Hi loves! A quick bit about me, I'm 24 years old, I'm black, and a total nerd. I have been obsessed with comics for years. I finally decided to write something here; hopefully not too cringy. I'm pansexual, you will most likely see that in my work. I also love anime too.
"Wanda is dead. I saw her die" Stranges says pacing away in his office. Looking absolutely ridiculous with his lounge clothes and a cloak.
"She's alive Stephen." I say exasperated
"Okay, I'll play. Let's say she's alive, which she's not. Why of all people would you go to her?" he gestures to himself, "I can help you."
"I'm not letting you anywhere near my memories thank you very much." I scoff at him, "I don't have time to bring you up to speed, I need to speak with her, and considering with what happened in Westview and your little multiverse incident, I don't know where her head is at mentally. All I'm asking is that you watch my back and be on standby" I plead
"Look I want to help you but that last thing we need is to instigate another fight with Wanda Maximoff, IF, she's even alive," Strange says. "If she's alive, I theorize she won't be happy seeing me, so no, I'm not going with you," I roll my eyes and stand up, ready to walk out, "I didn't say I wasn't going to help you," he says stopping me in my place
"Okay well, Stephen can you just spit it out some of us have shit to do," I say holding my hands out annoyed
He rolls his eyes and pulls out a display and uncovers it revealing a floating crystal ball, "This is the Orb of Agamotto. This allows me to monitor the universe and other surrounding dimensions. With the ability to 'Livestream' other planets and pinpoint magic users anywhere, except for those with the power to block its view. I can use this to watch you from a distance and if anything goes wrong, I'll portal to you and help"
I take a moment to think about it, "Fine, you have a deal" I say holding out my hand to him
He shakes my hand and smiles, "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"
"Ugh and you ruined it," I say, dropping my hand, rolling my eyes, and grabbing my sling ring, "For the record, I never really blamed you, and neither does Peter. You just happen to have an annoying face and that I can't forgive" I laugh to myself," Give me your phone" I say to Strange. He hands me his phone and I put my number in it and call myself so I have his number, "When I get there I'll call you and have you in my ear." I say putting an airpod in and giving back his phone. Pausing for a moment I take in a deep breath and exhale allowing myself to relax before opening a portal to the shuffling streets of Sokovia.
I step through turning to look at Strange, "If she's alive and as powerful as before she could easily sever my connection. Just keep that in mind." He warns. I nod my head and close the portal.
"Okay let's get this show on the road," I say to myself walking the down the city streets
----------------------
After getting some food and thinking about the next approach I decided instead of using a locator spell and exposing her safe space, I figure I'll summon her to me. So I picked the most public place I could think of.
A playground
Sitting on the bench watching the children play, I say in my head, "Wanda, I need your help" I call out to her making sure my intention is clear and that I mean no harm, "That should do the trick" I whisper to myself. I pull out my phone to call Strange, "Hey, she'll be here any minute. Can you see me?"
"You chose to bring 'The Scarlet Witch' to a playground?"
"She won't hurt the children," I say
"I once thought that too until she tried to murder America Chavez in front of me" he quips
"Yea well this time will be different Stephen," I say annoyed "Have a little hope will ya?"
He sighs, "You never told me why you need her specifically."
"I was told by my dead mother to go to her directly. She didn't say why, but I trust her judgment. Wanda may also have some info on someone else I'm looking for." I say rather quickly and annoyed
"So the short answer is you don't know," he says
"I've been on the phone with you for 2 mins and I already want to kick your ass," I say making us both laugh
"What's so funny?" I hear someone say near me, causing me to damn near jump out of my skin. It was Wanda sitting next to me in civilian clothes with her hair dripping wet.
"Good lord girl. You don't have to be so creepy" I say clutching my fake pearls
"You started It. I heard your little whispers in my ear while I was in the shower. I thought you had the drop on me." she laughs under her breath, "So why are you here? Don't you know I'm 'dead'? I'm sure Stephen told you. Right Stephen?" She asks a little louder
She knows
"Did you think I wouldn't know?" Wanda Asks
"Millie she's blocking me, I can't see you anymore," Stephen says in my ear, "I'm coming to you"
"Hold off Stephen," I say out loud, "It's okay" I pause looking at Wanda with a small smile, "Do you blame me? If I didn't come with some sort of backup, I'd be pretty dumb don't ya think?"
She looks at me for a while like she was searching for something in my face eventually looking away and letting out a large exhale, "I have been a real witch lately" she says causing me to laugh, "You said you needed my help and I could really use a distraction right now, so what can I do for you?"
"Hey, Stephen you still there?" I ask
"I'm still here. You still alive?" He asks
"Yep. I'm gonna let you go, I'm okay" I say to him
"Are you sure?"
"Mhmm, I'll text you later," I say before hanging up on him, "Let me buy you a drink. We've got a lot to talk about." I say standing up and holding out my hand to her
"One drink isn't going to cut it," She says taking my hand "Might have to buy the bar," she says making us both chuckle.
Wanda and I have been venting and drinking for an hour or so at this dingy little bar in the middle of town. We both are sitting in a booth in the back of the room effectively away from the other patrons.
"So," I say before throwing back another tequila shot, "So out of grief you kidnapped and brainwashed a random town in New Jersey, Created a fake husband and children, and then traveled through other universes, blindly looking for said fake children?" I ask
"Well," Wanda taking a sip of her bourbon, "I feel like you're oversimplifying it a bit. Westview wasn't a random town, Vis bought us some land there to build us a home and my children are only fake here, they're very much real elsewhere, but... essentially yes you are correct." She says finishing the drink
"Wanda," I say rubbing my head from the sudden rush I'm feeling, "That like really sucks"
"I Know right? "Oh and let's not forget Pietro, my dead twin brother," She says nonchalantly
I burst out in laughter, I couldn't help myself at her candor, "I'm sorry that was so mean" I said trying to control myself.
Surprisingly Wanda joins me, "You are fucked up, you know that?" She says laughing with me
"I know! I know! I'm sorry, it's either you laugh or you cry and I'm tired of crying" I say catching my breath from laughing
"Couldn't have said it better myself" Wanda says collecting herself from laughing with me"So enough about me and my lifetime of trauma, fill me in on what's going on; why do you need my help?"
"Can I just so show you? It will be quicker" I ask holding my hand out to her
"Is it going to hurt?" She asks hesitantly
"No. I mean no one has complained before?" I say smiling and shrugging. She places her hand in mine and I use my memory transference on her filling her in on everything; my ghost mom and her past with the darkhold, the books from Wakanda, how peter found me in the lake, and my lack of memory.
"Wow," Wanda says taking her hand back, "You've got some serious power Millie, your magic is vast." She says rubbing her hand "Unpredictable too... It's very familiar."
"Well that wasn't ominous at all," I say a little creeped out, "Can you help me?"
"Yes, I think so. We'll need an open field and it's probably going to hurt" She says standing up "Come on we should get going"
"Fine," I say standing up and throwing some cash on the bar, "But can we not skip over the whole 'it's going to hurt thing"
"I imagine being struck by lightning doesn't feel good," She says walking out
Bishop Briggs - Lessons of the Fire: Official Lyric Video | Devil In Ohio | Netflix
Wanda takes me to this field on the outskirts of town. It was surrounded by overarching trees and we were in the open center. When I look up I see nothing but a full moon and stars. The air was cool and the energy surrounding us was peaceful. Wanda had set up several candles around me in a circle and stepped out leaving me alone in the center
"Explain it to me one more time, " I say a little freaked out
"You need to summon the lightning to strike you"
"Okay but why?" I say a little freaked out
"The connection you and your ancestors have with nature runs deep in your blood. Channeling the weather seems to be something engrained in your DNA, specifically thunderstorms and lightning. A storm woke you up in that lake; you were struck by lightning. I'm hoping that with almost the same conditions, it could do the same for your mind. Make sense?" She finishes
"Yes, it does, I think. I'm sorry but I am scared the last time this happened it left me with a giant scar across my body." I say unconsciously rubbing my scar, "Are you sure you can't do some kind of spell?"
"I can't. Quite frankly I'm afraid too"
"What does that mean?" I scoff
"You possess multiple forms of magic. It shouldn't be possible to have more than 2 or 3. Millie, from what I felt from your hand and what you've shown me in your memories, you seem to possess 4. I'm afraid if I go poking around in your brain that you will unconsciously retaliate and that's the last thing we want to do."
Why is she being so cautious?
"What forms do you think I possess?"
"1 being eldritch magic, which you learned from the sorcerers. Accessible by humans, eldritch magic can be properly controlled by those with highly disciplined minds who have been trained in casting spells. Your ancestor Ayesha was a sorcerer supreme, so it's only natural that you have an affinity for this form. " Wanda pauses, I can tell she's a little hesitant to continue.
"Go on it's okay, I can take it," I say trying to convince her, and myself
"The second being Dark Magic, also known as Witchcraft. An extremely powerful and difficult type of magic used by sorcerers and witches to achieve their goals through morally questionable means.
"Morally questionable means? I would never hurt anyone.." I begin to say
"You wouldn't now, but what about you before your memory loss? Who's to say you weren't a bad guy? In your memories when your mother died you were taken by a coven of witches led by Agatha. Agatha isn't exactly a good witch; she's ancient and she's evil. I wouldn't be surprised that her influence on you wasn't positive, especially considering that she's also possessed the darkhold." Wanda sighs. "She was a pain in my ass, I'll take you to her after this."
She has a point, what if my memory comes back and I still have an allegiance to her? What If I lose my feelings for my current loved ones...
"Anyways" Wanda continues pulling me back from internal panic, "Dark magic can be combined with other types of magic, which leads me into your last 2 forms, darkhold and chaos Magic. When your mother was using the darkhold while pregnant with you, a portion of its power embedded itself in you. I am almost positive that's why are you able to use magic just by mentally displaying your intent."
"I can understand why I may have dark hold magic but chaos magic feels like a stretch. Due to its very nature, chaos magic is extremely unstable and requires a massive amount of energy and control to master it; I don't feel I'm at that level. I would have noticed by now right?"
"Like me, you were born with latent magical abilities, yours coming from your ancestors. Your generational power bestowment has given you vast immeasurable strength that was the perfect breeding ground for chaos magic. Let me ask you, have you been losing your temper or lost control of your powers lately?"
"Yea I have been losing control of my powers," I say thinking back to the incident in my bedroom and outside of the royal palace in Wakanda, "I also almost killed a man yesterday. Honestly, I think I could have done it if I wasn't stopped."
"Key signs. I knew your power felt familiar, I felt the chaotic energy pulsate through your veins; You're like me. If I fuck anything up messing with your memories you could go crazy destroying everything in sight. Do you get it now?" She says to me very seriously
"I do" I pause lost in my thoughts. After a few more seconds I hear a loud beep come from my pocket. I pull out the source of the noise and realize it was my pager.
It was a new voice message from Namor, I hold it to my ear and listen, "I miss you more Ki'ichpan"
Through messages and he still makes me swoon.
Feeling a little relaxed, I take in a deep breath, "What do I need to do"
Wanda holds out her hand, "Give me your beeper and your cell so they don't get destroyed." Doing as she says I throw my things in my sling bag and hand it to her, "Okay do what you need to do, to feel as connected to the nature surrounding us"
I take off my sneakers and socks linking my feet to the grass, "Okay" I nod to her
"You can already control the basic elements correct?"
"Yes," I say
"What are the conditions needed to cause a storm?" She asks me
"Storms form when warm, moist air rises into the cold air," I respond
"Make that happen," She says plainly
I silently nod my head and close my eyes; my feet are firmly planted on the ground and my hands are open at my side. I begin to box breathe:
In 1,2,3,4
Hold 1,2,3,4
Out 1,2,3,4
Repeat
Eventually, I feel myself relax, I'm only focused on the surrounding sound of the night; the wind around me was nothing more than a breeze. I was in a total moment of zen and for a while it was quiet. After minutes of silence, the wind around me began to dance and I feel the hair on my arms stand, "It's coming I can feel it" I said as the wind begins to pick up rapidly.
I open my eyes and lift my hand to the sky calling the lighting to me. I see storm clouds forming over us almost fully blocking out the moon, nearly leaving us in total darkness if not for the candles, "Come on" I yell to the storm. For a moment it grew eerily quiet but suddenly flashes of lights began to paint the sky; it was my lightning. Just as I began to smile with pride from the storm I created, a giant bolt of lightning makes it's way down, connecting to my hand and making my whole body seize.
The pain I feel is almost indescribable; not only did my body feel like every inch of me was on fire but my head felt like my brain was boiling inside my skull. For what felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a matter of seconds, the pain stopped and I fell to the ground. The only thing I remember before fading away was Wanda rushing to me, "Millie Wake up" she says, "Millie don't g-", was all I hear before slipping away.
----------------------------------------------
The Vibe:
Breathe me -- sia
It's dark and quiet. I can't feel anything. I can't move.
"Mom.." I hear a males voice whisper
Who's voice is that?
I hear the voice speak again, "Mom I-" he coughs not being able to finish his sentence.
I know that voice.
"Momma I can't move" he speaks clearly before coughing and gurgling. That voice is so familiar. It's warm like the sun. The sun...
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are gray
You'll never know, dear
How much I love you
Please don't take
My sunshine away
I love the sun. My son. I named him after the Sun God; the creator of the universe. He's my sunshine, my world, the center of my universe. My Amun.
"Amun!" I yell jolting up. When sitting up I instinctively grab my stomach in utter pain. Looking down I see I'm bleeding, I'm assuming a stab wound. Looking around I see I'm back at that same awful place. Kissena Park.
"Mom," Amun says
I hear my son call to me again; I snap my head in his direction and I see my son lying on the ground covered in blood, "No!" I scream crawling to him, "No, no, no"
When I reach him and scan him a little closer I can see he was stabbed like me but it must be somewhere fatal spot because he was coughing up blood, "He stabbed and knocked you out" he says in between coughs, "I tried t-to protect you but I wasn't strong enough, I'm s-sorry Mom"
"Hush now baby," I say panicked and in between tears, "I can heal you," I say holding my hand over his wound.
"You're too w-weak, you'll die," He says
"I don't care. You are my son, my life means nothing without yours. Just breathe baby" I say trying to calm him and myself down
"Momma, who is that? Sh-she looks like you" He says looking past me. I turn around and see no one.
"Amun baby no one is there," I say
"Momma she's so warm. I think- I think I'm going to go with her" Amun says to me
No.
"No baby stay with me. Don't go." I say my voice begins to shake, "Stay with me, I can fix you, Please" I beg
"It's okay momma, I'll be fine." He says before looking behind me and nodding his head.
I turn around and still see nothing, "What am I to do? How do I breathe without you?"
Amun takes my hand and squeezes it and smiles before taking his last breath. His hand relaxed in mine, and his eyes glossed over. As he took his last breath he took a part of me with him. I pull my son's body to me holding him tightly never wanting to let him go.
"Well that was dramatic" I hear a man say from behind me, "It was a shame he went down so fast, I expected more from him considering his lineage."
I gently put my boy's body down leaving a kiss on his forehead before standing up and turning around. It was the faceless man in the black suit, "Bring him back"
"Like mother, like daughter. What are you willing to trade for his life? Your mother gave me her power. What do you have to barter?"
"Take anything, my power, my life, my soul. I don't care to take it all"
"No" he responds, "Why would I bring him back? I was the one who killed him."
"Y-you attacked us?" I asked. My voice was shaking; I was filled with not only grief and sadness but an overwhelming sense of rage, "Why? We lived in peace, I have atoned for my past. How did you even find us, we were so careful for years."
"Your family has always been on my radar, But you should thank your friend Agatha, she pointed me in your direction." He smiles as my heart drops
Agatha why?...
"I knew one day eventually one of your family's descendants' power would rival mine and I just can't have that. I figure it's time to end the whole bloodline. You should take some pride that it ends with you, you are the strongest and with more time you could have been more powerful." He steps closer placing a hand on my cheek. I look at him where his eyes should be, "It'll be easier if you just surrender Millaenyia"
"All chances of me surrendering left when you Killed my son." I sneer
"So be it," he says disappointed. Before I knew it his hands were hovering at the side of my head, he was draining me of my power and my life, "Don't worry this won't take long" he says softly
I fall to the ground, no longer able to stand up. If I don't act quickly, I will die.
Maybe I should let him.
I ponder on that thought for a while and just as I was about to accept my fate the man speaks up, "Almost done, you'll soon be with your son"
My son. He killed my son.
I snap out of it, realizing I was about to let my son's murderer roam free, I quickly devise a plan.
I'm too weak to kill. But I think I have enough in me to trap him.
I look up and see the man holding his head back as he was draining me, he wasn't paying attention to my hands. I lift my hand out toward the tree behind him; I use what's left of my powers to form an opening in the tree that was big enough to hide a body within it. Once done I call to the roots and branches of the tree, willing them to slowly creep up behind the man and gently wrap around his legs and arms. He was so focused on the feeling of this newly acquired power of his, that he didn't notice he was being detained until it was too late.
"What is this?" He says seeing the branches wrapped around his hand, "What are you do-" the man says before whipping back into the tree. His arms were now behind his back being thoroughly wrapped in roots followed by the rest of his body. The only exposed part of him now was his neck up, "This won't hold me, you child"
I stand up and walk to him, "You will rot in here" I sneer before wrapping my hand around his neck quickly taking back my power and life force. "All you care about is power right?" I ask knowing the answer, "I'll take that too" I say now draining him of his energy and power, leaving just enough to keep him alive so he can rot here for the rest of days.
"Let me-" he struggles to say "Let me ou-" The roots cover the rest of him effectively muffling his words. I step back holding my hand out to the tree and use my powers to close and seal it shut. I place my hand on the tree and close my eyes:
To be Seen or Unseen.
Never in the focus of one's eye
Of nature's age, it does defy
To be Seen, or Unseen
With this spell, this tree will never age. It shall never be directly seen but it will always be here.
Once done with the small runes are now etched around the tree sealing his fate. I walk back to my Amun and look at him one last time.
I need to bury you, my love.
When I go to pick him up I see he had the journal he made of me tucked away in his jacket. Not wanting to leave the journal behind for someone to find and use, I grab it and bind it to my wrist before I pick Amun up. I walk towards the lake and will the water to separate allowing me to walk down to the center of the lake. Once I make it to the spot I place Amun down. I kiss his forward one last time, "My sweet boy" I say before I hold my hand out and use my power to have him sink into the dirt, fully burying him.
I lay beside him now, with the intention of ending my life and resting beside him for eternity. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, something was stopping me like there was someone in my ear telling me no. So, still intending on resting beside my son, I decide that if I'm too cowardly to end it now, I don't deserve to remember him in case I wake up:
Forget me not
Forget me now
Forget the past
Forget the sound
Forget the memories
Forget the love
Forget it all
Forget it now
As I finish the spell, I feel myself begin to fade away and sink to the ground. The water released and is slowly filling the lake back up; I find comfort in my last lingering memory of my son's laughter before I'm completely asleep.
---------------------------------
The Vibe:
Labrinth & Zendaya - I'm Tired (From “Euphoria” An HBO Original Series – Lyric Video)
"Millie wake up!" That is all I hear before I feel water being poured on me.
The sudden feel of cold water all over me jolted me awake. I sit up completely dazed; my eyes were fuzzing and my ears wear slightly ringing. Eventually, the ringing faded and my eyes clear up. I look around and see Wanda sitting next to me, looking like she has seen a ghost, "Are you okay?" She asks, "Fuck you are still steaming, does that hurt? I thought the water would help," she says concerned.
"I'm okay," I say plainly.
"Are you?" she says. I look to her with expressionless eyes and nod.
My body feels numb, it's because of the lightning... No, I remember...
"Did it work? Do you remember?" She asks
"I remember everything," I say beginning to cry, "My son..." I say holding my stomach, I feel like I'm going to throw up, "Oh god my son" I say sobbing
Hi, Mr. Gaiman, I just wanted to double-check because I am paranoid about accidentally crossing the picket line, but watching G.O. season 2 is a good thing, yes? I figure that even though you can't really promote much because of the strike and all, us watching it and driving views up not only provides everyone more money but also shows there is 1000% a demand for the show and your work, meaning companies gotta actually give strikers what they want. I think I already have got it, I just figure it is best to check these things to make sure I am doing right by everyone striking.
(also i love your work and you are a very cool person ok thank you byeeeee)
Nobody has asked you to boycott any streamers yet, and for right now watching Good Omens and giving Amazon an incentive to make more (and do a deal with the WGA and the actors) is important.
“If this hurts my shows I’m gonna riot” “they better not cancel my favorite show” “this is so selfish I NEED this show” “what about my mental health now that they—“
So you agree. Show-writers are important to you and to the industry and should be compensated accordingly for their important work.
I sit on the balcony of my therapist's apartment, I can hear the busy city streets below us and the fluttering wings of birds in the sky. We've been doing this for a few weeks now, and each session brings me closer to healing but it's only an inch at a time to a mile-long worth of trauma.
I sit in my seat obviously unable to see the sun but I can feel the warm summer heat grace my face. My therapist hands me a joint and I take a deep inhale, feeling the familiar calming effect of the ✨jazz lettuce✨. She is definitely an "out-there" professional technically no longer licensed but she continues to work with associates of Japan's underground crime syndicates; she for whatever reason, relates well to us criminals (both past and current). She was a small, unassuming woman who has been described to me as a 'Sweet gal, with tired eyes and a perpetually weary expression'
We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before my therapist speaks up. "So, Ari, what's been on your mind since our last session? How have the nightmares been lately?" My therapist asked
"They're back," I admitted, throwing my head back and exhaling dramatically "It's like I'm reliving everything again."
She nodded. "Tell me about it. What's been coming up for you?"
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "It's always the same thing. The night I had to take out the Hive. In my dreams, It's like it's all happening again, and I can't stop it."
My therapist leaned forward, her eyes never leaving mine. "You need to lay it all out on the table, Ari. You can't keep pushing it down and pretending it never happened. It's always going to be there, lurking in the background until you deal with it head-on."
I knew she was right, but it was hard to hear. I didn't want to relive those memories, to feel the pain and the guilt and the shame all over again. But I also knew that I couldn't keep living like this, trapped in my own head, reliving my nightmares every night.
"I know," I said finally. "I just... I don't know how to start."
"Start with the beginning," my therapist said gently. "Just lay it all out, explain it to me as if I have never heard of the Yakuza"
And so I did.
My father was an assassin, a highly skilled one at that. He was on a mission to take out a house of child sex traffickers, most of their victims were between the ages of 10-16. I was 1 years old at the time, I learned later in life that I was the daughter of one of the trafficked children. She died of malnourishment just days before we were saved; they planned to raise me into the sex trade as I was a "Rare Find" in the Japanese child trafficking market, and , not many black children were involved.
Fortunately for me, my father Tanaka found me. All of the children that were saved were going to be home with families in the area except me. I was deemed unwanted by the community because of my color. He without a word took me and raised me as his own.
My father was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes. He had been orphaned and living on the streets at a young age but managed to work his way into the yakuza and up the ranks; eventually, he became a respected member of the criminal organization.
