#the power cuts are longer today as they probably will be the next few days and it kinda makes me want to claw at the walls of my room | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magicshopaholic · 6 months ago

Text

Words Unsaid (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jungkook has something he wants to ask you, but the timing just never seems to sit right.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7.3 K

Warnings: none

A/N: This took longer than expected to post (but a surprisingly short amount of time to write). Savour it, for the angst will be back in full force next fic :D Takes place a couple of weeks after Unfinished Business and can be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

The sun is near setting when lunch comes to a natural end. Namjoon places his credit card on the bill out of habit and, somewhat conscious that it’s not just the two of them here, Jungkook drops his on top of it.

“All good, kid.” Namjoon good-naturedly flicks Jungkook’s credit card off the bill just before the waiter picks it up.

Feeling Lia’s eyes on him, vaguely amused, Jungkook feels his ears heat up and quickly pockets his credit card. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” he asks, desperate to change the topic.

“Not much.” He shrugs. “Probably pick up some stuff at this store we saw earlier today, then maybe a walk down the Han if it gets cooler…” He turns slightly as Kaya returns to her seat, fluffing out her hair a bit.

“Seoul has never been this warm, has it?” she remarks. “I’m glad I cut my hair before I came here.”

“It should rain soon,” answers Lia, in her accented English. While her grasp on the language hadn’t necessarily been a surprise to Jungkook, the way it sounded - and how much he liked it - definitely was. She hadn’t ever spoken much English around him, for there was never much of a need, but when Kaya visited and they’d finally met, Jungkook discovered he was obsessed with her English accent. It made her sound older, unattainable and - ironically – more Korean.

“Maybe it will,” says Namjoon, nodding and looking out the glass windows at the sunlight.

“Maybe it will while you’re walking down the Han river,” points out Jungkook.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, that reminds me - can we make a detour home before we head to the market?” Kaya asks him. “I need to pick up my power bank. My phone’s almost dead.”

Namjoon nods. “Sure. You guys need a ride?” he asks Jungkook and Lia.

“Oh -” They exchange a look, for they were dropped by a company car after Jungkook finished filming a promo. “Actually, yeah,” says Lia, nodding. “We also need to stop by, uh, Jungkook’s house for a minute. You’ll want to change, I guess?”

Jungkook nods mutely, his neck getting hot again. He avoids Namjoon’s eyes; the older member’s subtle questioning a couple of days ago, about how serious is this getting, had been one thing. That, coupled with the abrupt way he and Lia had stopped talking when Jungkook had returned from the men’s room earlier during lunch, made him uneasily conscious that something was still unsaid.

They head out of the restaurant, waiting until Namjoon’s car is brought out by the valet before ducking inside quickly, Kaya in the driver’s seat and Namjoon in the passenger seat next to her. Jungkook notices a few phones out in the open and pointed towards them as they drive away.

“See you tomorrow!” Lia waves at them as they drive away from the porch of Jungkook’s building in Hannam-dong, where his new penthouse sits tucked into the top floor. As the car disappears around a corner, both of them turn around and head inside together.

In the lift, Jungkook watches the numbers increase, his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The words are there, somewhere, in moments at the tip of his tongue and in others, so far away that they may as well be someone else’s.

“Hey.”

He’s jerked out of his reverie. “Yeah.”

Lia is looking at him, frowning slightly. “Everything okay? You’ve barely said two words since we left.”

“I’m fine,” he answers as the lift stops and they step out, the doors opening right in front of his apartment. “I just, uh…” He pats his pockets and pauses. “... forgot my keys. I think. Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she mutters easily, reaching into her small sling bag for her own keyring and selecting the shiniest one. “This is when it helps to have a spare set with someone else,” she points out.

Jungkook nods sheepishly and steps aside so she can unlock the door to his home. “Actually, Lia…” He takes a deep breath as Namjoon’s face swims to the forefront of his mind, the familiar raised eyebrow and chin tilted upward that, irritatingly knowing but unwilling to give him the answer. No, he would want Jungkook to come up with the answer himself.

He clears his throat as Lia pauses. “Yeah?”

“Um, I was wondering -” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Just say it. Say it. He makes the mistake of glancing at her again, her raised eyebrows and - to his slight anxiety - hopeful expression.

Shit.

“Would you, um… do you think you would you like to…”

Come on now, Jungkook, Namjoon would say sternly. Say it already.

“... try a beef bulgogi tonight? I know we usually do pizza on Sunday nights but I saw this recipe online and I really wanted to try it. Plus, we won’t even have to shop - we have that fillet in the freezer so part of the work is really already done, if you think about it…”

He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s only to try and distract himself from the annoyance at himself as well as the brief but clear disappointment in her expression. Her shoulders fall slightly and she bites her lip, turning back to the door and pushing it open halfway.

“Beef bulgogi sounds great,” she says finally, looking up at him after a moment’s hesitation, and giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He follows her inside, still deflated. Lia goes straight to the fridge for a bottle of cold water while he heads into his room, shedding his t-shirt on the way. Turning on the bathroom light, he grabs his facewash from the wall-mounted shelf, half-stocked with haircare products, face scrubs, masks, serums and a tub of scrunchies and claw clips. A Dior perfume he’d gifted her earlier this year was also there next to his own Calvin Klein cologne.

Realising he’s been staring at her belongings for over a minute with emulsified facewash on his face, he quickly scrubs it off and hurries out, passing by her chest of drawers next to the closets.

Jungkook wishes he wasn’t such a coward. He wishes he had the exact right words and that his mouth moved on its own to deliver the message to her. She’d helped him set up the apartment when he’d moved in last month; most of her belongings are here, she returns here more often than not after work, half the groceries in the pantry are stocked by her. She has a set of keys, she uses his extra parking space - but none of it matters as long as it’s still Jungkook’s house.

In the kitchen, Lia is standing by the counter with a bowl of watermelon in front of her, scrolling on her phone. She looks up when he enters.

“I cut the other half that was in the fridge,” she informs him. “Rest of it is inside.”

He swallows. “Thanks.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he would do without her. The house feels far too big and empty when she isn’t around and he wishes there were some way for her to get that message without him having to spell it out.

But if you do spell it out, comes Namjoon’s voice again, what’s the worst that could happen.

She could say no and then I could die, he thinks, shuddering.

He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans over to examine the pink fruit. Lia raises an eyebrow and pops a piece into his mouth.

“Wow. Sweet,” he comments, voice slightly muffled.

She half-chuckles and nods, going back to her phone and taking a piece as well.

Say it. But is this really the moment? Does there need to be a moment? What would that moment even look like? What would she want that moment to -

“Kook,” says Lia, slowly placing her phone down. “I was thinking… I’ve been coming over here after work the last few days. And I’ll probably be here tomorrow as well, so…” She bites her lip.

“Yes,” whispers Jungkook breathlessly. If Lia were to ask the question - nothing like it. No chance of rejection, no scope for awkwardness. Of course, if any of the guys got wind of the fact that she had been the one to ask, they wouldn’t let him live it down, especially Jimin. Suddenly, he half-hopes she isn’t asking.

“Do you think it would be weird if, you know…”

Holy shit. Screw Jimin and his opinions. Despite a crappy first date a year ago, if this is really how far they’ve come since then, he should consider himself the luckiest man in the world. Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s heart begins to race.

“… if I went home on Monday evening? It’s been a while and I have an important meeting on Tuesday and all my blazers are at home so in a way, I have to…”

Jungkook nods mutely, barely hearing her, for his heart is hammering so loudly he can hear it in his teeth. It occurs to him that Lia might have been anticipating the same question and subsequently felt the same disappointment, and it only serves to make him feel worse.

“… take my car, too. Jungkook?”

He looks up warily, irrationally worried his shame might be written on his forehead for her to see, possibly triggering her to pull the plug on this entire thing, this whole relationship, to save herself the embarrassment of dating a silly pop star who can’t string six words together -

“Hm?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” he chokes. “Thanks for the, uh, the fruit.”

Lia raises her eyebrows, but there’s a flash of knowing in her eyes. Not wanting to decipher it, for there’s no telling where his mind will take him, he shakes his head slightly and leans forward, kissing her on the cheek.

It doesn’t end there. Later that evening, Jungkook is still reeling from his horrendous inability to pluck up the courage to ask his girlfriend a simple question. The general mood between them seems to have gone back to normal, somewhat, but it nags at the corner of his mind.

They are heading to the executive floor gym in his building, accessible only to the handful of residents on the top floor, when another opportunity seemingly presents itself.

It’s a glorious workout in one of the best gyms in the country; in fact, Jungkook is rather upfront about it being one of the main reasons he chose to buy a property in this particular building in Hannam-dong. Towards the end of a particularly difficult set of reps on the bench press station, Jungkook looks up to see a face, upside down and hovering above him.

“Shit!” he gasps, gripping the barbell tightly so it doesn’t fall on him.

Eunwoo grins. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

“I could’ve died,” points out Jungkook, sitting up and giving him a friendly dap. “No, Lia wanted to work out, too, and it’s been a, uh… somewhat stressful day.”

“Yeah?” Eunwoo, also sweating and glowing, looks around the gym with his hands on his hips. “Lia is here? Oh, there she is…” He nods at the treadmills where she’s jogging fast, AirPods in and the rest of the world shut out.

They chat for a bit about nothing in particular, catching their breath. Somewhere during the conversation, while they’re at the water station and filling up tiny glasses with fruit-infused ice water, Jungkook wonders if the time has truly come to pick another’s brain. Eunwoo is a good friend and they’ve known each other a while, but it would be the first time he’s actively confided in someone else about his love life. From his experience, it could go either way.

While he’s pondering this, Eunwoo nods and flashes a smile at something over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys.” Lia walks over and pours herself a glass. Her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed lusciously. The ends of her high ponytail stick to her damp collarbones and Jungkook bites his lip without thinking, ridiculously attracted to her at the moment.

“Noona, do you agree with JK’s plan of building a home gym?” Eunwoo asks, seamlessly continuing their discussion. “It’s going to be so much maintenance of equipment,” he tells him, shaking his head.

“Really?” Lia turns to Jungkook, frowning. “When did that happen? I thought you were happy with this gym.”

“I am - and I’m not planning on building a home gym,” he clarifies, suddenly anxious with both sets of eyes on him. “I was just discussing the merits of possibly having one.”

“Such as?”

“Well… privacy, for one. I know the building has good security but they're also fairly lax with allowances,” he points out, not wanting to specify the incident last week that had prompted this train of thought, when he was half-certain he’d spotted someone pointing their phone at him and Lia.

“Allowances? You mean guests?” Eunwoo wrinkles his nose. “They don’t allow guests in here.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t. They don’t allow anybody but residents in the gym.”

There’s a brief but painful pause following his words.

“They do, actually,” says Lia.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes, they do,” adds Jungkook tightly, glaring at Eunwoo and moving his eyes deliberately in Lia’s direction, hoping to God he’ll drop it.

Eunwoo frowns slowly, apparently working this out. “What?” he mutters, shaking his head at Jungkook. “No, I’m just saying… wait, how are you so sure?”

“Because I’m technically a guest,” says Lia lightly.

“You are?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrows. “But I thought you were - oh.” To Jungkook’s horror, a blush creeps up his friend’s face. Lia goes still next to him and it takes every ounce of Jungkook’s strength to not turn in her direction.

For the next few seconds or so, the three of them stand there in silence, scarcely making a movement.

“Excuse me? May I?”

“Yes! Of course, of course -” Jungkook immediately blurts out while Eunwoo practically trips over himself to take a step back and make way for another patron.

“I’m going to stretch and cool down for a bit,” says Lia, touching Jungkook’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”

“Oh, I still have a bit to finish,” he answers, a bit apologetically. “I was going to box for a bit before ending with cardio.”

“That’s fine, I'll just head back h- uh, to your place and shower… if that’s okay?”

Not least because she hasn’t needed to ask such a question in months, Jungkook nods wordlessly. She gives him a small smile and moves away, and Jungkook watches her leave before turning back around to see Eunwoo giving him a look.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

Eunwoo chuckles as they head over to the boxing bag. “Man, I am so sorry about that. I really thought you’d asked her to move in with you - I thought part of the reason you bought a new house was because you wanted her to move in. You were asking about bathrooms with his-and-her sinks, man. What happened?”

“Okay, first of all, I only asked if you’ve ever seen one in real life - not that I wanted one,” he corrects immediately, strapping on his gloves while Eunwoo gets behind the bag, ready to hold it.

“And the other thing?”

“I’m working on it,” mutters Jungkook, going into stance and holding his hands up. “I just want to do it right. Make sure it’s a good time, that I’m not hurrying anything - that kind of thing.”

Eunwoo hums and nods. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t seem freaked out. If anything, she looked a little annoyed.”

Jungkook freezes. “She did? She looked annoyed - wait, really? Are you serious?”

His eyes widen. “Wh- no. Not - not annoyed like that. Not like a pissed off annoyed, more like a… like a chill annoyed.” When Jungkook says nothing, he shakes his head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Maybe it is too soon. Or maybe it isn’t,” he amends quickly. “What do I know? You know my last three relationships lasted, like, four months each - so I’m probably not the best person to be giving you any kind of advice.”

“That’s the most airtight thing you’ve said so far,” mutters Jungkook. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Waiting a moment for Eunwoo to grip the bag, he cocks his elbow back and punches it.

—

Despite his deadly faux pas, Eunwoo had inadvertently provided Jungkook with a rather helpful bit of direction. Perhaps it is time for him to lean on a friend for advice, but Eunwoo was also right that he is not one of them, not with his flighty flings and lack of depth in them. The advice matters and so does the friend, prompting Jungkook to ask himself: which of his friends is the expert on the opposite of short-term flings?

“Namjoon hyung!”

Namjoon stops in his tracks at the sound of his name and turns, waiting for Jungkook to catch up with him.

“Oh, thanks,” says Jungkook, taking a cigarette from the pack Namjoon offers him and leaning forward so he can light it. “Thanks for getting us the evening off, by the way.”

“Kaya is leaving this weekend,” is all Namjoon says in response, shrugging.

“Right.” Jungkook nods, taking a drag and blowing it out, wondering briefly if he should care that they might be seen smoking right outside the Hybe building. “Won’t this make you a couple minutes late, though? If you want to make the best of the next few days?”

Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t want to smoke inside the house.”

“Uh-huh. Speaking of which…” He exhales, suddenly nervous. “I was hoping for some advice.” He clears his throat. “Regarding… relationships.”

Namjoons raises his eyebrows but says nothing else. “M-hm.”

“I have reason to believe,” he begins slowly, “that Lia might want me to ask her to move in with me.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook pauses, searching his leader’s face for a hint. Finding none, he continues. “Well… I want to ask her. But I also don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she wants me to ask her. And I also don’t want to mess it up.”

“How would you mess it up?”

“I don’t know… maybe I’m completely off track and she doesn’t want to move in with me at all? Maybe she thinks it’s too soon?”

Namjoon nods, hearing him out. Then he shakes his head. “Well, personally, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“What isn’t? You think she wants to move in?” Jungkook’s momentarily relief is interrupted by a horrifying thought. “Oh, my God - did she say something to you? Yesterday, at brunch, when I went to the men’s room?”

“Jungkook, you were gone for two minutes.”

He’s about to argue but stops himself. He knows Lia and she is hardly the type to secretly vent her feelings to his friends behind his back, hoping it will get back to him. No, she’s more straightforward than that.

Somewhat satisfied, he takes a different turn. “Okay, let’s get down to it, then. How did you ask Kaya to move in?”

“Well…” Namjoon frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.”

“You… what?” Jungkook squints. “Wait, so… you didn’t ask? You both just knew, telepathically, when to start living together?” he asks incredulously, thinking privately that it could just be believable.

“No,” says Namjoon patiently, chuckling again and flicking some ash off his cigarette. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t have to. Where else is she supposed to live when she comes to Seoul? Where am I supposed to live when I go to see her?”

“Yeah… okay, but… well, would you say you live together?” he presses. “Or do you just, like, crash at each other’s place when you visit?”

“Well, we definitely don’t crash at each other’s place,” he mutters. “Maybe we did right in the beginning? I guess I’d say we live apart, but it’s only because we have to. I don’t know - when she came to Seoul for work last year while I was in service, she stayed at Hannam even though her aunt lives in the city, too.” He shrugs. “If that helps.”

“Huh.” Jungkook considers this. “So, like, do you guys ‘go home’ or do you go back to ‘your place’?”

“Home,” he answers casually, not skipping a beat. “Even her apartment is home. ‘Home’ is what you make it, to a large extent. It’s a place of comfort - an apartment is only part of that,” he says wisely. “I feel more at home in her studio apartment in London with her than at Hannam by myself. The people make the home - and that’s for you to decide.”

Jungkook stares, feeling his cigarette burn away in his hand. “That’s really not the kind of thing I’m looking for, hyung,” he states, before dropping his face in his hand.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and stubs his cigarette on the tray atop the trash can next to him. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go about it logically: she’s been your girlfriend for six or seven months now, you bought a new place which is significantly bigger than your old one and she’s in her thirties, meaning she’s most likely thinking long-term.”

Jungkook gazes at Namjoon’s raised eyebrows, quite certain he’s meant to pick up some meaning out of this. “So…”

“So… if you’re worried she might say no…”

“Chances are… she probably won’t?”

Namjoon grins and nods. “Exactly. Just be yourself, be genuine, be honest - and remember you’re both together for a reason. And I think - I think - she has a thing for you, too,” he adds seriously.

“One can only hope,” he mutters, albeit slightly mollified. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”

Namjoon observes him - for too long. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something that makes Jungkook’s stomach jolt unpleasantly, but at the last second, he shakes his head.

“Impossible to mess it up. Honestly,” he says reassuringly, and Jungkook almost believes him. “It’s a part of the journey and if you think she’s expecting it, just take the plunge. Don’t add unnecessary pressure by trying to make it perfect.”

While the last bit simply isn’t in Jungkook’s DNA, he nods anyway.

—

“Damn it.”

Lia doesn’t look up from the email she’s writing, despite Dal’s repeated exclamations from the kitchen. Finally, he sticks his head out around the door.

“Did you know the faucet is leaking?”

“Yes,” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.

“And did you know it’s dripping out of the sink zone and onto the floor?”

“Yeah?”

“And did you know it’s fucking disgusting?”

Lia sighs and finally turns her head to glance at him. “Yes, I know. I mopped it up this morning.”

Dal steps out, frowning. “So this much water leaked in the last six hours?” When Lia nods, he sighs heavily and trudges into the living room, falling onto the sofa. “I suppose we can text the landlord but I don’t know what good that will do.”

“Probably as much as it did when we told him about the seepage in the bathroom ceiling.”

“Yeah. Didn’t realise the kind of shoulder strength you need to baste upwards.” A moment later, he chuckles. “Helped that there were three of us there, though. Jungkook was really looking for any excuse to be around you back then, wasn’t he?”

Without meaning to, Lia feels a smile creep up her face at the memory. “It was cute,” she says, slightly defensive. “And we really needed the extra hands, especially to clean up.”

“Oh, sure.” There’s a comfortable silence, the only sound being the clicking of Lia’s keyboard. “Speaking of,” he speaks, and his tone is slightly different, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Lia doesn’t look up, but she’s certain she knows where he’s going with this. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You haven’t been around much.”

“You think so?”

“M-hm. In fact, I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out or something and I missed the memo.”

“You were still paying only half the rent, though, weren’t you?”

“Lia.”

“‘Sup.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a movement and ducks out of habit.

“Lee-lee,” he says again, and she finally meets his gaze.

“I know what you’re getting at, and no,” she says dryly, “no updates on that front. I’m still your roommate for the foreseeable future.”

Dal raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”

Lia turns back to her laptop but doesn’t resume her typing. “What?”

“What what?”

“You’re still looking at me.”

“No. I’m just looking in your general direction.”

She gives him a look. “Just say it.”

“I thought you were moving in with Jungkook.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he told me last time he came over that he wanted you to move in with him.”

Lia scoffs. “No way did he say that. Liar.”

“Fine, he didn’t use those exact words,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But he just happened to mention that his new place is bigger, that the gym is fantastic, that it has a really good running trail or something…”

“Maybe he was just making conversation?”

“... and how much closer it is to the Hybe office.”

He works at Hybe, too, technically. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t deflect anymore; Dal will see right through it. She sighs and puts her laptop away.

“What do you want me to say?” she asks steadily. “We aren’t living together. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m not saying it is, at all.” He holds up his hands. “Do you want to, though?”

Lia is silent for a moment. “He needs to ask first. But… yeah, I guess. Could be fun. We’ll save on a lot of fuel.”

“Ooh, stop, I’m swooning.”

She flashes him an embarrassed sort of smile. “You know what I mean. We basically do live together already - but this is a big deal for Jungkook. He’s never done the long-term relationship, adult couple milestone thing before. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.”

Dal nods thoughtfully. “Well, hopefully it’ll go better than your last adult couple milestone thing.”

She snorts, covering her face. “Hey, to be fair, I did move in with him,” she points out. “Kind of.”

“You lasted less than a month before you were back here.”

“Yeah. God, he was such a manchild. Can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.”

“I told you he had an asshat kind of face. But you didn’t listen. Didn’t he have a shrine to his ex-girlfriend in the bathroom or something?”

“It was a couple of bottles of her shampoo and lotion, not a shrine,” she corrects him, “but, sort of. He was so blown away when I asked him to get rid of it - like, sue me, I don’t want to live with my boyfriend and sentimental haircare products belonging to his ex. It just goes to show, you never know enough about your partner until you actually share a living space together.”

“You think there’s more to Jungkook? Because I like him for you, honestly. But he seems to be a more…” Dal grimaces, trying to find the word, “... what you see is what you get… kind of person.”

“That’s a good thing,” she remarks. “Means there’s no lying, no games. None of that shit.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, it’s good you know what you want. How long are we planning to wait for him to pop the question?”

“We are not waiting for anything. I, on the other hand…”

It’s a good question, unfortunately, one that Lia has deliberately tried not to think about because there’s simply no correct answer.

“... will take things as they come.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She narrows her eyes at her oldest friend, recognising both teasing masking genuine concern. “I’m not going to pressure Jungkook. And I’m not going to get my hopes up either,” she states, trying to ignore the quiet tugging at her heart and standing up, stretching.

“Hey, just say the word and I will -“ Dal makes a flailing kind of gesture and flexes his triceps, “- whip him into shape.”

“Oh, really? Not only will it probably be evenly matched, but who’s going to help you both carry cartons of beer into each other’s houses if you’re both maimed?” She taps her temple sarcastically.

“Well, you’ll be a resident in one of our houses at any given time so I guess we’ll be looking at you.” Dal shrugs in satisfaction as Lia chuckles and starts heading inside her bedroom, considering a shower before bed.

“Oi, Lia.”

Lia turns in her doorway, recognising the subtle change in tone once again. It wasn’t surprising that Dal and Jungkook got along easily enough; despite her boyfriend’s initial reservations, most of which were based on Dal’s gender and inopportune timing, he had eventually moved past it to begin actually enjoying his company. Oh, he would never admit it, but Lia had woken up more than once in her own bed, alone, while hearing two male voices laughing in the living room with the television on.

As for Dal, the only thing he had needed to say was “Lee-lee, for once, you’ve found a good boy.”

Therefore, while Lia prefers to handle her relationships herself, she recognises the value of her oldest friend’s opinion.

“I just want to let you know,” he begins seriously, and she feels the muscles in her face go slack. He bites his lip. “I just wanted to let you know,” he repeats, “that if Jungkook has a shrine to his ex in his house, you can always move back in here.”

There’s relief, and Lia doesn’t want to admit there’s relief. “Shut up,” she mutters, turning back around as Dal laughs at his own joke behind her.

It’s not the greatest comfort, but Lia uses it as such after that. Worst case, I move back in with Dal, she thinks. We stay roommates until we’re eighty, when either I die first from stress about work or he does driving his car like a maniac. Jungkook brings a carton of beer to the funeral and shares it with whichever one of us is still alive.

It’s a mildly depressing train of thought, especially when she imagines her eighty year old self heading back to her apartment while seventy-seven year old Jungkook, in his infinite wisdom, still hasn’t asked her to move in with him.

Nearly a week later, Lia has successfully kept her desires to herself, while Jungkook has continued trying to pretend he isn’t thinking about it just as much.

“Remind me again why we’re going to this club?” she asks him as they walk to his car in the basement parking. “It doesn’t really sound like your scene.”

“It isn’t,” he admits. “But the DJ tonight is a friend of a friend… of an acquaintance, who’s also kind of an ex-colleague.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t normally go but he helped me out during the production of my debut album and I accidentally told him I owed him.”

“Ah. Mistake number one.”

“It might be. You look quite club-ready for someone who doesn’t really enjoy clubs either,” he remarks, playfully smacking her backside. “Leather pants and everything.”

“Faux leather,” she corrects, leaning over and bumping his hip with hers. “I figured I may as well look the part of a popstar’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds after a moment, as they climb into the car and begin strapping in, “it’s the only party outfit I have at your place.”

Predictably, Jungkook freezes for a moment before clumsily buckling himself in. He doesn’t meet her eyes and swallows as he looks ahead.

“By the way, I hear the gin martinis at this club are to die for,” he declares, completely transparent. “Did you know, the martini is one of the top five drinks people order on a first date?”

Abrupt subject change coupled with a random fact that doesn’t sound completely true; Jungkook is nervous. It’s exasperating and endearing all at once.

“That’s… interesting. Maybe you should’ve invited your single friends tonight. Or if this DJ is an ex-colleague, at least the ones in your group.”

“What, all two of them?”

“Isn’t it three?”

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook shrugs as they pull out of Hannam Hill. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Yoongi hyung isn’t very forthcoming about his dating life and I’m too afraid to ask.”

