-Star Game and Andrei doesn’t have to be at the arena until 1:00 for that. He’ll end up getting there early, since Rod is the coach and he doesn’t want to look bad in front of him. But the morning is yours to enjoy.

Andrei rolls onto his side, burying his face into your shoulder. His body is flush against your side, his erection hot and hard against your thigh. You happily slide your hand over his side, down his hip and around his front. He jerks in your hand when you wrap your fingers around him. His skin is velvety soft and you run your hand over his length a few times without any real intention.

“Solnyshka,” Andrei’s voice is a sleepy rumble at the back of his throat, “you’re teasing me.”

“Mhm,” you confirm happily. “Do you want me to stop?” You move your wrist a little faster.

“No,” Andrei groans, one arm slipping under your back and the other bracing at your hip so you come with him when he rolls onto his back. You land on his thighs with a little exhale and look down.

“Hello,” you grin, resting your palms flat on his lower stomach. His hands are tight on your hips. “Do I get to take control this morning? Are you feeling a little tired after yesterday?”

“Not tired,” Andrei grins up at you. “I just like this view best.” His hands skate up your sides and under the oversized shirt you’re wearing, coming up so he can cup your breasts in his hands, thumbs flicking at your nipples.

“Ohh, okay,” you sigh, sliding forward and leaning up on your knees so you can position yourself over him. You both let out matching groans of pleasure as you sink down on him, inch by inch. Once he’s completely inside of you, you rotate your hips, Andrei joining you and meeting you thrust for thrust. You brace your hands on his chest and bend a little at the waist, changing the angle. Andrei keeps a steady hold on you, murmuring in Russian and English.

Heat coils low in your stomach and Andrei’s hand finds where you’re joined, pressing his thumb against your clit. You moan, arching into his touch, curling your toes. “Fuck, Andrei, more please,” you babble, falling apart. He lifts his hips into yours again and again, grunting when you finally fall over the edge with a shout. He continues fucking into your for a few more thrusts even as you’re boneless, draped over his sweaty chest.

He comes in you, hot and hard, and you’re extremely grateful for birth control. His arms are strong around your back, hugging you close and burying his face in your hair. “What do you want for breakfast?” He mumbles the question into your skin and you giggle. Always eating, always hungry, your Andrei.

The rest of the day is a blur of laughter and tanning on the beach before you make your way to the arena to watch the actual hockey games. The Central-Pacific match is a little boring, and really only confirms your biased belief that the really impressive hockey is being played on the East Coast. Metro-Atlantic is much more entertaining, but you’re left a little bummed for Andrei that the Atlantic takes the win. You don’t really care that much about the final Central-Atlantic match-up and use the time to get a snack and wander the arena.

Andrei doesn’t seem that upset by the loss, when you see him after the game. He’s upbeat, full of just-happy-to-be-here energy. “That was fun!” He says immediately.

“You were so good, Andreyusha,” Elena smiles, patting his cheek, eyes sparkling with pride. “Now you get to rest. Papa and I will take you to dinner and then go back to Miami.”

“Thanks, Mama,” he says, holding your hand when you fall into step behind his parents. He nudges your hip with his and leans down a little to whisper, “there’s going to be a little party in the hotel later. Will you be my date?”

A surprised and delighted little gasp leaves your mouth. It’s not like Andrei has to ask you to be his date, but it’s a surprisingly sweet gesture and you nod happily. “Yes, of course I’ll be your date,” you giggle and there’s an extra spring in your step.

The party - all of the young players and their girlfriends and wives crowded into the suite that the Tkachuk brothers rented explicitly for this purpose - goes until the early hours of Sunday morning. You barely remember anything other than winning several rounds of beer pong with Andrei, a round of spirited karaoke doing a duet with Jack Hughes, and spending at least forty-five minutes with Andrei’s tongue down your throat in a corner of the room. In short, you have a raging hangover when you wake up on Sunday morning and Andrei has to peel you out of bed and into the shower.

“How are you alive?” You mumble, pressing your lips together to fight a wave of nausea.

He shrugs, “I’m Russian. Alcohol doesn’t bother me.”

You hold your face under the lukewarm shower spray and mutter, “damn giant man tolerance.”

Showered and marginally more alive, you and Andrei check out of the hotel and get into Andrei’s rental car so you can drive down to Miami for your week of actual vacation. The sun and salt air help your mood immediately, as does the giant iced coffee and breakfast sandwich Andrei places in your lap. He keeps one hand on your upper thigh as he drives and you can’t help but heat up at his touch. God, you’re excited to get on the beach and get your hands on him.

The new hotel is on Ocean Drive, with the beach just a few feet from the entrance. You do a little dance next to Andrei when he checks in, excited to lay out in the sun. He laughs at your excitement, crowding you as soon as you get in the elevator. “What are you so excited about, solnyshka?” His eyes dance with mirth.

“Oh, seeing you in those five-inch inseam bathing suits, of course,” you shoot back.

And boy, he doesn’t disappoint. The five-inch inseam seems even shorter on his muscular legs and your mouth waters when he changes. “Oh, yep, now it’s vacation time,” you grin, rubbing sunscreen on your legs.

Andrei takes the tube from you and starts rubbing the cream into his arms. “I could use a nap,” he admits.

“It’s vacation, baby,” you throw your arms out to the side. “Nap as much as you want!”

“I think I need to work up an exhaustion first,” he says, looking you over from head to toe. The bikini you’re wearing just barely covers the important parts and you feel warm despite the air conditioning in the room.

You snort a laugh through your nose. “How about we wait until the room stops spinning for me before you start tossing me around the bed, huh?” You smile wryly. “Plenty of time for the fun acrobatics when I’m not violently hungover.”

The first two days of vacation are spent on the beach, tanning and reading the books you bought at the airport. Andrei insists on rubbing sunscreen on your ass every hour, making the argument that he doesn’t want you to burn, but his fingers slide under the fabric too often and with too much deliberation for that excuse to be valid. You order drinks and lunch, sitting together on a towel, knees touching, while you eat. Andrei forgets to reapply and his nose and cheeks turn pink, matching his pink-polarized lens Ray-Bans.

He fingers you in one of the hammocks, the fabric swaying between two palm trees. You bury your face in his chest, his hand hidden in between your bodies. A third finger slides into you, his other hand palming your ass, and you bite at his shoulder to muffle your shouts. You’re not even sure how the hammock is holding both of your combined weight, but you’re not arguing and you can barely think coherently. Andrei whispers dirty words in your ear, “come on, baby, come on my hand. Make a mess of my fingers. Want to see you lose control,” and smiles smugly when you yelp his name, breaking off into a groan. His hand is a mess and he sucks his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off.

“Fuck,” you mutter, red-faced and sweaty. His answering chuckle vibrates his chest under you and sends another spike of arousal down your spine.

If you could spend every day in the sunshine, tangled up in Andrei’s arms, you think you could die a happy woman.

Of course, it’s not just a couple’s vacation, and you’re happy about that too. Mid-week, Geno gets into town and as soon as Andrei sees his big brother in the hotel lobby, he runs from your side to wrap his brother in a bear hug. They haven’t seen each other since Christmas and you know that Andrei’s missed his brother, even though they talk nearly every day.

They do the bro-hug, smacking each other’s shoulders, talking in rapid-fire Russian. When they’re done hugging, Geno turns to you and wraps you in a big hug too. “Beautiful as ever,” he greets you with his signature missing-toothed smile.

“Charming as ever,” you grin back, loving that Drei is going to have his brother around for a few days. Having Geno around actually feels a bit like having a big brother too, so you’re always happy to spend time with him.

“So, what have I missed?” He asks while he gathers his bags and the three of you head up to his room. “Mama and Papa say you lied and stunk up the ice during Skills.”

Andrei shoved his brother playfully. “Liar. You would’ve been slower, old man.”

They bicker playfully, essentially unaware of your presence, but you don’t mind. You sit on Geno’s bed, crossing your legs, while they catch each other up on the last few days. Geno’s thinking about proposing to his girlfriend and asks both of your opinions, but emphasises, “don’t tell Mama. She’ll ruin the surprise.”

Andrei laughs and agrees easily. “Mama,” he explains to you, “cannot keep a secret for her life. Papa is like a vault. You could not torture information out of him.”

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, “your mom was really a wealth of information about your childhood.”

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you. “What did she say?” He sounds curious and a little nervous.

“I’m keeping some of those stories to myself,” you grin and Geno points at you.

“Did she tell you when Drei was little, he collected bugs? She found his collection in a drawer and screamed so loudly he cried and said she was scaring the bugs!”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” You squint at the brothers. Andrei is shaking his head, laughing.

“Then I made her have a funeral for the bugs,” he admits. “With prayers and everything.”

The mental image of tiny Andrei having a full church service of a funeral for some dead bugs is really just the cutest thing you can imagine. “I think it’s adorable and kind,” you reach out to squeeze Andrei’s fingers. “But if you ever bring a bug into our apartment, I’ll kill you myself.”

Geno laughs loudly and Andrei nods, agreeing that your apartment will remain bug free. You have plans to meet Elena and Igor for dinner, but the afternoon is time to relax on the beach. Geno falls asleep almost immediately and you scoot your towel out from under the umbrella so you can angle it over his body. You’re reclining on your stomach, flipping through a book, when Andrei starts rummaging through your beach bag. He pulls the tube of sunscreen out and you think he’s going to start reapplying, but instead he draws a smiley face on Geno’s bare chest, grinning like a Cheshire Cat the entire time. You watch him, shaking your head a little.

“You’re going to get yourself into trouble, Mister Svechnikov,” you murmur, smothering a little laugh with the back of your hand.

“He won’t sleep that long,” Andrei waves a hand i. the air. “It won’t be that bad.”

Geno sleeps for an hour and is definitely not pleased to find the smiley face on his chest. He grumbles playfully and chases his little brother right into the ocean. You watch them wrestle in the water, taking a few pictures and video for posterity. Eventually, they mellow out and start floating, which is your cue to join them. Now that you know you’re not going to get accidentally drowned, you make your way to the water, diving under quickly to get used to the temperature and float lazily next to Andrei. “I wish we were at the beach all the time,” you mumble, tipping your face back to soak up the sun. “I’m going to need a tropical vacation during the off-season.”

“Hear that, Drei,” Geno teases. “Start saving up.”

The lazy afternoon fades into evening and the three of you trudge back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. It’s sushi at some fun, fancy restaurant Elena found. It’s walking distance, so you head over a little bit before the reservation, listening quietly while the brothers talk. It’s been a long couple of days and the time spent in the sun and sand is starting to get to you a little. Andrei keeps a protective arm around you as you walk, in tune with your surroundings even as he discusses hockey with his brother.

When you get to the restaurant, Elena lavishes the boys with more hugs, Geno especially since she’s already seen Andrei this week. “Come, come,” she says, ushering you all to the table. “I am so happy to have the whole family together and to celebrate Andrei.”

She’s sitting with Andrei on one side of her and Geno on the other, but you know from past experience that the seating arrangements with shift around as dinner goes on, and you’re right. By the time you’re two hours deep into dinner, Geno and Andrei are talking with their dad and you have Elena’s undivided attention again.

“My girl, you are going to come with Andrei back home this summer, yes?” She pats your hand and takes a sip of her cocktail.

You hadn’t discussed summer plans with Andrei, not really. In the abstract, you don’t want to plan further than June, superstitious about the playoffs. And you’ll be starting a Masters program in late August, so you definitely want to be back in Raleigh before then. Of course there’s training camp to think about. So that really leaves July and part of August. You’d love to see Andrei’s home country, but he hasn’t said anything about it. Something must show on your face, because Elena laughs lightly and continues, “he is focused on hockey right now. But he will suggest it, I know. You should say yes and come. It will be a good visit.”

“I…yes, okay. If Andrei asks,” you smile carefully. “I’d love to come visit you.”

Hearing his name, Andrei looks over and smiles, dimple popping. He can’t have heard what you said, but he winks at you and you flush. There’s so much affection in his eyes. Elena nods knowingly at your side. “He will ask, and you will say yes,” her voice is firm, tone final. Case closed, you think, amused.

Food and drinks flow during dinner and you take photos of Elena with her sons and Andrei next to the inexplicable Daniel Craig wax figure by the door, laughing when he strikes a series of cheesy poses before grabbing you and dipping you into a femme fatale pose. By the time you leave to go back to the hotel, your face hurts from smiling so much and you’ve bullied Andrei into giving you a piggyback ride. He has his hands hooked under your thighs and you rest your cheek against the back of his head, bouncing pleasantly in his arms. The movement must cause you to doze off, because the next thing you know, you’re being gently set on your feet, Andrei’s arms holding your back to his chest.

“I love you,” you murmur sleepily, head lolling to the side.

“I love you, too,” he replies softly.

“This has been the best week,” you sigh. “Can we move to Miami and just be beach bums forever and have sex in hammocks?”

Andrei hums above you, apparently giving your tried, tispy thoughts some consideration. His hands splay over your stomach and he rests his chin on top of your head, “how about after I retire we become snowbirds? Six months in Miami, six months in Raleigh.”

You giggle a little. “I don’t think we could be considered snowbirds going from a warm climate to an even warmer one, but I am definitely on board with that.” Something about the vague planning for the future, even if it’s a fiction, makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“It’s settled, another twenty years in Raleigh and then Miami, here we come,” his laugh vibrates your whole body and that future doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov x reader #carolina hurricanes

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adhd-attention-deficit-dumbass · 11 months ago

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PSA - If you are walking your dog without a leash in a shared public space you are kind of being a dick🐕

I had a period of severe anxiety especially when walking outside. Despite this I did my best to force myself to go outside once a day if only for a few minutes to improve my physical and mental well-being.

So there I am doing my little walk around the neighborhood already struggling to keep my anxiety in check, I’m almost home, relieved that the torture of going outside is almost over. I look behind me (as you do when you expect the world to pounce on you at any second) and I see a woman walking with a big dog unleashed. The dog is walking next to her no problem not looking agressive at all.

Now I’m not afraid of dogs in any way shape or form. We had a giant rottweiler growing up so I really have no reason to be afraid, but since I was already overwhelmed with anxiety this really freaked me out and I started walking faster, but so did the dog lady.

I actually don’t know if what happened next really happened the way I remember it, but I keep looking back and they keep getting closer. In that moment I remember a close family friend who got attacked and bit in the head on a walk by an unleashed dog. I think about the stitches she had to get, how she became so afraid of encountering dogs that she couldn’t take her own dog for walks any longer. Thee lady and the dog keep coming closer and I start panicking even though I’m fully convinced that this dog looks nowhere near even considering attacking. Next thing I know, I look back again and I see this big black dog running up behind me and just scream like I’ve never screamed before.

I step off the trail and sort of freeze. Embarrased but also afraid and I end up sitting down and sort of rocking myself trying to control my anxiety.

The dog lady comes over and tells me

”It’s okay, he’s friendly.”

She gives me this look like she doesn’t know what to think of me. I start profusely apologizing explaining that I just got really scared but that I’m actually fine. She doesn’t really buy it (understandably as I was starting to hyperventilate) She sort of half-heartedly asks if there’s anything she can do and I tell her to please put a leash on her dog. However rather than doing that she starts telling me over and over how friendly and safe the dog is and I just kinda shut her out just asking her to please leave. So she does. I sit in the grass for a good 10-15 minutes probably trying to calm myself down, feeling incredibly ashamed and guilty over having such a big emotional reaction which is of course not helping me calm down.

As I’m trying to muster the courage to get up and walk the remaining 2 minutes back home the lady returns without the dog and again asks if she can do something to help (which was actually really nice of her but in the moment it just made things worse as I felt pressured to ”feel better” for the sake of easing her discomfort) I kept telling her

”Thank you but no, I just need some time to calm down”

After going back and forth a bit she eventually leaves and after an additional 5-10 minutes I’m able to get back up, finish my walk and return to the safety of my home where I break down in tears. Ashamed of my reaction but also just so angry.

Listen, dog people, I get it. Your pup is probably super well trained and wouldn’t hurt a fly. I believe you, but just because you know they’re well behaved doesn’t mean other people know. Even if they know fear can be incredibly irrational and difficult to control. It should be obvious that in shared public spaces you should be respectful of others by leashing your dog. There are dedicated spaces for dogs to run about without a leash but on your daily walk where you have a high likelyhood of encountering lots of people is not that space. It’s unsafe not only for others but for your dog. Some people may attempt to attack your dog out of fear in order to defend themselves.

So please, for the safety and well-being of everyone, just leash your dog

#rant post #personal rant #unpopular opinion maybe?#just leash your damn dog #mental health #personal #dogs #dog ownership

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pbandjesse · 3 months ago

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I am so tired right now. I was so social today and while it was nice to have people over, I really could have used a nap.

I went to sleep pretty quickly after I posted last night and I slept pretty well. I wasn't feeling amazing but it was fine.

My internal clock is very good and I woke up 3 minutes before my alarm went off. I would wash my face and got dressed. I wanted to be out of the bathroom so I wasn't holding up Evan and Noelle. Who would wake up soon after me.

I went downstairs to say good morning to James, after greeting our guests. James had gone kayaking this morning and was making us cornbread for breakfast. I was excited for cornbread.

I would pick up some stuff and put things away. And James would start making coffee and things for Evan and Noelle. We had an hour to hang out. Enjoyed James's fabulous cornbread with butter and blackberry jam. They used more butter in the batter this time and it was such a nice consistency.

Evan and Noelle had to leave at 9. They would actually leave a few minutes after that. I was sad to see them go so early but they had to go pick up a roasted pig for a party. I understood. We are all so busy but I really appreciated them making the trip. And I hope we hang out again really soon.

After hugs all around James would walk them out. I laid on the couch for a few minutes. But pretty quickly went outside to sit on the porch swing. I had sat out there for a few minutes first thing this morning but it was just nice to lay down with a pillow and blanket while the sun wasn't on that side of the building yet.

James would come out to give me a kiss. They went to stretch and get themselves ready for a 30 mile bike ride with Beth (from the museum) and her husband. They are training for a longer tour and this was going to be a lot of uphill. I would wish them luck before they headed out.

I would spend the 4 or so hours doing little things. I did some knitting. I laid out a few of my projects today to try and map out what I will need to make to finish them. My puff quilt is still only half way done. I want to finish these two smaller projects ASAP. And I need to get my temperature blanket up to date soon. It's nice to have all these projects going. And it's nice to have a plan to finish them.

I would pull out our Ren fair stuff and started thinking about my costume for this year. I have decided I need a simple linen apron. Something with thin strings. I may end up making it myself but we will see what I can come up with.