He was a solitary man who preferred to keep to himself, but when he took me under his wing, he became a dedicated and loving father. He was tough on me, and he taught me what he knew, albeit not the best practice to teach your daughter the *art* of assassination. When I went blind he was nothing but caring he got me Yukio for additional support, but he did not let up on me one bit, he treated my blindness as an obstacle, not a disability.
Despite his gruff exterior, my father had a deep love for me, I think I was the only one that understood him. He was fiercely protective of me and would do anything to keep me safe. We were inseparable, and even when we weren't working together, we spent all of our free time together. Granted, we did a lot of...questionable things. Assassinations, kidnappings, drug deals. You name it, we did it. But I cherished every moment I had with him.
"You say 'had'?" she questions, "Is he no longer with us?"
I take another hit from my joint and try to hold back some of my tears, "I'm not ready to talk about it yet, is that okay?" I exhale and sniffle a bit
"Of course, would you like to continue, or do you need a break?"
"I'm okay," I say
"Proceed" she gave me the floor once again.
Together we climbed the hierarchy of the yakuza, and he eventually became a boss. There was pushback about me being a member of the Yakuza due to my blindness but I soon proved to be a force to be reckoned with. We ran an empire together for a few years before the night of my merciless execution of the Hive. The night I became Kokushibyō, the Black Death.
The Hive was a clan of assassins from a rival gang in Japan. They were known to be ruthless and cunning, and they specialized in kidnappings and assassinations of rival gangs and political figures in Japan. One night, they kidnapped the daughter of one of our allies, the Yakuza boss called Nomad. As a sign of good faith, my father sent me and my team to retrieve the kidnapped girl the boss.
But things didn't go as planned. We were ambushed and my entire team was killed. It was just me left to finish the mission by myself. I was outnumbered, but I manage to take out nearly 100 men on my own and retrieved the child before reinforcements came.
I killed so many people that night. And the worst part is, I didn't feel anything. I was just...numb. Like I was in a trance," I say, my eyes filling with tears.
That night changed everything for me. I was traumatized by the experience and realized that I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't be an assassin, not after what had happened. So, I retired from the business, much to my father's disappointment. But he understood, in his own way. He loved me, and he knew that I had to do what was right for me. I found a love for cooking so I moved out here and built my restaurant. I'm living a good life, I love my business, and my dog, even this Jujustu stuff is kinda cool, and yet I still feel empty, worthless, and scared.
"Scared of what?" She asks
"That I'm a monster..."
"Ari, you are not a monster. The fact that you feel remorse for your actions and worry about your impact on others shows that you have a conscience and are a caring person."
"But I killed so many people that night. I don't think I can ever forget what I did."
"It's understandable to feel that way, but you have to understand that you were doing what you had to do to protect someone. You were acting in self-defense and defense of others. It's not like you went out of your way to harm innocent people."
"But I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the violence and the power I had over them."
"That doesn't make you a monster either. It's natural to feel a rush of adrenaline and excitement in situations like that. It's important to recognize those feelings and work on managing them, but it doesn't make you a bad person."
I sigh and wipe my tears, "Thank you, I needed to hear that"
After another 20 mins, we wrap up our session, and I Uber to Jujustu Tech. I've been at this now for about 6 months and it's honestly not so bad; working with these kids brings me joy, and reminds me of me and my father when we would train together.
Bittersweet
Today, I prepare for my training sessions with the teachers and other sorcerers. It's become a weekly routine for me and just about everyone has had at least one session with me. I take pride in my ability to train others in combat and weapons, despite my blindness.
Atsuyu, however, refuses to come back. I think I may have scared him a bit. He probably thought he would have the upper hand with me since I can't see, but I've become an excellent swordsman through years of training.
Shoko is a regular attendee and we've become good friends over time. She may not be the best fighter, but I've seen improvement in her skills.
Ijichi is another regular attendee who surprised me with his combat skills. He may appear timid at first, but he's actually a powerhouse in combat.
Mei Mei and the principal have also come to a few sessions. It's been fun working with them individually and seeing their progress. Overall, I enjoy these training sessions and the opportunity to share my skills with others.
As for Gojo and Nanami not so much. Gojo claims he's the best jujutsu sorcerer and doesn't need any help or notes. Typical Gojo. As for Nanami, he's been completely silent since our fight months ago. I'm afraid I might have crossed a line with him. He hasn't said a word to me since that day. It's been bothering me, but I don't know what to do about it.
I put Yukio on her leash and stepped out of my apartment, I couldn't help but feel the sun beating down on my skin. It was one of the hottest days of the summer, and I had to come up with a way to combat the heat. I decided to wear a pleated mini skort and white cropped top, paired with a set of white heels that strap around my ankles. The outfit was minimalistic, yet practical enough to keep me cool. My hair was braided up into long box braids, a protective hairstyle for the heat.
On my back was a mini backpack, which had all my training attire inside. It was Sunday afternoon, and I had to make my way to the training rooms. I was so engrossed in my thoughts about the new dish I had been experimenting with that I didn't even notice someone was closely approaching me until almost too late.
I take a deep breath to steady myself as Mr. Nanami's scent fills my nose. Evergreen and lemons. He always smells like that. "Mr. Nanami," I say, trying to keep my voice even.
He seems taken aback that I recognized him. "You knew it was me?"
I nod, even though I know he can't see it. "Your scent is very distinct," I explain. "Plus, I remember your voice from our fight."
There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. "I see," he says, still sounding surprised. "I apologize for startling you."
"It's okay," I say, shrugging it off. "I was lost in thought, so it's not your fault."
I hear him take a step closer to me. "What were you thinking about?" he asks, his voice low.
I hesitate for a moment before answering. "A new dish I've been experimenting with," I say. "I'm thinking about adding it to the menu at my restaurant."
There's a pause before he speaks again. "What kind of dish is it?"
I grin, excited to talk about my cooking. "It's a fusion dish," I explain. "A mix of Japanese and Jamaican flavors. Jerk chicken with a miso glaze."
He lets out a small awkward chuckle. "That sounds interesting."
Is he nervous?
"Did you need me for something?" I ask curiously, as I bend down and unleash Yukio. She goes to her usual spot by the window.
"I owe you an apology," he says suddenly. "I underestimated you as a fighter and let my pride get in the way. I've been avoiding you for the past six months because I was ashamed and embarrassed."
I am taken aback by his words. I never thought he would apologize to me. "No, Mr. Nanami, it's me who should apologize. I went too far in our sparring session, and I'm sorry."
He chuckles, "We're both apologizing to each other, it seems. Let's just call it even and move on, shall we?"
I nod, feeling relieved, "I'd like that," I say smiling
"Great," he says, "Well, while I'm here would you mind training with me today?"
"Yes!" I say maybe a little more excited than I should have. I calm down and smoothly say "Uh yea. Just let me change into proper clothes real quick."
He clears his throat, "Of course" he responds
I quickly gather my things and head to the women's locker room slipping into my athletic attire, feeling the smooth fabric against my skin. The outfit is lightweight and easy to move in, perfect for my training sessions. I slip on a pair of sneakers and throw my hair into one giant braid.
When I return to the training area, Nanami is already there, warming up with a few stretches. I take a deep breath and walk over to him, ready to get started. We ease into my training routine practicing our punches and kicks, working on our endurance, and building our core. I take a step back and observe Nanami's form, listening to his movements.
As I stand behind Mr. Nanami, I can feel the tension in his body when he throws his punches. I can sense that his form is wrong, and I can't help but want to step in and help him.
"Stop" I semi command, "Your form is wrong," I say stepping towards him. "Is it okay if I help position you?" I ask gesturing my hands
"Sure" He responds
As I reach out to fix his form, my hand brushes against his arm, and I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through my body. I move him into position, adjusting his stance and correcting his form. As I do, I can feel his body tense up at first, but then he relaxes under my touch.
There's an unspoken tension between us, and I can't help but feel a rush of emotions. I'm not sure if it's the intimacy of the moment or if there's something more between us. But I push those thoughts aside and focus on helping him.
After a few more adjustments, I step back and let him continue the routine. Eventually, we wrap up our training session, and Nanami and I move into a cool-down workout to relax our muscles. As we were stretching, he asked me for some feedback on his performance.
I take a deep breath and think for a second before I replied, "Mr. Nanami, your punches are powerful, but your form is off. You need to relax more, be more fluid." I pause for a moment before continuing, "You're a tense fighter," I replied. "That's great when you're on the defensive, but you need to be more adaptable. You have to be able to make fast, small, delicate movements; adapt to your opponent's movements, not just overpower them. I hope you don't mind me saying this but I think you could benefit from some more regular training sessions," I said, tentatively.
"I agree, Ari. I can see that I have a lot to learn from you. Your combat skills are impressive, it's almost inspiring." he says
I couldn't help but smiles and blush at that little statement, I turn my head away before responding, "Thank you, Mr. Nanami"
We exchanged a few more pleasantries before parting ways
After Nanami left, I spent another hour training with my karambit blades. The sound of metal clashing against metal was music to my ears as I worked on my techniques. However, my concentration was interrupted when I heard a commotion somewhere in the school. It was distant, but it was enough to catch my attention. Weapons in hand I make my way to the commotion with Yukio close behind me.
As the sound of chaos and destruction filled the air, I could sense that something was terribly wrong. Suddenly, I heard screams and the sound of glass shattering. I rushed to the source of the noise, with my blades up in a defensive position. As I arrived, I hear two people in the heat of a vicious fight. From the sound and smell of it, it was Nanami and.
Yuji?
But he sounds different and he smells different.
Could this be the cursed spirit that lives inside him? Sukuna....
Nanami was trying to contain Yuji as best as he could but was eventually kicked into a wall completely stunned. I knew I had to act fast to save him," Yukio Stay' I command before approaching. With a burst of adrenaline, I charged forward and slashed at Sukuna with my karambit knives. The sound of metal clashing against bone filled the air as I fought to keep him away from Nanami.
Despite my blindness, I could feel the tension and power of Sukuna's attacks. But I also knew that I had to protect Nanami at all costs. I could hear him groaning in pain, and I knew that I had to do everything in my power to keep him alive.
For the first few moments, I felt like I was holding my own. I was able to dodge Sukuna's attacks and land a few strikes of my own. But soon enough, I realized that it was a lost cause. Sukuna was simply too powerful.
Despite my best efforts, I found myself getting worn down. He was relentless, and I couldn't keep up. My movements became sluggish, and my attacks lacked their usual precision. It was as if all my training and experience had been for nothing.
Sukuna's attacks were powerful and relentless, and I could feel my strength fading fast. I knew I needed to do something, anything, to protect Nanami. So, I made a quick decision and used my body as a shield while yelling at Yukio, "YUKIO GET HELP! AGHk-" Sukuna's cursed energy hit me hard, and I felt the searing pain of his attack, but I held on tight, refusing to let go. I can hear Yukio running out barking for help as Sukuna continues to attack me several times back to back.
Hopefully, I can buy him some time.
Sukuna surprisingly stops and takes a step back, "I admire your tenacity, little warrior," Sukuna chuckles, feeling the power struggle within Yuji's body. "You fought with such ferocity, even to protect someone who you barely know"
"Fuck off!" I hiss
"Ha! I like your spirit, girl," Sukuna says, amused. "You fought like a true warrior, and I was honored to spar with you."
Breathless and defeated, I lay on the ground, waiting for Sukuna to strike me down. But to my surprise, he stopped and spoke.
"You're quite skilled, for a human. But despite your amazing skill you fight at a disadvantage, you have the potential to be so much more." I hear him grunt in irritation, "Damn brat. I don't have much time doll, I can feel the brat fighting back for control, so before I go I'd like to leave you with a parting gift."
"Keep your fucking gif-" I say before getting snatched up by my hair. I scream out in pain as he forcefully holds my head back. I then hear him bite his hand and hold it over my face. He began to drip blood onto my face and into my mouth. He held me so tight that I couldn't fight back. He then practically throws me down to the ground, I couldn't react in time so I hit the concrete hard. I try to raise my body and stand but stumble back down to my knees as I start to feel an intense rush of euphoria coursing through my veins. It's a feeling I've never experienced before, and for a moment, I'm lost in its intoxicating embrace.
But just as quickly as the feeling comes, it's gone, replaced by a searing pain in my eyes. It's like someone is squeezing them in a vice, and I can feel a burning sensation spreading through my head.
I try to rub my eyes to ease the pain, but it only seems to make it worse; fortunately, the pain finally subsides after a few minutes. I blink several times in disbelief. Colors and shapes begin to form before my eyes, and I realize that I can see. At first, everything was just a blur of colors and shapes. I couldn't make out anything clearly, but I could see light for the first time in years. It was overwhelming and painful, like needles poking into my eyes. I squinted and rubbed them, trying to adjust to the sudden influx of visual information. As my eyes gradually adapted, the shapes and colors began to coalesce into recognizable forms
I looked down at my hands and saw them in a whole new light. I had gotten used to not being able to see them, but now they were right in front of me, and I could see every detail. The lines on my palms, the curve of my fingers, the scars and calluses from years of training. It was overwhelming.
"What did you do," I asked with tears welling up in my eyes starting to freak out from this sudden miracle.
Can you call it a miracle?
Sukuna smirks. "Until we meet again, little warrior" With that, Sukuna's control over Yuji weakens, and he disappears, leaving Yuji in control again.
The Vibe:
YKWIM?-Yot Club
I couldn't believe it, I had my sight back after 10 years. But it was too much for me to handle all at once. The light was blinding and everything was too vivid. My senses were heightened to an almost unbearable level. I could smell every single scent in the air, hear every single sound around me, and feel every single texture on my skin. I was completely overwhelmed and overstimulated.
The taste of blood was still in my mouth and it was even stronger now, like it was amplified along with my other senses. I was hyper-aware of every drop of blood on my skin and Mr. Nanami's as well. I couldn't even stand the sound of my breathing. It was all too much.
Feeling like I was about to lose control, I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my hands. It helped a little, but I could still feel the overwhelming sensations. I needed to take a moment to collect myself before I could face what was happening.
Yuji approached slowly, his voice shaking as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt anyone," he said, his eyes filled with tears. "I couldn't control myself. Sukuna took over."
I could hear the fear and remorse in his voice, but I couldn't bear to look at him, "Please stay back, Yuji," I said, my voice shaky. "Please, just stay back." I tried to stand up, but my legs felt weak and shaky, and I stumbled.
Nanami grabbed my arm, using his other hand to support himself as we leaned on each other. "We need to get out of here," he said, his voice strained. "Yuji, help us." Nanami placed his hand gently on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. "Ari, it's okay. Sukuna is gone now. Yuji is back in control," he said soothingly.
I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes, feeling a little more in control of my senses. I could see Nanami's worried expression and Yuji's somber one. I looked down at my hands and saw them shaking, covered in my own blood and Sukuna's.
"I... I can see," I said, still in disbelief. "It's been so long." Suddenly I hear barking and someone running. I look and see Yukio and Shoko.
Shoko rushes over to us and immediately starts checking on Nanami's injuries, quickly working to stop his bleeding and stabilize him. She then turns her attention to me, I'm still visibly shaken and overstimulated from the sudden return of her sight.
Shoko starts talking to me in a soft, soothing tone, trying to calm me down and assess my condition. She asks me questions about how I'm feeling and what I'm experiencing, and I try my best to answer her, though my mind is still reeling from everything that's happened.
After a few moments, Shoko administers a sedative to help me calm down and rest. As the medication starts to take effect, my senses begin to dull, and the overwhelming sensations start to fade away.
I feel a sense of relief wash over me as I start to relax, knowing that Shoko is here to take care of us and that we're in good hands. After I've calmed a bit I stand and pick up Yukio; as I hold my dog in my arms, tears streaming down my face. Yukio nuzzles into my chest, and I can feel her little heart beating against mine. For a moment, I forget about the chaos that just happened and the pain in my body. It's just me and Yukio, reunited after all this time.
I bury my face in her fur, taking in her scent and feeling her warmth against me. It's a small moment of peace amid all the chaos. And for that, I'm grateful.
Shoko and Yuji look at me with concern, but they don't say anything. They know I need this moment with my dog. After a few minutes, I finally pull away from Yukio and wipe my tears, "Where are the others?" I ask
"Come I'll take you to them," Shoko says
Yuji helps Nanami up and we all walk to regroup with everyone else. We make it to the infirmary where the others were, fortunately, it was only a few of us; Nanami, Yuji, Shoko, Panda, Inumaki, Nobara, Megumi, Ijichi, and myself. No one is dead, just a lot of injuries. Everyone checks in with each other nursing each other's wounds. I stay with Nanami as Shoko attends to Nanami's wounds; she wraps up with him and moves to the next person.
As I look at Nanami, tears begin to stream down my face. "Is everyone going to be okay?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Nanami looks at me with a reassuring smile. "Yes, we'll all be fine. We'll recover quickly don't worry" he says.
"Okay," I say beginning to feel nauseous because of the strong scent of blood
Nanami puts a hand on my shoulder. "Ari, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face.
I shake my head, my eyes still brimming with tears. "No, not really. This was extremely triggering for me. The smell of blood is making me sick and I'm feeling pretty overstimulated and a bit manic. I need to go home." I confess.
"I don't think you should be alone right now. I'm worried about you." Nanami responds, "What can I do to help?"
"Can-Can you help me get home?" I ask weakly
"Of course" He raises out of his seat and grunts a little from the pain before standing, "Come" He puts his jacket over me and Yukio while wrapping an arm around me to help me walk, I sense he needed the help too, "I'm taking Ari home," he said with a tone that said don't ask questions. Everyone looked concerned but nodded in agreement.
Nanami leads me to his car and opens the door to the passenger side and help me in my seat; he even went as far as to buckle me in. He then climbed in next to me and closed the door, grunting slightly, and began to pull out of the parking lot of the school. The drive was about 20 min, It's almost overwhelming to see everything in such detail after being blind for so long. As we drive down the road, I can see people walking on the sidewalk, cars passing us by, and buildings towering up to the sky. We arrive outside my home and although the rides calmed me down a bit I couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that I had been carrying with me since my encounter with Sukuna. I didn't want to be alone right now, not after everything that had happened. So, I turned to Mr. Nanami and simply say, "Stay with me? Just for the night? I don't know why but I don't feel safe."
At first, he hesitates to answer but finally just nods yes in response, bringing me a sense of relief.
I lie awake in bed, on my back and limbs sprawled out like a starfish; thinking about last night's strange series of events.
Fucking sorcerers. They're just damn wizards without hats.
"Strange people," I say out loud to myself, "Yukio, we're gonna go into the city today," I say out loud waiting for her to come to me. I feel her jump up on me and rest in my lap; I pet her and continue, "We'll go for a walk, maybe stop at our favorite ice cream shop. How does that sound?" Yukio wiggles her tale and licks my hand in excitement.
I get up and begin my morning routine feed Yukio, eat 2 bananas, shower, brush my teeth, and throw some loose curls in my hair. The great thing about Japan's winter months is that I can wear my hair down without frizz-altering humidity. I'll throw some box braid in a few months to prepare for the summer heat.
I walk to my closet and hold my hand out feeling for the tags on my hung-up outfits. Each outfit is put together and hung in garment bags along with a shoe that matches; Each bag has a permanent tag written in brail so I can tell which is which. I have a personal shopper who specializes in helping the blind; she comes in and organizes my closet every once in a while, occasionally swapping out old outfits for new ones.
I find the label of one outfit,
Chunky black leather ankle boots|
Stone-washed, high-waisted capri jeans
Forest green knitted long-sleeve halter tank top
Long black overcoat
I'm 25 now and it's been about 10 years since I lost my sight, I can barely remember what colors look like, and my memories have faded a bit. I told my shopper to pick whatever and that,
'I'm blind but I still wanna look hot
I get dressed and grab my sling bag with my essentials, wallet, keys, and my foldable cane and pack my bag; as well as leash up Yukio and begin our walk. We do our usual stroll in the city walking past several markets and shops and listening to people laugh and gossip like no one is listening. It was a nice little hour and a half of constant eavesdropping; some people watch the Kardashians I go and ear hustle the streets.
We stop at the ice cream shop and I decided to just get a vanilla milkshake and grab Yukio a puppy cone to enjoy. We sit outside the shop on a bench enjoying our cold treats when my phone vibrates and begins to speak a text to me,
TEXT FROM KAI
Hey boss, can you stop by and sign for delivery? They are refusing to release our product until the owner signs off.
DO YOU WANT TO REPLY?
"Yes," I say
REPLY NOW
"I'm about a 10 min walk away, be there asap"
ARE YOU READY TO SEND IT?
"Yes" I reply
I put my phone back in my bag and stand up, "Come on Yukio gotta stop by work real quick" I say to her as we navigate to my restaurant.
When I arrive I hear Kai arguing with the delivery boy in the foyer of the restaurant.
"I'm sorry it's a part of our new policy," the boy says
"You think you could have notified us first? Our owner is blind she needs to know these things ahead of time"
"Kai," I say, "Thank you, I can take it from here. Wait out here with Yukio for me?
"Yes ma'am," he says before taking Yukio's leash
I walk into the building and throw my customer service voice on, "Hi how can I help you?" I ask
"Are you the owner?" he asks
"I am"
"I thought the owner was blind"
"Well, that was incredibly ignorant." I say pulling out my cane for a little bit of flair, "Is this better?"
The delivery boy clears his throat and hands me a clipboard and a pen, "I'm sorry ma'am, can you please sign for this?"
"Yes," I say taking the pen and board, "Can you guide me where to sign?" he takes my hand with the pen and places it on the board prompting me to sign there.
"Where should I unload these?"
"Take them to the kitchen, Kai will guide you, and for now on Kai can sign off on these. Thank you" I say before walking out "All taken Care of, you now have the authorization to sign off," I say holding my hand out for Yukio's leash.
Kai places the leash in my hand, "Thank you, boss, sorry for the inconvenience"
"It's no problem, honestly. The delivery boy is going to unload in the kitchen, you got it from here?"
"Yes ma'am! Have a great day!" he says before walking away inside
I let out a long sigh, before turning around and beginning to walk away.
I hear someone clear their throat from my side, "Excuse me Miss" a man says causing me to stop in my tracks and look at him, "Kiyotaka Ijichi. Gojo sent me to pick you up for your interview"
Gojo?
"Um?... What interview?" I ask
"The interview for the Combat Specialist position," he says a little nervous
Not this shit again
"I already turned down his little offer. The answer is no"
"Ma'am I-"
"You know what, call him please?" I politely demand
"Yes Ma'am" he obliges rather quickly.
The phone rings twice before Gojo Answers, "Gojo Mrs. Himari-"
I quickly take the phone from his and put it to my ear, "Gojo what the hell man"
"Heyyyy! Ari, what's up?"
"Don't play dumb, what weird shit is this? Why is there a man waiting for me outside my business, I could have sworn I told you no, did I not? "
"You did. Come on, at least come to the interview and check it out."
"Why? Why would I do that? I don't need a job"
"Because It'll be fun. You seem like you could use a little fun. I saw the way you fought it was natural for you, even with being blind. You can't tell me you aren't a little bored with your mundane life? I have a feeling you weren't always this 'humdrum'"
I scoff, "Oh whatever, don't pretend you know me, asshole."