Lia chortles as they turn into the main road, reaching for her party clutch for her phone, when she realises…

“Oh, no,” she mutters under breath.

“What?”

“I, uh…” She bites her lip, internally swearing at herself. “I was moving stuff from my regular bag to the clutch and I forgot… you know what, can we make a quick detour to my apartment? It’s on the way.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. If you take a right after the signal then you can take the parallel road to the church at the end of my street.”

“That’s not the same road - and come on,” he whines, his shoulders falling. “I don’t want to take a detour. What did you even forget? Power bank? Because my phone is fully charged.”

“It’s not a power bank - look, it’s kind of important, Jungkook. It’ll take, like, five extra minutes.”

“But -”

“Kook!”

“What? What did you even forget that’s so important? Is it make-up or something? Because you look -”

“It’s tampons, Jungkook.”

“It’s -”

“Tampons,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to stop at a drugstore because they may not have the exact brand that I use and most of the others chafe… down there.”

There’s a few seconds of silence while Jungkook stares out of the windshield as the car zooms down the road, his ears turning red.

“Which signal was it again?”

True to her word, they reach her three-storey apartment building a few minutes later and jog up the stairs together.

“I swear, I just need to pick up a couple of extras,” she promises him. “The last time I was caught without any on me and then I had to borrow one and it was just the worst time I - oh, my God!”

Lia gasps as she stops in her tracks in the doorway of her apartment, Jungkook right next to her.

“Is that -”

“Water,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Shit, it came into the living room? I thought we fixed that damn leak,” she mutters. She places her hands on her hips and looks up at Jungkook.

“Well?”

Jungkook looks blank. “Well… what?”

“Well… I’m going to have to wade in there,” she says slowly, already dreading it. “Do you want to come?”

“Ordinarily, I would love to because that sounds so fun, but these are Balenciaga.” He raises his right leg to show her his shoes, mimicking her position until Lia looks away.

“Alright. Wait here then,” she tells him, before gingerly placing one heeled foot into the water and cringing in anticipation. It reaches ankle deep, missing the hem of her pants only due to the height of her heels. With no specific attachment to her shoes, she takes a couple of more hesitant steps.

“Ugh, I can hear the faucet dripping from here,” she grumbles. “Sure you want to just wait out there?”

“Totally. You’re doing great, though, baby.” He grimaces as she walks further in. “Is it cold? It looks cold.”

“No, it’s room temperature. I’m just glad it hasn’t reached the sofa or the cushions or anything in the - whoa!” Lia grabs the arm of the chair beside her as she slips, thankfully saving her ankles as her knee breaks the fall.

There’s a sound of splashing before Jungkook is right next to her a second too late. “Shit, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. No injuries, I think.” She twists to see him kneeling next to her. “What happened to your Balenciagas?”

It seems to have occurred to him only now. “Oh…” He looks down at his shoes, now submerged. “I can try blow drying them, probably?”

“Probably.” She tries to hide a smile before giving up. “Take them off before they get any more damaged, though.”

He takes her advice this time and they both rid themselves of their shoes, tossing them on the chair before splashing their way into the kitchen.

Jungkook whistles. “Wow, that’s some leak,” he remarks, following her as she falls to her knees to get a good look at the thin but steady stream of water spilling from a crack in the pipe. “Is this the only leak?” he wonders out loud before pressing his hand against the crack so the water suddenly stops.

“No, there’s a small one here, too,” she answers, squinting at something on the other side of the pipe, a little higher up. “It’s only a few drops out of this one but it’s still bad enough.”

“Maybe we can -” Jungkook grunts and tugs at the pipe, “- wrench it into place? To block this crack?”

“Doubtful. It’s a really old pipe, too, so I’m afraid it might break.”

“It’s metal - can metal break?”

“I mean… yeah? I guess? Look, it’s all rusted up here.”

“Oh, yeah…”

In his effort to look, Jungkook’s hand slips off the crack and the flow of the water resumes.

“Okay, this can’t go on - we need to block this for now so we can get rid of this fucking flood,” she decides, noting in worry how the water level is slowly rising. ��And I’m calling the landlord tomorrow and giving him a piece of my mind.”

“Um -” Jungkook looks around from his position by the pipe. “We have a towel, some flour and stuff… maybe we stick some dough onto it?”

“Worth a shot but I don’t know if it’ll hold till tomorrow. Maybe we should try moving the pipe,” she admits, holding the top of it and wondering if it’ll work.

“Okay, let’s do that. Worst case, we find a plastic or metal box, cut it in just the right dimensions to cover the crack and fix it around the pipe.”

“Worst case.”

Jungkook waves her over and they grip the pipe together. “If this goes south, just remember that I love you.”

Despite the chaos and the fact that her faux leather pants are damp and disgusting, Lia snorts. “Shut up, you dork. Come on, let’s do this.” Both of them pull the top part towards the lower one to try and close the gap.

“A little to the left, come on…”

“It’s - not - moving -” Lia bites her lip and jerks the pipe back, accidentally slipping again and falling back onto her boyfriend. The jolt makes Jungkook tip over and the pipe twists on the rust, bursting.

“Oh, my - “ Jungkook’s words are cut off when a jet of water hits him square in the face. Lia gasps and reaches for the pipe as he fumbles, sputtering, and lunges towards the pipe to turn it away.

“Jungkook, no! It’ll break if you -”

But Lia is cut off as well and almost knocked backwards by the force of the water. It’s everywhere now; her clothes, her hair - she’s fully drenched. Next to her, Jungkook looks like he’s been dunked into a lake, his long thick hair sticking to his forehead.

“Take cover!” he yells, pulling open a cabinet behind him with one hand and yanking something out, while the other hand covers the jet of water uselessly. He replaces it with the lid of a cooking pan and tosses her another one which splashes into the water next to her.

“Thanks! I - Jungkook!” She brandishes the utensil while trying to dodge the water. “It’s a sieve!”

“What?”

“It has holes!”

“I can’t see! Wait -” He crawls towards the cabinet but slips midway, swearing loudly.

“Careful!” She ducks and tries to get to the pipe but feels him grip her forearm and pull her back.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” he yells, handing her another pan. “Jesus - how did you guys let this stupid faucet get this bad?”

“I told you - our landlord is a jackass who ghosts us if we bring up fixtures!”

“Well -” Jungkook pauses, wincing a little as the water continues to ricochet off the pan he’s holding up. “In that case, this is probably as good a time as any to ask you this, but do you want to move in with me?”

Lia almost swallows a mouthful of tap water. “What?”

“Just - I mean, this apartment is unlivable!” he says loudly. “And I’m a much better landlord! And also -” He gags and spits out some water, “- I love you and all!” He shrugs awkwardly, drenched to the bone with his oversized t-shirt sticking to his shoulders and chest.

Lia tries - she really tries - to keep a straight face, to attempt to understand what goes on in Jungkook’s head. But it’s a lost cause, for at the end of the day, whatever it is, it just works. Through the irritation at her landlord and the general shock of being waterboarded by a broken pipe, she sees it. A shine in his doe eyes, a hint of nervousness.

She doesn’t realise immediately why the water hits her suddenly with force or why Jungkook’s eyes widen belatedly.

“What are you doing? The water is - oh.” The anticipation turns into the beginnings of a smile when he works out why she has knee walked all the way towards him and he stands on his knees as well, just as she reaches him and places her arms around his neck, and kisses him.

When she pulls away, he’s grinning. “That’s a yes?”

“That’s a thank God you finally asked.”

Jungkook nods sheepishly. “I wanted it to be perfect, honestly. I was just waiting for the right time and -” He sighs, shaking his head so droplets of water fall from his hair.

“You know what? I think this, unexpected as it was, is pretty perfect,” she says honestly. “So… I guess that’s a yes,” she clarifies, meeting him in a kiss once again.

There’s a muffled sound and then a splash, followed by a gasp.

“Oh, my God! What the fuck?”

Jungkook jerks away, pursing his lips. “As long as he is never allowed in our house,” he declares, glaring and pointing in the direction of the living room.

She gives him a look. “Pretty sure you’ll crack before I do on that front,” she guesses, just as Dal appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking incredulous.

“What the fuck happened in here?”

“What do you think? That damn faucet,” she snaps, pointing at it. “This is the landlord’s problem now - he and his insurance can handle it.”

“I agree, but - God, are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we were using lids…” Jungkook picks his up and places it in front of the stream of water, much more unfazed about it now than he was before.

“Lids? Why didn’t you guys just turn off the water?” Taking a long step across the flooded kitchen floor, he reaches for a panel behind the left-most cabinet and twists a lever - and the water stops.

Speechless, Lia turns to look at Jungkook who is looking back at her with equal dismay. “We thought of dough before we thought of turning off the water,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“And we’re taking it to the grave,” she replies, squeezing his hand.

He’s wet, his designer clothes ruined - but Jeon Jungkook is glowing. A moment later, he squeezes her hand back.

“Deal.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanbathhouse #k-vanity #wkcnet #bangtanoasis #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook angst

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teshadraws · 8 months ago

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 56]

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Nia and Tobias fly across the Obsidian Sea, and reunite with a couple of familiar faces!

The next day dawns cold and clear. As Nia and Tobias make the walk to the flying outpost, Nia is quickly woken up by the delicate frost coating the leaf-littered forest floor and the foliage they have to pass through. Her fur feels soaked through within minutes and her paws are chilled, but the brisk pace of the walk helps to warm her up. Well, that and walking a bit closer to Tobias. The charmander seems equally disgruntled about the approaching winter, but he doesn’t snap at Nia for bumping into him once or twice as she leeches off his bubble of warmth.

The sun is just starting to cut through the trees in rays of orange light, melting the frost, when Nia spots the tall structure of the flying outpost ahead of them. She picks up the pace, trotting ahead until it’s fully in sight in the middle of a small clearing. Something like canvas has been tied down to block the open gaps of the structure, acting as makeshift walls to cut off powerful gusts of wind. They billow and blow in the breeze like sails, flapping loudly.

There are only a few Pokemon waiting near the bottom of the structure, but Nia’s eyes lock onto one in particular, large and maroon with a fluffy mane of white.

“Fliss!”

The braviary’s head lifts from where she’d been talking to a smaller, bright orange Pokemon. Even with the intimidating scar where her right eye should be, the way Fliss’ face lights up is nothing short of adorable. “Nia! Well, I’ll be! You looking for a ride?”

“Yes!” Nia slows to a stop in front of the braviary, bouncing on her toes. Both because she’s excited to see the large flying type again and to stay warm. “Are you flying today?”

“Sure am! A little frost ain’t gonna stop me. Where’s that partner of yours? You two still a team?”

Nia turns, just in time for Tobias to emerge from the brush with a sour look. He takes a moment to shake melted frost from his foot. “Here. Just hating winter.”

Fliss laughs and jerks her chin up at the pieces of canvas. “You ain’t the only one. Half our crew’s hiding away until the sun comes out to warm everything up.”

“They’ll have to face the winter eventually,” a new voice says, crisp and even. The bird Fliss had been speaking with before steps closer, and Nia can’t help staring at his feathers a bit longer than is probably polite. He’s a bright orange, the color ending in flame-like tapers and fading into a light gray underbelly. His wings and tail are a striking black at their tips, and streaks of bright yellow band his tail feathers and ring his eyes and beak. He looks like the embodiment of fire, just a head or so taller than Nia and Tobias.

“This ball of sunshine is Comet,” Fliss says, amused. “If you’re lookin’ for a long flight, then he’ll be joining us for the trip.”

Tobias frowns, looking between Fliss and the new Pokemon. “Why?”

Fliss and Comet exchange a loaded look. Then, Fliss sighs. “Was hoping you wouldn’t ask, little flame. We’ve just been flyin’ in pairs lately. Extra safety and all that.”

Nia blinks. “Safety?”

“The winds are more volatile than they used to be,” Comet says. “I promise you we can handle it. It’s just a precaution.”

Nia can’t help wondering what had to happen for such a precaution to be put into place. She shuffles worriedly on her feet, glancing at Tobias. He doesn’t look any more soothed than she feels. No wonder, considering they’ll have to fly over the Obsidian Sea again. An accident over the open ocean is basically a death sentence for a charmander.

“We need to head back to Ghatha,” Nia says, locking eyes with Fliss. “So we would need to go over the ocean. Are you sure it’s safe?”

Nia knows this is technically Fliss’ livelihood, but she trusts the flying type not to lie to her just to make some extra money. Not about this.

The braviary ducks her head in a bow. “I’m as confident as a victini in my flight. But if ya aren’t comfortable, you could always find some water transport.”

“Though the ocean is becoming just as unstable,” Comet mutters.

Tobias shakes his head. “No. No, we’re on a tight schedule. I’ll be fine.”

Nia wonders if he’s reassuring her or himself.

“Neither Felicity or I have had any incidents,” Comet says. “Going together is just extra assurance. New protocol.”

Nia exchanges an uncertain look with Tobias. Normally she wouldn’t want to risk it, but they don’t really have any other option. They need to talk to Will as soon as possible, and using water transport would take far too long.

“We’ll fly,” Tobias says, deciding for the both of them. “If you’ll take us.”

“Gladly!”

The cost for travel is a bit higher than it was before—to compensate two ‘mons’ time rather than just one, Fliss explains—but luckily August gave them more funds than he’d thought they’d need. Tobias splits the payment between the two flying types, dropping the coins into the little pouch tied around Fliss’ leg and the small bag tied to Comet’s back.

Finally, it’s time to fly.

“Welcome aboard!”

Fliss crouches low, belly brushing the grass, to let them crawl on. Tobias doesn’t hesitate before taking a firm grip of the bird’s feathers and pulling himself up onto her back. He offers a hand, and Nia gives him a smile of thanks before letting him help her up. She sits behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and grateful for his sturdy warmth.

“Smoother start than last time,” Fliss teases. “Ready to fly?”

Tobias nods. “Ready.”

Nia takes a deep breath. “As ready as I can be.”

Fliss laughs. “That’s what I like to hear! Just hold on tight now. Promise we’ll get ya to Ghatha safely.”

With that, Fliss pushes off the ground with powerful legs, giant wings beating hard to get into the air. She bobs once, then slowly lifts up and up and up. They rise past the outpost and the trunks of the trees, until they’re surging past leaves and into a sky that’s a robin’s egg blue.

Immediately, the wind buffets them, cold and biting.

Nia feels her stomach drop. She ducks her head into the warmth of Tobias’ shoulder, clinging tightly to him. She feels more than hears him sigh, but he doesn’t argue, just patting her arm twice once before holding once more to Fliss’ feathers.

Fliss rises higher and higher until she catches the air current she wants, then levels out to ride the wind. While the bone-deep fear clutching at Nia’s gut doesn’t disappear entirely, it does ease a bit once their jerky flight smooths out.

Nia almost wants to peek out at the world, recalling the brief glimpses of gorgeous, breathtaking views from last time. Plus, Tobias clearly loves this whole experience. It’d be fun to share it with him.

But as soon as she squints open an eye and catches sight of the sprawling forest below, looking as small as a carpet of moss, and the sheer openness of the sky around them, terror grabs her again.

She buries her head back into Tobias’ shoulder, taking deep breaths of his soothing scent to calm herself.

Nia still can’t remember if she’d flown before as a human. She knows planes are a thing, but her memory has only returned in bits and pieces. Much of her history is still blank, like a tapestry that’s more moth-eaten holes than actual thread. Was she afraid of heights in the human world too? Or is her body’s fighting type nature really enough to put such fear into her?

It’s hard to describe the feeling, especially as it engulfs her and makes her feel lightheaded. It’s like as much as she knows they’re (probably) safe with Fliss and Comet taking care of them, her body trembles with the knowledge that if she fell from here, she’d likely die. Her chest feels tight, her heart pounding hard against Tobias’ spine, and panic simmers quietly in the back of her mind.

“You breathing back there?” Tobias asks, head turning enough for Nia to catch the words.

Nia takes a gulp of air. Then another, slower, to try and follow his unspoken suggestion. Deep breaths. Just don’t think about it. You’re fine. Tobias is here, and Fliss is here, and if something goes wrong then Comet is here too.

“C-Can you talk?” Nia asks.

“Uh. I guess? About what?”

“Anything. I-I just need a distraction. Um. What kind of Pokemon is Comet?”

“Oh. He’s a talonflame. Fire and flying type, like a charizard. I don’t know too much about them, but he’s the final evolution in a three-stage form, and I can tell he’s fast. He keeps having to pull himself back so he doesn’t leave Fliss behind.”

Nia can’t bring herself to answer, breath stolen from her chest, so she nods.

Tobias keeps talking. “Uh. I think the first form is called a fletchling? They’re little things, about Junie’s size. Don’t remember the middle form’s name, though. Um…they’re probably pretty warm, if they’re anything like other fire types. That’s likely why he’s comfortable flying so early in the day, when it’s still cold.”

Comet must catch onto what Tobias is doing and what they’re discussing, because when Tobias starts running out of tidbits to share, Nia hears the talonflame’s voice shout to them over the wind.

“Talonflame are certainly a warmer species. We even create fire with our feathers, rather than a flame sac like most fire types. We produce an oil that’s flammable, and generate heat and friction through flapping our wings to ignite.”

“Watch,” Tobias says, tapping Nia’s arm.

Nia whines, but peeks open an eye in the direction of Comet’s voice.

Comet is sailing easily along on an air current, framed by blue sky. Upon seeing that he has her attention, he flaps his wings—once, twice, three times—and small embers spark to life from his feathers, leaping behind him to be carried away by the wind.

Nia’s curiosity just barely wins out over her fear. She lifts her head to watch more clearly as Comet does it again. He flaps once, hard, and flames burst to life around his wings, hot enough that Nia feels a brief wave of warmth. Then he shoots forward, zipping past Fliss.

“Show-off!” Fliss shouts, laughter in her voice.

“She was curious,” Comet counters, voice now on their other side.

Nia turns to look at him, mouth open to ask questions about how they can choose when to ignite, and if fletchlings can do that too, and a hundred other things—

But she catches sight of the Silenfroar Mountains behind the talonflame, remembers where she is, and icy fear grips her again. She buries her face with a whimper, feeling pathetic.

Tobias sighs.

“Want me to take a turn on distraction duty?” Fliss calls.

Someone must give her the affirmative, because she starts talking. “Did ya know that there’s another variant of braviary out there? Psychic and flying type! I met one once, and he could blast enough psychic energy to knock out a wailord. I can pack a punch myself, so I was mostly just jealous that he could use his powers to write! This old gal is forever cursed with illiteracy.”

“You can read,” Comet says, dry.

“Half-illiteracy, then!”

“That’s not how it works.”

Nia giggles despite herself, grateful for her travel companions as they fall into more animated conversation. Like this, if Nia keeps her eyes closed and takes deep breaths, if she lets the breeze soothe her and imagines she’s just on a windy hillside rather than hundreds of feet in the air, it’s not too terrible. Although Nia wishes she could whip out her blanket without risk of it blowing away. It’s much colder than the last time they flew.

The three Pokemon keep the conversation flowing, shifting from one topic to another, until Fliss finally asks why they’re returning to Ghatha so soon.

“We’re actually going to Stonebrook, a bit south of Ghatha,” Tobias says. “We’re meeting someone there.”

“Oh, Stonebrook!” Fliss crows. “Nice little place. Quaint. We could drop ya off there if you’d prefer, for a bit of extra poke to compensate our time.”

Tobias makes a thoughtful sound that rumbles in his chest. “How much extra?”

“Let’s say 150.”

Tobias mulls it over, and Nia can feel him turn his head as if to get her input.

“Whatever you think is best,” Nia says into his shoulder.

Tobias hesitates for a moment longer before turning forward again. “100 poke and you’ve got a deal.”

Fliss laughs, loud and booming even as the wind snatches the sound away. “Haggler, eh? You know what? Sure. I like you two, so 100 poke it is. Comet, you can have the larger share since I took the lower deal.”

Comet doesn’t answer, so Nia assumes he agrees with those conditions.

Time passes in a blur after that. Nia knows that they have at least a few hours until they reach the land across the sea, but she tries to distract herself by listening to the snippets of conversation around her and thinking about what they have waiting ahead of them. They’re going to find Junie! And see Will again, as well as his human settlement. Excitement mixes in with the nerves in her stomach.

However, it's hard not to let her mind drift to more panic-inducing thoughts too, like their current situation in the air, or their mission from Giratina, or even how much she misses her family in the human world when she has the time to think about them.

Nia wants them here. She wants her mom to stroke her hair and soothe her fear. She wants Clay to make stupid jokes to distract her. She wants Toni to stick her obnoxiously large headphones over Nia’s ears to drown out the quiet roar of the wind.

She misses them so much. Longing aches like a bruise inside her chest.

Nia sniffs and hopes that Tobias doesn’t notice her shaky breaths. Tears prick at her eyes, hot and insistent.

Nia misses them, and she doesn’t even have the full story. She’d hoped that after getting sick and remembering some of her life as a human, the rest of her memories would follow. But after the initial deluge, they’d slowed to a stop. She knows she’s still missing a lot, still has giant gaps in her memory that feel impossible to focus on for too long. What was the last thing she even did with her family before showing up here?

Nia is pulled out of her thoughts when Tobias speaks up, tapping her arm. “We’re at the ocean.”

Nia doesn’t think he means for her to look up, just to update her, so she nods her thanks into his shoulder.

After that, Nia tries to let the loud howl of the wind and the roar of the waves drown out her thoughts and anxieties. Tries to let the sensations surround her in a fuzzy haze.

She’s snapped back to reality by the sudden tilt of the world.

Nia squeaks, clinging to Tobias as Fliss’ considerable mass is knocked sideways by a sudden gust of wind. The braviary flaps wildly to correct herself, and Nia’s stomach flips. Oh, they’re gonna die they’re gonna die they’re gonna die—

Fliss finally manages to catch a gentler air current, leveling out her erratic flight. Nia keeps her face hidden away, focusing on her death grip around Tobias’ ribs and the way he’s clutching at her arm in return.

“Are you two all right?” Comet yells, sounding more tense than Nia would like. His voice is closer too, as if hovering near enough to catch them if they fall.

Tobias squeezes Nia’s wrist, whether to reassure her or himself that she’s still hanging on. “I don’t know if I’d say all right, exactly, but we’re still here. What was that?”

“Rogue wind,” Fliss calls back. “I’ve sailed these currents for more than twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like ‘em. They like to pop up out of nowhere and throw us off course.”

“A symptom of the increasing natural disasters, as far as we can tell,” Comet adds. “It certainly makes travel more difficult. Dangerous, particularly for the smaller flyers.”

Nia’s heart sinks. This is just one more reminder of what they’re trying to stop. Of what will come to pass if they don’t fix the world. Nia can imagine the winds growing untamed enough eventually to ground flyers completely, whipping up storms and typhoons to wreak havoc alongside earthquakes and droughts.

Nia takes another deep breath to ward off fresh panic. This is why they’re going to see Will. They’re going to fix this. All of it.

“Don’t you worry—I’m much tougher than any rowdy wind!” Fliss calls, trying to sound upbeat. “You two just hold on tight and we’ll be sure to get you to Stonebrook safely.”

Tobias nods, but doesn’t respond. Nia, still trying to calm her racing heart, simply holds onto him tighter. She already didn’t like flying, but the thought that the world could suddenly flip and toss them into the ocean at any time is ten times worse. Not that she doesn’t trust Fliss, but she distrusts the current state of nature even more.

“I’ll scout ahead to make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Comet calls, just loud enough to hear, before Nia feels another burst of warmth from his flames. He must’ve jetted forward to fly just ahead of Fliss.

Unfortunately, conversation stops after that as Fliss and Comet focus on navigating the rough air currents. Time passes in tense quiet, aside from the rush of the wind and the roar of the waves. Every time a gust of wind shakes up their flight even the slightest bit, Nia’s heart jumps into her throat.

When Tobias finally speaks again, it’s quiet and almost to himself. “Huh.”

Nia tightens her grip on her partner. “W-What? Is something wrong?”

“No. I don’t think so, at least.” Tobias leans slightly, as if peering over Fliss’ side. “Giratina’s following us.”

That’s interesting enough to make Nia look up. She debates with herself for just a moment before steeling her courage, tightening her grip, and following Tobias’ gaze down, to the choppy ocean below.

Sure enough, Nia spots Giratina’s giant, serpentine shape in the broken reflections on the ocean’s surface. He’s following alongside Fliss’ quick pace, winding like a snake through black water.

Fliss notices the legendary’s presence, but she must think it’s another Pokemon because she just gripes about nosy water types before flapping higher to catch a different current. Nia stiffens at the reminder of how high up they are and burrows back into her safe space.

“Surely he has better things to do than follow us around,” Tobias says.

“Maybe we should give him an update?” Nia suggests. “To be fair, he doesn’t know what we’re doing. We could try talking to him through a reflection later?”

“Maybe.”

And with that, they fall silent again.

____________________________________________________________

It’s late morning when they finally make it back to land, and almost noon by time Fliss calls out that they’ll be landing in Stonebrook in a few minutes.

The rest of their flight had been uneventful after that first incident. Comet had successfully steered them around any other severe turbulence, and the cold weather had warmed with the sun beating down on their backs. Still, Nia is beyond relieved to have the end of their flight so near, and she manages to lift her head and take a peek at where they’re going.

The forest below looks different from the one in Bethoc’s Haven. The trees back home are a range of species, mostly deciduous, with spreading boughs and wide leaves that change colors and wither away with the seasons. These trees, even from a distance, stand tall and pointed, a rich palette of greens despite the approaching winter. Evergreens?

Fliss and Comet aim for a notable gap in the trees. As they start to descend, Nia realizes they aren’t just settling in a small grove or clearing, but instead at the edge of a tiny village nestled amongst the trees. There are small buildings scattered throughout the space, built from boulders and slabs of stone propped against one another. Other than a few purposeful openings that are clearly windows, any gaps are filled in with smaller, carefully stacked stones. A stream winds through the town, stepping stones bridging its two halves, and even this late in autumn the whole place feels green and lush, each building topped by a grassy roof. They must be farther south than Nia had realized.