I would rest for a while. Sometimes inside. Sometimes outside. Crabcake and Sweetp were enjoying the nice weather. Once the sun came to the backyard I would come back inside. I tried to eat lunch but it hurt my stomach really bad. I would have a popsicle. A grape one. And I just focused really hard on being hydrated today. Putting a coffee lid on my water bottle helped a lot. I think being dehydrated has exacerbated how bad I've felt. So I am making a very big effort, even though I'm finding it very hard.

I would take a bath at 11am. I was feeling weirdly itchy and my skin was very dry. So a nice bath and scrub and nice lotion after made me feel a lot more like a person.

I would spend a little time putting things away and making outfits for the week. I was in a good mood.

Jorge would text me to check in about visiting. I let them know that James was planning to be home around 2 so to aim for then. They said that was perfect. They would do laundry, since they are flying back to Spain tomorrow.

I would rest on the couch. I almost fell asleep but I didn't have enough time to actually nap. And pretty quickly Jorge was knocking on the door.

It was really nice to have him over. I showed him the whole house. And we would hang out on the couch until James got home. James was exhausted. It was a tough ride! But they had fun. And would go clean off.

We would talk about camp and Spain and books and art. Video games. Life. James would pull out the bucket grill and made is hot dogs for lunch.

I was doing really good keeping it together. Eating was very slow. And I was just enjoying the company and chatting. James would show us a trailer for a video game about a detective frog and we would end up buying it. Maybe I'll play that later this week.

Eventually James would leave to go do laundry. Said goodbye to Jorge and wished him luck on his travel home. And then me and Jorge spent the next hour or so talking about AI as a tool, modern and contemporary art and how so often you have to spend time and research to really understand what they were trying to say with their work, and about books and authors we love. I told him about Karen Russel and her short stories and how much they impacted me. It was just really a lovely afternoon.

I was getting tired though and Jorge had a dinner to go to. So after showing him my current knitting stuff he would call an Uber and headed home. Big hugs and well wished all around.

I was proud of myself for not feeling sick but apparently I just held it together until then. I would pretty quickly fall apart.

I took my medicine and drank water and laid down but would just end up quickly crying until James got home.

They would put the laundry away and came and gave me a cuddle. And then went to enjoy their evening in the kitchen.

They need me a potato dish for dinner. And then jumped into Angel food cake and pasta making. Since the angel food cake needs egg whites and the pasta needs the tools, it's kind of perfect to make together. I am very excited for the angel food cakes. They made them for me a lot last year and they are so nice. Way better then the ones from the store, which almost are always to dry or sharp tasting. It will be a really nice treat for tomorrow.

And tomorrow I have work! I'm doing low ropes at camp for the highschool that comes their first week of freshman year and their last week of senior year. I always like working with this group. And the groups are supposed to be really small tomorrow. But I think it'll be fun. And hopefully I feel good and can just be positive. I am going to just really focus on having a good day. And then coming home to take a nap.

I am going to go get ready for sleep now. I hope to just get a lot of rest and feel great tomorrow. I hope you all have a great night. Stay safe, wash your hands. Until tomorrow.

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aurore-parle-de-ses-idees · 4 months ago

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au roulette 2024 #2- post-apocalypse

(or, the lost company battlestar galactica au)

They jump when the bombs go off, leaping blind from the shipyard into unknown space.

They don’t land inside a star, thank the gods, but they are well beyond the iron line and deep in enemy space with less than half a battlestar’s proper crew complement, barely supplied, hangar deck a burning mess, and half a dozen jumps from civilization. They return cautiously to Colonial space and find the airwaves full of panic and desperate pleas- where they aren’t ominously silent instead.

Golodir orders another jump when they’re nearly shattered by the sudden arrival of three basestars. Defeated, they jump.

“You’re sure you’re alright with this?” Lorniel asks again, braced against the humming upper panels of the Raptor. Corunir laughs, short and mirthless.

“Alright is a strong word, but I can do this.” It wasn’t even properly an order, but someone has to go. He knows this as well now as he did when Golodir had called every qualified Raptor pilot to his quarters. “Besides,” he adds, tapping the new patch on Lorniel’s flight suit. “You’ll have plenty to worry about back here, CAG.” Lorniel rolls her eyes and shoves him lightly.

“Just make sure you come back,” she mutters.

Basestars orbit whatever remains of the Colonies. The debris of ships of every class lingers, some of it floating even this far out, clattering harmlessly off the armor of Corunir’s Raptor.

Vardamar is the nearest. He shuts off all the power he can in the Raptor and lets himself drift, hoping he is small enough and far enough to go unnoticed. The long-range scanners of the recon ship hum for hours, but all they hear is silence. Nothing on the public channels, nothing on the Fleet’s.

Reluctantly, he inputs the rendezvous coordinates and jumps- straight into the debris of battle.

“He knows all the rendezvous points,” Elegys says, hauling Golodir to his feet, hiding a wince at his fantastic bruising. The impact of the warheads was bad enough without a hull breach. “He’ll find us.”

“If they don’t find him first,” Golodir mutters, rubbing away half-dried blood. Elegys sighs through her nose.

She watches Lorniel pace, later, and wonders if she should have gone herself. She hasn’t been needed in the CIC since they absorbed Laerdan and his crew, and she’s been flying Raptors longer than Corunir has been alive. At the least, he wouldn’t have had to go alone.

They rename the battlestar Avenger- Dúnachar in the language of the old Lords- and they leave the Colonies behind. There can be no going back, not now, not with only one ship, not even with the crew absorbed from the scattered, isolated ships they wander across, as frightened as they and far less accustomed to war. Occupied or laid waste entirely, there will be no return for them. They turn then to the one thing they’re well-trained to do, jumping, striking, and jumping again, leaving shredded metal and the flesh-like insides of the enemy’s half-organic raiders floating in the void.

#au roulette 2024 #lotro #.....#battlestar galactica #my stories #neither of these are on ao3 yet bc i still have to name them lmao #idk if i'll get to the third but eh. we'll see #corunir #lorniel #golodir #bizarre au. bsg is definitely post-apocalyptic tho #vague as hell here about how exactly the cylons translate here bc that is easily three times as long #hey look i found another way to put corunir in Situations

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tatsueigo · 2 years ago

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You can't see love, you can feel it

Fandom: All Elite Wrestling

Pairing: Jon Moxley/Wheeler Yuta

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Prompt: @wrestleprompts Week 2: "It was you the whole time"

Wordcount: 2154 words

AN: Sorry for being late, but the week has been bad and I wasn't able to finish it sooner.

It's a 5+1 fic, 5 times in which Jon does something gentle for Wheeler and the latter thinking it was one of the others. The one time Wheeler finally understood it had been Jon the whole time.

AO3 link: You can't see love, you can feel it

-------------

Lately strange things had been happening to Wheeler. The very first time he noticed something strange, was as he got back to the Best Friends' locker room after his match against Bryan Danielson. The second time instead, he had been in Blackpool Combat Club since ten days, but he still wasn't accustomed to the change of pace in the trainings. The third time he had rested because of a headache, the fourth time it had been before he had departed to fly to Japan. The last time instead, he had been down with the flu.

"Guys, do you think someone sneaked in here? You all were ringside for my match, so how is it possible that there is an ice pack on my bag?"

Wheeler reached a hand to move it and hopefully find a clue on who it may have been, but he found nothing. He glanced over at his stablemates, but neither of them seemed to know anything about that. It was really strange, but he still decided to apply it to his right shoulder, getting help from Chuck to wrap it around, so it would stay in place. He stood up, determined to go to catering to take something to eat, like a protein bar or something like that. It didn't matter to him that he was still half naked and sweaty, he had to wait at least twenty minutes before he could take the ice pack off.

Jon Moxley, the actual guy who had done that sweet gesture, looked amazed at the black haired guy, as soon as he got to catering. He seemed so interesting to his eyes, wrestling and personal wise. That was the reason he had agreed on by wanting someone like him in their stable and everything seemed to be going according to their plans.

"Jon, come on! Don't stay there, looking int-" Bryan had finally found him: they were about to go back to the hotel, since he had showered and Jon himself wasn't set to have a match or promo.

"Hush, Bry. You and Lordship can go ahead, I'll stay here a bit longer." Jon didn't leave him the time to finish his sentence, without averting his gaze from Wheeler.

"What or who is so important that you want to stay here, mh?" The American Dragon followed his gaze, finally recognizing the wrestler he had just won against and soon-to-be protegè. "Oh... Wait, did you leave him the ice pack? You are suddenly so soft, Jon." Bryan teased him, giggling.

"Fuck you, Bry, it wasn't me." Even by denying, there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"And... you are blushing." The giggle became even more, making Jon only more irritated than he already was.

"You stop it, Bry, or else..." Jon flipped him off, hissing at the mocking.

2. "Lordship, can I have some suggestions over teas I could prepare for our young boy?" Jon scratched the back of his head: Wheeler had been with them for ten days now, sometimes all three of them would put him through so much hard training that the 25 years old would just crash in bed and rest a bit. Their training was definitely harder than Best Friends' and it was clear he still wasn't accustomed to it.

"He normally drinks fruit tea, I have bought him some Cherry Blossom tea, you could try to make him that one. It should remember him of Japan, so he should like it." William looked at him baffled: ever since that boy had entered their stable, Jon had been very considerate of him. It was quite remarkable how much he cared about young Wheeler.

Jon nodded and thanked him, before going to the kitchen and prepare the tea, which he easily found in Regal's collection. The old man probably had the hugest tea collection in the whole world and he could probably go to the Guinnes World Record. When it was ready, he went upstairs with it, entering Wheeler's room silently and left it on the nightstand. Wheeler would surely never think it was him, it was more likely he would thank William for it.

Wheeler woke up not too long after, the smell of Cherry Blossoms invading his nostrils. Still half asleep, he turned his head and noticed a cup of tea. This time too, no note whatsoever, but given how much William liked tea, he was almost sure it had been him. He took the cup in his hands, gulping down some of the beverage, humming happily. He had taken the right choice by asking to enter that stable: he felt really at home there, they were mean with him during training, but it was for his own sake and to forge him into a better wrestler.

Drinking the tea woke him up a bit more, so that he decided to stand up and reach the others downstairs. In the kitchen he first noticed their Lordship, who was busy cutting some vegetables.

"Thank you for the tea, Lordship." Wheeler mumbled, sitting at the kitchen aisle.

"You are welcome Sunshine." William smiled and covered Jon, who surely had an explanation as to why it had to seem like wasn't him.

3. "Guys, I'm going to lay down in my room for a bit. My head is aching way too much right now. Can any of you wake me up for training, should I be late?" Wheeler hated the headaches he sometimes got, but the best he could do was lay in bed and rest. Still, he didn't want to miss training, even if he maybe should.

"Go rest for a bit, sunshine, I'll make sure to have one of them call you in that case."

Jon perked his head up as he heard those words; it was strange, but from the very first match they had, he waqs feeling kinda strange towards Wheeler. Jon was slowly feeling more and more attracted by him and he always felt the urge to do something for him. Jon stood up from his chair, searching in the meds cabinet for some pain meds. He grinned when he found some Tylenol, which would hopefully help the young boy out. He waited at least ten minutes before he got upstairs, Tylenol in one hand, a glass of water in the other. Only after making sure Wheeler was sound asleep, he silently entered the room and left everything on the nightstand. He slightly caressed his black hair for some seconds, before going to the door. Once there, he stopped, murmuring quietly.

"Sleep tight, young boy."

Wheeler opened his eyes after one hour, had to blink many times to focus on what was on his nightstand. A little smile appeared on his lips, as he thought it might have been Claudio. The Swiss had joined them not long before and had directly taken him under his wings. The newcomer was always so gentle and caring after all. After taking the meds he joined his stablemates in the living room, sitting next to Claudio.

"Thank you for leaving me the Tylenol, Claudio."

"You are welcome Yoots, hope it helps." Claudio shot a glare at Jon, who had previously disappeared and now seemed relieved, but recieved only a shrug in exchange.

4. It was about time: Wheeler would fly to Japan the following day to stay there almost one month to take part in the Best of Super Junior Tournament. For as much as Jon was proud of their youngest member, he already knew he would miss him. He had seen him leaving his backpack in the kitchen and go to sleep, so he hadn't waisted time to find some vegetables in the fridge - no, actually veggie's snacks Bryan probably still didn't finish - he smirked taking like five of them, which he put in Wheeler's backpack, before going to sleep too.

Wheeler didn't notice anything strange until he was at the airport, waiting to catch his flight, while searching for his kindle. He smiled as he noticed the snacks and gasped, sending a message to Bryan.

-Thank you for the healthy veggie snacks, Dragon! - He just loved how considerate his teammates were of him. In Blackpool Combat Club everything was so different...

-Gotta be sure you have enough for the travel, Wheeler. - Bryan grinned towards Jon: would he really still deny it was him? Did he really think they would never understand?

"Shut up Bry, whatever you are thinking, it's a no." Jon growled at him.

"You'll admit it one day, Jon."

5. If there was something Wheeler hated, was being sick. Being sick during Sakura blossom season was even worse for him.

"We are about to go, Sunshine. Should you need something, don't hesitate on calling me. Take this Tylenol and make sure you rest plenty."

William, as well as the others, was a bit concerned, but they weren't plannin on staying out too much. While out, they took some groceries, together with more meds for young Wheeler. Jon avoided entering the supermarket, since he didn't like to stay in small crowded places. He waited outside, pacing around a bit, until he noticed a particular tree which had probably blossomed the day before. He found some branches on the floor, which he took and carefully put in the bag he had with him, with the hope they wouldn't break.

As they finally got back home, Jon disappeared upstairs, ready to leave the branches on Wheeler's cushion, next to his head. After doing that, he left him a kiss on the hot forehead. This time he hid behind the almost closed door, peeking in, curious. The young boy - his young boy - seemed to be able to sleep peacefully and that kinda relieved Jon. Jon who was still feeling the urgeof laying there with him, hold him in his arms and just cuddle. He had never felt like that with anyone else before and he wasn't even sure what to do about it.

It didn't take much time before there was some movement from Wheeler, who slowly woke back up, looking confused. When he crashed into bed he was sure there weren't branches of any type over his cushion. He took one of them and nuzzled it, inhaling the scent of cherry coming from it. He smiled happily, the smell calming him fully down. Wheeler's thoughts went to Bryan, who was good at gardening: maybe it had been him?

+1 It was movie night in the BCC house: Wheeler was sitting between Jon and Bryan, while Claudio and William were sitting on individual sofas.

They had settled to watching an action movie, leaving some comments here and there. Wheeler looked at his Lordship and his stablemates, deciding to test something; he wanted to see if he could find out who had been leaving him all those things in the past, who was so caring of him. He wasn't sure it had really been each of them, maybe it had been just one the whole time.

Given that Claudio had joined them way after the first episode happened, it was most unlikely it was him. During the movie he settled himself as comfortably as he could, letting his head fall on Jon's shoulder, snoring slightly after a bit. He wasn't really asleep, he just wanted to test and see who of them would bring him upstairs to his bed. The others all looked at him as they heard the first snore, smiles on all their lips. They had had hard training sessions that day, so it was no wonder that their youngest member had fallen asleep. The end of the movie wasn't that far away, so before worrying about who would bring him to bed, they watched it to the end, at a low volume to not wake him up.

"Who should bring him upstairs?" Asked Claudio as he stood up and stretched.

"I can do it. Good night y'all."

Jon decided to ignore all the gazes he could feel on his back as he stood up, Wheeler bridal style in his arms and got upstairs. He was so focused on not tripping on the stairs, that he didn't notice the grin Wheeler had. Laying him down, Jon ruffled his hair and only when he was about to go, Wheeler opened his eyes and stopped him by grabbing his right hand.

"So it was you all this time, Jon?" Wheeler wasn't angry, he just wanted the truth. He would be more than happy if he was right.

"I..." Jon blushed a bit, not able to keep the secret anymore. "Yes, it was me all along. I started growing interest on you from the first match we had against each other." He admitted, sitting next to him.

"You did a great job to hide it, I wouldn't have expected it was you and I am positively surprised. Thank you for taking always so much care of me, Jon."

#wrestlingprompts #jon moxley #wheeler yuta #bryan danielson #william regal #claudio castagnoli #Mox/Yuta #all elite wrestling #blackpool combat club #fluff #aew #fanfiction #aew fanfiction

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spicyicetea · 1 year ago

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So I once again got pre-occupied with my school work. I had a decently big test recently and I have two more on Tuesday and Wednesday so I’ve mainly been trying to revise. However in my down time I have done more work for the Pokemon stuff @witch-without-gender and I started [How you doing dude, hope you’re feeling ok]. I decided to make a separate post to cull the big chunky post a little.

✨So here’s the update✨

The region still remains unnamed but, from previous discussions in the longer reblogs, the region is connected to Unova and vaguely based on Canada. I haven’t put too much thought into the region itself, like it’s history as I wish to leave that to a group decision as it’s rather important information for me to decide it alone.

The Gym leaders for the region are chosen to be parallels for the Unova gym leaders, their typing being super effective against the BW2 Unova leaders. [Same as the elite four]. The types I chose are,

Fighting

Psychic

Fire

Ground

Water

Rock

Ice

Electric

And the elite four are,

Dark

Fairy

Bug

Flying

Ive only designed half on them so far,

One of the champions [This region has two] is the mother of one of the rivals I’ve designed. She plays many roles in the current main story that would be played if it were an actual game. In the beginning she gives you your starter as the regions professor is on a trip in Unova. The professor ends up being someone who works under her in an organisation she runs to keep an eye on the other champion who is rather scummy. Her organisation is framed as the bad guys by said scummy guy to keep her in line so he can keep control over the region. You would fight her as the champion but before you fight the other one to claim the title he would send you to take down her “evil team”. There you would face a second much stronger team of hers, only balanced by having a very large weakness to fairy, ice and dragon.

The rival and MCs have been a tad bit reworked since I last drew them but there’s no new context or information regarding them.

The biggest addition so far is this regions version of the battle tower, or I suppose the battle subway given I’m using Unova as inspiration for the entire region. [I do actually already have some ideas of characters who would get along/work with eachother across this region and Unova. My sister has been playing a lot of splatoon and I tend to listen to the soundtrack while drawing so I present to you, battle fest!