"Come on, will it kill you to humor me?"
I hold my head back and rub my brow bone in frustration, "If I say yes will you leave me alone?"
"Yes," he says rather quickly
"Was that a lie?" I follow up
"Yes" he laughs
"Goodbye Gojo," I say before handing Ijichi the phone, "Hang up on his ass"
"Yes Ma'am"
"Take me to this damn interview" I sigh and check my attitude, "Please" I add
"Right away Ma'am," he says before opening a car door
"Yukio you first," I say. I hear her climb into the car and follow her.
Ijichi closes the door for me and climbs into the front seat, "Jujustu High is in the outskirts of Tokyo, we'll be about 20 min okay Ma'am"
"Okay, thank you," I lean my head on the cool window pain and relax for the short car ride.
-----------------------------------------------
When we arrived I could smell the blossoming trees and fresh air. We must be near tons of trees and greenery. Ijichi leads me and Yukio through the halls of this supposed school; after a few more turns we stop and Ijichi opens up a door, "I have been instructed to go only this far. Please navigate yourself to your seat the principal will be with you shortly"
I bend down and unleash Yukio as well as pull out my cane, to help with the walk, "Thank you" I say before walking forward through this big room and eventually making my way into a seat with Yukio sitting beside me on the floor. There we wait for about 10min before I hear a large man walk through the room and sit behind the desk that rests in front of me.
"Himari Sanada?" he asks
"In the flesh" I dryly respond
"Principal Yaga, nice to meet you," he says, "Gojo says you're a natural fighter"
"I suppose, I am"
"How open are you to sparring with some of us?"
"You want me to fight you?"
"Yes, no point in getting further into the conversation until after I see your skills. The position is for combat not speech"
"Well, I'd really rather not. I have warded off senseless violence, Unless absolutely necessary."
"Is that because of your previous occupation?"
"Okay, so not only have I been stalked at my place of work, but you've also looked into my past. Don't get it twisted just because of what you read, you still know shit about me" I say showing my frustration
"I know you're the adopted daughter of former Yakuza boss Tonaka, at the ripe age of 6 you began training with your father, and by age 11 you were running point on missions for him, I know you lost sight due to a degenerative optic nerve condition at the age of 15 and that somehow you came out from that horrible fate stronger than ever. They called you Kokushibyō, the Black Death. You were a career criminal, an assassin"
"What are you getting at?" I dryly ask
"Mrs. Senada, every day these cursed spirits get worse and worse and jujutsu sorcerers are becoming even more of a rare breed. Last year the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, we lost nearly a hundred of our Sorcerers in that battle. As we raise the next class of fighters I see that they are lacking in hand-to-hand combat and weapons proficiency. Our children are dying, we need help."
I breathe in and cross my arms while rubbing my neck.
"I was almost hopeless and then I hear of a blind girl who was able to not only navigate her way through a curses pocket dimension but then went to kill said curse that she couldn't even see. You didn't have a cursed tool, which leads me to believe you have mounds of cursed energy within you. You seem like you want to live a good life, like a good person, and that you don't want to hurt anyone anymore and I want that for you but why let your skills waste away when you make good use of them?"
I sigh loudly and roll my eyes, "Fuck you for making me feel" I say in disgust, "If I agree, we do it my way, How many students?"
"Nine total, but we want you to focus on the first years for now; Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, & Nobara Kugisaki "
"Okay, who's currently in charge of teaching them?"
"Kento Nanami part-time grade 1 sorcerer, from time to time teaches hand to hand; took the time to personally train Yuji Itadori, who is probably the most skilled out of the three of them. As for weapons, Atsuya Kusakabe grade 1 sorcerer, and teacher here; skilled swordsman but no honor, he would 100% leave you behind if it meant saving his own skin."
"Noted." I stand up and dust my pants off and grab my cane, "Well if we are gonna do this, I'd like to fight the first years as well as Mr. Nanami."
"Why not Atsuya as well?" he asks
"Well from what you just told me, I've got a clear understanding of what kind of fighter and man he is. A coward and cowards are shit fighters" I respond. Yaga says nothing but laughs under his breath as stands leading me out of his office.
He leads Yukio and me outside to what I assume is an open field by the feel of the grass under my feet. Eventually, we come to a stop and I hear a few familiar voices, "ARI!!!" I hear Gojo yell, "Are you ready to tussle?" He asks.
"Are you ready to shut the hell up?" I snarkily say. Next to him, I hear the smallest most hidden chuckle coming from Gojo's side.
"Ouch right in the heart, why don't you like me?" he asks fawning sweetness
"Because you're annoying" I laugh at him
"She's right," Nanami says, he must have been the one who chuckled
"Ari, glad you came!" Yuji says before hugging me
Fucking golden retriever
"Down boy." I laugh
"Sup," Nobara says, "You can't see him but our black cat is next to me. Say hi Megumi"
"Hi" The boy plainly says, "Is that your dog?" he says with a hint of excitement
"Hey, girl, nice to meet you Megumi, yes this is Yukio" I respond, "You can pet her". Megumi quickly takes me up and that offer and kneels down and pets her head.
I listen around me a little further and hear that there are a few other people there whose voices I don't recognize.
Principal Yaga speaks up, "Fushigoru, Itadori, & Mrs. Kugisaki front and center." he commands. The three take their time making their way to the center of the field near Yaga. "You three one at a time will fight Mrs. Senada. The match will be over once one of you are unable to continue."
"No need for one at a time, all at once is fine" I chime in folding my cane away and taking off my coat, and placing them on the ground with my sling bag; I begin to approach the others, stopping when I stand in front of the first years.
"Okay, then you heard her," Yaga says walking away, "You may begin"
"Umm this doesn't seem fair," Megumi says a little unsure, "You're blind and it's three against one"
"Worry about yourself," I say, "attack when you're ready"
The Vibe:
Swamp Bitches-Doechii, Rico Nasty
We all stand there for a few minutes, I hear them contemplate and whisper amongst themselves
"Itadori, you bulldoze and rush ahead, you've got the strength for it, Kugisaki and I all will come around the sides"
I'm sure they think I can't hear them.
"On the count of the 3. 1..2..3!"
Itadori quickly approaches throwing several punches, I manage to bob and weave between his attempts and block his last hit with my forearm, which hurt like hell; he's definitely got the strength and the speed but he's sloppy as hell. While blocking his hit with my arm I take my free hand and punch him in the side causing Itadori to topple over in pain; I finish him off with a right hook and he falls to the ground.
Finally making her move, I feel Kugisaki come up behind me and try to restrain my wrists; while she was focused on my hands I took the opportunity to knock my head back hitting her in the face. She let go suddenly in pain and I swiftly back kicked her in the stomach.
I hear Fushigoru rush toward me and decide to run towards him head-on; just as we were about to meet I used the momentum from the dash to drop kick him in the chest knocking him back to the ground. From the force of my kick, I fall down too but quickly recover rolling back and making my way to my feet.
Taking a second to assess the situation, I listen and hear Itadori sound asleep, I must have knocked him out. Kugisaki is on the ground trying to stand back up but not finding the strength in her legs. Lastly, I focus on Fushigoru and hear him coughing and gasping for air.
"Your reflexes are shit," I say out loud, "Your sight is a privilege that you take advantage of and you underestimated my strength. Lots to learn," I say that last bit under my breath. I go over to Fushigoru and bend down to him, he still wheezing, I put my hand on his chest, "Calm yourself and Breathe" I say as I breathe in deeply and out slowly encouraging him to do it with me. He does and eventually, he calms down a bit, "You and Nobara most likely have bruised ribs, take it easy and go help her up" I say standing up and holding my hand out to help him up. He walks away holding his chest.
I make my way to Yuji and bend down to make sure he's okay, he's still fast asleep, "Yuji wake up" I said shaking him. After a few seconds of this, I give up, "Gojo come get your kid" I speak up a little louder, "He's not waking up any time soon; honestly, they all should go to an infirmary" I say
"I see why they called you the Black Death, quick and painful" Gojo says
That stings, I hate that fucking name
I think Yaga notices my uncomfortablity and quickly speaks up, "Gojo take your students to Shoko"
"WHAT! Why do I have to go, it's getting so good" Gojo protests
"Kugisaki and Fushigoru can't take Itadori to shoko they are clearly injured. Go and be responsible for once" Yaga plainly states
"Fine" Gojo says defeated before he basically throws Yuji over his shoulder and begins walking, "Come on you two" he says to Megumi and Nobara who follow behind.
"I thought we were friends Ari" Nobara says as she walks away
"We still are" I laugh and yell behind her.
"Alright Mr. Nanami, you're next" Yaga says
I hear him take a deep long sigh as he makes his way to the center of the field, "Lets make this quick, you know how I feel about overtime"
I softly laugh at his demeanor as I take my position on the field, "This should be good, You can start whenever" Yaga says
We stand there for several minutes sizing each other up and planning our first move, "I am a VERY patient girl and I promise you I'm not moving first 'Mr Overtime'." I say taunting him.
"Teasing me won't work. Considering one of my only friends is Gojo, I have HIGH threshold for nonsense." he quips back, "I want to go home so I suppose I'll I make the first move" He says before suddenly throwing a punch
I quickly block him but he's fast, he manages to sucker punch me in the stomach knocking me back a bit.
Fuck, he's got some strength
I hear Yukio begin to bark and growl, she thinks this is a real fight , "Yukio Stay" I command. Swiftly I recover not allowing myself to feel that pain. I advance towards him and throw a series of punches at him, starting with two at his stomach, two at his chest, and a upper cut to his face now knocking him back. I hear him grunt as he quickly regains his stance throwing a left hook in my side and his right to my face knocking me to the ground
Jesus fucking christ that hurts; I think he broke my nose, Clearly he's got speed and brute force. I need to be more agile and quick on my feet to keep up.
While down, I take the opportunity fuck with his head, "Oh god" I wine and moan, "You broke my nose you asshole; what the fuck" I begin to cry real tears (Low key does really fucking hurt).
Nanami instantly regrets his actions and comes near me to offer a helping hand, "Shit are you okay? I knew we shouldn't have done this; i was afraid you would get hur-" he says before I punch him in throat cutting him off. He instinctively grabs his neck gasping for air; I stand up over him and side kick him in the face knocking him down to the ground.
I feel my nose bleeding down my face, so i back up a few paces and swipe the blood off my face and wipe my hands in the grass, "Get up" I say before I take my hands and placing them on both sides of my nose before I quickly break my nose back in place, "Fuck me that hurts" I yell.
I hear Nanami groan and struggle to get back up, eventually he stands back and begins to speak, "That was a shitty cheap trick" he says with a raspy voice
"That was shitty is that you came into this fight thinking it was an easy win. I'm a fighter in my own right treat me like one." I say holding my hands up a defensive position.
Nanami rushes me and throws a few more punches, this time with less focus; he is pissed, "Your anger is making you sloppy" I say before grabbing his punch and twisting his wrist as I swing my legs around his neck using my weight and his to pull us down hard to the ground. I soften my land with body and quickly crawl up him resting my legs on his upper arms pinning him down and for extra measure I have a hand around his neck and my other ready to knock him unconscious if he moves, "Do you concede?" I ask. He says nothing but uses what mobility he can and taps my leg with his hand.
I take the hint and release him and roll off of him and eventually stand up. I offer a hand to him to help him up; I can tell he's hesitating, so I gesture again for him to take my hand and eventually he does. I help him stand up, this is the first time I've been this close to him and actually let myself be aware of his height and how he towers over me.
He smells so nice, like evergreen trees and lemons
"Good fight" he says to me bringing me back from my inner thoughts. Eventually he lets go of my hand and for some reason I'm a little saddened by that. Yukio makes her way to me and begs at my feet. I bend down and pick her up and reassuring that i'm okay.
"I've seen enough" Yaga says pulling both of our attentions, "You've got the job if you want it"
"I'll take it" I say, "You have me Mondays and Wenesdays for hand to hand training. Fridays for weapons and Sundays will be open to staff who want extra training. I own a restaurant so my Tuesdays and Thursdays will be dedicated to that unless discussed beforehand and Saturdays are for me."
"We followed the curse here, it unfortunately already killed the couple," Gojo says,
"Damn," Yuji says, "Well what are we waiting for lets go kill it"
"Not so fast buckaroo, Nanami and I think you two should go in alone. I wanna see where your abilities are at and whether you guys rely on Megumi too much"
"Ummm?" Nobara scoffs, "Yuji and I work just fine without that walking storm cloud. Come on let's show them" She says before walking off and Yuji follows.
"We'll follow you in after a few minutes and watch you from a distance," Nanami says
"Okay!" Yuji says in response
"Those kids are gonna get eaten alive" Gojo laughs
"Yep," Nanami replies, "Their cursed technique is great but they rely on it too much; they need to hone in their hand-to-hand combat and become more versatile with their weapons."
"Agreed, the principal is actively recruiting for a Combat Specialist, so let's see where that goes. Sighhhhh. Come on" Gojo says walking into the house with Nanami Following
-------------------------------------------
The Vibe:
Most Men-Amber Mark
'Clunk Clunk Clunk'
My cane makes that insufferable sound as I walk down the bustling streets of Tokyo. I hear the laughter and chatter coming from the restaurant with the outdoor seating on my left; and on my right, I smell a fresh brioche being taken out of the oven from the bakery on the corner.
'Click Clack, Click Clack'
The sound coming from the heels of a business women more than 30 feet away.
'I needed that report yesterday Haru; just have it turned in by 5 please' She says before hanging up abruptly.
"Yikes" I whisper to myself as I take a sip of my tea
'Clunk Clunk Clunk'
I continue walking down the street eventually turning off the right into the neighborhoods; they're much quieter than before. As I continue to walk I can hear loud sounds of downtown fade away behind me.
I'm on my way home from a long day of work at the restaurant, we debuted a new dish and the line was down the street for hours. It is now 11 past midnight and I find myself operating on autopilot on my way home. It's about a 2-mile walk from my loft to the restaurant; takes me about 30 min but I don't mind the fresh air, it's become a part of my nighttime routine honestly. It would be less draining and miles easier if I took a cab or an uber, but I need to keep my senses sharp. Every time I successfully make the walk home it's proof that I can continue to survive on my own. Navigating through one of the most busiest cities in the world is almost a near-impossible feat for a blind woman after all.
Nearing the end of my walk I begin to hear strange noises coming from the home next to mine. It sounds like a couple of people loudly talking and then the occasional scream or shriek maybe? And the smell, ughk, it was like someone put an industrial size fan in front of the city dump. I quickly find my way up the steps to my home and hurriedly unlock and open my door slamming it behind me to lock out the smell and sound.
"Phew" I sigh in relief, "Yukio!" I loudly call out. I hear the pitter-patter of clawed paws making their way across the hardwood floor and stopping at my feet. I fold my cane in itself and bend down to pet my pup. She was a midsized short-haired dog and she is my eyes, my guard, and my best friend.
"Hi, baby!" I laugh and pet her as she happily greets me, "How are you? Come on, let me feed you, sweet girl"
I walk to the kitchen and grab the dog food container that I leave on the left side of the counter. My home is very consistent with where I store my things, if it's out of place then it's lost. I live alone, I have no family, or friends that I trust in my home. Just me and my pooch and honestly I don't mind it. To live a life of quiet solitude is a near miracle considering the life I've lived. I grab her food bowl from the counter and pour some food in it and do a touch test to make sure it's enough and eventually place it down on the ground on the side of the kitchen island.
While she eats I go upstairs and change into my sleepwear for bed. Tonight is just a pair of boy shorts and an oversized T-shirt. I walk to my bathroom and brush my teeth as well as brush out my long silk press, making sure I have no knots.
I make my way downstairs and grab my stashbox as I head to the back patio with Yukio. While she runs around and does her business, I sit in my hammock and pack a bowl of the devil's jazz lettuce and begin to smoke; weed is very illegal here in Japan but the Chairperson of Japans National Public Safety is an old 'friend' of mine, so I'm not too worried.
The Vibe:
Ain't No Rest for the Wicked
I lay back in my hammock, relaxing in the cool spring air, I smell the blooming cherry blossoms in the breeze and listen to the sounds of the locusts making their music.
'Crash!'
'Fuck!' I hear someone shout from next door
I spring up and turn my head in the direction of the noise, patiently waiting for another sound. I wait for what feels like hours but in reality, no more than 10 secs before I hear another sound.
'Boom! Crash!'
'Black Flash!' I hear a boy's voice yell before I hear the sound of an isolated explosion.
I get out of my hammock and run back inside to quickly grab the closest weapon I have stashed in my home. My karambit knife, I keep it hidden behind a piece of artwork on my wall; as well as an old school train conductor's hand counter. The sound from the counter will act as my cane, but in a smaller and more discreet way; it will create small sound waves that bounce off the surrounding surface, Human Echolocation.
Walking back outside I call for Yukio and she quickly runs to me, "Guard" I command to her.
Yukio has been with me since day one of my blindness; I got her as a gift from my father when he was still alive. Freshly blinded and in the hospital bed, he told me to reach out my hand's palms out, he then handed me Yukio a tiny puppy at the time.
"From now on Himari, where you go she goes when you train she trains. The loss of your sight is merely a setback; we are warriors who use weapons, she is your weapon." My father said to me. He presented her as a tool merely in my utility belt, but I knew he also intended for her to be my friend. We trained together for years and eventually, we became an unstoppable pair on the job.
Yukio switched from her relaxed usual demeanor to her serious kill-on-demand attitude. I begin to walk towards the back gate of my yard that leads to the alleyway, Yukio quickly follows behind me making little noise.
'Tick Tick
I use the counter to gauge my surroundings, decide the area is clear, and turn left to walk to the neighbor's house. I approach the back door and get slapped in the face with some garbage smell as well as an overwhelming smell of fresh blood.
"Shit" I whisper under my breath, "Stay" I demand Yukio pointing to the doorway. I hear her quietly whimper and sit down.
'Tick Tick
From the sound of it, the house seemed huge, which makes no sense because every house in this neighborhood is about the same size. This sounds like a mansion, with so many walls, and so much empty space.
Feels wrong here
"Itadori watch out" I hear a female voice yell this time before another crash.
I take a sec to make sure there's no one nearby to ambush me and command Yukio, "Come" We quickly, but quietly, follow the sound, making lefts and rights down this maze of a home, until finally, we hear the sounds of a fight more clearly. I eventually stop at the doorway where the fight is taking place. Yukio and I hide behind the wall listening and waiting to make our next move.
"Fuck! Why does he only move when we move!!!" The girl's voice yells in a huff
"I Don't know but it's making it damn near impossible to touch," The boy says in return\
The 'It' in question is unknown to me, I hear their heartbeats pretty clearly, but 'It' had none, yet it continues to move and attack. I can tell it was physically like a person but something was off.
What is this?
Also, the smell is coming from in here as well as that fresh pool of blood in the corner on the right. I hear them continue to try to attack it together for about 10 more minutes. They were very unsuccessful, barely making contact. As they catch their breath for a minute they stand still and the room went silent.
"On 3?" the boy asks
"I guess" the girl responds
"1..2..3!" I hear them both lunge forward at the same time, but I notice that the thing locks on to him first instead of the girl knocking him back and THEN her.
That's it
I've finally had enough of this sad fight and decided to intervene, quickly Yukio and I walk up in between the girl and the boy. "Hey, y'all okay?" I simply ask starling them
"Jesus. Does it look like we are okay?" The girl snarkily replies
"I don't know" I truthfully answer in an unamused tone
"Dude, why are you here? It's like totally not safe" the boy says, "Can you even see that?" he asks and I assume points
"Nope," I say "But yall looked like you need some help"
"Well unless you can't see it, you can't fight it; and if you can't fight it, you are gonna die. So I suggest you leave with your, cute dog Lady"
"Thank you, my dog is cute," I say not being able to help myself, "You" I point at the boy, "It only moves when you move"
"No it moves when either of us moves" he retorts
"You can't tell because you guys move almost at the same time, but I guaranteed it's locked onto you man. Easy way to prove it if you just take a step forward" I say looking in the girl's direction now.
"Fine" She steps forward and the thing doesn't move one bit.
I go ahead and do the same thing and once again it doesn't move, "See" I say, "We are gonna use you as bait. You begin to run that way" I say pointing to the left, "And she will attack"
"Sounds easy to me," She says, "Thanks strange dog lady"
"Okay" He sighs, "Ready Kugisaki?"
"As I'll ever be" She replies, "On your count"
"1..2..3!" He yells and begins to run in the other direction. The thing quickly locks on and follows behind him and almost instantly knocking him down. The girl did manage to get a jump on him and begins to hit him once but she want' fast enough; as she goes to hit it again the thing grabs her by the wrist and lifts her.
"Shit" I hiss before grabbing my knife and commanding to Yukio to stay. I quickly run towards the thing and quickly slice through its arm that was holding the girl. My knife went through it like a hot knife to a stick of butter, and she and the arm drop to the floor. Not wanting to give it time to counterattack, I kneel and roll behind it slashing the back of the ankles making it fall to its knees before finally coming back around and taking its head clear off. I slide back and in a protective stance waiting for it to get back up just in case, but after about 15 secs nothing happened and I relaxed.
"Everyone okay?" I ask
"Yep" I hear the muster up
"Yea, thank you, that was kind of badass," the girl says
"Thank You " I chuckle, "Yukio, Rest" I command, "Come," I say wiping my knife on my shirt and tucking it in my shorts before I pick up Yukio to hug her. Both our heartbeats were about to burst; It's been a while since we've been this on edge, "who are you guys?" I ask
"Well I'm Nobara and he's Yuji" she replies
"Pleasure to meet you, I'm Ari" I respond, "I smell loads of fresh blood, I'm assuming that's my neighbors then?" I ask
"Unfortunately yes," Yuji says
"Figures, I think I heard them dying when I got home. There were screams and yelling but I didn't think they were getting murdered in here." I say a little guilty
"You couldn't have known," Yuji says
"Hey guys!" a random man says on the other side of the room. My head instantly turns to the new voice, "So that was unexpected" He says walking towards us. I hear that there is another set of footsteps following him, "Nanami Thoughts?"
"Nobara I'm disappointed you didn't figure it out, Yuji, I'm not surprised," another man says very bluntly
"Hey man, we aren't a full team right now, Megumi isn't hereee" Yuji complains
"Yea Megumi is the brain, Yuji the Brawn, and I'm also the brawn but hot"
The first man continues to walk towards us but specifically towards me stopping about a foot away and leaning over me looking down, "And who might you be?" He asks in a happy tone, I'd have to assume that he is smiling.
"The nosey neighbor," I say taking a step back, "Are y'all cops or something?" I ask
"We're Jujustu Sorcerers, these are our students," the other man says unentertained
My blind eyes go dead, "Welp, you lost me at sorcerer so imma go home now. Dad always said to never ask questions you don't want to know the answer to." I say holding on to Yukio and clicking my counter beginning to walk away.
'Tick Tick
Whoa, the house sounds normal now, with less room, and fewer turns, it's like my home now.
"Weird," I say a little loud quickly stopping
"The cursed spirit locked us in a pocket dimension. As soon as you stepped in, you were trapped. It was lifted when you killed it" The first man responds, "What's the clicker for?"