Pokemon are scattered around the village, going about their day. Children are chasing each other down dirt paths, shrieking with laughter, while a couple of adults talk and watch the kids from outside stone homes. Others appear to be doing chores or running errands. One building is seemingly the home of a merchant, and a few Pokemon are crowded around the little window where he’s exchanging goods. Smoke rises from another building, and Nia catches the savory scent of something cooking. Some Pokemon are even riding a cart out of town on the main path, heading who knows where.

Fliss finally touches down, and Nia wastes no time in sliding off her back. The cool, pine needle-strewn dirt below her feet is blessedly solid.

“Oh, thank God,” Nia breathes, sinking to the ground. Her legs are somehow both stiff and flimsy as jelly.

Fliss laughs, lowering herself so Tobias can slide down much more gracefully.

“You good?” He asks.

Nia groans, leaning forward to press her forehead against the dirt. Tobias gives her a patronizing pat on the back.

“Apologies again for the rough flight over,” Comet says, stepping closer.

“But we did get you here in one piece!” Fliss says, giving an exaggerated wink with her one good eye.

Tobias helps Nia to her feet. “That you did. Thanks.”

“We’re planning to head to Ghatha right away for our next job, so you may need to make the journey north on foot if you need a return flight,” Comet says.

“That’s fine!” Nia says, giving Comet a weak smile as she starts stretching out her stiff legs. “We probably won’t need a flight ‘mon for a while, anyways. We need to find someone here in town, and then we’re heading south.”

“Fair enough,” Fliss says. “Well, it was good seeing you two again, despite the rocky weather. Be careful on your travels and be sure to find us again if you need a flight! It’s always a pleasure having you as riders.”

“Thanks, Fliss,” Nia says, smiling warmly at the braviary. “I can’t say it’s been, um…fun, exactly, but I appreciate you doing your best to make it easier for me. Both of you.”

Comet dips his head. “Of course. It was nice meeting you both.”

With that, Fliss and Comet step back and take flight again, flapping up and into the sky. Nia waves them off until they’re out of sight.

Then it’s just Nia and Tobias standing at the edge of the village. Stonebrook is absolutely tiny, maybe ten or twelve small buildings in all, and Nia can see clear to the other side of town from where they’re standing. While the inhabitants of the village aren’t approaching them, there are one or two Pokemon watching them curiously, clearly wondering who they are and why they flew to Stonebrook of all places.

“Well, we’re here. Now what?” Tobias asks.

“Well…” Nia trails off, looking around. “I guess we just ask around until someone can point out where Junie lives? It can’t be too hard to find her in a town this small.”

Tobias shrugs, clearly not thrilled about socializing with a bunch of strangers, but follows as Nia wanders into the village proper, towards the merchant shop she’d spotted earlier.

“This place is nice,” Nia says, smiling as one of the children she’d seen before runs past her. The kid, a brown chipmunk Pokemon with a leafy green bonnet, does a double-take at the two strangers in his village, and skids to a stop. The Pokemon that had been chasing the little guy slams into him, and the two fall into a squirming, squabbling heap.

“It’s definitely not where I expected Junie of all Pokemon to settle down,” Tobias says, stepping around the kids. “It’s too…”

“Peaceful?”

“I was going to say boring, but yeah.”

Nia elbows him to be polite, still looking around as they approach the merchant’s shop. The village is open to the sun, but it’s surrounded by a thick wall of pine trees. Nia can’t decide if the forest feels reassuring or confining. Then again, she lives inside a giant tree, so she doesn’t really have room to talk.

“Nia?”

Nia stops in place, ears perking at the familiar voice. She spins to find it, beaming when she sees Junie stopped mid-step mere feet away. The rookidee is clearly shocked, beak open and wide ruby eyes flicking between Nia and Tobias in disbelief.

“Junie!” Nia says.

Junie blinks once. Twice. Then she finally seems to register that this is really happening. She tweets an excited, shrill noise before rocketing into Nia’s open arms. Nia falls to the dirt and moss, laughing.

“What’re you doing here?!” Junie says, nuzzling into Nia’s fur. “Where did you even come from?”

“We flew!” Nia laughs, hugging her. “Did you not see us? Half the village has been staring at us since we landed.”

“I just got into town!” Junie leans back just enough to meet Nia’s eyes, feathers fluffed with excitement. “What’re you doing here?!”

Nia feels her smile falter a bit. She sits up, and Junie resettles in her lap. “We have business south of here, so we thought we would stop by and visit you on the way.”

“I’m so glad you did! I missed your adorable face.” Junie’s gaze flicks behind Nia to where Tobias is standing, and she perks up all over again. “And Toby’s here too!”

“I told you not to call me that,” Tobias growls.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your charming personality!”

Nia giggles, while Tobias just rolls his eyes.

“Ahem.”

Nia and Junie look up to see a pink cow Pokemon standing over them, a basket full of linens held against her hip.

Oh. They decided to have their reunion right in the middle of town, didn’t they? And right in the middle of one of the walking paths, too.

Junie laughs and flaps her way out of Nia’s lap. “Sorry, Marie!”

Nia scrambles to follow. “Sorry, ma’am!”

Marie shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she passes. “Good to see you so happy, Junie. Just keep the paths clear, all right?”

Junie salutes the Pokemon’s back, sending Nia a wry smile.

Huh. Nia had gotten the impression back in Ghatha that Junie didn’t talk to her neighbors much, but that was a pretty casual exchange with Marie. Maybe she’s grown more comfortable with them since then?

Once the cow Pokemon is out of earshot, stopping outside of her home to hang the linens on a makeshift clothesline, Junie turns to Nia. “Come on, we can go back to my place.”

“Oh, sure!”

Nia and Tobias follow as Junie hops down one of the village’s dirt paths, then leaves the trail entirely to head into the woods.

Nia hesitates at the tree line, watching Junie’s dark feathers get nearly swallowed up by the forest’s heavy shade. The three of them are dwarfed by the tall evergreens here.

“You don’t live in town?” Nia asks.

“Nope! I live with Bo now! He should actually be stopping by the house soon with some lunch.”

Nia’s brows rise at the bird’s easy answer, but she dutifully follows before she can lose sight of the rookidee.

Junie had seemed so stubbornly independent back in Ghatha. When did that change? Nia did tell her she should try connecting more with her neighbors, but this feels like a big step.

“Bo?” Tobias asks when they catch up.

“Yeah! He’s a dork, but he’s the best. A real metal guy.”

Nia tilts her head, hearing the joke in Junie’s voice but unsure of what to make of it. A pun, no doubt.

“Is he your, um…”

Junie must pick up on what Nia is asking, because she scrunches up her face and sticks out her tongue. “Ew, no, gross. He’s like. A dad. Or an older brother, maybe. Oh! No, wait, he’s definitely an uncle!”

“How do you just decide that someone’s an uncle?” Tobias asks.

“When they have uncle energy, duh. Keep up, Toby.”

Tobias sends Nia a look that makes it clear he’s already done with Junie for this visit. Nia bites back a laugh.

The rookidee leads them farther into the forest than Nia expects, until Stonebrook is out of sight behind them and they’re surrounded by the quiet of the trees. It’s heavily shaded here with the canopy of evergreens so thick, and the air cools notably. At first, Nia almost finds it unnerving, used to the dappled sunshine of the forest in Bethoc’s Haven, but the peaceful quiet and gentle, dark colors grow on her quickly. The ground underfoot is a soft mix of dirt, moss, and soft pine needles, and the air is fragrant with the scent. The trunks of the pines tower above them. There’s less foliage to wade through, which is nice. It’s not bad, necessarily. Just…different.

Finally, Nia sees something up ahead, an out of place gray amongst the cool browns and greens of the forest.

“This is where we live!” Junie chirps, hopping ahead to present it with a wide flourish of her wings.

It’s a small abode made of stone, much like the homes back in Stonebrook proper. One of its walls seems to be made up of the large tree it’s propped against, and its roof is a grassy slant of soil atop a slab of stone. The other walls are made of smaller, carefully stacked rocks, with only two rectangular gaps left on either side of the wooden door—windows, most likely, seeing as they’re currently covered by leafy blinds. There are a few flowers and paint doodles decorating the outside, almost certainly Junie’s doing, that brighten the gray exterior. The little house is cushioned by moss and framed by more giant pine trees, but there are a few slices of sunshine in this part of the forest, making the whole place look homey rather than unwelcoming.

“It’s lovely!” Nia says, charmed.

“You sleep on the ground?” Tobias asks, sounding more confused than anything.

“Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Junie asks, giving him a glare. “You sleep on the ground!”

“We literally live in a tree.”

Junie stops mid-retort, blinking. “Huh. Guess you do. Still! Lots of Pokemon sleep on ground level!”

“Not flying types.”

“We’ve had some rough storms around here, okay?” Junie huffs. “Besides, I used to sleep in trees before moving in with Bo, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I kept falling out, and it got so drafty! This is much cozier.”

“Or maybe you’re just a weirdo.”

“Maybe it’s just your human side talking,” Nia suggests, biting back a laugh at the cross look Junie sends her partner. “Humans do like being cozy.”

“Because it’s the best!” Junie says with a decisive nod. She opens her mouth to say something else, then pauses, glancing up through the trees as they rustle with the wind. “Oh! I think Bo’s home!”

Nia peers up through the pine branches and the slivers of sunlight, but she can’t see much of anything through the thick boughs.

“I’d step back if I were you,” Junie says, hopping back against the house. “I’ve been knocked over by his tailwind more times than I can count.”

Finally, Nia sees him: a silver bird diving through a gap in the evergreens. He flashes bright when he cuts through a ray of sunlight, like the sun reflecting off a car, and the undersides of his wings are a scarlet red. As he descends, Nia realizes just how big he really is, and scrambles back to make room, Tobias right on her heels.

The bird slows down with a few powerful flaps right before he meets the forest floor. The gust created from his wings makes Nia brace herself against the house and squint her eyes shut as he settles heavily onto the mossy ground.

Nia blinks grit from her eyes and trails her gaze up from huge talons and a bulky silver body until she finds the bird’s face. He’s gotta be over two times their height, and he’s seemingly covered in…metal? The wings he tucks against his sides almost seem to be tipped in blades, sharp as they are, but they don’t cut through the satchel strapped around his body. His head is an equally sharp thing, with a wicked beak of sharp teeth and a spike of metal atop his head, almost like a helmet. He meets Nia’s gaze with keen yellow eyes.

“You didn’t tell me we were having visitors, Junebug,” the bird says, voice more playful than Nia expects. “I would’ve cleaned the place up a bit. Now I just look like a bad host.”

Junie laughs, hopping forward to gesture with her wings. “I’m just as surprised as you are! These are the friends I told you about, from Ghatha! Nia and Toby.”

“Tobias, actually,” Tobias corrects. It’s halfhearted, though, as he sizes up the Pokemon in front of them.

Nia gives the large bird a smile and a shy wave.

The bird squawks a laugh. “You two are just like Junie described! Nice to meet you. I’m Bolat. Local mail ‘mon and self-appointed wrangler for this little impidimp.”

Bolat reaches out a taloned foot to nudge Junie, surprisingly gentle. The rookidee trills an annoyed sound as she’s still nearly knocked over, but she’s smiling.

“I keep your life exciting and you know it!”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nia says, bowing lightly. Tobias doesn’t say anything, but Nia sees him give the bird a respectful nod.

“You too.” Bolat tilts his head, looking at them consideringly. “Do you two plan to bunk with us tonight?”

“Oh! I-I mean, we can find somewhere else to sleep if it’s any trouble, but—”

Bolat laughs and shakes his head. “No no, you’re fine. We have room. We’ll just need to get you some bedding for a proper nest. Guessing you haven’t done that yet?”

“They just got here!” Junie says. “Gimme like an hour. There’s some decent stuff in that glen west of here, right?”

Bolat hums, eyeing the two of them again before turning back to Junie. “How about I just grab some bedding for the night while I’m out on my second run? I’m sure you want to catch up anyways.”

Nia almost protests out of pure politeness, but glances at Junie instead. This is her home, after all. Even if Nia is surprised that the little bird isn’t immediately insisting she can do it herself.

After a moment of thought, though, Junie just nods. “If you don’t mind, that’d be awesome! Thanks, Bo.”

“Eh, no big. It’s a slow day anyways. Ah, here.” Bolat lifts a wing to dip his beak into the satchel looped over his body, rummaging around through…letters? He finally re-emerges with a small sack, which he drops in front of Junie. “Grabbed some lunch. Make sure you eat a few of the chestnuts and greens—you need more bulk if you want to carry more than a letter at a time.”

Junie groans and butts her head against Bolat’s leg with a thonk. “I know, I know! I’ll eat my stupid veggies. Thanks.”

Bolat laughs again and looks at Nia and Tobias. “There should be enough in there for all three of you, if you haven’t had lunch yet. I’ll pick something else up for myself.”

“Are you sure?” Nia asks, ears lowering. She can’t help feeling like they’re imposing, showing up so suddenly and making Bolat do so much for them.

“Of course!” Bolat waves them off with a giant wing. “Any friend of June’s is a friend of mine. Make yourselves at home.”

“Well…thank you, then.”

“’Course.” Bolat squints up through the trees at the midday sunshine. “I’d better get going if I don’t want to be late, though. Can you hold down the fort until I get back, Junebug?”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” Junie says, saluting with her little wing.

“In that case, I’ll see you all this evening with bedding in tow. See you!”

Bolat barely waits for Nia and Tobias to say their own goodbyes before he’s flapping hard at the ground again and lifting up into the air. Nia watches, kind of awestruck that a bird seemingly made of metal can appear so light and graceful as he flies up between the trees and out of sight.

Then Nia squints, looking down at Junie. “’A real metal guy?’”

Junie chirps a laugh. “I wasn’t lying, was I?”

Tobias snorts. “A skarmory’s about as metal as a flying type can get.”

“Exactly! Now, come on in. I can’t make you guys proper nests until Bo brings back some fluff, but we can still catch up and eat!”

Junie grabs the lip of the sack of food and drags it along behind her, flapping furiously against its weight. Nia holds open the front door so Junie can get inside, watching as the little bird pulls open the blinds on the two small windows to let in some fresh air and sunlight. Then Nia follows her, surprised by how the inside of the little home feels both cozy and more spacious than she expects.

It’s clearly a space built for just one or two Pokemon, but it’s organized. There’s a small basin off to one side of the room, with bowls, cloths, and other supplies resting near it on a small, flat boulder. On the other side, there’s a larger slab of stone, where two nests sit. One is clearly Junie’s, a tiny bowl of moss and pine needles perfectly sized to cup her body. The second nest is much, much larger, and Nia has to stare at it for a moment to try to understand what she’s looking at.

Are those…thorns?

Junie notices Nia’s expression and twitters a laugh. “Yeah, Bo sleeps in a nest of brambles. Apparently lots of skarmory do it to protect their chicks and toughen up their feathers or something? Or he’s just a freak, I dunno.”

“That’s, um…really intense,” Nia settles on.

“Right?! I’ll stick with my soft, squishy nest, thank you very much. I’m a delicate lady, after all.”

Over near the table, Tobias snorts.

“Oh, what?” Junie says, playfully challenging. “Something you want to say, Toby?”

“Lots of things. But then Nia would scold me for being rude.”

“Like that ever stopped you before.”

Nia smiles as the two go back and forth. She trails closer to the nests, which are sitting right next to one another, almost touching.

“You two seem close,” Nia says, glancing back at Junie.

“I mean…I guess? I haven’t really been here that long.”

“Yeah, but you seemed really against letting anyone help you back in Ghatha. So I guess I’m just glad you found someone here you trust.”

“Yeah…” Junie starts preening her wing, visibly embarrassed. “I was being kind of dumb about that, in hindsight. Like. Bo can be ridiculous, but he’s super nice, y’know? I really like living here. He’s been teaching me a lot, too! Like getting me to fly higher without freaking out.”

Nia turns to look at Junie. “Really?”

“Yup! I can even fly above the trees now! Not by much before I panic again, but I’m definitely better than before. Bo thinks he can get me over my fear of heights in under a year!”

“See if he can teach Nia, too,” Tobias jokes, picking up a bowl to inspect it.

“This…seems like a big deal to you,” Nia says slowly, a little confused. “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong! It’s great! But your fear of heights didn’t seem to bother you that much before?”

“Well…” Junie hops over to fiddle with the tie on the sack of food, clearly looking for something to keep herself busy. “I couldn’t help you in the fire at Ghatha because I was too scared of flying, and I only ended up living with Bo because I was too weak to navigate a storm. So I guess I just want to get better at being a flying type so I can actually do things and not be scared all the time. Plus, I’ll need to be able to fly for real if I want to have a more exciting job than just running errands around Stonebrook.”

“A job?” Tobias asks, frowning. “Like as a Seeker?”

Junie bursts into laughter. “Absolutely not! Fighting’s the worst. Don’t know how you do it, Nia. And dealing with clients and guildmasters? Ugh. No thanks.”

“What’re you hoping to do instead?” Nia asks.

“I’m thinking a mail ‘mon like Bo!” Junie says. She abandons the sack and hops up onto the windowsill to better meet Nia’s gaze. She looks excited, chest puffed and eyes bright. “It’ll take me a few years to learn the landscape well enough to find my way around, and I have to build up enough strength to actually carry a few letters long distance—especially since I have to stay a pipsqueak forever—but I think I’d really like it! Bo’s let me tag along on a few of his runs and it’s the best. He gets to go everywhere and he meets so many funny people!”

Nia blinks at Junie’s enthusiasm, surprised. That’s…quite the long-term goal. Without thinking, she says, “Years? But what about getting back home?”

Junie seems confused for a moment, but then she pouts. “Oh. Right. You still want to be human again, don’t you?”

Nia jerks back. She remembers Junie mentioning something like this in Ghatha, but— “You don’t? You want to stay here? Like this? Forever?”

Junie’s pout deepens into something more genuinely troubled. Her eyes flick to Tobias before resettling on Nia. “Yeah? Just because you want to go back to the boring old human world doesn’t mean everyone does.”

“But…” Nia trails off, at a loss for words. She looks at Tobias, wondering if he’s as surprised as she is. He’s pointedly fiddling with the bowl in his hands, not meeting Nia’s eyes. Oh. Right. Leaving would mean…leaving him behind. And everyone else, too.

But even with that in mind, Nia still can’t help her shock. When she thinks of the human world, she doesn’t think of how boring it can be. She thinks of her family, of going home and reuniting with them. She thinks of her brother pulling her into a crushing hug and lifting her off the ground. She thinks of her mom crying and cooking a big meal for the family to eat together. She thinks of Toni refusing to leave her side for a week straight and catching her up on everything she missed.

Does Junie not have people like that to go home to?

“Do you not remember anything yet?” Nia asks. “About your old life?”

Junie hops down to the soft dirt of the floor and back over to the sack of food. “No, I remember. Not a lot, but enough. It just isn’t good enough to convince me to go back.”

“Wait, doesn’t Will have some theory about humans having to get close to death to regain their memories?” Tobias asks, narrowing his eyes at Junie. “Did you get your memories back after the fire in Ghatha?”

“Nope! Not there. I got pretty hurt right after I got back to Stonebrook, so it must’ve been then. I didn’t know about the whole near-death thing, but it did happen while I was recovering, so.”

“You got hurt?!” Nia asks, alarmed despite knowing that Junie has been totally fine the entire time they’ve been talking. She still can’t resist stepping closer and crouching to scan the delicate little bird’s body. “It had to be serious if you remembered something.”

Junie chirps a laugh. “Sure was! A nasty storm hit the woods and a branch fell on me. Almost flattened me like a pancake! Funny how that’s almost happened twice now, huh? Anyways, that’s how I met Bo! He helped me get back on my feet. Oh! And look at this!”

Junie ignores the distress surely painting Nia’s face to hop back a step. Then, with a furrow in her little brow and a few moments of quiet, a bubble of bright orange energy flickers to life around her.

Aura. Junie’s aura. Nia can sense it immediately, even if she hadn’t been able to see it herself. Her jaw drops.

The bubble around the rookidee only lasts for a second or two, weak and faint, before vanishing again. Junie pants, clearly exhausted from the little display, but beams at Nia and Tobias’ gobsmacked expressions.

“I used protect when the branch landed on me! Though apparently not very well, since I still fractured some bones. Definitely not as strong as the one you used in Ghatha, Nia. But still! Isn’t that cool?!”

“You can use aura now?” Tobias asks, looking horrified. He’s probably thinking about Junie possessing all of the intimate soul-reading powers that Nia has.

Junie shakes her head. “Nah. Just this one move. But I still thought it was neat!”

“It is neat,” Nia offers a beat too late, feeling off-kilter. That one book in the archives did mention that all humans could use protect, but it’s still strange seeing it in action.

Junie puffs out her little chest, proud, before realizing something. She glares at Nia. “Wait, you also got some of your memories back? That means you almost died again, too! I thought I told you guys not to get into any more trouble!”

Nia winces, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. “T-To be fair, I just got really sick?”

“That’s an understatement,” Tobias grumbles, walking over to flick Nia with his tail.

“Oh.” Junie’s irritation deflates. “That sucks.”

“A little,” Nia laughs. “Although…Junie, do me a favor and promise to go to a doctor right away if you get sick, okay? It can get pretty serious for humans.”

Junie opens her mouth to make a lighthearted quip, but something about the expressions on their faces stops her. She tilts her head, clearly curious, but eventually chirps, “Yeah, okay. I promise.”

After that, they settle on the ground outside to eat, where the dirt and moss has been warmed a bit by the sun. Tobias opens the sack Bolat brought back, where a small feast of berries, veggies, and some spiky chestnuts await them for lunch.

Junie gets to work carefully cracking open the chestnuts with her beak while Nia and Tobias divvy up the rest of the food for their impromptu picnic. It’s still chilly out, especially in the shade of the forest, but it’s not as cold as it was while flying over. The wind smells like fresh pine as it rattles through the trees, and dappled sunlight plays across the ground.

“I still feel bad eating the food Bolat got specifically for you two,” Nia says as Junie passes them some of the unshelled chestnuts to add to their meal.

“Don’t be. Bo’s really generous, and he finds lots of food while he’s out on the job. He took me in when I got hurt and took care of me without a second thought.”

Nia smiles as she takes a bite of a carrot-like vegetable, crunching away at it. Bolat does seem awfully nice, and Nia’s beyond grateful that Junie found someone like him to take care of her when she was so injured. She doesn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened otherwise.

“So, catch me up,” Junie says around a mouthful of food. “Any leads on the whole ‘returning to the human world’ front?”

Nia feels Tobias’ eyes on her, and tries not to look too eager at the prospect. “Um…a few? I have some ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Junie hums, clearly sympathetic but not at all upset on her own behalf. “That sucks. Sorry, Nia. Let me know if I can help, okay? Although I don’t know what I could add that you and Will don’t already have covered.”

Nia slowly puts her own food back down. “Junie, you…you really don’t want to go back home, do you?”

Junie shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I mean. I miss some stuff, I guess, but most of my memories are just…blah, you know? And I’m happy here! Even though I’m gonna be a little shrimp forever, I’m much happier here than I ever was as a human.”

Nia sits back, torn. On one hand, it’s not like she can argue with Junie’s feelings. And just because Nia wants to see her family and friends so desperately doesn’t mean everyone does. But to just abandon her old life entirely? Just like that?

“You aren’t worried that somebody will miss you?” Nia can’t help asking.

“Not really. They aren’t my problem anymore.”

What in the world does that mean?

Nia tries not to visibly slump, and starts picking at her food again. She’d been so excited to share her recovered memories with the rookidee, but now she isn’t so sure she wants to. Would Junie even want her to, or would it just be awkward?

“So is that the mission you’re doing south of here? Figuring out human stuff?”

“Um, no. Not really. We are going to see Will, but not about that.”

“What for, then?”

Nia glances at Tobias. He’s munching on a chestnut, and gives Nia a wave of his hand that clearly says it’s Nia’s prerogative how much she wants to share.

“Okay, your little telepathic communication thing is adorable, but what’s with the serious face?” Junie asks. She looks between Nia and Tobias. “You’re not telling me something.”

For a moment, Nia considers brushing off Junie’s concerns. She hadn’t told Xander’s team or Andyn’s team about the whole “world ending” thing, but…well, quite frankly, she doesn’t think Junie will let it go now that she’s picked up on it.

Plus, she’s human like Nia, as much as she apparently doesn’t want to be anymore. She didn’t have a life here before all of this started happening. It feels right, to let her in on the secret too.

Nia puts her food down again. “You’re right. Sorry. We, um…we found something out recently. Something big.”

Junie frowns. “Bad big?”

“Certainly not good big,” Tobias huffs.

“We met Giratina,” Nia says. “He—"

“Wait, back up. Giratina? The scary nightmare creature that Will explicitly told us not to talk to?”

Nia winces. “Yes? He’s, um…actually pretty civil. If a bit of a grouch.”

“So like Tobias, then,” Junie says. She doesn’t even bask in his reaction, adding, “Okay, hold up, start from the beginning. I need the whole story.”

Nia hesitates, but crumbles quickly under Junie’s insistent gaze.

So Nia tells the story yet again, from the moment when Tobias noticed Giratina following them, all the way up to their talk with August when they returned to the guild. She’s getting better at summarizing after telling the story twice before, but Tobias still jumps in occasionally to add any important details that she forgets. Junie is surprisingly quiet for most of it, aside from when she chastises them for being idiots, jumping down into dangerous mines with criminals and meeting up with crazy bugs who want to send them to the distortion world.

