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oceaneyesinla · 11 days ago

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oops i did it again i ran out of tags pls read those then read this! (this might end up longer than the last one i apologise in advance)💖

the DING of the BELL reminds her of him 🥺 i love them 🥺

'you'd be lying if you said you haven't enjoyed seeing the world in technicolour again' BANGER after BANGER after BANGER line! i know i said it before but you're getting her feelings across SO WELL

yes girl go treat yourself you deserve it

there is something special about existing in a city, even when you know it's a little rough around the edges (okay my city is NOT THIS BAD but it has a bit of a reputation ya know but i love it anyway)

i love the way you write about the city and how they feel about it - she knows its dangerous and it's shit but there's some kind of deep seated attachment nevertheless, even if it's to nothing more than the memories of what was

MITSURI MY SWEET ANGEL BABY GIRL

her voice is scratchy from lack of use 🥺 oh sweet girl

she does still have a sense of humour about the situation though, good for you girlie

oh i know who this BITCH IS STAY AWAY FROM HER BITCH BOY

run girl run he's a bitch and he sucks

omg did i SAY you could touch her bitch boy?!?!??! girl you are right to run and evade and dodge he is bad news

not wanting to cut ties completely with her parents just so SOMEONE confirms she's alive 😭

oh this girl is going THROUGH it rn

yes sanemi please acknowledge that your brother figured this out before you, he's a good boy and not a dummy like u

'given your responses to his bullshit in the past, assault and battery are very real possibilities' I LOVE THEM honestly boy she deserves to hit you with a book just a little .... gently .... as a treat

oh sanemi she won't leave you any more than you could leave her

OH NO sanemi bby he assumes the worst but her phone is just in her couch bc of him

HE WOULD TEAR THE CITY APART FOR HER!!!!! oh i feel awful for him bc he's so scared for her but also protective devoted sanemi do be looking good 👀

HIS YOU?!?!??!?! screaming, actually screaming i've read this twice now and this line IS STILL GETTING ME

he hasn't seen her in over a week (since he did a fuck and run!!!) and this is how he greets her

also i love that she's just following him around smacking him while he checks the place out they're both such idiots i adore them

this whole mini argument is so funny she just calls him a stupid 😂 the drama of them honestly

he nearly breaks down her door, takes her keys and LEAVES boy you are a chaotic mess you didn't even EXPLAIN anything indignant spluttering is the LEAST you deserve

he went to buy snacks and period stuff for her 🥺 oh he is down so bad at this point she could ask him to bark and he would 100% he would be sassy about it but he would do it

he accurately predicted shit being thrown at him 😂 he knows her so well - the visual image of this scene is SO FUNNY

i said it before and i'll say it again - being a shit is one of his love languages!

i adore this scene so much - it fits their dynamic SO MUCH - there's so many feelings at play but underneath it all they just want each other - it's absolutely MASTERFUL

the KEY oh he loves her so much THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH

he sees her for everything she is and LOVES HER ANYWAY HE CAME BACK

closing his hand around the key - 'i'm yours' !!!!!!! 😭

'it was inevitable' YES THEY ARE DESTINED TO BE TOGETHER

and of course they're right back to sassing each other

'you can't help but nuzzle into his palm' i will cry i stg 😭

cocky confident sanemi my beloved 🫶🏻

i would also be worrying about the oven, what if the pizza burns????

he was willing to let the oven set itself on fire but not willing to let her go hungry ?????? 🥺 HE LOVES HER

the CUDDLING, the AFFECTION .... YOUR sanemi !!!!!!

'you're his woman now, after all; that means it's on him to take care of business' OH MY GOD I THINK I JUST PASSED OUT hdjowodfjejjd

oh fuck the hand over the mouth, the confidence !!!!!!!

uM making her hold her shirt between her teeth?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?

he's SO FOCUSED on making sure she's comfortable 🥺

'you're drawing him in like a magnet, your body his North Star' something something magnetic north, something something COMPASS oh god the symbolism i'm in LOVE

'it's you. it has always been you' my HEART

'you ain't gotta do a thing but take it' 😳 i would say something but it is not appropriate for polite company AT ALL just know i will be thinking about this for WEEKS

the praise THE PRAISE the possessiveness i might pass out

i adore that he blurts out everything when he's balls deep does her 😺 produce truth serum or does his brain just short out ???

he's so GENTLE with her like yeah he's fucking her hard and fast but he's so focused on her and her pleasure and her comfort truly she is the centre of his universe they've always been orbiting each other they were destined to crash together like this

the WAY he talks her through it

the brand - he likes her touching it because he can pretend just for a moment that he can escape, that the only brand he has is the one she's leaving with her touch - that the only brand that matters is the one she's left on his heart

their banter is everything to me (and also sanemi being a freaky lil horndog)

'under the beast's mask lies the endless beauty that makes up Sanemi Shinazugawa' this line is beautiful and this metaphor is incredible and *incoherent squeaking*

their intimacy is everything - their love is so earnest and genuine, they're just two people and they've got so many hang ups and issues and traumas and problems but they love each other BECAUSE of all that

oh her not knowing if anyone would notice if she disappeared i have some experience with this and you have got it across SO WELL you have absolutely nailed it in every imaginable way

'home is wherever you are' i have arbitrarily decided that Where I Want To Be is compass sanemi's song in my head

oh boy here it is! i'm pretty sure this is longer than the last one and about as coherent (i.e not at all)

this chapter was INCREDIBLE and i am so excited to see what comes next for them! this world you're building is so rich and intriguing and i am so proud and happy and grateful that i get to call someone so talented my friend!

COMPASS / CHAPTER 3

bad boy! Sanemi x Reader ✦ gang AU

A/N: eat up, loves. Enjoy the filth and domestic bliss of this chapter now, because we’re right back to the seedy violence of the Corps in Chapter 4.

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • period sex • grinding • lots of tit play • brief cervix fucking • creampie • Sanemi is a certified yapper in bed • light angst • humor • two idiots helplessly in love • mentions of a gun • mentions of gang violence • bookshop AU • gang AU

MASTERLIST HERE

COMPASS – CHAPTER 3

It’s hard to notice the way time stops when you aren’t paying attention to it; when you have no reason to bother.��

Life hasn’t always been this way – lonely. In fact, your upbringing had been on the cushier side of comfortable, and you’d thought you’d been surrounded by love, from both family and friends alike. High school hadn’t been any different, You’d had a social circle, you’d been involved in extracurriculars, and you had a good relationship with your parents and siblings.

Or, so you’d believed. Because then you graduated and everyone moved on while you were left behind.

That was when time stopped.

Not literally, of course. Birthdays came and went, as did Christmas. Your hair changed, and so did your living arrangements. Six weeks after you graduated, you moved out of your parents’ place into your current apartment, and enrolled in the local university. Your siblings continued growing up and apart, each making their way through school and setting out on their own. At the time, it felt natural. They each had their own lives, as you did, so you hadn’t paid it much mind.

That’s the tricky thing about it; it wasn’t something that happened all at once. It was slow, a trickle of sand in an hourglass you didn’t know had been turned. Only when the last grain fell did you realize the clock had been running at all, and by that point, it was too late.

It started as an exodus of sorts from the city, right after graduation. Leaving home behind in search of greener pasteurs elsewhere wasn’t uncommon, so it hadn’t seemed all that surprising that communications with those you’d once called your friends, dwindled. But then, those who left never came back, even to visit, and the few who did never lingered for long.

Had there been signs that the cancer was spreading? It’s hard to remember. Violence and crime has always been a party of life in the City, just as it is in any metropolitan area. The adults in your life always claimed such things were contained, an epidemic confined to the Silo and its poverty. As though the destitution of the neighborhood was somehow justified, a punishment befitting of those who had the misfortune of being born on the wrong side of a junkyard.

Growing up, you’d eavesdropped on more than your fair share of adult conversations. At least, enough so to know that income lines did not curb misdeeds; it only changed them, gave them modifiers like white collar and organized, as though somehow that softened the brutal reality. As though the covert whispers behind the hands of adults at school functions or neighborhood gatherings whenever a family came into a sudden abundance of wealth or someone sported an injury they couldn’t explain, changed anything at all.

If the crime in the Silo was the pot, then the crime bubbling under the sruface of neat shrubs and cobbled streets in your area of town had been the kettle. And the Corps had its hand in both.

In hindsight, you often find yourself wondering whether your former friends had simply been lucky to get out before the empire began to crumble, or whether they’d simply seen writing on a wall you hadn’t known to read. Because once the turf wars between rival gangs began to escalate and spill over from their confinement in the Silo, those visits from friends fizzled out all together, and you never heard another word. Not from any of them.

Your family, apparently, also had sensed whatever metamorphosis lingered on the City’s horizon, even if they hadn’t bothered to warn you, too. Once your youngest sister set off for university in a distant town – the very one who’d brought Sanemi to your family’s stoop that day, years ago – your parents swiftly packed up the townhouse you’d grown up in and put it on the market.

They only told you they were moving after the place sold.

They didn’t offer to take you with them, and you didn’t bother to ask. You didn’t even have their mailing address until that Christmas, when a festive little card arrived in the mail, bearing only Season’s Greetings from Mom and Dad.

Sure, maybe you’d realized a hair too late that you were only a transient presence in the lives of those you’d once considered friends, but the relegation to the background of your own family’s portrait had stung. Not important enough to be remembered, but too significant to forget.

You tried, for a while, but it hurt even more that they never bothered to check in. After the second birthday without so much as a card or a phonecall, you stopped altogether.

Alone, with nothing but a semi-failing bookstore to keep you busy, you quickly faded into the skyline of the city you’d once loved. And even it couldn’t keep itself from rotting. You tried not to resent it; decay, at least, still meant change. You just remained stuck. Frozen.

When monotony is your only companion, it doesn’t take long to lose the senses that risk breaking it up. After a while, your eyes learned to stop seeing. Sounds folded together and became muffled, fading to little more than a single, dull buzz humming in ears that forgot how to pick out the chirping of morning birds or the incessant honking accompanying morning rush hour.

Some days, you wondered whether you might be a ghost; others, you had to convince yourself you weren’t.

And then he came along.

———

“Come again!”

Your farewell falls well short of the customer already halfway down the street, instead smacking right into the wood of the door as it slams shut behind him.

Sighing, you slouch against the top of your counter, your fist propped underneath your cheek. Great. Of course the first customer finally to grace your store after a whole day’s worth of nothing ended up being as dull as the hours you’ve spent bored behind the cash register. From the moment he’d stepped inside, he’d barely acknowledged your existence. Your helpful inquiries into whether he was looking for anything in particular, or how his day was going as you rang him up when unanswered, save an odd chuff.

And so, out the door goes your first brush with human contact in several days. Pathetic, but even more so when you consider how long it might be until you saw another person again. The hours spent laboring at the store didn’t offer much in the way of free time, and you don’t really have a social life capable of filling in the gaps, anyways.

Well, maybe you did. You had, up until a few days ago, at least. Whether that is still true now, however, isn’t something you’re particularly interested in unpacking.

Thus, you’re left alone. Again.

Disheartened, your head slumps against your arm. You could always go back to your novel. It’s a crime fantasy; a latest release from an author you’d gotten into a few weeks earlier, the first book snagged off the shelf right before you closed up for the night. Rolling your head to the side, you eye the book, face down on the other end of the counter.

You scrunch your nose before rolling your head back the other direction, ignoring the book. Reading is the last thing you feel like doing right now, considering it’s all you’ve been doing. Once, you would’ve been thrilled at the prospect of having an entire day to spend behind the counter, flipping through a novel or two, completely undisturbed by the ringing of the store’s bell. But that was before you’d grown accustomed to a certain impish, foul-mouthed gang member who enjoyed hanging around the bookstore almost as much as he relished being a pain in your ass.

What you wouldn’t give to hear a snarky comment or scoff from him, now.

Without Sanemi loitering around, a disquieting stillness has settled around the store. The distant howl of police sirens almost feels welcome, if nothing more than for how it breaks up the nearly suffocating silence of the store.

Maybe it’s time to harass your boss about store advertising again. If you have to endure another week of silence this loud, you might just shove your head through the wall.

Realistically, you only have to tough out the summer slump for another month or so. Foot-traffic tended to pick up in the last weeks of August, when grouchy parents dragged in their children to buy the listed assigned reading books conveniently forgotten until the dwindling days leading into a new school year. And even once the back to school rush finally subsisted, you only had a few weeks to catch up on all the cataloging and ordering you’d missed fielding pissy parents before the holiday season began. As though the sudden shortage of certain titles was your fault, and not the consequence of their snot-nosed kids’ procrastination.

But August is still weeks away. June has barely settled, the summer heat only just beginning to ramp up. The days have already become unbearably warm, the only relief coming at night, but even that would soon come to an end. Before long, everything would be intolerable — the weather, the silence, the lack of anything and everything that had made life for the last year enjoyable.

You crane your neck around to squint at the old-fashioned clock hanging beside the front door. It’s only half-past four, and the store doesn’t close until eight.

Groaning, you thud your head against the counter. Three and a half more hours to go.

You could scroll endlessly on your phone, but that would require looking at it, and that would be pointless. You know there are no missed calls; no texts, no pictures of a recent read with a scarred hand giving a thumbs-up or thumbs-down. If you look at it, you know you’ll see nothing and you will still be disappointed. Might as well save yourself the trouble, even if you can no longer avoid acknowledging the root cause of your terrible mood.

What a stupid asshole he is. What a stupid, idiotic, moronic asshole.

When Sanemi Shinazugawa first exploded into your store last summer, you’d known you’d have to contend with a number of possible consequences as a result of getting involved. There’d been the obvious: the potential for arrest as his co-conspirator, for example, despite having not seen him in the three years following high school graduation. You’d devoted plenty of hours at the store reading crime novels, enough to know the police weren’t particularly careful about who got caught in their crosshairs. It would be almost too easy to deem you guilty by mere proximity to the scowling criminal you’d stuffed under your counter, even if the only association you’d ever had with him had been a decade earlier, when he’d been playing hero.

Of course, that outcome hadn’t been the only slot on your bingo card, and once you’d pulled off your little stunt of hiding him away, you’d been forced to consider other options. Perhaps he would demand free pick of your store’s inventory with the same casual arrogance he’d had striding out that day, book in his hand and not a damn dollar paid for it. Maybe he’d want your shabby bookstore to become a front for whatever nefarious dealings he did on behalf of the Corps.

As time went on, the fallout options from your budding friendship with Sanemi began to evolve. The closer you grew to him, the more dismal the potential ending: maybe you’d end up seeing something you shouldn’t, and he’d have to cut you out to prevent any further harm. Hell, you’d even grappled with the very real possibility of getting tangled up in something you shouldn’t, only to disappear without a trace, right alongside him.

Years spent in relative isolation meant you had an imagination that could outpace most others, so really, there was no shortage of possibilities that getting involved with Sanemi Shinazugawa might entail. It was pragmatic, on your end. Know what to expect and that way, you wouldn’t be caught off guard in the event whatever you had with him ended in a blaze of glory. Or gunfire.

As wild as your imagination could get, not one damn time had it accounted for you falling in love with the stupid asshole. And yet, here you are, just as much an idiot as he is, but with nothing to show for it.

Not entirely true, you think with a small snort as you start up the store’s computer, clicking through a catalogue of upcoming releases eligible for the next shipment. He’d left you that morning with a dozen knots in your hair and a soreness between your legs that lingered for a few days afterward, even when he didn’t. Now, here you are, six days out from Sanemi taking your virginity, and you haven’t heard a god damn word from him.

Not that you’re bitter about it.

As you scroll through the website of the store’s main distributor, one title manages to catch your eye. It’s newer, but it’s only you’d already stocked a few days earlier, having reserved a handful of copies the moment the publisher opened up preorders to smaller retailers.

You’d created an alert on your phone for that very reason, one set to go off the second the order window opened, so you could be sure the early releases arrived as quickly as possible. All because of a certain, low-life felon and his fat mouth.

Whaddya mean I gotta wait another four months ‘til the next one? Sanemi had whined, tossing his book onto your counter. It was the third installment in a fantasy series you’d turned him onto, and he’d rapidly devoured it with the same veracity as he’d had the other two. That’s bullshit.

That’s publishing, you’d snipped back, shoving his arms off the freshly wiped-down surface of the store counter.

Undeterred by your roughness, Sanemi only winked and re-settled himself, a preening smirk tugging at his lips as he plopped his elbow right back where you didn’t want it. Guess you’ll have to think of somethin’ else to occupy me with, Princess.

Oh? You leveled that insufferable smugness with a sly grin of your own. What do you suggest?

You got brains that match all that beauty. ‘M sure you’ll come up with something. He’d replied, tapping your nose with your finger, and snorting when you jerked away.

In retrospect, the blatant flirting made you want to crawl under your counter and never emerge again. He’d been so damn obvious, and you’d eaten every bit of it up. Perhaps that’d been his plan all along, and you’d fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

It’s hard not to let insecurity gnaw at you but you’re only human, and your edges are becoming more jagged.

You exit out of the web browser, unenthused. Nothing had particularly caught your eye, but then again, not much was capable of holding your attention, lately. Nothing, save the constant replay of that night and the next morning, and you’d picked that particular bone clean. There was nothing left to dissect, not even the marrow, but that didn’t stop you from returning to it, again and again.

You roll your shoulders. The best thing you can do for yourself is to find a distraction.

The back stock room sits full of new releases, and it’s been a few weeks since you updated the store’s colorful display of fresh titles. A bonus of having nearly total control over the bookstore is that you get to decide how displays are arranged, and it’s something you’ve grown to take pride in. With a sigh, you grab the circlet of keys from its peg beneath the store counter and head for store room. Might as well speed along the last two hours of the store’s operation, and give yourself something else to do that isn’t this – feeling hopelessly, pathetically sorry for yourself.

Two trips between the back room and the store’s merry front later, and you set to work. At first, the chaos in your head is smoothed blissfully over as you focus on clearing the shelf of its its previous New Releases, stacking the books up in neat piles to be shelved in their proper sections later. But your concentration is weak, at best, and a task as tedious as this makes your mind go blank, leaves behind a clean slate upon which it can map out all your insecurities.

Logically, it isn’t hard to imagine why Sanemi’s giving you the cold shoulder. He made it obvious that night, when he tried putting on the airs of a big, scary monster he imagined himself to be, though you’d long since learned how to see right through the facade. Even if he’d made good on his empty threat to handle you roughly, he would’ve regretted it — so much so, you doubt he would’ve been able to keep the charade up through the end. Sanemi didn’t seem like the type who got off roughing up his partners.

Given how gentle he’d been in the hours that followed, it seemed you’d been proven right. If only he could realize it, too. Maybe then, he’d figure out how to get his head out of his ass.

Sighing, you toss the last of the previous display’s books aside, and set to work on dusting down the shelves. The venom in your thoughts has less to do with your scar-speckled best friend and more to do with the bruise to your ego you’ve spent the last five days nursing. For all the ways Sanemi’s experience between the sheets greatly outpaces yours, it’s also limited. Affection wasn’t something he’d been known to give. In fact, you’d spent a fair deal of time wracking your brain, trying to remember whether you’d ever heard of him being in a relationship – as teens or otherwise – only to come up empty-handed.

In this respect, at least, he’s no smarter than you are. Actually, he’s probably more of an idiot for it, given how he seems to lack the tact to send a basic courtesy text. A casual, hey, talk soon.

Casual, you snort, as you begin restocking the New Arrivals section. Sanemi Shinazugawa might be better known for his casual dalliances, but nothing about what transpired between you had been casual. Not even fucking close.

An hour passes, and you almost feel at ease, finally left alone by the constant whizz and whir of intrusive thoughts you know better than to indulge. You’re nearly finished with a row of new romance titles, when the title of one in particular snags your attention.

Only Casual. A resounding fuck you from the universe if you’ve ever known one. You wouldn’t have been more surprised if the letters leapt off the book’s glossy front cover to smack you square in the nose.

The longer you stare down at the title, the more doubt threatens to creep back in, lapping at the shore of your mind with its seductive hiss. Maybe you haven’t heard from him because you never will again. Maybe it was only casual. Because that’s Sanemi’s nature, and you’d given it up for someone who would never be capable of anything more than that.

“Stop it,” you chide yourself, taken aback by your own venomous thoughts. That’s not him; at least, you’re almost certain it isn’t. Sanemi’s no-strings attached reputation had been well-known, and that has to mean he was transparent with his past partners about his intentions. If you truly were another notch in his belt, he would’ve said something, and he’d never struck you as the dishonest type. But Sanem’s persistent silence has bred a foreign sort of doubt in you that you haven’t quite figured out how to shake. “Where’s spiraling going to get you, stupid?”

Casual wouldn’t have been Sanemi trying desperately to scare you away when you’d asked the most of him. It wouldn’t have made him insist – quietly, resignedly – that you deserved someone better than him. And somehow, you don’t think it was very casual for him to fuck you without protection or sleep naked with you in your bed.

I love you, Sanemi.

That certainly hadn’t been very casual, either, nor was the torturous look in his eyes that followed. The pain could very well have been born from a place of rejection, sure. Another punch to an already throbbing bruise because you were again crossing a line you’d already asked him to blur. That, despite the sheer possession embedded in every movement of his body and lips, he could not and would not love you back.

Books fully stocked, you turn your attention to the pile of titles that need to be assigned to their proper sections. Your eyes flick to the clock on the backwall, and with joy, you see that it’s already five-past closing. Satisfied, you flip the Open sign in the front window to Closed and turn the top lock on the door. The pile will have to wait until tomorrow morning. It’s time for you to get the hell out of this asylum.

Closing time at the bookstore is a monotony you never mind, because it always means you’re leaving. You complete your tasks with ease, cashing out the register and taking the funds to the safe in the storeroom, to be picked up by the owner at the end of the week.

As you gather your water bottle and bag, you chew absently on your thumbnail, mind still working through the mess your isolation has created.

It’s only been five days. In the grand scheme of your friendship, that was nothing. Sanemi said you’d hear from him, and he’d never given you a reason to doubt him.

So, you’ll continue doing the only thing you know how to do, where he’s concerned.

You will wait.

———

Waiting, as it turns out, is far easier said than done. Or, maybe, Sanemi is just more of an idiot than you gave him credit for.

Either way, your phone is still silent and you are still alone.

Perhaps your self-assurance that you need only wait for Sanemi to come slinking back had been too optimistic. Because as five days become six, seven, eight, that certainty becomes tainted by doubt. Admittedly, it’s only a little, but it’s still substantial enough to form a pit in your stomach. One that gnaws at your edges just enough to irritate you, an itch you can’t quite scratch.

At first, it’s easy to ignore; after all, gaps in Sanemi’s communication aren’t uncommon. In fact, you’re fairly used to going days or sometimes even more than a week without hearing from him. Usually, he broke his silence with some dumb meme or an abrupt you eat yet? that let you know he wasn’t dead in some ditch.

But the more days that pass leaving you with nothing but your thoughts for company, that sourness festers. Because, beneath your irritation lingers the faintest trace of insecurity.

Is it irrational? Maybe. And you’re not so stupid that you can’t draw the very obvious connection between his silence and your anxiety. No, you’re painfully aware that your insecurity has everything to do with how the two of you left things after that night.

You don’t bother wondering whether you might feel differently had you not blurted out those three words that meant nothing between you would ever be the same. That particular ship sailed the moment you fell back against your sheets, naked, and begged him to make you his. The moment he agreed.

The constant reminders of him aren’t helpful, either. Every ding! of the store bell sends your heart pounding only for the bitter taste of disappointment to fill your mouth when you realize the newest patron is without the mop of silvery white hair or priggish smirk you so desperately long to see.

Does your ridiculous pining inspire you to reach for your phone? Of course not. Sanemi’s the one who owes you that; it’s his rules that have dictated whatever it is that’s blossomed between you in the last year. You can’t make his choice for him, not when he won’t so much as clue you in on the options. The why.

But god, do you wish you knew.

—

The ninth morning arrives just like the previous eight: hot, humid, and without a goddamn word from Sanemi.

The day passes like all the others. You rise at six, dress, and try to pretend there isn’t a headache blooming behind your right eye. You make it to the store by seven, and do your opening duties, make shitty coffee in the store’s shittier coffee pot, and settle in behind the counter. Customers trickle in throughout the day and you greet them with the same, plastered smile, carefully perfected over the two years you’ve spent shackled here.

The hours whiz by, and every tick of the clock hand becomes duller. Even the sirens that set off every so often in various directions around the store seem muted, despite their persistent wailing. The faces of shoppers blur together, and by midday, you’ve forgotten how to see them at all.

You wonder whether you’re falling right back into that frozen stasis in which you’d lived before Sanemi exploded into your store, dragging in with him a string of felonies, his foul mouth, and the sun. It’s a frightening thought, but not frightening enough, it seems, to keep the color from leeching out of the world around you.

You shake your head. No, you won’t do that again. Whatever you’d been doing before Sanemi hadn’t been living; it was barely more than existing. As bright as your world had been since he’d become a part of it, you can’t chalk your happiness up to him. It isn’t a burden he asked for, and it would be unfair for you to dump it on him. After all, he must’ve been just as lonely, if he’d sought a friend in you.

You’ll survive without him; you know you will. After all, you’ve managed just fine, these last few years.

But you’d be lying if you said you haven’t enjoyed seeing the world in technicolor again. And that is enough to make you hope (desperately) that Sanemi might think of his world as a little brighter with you in it, too.

—

By the time you close up for the night, your dull headache has blossomed into a raging migraine that threatens to split your skull in two. A perfect shit cherry to top off this wonderfully shit day.

Of course, your headache could have everything to do with the fact you’ve gone the entire day without a meal, but it’s easier to blame Sanemi and his silence, so you do. Still, the thought of cereal yet again churns your stomach.

Twilight has settled over the city skyline when you leave the store, dark and locked up tightly. The neon lights of the city have already switched on, bathing the sidewalks in their artificial glow. The air has thankfully cooled, but it’s still sticky, and sweat beads around your temple before you’ve made it down the block.

There are few things in this city that make life enjoyable. The closet you loosely call home is egregiously overpriced and in the summer, damn near uninhabitable. The bookstore pays far too little to justify the amount of work you do. And, it’s not like you have ties to anything or anyone here, save a criminal who can’t be bothered to shoot you a goddamn text.