"She's Blind" The other man chimes in
"No she's not Nanamin," Yuji says, "There's no way"
"He's right, I'm blind. The clicker helps me echolocate" I respond
"Like a bat?" Nobara says, "Okay batgirl, slay"
"Satoru Gojo," The first man says in front of me.
We all kinda stand there for a while in awkward silence.
"Are you- are you holding your hand out right now?" I say with a STRONG hint of annoyance before holding my hand out searching for his and finally connecting with him. He vigorously shakes my hand before pulling me to the other man, "This is my Best Friend Kento Nanami, shake the woman's hand Nanamin" he says in a childish voice
The man takes my hand and firmly shakes mine; his hand easily overpowered mine, it was big and firm. Yet he had a softness to him that sent chills down my spine., "I apologize for my colleague's behavior and the loss of your neighbors"
"Thank you," I say very genuinely
"What's your name?" Gojo says
"Himari Sanada, Nice to meet you all." I say clearing my throat, "Well, if y'all don't mind, imma take my girl and going home now. I'd say it's been fun but that would be a lie soooo bye." beginning to walk away
'Tick Tick
"Hey, you need a job? We're looking for a new combat specialist, our students are lacking in that area if you couldn't tell"
"No thanks. I've got a job good night" I say waving my hand before leaving all behind.
I was on the ground in Namor's arms when I came to. He is holding me tight and his head is resting on my chest; I hear him whispering something under his breath and I think he may be crying, "What's the matter, my love?"
He looks up at me startled, eyes red and cheeks tear-stained, "Oh thank the gods" He says dropping his back on my chest in relief, "I went too far, you fainted. I'm so sorry Millaenyia"
"You didn't go too far" I softly laugh, "I liked every bit of it; I would and could have stopped you if it was too much. Namor baby, Look at me" he groans in my chest "K'uk'ulkan" he finally looks at me with his sad eyes, "I am fine I swear," I say playing with his hair
"Are you sure?"
"Positive" I smile attempting to get up, "Besides," I pause as Namor helps me stand on my feet, "I wanna do all of that" I gesture to the window "Again and again, and again, and ag-"
"You are insatiable" he finally laughs and relaxes, "I thought I hurt you," He says scooping me up and placing me on the bed, "We should sleep"
"I don't want to sleep," I say playing with his V-line, "I want more" I then leave a kiss along his V-line
"Stop," he says lifting my chin, "You need rest"
"I need you" I respond practically begging, "I'll be okay, I promise. You just have to be gentle this time" I pull Namor in, hugging him and resting my chin on his abs as I look up at him "Pleaseee"
Breathing in and letting out a large sigh, he places his hand on my cheek and I lean into his touch, "How can I say no when you look at me like that?" I giggle and shrug at him, "Lie down" he says to me jokingly rolling his eyes.
I crawl into the middle of the bed and lie back making myself comfortable.
Hehe I'm such a pillow princess
Namor climbs into bed and kneels in front of me; He slowly and tenderly parts my legs and throws one over his shoulder as he dips down and begins to shower my thighs with kisses. Slowly he makes his way to my clit lightly sucking and flicking me with his tongue, causing ripples of sensation to flow through my body. Namor finds a nice steady rhythm playing with my clit and occasionally dips his tongue inside me stirring up a fire within me. I reach down and grab his hair holding him in place as I grind back making myself comfortable.
It's not enough
I roughly pull his hair lifting him from my pussy so he could look at me; his eyes were glazed over and dark, "I want you" I call to him. Namor takes one last taste of my sweet juices and crawls up to me leaving kisses all over my body before he makes it to my face.
"Are you okay?" He asks looking into my eyes
I smile and nod yes, taking his dick in my hands and guiding him inside me; He takes the hint and slowly enters me until he bottoms out. I close my eyes allowing myself to fully enjoy the feeling of him inside me, "Look at me" Namor says to me with a begging tone. When I open my eyes I find him looking back at me with nothing but lust and love in his; he kisses me as he begins to start a deep and slow rhythm of thrusts never breaking eye contact. He was on top of me and yet I feel like he wasn't close enough, so I wrap an arm around his neck and lean up on my other giving myself enough leverage to match his thrust with my own. This subtle change of position allowed Namor to hit my sweet spot with every pump, I can already feel my orgasm build up inside of me and It feels good but it was too soon.
I moan out and throw my head back trying to focus on delaying my sweet release, Namor rests his head on my chest "I know baby" He says as he pulls me closer to him, helping me meet his thrusts. Namor starts to whisper things under his breath, curse words and pleasant praises, he was enjoying himself.
Deciding I want to take care of him for a change, I abruptly flip us over so I'm the one on top straddling him, "Let me take care of you" I say leaning down to him and kissing him. Lips still locked I begin to grind my hips allowing his dick to massage my tight walls.
He grabs my ass and helps me with my grind, "You're so wet, baby" he pauses, "I want to feel you cum on my dick" he whispers to me
I rise to take his hands in mine and place them on my tits as I begin to bounce and grind on his dick fully losing myself in total ecstasy. I'm so close, I feel myself tighten around him and he does too by the sound of his groan, "Cum for me Ki'ichpan"
"Oh god," I moan out as my orgasm unravels me. My legs begin to shake and I feel my pussy grip Namor as he too finishes inside me. Feeling his warm release paint my insides, a fire lights in me causing me to continue grinding and bouncing on his rock-hard dick, riding out my climax. Matching my energy Namor grabs my hips and begins to thrust hard under me making sure I take in every drop of him. After a few minutes, we finally come down from our high, sweaty, and out of breath. Slowly I raise myself off his dick, wincing from the pain caused by a combination of rough sex, overuse, and his big dick.
Namor notices and I can see the regret covering his face, "Before you say anything" I say laying beside him, "I may be in pain but I regret nothing and you shouldn't either" I say snuggling up to him.
Taking me in his arms, he lets out a sigh, "I don't like hurting you"
"I like it though" I laugh
"You are insane" he chuckles
"But I fuck like a goddess, so it works out perfectly" Namor lets out the most genuine laugh I have ever heard and it melts my heart.
I can't wait to hear that laugh for the rest of my life.
"I love you"
"I love you too" He responds.
After talking and joking for a few more minutes I drift to sleep first and Namor follows soon behind; both of us holding on to each other, never letting go through the night.
--------------
The Vibe:
Pressing Flowers
I wake up to a cold breeze and bright light peeking in through the window. I instinctively reach over looking for Namor beside me but I was alone. I open my eyes and scan the room looking for him; seeing the balcony door open and the curtains flowing through the wind I assume he went outside.
Found the breeze.
Getting up and wrapping myself in the blanket, I find Namor standing in the nude, leaning on the balcony and looking out to the city. I walk up behind him wrapping us both up in the blanket, "Public nudity could get you in some serious trouble on the surface world."
"I didn't hear you complaining last night," he says eventually turning around and wrapping me up in his arms, "Good morning my love, I trust you slept well."
"I slept great." I smile laying my head on his chest
"Good, you deserve it" Namor responds, then pausing before he continues, "I have to go home today" He says with a hint of sadness in his voice
"I hate this part," I say sighing
"Me too" he responds
Taking a deep breath I say, "That's okay the next time I see you, I'll have my shit sorted and be someone worthy to meet your people." I confidently say
"You have always been worthy"
"I wanna feel worthy" I chuckle
"I understand," he says laughing under his breath
"Ready to go?" I say as I listen to his heartbeat
"Not just yet" he responds holding me tighter. We stand there for a few more minutes before we get dressed and take a taxi back to my place. While he's getting dressed in his regular clothes in my room, I'm in the kitchen packing him a bag of leftovers, a few of my favorite books, and a pair of my panties wrapped in a scarf and sprayed with my signature perfume.
He'll appreciate that the most lol
Tucking my intimates in the bottom of the bag, I think about how we are going to be able to contact each other.
Light bulb hehe
I grab the bag run to my room and head to my closet nearly knocking Namor down in the process, "Sorry!" I say laughing and rummaging in a box in my closet.
Laughing Namor says, "What are you up to?"
"Got it!" I say, "When in college I had clinicals and they required us to use pagers, I still have a couple of my old ones. Can you give me 10, or 15 mins tops to whip something up? It'll help us communicate with each while we're far away." I say
"Of course, take all the time you need," he says smiling at me. I grab my old stark lab tools and sit on the bed tinkering away at our pagers. I Spend about 12 mins enhancing the range of the pager as well as adding a few things, "Ultra high frequency is in the range of about 300 MHz and 3 GHz, with wavelengths reaching from one meter to one decimeter. In other words," I say closing up our pagers and handing one to him "Normally these pagers transmit about as far as 2 miles away from each; that's nothing. I widened the frequency range to about 10,000 miles. So you can be home in your temple and I can be home here. I also added a voice feature so instead of just sending a message, you can record yourself saying something and I can hear it from mine."
"You fixed this up in 15 minutes?" he says impressed
"It was closer to 12 actually"
"You're amazing"
"I know," I say smiling, "Here" I hand him the bag, "I packed you some food and a few books, make sure you go through the whole bag," I said laughing to myself
"Thank you my love" He responds
We both get up off the bed and I grab my sling ring opening up a portal to his temple in front of us. "I love you," I say giving him a tight hug, "see you soon?"
"Very," he says kissing my forehead, "When you take care of your business let me know and I will prepare my people for your visit," he says smiling at me and stroking my cheek. I nod my head, acknowledging his words, "I love you" he whispers before kissing me one last time and walking through the portal. I blow a kiss and give a little wave before I close it up.
"Alone again," I say letting out a large sigh. I get an idea and pull out my pager recording a small message, "I miss you already" and with that, I take a shower and get dressed in a pair of black jeans and an oversized shirt with a pair of sneakers. I layer a long thick cream cardigan over my shirt completing my outfit. Grabbing my sling bag I pack my diary from the lake, my passport, a stack of various European cash, and my credit cards. For extra safety I also grab my leg bag and pack it with my Kunai's that the gang gave me; the bag sits at the side of my hip so it can be easily covered by my cardigan.
I grab my phone and head to the kitchen shoving down 3 granola bars then heading to Peter's room to see if he's here, "Hey Peter, you home? Just want to check in real qui-" I say opening his door and walking in on a shocking sight. Peter was asleep in bed with a white-haired woman. I slowly close the door back and freak out a little in the hallway. Pulling out my phone I send him a text:
Hey Pete, knocking at your door and no answer,
assume you were sleeping.
I'm headed to Bleeker Street,
then to Sokovia. Luv U, Call me :)
11:53 am
I'll leave out the girl for now, I'll let him come to be about that when he's ready
Finally ready I head out and take a taxi to the Sanctum Sanctorum,
Why waste energy opening a portal when we live in the same city?
It was about a 35 min drive before I arrived, I tip my driver and head to the front door, and walk right in. Aimlessly I walk around looking at the mystic relics on display, As I stroll through I begin to hear screams in my ear and it's getting louder and louder. I begin following the sound trying to pinpoint its location. As I walk through the corridor I begin to hear flapping wings and naying horses with screams; I find myself in front of a sword display where the noise is at its loudest.
I hear the screams of women, but not damsels, they sounded like a warrior's cry, "Dragonfang" I hear a familiar voice say. The sound from the sword stopped; I turn around and see Strange standing there wearing grey sweats and a sweater and holding 2 cups of coffee. He was also wearing his cloak, which by the way, was waving at me making me smile uncontrollably, "Long time no see," he says handing me a cup.
"Thank you," I say taking a sip, "What's up with this sword"
"Dragonfang is the sword of a fallen valkyrie from Asgard. It has the tendency of calling out to powerful women, looking for a new wielder." He says
I lean forward looking down at the display, "Maybe one day we can be friends" I whisper to it
"So what do you need?" He asks
"Why do you assume I need something?" I say crossing my arms
"Because the last time I saw you, you threatened, and I quote 'to beat my ass' over a spell I don't even remember casting on Patrick"
"Peter!"
"I said Peter," He says straight-faced, "So what is it? Must be big," he says drinking his coffee
"I need backup," I say rolling my eyes, "the magic kind"
We're about 2 beers in of this 30 min interrogation tag teamed by Foggy and Matt when Namor excuses himself to use the bathroom. He kisses me on my cheek, "Jáan in yaakunaj ' I'll be back my love' " he says
"Taan pa'atik ' I'll be waiting," I say smiling before he walks away; I watch him waiting to speak before I'm sure he's out of earshot, "Alright yall knock it off," I say pointing at them
"Knock what off?" Foggy fakes innocence, then breaks out in laughter, "Cut the shit, who is he really?"
"Obviously I can't say, not my truth to tell. Karen help me out here" I half beg
"Lay off guys, I'm sure they have their reasons" she pauses, "But um-" she clears her throat "what about the ears?"
"What's wrong with his ears?" Matt asks
"They're pointy" Foggy and Karen say in unison
"Pointy? Like an elf?" Matt says
"Alright, Alright. Let's not act like a mysterious man with pointy ears is the craziest thing to ever happen in this city. His identity is a secret for a reason, kind of reminds me of someone" I say looking at Matt, "Can we respect that?"
"She's looking at me isn't she," Matt says
"Yep" Foggy laughs
"Yes we can respect that" Karen speaks up for them
"Thank you" I relax," I've missed you guys" I laugh
"We miss you, which reminds me, we have something for you! Foggy walk me to my car real quick" Karen says pulling Foggy from his seat and scurrying away.
"We'll be back" Foggy groans and waves his hand
With both of them gone it was just Matt and me all alone, "So how have you been alter boy?" I laugh taking a sip of beer
"I've been good actually, kind of seeing this girl" Matt Smiles
"No way! Tell me about her"
"She's a lawyer in LA, her current focus is in superhuman law"
"What's her name, I'm gonna look her up" I laugh menacingly
"Jennifer Walters," He says
"No" I gasp
"I take it you've heard of her," he says smiling to himself
"Have I HEARD of her? Am I a human woman on social media? Of course I have. How the hell did you pull the 'She Hulk'?"
"I mean she kinda 'pulled' me"
"Omg, you slut! Is it serious?" I ask
"I mean I met her family and we talk every day, so yea?" he softly laughs
"Matthew Murdock you cheeky devil," I say holding his hand "I'm happy for you"
Squeezing my hand back, "I'm happy for you too, you sound content" he says
"Very" I laugh to myself
At that moment I feel someone touch my lower back and I automatically assume it's Namor and I lean into him but I quickly move when I see an unrecognizable hand wrap around me.
The Vibe:
Black And Gold - Sam Sparro
"Get off her" I hear Matt say as I shove this creep off me and turn around. The man touching me was the stereotypical douchebag, he had a nasty unkept beard, was balding, and reeked of liquor. He was accompanied by 2 equally disgusting friends who smelled of piss and cigarettes
"Sorry sweetheart I couldn't help myself," the creep says trying to touch my hair.
"Don't touch me" I say smacking his hand
"When you're dressed like that you're asking for it" he replies laughing
I sense Matt walk up to my side ready to defend me but I hold my arm out stopping him.
"What are you gonna do? You're a blind dumbass. Can't even see how hot this piece of ass is" he drunkenly laughs with his friends, causing a small crowd to form around us.
"Let me make this clear enough for you," I say stepping up closer to him, "You have a better chance of sprouting wings than you do getting into my pants"
"Come on baby, I could give you a good time," he says grabbing his crotch
"I'd rather fuck a cactus" I plainly say
He spits beside my feet, "You Cun-" Before he could finish I grab his neck firmly squeezing and lifting him, successfully cutting off his airway. The room was filled with gasps and whispers of fear.
"Finish it," I say as he gasps for air and pulls and punches at my arm, "Finish what you were going to say" he continues to choke now kicking his feet.
I loosen my grip a bit so he can speak, "Put-" He coughs "Put me down"
His friends begin to yell and walk up to me so they could help their friend, "Touch me and you're fucking next" I say without even looking at them, causing them to quickly stop.
"I think that's enough Millie" Matt speaks up
Ignoring him I continue, "Are you going to respect women?"
"Fuck You" he chokes out.
Filled with unbridled rage, I squeeze his throat again, and he begins to turn red coughing and gasping for air, "The answer I was looking for was 'Yes'" I say practically hissing, "I'm getting real tired of being touched by assholes like you. Fucking pathetic" I seeth
"Put him down Ki'ichpan, you'll kill him" I hear Namor speak up stepping from behind the man, "Ta vale le pena K'astal junxóot' a humanidad 'Is he worth losing a piece of your humanity?'" he says lightly touching my shoulder
Finding a moment of clarity I snap out of it and I sigh. Rolling my eyes I drop him face-first on the floor. As he coughs finally breathing air, I walk up to him and bend down lifting his head and whispering in his ear:
Bad intentions, divine interventions.
Convictions of disgrace shall call upon my face
"Now anytime you decide to disrespect women, you'll see my face and remember this moment." I pause letting that sink in for a moment, "Have a good night!" I playfully whisper and tap his head before standing up abruptly dropping his head to the floor.
"Sorry Josie," Matt says to the woman behind the bar
I echo Matts's words, "Sorry Josie" I nervously laugh
"No need," she says "Get him the hell out of here," pointing to the creeps friends. They quickly help him up and drag him out of the bar.
"What just happened," Karen asks as she and foggy walk-in
After we all sit back down, I bring them up to speed, "He should be thankful I didn't permanently hurt him, just his ego" I laugh
"What did you whisper to him?" Namor asks
"Bad intentions, divine interventions. Convictions of disgrace shall call upon my face." Matt repeats, "She cursed him"
"You what?!" Foggy asks
"Not all curses are bad, this one will teach him a lesson. Be happy I didn't cause him impotence" I Scoff finishing my beer.
Namor whispers to my ear, " Yaan k'intaj ti' u llegaras leti'e' yáax, tu habría kiinsik ti' le acto. 'He's lucky you got to him first, I would have killed him on the spot " he says causing a shiver to go down my spine
Whispering back to him, " Wa teene' ma' in tsa'ayaj, Teeche' ma' a ' If I can't, you can't" I half laugh, "Yuumbo'otik je'elel in. Ma' in wojel ba'ax Ku taal yóok'ol 'Thank you for stopping me. I don't know what came over me "
Still whispering in my ear, "Mantats' táan in waye' teechi 'I'm always here for you' " he says, "Bejla'e', ti' jump'éel Páaybe'en asab seria, táan u yuk'ik tuláakal in muuk' yo'osal ma' atar a jump'éel pak'o' yéetel follar a kíinsa'ab tu táan tuláakal ' Now on a more serious note, It's taking all of my strength to not pin you to this table and fuck you in front of everyone.' " he says as he roughly grabs my ass under my skirt.
"Comportar u 'Behave' " I say looking at him, "Lelo' a chen advertencia, 'That's your only warning'" I say smiling and booping his nose
"You guys make me want to throw up," Karen says laughing at us, "Here," She says handing me a gift bag, "Before I forget, I know we're like 2 weeks early but, Happy Re-Birthday!" She squeals
"Oh you guys, thank you" I smile
"Re-birthday?" Namor asks
"It's the day Peter found me at the lake. I don't know my real birthday so we use my 're-birth' date to celebrate." I say a little embarrassed, "You guys didn't have to get me anything"
"Don't worry it's not expensive," Foggy says
"Pro Bono work doesn't exactly pay great" Matt laughs
I look in the bag and see a bottle of Whiskey, a Framed picture of us, and a weird engraved case. I pull it out and open it seeing 2 handcrafted Kunai's, "Oh you guys shouldn't have" I pull them out and test the agility of the weapons, spinning them in my hands "where did you find these?" I asked amazed
"A friend from K'un-Lun gave them to me. Not my weapon of choice so I figured you could use them" Matt says
"Thank you guys, so much," I say "I can't wait to use these," I say tucking them in my boot
"Let's hope you don't have to" Karen laughs
The rest of the night was easygoing, we had a few more drinks and talked for another hour or so. Namor finally began to warm up to my friends; laughing and making jokes with them. It was nice to see his guard down a little. Feeling a little tired I rub Namor's leg and whisper in his ear, "Táan wáaj a ts'o'oksik u bin 'You ready to go?'" he nods his head yes and smiles at me, "Alrighty guys we are gonna head out"
"Really? It's still so early though" Karen whines
"11 pm is way past my bedtime" I laugh, "I love y'all," I say before hugging them all
"Bye Mills, Love you too!" Karen says as Foggy waves at us
"Don't be a stranger," Matt says before we walk out of the bar
Now outside and finally alone I look to Namor, "Ready?" I smile. He nods his head and we begin to walk the other way
"Your friends are way more than you let on, especially the blind one," he says
"They are" I laugh "They're good people though," I say.
He responds with a head nod and a grunt, "Roughly how long before we make it to your place" he asks
"40 min without traffic" I respond
"Okay," he says nodding his head, "Will Peter be home?"
"Yes, he should be. Why do you ask?"
He abruptly stops and pulls me close to him "Because I intend on doing things to you that will scar the boy if he overheard" he says roughly grabbing my ass and pulling me into him, "Tell me Millaenyia, have I been on my best behavior?" he asks causing me to feel a heartbeat in my pussy.
Wanting to play along, "Yes Daddy you have," I say snaking my hand down to his dick and lightly touching him just enough to feel him get hard.
I decided it would have taken too long to get home so we checked into a fancy hotel down the road. This will give us much-needed privacy and won't traumatize Peter. I booked us a nice Suite with a balcony overlooking the city.
"Alrighty Mrs. Parker your room is 2007, the elevator is that way, and check out is at 11." The hostess says to me as she hands me our key cards
"Thank you," I say pulling Namor away to the elevators. We get in and another couple tries to come in after us but Namor just holds his hand out and stops them. Not saying a word and just staring at them until the door closes causing me to laugh, "What is wrong with you?" I laugh hitting the elevator button to bring us to our floor
"I just wanted a bit of privacy," He says before pinning me to the wall and looking down at me like I was his next meal, "You were so sexy earlier when you handled that man," he says, "So powerful," Slowly, he slides his hand under my skirt and touching my pussy making me gasp from his cold hands.
I forgot he still has my underwear in his pocket
He roughly slides 2 fingers inside me beginning to slowly finger me as he begins to speak, "I hope you're not too tired my love" he says hooking his fingers and going deeper inside of me prompting me to moan out, "That rights let it out Ki'ichpan" he says breathing down my neck picking up his speed and driving me wild. I throw my head back hitting the wall behind me; this left my neck exposed giving Namor the perfect opportunity to bite and suck on my bare skin.
Feeling the elevator starting to slow down as we approach our floor, Namor takes his free hand and holds my chin, "Open" he says as he pulls out of me. I listen and open my mouth allowing him to place his soaked fingers on my tongue; I grab his wrist holding him in place while I clean his fingers, licking up all of my juices and never breaking eye contact.
When done, I pull him out of my mouth and fix my skirt just in time for the elevator to stop. Namor takes my hand and pulls me behind him as he walks us to our room. When we arrive I open the door with the key card and begin to walk in but before I could take a step further Namor lifts me up bridal style and walks us in, kicking the door closed behind him, "You are too much" I say laughing at him.