Finally, voice raspy and meal still only half-finished, Nia says, “And that’s the gist. This world—the Pokemon world—is basically in danger of falling apart entirely if we don’t do something to stop it. And the human world will go down with it.”

“Nia thinks Will might have some human connections who can help us find Xerneas, so that she can strengthen the barrier,” Tobias adds. “Or fix it afterwards, if it’s predetermined to break. Either way, we don’t have much go to go on, so we’re checking with him just in case.”

Junie’s expression is somber when they finish. She stares long and hard at the dirt, clearly deep in thought. Finally, she sighs and looks up. “Well. That’s a fine pickle. And just when I was getting comfy here, too. I guess we’ll just have to see what Will has to say, right?”

Nia blinks, then echoes the little bird. “We?”

“Well, yeah! I’m coming with you two to Will’s place, of course.” Junie says. “I just got you back. You aren’t ditching me again while you go off to save the world!”

Nia straightens up, heart lifting. “Really?”

Tobias groans. “Really?”

“Yup! You’re stuck with me, lizard-breath.”

“Greeeaaat,” Tobias drawls, using his flames to char a pecha berry cupped in his palms.

“But what about Bolat?” Nia asks.

Junie waves Nia off. “He’ll be fine! He was on his own forever before I showed up. As long as I come back eventually to show him I’m not dead I’m sure he’ll be cool about it. And I can keep training while we head south so I’m not slacking!”

Nia smiles, something in her relaxing. “That’d be great, Junie. We’d be happy to have you.”

“Happy is a strong word,” Tobias says.

Nia glances at him, afraid for a moment that she’d just made a decision for the both of them that he’s genuinely upset about, but he doesn’t actually look bothered by this development. He bites into his berry with a casual movement, his tail flame its usual calm flicker and his expression even. Just their usual banter, then.

“Aw, c’mon! I’m excited to be traveling with you guys again! I guess we should leave right away tomorrow morning since this is kind of time-sensitive, huh? We’ve got mysteries to solve, worlds to save, eldritch horrors to meet—oh! Nia!”

Nia jumps, nearly dropping the peeled chestnut in her hand. “Y-Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt. If you can communicate with Giratina through reflections and he’s on our side now, could we like. Call him?”

Nia stares at Junie, chestnut forgotten. “You want to talk to him? He’s…kinda scary.”

“That’s even better!” Junie says, hopping up excitedly. “It’ll be like we’re trying to summon demons at a sleepover. Wait here!”

Junie darts inside her and Bolat’s home, and Nia looks at Tobias, bewildered.

The charmander shrugs, apparently more or less unphased. “You did suggest we get in touch with him so he knows what we’re up to.”

“I…guess?”

Junie flaps out the front door in an unsteady bob, a small stone bowl barely gripped in her tiny claws. She drops it on the ground in front of Nia, then lands clumsily on the other side.

“There! Will that work? You can use your canteen water, right?”

Okay, guess they’re doing this right now. Nia sighs, once again putting the last of her food aside to grab her canteen and pour an inch of water into the bowl. Sunlight bounces across the water’s surface as it settles. The whole thing is about the size of Nia’s hand, just large enough to see faint reflections of the trees above them.

“Now what?” Junie asks, practically vibrating. “Do we have to chant or something?”

“I don’t actually know,” Nia says, frowning. “We haven’t tried to call him like this before.”

“He can’t be far,” Tobias says, leaning closer to the bowl. “He was following us on the trip over.”

Just as Nia’s about to try calling for Giratina, Junie shouts, “Hey, lord of nightmares! Get your butt over here!”

“Junie!” Nia hisses, wide-eyed.

“What?! You said he’s on your side now!”

“He is, but he’s also a god with a temper!”

“Uh, hey,” Tobias says, pointing. “He’s here.”

Nia looks down, surprised. Sure enough, she can see the faint reflection of Giratina’s silhouette in the surface of the bowl. Just his head, really, the rest of his body likely unable to fit into view.

“Whoa,” Junie breathes, feathers ruffled but expression delighted.

Giratina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if to ask what they want. Nia can practically hear his rapidly thinning patience.

“W-We saw you following us earlier, over the ocean,” Nia explains. “So I thought you were maybe wondering what we were doing? I figured we could give you an update. I-If you’d like.”

“We also wanted to see if we could contact you,” Tobias adds. “Which I guess is a yes.”

Giratina nods, looking back at Nia. Waiting.

She jerks. “O-Oh! Okay. Um. So we’re looking for a friend of mine, a human, who has been gathering other humans. We think he might have an idea of where to find Xerneas, since I know he’s been researching a lot of stuff and talking to a lot of people. So that’s why we’re, uh. Here. And traveling.”

Giratina seems to mull that over for a moment, before nodding his approval.

“Can he not talk?” Junie whispers, loudly.

“He talked to me in his dimension,” Nia says, feeling weirdly rude speaking about Giratina in the third-person when he’s right there. “But I don’t think he can speak to us through reflections?”

“But what if he has something important to tell you?”

Giratina shifts, catching their attention before Nia or Tobias can answer. He brings up a tendril-like wing, the giant talon at its tip settling close to the surface of the reflection and blocking out Giratina himself.

“Does he want you to…touch him? E.T. style?” Junie asks. “Can you even do that?”

Nia frowns, staring at the talon seemingly right on the other side of the water’s surface. “I…don’t know. He did pull me through a reflection in Shivergleam, but I kind of assumed that was like…a special ritual that Edme set up?”

“He did it at the river near the guild too,” Tobias grumbles.

Huh. He’s right. Which means…

Curious, and knowing that the legendary would have been able to kill her easily last time they met but decided not to, Nia lifts her hand and holds it over the water.

“You sure?” Junie asks.

Tobias reaches out and grabs Nia’s free arm, as if to make sure he isn’t left behind this time if she’s yanked through again.

With a deep breath, Nia dips her finger gently into the chilled water, trying not to disturb the reflections on the surface. Sure enough, after an inch or two, she hits not the smooth stone of the bowl’s bottom, but the dulled point of something else, ice-cold.

Giratina.

Nia’s brows raise. Curious, she dips the rest of her hand into the bowl. While she can’t wrap her hand around the sheer size of the claw, it’s undeniable that she has surpassed the depth of the bowl itself. Like a magic trick.

“Whoa,” Junie murmurs again.

Satisfied for now, Nia pulls her hand free, amazed to realize her fur isn’t even wet. She blinks down at the water as it settles. Giratina has pulled away so they can see his face again.

“So when you’re around, you can make any reflection into a portal to the distortion world?” Tobias asks.

The legendary nods.

“Does that only work for Nia? Or for anyone?” Junie asks.

Nia doesn’t know how Giratina does it, but she can practically feel his exasperation through the reflection.

“Oh, r-right. Yes or no questions, Junie.”

“Fine, fine! How about this—can anyone go through a portal you open?”

Giratina nods again.

The three of them sit back as one.

“Huh,” Nia says. “I’m not sure that really changes anything? But I guess it’s good to know that we can check in with you any time if we need to.”

“Could be a helpful escape route in an emergency,” Tobias muses, hand at his chin. “As long as we find a reflection large enough.”

Giratina suddenly jerks, looking off to the side. His eyes narrow. He looks back at them, as if asking if they’re done here. There must be another one of those rumblings in the rift that Nia had experienced while there. A sign of the coming disaster. He probably wants to check it out to make sure it’s nothing more serious.

“I think that’s all we know right now. Um. Thank you for answering?” Nia says, feeling awkward about how exactly she’s supposed to sign off with a legendary.

Giratina nods, then slips out of sight. The reflection of the trees overhead and Nia’s curious face, leant over the bowl, flicker back into sight.

The three of them are quiet for a moment, digesting that experience.

“Okay, so. World-ending terror aside, that was pretty awesome,” Junie says. She hops up, looking all too excited. “We should try to summon more horror monsters before we have to get on the road tomorrow! Bo told me about this Pokémon called Darkrai who gives you nightmares. I don’t think he does it to mess with people, but let’s pretend he does because that’s much scarier.”

Nia can’t help laughing. The tension that had settled over them breaks instantly.

“Darkrai’s a legendary, feather-brain,” Tobias says. “He’s probably already dormant.”

“But he’s the god of nightmares or something! So maybe he’s immune to sleep stuff!”

Nia relaxes and finishes the last few bites of her meal as the two of them start up another silly argument. The exhaustion of the flight and the day’s antics are finally starting to weigh on her, but for at least tonight they can rest here with Junie and Bolat.

Suddenly, with just one more friend at their side, everything ahead doesn’t seem quite as scary.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #skarmory #talonflame #rookidee #braviary #pokemon #tesha writes #tesha draws #pmd seekers of soul

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13as07 · 10 months ago

Text

Patience #3.5

(Jiraiya Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Ibuo]

Requested by: Myself

Word Count: 6,231

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Part 3 from Jiraiya's POV

Sorry it’s so long but not really cause I love writing his prospective

Nicknames/Name Calling: Little One, Sensei, Sweet Girl, Princess, Sweetheart, Obedient Girl, Sir, Sex Addict

Exhibitionism (public sex)

Age Gap/Power Indifference (teacher/student)

Creampie

Spanking

Little rougher domination

Improper use of a hairbrush (Yes, in that way. Still not sorry)

———————————————————————

The whimpers my kunoichi spills out only make the next few days seem even more looming. It's been driving me crazy, knowing I can't treat her like I have been. No random quickies everywhere all the time, no cuddling up in public or drowning her in affection. We're back home now, I have to be at least somewhat professional.

Plus, there's the small hovering doom of talking to Tsunade. I can only imagine the lecture and string of profanity she'll use once I tell her I did - and have been - sleeping with my student. Not to mention the black eye I'm sure I'll get since my old squad mate has a habit of responding with her fists before her words.

Once she does calm down, Tsunade will probably tell me I'm playing with fire, that I'm ruining my kunoichi's future, that I'm injuring my reputation, that I've managed to reach a whole new level of perverted. But it's so worth it.

If I have to I'll give up the shinobi life, I'll retire, I'll focus on writing my books, and my kunoichi can continue living her life like the badass little ninja she is. Or we can both quit and buy a nice little cottage on the outskirts of town with a private hot spring.

My mouth clicks shut, cutting off my Princess's praises long enough to get my thoughts straight before I start them up again. That's a long-term idea. A long-term idea that has no room in our blooming relationship. I haven't even taken the girl on a proper date and I'm already planning my retirement with her. We've been doing stuff so backward it has my thoughts in knots.

"Little One?" I call, dipping my head down long enough to get the words out. I tip my head back up, taking in the sight of my student. She looks so hot, back arched with her pants around her knees as I have her pressed up against the tree. Her hands seem small under mine, another reminder of our size difference. I think my Princess is making me form a size kink.

"Sensei?" She whispers back, glancing at me for a millisecond before they're back in place. My Sweet Girl is focused on the entrance of our home village, the closeness both exciting and terrifying her. It's cute, seeing my student wrestle with herself over how wrong but good the situation feels.

I press kisses behind her ear, matching them to the thrusts I make into her pussy. Every bottom-out I do gets rewarded with a gentle kiss, pulling more pretty noises from my Sweetheart. "We..." I start, my climax coming quicker than I want it to.

I'm worn out already today, courtesy of me stopping and pushing my Sweet Girl against a tree every thirty minutes or so. I keep trying to convince myself it's to get it out of her system, but I'm pretty sure we both know it's to get it out of mine. "We can't..." I try again, stopping when my dick twitches.

My Little One bucks her hips backward, pushing me over the edge way before I'd like. I want to enjoy our last bout of freedom, I want to stay in this moment until I have her skin memories and damn it, I want to last longer than two minutes. "We can't what?" She whispers as if the trees outside the village will voice our sins.

"We can't..." I try again, shoving myself back into my pretty Sweetheart, soaking in the feeling of her wrapped around me, the feeling of her pussy leaking down my balls, the feeling of her, as I fill her cunt again today. Marking my territory in my new favorite way. "Be all over each other," I finally manage to get out, my mind a bit clearer now that I've finished.

"Why not?" My Sweetheart whimpers as I pull out of her.

My Sweet Girl looks beautiful like this. Her legs are spread wide, giving me the best possible view of her pussy. It's pinker than normal, from my overuse of it today. She's gapping, desperately clenching from the new emptiness as I spill out of her, coating her gorgeous thighs in the thick white of my cum. I swear I could spend a whole chapter explaining this view alone, maybe I will.

"It's unprofessional, Sweet Girl," I softly explain, giving into my want and bending forward to scoop myself off her skin. She looks nice coated in my semen but it looks so much better in her. "Besides, I need to talk to Tsunade about... this," I add, thrusting my fingers into her. My Sweetheart might look gorgeous gapping for me but it doesn't mean I like leaving her needy.

She whines as my fingertips toy with her, disappointment in her face. At least this time I know it's from my words and not my seeming inability to keep up with her sex drive. "You're fine, Sweet Girl," I mutter, kissing her shoulder in a failed attempt to muffle my laughter. I love the mess of whines and whimpers my student becomes when she doesn't get her way, and almost every time I can't help but laugh with joy at the sight.

The moment doesn’t last though, the weight of today setting in. God, I'm too attached, way too quickly. The thought of my Little One sleeping alone in her apartment makes my chest ache. She should be sleeping with me, in my house, in my bed. I should be able to roll over and hold her in the middle of the night like I've done for the past few weeks.

The thought is upsetting, it makes me anxious. My hands jump forward to cover her up again. I don't need someone to see my student with her pants down, literally. My attention quickly shifts to repeatedly squeezing her hips to counteract the anxiety weighing on me. My anxiety only seems to grow as I heard her towards the village entrance.

When that doesn't help my anxiety either, I change pace to feeling her skin against mine again. My hands grasp at her, my lips just as hopeless as I brush new kisses into her neck, desperate to press the feeling of her skin into my mind.

"Sensei?" She giggles, starting to silence my anxiety. "You're pretty all over me for it being 'unprofessional'."

"Hush Princess," I whisper, shifting my attention away from her. I scan the entrance, my fingertips dancing over her skin, helping more of my anxiety seep away.

I hate the thought of being away from her. What if something happens and I'm not there to help? When we're on a mission we spend twenty-four-seven together. That's not going to happen now that we're home.

My head dips down, placing another marking on her skin in our last few seconds of true alone time. I cup her pussy too, tapping my fingers against my Sweetheart before I tug away. My temporary goodbye to our very active sex life.

I feel like a schoolboy once again. The anxious attachment young boys experience with their first girlfriends. So distressed, so upset at the thought of being apart from my Sweet Girl. Maybe some time apart won't be too bad, as long as she's safe.

The thought of this being a healthy space makes me feel better and makes it easier to let go of my grasp on her and pull away.

"Sensei? Are you going to ignore me again?" My student asks, distraught covering her face as I pull away. My Sweetheart doesn't like me pulling away, which is evident from her wrapping around my arm. She looks small, wrapped around me like this. She looks even smaller when she squirms from my fingertips brushing over her pussy. I'm definitely developing a size kink.

The distraught she's feeling quickly gets replaced. My kunoichi's mischievous glint fills her eyes as a pout forms on her face, promising a bratty tantrum to follow. "What if I get needy? Then who am I supposed to do?"

I take it back, I don't feel like a schoolboy. I feel pissed off like I'm ready to throw down with any man that dears to glance at her. It's the same anger I had at dinner with Riku, jealousy that I can’t seem to control.

Before I can stop myself, I tug my arm away from her, jumping forward to grip her face. This is another new thing between us. Since my Princess doesn't like my hand around her throat, I've started gripping her face to keep her attention on me.

I snap her head upward, forcing her eye contact with me as I glare down at her. "Don't you dare," I husk out, soaking in the way my Sweetheart's eyes soften. They're round and glazed over, tempting me to break my temporary hardness. "Go ahead, try your little act. See how far that gets you," I continue before dipping my head down, making sure the next sentence stays between the two of us instead of the villagers eavesdropping on the street. "See how empty everyone else makes you feel compared to your Sensei."

My Little One's hands snack up my arm, her fingers clinging to my wrist as her breath picks up. I enjoy the view, the way she seems so eager for me as I pull away from her face. It's cute, her eyes, how easily I got her roaring again, how she tries to pull my hold off her even though she knows it is useless.

"I'm just kidding, Sensei," she whimpers, a whine bubbling in her throat. My student flutters her eyes down, focusing on my fingers clinging to her cheeks.

That only pisses me off more, making me shift her head again. "Joke like that again and I'll beat your ass back into obedience, you understand me?" I mutter, watching for her reaction.

My Sweetheart's thighs rub together, only encouraging my roughness. Her eyes are drowning in lust, tongue almost hanging out of her mouth in a pant. "Yes, Sensei," My Princess says softly, quickly making my dick hard again. I need to talk to Tsunade.

"That's my Sweetheart. Be an Obedient Girl," I praise, debating on kissing her or not as a reward. There are a lot of people out and about though, and I really should bring Tsunade into the loop before I'm public about my relationship, or lack thereof. I need to take my kunoichi on a date.

"Yes, Sensei," she repeats, satisfying me. I rub her cheeks for a second before letting her go.

Date ideas swirl around my head as I continue walking. I shouldn't take her out to eat, we already do that all the time, so it wouldn't be any different. Well, if I take her somewhere fancy but I should probably put a little more effort into it.

My Sweet Girl's hands collide with my back, balling up my shirt once I'm in her grasp. "Sensei, where are we going?" Her sweet voice rings out, silencing my thoughts for a second.

"We have to report to Tsunade, Little One," I answer, slowly my paces so the chance of her tripping goes down.

Her fingers tap against my back, tapping out some melody as she trails after me. "That's boring. Are you going to talk to her while we're there? About us?" She asks, making my anxiety claw back into my chest.

"No," I answer quickly, my prediction of Tsunade reaction rolling around my head. I don't need my student seeing Tsunade hand me my ass.

My Little One clings to my shirt, the material balled in her hands again. "Why not?" She's upset, actually upset and not her whiney 'I'm needy, fuck me' upset. It makes my heart ache. I don't want to disappoint my Sweetheart.

"You don't need to be present during that conversation, Sweet Girl," I answer a laugh following my words. I can only imagine her face while I'm getting my shit rocked. "Don't worry your pretty little mind, I'll talk to her soon, have some patience," I coo, trying to ease over her emotions.

"Promise?" My Little One asks, her voice softly as she clings to my shirt harder.

"Promise."

————————————

My heart seems loud in my ears as I search the hallways for my student. Today's anxiety is a mixture of the speech I've been practicing to confess my situation to Tsunade and because I can't find my Sweetheart.

I left her for ten minutes, only ten minutes, long enough to talk to the Head Anbu. Long enough to fill him in on the new information on the Akatsuki. Ten minutes and she's gone. On the plus note, she can't be in too much trouble. After all the Hokage palace is the most secure place in the village. My Little One can't be getting into much mischief... I think.

I roll over my speech, rehearsing it again so that when I finally talk to Tsunade I have it down. Tsunade who already seems suspicious. Tsunade who seems to have noticed every whine, whimper, and grasp my kunoichi has tried in the past week. Tsunade who asked why my student spends so much time at my house.

Tsunade who I've avoided talking to because she's terrifying. I know I've been putting off our conversation. I know it's disappointing my Sweetheart. I know my Sweet Girl is getting upset from the lack of me, from the lack of sex, the lack of my time and attention, and from the lack of us having a proper relationship. From me sucking at relationships and putting off asking her on a proper date. I need to stop putting stuff off.

"Oh my God. You thought... oh my," my Princess's voice rings out, distress evident in her voice.

My body jerks, panic washing over me at the sound. My pace picks up, scanning the hallways and rooms for her. What situation could she possibly be in? Why couldn’t she just obey me and stay put?

"No!" Someone barks, making me stress even more. "Well not at first but when you said you were training under Jiraiya I just... I wanted to be sure you weren't..." The voice continues, making it easier to figure out where the possible threat to my kunoichi is.

I scurry forward, turning down the hallway I'm pretty sure the voices are coming from. I was right, which is good, but so bad.

Genma, one of Tsunade's guards, is hovering over my kunoichi. My Little One that has her hand down his pants. My Sweet Girl who told me when we got home that if I ignored her, she'd find her wants somewhere else. My student who's looking up at Genma with those big beautiful 'fuck me' eyes that should be looking up at me. My Sweetheart that's enveloped in Genma's frame that doesn't make her seem as small as she seems under me. My Princess and Genma who are making my blood boil.

"I'm not a pervert," Genma continues, pissing me off even more. How can he say that? He has her caged, has her stuck under him, has someone young enough to be his student pressed up against the wall as he humps my Sweetheart like some street mutt.

I know it's hypocritical of me. I've spent the past month sleeping with my Little One, I'm older than both of them, I am known for being a pervert. But she's my student, my kunoichi, my Sweetheart, which means I have dibs. Dibs that I fully use, constantly.

"Could convince me otherwise," I huff, my voice coming out louder than I meant. I can feel my anger seeping off of me, I can feel the heat of it on my face and crawling across my chest.

Despite that, my Little One doesn't seem to notice. "Hi, Sensei!" She calls, shifting out from under Genma's arms, her hand still buried down his pants, which only pisses me off more. "How was your meeting?" She continues, her soft sweetness soaking through the heavy situation.

That upsets me even more. My Sweet Girl is so happy to have my attention, so happy to see me, all because of my lack of affection towards her. I storm down the hallway, Genma getting paler the closer I get and my student getting happier.

Genma jerks away from my student, bowing once I get closer. "Jiraya, Sannin, sir," he shrieks towards the ground. He's as nervous as I'm pissed. It's would funny if I didn't have the image of my kunoichi clinging to him burned into my head.

"Genma," I call back, focus set on my bubbly student. She's all smiles with her usual mischievousness in her eyes. She's happy I caught her. It almost hurts, knowing even though I'm angry my Sweetheart is joyful to have my attention. "My student is too young for you." That's a lie, Genma is a more fitting age gap than her and me, but I'm choosing to ignore that.

"She's only... ten years younger... sir." The sentence snaps my anger back into place, completely counteracting the soothing my student unknowingly started.

My Princess shifts, mirroring me as she shows off her smile. "That's not so bad, Sensei. After all, you're thirty years older than me," she points out, as cocky as ever.

I crouch down, locking eyes with her before I start speaking. "Ya, well, I don't have you pinned to the Hokage Palace wall, rubbing my boner against you."

Somehow her smile grows even more. Her curved mouth opens, a promise to throw a comment about us into the open. I jerk forward, wrapping my hand around my Sweetheart's mouth to cut her off. "You're being a disgraceful shinobi," I hiss out, deepening my glare.

Genma moves, pulling himself out of his bow. "Sannin, sir?"

"Get out of my presence," I hiss, burning my student's cocky face into my mind. She looks cute and inspirational. Maybe I'll put this scene in my new book too.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Genma mumbles before darting away, leaving me alone with my cocky attention hungry student.

My Sweetheart jerks away from me, mouth running as soon as she's free from my grasp. "You know good and well you'd be thrilled to be humping me against the wall too. Or maybe not, since you seem to not be into me anymore."

She's right, about the first part. I'd give anything for a few uninterrupted minutes with her. My skin burns from not being able to feel hers, my fingers are impatient with the yearning to feel her hair running through them, and my balls are so heavy it feels like I'll nut just from her stare.

The second half of my Little One's rant isn't correct, nowhere near it. It ticks my anger even more. Can't she tell how much I want her? Can't my Sweetheart see how desperate I am for every part of her? Hasn't she noticed how much I crave her touch? Her voice? Her eyes? Her laugh? Why can't my pretty kunoichi see how addicted I am to her? How much I adore her sass, her attitude, her personality, her very being?

"Little One," I grumble, terribly failing at hiding my anger that I know truly isn't her fault. I'm upset at the situation I put us in, at the fact I keep putting off talking to Tsunade. "If I had it my way, we'd be locked up in my house for the next week doing nothing but practicing scenarios for my new book," I confess my little fantasy to her as my hand cups her cheeks again. I cling to her face, soaking up the softness of her skin rubbing against mine.

I have thought about it a lot, reenacting scenes from my past books, and recreating situations with her so I can take them in better to be able to describe them perfectly in my next novel. I've been rolling over the plot of my next story, thinking of mirroring it to ours.

My Sweetheart will make a fantastic read, an amazing heroine. I can't help the fact that my recent writings have curved around her, that I'm set on giving her to the inked paper, all to share my small piece of heaven with others that occupy the living realm. It would be sinful not to share her with the world.

"But," I continue, shifting closer to her with the hopes it'll stop my wandering mind. "We have a very important job for our village. I cannot drop everything every time your pussy aches for attention. Stop acting like a spoiled Princess." The words seem harsh, even as I say them, but she pays no attention to them.

My Little One goes straight into her tantrum, further proving to me how little of my longing I share with her. "You haven't paid any attention to me, Jiraya! You said you'd talk to Tsunade but you haven't. It's all your fault we're not having sex, much less anything else. I can live awhile without you in me but you won't give me any undivided attention."

"Oh ya? Is that your issue Sweet Girl?" I mock, my ego completely rubbed from her whines. "Is that why you're acting out? You miss me? You miss my attention? My dick, you sex addict? You miss my little kisses and touches? You miss our dinners alone?"

My Sweetheart wraps herself around my arm again, her fingers clinging to me as those big dewy eyes of hers look up at me. It's tempting, to give away to my jealousy, ball her up under me, fuck her against the wall like Genma so desperately wanted to.

But I can't. She needs to learn there is a time and place. The Hokage palace is neither the right time nor place.

Her fingers dig into me, clinging to my wrist. "Yes," My Sweet Girl whimpers, as pouty as ever. "Like me back, Jiraiya. Pay attention to me. Like me back," the repeated sentence comes out soft, almost a cry as the words tumble from her lips.