But the diner on Twelfth Street? That dingy hole in the wall with the best breakfast menu in town is almost enough to make up for all of the City’s shortcomings.

The promise of buttery pancakes and salty bacon makes your mouth water, and that alone is enough for you to change course. Home can wait; you deserve to treat yourself, for once.

You make the turn down Market, treading the familiar path toward the diner. Sanemi once told you that the safest times to walk these streets was dawn and dusk — the transitional periods of the day, when regular nine-to-fivers went about their daily commutes. For one, blissful hour at sunrise and sunset, the City returned to the bustling metropolis of your memory. Office workers crowded the streets, stopped in at shops lining the sidewalks for last minute errands or quick dinners, as they pretended to not hear the distant sirens over the honking of impatient cars and beeps from the crosswalks.

Though, you think as you eye a group of young adults crowded around a table outside one of restaurants, perhaps none of them are pretending. Maybe they’re painfully aware that they’re stranded on a sinking ship. Maybe they’ve decided to just enjoy what few precious moments they have, before it all goes down for good.

Or, maybe they haven’t noticed there’s any water rising, at all.

In fairness, it’s not like you’re any better than they are. Here you are, playing at a cozy (albeit, boring) life, working at a bookstore that has no connection to either the Corps or its rivals. No protection.

Arguably, that means you’re worse; you know all too well of the danger life here poses, but here you are, clinging to the fraying vestiges of normalcy like it might be worth salvaging.

Oh well. If the merry twenty-somethings gathered outside and toasting to overpriced wine haven’t caught on by now, they never will. Not until their favorite restaurant goes up in flames, or the sharp crack of gunfire shatters their pretty stemmed glasses.

Just as it happened in the other boroughs of the City, like the Western Wing. The Kizuki, you recalled Sanemi saying, spitting the name like a curse. Don’t fuckin’ go near the Western Wing, you hear me? Off limits. Silo, too.

If he eventually came back, how long before he’d be warning you about your own small corner of the world? Where else could you go, once the bones of the City finally went up in flames?

The place Sanemi would: its ashes.

—-

The diner is teeming with rush hour patrons, and you have to force your way through a gaggle of teens to reach the pickup counter. Despite how cramped the inside is, one of the waitresses manages to spot you, calling out your name in greeting. A few seconds later; and she appears just behind the counter in a whirl of pink and green, and hands off your to-go order with a beaming smile. You pass her your money, and waive her off when she tries to give you change.

She could use it; you’re all too familiar with the strain of meager wages.

You make to depart the diner with a cheerful “thank you!” called back to your waitress, though you can’t tell whether she heard you. Your voice is hoarse, your throat, scratchy from days of non-use, and your farewell barely rises above the hum of the other patrons. The lump of self-pity sitting that’s been sitting in your gut hardens. You’d anticipated the mental toll from your utter lack of human connection, but you hadn’t expected any physical effects from it. If nothing else, let Sanemi’s absence be your very obvious sign from the universe that you need to find yourself a friend. Preferably, one who isn’t habitually involved in illegal activity that may or may not land you in jail as his unwitting accomplice.

Takeout secured, you work to squeeze through the thick clusters of dine-in patrons, eyes fixed on the exit as you dodge an odd elbow here and there. Right as you reach for the metal bar on the door, your foot stubs into something hard. It’s enough to nearly send you flailing, your hands crinkling the brown paper bag containing your dinner before it can spill all over the sticky tile.

You barely have time to finish sputtering your curse when a hand grabs your forearm, steadying you. The thing responsible for your collison is a man, one apparently trying to decide whether he wanted to order or chance somewhere else, given how he lingers in the doorway.

Inwardly, you know he’s in the wrong because he’s blocking the exit, but that doesn’t stop you from rushing to apologize, anyway. To his credit, he waves you off. Eager to make your escape, you ready some nicety that will allow you to slip out the front door.

The moment he meets your eyes, any platitudes you might have offered dry right up on your tongue.

Here, in a city surrounded by skyscrapers and streets lined with buildings jam-packed together like sardines, there’s little room for space, and it’s not something you’ve ever particularly missed. But as you stare into his eyes — black and cold — you finally realize what it means for something to be empty; how it feels, to look into an abyss.

Perhaps it’s because this man has within him, a void, that his eyes reflect the neon signage cluttering the diner’s walls. That’s the only explanation you can ration, given the way they seem to blend and swirl together in those depthless pools, creating an odd blend of colors. Unnatural and unnerving. He grins and it’s sharp, wicked thing. His mouth is too wide for his face, hungry and full of teeth that gleam far too bright. A wolf ready to rip into its prey.

Some deep, primal part of you waits for him to do just that, to sink those too-sharp teeth into your skin and shred you apart. Instead, he only inclines his head toward you, a mocking sketch of civility.

“Ladies first.”

You fumble around your words, searching for something — anything — to say, but there is only cotton in your mouth. Worse, the longer your paralysis persists, the more you’re forced to study him, even though everything about him — from his pale hair to his unusual eyes — sets your teeth on edge.

A too-red tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and the sweat gathering at your temple freezes. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or maybe your nerves have you searching for shadows that may or may not exist, but you swear there’s something on his tongue. A tattoo of sorts, perhaps.

Whatever it is – light tricks or you own over-imaginative mind – it’s nothing you need to look harder into. If anything, your friendship with Sanemi has taught you there’s no safety measure more important than minding your business. And, it’s getting late. You need to get home, before it gets dark.

Sanemi hates when you walk alone in the dark.

“Sorry again,” you manage with a squeak. You try and push by him once more, doing everything in your power not to brush up against him, when a hand grabs at your forearm.

If your heart could somehow unstick itself from your throat, you might have been brave enough to demand to know what his problem is; but it won’t, so you aren’t.

All you can do is stare into those soulless eyes.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t rush,” he chastises with a saccharine smile, and his fingers squeeze your arms. His skin is cold and clammy.

At last, you find your voice and you imbue it with all the steel you can muster. “My boyfriend is waiting.”

The lie rolls easily off your tongue and gives you enough courage to wrench your arm free. The man lets you go, easily, that too-sweet smile never once faltering as you hastily push through the diner’s exit.

The air outside opens up, yet still, you find it difficult to breathe. Every one of your senses is on high-alert, trained toward the door at your back and the unshakeable feeling of eyes watching you as you hurriedly cross the street.

You don’t dare look back.

Iron pumps hot in your legs as you half-walk, half-jog toward home. You still feel him watching you even as you reach your street, and you won’t dare to let him see where you live in the event your paranoia proves correct.

You walk around the block — twice — and feint down a side alley, not caring for the food steadily growing colder in your bag. Only when you confirm the man is no where in sight, only when you’re certain you can’t feel eyes bearing into your back any longer do you finally loop back around to your building.

The deadbolt on your door is a comfort you’d never thought to appreciate until now, and you hurry to slide it into place the moment you step inside your apartment. Door locked, you slump back against the lacquered wood and sink to the ground, your heart thumping uncomfortably in your chest as you work to steady your ragged breath.

For once, Sanemi’s paranoia doesn’t feel like a burden.

—

All your life, you’ve known that anxiety is an ailment best cured by food. Twenty minutes later, you sit at your kitchen table and eat your takeout in silence, save the odd squeak of your fork scraping against the plastic bottom of the container, the encounter at the diner, forgotten.

Instead, you’re left to chew on bits of scrambled egg and your own loneliness. You’ve never had a roommate — never wanted one, for that matter. Your apartment has always been your space, a place where you could go and just be, without a thought or care in the world. Your perfect sanctuary where you could fill the emptiness of your life with books, the lovely stories so delicately crafted by those perhaps as lonely as you.

Overpriced and temperamental as your apartment could be, it’s still home.

And yet, somehow, home feels emptier than you remember, despite the fact you’ve always lived here alone.

Normally, you’d turn on the TV or listen to something in order to distract from the utter stillness in your apartment, but tonight, you can’t even bring yourself to do that. Not when the repetitive cycle of commercials and the same four reruns airing seemed only to amplify the monotony of your solitude.

So, you continue to eat in silence.

Later, after you’ve shoved your empty takeout containers to the side, you sit at your kitchen table and fiddle with your phone.

It’s been a few days since you’ve bothered to look at it. It has remained on Do Not Disturb, shoved to the bottom of your bag, with you too unwilling to look at the hateful little reminder that without Sanemi to talk to, you are utterly and completely alone.

You have few contacts saved, so finding Sanemi’s name takes little time – but not before you scroll past the entry marked simply, “Mom.”

You don’t even want to know how long it’s been since you last talked to her – or your dad, for that matter. Somehow, you doubt your phone has kept any record of those few and far between calls. They barely ever lasted long enough to make a dent on your phone bill, anyway.

Oh, Mama, you think bitterly. What would you make of me, now?

Knowing her daughter had fallen helplessly in love with a season criminal might very well do her in. She’d have a conniption, at the very least, especially if she learned of Sanemi’s reputation among women. There’d be no chance to deny what you’d let him do – what you’d asked him for, and it wouldn’t matter that you loved him any more than it would that he’d rescued her other child, once upon a time.

Though, you suppose you’re getting ahead of yourself. All of your spite rests on the presumption that she remembered to care.

She doesn’t, so it doesn’t really matter.

You snort. Maybe you should mention it to your parents somehow, even if through a lie. Perhaps in your next Christmas card; a cheerful, Merry Christmas! I’m dating a known gang-banger – talk next year!

God, their faces when they realized you were nothing more than some felon’s whore. You’d be written off faster than the ink on the card could dry. That alone might be worth it, if only to not have to continue playing this tedious game of pretend.

But, if Sanemi never speaks to you again, you’d rather not have all your bridges burned. At least the annual check-in with them confirmed you were alive – if those ended, you’d truly have no one.

So, you scroll on, finding the object of all your ire – and heartache – and tap on its entry.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard as the cursor in the blank text box blinks at you, Sanemi’s name just above it.

Hey. You type before deleting it with a wince.

That book you’ve been waiting on just arrived. I’ll leave it on the restock shelf for you.

No, no, that won’t work either. You don’t want him to think you plan on ignoring what happened, and neither do you want to give him the out. You two will have to talk about it eventually, even if it’s to establish it can never happen again.

The thought of losing him makes your heart crack, the fissure spreading across your chest until you’re not sure whether you can keep yourself together.

If you’re cutting this off, I at least deserve to know.

Your thumb hovers over the arrow to send, your cursor blinking expectantly at you.

You don’t want to be hateful any more than you want to appear insecure. After all, Sanemi said you’d hear from him, and it’s only been a week. He’d promised you would hear from him.

He’d promised.

With a frustrated grunt, you hurl your phone at your couch, anger melting into numbness as you watch it slide between the cushions and out of sight. You do not retrieve it; instead you throw your takeout into the garbage with more force than necessary and strip yourself down to your underwear.

Summer has arrived fast and hot, and you know that the ancient air conditioning unit groaning and guttering in your window is due to short out on you any day now, as it does every year. Already the air in your apartment had become sticky and warm; it’s only a matter of time before sleeping became downright unbearable.

Though no one is around to hear, you snort. Figures that Sanemi’s sudden disappearance from your life coincides with your yearly descent into renter’s hell. If the universe has decided to you need to be dragged through shit, it’s doing a thorough job of it.

As if on cue, a familiar pang of pain shoots through your lower stomach. You glance at the date on your phone, and groan. Great. The last row of this month’s birth control card should’ve been your warning. Your already shitty mood is about to get even worse.

Your new prescription is already in your drawer, and you half-contemplate skipping the half-row of sugar pills, but you hold off. You’d already suffered a stern lecture from your doctor for doing that in the past, and you know it’s not good for you. No matter how great the temptation to spare yourself from debilitating cramps, you’ll just have to suffer through it.

Besides, this period probably isn’t the one to try and skip, anyways. Not after the events of that night. You’re better off making sure you’re getting your money’s worth out of birth control that, admittedly, costs more than you reasonably can afford. If nothing else, it’s worth it to avoid having to eat crow and admit you should’ve taken Sanemi up on his offer to get you the morning-after pill.

You tie your hair back as best you can, grateful to get it off your sweat-dampened neck and glance toward your couch. Perhaps you’ll muster up the courage to text him tomorrow, but for tonight, you’ll remain a coward. So, you leave your phone there, straddled somewhere between the cushions, and switch off your kitchen light before burying yourself in bed, the ache blooming in your lower belly matching the one in your heart.

—--

The first ray of morning light streaking through the cracks in the cardboard stuffed in his window is nearly blinding, but Sanemi is already awake. He has been for a few hours now, unable to find much peace in a night filled with distant sirens and plagued by thoughts of you.

God, he feels like shit. It’d been after midnight by the time he’d cruised back through city limits, and it was nearly two before he returned to his apartment, Sanemi having gone out of the way to drop off Rengoku’s car so he wouldn’t have to deal with it come sunrise.

Despite the emotional taxation of his visit with Genya, however, Sanemi had been hard-pressed to find sleep. Now that the sun’s up, though, he can’t avoid facing it any longer. His phone has been blissfully quiet all morning, and he has to take advantage of that silence while he can.

Today is the day, he decides between splashes of tepid tap water against his face once he forces himself out of bed and into his bathroom to wash up.

Today is the day he muscles up the courage to talk to you.

Not like he’s really got much of an excuse to put this off longer than he already has. Genya had told him as much.

The bristles of his toothbrush flatten against his teeth under the force of Sanemi’s brushing, toothpaste foaming in the corners of his mouth. Embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing. His teenage shithead of a brother — who couldn’t even talk to girls, let alone date one — had been able to see the obvious answer to the very predicament Sanemi had spent the better part of a week running around like a headless chicken.

Then again, nothing in Sanemi’s life has even been simple, so it figures he’d try and complicate something as straightforward as this. You.

A hearty spit into the sink later and Sanemi wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

He supposes it was inevitable; he can’t avoid you forever, and he owes you some sort of explanation, an in-person one, at that. No matter how new this is to him, he at least knows you deserve more than a measly text or phone call.

The bones of the Silo give way to the rusted shipyard marking its outer limits, the landscape whizzing by in a blur of rust and decay as Sanemi speeds past. Though the wind tears and whips at his cheeks, it hardly offers much in the way of relief from the heat of the sun bearing down on him from high above.

Sweat rolls down his back as Sanemi guns through the city’s East Wing, opting to zip down back roads instead of dealing with the traffic on the main streets. It feels strange, to be speeding towards a decision that will fundamentally alter everything in his life, when everything right now feels the same as it did a year ago. Here he is, gunning down the same path to the bookstore he’d taken then — down an alley, out of sight from laying eyes. Summer in the City carries the same, weighted heat from year to year, and this one is no exception: oppressively hot, the air soupy and thick with humidity.

And Sanemi is still as hopelessly shackled to the Corps as he was then – as he’s always been.

The brand between his shoulders itches.

Still, he supposes he can count his lucky stars that he’s not on the run from the cops as he’d been last summer – at least, not currently. And he takes comfort in knowing that he won’t find himself being pushed and shoved under your store counter, your lip curling in disdain even as you made good on a decade-old favor.

At least, he hopes that’s the case.

In all honesty, Sanemi knows he may very well find himself on the receiving end of that cold, unforgiving stare just as he had last summer. Only this time, the daggers you shoot his way might actually shred his heart to bits.

You have to be pissed at him. You’d be stupid not to be, and while your unfathomable affection for him suggests otherwise, you are smarter than he is – infinitely so. He’s ghosted you for more than a week, and you can’t possibly think you have to accept that kind of idiocy on his part, no matter his excuses. That means this talk has to be about damage control – however much of it you’ll allow.

He should start with an apology, that much is obvious. And he’ll follow it up with something he never deigned to give anyone who didn’t have the name of the Corps’ boss family attached to them: an explanation.

Though, he notes with a grimace, an explanation supposed you’d give him long enough to make it through his apology without lobbing a well-aimed book at his head. Given your responses to his bullshit in the past, assault and battery are very real possibilities.

The closer he draws to your bookstore, and the gnawing pit in his stomach grows wider. If you’re angry, then he’ll let you be. You can curse him all you want, throw as many book-bound projectiles at his head as you’d like, as long as you’ll hear him out.

There is another possibility, however. One that he can only label as a worst-case scenario, one that he hasn’t dared let himself consider even though he knows it’s a very real — and very understandable — outcome. The one where you have no reaction at all, only utter indifference to him and his absence. After all, you’d only asked one thing from him, and he gave it to you. Even if you’d told him you loved him, you hadn’t asked him to love you back.

Maybe you’d said it knowing he was a lost cause, and now that you’ve gotten what you wanted — the loss of your virginity and the weight of your confession off your shoulders — you could move on from him, even if that meant taking the misshapen lump of his heart with you as you left him behind.

Deep down, as devastating as that outcome would be for him, indifference is the best option for you. You’re better off without him; he knows this. So, he’ll pick up the pieces of himself and he’ll figure out how to glue them back together on his own.

Mind spiraling, Sanemi turns onto the street leading to you, a nauseous mixture of dread and anxiety churning in his gut.

About two doors down from the bookstore sits a coin laundromat and a repair shop. It’s here that Sanemi’s bike gutters to a stop, his eyes sweeping the streets for any out-of-place faces, anyone who might seem too interested in his movements.

All is quiet.

He stashes his bike in the gap between the two buildings. Normally, he’d pull into the alley behind the bookstore and come in through the back exit, but he doubts you’ve left the door unlocked for him. Not when he’s dropping by unannounced. He can’t imagine you’d take kindly to him pounding on the emergency exit, and the fewer opportunities he has to piss you off, the better. He’ll have to use the front door.

Kickstand in place and key tucked safely in his pocket, Sanemi shuffles along the sidewalk. Anxiety twists his stomach into knots, and it takes effort to force himself to breathe normally. But when he reaches the shop’s entryway, Sanemi stops cold.

The store is dark; there are no lights on inside, and even the way the door sits shut seems uncharacteristically cold.

He frowns. Perhaps you’re in the back, dealing with some delivery issue. Sanemi reaches for the door’s knob, ready to call out your name —

It’s locked.

Sanemi’s heart begins thudding uncomfortably in chest. The store is never closed. In the year he has known you, you are at the bookstore seven days a week, except for Christmas. But it’s midsummer; the store should not be closed. The lights shouldn’t be off, it shouldn’t be empty.

You should not be missing from behind the clerk’s counter.

Some semblance of sanity remains and encourages him to hurry around to the back alley, where he knows you accept deliveries. But the alley is as dark and as barren as the inside of your store, and the emergency exit is locked tight.

No store. No you. No sign indicating that you might have stepped away for a moment, or detailing some issue with the store and apologizing for any inconveniences to your customers. No explanation.

Sanemi’s hands are dialing your number before his mind can fully process the action.

“Answer your fucking phone.” His voice trembles as the phone rings and rings. “Now.”

It goes to voicemail.

He tries again. Voicemail.

Again.

Voicemail.

His body breaks into a run even before his mind can fully piece together the action, his bike forgotten. Riding it would require a coordination Sanemi doesn’t have anyway, not while his thumb is busy jamming repeatedly at the call function on his phone, as Sanemi sprints for your studio.

The line rings and rings but his desperation goes unanswered. And each time he hears the automated machine instruct him to leave a message, Sanemi grows more frantic. The burn in his legs barely registers; he is consumed only by the need to move faster, to close the distance between him and your apartment as quickly as possible.

Answer your phone. He wills you, pressing the green phone icon yet another time, and then another. Answer your phone. Answer your goddamn phone.

You never do.

He makes it to your place in record time, his fist hammering on your door. His panicked call of your name echoes around the empty halls outside your apartment.

You don’t answer.

Sanemi does not relent; one hand finds your name on his phone while the other continues pounding away at your door. He brings his phone to his ear and listens for the sound of your voice.

It does not come — but your ringtone does. Faint; muffled from its place inside your apartment, but unmistakable.

The sweat on the back of his neck turns to ice.

Sanemi’s breath comes hard out of his mouth in short, panicked gasps. Of all your eccentricities, Sanemi knows there are exactly two things you’re never without: lip balm and your phone.

His chest constricts. Your phone ringing inside means only one of two possibilities. Either you are in your apartment, hurt or captive, or you’ve been taken.

Swearing viciously, he jerks against the locked knob of your apartment door, a frustrated growl tearing deep from his throat. He spins away, a frantic hand raking through his hair, before he turns back.

Eyes wild, he considers your door.

It really is a flimsy piece of wood. Even if your deadbolt was somehow latched, Sanemi wagers he could kick it in fairly easily.

Whatever has happened to you, it’s his fault. Whether someone had figured out who and what you were to him, or whether it was because you simply lived in a shitty part of town and he hadn’t taken enough steps to ensure your safety, your blood is on his hands. That means it’s his responsibility to fix it — even if he has to tear this rotting city apart, brick by crumbling brick.

He backs away with a crazed expression. Fuck what your neighbors might think. Fuck what you might think, he thinks, getting into the stance he needs to rip your doors from its hinges. He’ll fix your door after he finds you and makes sure you’re safe. After he takes care of whoever dared to lay a hand on you, his you —

Just as Sanemi is readying his leg, he hears the distinct rattle of a chain unlatching, and then the door swings open.

Shocked eyes, blissfully familiar, blink at him, standing posed to kick in your door just as he stares back.

Sanemi doesn’t think; his hand seizes tightly around your wrist and he yanks you into the hallway, slamming your door shut with the other hand.

“What the fu —?” You start but you’re cut off with a muted oomph! as Sanemi whirls you behind him. An indignant half screech squeaks out of you as Sanemi kicks your door open, one arm keeping you at his back.

His other hand has his gun drawn and cocked.

Your eyes bulge. “Sanemi, what —?”

“Who else is here?” His voice has a deadly sort of authority you’ve never heard, and it makes a lump of cold fear lodge in your throat. “How many?”

He flashes a quick look at you over his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“What are you talking about?” you snap, following closely behind and pounding at his back as Sanemi systematically makes his way through your apartment, gun pointed and ready. But your flailing fists do little to stop him. “What are you doing, you psychopath?”

He doesn’t answer; not until he clears your kitchen, that deadly hunk of metal still braced before him.

“The store was closed.” He says shortly, eyes scanning the shadows. “You weren’t answering your phone. I called and called and you didn’t answer —“

“I’m on my period!” You burst, hands dragging down your heated cheeks. “I’ve been here dying from cramps, you idiot!”

The hand holding the gun drops limply to his side, as Sanemi turns to blink dumbly at you.

“I told you, you imbecile, that my periods suck!” Your face feels hot and your voice has taken on a distinct squeakiness in the wake of your mortification. “I have pain meds to manage my symptoms, so I’ve been in and out of sleep all fucking day! I wasn’t answering my phone because I didn’t feel well enough to answer it, you — you —“ Your eyes screw up as you wrack your brain for something that can express the depths of his idiocy. “You — stupid!”

Your lackluster insult is enough to break Sanemi’s blank stupefaction. “I didn’t know.” He finally offers after a long moment, a hint of pink rising in his cheeks.

“So, your first instinct was to do what — act like a goddamned maniac?” You demand as Sanemi hastily puts the safety back on his gun and tucks it into the waistband of his pants. “You don’t speak to me for more than a week, but you think it’s a good idea to come beat my door down? Because I don’t answer a few texts?”

“Not a few texts,” Sanemi spits back. “I called and messaged over and over -- I was worried —“

“You were about to kick my door in!”

He squares his shoulders at that. “Yes,” he says hotly. “Yes, I was. Because I was fuckin’ terrified for a moment that something had happened to you. Because of me. Do you know what went through my mind when I heard your phone ringing, after I’ve spent the last half hour trying to get a hold of you? What the fuck else was I supposed to think?”

“That you would decide I was sick or busy or maybe dealing with something and couldn’t respond, like a normal fucking person –”

“You say we’re friends and you still haven’t figured out that there ain’t nothin’ normal about this? About me?”

Something flashes across your face, your eyes tightening at the word friends, but it’s gone before he can blink. Sanemi doesn’t let himself linger on what it means. Nor does he listen to that small voice in his head that coolly whispers that he knows damn well you two are more than friends, no matter how deeply he tries to bury his head in the sand.

You open your mouth, ready to unleash of slew of insults or perhaps give him the good verbal lashing he knows he deserves, when you double over with a wince.

“Oh, fuck me.” You groan, pressing a hand to your abdomen. You wave him off, dismissive. “I’m going back to bed. You know I’m not dead, so do whatever you want. You know where the door is.”

With that, you shuffle miserably back to your bed, hunched over in on yourself, your arms wrapped firmly around you middle. Sanemi watches, bemused, as you crumple into your mattress in a resigned heap, your knees drawn nearly to your chest.

He stares hard at your bed, nostrils flaring as he works to calm his breathing. Safe. You’re safe, nothing is wrong, you’re okay. He repeats this, again and again, a mantra that slowly eases the tension in his shoulders, soothes the violent fury in his veins.

A groan of frustration sounds from beneath your blankets and pillows, slightly muffled. “Well? What do you want?”

He considers you for another moment before he rocks back on his heels, clicking his tongue.

Fuck it. Fuck the Corps, fuck the rules, fuck it all.

“Where’re your keys?”

“Huh?” You lift your head just in time to see him start rooting through your bag where you’d left it looped it over the back of your kitchen chair.

Sanemi pulls out the woven keychain you used to attach a cluster of mismatched keys – ones to the store, the register, and most importantly, your front door. He tosses them in the air, triumphant, before snatching them up tight, pocketing them without so much as a look back at you.

“Later.”

Silence, and then, “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me —“

He’s out the door before you finish your indignant sputtering.

—-

If any doubts lingered as to what exactly Sanemi’s decision was when it came to you, he’s fairly sure they’re resolved here, in the pharmacy’s period care aisle. Because, really, what else can he call this – him, standing before shelves lined with an array of boxes and tampons and pads, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to get – if not a commitment to you?

A clear choice as any, he supposes. It’s you, or it’s nothing – no one – else. Whatever it is the two of you are though, is another matter.

Rule Three: don’t get attached.