He puts me down and takes a seat in front of me on the bed removing his shoes and his shirt, and throwing them both to the floor. "Take off your coat" he calmly demands
I drop the coat to the floor, "What now?" I playfully ask
"Come here"
I walk over to him and stand in between his legs and place my hand on his cheek gently stroking his face. He leans into my touch and breathes in my scent eventually grabbing my wrist and placing it down to my side, "Turn around" Slowly I do as he says. He gently takes both my hand and holds them together behind my back. I feel him shuffle in his pocket looking for something, "Almost forgot I had these" He says
My Panties
I feel him take my panties and use them as a rope to tie my hands together firmly, "You know I can easily break out of these" I lightly chuckle.
He slowly rubs his hands up my legs stopping at my waist, "Be a good girl and don't" he says before forcing me to sit down in his lap. I can feel his erection grow harder under me; taking this opportunity I begin to slowly grind in his lap, massaging his dick under me. Hands still gripping my waist, Namor begins to match my grind back, breathing heavily and softly moaning under his breath. We stay this way for a few minutes enjoying each other's longing touch, eventually, this wasn't enough for Namor; very abruptly I feel him rip my skirt off so easily that for a moment I thought it was paper.
"Hey! I liked that skirt" I half complain
"I did too," he says ripping off my bra and holding it out for me to see, "I liked this too"
"You're an animal," I say as he roughly grabs both of my breasts
"An animal?" he says before grabbing a handful of my hair and holding me back to his chest, "Shall I fuck you like one?" he whispers in my ear
Completely speechless and unable to move I just shake my head yes. Namor chuckles under his breath and stands us up; he walks me over to the desk next to the bed and gently folds me over it. Face down, ass up. I feel him take the majority of my hair in his hand and wrap it around his wrist, kind of like a dog leash. He then takes his dick and positions himself at my entrance, "Are you ready Ki'ichpan?"
"Yes, Daddy" I smile to myself.
Namor takes the okay and begins to slowly enter me and stops when he's balls deep, "If I get too rough, say my true name 'K'uk'ulkan'" I nod my head in response. Before I knew it Namor began to slam into me as if his life depended on it. With each thrust, his hips made a loud slapping sound when he made contact with my ass. The position I am in is extremely uncomfortable, my hands were bound and my hair was being pulled so I couldn't move my head; but despite that, all I could think about was how good Namor was making me feel.
I swear with each pump I can feel him go deeper inside me, inching closer to my cervix. This feeling was painful but mostly I felt a sense of euphoria wash over me causing me to instinctively clench my walls around his dick and arch my back so he could go deeper. With each desperate thrust from Namor, I was sent closer and closer to the edge. I swear I could feel every vein and twitch from his dick as my walls form around his incredible length. I let out my cries of pain and pleasure unable to compose myself, "Oh fuck" I yell out
Namor growls out and pulls me from the table and roughly walks me toward the balcony pressing me against the window and continuing to pound me to oblivion, "This is what fucking you like an animal is like; out in the open for the world to see" He says between grunts, "Do you want to me to stop?" he says gripping my neck and breast from behind
I don't want him to stop... but anyone can see us. And yet, something about that is turning me on more.
"No" I choke out
"Are you scared someone will see us?" He says smacking my ass
I heard his question but I couldn't answer, he has been hitting my sweet spot for the last few minutes and I was about to burst. Pulling me to his chest and bear-hugging me, he continues to slam into me, "Answer me" he says in my ear
"Yes!" I moan out
"I hope someone sees us, I wish Bucky could see us right now." He laughs sinisterly, "You're mine. You will be my queen. Say it" He demands
"I'm yours!" I cry out as he drills into me, "I'm so close, don't stop," I say blinking back tears.
Namor then releases me from his arms and unties my hands allowing me to fall forward on the window to brace myself. With every hard thrust, my tits pressed against the glass; it was a wonderfully lewd site to see. I feel Namors dick begin to twitch in me as he rests his head on my shoulder, whimpering and breathing in my ear. That was all I needed to reach my orgasm; my walls firmly hold Namors dick in place, practically forcing him to cum with me. My Climax was so strong that I begin to black out a little and my legs give in. Fortunately, Namor was holding me upright and in place as he released himself in me. Unable to keep my eyes open and maintain a balance I feel myself drift off...
"She's here!" I say to Namor as I jump out of his lap from the couch.
Not having any clothes here for Namor to wear out was an easy fix; the great thing about living in New York is that you can get just about anything delivered. I ordered him a black button-down, grey slacks, and paired them with brown dress shoes.
Opening the door, I see a beautiful young woman at the door holding a bag of clothes from Express, "Millie Parker?" She asks smiling at me with a bit of a blush. I notice her looking me up and down; I'm still just wearing my white silk robe and it doesn't leave much for the imagination
"Yes, ma'am," I say taking the bag from her and handing her a tip, "Thank you so much!"
"No problem," She says, "You are very beautiful"
Before I could thank her for the compliment I feel Namor behind me gently wrapping his arms around my waist; quietly telling the woman I'm taken, "Thank you hun, you're beautiful too" I say smiling back.
I see her grab a pen and write something on the receipt before she hands it to me lightly brushing my hand, "here's your receipt. Have a great night" She says winking at Namor then leaving.
I close the door while reading the note
'Call me :) XXX-XXX-XXXX'
"looks like we just got asked out, " I say showing Namor the note
"Hmm," he says, "I'm not opposed to the idea," He says kissing my neck and sliding a hand down my robe groping my breasts, "I'd like to watch" he whispers in my ear
"Typical man" I laugh and roll my eyes
Pocketing this for later hehe
"Here," I say holding out the bag for him to take, "Come on let's go get dressed"
We go to my room and get dressed for the night; he finishes before me and sits on the bed while reading an old magazine of mine.
Tonight I decided to wear a black leather almost mini skirt and a red laced bralette top that hugged my breasts and expose my stomach; topped off with a pair of black knee-high heels and a golden choker to accentuate my neck. I don't go crazy on makeup today, just a little eyeliner, mascara, and gold eyeshadow in the corner of my eye as well as some red lip gloss.
I grab some lotion and step out into my room looking at myself in my full-body mirror making sure everything looks good, "Can you rub some of this on my back pleaseeee?" I asked holding out the lotion toward Namor.
He looks up from what he was reading and I swear in .02 of a second his face went from relaxed and innocent to stressed and sinful. He tosses the magazine on the bed and walks to me taking the lotion from my hand, "Turn around" he firmly commands
I do as he asks and watches him through the mirror; he squeezes some lotion in his hands and gives me the bottle. Starting with my shoulders and working his way down my back he massaged the lotion through, even going under my bralette, doing a thorough job. He continued to massage my back rubbing out a few knots from stress; the moment was incredibly intimate. I could see on his face that he was holding back from taking me right here.
Hehe, I knew this outfit would get me in some trouble ;)
When he finishes with my back I turn to him, "Thank you my love" I smile
"I'm not done yet," he says, "turn back around please" he softly asks while taking the lotion back from my hand. I do as he says, curious to see where this goes; I continue to watch him through the mirror. Namor bends down to his knees so he was at eye level with my ass. He takes some more lotion and begins to rub my thighs only stopping to lightly lift my skirt so he could massage my ass. I suddenly started to feel really warm and flushed, he was giving me butterflies. Gently I feel him nudge me at my legs wanting me to turn and face him.
I decide to turn around slowly, wanting to give him a little show. Finally facing him I take my heeled foot and graze his inner thigh, "You enjoying yourself?"
"I am," he says looking up at me taking my leg, and begins to kiss up my thigh
I have a fun little idea
"Do you think I look good Namor?" I ask faking innocence
"I think you look breathtaking," he says between Kisses, "And I think I will not last a full night out if you wear something like this." He says looking up at me still kissing my thighs, inching closer and closer to my core.
"That was the point." I laugh and take my foot placing it on his chest and push him back a little, "Let's play a game"
He rubs my thigh contemplating for a moment, "I'm listening"
"I'm curious how long you'd last before ripping my clothes off tonight. So, if you be on your best behavior tonight until we get home you can do whatever you want to me. If not, you can't touch me for a week"
"A Week?" he says kind of distressed
"Mhmm," I say, "You don't have to do this but..." I say taking my heel and gently lifting his chin "Imagine how good it would feel if you win; or how even better it would feel if you lost. What do you say?"
I can see his eyes darken a bit as he contemplates, "Fine, I'll play along, but only if we start after I taste you."
"Deal," I say smiling back at him
He smiles, "Lean back"
I do as he says and lean back on the wall; he approaches me and begins to pull down my thong with his teeth. Before he could go any further I got a call from a good friend, "I'll call her back" I say
"Answer it," he says as he spreads my legs
Oh he freaky, freaky
I lean my head back on the wall and answer my phone, "Hey Karen, what's up?"
"Hey, girl! The guys and I are getting together for a couple of drinks, you should come."
"Umm," I say trying to process what she just said. Namor is really doing his best work eating me out right now. He has my leg over his shoulder, with my thong hanging from my ankle, and my skirt fully lifted; rubbing my clit while tongue fucking me, making it extremely hard to focus, " Yea um, My boyfriend is with me and we had other plans. Can I talk to him first ?"
"Oh no, you're not with bucky are you?" She asks concerned
I hold the phone away from my ear so I can softly moan without her hearing me, "Fuck" I whisper to myself bringing the phone back to my ear, "No no. Um, I have a lot to fill you in on" I say not wanting to say anything further before talking to Namor first.
What do we tell people?
"Oh okay. Well, I'll send you the address to the bar in case you decide to come, bring the new beaux! I hope you can at least stop by I miss you."
"I miss you too!" I say kinda rushed, "Okay hun I got to go, I love you byeee" I say hanging up and throwing my phone on the bed, "Fuck" I moan out as I grab Namor by the hair holding him in place, "Right there"
I'm so close to finishing when Namor decides to stop and put my leg down, taking my thong and putting it in his pocket, "I'll be keeping these for the night" he says standing up and moving so close to me but stops and leaves an inch of room between us. Without breaking eye contact he pulls my skirt back down in place and smooths off any wrinkles, "I like playing games too" he says teasing me
"Oh, it's on. You will eat your words" I say snaking my hand down his leg and firmly grabbing his dick through his pants before I walk away grabbing my long black coat on the way out of my room, "Come on let's go"
"As you wish Ki'ichpan," he says proudly of himself
--------------------------------
The Vibe:
Anything You Want Me To
We roamed the busy city grabbing street food as we walked around seeing the sites. Eventually, I decide to take him to my job; I work at the American Museum of Natural History. I figure it would be cool to show him where I work. We're walking through the entrance with masses of people around us. I see Namor looking a little overwhelmed with all the people so I take his hand and drag him to a side entrance so we can use the employee wing. I go up to the panel and use my key card to scan in and open the door quickly pulling him through and closing it behind us, successfully separating us from the loud crowd "Better?" I ask him
"Much. Thank you." He smiles "So you work here?"
"I do," I say plainly, holding his hand and as we begin to walk
"You don't sound happy about it" he chuckles
"Ugh, it's complicated ya know? Many museums have legacies rooted in colonialism; their collections were from wealthy donors who benefited from empires or war criminals who stole from countries who couldn't defend themselves." I sigh, "I can't tell you how many times I have stopped myself from using my powers to steal back everything, and return them to their people which would undoubtedly start a war. If I work here, then at least I know I can take care of these artifacts and they're in good hands." I pause, "God, I'm sorry that was a lot"
"No, I like to hear your passions. What exactly do you do?"
"I'm one of the curators here, so I oversee museum collections by managing the acquisition, preservation, and display of the artifacts. I sometimes do seminars, lots of research, or public service activities of the institution." I lightly laugh, "I would be lying though if I said I didn't enjoy it. Being able to get paid to learn and travel is great and watching the kid's reactions to our exhibits, fills my cup."
"You'll be a great mother," He says so matter of fact
"Oh hush" I laugh, "Come on future baby daddy, I wanna show you the 'Hall of Mexico and Central America'. This exhibit is closed so we'll be the only ones here." I say pulling him through another door, "This is one of my favorite spots. From the richly woven textiles to the stunning silver figurines made by the Inka, all works of exquisite craftsmanship are in this gallery. This Hall features the art, tools, and technologies of pre-Columbian cultures in South America. You'll also find artifacts from Mesoamerican cultures including the Maya, Olmec, Aztec, and others in this hall dedicated to the archaeology of Mexico and Central America as well as exhibits about the traditional cultures of modern Amazonia." I say fast almost running out of breath, "You know you gotta stop me or I'll continue to assault you with all of my knowledge" I joke
"I love you" Namor speaks up causing me to look him in the eye "I know we are taking our time, but I cannot wait to marry you," He says pulling me into a quick loving kiss, "Go on show me more"
We spent almost 2 hours walking around and talking, I showed him the rest of my favorite exhibits giving him a personal tour of the place. It was a cute little date night.
As we were leaving the building I received a text from Karen:
520 E 6th St, New York, NY 10009
Here's the address to Josie's bar!
I hope you can make it.
9:45 pm
This is Foggy. Get your ass over here and bring the boy. ILY <3
9:46 pm
"Hey, how social are you feeling?" I ask as we walk
"The nights still young; what did you have in mind?"
"A couple of my friends are wanting to get drinks, are you up for meeting them?"
"Of course," he says smiling at me
"Great!"
I text Karen Back:
Be there in 15 :)
9:50 pm
"Okay, this should be fun," I say excitedly, "So what do you want me to say to people about you? Like your name and where you're from. What's your cover story?" I joke
"Hmmm, My name is Namor Huerta, I'm a historian visiting you from the Yucatan Peninsula; we met through your work. How does that sound?" He replies
"Sounds perfect to me, fair warning though, they were in law and will know you are lying BUT, they won't question it."
"Why won't they?"
"They've been involved in superhuman work too, so they get the secrecy," I say then whistling to call a taxi, "I didn't bring my sling ring, so we'll have to travel like peasants" I laugh as the taxi pulls up. We get in and I tell the driver to take us to our destination and help Namor Buckle up, I'm like 99% sure he's never been in a car
Little lost puppy
"You okay?" I ask holding his hand
"I'm great," he says smiling back and squeezing my hand, "is there anything else I should know about your friends?"
"Nothing really, Matt and Foggy are lawyers with their own firm, I should mention that Matt is blind," I say leaving out that he is also Daredevil.
Not my secret to tell
"Karen is a journalist, and they all know about my powers. That's really about it" I pause remembering a significant detail
Fuck
"There is one thing you should know," I say nervously laughing, "Matt and I are, how did you put it, familiar "
"Familiar" he repeats
I clear my throat, "Yes," I say beginning to sweat, "It wasn't really serious, just mostly sex. We work way better as friends"
"Mhm" Namor just responds, not letting on what he's thinking, " I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. But, you have a had a whole life before me and it's not my place to be upset," he says trying to be very supportive
"Are you convincing me or yourself?" I laugh
"Still trying to figure that out"
"This is going to be a fun night," I say laughing and leaning into his ear. "Are you going to be on your best behavior?" I whisper sliding my hand into his shirt and playing with his chest.
"We'll see," he says a little strained, "If you don't stop teasing me, I'll end this game now"
I laugh pulling away, "Okay grumpy pants"
10 min later we pull up in front of Josie's; I pay the driver as we get out of the car headed towards the entrance. Namor opens the door for me allowing me to go in first; stepping through he takes my hand and kisses it, once again subtly marking his territory to the surrounding patrons, "I love you" he quietly mouths to me making my heart skip a beat. Lost in the moment we both didn't realize that Karen was walking towards us.
"You made it!" She yells hugging me, "And you brought the boy!" She says waving to Namor, "Come on our table is in the back, it's quieter there"
Still holding hands we follow Karen to our table, where we find Foggy, and Matt.
"Look what the cat dragged in" Foggy Says
"Hey Foggy!" I say to him then looking to Matt, "Good to see you, Matty"
"Millie" He smiles, "Who's the friend?" gesturing his hand to Namor
"This is my boyfriend Namor everyone. Namor this is Karen, Foggy, and Matt"
"Nice to meet you all," he says politely
"Have a seat y'all" Karen says getting into her seat
Namor helps me take off my coat placing it behind the chair, pulling it out for me to sit, and sitting in the seat beside me.
"So how'd you guys meet," Karen says before sipping her beer.
"Through work" I respond
"And what is it you do Namor?" Matt asks
"I'm a historian at the Mayan World Museum of Mérida," he says without skipping a beat
Oh he's good
I place a supportive hand on Namor's leg and raise my other for the passing bartender, "Can we get 2 coronas and lime? And Keep them coming please."
I find myself walking in Kissena park, the same park where I was buried. I know this is a dream for 2 major reasons, 1 being, I don't ever come back here. Something about here makes me feel a profound sadness, something I can feel deep in my soul; I usually avoid this part of town as it's too much for me to handle. My 2nd reason is that the sky was filled with a blue and purple hue, not something we usually see here in New York. As I walk along the trails of the park I find myself walking toward the lake where I was found at.
I decided to sit at the edge of the lake and watch the water ripple as I drag my hand along the top of the water. The city streets weren't booming with music and laughter as usual; It was quiet and peaceful.
"My, how beautiful you've become." I hear a woman say behind me. I turn to look at her and it was my mother. She was barefoot and dressed in white robes, her face was so similar to mine, it threw me off; but unlike myself, she looked content and at peace, there was no worry or pain written in her face like that flashback I saw of her.
Without saying a word to her I just stand and hug her, "Mom" I whisper and begin to softly cry
She holds me tightly rubbing my back, "My sweet child, I'm here now." I cry in her arms for a good 5 mins before I spoke up.
"Sorry for the waterworks" I chuckle nervously and pull away," I don't know what came over me."
"Don't apologize for releasing your feelings, my love. It's good for you, you really should do that more often. You bottle up everything, ever since you were little."
"I wouldn't know, perks of being an amnesiac" I laugh initially but then pause, "I mean no disrespect, but how would you know mom? You died..."
"Death is not the end child." she says holding the side of my face, "I've been there with you, every step of the way. Watching over you, here in the ancestral plane" She replies
"Ancestral Plane? Here? We're in it right now?" I ask and she nods "How am I able to be here? I didn't eat the heart-shaped herb "
"You're a sorceress Millaenyia, you have always been able to access this plane" I just look at her trying to process as she continues, "The Astral Dimension is made up of several planes that correspond to different afterlives. Asgardians to Valhalla, Ennead to Duat, and Wakandans to the Ancestral Plane. As a sorceress and especially as a direct descendant of Ayesha, you can easily travel here just as you breathe air."
"I've been here before, well somewhere similar, with-" I Begin
"Namor's mother" She finishes "lovely woman by the way."
"Oh my god, you've met her?" I ask
"We've become acquainted as of late" She smiles
I hold my head in my hands, "Oh god so you know about my unconscious love spell" I ask
"Yes I do" she laughs, "Oh don't be embarrassed, we both know I've done way worse with my magic." she nervously laughs
I see where I get my humor from
"Too soon" I laugh, "but seriously what were you thinking? Why risk so much? I'm trying not to be negative about this situation but I really could have used your guidance, maybe I wouldn't have ended up buried in a lake with no memory. Which by the way, is truly traumatic." I pause and recollect myself, "I'm sorry I'm not being fair. I'm just lost and confused and I need my mom"
"Don't apologize, you're my child and I failed you. That's a simple fact. With the combination of grief and the black magic from the Darkhold, I was lost and consumed by my pain. I am so sorry, I should have been there for you, and If I were there you wouldn't have gotten mixed up with Agatha." She pauses and wipes away a tear, "I'd give anything to take it all back, but I can't. What I can do now is help bring back your memories. You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending"
I exhale and chuckle, "C.S. Lewis? Big fan of his Narnia Books?" I playfully question
"I'm dead, what else am I to do? Haunt people?" She jokes wiping away a few tears. " On a serious note though we need to talk about your past." She hesitates and holds my hand, "You buried yourself in that lake and wiped your memories."
"Why?" I ask
"Not my place to say." She sighs.
"Some help you are" I exhaustedly say, "What can you tell me?"
She smiles at me," Come on it's never that easy is it?" she laughs, "The red witch can help you with your memories."
Red Witch? Red? Scarlet Witch?
"Wanda? Strange says she's dead"
"That's what she wants you to think, she's very much alive."
I nod my head, "You mentioned me being involved with Agatha? Who is she ?"
"A very powerful and evil witch; Wanda knows where she is." She replies pulling me into a hug. "I must go now my love"
"So soon? Can I see you again?" I ask suddenly feeling so sad
"Don't worry my child, I will always be here to talk." she kisses my forehead," Study the book of Ayesha. All of your ancestor's powers are in there, learn them. Keep yourself strong sweet girl." with those parting words I blink and find myself in my bed snuggled up with Namor.
The Vibe:
Michael Jackson - Butterflies (Audio)
He was on his back and holding me in his arms; lightly snoring with every exhale. I was going to try to get up but decided to enjoy his warm embrace. His natural scent was positively intoxicating, his arms were solid and his warm skin was soft and comforting. The way he was holding me made me feel so safe and loved. Honestly, this whole vibe is turning me on. I gently roll on top of him and begin to softly kiss him starting from his chest, dipping down under the blanket to kiss his stomach, and stopping at his hips lingering there for a moment. I feel Namor stirring in his sleep so I decide to start leaving hickies along his V-line while I take my cold hands and slide them up his stomach, effectively waking him up.
"Mmm good morning Ki'ichpan." Namor says, "Something on your mind?" he says uncovering my head from under the blanket.
"Just one thing at the moment," I say gently biting his hip and eventually climbing up and wrapping myself in the blanket as I straddle him.
"Care to enlighten me?" he asks as he strokes my leg
"No" I begin to laugh and shake my head "How'd you sleep?" He begins to answer but stops, getting distracted by me widening my straddle and stroking his dick with my pussy. "What's the matter, daddy? Cats got your tongue?" I ask
Ignoring my questions he rips the blanket out from around exposing me fully and admiring the way I look on top of him. I lean forward and rest my hands on either side of his head looking down into his eyes, "You like what you see?" I say slowly grinding on him and coating his dick with my juices.
"I like what I see and feel," he says as he roughly grabs my hips holding me down and grinding back, "Can you wake me up like this every day?" he asks before I crash my lips to his and fully laying on him; wanting to be as close as to him as possible.
"I think that can be arranged" I laugh, "I want you" I whisper
Without hesitation, Namor takes his dick and positions himself under me allowing me to slowly slide down until he's ball's deep inside me. Sitting up I begin to slowly bounce on him making small claps from my ass hitting his hips. He feels so hard inside of me; with every bounce, I feel him hit my deep sweet spot causing me to moan and pick up the speed. Namor steadys himself by grabbing my sides and begins to match my rhythm under me making him go deeper inside of me. Without realizing it we had doubled our pace, my tits were bouncing up and down with each bounce of my ass. I throw my head back in pure pleasure trying to focus on my incoming orgasm. Namor can feel my walls tighten around him; swiftly he grabs me flipping us over giving himself full control, "Cumming so soon?" He asks thrusting into me with full force, "Finish now and I won't let you cum for a week" he threatens
"I can't," I say in between moans, "You feel so good" I cry out
"You can" He whispers, "Do it for daddy, do it for your King" Not able to respond with words I just frantically shake my head as I try to hold on. Laying his head in the crook of my neck he continues to bury himself in me occasionally moaning and saying small praises under his breath. Closing my eyes, I focus on my breathing trying to delay my orgasm; I scratch at his back breaking skin causing him to growl in my neck," Fuck baby" He grabs my neck and lifts looking into my eyes, lightly choking and pounding into me with such force. ," Tell me you're mine" he demands
"I'm yours!" I say matching his energy
"Again!"