Her last sentence rings in my ears, making me feel better about whatever this is. This isn't some fling for my student, it's something she wants. Something she craves just as much as me. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I know I've been busy. I'll make it up to you, I promise," I voice, loosening my fingers.

I tip my head, brushing long-awaited kisses across her face. My Princess feels nice against me, only encouraging my addiction even more.

Despite the attention, she's still huffy. "Sure you will."

"I will," I reiterate, shifting my head closer to her ear. "Because I like you back," I whisper, brushing more kisses across her. "We'll go out tomorrow, okay? A nice dinner all alone, and I'll give you all the attention you want. Just be patient, Sweet Girl." I know it's unfair of me, I know she has been patient, I know. But, events of the day are already in motion and I can't put them off. Not unless I want Tsunade on me.

My kunoichi clings to me tighter, trying to tug my hold off as she whines. "You said that earlier this week. I have been patient. We're not going to get to eat alone, we never do. Hurry up and talk to Tsunade." She gets to be a pouty mess because she's right. We can't go anywhere - much less sit down to eat - without bumping into someone who wants or needs something from me. The life of a famed shinobi and a high-selling author.

"I will. Today. I promise," I mutter, the anxiety of talking to Tsunade already sliding up my spine. I shift my gaze, soaking in the color of her eyes again to help calm myself. "But, tonight I'm going to beat your ass red since you want to be such an unobedient girl," I continue, scanning for her reaction.

From the way my Princess has been reacting recently, she likes it when I'm a little more rugged on occasion. This time isn't any different. Lust pools her eyes as her legs rub together, a tell-all sign that I've turned her on. "Why?" She peeps out, her fake innocence covering her face as she looks up at me.

I can't help but laugh at her little act, at how see-through we both know it is. I dip back down, barely letting our lips touch as I talk. "Why? Because, Little One, you went and acted like you're on the market for anyone to have. You are mine. My student, my kunoichi, mine, and apparently filling up your tight little cunt and marking you up isn't enough proof for you."

My words turn me on just as much as I'm sure they make my Princess brew. Just the thought of my cum dripping out of her pussy is enough to make my dick ache. "You are mine," I say again, watching the way her eyes light up. "Repeat it," I order, desperate to hear her agree. Desperate to know for certain that my Sweetheart does want to be mine.

"I am yours."

I am not a religious man, but I swear to whatever God I can find in the time I have left, I will thank them every day for getting to hear those three little words.

My eyes shoot down, quickly followed by my hand, as I watch my Sweetheart attempt to stimulate herself. She doesn't get to do that, she doesn't get to get off after she's spent the past few minutes teasing me, tempting me.

I grip her inner thigh, tugging her legs apart as I start my next order. "I have to run an errand for Tsunade. You, Sweetheart, are going to go home, strip, and sit on my bed with your head in my pillows and your ass in the air." The thought of my Obedient Girl actually obeying me strains my pants even more.

"You are going to wait, and wait, and wait until I am done. If you even dare to touch yourself, I will overstimulate you until you feel like you can't breathe, am I understood?" It's harsh, like I was before, but I intend to stay true to my words. If my Little One wants to prance around with Genma, she doesn't get to cum on her own. She gets to be reminded of how well I know her body, how easy it is for me to satisfy her, and how quickly I can become too much for her.

"Yes, Sensei," she mumbles, still trying to rub her thighs together. The plushness of her fills my hand, her tissue soaking through my fingers, turning me on even more. I swear this errand and my conversation with Tsunade is going to feel like an eternity.

I litter her lips in soft quick kisses, digging in my pocket for my keys. "There's my Obedient Girl. Use those patience I've taught you," I murmur, giving her my keys as I soak in the feeling of her mouth against mine.

"Yes, Sensei," She repeats a bit louder this time, making the fit Tsunade would throw if I pushed off her errand seem worth it. It's not, I have work to do, I can wait. I can wait. I can wait.

"Sweet Girl," I praise, tilting my head as the words spill out. I deepen our kiss, keeping us connected longer this time. I can't wait. "Go home and wait," I order, pulling away from her beautiful face. I can't walk away, and if she doesn't, I'm going to get one hell of a beating from Tsunade.

My Princess does as she's ordered, playing with my keys as she walks away from me. I stay put, watching the way her hips sway as she walks away. I swear this girl is going to be the death of me.

————————————

The closer to home I get, the more my anxiety seeps out of me. I did it, I told Tsunade about my student and me. She didn’t attack me, she didn’t even yell. All she did was sit there and glare, which somehow was worse than anything else. It means that tomorrow she’s going to have one hell of a reaction. Oh well, that’s tomorrow’s issue.

My balls ache when my front door falls into view. My Sweetheart is waiting for me in there, my Sweetheart that’s about to get her pussy destroyed and her cunt filled. It’s been too long since I’ve left my load in her.

My actions are quick, anticipation fills my balls more than my semen does. It’s a blur, getting into the house and making my way to my bedroom. “Little One?” I call, swinging my bedroom door open.

A groan brews in my throat at the sight of her. She’s laid exactly how I asked her, her head buried in my pillows and her butt in the air. My Princess’s pussy is on display, her wetness glistening and walls clenching for me. “There’s my Obedient Girl,” I coo, walking across the room.

“Welcome home, Sensei. How was your errand?” She asks, knuckles white from clinging to the pillowcase. God damn, I want to shove my dick into her dripping cunt, I want to fuck her until tears coat her face, I want to fill her pussy so much that I’m leaking out of her all through tomorrow.

“It was fine,” I finally answer, eyes still locked on her pulsing cunt. “How has my bedroom been?” I ask, settling on the bed. I run my fingers through her folds, enjoying the warmth and her juices oozing from her.

“Good,” she whimpers, pussy clenching even more from my small touch.

I shift my focus, messing with her hole to see it gap even more for me. I’m a jerk about it, barely pushing my fingertips into her. My focus stays on this spot of her, ways to describe her core running through my head.

After a beat, I tug my fingers further up, focusing my teasing on her clit. “You've been very bratty, Sweetheart. I'm worried my spoiling of you is making you rotten, Princess,” I confess to her despite not actually being that worried about it. I like how bratty she is and how needy she can be. It’s nice having a partner that can keep up with my urges.

My Little One bucks backward, her pussy unsatisfied and upset with my teasing. “I’m not,” she whimpers, his desperately trying to get me to finger her pussy.

“Hush, Little One,” I mutter, smacking her pussy before completely pulling my touch away. I pay attention to how she reacts, partly for her good and partly to describe this scene in my next book. I’ve finally settled on a plot, and beating her ass is going to be the opening chapter. This is going to be the first chapter, her pussy dripping for me and aching even more from the small slap I gave it.

I stand up, off to go find something to spank her with. I could use my hands and watch the way her butt easily fits in my grasp, but if written that scene a hundred times. I need something new, something exciting for my readers.

I settle in front of my desk, shifting stuff around in search of something to use. “Sensei?” My Sweetheart calls, dividing my attention for a second. “What are you doing?” She asks as my eyes settle on my hairbrush. That could work, it could work very well actually.

“I told you, Sweetheart,” I start, heading back towards her. My student has shifted her position, head tucked down to watch me under her pressed-together knees. “I'm going to beat your ass red.”

My eyes jump between her pussy and her face, enjoying the sight of her like this. When my knees collide with the bed, I’m back to action instead of just admiring her. My hand settles in her hair, clinging to her locks as I fix her position. I know I won’t be able to beat her ass if she’s looking at me like that. “Stay like that, Sweet Girl. I don’t need the neighbors hearing you.”

I release her hair, my sights set on the arch of her back. I love how pretty my Princess’s back looks when she’s bent like this. My fingers tumble down, sliding over the bumps and valleys of her spine. I change my mind, I could spend a chapter describing the curves of her back instead of the sight of her pussy.

When I run out of valleys on her back, my attention shifts to her butt. My touches are gentle and soft, toying with her skin to prep it for the spankings it’s going to receive. Once I’m satisfied with my cooing, I focus back on the reasoning for her position. I pull the brush backward before letting it swing down, smacking the plastic of it into her behind.

“Sensei!” My kunoichi squeals, jumping forward from the blooming pain.

My eyes skirt over the blooming pink of her behind, the outline of the brush head stamped into her cheek. “Oh, you’re fine spoiled Princess,” I mutter, scanning her body language, making sure she’s not uncomfortable and that the smack wasn’t too hard. I grip her waist, tugging her back into position.

I go back to calming her skin, toying with the pink skin as I watch the way her pussy clenches from the touch, making sure I’ll be able to describe it perfectly in my rough draft tonight. When I’m satisfied with a description, I turn back to spanking her.

I coat her behind in more spankings, switching between her cheeks as I coat them with pink ovals. It’s intoxicating, the sound of the hard plastic colliding with my student’s skin, the sound of her whines and whimpers, the sight of her pussy clenching.

Her juices drip from her cunt, starting to cost her thighs. “Aw, look at that. You like this, don’t you, Sweetheart?” I tease, landing another smack as the fingers not wrapped around the brush dips into her. “Your pussy is all wet from your spankings,” I continue the mockery, sliding my touch through her pussy. “Let me take care of you, Little One,” I hum out, satisfied with the rest run, though we might have to try again if I struggle with my writing process.

I bend down, sliding my lips over her sore skin as I toy with her, ideas of how to spice up the story tumbling around my head. My eyes flicked to the abandoned brush, an idea forming in my head. I’ve heard stories of women getting off with their hairbrushes, I wonder what that would look like, how my pretty Princess would react.

“Sensei?” My Sweet Girl whines, the sound going straight to my dick. She thrusts backward again, only encouraging the growing boner in my pants.

My fingers wrap around the brush again, tugging it up before I line it to her cunt. “Princess?”

I tip the end of the handle into my Sweetheart, getting her to jump forward in response. “What are you doing?!” She yelps, head snapping down between her legs again.

My student is beautiful, with eyes that enchant me every time I see them. God, I’m addicted to this girl. “You need to learn to listen, Little One,” I start, lining the hairbrush against her again. I tip it back into her, moving slowly just in case. I don’t think it will hurt, but it’s a different plastic than a dildo so I’m still going to be careful. “I told you I wanted to practice scenarios for my new book.”

Her pussy shifts open as I press the plastic further into her. My Sweet Girl’s walls clench around it, trying to sink it further into herself. It doesn’t work though, making me a bit smug. “You’re a pervert,” she mumbles, hips rocking in need.

I give her what she wants, slowly thrusting the brush in and out of her. “I’m not a pervert. I can’t write a scene I haven’t acted out, and you, my Sweet Girl, made it very clear you don’t want me doing my research on other women. So, that leaves you.” It’s an honest observation, even from before we were screwing. It’s gotten worse since we started sleeping together, my kunoichi’s jealousy being just as bad as mine.

My eyes drop at the same time my hand does. I snake it between her legs, quick to find her neglected clit. It doesn’t take long for my Little One to come undone. “Sensei,” she whines, her pussy clinging to the brush as she coats it with her cum.

“Princess,” I call back, dipping my head down. I go straight to licking up her mess, enjoying my fix of her as I occasionally brush a kiss or two against her thighs. “This will make a wonderful chapter for my book,” I mutter, thrusting the handle of the brush into her again. I need to make her orgasm with it once more, just to be sure I can describe the situation perfectly. What an obedient student I have, one that’s perfect for my research.

———————————————————————

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden smut #jiraiya #jiraiya oneshot #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya smut

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ugh-yoongi · 10 months ago

Note

Jewel, I know your requests are closed but I desperately need to hear your thoughts on who in BTS would do this: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-prompt-s/739417828719034368/you-a-powerful-demoness-have-just-been-summoned

and why is it Namjoon (the potential for crack with this 148 IQ man who is also way more innocent than we think acc to one park jimin just takes me out)

i'm so sorry it took me so long to finish and post this but thank you so much for sending it bc i have been cackling about this scenario ever since.

the prompt: you, a powerful demoness, have just been summoned to earth. this man, this human, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days so his parents will get off his back about it.

the gang summons a demon

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: supernatural au; crack warnings: reader is a demon and engages in demon behavior, swearing, namjoon makes mention of not being straight, heteronormative parental expectations, jk learns about arcane things on tumblr (which is not an original idea; i read a fic ages ago where taekook are tumblr witches but i cannot find it, so credit to that author or whoever came up with it first), unedited so any mistakes are mine. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 2k

It’s been years since you’ve been to Earth—even longer since you’ve been to South Korea.

“I haven’t been here since 1910,” you say, staring at the gobsmacked man across from you. He’s tall, with tanned skin and a bleached buzz cut; a smattering of tattoos dotting his toned arms—whites and rich hues of blue, imitations of some kind of ceramic art, you think; a golden hoop through his nose; cheeks with dimples so deep you’re sure they’ll crater. “People here definitely didn’t look like you back then, so I’m going to assume we’re pretty far into the future.”

“It’s 2024,” he answers, seemingly still a little dazed. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. Normally it’s nice to be looked at like that, with all the reverence and awe you deserve, but Earth is not your favorite place to be. Doesn’t even crack the top fifty, if you’re being honest. “Did you say 1910? As in the beginning of the—”

You sigh. “Uh-huh. Hey, if you wouldn’t mind hurrying this up, I’ve got things to do.” The man continues staring. Could be a trick of the light, but you think he’s turning paler by the second.

Minutes tick by. Nothing but silence.

“Are you even listening to me?” you snarl, quickly losing patience you were never given. “I said I’ve got shit to do. My schedule’s booked solid for the next eight centuries, so I really don’t have time to be dilly-dallying in mundane human affairs. Your problems are always so boring.”

More silence.

Which is irksome, sure, but what’s worse is this stupid fucking circle you’re trapped in. Drawn crudely on the floor of (seemingly) this human man’s actual apartment, which would’ve told you all you’d needed to know, if you’d taken ten seconds to take in your surroundings upon first being summoned. This place has got books stacked floor to ceiling in every available inch of space, but you’re certain this person is a fucking idiot.

“Hello?”

The man shakes his head. “Oh, sorry, I just—I’m Namjoon? Kim Namjoon.”

“I don’t care.”

“Right, right.” He sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you’re probably wondering why I summoned you here today”—you roll your eyes—“and, uh.” Namjoon scratches at the back of his neck, anxiety oozing from every pore on his body. Definitely paler. “I am too, to be honest.”

“You what—”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon hurriedly adds, all of that anxiety shifting quickly into pure panic. “It’s just—it was a joke! Mostly! Jeongguk said it as a joke, because everything he says is a joke, and I should’ve known that, but—I don’t know! I’ve tried everything else, and the longer its gone on the more desperate I’ve become, and suddenly what Jeongguk said as a joke didn’t sound so much like a joke anymore! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it’d actually work!”

It takes your brain a minute to translate and decipher the useless slush that just came out of his mouth, but when it does… oh, when it does, you feel absolutely murderous. “You summoned me as a joke?”

Namjoon must see it, too. There’s no way you’re looking cool, calm, and collected right now, because you’ve seen the faces of others that have witnessed your wrath, and they were almost always on the brink of (if not outright) shitting their pants. This stupid, clueless human in front of you doesn’t appear to be faring much better.

So you continue, just to watch him squirm. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Yes?”

“And who am I?”

He holds up his pointer finger and digs through the back pocket of his jeans. Pulls out a crumbled scrap of paper, nearly soiled from ass sweat and time, and his eyes squint as he tries to read it. “I—well, it’s probably not an accurate translation, you know, since—”

“What does that piece of parchment say, Kim Namjoon?”

“Nothing,” he lies. “I can’t read it anyway, so… a-haaa…”

Patience officially worn thin, you snap your fingers, delighting in the startled shriek that escapes him as the paper goes up in a plume of smoke. “I am going to give you one chance to be honest with me,” you explain slowly, leveling him with a look. “Who do you think I am, and why am I here?”

Namjoon pales further. Looks like he’s trying to melt right through the floor into a puddle of useless slush, and you’d be more than willing to speed up the process if it weren’t for this god forsaken demon trap.

“Can I—can I sit down for this?”

Kim Namjoon, you learn, has a friend named Jeon Jeongguk.

Jeon Jeongguk, you also come to learn, has learned magic from a website called Tumblr.

“There, uh. There are definitely blogs for that sort of thing,” Namjoon explains, tattooed fingers scratching at the back of his neck. He takes a very quick glance at you. “Clearly not very accurate ones.”

You hum. “That’s the only smart thing I’ve heard you say since I showed up in this shithole.”

Namjoon gawks. “Hey, my apartment isn’t a shithole! It’s the best I could afford, alright? There was just an article in The Business Times about how archaic of a system jeonse is—”

“Uh-huh. And this… website?”

Namjoon goes red. Coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, yeah. I’m gonna be honest with you—”

“I already said that—”

“—my parents are coming to visit from Ilsan in a few days and I need a girlfriend.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. Long enough to replace the rug that had been pulled from under you, because you’re pretty sure you heard this human man allude to having summoned you so you can pretend to be his girlfriend.

All things considered, you’re impressed by how calm you are. This is not a trait most demons have, you especially, and it makes you nostalgic for the days you used to rip men apart limb by limb for less.

“Are you insane?” you ask simply.

“In my defense,” he explains around a wince, “Jeongguk said it was a love spell.”

“A love spell.” Namjoon nods. “And you wound up summoning a demon.”

“It… appears I may have done that, yes.”

“And you want a demon to meet your parents?”

“I mean… when in Rome, right?”

“I’ve committed at least four-hundred and sixty-seven separate atrocities there, so no, probably not when in Rome.”

Namjoon’s jaw drops. He tucks his knees closer to his chest. “Christ, that’s a lot. How did you have the time?”

“I’m immortal,” you deadpan.

“Right, right. Anyway, to answer your question: yes.”

Your eyes narrow. “How bad are your parents that you’d want me to meet them?”

“They’re fine, mostly. I just… am not what they expected in a son? Like, I have the hair and the tattoos and I dropped out of my engineering program in university to pursue art and poetry, so the least I could do is find a wife and settle down and give them grandchildren, but I don’t even know if I want to ever settle down. I’m also not… heterosexual? Entirely? Do you see that a lot—”

You sigh. “Misconception. Not to launch you into some kind of existential crisis, but the gods really don’t give a shit who you humans sleep with.”

“Gods? As in plural?” You snap your fingers. Namjoon’s fingers immediately go to his temples. “Damn, I have a really bad migraine all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, that was me.”

“What’d you do?”

“Made you forget something.”

“Oh. What’d I forget?” It takes a second. “Oh, right, yeah. Um. What was the last thing I said?”

“Your parents wanted you to be an engineer and have a ton of kids but you like art and also not-women, sometimes.”

He flushes again. “I—yes.”

You sigh, arms crossed over your chest. All you want to do is sit down, or open a window. This apartment smells far too strongly of patchouli. “Look, I haven’t been to this place in a long time, but surely you aren’t undesirable by your society’s standards.”

“Are you saying I’m attractive?”

You scowl. “No. I’m saying there had to have been easier ways of doing this, and also can you open a window?”

“It’s February.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It’s really cold outside.”

“I’m literally from Hell. Go put on a sweater, then.”

With a roll of his eyes, Namjoon stands and moves to the window. Cracks it open a millimeter, just enough for the cold to seep in, before he’s stalking off toward—you’re assuming—his bedroom. You think he’s shoving a garment over his head when he calls out, “You know, you’re really fucking bossy for someone stuck in a trap.”

You vow to kill him as soon as you’re free.

It isn’t often you’re held hostage.

Usually you can spot a trick coming a thousand miles away, but since Namjoon hadn’t meant to summon you at all, you’d been caught unawares. Doomed to be stuck in a demon trap, just like he’d said, which meant you didn’t have a ton of bargaining power.

At least that’s what you’re telling yourself, because as you sit across from Namjoon’s parents at some fancy restaurant, you aren’t convinced he isn’t a crossroads demon himself.

“So,” his mother begins, turning her attention to you, “what do you do for work?”

Namjoon elbows you beneath the table, giving you a silent warning to stick to the script. You’re only here under threat of force—because Jeongguk had stopped by Namjoon’s apartment, saw you in the summoning circle, and nearly fainted before going back to Tumblr to find a binding spell.

Except that one wasn’t great, either, because it only bound you and Namjoon together for three days instead of forever. And, as penance for all the chaos you’ve sown across the universe, Namjoon’s parents’ visit fell within that time frame, so here you are.

Out to dinner. With humans.

You’re pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.

You’re in for the most embarrassing ribbing of your existence once you’re home.

“I work with idols,” you respond, as convincingly as possible, because Namjoon had thought it’d be really funny. Get it? he’d said. Like false idols? You hadn’t laughed. “It’s very secretive, of course, but—”

You don’t finish your thought, because Namjoon’s mother looks delighted: face lit up with mirth, smile blinding, eyes half-lidded under the weight of her happiness. “Oh, how exciting! Has he told you he used to do performances to old H.O.T songs? Namjoonie, what was that one song you liked—”

“Eomma, please—”

“Wasn’t it ‘Candy’?” Namjoon’s dad offers from behind his menu. It’s the first thing he’s said all evening.

Namjoon whimpers, foregoing all social decorum and lectures on posture to sink further in his chair.

You do not, under any circumstances, feel a hint of fondness.

(Which dissipates not even twenty-four hours later.

“The blog was deleted,” Jeongguk says, eyes wide as saucers. “I—the blog is gone, I don’t know how to—”

“What do you mean the blog is gone?” The poor kid is overcome with panic and fear, tries to stutter out a response that makes no sense to you at all through his sobs. “Jeon Jeongguk, what do you mean the blog is gone?”

“I—it’s—I had it bookmarked, I swear! Once the binding spell wore off I was gonna send it to Namjoon hyung so he could send you back, but the blog is gone so the post is gone, too. I don’t—what do I even search for—oh my god, please don’t kill me, I think I’m having a panic attack, I’m gonna—”

And then this human man vomits all over your feet. Namjoon sighs as he goes to fetch a bucket, and you think it’ll be a miracle if any of these people—yourself included—live to see the end of the week.)

#namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel writes #jewel answers

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bunnyreaper · 1 year ago

Text

dark side

pairing - simon riley/ghost x f!reader wc - 3k warnings - power dynamics, double life, deception, friends with benefits, unrealised feelings, 18+ for implied sexual content notes - first cod fic, lets gooooo. read on ao3!!

Ghost.

The only name of his you really know—the name you've moaned out in ecstasy so many times that saying anything else is almost foreign. You've traced your fingers over familiar scars and mapped out back dimples with your touch, while his own touch carves itself into you.

And yet, if anyone asked you if you really knew Ghost, you're not sure that you'd have an answer.

You have his body, and even then only part of it—but even that vulnerability is more than most would ever have the privilege of getting.

Simon.

Rarely ever sees the light of day—freckled cheeks having always been shielded from the radiance of your sunlight, hidden from view. One time, just the once, he indulged you just a little. With a makeshift blindfold wrapped around your eyes, he let you feel—let himself feel.

You mapped out his features and felt the plush of his lips with something other than your own. Traced more scars, finally thread your fingers in his hair, right down at the roots. You started to wonder if sight is even worth having as a sense after all. If only you kept your eyes shut forever, you'd get to have him like this.

Ghost came into the rec room, flopped down next to you on the couch, and hasn't said a word since.

The shitty reality show you're watching continues to play, though your attention is no longer on the TV. The contestants bicker melodramatically as they complete their task, and you expect some cutting comment about the show from the man beside you, but it never comes. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest as his dark eyes seem to see through the screen.

Ghost being quiet is something you're used to—on missions and around the base in general, or for those few moments after he's fucking ruined you and neither of you feel the need to fill the silence. But this kind of silence, him taking up space beside you for no other reason than he can, and he seemingly wants to, is entirely foreign.

Not that you'd question it.

The last mission was rough, pulling at the threads of your already fraying sanity. The night you returned was filled with Ghost fucking you so hard, if you closed your eyes and focused, you could probably still feel the soreness of your cunt even now, or remember the harsh tugs at the roots of your hair.

You can count on one hand the words you've exchanged outside of sex in the past week—and it seems nothing will change about that today. But he's here, beside you, in a way he usually never is. Sitting perfectly still, looking dangerously calm. And you're not quite sure if you should break the silence—but before you can make a decision, he seems to make it for the both of you.

"What the fuck are they playing at?"

You're about to explain the premise of the show when he continues talking.

"Fucking rookie behaviour. I mean, I know that's the point of the show but come the fuck on." Ghost isn't a man of many words, but especially not over some silly reality show, and never in such a casual circumstance.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't taken aback—stunned at the way he's fallen into this like it's something comfortable and routine, and not like it's the first time the two of you have ever just hung out without clashing lips and bared skin.

"And them two? Pair of fucking poser tossers."

You can't help but laugh. While the hosts were SAS or SBS too, Ghost clearly didn't take too kindly to them.You're torn between letting him continue and seeing where his rant is going, and interjecting with your question—yet curiosity wins out. "You met them?"

Ghost huffs, wrapping his arms across his chest. "Yeah, couldn't stand the pair of pricks."

He falls back into his usual silence, but his posture is stiff and something festering is rolling off him in waves. Despite being the only glimpse of his face, his eyes usually betray nothing. Since getting to know him a little more, since fucking him every chance the two of you can get, you've learned to read the little sparks of emotion within.

It's easy to see now—the mission is still weighing down on him.

A moment of arrogance from a member of another unit temporarily under Ghost's command, one moment, and the whole mission went to shit. The target escaped, and Ghost was one of the few on that team making it out without being riddled with a bullet or two.

"Can't stop thinking about that arrogant, incompetent fucker."

You don't need him to speak to know he feels responsible, feels a sense of guilt weighing down on him as several men's lives sway in the balance while he got out unscathed. You'd felt his swirling rage of emotions all throughout the week as he took it out on your body—now is the only time he's verbalised even a hint of the root of it all. The first time he's ever really shown any vulnerability just for you.