Admittedly, that rule went right out the fucking window the moment he decided to pursue some sort of friendship with you, all those months ago. Even if it somehow survived the fall, he’d funcationally ran it over, again and again until nothing remained, the second he put his dick in you.

Whatever the label, he supposes he at least has to pretend to give some semblance of a shit about Corps’ rules, if nothing more than because of his title within it. Plus, that caution probably serves to protect you as much as it does the Corps. And that means he can’t outwardly call you his girlfriend anymore than he can openly date you.

He grimaces at the thought as he peruses the snack aisle, tossing a random assortment of your favorites into his basket alongside the variety box of tampons he’d settled on. Leave it to him to mull over shit like what to call you, now, when he’s got far bigger fish to fry. Never mind that for all the ways he’s decided he wants you to be his, he doesn’t yet know whether you want him.

He did ditch you for over a week. Eleven days, to be exact.

Oh, well. If somehow you don’t throw him out on his ass, then it doesn’t really matter what he calls you. It’s not like he’s particularly attached to labels, anyway. Not when girlfriend is far too casual a way to describe what Sanemi feels for you.

He tries ignoring the pang of want in his heart as the word boyfriend flits through his mind. While he can’t call you his girlfriend to anyone within city limits, you don’t wear the same shackles that he does. You’re not bound by the same code. And damn, what he wouldn’t do to have you call him your boyfriend; to finally belong to something – someone – other than the Corps. It’s the sort of brand he’s gone his entire life craving even if he didn’t quite know it. One he’d wear proudly on his heart, even if no one else would ever see it.

Finally, he reaches the front of the checkout line and tosses the contents of his basket onto the counter. Though, if you do decide you want his sorry ass, you’ll have to be careful enough to not link boyfriend to his name. While Sanemi may not give a shit about his own safety, yours is his priority. He won’t let you put his target on your back.

Whatever labels do or do not await him, nothing changes the fact he cannot be a normal – whatever – to you. The only way you stay safe is if Sanemi lets his paranoia dictate the lines of your relationship, and even then, he can’t guarantee it’ll ever be enough.

He pays for your stuff, gathering the bags in one hand while he rummages his pockets with the other until he finds your keys. So many uncertainties remain, far more than what makes him comfortable. Yet, in spite of it all, the bubbling, hot panic he’d felt sprinting to your apartment has given way to an unfamiliar lightness. One that makes him feel like he’s floating even as he stops at a small kiosk near the pharmacy’s exit and feeds your apartment key into the machine.

Yeah, he’s fucking attached to you even though he knows better. But if you accept the metal the kiosk spits back out after a moment of whirring, it’ll be worth it.

—-

Less than an hour after his dramatic exit, Sanemi slips back into your apartment. The plastic handles of his shopping bags looped unceremoniously around his wrists dig uncomfortably into his skin, and he dumps his bounty on the floor just inside your entryway.

A soft thump against the wall to his right snaps his head up.

Years of training to dodge fists, projectiles, bullets, enable Sanemi to duck right before one of your ridiculous little throw pillows smacks into his head.

Across the floor of your small apartment, Sanemi spies you sitting perched at the end of your bed, eyes wild and hair a mess, another pillow cocked in your hand, ready to be launched his way.

Bewildered, Sanemi demands, “The fuck is your problem?”

“You!” The fluffy cushion sails through the air, but Sanemi knocks it easily aside. His casual avoidance of your targeted rage only serves to infuriate you more, and he watches, with some amusement, as you whip your head from side to side, searching for something else to chuck at him.

Finding nothing, you jab a finger toward the door. “Get out!”

“Nah,” he folds his arms across his chest and levels your fury with a cool stare of his own. “Don’t feel like it, and I know you don’t want me to go, either.”

Your right eye twitches and Sanemi smirks. If you really wanted him gone, you would’ve fought harder when he took your keys. Probably would’ve chased him out the door, hurling all kinds of venom his way. If nothing else, you would’ve blown his phone up, calling him every name in the book, leveling every threat you could concoct.

You’ve forgotten, it seems, that he’s spent the past year learning you; being your friend. He’s far too used to your stubbornness; he knows when you’re full of shit.

“You’re impossible.” And with a huff, you turn your back to him and throw yourself back down on your mattress, yanking your blankets up to your chin.

He stomps over to your side of the bed and glowers down at your back, put stubbornly to him.

Fine. You wanna play this way? Sanemi can deal in pettiness, too.

An edge of your blanket peeks out near your feet, a small sliver you hadn’t managed to tuck into place. A mistake, on your end, given that it only takes Sanemi hooking his fingers under it to rip the blanket clean off you.

He tries not to linger on the whiff of your scent that slaps him in his face. An intoxicating mixture of your perfume and shampoo that socks him in the gut.

While the loss of the blanket’s security forces you to curl in tighter on yourself, you offer no reaction. Not even a spiteful little glare over your shoulder, or some half-hearted insult, and for some reason, that pisses him off even more.

“You’re not ignorin’ me,” he growls, balling the quilt in his hands. “I can be a bigger pain in the ass than this.”

Still nothing.

After a moment, Sanemi’s irritation finally boils over. “Can I just fuckin’ hold you, please?”

You flip over to gape up at him, returning his pinched glare with outrage of your own. If Sanemi’s silence since that night was a bruise to your ego, the earnestness belying the arrogant annoyance in his eyes is a finger jabbing mercilessly at it.

Because he actually means it.

Part of you wants to laugh at the absurdity of his request, and another part wants to launch every obscenity you can dream of right at his stupidly handsome face.

You go for the in-between. “No!” Your voice is shrill. “No, you can’t hold me. You ghost me for almost two weeks, nearly break my door in half, steal my keys and fuck off for over an hour, and you think you get to hold me?” You throw your hands up over your head in exasperation before dragging them down your face, exasperated. “Are you stupid?”

Never mind that’s exactly what you want to happen — it’s all you’ve wanted, actually. But Sanemi’s idiocy has to cost him something, and despite the way your stomach dipped in excitement when you heard him sliding your keys into the door’s lock, he owes you an explanation. And until you get one, he can keep on sitting at the very top of your shit list, all by his lonesome.

Some of the hardness in his eyes softens as your words hit their mark. In its place emerged a shadow of disappointment, one that has you reconsidering your previous stance, your hands itching to reach for him.

Gently, Sanemi tosses your bunched up blanket to the foot of your bed. “Fine.” He gestures vaguely behind him. “But I’m still gonna put all this shit away, and then you and me are gonna talk.”

That makes you sit up. “What shit?”

Sanemi doesn’t bother dignifying you with an answer; doesn’t so much as spare you a glance as he stalks back toward your door. He totes the plastic shopping bags to your shabby kitchen table as you trail behind him, your curiosity outweighing your desire to remain rotting in bed.

“Wait,” you frown, reaching for his arm. You try and still him as he unloads aspirin followed by a fresh box of tampons. “Sanemi —“

“Just shut up and let me take care of you.” He pulls a frozen pizza out of the shopping bag and glances at you. “Did you eat?”

You hesitate but then you slowly shake your head.

He snorts, depositing the box on your counter. Figures.

Bemused, you watch as he lugs the rest of his bounty into your kitchen and sets to work organizing his purchases. It’s a strange sight. Sanemi bustles around as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He navigates your cabinets with a confidence that only comes from familiarity, his movements more akin to something like muscle memory.

His comfortability makes sense, given how much time he’s spent here over the last year. Still, you never imagined a hardened criminal could look so…domestic.

What doesn’t make sense, however, is why. From the moment he’d thundered into your apartment in a murderous rage to his abrupt exit with your keys and sudden reappearance with groceries, Sanemi’s erratic actions have you in a tailspin you can’t begin to find your way out of. Because none of it makes sense.

Too much; this is all too much.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Your hand snatches around his forearm, stilling him. Annoyed, Sanemi huffs down at you only to be met with your own frosty glare.

You cut your eyes to the spread of snacks and period products atop your kitchen counter. “What is all this, Sanemi? I mean,” you gesture helplessly between him and the bags. “What are you doing?”

Sanemi grabs the frozen pizza box and turns it over, eyes skimming the instructions. “Taking care of you.” He monotones, like it’s supposed to be obvious. Like him sifting through a bag full of snacks — all your favorites, you note — was normal, part of some unspoken ritual.

You know better; because the sidelong look he casts you is one of remorse; guilt.

He’s stalling. And it’s precisely because of his own hesitancy that you can’t be the first one to give in; to open the very obvious can of worms that sits between you.

You will not make his decisions for him; you won’t shoulder the burden of any blame should this go tits up.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

He busies himself with your oven’s settings, fiddling with the knobs until it clicks on, preheating. Wordlessly, Sanemi slides the pizza into the oven and sets the timer.

“Sanemi.” You press.

Instantly, the rest of his arrogance deflates. He turns back to you, shoulders heavy, slumped forward with something like shame.

“‘M sorry, I just…” he trails off with a helpless shrug. He drops his head, staring hard at the cracked linoleum of your floor.

You shift, settling in against the empty doorway to your kitchen, arms folded across your chest. After another moment, he raises his head, and takes a tentative step forward.

“For months, I haven’t been able to think about a damn thing but you.” Sanemi begins, his expression uncharacteristically grave. “Can’t sleep, can’t eat, can barely fuckin’ breathe without thinking about you. Without thinking of how fucking badly I want you.”

A tired hand runs through his hair. “Haven’t even been with anyone else in months. Not when all I can think about is you.” He snorts, though it’s without humor. “Started picturin’ you when I was with the others and everything. Nearly called out your name with one of ‘em one night, and knew I couldn’t do it anymore.”

That little revelation nearly knocks the wind right out of you. Since your friendship with him began, you’ve kept your ears steadily tuned toward any mention of Sanemi’s name. Part of you rationalized it was out of concern for his wellbeing, but in truth, you’d been nosy.

Not once had there been a whisper of the infamous Sanemi Shinazugawa settling down, of him slowing his antics.

Then again, the moment you’d begun catching the details of his wild reputation among the women of the Silo, you’d tuned out all the noise, too embarrassed to admit your own interest.

“I was selfish, kissin’ you.” Sanemi’s hoarse voice calls you back. “Swore it was only gonna happen once, and couldn’t even keep that promise. And then, what we did that night — that only made it worse. D’you know why?”

He chances another step toward you and the air between you thickens. Suddenly, there’s little space left between your bodies, and you’re all too aware of the heat rolling off his body, drawing you in, a moth to a flame.

A hand reaches for you, his fingers nearly grazing your hair, but his arm drops back limply to his side. “‘Cuz I shouldn’t have been able to have you. Not like that. But I did, and —“ he swallows, hard. “I knew I wanted more before I slept with you. Knew that if I ever crossed that line, I wasn’t coming back from it. Couldn’t.”

Your lips part. “Sanemi —“

“I can’t be your friend, Y/N.” Sanemi says heavily. “I just can’t. I knew that way back when I first started comin’ around, but I wanted to try. But I sure as hell can’t be your friend, now."

A crack splinters across your chest, and by the way Sanemi’s eyes tighten, you wonder if he heard it; the sound of your heart breaking.

It was only ever going to end this way. You should’ve known — a part of you did know. But that hadn’t stopped you from trying, from loving him, anyways.

You open your mouth, ready to voice your resigned acceptance; to cut him loose, save yourself the devastation of any further explanation, when Sanemi shifts.

With a gulp, he shoves a hand into his pocket, rummaging. Whatever it is he searches for, he finds and holds out his closed fist before letting it drop.

A glint of light bounces off the object dangling from his fingers and from your periphery, you can tell it’s metal. Frowning, you tilt your head, inspecting.

Your heart gutters to a halt as its shape takes form.

A key. A single silver key, plain and unassuming, yet somehow, the entirety of your future rests somewhere between the neat little grooves you know perfectly match the hardware of the lock on your door.

“I had it made while I was out.” Sanemi’s confession is breathless, and he swallows hard before adding, “If you don’t want me to have it, then take it. It’s yours.”

For a long moment, you say nothing; you only stare at the key hanging in the air. Half a heartbeat ago, you’d believed this — whatever it was — with Sanemi was over. That whatever brightness he’d brought to your dreary little life had faded, and he’d leave you behind, just like everyone else you’d dared to love.

“If I tell you to keep it,” you start carefully, gaze trained so pointedly on the key dangling from his fingers that you don’t notice the way his eyes round. “Then what does that mean for us?”

He needs to say it. After a week of nothing from him, he at least owes you this. A label.

His throat bobs. A beat passes, and then, “It means I’m all yours. Only yours.”

Not good enough. “My what?”

Sanemi’s fingers tense in faint agitation and your eyes cut to his.

“Yours,” he insists again, more hotly. “Your boyfriend, your partner, your whatever-the-fuck-it-is that you call someone who’s all in and wants to be with you, and only you.”

Air hardens in your throat, forms a lump you don’t know how to swallow around.

He says it so simply, as though it’s obvious; like he hadn’t avoided you without a damn word for more than a week, leaving you to fight against insecurity you hadn’t known to have, before him.

I love you, Sanemi.

He hadn’t said it back, then. Initially, you thought it was because he didn’t feel the same. Sure, he cared for you, that much was obvious, but perhaps that consideration didn’t rise to the level of devotion you held for him. You were okay with that; you hadn’t said it out of expectation, anyways. You’d only wanted him to know your heart, to know that as long as it was beating, it would be his.

Now, this key is his answer to your admission that night. And while it may not be the three words part of you longs to hear, it’s just as much as a confession on his part.

You could kick him out; tell him no, tell him that he, under no uncertain terms, could fuck right off after leaving you on silent for more than a week. You could.

You don’t.

Because, he came back. Maybe in a whirlwind of murderous, seething violence, but Sanemi came back. No ulterior motives, no conditions; he came back for you and you alone.

He saw you and all your monotony, all your inexperience, and he came back anyway.

He was the only one who ever had.

Quietly trembling fingers latch around his wrist and for a moment, Sanemi thinks you’re going to take it from him. All at once, the earth crumbles and faces beneath him, plummeting him right into the hell he knew he was venturing into the moment you looked him in the eyes and asked him to do the impossible.

A buzz settles in his ears and Sanemi braces for the rejection he should’ve known was to come. He’d screamed it at himself that night, his head warning his stupid heart that this was precisely the only way this could go. You’d gotten your fill of him, loved him even, but this — he — is too much. He should’ve known better, he did know —

Your fingers close his fist around the key and squeeze it tight. Wide-eyed and breathless, Sanemi finds that for once, he does not resent the way the metal presses into his skin.

“Keep it.” Your hands are warm where they embrace his. “I’m yours.”

It takes him a moment to remember how to speak; to realize the static in his head has quieted. His world comes back together just as quickly as it fell apart, its pieces realigning with you at its center.

Relief, he thinks, has never felt so fucking sweet. “Thank fuck.”

The key clatters to the floor but no one pays it any mind; Sanemi is too busy surging forward, his hands planted firmly on your cheeks as his mouth crashes eagerly — desperately — into yours.

The kiss is little more than a frantic clash of lips and teeth, but everything about it is so fucking right that neither of you can be bothered to care.

You fling an arm around his neck, anchoring yourself to him as Sanemi’s enthusiasm threatens to send you stumbling back. Some small, distant voice hisses that you should’ve made him work for it a little longer, should’ve made him grovel for forgiveness. But then his hands are dragging down your front, and he’s pulling you into him by your hips with a possessive grunt and suddenly, you can’t remember why any of it matters.

Neither of you are aware that you’re moving, not until your back bumps up against the entryway of your kitchen. Even then, your small gasp of surprise serves as nothing more than the chance for Sanemi’s tongue to sweep into your mouth, branding you with his claim.

It was always going to end this way — him, pressing you into your kitchen doorframe, his hands shoved under your t-shirt to rest on your bare waist while you pull him closer, your fingers twisting in his hair. Sanemi is a weak man; no matter how his better judgment snipped and snapped at him, all roads led right back here. It was inevitable.

Even if he hadn’t chosen your bookstore to hide in that day, somehow, the universe would’ve found another way to throw him into your life.

Sanemi breaks away with a pant. “Fuck, Y/N,” he moans against your lips. “You don’t know what the fuck you do to me.”

“Took you long enough,” you chastise between quick pecks. “I was beginning to think your head was perma-lodged up your ass.”

A sound of exasperation accompanies the nip of his teeth at your lip. “God forbid the Princess has to wait on anything.”

You hum into his mouth. “Not anything,” you correct, breaking away from his lips in favor of brushing your nose against his. “You, asshole.”

This time, it’s Sanemi who moans. “Bullyin’ only turns me on, sweetheart. Thought you knew that already.”

“And deflecting doesn’t help your cause. You still have some making up to do.” You scoff, lowering yourself back down to your normal height. Sanemi’s hands linger, cradling your face, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm.

“Yeah, well,” Sanemi murmurs, his thumb stroking your cheek. “‘M here now, and I want you. And I’m a fuckin’ idiot for thinking this is a good idea, and so are you for wantin’ me, but that’s where we are. Can’t go back.”

The corner of your mouth twitches up. “You mean, you can’t unfuck me.”

“Nah,” he agrees, though his eyes darken. He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head toward his. “Wouldn’t wanna take that back, anyways. Not in a million years.”

Not when you’re his.

This time, when Sanemi recaptures your lips with his, it is slower; more sensual. His tongue slides seamlessly into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

Raw desire, sharp and electric, shoots between your thighs when Sanemi moans again. Despite the neediness of his lips, his touch, Sanemi quickly recovers some of his self-confidence, the excitement of his kiss giving way into something more measured, more fervent that already has you panting for more.

Oh, he’s far too good at making you melt.

Large, warm hands skirt down the back of your thighs, gripping you under your legs. You gasp when the floor disappears from beneath you as Sanemi easily carries you deeper into the kitchen.

The pizza baking in the oven goes forgotten as Sanemi sets you on the ledge of your counter, his hands sliding up your sides, bunching the fabric of your shirt between his fingers.

The warmth of his hands makes you gasp and arch into him, and he huffs a quiet laugh against your lips.

“Yeah? You want me to touch you?” He teases, pausing only to trace the tip of your nose with his, before he leans back in. “Tell me where.”

You’d love to, except the greedy asshole’s greedier lips are right back on yours, and you don’t have the willpower to argue. You sigh into him, and Sanemi’s tongue sweeps easily into your mouth, flicking against yours.

Those damn hands of his manage to sneak beneath your t-shirt again. “Mmm. Here?” He teases when you arch, his thumbs brushing along a sensitive part of your waist that makes you squirm.

He kneads against your ribs. “How ‘bout here?”

Your nails scratch the nape of his neck in warning. “Sanemi —“

Those devilish fingers of his inch higher beneath your shirt until he’s cupping your bare breasts.

“My bad. Here, right?” He smirks, catching your lower lip between his teeth.

He palms at your chest until you’re whimpering into his mouth. The tender, swollen ache of your breasts is soothed by Sanemi’s clever touch as he teases you with alternating flicks and pinches. He breaks your kiss to whisper your name, each syllable dripping with a reverence that makes you feel damn near sacred. He murmurs it again and again as his lips trail down your cheek, your jaw, his hands pushing your t-shirt higher and higher —

The oven timer buzzes.

Your head snaps toward the sound, hands fluttering against his chest in a reluctant effort to push him away, but he pays you no mind. Sanemi’s lips are still teasing under your jaw as he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turns your head back toward him.

He silences your building protest with another kiss. “Let it burn,” his teeth nip at your bottom lip. “We’re busy.”

You give into the persuasion of his lips for a moment, too greedy for his kiss. But the beep of the timer seems to grow louder by the second, and you find yourself too distracted by its noise to continue ignoring.

“‘Nemi,” you murmur between heated kisses. There’s a low vibration in the back of Sanemi’s throat in response, something akin to a growl of approval at the way you shorten his name. His hold on your waist tightens as he pulls you harder into him. “The oven —“

His tongue licks at the roof of your mouth before his lips break away from yours. “Fuck the oven,” he moans before he claims your lips again, his kiss every bit as needy and possessive as touch.

He can’t fathom stopping now — not when you feel so damn good in his hands, not when he’s so giddy that he gets to keep you all to himself, selfishly.

He feels like a teenager again, feels that same excited flutter in his stomach he used to get from sneaking off with girls between classes to make out, to let hands explore under shirts in the dark corners of abandoned classrooms or under the bleachers, more thrilled by the prospect of being caught than of actually succeeding in getting into one another’s pants. Only now, Sanemi’s got the girl of his dreams moaning with a few clever movements of his fingers as he explores your mouth with his tongue, your hands just as greedy as they roam the planes of his chest and tug at his hair.

He’s about to suggest moving to your bed, eager to continue because he can, you’re actually his --

A loud rumble from deep within your stomach slices between you like a knife. Sanemi’s hands freeze, right atop your bare breasts.

A beat passes, and then he murmurs against your lips, “when did you last eat?”

Before you can feed him your bullshit, he adds, “a real meal.”

You fiddle with the ends of his hair, wincing. “…Last night?”

Even if you could protest, could claim that you weren’t all that hungry, your traitorous stomach roars again. You snatch your hands away from him, pressing them to your middle as though you can silence the way your belly gurgles with hunger.

Busted.

“Sorry,” you mutter, too mortified to meet his eyes. “Ignore that, we can keep going –”

“I’m not competing with your stomach. If I’m gonna have you moaning, I want to hear you.” Sanemi kisses the tip of your nose and untangles himself from you, dragging his fingers teasingly along the bare skin of your thighs before he steps back entirely. “’Sides, you need to eat.”

You rub a hand over your grumbling belly. “It’s not that bad –”

“You’re an ass when you’re hungry.”

You can’t fight him on that, no matter how your cheeks warm. Sanemi has experienced your hungered wrath far too many times. Still part of you itches to wipe that triumphant smugness right off his face as he dons one of your frilly, thrifted oven mitts and fishes the pizza out of the oven.

—

Once he’s ensured you’ve eaten enough and washed your dishes, Sanemi sets to work on your bed, righting the mess he’d made of your covers. The moment everything is back in its place, even the obnoxious throw pillows you’d hurled at his head, he turns to you, expectant.

“Well?” He pats your newly remade bed. “Come on. You said you don’t feel well, so get over here and rest.”

For once, you don’t fight him, nor do you so much as attempt to snark back at him for trying to boss you around. You simply slink back to your bed and flop down without a shred of grace or care.

Sighing, Sanemi kicks off his shoes and slides in behind you. Admittedly, when he’d played out the number of ways tonight could go in his head, he hadn’t envisioned nursing you against the debilitating side effects of your period as one of those possibilities.

Still, Sanemi can’t imagine any place he’d rather be.

His body fits against yours with ease, and the way his arm winds around your waist feels natural; automatic. For so long, he’d been navigating the world, unaware that something was missing; that he was incomplete. Sure, maybe he’d felt off to some extent — like there was a gap somewhere among his parts, one that he never knew quite how to fill.

But here, in your bed, his body half-draped over yours, his face, tucked into the crook of your neck, Sanemi finally knows what it means to feel whole. It fills him with such giddiness, such joy, he almost can’t quite figure out what to do with it. There’s a lightness in his chest he’s never felt before, a weightlessness to his limbs. He is floating, and there is nothing to bring him back down to earth; no chain, no binds, no obligations. There is only his desire to be here, with you, however you want him.

Your hands reach back and latch around his wrist, tugging his arm over you. You then slide his hand beneath your shirt, pressing it flat to your lower belly.

Sanemi smiles against the nape of your neck as you sigh in relief. “What’s that about?”

“You’re warm,” you groan, snuggling back against him. “Heat helps cramps.”

He squeezes you close and presses a kiss against your ear. “Use me as much as you need, then.”

Your soft laugh is intoxicating. Finally, some of the tension in your limbs eases and you relax into him, seemingly having found the right position to quell the throbbing ache in your stomach. Happiness. This must be happiness. Because here, he finally gets to just be Sanemi. Your Sanemi.

——

For a long while, you lay together in comfortable silence. The fading light streaming through the great, arched windows over your heads is his only measure of time, and soon, the lighting of your apartment dims. Now, there is only the soft, yellow glow of your various lamps and strings of fairy lights that coat your studio, creating a cozy cave he never wants to leave.

Curled behind you as he is, Sanemi can’t quite tell whether you’ve finally succumbed to sleep. Your breathing is slow, and while you haven’t spoken in a while, you could just as easily be basking in the relaxed comfort of his arms, lingering somewhere in between sleep and consciousness.

It’s how he wishes he could be; at ease, half-heartedly fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. But no; Sanemi is wide the fuck awake, his body stiffer than a board.

Despite your tentative relaxedness, you still squirm every so often,

struggling to find a position that will allow you the most relief from the throbbing ache in your lower stomach.

He doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally — in fact, he’s almost certain you aren’t. But if you don’t stop grinding your ass against him, Sanemi might just snap.

He’d already had to quietly fight off the pain in his groin after getting hot and heavy with you in the kitchen, before he’d realized he needed to take care of your grumbling stomach at the expense of his blue balls. But here you are now, rotating your perfect ass right into his crotch as he grows harder than a fucking diamond, with no relief from the onslaught of your wiggling in sight.

It just feels cruel.

“Knock it off,” Sanemi finally grumbles into your ear, arms squeezing once around your waist in warning. “You tryin’ to make me cream my pants?”

“It’s not my fault,” you groan miserably. “I can’t get comfortable.”

“Don’t you take meds?”

Another groan. “Already did.”

Sanemi fights the swear building on his tongue. He’s acutely aware that you’re not at fault for the way his traitorous body reacts to your movements, but he finds himself wavering dangerously close to losing mind. Each twisting movement of your ass is barely more than a whisper of the contact he craves and yet somehow, it’s just enough to make his cock throb for more.

It takes a great deal of self-restraint for Sanemi not to grab your hips and grind you back against him properly. But he manages to cling to that fraying thread, almost proud of his astounding commitment to his self-control, when you swivel your ass right against the crotch of his pants, groaning in frustration.

That’s when Sanemi snaps.

With a disapproving click of his tongue, he flips you to your back and under him. You’re his woman now, after all; that means it’s on him to take care of business.

“You still got cramps?” He hovers close over you, nose nearly bumping yours.

Wide-eyed and blushing at his proximity, you nod.

“You took your meds already?”