This would work as weekly in game battle tournament where you fight various trainers and then fight one of the leaders who has a full team and teams of rather strong Pokemon. It’s run by 5 separate trainers who all specialise in specific stats (hp, attack, defence, speed), although the actual leader has no specific stat and just builds their team around pokemon they like. Oh and they're all just different shades of autistic [I am autistic so I project onto them a lot, mainly the one I've drawn the most of so far]

If you can't tell, I adore these five. Levana is the one I projected onto the most (Oopsy) and shes designed to appear rather sweet and approachable but is feral, most definety tries to bite everything. Given these guys are new characters I'll give some extra information on them, or at least Levana as I haven't had too much time to dive into the others as I want to post this asap as I’m trying not to be inactive. Anyway, onto the information!

Levana was orphaned after the train line in their region was derailed by a wild Pokemon. Due to the Pokemon being protected and the area having no safe way to guarantee it wouldn’t happen again so it was never repaired. Being a small, at the time semi-non-verbal (not fully but after losing the only people she was comfortable around she struggled to talk to people). She was taken under the wing of the regional professor. She grew up around pokemon and were always comfortable talking to them, to a point where she seems to understand them and vice versa. Over time she gained a talent for battling as she would make mock battle situations with Pokemon she befriended around the lab and as she grew older she gained more confidence in herself and began speaking to people again at around the age of 15. By 18 she officially has her own Pokemon (A Noibat,King, and Honedge, Excalibur) and decides she has to do something with her life so buys a ticket to sinnoh to create the strongest team she can and attempt the gym challenge in her home region. In sinnoh she catches two sneasles, one being a strange discoloured version she wanted to bring back to the lab for the professor to research but she became attached to it. (Pringle and Bingo join her team) later she found a togepi while camping and she found it eating her toothpaste. She ended up feeding it and it followed her for a day before she offered it a pokeball and it joined her team (Colgate acquired) On the way back she has to go on a longer boat trip past other regions as she doesn’t like planes. She made friends with one of the other passengers who gifted her a charcadet called Wisp as a parting gift when she had to get off at her region. When she got back however, the professor was missing and she had no home to return to, after having a really harsh encounter she meets Briar, the water type gym leader who offers her a place to stay and they hit it off (they both autistic so they automatically click, if you know you know). Elesa comes to meet Briar regarding a modelling gig and meets Levana, who offers to let Briar bring her along to the studio so she wouldn’t be left alone (let’s be real Elesa is that one neurotypical friend we autistic people get somehow. She has experience with how the neurodivergent minds can work from Ingo and Emmet). While in Nimbasa, Briar bought her a cookie while they and Elesa did the shoot but a Joltik stole half the cookie while she was waving bye. She chased the Joltik into the subway station where she encountered the battle subway for the first time. The Joltik casually clambered onto her shoulder and she assumed, this was fate, and decided to try it to pass the time. She did decently well before encountering Emmet and getting her ass kicked. This however just inspires her to get stronger and she dubs him, and eventually Ingo when she meets him, her idols and she vows to beat them one day before heading home with Briar.[She was gifted the Joltik by the brothers and she dubbed him Crumble] With support from Briar she calls the friends she made on her travels and starts the BattleFest to get stronger and show her home region the joys of battling for fun and not just competition.

Thats all I have and this will prob be the longest info block about the battlefest people as she is important to the current story I have planned for the actual region. But uhh here have some fun facts about her:

She used to have a phobia of trains but after crumble basically ratatouilles her into the battle subway and she befriends Emmet it completely flips and now she’s obsessed with them. She has a model train in her apartment.

She sews small clothes and accessories for her Pokemon, Crumble have mini replicas of the Submas brothers’ jackets and hats.

She has to fight Colgate out of her bathroom because it likes trying to steal her toothpaste.

Pringle and Bingo are besties and often preform heists to steal Levana’s food.

Levana makes Pokemon friendly fur dyes/paints so she can make her Pokemon feel special and match her when she dyes her hair.

[This is all I have as of now but I will update by Wednesday and that’s a promise!]

#Pokemon #pokemon oc #fake pokemon region #pkmn irl #pkmn oc #pkmnart #pkmn fanart #pkmn bw #pkmn bw2 #pokemon bw #pokemon bw2

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lgcasami · 3 months ago

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Chuseok, Side Event 021

The flight from Seoul to Tokyo is only a little bit over two hours, so one would think that Asami would go back to her hometown more often to visit her family members.

This is the first time in over a year that she’s flying there for a holiday, though.

It’s not like she’s not close to her relatives. She has always been daddy’s girl and mom has been supportive of everything she has ever proposed to do since she was a little kid. Even her brother, who’s a lot older than her, is someone very dear to Asami, so there are no excuses as to why they have only been talking to each other via text and video calls other than everyone has been ridiculously busy. As a trainee, Asami has little to no time and money to spend on a two-day trip overseas, and even her parents are busy with their respective families, and work that they won’t turn down.

And her brother has a little baby.

Her niece who’s already six-month-old and Asami has never seen other than from pictures from the group chat. To be honest, although she misses her mom and dad, and brother and sister-in-law, Asami’s whole reason as to why she’s going to Japan is because of little baby Emi.

That’s how she ended up with a toddler in the floor, playing with her new toys and watching her smile and giggle while her dad helps her by keeping an eye on them while her mother cuts them fruit and makes them tea. “I can’t even be mad because you flew all your way here, but for the past,” Yuu checks his wristwatch, “three and a half hours, we all received quick hugs and Emi has your full attention ever since. You didn’t even talk about that radio show you’ve been doing, and I think dad asked you a couple of times already,” he complains and stands up to help their mom with the snacks. She’s smiling brightly as always, “Leave your sister alone. She has been gushing about Emi ever since she was born. Don’t you know she even cried because she couldn't be here sooner?” She says teasingly to which Asami responded by scrunching her nose and pouting, “I will have all the time to talk to you later, brother, but my favorite little Emi will only be awake for a little while longer, and her favorite aunt needs to be there for her while she can,” and as if on cue, Emi yawns big and sleepy and a little more whiny than Asami is used to.

“See, bad dad,” Emi’s mother comes to lull her to finally sleep and Asami sits beside her dad and leans her head on his shoulder. It has been a long time since they all sat together like this. “I only have to go back tomorrow night, so I’ll have plenty of time to talk about the radio show, and training, and my work at the restaurant, but talk to me about you all. Have you been doing well?”

#burn the bridge ( *• solo •* )#lgc:familycon2k24

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dearestones · 2 years ago

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The Kicker: Azul Flies Too Close to the Sun (Azul Ashengrotto and Reader)

Warnings: Azul being slimy as usual; unfortunately, no one was feral in this fic.

Summary: You catch the Housewarden of Octavinelle trying to fly. After offering your help, you end up doing more damage than you thought possible.

Classes had just finished and you weren’t keen on watching your friends have fun at their after school clubs. Instead, you wished to spend some time walking the grounds and enjoying the scenery. After having spent so much time in Night Raven College, you had become more than accustomed to the ins and outs of the prestigious high school, but there were days when you discovered new shortcuts and hidden alcoves previously unknown to you. It wasn’t that surprising, however, Night Raven College was expansive and so were the areas surrounding the institution.

Curiosity, forever your greatest strength and eventual downfall, dictated that you cut through the fields where physical education was held. It had been a while since you’ve observed the fields with leisure. More often than not, you were often relegated to either stretching with your fellow classmates or watching your peers fly high into the sky. Coach Vargas was melancholic when he realized that you couldn’t participate in his flight lessons because of your lack of magic, but he made up for it with his enthusiasm to train your muscles to be as firm and as bulky as they can be.

As you traipsed onto the grass, you saw that there was one lone student there, someone still wearing their PE uniform and huffing and puffing like one of those wolves from your homeland’s fairy tales. Surprised and all too willing to back away and give this student a modicum of privacy, you started to walk towards the wooded area when you realized just who you had been staring at.

The instant you saw his glasses glinting in the late afternoon sun and the shock of white curls messily gathered over his scalp, you knew who it was: the Housewarden of Octavinelle.

Now, what were you to do with such a discovery?

Should you be like any other NRC student and derive entertainment and blackmail from Azul trying his hardest to mount and fly a broom?

Or should you be a decent human being and leave right away?

As you pondered the question, your fingers on the trigger mechanism of the camera that hung around your neck, your decision was made for you.

Before you could say so much as a hello, Azul strode over to you, businessman persona in all of its scummy, capitalistic glory. When he was only a few feet away, you noticed that not only was his hair mussed up out of its usual style, but that it was also matted with sweat and his cheeks were flushed a light shade of blue. At first you were surprised, but you quickly remembered that he was technically an octopus and you had seen weirder from the various other beastfolk and of course, the Leech twins.

“Hello, Prefect!” His voice, as always, commanded a sort of presence that more often than not was accompanied by a proposition of some sort. And more often than not, when Azul got his way, he usually ended up with the better half a deal. However, just like his disheveled appearance, his voice wavered and his fingers trembled as he swiped his fingers through his hair. Nervous? Or was he simply tired from physical exertion? “What brings you over to the training fields, today?”

You shrugged. “I like wandering around campus when I have nothing better to do.”

Azul hummed. It seemed that the longer he stayed still and focused on something other than practicing his flying skills, he was regaining the bravado and composure that made him who he was. “You should talk to Jade sometime. He would appreciate a partner when going on his hiking trips.”

A corner of your mouth turned up at that. While the variety of mushrooms Jade foraged for in his travels were questionable, you could not deny that his fondness for fungi was rather endearing. Now, if only he could be as kind and as considerate when coordinating with the other students on other matters outside of poisonous flora…

“I’ll be sure to talk to him the next time I see him.” Your fingers drummed against your thigh before you asked, offhandedly and without ill intent, “Are you trying to fly?”

If it were any other student, you would have regarded the pompous and derisive act that he was putting on as nothing more than his true feelings. Many of the NRC students didn’t like that you were attending their prestigious school because you weren’t supposed to be there, you had landed yourself in a position comparable to the other Housewardens, and your one lone ward was known to be a nuisance at times. However, the light blue blush on his smooth cheeks refused to abate and the tremble of his hand against his chest did little to dissuade you from the notion that Azul was nervous.

You had seen Azul at his lowest, which had contributed to his Overblot, but you had never seen him break a sweat in normal affairs such as this.

Then again, you had never seen Azul sweat before.

“My word! Trying? I must tell you right now that I have flown and have managed to complete the required twenty meters for my first year!” Azul grinned, the manic look in his eyes somewhat amusing, but disheartening when you realized that he was trying to show off and market himself as something he was not.

You shook your head before lifting up both your hands in a placating motion. “I think everyone knows that you’re not one of the best flyers, Azul. Besides, aren’t you supposed to make it fifty meters for second year?”

You weren’t trying to antagonize him, but with the way he tried his hardest to stand his ground and not deflate, made you feel bad. Having to learn how to walk on land barely a year ago and then having to embrace the wonders and experiences of the sky? For someone more adventurous and daring like Floyd, it was a challenge that could be easily overcome with brute force determination. For someone like Azul… and by extension, Jade… Well, you weren’t all too surprised when Coach Vargas said that they valued their hard work and effort rather than their successes.

During your contemplation, you saw that the blue hue of his skin was rapidly darkening.

After having seen a number of Riddle’s breakdowns, you knew that could never be a good sign, differences in color notwithstanding.

“Hey! I have an idea,” you kept your voice an octave above a chipper tone, but with enough sincerity in it to make Azul think over your impending proposal, “why don’t I help you?”

The flush on his cheeks dissipated—thank goodness—but that didn’t stop the young man from massaging his temples in what you assumed was either in irritation or in awe of your audacity.

“How?” He narrowed his eyes at you through his half rimmed glasses, his arms crossed over his chest. “Last time I checked, you had no magic and had never flown a broom before. To be frank, I don’t think I can entertain a deal such as yours.”

Ugh.

Even when you were sure that there was no way you could possibly profit off of Azul, it seemed that he thought everything had to be a transaction.

“Look, I’ve listened to Coach Vargas’ speech about flight, determination, focus, etc. I’ve memorized it. Furthermore, I’ve also had my fair share of encouraging my peers whenever they needed help with flying. I’m practically his assistant when out on the field!” Among other things. Like an errand runner. Or a secretary. Or a school therapist. “The worst that can happen is that you don’t improve and I waste my time out here.”

You hadn’t planned on doing anything beneficial anyway, so there was nothing lost.

“I see.” He cupped his chin with his hand and asked, “What happens if I do improve? What do you want in return?”

“Honestly? Nothing.”

Azul’s eyes gave you an unimpressed look.

“You of all people should know how I work. You help me and I’ll help you out in return. So,” he leaned in close and you couldn’t help but think that even though he was much shorter compared to most threats you faced in Twisted Wonderland, he could be threatening when he wanted to be. “What will it be?”

You thought for a moment, considering.

“How about we negotiate terms after we’ve seen an improvement? I’ll promise to make my offer as painless and as reasonable as possible if that is the case.”

“Sounds fair.” And then his eyes—ironically a striking hue of sky blue—became mischievous. “However, if I see no improvement in my flying abilities, then you’ll have to go out hiking with Jade.”

A scream that sounded more like a bird squawking erupted from your throat. “What? Why?”

Azul shrugged, his gaze far away and distant. “I need someone to keep him on a tight leash… I’m worried that the mushrooms he hides in his room are flowering and spreading their spores around the dorm.”

Ah.

“Wait, if you think it’s such a health concern, shouldn’t you be talking to the Headmage about this?”

Azul shrugged again. “To be fair, when was the last time the Headmage has actually done his job as a caretaker and protector of this school?”

“Point taken.”

The next few hours were surreal.

You and most of the Night Raven College population would happily agree that having the only magicless student in the entire school tutor one of the Housewardens was something that not many could ever see happening. Riddle would never hear the end of it, Leona would have surely bit your head off for suggesting such a thing or ignoring you entirely, and the others would surely take offense to your offer of aid. Not that you would blame any of them, reputation was near and dear to most of the students.

As for Azul, you knew that he had his pride—just like the rest of your peers. However, he was also hard working, shrewd, and willing to go to great lengths in order to accomplish his goals. If that meant that he had to swallow his pride and listen to a student who barely knew the ins and outs of Twisted Wonderland, then so be it. At the very least, he had something to gain at the very end.

It was with a heavy heart that the surrealness of the experience was only because Azul agreed.

And it was that same surreality that faded after the first few minutes of instruction because you finally realized why Azul was so bad at flying.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to fly.

It was the fact that he was desperate—almost too desperate—to fly.

Ruggie was right. When you observed Azul slowly ascend into the sky, his forehead glistening with sweat and his face fixed into a determined scowl, you saw that his flying technique was desperate. His legs wrapped too tightly around the length of the wood, his hands grasped the handle with something akin to a grip that you would often associate with prisoners on death row, and every second he tried to fly, you could have sworn that he looked like he was only seconds from crying.

After he made his hasty, but stuttering descent back to the ground, you realized why Coach Vargas had a somewhat hard time with Azul.

For all of his determination and willingness to study and plan ahead… It was certainly a let down to know that even after almost a year or so of attending physical education class, he had quite a ways to go concerning flying. Not that you could blame him, however. Walking was already a different beast when compared to swimming and flying was another hurdle that could appear to be insurmountable, even to the likes of those like Azul.

“It’s certainly not the best, but I don’t think you’re the worst.” Azul sent you a withering look. “Don’t believe me? I’ve been watching a few of the first years and there are a few who can barely get off the ground. I think you’ve done a splendid job so far!”

His lips curled into a sneer.

You backtracked, almost instantly knowing that flattery wouldn’t get you far in the presence of a businessman like Azul. “Okay, your form is too rigid.” You pointed at how his elbows were unnaturally too straight and that his back was hunched over in a manner that looked like the fetal position, except he was stuck gripping his broom. “You have to relax your elbow and gently curve your back. Instead of a full ninety degrees, try… I don’t know one hundred thirty five degrees?”

This time, Azul couldn’t help but snark at you, his facade as a cool thinking conman quickly dissolving like sugar in hot water.

“Prefect, I am not a protractor.” His glare would have been debilitating, but his glasses were slightly askew and he was still trembling from his flight.

“Yes, but I recall that you have arms. Furthermore, your back should be slightly straightened. It’s good that you’re leaning forward, but you should still relax your posture.”

Azul pursed his lips.

“Now would be a good time as any, Housewarden Ashengrotto, to actually take my advice." You thought for a moment, a little confused as a thought occurred to you. "Didn't Coach Vargas teach you this already?"

His cheeks colored a more vibrant blue than what you were used to seeing.

"Yes, but his instruction and bluster leaves a lot to be desired."

"And my instruction?"

He huffed. "Adequate."

After you coached him and helpfully adjusted his stance when you noticed that his starting position didn't have a solid stance underneath his broom to aid in a successful takeoff, you advised that he kick off again. This time, when he flew, his flight was markedly more stable, almost like those beginner first years after their first flight lesson. Not bad, but improvement was always necessary.

Furthermore, you noticed that Azul had gotten higher, almost to the point where you thought that if he had stayed in the air longer, had held onto that confidence for only at least a dozen meters more, he would have cleared the fifty meter requirement.

Progress.

Slow going, but steady progress.

At this point, the sky had become darker, the first twinkling stars began to peak out behind the clouds. The sun was gently setting as the hues of pink and violet began to playfully chase gold and orange away. Perhaps it would have been advantageous to let Azul rest and meet up for another day if he was willing, but you wanted to make sure that Azul could pass his flight requirement. While you had started out with mostly pure intentions regarding your private tutoring, a part of you wanted to prove to him that you were an adequate flight instructor. Pride had won you over and you wanted to ride that high of finally making Azul relax and acquiesce to your whims for as long as possible.

Even if that high was to last only a few more minutes, you would gladly accept it.

"Congrats! There was a lot of improvement!" You clapped, the sound pleasant but harsh on the ears in such a quiet environment. "If you would like, you can rest for five minutes before going again."

Panting slightly, Azul regarded you with eyes that flashed with the same sort of predatory gaze that you would often associate with his two best friends. Was it out of place on his disheveled figure? Perhaps. However, you were at ease. You had helped him out and even if you would stand by your words—that you did not seek out payment—you knew that Azul was going to pay you back somehow. He may twist the benefit to his whims, but he wouldn't hurt you outright.

"Prefect, I believe that this level of instruction is more than enough. I think that I can handle my next flight exam without further assistance." He pushed his glasses, which had begun to slip, up the slope of his nose. "Now, it appears that since you've been more than helpful—surprisingly—"

You refused to rise to the bait.

The insult, as subtle as it was, was more than customary within the walls of Night Raven College.

"—I would like to reward you for your efforts." His glasses glinted in the light under the rising moon. "What would you wish for?"