"I'M YOURS" I choke out barely holding on anymore
"Oh Fuck" He moans," Cum for me Ki'ichpan," He says burying his head in my shoulder and not letting go of my neck. I moan out once more allowing myself to finally enjoy my sweet release once again seeing stars completely losing myself in this pure ecstasy. Feeling my walls grip Namor's dick forcing him to reach his climax with me. I hear him whimpering in my ear as he releases himself in me, occasionally thrusting deeper and deeper making sure he fills me up fully. With one final thrust, he slowly pulls out and relaxes on top of me allowing me to play with his hair.
"I love you." I softly say
He quickly raises himself hovering over me smiling like an Idiot, "You love me?"
"I do" I laugh
"That's the first time you've said that," he says excitedly "Please say it again" He almost begs
"I love you" I giggle
"Louder," he says kissing me sloppily everywhere
"I love you!" I practically yell to the rooftops
We stay there for a while kissing, talking, and giggling enjoying our morning together in bed.
-------------------------------
I lend Namor a pair of my large old MIT sweats and I'm wearing a simple silk white robe. We sit at the kitchen island eating eggs and bacon for breakfast; This is our second plate, we worked up an appetite this morning. Watching him eat is such a pure site to see, he seems so happy and content and I can't help but feel that too.
"So," he says and pauses, "Are you okay? With everything with your mother I mean."
I take his hand and play with his palm before I answer, " I'm a lot better now. I have a lot to fill you in on actually."
"I'm all ears" He smiles
"It would be a lot quicker if I show you. Do you trust me?" I say smiling at him
"Of course"
I place my hand on his cheek and hold his head to mine using my memory transference to show him what I saw happen to my parents, what Steven and I found out from my family books, last night's conversation, and leaving my conversation with his mother for last. I pull away from him still holding his cheek, "You're mother is a lovely soul, I can see where you get it from" I say smiling at him
"Are you sure it wasn't a dream? Not that I doubt your gifts, I just want to be sure." He says reluctantly.
"I'm pretty sure. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." I say
"You apologize too much." He says smiling at me, "She was beautiful wasn't she?"
"Breathtakingly" I smile
He sheds a small tear; I stand up and make my way around to him and hold him allowing him to fully feel his emotions.
I wonder if he's ever let himself grieve.
We sit there for a while in silence processing our thoughts, "So, you cast a spell looking for me?" He finally speaks up smiling again like a dork
"Of course, that's the first thing you ask." I say looking away embarrassed "I didn't do it on purpose" I laugh
Namor pulls me into a kiss and steals the air from my lungs before asking me, "And who's Steven?"
Completely caught off guard, "A friend, why do you ask?" I say laughing
"You 2 seemed familiar," he says looking into my eyes
I roll my eyes at him, "I've been familiar with plenty of men and women." I position myself in between his legs and whisper in his ear, "Are you jealous?" I ask knowingly poking the bear
"I am a jealous man, I can admit that," he says nipping at my neck, "I don't like the idea of sharing"
I snake my hand in his hair and firmly grab it pulling his head back, "I don't either" He smiles and grabs my ass, starting up round 2
----------------------------------
The Vibe:
Frank Sinatra - Witchcraft
Namor and I have bummed around all day in the apartment, I Introduced him to Netflix so we've spent most of the day watching Hill House; for a strong stoic man he freaks out at the smallest jumpscare. Peter even joined us for a bit before he went to work. After watching episode 5 and tragically finding out who the bent-neck lady was, we both decide to take a much-needed break.
This is the perfect time to find Wanda using a locator spell.
I tell Namor my plan and he sits on the couch closely watching my every move, he was so fascinated by my magic. I clear my coffee table and lay out my map; I then go grab my decorative jar of sand and pour some on the map.
Gotta be creative...
Like before I hold my hand over the map and close my eyes focusing on an image of Wanda I have in my head.
Show me the path that I cannot find, Guide me to Wanda for I am blind.
Just as before a gust of wind flows throw my hand as I open my eyes; the sand had covered the whole map except for Sokovia...
She went home.
"Interesting," I say cleaning up my mess, "Well I know where to start looking I guess."
"Will you be going alone? I can come with you."
"She's 'The Scarlet Witch', her power is dangerous, especially for non-magic users; I'd be safer if you didn't come, no distractions." I pause and hold his hand, "Don't worry, I won't go alone; I'll bring a friend" He nods satisfied that I won't be by myself, "Well enough of that. What do ya wanna do now?" I curiously ask
"We should go out; I'd like to get to know your city," He says genuinely
We end up in the tub covered in hot water and bubbles. Namor is sitting rubbing my ass and back while I lay on his chest listening to his heartbeat.
I could get used to this
"I Could get used to this" Namor says
Surprised I sit up straddling him, "Did you just read my mind?"
He chuckles, "No, but it's great to hear you feel the same." I smile at him blushing, "Turn around, Let me wash your back" he says
I do as he asks and turns around allowing him access to my back. He lathers up some soap in my loofa and gently washes my back eventually stopping to give me a small massage, "mm thank you, I'm loving all this aftercare." I say letting myself relax "You treat me like a princess."
"I'd treat you like a queen if you'd allow it." He quickly says
"Was that a proposal?" I jokingly asked a little shocked
"Yes" he nonchalantly says causing me to turn around in his lap confused
"Are you serious?" I asked baffled
"Always"
"Even after all that drama tonight?" I nervously laugh, "Also you barely know me"
"Marriage is a journey. Marry me now and I have a lifetime to get to know you," he says shrugging
Unable to respond to that, I just look at him bewildered
He continues, "I have lived for a long time and I'm an excellent judge of character. You are kind, caring, strong, intelligent, and sexy; the list goes on. I would be so lucky to be with you."
Without really thinking I just blurt out, "What if I choose-" I begin but stop myself
"Go on"
"What if I choose him" referring to bucky
Without skipping a beat he says, "We live forever, he does not" he smirks to himself, "Choose him now and I'll just wait for you when you're ready."
"You make it sound so simple"
"Matters of the heart are simple. Hear me when I say I love you, I want to be with you, I want you to have my children and I want my people to call you Queen just as they call me King."
I look at him waiting for him to take it back
Say sike right now
We sit in silence for a while.
Bucky will break my heart again. Whether he'll leave me again or die; our relationship will end in painful tears. I know this much is true. With Namor, there's excitement, devotion, commitment, and unconditional love. He loves me. Let that sink in...
I love bucky but it hurts to love him. As much as I tell myself it's too early and too fast; I love Namor too. With him it's clear, it's easy.
My twin flame...
"Okay," I say
"Okay?" he questions
"Okay." I laugh, "I'm not that easy though, You will have to propose better than that at a WAYYY later date."
"You'll have me?" he asks excitedly
"I'll have you." I smile shaking my head, "Can we take it a little slow though? We have to take care of a few things first; I've got to talk to bucky obviously, I still have to figure out my witchy past, and you have to take me to Talokan to meet your people"
Before I could continue overanalyzing everything Namor pulls me into a long slow kiss; wrapping my arms around him I allow myself to relax in his embrace, "I can't wait to take you to my people, they will love you almost as much as I do." He says continuing to kiss me
I feel his growing erection under me rubbing my slit. I grab his dick and slowly jerk him causing his breath to hitch from my touch. I position over him and slowly slide myself down on his thick dick and fully sit smacking my ass to his thighs. He holds on to my waist and kisses me as I begin to bounce on him. This position is hitting my sweet spot causing me to whip my head back and arch my back.
Taking the opportunity of my exposed chest, he slips one of my nipples in his mouth and begins to thrust back causing my ass to clap.
We were sloppy and sweating, all we could think about was making each other feel good. We're both tired and won't last very long but that didn't mean this time wasn't very good. I lift my head to look at him and am surprised I find him looking back at me watching my every move.
He tried to say something, but it got stifled by his moans, "I know baby" I say already feeling myself unravel so close to cumming, "Cum with my love" I plead
He hugs me tight and burry his head to my chest letting himself enjoy me ride him. He grabs my ass helping me slam down on his dick giving me what I need to reach my climax and he follows right behind cursing and grunting as he cums.
Catching his breath he says, "Your ass" He double-hand smacks me "Is amazing"
I laugh, "Oh I know. She's my money maker." I Joke as I yawn "Ko'oten in ajawo', chital tin wéetel 'Come my king, lay down with me "
"Bix ka ts'íiboltik in yaakunaj 'as you wish my love' " He says getting up and leading us to bed.
Writing a Nanami Fan Fic. What would yall like to see? I mean anything; sex positions, certain scenarios, oc traits, character pairings, etc. Let me know your thoughts 😙
cw: brief mention of violence, injury, trauma (not graphic), hurt/comfort, injury recovery, established relationship. brief mention of having children (no decision or plans made/no pregnancy mention), consumption of alcohol/cigarettes, explicit sexual content (oral sex f! receiving, fingering, hand jobs, vaginal sex), - NSFW, MDNI
word count: 12.8k
a/n: this is technically a sequel to one of my earlier devil hunter!reader x kishibe fics but can be read as a standalone fic as well! this fic takes place after kishibe's injury when he was in his 20s, but reader-character is his partner as opposed to quanxi. the fic essentially covers the aftermath of the injury & how they recover together. hope you enjoy my loves, thanks for reading! thank you so much to this anon who helped inspire the plot of this fic
if you prefer to read on ao3, it is published here
___
“Stay still,” you mumble, frowning as Kishibe pulls his head back when you try to unwrap the gauze by his jaw. He has a frown of his own etched on his face, eyes shut and lips pulled tight with discomfort – you’d feel pity for him if he weren’t being so damn uncooperative. “You’re gonna tear your stitches.”
Your couch, despite serving as Kishibe’s resting place while he recovers from his injury, is likely not the most appropriate place to carry out some fairly intensive first-aid. However, you have no other choice since he refuses to go to the doctor to change his bandages.
One fucking hospital visit was enough, he’d muttered then, still drenched in his own blood, and you hadn’t the heart to argue with him.
That was two weeks ago now – fourteen days of sleeplessness, of antibiotics and pain medication and bruise balm for his ribs, of waiting until the dead of night to cry so that he doesn’t hear you.
You’re grateful that you weren’t there to witness it. It’s selfish, you’re well aware of that, but you’re not sure how you would have been able to cope if you had the images of the attack replaying in your head over and over, tormenting you both.
“Thought you’d be nice to me,” he grumbles, and although he can’t really smile with his injury you can still hear one in his voice. “Your bedside manner is lacking today.”
“I tried being nice at first. You told me to ‘ act like normal and stop treating me like I’m dying ’, so that’s what I’m doing,” you counter, carefully grabbing the corner of the medical tape.
He winces but doesn’t budge. “That doesn’t sound like me.”
“A direct quote, I’m afraid. And that was before they administered the morphine, so you can’t even blame it on that.”
You pull the tape gently, exposing the stitches and bruised skin. Kishibe tenses underneath you, every muscle in his body going rigid, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
It breaks your heart.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers. His voice is quieter now since talking too much can be painful. “Bring back the tough bedside manner. I take back my complaint; I need to be humbled.”
You blink, trying to fix your expression into one that’s more impassive.
“I’m just focusing on the stitches. I need to be careful at this part,” you say, knowing that both of you recognise the lie for what it is.
This feels foolish. It’s everything you feared about getting involved with another devil hunter. You’re supposed to be unshakeable, callous to all loss, utterly focused on the mission. You’re supposed to be tough.
Instead, you’re close to tears at the thought of what would have happened if the strike had landed just a few inches lower.
Things were supposed to be different. You were supposed to do this whole hunter thing by yourself. This was never the plan; to factor another person into your life in such a significant way, to value their well-being as highly as you do your own.
But he makes your days interesting. He’s kind at heart and values you as an equal as well as a partner. He always seems grateful to even be near you, and so you’ll happily tend to his wounds and keep him company, and even let him smoke indoors once the window is cracked.
You remove the old gauze carefully, clean the stitches according to the nurse's directions, and replace it with fresh bandages while Kishibe stays still, eyes squeezed shut.
“Nearly done,” you reassure him softly, applying the medical tape at a careful angle, “nearly done, I promise … and … there. All clean.”
He opens his eyes and lifts a hand to his cheek. He’s not going to tug at the gauze, he knows better than that, but he ghosts his fingers over the bandages as if to check they’re really there.
You smile and lean in closer to press a kiss to his forehead, feeling the breath catch in his throat as you pull back.
“It’s gonna make me ugly, y’know,” he says, letting out an amused scoff.
“More ugly?” you gasp. He lifts up his hand to playfully flick your nose.
Joking around like this is one of the only ways you know how to distract him, to show him this change is not going to upset things irreversibly. The last thing he wants is for you to be walking on eggshells around him. For his recovery to be a success he needs support, normalcy – he needs you to be yourself.
“Yep," he agrees. "A nasty scar to complete the whole image.”
You scoff and climb into his lap, feeling him sink back into the couch cushions, muscles releasing their tension. His injuries are almost entirely confined to the upper half of his body but you still move with incredible care and gentleness as if he’ll break underneath your touch. Sensing your hesitation, he wraps a strong arm around you, pulling you closer. It’s easy to melt against him.
“You know I could never find you ugly,” you reply with a chuckle, nestling against his shoulder. “I tried really hard, too. When we first got partnered up, I used to stare at you for hours trying to trick myself into finding you gross, but no luck. You’re stubbornly handsome and always will be. It’s a flaw of yours.”
“A flaw?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, voice muffled against his sweatshirt. “It’s really fucking annoying, actually.”
He kisses the crown of your head. “Ah, I can live with annoying .”
Even after the absolute chaos of the past fortnight, he still smells wonderful. Fresh and clean and familiar, with something deeper in there that draws you in even after smelling it a thousand times — it’s him.
You hum thoughtfully. “I’m glad, because for a while there it was really inconvenient. Wanting to fuck your annoying partner is not something they teach you about during training.”
“But did they tell how inconvenient it is to keep fucking him afterwards?”
You laugh a little, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with every passing moment.
With Kishibe’s health taken care of for now, you feel at ease. The sensation of being wrapped in his broad arms takes you back to the first night you fell asleep beside him, where you let go of your worries and concerns, trading them for a brief window of serenity.
It’s a type of comfort that you thought you could never have, a blessing only available to other people and never to devil hunters.
“Nah, I just kinda accepted it at that point.”
He says something in response, but you fall asleep before you hear it.
___
The pancake batter sizzles as it hits the pan, bubbles forming on the surface after a few moments on the heat – you finally got the temperature just right, and so you pour another serving alongside it for good measure.
Phew. You burnt the last one, and don’t have enough eggs for another batch.
This is your fourth time making pancakes this week since they’re a nice, soft food that can be easily cut up into tiny bites. They don’t cause too much strain to Kishibe’s jaw and you can flavour them with fruits and chocolate. Best of all, they’re significantly more appealing than the nutri-shakes the hospital supplied when he was discharged.
He took one sip before saying he’d rather you punch him directly on his dislocated shoulder than make him drink that shit again.
As if on cue, Kishibe’s voice calls out from the living room.
“Smells nice out there,” and it really does; the warm aroma of baked goods wafts through the air along with a hint of freshness from the fruits you prepared. It finally masks the smell of the smoke from the unsalvagable first batch. “Need any help?”
The offer sounds innocuous at first, but the desperation buried in the words tells you that he’s on the verge of disobeying his doctor’s orders.
“You’re on bed rest!” you shout back, stealing a chocolate chip from the bag on the countertop. The sweetness is enough to tempt you to grab another; this time, you pour a small handful and tip it into your mouth, savouring the taste.
You flip the pancakes with a spatula only to wince as the metal burns your finger – you hadn’t realised that you’d left it so close to the heat. You drop the spatula and it clatters against the tiled floor.
You groan, choosing to go clean the utensil before tending to your hand. It’s only a small injury but you grimace nonetheless as the pain starts to build, aching and throbbing. An angry welt forms on your fingertip.
It was careless on your part, but it’s not surprising that your attention span is somewhat lacking as of late. You run your hand under some cold water and get lost in the sensation.
Four days have passed since you last changed Kishibe’s bandages and two days since his most recent check-up (which you finally convinced him to attend), and things haven’t gone … smoothly, to say the least.
The doctor had kindly but firmly informed you both that in order for Kishibe to proceed to the next step in recovery, he needed to play it safe over the coming week. Unfortunately for him, playing it safe means that he has to actually get some rest.
A lot of rest.
He hadn’t even complained when receiving the news – he just sat there, utterly motionless, with displeasure and annoyance radiating off him like a fever. It worried you. This whole thing hasn’t been easy on you but it’s not exactly a walk in the park for him, either. He might pretend otherwise, but he doesn’t like to be benched. He’d do more to help you if he could.
As if it weren’t bad enough that he can’t hunt devils or even pay a visit to headquarters, now, he’s rendered completely and utterly defenceless, unable to even make himself a meal without assistance. It goes against every survival instinct in his body.
Part of you wishes he wouldn’t be so stubborn about saying on the couch. You had offered to share your bed with him - expected it, even - but he refused. Hurt at first, you hadn’t brought it up again, but once he understood your reaction he explained it was because his meds make him toss and turn in his sleep. He didn’t want to wake you.
Then you offered to take the couch instead since he’s the one recovering, after all. Again, he turned that down, but you didn’t take that refusal as much to heart as the first one.
This setup - him staying on the couch, allowing you your own space - seems to be the one bit of independence he can hold onto, the one way he thinks he’s making your life easier amongst all of this.
The buzzing of a timer startles you out of your trance, and you turn off the tap to go pour yourself a coffee.
You plate the pancakes and chop some berries and fruits to serve alongside them, angling the knife so it doesn’t put too much pressure on your finger. In spite of this, the burn starts to sting once again, the pain sharp and angry. You give up halfway through. Taking the plates in hand, you turn to bring them into your living room.
When you enter the room you see Kishibe already standing. His arms are folded casually across his chest despite the damage he sustained to his shoulder and ribs. He’s pacing slowly, fixated on the wall to your left-hand side – from the looks of it, he’s browsing the books on the shelf behind the couch. He seems to be scanning the titles with interest.
Something’s … different. In a strange way, a sort of déja vu that you can’t quite place.
As he spots you, head turning in your direction, you know from the look on his face what he’s about to offer. You cut him off before he can do so.
“Don’t need any help!” you inform him. “I can carry the plates – you’re supposed to be resting .”
“Not what I was gonna say, smartass,” he huffs in amusement, until his eyes flicker down to your hands and you know he can see how you’re favouring one side over the other, gingerly holding one of the plates so as not to aggravate your burn. He lifts his gaze up, a question written on his face as he regards you.
Playing ignorant, you choose not to address it. “So what were you gonna say, then?”
He’s not going to drop it entirely, of that you’re certain, but he does concede a little. He straightens his posture, a glint in his eye, and tells you, “I was thinking we could eat at the table tonight?”
His tone is light and ebullient, his demeanour carefree in a way you haven’t seen from him in a long time. He had spent the past two days in what could only be described as a pit of despair, and so to see this change now ... it stops you in your tracks.
You blink at him. “What?”
“Can we eat at the table?” he repeats. “Just this once.”
It seems harmless, but you’re not sure if it’s wise. The instructions from the doctor were for Kishibe to minimise unnecessary movement and stay well-rested.
(He had also been told to try and eliminate stress as much as possible, but the two of you had laughed at the last part.)
Still, you’re not sure if this is a good idea; the last thing you want is to set back his recovery, even at his own request.
“Please?” he follows up. The word stings you as much as the burn. “I just want to have a meal together like we always do. Just once, and then I’ll go back to bed. And I’ll shut the fuck up from here on - I won’t complain about the bandages or the shitty nutri-shakes or the exercises for my shoulder or whatever it is they want me to do - I won’t say a word about any of it,” he pauses and breathes in, breathes out. “Just a half an hour of being normal. Please.”
Looking at him now, it’s plain to see how being confined and restricted has eaten away at him.
You come to a decision quickly, happy that this won’t do too much harm. If anything, this might help his recovery somewhat.
“... for half an hour only,” you direct slowly, not breaking eye contact, “and absolutely no unnecessary movement. If you try to pick up the plates or push in chairs or anything, I’ll give you a matching scar on the other cheek.”
“Oh, I assumed as much,” he answers quickly, and millimetre by millimetre, his expression lifts into something that looks a lot more like him – like how he looked when you walked in the room, like how he’s looked at you since you first got partnered up together. Even with the bandages, you can see his lips quirk upwards; the closest thing to a smile as he can manage. “And I agree.”
He lets you carry the plates in without objection, and you eat your meal together in blissful silence.
It’s been a while since someone other than you has eaten at this table.
By the time you’re halfway through the stack of pancakes, some colour has returned to Kishibe’s complexion.
"Fuck, these are the best yet,” he says after a particularly big forkful, “which makes me a little confused, because I could hear you swearing for about fifteen minutes while you were making them.”
“Well, I burnt the first couple,” you point out, taking a few orange slices and setting them down on your plate, “which I’m sure you know since the smoke alarm is a rat bastard.”
“That's not all you burnt,” Kishibe remarks as he takes a sip of water.
You lift your head. “Hmm?”
He sets down his glass and takes your hand, flipping it so your palm is facing upwards. “I saw you holding the plates funny,” he frowns when he spots the welt on the tip of your index finger. “What happened?”
You can’t help but laugh. Kishibe was nearly eviscerated a few weeks ago, yet he’s here worrying about a burn that will fade in its entirety before the month is out.
“I burned it on the spatula,” you answer as he strokes circles on your palm with his thumb, “it was my own fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”
His eyes flicker up to yours and you wish you chose your words more carefully.
It was my fault.
Wasn’t paying attention.
My fault.
In amongst the near-constant worrying about his health and the gratitude at the fact he’s still alive, you can sometimes forget that it wasn’t only Kishibe who got hurt that day.
You open your mouth to say something but with a near-imperceptible shake of his head, he tells you that it’s not necessary.
“Did you put any burn gel on?” he asks then, moving on as if nothing happened.
You try to take your hand back but he clasps it gently. “No, not yet.”
He raises his eyebrows with mock surprise and you chuckle, letting your head fall back with a groan, predicting what’s coming next.
“Don’t start," you warn him.
He scoffs. “This coming from the person you gave me a lecture on how to properly care for wounds not two days ago-”
“Okay, okay, I’ll take care of the damn burn-”
“ - and about the importance of recovery and taking proper medical advice - ”
“Fucking hell, I’m doing it!” you exclaim with a laugh, pushing back your chair and letting go of his hand. “Who knew you could whip out the guilt trips like that?”
He shakes his head and shrugs his uninjured shoulder. “Not a guilt trip. Just pointing out the similarities.”