Another nod.

“And they ain’t helping?”

This time, you slowly shake your head.

A smile, a wickedly devious smile, spreads across his lips. “I know what will.”

Sanemi sits back on his knees and grabs a fistful of his shirt. In a single, smooth movement, he yanks it clean over his head.

“What are you --?” You sit up on your elbows, cheeks heating as your eyes roam the rocky planes of his chest and abdomen. Your mouth waters. “What are you doing?”

Sanemi crawls back over you, shutting you up with another kiss. Before you can break away to repeat yourself, he presses his hips to yours and grinds.

He’s harder than stone.

Silky lips dance down your chin before sliding to explore your jaw. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“I told you, I’m — oh — on my period!”

“So?”

“So, it’s — it’s — messy!” You stammer, your cheeks turning crimson as Sanemi’s lips continue their heated path down your neck.

He snorts against your collar bone. “You got towels, don’t you?”

The cockiness of his tone stuns you silent. Sanemi huffs in triumph and busies himself with sucking a bruise into your skin, right over your throat.

“Sanemi,” you squirm under his mouth, hands tugging at his hair, though even you don’t know whether you’re trying to command his attention or push him back.

With an annoyed grunt, Sanemi tears his mouth away from your skin to glare at you. “If you want to say no because you’re uncomfortable with it, then we can stop.” And, despite the faint, irritated twist of his mouth, his eyes are sincere. “But if you’re only complaining because you think I’ll mind —“

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you murmur, shyly looking away. “But, Sanemi —“

Your protest is smothered by a warm, firm hand closing over your mouth. Sanemi leans down until his forehead nearly touches yours. “Do you want me to stop?”

You blink up at him. After a moment of hesitation, you slowly shake your head, eyes wide.

“Then shut up.”

His hand slides away from your mouth and skirts down the length of your arm. His fingers close around your wrist and he wraps your arm around his shoulders.

He leans in to resume attacking your neck with his mouth, descending down your body with heavy, open mouthed kisses. When he reaches your navel, he shifts his hold to your waist and in a single, swift movement, he flips you atop him.

You gasp into his mouth as you settle against him, his hardening bulge pressing into the apex of your thighs. A deep, gravelly moan vibrates in Sanemi’s throat when you begin pushing your hips down to meet the hardness protruding into you, your movements out of your control.

For a moment, you remain like that, your body pressed flush to his as you gasp and grind against each other, your kisses little more than a desperate clash of lips and teeth and tongue. Sanemi is the first to break away, his mouth trailing hotly down the column of your throat.

One arm stretches up the length of your back, his broad hand curling around your shoulder as the arm locked around your waist tightens. His hold on you sufficiently sturdy, Sanemi forces you to grind harder against him, his teeth nipping across your collarbone as you whimper above him.

The ache between your legs is sharper, more intense than usual; closer to a burning throb than a mere flicker of desire.

The hand he’d kept on your shoulder slides down your back, his fingers dragging teasingly along your spine until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. He snaps it once, twice, savoring your little jolts each time the elastic bites at your skin, before he pushes below it to grip your bare ass.

Your fingers fly to his hair as he fondles the plush curve of you in his hand, alternating between gentle massages and rough squeezes. Each pleading little mewl that slips past your lips only drives him wilder with need, his cock throbbing where it strains against the seat of his pants.

He sucks a bruise into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. He will not give in; not yet, not before you beg him for what he’s been itching to give you for the last week.

With a fierce whine, you circle your own hips, unsuccessfully trying to maneuver his hand away. Your own hand drops from his hair to cup his jaw as you pant against his ear.

He hides his smirk against your collar bone. “You got somewhere you want me to be, Y/N?” He croons, bucking harshly into your clothed center. His fingers dip to the crease between your ass and the top of your thigh, playing dangerously close to where he knows you need him most.

He can feel the heat radiating from you, beckoning him to closer, a beacon meant only for him. “You just gotta ask, Princess. I’m right here, waitin’.”

“S-Sanemi —“

Without warning, Sanemi sits up, forcing you to scramble to lock your legs around him for support. He scoots to the edge of your bed, his grip on you firm, until his legs drape over its side. With you in his lap, he throws a steadying arm behind him as you sit perched atop his thigh.

“There. Wanted to see you properly.”

He traces the tip of his finger around the tightened bud of your right breast, just over your shirt, eyes bright and crinkled in amusement as you squirm.

It’s not enough; not nearly so.

With a wicked grin, he leans in, resuming his torturously slow exploration of your neck. Your reaction to him is instant, as you grind and squirm atop him, your fingers fisting at his hair.

But, even he grows tired of this constant teasing. Impatient, he plants one hand at the base of your spine, pressing your body flush against his, while the other slides down your front, his fingers playing with the hem of your top.

Right now, there’s only one thing – well, two things – he wants, and your damn shirt is getting in his way.

The moment you shudder against him as his fingers brush the skin below your nazel is the moment he yanks your t-shirt up, revealing your peaked, aching breasts right to his hungry gaze.

He presses its hem to your lips. “Hold this.”

Your pupils blow wide at the cockiness of his demand. Slowly, you part your lips and allow Sanemi to latch the bottom of your shirt between your teeth.

He gives you only a warning look, a stern narrowing of his eyes that says, don’t even think about dropping it, before he turns his attention back to your chest, pausing to whistle appreciatively at the sight of you, bare before him.

In addition to being stuck with murderous cramps, one of the other terrible side effects of your period is how damn sore your breasts get. Often, you can hardly stand to wear a bra, the burning ache in your chest damn near unbearable.

And there his mouth is, so close yet so far. The memory of just how expertly he’d navigated you the last time with his mouth makes your nipples stiffen, adds gasoline to the fire burning hotly in your lower belly.

With a whimper, you thrust your chest toward him.

“Oh?” Sanemi raises an eyebrow in mock surprise. Idly, his index finger traces a circle around your right nipple, followed by another. “Sensitive are we?” He smirks. “Looks like you’re achin’ for some attention, sweetheart.”

His breath fans hotly across one of your stiff nipples, and you swear it throbs as Sanemi exhales against your skin again, teasing.

You could cry. Aching, indeed.

He smirks against your breast. “I can help with that.”

His lips part and Sanemi sucks your breast right into his mouth, groaning between sloppy, wet smacks of his mouth. The ache between your legs intensifies with every suck, every graze of his teeth and flick of his tongue.

“Pretty,” he hums against your nipple, and the vibrations from his mouth make your thighs clench together. He takes the breast not occupied by his mouth into his hand, lavishing it with the same worship as he gives the other, squeezing and rolling it until you’re whimpering over the mouthful of your shirt.

He pulls back, a thin strand of saliva connecting his lips with your nipple that breaks when he speaks. “Prettiest I’ve ever fuckin’ seen, just like the rest of you.”

Sanemi’s mouth is wet and hot as it trails across your sternum, taking your other soft mound into mouth while his hand migrates to the other, his fingers swirling the saliva he’d left behind into your flesh. He pinches your nipple in time with the graze of his teeth over the one sucked between his lips.

It’s too much; the pulsing ache between your legs has grown too riotous, too incessant, and you’re desperate for relief. The muscles of his thigh notched between your legs flex like he knows; baiting you.

You fall for it, hook, line and sinker, just as he wanted, your hips beginning a tentative grind against his leg.

Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth as you find a steady pace, rocking and grinding against him. It soaks the fabric of your shirt as you fight to keep from loosening your jaw. Everything Sanemi is doing feels so fucking good, and you’ll be damned to mess that up for yourself.

There it is again — that familiar knot in your stomach, one that rapidly pulls tighter and tighter the more you circle and grind against his thigh. Through your lashes, you can see Sanemi’s gaze locked heatedly on your face, a ravenous hunger in his eyes.

“You gonna cum just from this, sweetheart?” Despite his attempt at derision, his voice is rougher than gravel. His hands latch around your hips, shifting you until you’re perched right over the rock-hard bulge that has formed beneath the seat of his pants.

In answer, you grind even harder against him, riding him with abandon as your nails dig into his shoulders. Moaning, Sanemi wraps his lips back around your tender nipple, and soon, he’s bucking up into you with equal fervor, the two of you gasping into one another.

The hand pressed to your ass squeezes, Sanemi pushing you harder into him. You might just come like this, grinding against his bulge, Sanemi, mouthing hotly at your swollen breasts, tugging and nipping at your skin with his teeth. Everything feels heightened, your senses overwhelmed by him and his mouth until you buzz with the need for more. The knot in your stomach tightens, tightens —

The stiffened seam of his pants catches your clit at precisely the right angle, and you fall apart. The whine that vibrates in your throat is nothing short of pathetic; a keening little plea as you fist at his hair, pressing his face into your chest while you grind desperately into him. Your orgasm sweeps over you, both a relief and a taunt; a hollow echo of the release you crave, the high he’d given you that night that you’d pathetically chased since without success.

Sanemi only sucks at you harder. He finally releases you when the last feeble wave washes through, when he feels the tension in your limbs, settle.

“God damn,” he says roughly, imparting a final few flicks of his tongue across your nipple. “That was fuckin’ beautiful.”

With a last, harsh suck, Sanemi’s mouth leaves your sore chest with a soft pop. You barely have time to push the dampened hemp of your shirt from your mouth before the muscles of his arms ripple and flex around you. In an instant, you’re back under him, caged against your mattress by his hulking mass.

It’s thrilling, how easily he manhandles you, his touch firm and assured. Yet, no matter how capable he is of throwing you around — no matter how easily he can overpower those ever bigger and meaner than you — his gentleness with you never wavers.

Sanemi wastes no time guiding your shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere over his shoulder. His mouth trails after his hands, and faster than you can blink, he rips your shorts down your legs, tossing them carelessly off the side of the bed.

His fingers slide over the front of your underwear, circling. “There,” he marvels with a satisfied click of his tongue. “You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

You don’t bother to tell him the wetness he feels might very well be from your period – after all, you’re wearing your speciality underwear, the kind that doesnt’ require you to wear tampons or pads. But you also don’t think Sanemi would care much either way, given how he continues circling your clit, savoring the way your legs spasm and jerk beneath him.

Moaning, your thighs widen for him and Sanemi continues the languid turn of his fingers. You think he means to make you come again, and it’s embarrassing how quickly your body commits to that effort, but he pulls his hand away.

Your whine needles some remorse out of him. He ducks to press a sweet kiss against your knee. “Be right back.”

His weight on your bed lifts, and Sanemi quickly vanishes around the corner of the wall that blocks your bed from the view of the small hallway containing your bathroom, one cabined by your laughably tiny linen closet.

He reappears a few seconds later, one of your towels in hand.

“Hips up,” he orders, motioning for you to lift yourself from the mattress. Wide-eyed, you obey, your heart fluttering in your throat.

“For the record, I don’t care if we use a towel,” Sanemi tells you as he spreads it beneath you, creating a barrier between your body and your blankets. “I’d wash the sheets for ya once we finished. But if you prefer to use it, that’s fine by me.”

His hands guides you back down against the bed and linger once you settle, his fingers teasing along the jut of your hip. “But a period ain’t gonna stop me from helping my girl feel good.” He bends down to seal his promise with his lips against your thigh.

Off the side of your bed, Sanemi straightens, his movements easy and self-assured in every way you aren’t. Keeping his eyes locked with yours, he unbuckles his belt, the click of metal sending an electric current right between your legs. Wordlessly, he shucks his pants and briefs down his legs.

Your mouth runs dry; his cock looks somehow bigger, more imposing than it had that first night. Ramrod straight and leaking, the thick head of him smacking up against his abdomen.

He pauses in front of you, close enough that you can feel the heat rolling off his body, and yet he maintains the smallest distance between you, holding back just enough to drive you mad.

You want to snap at him; to demand he ease the fire he’d ignited in your blood, to touch you in that way only he knew. But your desire for him makes your mind blank, and though you know your vocabulary is better than most, you can’t remember the words necessary to form your demand.

For Sanemi’s part, his eyes are locked heatedly on your face, alight with the hint of a challenge; baiting you to see how long it will take before you crack.

His voice is as coarse as gravel. “Come here.”

Normally, you’d balk at his attempts to order you around, and instead offer him some snappy retort or a petulant roll of your eyes. Here, however, Sanemi has the upper hand, and your need is too great to try and wrestle it back from him.

Careful not to disturb the towel spread so carefully atop your mattress, you rise. Sanemi watches your every movement with a hunger he doubts can ever be fully sated. His fingers find yours, and slowly, he pulls you into him, your chest squishing lightly against his abdomen.

You gaze up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as his hands slide over your hips, marveling at the silkiness of your skin. With a teasing languidness, he loops his fingers under the band of your underwear, one at a time. Slowly, he drags them down the length of your legs, lowering himself to his knees as he slides it over your feet. All the while, his gaze remains locked with yours, pressing his lips reverently to the fleshy part above your knee while his hands run up and down your calves.

Your scent makes his mouth water: a sweet musk, tinged with the faintest trace of iron, and utterly intoxicating. The temptation to lean in and taste the paradise between your thighs is strong, but Sanemi resists. Instead, he rises back to his full height with the same slowness as before, his nose nearly touching yours.

His eyes drop to your mouth right as your tongue flicks out to wet your lips, and Sanemi descends upon you like a tidal wave.

“Fuck.” He growls, hand closing around the back of your neck as he jerks you forward and crashes his mouth down against yours.

Whatever remained of your self-doubt and uncertainty fizzles under the weight of his intensity. All at once, you feel like the most alluring creature ever to grace the planet, a temptress worthy of the great epics gathering dust at the store. Sanemi’s kiss is feverish and urgent and all-consuming; he kisses you like a man parched, your lips his only salvation.

Eager hands wrap under your thighs and haul you up, up, up. Your gasp of surprise at your sudden weightlessness is swallowed up by Sanemi’s tongue sweeping into your mouth.

Down the two of you fall, a breathless heap of tangled limbs and shared moans landing on your bed. This time, your legs part for him without his guidance, and Sanemi settles easily into the cradle of your thighs.

Only your second time and already, your bodies are moving together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You’re drawing him in like a magnet, your body his North Star.

What a fucking idiot he was, to not have realized it sooner.

Your kisses turn sloppy and he feels you draw your legs up, your knees braced against his sides. He hisses as his bare length grazes your wet center, the head radiating from you making him throb.

He rubs his cock against your damp heat again and again, his nails biting into your sheets as he resists the urge to thrust forward before he’s properly lubricated for you.

Beneath him, you tense. “N-now?” You squeak, your nails digging into his shoulders as he rubs himself against the slick heat of you.

He almost groans. “Yeah, now.” If he has to wait any longer, he might go insane.

“But — but — don’t you want a condom —?”

Sanemi scowls as he drags his tip up and down your slit before pressing against your entrance. Fuck no, he doesn’t.

“Shhh. What’d I say?” He quells your worrying with a mighty thrust of his hips. The coppery slickness of you mixed with your arousal means there’s no resistance, and so, Sanemi sheathes himself to the hilt inside you in a single, fluid movement. “Shut up and let me take care of you, yeah?”

You answer him with a high-pitched cry, one that almost borders a small scream, and he’s hard-pressed to restrain himself from joining you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sanemi grinds out. “Holy shit, sweetheart.”

He thought he’d been close to losing his mind that first time, but the feeling of you now, tighter and hotter than before, and so fucking wet, threatens to untether him from reality all together.

In fact, he realizes as his hips begin moving on their own, he’s likely already lost control. He begins with slow, shallow thrusts, but his movements quickly melt into hard, deep rolls of his hips that are little more than base instinct. He is driven only by the need for more, to push himself as deep as he can possibly go until the two of you fuse together as one.

You’re writhing beneath him, toes curling against your mattress, too overwhelmed by the feeling of him being buried inside you. Not that Sanemi is faring much better. It’s taking him a surprising amount of self-restraint to keep himself from coming right then, too lost in the heaven of your body.

Amazed that he’s still able to form a coherent thought, he manages to ask, “You still on that pill?”

He has no intentions of using condoms ever again, not after experiencing the euphoria that is your bare pussy. But your answer will determine where he comes.

He feels you nod as your teeth catch his bottom lip, beseeching him for a kiss he’s only happy to oblige. He grunts into you, a needy, guttural sound as he works to set his pace. “You want me to pull out?”

You pause for a moment and then with wide eyes, you slowly shake your head.

Sanemi smiles against your mouth. “Good. Me neither.”

Sure, his rule against having children while still entrenched within the Corps’ operations threatens to go up in smoke, but you’re on birth control. And, as he’s learned, he can’t follow rules for shit when it comes to you.

He nudges your head to the side, burying his face against the exposed length of your neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he inhales deeply, mouth pressed to your skin. “I fuckin’ missed you.”

For the past week, his body has been rebelling against him, too restless to sleep, to think, to do anything but roar its discontent with him. But here, buried to the hilt inside you as he is, a calmness trickles through his veins, steadying him, bringing him back into himself.

He should’ve known, he thinks as he rolls his hips with yours, working to set his pace. It’s you. It has always been you.

Beneath him, you fare no better, just as overwhelmed by your reunion with his body as he is with yours. That burning stretch is still there, just as it had been that first night, but it’s nowhere near as sharp as it had been then. Still, it takes a moment to adjust to his intrusion, despite how ready you’d been to receive him. After all, Sanemi is on the larger end of the scale; not that you have anything in particular to compare him to. But his cock is a little longer than the length of your hand, and thick.

And god, does he know how to use it. No wonder he’s so insufferably smug all the time. He’d earned his bragging rights a hundred times over.

You’re both panting, his forehead pressed to yours as your noses bump together. Your fingers twist in his hair, desperate to find an anchor the more Sanemi threatens to to send you over the edge of your sanity.

You try, bless you, to meet his movements, your hips tentatively jerking to meet his thrusts, to help him plunge deeper.

Your effort makes him melt. “Just let me do all the work, sweetheart.” He coos, pressing you firmly into your bed, limiting your movements with his weight. “You ain’t gotta do a thing but take it.”

Truth be told, Sanemi is dreaming of the day you’ll ride him. In addition to reminiscing how fucking good your pussy tastes, Sanemi also hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how you will look perched atop him, your hips rolling and dropping frantically against his, tits bouncing. But right now, you’re the one who needs to be taken care of, and he’s more than happy (if not downright insistent) that he’s the man for the job.

You give into him easily, sinking into the mattress and letting your legs spread wider, relaxed. Sanemi smothers his throaty hum of approval into your neck, sucking and biting his claim into your skin.

The air between you grows thick with the scent of iron and sex, clouding his head and further loosening whatever hold he pretends to have over the monstrous, feral thing inside him. The one that only wants to pin you down and take you harder, rougher, until you can’t fathom being anything else but his.

He’s only able to cling onto that last bit of self-control because he’s so focused on you, all too aware of your limits. Those big, watery eyes of yours are pools he can drown in, and the wobble in your lower lip as he hits deeper nearly drives him insane. God, he can’t believe he denied himself of this for so long – of you, of the privilege of taking care of you, of making you cry out his name and beg for more.

“God, you’re perfect.” He moans out in praise. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

Though it’s only your second time, your bodies slide together like it’s the most natural thing in the world; easier than breathing. You are an extension of him as much as he is of you, and he can’t even chalk it up to his eye for detail. The observations he’d made of you last time had nothing to do with survival. It was instinctual. Sanemi hadn’t needed to work to memorize you; he’d known you the second your skin met his.

It’s this familiarity that guides him now, Sanemi’s lips and teeth and hands finding every spot that makes you moan, gasp, bite your lip until it nearly bleeds while you scratch at him and urge him closer.

Though he’s admittedly half-fucked out of his mind with euphoria as you clench and pulse around him, Sanemi does note that some of your uncertainty toward your own body has returned. Your hands drift from his hair to his face before dropping to clutch at his shoulders. As Sanemi’s movements gain momentum, making you bounce against the mattress, your nails lightly – hesitantly – crest into his skin.

He chuckles against the shell of your ear. “You can cling to me as much as you want, darlin’. I don’t mind.” He rolls his hips more purposefully this time, the arm around your waist tightening, forcing you to arch harder into him. “I’ll take good care of my girl.”

His knees shift forward and Sanemi pulls back to study you. It’s hard to know where to rest his eyes; you look fucking incredible under him like this, hair fanned out, framing your head like a halo; your breasts, peaked and mouthwateringly full, bouncing perfectly in time with his movements.

But it’s your face that catches his attention; the way you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, coupled with how your inner walls flex around him, as though in answer, your pupils blown wide with desire.

His free arm pushes under your knee and your pretty mouth falls open at deepening the reach of his cock. “You like it when I call you that, huh? My girl.”

Tears cling to your eyelashes. You manage only a hurried, jerky nod of your head, incapable of making any sound more intelligent than a few whimpers.

“Yeah?” And he pins you down harder into the mattress with a snarl, his arm pressing your leg nearly to your shoulders. “Good, ‘cause you are.”

The lewd squelching of Sanemi’s cock bullying relentlessly against your swollen, aching walls grows louder. He untangles his arm from under your leg to move above your head, bracing his weight on his fist where it’s balled into the mattress. He uses his new position to increase the force of his thrusts, his legs straightening out behind him, his feet digging into the bed as he draws his cock nearly all the way out of your heat, before plunging right back in.

“And this is all mine, too, isn’t it?” A free hand wedges between your bodies, Sanemi slapping lightly at your clit. You cry out as he repeats the action again, but when he presses down at the next contact of his fingers and circles them, a howl of his name rips free.

He tucks his dark chuckle into your throat, his teeth nipping just above where your pulse flutters. “Yeah, it is. ‘Cuz you’re my girl. My good fuckin’ girl.”

Your cunt clenches around him in steady pulses, every fleck of your slick warmth fogging his brain. It’s unreal, the way you respond to the filth pouring from his mouth. It nearly drives him insane; here he is, someone who has only ever known hell, yet he’s managed to steal away his own piece of heaven.

Rough fingers tighten around your hip, pulling you harder to meet him. Sheer desire may have clouded his head in those first moments, his delight in getting to have you making him over-eager to get you naked, but the fog is rapidly dissipating. Instead, as he moves, Sanemi’s dizzying pleasure becomes edged by solemnity.

Sure, sex has always been an easier way to work through emotions he wasn’t allowed to feel, but that sort of self-distraction can’t fly anymore. Not with you; not when you mean everything.

He was your first and he wants to be your last. Your only.

None of this is temporary; he hadn’t told you he was all in until he got bored, or until one of the thousand reasons couples break up came along to give him the first pass to skip town. He didn’t attach any strings to that key. You need to know. You need to know how fucking serious he is about this. You.

But in case any ambiguities remain, let him clear them up now.

“Can’t believe I wasted all that fuckin time on the others when I could’ve had you. You used to smile at me, you remember that?” Sanemi draws his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside before slamming back into you. “When we were in school. Used to make me go dumb in the head when ya did.”

The wet, sticky squelching where your bodies connect only grows louder as Sanemi increases his pace. “And then I’d see you smile at others and it drove me nuts. But then I realized you were smilin’ special for me — and not just because you were bein’ polite. You meant it.”

He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his mouth sucking a harsh bruise into your skin that he soothes with his tongue. “Should’ve made you mine back then.” He growls, and below him, you tense. “Should’ve made you my girl and taken you far away from here. Might’ve even become a better man, if I had. I would’ve, if I’d known. That you were fuckin’ made for me — fuck!” Sanemi throws his head back as you squeeze tighter around him.

He drops his gaze back down to your face. Though your eyes are glassy with pleasure, there’s recognition there, an understanding that parts your lips as the weight of his words settles.

I would’ve wanted you, then.

Judging by the dent that appears between your eyebrows, he knows his silent confession isn’t lost on you, even as a sharp cry tears from your throat.

Sanemi leans down and kisses you, roughly, in confirmation. “And I don’t just mean your body,” he breaks away from your lips with a pant. “You were fuckin’ made for me. Wish I’d known it back then.”

He gives a sharp twist of his hips on his next plunge in, making you bow away from the bed and into him with a cracked moan. But Sanemi lets his weight press you right back down, your bodies rolling together as one.

There’s a limberness to your body that hadn’t been there that first time; a relaxedness in your limbs now that you know what to expect, one that has you opening your thighs a little wider, an invitation for him to hit deeper that he’s only too happy to accept.

“Oh fuck — that’s it, baby. Yes.” He can’t be bothered to feel embarrassed by the way his voice strains as he shouts, “Fuck!”

As tight as you’d been when he’d first entered you, nothing compares to the way you’re squeezing his cock, now. You’ve sharpened the arch in your spine, smushing your breasts into his chest as you offer him to take more and more. So firm is the hold of your body over his, that Sanemi finds it increasingly difficult to thrust, and he resigns himself instead to holding hard by the hips and grinding.

A too familiar tingle at the base of his spine prickles. He going to come and soon, and that’s unacceptable. His entire sexual history has been predicated on two rules: no unprotected encounters and no cumming before his partner.

He’d thrown the first rule to the wind with enthusiastic ease; but he’ll be damned if he starts reneging on the second. Not when he’s promised to take care of you.

Sanemi’s hand unlatches from its place above your hip to push between your bodies. Your eyes roll back into your head and your jaw goes slack when his thumb finds your aching clit and swirls, coaxing you to relax into the bed and ease some of your iron-tight grip.

“S — San —“ you try, but whatever thought you’re trying to string together dies in your throat under a keening wine as Sanemi shallowly thrusts into you.

He grits his teeth. Not enough; he’s still too damn close. His balls have become painfully tight, and the electric prickle he feels has bled into his stomach, forming a know that’s becoming tauter by the second.

He won’t be able to hold off for much longer.

“C’mere, baby.” He manages with a croak. “Need ya to cum for me.” And with some remorse, he withdraws his hand. It joins the other in smoothing down the sides of your thighs, bending each leg at your knee. “Keep ‘em up. I’m gonna get real deep, okay?”

He anchors himself against your sheets and settles. The adjustment pushes him deeper inside your warmth and a small moan escapes your mouth. Sanemi begins rocking into you, gentle at first, but gradually faster. “Might feel a bit strange, but I need ya to trust me. I’ll take care of you.”

Knees nearly to your chest, you nod. Tentative whimpers soon melt into steady cries that pace with his movements. Before long, your hips are rolling up and away from the bed with his, your toes curling in the air.