You thought for a moment before a thought rushed to the forefront of your mind.

You chewed the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from smiling too broadly.

"I wish for you to fly one more time tonight with the goal of reaching the standard flight requirement while also utilizing the tips that I gave you."

Normally, Azul would have been too proud and shrewd to even think about cracking his facade at the slightest demand, but it was late. And Azul had put his body through the ringer. Not only that, but you were the insignificant Prefect from Ramshackle Dorm. Even if word did get out that you had seen him in such a state, who would believe you? He was, after all, one of the more formidable students that Night Raven College had to offer.

He let out a shaky breath before nodding slightly.

"It's a deal."

He mounted his broom once again and sailed off into the night.

It seemed that although the conversation had taken his breath away, his posture resembled that of novice fliers instead of the desperate grip that he was employing from before. It wasn't perfect, but you were sure that Coach Vargas and most of the students in Azul's class would be surprised by how well he was taking to flight.

Up and up, Azul's broom went.

At the twenty meter mark, you silently urged him on.

At thirty meters, you saw Azul was slowing, almost hesitant to move on.

Forty meters in, Azul was stalling, idling in the air before stuttering forwards.

Finally, at fifty meters, Azul let his broom soar upwards one meter above your required payment as if to show that he was capable, before zooming back down.

You beamed up at his approaching figure, but you quickly noticed that something was off. For one, Azul was going faster than what was recommended. For two, you realized that there was a shrill scream in the air coming from Azul. And three—a very important observation—you realized that if you did not move out of the way, Azul was going to crash into you.

Instincts honed after dealing with more Overblots than what was healthy, you ducked out of the way, rolling on the freshly cut grass. Not a moment later, you were all too aware of the sound of someone thudding on the ground and a pained whine.

Rushing to stand, you nearly fell over your feet before stumbling towards Azul. There, you were greeted with a foreign sight.

There, on the ground, Azul was curled into a tight ball, his breaths low and shallow. His glasses had fallen off and lay near his head. As your eyes scanned him for any injuries, you noticed that his eyes were screwed shut and his hands were clenched between his legs.

Wait...

You knelt near his head and in a voice that was barely audible, asked, "Hey, ummm... Stupid question, I know, but did you get hit? Like in the... you know..."

Thank the Seven that the moon only gave enough light that you knew Azul was glaring up at you, but not enough that you could feel guilty over the part you played in this predicament.

"I think that's a yes." You hesitated, your hand reaching out to him before you stopped yourself from making contact. It did not help at all that Azul's eyes were watching your every move. "You know, I could help you with the landing next time?"

Azul huffed in pain.

"I'll take that as a yes as well."

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sin-of-jess · 4 years ago

Text

Yami Sukehiro

This one is exceptionally spicy.

Type: Smut

Warnings: Alcohol use, but it’s not really drunk sex since no one drinks enough to get drunk I suppose

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things are always hectic at the Black Bull's headquarters, so I'll admit I was surprised when I entered the front door and found silence. It was sundown, and the room was gently lit. My captain was the only person that seemed to be down here, his large body on the couch facing away from me. "Captain? Where is everyone?" Though he had shown no signs of knowing I entered the building, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he knew I was there before I spoke, "Some went out on a job, so the others decided to take a trip to train. Most will be back tomorrow." He tells me before taking another drink from a small glass, or were his hands just that big? "I didn't expect you back so early though." "Yeah," I start with a sigh, "Turns out the job was a bust. It was just some kid pulling a prank with his illusion magic." Yami lets out a deep chuckle, "Bet that pissed you off."

"Honestly no, I'm more impressed he could trick an entire town so well they call the magic knights out for help," I answer as I drop onto the couch adjacent to him. Yami swirls the bottle of dark liquid, "Drink?" He asks. I grin, it's always fun drinking with him, "Anytime with you captain!" The last time Vanessa and I drank with the captain, it had ended in us manhandling Finral to take us to different restaurants in town to pick up food. When we finally woke in the mornings our stomachs were bloated and our head pounding, but it was a hell of a fun night. Yami had held his hand up in a 'stay down' signal as he walked over to the bar, grabbing a glass for me and filling it up. He refills his own glass before holding it in the air, myself joining in the impromptu toast, "To the best and yet worst damn guild around!" He says, and I let out a holler in agreement before letting the harsh liquid slide down my throat. I can only get half the glass down before I pull away with a twisted expression. I could never handle drinks like my comrade and captain. Yami only laughs at my disgusted face, "Ain't you used to it yet?" "I never will," I respond, trying my best to settle my grimace before finishing the glass with a repeated look of disgust. The captain grabbed the bottle of liquor and decided to keep it at his side as he sits beside me and refills our glasses before sitting it on the table in front of us. He had put a bit less of the dark drink in my glass this time, allowing me to gulp down the entirety of it at once. I shudder as I poke my tongue out, "God it's strong." I comment. He surprises me by grabbing my glass and holding it away from me, "You're gonna get sloppy too fast if you go like that." He tells me. I roll my eyes and attempt to reach over him, a small dip in the well-used couch causing me to lose my balance and bump into his chest as my eyes focus on the glass that my fingertips can only barely touch, "Oh bullshit!" I look over and finally realize how close our faces are to each other, my breath pausing at how little space separated us. Perhaps Yami had noticed how my eyes flickered down to his lips, but it was enough for him and he crashes his lips into mine. I let my eyes fall closed as I kissed him back, tilting my body more to face him. His free hand cups my jaw as he pulls me in closer, climbing into his lap to get comfier. He leans forward to set my glass beside his on the table, my body following as I focus on the warm lips on mine. He guides my body so that I'm straddling his lap, his one hand staying on my thigh to massage the supple skin. The sensation of his fingers is enough for a small whine to escape my lips, Yami barely able to continue kissing through the grin that formed due to hearing the noise. His other hand makes it down to my other thigh, massaging both my thighs as he coaxes my mouth open with his tongue. My head's swimming and I enjoy the sensation that comes from Yami pushing my lower body down so that my covered sex grinds into his lap. I let my hands explore along his shoulders and chest, one hand staying on his shoulder while the other weaves into his surprisingly soft hair. He groans softly when I grip his hair, a shock of pleasure hitting my core at the erotic sound of it. When he pulls away my chest is heaving. He grabs the hem of my shirt and pauses to look at me for silent confirmation, which I immediately give and lift my arms to help make pulling the top off. He removes my bra next and leans himself farther back on the couch as his eyes rake over my skin. I want to feel self-conscious, but his hands gently sliding up my sides and across the lower part of my breasts eases my nerves. As his fingertips dust over my skin, I get goosebumps, my nipples hardening as his fingers zero in and draw circles around them. He leans into first kiss my collarbone, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he makes his way down to my left nipple. He sucks away while swirling his tongue around as his other hand begins to gently twist my other nipple, soft moans coming from me while I lean my head back and close my eyes. It's clear he knows what he's doing as I let him play with my chest. Having enough he wraps his arms around me and moves to lay me back on the couch. I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he pulls his shirt off and slides his pants off. His thick member was obvious in his underwear, but I didn't get long to enjoy the view before he pulls all my bottoms off at once, pulling my shoes and such off as well. Once I'm naked he brings himself up to my center, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder as he dives in. He starts strong, his tongue wild as he alternated between licking figure eights around my clit and hole before wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking hard. My hands fly to his head and grip his hair as pleasure overtakes me. He's like a starved man and he eats me out, my moans getting louder and louder as my back arches. He focuses on my clit as he slides a finger in, pumping it a dozen or so times before adding a second. He curls his fingers and it feels like seconds later I'm cumming on his fingers. When he pulls away my cheeks redden more than they already were at the lewd sight of my captain, his entire lower face covered in my juices. I lean up to grab him by the back of the head and pull him in for a kiss, his face making a mess on mine. He sits back up to pull his underwear down, my mouth going slightly agape at the size of him. It was proportional to his large body, and I'm amazed at how heavy it looks in his hand as he pumps himself a few times. "You ready, Y/N?" He asks, leaning in so that the head of his dick is touching my drenched lower lips. I cry out a yes and my entire body is washed over with pleasure as he pushes his cock inside me. He groans when he bottoms out in me, his upper body leaning over me as his hands slide across my body until landing on my hips. The first few thrusts take my breath away, my body still adjusting to experiencing something of this size for the first time. As he begins to pound into me I grab at his shoulders to balance myself and even try to snap my hips up in time to his thrusts. His fingers dig into me and I can already feel another orgasm coming. It seems right after I cum another one follows right behind it, and I can do nothing more but scream out his name as I cum for the third time in the night. "F-fuck," He mumbles as he leans back, bringing my hips with him as he plows away into my pussy. With his shoulders no longer in reach, I lift my arms behind my head, gripping at the armrest of the couch. Yami's eyes are focused on my chest, watching as my breasts bounce violently along with the brutal pace the man held. "Oh fuck I'm close aga-" I squeal out as a fourth orgasm rips through me, seeing stars as I can only wail out my moans. He slams roughly into me a few more times before he pulls out, my body dropping onto the couch unceremoniously as he pumps his cock a few times until cum shoots out. The first spurt hits around my collarbone, the second and third landing on my chest before a few smaller spurts coat my stomach. The only sound in the air is our heavy breathing, neither of us sure of what to say. I finally just let the first thing that comes into my mind come out, "Holy shit." He lets out a laugh, the awkwardness of the situation dissipated a touch as he leans over to grab his shirt. He uses a small corner of it to wipe the droplet of cum that was threatening to drip off his cock before he starts wiping up as much cum as he could before the shirt was too soiled to mop up anymore. "I should wash off," I laugh out, taking Yami's hand as he helps me up. It's as if he knew my legs wouldn't work when he easily catches my falling form, "I'll help you." He tells me, my chest growing warm at the, albeit awkward, kindness he was showing me. Not every guy is still this kind after sex, but it's not too surprising her good-natured captain wouldn't leave her to fend for herself when her body is so vulnerable.

#yami sukehiro x reader #Yami sukehiro x female reader #x female reader #Yami sukehiro smut #black clover x reader #black clover smut

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comeyeknights · 2 years ago

Text

Jacen has grown a bit resentful of Ezra Bridger.

It seems like people are always comparing him to both Ezra and his dad, neither of whom he's ever even met. And since the war ended and Sabine threw herself fully into searching for their missing family member, she's been around less and less; expeditions growing both longer and more frequent. Jacen knows he isn't the only one who worries that one day, she won't come back at all.

There's a hole in his family, and Jacen doesn't know what to do about it.

It was only natural that he start looking for someone to blame. And Ezra Bridger, his childhood hero, was the logical target.

After all, he's the one who left, the reason his sister keeps leaving, the reason Zeb wants to laugh and cry at the same time whenever Jacen teams up with Chopper to play a prank, and why Mom is always so sad whenever she sees a Loth-cat or a meiloorun or a million other little things.

Everyone keeps talking about how great it's going to be when Ezra comes home, but it's been over ten years - longer than Jacen's entire life. If he's not back by now, it's because he's either dead or he doesn't want to come home.

Jacen doesn't even want to be a Jedi anymore. All Jedi do is die or disappear and leave gaping holes in their families' lives that never go away. So he's been ignoring those little nudges, his occasional flashes of insight his family has always told him comes from the Force. He shoves them away and refuses to listen. He's going to be a pilot, like his mom. The parent who is there.

And then he'd met Kas the Navigator.

Kas had the Force, like Jacen, but he wasn't a Jedi - he used his powers to fly.

Kas used the Force to guide him through the farthest reaches of the galaxy, fighting the Empire and saving people long after the Rebel Alliance said the war was over, and he taught Jacen how to use the Force like that, too.

He was the coolest person Jacen had ever met. Within twenty-four hours of being rescued Jacen had decided that when he grows up, he wants to be just like Kas.

But it turns out that Kas the Navigator doesn't even exist.

Jacen flies through the common room, ignoring how Din and Cara look up in surprise while Grogu reaches for him in concern.

He can feel the toddler's concern. Because Kas - no, Ezra - had taught him how.

He'd shown Jacen how to break through all those walls he'd put up to keep out the Force, how to open himself up instead. And Jacen had let him, because this wasn't Jedi training, it wasn't going to end with Jacen tearing an even bigger hole into his family - it was Navigating.

But Kas the Navigator doesn't exist. Only Ezra the Jedi.

Jacen drops into the cargo hold and scrambles into a small closet, half-hidden behind a few crates. Curled up between the cleaning supplies, arms wrapped tight around his legs, he lets his head drop to rest on his knees.

It's been more than ten years, he remembers thinking. If he's not back by now, it's because he's either dead or he doesn't want to come home.

Well, Ezra wasn't dead.

Some time later - probably only a few minutes, though it feels longer - quiet footsteps track across the cargo bay, heading unerringly toward his hiding place. A pause, and then a soft knock on the door.

"Hey, kid," Ka--Ezra's low voice calls. "Can I come in?"

Jacen glances around the tiny closet. "Not enough room," he grumbles; but, after a moment of consideration, grudgingly adds, "...but you can open the door, I guess."

The door slides open. Ezra settles against a crate a few feet away, looking out across the cargo bay instead of directly at Jacen. His brow is furrowed, like he's gathering his thoughts.

Jacen wants to be mad at him. He wants to scream and rage and demand to know why Ezra had left the yawning crack in his family to gape and fester when he could have just come home. Why did he stop caring about his family, when not one of them has given up on him for even a single second?

But Ezra Bridger was also Kas the Navigator, and Kas was his friend.

A couple weeks ago, during a quiet watch when everyone else was asleep, K--Ezra had found Jacen looking out at the stars.

"Hmm, those look like heavy thoughts," he'd said, and then asked if sharing them would lighten the load.

Jacen had been wondering if Sabine was out there somewhere, still looking for their missing family member, and whether she even knew he was missing yet.

He'd ended up ranting for several minutes about his missing older brother. When he'd explained his conclusion about why he hadn't come home, K--Ezra had gone very quiet. Eventually, he'd said, so soft Jacen had to strain to hear, "Maybe he doesn't think he's ready yet. Maybe he just needs a push."

(In hindsight, the fact that Kas was actually Ezra Bridger was kind of obvious.)

Just when it looked like Ezra had figured out whatever he was going to say, Jacen cut in.

"What did you mean, when you said, 'he doesn't think he's ready yet'?"

Ezra sighed, long and slow. "It's...kinda complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it!"

And for the next half hour, Ezra did his best to do so.

"You're right, I should have come home sooner," Ezra concludes. "I can't even use the work I've been doing out here as an excuse - I'd probably have been at least ten times as effective if I'd just asked Hera for some backup. I just..." he broke off; the truth was, he hadn't wanted to come home and interrupt all their lives, only to shatter their newfound peace with the news of what Thrawn was up to and then leave, again.

"For what it's worth, I was planning to go see them after I got you home. I was gonna look up Cham Syndulla on Ryloth and ask him where Hera and everyone was."

He risked a glance at Jacen - Jacen Syndulla, Hera and Kanan's son, his baby brother that he didn't even know existed - the kid was deep in thought, his face all scrunched up just the way Hera's always did (how had he never realized who Jacen was? The signs were so obvious, now that he knew to look for them), but he'd uncurled some from that tight ball Ezra had found him in.

"Everyone misses you," he said finally, accusingly. "A lot. Like there's a hole in their hearts where you're supposed to be."

Ezra closed his eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."

There was a shuffle from the closet, and then a small form tucked himself against Ezra's side.

"They're gonna be really happy to have you back."

Ezra wrapped his arm around Jacen's shoulders, tugging him closer. "Me, too. Now, how about we go make something to eat before Sabine decides to cook dinner?"

The face Jacen made told Ezra instantly that Sabine's cooking skills - and her propensity for ultra spicy foods - had not changed in the ten years he'd been gone.

"Yeah," the kid said, jumping up with an almost amusing alacrity, "that's a pretty good idea."

Ezra chuckled as he followed the ten-year-old back up to the galley and common area.

They were only a few days away from the Outer Rim, now. If all went well, he would be reunited with Hera, Zeb, and Kallus within a week; two at the outside.

After ten long, hard years, he was finally going home,

Seeing some speculation on that skeleton crew show they announced back in May has got me thinking about Jacen Syndulla, and the Empire kidnapping Force sensitive kids, and wild space/the unknown regions...and now I'm thinking, wouldn't it be cool if Jacen found Ezra first?

#star wars rebels #kidnapping au #fanfiction

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canesshi · 4 years ago

Text

the bounty | western au

pairing: outlaw!Jungkook x bountyhunter!reader (f)

genre: angst, smut, enemies to ???

plot: There's a fivethousand dollar bounty on Jeon Jungkook's head and you are after it. A few unplanned events lead to the two of you trapped in a canyon and you learn that maybe, after all, he isn't as bad as he seems.

warnings: swearing, guns, blood, fighting, alcohol, SMUT, unprotected sex (because this is fiction! be safe irl), grinding, passionate sex, handjob, creampie, mentioned sexism, lmk if there is more

Standing in front of the wooden board, you ripped the piece of paper off the rusty nail that had been used to attach it to the wood. 'Wanted - dead or alive' it said in red stamped letters, the text framing the sketch of Jeon Jungkook's face.

"You finally wanna try again?"

Your gaze shot up to Jin, the sheriff, who leaned against the wooden wall of his sheriff's office. The golden star on his chest was as shiny as it could be; he cleaned it regularly, it was never dirty.

"They put a new price on his head, after all. Might as well try again. Fivethousand dollars are enough to retire.", you chuckled and looked back to the paper in your hands.

Jeon Jungkook.

The name was not unfamiliar. His face was plastered on every wall even in small towns, the law desperate to finally catch him. He was one of America's most wanted outlaws and since he had left his former gang he raged through the country like a hurricane; stealing, drinking, fighting, shooting, cheating, murdering, robbing. He had steadily increased the price on his head with every crime he commited and every bounty hunter had at one point been after him. The money was promising and experienced bounty hunters tended to underestimate his skills because of his age. He was fairly young for being such a successful outlaw, all on his own. Along with a few other criminals he was considered a 'legendary bounty'. Bounty hunters who could turn in such a bounty were well respected and feared amongst their peers, and the reward money was a nice addition. But Jeon Jungkook outsmarted and outshot all of them. Most of the hunters were dead or had given up.

You were after him once, too. It was when he was still with his old gang. They had been in a gang fight with another gang and were vunerable, the timing was perfect. But as you almost had him, he slipped through your fingers, jumping off the bridge and landing in the shallow waters. You had thought he had died but never found his corpse, only to read in a newspaper a few days later that he and his gang had robbed a stagecoach near a big city. Since then, his bounty had more than tripled. And if you were being honest, you were quite impressed. But now that you had had time to prepare and train, you were convinced you had a chance at catching him. Maybe you were being too optimistic and too full of yourself, but how would you ever find out if you didn't try?