You stand up to leave but before going to the kitchen cabinet to fish out your heavily-used first aid kit, you lean down, tilt his face towards your own and press a soft kiss to his lips.
“You’re insufferable.”
He kisses you back. “Yeah, but you knew that already.”
---
He looks so … unlike himself. Hooked up to all these different machines, with gauze covering most of his upper body, he could be anyone.
You thought there’d be some recognition within you, some moment where you see him in the hospital bed and just know it’s him, but you don’t feel anything of the sort. It could be a stranger lying there for all you know. His face is covered, the clothes aren’t his, there are no distinguishing factors at all that make you think that the person in front of you is Kishibe.
Maybe they were wrong?
The Division officials might have made a mistake. The scene was chaos; there were so many people running around, so many casualties, it would have been easy for them to misidentify a person in an ambulance, to have shouted the wrong name by accident.
Maybe this isn’t him. Maybe he’s fine. He could be still at the scene helping to clear up, administering first-aid to the survivors …
But then you spot it – hanging on a coat rack in the corner of the hospital room is his jacket, torn and bloodied but still his. You walk over to it, movements so slow and mindless it’s as if you’re possessed.
You barely register the low buzzing of the machines. Even when they emit a loud beeping sound every now and then you can’t bring yourself to look at them directly. He’s being kept alive by these machines.
You stand by the coat rack and reach out a trembling hand. Some dust - no, it’s black, so it’s soot - starts to fall softly to the floor, almost like snow, and it stains your hand as you pull back the fabric to search for something. You rifle through the side pockets looking for it even though you know he never keeps it there, checking every nook and cranny –
There it is. His battered old lighter. It’s in the left-hand breast pocket, as always, but that was the last place you searched.
Your fingertips touch metal, tracing the outline of the lighter as your eyes start to sting. You breathe in through gritted teeth as you slip the lighter out of the pocket, clutching it in your palm as if it’s made of solid gold, and you turn it over to make sure it’s his.
You make a choked sound that thankfully catches in your throat before it turns into a sob.
You can’t cry here. The hospital is full of other hunters, milling about to try and find and identify any survivors. You can’t break down in front of them.
Although personal relationships between two partners aren't banned or even all that rare, displaying such open, raw vulnerability in front of everyone … it would mark you for death. To let other hunters see you weep for Kishibe would mean that, in their eyes, you have become weak, soft, unfit for this line of work. They would never trust you on a mission, and being untrusted while out in the field is a guaranteed death sentence.
A few tears might be excusable, but you know that the cry you just suppressed would have burst out like a dam breaking. It would have made it very clear that your relationship goes beyond that of coworkers.
It’s funny though, in a way; if they outright asked you just what your relationship actually is , you wouldn’t be able to tell them. You know it’s not casual – not anymore. The pit of agony in your stomach tells you that you’re even farther gone than you’d assumed.
But it’s not defined, either, and likely never can be.
You hear some people shuffle outside the hospital room as the door handle turns. You hastily raise your hand to your face and wipe at some tears that are threatening to spill, slipping Kishibe’s lighter into your own pocket as you do so.
Two nurses stride in and start to record some of the figures displayed on the machines, paying absolutely no attention to you. There’s a single chair in the corner of the room and so you go to sit down before your legs buckle underneath you.
You were warned it was going to be bad, and the hushed voices around you tell you that it can’t be good news.
When you arrived at the hospital they had asked if he had any family, if you could contact them, that they should really be here for this. They said that if he has any hope of survival, he needs support.
You can only hope that when he wakes, you’ll be enough.
___
Kishibe is no longer on bed rest, and he is delighted.
He’s definitely not out of the woods yet - he’s still on a list of meds as long as your arm - and he’s been ordered to only engage in the lowest-of-low impact activities; walking, essentially, and maybe cooking a quick meal or two. Nevertheless, he welcomed the news with open arms. He expected it would bring him a degree of freedom and independence he’d spent the past few weeks yearning for.
This morning, however, you’re discovering that this may not be the easiest milestone to have reached. Success and improvement aren’t guaranteed and he’s struggling more than he anticipated he would. He gets fatigued easily - walking from the kitchen down the hallway has his muscles aching and his body weak - and everything hurts. The many weeks spent without exertion have taken their toll.
He’s at the stage in his recovery where the long-term effects of his injuries are starting to make themselves known. It’s too soon to tell for sure, but it looks as though his shoulder might be damaged permanently; as he tries to reach above his head he winces in pain, even more intense than in previous weeks. The resulting hit to his morale is tough to see.
He tries to put on a brave face, but you can see right through it.
“Looks like you’re finally going to be the stronger one,” he jokes half-heartedly as you support him on his way back to the couch. He’s bearing most of the weight himself, but using your shoulder to keep steady. “Take this as my concession.”
“I was always the stronger one,” you mumble, lowering yourself down to let him sit.
He collapses onto the couch, face twisted in pain. “ Mentally stronger,” he concedes. “And emotionally, I guess. Better socially, too, if you count having to put up with the brass. But I think I’d have put up a good fight for the title of physically strongest.”
You scoff as you release him. “Even with your best fight, I’d have left with a clean sweep.”
With his good arm, he clutches his chest dramatically as if gravely offended.
“Would lying to you be nice?” you ask fondly, arranging the cushions on the couch so he can sit more comfortably. “I thought you were sick of the sugarcoating?”
Laughing, he drops his arm. “Guess not.”
“Good,” you smile, watching as he settles himself. “I like when you’re agreeable.”
He chuckles again. “Ever thought of being a doctor? You’d be good at it, if you gave up shit-talking your patients.”
“Well, my patients would probably be more reasonable,” you say with a yawn, subtly rolling out an ache in your shoulder from supporting Kishibe up and down the hallway. “I wouldn’t have to shit talk them as much.”
Even in this hypothetical context, it’s funny to think of a world in which you and Kishibe work normal jobs. People become devil hunters for two reasons: revenge or necessity, and sometimes both. But over time, those reasons start to twist and change, becoming stronger or weaker or more obscure, and through the course of their career, hunters often collect new motivations.
For you now, it’s just that you’re good at what you do - as good as your partner, if not better - and so you rarely let yourself think about what could have been had you chosen differently. It seems pointless.
“And if you leave, then what would I do?” Kishibe pipes up with a grin. It’s a little strained since you know he’s in considerable pain, but he does look as though he’s entertained by all these impossible scenarios. “When you’re off being a big-shot doctor - can’t really be a hunter then, can I?"
You sit down cross-legged next to the couch, a place you’ve spent countless hours as of late. If you checked, you’d probably find an indentation on the carpet. “Why can’t you be a hunter? They’ll just give you a new partner.”
He makes a noise somewhere between disagreement and disgust. You laugh, feeling a little bemused; you’re far from being his first partner, and he’s not yours, either. You’re not sure where he got this strong distaste towards the idea of working with someone new. It’s bound to happen eventually.
You take his hand in your own and give it a squeeze.
“Ah, I don’t think I’d want a new partner,” he admits casually. “I think I’m set.”
You arch a brow. “You know you won’t have to sleep with them, right? You can just work with them?”
“Wait, really?” comes his sarcastic retort, his expression taking on a forced and sudden seriousness. “Holy shit, that changes things. Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”
You release his hand for dramatic effect only for him to stubbornly take it back.
“... you’d really quit if I couldn’t be your partner anymore?” you ask after a moment has passed. The question gnaws at you, allowing your mind to revisit the prospects you had locked away in a box somewhere in its depths. You try to keep your face impassive as you can.
He nods as though there’s no need for him to even consider it. “Yeah, pretty sure.”
“And do what instead?”
“I dunno,” he shrugs. “Male modelling?”
You roll your eyes. “Be serious.”
“Ouch, first of all,” he huffs, only to be met with an amused glance from you, “and secondly – I’m not sure, really. I haven’t thought it through.” Well, that makes two of you, at least. “I just know that it … I know we’re told not to rely on our partners to the point of it becoming self-sacrificial, but the thing is - I think I’m gone past that point. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing. So, I just don’t think I could trust anyone as much as I do you.”
Something’s at the tip of your tongue; something that scares you.
You don’t say it. Instead, you just enjoy the easy silence, both of you indulging in the frivolous what if’s in your own minds.
The quietness is soon interrupted by the sound of an alarm buzzing in the kitchen
“Time for your meds,” you announce. You get to your feet and ignore your own fatigue.
“The ones that taste like shit?”
You shake your head. “Nah, the little tiny ones you can knock back with water.”
“What a relief,” he sighs, eyes following you as you head out to the kitchen. “Thanks, doc."
___
It’s not always so easy for Kishibe to keep things light-hearted. As the week progresses and his injuries show no signs of improvement, he has taken to napping during the day, more to let the time pass by quicker than anything else.
He seems less willing to do the exercises the doctors assigned him, and the tasks that he once begged you to let him do no longer carry the same appeal. He eats a meal with you at the table, chats for a few minutes, then returns to the living room. Afterwards, he stays quiet unless spoken to.
You know it has absolutely nothing to do with you. It’s not any form of silent treatment – in fact, you can see how he uses his very limited social battery to chat with you over dinner. His eyes still show fondness when he looks your way. He still kisses the crown of your head when you embrace him.
He’s just struggling. And you are too.
You’re reading a book - or trying to, at least - as Kishibe sleeps off the morning’s unsuccessful attempts at stretching out his shoulder. Your eyes are unfocused, the page before you blurry. You find yourself thinking of that first morning you woke up next to him.
When you woke up in your bed, rays of sunshine streaming through the curtains, you knew Kishibe was lying by your side. You didn’t even have to roll over to confirm it; you could smell his aftershave.
It’s not that you forgot - neither of you had too much to drink the night before - but it all felt so surreal that part of you thought it was a dream. But you felt so grounded that morning, Kishibe’s arm draped over your waist, and you knew it was all real from the soft sounds of his breathing next to you.
“You up?” he mumbled, his voice laced with sleep as it often is during your early-morning missions.
“Just about.”
“Will I get breakfast?” he asked as he suppressed a yawn. He made no attempt to move his hand away.
“I can get it. You paid for the cab,” you replied, not moving away from him either.
The cab. Last night. The cab you took home from the bar, to sleep with your partner, to make a decision with irreversible consequences.
Though funnily enough, the regret hadn’t hit you yet. You half-expected to wake up in a cold sweat, having come to the realisation that entertaining your feelings for Kishibe was the stupidest mistake you ever made.
But you didn’t feel anything of the sort. This was … easier than you had expected. It was like a piece of your day-to-day routine you hadn’t realised you were missing.
You rolled out of bed and looked at him, his hair touseled from sleep and a satisfied smile on his face, and it took only that one glance to make you crawl back under the covers and let him take you apart over and over again.
The pattern continued over the following weeks, months. You worked as normal, bickered as you always did, and then went home together most nights. Your dynamic didn’t change all that much, except maybe for the fact that you were a little gentler with each other – not in the field, of course, but in the mornings when you woke up with bloodshot eyes and tired limbs.
Of course, relationships don’t tend to work on that trajectory; the idea that you can just coexist forever without anything ever changing. Happy as you were, you knew things wouldn’t continue undefined, unexplored. Something would come along to disrupt things. Something big, something you weren’t prepared for –
Just then, Kishibe stirs. You drop your book to your lap, ready to leap up to assist if needed, but he falls back into a restless sleep after a few moments pass.
Despite everything, you smile. His morale may have taken a hit but he’s still trying, trying every single day, to get better. That hard work can’t just be for nothing. You’ll both see improvement soon.
You’ve gotten this far together, you think to yourself, and he just might make an optimist out of you yet.
You thought he fell back asleep, but …
He says it so softly that he could just be sleep-talking, but the words cut clear through the air, repeating in your mind on a loop until you can no longer think of anything else.
“Love you.”
___
It’s a bad night for Kishibe.
Yesterday was his first attempt at sharing your bed, a fairly significant milestone in itself, but the pain kept him awake all through the night, tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning. Though you swore that you didn’t mind (and you meant it), he’s returned to the couch this evening and there was no convincing him otherwise. He stayed silent while you tried to argue your case.
However, you weren’t about to let him isolate himself indefinitely or stand idly by as he wallowed in his own imagined failures, and so tonight, you decided to stay with him.
You’re curled up in an armchair on the other side of the room, wrapped in a blanket and resting your head against the velvet cushion behind you, watching in silence as his face twists in pain to the point it’s almost unrecognisable, clutching his sides as his aching muscles try to heal themselves.
His breath sounds torn and ragged as it leaves him, but apart from that, he makes no verbal signs of discomfort. You start to worry that he’s holding back for your benefit.
Obviously, you don’t want to hear the sounds of his suffering, but the idea that he’s trying to act tough or unbreakable or any of that other bullshit you stopped caring about long ago …
He sucks in a shallow breath and his hands ball into fists, his knuckles turning white as he does so.
You catch a glimpse of the clock above the window; it’s just after two a.m., which explains why it’s been a few hours since you’ve heard the sound of traffic or footsteps from the street below floating through the cracked window. You rub your tired eyes with the back of your hand.
Ordinarily, you’d be in bed by now, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. The thought of him being here alone in the dark, sweating bullets as he tries to struggle through the pain … you know you wouldn’t be able to get a wink of sleep.
Just then, Kishibe makes his first utterance of pain; a low sound that gets caught in his throat, but you still hear it.
You shrug off the blanket and rise up from your chair, quietly pacing across the room. You sit down on your haunches by the sofa and Kishibe opens his eyes – exhausted, bloodshot eyes that have something of an apology in them.
He opens his mouth to say something but you just reach your hand out to cup his cheek. Your thumb traces slow, soothing circles and he leans into the touch, almost mesmerised by the movement. You don’t say anything, don’t try to crowd him or lay next to him or get him to talk unnecessarily; your touch alone is enough reassurance. His gaze softens.
It’s been a week since he told you that he loved you. It’s been six days and twelve hours since you said it back. Neither of you has said it since, but you don’t really need to. This is enough.
The only perceptible sounds in the room are that of the two of you breathing and the tick-tick-ticking of the clock behind you, but you can easily tune that out, choosing instead to focus on how Kishibe’s chest is now rising and falling at a much steadier pace, on how the divot between his brows has fully relaxed.
Your thumb gently grazes over the reddened skin on his cheek but he feels no pain from it – he told you before that the scar by his jaw is as close to fully healed as he’ll get it. His eyes flutter shut as you keep up your gentle caresses, but you don’t stop. You keep going as if it’s offering some comfort to you as well.
This started out as a bad night, but it just might turn into one of those rare occasions where Kishibe gets more sleep than you do.
And you don’t mind at all.
___
Kishibe finishes his first complete set of exercises the following morning.
Two days later and he can walk unsupported, up and down the hallways – it tires him out, but he can do it. He sleeps the full night in your bed afterwards.
He’s more proactive, too, in his recovery. He’ll make an effort to keep to a schedule, which certainly helps to keep him from falling back into that pit of despair. He responds better to feedback from doctors. That familiar glint in his eye returns, as does his sense of humour. He starts to smile more.
As the days pass, his progress becomes more and more apparent - an exercise here, an independent task there - and it all adds up to a far more encouraging picture than what was painted at the beginning.
It’s not all good news, of course; there are still signs of long-term damage to his shoulder. His range of movement will likely never be the same.
But crucially, his outlook has changed. He no longer carries himself like a burden.
As a result, you’re sleeping through the night again – it’s easier to wake up in the mornings knowing your day will have a sense of normalcy.
Though come to think of it … it’s hard to pin down what ‘normalcy’ will even look like from this point on.
As he continues to improve, you find yourself considering it more and more. Will it involve you going back to work? Or will it be both of you returning to life as Devil Hunters, living life exclusively in the short-term, never planning or aspiring to anything else?
You doubt that’s even possible. Maybe ‘normal’ isn’t something that is casual, unlabelled. Maybe ‘normal’ isn’t about just hooking up and going your separate ways the next morning.
Maybe it hasn’t been like that for a while now.
___
“You take good care of me, y’know?”
You lift your head, surprised; you thought Kishibe was asleep. It’s midday and he’s stretched out in your bed - he had the last of his stitches from surgery removed yesterday; the new medication makes him drowsy - and the last time you glanced in his direction, his eyes were closed.
“Whatcha mean?”
You ask the question through a mouthful of piping-hot vegetable soup, having made yourself a bowl while he napped. Sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed with a book in your other hand, you have the bowl carefully perched on your lap – eating in bed is not a common occurrence at your place, but you don’t like leaving Kishibe unaccompanied while the meds are wearing off. This way, you’re within reaching distance of him should anything happen.
“Everything okay?” you follow up when you don’t get an answer.
“Yeah, all okay,” he mumbles, his voice sleepy but still achingly fond. His eyes are still closed, a lazy grin on his face; you have to imagine that it still hurts for him to smile, but he seems to take some novelty in the fact that he can do it at all. “I was just saying: you take good care of me. Really good care.”
You chuckle softly as you take another sip of the broth. All it took was his stitches being removed and the sentimentality just starts pouring out.
“Is this because of that stuff you were saying last week?” you ask amusedly, recalling his reluctant praise for your first-aid skills and how he said you’d make a great doctor . “About me quitting and getting into medicine?”
“Maybe?” he answers with the lilt of a question. He sounds a little hazy, almost unsure of whether he even knows himself.
Now properly awake, he starts to sit up in bed, clasping his hands behind his head as his lower back stays supported by pillows – again, likely pushing the boundaries of his comfort, but he seems unperturbed by it.
Despite the fact that he’s only wearing a t-shirt and that the windows are thrown open to allow some fresh air into the room, his cheeks are flushed pink. His hair is messy, too, the soft black strands pushed back as though he’s run a hand through it.
He smiles at you as you eat, eyes scanning your face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was trying to commit it to memory.
It takes a while for realisation seems to dawn on him, for him to figure out what he had initially meant to tell you.
“I just … wanted to tell you you’re great at this,” he says then, with considerably more determination this time. “At all of this. And to say how much I appreciate it. To thank you, as if that’s even enough.”
You lower the spoon from your lips and shoot him a bemused look.
“You a little stoned off the pain meds, huh?” you tease. “They got you on the good stuff?”
He laughs. “Yep, a bit.”
“Knew it.”
“But I’m still telling the truth,” he continues with a shrug, and he sounds so sure of himself, “pain meds or no pain meds.”
“Always honest to an absolute fault,” you remark quietly, stirring distractedly as he gives you a wry smirk.
And it’s true.
His honesty wasn’t the easiest thing to get used to at first. Teasing and flirtation aside, when it came down to it, Kishibe could be blunt – to the extent that it caused quite a few spats in the early days of your partnership.
However, somewhat reluctantly and without any conscious decision on your part, you got used to it over time. It went from aggravating to just annoying to tolerable , and now, you figure that his honesty is more of a virtue than anything else.
In your line of work especially, you can’t rely on someone who sugarcoats things and builds up a false sense of security. Dependability is everything. You’d rather hear the truth from him than something that could get you killed.
He’s an honest hunter. Part of you wonders if outside of work, he’s picking up some of your bad habits.
You slide off the bed and set your bowl down on the nightstand as his gaze follows you. When you return, you hop up next to him, laying down by his side. He shuffles over to make space and you pull the covers up halfway, staying on your side, propped up on an elbow and resting your chin against your hand.
Then, you just look at him, taking in the relative peacefulness that he hasn’t been able to enjoy in so long.
“Okay, in the spirit of honesty,” you begin, smiling to match the expression on his face. “Want to tell me how I’ve been taking good care of you?”
“Fishing for compliments?”
“Oh, always.”
“Well now who’s being honest?”
You raise your eyebrows as a means to challenge him; he relents with a laugh.
“Fine, fine. Want to hear me sing your praises?”
You nod instantly and he rolls his eyes without any malice. With a fond shake of his head, he starts to speak.
“Okay, where to start? I mean, I suppose firstly; you’re here all the time. I like that I can go to sleep at night and then wake up in the mornings, knowing that you’re here.”
You snort at the candour and his straightforward delivery. “Is this your way of telling me to back off? Because I won’t be offended. Too much, anyway.”
Kishibe barks out a laugh.
“Nah, the opposite, actually,” he corrects you, his eyes twinkling, but then grimaces in pain as he rolls out a kink in his shoulder. You shift over to go and help him, but thankfully, the jolt of discomfort passes as soon as it hits. You return to resting on your elbow but stay a little closer this time.
“I want you here as much as possible,” he says then, a softness to the words. “So I can take good care of you, too.”
Oh. Huh. You truthfully weren’t expecting that.
You chuckle, unable to think of any other way to respond. Ignoring the heat creeping up your neck, you try not to read too much into it.
“You do take good care of me — saved me from that pack of fiends back in January, for one. Talked me out of signing a contract with that Devil, for another -”
He shakes his head by means of interruption, clearly dissatisfied with the angle you’re taking.
“I don’t just mean work stuff. I mean … I don’t know, doing extra stuff.”
Your brow furrows in confusion.
“Like more than what partners do?” you ask, genuinely curious. It’s hard to think of anything he could do for you that he hasn’t already done. You share a relationship of equals; you’ve never wanted for anything.
“More than what partners do,” he agrees, tilting his head to the side. “I meant … like what husbands do.”
Oh.
Oh.
You blink at him. He blinks back. Neither one of you says anything else.
An unfamiliar sensation rushes through you like a wave, starting in your chest and spreading up and out to your limbs, and it’s such a strong, visceral feeling that you have no idea how you can’t place it.
Surely something this intense has a name?
Kishibe looks far more composed than you feel, far more composed than he arguably should be considering what was just said.
Other than his light blush and the way his pupils are just a little blown out, he seems unruffled.
You, on the other hand, are decidedly not .
Then, before you can even begin to formulate something resembling an answer, he ups the stakes once again.
“Move in with me,” Kishibe says, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question, and it’s as though a year’s worth of unspoken words are hitting you at once.
In a way, you suppose they are.
Unable to do anything else, you sit up straight, lips parting helplessly while no words come out.
If Kishibe is concerned by your lack of response, he doesn’t show it. He stays where he’s sitting, patiently awaiting an answer without so much as an anxious fidget.
An answer.
Your answer.
You search for one desperately, trying to pick just one decipherable thought amongst the thousands rushing through your mind right now …
But before one comes to you, a lightbulb goes off. You don’t have to give an answer – no, you shouldn’t give one, considering that Kishibe’s on medication, recovering from weeks of pain and rehabilitation, and he’s not thinking things through right now.
Of course, you think to yourself as the waves start to subside, this isn’t an official offer. He’ll forget all about this in the morning.
Rather than stress him out with complications or details or promises that he may not even be aware he’s making, you decide to give him an out. To give him the opportunity to revisit this another time.
You twist to the side to look at him, hoping your face doesn’t betray you. He looks back expectantly.
“Maybe you should get some sleep-”
“I don’t need sleep,” he objects, frowning now. “I’m being serious. This isn’t the drugs talking - well, maybe part of it is, I don’t know … but I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
You laugh softly, marvelling at the absurdity of this conversation. “You want me to move in with you?”
He nods. “And, to be completely honest, I want a lot more than that.”
You know it’s a bad idea to push further, but your curiosity wins out. “Like what?”