The hand he has braced next to your head fists at your sheets. This new position means you’re even tighter than before, and the extra slickness from your period has him bumping up against all the right places in record time.

Below, you squirm and claw at him, but your moans only grow louder as Sanemi continues to reach deeper within your swollen, tender walls, searching for the spot he knows will have you unraveling.

“S-Sanemi,” you whine, your nails digging into the corded muscles of his back

“I know you’re feelin’ sensitive, baby, but you’ll feel better if you cum. Can you do that for me?”

Eager to ease you into agreement, he rewards you with a trail of slow, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The knot in his stomach tightens, but Sanemi resists; his self-control used to be a source of pride, and he’s determined to cling onto whatever thread of it remains.

Thankfully, you flutter and clench around him, a broken moan lilting out of you in answer.

Relief courses through him. “Yes, baby — that’s it. Shit.” His eyes squeeze shut and he focuses on the sharp sting of your nails raking down his back, willing the pain to ground him as he fights off his own orgasm. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it.”

He hasn’t dared forget how it feels when you’re at your breaking point; sweet, slick walls pulsing and clenching wildly around him, every muscle in your body strung tight as you wait for that coil in your gut to spring.

It’s all he’s thought about for the last eleven days.

And when you confirm with a jerky, frantic nod, Sanemi leans in and presses his lips to your forehead. “Let’s make it a big one, yeah?”

Without waiting for a response, Sanemi drops his head to the pillow below. Slowly, he allows his weight to sink into you, pushing him further into your warmth. You cry out when his tip kisses a spot deep within you, a slight tinge of pain sparking through your lower abdomen that intensifies when he hits it again and again. Your nails rake down his back and tears well hot and fast in your eyes as Sanemi begins rutting hard and fast into you, no sound leaving your mouth but a series of strangled, choked gasps.

It hurts, the way he hammers away at that spot. You can’t deny it. But it also feels so fucking incredible that you can’t fathom him stopping now. Ever.

He churns harshly with every brutal snap of his hips, the coarse, rough hairs of his base scraping right against your clit, until that coil behind your navel cinches impossibly tight.

“Sanemi —“ you squeak, but nothing else follows, save a single, choked gasp.

It’s over and he knows it.

“Go on, sweetheart.” His voice husky and warm, murmuring in your ear. “Show me who you belong to.”

That’s all it takes; with a guttural gasp, you seize around him like a vice. Your limbs tense even as a warmth bursts deep from within your stomach.

Your first orgasm with him had been powerful; this one is a cataclysm.

Climax rips through you like a hurricane; an explosion of pleasure that fractures you apart, shatters you into hundreds of fractals that all sing one name until your throat burns.

Sanemi only fucks you harder.

Everything falls away; the industrial iron piping on your ceiling, the faint golden glow of the fairy lights woven around your headboard, even the rough fabric of the towel spread beneath you. All of it fades to white as you freefall into an endless ocean that’s precisely the color of the eyes you love most.

Thick fingers close around your jaw, urging your face towards his. Far away, in the deep throes of your own ecstasy, you hear his soft whisper of your name, a string tugging you through the waves. You follow it all the way back to where you lie, sandwiched between your bed and his body. Through pleasure-bleary eyes, you find him watching you with a hunger that only intensifies the harder you come around him.

Somehow, despite the fact he has now seen every inch of your undressed body, the way his eyes hold yours has you feeling stripped to the bone. Beneath his ravenous, dark gaze, you are flayed open, no part of you left hidden. Truly naked.

He has to see it, you think even as you continue to wail his praise. He has to, spread beneath him as you are. He has to know every corner of you bears his name.

A brutal snap of his hips sends Sanemi’s cock right into that wonderfully painful place, your back arching hard off the bed as another great wave picks you up and slams you against the shore that is him. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you continue to sob from the force of your orgasm until finally, the tide recedes, sending you plummeting back to the mess of blankets below.

Sanemi’s arms catch you before you land.

He lets your legs drop from his shoulders and replaces them with your arms. Though limp, you manage to summon your residual strength to tighten your hold around his neck, clinging to him.

Satisfied, no longer does Sanemi try and hold back his ragged moans and grunts as he chases his release. Not that he’d given much of a shit about it before, but Sanemi finds that he really can’t muster one now.

His hands curl around the edge of your mattress above your head, Sanemi using his grip for leverage, deepening the reach of his cock until he can’t tell where you end and he begins.

“Oh fuck — oh fuck —“ Sanemi can’t stop the filth pouring from his mouth as the familiar prickle at the base of his spine grows hotter, more electric.

He’s going hard; the entire bed creaks and rocks with the force of his movements, the bedposts rhythmically knocking up against your wall with pronounced thumps. “Fuck, I’m gonna come — baby, I’m gonna come —“

Beneath him, your moans have resumed though they now carry the faint cadence of a whimper. Somewhere, in the back of his pleasure-addled mind, Sanemi knows you’re probably overstimulated, but his pace only increases. He can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop, not when he’s so fucking close, not when it’s been so fucking long —

Unintentionally, you graze the raised skin of his brand, and Sanemi tosses his head back, hissing in approval. More, he wills, fucking into you harder. Do it more, carve your own claim into him. The Corp’s mark doesn’t mean shit to him, now.

Whether you understand the bruising demands of his hips or whether you’re simply reacting to their quick, hard snaps, you comply, your hands raking down his spine, Another powerful thrust throws your arm up his back, and you fumbles for purchase right in the dip between his shoulders.

Gasping, you sink your nails right into his mark, and Sanemi loses control.

With one last mighty push of his hips, Sanemi comes undone with a roar, his balls flush against your ass as his climax slams into him.

A strangled cry of your name is all he can manage before stars explode behind his eyelids. His jaw slackens, and his lower body moves on its own, his hips canting as his release barrels through him and into you, hot and thick. He’d sworn the first time he finished in you had been the hardest he’d ever came in his life. But then, your legs jerk around his waist, your shins locking together at the base of his spine as your thighs squeeze his hips, and his vision goes white.

For someone who has spent most of his sexually active years doggedly refusing to consider the idea of barebacking any of his former partners, Sanemi has a bitch of a time trying to remember why that is. Because nothing, not a goddamn thing at all, will ever compare to this.

Below him, you begin to mewl and whine, your hands clawing lightly at his chest in an effort to push him away. A voice blooms in the back of his head, a faint reminder that you’re likely overstimulated to the point of discomfort.

But it just feels too fucking good.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m still —“ Sanemi struggles against the deep groan vibrating in his throat as he continues to fuck you through his release. “Not — ngh — not done yet —“

He shifts, allowing his full weight to sink into you and still your squirming. He pushes your arms away from him, his hands wrapping around your biceps, pinning you down in place.

If you truly wanted him off, Sanemi would have obeyed, regardless of how badly he wanted to finish coming inside you. But though he has you held down, you still manage to rock your hips with his, your walls pulsing around him as his cum continues to fill you.

His cock twitches one last time, leaving Sanemi lightheaded and trembling as he finally finishes spending himself in you. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he drops his forehad against yours, panting. “You got me fuckin’ shaking.”

He unlatches his grip from your biceps in favor of bracing his forearms against your mattress, mindful to ease his full weight off you. Your fingers sweep through his hair, your other hand resting against the side of his neck, scratching at him until his eyes flutter open to reveal you craning your head up, a silent request for his kiss.

Sanemi obliges, and once he starts, he can’t stop. He doesn’t break the connection of your lips even as he pulls out, soothing your responding wince with a flick of his tongue. He stretches out on his side next to you, no room between your bodies as his arm nestles in the valley between your breasts, his hand cupping your cheek, kissing you all the while.

He lays with you like that for several moments until wetness graces his cheeks. Sanemi pulls back to see tears sliding down your face, more clinging to your eyelashes like tiny, glittering jewels.

Worry, hot and frantic, surges in his gut. “Hey, hey,” he kisses away the tracks staining your cheeks. “Was that okay? Was I too rough?”

You shake your head, turning it away from him to face your ceiling, your hand wiping tiredly at your eyes. “Not at all. I feel better – so much better. Less achy.” You roll your head back toward him, your eyes still watery but bright. “It’s just that – that was so fucking good. I didn’t expect it.”

That does little to assuage some of his concern. “What, it wasn’t good last time?”

You roll your eyes. “Not what I’m saying. I mean, I know I’m more sensitive than usual on my period. I’ve used toys before to help, but nothing has ever reduced me to tears from how good it felt.”

Instantly, his anxiety is washed away with a surge of pride that wells in his chest; a smugness that comes from the knowledge he’d fucked you so well you cried, but he keeps his boasts to himself.

Instead, Sanemi snorts. “Told ya I’d take care of you.”

You click your tongue, fidgeting as another gush of his cum leaks out of you. “Feels like you needed to be taken care of, too.”

“Haven’t jacked off in almost a week. Too much shit goin’ on.” He frowns before adding, “Plus, you’re all I wanted. My hand couldn’t compare to you.”

You roll your head back to face your ceiling, your eyes sliding closed and a blissful smile spreading across your lips. A smile that makes Sanemi’s own mouth part, his eyes growing wide, his cheeks, warm.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to your beauty.

Sanemi settles back down next to you, his body slightly lower on the bed than yours. He remains on his side, eyes tracing every detail of your serene expression as he presses kisses along your bare shoulder.

Moments pass, or maybe hours, and still, Sanemi does not tear his eyes away from you. Eventually, your breathing slows under his adoring gaze, and Sanemi knows you’re moments away from sleep.

He whispers your name and you crack an eye open. “You feel up for a shower?”

Sleepily, you nod, but you make no effort to rise from the plush comfort of your bed.

Sanemi sighs through his nose. “Need some help?”

“My legs don’t work anymore.” You can’t hold back your giggle as you roll to watch Sanemi shake his head at you before rising, his hand rumpling his hair. The blankets fall away from his lower hips, giving you a premium view of the world-class ass of Sanemi Shinazugawa, and you can’t help but smirk at the faint, red crescent marks dotting his skin, left behind by your nails. But the remnants of your post-sex haze dissipate the moment Sanemi and turns back to you, revealing the extent of the mess you’d left behind.

You blanch; his groin and cock are both covered in a sticky redness, a residue of your period blood mixed with both your cum and his.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Your hands flail as you try and wipe away all traces of blood from his groin and his softening cock, desperate to erase the evidence before he can see, before he can be disgusted by it, by you —

“Hey, hey — watch it —“ he growls as you brush your hand against his overly-sensitive cock. Sanemi’s hand snatches your wrist away from him, halting you mid-air. “Cut it out.”

Your cheeks burn with shame. “But —“

“Will ya stop worrying about it?” His fingers loosen around your wrist, and you retract your arm. “Look — see —“

Sanemi swipes his own hand through the mess you’d left behind and holds it up, your blood smeared on his fingers. “I don’t give a fuck. Kinda hot, actually.”

There is a mess of pink between your thighs, a combination of crimson mixed with his white that leaks out of you, staining your skin and the towel beneath you. He knows he’s wanton because he can’t stop thinking about how fucking pretty your pussy is.

Especially when it’s covered with him.

His tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “Definitely hot. And you’re gonna let me have a taste next time.”

Your thighs press together at the very obvious hunger in his stare. “Sorry my period interfered with your oral fixation.”

“Didn’t interfere with shit. When I say ‘next time’ I mean, next time you’re on it.”

You gape at him. “You’re not serious –”

“Very.”

Heat creeps up your neck. “Sanemi, it’ll be bloody –”

“I told you, I don’t give a shit. Only reason I didn’t do it tonight was ‘cuz I was worried you might stroke out.” He shoots you a naughty wink. “I’m still breakin’ you in, after all.”

The smugness in his tone ignites a fire in your cheeks, but before you can respond, the bed and blankets disappear from beneath you.

“C‘mon,” Sanemi grunts as he gathers you up in his arms. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

—

There is a stark contrast between sleeping with Sanemi Shinazugawa and showering with him.

Moments before, he’d been committed to fucking you senseless, seemingly not satisfied until you were reduced to a soggy, pleasure-drunk mess, only capable of gasping his name in stilted syllables.

None of that ferocity is present here, under the warm spray of the shower. Instead, Sanemi’s touch is soft, almost hesitant, as his arms encircle you, locking you in against his chest. His hand finds your face, and then his lips, and you melt into him. His kiss is not the passionate, possessive clash of tongue and teeth that it had been only moments before; this time, it is gentle. Chaste.

Any doubts which might have lingered in you as to the status of your relationship with him are quickly washed away, sliding down your legs with the water before mixing with the bubbles that slip down the drain. This is not a speck of softness marooned among an oasis of lust; this is not a temporary moment of affection between two people desperate to know it.

This is intimacy.

It is tenderness which warms Sanemi’s eyes as his mouth breaks from yours, that turns them into twin pools of amethyst as he brushes a wet strand of your hair away from your face. It’s adoration; a vulnerability he’d never dare show to just a hookup. This — he — is meant for you and you alone. And it is that silent understanding which passes between you that your hand moves to lay against his cheek, parrroting his gentle touch. And it is what makes you surge up boldly on your toes, your mouth slanting over his once more.

—-

By the time Sanemi wrenches your bathroom door open sometime later, allowing the steam from the shower to billow out into the open area of your studio, both of your fingers have turned wrinkly. He wagers you would’ve stayed in there longer, had your hot water supply not run out, your shower head dousing you both with water he reckons was dangerously close to freezing.

He’s the first to step out, though only because your bathroom is laughably small. He’s lucky the two of you managed to stand comfortably in your tub, but he doesn’t think that good fortune extends to you both drying off in the narrow space between your toilet, counter, and tub. Better he peel away now, and avoid starting a fight because you can’t mind your elbows.

Sanemi pads back to the bathroom, towel looped around his waist. “Took care of the towel on the bed. Threw it in the wash.” On cue, you hear the familiar click of your washing machine as it settles into its cycle. “Nothin’ got on your sheets, but I know some people can be picky. You okay sleeping on ‘em?”

“It’s fine,” you call from the bathroom. “Can you do me a favor? Top drawer of my dresser — there’s a row of black underwear. Throw me a pair?”

He returns a moment later, smirking as you hover in your bathtub, wrapped in an overlarge towel, waiting for him to bring you your panties. Like some internal code of decency prevents you from traipsing around your apartment in your towel like he does, even though he’s seen every inch of your body.

You emerge from the bathroom a moment later, still wrapped in your towel, right as Sanemi fishes something dark from its place on your floor.

He tosses his shirt to you. “You can wear that to bed, if you want. Not that you’ll hear me complain if you decide to sleep naked.” He shoots you a wink as he towels his hair. Pride wells in his chest at the sight of you slipping his tee over your head, and it soothes that hot, possessive streak within him. “Hope you don’t mind if I do, though. I’m not big on puttin’ dirty clothes back on after I’ve showered.”

“You’re —?” The surprise in your tone stills his hands, and he lifts his head. “Are you staying?”

Sanemi quirks an eyebrow at you. He’d thought it obvious he was, given the shower and how you’re now wearing his shirt. He studies you for a moment, notes how your hands twist together and the anxious shift of your weight from foot to foot.

A sudden sobriety settles over him. Of course; you’ve said you’d never been in a relationship before, which means all of this — having him over, showering with you, and sleeping in your bed — is brand new. As ready and committed as he is to you, perhaps this is all too much, too fast. It’s only natural for you to want to hit the brakes; to feel out this unfamiliar road.

“I don’t have to.” Embarrassment creeps up his neck. “We can slow this down, if that’s what you want. I’m not in any rush.”

Dumbass, he chides at himself. Granted, this is new territory for him as well. He at least thought his years of rotating partners in and out of his bed would’ve meant he had some tact, but here he is, jumping the gun.

Your eyes widen in alarm. “N-no! That’s not what I meant. I want you to stay -- I do. I just didn’t want you to think you had to.”

He can see how your cheeks darken as he draws near, can see the bob of your throat as you keep your eyes firmly glued to his, a concerted effort to keep from looking down, as though you haven’t seen, touched, felt every inch of his nudity.

A small smirk settles at the corner of his mouth.

Silently, Sanemi takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping your face tilted up towards his. He leans in and feels your eyelashes flutter against his nose in anticipation of his kiss.

Only millimeters separate your lips when he pauses. “Who else is gonna slobber all over me ‘til I fall asleep?”

Your eyes fly open. “Y-you—! I —!”

He silences your indignant sputtering with a quick peck to your lips. “Yeah, I’m stayin’. That key wasn’t just some empty gesture, idiot.”

You smack his chest half-heartedly, but laugh as you kiss him again. “Just get back in bed. I’ll make tea.”

Sanemi steps back with a cheeky smirk and lets his towel drop to the floor. “Yes ma’am.”

He must know your eyes are glued to his ass as he walks away, for he offers you a little wiggle as he retreats back to your bed.

“Don’t forget to pick your jaw up off the ground, sweetheart.” He calls smoothly over his shoulder, focused on meticulously peeling back the covers of your bed, layer by layer. “Can’t make tea if you’re drooling everywhere.”

Rolling your eyes, you disappear behind the half wall of your kitchenette. Maybe you should kick him out, naked ass and all.

Out in the main area, Sanemi has settled back into bed, his arms folded behind his head.

“There’s another reason it took me so long to see you, you know,” Sanemi stares up at the black pipes striped across the high ceilings of your apartment as you busy yourself with the kettle in the kitchen. “I went to see my brother.”

“Genya?” You poke your head out from the doorway. You disappear only when the kettle beeps, mugs clinking together as you pull them from one of your cabinets.

“Yeah.”

You reemerge a moment later, two steaming cups of tea clutched delicately in each hand. “He doesn’t live with you, right? He’s someplace far from here?”

Carefully, you set the mugs on your small bedside table. You crawl back into bed beside him, Sanemi’s arms opening to allow you to settle in against him, your head coming to rest against his pectoral.

“He’s enrolled in a boys’ boarding school.” He puffs his chest out in pride. “A damn good one, too.”

Boarding school. You’d known that Genya attended school in another city, and spent most of his time there at Sanemi’s insistence, but you’d assumed he’d had his brother stay with a friend or a local family.

Now, you think of Sanemi, with his patched-up leather jacket and worn boots; of the apartment you know he keeps in the Silo that he never lets you visit, and try and square that with the Sanemi who pays for his brother’s private education. “Do I want to know how you manage to afford boarding school tuition?”

“He’s on scholarship — wasn’t hard to get, considering our family’s finances. Found the proof easily enough.” Sanemi stares off into the empty space of your apartment with a shrug. “But I also started saving as soon I started makin’ money. The minute I had enough put aside, I sent Genya away. Paid for his uniforms and school stuff. I send him cash every month now so he can do extracurriculars and shit. I want ‘im socializing. The more friends he makes, the more connections he’s got.”

Sanemi’s voice then softens. “The more chance that he’ll stay far away from here, y’know?”

You trace your index finger along one of the jagged, silvery scars that cuts across his chest. “Was this before or after your father died?”

“Tch. After.” Sanemi snorts. “The old man’s death was never reported to the cops, so there ain’t a death certificate for him. I forged his signature on the transfer paperwork.” He thinks before adding, “had someone I know get me the paperwork to become Genya’s legal guardian, once I hit eighteen. Not like it changed all that much. It’s always been me ‘n him, even before our old man bit it.”

A year ago, you hadn’t imagined Sanemi Shinazugawa was capable of anything other than brash self-service. He’d been so good at pretending to care about nothing, acting as if the only thing keeping him tethered to this world was a heart that refused to quit beating.

Time and again, Sanemi has proven that his actions are far louder than even his most obnoxious words. While he shrouds himself in arrogance, it’s a cloak that’s flimsy, at best. Once again, all it takes is a little effort, a little more initiative, to see what lies beneath it.

Under the beast’s mask lies the endless beauty that makes up Sanemi Shinazugawa: all his selflessness, all his fierce love and devotion. So gentle, so pure, and so worthy of the love he won’t let himself believe he deserves.

Emotion prickles behind your eyes. As if anyone on earth could be more worthy than him.

“‘Sides, I like havin’ someone to fuss after. Reminds me that some part of me is still human.” He continues, oblivious to the way your throat works to swallow around the lump lodged in your airways. “Now, I’ve got two people I get to care about.”

His hand holds up yours and he turns it over in his palm, admiring the shape of your fingers; the softness of your skin. He smiles and it’s the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “I’m pretty fuckin’ lucky, if you ask me. All things considered.”

Your silence shakes him out of his indulgent appreciation of your hand. But when his eyes find yours again, it’s his turn to be stunned silent.

You’re doing it again — looking at him as though he is the sun; such adoration feels nearly impossible to accept, especially by someone like him.

And yet, he wants to try; for you, he’d try anything.

For a long moment, the two of you hold each other’s gaze, neither daring to break the bubble that’s formed over your heads. What passes between you has a name, and both of you know it. It’s what slipped off your tongue that first night together, the confession whose weight you could no longer bear.

It remains unspoken, for now, but it’s there. Both of you know it; both of you feel it.

“I think the tea has cooled.” You murmur shyly. But you make no effort to reach for it, so neither does he. Instead, Sanemi leans forward and presses his lips softly against yours.

He can’t get enough of kissing you. This small act of intimacy was one he’d always left confined to the bedroom. Something he only ever did in the heat of the moment, when clothes were being shed, or when his hand was wound in someone’s hair, wrenching their head back to tease their lips with his as he pounded into them from behind.

Not since he was a teenager has he kissed anyone for kissing’s sake.

And he’d certainly never had anyone of his own to kiss whenever he wanted; with whom he could give into his desire for physical affection. But now that he’s tasted your lips, Sanemi finds he cannot get enough.

Minutes pass, or maybe hours. Time doesn’t seem to matter here, wrapped up in each other, kissing and talking and being together. As tired as you are, you can’t fathom falling asleep now.

Chin propped on his upper abdomen, you reach for him. Your fingers brush through his bangs, and Sanemi’s head bows into your touch. His hand smooths up and down your spine, charting your skin.

Your head suddenly lifts up, a playful smile on your pretty lips. “What do I call you now, anyways? You never answered.”

Sanemi’s fingers pause their lazy exploration of your back. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this. Us.”

A dent appears between his brows. “I’m your fuckin’ boyfriend. What else?”

That smirk widens into a full, teasing grin. The mirth in your eyes is beautiful, but Sanemi can’t help but feel like you’re making a joke he’s not in on. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just — you don’t seem like the type to care about labels, that’s all. In fact, I thought you’d be against them.”

Sanemi’s tone turns indignant. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I want a label?”

“I don’t know.” You reply drily. “Maybe I assumed you didn’t want your bad boy image to take a hit.”

“What fuckin’ bad boy image —?”

You settle your head back down against him, your lashes tickling above his abdomen. That faint smile lingers for a second longer, but it disappears when you twist to press a kiss against his skin.

Instantly, Sanemi’s griping quiets and his knuckle ghosts over the curve of your cheek. For a moment, he studies you. He traces over every detail of your face, as though you’re nothing more than a fleeting indulgence. Like he needs to savor you, before someone comes and plucks you away.

“It’s weird, y’know?” His fingers play absently with the damp ends of your hair. “‘M not used to going to sleep with anyone. My bed’s always cold.”

You snort against his chest. “That’s not what the rumors said.”

“I didn’t let them spend the night,” you can hear the faint defensiveness in his tone. “Didn’t even cuddle with ‘em, either.”

“Yes, I heard you were quite the gentleman,” you reply airily. “Gave them just enough time to get dressed before you pushed them out the door.”

He chuffs. “You’re makin’ me sound like some sorta player.”

“Name one person you’ve slept with besides me.”

He taps his finger to the tip of your nose. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” He tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “And besides, there’s only one who matters.”

This time, it’s you who flushes, heat pooling in your cheeks. “You don’t have to seduce me. You’ve already talked your way into bed with me.”

“You’re the one who cornered me, Princess.” Sanemi counters. “In fact, you were pretty damn insistent about it. You haven’t seen all the ways I know how to seduce a woman — not yet, anyway.”

“Oh?” Your hand teases down the length of his torso, your fingers pausing just at the edge of the blanket, where it’s pulled over his lower half. Lightly, you drag your nail over his skin, and Sanemi bites his tongue to keep his hips from twitching under your touch. “Care to share with the class?”

“I might.” And he snatches your hand by the wrist, stilling you before you can sneak below the blanket and start something he knows you can’t finish. “But I think you’d prefer it if I showed you.”

Your giggles are intoxicating as he flips you back under him, his lips peppering your skin with kisses everywhere he can reach.

It’s incredible; he’s never felt so at ease with another. But the weight of his choice soon settles over him once more, and his face turns serious.

“I can’t be here every night,” and there’s something like regret in his eyes as they search yours, and the thumb stroking your cheek feels repentant. “My…job won’t let me be, as much as I might want to.”

His expression darkens. “And I don’t want to risk anyone following me. No —“

“No patterns,” you finish with a small, understanding smile. “I didn’t think that part would change, even if you decided to come back.”

“It’s not fair to you,” Sanemi admits, his mouth thinning into a hard line. “Nothin’ about this is fair to you. I can’t take you out on dates. We can’t move in together. I can’t even see you everyday. I—.”

He cuts himself off with a sign, and the hand that was playing with your hair falls to your back and stills. “I don’t blame you if you decide it’s too much. I told you, you deserve better —“

A press of your finger against his lips stifles his self-loathing. “And I told you, I don’t want anyone else.”

Sanemi’s hand closes around your wrist and he presses your hand more fully to his mouth, but he does not speak.

“I told you how I felt about you, and I meant it.” And then, you add more quietly, “I know what I signed up for.”

He winces at that. “No,” he reaches to stroke your cheek with his knuckle.

“No, you don’t. I know you think you do — and I’m gonna do my damnedest to keep you far away from my shit — but there are risks to bein’ with me, Y/N.”

Risks he never should’ve brought to your door to begin with.

“Like what, to my safety?” The bluntness of your words is softened by the inquisitive tilt of your head. “I don’t know if that’s as bad as you might think.”

“But —“

“Do you think I was somehow safer when I was all alone? Do you think anyone would have noticed if I’d just disappeared one day?”