"Are you sure it's a good idea? He does not hesitate to kill bounty hunters and he surely learned a few new things too. That kid is too skilled for his own good.", Jin wore a worried expression. The two of you had become something similar to friends over the past months since you usually collected the bounties in this tiny town because there was less competition this far away from the big city. "At least catch all the easier targets first so you are not leaving us behind with a bunch of criminals roaming the streets."

"Jin, you're the sheriff. You can handle an outlaw or two."

"But you do it so well. Also, who would we spend the tax money on? If there was no bounty money to pay, we would surely be rich in a few months, we can't have that!", he joked, fake worry in his voice. Then, he got serious again, stepping closer to you, taking the poster from your hands and inspecting it. "Be careful. I mean it. He is dangerous and I would feel lonely here without you bringing trouble into this small town."

"I'll be back, don't worry.", you nodded at him, smiling reassuringly but he didn't seem convinced.

"When will you leave? Where is he right now?"

"I'll pack my things and be off. There has been news he was sighted near Blackwater last. I'll be starting my search there.", you untied your horse from the post, stuffing the poster Jin had given you back into your bag. You mounted the animal, tipped your hat to Jin who smiled at you worriedly but nodded back and urged the animal under you forwards.

The ride to Blackwater had taken one and a half days. You had made camp outside of Armadillo to rest before you began your hunt. You needed all the energy you could possibly get, so a good night's rest was indispencable.

You woke up early, the sun had barely risen above the horizon. The weak sun warmed your chilled skin as you kicked dirt into the still glowing embers of your dying campfire. The air was fresh and you felt confident; you'd find him today and he wouldn't glide through your fingers again.

Spurring your horse on, you watched as the city in the distance grew closer with each stride your horse took. You slowed the animal down once you reached the cobbled street, looking into the dark alleyways, suspicious looking individuals meeting your gaze and snarling. They recognized bounty hunters when they saw them. But you were not here because of them. No, you were after someone way more valuable.

Stopping next to the sheriffs office, you tied your horse to the post outside and stepped into the office, your spurs clinking with every step. You halted in front of the main desk, the sheriff and his deputy looking you up and down.

"I'm after Jeon Jungkook.", you said, slapping his bounty poster onto the table. "I was told he was seen here recently, any idea where he was headed?"

The sheriff and deputy sent each other a look before the older gentleman breathed in deeply. "It is true. He was here recently, caused a bar fight and left once everyone was fighting, then, robbed the general store while everyone was occupied. Shot a few fellars on his way out of town." The sheriff took the paper, looked at Jungkook's picture before scoffing and letting the piece of paper fall back onto the table. "No offence, but you won't be able to turn him in. The best bounty hunters have been after him and ended up dying or giving up. I don't mean any harm when I say this but... maybe you bit off more than you can chew. He's not your everyday thief." You wanted to scoff and list all the outlaws you had turned in before but you knew better than to let yourself be agigated by his words.

"Whether or not I can handle him is my business. You want him caught or not? I just need all the information you got, the rest is not your problem.", you said calmy, one hand resting on your hip.

The sheriff hesitated for a bit before opening one of the drawers in the desk and pulling out a map. He flattened it out on the table and turned it so you could see well.

"We think he headed south into the canyons to lay low for a while. There have been no reports of him in other cities so he probably is still there. He might not be alone, we don't know for sure. Riding out there is a ticket straight to hell, ma'am."

You didn't wait for him to finish. You just tipped your head as a way of thanking him before turning your back and exiting the building. Not a minute longer was wasted in the town. You urged your horse to a gallop down the dusty road.

It was noon when you reached the canyons. The sun was beating down onto you and you were thankful for your hat that was providing enough shadow for your face to be safe from the scorching sunlight.

You stopped your horse on a ledge that hung over the valley of the canyons. Then in the distance you spotted a trail of smoke rising into the sky. A camp.

You shouldered your rifle before urging your horse on. The walls of the canyon were so high they were intimidating. The trails you rode through were narrow and once or twice your stirrup scraped against the dusty orange stone. You couldn't see much of the sky, so you weren't sure if you were even riding in the right direction.

You were as quiet as you possibly could, but each little clinking or thudding echoed through the canyon. You decided that it was best to leave your horse behind and continue on foot. It was quieter and you could escape more easily if you had to.

You dismounted on a wider spot, the stone walls further away from you and making you feel less claustophobic. You grabbed a few more bullets from your saddlebag along with your bag in case you needed water or were injured.

Patting your horse's neck one last time and hoping you would be able to return to it, you continued through the canyon, your steps still echoing but a lot quieter than your horse's hooves had been.

When you smelled burnt wood you stuck close to the stone walls, making sure to peek before charging the open area. You peeked into the camp but there was no sign of a human being. You carefully walked into the camp, watching as the fire was still burning. Someone had been here not too long ago. You looked around and noticed bags and a bedroll on the ground. Someone had definitely been here shortly before you, and they would probably be returning soon. You kneeled down to open one of the bags when suddenly a gunshot rang through the canyon, the bullet missing you by an inch.

You immediately sprung into action, ducking behind a wooden crate and firing a few shots into the direction the bullet had come from. It had been a revolver bullet so the attacker was close to you, had probably sneaked up behind you.

It was silent for a while before a bullet hit the crate, sending splinters flying. Shit, you needed a safer cover. But there was nothing here. The attacker was just waiting for you to move, you knew it. You needed a plan.

You pulled your waterskin from your bag and opened it up. If you could throw it into the fire, there would be enough steam for you to move to a safer position, right? You peeked around the crate and immideately a bullet hit the edge of the crate, close to your face.

Shit, if you moved your arm from the cover they would probably shoot it clean off. You were trapped and if your attacker decided he had waited long enough, he could just start blasting the crate to kill you. You looked through your bag only finding a few things that didn't help you out now. Unless...

You fished for the red neckerchief and threw it next to the crate, careful to not reveal your hands or arms. Instantly a few shots were fired, hitting the neckerchief until it was in shreds. That's when you heard the familiar click of a gun being reloaded. You didn't waste a second and threw the waterskin into the flames, successfully creating thick puffs of steam that blocked your attacker's view.

You quickly moved into a crevice in the stonewall, barely wide enough to fit your body but at least safer than the wooden crate. Bullets were fired at you, but you had been faster, and they had no clear view. Once the steam disappeared, you watched carefully. The attacker didn't know where you were, and you watched as the broad figure move from behind the canyon wall to a boulder a little closer to you. You acted instantly, shooting a few bullets with your revolver, even though your heart skipped a beat. You had only seen him shortly but you knew his figure.

You had found him. Jeon Jungkook.

You heard a low hiss so you must've gotten him somewhere. You wanted to squeal in victory when he propped himself up on the boulder and fired a few rounds of bullets. The stone wall held off each bullet but little pieces of stone splintered off the surface and created thick dust which stung in your eyes. But instead of cowering away you took the rifle from your back, aimed at the figures head and placed your hand on the trigger. He wasn't careful enough. You could kill him right then and there, but your ego got the better of you. If you'd bring him in alive, he would be worth a lot more and you wanted to see the look of defeat on his face when you bound his wrists and turned him into the sheriff's office as they placed him behind bars.

So instead of his head you aimed at his gun and pulled the trigger, successfully blasting it out of his hand. He ducked as soon as the shot was fired but he wasn't fast enough. It was silent after that, no shots from him as you waited for his next move.

"That's it. You've got me."

You perked up at his smooth voice. He sounded like he was amused.

"You can kill me.", he said, slowly raising from behind the boulder. His hands were in the air to show you he was unarmed.

"But you'd miss out on a lot of money. They want to see me hang, they'd pay a lot to see that. If I'm dead though... there won't be much of a hanging going on. They will be disappointed. Less money."

"You think I'm stupid enough to fall for your trap, Jeon?", you hissed, rifle trained on his head, ready to shoot if you needed to. You moved away from your cover slowly, showing him you had the upper hand now.

"Well, seeing how you only shot my gun and not my head, I assume you are either a terrible, terrible shot or you are after a great deal of money.", he wore a smug smile on his face but you didn't miss the droplets of sweat dripping down the side of his forehead. That's when you saw the trail of blood on his side. That's where you had gotten him earlier, you thought to yourself.

"But since I know you can shoot well, I know it's the latter. Last time we met, you almost had me, and now you finally finished what you started."

You felt uneasy. He remembered you? How in the hell, would he remember you when he had to deal with countless of bounty hunters almost every day? What made you special enough for him to remember?

Maybe this was a trick, you thought. He was riling you up on purpose.

You had only been distracted for half a second when suddenly you were hit in the head by a hard item. You stumbled back, the rifle falling from your hands as you clutches your now bleeding forehead.

That fucker had thrown his gun!

He charged at you while you were occupied and pressed you to the ground beneath him. He pulled a knife out of his boot and moved to plunge it into your chest but you kneed him into his back, making him topple over you so you could roll out beneath him, an elbow to his back. He grunted as he spun around, slicing the knife through the air, missing your arm by an inch.

"You have gotten better.", he snickered through gritted teeth.

"So have you.", you answered, grabbing a hand full of dust and throwing it into his face. He clawed at his eyes as you finally distanced yourself from him again. You grabbed your revolver from your gunbelt and pointed it at him, ready to shoot when he suddenly pulled on the neckerchief you were standing on, making you topple over as your feet lost their footing. Before he could reach you though, you were back on your feet, your gun nowhere to be found. Shit.

A cut into your arm made you cry out sharply. The cut wasn't too deep but it began bleeding quickly. "You son of a bitch!"

You grabbed his wrist before he could bring down the blade again. Your nails dug into his dirtied skin, making him grit his teeth. He was stronger than you, but you took advantage of the situation when you kneed him into the stomach. He huffed loudly and the knife fell from his hand. You caught it and chucked it far away. "You have a lot of nerves coming here!", he sneered and grabbed your neck, pushing you down. You moved your head quickly, biting down on his bleeding hand, tasting the iron on your tongue.

That's when you decided to take off. If you made it to your horse in time, you could get another gun or flee. But you were so disoriented, you didn't know which way you had come from. Jungkook recovered behind you, so you decided to just run, no matter what direction.

You ran as fast as you could but your could hear his fast footsteps behind you, catching up with you.

You scrambled up a canyon wall that had been carved into a stair-like formation by the waters a few million years ago. Jungkook followed you without a problem. His stamina was way better than yours.

Once you were on top of the stone platform and you could overlook the maze like crevices, Jungkook caught up to you.

The two of you were standing in front of each other. Chests heaving.

"This ends here. One of us is going to die. And if I think about it, It might as well be you."

He lurched forward grabbing your body and pressing you into the ground. He raised a fist, wanting to knock you out but you moved your head to the side, his fist meeting the stone beneath you. You tried pushing him off of you and ended up changing positions with him, straddling him, before he tried pushing you down again.

But as he grabbed your hips, pushing you off of his stomach, your back didn't meet the hard ground. It was met with breezy nothingness as your body slipped off the edge. His body was inevitable pulled down with yours, your hands clamped down on his shirt. Your mouth was open in a scream as you fell but no noises came out.

It felt like you were falling for hours, hands still clinging onto Jungkook's larger frame.

Hitting the ground was painless and everything went black not even a second later.

Your eyes peeled open slowly. There was dust, dried blood, sweat and tears. You could barely see.

Your nose was running and you didn't kow if it was tears or blood.

How in god's name were you alive? Were you even alive?

You carefully moved your arms under you, pushing yourself up from the ground. Your head was throbbing painfully and little stones dug into your palms as you looked around.

Jungkook's body laid a few feet away, head slumped against his chest as he sat up against the canyon wall. He had probably woken up and moved to sit up against it before falling unconscious again.

You groaned as you pushed yourself to your feet, moving over to his body. You gently pushed against his legs with your boot, trying to wake him... or check if he was still alive. He looked horrible. Clothes ragged and dusty all over. His once jet black hair was matted and coated with brownish dust. You probably didn't look any better.

You kicked him again, a little harsher this time and a low groan escaped his throat as he lifted his head slightly. He struggled to open his eyes, the sun blinding him as he looked up at you.

"I was hoping you had died.", he rasped.

"Well, it seems like we're both still alive."

"Not for much longer.", he scoffed bitterly. That's when you took in your surroundings for the first time. The two of you were trapped inside a crevice in the canyon, barely wide enough for a whole body to lay flat, it was a few metres long in length. The more devastating part was that there was no exit or way up. The two of you were trapped down here. "Shit.", you murmored.

"If you still want to kill me, do it now. At least I won't have to starve to death.", he said, gasping as he sat up straighter against the stone wall.

"No-... There has to be a way out. We could-... climb up?"

"And how are you going to do that? The stone is too smooth, there are no ledges to grip onto. And even if you did make it up a few metres, if you fell, you'd only injure yourself more."

"Oh, so you just want to give up and die?", you scoffed.

"Unless you have a realistic escape plan, then yes, that's the only thing left for us to do."

You felt your head throb again painfully. You should have listened to Jin. This had been a dumb idea. Anyone smarter than you would've just given up after escaping with your life last time but no- you just had to try it again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Ah- fuck-" Your gaze dropped to Jungkook whose face was scrunched up in pain as he moved slightly. A hand was pressed to his side where you had shot him earlier. You didn't know how bad the wound was but it couldn't have been too deep considering he was still alive and not bleeding out. "I can't believe you really got me. I was slacking."

How he felt the need to talk to you was beyond you. You were his enemy but still - he was talking to you like you were an old aquaintance. You wanted to feel hatred towards him but it seemed like every bit of anger had left you. There was no point in fighting anyway - you'd both die down here.

"Let me see.", you forced out, kneeling down next to the man and trying to move his hand away from the injury. He didn't stop you but he seemed taken aback, eyes glued to yours as you pulled the button up shirt from his pants, careful to not irritate the wound too much. Once you had clear view of the gash, you inspected it. The bullet had only grazed him but it still left a decent gash on his side, skin ripped with ragged edges. It would take some time to heal and would probably leave a nasty scar, but what did it matter anyway? Neither of you would be alive then. How much you wished for one of those new devices you had read about in the newspaper - a telephone? Was that what they were called?

You went to grab something from your bag but it was no longer laying against you hip. Had it ripped off while fighting Jungkook? You looked around and saw the brown bag lying a few metres away. Thank god! Your bag was your ticket for living at least a few days longer. Dried meat and a small emergency flask of water could grant you enough time to think about all the times you had fucked up in your life or what desicions led you to be trapped here. Great.

You stood up to grab it and Jungkook followed your figure with curious eyes. He looked younger now that you really took him in. A boyish gleam in his eyes, though matted because of the circumstances. He was definitely not ugly either. If he had chosen a different life, you might have even bedded him.

What nonsense. You couldn't change a thing about the past and that was that. Thinking of all the possibilities if things had been different was wasted time.

You returned to Jungkooks side, fishing for a herb from the inside of your bag. You stuck it in your mouth, chewing it up into a paste before spitting it onto your fingers. "I know I'll die anyway but I'd appreciate it if you didn't give me an infection."

You just rolled your eyes as you applied the paste to the wound making him hiss slightly. You needed something to bandage the wound with but your neckerchief had been left behind at Jungkook's camp and was ripped apart anyway. You noticed that he was wearing one around his neck and went to untie it, hands combing through his slightly long black hair to get the knot loose. You didn't realize how close you were to him until you felt his warm breath on your own face. His eyes were locked to yours as he searched for something in them. Your brows furrowed and you quickly pulled back, unfolding the neckerchief and roling it into a bandage to tie around his waist. The fabric was barely long enough to actually be tied together but you managed, even though you must have hurt hime quite a bit in the process.

"Didn't take you to be such a whiny boy.", you said jokingly.

He didn't answer, only inspecting the bandage around his middle. You opened up the waterskin and poured it over his face earning a displeased grunt from Jungkook. You wiped the dirt, grime and blood from his face with your hands. "I could have done that myself, you know?" You poured a little water into your hands, cleaning your own face, being careful to only use as little water as possible.

"Why are you bandaging me up? Afraid you'll go to hell if you don't start doing nice things now?", he asked after some time, hairs falling into his eyes as he rested his head against the stone wall behind him. You had decided to sit opposite of him, sitting cross legged.

The truth was, you didn't even know the answer to his question. Why did you treat his wound? It was pointless anyway.

"Well, I guess in the face of death, people start to act strangely.", you answered, head turned away from him. Jungkook chuckled and licked his dry lips, throat feeling uncomfortably dry too.

"A shame that it has to end like this.", he then said,"I was wishing to escape you one more time. Bruising your ego a bit, you know?" He was laughing to himself, swallowing the bit of saliva his body could muster up.

"It looked more like you were trying to get me to meet my maker.", you answered, looking over to him, your lips curved slightly upwards now.

"You were better than I anticipated and I was taken aback. Didn't want to die, to be honest. You left me no choice."

You scoffed, the smile now wiped off your face. "Yeah right. You had the choice to not be a fucking outlaw in the first place!"

"Did I really?", he spat sourly.

You went silent then, watching as his brows furrowed.

"I had noone when I was younger. Should I have moped around the streets looking through the trashcans for food like the other street kids?" You knew who Jungkook was talking about. Homeless children were no rare scene, especially in big cities like Saint Denise. There was no furture for them outside of crime and gangs.

"When Namjoon found me, I was at the brink of starvation. He took me in and taught me everything I know about guns, horses and money. I truly did not have a choice if I wanted to survive."

He swallowed thickly before continuing.

"Besides, Namjoon always taught me how fucked up this so called society is. We just wanted to be free, to not be bound by laws and power-hungry people. Can you really blame us for that? Politicians and lawmen are not any different from us outlaws, they just have a badge that excuses every crime they commit against minorities."

"That's no excuse for the things you did. I am not here to try to make you regret your past but killing innocent folk is not any better than they are."

"We never intended to kill innocent people. I won't lie and say I have never killed anyone innocent but that was never our goal. We were just after the rich and powerful men. It doesn't matter now anyway. I left the gang a long while ago."

You didn't say anything after that, head resting back against the warm stone and watching as the sky slowly turned different shades of orange, red and pink.