The air feels different, though maybe that's just for you, as your fingers itch to reach out to him and comfort him with your touch. Yet, tenderness isn't what you usually share.

"Yeah, I heard he's being discharged over the cock-up." You offer, though you know Ghost will know more about the disciplinary machinations than you do—he's probably been fighting for that discharge all week.

"As he fucking should." He huffs, his eyes harden, and then the brief moment of openness is gone. "Maybe if he gets lucky, this show might have him on."

You break the tense silence with a barked laugh, always amused by your lieutenant's dry humour. "I don't know, they might be pricks on this, but at least they're good-looking. He doesn't stand a chance."

"You have shit taste in men." Ghost mumbles, clearly disgusted by your comment.

You fix him with a look, as you both know your taste in men is Ghost, more so than he even realises. He returns your look with a glare.

"My point stands."

A smile tugs at your lips that you can't stop, knowing that even if Ghost thinks your taste in men is awful, he isn't really complaining. "Whatever you say, LT."

He holds your gaze before his eyes flicker down to your lips and return with a burning behind them. "My room tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod, already suspecting you'd be spending the night pinned beneath him.

You expect him to stand and leave, his question having an air of formality to it, and yet he remains, collapsing back into his concentrated silence as he watches the show alongside you.

The only sound from him is the occasional derisive scoff, meanwhile, you struggle to breathe as you feel the warmth of his thigh settles into yours.

It's intimate, and it's fucking strange for the two of you—then again, this whole moment has been a break from your usual carnal routine. You take a deep breath as you forgive yourself for indulging in it, in letting your more tender feelings bubble to the surface, just this one.

Simon stares at the double doors before him, so viciously he could burn holes through them with just his gaze.

He doesn't know why he's doing it, what crazy compulsion drove him to do any of what led him to stand here right now, contemplating going inside, taking a seat and even just being present in the room. Even more so, what compelled him to venture outside, maskless and vulnerable.

Bile rises in his throat, as his chest begins to heave and a gnawing at the back of his mind commands him to leave. When he hears sudden footsteps behind him, it takes everything within him to not spring into action.

The figure appears beside him cautiously, like he's acutely aware of the thoughts churning away in Simon's head. A quick glance at the man shows his lanyard and his welcoming eyes—the head doctor, then.

The kind-eyed man greets Simon in a softly spoken voice that only sows a seed of discontent within him, something about the uttered introduction and the 'haven't seen you around, will you be joining us?' makes Simon's fist clench.

This was a mistake, he knows that, and yet as fucking Richard, holds open the door for him, something shifts.

His eyes land on you—perched on one of the chairs and dressed in civvies, with a superficial smile on your face. He would know what a real one of yours looks like, but would never admit that he thinks of such a thing when his eyes flick shut.

He moves without thinking, not sure what the fuck is going to come of this, and yet unable to escape. He takes a seat on one of the few remaining chairs, directly across from you, and you seem to catch sight of him in your peripheral.

When his eyes meet yours, a feral beast of a feeling claws at his chest, and multiples tenfold when he sees no hint of recognition within your gaze. You offer him a warm smile anyway, that he appreciates, even if he can't return.

You, on the other hand, would be lying if you said you weren't intrigued. All the faces in the room you've seen at least once before, apart from him. Fresh blood, clearly military too, though in these parts and with the purpose of the group, it's hardly out of the ordinary. Offering him your best attempt at a welcoming smile, you try to place him, but come up short—you avert your eyes when you realise you're staring.

And then everyone's attention is being gathered, and the session gets underway. After his standard welcome, Richard invites the newbie to introduce himself to the room.

The man only shakes his head wordlessly, and again, it's nothing out of the ordinary. Geoffrey, two seats to your left, didn't say anything for almost 3 months. He's the longest holdout by far, but he never stopped coming back.

You wonder how this man will compare—the darkness of his eyes speaks of the locked-up torment within.

"In that case..." Richard expertly diverts the attention away from the stranger, knowing better than to push. "Would anyone like to start us off by telling the group about their week?"

The room falls silent, as no one ever wants to be the first to open up. A few hopefully eyes fall to you, but his are the most notable—they're almost...searching.

"I'll go." You take a moment to gather yourself, a hint of nerves washing over you.

"My week was... a lot of numbness. Came into the week crashing and burning, but yesterday was a good day. Only good one of the week, though, I'd say."

Ghost had stayed until dinner time rolled around, wordlessly watching alongside you, not retreating from the way your warmth seeped into each other. You wonder if your scent had invaded his senses like his had yours—if it had distracted him from the TV as his had you.

"Nights are hard, days are hard."

That night, he wasn't as vicious as he usually was, and had been throughout the preceding week. There was less brutality to his actions, less slapping and biting, and spitting—but while he sacrificed the violence, he didn't sacrifice the intensity. He worked you hard, edging you until you cried, fucking you until you couldn't scream anymore. His cock made its home in your tight, wet hole—claiming it over and over again, far beyond what was needed.

There were moments he would flip you on your back, throw your legs over his shoulders and press into you until you became one. His eyes screamed something you couldn't recognise, and didn't leave yours until the intensity proved too much for both of you, and he'd change position just to prolong his time inside you.

And then when it was all over, he spoke.

"Fuck, I needed that."

And the words sent you reeling as he disappeared into the night.

"I'm trying to be kinder to myself, I guess. Trying to forgive myself for the way I choose to cope... for the indulgences I take."

"And how's that?" Robert asks, encouraging you to share with the group.

You swallow, your eyes flickering to various members of the group, who look upon you kindly—and then to the stranger. His gaze is unwavering, and it seems he's hanging on your response.

"Sex. The nasty kind, hate fucking really, but it's... cathartic." You speak, not looking away from the intense stare. The disgust or shock you expect in response doesn't come, but you find you can't take the look in his eyes any longer.

You wish someone would interrupt you, and tell you it's inappropriate, but nobody does. "And I suppose, who am I really hurting? The worst I'm ever left with is some bruises, a love bite, or the same emptiness that I went in with anyway."

Though most nights that emptiness is fucked out of you. The nights when Ghost comes and uses you are the nights you sleep the soundest, your brain too exhausted to conjure up the terrors that usually come.

You look down, fiddling with yourself as you continue to speak your stream of thoughts. "I think it helps both of us really, in our own fucked up way, but neither of us is really wired right anyway."

I wonder what they all make of that. I wonder what he makes of that.

You cough, dispelling the lump in your throat, and will yourself to finish your little speech. "But yeah, a lot of uh, sessions this week. Took my mind off of things for a bit. Small victories, I suppose."

Robert speaks without missing a beat, and at least has the decency to not sound scandalised. You suppose it's nothing he hasn't heard before. "Thanks for sharing. Anyone else?"

Someone begins to speak, but the next story is lost on you, as you drift off again into your thoughts and try not to meet the eyes of the man across the room.

The next thing you know, the session is over, and the tea and coffee station set up at the back of the hall is calling your name. The tea is shit, the coffee worse, and the biscuit selection is slim, but it at least helps a little with the post-exposing-deep-parts-of-your-soul nerves.

You feel his presence before you see him. He's the largest man in the room, the one with the most formidable aura, and yet he's taking a step forward and eyeing the plain digestives with a pissy glare. And then your gazes connect again, and you hate that you're thinking about how much prettier he is up close—even if you can't look directly at him for too long before your cheeks start to flush.

"Yes, the biscuits are always shit, if you're wondering. Wouldn't blame you if you cut and run and never come back."

At that, he scoffs out the tiniest laugh—one you might have missed if you weren't paying such close attention to him out of the corner of your eye. "Yeah?" His voice is deep, and the sentence is so short that such a descriptor is the only thing you can come up with. Deep, gruff.

Not perturbed by the shortness of his words, you pay attention to the vague hint of interest in his tone, and find more words tumbling out of you. "Yeah. You sit through an hour of people's shit, and they don't even fork out for the chocolate-covered ones, it's like they want us to stay mental." You joke, and again, there's that tiny huff.

"Bastards."

You spare him a glance as you grab one of the styrofoam cups from the stack, as you expect him to do the same.

He doesn't—he just watches. He doesn't offer anything more in the way of conversation either, but there's something about his demeanor that suggests the vague sense of company is enjoyable to him somehow anyway.

At least he said something here, even if he didn't in the group.

"Sorry about you hearing that, by the way, never really talked about that stuff before. Trial by awkward fire, I suppose." You shrug, spooning sugar into your cup.

"S'fine." He mumbles, again with the short sentences and nothing more.

He's strange, quiet, and clearly, there's a lot more bubbling beneath the surface. You've never been one to back down from a challenge and not one to turn away from a man who won't reveal his hand too soon—you're used to Ghost after all, and no one could be more closed off than him.

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You look at him once more, offering your hand in a friendly gesture.

Unbeknownst to you, everything inside him is screaming. Simon didn't think he'd even get this far before you cottoned on, freaked the fuck out and rightfully made a fuss. He didn't think he'd have these moments where he would just get to be Simon, for the first time in a long time. His brain urges him to say the words on the tip of his tongue. It's me, Ghost.

But they don't come. Instead, he takes your hand, trying hard to shake it like he wants to grab on and never let go.

"Simon." He offers, eyes boring down into yours.

And that's when the recognition flares within you.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader

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besthimbomachine · 1 year ago

Text

my love when it counted. 09

summary: With Wrestle Kingdom done both you and Kenny return to your daily lives. Now no longer in a cold war with each other backstage you both grow closer, becoming friends getting used to each other's presence as part of your routines. So, when Kenny's injuries flare back up, forcing him out of the ring again, you use a match close to his home as your chance to drop by for a visit. pairing: kenny omega x reader word count: 8424 warning: the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, smut (oral male receiving) kenny said ps5 and chill but he got much more than just chill. so, as per usual, I had to break this chapter in two, so today's chapter is half plot half smut, chapter 10 will be mostly smut. but it's a good thing it means I have more freedom to make the smut better and to put in a little scene after the smut I was thinking of cutting off. fun fact is this chapter is kinda based on experience seeing as I started hooking up with my boyfriend when I dropped by his home one day to watch anime. it wasn't the first time I went there, but it was the first time we got a bit high alone together.

09.

The days following Wrestle Kingdom and that fateful trip to Japan proceeded slowly, almost as if nothing had happened. Kenny tried hard to convince himself nothing did, fighting to forget your words, reminding himself constantly that you were drunk and probably wouldn’t even remember them. Different from your previous flight, for your trip back you weren’t on the same plane as Kenny. He was left spending the long hours of the flight with his own thoughts, and he found himself missing your presence, and worrying about how he knew you didn’t like such long trips by plane. You were like a ghost in his mind, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of your presence.

Just as he landed at the airport after his flight, Kenny was surprised to find a message from you on his phone. Your trip had been just a couple of hours shorter than his, so you were already at home, checking up to see how he was doing. The two of you weren’t in the same hotel, and both of your flights had been in the morning, so you didn’t really have much of a chance to see each other after the party. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, seeing the message brought a warmth to his heart, smile spreading from ear to ear. He told himself it was foolish to let such a small thing bring so much joy to his heart, but the damn organ refused to listen.

You two keep in touch after the trip, and in a couple of days you tell him that the doctor had decided to still keep you two weeks away after your return to the US. Though Kenny was happy to see you rest and heal, at the end of these two weeks he couldn’t hide from himself how much he had been missing you. The last time you had both been in a show together was before the Christmas party - back when you couldn’t even look each other in the eye. In a way, this made things seem somewhat unreal for Kenny, like the past few weeks had been a dream, like the next time he saw you backstage it would all be back to what it was before.

But his fears never materialize. When the time comes and you two meet again at a show, reality finally crashes down upon him, and for the first time Kenny gets to watch one of your matches without hiding in some lost corner backstage. Seeing you back was beautiful, your power and ferocity in full display, like a storm crashing with thunderous force. An experience made even better now that he could finally go and congratulate you after the match. Finally free to bask in the light you shone.

With time, Kenny started to get more at ease in your presence. You’d ride with them to the airport and hotel, seeing as you usually took the exact same flight as Nick and Matt, often eating with them after shows, and at times you’d have the hotel breakfast with them too. On some weeks, you’d spend the night before the show with them, though you were usually doing something with one of the girls. It was weird, after so many years having you around like this, but it was a type of weird he could get used to.

Outside the shows you kept in touch with him too, at the start it was just messages, but soon enough you’d be playing games together when you had free time. He had almost forgotten that part, the small things that brought him joy, the simple things you did together for fun all these years ago. He had always liked playing games with you, whichever one you chose - and he had missed it, god, in those awful first days he missed these things the most. To have this back now, even if things weren’t the same, was a gift he never imagined he’d get.

As the days went you started growing closer, all the shared interests and personality quirks that had brought you together before now bringing you into a friendship Kenny felt lucky to have. Though, he couldn’t deny, sometimes in the dark of the night, when he sat alone in his room, that friendship still brought a bittersweet pang to his heart. Like the memory of a taste that stubbornly lingers on his lips. One that he could suppress at most times, but that came crashing down on others with the power of a tidal wave.

There were some days when Nick and Matt wouldn’t have breakfast with him at the hotel, but you still did anyway. Some days when you’d spend the night before a show with him, going out to eat or playing games together. There were even some days when you’d let him be the one to help you prepare for a match, in these few rare days he’d feel like he could touch the sun and get away unburnt. Though his heart still knew the weight it carried, dragging him back to the ground whenever he got to see Adam being the one helping you with that. It hurt, but Kenny knew he had to push that pain back.

So despite the weight of his feelings and the way he felt his heart falter near you, he enjoyed what he had. The hotel breakfasts and car rides together. The joys you shared over video games and eating out. Laughing together again, congratulating you after a win and offering support after a loss, and getting the same things from you. And there were even times when you were together outside of work. Whenever Matt or Nick came to visit Kenny at his home, sometimes they’d bring you, since you lived so close to them. He had so much now that he never imagined he ever could have. Then why did his heart still insist on wanting more?

And as the weeks turned into months, passing slowly by him, Kenny learned to focus on just cherishing what he could have while suppressing his true feelings for you. Suppressing the burn in his mind when he saw Adam around you, and the pain in his chest that had the annoying habit of always coming back up. And it worked - well enough at least - you two working together and spending time together without problems. There was a sense of peace there, one Kenny had yearned for so long that not even his damn heart could take away.

Over the months, spending time around you during the shows had become a routine for Kenny, one that even without noticing he had gotten attached to. So, when his back injuries flared up again and he was forced to spend time at home, already in the first few days he found himself yearning for your presence. His worries about the injuries and the pain they caused was bad enough, but there was also this weird aching emptiness in not being near you, not having your presence around, even if just a little. It was a cruel joke his hopeless heart was playing on him.

The one thing Kenny wasn’t expecting, however, was for you to be booked for a show that would be happening near his home. He first learned about that from you, and when he saw the message, he wished he could make time move faster. The days seeming to drag on slowly around him. He planned to be there, at the show, to at least see you for a bit and watch your match. Though, as the day came closer, he got a message from you, saying you, Nick and Matt were planning on arriving there a day before everyone, so they could spend some time with Kenny. That was a welcomed surprise, one that warmed his heart in these troubling moments.

But it wasn’t the only surprise. The day before your flight, he got a call from Matt, who apologized continuously after telling Kenny that he and Nick had some problems to solve and wouldn’t be able to take the flight earlier, but that he had urged you to go at least. From Nick, all he got was a one sentence text saying he was sorry they weren’t gonna be able to show up at his house with you. Then immediately followed up with one single line. ‘She’s still going, tho’. So when you showed up at his door alone, it wasn’t a surprise, but fuck, Kenny’s heart still jumped the same way.

Part of you wanted to get angry when Matt and Nick bailed on you, but you couldn’t blame them for problems outside their control, and you knew they wouldn’t have given up so close to the flight without a good reason. Nick was still kind enough to find time to drive you to the airport, and pretty quickly you had arrived at your destination, passing by the hotel to leave your things before you could head out to Kenny’s place. Though, you couldn’t help but remember that the last time you visited the place, you were drunk and humiliated by your own stupid decisions. Just thinking about that brought you a headache - but you couldn’t deny that despite everything, that terrible night ended up serving a good purpose.

You got to Kenny’s home early in the afternoon, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt two sizes too large, carrying enough food for about four people - or in this case, you and him. Sure, if Matt and Nick had been here you’d have dressed a bit better, if anything just to avoid Matt’s surprisingly powerful judgmental stare. But they weren’t, so you were free to wear lazy clothes. Besides, Kenny, and his home, had already seen you at your worst - drunk and defeated - so in hindsight he probably wouldn’t care. The plan was to head over there, eat whatever junk food you’d picked up on your way, watch a movie, play whatever new game he had and head back to the hotel before it got too late. Not really some special occasion.

When you got there you were happy to see Kenny doing better, while you were eating he told you he had a check-up for later that week, and he was expecting the doctor to give him the ok to go back to wrestling. This was fantastic news, not only because you had felt Kenny’s absence backstage, but also because you knew the pain and anxiety of having old injuries flaring up. Every now and again you’d feel the pain returning to the spot in your spine where you had the surgery, and every time it happened you had to face the reality that your body had a limit, one you’d have to face. But while you had made peace with that, you weren’t quite so sure if Kenny had come around to that just yet.

As the afternoon went on, things moved with a tranquility and ease that brought a much needed peace to Kenny’s anxious mind. Being alone in that house had been almost driving him mad as much as the injury itself - he did have plenty of contact with people through other means, but he missed having someone around. And having you around was even better. Sure, the minute he saw you outside the door his heart skipped a beat, you were beautiful, and your smile was brighter than the sun, melting his heavy heart in the span of a second. But it didn’t take long for your presence to seem like it always belonged there, just like it had back on that night after the Christmas party.

You had brought food - and a couple of beers for yourself - so you two ate together, chatting along as you did so. While you ate, you asked him about his injury, seeming genuinely worried about Kenny’s health. Which, he wouldn’t deny, warmed his chest to no end. When he told you he would probably get an ok to return to the ring by next week, he could have sworn your smile seemed a bit brighter. To see the worry in your eyes had him soft, heart easily shaken by even the smallest of gestures. After eating, you two watched a few things on the TV and just overall had a good time.

A few times Kenny caught himself staring, eyes lingering on your smile, the way your eyes creased when you laughed, following the curves of your body as you moved. He had been trying to keep his heart in check, as if he could hold the damn organ in his hand and force it to behave normally around you. But the smooth sound of your voice and the sweet smell of your perfume made it hard for him to keep his composure.

By the time evening rolled about, you two had moved on to playing video games already. At first, you played something cooperative, but soon enough you had moved onto things Kenny was far more used to - fighting games. The minute he picked the game, you knew it was already his territory. It’s not like you hadn’t played any of them, not like you didn’t own some, but Kenny was a bit too much on too much into it. And you were nowhere on his level. As his third victory in a roll proved. Or was it fourth? You didn’t wanna think about that.

“Really, are you even trying?”

Kenny laughed and you rolled your eyes, feeling the well known urge to punch his face lurking in the background of your mind. Instead, you picked up one of the soft pillows over the couch and hurled it at his head, sending a warning shot full force his way - although, a fluffy one. You didn’t even look his way, eyes facing the TV as you heard his surprised yelp from his spot on the sofa. In your peripheral vision, you caught your soft foreign object hitting him right in the face before falling to the floor, Kenny scowling as he laughed for a second.

“Keep pissing me off, I’m gonna be trying to break your back again,” you mumbled in response to him, pushing the button to start the next match.

“Oh, come on,” Kenny started before you shushed him.

“Shhh, it’s starting,” you shot back, waving the controller at him as the announcer counted the start of the match.

All you heard was Kenny laughing as he turned back to the TV, curving forward as he leaned on his knees. You were almost curling up on yourself in stress, sitting by his side with your legs pulled over the couch, torso resting on the sofa’s arm. His long fingers moved with a speed you couldn’t really even register, soon enough he was having you backed up again. For someone so good with actual violence, you performed really poorly at virtual violence. Kenny, on the other hand, was almost fucking born for this. He had been like that back in Japan too, so it was no wonder that he just got worse - well, actually, better - with time. It didn’t take long for him to be clearly beating your ass again.

And that’s why you cheated. Everybody has a breaking point, after all.

“Hey,” you heard him explain as your foot made contact with his shoulder, his exclamation getting mixed with your laughter.

Your kick threw him off balance and gave yourself a small opening that you managed to capitalize on. You could feel him stare back at you for a second before turning back to the TV, and though you had finally gotten the upper hand, Kenny was quick to get it back. His laughter filled the living room for about a second before you kicked in his direction again. This time he was faster, catching your foot with one hand just as it neared his shoulder.

“This is cheating, you know,” he laughed back at you.

“You talk like you’ve never seen me fighting,” you snickered at Kenny, glancing at him as he pushed your foot back in your direction.

You laughed again yourself, the one moment he took one hand from the controller was all you needed to recover. Kenny was swearing by your side, working hard to regain the ground he’d lost as he shook his head at your antics, not even hiding his amused chuckles. If you were to be honest, pestering him was far more fun than the game. Especially as he was pushing you into a corner once more. So, without thinking twice, you tried to strike him again.

“Oh, no, that’s enough,” you heard Kenny say as his hand caught your foot.

You were laughing loudly now, and Kenny could hear the pure glee you got just from pestering him. When he caught your strike, he pushed your foot forward this time, a loud ‘no’ echoing through your laughter as he extended your leg between you on the couch as he threw his much heavier one over it. He had gotten so caught up in your hijinks that it took him a moment too long to notice you had been capitalizing on his loss of attention all along. When he finally did though, he tried to appeal to your own tactics, dropping the controller, hand reaching for your forearm and trying to throw you off balance. But it was no use, the game finally ending with you winning.

“Cheater,” Kenny turns fully to you, voice loud as he pushes your forearm back in the direction of your body, leaning in close to you.

Your amused chuckles turn to a mock evil laughter at his comment, body shaking wildly. Kenny holds himself up on the sofa’s backrest with one arm, his other hand still pushing against your forearm, fingers wrapping completely around as he had you cornered against the arm of the couch. At first, he is shaking his head, repeating his words and giving you his best judgment stare. But soon enough he breaks, laughing alongside you, your own laughter turning more genuine. He let go of you, your arm lowering as you both laughed together, eyes shut tight as his lungs burnt like fire.

It took a few seconds for your laughter to start to die down, and when it did, Kenny opened his eyes first. That was when it hit him, just how close you were. He could see every detail of your features, from the wrinkles around your closed eyes to the dimples near your mouth as you laughed so freely alongside him. He could feel the heat of your body too and smell your perfume, it was something warm and sweet, like chocolate and citrus.

The scent hooks his mind like a drug, making a moment turn into an eternity before you finally open your eyes, a bright smile painting your face. You look at him and he swears he has never seen anything more beautiful in his life, the undertow of your eyes pulling him deep. He can feel how heavy your breathing is, just like his own, both of your faces just a few inches apart. Kenny knows he should get away from you, but he doesn’t find the guts to do so, feeling his mind dazed by the pull of your eyes and the inviting warmth of the smile curling on your soft lips. So he stays, mesmerized by your beauty, thick silence hanging between the two of you before your smooth voice breaks it.

“You know,” you whispered and Kenny could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, almost taste the words as they spilled from your gorgeous lips, “you never answered if you’d kiss me or not?”

Your question catches him completely off guard, it’s like breathing is an alien concept as his lungs tighten and his throat closes. Kenny’s eyes widen in response, exposing all of their chilling blue, black overtaking it as his pupils dilate. His mind screams loudly in his head, repeating two heavy words: you remembered. You remembered. He had all but buried the memory of that night and all it stirred in him, but you remembered. All of these months, and you did. After a moment of panic, Kenny remembers how to breathe, sucking in air and the intoxicating smell of you.

“You remember,” he mutters silently, half a question half a statement, he doesn’t even know why he does it, the words bursting through his teeth despite not even registering in his mind.

“Surprising, yeah,” you say between chuckles, darkened eyes burning into Kenny’s own, “but that isn’t an answer.”

You whisper the words like a secret and Kenny feels time coming to a standstill, ice creeping through his veins, poison in his bloodstream. His heart beats fast, fighting against his rib cage, he can hear its drumming, the thunderous sound drowning his reason. He shouldn’t do this, he knows. All the common sense in his head screaming that he is about to make a bad decision, that some desires are best left unfulfilled. But god, why should he listen to common sense? His life had been a continuous succession of him doing things he knew he shouldn’t, why would he stop now? Why stop himself when your lips feel magnetic, pulling him ever closer, your skin calling for his own in a language only your bodies can hear.

His consciousness screams in his ears, but it means nothing, the thunder of his heartbeat swallowing the sound as Kenny crashes his lip to yours, closing the gap between you both. It’s like time moves again, your warmth spreading through his body and melting away the chill in his veins. Your skin feels soft against his, molding to the shape of his own as he presses impossibly closer. He doesn’t even need to ask for entrance, as he leans into the kiss you open your mouth ever so slightly, inviting his tongue in. It’s an invitation he doesn’t dare deny.

Your lips taste like beer and Kenny remembers he used to complain, the bitterness stinging his tongue, but he thinks it fits you now, sharp bite adding an edge to your warmth. Otherwise, you feel soft and heaven-like to him, wet mouth welcoming his tongue as it slides inside. The taste of you is intoxicating, and the velvety caress of your lips has his heartbeat faltering as he slowly explores your mouth. Despite the fire in his body, the kiss is tender and tentative, deliberate in the same way of someone who returns to a home they once knew, but had long since lost.

Kenny doesn’t want to pull away, but when his lungs start to burn he has to, departing from the warmth of your lips with a heavy sight. He is almost afraid to look you in the eyes, but he does so anyway, finding your face inches apart from his own. His heart is still hammering against his ears when his blue eyes meet your gaze, expression unreadable for a moment before your lips curl into a smile. God, it’s like someone breathed life into him again, like he could take on anything, his anxieties all pushed back to the dark corners of his mind at the sight. You look perfect, you feel perfect, and he could be sure he was blushing by now.