Your fingers trace circles in the dip between his pecs, toying with the faint smattering of pale hair that lies there. “My siblings don’t call. I haven’t seen my parents in over two years.” You give him a wan smile. “At least now if something happens to me, there’s someone in this damn city who would give a shit.“

The thought makes his gut turn, and yet, the nausea he feels at the prospect of anything happening to you pales against the sorrow he feels that you’ve been left alone for so long.

It made sense, he thought, for someone like him to have no one. Until you, he’d been a staunch observer of the Corp’s creed; he’d sent his little brother as far away as he could, and resigned himself to an existence of self-imposed isolation. He’d known his future – how little of it likely existed – would be too hostile to forge any bonds, the soil of his life too acidic, too toxic for anything real to take root. The idea that he could have anyone to love and to keep had never been his to claim and so, he’d not known to mourn its loss.

But you hadn’t been raised the same way he had. By his own observations, you’d grown up safe and warm and loved in a nice house that sat situated on a row of other nice homes. Ones built with brick and mortar; where you never had to worry about the lights shutting off or whether you would be warm come winter.

And your parents seemed like they’d given a damn. He’d never forgotten the relief on their faces that day, when he’d returned your little sister to them; how they’d clung to her, tears of relief and gratitude shining in their eyes. That was something else Sanemi hadn’t known: the love of a parent. Not apart from his mother, but she’d died not long after Genya was born, leaving her two boys saddled with a man who couldn’t spell the word father, let alone understand the duties of one.

You’d been given everything he hadn’t, and yet, you’d ended up exactly like him: alone.

Worse, Sanemi realizes, he’d secured more than you had in his adulthood. He’d grown a network. His position in the Corps meant he had comrades who would at least know if he turned up dead. Who might even secure justice down the business end of a steel bat or the barrel of a stolen gun.

You didn’t even have that.

You shrug. “I don’t know. I think you knowing and caring I exist makes me a little safer.”

How could he not? You’re the axis upon which his world now turns, the only stabilizing force in his life.

A lump builds thickly in his throat. His arms form a protective cage around you, tightening until you lay your head back down against his chest.

His hand cups the back of your skull. “Alright,” he says hoarsely after a moment. “As long as you’re fine with someone like me, I won’t push it.” His fingers comb gently through your hair.

“Mmm. I’m pretty content with my choices.” You hum sleepily against his skin. Sanemi glances down to see your eyes fighting a losing battle against sleep. “’Specially when you do that.”

A ghost of a smile forms on Sanemi’s lips. “You can go to sleep, y’know.”

You nestle into his chest. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah. I promise. The felonies can wait.” He settles in deeper against your pillows, his fingers still stroking along your scalp. “‘Sides, I wouldn’t leave my girl before kissin’ her goodbye.”

You snuggle happily into his skin, and before long, your breathing slows and you grow still, your fingers curled limply on his chest. He didn’t think it would take you all that long to fall asleep, and here you are, safe and sound and his.

“Sleep, baby,” he murmurs quietly against your hairline, though he knows you can’t hear him. “I ain’t lettin’ you go, now.”

For a long while, he holds you, his fingers continuing to drag up and down your spine. It’s strange to be touched with such affection; such reverence. He hadn’t the words to quite sum up how he’d felt that night, but now, Sanemi realizes just how starved for intimacy he’d been.

He hadn’t let himself do this with the others – quietly lay in bed, letting hands roam for something other than lust as he breathed them in. Relax. This is a side of him for your eyes only; a byproduct of him now being yours.

Besides, why shouldn’t he relax? He’s home. Because home, as he’s come to realize, is not some dingy box in the SIlo or even some place far, far away from the Corps and everyone in it.

Home is a woman he’d known for most of his life, yet not at all, not until the universe forced him back into your orbit. Home is your fingers twitching against his chest, still guided by the compulsion to touch him with the same gentleness he shares with you; the warmth of your body curled around his.

Home is wherever you are.

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, AND LIKES APPRECIATED!

#peach my angel my love i am finally here #i have MUSIC and MULTIPLE SCREENS and i am ready to SCREAM #oh yeah if you hear incoherent screaming its just me ✌🏻#YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN #oof reader being just a tad too relatable rn #i wanna wrap her in a blanket :(#you've nailed the feeling so well #that loneliness that comes with drifting away from your family #on a more positive note WORLDBUILDING #exploring how the city seems to an average person #'whether they'd simply seen writing on a wall you hadn't known to read' i LOVE this line!!!!#'some days you wondered whether you might be a ghost; others you had to convince yourself you weren't #<- a strong contender for my favourite line ever!#i know sanemi is having a crisis and is traumatised but i wanna smack him rn #poor sweet girl #she's a little bit broken too #just in a different way #she misses him so much 😭#'thus you're left alone. again' OW MY HEART #she's much better adjusted about the situation tho #sanemi is seconds away from a breakdown and she's at least trying to be rational #she SET AN ALERT to order the book for him 🥺#i love cocky sanemi #being a shit is one of his love languages clearly #hmmm i seem to remember you saying you listened to casual while writing #I THINK I FOUND THE BIT 😂#yeah bestie nothing you and him did was CASUAL #'where's spiralling going to get you stupid?' ME IT'S ME literally how i talk to myself fr #yeah she is definitely handling this better #she's waiting for him to walk through the bookstore door 🥺

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

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Of Apples and Moss Beds (M) ~Felix [ft. Hyunjin]

Pairing: Werewolf!Felix x Werewolf!AFAB.Reader x Werewolf!Hyunjin Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Angst | Fluff | Strangers to Lovers | Soulmate AU? Word Count: ~15k | AO3 Synopsis: Felix’s crude reality made it so he hardly dwelled on the fact that he was alone. He never would’ve imagined he’d find a loving family of his own, or that he would be capable of imprinting and finding a soulmate, let alone two. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. you don’t need to read the other instalments to understand this piece]. Warnings (SO MANY): Felix’s POV · few descriptives of the reader such as: has big naturals, is older than Felix, is nonbinary/doesn’t care about gender (use of they/she pronouns, even in the same sentence) · mentions of child abuse · LGBTQ+ themes · it takes a WHILE for the reader to make an appearance oops there’s just a lot of backstory and exposition, y’all know i can’t shut the fuck up · pet names (baby, prince, darling, dear, pup, etc, so many pet names, god…) · polyamory · member x member action (suggestive mostly, and explicit with reader included) · nothing about this piece is straight just like any Felix-centric piece should be honestly/j · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: so… i woke up one day and this just… happened. most of it came out of me way too fast, and honestly i’m sure i was either possessed, maniac, or in a very intense moment of hyperfocus. anyway, this piece is a bit different than what i usually do. i really wanted to challenge myself to write a poly relationship into my werewolf au and hyunlix just made sense to me. it was my first time writing such a dynamic–let alone a threesome–with this much detail, so i hope i did okay. regardless, i really like the direction this took, i’m really happy with it, and i hope the amount of member x member stuff doesn’t prevent anyway from enjoying this. as usual, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think💜 [special thanks to my one and only, my soulmate, and best friend for reading this before anyone else and providing her much valued insight]

Smut Warnings: a foot goes on someone’s private parts (MxM) but it’s mild/just teasing and super short and probably mostly harmless to the point where i’m not even sure it counts as a smut warning but i prefer to be safe than sorry · reader is a dom · oral (F&M.Rec) · breast/nipple play (F&M.Rec) · protected penetration [piv] · threesome · degradation (M.Rec. bitch, slut, etc are used) · face slapping (M.Rec) · some praising · snowballing.

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Felix had never been much of a believer when it came to imprinting and soulmates. He was never much of a believer of anything, to be honest. There was no time to fill his head with the improbable when he had to spend all his energy trying to survive.

When he was very young, Felix was kicked out of his childhood pack. To this day, he still believed it had all been completely unfair, leaving a pup werewolf completely alone in the world to deal with all that distress. They claimed it was all for the best, that he was throwing off the ecosystem they had built in the pack, that he was being disrespectful.

What did he do? He simply denied their alpha’s advances. Felix wouldn’t know exactly just how fucked up his childhood pack was until he eventually met other wolves, but even at the time his pack’s alpha’s claims that all betas and omegas were his to ‘use’ –yes, he would use exactly the word ‘use’–just sounded wrong to Felix. The man would always say that anyone that denied him would suffer the consequences.

Felix was a pup, a child, and even if he didn’t know how fucked up it all was at the time, he just didn’t want to do it. So he fought back, he denied every single one of his alpha’s advances as swiftly and discreetly as he could, always worming his way out of it.

Eventually, though, the man found out. He realised Felix was defying his authority, and the moment he realised that, he held his power over Felix’s head. ‘If you won’t submit then you’ll have to leave and become a packless bastard’.

The man was smug when he said it, Felix could still remember it as if it happened yesterday. How he was scared out of his mind, fighting every single instinct telling him to submit, but he stood his ground, uncaring of the consequences of his actions. ‘I won’t submit to you. Not now, not ever’.

So his alpha delivered. Him and his goons kicked him out–not before giving him the beating of his life, of course. But the worst part was that Felix’s parents didn’t do anything to stop it. No one did. This man had ingrained his toxic, abusive dynamic of submission into his pack so heavily no one dared say a word.

So Felix was left alone in the world when he was barely even a teen.

The first few weeks were tough. Oftentimes, he would shift into his wolf form and forage whatever he could to sustain himself; he spent so much time as a wolf that he’d sometimes forget he had a human side to him, too. Those moments wouldn’t last long, only a couple of seconds, but it always left him incredibly shaken when he could feel his humanity slipping between his fingers.

After months of roaming and wandering on his own, Felix started to realise why wolves lived in packs. He thought it was all bullshit before, but being a lone wolf without a pack left one in a weird and fragile state of mind. It left one paranoid, volatile, mad, and although he wasn’t quite sure how the mysticism of it worked, he realised he wasn’t quite right in the head at the time.

And then he met Hyunjin.

Felix truly never believed in imprinting and soulmates, but if such a thing existed, he was sure Hyunjin was his, or at least, that was how it felt at the time.

It happened in the forest. He had just turned fifteen, he’d spent years out there on his own by this point, and as Felix laid next to a stream, devouring the remnants of his hunt, he felt a presence.

Oddly enough, he hadn’t encountered another wolf this close in years, and the sudden appearance of one made him snarl, made his fur puff up, made him want to appear imposing and commanding as if he wasn’t a measly beta teen-wolf with no pack of his own.

The wolf did recoil a bit, but it didn’t leave, it just looked at Felix with a curious glint in its eyes. And after a few moments of no movement, when Felix’s instinct to fight subsided a bit, his mind cleared slightly.

A quick sniff and he knew immediately. Another werewolf, and an omega at that. And maybe it was that last fact that made Felix relax just the smallest bit; if it came to it, he was sure he could take that omega in a fight and win.

The other werewolf approached him, tentatively, slowly, and for some reason, Felix didn’t move. It wasn’t that he felt scared or intimidated by them, he just… Didn’t feel threatened. So he let them come close. Not too close, though.

They sniffed him, and Felix did the same, getting hit by their scent, a strange mix of apples and pears. It was… Nice. But then the werewolf was getting way too close for his comfort, so Felix growled at them, scaring them into running away.

As soon as they were gone, he wished he hadn’t growled at all. He should’ve snarled or attempted to nip, not full on growl the way he did. Regardless, the werewolf was gone, and Felix was left once again on his own.

At least for a while.

Felix remained in that forest, foolishly hoping to see that wolf again. And it was a few days later, as he laid next to the same stream, at the exact same place he had been before, that he heard the rustle of leaves. This time, though, it wasn’t a wolf that came from between the trees, it was a boy. A lanky boy, probably around his age, seemingly normal, if not for the fact that he smelt like apples and pears.

It was honestly almost pathetic how Felix’s tail started to wag as soon as he saw the boy. If the other asked, he’d blame it on how long he had spent all alone out here.

“Hey…” The boy approached him, slowly, with his hands in the air as if to show Felix that he meant no harm, and somehow, Felix believed it. “I’m Hyunjin. I saw you the other day…”

Felix just looked at him for a moment. When was the last time a person had spoken to him out of their own will? He’d spoken with street vendors and kiosk owners and gym attendants, but that was all transactional. This boy, this Hyunjin, was talking to him, directly, and it made him feel oddly giddy.

So Felix shifted back into his human form. How many days had it been since he stood on his legs? Too many, probably. If the aches he felt were anything to go by.

“I’m… Felix”, his voice cracked a bit. It had been doing that a lot these days. His voice seemed to be constantly dancing between a high and a low pitch, and he simply blamed it on puberty.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I was hoping I’d find you here again”, Hyunjin regarded him with a small smile, and he’d lie if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a beat. “Do you… Need any help?”

“I’m fine”, was he? Was he fine? Felix was used to his way of life, but did that mean he was fine? That was something he didn’t want to discuss with a stranger, though, so he settled for fine.

“You don’t look fine”, Hyunjin looked him up and down, and it made Felix scoff in return.

Sitting cross-legged on the grass, bare as he was, Felix stared at Hyunjin, mustering his most confident tone. “Maybe you should get your eyes checked, then”.

It was Hyunjin’s turn to scoff now. Nevertheless, he walked closer. Felix tensed a bit, not used to having people so close to him, but he let Hyunjin sit on the grass in front of him, keeping his fair distance.

“Your scent smells, like, super distressed. You know that, right?”

Felix felt himself flush at his words. No, he didn’t know that. He was super confident he was one hundred percent fine… Wasn’t he?

“Anyway, this might be a bit forward, and weird, but I got worried the other day when I saw you here. I’d never seen a lone wolf, much less one so young… Before I knew it, I was in this forest again looking for you”.

“How’d you know I was a lone wolf?” Felix asked him, slightly incredulous.

Hyunjin shrugged, and he offered Felix a small smile. “You don’t have any trace of anyone else’s scent. Usually there’s a bit there from friends, family…”

Very quickly, Felix realised Hyunjin was… Nice. He had a way of talking that might’ve passed as rude to some people, and sometimes he was rude, especially because of the tone in his voice, but who wasn’t a bit rude these days?

Felix didn’t speak much that day, he simply listened to whatever Hyunjin had to say. He did have a pack, one he wasn’t particularly fond of. ‘Nothing too crazy, they just don’t like people like me’, he’d told Felix. He wasn’t entirely sure what Hyunjin meant by that, and he was too self-conscious that day to ask, so he filed it for later, either for when he found the courage to ask directly or for when Hyunjin had given him enough context clues for him to understand.

Hyunjin liked to draw, to paint, he was the pure embodiment of an artist, and the more he and Felix met in this spot in the forest, the more Felix got to see that side of him.

They met often, at least thrice a week. Hyunjin would always bring Felix food or clothes or puzzles to keep himself entertained. He eventually started to come with his art supplies, sitting in silence with Felix as he drew or painted something that he’d never let Felix see because he was too embarrassed. ‘It’s not good. I’ll show you when they’re good’.

Felix was sure whatever he did was amazing, but he didn’t push his friend. Because that was what Hyunjin had turned into after a couple of months meeting in the forest. A friend. It helped Felix feel like he belonged somewhere again. Even if it was just as a background character in Hyunjin’s life, he could feel his humanity slowly, but surely, coming back to him.

“Ugh, exams are the worst. I just don’t understand chemistry. What even is a mole anyway?” Hyunjin had been rambling about school a lot today, and Felix simply listened to him, lending him his ears to vent into.

“Wait, now that I think about it…” Hyunjin said after a while, looking away from his sketchbook. “What school are you going to?”

“I’m not going to school”, Felix kept his eyes focused on the Rubik’s cube in his hand, trying to figure out how to build one face of the cube without messing up the other.

“What?”

“I haven’t gone to school in years”, Felix shrugged. “I used to shift and sneak into this public school close to the town hall a few years back, so I did learn a bunch, but I couldn’t do it anymore after I started growing and my wolf form just wouldn’t pass as a dog anymore”.

Felix had told Hyunjin of his past, of everything that happened to him in his childhood pack. He could still remember the horrified look on his face as he told him. And honestly, Felix couldn’t blame him for being shocked and horrified by his story. The more he grew up, the more Felix understood the high levels of fucked up that pack’s structure had.

“Why don’t you go as a human?”

Felix scoffed at that, starting to get frustrated with the cube in his hand. “I tried. They require all that legal guardian shit. As you can imagine, my unfortunate lack of parents complicates that a bit”.

Hyunjin went quiet for a while, letting Felix fumble with the puzzle. Eventually, Felix heard the characteristic sound of pencil on paper, so he figured Hyunjin had gone back to sketching, with no intent on continuing the subject. That was, until…

“Want me to ask my parents?”

The Rubik’s cube fell on Felix’s lap.

“…What?”

“My parents”, Hyunjin repeated. “They can pose as your legal guardians. It wouldn’t be the first time a werewolf forges documents”, he added with a snort. Almost every single document a werewolf provided to human authorities was forged these days, so it wasn’t a particularly shocking statement.

However, what did shock Felix was Hyunjin’s proposal… Going back to school. Socialising with humans again after so long… Was he prepared for that? He wanted to learn, to pretend he had a normal life, maybe even… Make more friends? He’d never allowed himself to think about that too much, about going back to participate in the world outside of his little bubble in this forest.

“Would they even agree?” Felix’s voice was barely a whisper. He picked the cube back up from his lap and started to twist the faces again, trying to distract himself. “I don’t want them to… Know”.

Felix didn’t say it, but he was sure Hyunjin would understand. I don’t want them to know I’m a lone wolf. A packless failure.

“I’ll think of something”, Hyunjin mumbled, and if there was someone Felix trusted in this world to charm anyone into doing something, it was Hyunjin.

So that was how Felix managed to integrate into human society again. They both did some research, on public schools he could go to that’d take in someone so far behind, on possible scholarships he could apply to, on places to find school supplies… And as soon as they had all the necessary documentation, it was up to Hyunjin to get his parents to sign them.

It was hard to get used to at first. Felix got overwhelmed by the noise and the amount of people at school often, but he managed. In a couple of months he had gone from being a nobody, a lone wolf secluded to the woods, to being just some guy again, and only then did he realise how good it felt. To be seen, to be taken into account… And it was all thanks to Hyunjin.

During the day, Felix would go to school. In the afternoon, he started to volunteer at a soup kitchen in the area, helping feed those in need. The lovely lady that ran the place seemed to really like him, and she always appreciated the extra hands. ‘You’re so strong! Youth really does wonders for you, doesn’t it?’ She’d say often, and Felix simply chuckled in response, not really wanting to reveal that his strength had nothing to do with youth and all to do with his supernatural condition.

In return for his help she’d feed him, and eventually, Felix asked her to teach him how to cook. He found the act of cooking to come natural to him, he wasn’t sure if it had to do with his enhanced senses, but people would often compliment him on his food, and it made him feel proud. A feeling he hadn’t associated with himself in a long, long time–not to say never ever.

Felix still slept in the forest every night. He’d shift and curl into a fluffy ball of fur to keep himself warm. Hyunjin often offered him his home, or at least, his room, but Felix always declined. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience, and he was sure that Hyunjin’s parents wouldn’t appreciate him being there at all.

Felix only met the couple a few times, but that was more than enough for him to know that, even if he was grateful for their help, he simply didn’t like them. Just like Hyunjin didn’t, either. They were… Conservative. Because that was a thing, conservative werewolves.

‘They can’t accept the fact that I’m a male omega. Sometimes, I’m pretty sure they pretend like I’m not. That I’m a beta or something. And let’s not even talk about the fact that I like boys, too. They don’t know, know, but I’m sure they have noticed… They love to ignore that, too’, Hyunjin confessed to Felix after the first time he met them, after he couldn’t conceal the fact that he just hadn’t felt comfortable with the exchange, and Hyunjin’s words simply confirmed that first impression Felix had had of them.

Males were supposed to be alphas or betas, females were supposed to be betas or omegas, and other genders simply didn’t exist for them. Textbook homophobes, to put it simply. In this day and age…

Felix knew, of course. Hyunjin didn’t hide his sexuality not even once since they met, and Felix was always grateful for that, because it helped him come to terms with his own. People were people, love was love, and no gender or designation would get in the way of that, that was their philosophy. Call it being bi, or pan, or fluid, or however you want. All Felix knew was that once he left the lone wolf in the forest, he was just full of love, ready to share it with the world, with whoever was consensually willing to receive it.

By the time Felix had turned eighteen, the line of his friendship with Hyunjin had blurred so much he wasn’t sure he could call him a friend anymore.

What he had with Hyunjin was much, much more than just friendship. Felix would often find himself holding his hand, or hugging him, or simply touching him, all without really thinking much about it.

Hyunjin did it, too. And although neither said anything, they both knew.

Eventually, their lingering touches started to turn much less platonic, less innocent. They turned into heated makeout sessions, into groping and desperately rutting and grunting against each other, into Hyunjin asking Felix to help him out during his heats as well… It felt natural, just like breathing, to be with one another. They were friends and lovers and soulmates and everything in between, and it was right how it was supposed to be.

Especially because, just like Felix, Hyunjin also believed that love was to be shared, to be enjoyed, so their open arrangement was perfectly designed for them. Felix wasn’t a jealous man, on the contrary, he was happy whenever Hyunjin was, so as long as they kept things clear and consensual and safe nothing else mattered.

At the end of the day, they’d always have each other, and possibly someone else–or simply other people, plural–to share their love with. Although, they’d usually do these things separately, considering Hyunjin’s tastes sometimes were what Felix could simply describe as questionable at best… He had fallen for Felix, after all.

Felix found himself a job in a local café. His very first real job. That was the place that finally gave him a second chance at finding a family, that was where he met Chris.

Chris worked at the café as a partimer, seeking some extra income to pay for his studies while he searched for a job in his field. Felix knew Chris was a werewolf as soon as he saw him, even before he got close enough to get a whiff of his scent.

The man just exuded alpha energy, and the moment he spotted Felix for the first time his eyes went wide with surprise, but he still gave him the widest smile right after, a genuine smile that made his eyes disappear into crescents and dimples to appear on his cheeks. Honestly, Felix wasn’t much of trusting alphas at first glance due to his past trauma, but Chris’ entire demeanour was way too welcoming for him to not trust him almost immediately.

They got acquainted pretty fast, maybe too fast. It was just too easy to fall into Chris’ antics, he was goofy and funny and kind and a bit fucked up in the head, but he was a good guy all in all.

A few months of knowing Chris were enough for Felix to learn he led his own pack. He’d seen a couple of his pack members drop by the café, and they all seemed to be just as nice as Chris, which honestly didn’t surprise him. ‘It’s small, only four of us so far, but it’s great, honestly. Don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now with them’, Chris had told Felix once, and he sounded truly proud of it.

“What about your pack?” Chris asked one day while he cleaned the coffee machine. Closing time was nearing, and there were hardly any customers still within the place, so these were usually the times when they spoke anything related to their lycanthropy. “You never talk about them”.

“That’s because I don’t have one”, Felix replied simply, rearranging the display shelf for what seemed like the tenth time that day.

“You don’t have one?!”

Felix shrugged. “I have Hyunjin”.

“Oh, but that’s something. Well, someone…”

Felix had told Chris about Hyunjin, not in detail, but he knew. It was impossible not to know when his scent was always lingering on Felix’s clothes.

“Yeah, but he’s in a pack of his own”, Hyunjin hadn’t found the courage to defect yet, and Felix honestly couldn’t blame him. He’d been trapped in this vicious circle of guilt with his parents that made it really difficult for him to detach himself from them, even when staying with them only made him hurt and get more frustrated as time passed.

Chris’ brows furrowed, clearly confused. “So… If he’s in a pack, but you have no pack… Where are you staying?”

“Oh, I sleep in the woods”.

“You do what?!” Chris’ question came out a bit louder than he had intended for sure, a couple of customers looked back at him with clear confusion on their faces, and Chris simply offered them a strained smile and an apologetic bow.

“I’ve been sleeping in the forest since I was a pup… I shift, find a decent moss bed, curl up in a nice little ball, and fall off to sleep”, Felix offered with a smile on his face. Over the years, he had honestly started to enjoy it. Of course it wasn’t ideal, of course he would’ve preferred to have a warm bed and a roof over his head, but he’d gotten so used to it, it kind of made him feel like he was balancing his human-ness and his wolf-ness pretty well.

Chris’ face went completely serious, with his hand still holding a rag around the steam wand of the coffee machine, completely motionless. After a few moments of shared silence, he spoke again. “Wanna join my pack?”

Felix choked on his spit, Chris’ proposition catching him completely off-guard. “…What?!”

“Wanna. Join. My. Pack”, Chris repeated, slowly stressing each word.

“I heard you, okay. Jeez… I’m… Not sure I’m suited for the pack life”, Felix looked away from Chris then, focusing on the very interesting and very stale pastry sitting on the display shelf.

Still, he could feel Chris’ searing gaze on his side profile, and when Felix got enough courage to look back at him, he saw Chris looking at him, deep in thought.

Returning his focus to the coffee machine, Chris finally looked away, but he kept talking. “Did I ever tell you why I wanted to lead a pack of my own?”

“No…”

“I wanted to… To build a safe space. For those of us that were tired of being judged or mistreated. There was a lot of that in my childhood pack, Changbin and I were sick of it. Jisung, too–you remember Jisung, right?” Felix just nodded, and Chris continued. “Minho didn’t have a pack, either. But his case was very… Peculiar. He can tell you himself if you do choose to join us. Lix, you… Are nice. And although I don’t know what happened to you, I’m sure it was a lot for you to have been living in the forest since you were so young. So… Think about it”.

And Felix did think about it.

He could barely get sleep that night just thinking about it. About the prospect of having a pack again. Chris had shown him many times that he was just a different breed of alpha altogether, whether he knew it or not, so Felix found himself genuinely considering it. But there was something he needed to do before he made that decision.

“Chris’ pack? He offered that?” Hyunjin’s eyes were wide, and his mouth fell slightly open in surprise.

“Yes. But…” Felix stretched his hand over the table, past his stack of freshly made waffles, finding Hyunjin’s and holding it tightly in his. “I want you to come with me”.