You rumaged through your bag before feeling the cool glass against your fingers and pulling the whiskey bottle out. Jungkook looked amused as you took a big swig, handing it to him afterwards. He took the bottle gratefully and took a few big swigs, face scrunching up in distaste but continuing to down the liquid. When the bottle left his lips they were coated in the smooth liquid, glistening in the golden sunlight. He looked pretty. And that wasn't the booze talking... not yet at least.

"What about you? You had to listen to me whining about my shitty childhood, and now I'll listen to your tragic story."

"What makes you think I had a tragic childhood?", you teased, taking the whiskey from him and nipping at the bottle.

"Oh, please!", he huffed, "You are a bounty hunter and you want to tell me that you had a nice childhood? I have heard way better lies than that." You laughed at that, passing the bottle back to him.

"Well, my story is not as dark and dramatic as yours. I just wanted to catch bad guys and get decent money for it. They don't allow women to join the lawmen and even if they did, I guess we have one thing in common; I don't want to have anything to do with those people. I know their system is corrupt, only made to fit rich white men."

Jungkook seemed surprised. You were on different sides, you were supposed to represent the law and everything Jungkook hated but you were agreeing with him? He barely knew anyone that wasn't an outlaw or a beggar that thought like this.

He clutched the bottle tighter and nipped at it again, letting the liquid burn his throat. Maybe, just maybe, if things were different, if you two were to get out of here, you could start again? Get to know each other as people and not as enemies. It was foolish to think of anything in the future, seeing how you were doomed down here, but he wanted to know you. You were pretty, he wasn't blind. If the circumstances had been different he would have loved to bed you.

He shook his head, squeezing one hand into his pocket and pulling out a tiny photograph. You scooted closer until you were sitting next to him, taking the whiskey bottle that was almost empty now. It hadn't been full before, but still.

"This was the gang.", Jungkook explained, passing the photo to you. You looked at the faces, all smiling at the camera. You spotted Jungkook in the middle next to a tall man who had proudly swung an arm over his shoulder. If you didn't know any better you would have assumed that this was just a group of friends getting their picture taken. "That's namjoon, right?", you said and pointed to the tall male. Jungkook nodded, smiling widely. "And that's Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Hoseok and Soekjin." You laughed as you spotted Jin, a wide smile on his lips as he stood on the other side of Jungkook.

Wait a damn minute... wait. a. minute.

"Jin??", you gasped and Jungkook looked at you questioningly. "How is Jin in this picture? He- He's a good friend of mine and he's also a sheriff!"

"Oh, so that's where he went.", Jungkook mumbled to himself but you heard him loud and clear. You waited for him to explain.

"Jin was part of our gang but he mostly just tried to get the law off our back. He taught me a lot about who I am. Unfortunately, he left the gang one year before I did. Said he couldn't identify himself with the gang anymore... with what we had become. It's true, we were more ghosts than people by the end. I'm no saint - I know that - but I guess I never truly knew how much of a lowlife I was until Jin left. He was partly the reason I left a year later. How is he doing? How do you know him?"

"Well, I'd say he's pretty well. He is the sheriff after all, that gets you some decent money. I turned a lot of the targets in that he hung up on the bounty wall. We started chatting and then went out drinking sometimes."

"Oh, so you two are-...?", Jungkook gestured with his hands, trying to bring across his point without actually saying anything, hoping you got what he was trying to ask.

"No! God, no!", you laughed and Jungkook perked up at the pleasant sound. "Just friends. Collegues of sorts. But now it makes a lot of sense why he was trying to convince me to not go after you. He also took down your poster a few times. He always said it was because you were too damgerous and he wanted to protect reckless bounty hunters." You laughed. Imagining Jin in a gang of outlaws, hah! You would have to squeeze some details out of him!

Your face fell instantly. You couldn't. Because you wouldn't see him again. Maybe, just maybe Jin would come to look for you in a few days and find your rotting corpse in this hell hole. You chuckled bitterly to yourself.

"How much is it now?", Jungkook asked.

You took the bounty poster out of the bag and handed it to him. It was a little ragged now but still readable.

"Wow that's a new record. At least they didn't fuck up my face again with an ugly sketch." You smiled again as you watched him read his poster. "I'm sorry that you won't be getting the money now. But at least you managed to eliminate another bad guy. You'll surely be a hero then, right? People only idolize the dead. Like painters, you know? Maybe they'll write a campfire song about the bounty huntress that killed an outlaw by starving both herself and him to death in a canyon." You laughed and slapped his stomach lightly, already having forgotten about his wound. He hissed and moved away from the touch and you panicked. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry, I forgot!"

"It's fine.", he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Wait let me see if I disturbed the wound."

You pulled up his shirt, only now noticing the hard muscles that adorned his abdomen. You tried to lift the bandage but the shirt kept falling over your hands. "Take this shit, it's annoying!", you said impatiently. Instead of just holding the shirt up though, he pulled it off over his head, exposing his upper body. You didn't mean to stare but his body was carved by the gods themselves. You tore your gaze away from him and back to the wound. It seemed to be okay, no fresh blood or other substances leaking from it. "Okay, I think everything is fine."

"So you had me remove my shirt for your own entertainment, or-..."

You felt your cheeks getting warm as he teased you, holding your gaze.

"You-! You were the one to remove it! I told you to hold it up!"

"Well you did seem to enjoy it though."

You grabbed the shirt that was laying in his lap and threw it into his face, earning a low chuckle. He grabbed your arm and pulled you next to him again, taking the whiskey and downing the rest of it before turning his head to you. You looked up at his eyes, your own eyes flickering to his lips every so often. They looked plush and pink now, so kissable. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding your senses.

You went to turn away but Jungkook took your chin carefully, angling your face up so you had to look at him before placing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss.

You were surprised, shocked even, but you didn't pull away. His kiss was intoxicating and he tasted to good even though there was a hint of whiskey still on his lips.

He pulled back a few seconds later, looking for something in your eyes. "If your bounty hunter friends saw you right now what would they say?", he teased, voice barely a whisper.

"I think they would grant me one last nice thing before I die.", you whispered back, leaning back into Jungkook and capturing his lips in a more heated kiss. His tongue slid against your mouth and you opened it instantly, letting his greedy tongue explore your wet mouth. You moaned as Jungkook grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap so he didn't have to crane his neck to the side. You fit into his lap like you belonged there, like you were meant to sit there at all times.

What on earth were you doing?

But did it matter? If you were to die soon, you'd at least be able to boast to the demons of hell that you had fucked Jeon Jungkook.

You ground yourself into his lap and he moaned, almost desperately, as your crotch prerssed against his growing hardness. You felt blood rush to your middle, throbbing in need, at the feeling of his hardening member. He pawed at your shirt, pulling it from your pants and pulling it off your body swiftly. His lips found your neck and colarbones in an instant and didn't miss the opportunity to mark you. He was sucking and biting your skin as you threw your head back, hands tangled into the long curly strands in the back of his head. You kept grinding into his crotch, wanting to hear him moan and hiss.

"Fuck-... If you keep going at it like that, I'll cum in my pants."

"We better get them off then.", you answered, feeling for the buttons and popping them open one after the other. You palmed his hardness through his pants before trying to slide them down further, which wasn't possible due to him sitting on the ground. Instead, Jungkook grabbed his shirt that was by his side, threw it on the ground behind you and gently lowered your back onto it, making sure to not hurt you. Once he was towering over you, you slid his pants down further along with his underwear, grabbing the throbbing and hot member. The skin was silky smooth and precum was already leaking from the red tip. You spat into your hand to make the glide easier and started stroking him. Jungkook dropped his head to your shoulder, groaning as you jerked him off with your soft hands. It had been some time since Jungkook had actually been with someone, so he was trying his hardest to not cum right then and there.

He occupied himself with releasing your breasts from your breastband, simply ripping it open, not patient enough to unravel it slowly. His mouth found your breasts as he kissed them all over, tongue flicking the hardened nubs. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter as he kissed and licked your body. God, he probably didn't even know what he was doing to you. Oblivious to the mess that coated the inside of your underwear.

You let go of his hardness as he kissed lower and lower, reaching your pants and unbottoning them slowly. He kissed each newly revealed part of skin before pulling off your boots and then the rest of your pants along with your underwear.

"Fuck. I have barely started and you are already soaking wet.", he groaned, lips exploring your hips and thighs. He was growing impatient, you could sense the urgeness in his kisses and touches.

His hands glided up your body again, reaching your breasts and squeezing them gently. He places open mouthed kisses against your mouth, licking into it hungrily. His wet, hot length was pressed against you as he settled in between your legs. "Fuck, you are so pretty, wanted to fuck you since last time you tried to catch me." You groaned at his confession. So he truly did remember you from last time you were trying to kill him.

"Wondered what you'd look like beneath me instead of behind a gun. Screaming my name in esctasy and not anger."

He kissed you gently before grabbing his length and running the silky head through your wet folds, passing by your clit and making you clench around nothingness. "Wanna make you cum. Cry out my name and cling to my body."

You moaned at his dirty words, feeling his head press into your entrance. "You want it?", he asked, kissing your lips and biting the lower one. "Fuck yes, Jungkook. Fuck me, please!"

He didn't waste any longer and burried himself into you deeply. Both of you groaned as he pushed into you until you couldn't take more of him. He was balls deep in you, your walls pulsing around him as he moved slightly. He gave you time to adjust to his size before starting a rythm that felt right for him. You locked your legs behind his hips, pushing him deeper into you with weath thrust. He was setting your body on fire, his length hitting all the right spots inside you.

You moaned and pulled his face into the crook of your neck, holding him so close you didn't know where his body ended and yours began. You could feel tiny stones digging into your back through the shirt he had laid down but you couldn't care less. He was panting next to your ear, skin burning up against you as he fastened his rythm. "Oh fuck- fuck. You feel so good around me. Such a tight little cunt-" You couldn't even respond because you were lost in the feeling of him pushing against your cervix with every thrust. It made you feel so full of him.

He hoisted his body onto his forearm, muscles flexing and giving you a nice view. He took two fingers and brought them to your mouth, making you suck on them. When he was satisfied with your work, he pulled them out, snaking the two digits between your bodies and finally findiny your clit. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan when he drew circles onto the sensitive nub. You clenched around him tightly and he grunted in response. With his fingers working away at your clit, you were barreling towards your orgasm. You wanted to tell him how good he made you feel, how the drag of his cock set your walls on fire and how you were close, so fucking close. But instead only breathy moans left your throat, gripping at his body tightly, as if you were afraid to slip over the edge because you knew it would be overwhelming.

"You- shit, you keep getting tighter. I'm not gonna last long with this tight cunt.", he announced, his rhythm faltering.

"Jungkook- fuck, I'm gonna-", you were silenced as you tipped over the edge, the pleasure almost too much for you to handle. You clenched hard around him, making it almost impossible for Jungkook to keep fucking into you. But he only needed two more thrusts before he was following you into his own high. A throaty groan left him, as he pressed himself into you as far as he could, pulling out only a bit before slamming back in, his release filling you up.

The both of you slowly calmed down, panting heavily against each other's mouths. He kissed you passionatley, moving to your jawline and down your throat. When he pulled back and looked at you, you gently moved the dark strands of sweaty hair out of his face. His eyes were locked with yours and you couldn't help but feel the warmth in your stomach as he looked down at you so lovingly. He proceeded to pull out, his release leaking out of you.

You helped each other dress. No word was spoken, but it wasn't awkward. Both of you still feeling the afterglow of an amazing orgasm.

That's when you head the sounds of hooves on hard stone. Jungkook quickly pulled your body to his, shielding you from the figure that leaned over the edge and peered down at the two of you.

"What in the world-... at least you're alive, I guess."

"Soekjin!?"

Jin had managed to pull Jungkook and you out with the lasso he had brought. The rough rope left slight burns on your skin but you figured it was better than starving to death down there.

While you were reliefed to see your friend, you were also confused as to how he had found you or why he was here in the first place.

"I wanted to help you catch he criminal!", Jin quickly said, grabbing onto Jungkook as if he hadn't casually been standing next to him the entire time. It made sense though. Jin didn't know that you knew of his history with the young outlaw.

"Jin drop the act. I wanna know why exactly you never told me that you were in a gang?!", you said, drinking from Jin's water bottle greedily. He choked on nothing and quickly turned to Jungkook who sheepishly grinned back at him. His ears turned six shades redder as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I- I thought it wouldn't bee such a good idea to tell a bounty hunter I was part of Jeon's gang. Who knows what you'd have done to me!", he joked. You scoffed.

"But seriously Hyung, what were you doing out here?", Jungkook piped up.

"Well both of my friends were gonna rip each other apart, couldn't let that happen right?", he laughed before suddenly frowning deeply. "Wait a minute... Wait a goddamn minute! Why the hell aren't the two of you ripping each other apart?"

"Believe me, we were, before we fell down into the ravine."

Jin eyed you suspiciously as he took note of your develished states... from all the fighting, of course!

He didn't question it any further.

The three of you proceed to get your horse that you had left behind as it was currently grazing peacefully. You were sat behind the saddle because Jungkook insisted on taking the reigns. Your arms were holding onto his tiny waist, feeling his muscles through his shirt. He was going to be the death of you. You were careful not to touch his injury, though it could not have been hurting too bad considering how he had fucked you earlier.

Jin had suggested bringing Jungkook to town and treating his wounds before he got going again. You had insited that you should get the fivethousand dollar since you technically were about to turn Jungkook in. Jin had protested to say the least.

As you were halfway there, Jungkook stopped the horse suddenly, making Jin, who had been riding ahead, stop as well and looking over his shoulder questioningly. If you had been able to see Jungkook's face you might have been able to predict his next move but since you couldn't you were more than surprised when he suddenly pushed you off the horse.

"Jungkook what the hell-", you said as you landed in the dirt, shoulder aching slightly.

"Sorry, I think it is better this way.", he grinned. "Also, where would be the fun in just staying? You'll seek me out again. My bounty will keep increasing for sure." A smirk was plastered on his lips as he urged the horse forward. "Until we meet again. I'm looking forward to it."

And with that he was gone. His figure disappearing into the darkness of the night. You couldn't even be mad at him. He had managed to escape from you in the end after all. You smiled to yourself, turning to Jin whose eyebrows were raised in surprise as he watched Jungkook disappear. Maybe he was right, it was better this way, he would have been recognized in town and all hell would've broken loose. Also, this way it would be way more fun.

You chuckled to yourself before you made a devastating realization.

"That fucker just took off with MY horse!"

419 notes · View notes

mardereads19 · 3 years ago

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Elriel Propaganda, YAY!

Hey hey! I usually don’t do this, but since a Gwynriel really wanted to debate with me on the comments of one of my posts (though they swore this was not about the ships), then I might as well do it on its own post so that all my elriel besties rest assured. 😌

It is long, but I assure you it is worth it. (You will also get an Elriel breakdown!!! Fun!)

They said: ‘places the necklace around Elain's neck we see him mention his scars e.g. 'Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin.' and 'Such terrible things that it was a scarilege for his fingers to skin, taunting her with his presence', however, in the same chapter while he teaches Gwyn how to hold the sword he does not mention his scars once.

doesn't think about his insecurities with her

I say: This one is easy to counter argument: Azriel doesn’t think about his scars because he doesn’t care what Gwyn thinks about them or even himself, for that matter. People get nervous/self-conscious around the people they like or want to impress. Azriel doesn’t need or wants to impress Gwyn. Why should he care about what she thinks of his scars? About him?

And for all you say about him not “thinking about his insecurities with her” you forget how uncomfortable he was during that meeting. The man wanted to leave.

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running, Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night.

The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was.

“Fine," he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. "It was nice." / Not much better.

She opened her mouth to ask more, but he didn't feel like explaining. Or demonstrating, since that was surely what she'd ask next. So Az jerked his chin to the sword dangling from her hand. "Try cutting the ribbon again.”

…grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson.

Compare that interaction to this one:

Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly?”

He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.”

“That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“It is sometimes,” Azriel said. Cassian tore his relentless attention from Nesta long enough to nod his agreement. “If you are caught in a storm, if the current drops away. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before we’re out of swaddling.”

Regard how Azriel did not shy away from Elain’s questions. He did not even debate answering her. He was comfortable with her asking questions. In fact, below you’ll see it was mostly him who spoke to her.

Self-conscious does not mean uncomfortable before anyone brings it up.

They said: 1. Also it's a common theme with mates in the ACOTAR series for them to be drawn to one another, we see this with Rhys ('Maybe that's why i couldn't keep away'), Cassian ('Because i couldn't stay away'), Lucien ('That was all he wanted-to see Elain only once') and even Elain ('The half step she took towards the stairs-as if to speak to him. Stop him'). with Azriel we see that when when referring to Elain he had been 'keeping away from Elain as much as possible' but with Gwyn he 'found himself at the library beneath the house of wind' (to give her the necklace) and 2. when his shadows do not warn him of her presence at the training ground. The shadows alert him about everything. They warned him before Koschei made a move, you'd think they would warn him if someone was around but they didn't. I believe it's because they can detect the mating bond (can hear and feel things others can't) they are drawn to her, they do not need to be alert around their mate. Oh but you're gonna say that it's because she's a lightsinger

I say: 1. Where to begin?… First off, Elain is no longer drawn to her mate. So that’s not really true.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. / Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” / I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.”

My sister rose to her feet. “I should get refreshments.” / Lucien rose as well. “No need to trouble yourself. I’m—” / But she was already out of the room.”

“I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.”

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

And Lucien isn’t always crazy to see Elain either:

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.

However, Azriel (up until the bonus chapter) has always been the one to approach Elain. Not the other way around. (Here you’ll find how he was the one to iniciate the convos)

Cassian claimed the spot beside Elain, who clenched her fork as if she might wield it against him, and Rhys slid into the seat beside me, Azriel on his other side. A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent.

Elain said, “It’s all very disorienting.” / “I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.”

“He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. / Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. / Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?”

I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.”/ “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand.

His hand is covered in scars, but he still extended it to her. He may feel self-conscious, but it doesn’t stop him.

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports.

“So you three … because you were Made, you can hear it? Sense it?” / “It would appear so,” Amren said… / But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?”

Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “I’ve never stayed in this room.” His midnight voice filled the space.” … “No,” Azriel said, not turning from the window. … Azriel remained at the window.… Azriel said, turning from the window at last.

I found Elain studying it, beautiful in her amethyst-colored gown. I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. / The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.”

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.

This was at 3 am and Azriel needed to leave the next morning, here he’s not pressuring himself to sleep, something he is doing with Gwyn in the bonus chapter. Look it up

Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.

And Elain is drawned to him, too:

Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.

Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” / She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

The whole Eriel scene in Az’s Chapter. (She takes the initiative. Good for her ♥️😌)

What was that about mates being drawn to each other?