“I’m gonna take that as yes,” you say with a small laugh and he feels your hot breath on his mouth.

“You should,” Kenny replies with a chuckle before diving in for another kiss, a hand reaching to touch your face.

His rough palm cradles your jaw as his fingertips touch your neck, warmth spreading through your skin. The touch is not forceful, it’s firm yet gentle, though the kiss this time is anything but. The minute Kenny’s lips crash back onto yours, his tongue is already in your mouth, tasting and claiming anything it can. Where the first kiss was tentative, this one is bold and greedy as he explores every inch of your wet mouth. You drop the controller from your hands to the ground before reaching for his broad chest, fingers digging into the soft fabric of his shirt, hard muscle welcoming your touch.

He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and you moan into the kiss, making Kenny pull you closer by the neck, his rough stubble scratching against your skin. You feel like you are drowning into his warmth, into the taste of his mouth and the woody smell of his perfume. One of your hands travels to the nape of his neck, feeling his soft skin burning under your touch like a furnace. Your other hand stays exploring his broad chest, feeling the thick ropes of muscle responding to your touch under his shirt. In the time you spent apart, he had somehow gotten larger, the broad expanse of his torso feeling solid to your fingers.

Kenny moans under your touch, breaking his mouth away from yours and sucking in a breath. You feel breathless yourself, trying to recover as he brushes his lips against your face. He adjusts himself on the couch, leg finally freeing yours before pulling you closer, a thick arm surrounding your waist and pressing your body closer to him as he leans into you. He feels so hot to the touch, heating you as your fingers travel from his chest to his sides. Kenny groans into your skin and the rough sound has you shivering as he kisses your jaw and down to your neck. His large hand cradles your head as you expose the sensitive skin to him, whimpers escaping from your lips while your hand slips under his shirt.

When your soft fingers touch the skin of his side Kenny grunts, running his teeth along your exposed pulse. By now, the part of his brain that protested had all but been drowned out, only the distant sound of the TV and your soft whimpers filling his mind. The sensation of your hands running up from his abs to his chest has a shudder climbing up his spine and a tightness forming in his core. Kenny lays sloppy wet kisses down your neck, devouring you like a desperate man. God, how had he missed the taste of your skin, the way your warm body felt against his. It was like seeing the sun again for the first time in years, a blessing made flesh.

A strangled cry leaves your mouth when Kenny bites lightly into the sensitive spot at the junction of your neck and shoulder - one he still had mapped in his mind even after all these years. Slowly but surely he finds his way around your skin again, hand grabbing your sides hard, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. When he bites into your neck again you moan, one hand tugging at his hair hard, pulling a low groan from him as his darkened blue eyes find yours.

You look him over, and Kenny prays to any god that he doesn’t seem as desperate as he feels. You look gorgeous yourself, breathless and dazed, trapped between his torso and the arm of the couch. He only lets you both have a moment to regain your breath before his mouth finds yours again in a messy and needy kiss. Your tongues move together as he feels you moan into him, sound swallowed by his hungry lips. He feels you digging your fingers into his chest and he shudders again, cock straining against his underwear, hard and sensitive. The hand you have on his neck slides to his shoulder, and suddenly Kenny is being pushed backwards, his torso meeting the backrest of the couch as you move to straddle him.

The kiss remains unbroken even as you change positions, mouths still moving against each other in a sloppy dance. Kenny is more than happy to let you climb on top of him, a thick arm pulling you ever closer, chests pressed together. His other hand finds your clothed thigh, slowly traveling up until it finds your hips, fingers moving to the expanse of your ass, groping hard the soft flesh there. You roll your hips over his, and Kenny breaks from the kiss with a hiss, the friction making his cock even harder. Though, you don’t give him a moment to breathe, soft lips kissing the way from his mouth to his jaw and then down to his neck.

Kenny almost whimpers at your touches and it has your mind reeling. To have a man that feels so massive, so solid, grunting and groaning under you is exhilarating. It’s like your senses are on overdrive, making his smell and the warmth of his body act like a drug to your system. His stubble scratches against your lips as you kiss your way down his neck, and you feel every reaction of his body, the way his fingers grip harder and the muscles tighten under your touch. Kenny’s large hands feel heavy on you, one kneading hard at the flesh in your ass and the other sliding below your shirt, his touch searing your skin.

You roll your hips over his again and a groan escapes through his teeth, you can feel the vibrations in his neck before even hearing it. There is something rough and seductive to the untamed sounds he makes, the way his voice feels husky and thick, dripping through your entire body. Truth be said, you could hear him all day. You lick a strip down his thick neck and Kenny shudders under you, your body hyper aware of every movement of his own. He is gripping you hard, the hand in your shirt moving up your sides, his rough thumb and palm caressing your breast - this time, it’s you who shudders.

With a moan, you grind your hips against his, feeling the hard bulge in his pants push straight against your crotch - you hadn’t forgotten that he was big but, shit, it still felt impressive. You bite into his neck lightly and that has Kenny grunting a deep sound, hips bucking against yours and it’s all too much. Your body is screaming, burning with desire, pussy tightening around nothing just at the clothed friction. It’s like you are set aflame, and you need him now. You slide away from his lap swiftly, like your body has a mind of its own, positioning yourself on the floor between his legs, fingers ghosting over his waistband for a second as your eyes find his own.

As soon as your weight lifts from his legs, Kenny already misses the feeling of your body pressed against his. Your movement had been so fluid that he barely had any time to react, his hands missing your supple flesh and the softness of your skin. When his eyes find you kneeling, he is almost taken aback by the sight, breath caught in his throat for a moment as he takes in your slightly disheveled form, the colorful lights from the game illuminating your body as the background music keeps on looping. Fuck, this definitely wasn’t how he expected the night to go, but he wasn’t about to complain.

You dig your fingers into the waistband of his pants, tongue sliding out to lick your lips, and that’s all the incentive Kenny needs, immediately sliding his hips closer to the edge of the couch. You run one hand over his sensitive bulge, the other holding onto his clothed thigh, while your darkened eyes find his. Kenny groans at the touch, feeling his erection twitch under your fingers, every fiber in his body tightening at the friction. In one movement he pulls the waistband of his pants and underwear down, freeing his rock hard cock, big veins popping all over his thick shaft.

Kenny’s large hand wraps tight around the base as he admires how perfect you look between his legs. He tries not to think about how much he had missed the sight, missed the feeling of your skin on his. He wants desperately to tell you just how fucking gorgeous you look, but the words catch in his throat, still unsure if this is all a dream and afraid that if he says anything the spell will be broken. All those thoughts are banished from his mind, though, as you follow his lead, hand wrapping around his own.

You break eye contact with him, bringing your mouth closer to his cock, lips hovering over his sensitive head in a tease before you take it in your mouth, pulling from Kenny a guttural sound. His whole body shudders under you, massive thighs tensing at your touch. Damn, from this angle his frame looked even bigger than before, an utterly impressive sight. You suck on the head of his cock and he groans deep and dark, the sound alone making your core tighten, and he felt just way too good in your mouth. With a moan, you unwrap your lips from his dick, gripping his large hand as you sit back on your knees, soaking in the image before you.

Kenny was huge, that was no news to you, but he was still a sight to behold. His cock was long, veiny and thick - thick enough to fill his own large hands, deft fingers only barely wrapped around the girthy shaft. You take it in your hand, taking in just how hot and hard it feels against your palm, his fingers releasing their grip on himself as you replace them. Bringing your lips teasingly close to his heated skin, you move them from his head all the way down to where your fingers wrapped around the base. Kenny groans as you press the flat of your tongue to the underside of his erection, tracing over the thick vein that runs from base to head. When your tongue reaches the red and sensitive head of his cock, Kenny moans, you can feel his powerful hips stuttering under you.

You repeat the movement a few more times, licking him from base to slit, relinquishing in tasting his cock before finally taking him in your mouth again. Kenny trembles under your hands as you suck on his head before going lower. You can hear him curse in a deep voice above you, it feels wild, dark and erotic all at the same time. The sound only spurs you on, making you take more of him in your mouth every time you move down before coming back up to the tip again. The groans turn to low and raspy grunts, your name hissed under his heavy breaths as you continue your movements.

You feel Kenny’s hand touch your face and for a moment you expect him to grab your hair and pull your face down, but it never happens. Instead, his thick fingers brush a strand of hair from your face behind your ear, caressing your cheek with a light touch as you moan around his cock. The softness of his touch came as a surprise when compared to what you were used to from him, and not an unwelcomed one.

When you moan around him, Kenny shivers, whole body reacting as he felt the vibrations go straight to his sensitive cock, a groan coming from deep within his chest. He watched through half lidded eyes as you swallowed him, mouth opening wide to take his thick shaft a good two thirds of the way in. Shit, you looked so good taking him like this, felt so damn perfect too, so warm and wet around him. The hand on your face continued caressing you, feeling the softness of your skin, fingers twitching slightly as your movements teared away at his sanity. His other hand held the edge of the couch, gripping so tight that veins popped all the way up to his forearm. He was slowly losing himself in the sloppy pleasure of having your mouth around his cock.

Your name spills out of his mouth in a strained mutter, Kenny struggling to keep his eyes focused as the erotic wet noises you were making brought him ever closer to the edge of madness. You bobbed your head up and down, dragging his cock on your tongue and the soft walls of your mouth. The coil in his core tightened even more as he watched you working him so perfectly that he almost couldn’t believe it, lips coming closer and closer to the base of his erection. Kenny groaned, feeling his whole body shivering, fighting the instinctual desire of his hips to just buck into your mouth. He was pretty sure you could feel it too, feel the way his body tensed, feel how his muscles twitched even under his clothes, feel the way you drove him to madness, body and mind.

Kenny almost whimpered as you slid further down, gagging slightly around his cock as it got so damn close to the back of your throat. He gasped, heart racing in his chest as he cradled your face in his large hands, fingertips gently caressing the skin of your nape. It felt so fucking good, his consciousness almost slipping away from him, mouth whispering praises that his brain didn’t even register. You were moving slower now, working your way to the place where he wanted you to be, deliberately pushing him deeper down. Your wet mouth felt heavenly on him, making sloppy, almost pornographic sounds as you slid down, and Kenny wanted so much more. But he could wait for it, let you set the pace, he knew you’d find your way to the base of his cock, he was sure of it.

The sound of Kenny’s muttered praises and desperate grunts reached your ears like a wave of pleasure, lighting your body even further aflame. He felt so hot under you, powerful body twitching and tensing at your touch, his thick erection throbbing against your lips as you felt the stuttering of his hips again. In contrast to the rest of his body, the hand on your face remained gentle, caressing your jaw and neck before his fingers delved into your hair, holding it firmly but still letting you set the pace. Slowly you worked more of him into your mouth - a hefty task that you hadn’t done in years, and Kenny was even longer and thicker than you remembered. But, fuck, he was so delicious, there was no way you wouldn’t take the whole thing in your mouth again.

A groan rumbles through Kenny’s body, his hips almost shaking under you. His thick cock twitched between your lips and you could already taste the precum spilling from the slit, flooding your mouth. God, he felt so good, the swollen head of his cock dragging over your tongue down past the back of your mouth every time you pulled up and then swallowed him again. You get close to taking all of him and Kenny grunts, the sound shaking your body and reaching into your core. He is moaning loud now, precum leaking vigorously as you suck almost all of him. When your lips finally kiss his base, he shudders, cock throbbing intensely as he groans your name like a prayer.

Kenny has to fight the urge to scream when he feels your lips touch his hips, feel his entire cock sheathed balls deep in your mouth. Instead, he mutters your name, dirty praises laced in desire falling from his lips. His brain barely even registers what he says, too focused on the feeling of your mouth around him. Kenny caresses your head with the hand in your hair, words failing him when you start to move again, pulling up to the tip then diving all the way to the base. Shit, you felt so soft and wet, taking his whole fucking cock, so god damn perfect. He could feel his erection throbbing as you picked up the pace, the coil in his core tightening fast, a shudder wrecking through his body.

“Ah, fuck, that’s it,” Kenny groans in a broken plea, voice husky and deep and dripping with something sinful. “Fuck, taking me so good. Looking so pretty, too,” he whispers, half lidded eyes following your movement.

His praises turn to curses as the feeling of your mouth dragging along his sensitive dick has him delirious. It’s like his whole body is being taken to the edge of pleasure, winding so tight that he can’t help the bucking of his hips anymore, his muscles moving on their own. Kenny watches you bobbing your head, taking him all the way again and again, the flat of your tongue dragging along the vein on the underside of his shaft and driving him mad. He feels his cock throbbing more and more as his orgasm draws ever closer, coating the inside of your mouth in his salty precum, making your movements even easier as it mixes with your saliva.

The grip he has on your hair tightens, but Kenny doesn’t try to control your movements, already going crazy as he just watches you slobbering up and down his cock. His fingers on the edge of the couch grip even harder, knuckles turning white. You look so fucking pretty sucking his cock, feel so damn good, and that’s all he can think about. All he can feel is you, and the way his length throbbed on your tongue, the wet warmth of your mouth as you took all of him. It was too much, driving Kenny to the edge until he felt the coil in his core snapping, white flooding his vision as a deep shudder shakes his whole body.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts, his deep voice almost breaking, “I’m gonna cum, I’m g-”

Kenny loses himself before he can finish his words and you stop your movement, keeping his cock all the way in as it twitches and throbs with abandon. He makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a roar as his release spills deep inside. You can feel his body trembling under you, thick thighs shaking as they frame your form. He is shooting rope after rope of his cum, it floods your mouth and throat as you start to swallow. That task is made harder by just how thick it is and how much he shoots, the strong taste taking over your tongue and it feels so damn good. You milk Kenny through his orgasm before pulling him out of your mouth, a bit of his cum still spilling from the head of his cock and landing on your lip.

Relaxing back against the couch, Kenny grunts, the rumble coming from deep within him as he watches his cum dripping down your lips. He releases his hand from your hair, caressing your face with his knuckles before his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, spreading the cum that had spilled on it. You suck on his thumb and Kenny shudders, a long groan escaping his lips as his blue eyes get lost in the sight before him. Shit, you looked too sinfully good like that, a beauty that his words could never do justice - and one he had been almost sure he had lost forever. You smile and his heart warms, his own lips curling up in response as he puts his cock in his pants and then helps you back up on his lap.

“Holy shit,” Kenny mutters under his breath, eyes closed as he tries to calm his erratic breathing.

“Everything okay there, Kenny?” you ask with a laugh.

Hearing his name in your voice sends a shiver down his spine, a feeling not helped by how your warm hands caressed his face. Kenny laughs along with you, hands rubbing your clothed thighs in slow movements as he lazily opens his eyes. He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face as he sees you, hair tousled and lips reddened from the abuse, your skin glowing beautifully under the colorful lights from the TV. To him, you looked perfect, the most gorgeous sight he had ever seen. Without thinking, Kenny leans forward, pulling your body against his as his mouth captures your own in a slow but passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and tasting the remnants of his cum.

“Oh yeah, more than ok,” he responds with a laugh as he finally breaks from the kiss, face still hovering close to your own. “Shit, I had almost forgotten just how fucking good you are at that.”

“Ouch, I take offense in being forgotten,” you snicker, your warm laughter ringing in his ears as he kisses his way from your jaw to your neck.

“I said almost,” he grunts, looking up at you from where his face was buried in your heated skin.

You catch sight of his eyes as he speaks, their beautiful blue having returned, like a fragment of the ocean in reach of your hands. Kenny nips at the skin below your collarbone and you shudder, a small whine leaving your lips. His body feels almost searing hot against yours, stubble scratching your chest as he lays lazy kisses and bites at the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your hands roam over his broad back, finding the rim of shirt to bunch up the fabric and let your fingers touch the warm skin below, feel the way his thick muscles ripple under your palms. His massive frame almost engulfs you fully, large hands holding your hips in place with a strong grip. He felt so big, so powerful - and yet, nowhere near as dangerous as he did back in Japan.

Kenny bites at your neck again and you moan, nails digging into his flesh. You feel him groan more than you hear it, the sound muffled by your skin as his mouth never leaves it, his tongue making a hot wet mess of whatever it touches. One of his hands moves to your ass, groping you hard again as the other slips under your shirt, thick arm circling your waist and keeping you pinned against him. He sucks at your sensitive flesh and you moan again, burying your face in his soft curls. Kenny’s teeth digs into your skin and you almost scream, trying desperately to squirm against him, but it’s to no avail. He does it again, biting harder this time as he sucks on your neck and you force your mind to work, one hand tugging on his hair to pull his mouth away from you.

“Kenny!”

You cry out his name and he immediately pulls away, bright blue eyes finding your own, worry tinging their gentle waters. The cool air of the room meets the wet trail he left on your neck, leaving a chill touch on the area. Kenny’s large hands don’t let go of your body, but his grip loosens, allowing you more room to move, his fingers gently caressing your skin. The softness in his touch echoes the worry in his eyes and you almost feel bad for him - but you really don’t need a hickey on display for your next match.

“Hey, careful not to mark me,” you say with a laugh, trying to ease his worries as your fingers brush his hair away from his face. “I got a show in two days.”

“Shit, shit,” Kenny mutters under his breath, eyes falling away from your gaze. “Did I hurt you?” There is worry still laced in his voice as his hand comes up to your neck, touch so very gentle as he inspects it.

“It’s ok, Kenny, I’m just being a bit cautious,” the words leave your lips with a warm laugh, your hands brushing over Kenny’s large shoulders as you shrug before pushing him back against the couch. “I mean, you’ve always been a pretty intense person, no criticism, I mean, but the last thing I need is a huge purple bite mark on my neck on show night. Just watch out for the visible places and we are good,” you chuckle again before your lips meet his in a kiss.

Kenny welcomes the touch of your skin against his, but it still doesn’t fully clear him of the tightness in his gut. You had put it lightly by using the word intense, he knew he used to be downright aggressive during sex when you were together. On one hand, that was part of a person he wasn’t anymore. He had changed from that rush and aggression from his youth to someone who was passionate, hard but not violent, just different from what you had last experienced. But on the other hand, that was something that scared him too - the possibility that what you wanted he’d fail at offering you.

When your lips slowly pull away from his, Kenny opens his eyes again, hoping you can’t see the turmoil in him. He caresses your skin, giving you a smile as one of his hands rubs your thigh, the other flat against your back, keeping your body close to his as your mouths part. Your fingers delve into his hair and Kenny groans again, feeling your other hand roam from his shoulder to his bicep. When he meets your gaze again Kenny gives you his best laugh, trying to ease himself more so than you.

“I think the word you were looking for there was aggressive. But yeah, I’ll keep away from the visible spots,” he responds with a chuckle, eyes drawn by the smile you give him. “Though, it has been a long time since we last had sex, and I’m not that same guy anymore. So if you are looking for that, well, I’m afraid you’re not gonna like what I’ve got to give you now.”

As Kenny talks, he buries his nose in your neck, words spoken against your warm skin as he tries to hide his anxieties from you by drowning in the scent of your body. Your moan reaches his ears as he kisses the exposed part of your shoulder, his large hands bringing you ever closer - as if praying you wouldn’t get away, silently begging for you to stay. When he feels you pull at his hair he looks up again, blue eyes finding you looking back at him, an inviting smile painted on your face as your hand moves to hold him by the jaw.

“Why don’t you let me know that new you, then?”

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#kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega smut #kenny omega imagine #aew smut

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ryndicate · 2 years ago

Text

How bad do you want it? ⨳ Ichida Ryuken

"Then you know what to do."

notes: for @semisgroupie 's what's done in the dark collab! I've finally written something for bleach and I couldn't be happier to be writing about daddy Ishida >:3

warnings: uneven power dynamic, abuse of position, reader is given multiple outs aka consent, unprotected sex, public/risky sex

By expanding you are agreeing to viewing adult content and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Rules & Main Links

Whispers have been echoing around you since you arrived at work this morning, early but not so bright at a severe three in the morning.

"Have you seen next week's schedule?"

"I haven't had a day off in three weeks."

"At least you don't have four back to back doubles. I've done nothing but work and sleep for god knows how—"

"Ma'am!" The youngest nurse in the lineup, Sachi you think, pops up from her seat after catching sight of you frowning at your boards. You turn to see her pacing towards you and grimace.

You had seen the schedules too and were feeling the drain the same as everyone else. A few staff members from your department had been transferred last month with no replacements in sight.

"Can you please talk to Dr. Ishida," she all but begs you, her voice carrying enough to draw some of the other nurses towards you, their expressions taking on a hopeful outlook. "If anyone can convince him to hire more nurses it would be you."

Too late to escape, you try to ready a smile as the other nurses chorus at you, anxiety climbing.

"He always listens to you! It's probably because you're so good at your job."

"Yeah, I couldn't even get him to order new pens."

"He's so curt with everyone else."

"It wouldn't hurt to try, right?" Sachi throws on her best puppy eyes for good measure and you feel your willpower splinter. "Worst he could say is no?"

"Fine," you sigh, the pulsing of a new headache sounding like the last nails in your coffin. "I'll ask him after my shift today; he's got surgeries for most of the afternoon and a consultation in the evening."

Everyone relaxes measurably, breaking off one by one to get back to their duties and thanking you in hushed tones as the man in question appears around the corner.

Dr. Ishida Ryuuken barely gives you a cursory glance before breezing right past and you stiffen, making a show of studying the papers in your hand until he's gone.

It's right to feel intimidated; tall and fit with vibrant snowy hair and a sharp jawline, he's incredibly handsome, barely looking a day over thirty despite having a teenage son. Quiet and icily strict, he’s a talented and sought after doctor despite losing his wife all those years ago. You could hardly imagine a man as cutting as him to even have had a wife, but you've never married so you guess you don't understand what it's like to lose a partner.

"Wouldn't hurt him to be nicer though." You rub your eyes, mumbling the words under your breath before glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one heard you.

It’s a long day, like always. The work is hard, but in the end it’s good work. Infected stitches, bed sores, endless looping conversations with worried patients… someone has to do it, right?

You’re standing in the nurses bathroom exhausted, starving, and making a small attempt to wash some of the day’s grime away while you work up the nerve to go back upstairs to your department head’s office. This is honestly the last thing you wanted to do today, but you’ve been here longer than the rookies who swarmed you this morning, and honestly? They’re right. If they tried to talk to Dr. Ishida, he would have sent them running with their tails between their legs. You, on the other hand, have a little more backbone than that.

Feet still sore from the day you take the elevator up, thankful to find it empty and silent, and make your way down the familiar path to his office. You pause outside the door at the sound of muffled voices coming through the door. You check your watch. It’s nearly eight; you thought he’d be done with his consultation by now. There’s no way it would have run this long. Listening intently you try to make out the words.

“Sir, it’s the board of directors again. They’re trying to schedule—”

“Tell them I’m not here.”

“They’re not going to believe that.”

There’s a beat of silence and you can almost feel the undoubtedly stormy glare roiling behind his glasses.

“Then tell them to contact me during my operating hours. I’m off duty. They can leave a message like everyone else.”

“Sir, it’s the board.”

There’s more silence, and you step back from the door quickly when you realize their conversation is over, trying to appear unassuming.

Ishida’s haggard looking aid doesn’t spare you a glance as they leave, and suddenly you feel less pessimistic about your own job.

The door is ajar so you tap your knuckles on the door, peeking in.

Dr. Ishida looks up from his desk, eyes still sharp, but some of the severity dissipates as he realizes it’s you.

“What is it this time?” He goes back to the papers on his desk. He’s aloof, bored, but with no direct dismissal you gather your nerves to do what you came for. You leave the door open to make the point that this won't take long.

“The nurses are still having a hard time since the transfers finalized,” you start, haltingly.

There’s several long moments of silence and for a moment you think he’s going to ignore you indefinitely before he looks up, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And?”

The dry expectancy of his tone has heat rising beneath your collar, but you grit your teeth and work up your customer service smile from the days you worked retail to put yourself through nursing school. You never thought that experience would actually be useful, but here you are.

“Well, I understand how important your time is, sir, but we were hoping you might take some time out of your busy schedule to hire some additional staff to help balance the workload.”

As much as you try, there’s no curbing the biting undercurrent to your words. You’ve been in this position too many times to not be tired of it, and today you really just want to go home.

The good doctor turns his chair to face you, and his now piercing stare is enough to whittle away at your faltering confidence shakily propped up by indignance. You find your feet shifting as you try to ease your discomfort as he looks you over.

When he doesn’t say anything you’re getting ready to turn and stalk out of his office, but he finally speaks.

His voice is smooth now, nonchalant. “How important is this?”

“It would really help, sir,” you sigh, meek and defeated as he moves his chair a few feet back from his desk, the wheels giving a light squeak as they catch on the carpet. He leans back in it, crossing his arms. There’s an intensity in his eyes now that's different, an unspoken dare.

“Then you know what to do.”

There's that moment of resistance, there always is, where you simply maintain his stare with the blankest expression you can manage. But you inevitably crumble.

With a silent sigh, you reach for the hem of your scrubs and pull the colored pattern over your head. You're reaching for your bra when you pause, remembering the door is still open.

Your hands drop and you're turning when Dr. Ishida's voice quietly rumbles across the room.

"Leave it." You glare at him and he stares back, immovable. "Unless you're done here?"

There it is, your best chance at walking out. Ignoring his bait you swallow your biting retort and unhook your bra, heat rising beneath your skin as he eyes your exposed tits, already hard from the scrutiny. You don't give him much more time than that, kicking out of your shoes and shoving your scrub bottoms off before coming around the edge of his desk.