Hyunjin blinked, and suddenly averted his gaze, fixing it on their joined hands. “Lix, angel, you know I can’t…”

“Love, listen to me”, Felix squeezed his hand, trying to get Hyunjin’s attention back to his eyes. “You can. Jinnie, baby, they’re sucking the life out of you in there. You don’t owe them anything”.

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered between Felix’s, looking at his face intently. Until he eventually squeezed his hand and heaved a sigh again. “Do you even know if Chris would take me? He asked you to join, not me. He doesn’t even know me. I don’t know him”.

“I’ll ask”, Felix reassured him, reaching over the table with his free hand to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear–he had been growing it these days, and Felix would lie if he said it didn’t make his heart flutter. “If you tell me you’ll consider it, I’ll ask, baby”.

Hyunjin simply nodded, bringing Felix’s hand to his lips so he could place a kiss on the back of it.

After much consideration, Hyunjin gave Felix the goahead. He wanted to defect, he wanted to detach himself from his parents as much as he could, and most importantly, he wanted to be able to be himself, openly. So, that afternoon, during his shift at work, Felix went to Chris to ask him about it.

“Would you consider taking Hyunjin in, too?” Felix asked him as soon as Chris came in through the door and stood behind the counter.

“Wow, what happened to ‘good afternoon’? What happened to ‘hello’?” Chris chuckled, washing his hands in the sink. “I’ll have to meet him first, though. But, if he’s anything like you, I’m sure it’ll be fine”.

“We… Don’t have much, you know that, right? I mean, I sleep in the woods for a reason. It’s cheap”.

“You mean it’s free?” Chris snorted, but he gave Felix a genuine smile after. “We’ll manage. That’s why we live in packs, don’t we? To help each other out”.

Felix stared at Chris for a few long moments.

All of a sudden he felt a bit… Overwhelmed, to put it simply. He didn’t know what came over him, or why Chris’ words affected him like they did, but, after a few more moments of silence, he took a hold of Chris’ apron, looking down to the floor. “Chris, can I… Can I hug you?”

Felix had barely finished his question when Chris was already pulling him into his arms, cradling the back of his head and patting his back. Something snapped in Felix at that moment, he started to tremble, and he just couldn’t hold in the tears that had started to well in his eyes.

Chris didn’t say anything, he just hugged Felix tightly, and dear heavens if this man’s hugs weren’t the warmest and most comforting hugs Felix had ever felt. He knew it in his heart then, that he had made the right decision. That this was how having a Pack Alpha was supposed to feel like. Comfort, protection, warmth. Not whatever the fuck was happening in his childhood pack, not whatever the fuck was happening in Hyunjin’s pack, either.

The first night at Chris’ den was… Interesting. At the time, Chris was rooming with Changbin, and they had decided for Felix to spend the first nights here with them, or at least until Chris met Hyunjin and let him join the pack.

“I’ll take the sofa”, Chris told Felix as soon as they entered his flat.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll take it”, Changbin shouted from the kitchen, where he had been cooking dinner before Chris and Felix came in.

“No way. I’m not letting either of you take the sofa”, Felix intercepted immediately. “I’ve been sleeping on the ground for years, don’t worry about me, seriously. A sofa is a luxury at this point”.

Felix was used to saying these things out loud without thinking much about them, so he decided to ignore the apologetic look on Changbin’s face when he said that.

That night, while laying on the sofa, Felix did nothing but toss and turn.

The sofa was great. Plush, comfortable, but he felt incredibly awkward. After one too many turns he finally decided to shift into his wolf form, curling in on himself on the sofa, and then he truly felt comfortable. It wasn’t that much different from a moss bed; the biggest upside was the fact that it was dry and warm here, so truly, for Felix, this was like a five star hotel at this point.

He’d no longer have to store his few belongings in gym lockers, or use gym showers, he’d no longer have to be aware of every single sound around him in case a hunter decided to come around the corner, or in case it started to rain, or in case one of the wild cats living in the area wanted to start a fight. As he drifted off to sleep, Felix truly, truly felt incredibly lucky.

Even the next day, when Felix woke up to the sight of Changbin’s smiling, swollen face, looking fondly at him still curled up on the sofa, he felt at ease, his wagging tail more than proof of that.

Now, getting Hyunjin to meet Chris, and for Chris and the other pack members to accept him was easy. Felix had no doubts in his mind that Chris and the others would like Hyunjin enough to let him join the pack as well. What was difficult was getting Hyunjin to defect.

He started gradually taking things out of his house. Important stuff, sentimental stuff, documents, anything of value. Hyunjin passed them all to Felix for Felix to keep them safe at the den. The idea was for every material thing he wanted to keep to be taken out before he spoke with his parents–if he spoke with his parents at all.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure yet… If he wanted to just disappear or if he wanted to confront them. He was sure they wouldn’t just let him leave, they’d try to convince him to stay with their impeccable emotional manipulation tactics, so he was leaning more towards the idea of leaving quietly.

All his plans went to shit when they saw him taking out the last bag of his belongings. Or at least, that was what he told Felix when he arrived a crying mess at the den.

The sight of Hyunjin crying his eyes out, the distress in his scent, it pulled at Felix’s heartstrings unpleasantly. He hated seeing him like this, he wished he could make it all better, make him smile again that charming smile of his. As soon as he saw him, Felix pulled Hyunjin into his arms, and Hyunjin started crying harder against his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as the door to Chris’ flat closed behind him.

“What happened?!” Jisung asked as soon as he noticed Hyunjin’s state.

Hyunjin mumbled unintelligible nonsense against Felix’s shoulder, and Felix couldn’t help but bring a hand to his hair, trying to soothe him. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Take your time…”

By the time Hyunjin had stopped crying the three of them sat on Chris’ sofa. Hyunjin gulped down the glass of water in his hand, and proceeded to blow his nose on a napkin Jisung had brought him.

“You told them that? Seriously?” Jisung softly caressed Hyunjin’s back, looking almost incredulous. “ ‘Your son is a fruity omega, deal with it’ has got to be the best coming out phrase of all time, honestly. You’re so badass”.

Hyunjin chuckled, blowing his nose again. “I was so angry when I said it. They were so angry when I said it. They started calling me names, saying I was an ungrateful bastard… And I just… Told them to fuck right off and left before they could even try to guilt trip me into staying”.

Felix brought a hand to Hyunjin’s chin, tilting his face towards him, offering him a smile. “You did it, baby. You’re free. We’re free”.

A small smile made its way onto Hyunjin’s lips as he looked back at Felix, his eyes were still a bit bleary and red, but they looked so, so full of hope, Felix couldn’t help but lean in and press a brief peck on his lips.

Jisung whined next to them, and when Felix turned to look at him he had a pout on his lips. “No kiss for me?”

“My God, Jisung. Not everything is about you”, Hyunjin sighed, sounding more like his usual self. He turned anyway, gripping Jisung by the cheeks with one hand and giving him a quick peck. An entirely platonic exchange, not uncommon between omegas, to be honest. “There. Happy?”

“Very!” Jisung was beaming, and it made Felix chuckle. “Welcome home”, he added, with a splitting smile on his face, pulling both Hyunjin and Felix into a hug.

Everything was smooth sailing from there. As smooth sailing as living in a pack of several traumatised werewolves can be.

Throughout the years, Felix managed to finish his basic studies, he was no longer illiterate in the eyes of the human government, and he had found himself with a career goal. He wanted to be a chef. Preferably a pastry chef. Cooking was still, to this day, one of his biggest escapes. At first it was only regular food, then he started trying more complicated dishes, and eventually he found out how challenging baking could be.

His packmates were often the test subjects for every meal he cooked, especially Hyunjin, of course, who was there with him every step of the way, always supportive, always ready to give Felix an honest review of whichever concoction he had put together.

More people joined Chris’ pack, Seungmin, Jeongin… And eventually, by the time Felix was well into his twenties, came the girls. Or at least, some girls.

Chris’ current girlfriend came first, a human who took the place of Pack Mum before Chris even got the balls to confess his feelings for her… Then came Changbin’s girlfriend, an omega who also defected from her abusive pack and seeked comfort in the only other werewolf she knew. And of course, Minho’s best friend and now girlfriend, who had been coming to the den since Minho joined the pack. Felix liked to call her their honorary pack member, since she really didn’t live here, but she came and stayed over so often she was already like one of their own.

Felix honestly would’ve never imagined his family would get so big. Because that was what this pack had become to him, the family he never truly had. He knew that he wanted to share his love, and here, with these people, he was able to share it more than ever–at least, his platonic love.

When it came to romance, it always went back to Hyunjin. Felix had dated a handful of people throughout the years. Humans, mostly–not to say exclusively. But things usually fell through when they simply couldn’t understand his relationship with Hyunjin. They always pretended they were okay with being in an open relationship, the reality was, they simply weren’t. So Felix often found himself breaking things off with people.

Hyunjin was a bit more lucky, he had a couple of serious relationships that actually lasted a fair amount of time. But ultimately, things would also fall through. Not because of his relationship with Felix, but simply because people change, their needs change, their wants change… And Hyunjin was one hundred percent sure of what he wanted, so as soon as any hesitancy came from the other party, ties were cut off.

Felix truly, truly never ever believed in imprinting and soulmates, but if such a thing existed, he was sure he now had two.

It simply happened one day, while going on a morning run with Hyunjin.

Every other weekend, very early in the morning, Felix and Hyunjin would go to the forest, to the same one Felix used to live in, to where they met for the first time. Felix found comfort in the place, the den was his home, but these woods were the place in which he was reborn, so he enjoyed coming here to connect with that part of himself every once in a while.

Hyunjin came just to spend some time with him, Felix knew it. He wasn’t overly fond of waking up early in the morning, but he never once complained. He understood how much it meant to Felix.

And in that place, was where they met you, too.

As Felix and Hyunjin drank from the clear stream, their ears perked up at the sudden rustle of leaves behind them. Slowly, another wolf came from between the trees, curiously eyeing them both.

Felix felt almost exactly the same way he did when he met Hyunjin for the first time, minus the excessive amounts of trauma he was dealing with back then.

They didn’t make any attempts to run or showed any hostility, since the wolf wasn’t showing any hostility, either. Very quickly they were enveloped by the scent of a werewolf, an alpha, just as the wolf came close to sniff them.

The wolf looked… Intrigued, more than anything. Their dark fur flowed with the gentle breeze passing by, and if Felix thought they were beautiful as a wolf, he wondered how they would look like as a human.

Hyunjin seemed to be in the same state Felix was, entranced, but before they knew it, the wolf took off into the woods again, gone out of their sight.

“So, uhm… I didn’t imagine that, right?” Hyunjin said a while later, as soon as he shifted back into his human form and tugged his jeans up his legs. “Who was that?”

“Dunno. You certainly didn’t imagine it”, Felix slid his plaid shirt on, slowly doing each button. “It felt kinda like…”

“Like when we met”, Hyunjin finished, slipping his shoes on. “Without the ‘growling at me and scaring me to death’ part”.

Felix chuckled, finishing with his clothes.“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Never, sweetheart”, Hyunjin winked at him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “You’ll have to be making up for it for the rest of your life!”

“You’re so dramatic sometimes…”

That night, though, Felix could only think about the encounter. He wondered how he could find that wolf again, Hyunjin had told him earlier to simply let things flow, just like he did when he met Felix for the first time. If it was meant to be, you’d meet again.

And you did meet again, although not exactly in the way Felix had hoped for.

Felix loved his job, he loved baking, and decorating cakes, and working at this bakery specifically. It was fun, especially on days like these, with orders like these. A basic marbled cake, frosted with white and green buttercream, with the words ‘congrats on the sex’ written on it.

He wasn’t usually the one giving the customers their orders, but they were a bit understaffed today, so he brought it out as soon as he was called for it. Thankfully, it was quite slow at this time, so there was only one person waiting by the counter.

Felix called for the customer in the receipt anyway, and that same person perked up, looking at him. As soon as your eyes landed on his, he felt immediate familiarity, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“So, your cake’s ready. Please check and make sure it’s all to your liking”, Felix fell into his customer service persona anyway, it was hard not to, he practically spoke in autopilot at this point whenever he was behind the counter.

“Looks good”, you mumbled once you took a brief look at the cake. “How much do I owe you?”

“Well, says here you paid half upfront, so here’s the remaining amount”, Felix signalled to the register, and you started to take cash out of your bag.

What an odd interaction. He felt like there was something on the tip of his tongue the entire time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.

“Here you go”, you handed him the money, and Felix pressed buttons on the register, getting it to open and giving you the necessary change once he had deposited the bills inside.

You took the box and turned around to leave. Felix’s brows furrowed, confused, but he didn’t say anything.

However, you turned back around, so fast Felix almost jumped on the spot when you placed the cake back down on the counter. “Were you in the forest the other day?”

Felix was completely caught off guard, but he recognised you then. The alpha from the forest. “That was you?” He lowered his voice, making sure the other lingering customers didn’t eavesdrop the conversation.

“Yes! I’ve been… Uh… This is gonna sound super weird, I’m sorry, but I’ve been looking for you, although I’m not really sure why exactly”, your brows furrowed, and Felix almost wanted to reach over the counter and smooth it out with his thumb.

“Me, too. Well, us, too”, a couple of customers came into the store, and Felix offered them friendly smiles and a quick greeting before turning his eyes back to you. Taking a napkin from the holder on the counter and a pen, he scribbled his phone number quickly, signing it with his name.

“Text me… If you want”, he added once he handed you the paper.

You looked at the napkin in your hand, then carefully folded it and placed it in your back pocket, giving him a “sure thing, Felix” with a smile on your face as you took your cake. “Have a nice day!”

Work couldn’t go any slower after that encounter…

“A female alpha?” Hyunjin asked as soon as Felix started telling him the story, when Felix had finally made it home and slid inside the bathtub to join him.

“So it seems. Well, they didn’t really tell me their gender or anything, but they were certainly female presenting… A lot of… Cleavage and stuff”, Felix had been too confused earlier to focus too much on it, but now that his mind was a bit clearer, he was remembering… Things.

“What are the odds… An alpha for a beta and an omega”, Hyunjin leaned back on his end of the tub, extending one of his legs a bit, and immediately, Felix felt the pressure of the ball of Hyunjin’s foot on his length.

Quirking a brow, he looked at Hyunjin with a smirk on his lips.

“Are you trying to rile me up, my sweet prince? Trying to distract me with your low tactics?” Felix chuckled from where he was leaning on his end of the tub, taking a hold of Hyunjin’s heel and pulling him further against him.

“Question is, when am I not, my love?” Hyunjin gave him a smug smile, and it was just as he was about to say something again that Felix’s phone rumbled from where he had left it on the toilet lid. He looked at Hyunjin, and Hyunjin looked right back at him. Before Felix could say anything, Hyunjin was already stretching his arm, taking the phone, and looking at the notification.

“It’s them”, Hyunjin urged, handing Felix the phone to read the message.

> Unknown Number: hey > it’s me, from the bakery > the ‘congrats on the sex’ cake? > anyway > would you like to go for coffee sometime?

“They could’ve just said ‘the alpha from the forest’, to be honest”, Hyunjin chuckled, still amused by the cake story.

“What should I tell them?” Felix was suddenly nervous. Why was he nervous? He’d done this before. Hell, he wasn’t even the one asking the other out… Was this even a date?

“Say yes! Give them a date and a time”, Hyunjin urged, nudging him with his foot.

“Are you coming, though?”

“I think you should meet them first”, Hyunjin replied confidently. “I’m intrigued, but you already met them, and you know we usually don’t… Like the same type of people. I really think you should meet them first. See if they are nice, and if they are and you want something with them, see if they’re comfortable with… You know. Us”.

So Felix replied then, a short ‘brunch tomorrow. 11am?’ to which you gave him a positive answer and the name of a café he had been to before, so he knew where to go. All details which he gave Hyunjin immediately.

“That’s great, baby!” He nudged Felix with his foot again, making the other smile. “Now, come here. I want you to absolutely destroy me”.

Felix couldn’t help but chuckle. “Needy, are we?” But he moved anyway, leaning forward to kiss Hyunjin properly.

The next day, while Felix anxiously bounced his leg as he sat at one of the tables in the café, he felt oddly nervous. He reasoned it was because you were a werewolf. Felix had truly only dated humans before, the only werewolf he’d ever been with was Hyunjin–he did shoot his shot at Changbin once when he started to live at the den, but to this day he was sure Changbin hadn’t even registered it, so he let it go.

“Hey”, you regarded Felix with a smile as soon as you saw him, taking a seat in front of him. God, Felix hadn’t realised yet, but you smelt like the forest. Like pine and the moss beds he used to sleep on, and it almost knocked the air right out of his lungs.

“So”, Felix started once you both had procured your respective coffees and sandwiches. “The woods, huh? Never seen you around before”.

“You go there often? Never seen you around, either”, you replied between bites of your food, and Felix gave you a nod in responde, not wanting to discuss why he went to the woods in the first place. “I go there often, too. My sisters like to hangout around the place. I was looking for one of them when I saw you guys”.

“You got sisters? Never seen any other werewolf there that wasn’t Hyunjin, now you…”

“Hyunjin? That’s the other wolf you were with?” Felix just nodded again, and you continued. “Well, my sisters aren’t werewolves, that’s why. I’m, uh… My pack is not exactly… Conventional”.

“Oh?” Felix couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “I’m intrigued”.

You gave him a sheepish smile, taking a sip of your coffee right after. “Werecats, werejackals, werebats… It’s a very odd pack, we’re all a bit different. I’m the only werewolf in it, actually”.

Felix’s jaw went slack, completely in shock. “…Come again?”

“Uh, well, there are two werecats, one werejackal, two werebats, and we might be integrating a vampire soon, actually. Not the same thing as a werebat, by the way”.

Felix just blinked, and you gave him an almost shy smile. “Damn, it’s like you’re collecting otherworldlies”, Felix chuckled, dragging his fingers through his hair and leaning back on his chair.

“Yeah, well… We got fed up and decided to stick together”, you offered simply.

“All girls?”

“Nah. Some of us, like me, don’t care about gender at all. Some girls, some boys, some non-conforming… You know…” You eyed him intently, almost as if you were trying to test his stance on the matter, and it had him chuckling.

“Oh, I know”, he replied, with a genuine smile on his face.

You seemed satisfied with his answer, and that, for some reason, made him feel giddy.

That was when you truly started to open up. You were just a bit older than him, you worked at your late parents’ antique and oddities shop, it had been left in your care once they passed away, and your den was located right above it. ‘Got the entire building for ourselves! I’m honestly glad my parents were careful enough to leave me everything they had to their name. I don’t know where I’d be if they hadn’t…’

You were very moralistic, and blunt, and honestly? Really hot. Felix was listening intently to everything you were telling him, he really was. But he could also multitask, so admiring your attributes while he listened was going incredibly well for him.

“What about you, though?” You asked eventually, taking a sip of your now cold coffee.

Felix shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m a baker, as you probably inferred. I have a mostly werewolf pack, but we’ve got a few humans as well”.

“Your alpha allows humans in their den?” You asked, a bit incredulous, and Felix really laughed out loud at the thought of Chris not allowing humans at his den, all things considered.

“He does. Actually, my pack’s alpha is head over heels for his human girlfriend. Any moment now they’re gonna mate and or get married, I’m sure”.

“And you? Hyunjin?” Ah, there it was. It was time to speak about That.

“Hyunjin’s my mate”, Felix replied honestly, confidently looking you in the eyes. “And just to clarify, I don’t mean a mate as a friend. He’s my mate mate. We’ve been mates for years. But… We’re in an open relationship”.

“Oh?” You leaned back in your seat, and the curious glint in your eyes gave him some hope. “Never heard of polyamorous mates before. Does it really work for you guys?”

“It does. We’re both just… Two guys who love each other, and want to share our love with other people, too”, and they were. They truly, truly were, and Felix believed this one hundred percent. “It’s all about trust and consent and all that, you know?”

“Oh, I know…” Your fingers tapped the table.

You looked at Felix for a moment, the air was suddenly heavy between you two, thick with something intense, alluring, and Felix could feel the hairs at his nape stand on end when you leaned on the table, resting your elbows on it. “So… If I take you home right now, and fuck your brains out, your mate won’t mind?”

Blunt. Forward. Very much an alpha, you were.

“My mate was the one who urged me to text you back last night”, a smirk made its way onto his lips, and he leaned forward on the table as well, matching your stance. “What about you, though? You’re an alpha. Wouldn’t it bother you? To know I’m also someone else’s? To share?”

“I’m not a possessive alpha. Not like that at least”, you licked your lips, and Felix’s eyes followed the movement like a hawk. “Like you said… It’s all about consent, and trust, and all that”.

“Exactly…”

You stared at him, and Felix stared right back. In your eyes, all dark and clouded with need, he could see it all. In your scent, he could smell it all. Arousal, lust, want… It was honestly almost comical how fast the both of you stood up from your chairs. The bills had been paid for already, so you simply slung your bag over your shoulder and took Felix’s hand, tugging him out of the café.

“My place is close by”, you told him simply, and he followed you without hesitation.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to show me where you live on a first date?” Felix teased you as soon as you both made it to your building’s entrance–it was more a door than an entrance, but he figured the term still worked.

“I don’t know why, but my instincts tell me I can trust you, Lee Felix”, you said as you started to climb the stairs, and Felix followed right behind you, not even pretending like he wasn’t staring at your ass the entire time. “But anyway, what would you do to me? I could probably snap you in half”, you grinned at him as soon as you made it to your door, hastily getting your keys from your bag and unlocking it.

“You wouldn’t dare! Who’d take care of my Hyunjin if I’m gone?” Felix bit back, stepping into your home.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you pushed Felix against it, pressing your whole body against his own, and that look in your eyes truly reminded him that you were an alpha, that you were very much capable of snapping him in half, and that he’d gladly let you fuck him silly at any time of day.

“Well, if he wants, I can take care of him no problem. I honestly haven’t been able to stop thinking about his apple and pear scent”, you caged him against that door, with your hands at either side of him. “But then again, I also haven’t been able to stop thinking about yours”.

Before Felix could even attempt to respond, your lips were on his. Warm, slightly chapped from the cold air outside, but still moist with your saliva, and his entire body came alight. You tasted like coffee and bread and like the sweetest nectar he’d ever drunk.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as your tongue made its way inside his mouth, devouring him, and he simply took it, pushing his tongue against yours and holding your waist tightly. Felix wasn’t sure if it was the influence of your alpha scent, if it was the fact that you were a werewolf, or the fact that you’d met in the forest, right where he had met Hyunjin, his forever mate, making his brain jump to conclusions, but truly, Felix had only ever felt this ravenous with him before this moment.

“Are you clean of anything?” You asked as soon as your lips disconnected, starting a trail of kisses all the way from his mouth to his neck, licking and sucking on his pulse point, making him whine.

“Yes”, Felix replied simply, slightly breathless, because it was the truth. He got checked regularly, as did Hyunjin.

“Good. Me too”, with that, you dropped to your knees, swiftly undoing his belt, popping open the button of his jeans and opening his zipper. God, he was so hard already, how had he gotten this worked up just by a few minutes of kissing?

It was really hard for him to care at all as you mouthed his length over his underwear. “Let me know if you want to stop at some point, okay? You say stop and I’ll stop. Promise”.

Felix nodded, his eyes fixed on yours as you palmed him. You squeezed him over the fabric, and he was starting to lose it, truly. “Say it, Felix. Say you understand”.

“I–I understand”, saliva had pooled in his mouth, so he swallowed, getting lost in your sinful stare. Felix was usually the one taking the lead, but right now, there was nothing he wanted more than to let you do with him as you pleased, and by that look in your eyes, he was almost certain that was what you wanted, too.

“That’s it. What a good boy”, you smiled at him, a genuine smile that made your eyes disappear, a complete contrast to the way you pulled his underwear down, letting his cock spring free from its confinements.

As soon as you took his length into your warm, wet mouth, he just couldn’t help himself, the moan that left his lips was almost pathetic to his ears, but he didn’t care. Felix let his head fall against the door, lost in the feeling of your warmth around him, on the obscene slurping sounds filling his ears, on the smell of the forest surrounding him completely, making him tremble where he stood.

When was the last time he had had sex with a stranger? But then again, somehow, you didn’t feel like a total stranger, you felt familiar, almost as if he had known you for a long, long time.

“So fucking good with your mouth–Fuck!” The feeling of your throat around him was too much, you were working him up way too quickly, he had to focus really hard to hold it all in. Maybe it was the mix of your entire being–your scent, your values, your tits that looked absolutely amazing in that low top–or maybe it was the new experience that had him so heated, but he’d usually be able to go longer than this, he had stamina goddamn it.

You pulled away from his cock with a lewd pop, replacing your mouth with your hand, pumping him fervently. Sweet, sweet torture… “It’s okay, puppy. You can come. I’m not done with you, though. You can come and then I’ll work you up all over again, hm?”

Felix nodded, frantic, his eyes jumping from your hand working his cock to your face, to your eyes staring right into him. As soon as you took him back into your mouth he was gone. “Shit, fuck… You’re seriously… I’m gonna come, fuck…”

You bobbed your head once, twice, thrice, and then his mind went blank. An assortment of swears and grunts and moans flew past his lips as he shot his load down your throat, and you kept blowing him through all of it, even when he stopped coming, bringing him to the brink of oversensitivity.

“Shit, wait, too much…” He whined, writhing against the door. For a moment, he thought you wouldn’t stop, he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t.

But thankfully–or regretfully, he couldn’t decide…–you took pity on him, finally letting him fall from your mouth and staring up at him with a satisfied smile on your face as you looked at him taking deep breaths. When you stood on your feet and kissed him again, Felix really started to feel lightheaded, drunk on your scent, on his own taste on your tongue.

“You okay?” You asked, and it seemed like you genuinely cared, which honestly made his heart flutter.

“More than okay, holy shit”, Felix replied between kisses, making you chuckle. You instructed him to take his t-shirt, his shoes, his jeans and underwear off, and he did it without hesitation.

“Come here, pup”, you tugged him away from the door, walking a few strides and pushing him to sit on the sofa, straddling him as soon as he was seated.

His hands came to rest on the curve of your ass, and before his hazy mind could register the movement, you had already tugged your shirt and your bra away from your body. His mouth watered at the sight of your breasts falling into their natural place, and right there, sitting on top of him, you truly, truly looked like a goddess.