There are many more scenes that I didn’t add here because, well… the point was made. But off the top of my head, there are all the scenes in which Azriel is the one to listen to Elain when she’s talking about her visions. (He’s the one to discover she’s a seer.) There is also the whole rescuing Elain from Hybern scene. And more Garden scenes, I’m sure. ( @silver-flames had a post of the Elriel + Garden and @izzyhavilliard has this post about Elriel Moments —includes the ones I didn’t mention.)

Azriel only begun to keep his distance after he realized what they felt for each other. Elain has a mate, and he thinks that it is wrong to pursue her after the fact. But we still learn that they’ve shared looks and brushed fingers. (Swoon!)

“It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.”

However, the “found himself at the library” moment with Gwyn, can be explained away by the Lightsinger theory (or, in other words, by Gwyn’s powers).

Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening.

You had argued that SJM wouldn’t have written their scene if it weren’t for a reason. Well, here’s the reason for his “found himself at the library” scene:

The wooden pews that filled the massive, red-stoned cavern were packed with pale-hooded figures, their blue gems glimmering in the torchlight as they waited for the sunset service to begin…A bell rang seven times somewhere nearby, echoing through the stones, through Nesta’s feet. Each peal was a summons, a call to focus. Everyone rose at the seventh peal…As that seventh bell finished pealing, music erupted. / Not from any instruments, but from all around. As if they were one voice, the priestesses began to sing, a wave of sparkling sound.

Hmm, that’s weird. Azriel “found himself” at the library at seven in the evening… the same hour the priestesses (including Gwyn with her melodic voice that lured Nesta into scrying) start their evening service. The night before, Azriel notes:

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

The same way Nesta says:

The priestess drew up to her full height, which was slightly taller than average for Fae females. A crackling sort of energy buzzed around her, and Nesta’s power grumbled in answer.

It’s clear to see SJM used the chapter to tell us something about Gwyn and her powers. Azriel is not being “drawned” to her like you claim mates are. He is drawn to her for something else. Remember Azriel said:

…he found Elain's necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it. Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. / But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn't go to the market square. / Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind.”

It was not his intention to go there. He just “found himself.”

Also:

“If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.”

And:

He wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend.

Chemistry and romance at its finest. 🥰

2. Also, if you want to use the argument of his shadows not warning him of Gwyn’s presence as evidence of them being mates, then what do you have to say about this:

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. / Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. / The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

The shadows didn’t warn him of Elain’s presence either and she was literally in the other room under the stair archway. Does that prove they are mates?

The shadows also helped Azriel give Elain her gift:

He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her…Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?”

I do think they are pretty comfortable with Elain. Especially when “they’d always been prone to vanish when she was around.” Like you said, his shadows are alert and warn him when someone is around (like how they were when Koschei made his move), which means they don’t consider Elain or Gwyn a threat. However, only when he’s around Elain, (and previously Mor) did they “vanish.” Based on your argument, they wouldn’t leave Az if there was a threat, so if they vanish when he’s around Elain, then it means they don’t consider her a threat, but the contrary, they feel comfortable in leaving them alone together.

See how I didn’t say anything about Gwyn being a Lightsinger for this one?

They said: Contrast:

1. ' she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars '

2. compared to - ' “Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate.” '

Elain is unaware of his brutal side. Gwyn has seen, heard and accepted it.

I say: 1. Elain killed the king of Hybern with Truth-Teller, Azriel’s favorite knife. Elain is not dumb. She knows it is not a butter-knife. This is a killing knife. A maiming knife. She was the recipient of these words:

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to”…“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

To which she answered: “I don’t know how to use it.” She knows Azriel does. And even more impressive, she ends up using it.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.

I love how more Elriel imagery comes up without me intending it.

It is also super canon that Elain is observant. She noticed how much Azriel rubbed his temples during Acofas and she gifted him a headache powder. Elain was the first to found out Feyre was pregnant. Elain was the one to tell everyone about Nesta’s passion for dancing and how good she was. The fact that so many people think Elain is oblivious about what Azriel does is hilarious to me. She’s the quiet observer. She was handed Truth-Teller by him. She knows.

She’s the seer.

Additionally, though she’s not a violent person by nature, Elain has proven time and time again that she is not going to shy away from violence or violent things if it’s necessary.

She kicked hounds with her bare feet.

She stabbed the king of Hybern through the neck.

She volunteered to scry for the Dread Trove.

Because she is not a warrior with swords and shields, does not mean she is not a warrior in a different way. Being bright and spreading kindness when the world wants to cover everything in darkness is a strength of its own.

And if “violent” people could only end up with equally “violent” people, then there wouldn’t be a grumpy and sunshine trope.

2. This argument is… not an argument? Gwyn was being r-worded. He had to kill those people. Just as he would have killed them if it had been Nesta in Gwyn’s place. Or Feyre. Or Elain. Even Nuala or Cerridwen. That scene is not even romantic. It’s straight up human decency. He had to get her out of there. And Gwyn had to see, hear, and accept what he did because he saved her life and saved her from being hurt further. Please don’t ever use this scene as prove of anything regarding Gwynriel. It’s insensitive.

However, we can use the:

Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” / Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. / Nesta said, “Then you will die.” / Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

And compare it to:

“Winnow me to her. Az, you find Emerie and Gwyn.” … Azriel said tightly, “My spies got word that Eris has been captured by Briallyn.” … “Az said, “We have to get him out.”

That is all.

They said: He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former glancing toward Azriel, who watched din silence. '

' Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer.

I say: Gwyn was saved by Azriel, he was the only person who saw her at her worst. It’s expected she’d be glancing at him. And he was curious about what they were doing with the ribbon. That darn ribbon. Next.

They said: Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. "See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger," she tossed over a shoulder. Azriel stared after her, brows high in amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. "You have no idea what you just started," she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. "Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?" Nesta winked and clapped the Shadowsinger on the shoulder. "You're the new ribbon, Az" '

I say: What am I supposed to be looking at here? Gwyn saying she’s going to see him tomorrow at training and Nesta saying Gwyn is going to beat the course the same way she beat the ribbon. If you guys think this is romantic, it’s not. There is literally more banter between Nesta and Az than between Az and Gwyn. The girl had left when Nesta said that darn line you guys love to use as “romantic” evidence. Nesta. Said. The. Darn. Line. Not Gwyn.

They said: ' Azriel laughed. "I'll give you that." Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed.

I say: Here again fits the Lightsinger theory (Gwyn’s powers). His shadows respond to them, as I already explained above.

But also (this is a flex):

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” / Silence again. / Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. / I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous…Elain smiled again, ducking her head. / Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

Above were compiled another bunch of Azriel smiling for and because of Elain.

They said: so much for "2 sentences" sweetheart? I can link you so many more, you just selectively ignored all these things cause you hardcore shipped Elriel and in some part of your mind already hated Gwyn. I do feel bad for doing this on the post, but I don't hate Elain, and I was an Elriel shipper for a while, but I will voice my opinion on Gwyn and the lightsinger theory, you think it's good? cool, what I think it is, is victim-blaming

I say: There aren’t many more, not romantically at least. “He snorted” isn’t something romantic. And he smiles at Gwyn the same way he smiles at Cassian or Nesta. Az is not as emotionless as the fandom paints him to be, but his smiles are only for the people he knows. Their interactions are platonic.

As you can see, I never made any hateful comment towards Gwyn. I only used canon to counter argument your points. I have absolutely no reason to hate Gwyn, her character is fun and enjoyable and her development is amazing. And I don’t consider her a “threat to Elriel” or anything similar, so why should I hate/fear her character?

I barely mentioned Gwyn except when it was strictly necessary. A lot of my mutuals do the same. Including the people who write about the Lightsinger theory. If there are elriels who make fun of Gwyn’s trauma, I don’t represent them or condone them. But it’s a theory, just like there is an actual “Evil Elain” theory that goes around and you don’t see me up in their comments searching for a fight. Also, the Lightsinger theory has nothing to do with her trauma. If there was one or two Elriels who tied it to it, they are insensitive and cruel. But it wasn’t me. And saying Gwyn is a Lighsinger (has those luring powers = canon) is not victim-blaming.

And to close off, please stick to your tags. My post was under the Elriel tag. If I wanted Gwynriels to debate me, I’d have tagged them. The last thing I do is go around this platform looking for trouble, but it infuriated me that you kept attacking me and spreading Gwynriel propaganda in a post meant for Elriel stans.

Stick to your tags like I stick to mine ♥️

#Stick to your tags #Elriel Propaganda DUN DUN DUN 😈#People want me to enter a reputation Era so bad #Elriel #elriel endgame #azriel #elain archeron #elain #azriel and elain #anti gw*nriel #yes I’m censoring the ship #acotar 5 #my post #pro elriel

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

Text

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere keigo takami x reader #yandere touya todoroki x reader #tw character ‘death’#tw dub con #soulmate au #I’m not even sorry #except I am #lmao last one I promise

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sparkliingcrown · 3 years ago

Text

— my worst nightmare.

Summary: You know the saying that goes 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer?' How much closer can you get to your enemy than being roommates?

Request: Brownies + Dark Irish Coffee

Genre: Roommates AU, College AU, Enemies to Lovers

Words: 6.1k

Warnings: Lots of swearing. I didn’t hold back in that aspect. Uhm, mentions of drinking, yn kinda panics at one point... I think that should be all! If not, pls notify me ^^

Note: An Eishi Café special. Yes, this is because it was last minute requests and it took too long for me to get to and open up the café again. ALSO TO THE ANON THAT REQUESTED THIS, I’M SORRY I MISREAD THE ORDER AND WROTE IT AS A LIGHT REQUEST! I hope you still like it nonetheless... Sorry it took so long T^T Also, this is my first time writing something like this so I really hope that it fits.

You were hauling your bags and boxes up to your new dorm room by yourself. That wasn’t exactly the greatest way to start the day, considering you had to stay up packing the last of your stuff, rushing to the nearest train station, riding the train, and then driving all the way to your new dorm room for college yesterday. You didn’t even get to sleep a wink on the train and you sure as hell can’t sleep while on the road. So, in short, you were tired, hungry, and really fucking pissed.

You mocked your naive and excited self, making faces as you tugged your bags closer to your body, pulling the strap of your backpack higher up your shoulder to keep it from falling on the floor. Go to college, they said. You'll have the time of your life, they said. Who's they? The many, many movies you watched growing up. And where exactly were you now?

"Can you at least try to help me move my stuff inside?" You drop your bags at the door, stretching your arms out.

"Lemme think about it." He closes his eyes for a second, letting out a deep breath. "No."

That's right. You were stuck with him. Choi Seungcheol. The bane of your existence.

That motherfucker.

His majesty was sitting comfortably on the couch, a cup of boba in his hand. Oh, how you wish you could just reach out there and squeeze it to make it explode in his face. Instead, you huff. You turned away and stomped your way down to the elevator to get the rest of your luggage. Muttering to yourself, you hauled the last of your luggage in, just wanting to collapse onto your bed for the day having barely gotten any rest the previous day.

You were expecting your best friend, Jiwoo, to greet you at the door. You were expecting her to greet you with that enthusiastic squeal when she sees you. You were expecting her to give you a warm hug that would last probably longer than 5 minutes. Alas, the universe decided to be rude to you and give you your worst nightmare.

Seungcheol stares as you drag your bags and feet to the nearest room, raising an eyebrow when he thinks he heard you utter his name. He did not help whatsoever. Asshole. Once you get to your room, you don't even bother cleaning up and unpacking. You sank to the floor with a loud whine, not caring at all if Seungcheol could hear you from outside.

You were so excited to live out your college dream. Going to the library, going to parties you know Jiwoo would drag you to, midnight talks with your roommate, binging series you’ve been eyeing for a while. The universe just really had to ruin it for you by placing him as your roommate. You didn’t even know he was enrolled in Hybe University. It seemed like he didn’t know either. You recall the shocked look on his face when he opened the door.

“You’re my roommate?!” You both exclaim in unison.

You feel your lifespan shorten by 30 years when it fully sinks in that you’re stuck with him for a full school year. If it wasn’t enough that the bags you carried were heavy, the ones under your eyes felt even heavier. Seungcheol frowns.

“You look like shit,” he states, taking a long sip out of his cup.

You manage to send your iciest glare at him, chucking the heavy luggage inside to make him move. “No shit, Sherlock-”

“The name’s Seungcheol.”

You ignore him. “I just drove a fucking half hour just to get here.”

You kick the bag, moving it to a corner then go to get a smaller one waiting by the door. Seungcheol moves out of your way, walking back to the couch. “Don’t fucking test me, Choi.”

He puts one of his hands up in a surrendering gesture. You sigh, closing the door behind you to get the rest of your things.

You let out a groan, deciding to unpack your things a little later. Eyeing your bed, you get up to move to your bed. You easily drift off into sleep. You would’ve loved to say it was dreamless but you actually quite enjoyed the chaos of it all. You awoke at 2 in the morning, lost and confused. You frown at your waste of half the day yesterday, smacking random items in your room to figure out where you had placed your phone.

Once you located it, the screen lit up your face - blinding you a little in the process. Jiwoo had excitedly messaged you. Well, excited was an understatement when she sent you 102 messages in the span of one hour and 17 missed calls for the rest of the time you were unconscious on your bed.

Your stomach growls, shocking you. “Yeah, I should get some food then start unpacking. Probably message her back as well…” you mutter to the air, dusting off your jeans as you finish up the process of fully moving into your new home for the next school year.

You sigh, “Fuck, this is going to be a long year.”

You bury your head in the reference book that you picked out to help with your assignment. It wasn’t doing it’s job of helping. You shifted in your seat. With a groan, you lean back in your seat, not understanding any of the material so far. Jiwoo pats your back encouragingly, nuzzling her cheek on your shoulder.

"There, there," she says, running a hand through your hair. "Hold on, I'll just return this book because it didn't have what I was looking for."

With a solemn nod, Jiwoo rises from her seat. She skips away with the book in your hands leaving you suffering all alone. You mentally slap yourself for sulking when it's literally only the second month of college. Living in the dorms has not been any easier ever since you arrived. Seungcheol took any opportunity to get a rise out of you and you would bite back with just as much sass.

It was like a competition between you both. Over what exactly? No one could really tell. Jiwoo came over often so she's very much used to seeing the two of you bicker like little children out of the smallest things. This was the reason as to why she dragged you out of the dorm.

"Come on, ever since you've arrived, you're either staying in your room or going to that boba place!" Jiwoo was tugging you by your wrist while you used your other hand to cling onto your bedpost. "You need to live! To breathe!"

"I do that just fine over here!" you complain.

Then, it was just a competition of whining. Jiwoo won that one easily. Her bright, sparkling puppy eyes were too much to resist. You sighed. You were too soft for Jiwoo sometimes. You mumble, cursing the professors for giving a bunch of work already. It was to the point that you could barely keep track of any of your subjects anymore.

You stare at your laptop screen, a half blank essay staring back at you with a menacing aura. You turn your head. An open textbook sat atop several other books of the same subject stared at you too. You could hear it calling for you, yelling at you to study for the test next week. With a silent cry, you drop your head down onto the table. You hear a snicker from behind you. One that you've heard way too many times that you didn't even need to turn around to see who it was.

"Hello to you too, Choi." You let out a tired sigh, head rising from the table.

"You look pitiful like that," he comments, eyeing the multitude of books surrounding your laptop. "You need any help?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Do you need help?"

"The Choi Seungcheol is offering me help?"

"Ah, good, so your ears can work," he gives you that shit eating grin that you just want to punch off his face. You can already feel the fire burning inside just ready to burst. You feel like a boiling kettle to say the least. It's his turn to raise an eyebrow now.

"Well?"

"No way," you huff like a child, turning your back on him.

He sat across from you. It really just had to be the only fucking unoccupied seat left. You mentally cursed all the students who came to the library. Then you felt bad and instead cursed Seungcheol who just had to come to the library when you were at the peak of the stress rollercoaster, just ready to dive into the depths of despair and bad grades.

Your eyes flutter back and forth between the laptop, the books and Seungcheol himself. With a defeated sigh, you turn the laptop so the screen could face him. "Please."

That same grin never left his face, he tauntingly cups a hand around his ear. "What's that? I can't hear you."

"Old man," you retort with a snicker. Just as he was going to open his mouth to protest, you repeat yourself a little louder. "Please help me with this damn assignment so I can finish it already."

"That's more like it." He pulls out the chair next to you, pushing away the books to help you.

You would never admit it out loud but you were actually grateful that Seungcheol had offered his help. With every small pointer he gave you, you were able to fly through all of your workload like a breeze. He even lent you his notes for that test you were so worried about. You leaned back, tipping your head back as the most relieved sigh anyone could muster slipped past your lips.

“What? No ‘Thank you’?” he asked, a small pout on his lips.

“I didn’t kill you. Is that enough?” He rolls his eyes at you, returning to his own seat. Guilt started to take form in the pit of your stomach. You sighed. “I gotta go. Thanks. I’ll see you at the dorm.”

You didn’t see it. He didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t even want to acknowledge it; the heat rising up and painting his cheeks pink from when you sent him that small smile before leaving. Seungcheol mentally slapped himself, shaking his head and trying to focus on his own essay he put off while helping you. Safe to say, he never really did finish that stupid essay.

"Joo, do I have to go?" you complained, tugging your shirt downwards. It's a little too much for your taste.

"You deserve it, babe," Jiwoo replied. "You got good grades after studying for so long! Loosen up a little! Please?"

You give her a skeptical look.

"Just this once?" She gives you her best puppy dog eyes that shimmered under the light of her dorm room. She puts up a finger and juts out her bottom lip in a pout, ultimately stealing your heart with how cute she is. "For me?"

"Ugh, fine. You're too cute not to."

"Yay!" she wraps her arms around you and gives you a light kiss on your cheek, dragging you out of her dorm and to her car.

She drove you to the party, that sweet smile never leaving her face. She talked about a blend of many topics she was interested in. You heard her mention something about talking to that girl in her class. You only stared out the window, humming in response as you dreaded arriving at the party.

Alcohol. It reeked of alcohol. You just arrived but there were already so many people that just smelled like sweat and whatever was served in the kitchen. Jiwoo took you to the dance floor, which was clearly just the living room of the house with the couches pushed to the side so there's space. She introduced you to a couple of her friends. You give them a small wave. It probably wasn't the best idea to try and have a conversation this close to the speakers.

After just a few minutes of walking in, you already lost Jiwoo. She was probably just with one of her friends. Come to think of it, she was clinging on to one of them really tightly and just being very clingy. But she was almost always like that with anyone. You brush it off your mind, heading to the kitchen to get something to drink.