You're left in nothing but a simple pair of gray cotton panties. Trying to hide your nerves, you lay yourself over his desk, nipples tightening painfully against the cold wood, hips raised and jutted out, displaying your ass for him.

You inhale slowly as he trails his hand up your outer thigh, skimming over the curve of your ass with such a gentle touch that it’s almost too sensitive. It makes you want to shy away, but you know that would only displease him, so you bite your inner cheek and steel yourself.

“Laundry day?” Ryuuken hums idly, sliding a finger in the band curving your left cheek and letting it go with a soft snap.

“With respect, fuck you, sir,” you sigh wearily, not in the mood for his brand of teasing today.

There’s a single note chuckle behind you, and you hate the way it sears against your skin like a brand, goosebumps rising down your spine in anticipation as you feel him move closer behind you. Instinctively you raise yourself to the balls of your feet as you feel his erection against your ass.

“Good girl.”

He’s amused now and you want nothing more than to hiss at him like a disgruntled cat, but your anxious eyes keep flickering to the open door, the risk of someone walking past keeping you silent.

Ryuuken rolls his hips into your ass a few times and smoothes a palm up your back, apparently content with taking his time.

“Will you hurry up?” you finally hiss, shuddering as his fingers make a third pass up and down your spine. You can feel the uncomfortable wetness growing between your thighs, the damp patch against your entrance sticking to your pussy.

His hand immediately wraps around the back of your neck, effectively scruffing you, and you can’t help but let out a little squeak of surprise. He presses more tightly against you, leaning down to put his lips by your ear.

“Be quiet or get out,” Ryuuken murmurs, soft and dangerous, but the apparent lust roughening his tone is like little sparks bursting in your gut. You go limp, resigning yourself to his petting, arousal building like bubbling pressure in a coffee machine.

You’re a hot flustered mess by the time you hear the clink of his belt, and you can’t help the tiny moan of approval as he finally tugs down your panties. The ache between your thighs has you biting every ounce of self restraint to keep your hips from arching towards him, letting him press on the small of your back and bump your feet into his preferred position like you wouldn’t have done it yourself given the chance.

A mewl is on the tip of your tongue, half choked as you chew your lower lip, at the feel of his fingers swiping through the slick you’ve accumulated. It receives a low hum of approval before his fingers are replaced with the blunt tip of his cock.

There’s a fog swirling over your mind. You can’t remember hearing the sound of a condom, but the heat and warmth of him slowly sinking into you is enough to send any worries of that flying from your mind. Your knuckles are white on the edge of the desk as you chew on a whine; his girth is something you’ve always reluctantly referred to as perfect, just enough to leave you full without making you grit at any pain, but his length always has you holding your breath because it never seems to end. He gives a little sigh behind you that has your mind fill with fluff, crackles of electricity sparking like exposed wires through your nerves.

“Breathe,” Ryuuken instructs calmly, and you hiccup, drawing in air like you just remembered how. “Again.”

There’s tears threatening your lashline as he stills, and you want to growl and posture at this stupid, sexy, rude as hell doctor being kind enough to give you time to adjust, but the alternative isn’t worth it. Knowing him, he’d rub it rather smugly in your face just how much you’re dripping all over him. So you sniffle instead, and tip your hips up just a little more, moaning in your throat as it has him pressing tighter against the front wall of your pussy.

One of his hands is stroking over the fat of your ass almost absentmindedly, as your pussy ripples around him at random, finally growing impatient for more stimulation. As if sensing your frustration, his grip moves to your waist and you curl a forearm under your cheek, ready to muffle any sounds if you need to.

His thrusts are quick and dirty right from the start, and your teeth are making divots in your arm before you know it. You get the sense that you’re not the only one stressed from today’s workload; it’s as if he’s trying to slam every ounce of pent up frustration out through your cunt. The unbreaking pace is mind-numbing and your eyes glaze over as he strikes deep in your core.

Ryuuken’s grunts are quiet but they bathe over your ears, causing your pussy to squeeze down on him, and the hand supporting the brunt of his force flashes back to grab his wrist as you feel pleasure curl so close to the surface that you’re sure you’d crumble if it didn’t peak. He shakes his hand out of your grip and you almost sob, but he’s tugging your hips back further off the desk and reaching under you, the tips of his fingers brushing over your clit and your whole body locks up as your orgasm rips through you.

His breathed curse falls on deaf ears as you ride out the blissful storm, extended by the way he savagely pulls you back on his cock, jerking into you unevenly, frantically, and you taste iron and salt as he sinks deep and grinds.

He’s still for a moment, breathing hard before his cock slips out of your cunt, and you feel warmth spilling down your thighs. One of these days you’ll have half a mind left to pay attention when Dr. Ishida Ryuuken loses his composure, but you’re too preoccupied with riding out the final aftershocks as he straightens his clothes behind you and smoothes his hair down.

Only then does he slide your panties back up your legs, making sure they’re firmly in place. There’s the soft sound of rustling fabric and finally your awareness rouses. You raise your head to see the office door closed, and your discarded scrubs sitting on the corner of his desk.

Ryuuken watches you silently as you redress, offering no words, and you don't need them. You've been here before; you did what you came for, and he got what he wanted. Words weren’t necessary. Words complicate things.

He opens the door for you as you slip on your shoes. “Until next time.”

Something indescribable brightens inside you at Ryuuken’s words, and you give him a searing glare. In return you receive a small smirk, and he closes the door behind you with a light click.

As you walk down the hall, you tell yourself it’s only to gain favor with your employees, to help everyone out. That it’s altruism in its finest for you to pimp yourself out to the head of the department. That it has absolutely nothing to do with how well he fucks you and sends you on your way with shaking legs and a dripping cunt. Absolutely nothing at all.

Sachi is sitting at the nurse's station when you get down there, and you belatedly realize she was one of the nurses working double today.

“Oh, your arm!” She gasps, peeling out of her seat and dashing for the first aid cart. “I hate it when patients bite.”

You look down to see the mark on your arm; it’s bleeding, barely, but the crescent shape is like a ghostly reminder of his smile right before he closed the door in your face, and your heart jumps against your wishes.

Your glare returns in earnest.

Damn him.

#ishida ryuuken x reader #bleach x reader #bleach smut #bleach oneshot #ishida ryuuken #wditdcollab☾

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chevvy-yates · 1 year ago

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8. which ever blorb has your fixation today

First of all: I LOVE you linked the number back to the post OMG! I would have never found it again! Gives you a kiss to the forehead.

��

8. do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?

I'm going for Thyjs! rubs hands

I decided for him because he's literally the only one who got a nickname with a true story behind. Some may know about his nick name(s) and I teased the story probably here and there but never detailed, so here we go:

1st: 'Thyjs'

Thyjs is the short version of his full name 'Matthijs' — so 'Thyjs' can be seen as his nickname already. He doesn't like his full name that much as it's too long and it seems tricky to pronounce when reading it — if you're not Dutch. He didn't wanted to be called 'Matt', so he always introduces himself with: "I'm Thyjs* – pronounced like 'nice'." (he also is nice). His -new- last name is 'de Wit' (Dutch for 'the white'). He took that name when Vijay altered his data as he's now a citizen of Night City and his former last name 'van Buren' had to be deleted as Militech thinks he is dead. So even de Wit could be another nickname as Thyjs is really pale due to his albinism and has a few entire white outfits. But I do not count it as one, just thought to add it to as a little side note.

*I gave him an 'y' instead of the 'i' because it is more or less a habit of mine to do that and I think it looks fancier.

2nd: 'Storm'

bringing back this pic, because it's awesome:

Thyjs bears the nickname 'Storm'. It is also a code name used during his time as Militech soldier in various operations. How did he get it, you wanna know now?

Story behind the cut because I know this will get longer:

There was a dangerous situation in 2075 during a heavy fight caused by an enemy ambush on open range in the Afghan desert with almost zero cover from enemy fire. To Thyjs' squad hard luck there has also been a heavy thunderstorm over their heads. Thyjs was the only soldier left capable of using Sandevistan so he took his chance acting fast on said field trying to eliminate as much as he could using his fastness mixed with his shotgun that required to get pretty close. The more enemies he neutralizes the longer his Sandeviastan continues. He disabled a few drones and wounded human enemies lethally but one cyborg, also pretty fast, managed to mangle Thyjs’ left forearm, so that was also the day when he lost half of his arm. However, right in that moment a lightning strike decided to strike into an already dead tree probably four meters away from them, doing a flashover to Thyjs since he was nearest at that moment. Everyone witnessing this scene thought he would be dead but it was quite the contrary. Thyjs survived almost unharmed (only got a temporary burned 'tattoo' (Lichtenberg figure) on his body from it) and in the next moment he released a powerful EMP in a relatively large radius around him that hit literally everyone, dismantling robots and drones and shocking the rest of remaining human enemies as well. He saved his entire squad, several already wounded, but spared by Thyjs’ powerful strike as they too have been equipped heavily against electronic damage and were much farther behind Thyjs. This delicate operation gained him his nickname ‘Storm’ as his best squad mate Mika went calling him that afterwards and everyone adapted that name, not only because he was struck by lightning, though — it was the entire situation they have witnessed.

Thyjs fighting style cannot be watched with normal eyes as he’s way too fast for the average human eye to see. Thanks to his Militech ‘Apogee’ Sandevistan Mk. V he's like lightning. The only time you'll see him is before he starts and when he ends it, the ladder is already too late for the enemy. You may see him dodge incoming projectiles and enemy attacks in between, avoiding incoming enemies that are fast as well, sometimes he may even look gracefully, appearing for a moment as time pauses for max three seconds until he vanishes again, leaving only electricity behind, just to reappear in a different place, slaying his enemies one after another, ending them with a sound of thunder that is his Constitutional Arms M2038 Tactician 'The Headsman' Power shotgun. The reason why he didn’t die in the first place was that he got the Shock-n-Awe mod installed in his immune system that takes the damage he took and uses it for releasing either an electroshock or an EMP depending on the amount of damage taken. And second is, he knew himself that he somehow is immune to electricity. When he was still a boy he grabbed after a high voltage electrified fence, felt nothing and stayed completely unharmed (while his mother had the shock of her life). Just a tenth of an amp is already fatal to most humans. He didn’t know that it could also include a literal lightning strike, though he concludes the mod helped to absorb this huge amount of electricity too. All he knows is that he felt extremely dizzy and exhausted plus the loss of a good amount of blood where once his forearm had been. However — that situation made him obsessed with electricity and he started various experiments on himself to just find out he is able to withstand several amps of electricity passing through his body without getting harmed. He managed to power up light bulbs easily as well as connect himself between two broken cables to get power running again. Since Militech granted him to have some exclusive cyberware for his outstanding work. It gave him the idea to add not just a cybernetic projectile launcher system but one to use electricity in combat, so he came to his custom made cybernetic hand, modified to use electric damage in the form of lightning and his cybernetic arm got modified to actively feed electricity to make use of — therefore the glowing lines and fingertips. Yes, he can shoot lightning at enemies and is able to take electricity from various sources to load it up. You better equip yourself with Superinsulator or a Grounding Plating mod.

Thyjs is a special soldier. I wanted him to be unique, not only alone by him having albinism but also having the ability to use electricity (as I've wanted him to have a launcher arm with electricity in the first place), so it escalated into all this. And I regret absolutely nothing.

I've done a whole little song list some months ago, that helps to undeline his ability and how I see him in general that can be accessed here.

#oc asks #male v #about: thyjs de wit #and how he came to electricity #soldier character #ex militech #original charcter #cyberpunk oc #oc lore #cyberpunk 2077 #long post #thanks for asking <3 #I'll push that button now #I'll soon post more electricityyyyy

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jumpingjollyrancher · 1 year ago

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Day 13: Check

He's breathing more shallowly than normal. It's subtle, but he's well attuned to subtle changes in Sindri's behavior. It's for the best considering how much hiding the Viera does. Apollo watches him, noting the stiff way he moves his right arm. Someone else probably notices his eyes narrowing, but no one says anything when he crosses the infirmary to take Sindri by his arm. The Viera looks at him, not entirely surprised. Apollo hears him inhale, still shallow, but cuts him off before he can ask anything. "Come here," he orders.

Apollo pulls him, gently, toward one of the cots. Sindri comes, silently. The infirmary is actually mostly quiet. Most of the injuries from today's fight have already been treated. Rhalgr's Reach is settling in for a quiet night. A few stealth forays will happen under cover of darkness, but Sindri shouldn't have volunteered for any. He's been sticking close since they returned from Doma. Apollo honestly appreciates it. He releases Sindri at the cot side and waves. "Sit."

"Why?" Sindri looks at him, eyebrow raised. "I'm fine."

"Liar." Apollo crosses his arms and frowns at him. "I'm guessing you've got a fractured if not broken rib based on your breathing and the way you're moving. I can heal that up in a minute, so sit."

Sindri stares at him. Has Apollo surprised him? He's been healing for years and has made extensive study of the various peoples of Eorzea to better do so. One can't rely on pure, powerful aether for everything. It does need proper direction. Apollo nods to the bed again. Sindri frowns, sighs, and doesn't sit. "It'll heal fine on its own."

"It very well might. But we are in the middle of a second revolution and you, Sindri, are one of our best fighters. Sit and let me keep you that way." Apollo will not budge on this. Broken ribs can cause serious issues. It might just be a crack, but he needs to check. And then fix it.

With a grumble and a noticeable stiff motion, Sindri sits. Apollo simpers and puts a hand on his shoulder. "A knight is better served with his weapons and that includes your health." He drops a light cure spell through Sindri, easing the pain. He can feel his aether seek out injuries, all but reading him out a report. "Cracked two ribs, I stand corrected. What hit you?" Apollo bends down and rests his hand on Sindri's side.

The more focused and stronger healing spell lights up under his fingers. Unlike most that come out in warm greens or glowing silvers, his aether always shines with gold. The spell is warm and he lets it linger until he's certain the bones are completely healed.

As usual, he is unaware of how this position gives Sindri an excellent view of his ears and the top of his head. He's entirely unaware of the way Sindri's gaze lingers, how his fingers curl into a fist to stop him from reaching out. Apollo looks up, blue eyes bright, and Sindri controls himself.

"Doesn't matter." Sindri leans back. The stretch of his side no longer stabs at him and he rolls his shoulders. It feels like cheating to let Apollo heal him. It feels like a blessing dropped right from a god. One of their best fighters is right. His duty requires it.

Apollo stands. In a quick motion, he pokes Sindri in the forehead. "Tell me next time. Others need attention, so I can't constantly watch you for such things."

"I'll be fine." Sindri is the one doing the watching. Better his ribs, his back, his hands than anything of Apollo's. He stands and catches Apollo's arm this time. "You've done enough. The others can watch while you eat something."

His friend opens his mouth to argue, but drops it before the words can form. "Yes, alright. Food sounds...very good." He slumps, dropping his head on Sindri's shoulder. "And then bed, for both of us."

Sindri hums and leads them both from the infirmary.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #Apollo #Sindri #and they were sworn knights #outting myself clearly as hc lover with this one being twice as long as most

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myriad-ofmuses · 2 years ago

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Here we go again.. same old song and dance.

He experimentally fidgeted with the manacles binding his wrists behind him, but they were still as snug as ever, the metal gradually scraping away at the bone. He could probably slip a cuff if he broke his wrist, but he didn’t want to resort to that until he had secured a way of escape.

Unfortunately his magic reserves were still low, he hadn’t eaten in days, and what snatches of sleep he was able to get between cell beatings or these pointless interrogations didn’t allow for much recovery.

Everything hurt, he was sure his socket had cracked under the force of so many coldcocks to the face, though he did have the satisfaction of seeing the first bastard’s hand wrapped up the next time around, since then.. they’d learned not to strike bone barehanded.

He knew the only reason he was still alive, is because they were scattered and desperate for information. He was glad he’d managed to kill their fleet commander as was his mission, otherwise there wouldn’t be an ongoing power vacuum of the surviving officers. The guy was young, cocky.. he’d probably subverted command and failed to pick a successor in the event of his untimely demise.

One of the few things currently working in his favor..

He slumped back in his seat when the uniformed human came into the room, glancing up with his good eye to see which it was today - and somewhat amused that it was the burly fuck with the wrapped hand, curtsey of his hard head, and the man’s volatile temper.

He met the man’s glower evenly, at least as much as he was able to when one socket was glued shut with dried marrow, ready to dredge up what defiance he was still capable of in his current beaten state.

“We know you did it. There’s no question, you were captured near his quarters and his body wasn’t even cold yet. You were armed, and you put up a hell of a struggle.. not to mention, you’re a fucking monster. Why else would you be on our ship? I don’t know how you boarded.. but we know you killed him. It’s just the question of whether you acted alone, or were sent.”

Ryu heaved a long sigh that immediately made him wince, his ribs smarting from the consistent punishment, waiting until the sharp pain had faded, before finally speaking in a rasped undertone.

“I told you already.. I’m a stowaway. I admit that in itself is a crime.. but I haven’t killed anybody.. you saw my weapons for yourself, they were clean. So far as I’m aware.. there’s quite a bit of gore when one of you humans so much as gets a cut. My blades would be coated if I stabbed your commander, and I would have been too. You’ve got the wrong guy.”

The man growled and ground his teeth, looking all the world like he wanted to crack him in the face again, that the assassin was wearily prepared for. He was thankful he’d managed to stow the dirtied blade in his inventory before he was ambushed - and in that, he still wasn’t entirely sure how that had happened, normally he wasn’t so sloppy in his executions.

He doubted he’d make it through this alive, he already had some fairly serious injuries, and they were only getting worse with each consecutive beating. And it was getting harder to ignore the inclination to take his own life, his name-bound order to do so upon capture or failure to carry out his mission, one criteria being met the longer he remained a captive.

He probably would have done so already, if he had any means for it, and his hands weren’t constantly shackled. They likely suspected the same of him, they just weren’t aware that it wouldn’t be under his own power.

If he could just.. get his hands on some important information for the crown, he could supplant the suicide order and get himself free without the fear of losing his own will in the escape. He had a way to do it.. but there’d be no point if he’d just dust himself the moment he had a blade in hand.

The big man got up to angrily pace the room, and that’s when Ryu saw it - the injection gun hanging from his belt, and the vials of red liquid he’d been shot up with when they captured him, the unknown substance that was crippling his magic.

If he got one of those.. they could study it and reverse engineer an antidote for it, should it be used against them despite the supposed cease-fire. One thing was for sure.. the commander had intended a full-scale attack on their departing resupply shuttles, and now that he was dead, that threat was nullified for the time being.

He just needed that vial, and he could enact his plan to escape this hell.. or die in the attempt.

More than anything, he just.. wanted to see his loved ones again. Even if it might be one final time, it would be enough. That’s all he had left to fight for.

“Hey ugly.. when are you going to let me go? Or at the very least feed me? I got nothing for you. You’re wasting your fucking time. Real killer has probably already jumped ship by now. All cuz’ of your racist vendetta.”

The incensed neanderthal whirled around and stomped toward his chair, vein bulging in his temple and ham-hands clenched tightly. Oh this was going to hurt.. but this could be his only chance to get him close enough.

“You better shut your fucking mouth, before I shut it for you!”

Ryu sneered up at him, putting every bit of mocking defiance in his voice that he could muster, fingers subtly glowing behind the chair as he directed what tiny bit of magic he had to encase the vial, needing just a few more precious seconds to warp it away to his cell.

“Better shut your mouth before I shut it for you.. aren’t you tired of using the same old lines? Or is that the best your pea-brain can come up with?”

His vision was eclipsed by a massive fist but he was sure he’d managed to snag the vial off of him in time, closing his good eye just as the cacophony of pain struck and there was a deafening crack from his marrow-stuck one, the chair toppling backward and the added agony from his battered body more than enough to steal his consciousness away.

-----

When next he woke, he was in his cell, thrown haphazardly onto the dirty cot with a crude wrap covering half of his face, able to feel the ooze of marrow sticking it in place. Pushing himself up, he noticed that his hands were shackled in front instead of behind him now, meaning he wouldn’t have to painfully adjust or maim himself further to slip a cuff.

He supposed they were being less careful now, since they assumed he was too badly battered to be much of a threat. It paid to be small and unassuming, he supposed.

Thankfully the vial had gone undetected where it had warped to in the cell, and he quickly stowed it in his inventory, feeling the suicidal impulse relent at last, once it was safely secured.

He emptied his inventory of the remaining contents, the bloodied blade used to dispatch the commander, as well as a cosmic apple that glowed brightly in the dark, the assassin having stored excess magic into it, to utilize in emergencies. Sometimes it did pay to be an overthinker.

That piece of magic-infused fruit had to be the sweetest thing he’d ever eaten, every bite suffusing him with energy until the weak kindle of fire blazed back to life, finishing the apple - core and all, and letting his revitalized flames make quick work of the cuffs, breaking them apart with a quick shake to sling off the melted metal.

He had the energy to attempt a warp back home, and he wished that he could just cut and go. But too many of the officers had seen his face, they needed to be dealt with.. and he couldn’t leave his equipment behind, either.

And so, he melted through the bars of his cell, and went on a hunt. Hours and days had gone by in a blur, but it seemed he’d gotten his second lucky break, and woke when most of the ship had retired for the night. Even the guard posted in his block was snoozing away, and was silenced quickly.

Every step burned like fire, and his vision was hazy, but he kept to the shadows and went through his mental roster of those he’d had direct interaction with. He remembered most of them well, since the vast majority of them had ownership of the various wounds and bruising that he sported, and even he had to admit, the vengeance was sweet.

He saved the big mean fucker for last, long after he had murdered the others in their beds in the barracks, while the innocent of them had slept on, unaware. Mean fuck of course had his own private quarters, but it only took a smidge of energy to warp past his locked door, the original commander-killing blade gripped in his hand.

While he had dispatched the others with fresh blades after recovering his equipment, it felt only right in his last moments for the dumb fuck to see the weapon that had so eluded him. ..Maybe he was feeling particularly vengeful for this one.

He did wake when the blade found its sheath in his heart, giving a weak little cry and staring up into the unrelenting crimson eye of his executioner, the light of life slowly fading from his coal-black gaze, clawing ineffectually at the hilt of the blade, blood gushing with every panicked beat of his heart.

“You were right all along. Too bad you didn’t know about a monster’s inventory.”

With a harsh twist, it was over, the man slumping against the bloodied sheets, Ryu ripping the blade free and slipping it back into the sheath at his belt, feeling particularly exhausted now that he’d attained full vindication.

Before departing, he took a detour into the ship’s server room, and set it alight with a snap of his fingers, figuring whatever information about him that had been potentially archived, was better off going up in flames. Nor would it be a bad thing for these racist fucks to lose vital information in general, it would certainly be a huge drawback.

The room was half engulfed in wild flames when the claxons finally began to blare, summoning up every last vestige of magic and throwing it into the most desperate warp he’d ever performed in his life, thinking fiercely of home.. of safety at last.

All at once the world fell out from under him, the discordant sound of the sirens rapidly fading before being swallowed up by utter quiet, absolute darkness. Before he could process the dark, he found himself in freefall, then colliding hard with the ground, coughing and curling on his side with a shiver from the pain radiating all throughout his tortured frame, panting into the dirt.

He laid there for a time to get his bearings, squinting in the dark with his one good eye, trying and failing to push himself up, the pain far too great, and threatening to knock him right back out again if he continued to push it. It wasn’t long before he got confirmation on his whereabouts anyway.. though, it wasn’t from a positive source.

He painfully rolled over at the sound of angry squawking, able to make out the massive form of the rainbow asshole flaring out his wings and clawing at the dirt, ready to charge and defend his territory. It seemed he’d made it to his destination.. but had undershot it just enough to land his crippled ass in the bird pen.

Goddamn it.. had he really made it back, after ALL THAT.. just to get stomped to death by this flashy fuck?

He sighed and closed his eye, resigning himself to his stupid-as-fuck fate, listening to the heavy footfalls of the angry bird getting closer, and closer. Then suddenly, there was a second bird darting in from the opposite side, rivaling Barley’s angry squawks and slamming right into him, knocking him off balance and crashing to the ground nearby.

It was Briar, and she was pissed, tawny feathers completely puffed out and growling, tearing at the dirt with one giant foot, glaring daggers at the colorful male as he found his feet again, positioning herself in front of the injured skeleton, making it clear that he was under her protection.

Relief and gratitude flooded through him, and he watched the surly buck reluctantly retreat from the broody hen, whom snorted after his receding tail feathers, then bent and carefully picked him up by his hood in her beak, withdrawing back to her nest in the stables.

Scruffed like a bedraggled kitten, Rin was carried into the nest and carefully placed down amidst her newly laid eggs, the worried Jakabi nudging her beak against him as he slumped against her downy feathers, feeling everything catching up to him at once, black encroaching at the corners of his vision.

Well.. drowning in soft feathers was a better way to go. There was the very real chance he’d succumb to his injuries before he was found here.. but, at least this was peaceful.

He stroked Briar’s beak weakly, giving her cheek feathers a grateful scratch as she laid down over him and the eggs, cooing uneasily, but enjoying the affection nonetheless.

“Sorry girl.. seems trouble found me this time.. might.. not be able to look after Silas anymore, for you..”

The eye fully closed and he hacked up a bit of sticky red dust into her feathers, shuddering and burying in as his temperature began to plummet, his breathing shallow as the inky blackness closed in. The last thought that crossed the foggy ether was of his loved ones, a mental image of his brothers, two best friends, and ever-angry little antagonist, his hand closing around a fistful of feathers as if they were just within reach.

“M’sorry I wasn’t.. strong enough..”

Whether he meant in seeing them again, be honest about his feelings, or both.. even he didn’t fully know. He drifted away on a shaky sigh, completely unaware of anything else, even when Briar began to alarm call for her master, her feather-mate Buck in the adjoining stall soon joining in with a throaty crow of his own.

#🔥Rin/Ryu

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