“Felix”, your hand came to his nape, caressing his skin softly. “You seem to be very focused on my chest. Just like you were yesterday”, shit, he had been caught, but honestly, he couldn’t find it in him to care at all.

“How could I not? Shit, look at these”, he moved his hands to cup your tits, squeezing them gently. You allowed him to do it for a few moments, but then you took a hold of his hands, placing them on your ribs, right below your breasts.

“Wanna suck on them, pup?” You kept his hands pressed to your skin, and he immediately nodded, sucking you eagerly when you pulled his face to your breasts.

He didn’t know how long he spent with his mouth attached to your chest while you rolled your hips to get some friction from his already hardening length. All he knew was that when you came from the attention he was giving to your tits, from the grind of your still clothed core against him, the sound of your moans and your soft praises had him almost coming again.

That afternoon, after you took him from that sofa to your room, after you slid a condom on his cock and rode him until he couldn’t take it anymore, Felix left your flat all levels of fucked out of his mind, with a promise of another date, and an almost bashful ‘you think Hyunjin would like to meet me?’

As soon as he was back home, he made his way to his bedroom, finding Hyunjin propped on the headboard of the bed with a sketchbook and a pencil in his hands.

Felix plopped on the bed, sighing contently, and Hyunjin immediately chuckled in response.

“Jinnie, baby. You have to meet her, seriously”, Felix turned to his side and propped himself on his elbow, looking at Hyunjin.

“You think I’d like them?” His mate asked with a chuckle, barely even looking up from the piece he was working on.

“I’m sure you will, shit…”

Hyunjin agreed to meet you, so Felix gave him your contact, and in a couple of days, you two went on a date.

Felix wasn’t sure why he felt so incredibly excited at the prospect of you and Hyunjin going on a date. Maybe it was the fact that they both hardly ever found a common partner, and he was sure he’d enjoy his relationships much more if Hyunjin could be involved.

So he laid on his sofa that day, playing games on his phone and waiting for Hyunjin to come back home.

It was getting dark by the time Felix heard the tell-tale signs of a key going into the keyhole. Hyunjin stepped into the flat with languid steps, dropping his bag on the floor right by the entrance and making his way to the sofa. Felix fixed his gaze on him, looking at his every move. His hair was tousled, his shirt wrinkly and barely even tucked into his jeans, and Felix could’ve sworn he was limping a bit.

Finally, Hyunjin plopped on the other end of the sofa, slouching and staring at the ceiling, and Felix slung his legs over Hyunjin’s lap. He was silent for a while, but Felix didn’t push him, he simply kept quiet and waited for Hyunjin to gather his thoughts.

“Holy shit”, were the first words coming out of Hyunjin’s mouth, just as he brought a hand to softly caress Felix’s calf.

“How’d it go?” Felix couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to know.

Hyunjin gestured in front of his chest, with his eyebrows high on his face. “Tits. Shit…”

Felix snorted at the comment, amused by the daze his partner was in. “I know, right?”

“That wasn’t normal, Lix”, Hyunjin finally looked at him, with an indecipherable glint of something in his eyes. “I’ve been with alphas before, but whatever that was went completely beyond that”.

“It kinda felt like…” Felix started, unsure if he should say it.

But Hyunjin clearly decided to say it instead. “Like when we’re together”.

“It’s crazy, though. We barely know them”, Felix was trying to find a logical explanation, anything factual, and not based on folklore.

Hyunjin snorted. “Darling, we’re dogs. What does it matter? Shouldn’t we follow our instincts? How many people can say they’re as lucky as us? I can’t believe we finally found a common match”, he carded his fingers through his hair, slumping further in his seat.

“So, that means that you’d like to… Include her? Like… The three of us being a thing?”

“After what I experienced today? Hell fucking yes”, Hyunjin chuckled. “As long as they want to. It’s all a bit… New”.

“Mm, it is”, Felix finally sat down on the sofa, sitting close to Hyunjin and dropping his head on his shoulder. The mix of his and your scent on his clothes had his heart doing somersaults in his chest.

Dating you was… Interesting. At first, you’d go on dates separately, either you and Hyunjin, or you and Felix, the three of you just getting used to one another. Until one day, finally, the three of you went out together.

Felix found it incredibly exhilarating, walking around with an arm around Hyunjin’s waist while holding your hand. It all felt just so… Natural. Easy. Just like it had been when Felix and Hyunjin started to get really close, when they figured out what they meant to each other.

It was all just so much fun, and he was having the time of his life.

Eventually, you needed to meet Chris. If Hyunjin and Felix wanted you to come over, they needed to make sure that their pack’s alpha approved of your presence at the den, and, honestly, Felix respected Chris way too much to not follow this rule, especially because it was one of the very few ones they had at all.

Chris was a bit guarded when you came to his flat to meet him for the first time. He was super stiff, and a bit more stoic than usual. Felix was sure it wasn’t the fact that you were an alpha per se, but the fact that you were an alpha that just wouldn’t stop shamelessly checking his girlfriend out, and it was probably triggering his instincts.

Felix had told you of their relationship before, but maybe he should’ve been a bit more explicit on how looking at her Like That could possibly bring your chances of coming and staying here to absolute zero.

Hyunjin had noticed, too. And he had been trying his best to distract you enough so you would stop. It wasn’t until Chris’ girlfriend excused herself for a moment, when Chris left the room and followed her, that both Felix and Hyunjin lunged at you.

“Darling, please. I’m begging… Stop checking her out. Chris is very possessive of our dear mother”, Felix urged, speaking as low as he could.

“Oh my God. Was it obvious?” You sounded genuinely distressed about it, and it made Hyunjin facepalm himself.

“Of course it was fucking obvious! You’re not exactly the epitome of discreet, love”, Hyunjin whispered-shouted.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to… I honestly have zero intentions with her. She’s just… Hot. Looks so…” You made squishing motions with your hands. You really didn’t need to say it, their pack’s mother was certainly very soft and squishable, Felix often found himself going for hugs or cuddling, so he understood, but his relationship with her was entirely familial, completely different to what you were doing right now, and it would never trigger Chris’ nature–unless the man was close to his rut, but those were technicalities…

“I’m just… Admiring, you know? Can you blame me?”

“No”, Hyunjin sighed, dragging his hand over his face. “But please stop looking at her like that. If there’s anyone off limits at this den, it’s her”.

You pouted, looking slightly annoyed, but you nodded regardless, finally taking a deep breath. “I know you guys are right… I’ll do my best not to start any fights over pretty girls here. No promises, though…”

When Chris and his girlfriend came back, your staring had finally stopped. Regardless, when they returned, Chris held onto his girl like the most obnoxious koala, and as usual, she didn’t seem phased at all by this.

You gave Chris a bit of context on your life. Your den, your pack, but most importantly, you told him the values and foundations of your pack, which were very similar to Chris’ own. That, added to the fact that you stopped looking at his girl, had seemed to soften his entire demeanour.

“They can stay”, Chris told Hyunjin and Felix that same evening after you left. “They seem nice and I like what she’s doing with their pack”.

Felix heaved a sigh, feeling immensely relieved. At least, until Chris spoke again.

“But, respectfully, tell her to fucking stop looking at my girlfriend like that. At least when I’m around. It fucks up with my head, and it’s incredibly unpleasant, okay?”

Chris didn’t sound particularly angry, mostly just annoyed. Felix knew you wouldn’t make any real advances towards his girlfriend, just like Chris probably knew you wouldn’t, either. Not to say how they all knew his girl just wouldn’t even acknowledge any potential advance. Hell, Felix doubted she even noticed you were looking at her like that at all, she only ever seemed to register Chris in that regard.

But at the end of the day, just like Hyunjin often said, they were dogs, and they often had to fight their animalistic instincts with an insane amount of human self control, which could honestly get quite tiring.

With the approval of their alpha, you started to regularly come to their den–more specifically, to Hyunjin and Felix’s flat, of course. You wouldn’t spend the night that much, though, which was completely understandable. After all, you had a den of your own to attend to.

Some nights, Felix wished he could be snuggled between you and Hyunjin, he wondered how that would be like quite often.

When he told Hyunjin about this, he simply chuckled and said ‘we’d need to get a bigger bed, then. You and I can barely fit on ours’, which honestly sounded like an amazing idea to Felix, but Hyunjin shattered his fantasy when he added, ‘how would you be snuggled between us if you love to sleep at the foot of the bed, though?’ which was also an excellent point on his part…

Regardless, you came over often, to meet Hyunjin if he was there, to meet Felix if he was there, or to meet them both if they were both there. It didn’t really matter, you just dropped by and spent time with either or both and left your scent everywhere and Felix honestly loved it more than he could’ve ever imagined. There was hardly anything that made him as happy as the mix of your scent and Hyunjin’s all over him, it made him feel giddy, and warm, and loved.

“That’s it, Lixie, baby… You’re doing so well…”

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Kneeling on the sofa, with one hand on your hip, the other fondling one of your breasts, and his chest firmly pressed to your back, Felix buried his face in the crook of your neck, moaning against your skin as you kept pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. He felt just so drunk on your scent, on the feel of your ass hitting his pelvis, and the tight grip of your walls around his cock.

“You smell so… Good, fuck…” Sweat collected at his temples, he rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you moan, the sound turning to a blissed chuckle.

“You do, too, pup. Fresh… Like petrichor”, you told him simply, pushing your hips back harder, faster.

How many times had this sofa seen you two fuck in the past handful of months? Felix wasn’t sure, but he was sure it hadn’t been enough, he needed more of it. He loved doing it here, right in the living room. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the fact that your scent would linger in the fabric after you left and he’d get to smell it for days after when laid down.

Suddenly, you stopped moving, and Felix instinctively stopped moving as well as the sound of his front door opening reached his ears.

Okay, maybe it could also be the fact that Felix knew Hyunjin loved coming back home to the sight of his partners having sex that made him enjoy fucking on this sofa so much.

“You guys are fucking without me?” Hyunjin dropped his belongings at the entrance, pouting, quickly making his way to the sofa.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss on his lips once Hyunjin kneeled in front of you, wrapping his arms around you and Felix, sandwiching you between them. “You were taking too long to come home, Jinnie”.

“Too long, sweetheart”, Felix let go of your breast to grip the collar of Hyunjin’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss, too.

Hyunjin sighed, burying his face in the crook of your neck, while Felix did the same on the other side. “Got caught up at work…”

“You work too hard, honey”, you told him, wrapping one of your arms around his waist, pulling him further into you, striking a normal, almost domestic conversation as if your walls didn’t have a vice grip on Felix’s length.

“Did you at least manage to fix that part of the mural you didn’t like?” Felix asked, caressing Hyunjin’s hair, continuing the conversation as if he wasn’t rock hard inside of you.

“I did…” Hyunjin pressed his nose to your pulse point, inhaling deeply, audibly, and it made you chuckle.

“Wanna join us? Or are you gonna stay there and watch?” Felix could feel his cock twitch when you asked that, and honestly, either option sounded exactly like absolute heaven to him.

“Have to clean up, I’m covered in paint”, Hyunjin finally detached himself from your neck, looking between you and Felix with a sad pout on his lips. “You guys go on, I’ll join you after a shower”.

With a quick kiss to both of you, Hyunjin hurriedly retreated to the bathroom.

Felix attached his lips to your shoulder, peppering your skin with kisses as you took a hold of both of his hands and brought them to your chest. “Wanna keep going, Lix? Or do you need a break?”

He squeezed your breasts, trapping your nipples between his fingers, and the way you clenched around him with the motion had him salivating, truly making him feel like a dog. Like a really horny dog. “Let’s keep going. Or I’ll die”.

Reaching behind to take a hold of his hair, you turned your head, finding Felix’s lips for a heated kiss. As soon as your hips started to push back against him again, he groaned, the sound getting lost in your mouth while you held him tightly in place, ravishing his mouth.

Tugging his head back a bit, your lips attached to his jaw, the lack of your mouth on his own let his blissed grunts and groans and moans spill freely out of his mouth. He quickened his pace, and you immediately matched the rhythm. Between your scent and the sounds you were making and the slapping of skin and the delicious feel of you wrapped around him Felix started to feel lightheaded, he’d been so close to coming so many times throughout the entire evening he was sure he’d explode at any moment.

“Darling… I’m so, so close”, Felix couldn’t help but groan as soon as you started to move even faster, holding his hair tighter.

“Come whenever you want, sunshine”, when you kissed him again, when you started to rub circles on your clit and clenching so, so tightly around him, Felix knew he was done for, he wouldn’t last much longer.

Holding your hips and burying his face in the crook of your neck to get close to your pulse point, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, chasing that sweet, sweet relief, and as soon as he took in a deep breath and your scent engulfed him fully, his mind clouded.

“Fuck, fuck, Lixie, baby…” A growl resonated from deep within your chest as soon as you got your release, it made him shiver, and coupled with the feeling of your walls clenching repeatedly around his length was enough to send him over the edge.

Felix came with a deep, low growl, shooting his load into the latex. A low rumble started to resonate within him as he kept coming, and it remained even after your cunt had milked the very last drop.

“Aww, you’re rumbling. What a cute little pup you are”, you chuckled, slightly breathless.

Felix felt himself flush. Taking a hold of the condom at the base to secure it in place, he carefully pulled out of you, tying a knot and dropping the soiled latex on the floor to pick it up later. He plopped on the sofa, panting a bit, still rumbling, and he couldn’t help but scoff.

“And what about it?”

“Nothing”, you laid on top of him, kissing his cheeks, making him flush further. “You’re just really cute”.

“‘Course I am…” Felix mumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you close.

You just chuckled, pressing a loud, brief kiss on his lips.

After a quick moment of hydration, and as soon as Hyunjin was out of the bathroom, you and Felix pulled him into the bedroom, pushing him to the bed, not even giving him a chance to dry himself properly. You kissed Hyunjin fervently, just as Felix sucked love bites on his neck, eliciting a whimper from his mouth.

“Darling…” Hyunjin mumbled against your lips, trying to get your attention. “Want to… Would you let me…” With Felix’s languid strokes on his cock, Hyunjin could barely speak, and it had Felix growing impossibly harder against the curve of Hyunjin’s ass.

“What do you want, puppy?” You brought a hand to his chest, toying with one of his nipples, making him whine.

Hyunjin swallowed thickly, pushing his hips back against Felix’s length. “You… Want to taste you, please”.

“You want a taste?” You quirked a brow, pinching his nipple harder, making him swear and rut his hips harder against Felix. “What do you think, Lixie? Should I give our dear omega what he wants?”

Felix chuckled softly, licking the shell of Hyunjin’s ear, quickening the pace of his hand around Hyunjin’s length, reducing him to a whiny mess.

“He asked nicely, baby. Our Jinnie has had a hard day today, haven’t you, love?” Felix asked, and Hyunjin simply nodded in response, burying his face in the crook of your neck to get as much of your scent on him as he could. “I think he deserves a treat. Don’t you?”

“Are you turning soft on me now, Lixie?” You chuckled, but you pulled yourself away from Hyunjin anyway. He whined in protest, and you hushed him gently. “But I agree. Today our prince gets what he wants”.

Hyunjin hardly ever didn’t get what he wanted. Just that sometimes, what he wanted wasn’t for you and Felix to pamper him. Most times, he wanted to be ruined, to be played and toyed with however you and Felix pleased, to do whatever you wanted to him. Today didn’t seem like one of those days, so Felix didn’t see any reason to not give him what he asked for, just like you didn’t seem to, either.

Sitting against the headboard, you sat with your legs open, and Hyunjin immediately scrambled to get close to your core. The moment his tongue made contact with your skin, he groaned, and you bit your lip, looking at his every move. Felix just placed his hand on the back of Hyunjin’s head, softly caressing the strands as he enjoyed the sight of his tongue licking you, of his plump lips sucking on you.

“Baby…” You made grabby hands towards Felix, and he could feel his heart swell in his chest just by the way you looked at him, with need, and want, and maybe even love. “Kiss”.

Felix wasted no time, planting his lips on yours, relishing your moans against his lips, relishing the feeling of Hyunjin’s head bobbing and moving between your legs as he held him in place. Your tongue pushed its way inside Felix’s mouth, right as your hand wrapped around his length, and the sudden contact had him moaning immediately.

Your other hand joined Felix’s on Hyunjin’s head, further pushing him against you. Very quickly, the room filled with the sounds of your moans, of Felix’s moans, of Hyunjin’s moans… Groans, grunts, whimpers, and whines mingled with one another, to the point where it was hard to know from whom the sounds were coming out from. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Hyunjin between your legs and your hand around Felix’s cock… All that mattered was the mix of your scents in this room on this bed and the amount of lust and love pouring out of all the three of you and bouncing off the walls.

Lately, there was nothing Felix enjoyed more than getting lost on his lovers bodies, than the feeling of you and him and Hyunjin just sharing your warmth, your pleasure, and as he felt you tense under Hyunjin’s quickening tongue, as he felt your grip on his cock tighten the further his mate worked you up, he knew there was nowhere else he wanted to be than right here, in this moment.

Felix detached his mouth from your lips, attaching himself instead to your neck, licking at your pulse point for a moment–just enough to get a concentrated taste of you, quick enough to not trigger your alpha instincts. The contact of his tongue on your neck was gone almost as soon as it started, and he finally moved away from your neck to attach his lips to your cheeks, groaning and moaning against your skin.

“You wanna make me come, Hyunjinnie?” You asked, and Hyunjin nodded, sucking your clit into his mouth, making you throw your head back against the headboard.

“Make our alpha come, Jinnie”, Felix pleaded, pushing Hyunjin further into you. “Use that filthy mouth of yours just like you know how to, and later, you can get my cock, too”.

Hyunjin moaned, the sound strained and muffled as he got lost in your heat.

“Our sweet prince just wants to have his mouth full, doesn’t he?” You pressed a kiss on Felix’s lips, and he felt you shiver and tense further. “Always eager…”

The closer you got to your high, the more your scent seemed to intensify, and Felix was almost drunk on the smell of fresh fruits and the forest. He rocked his hips, fucking your fist just as his tongue kept dancing against yours.

The sounds of your wet kiss, the sounds of Hyunjin slurping you up, the squelching sounds of your fist around his length had Felix’s head spinning, and when your release washed over you, the feeling of you trembling and the smell of your arousal in the air almost, almost made him come, too.

With a tight grip on Hyunjin’s hair, you got him off of you, tugging him up for a kiss, a kiss Felix couldn’t help but join, moaning at the taste of you on Hyunjin’s tongue.

“Satisfied? Happy you got what you wanted?” You asked as soon as Hyunjin separated his lips from yours, sounding incredibly confident for someone who was still panting for air.

Hyunjin nodded, whimpering when you tugged on his hair again. “Good. Now be a good boy and lay down for us, hm?”

Hyunjin scrambled, laying on his back and watching as you took a condom from the box that had been hastily thrown on the bed earlier. As soon as you slid the latex on his length and you made sure it was securely in place, you straddled him, sinking yourself on his cock in one swift movement, eliciting a shared groan of relief.

You didn’t move, you just sat on him, watching as Felix got close to Hyunjin’s head, kneeling with his length in his hand. Hyunjin looked up at him, with his eyes all glossy and with flushed cheeks, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Truly a sight to behold.

“Please, Lixie…” Hyunjin begged, and you chuckled from your place on his lap, making him flush further.

“So desperate, baby. As if you didn’t just have your mouth busy… How needy…”

“If there’s one thing our Jinnie is, is needy. Aren’t you, love?” Felix chuckled, caressing Hyunjin’s cheek briefly, only to finally move closer to him, slapping his length against his cheek, making Hyunjin flush further. “A textbook slut, aren’t you?”

Hyunjin swallowed, nodding. The sound of a hand hitting skin resonated in the room, the slap Felix gave Hyunjin made his mate moan as soon as his palm made contact with the skin, and Felix gripped his chin tightly with one hand right after. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Hyunjin whimpered, writhing a bit under Felix’s hold, and it made him feel tingly all over, tingly with lust and love and need. “Your slut!”

“Good boy”, you chuckled, pinching one of his nipples, making him squirm.

“Indeed. Our good little slut”, Felix let go of Hyunjin’s chin, caressing his cheek after.

“Please… Move, please”, it wasn’t very clear to whom Hyunjin was talking to, to you who had been sitting on his length for a while now, completely unmoving, or to Felix who had his cock so close to his mouth, but not letting it touch his lips at all. Most likely, it was directed to the both of you, but Felix decided to move first anyway.

“Open up, then, my dearest prince”, Felix couldn’t help but groan as soon as Hyunjin’s lips wrapped around him, sucking him eagerly, moaning around his length as he bobbed his head.

“That’s it, sweetheart… You always look the prettiest, the most handsome, with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, you know?” Pushing the tip of his length against Hyunjin’s cheek, Felix slapped the bulging skin a bit, relishing the way Hyunjin closed his eyes and moaned in bliss.

You chuckled from your place on Hyunjin’s lap, placing your hands on his chest for leverage and finally starting to bounce on his cock, making him whine and whimper as Felix kept thrusting into his mouth. “Look at you, Jinnie, dear. So pretty. Moaning for us like the prettiest bitch in heat”.

“Moaning like our perfect slut, you mean”, Felix chuckled, the sound breaking into a moan of his own as Hyunjin started to move as well, meeting Felix’s thrusts, letting his cock ease into his throat.

“That, too”, your pace was ruthless, the sound of his gagging and your skin hitting Hyunjin’s had Felix salivating, and he wasn’t sure where to focus. On his forever mate choking on his cock, or on your tits bouncing with every single one of your movements, or where Hyunjin’s length kept disappearing within your heat…

Hyunjin’s moans were getting increasingly more desperate, Felix could feel his orgasm grow incredibly close, and as soon as he locked eyes with you while he kept thrusting into Hyunjin’s mouth, he knew he wouldn’t last.

“Come here, Lixie. Let’s give our precious little omega what he wants”, you urged, quickening your pace.

“Fuck!” Hyunjin started to swear as soon as Felix’s length fell from his mouth, his blissed out noises now spilling freely from his swollen lips without the foreign body fucking his mouth.

Felix moved closer to you, just as you got off Hyunjin’s length and pulled the condom off of him, dropping it somewhere behind you to collect later. With his hand around his cock, Felix leaned into you, kissing you sloppily as he jerked himself, as you pumped Hyunjin with a tight fist.

Hyunjin was moaning a lot, Felix was grunting a lot, you were borderline growling, and it was all so much, so intense, Felix could feel his entire body tensing, and he was ready to burst at any second now.

The second you bit Felix’s lip, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Muttering a quick warning to no one in particular, and with a few more strokes, he finally came, spilling all over Hyunjin’s abdomen, his climax clouding his senses completely as all the tension finally left his body. He opened his eyes just enough to look at your hand around Hyunjin’s length, and if he hadn’t been lightheaded before he would’ve certainly been now at the sight.

“C’mon, Jinnie. Wanna come for us? For your precious mate and your dearest alpha?” Hyunjin frantically nodded in response to your question, gripping the bed sheets tightly in his fists, moaning and swearing and making all assortments of unintelligible noises under your ruthless grip.

With one final, drawn out moan, Hyunjin came, some of his seed dripped all over your fingers, while the rest landed on his torso, soiling him and mixing with Felix’s cum. As soon as the last drop was out of his mate, Felix dived, licking the mixture of their releases into his mouth. With his tongue thoroughly coated in their juices, he kissed Hyunjin, pushing his tongue into his mouth.

Hyunjin whimpered, pushing his tongue against Felix’s briefly, until finally you came close, and Felix simply moved his head enough so you could join in. And truly, Felix had never felt any more fulfilled than he did in this very moment, sharing that kiss with his two favourite people in this world, in that mess of tongues and lips and fluids.

With a satisfied sigh he dropped on the bed, laying next to Hyunjin just as you left the room, picking up the used condom from the floor on your way out. When you returned with a soaked washcloth in your hand, you cleaned up the mess that had been left on Hyunjin’s abdomen, murmuring soft words of encouragement as you did so. Felix simply took the cloth from you after to wipe the remnants of his release from his length just as you laid next to Hyunjin, pulling him to your chest, and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

As soon as Felix turned on his side, pressing his chest to Hyunjin’s back, Hyunjin started to rumble, letting out a content sight at your soft caresses on his hair and at Felix’s tender kisses on his shoulder.

“You should stay”, Hyunjin mumbled against your chest after a while, making you chuckle.

“I can’t tonight, pup. I’ve got to prepare this whole thing at the den… They’ll be waiting for me”, you answered simply, and when you looked at Felix he gave you his best puppy eyes, adding a sad pout for good measure.

You gave him a smile in response, pinching one of his cheeks. “I really can’t, Lix. Don’t make this any harder for me”.

“We just… Miss you when you’re gone”, Felix pressed his body further against Hyunjin, just as you did the same, effectively sandwiching him further between you two.

“We do”, Hyunjin reaffirmed, practically suffocating between your breasts, probably exactly where he wanted to be.

You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind Felix’s ear. “I miss you guys, too. But you know I just… Can’t leave my packmates. They’re my family. And I know you guys won’t leave Chris, so… This’ll have to do for now. We’ll figure something out eventually”.

Felix just hummed, closing his eyes for a bit to enjoy the warmth of your palm on his cheek, to enjoy the rumble of Hyunjin against his chest, to ignore the need to find that solution right now. There was no point in dwelling on it when it truly was a bit of a complicated situation, and his post-coital state certainly didn’t make it any easier to make logical decisions.

The three of you laid there for a while, just sharing some body heat, some light conversation, until you moved to the bathroom to clean up, until you eventually had to call it a night and leave.

As Felix laid in bed with Hyunjin that night, curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed just how he loved to do, he realised that, he had truly never believed in soulmates, but if such a thing existed, he was one hundred percent certain having one would feel just like it felt when he was with you and Hyunjin.

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#thank you sm bb🥺#i'm having a lot of fun expanding on this family of wolves honestly #it's been cathartic and to know people are enjoying my long-ass fics about them too makes me super happy #also hyunlix entire backstory is one of my favourites so far tbh i had a blast with it (even though i was crying half the time)#sungshinemuse #f.oaamb #🌙💜~feedback

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