"They look pretty," Seokmin stated, sipping from his cup and making a slight face at the bitterness. "Wait... Is that Y/n?"

Seungcheol's ears seem to perk up at the mention of your name. He turns to the direction his friend was staring at, seeing you hover over the kitchen island with a drink in your hand. You looked bored. A little lonely too. He deduced that your friend had left you to fend for yourself. He snickers to himself.

"Oh yeah, I think that is," Jeonghan was suddenly by his side, eyeing Seungcheol for his reaction. Seungcheol pulls a face.

"What are you looking at?" he sneers.

"Don't you think they're pretty, Cheollie?" Jeonghan giggled, obviously already a little tipsy. Seungcheol scowls. An old conversation flashed by his eyes.

"Where are you going?"

You raise an eyebrow. "And why do you care about where I'm going?"

"Because I'm your roommate? What if something happens to you?"

"Awh, does Seungcheollie actually care about me?" You jut your lip out in an exaggerated pout.

"No, I- Wait..." He takes in the outfit you decided to wear, and breathes in the scent of that perfume you always wear on special occasions. "Don't tell me... You're going out with that guy again, aren't you?"

You roll your eyes, adjusting the straps of your shoes with a groan. "So?"

"Are you that blind that I have to fucking tell you? He's not good for you!"

"Why do you give a damn about who I go out with? Why would I give a damn about who you think I should go out with?"

"That's not the point- Stop going out with him!"

"What are you? My dad? Fuck off, Cheol."

"That guy is not good for you." He crosses his arms against his chest. "Hell, even I would be better for you and I'm your enemy."

“Yeah, you’re my enemy. That doesn’t explain why you’re butting into my love life like this. Literally, just fuck off!” you exclaim, losing your cool with a stomp of your foot.

You fall silent. He falls silent. Seungcheol is worried for that second that passes. He didn’t know why. The silence was uncomfortable. It was like the chill of realizing there’s a spider in the shower with you. He felt chills run down his spine. He didn’t even know why.

You say nothing more, picking up your purse. The silence was odd. It was new. Especially to the both of you. Seungcheol was just about to speak up again, voicing his opposition to you going out with the sketchy guy you met when you walked out and slammed the door on him.

His mouth hung ajar, disbelief spread all over his features. He scoffs, “Ugh, whatever.”

He turns to look at you again. You were by the dance floor now, the neon lights surrounding you. He always thought you were pretty whenever you two wouldn't be bickering until the day's end. Seeing you next to the lights, seeing you like this, it made his heart race a little. He blames it on the alcohol.

Seungcheol ignores the way the rest of his friends start teasing him. It was mostly Joshua and Jeonghan ganging up on him but it was teasing nonetheless. He rolled his eyes, shoving them off him when Jeonghan started giggling a little too close to his face. Sure, he thinks you look pretty, and sure, he doesn't deny that he did find you attractive when he first met you after the summer. That doesn't matter, though, right? Right?

So, what was this feeling festering in his heart when he saw another guy walk up to you and ask you for a dance?

Seungcheol watches as the anonymous guy takes your hand and graciously leads you to the dance floor. His friends would be dramatic and say that he glared daggers at the dude. To be fair, he was. Seungcheol wasn't going to admit to that, however. He crushes his cup in his hand, startling the rest of his group but leading to only more teasing from all of them. With a roll of his eyes, he decides to shift his attention elsewhere.

Your weight shifts from one foot to the other. Maybe situating yourself near the dance floor wasn't the best idea you ever got but you needed to search for Jiwoo in the sea of sweaty, horny, drunk people. What better option than to sit right next to the speaker? You mentally facepalm yourself when the neon lights blinded you from identifying anyone. You blink once. Twice.

Who is this stranger in front of you?

Alarms blare in your head, telling you to get away. Your grip tightens on your cup, anxiety filling your stomach. He notices your worried expression and immediately flashes a smile. "You don't come here often, do you? I'm Eungwang."

He extends a hand out to you, asking you to join him on the dance floor. You shyly follow him, his hand never leaving yours. He twirls you around, telling you to smile a little bit and relax. You could feel all eyes on you, the blinding neon lights and booming music slowly becoming unbearable with each passing second.

"You okay?" You nearly didn't hear Eungwang calling out your name. "You look stressed. Are you okay?" You did your best to shake your head no, breath stuck in your throat.

A worried look passes his eyes, the corners of his lips turning downwards. It was becoming too much. You knew you shouldn't have come to this party. Jiwoo just had to bring you along. Jiwoo... You still haven't found her. The pounding in your heart and ears were getting worse, getting louder. You twist your head, trying your best to scan the crowd for a glimpse of your best friend.

"Get your hands off of her," a more familiar voice speaks up. With wide eyes, you see Seungcheol with his hand on Eungwang's shoulder.

Without an answer, Seungcheol rips him away from you and grabs your wrist to pull you into a more open space. It was weird. You always thought Seungcheol's hands would be rough, yet his touch felt so light. It felt like feathers. It was almost as if he was afraid to break you in your state. If you weren't too occupied with panicking, maybe you would've been trying to fight your way out of his grip.

You hadn't even noticed. Within minutes, the two of you were seated in the front lawn. The cool air brushed your cheeks, slowly pulling you out of your trance. Seungcheol tosses you a water bottle which you catch with trembling fingers. You take a sip and let out a breath. With pursed lips, you turn to look at him.

"Sorry.”

"What for?"

"I probably ruined the mood, right?"

He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands in his jacket pocket. "Whatever. The party was shit anyway. We should get you back to the dorm."

"But Jiwoo--"

"Your friend will be fine." He tosses his jacket to you. "Wear that. It's cold."

"I will not."

"Suits you." He snatches it out of your hands almost immediately. "Don't come crying to me when you get a cold."

Like a child, you stuck out your tongue.

You're sick.

You don't know if it's fate trying to trick you or something. Whatever it was, it definitely isn't funny. Thank goodness, it was still the weekend. You definitely would have lost it if you got sick in the middle of the week. Good news was Jiwoo got back to her own dorm safely because her roommates dragged her back. That made you feel a little better.

Swaddled in your blanket, you begin your travel to the faraway land of the living room where you met your roommate looking at you amusedly. You sent him the best glare you could muster with a bit of snot dripping down your face. He only snickered.

"I told you, you should've worn-"

"Shut it. I'd rather be sick than wear that sweaty jacket of yours."

"Oi!" He stands up, pointing at you who was rummaging through the fridge. "I'll have you know my jacket isn't at all sweaty and gross! I wash it often!"

You let out a snicker, taking some leftovers out of the fridge and shutting it close with your hips. Seungcheol drops his plate in the sink. He stares at you for a fleeting moment; your hair was a mess and there was a bit of snot running down your nose. Nonetheless, you were wrapped up tightly in your blanket that reached the floor. You peek your head to see what's playing on the TV when you see a familiar character.

"You watch...Link Clink?" You sniffle slightly, bringing your blanket back up to rest on your shoulders.

"Oh? You know this show?" Cute. He shakes the thought out of his head immediately.

"Yeah...It was on my watch list." You didn't think that he'd watch something like that. "Not like you need to know."

He rolls his eyes at you, ignoring your last comment. "You wanna watch it together sometime?"

What in the fuck? You don't know if it was your cold, if it was just the air conditioning or literal chills went down your spine at his offer. Maybe it was just the first option. Caught off guard, you stare at him. His eyebrow was raised at you while waiting for your response.

"Uhm...yeah, sure... why not?"

"Oh, yeah." He opens up a cabinet, your curious eyes following his form as he searches through the cupboard. He pulls out a green plastic and hands it over to you. "I figured you would get sick, so I bought some stuff this morning that could probably help."

"Oh, uh, thanks..."

"Don't mention it." You weren't too sure but you thought you saw him blush a little. Perhaps it was your brain playing tricks on you. Nonetheless, despite being your enemy, he was nice enough to buy you something. Though, it really was just a small cold.

He clears his throat, snapping you out of your trance. "Get some rest. Jiwoo will probably drop by here later."

"Yeah, okay."

“You’re telling me he took care of you while you were sick?”

“And you’re telling me you didn’t threaten him at all to take care of me while I was sick?”

Jiwoo takes a long sip of her bubble tea, taking her time to chew the pearls while you wait for an answer. She simply shakes her head no. You sigh.

“It’s not like he, like, took care of me. It was more of, like, he just made living together less of a living hell, I guess,” you state, taking your own sip of your tea.

“Less? What do you mean?”

“I mean, he still teased and taunted me. Like, he kept bringing his friends over. You know how loud all of them could get. Finished a bunch of my snacks even though they had my name on it. He broke my third favorite mug, too. One time, he placed my shit on top of the cabinet when he knew I couldn’t really reach it.”

You almost let out a laugh when you remember it.

“Awh, you need me in your life after all."

"Shut up, I can replace you with a step ladder."

"Too bad you won't. You love me too much."

You hadn’t even noticed the rosy pink that started to bloom on your cheeks and creep up to your ears. Jiwoo did, however, and would not let you live. Her eyes grew wide, dramatically placing her cup down. She shook you. A big grin was plastered on her face once you turned to look at her.

“Oh my goodness, it all makes sense now,” she cheered, enthusiastically shaking you around like a maraca. “You guys have been talking a lot lately… When I visited there was no sign of chaos anywhere.... And you were just giggling!”

“Giggling?”

“Giggling, Y/n, giggling! You!” she squeals. “Oh my god, you’re blushing! They’re blushing! Don’t tell me… you actually like him, do you?”

You let out a snort. “Me? Like him? Jiwoo, love, he makes my college life a lot less bearable. My petty ass won’t even let that go by, either. There’s no way I like that asshole.”

Okay, maybe you liked him a little bit.

It would be hard not to like a guy who stops in the middle of a walk just to pet some dogs he saw on the way. It would be hard to ignore the way he smiles whenever you see him with his friends. It was most definitely hard to pretend like your heart wasn’t racing at all when your drunk roommate, also known as your enemy, snuggled closer to you on your way to the couch.

“Seungcheol.” A groan. Try again.

“Seungcheol.” Same response. What is this bitch on?

“Choi Seungcheol.” A loud whine escapes his lips. “How much did you drink? You reek.”

“Just a lil’ bit,” he hiccuped, swaying back and forth on his feet. “We were having so much fun I didn’t even notice the time!”

You softly threw him onto the couch as he started to flail his arms. You rush to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. He throws his arms around the pillows and tightly squeezes them as he starts babbling nonsense you couldn’t quite make out. You hear something along the lines of peaches, weird foods they tried, and someone jumping into the pool. You smiled. They always were such a rowdy bunch. All 13 of them. You would know. They trashed your room once and ate your leftover ice cream.

“You look pretty.” You snorted, covering your mouth with your free hand. “You look just like my roomie, you know. They’re like-” A hiccup interrupts him. “They’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” he slurred.

“Oh? Is that so?” You make him sit up properly and hand the cup over to him. “Here, drink some of this.”

He gulps down the water. “You're really kind, too! Ah, just like Y/n~ But they have a little- no, no- a huge temper.” Oh, wow. The audacity. He giggles and you suppress the urge to smile. Failing, you laugh along with him, shaking your head.

“Come on, let’s get you to your room, you ass,” you say, slinging an arm around him to try and get him up. “Why are you so damn heavy?”

“Because of my love~ for Y/n~!”

“Why are you cheesy when you’re drunk-”

You finally arrive at his room, which took a lot longer than expected because of dragging a very intoxicated Seungcheol around who would not stop trying to cuddle you. You struggle to open his door, ignoring the loud beating of your heart. Wanting to go back to sleep as quickly as possible, you let him crawl onto his own bed, turning around to leave.”

“Get some sleep.”

A hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from leaving. He pulls you closer. You lose your balance. Oh look, now you're on top of him. You hold your breath. You try to push yourself away from him but to no avail. You were trapped.

“Where’s my goodnight kiss?” He croaked out, quickly leaning up to peck you on the lips.

“You kissed?!”

“Shh! Joo, not so loud!” Your eyes darted around the area, several heads turned to look your and Jiwoo’s way. “Everyone’s looking at us. I don’t even know what to say, Joo. I haven’t seen him at all for the past few days.” “You haven’t seen him or you’re avoiding him?” She raised a skeptical brow at you, popping some food in her mouth. She points one of her chopsticks at you with a big grin that makes you want to hide in a hole and never come out. “I think… you’re just avoiding him.”

“Well, what are you supposed to do when-” you lower your volume, casting your eyes to the ground. “I’m not finishing that sentence. Argh!” You hide your face in your hands, Jiwoo’s thrilled laughter coming from beside you.

You spent the following week trying to evade Seungcheol’s presence. You’ve been getting out of the dorm far earlier than you used to and he could never catch you anywhere. He seemed more than eager to talk to you nowadays, usually looking for you in the hallways or trying to spot a glimpse of you in your favorite spots. The library, the boba place, outside your classes. Nothing. It always seemed like you were one step faster than he was, one second too late for him.

He went around the campus grounds one last time. He even asked his friends if he’s seen you to which they replied with skeptical looks for fair reasons. He even tried to ask your friend, Jiwoo, to no avail. He retreats back to the dorm in defeat. His shoulders slumped over as he fished the keys out of his pocket. The door clicks and he becomes visibly confused. He still has his keys in his hand. The door opens wide and Seungcheol yelps, faced with none other than the roommate he was looking for.

Without thinking, he grabs a hold of your wrist as you go to shut the door on him. You snap yourself out of your thoughts from that night. "You're coming with me."

"What the fuck?" You tug your wrist back. His grip only tightens. "Yah! What the hell do you think you're doing?! I'm going to miss the next episode of-"

"Mmm, don't really care."

"Tch." You look down, suddenly ashamed of your get-up. He opens his car door for you. "Did Jiwoo put you up to this?"

Seungcheol smiles. Your heart... Did it skip a beat? Woah. Maybe he actually doesn't look too bad when he's not being a dick to you. Maybe he actually, dare you say it, looks cute when the two of you aren't at each other's throats every 5 seconds. You reluctantly get in, buckling your seatbelt while you wait for him to start up the car.

You look out the window, appreciating the beauty of the night. It's serene. It was still pretty bright with all the lights and buildings yet it looked beautiful. You opted not to speak to Seungcheol for the rest of the drive. You still didn't even know why he dragged you out of your room. You don't even know why you actually got in his car.

Realization hits you.

You're in his car. Seungcheol's car. You willingly got into Seungcheol's car. A small gasp leaves your lips, calling his attention.

"Is something wrong?"

You look at him. "Uh, no... No, I'm fine." The car suddenly holts, snapping you out of your daze. 7/11. Your eyebrows furrow. What?

"You dragged me out of my room... to go to 7/11? This late at night?" you asked, disbelief laced in your tone. He only chuckles at you, getting out of the car while leaving you bewildered and still strapped to your seat.

"Technically, it's like morning but sure." You unbuckle the seatbelt and step out, the cold breeze hitting your skin. Right, you still looked like a mess in the middle of a crisis. "I owe you ice cream since Soonyoung couldn't control himself the other day."

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious of why he decided to be nice to you today. Before you could open your mouth to speak, he interrupts you, "This is just so you won't bitch about your lost ice cream."

"Hey!" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He picks up a few items and checks them out, you follow behind him like a lost puppy. "I thought we were just getting ice cream... why are you-"

"Can you just enjoy this quiet we have right now?" That made you shut up for the rest of the night. Not really. You started complaining about the cold a few minutes later while he laughed at your misery.

"Your fault for not bringing a coat, idiot."

"You fuckin- You dragged me out here!" you exclaimed, exasperated. "The audacity of this bitch, I swear."

Now sitting outside the 7/11, you rub your arms in a feeble attempt to warm yourself up. Not much luck. He slams a cup of instant ramen in front of you. You jumped slightly at the noise and he sent you a sheepish grin. "Enjoy, loser." You stick your tongue out at him yet pick up the cup nonetheless.

A sizzle breaks the silence between the both of you. He has a cheeky grin plastered all over his face as he teases you with the sight of the can of beer. He tosses one in your direction. You caught it, thankfully. You take a sip after opening it, letting out a content sigh. You searched your brain for something to say to fill the silence. It wasn't exactly everyday you get to sit quietly under the night sky on a school night with your worst enemy.

“I...uh... also wanted to apologize if I weirded you out while I was shit-faced drunk that one time. I didn’t- the words… they just slipped out,” he says.

“That’s it?” you ask. “You don’t remember anything else?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “I don’t remember anything other than babbling nonsense. Why? Did I do something?” Your cheeks flare up, memories flooding back in that you’ve tried so hard to avoid. He stops and looks at you, noticing how you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Your eyes were trained on something else, your cheeks burning crimson. He blinks once, twice, trying to recollect the events of that night. All he remembers was you pissed and greeting him at the door, muttering some embarrassing shit, and being dropped onto his bed. Everything else was a blur.

“We should… Let’s get going. It’s getting really late,” you say, turning your head so you’d stop staring. The two of you finish up your ramen and drinks, heading back to Seungcheol’s car after discarding the trash.

On the way home, he recalls a few memories. The day you first met, the time you embarrassed him in front of the whole 8th grade, the time he gave you an oreo cookie filled with toothpaste. A good trip down memory lane later, the two of you were laughing obnoxiously in the wee hours of the morning. The laughter dies down as Seungcheol unlocks your dorm door.

“Come to think of it, why are we enemies again? We didn’t really do too much to hate each other,” you say, removing your shoes by the door.

“Do we hate each other?” You shrug. He laughs. “Why don’t we start over then? We’re not too different, apparently.”

“Yeah. Sure, why not?”

He sticks out his hand. “Hi, I’m Seungcheol.”

You gaze lingers on it for a few seconds. You never thought you’d be doing this ever. You look up at him and back at his hand. There’s a chance you’ll regret your next move but you doubt you will.

With a simple, soft kiss, everything felt like it changed yet stayed the same. The feeling of his lips on yours felt like a simple gift from the universe as a sorry for everything the two of you went through together. Seungcheol was frozen in his spot, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly pulled you closer. His memories start getting clearer. He slowly pieces together what happened that night. You pull away with a grin, completely red in the face.

“Hi, I’m Y/n. Seungcheol’s worst nightmare.”

“Is that what I get for making you suffer in silence when I couldn’t remember anything?”

“Oh, so you remember now? Damn, you really are old.”

“We’re the same age!”

“To answer your question, yes. Yes, it is.”

For the second time that night, you kissed.

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