“I want to marry you,” he answers matter-of-factly, and your heart goes from beating too fast to stopping entirely. “I want to wake up next to you in the mornings. I want to see you before we go to sleep every night. And if we get there and decide it’s something we can do, I want to have babies with you and see them grow up in a house we own together. I want to stay with you every day until we’re old as shit and you really do find me ugly.”
He stops speaking like he’s run out of breath. Similarly, you feel as though you can’t get enough air into your lungs.
You hadn’t realised that you’d started trembling.
What he’s saying … it sounds like an indulgence. Something that’s so normal for so many, but so unbelievably idealised in your own mind that you hadn’t even allowed yourself to hope for it.
How can you possibly plan for your lives together when you can only take things week-by-week, grateful for every morning you wake up unscathed?
But now … Kishibe isn’t unscathed. The worst-case scenario actually happened, but instead of running away when faced with the harsh truth of your mortality, you both got through it. You stayed by his side, caring for and comforting him. He, in turn, placed his trust in you, entirely and without hesitation. And you know that things would be the same if the roles were reversed.
But that doesn’t mean … you’ve never even thought about … how could you begin to take on all of those responsibilities …
Almost as if he’s reading your mind, he elaborates.
“But I don’t mean - I don’t want to force you into a life you don’t want, or anything like that. We don’t need to do it the traditional way. I don’t care about the official papers or the white picket fence or any of that bullshit, and the kids thing is a whole other conversation too, and … shit, I didn’t mean this to pressure you,” he says, and you know he really means it. “It’s just … I don’t know … with everything that’s gone on, I think I’d regret it if I didn’t say it.”
As the words sink in, something inside you clicks into place.
So that’s the feeling you just experienced: true regret.
Regret that you hadn’t said something like this earlier.
Regret that you’d lived a whole life without even allowing yourself a glimpse at the other possibilities.
Regret that it took Kishibe nearly dying to get this far, that you had wasted so long pointlessly holding back the inevitable.
But with the regret came a sense of relief as well, relief so great that it feels like a deep breath after being held underwater. Relief that offers your racing mind some much-needed clarity.
You look at him with a smile and his shoulders relax.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
He exhales - you hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath - and nods slowly. “Okay, good,” he says gently. “Is that your answer?”
You shake your head once. “Not quite; I do want you to get some sleep first. I need to be a thousand per cent sure this isn’t influenced by those meds. Then I’ll give the official answer,” you finish, ensuring the words are delivered softly so he knows it isn’t a rejection.
Thankfully, he doesn’t interpret it as one. “Fair enough. Can’t argue there.”
You lean over to kiss him then hop out of bed to let him rest, picking up the bowl to take back to the kitchen. In preparation for his nap, he settles himself in amongst the pillows and blankets, beaming from ear to ear.
“See you soon, doc.”
You head out, laughing, and just as you’re about to close the door behind you, you call out over your shoulder.
“If this is going to happen, you need to do some serious work on those godawful pet names.”
___
At some point that night, Kishibe wakes next to you. He’d been in and out of sleep all day and you’d dozed off hours around midnight, but you’re not sure what time it is when your eyes open instinctually at the sound of him stirring.
The air feels heavy but warm, almost like an embrace.
“You awake?” he asks softly, but his words are clear and crisp. The medication’s worn off.
You don’t roll over, don’t shift in place. You stay lying there, staring at the ceiling, feeling your eyes inexplicably prickle with tears.
Happy tears, for once in your life.
“Mhmm,” you agree softly once you’ve cleared your throat. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s okay.”
The only visibility in the room is from the moonlight trickling through a small opening in the curtains; not enough for you to see his face, but you know he means it from those two words alone.
It’s time to make good on your promise.
“You’re really sure?” you ask then. “About what you said, earlier?”
A beat of silence.
“Yeah. I meant it.”
Another moment of pure quiet, slow and sedated, without so much as the sound of a car passing outside.
You breathe in deeply.
“Then yes. My answer’s yes.”
___
It’s difficult to pinpoint the moment at which Kishibe officially moved in. You both agreed that it was better for him to move into your place as opposed to finding somewhere new - he practically lives here already, plus you hate packing - and for lack of an official move-in date, today seems as good as any. Kishibe has finally been given the all-clear: a clean bill of health, with minimal long-term damage. The relief is so profound you could cry.
And so tonight, you’ll toast his recovery and celebrate the move, celebrate getting to this point together, celebrate the good habits you’ve picked up from each other and the fact that you’re not as terrible at this as you once feared.
Kishibe doesn’t have much left back at his old apartment, which makes the move-in process short and sweet. This morning he had gone back to hand in his key to the landlord, packed a suitcase with the few belongings that he hadn’t already moved over, and arrived back at your door with a smile on his face and an expensive bottle of whiskey in hand.
Now, he’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Your offers to help him are pointedly ignored. In his words, he wants to start repaying the favour for all you’ve done – you explain that he doesn’t need to repay anything but he’s typically insistent – and, truth be told, it’s nice to sit back with a glass of whiskey while a meal is served to you.
You enjoy the delicious smells wafting through the kitchen, the sight of Kishibe humming along to one of his vinyls as it spins in the record player on the countertop. You laugh as he tries (and fails) to hit one of the high notes.
He, in turn, appreciates the look on your face when he serves up the dish in front of you. He marvels at your strength, your resilience. He never imagined he’d be grateful for almost dying.
Hours pass with the two of you eating, talking, drinking, acknowledging your mutual ignorance over the course of your partnership - you think back to a time long before his injury when Quanxi mailed a package intended for him to your address, assuming that the two of you were already living together - and you feel your heart swell at how your little apartment is, for the first time, full of laughter and levity.
After the meal has been enjoyed and the kitchen cleaned spotless by a highly-motivated Kishibe, you retire to the couch for the evening to sit together, not to rest. In a perfect world, that couch will never need to be slept on again.
As you settle on the couch, you don’t miss how Kishibe’s gaze lingers on you – the later the hour gets, the more heated glances the two of you share. You feel a pleasant heat creep up your neck as his eyes trail downward.
You mindlessly flick through the channels, settling on some shitty murder mystery you have no intention of actually watching. He wraps his arms around you and you lean your head back against his shoulder, draping his arm over your waist.
You hadn’t realised that the hem of your t-shirt had lifted a couple of inches until a few minutes later when you feel his fingertips graze against the exposed skin by your hip. It’s only the lightest of touches but it feels incendiary .
Your enthusiastic reaction is understandable since you obviously haven’t been able to share any physical intimacy since his injury. His health, understandably, took priority, but now you’re now far more reactive to his touch after months of going without it. He notices.
Testing the waters, you push back against him and feel him already half-hard against your lower back.
“I know what you’re doing,” he murmurs softly, his breath hot against the back of your neck. Your laugh is saccharine, playing innocent.
You missed feeling him like this. You’d gotten so used to this type of intimacy, so familiar with each other’s bodies.
Bored of the movie you’d barely been pretending to watch, you crane your neck around to press your lips to his jawline, only barely skimming the sensitive skin. He makes a gruff sound of approval that catches in his throat, and before the moment has passed, he has you lifted up and around onto his lap, pulling you in for a heated kiss.
Wasting no time, apparently.
It hadn’t taken much to get him going, but then again, it has been a while — you can’t fault him for his eagerness when you're just as excited yourself.
You return his kiss, eager and hungry as his tongue pushes into your mouth. This is far messier than usual – in the past, you’ve taken your time with soft, languid kisses, gentle caresses, but this is different; heated, urgent, as though you physically can’t stand the absence of his touch.
With immense self-control you pull back, looking with hooded eyes as a thin string of saliva connects your mouth to his.
“Bed,” you choke out, the whisper barely audible as it leaves you, but he responds without question. He helps you up from the couch and grasps your hand firmly as you head down the hallway.
Once the bedroom door closes behind you, he half-guides, half-pulls you onto the bed with him. You don’t even have time to gasp. Within a matter of seconds, he’s lying on his back in the centre of the bed as you hastily move to straddle him, the movements a little unpolished and frenzied but you’re past the point of caring about appearances.
Your lips are so close to his that you share a breath before he pulls you in for another messy kiss. You grind down on his clothed cock and he shudders, grabbing your hips and grinding back, marvelling at the fact that he can finally, finally touch you like this again.
“Do you have any idea how much I’ve fucking missed this?” he whispers into the shell of your ear, having moved his kiss-swollen lips to nip and suckle at your pulse point until you can feel his mark against it. “Weeks and weeks of having to look without being able to touch,” you tug his shirt up a few inches, mirroring his earlier movements on the couch. You gently drag your nails over his lower stomach, over his hips, running your fingers around the waistband of his pants, “… fucking hell, fuck, I missed this so fucking much …”
You want to hear more. Every word sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps prickling on your skin, and so you push him a little more; “how badly did you want to touch?”
He laughs disbelievingly, the sound canting up into a sharp gasp when you slip your hand fully into his pants, cupping the bulge in his underwear. “W-well,” another shaky pant, “it’s … shit, it’s most of what I thought about the past month,” a groan this time, “...at least .”
“Mm?”
You lean in to kiss his neck, clouding his thoughts even further. He makes an admirable attempt at continuing; “yeah … spent every night thinking about the thousand different ways I want to touch you,” you nip his earlobe with your teeth, “... lick you, fuck you,” he swallows thickly. “And how could I not?”
You straighten up, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath. “What do you mean?”
His breath is heavy as you start to stroke him through his underwear. You feel a bit mean for making it so hard for him to reply, but his shaky moans and the way his muscles tense as you touch him are too much to resist.
To his credit, he gives his answer. “How could I not feel that way when I was there on the couch, thinking about you in our bed? Imagining being able to just reach my hand down and make you come on my fingers, imagining how good you’d taste … knowing you were just down the hallway … holy fuck, it nearly killed me.”
“Nearly killed you, huh?”
He nods, letting out a short laugh. “Part of the reason I insisted on the couch.”
You yelp with surprise as he hauls you further up his body – you remember his strength all too well, but hadn’t expected him to regain most of it so quickly.
“And you know what I wanted most of all?” he asks once you’ve steadied yourself against his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead before helping you tug off your shirt.
Once your upper half is bare you shake your head to answer his question, going to open the buttons of his shirt with unsteady hands. You get the top one open, then the second, then the third -
His grin turns salacious. “For you to sit on my face.”
That’s enough to shock you into halting your movement. Your whole body heats, anticipation crackling through you. “I - what?”
His large hands rest against your bare hips before moving up, up, up over your waist and ribs and finally, your breasts, cupping them in his hands and running his thumbs over your peaked nipples.
“… for you to sit on my face, please ?”
A giggle slips out in spite of everything.
Months of not getting to touch like this, and that’s what he wants to do first? You’re not going to object too strongly, but; “I didn’t … I just … don’t you want me to do something for you?”
He smiles again, looking up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, as though he could devour you right now and it would be the best thing that ever happened to him. “This is for me.”
Well, no use in arguing any further. Wordlessly, you shrug off your skirt and underwear, tossing them on the floor as Kishibe’s eyes stay locked at the apex of your thighs. He lays his head back down on the pillow, practically beaming.
You move to the top of the mattress, using the headboard for leverage as you angle yourself over him, thighs caging his head. Too far gone to feel any self-consciousness about your vulnerable position and how evidently wet you already are, you spread your legs further and slowly lower yourself over his mouth, feeling his breath against your soaking folds. Shaking already, you approach and just about feel him –
You half-expected him to tease, but he doesn’t; as soon as you’re close enough, he cranes his neck to run his tongue all the way through your entrance, slow and deliberate.
It’s hot, almost unbearably so, and you can’t help but cry out as your head falls back involuntarily. His movements stay slow and tantalising as he savours the taste of you, eating you out in a way that could almost be described as leisurely .
Any words of praise you want to give him die a sudden death, caught at the back of your throat as keens and gasps and broken fractions of syllables are the only sounds that escape – you can only hope they are sufficient in getting your point across.
They do. He groans his approval, spreading you open with his thumbs, marvelling as your thighs start to tremble with every motion he makes. Your fingers hurt from how tightly you’re gripping the headboard.
Your back arches, desperate to seek more of the sensation that’s sending sparks through your entire body, but he’s careful and methodical in the way he takes you apart. He takes his time, sucking your throbbing clit into his mouth and applying just enough pressure that the build is steady but aching. You start to rock back and forth against the wet heat, trying to resist the urge to ride his face.
He suddenly pulls his mouth away and you almost weep at the loss of contact.
“You don’t have to be careful with me, y’know,” he points out, the lower half of his face drenched already, “I’ve got a full bill of health, so please don’t hold back on my account.”
“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, and your clit gives an answering throb when he presses a closed-mouth kiss to it.
“I wanna see you squirm on top of me,” he answers, low and heated now, and so you do what’s asked of you.
Sinking back down on him, you start to writhe as his tongue presses flat against your folds, dragging up to circle the bundle of nerves, focusing solely on getting you as close to the edge as possible.
It goes from feeling too careful to too much . Too intense. It feels like a hot ball of fire building in your core, with every probe of Kishibe’s tongue stoking the flames.
Then, just as easily as breathing, it goes from too much to just perfect.
You weren’t expecting the feeling of his stubble against your thighs at this angle to be so uniquely pleasant. It stings a little as you rise and fall, yes, but it adds a whole new sensation that makes you keen almost pathetically, desperate for everything he’s giving you. Every lick against your slick flesh makes you throb, your swollen clit grateful for the friction.
You sink your fingers into his soft hair. “More, fuck, please. I need more.”
He uses his hands to gently push your lower back, prompting you to bend and change the angle which makes his nose graze against your clit. You feel one, then two fingers slip inside you and work you open, the pressure building in your core as your body desperately chases release, moving in whatever way necessary in order to get it.
Just as you feel yourself approach the edge, you distantly hear Kishibe mumble something between your thighs. As good as the vibrations feel, you raise yourself up to hear him speak.
“Can you - can you -” he mumbles, the words slurring.
“Hmm?” you ask, a little cruelly, running a hand through his hair and admiring the view beneath you.
“Ride me?” he asks. “Please, please fucking ride me … I know it’s not suave or cool to beg, but please, I need to know what you feel like around me. Fuck, I missed it so much.”
You don’t answer with words, instead moving down his body until you’ve reached his thighs. You straddle them, and when you pull him in for another heated kiss. you can taste yourself on his mouth. He moans into it, thrusting his hips up between your spread thighs, and you decide he’s wearing far too many clothes.
You unbutton his pants with one hand, keeping the other at the back of his neck as you deepen the kiss. He opens his mouth and gasps into the kiss as you take him out of his underwear, his cock so hard it seems almost painful as it bobs against his stomach. He shudders when you slip your hand from his neck down his torso, index finger tracing his chest before you take him in your hand, giving his shaft a few lazy pumps to tease him.
“Please?” he asks once more, pupils blown out with desire, and you don’t feel like denying him (or yourself) for much longer.
You position your hips until they’re seated above his, your fingers still loosely wrapped around his cock which twitches against your touch, and you only let go of it to brace yourself on his shoulders.
You circle your hips so the head of his cock rubs against your slit; when it catches against your clit you let out a shocked mewl.
He smiles up at you. You smile back, and then you sink down onto him.
“Oh fu-u-uck,” he groans with every inch that slips inside, struggling to keep from bucking up into the heat enveloping him. “How … how do you feel even fucking better than I remembered?”
You feel the stretch even though you’re soaked, but it’s not unpleasant given how well he prepared you.
He lets you set the pace as you ride him, pulling yourself up until he’s almost slipping out before sinking back down to the hilt, your slick walls coating his cock.
For you, too, it feels better than you remembered. Even though you’re arguably more desperate, more fervent tonight than you have been before, time seems to move slower. It no longer feels as though these are just stolen moments that you need to savour before they’re gone forever.
This feels nothing like that – this feels wonderful, unending.
You quicken the pace as his hips start to buck up into yours. He seems as though he’s resisting the urge to start erratically thrusting up into you, rutting into the heat that’s enveloping him so perfectly. He bites his lower lip hard.
“Can’t believe … fuck …” he whispers, looking up at you with something that can only be described as pure reverence. “... can’t believe I get to have this. Get to have you.”
With that, all measure of self-control is out the window; you speed up your motions and he fucks into you desperately, hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure you’ll still feel it tomorrow. Every cell in your body seems to burn hot as you lose yourself in the sensation.
“S-so good, so, so good …”
When his thrusts turn sloppy and his words start to slur, you know he’s approaching his peak.
It’s close, you can tell it’s close …
However, you reach yours first; the orgasm hit you out of nowhere, the usual build-up lost to the overwhelming sensation. Your vision goes white as you throw your head back, crying out his name over and over again until it echoes in your ears. Unending pleasure wracks your body and happily, you let it.
All it took was that sight – you, repeating his name like a prayer as you come undone above him – and he’s spilling inside you with a low groan.
You hear your own name falling repeatedly from his lips as he thrusts as deep as he can, ignoring the aftershocks that start when you keep pulsing around him. He’s so beautiful like this it nearly hurts you.
Exhausted, your upper body collapses against his chest and he wraps his arms around you, pressing your sweat-damp foreheads together as he gives a few more shallow thrusts.
He doesn’t pull out for a little while longer, and when he finally does, he keeps you tucked against him in a tender embrace, filling the room with words of praise.
How wonderful you are, how perfect. How loved.
The two of you have all the time in the world, and you’re more than content to spend it this way.
___
When you wake up the next morning, you immediately notice that Kishibe isn’t in bed next to you. Your heart sinks as you roll over – his side of the bed is still warm so he can’t have gone too far, but you didn’t even hear him leave.
You sit up with a start.
Was this too much? Is he panicking? Is the reality too different from the fantasy you both had come up with?
But before your worries escalate to something more, you pick up some soft sounds coming from the kitchen; pots and pans clanging gently, as if someone’s trying to use them as quietly as possible without waking you.
The faint scent of coffee hits you then, wafting through the gap in the door, along with an aroma you’ve become very familiar with over the past while.
Pancakes.
You let out a short, relieved chuckle. It’s second nature for you to expect the worst and it will take a lot of unlearning, but you figure that there’s no better person to experience that with than your partner.
You yawn as you slide out of bed - you didn’t get much sleep last night, after all - before shrugging on a robe and padding down the hall.
“Really leaning into the domesticity, are we?” you call out as you enter the kitchen, spotting Kishibe by the stove with a frying pan in hand. True to form, he has two mugs of coffee ready and holds one out to you as you approach – you accept it with a grateful squeeze of his hand, lifting the cup to your lips and savouring the bittersweet taste. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he picked your favourite mug.
“Indulge me?” he asks as he flips a pancake, taking a sip of his own brew, and you make a sound of agreement.
“Never said it was a bad thing,” you add with a smile, blowing softly to cool down the drink before taking a seat at the little table in the corner. He has it set for breakfast - a cup of sugar, a little jug of milk, some sliced fruits are laid out in front of you, along with cutlery and plates - and he even has the newspaper folded on the table despite neither one of you ever reading it.
To say that it’s endearing is an understatement; you’ve earned one or two clichés of domestic life.
He joins you once the pancakes are finished - “ how the hell did you manage to not burn a single one?” - and pulls his chair closer to yours. He glances at you when you take the first bite, almost self-conscious in the way he watches you eat, looking relieved when you hum your approval.
“So,” he begins, after taking a bite of his own. “Think you’ll be going to work on Monday?”
Though his tone is conversational, you know the question is loaded. It’s not accusatory in the slightest - you know he will respect whatever decision you arrive at as long as you come home to him afterwards - but he just needs to know, to prepare for whatever course you both choose to take.
You think for a moment. You assume, based on the trajectory this conversation has taken, that you’ll need to look at other prospects. You’re not sure if you’ll quit outright – if that’s even possible – but you think it might be time for an extended hiatus in the devil-hunting department.
The Division would have no hesitation in replacing you should you get injured or be killed in action – they can cope without you for a few months. Or longer.
“I think I’ll call in sick,” you reply in between sips of coffee.
“Really?” he queries with a grin, turning to face you – you can’t help but match it. “‘Cos I think I will too.”
You nod confidently, feeling your heart swell in your chest.
cw: brief mention of violence and threat (not graphic), consumption of alcohol/cigarettes, explicit sexual content (oral sex f! receiving, fingering, hand jobs, vaginal sex) - NSFW, MDNI
word count: 8.9k
a/n: thinking about how young cocky annoying kishibe showed up for 3 panels and changed the trajectory of my life forever ... so here's 9k words of kinda-sorta-enemies slash annoying colleagues to lovers .... with a tiny splash of angst too for good measure? i just love this man and think he's a secret softie so here's him successfully pulling for once <3
___
“You’d really say no to a smoke?”
Kishibe’s question sounds disbelieving as he holds out the box of cigarettes in your direction. Instead of answering, you choose to wave away his offer dismissively. Still shocked, he continues, “you’re not even a little tempted?”
You roll your eyes. You’re one of few devil hunters in the Public Safety Division that rarely, if ever, smokes; a fact that makes you somewhat of an oddity to people like Kishibe, your partner, who seems to keep the tobacco industry afloat through his wages alone.
“Nope,” you reply simply. “They taste bad.”
Your replies are clipped and borderline rude but you can’t bring yourself to care - not when he’s dragged you to this place yet again, at this godforsaken hour of the morning, to “look over your case files” even though he never seems to actually care enough to read them.
The place in question is a dingy old café on the outskirts of town, one that Kishibe insists on coming to even though there’s a fancy new artisanal coffee shop just down the road. His loyalty to this dump baffles you.
In theory, you don’t object to meeting up this early - you usually prefer to grab a hot drink at this time anyway, just to keep your hands warm, and Kishibe always needs to take a smoke break, so better to get it out of the way before the day kicks off - but you hate how he never seems to take these meetings seriously. It feels like wasted hours you could have spent sleeping.
Adding to your resentment is the fact that you have to sit outside in the freezing cold just so he can grab a smoke. He doesn’t like walking and smoking at the same time; it distracts him too much, apparently.
You hate it out here. As grim as it is on the inside of the café, the exterior is far worse; grey, miserable concrete floors and walls, no decoration of any sort, and just one solitary table for outdoor dining.
And at that lonely table, there is only one chair - the chair which you’re currently sitting on. Thankfully, Kishibe knew better than to fight you for it since it’s his smoking habit that’s keeping you outside.
He’s leaning against the wall next to you, peering down curiously as you sip your drink with a poorly-concealed grimace.
“You really sure you don’t want one?” he asks again.
“Shut up and smoke the damn cigarette. It’s fucking freezing.”
Kishibe lets out a short huff of amusement, finally fishing a cigarette out of the box and bringing it to his lips. He slips the box back into his shirt pocket and then pulls out his rusty old lighter, soft strands of black hair falling into his eyes as he lights the cigarette. His lips purse around the tightly-rolled tobacco, his cheekbones stained pink from the cold.
You don’t know why your eyes linger on the sight. To distract yourself, you open up a copy of the report sitting on the table in front of you.
Kishibe takes a long drag before exhaling with a pleasured sigh, eyes closed with bliss.
“Doesn’t taste too bad to me.”
“Well, that’s you,” you mutter, scanning over the paper on the table. You’ve just picked it up from the captain of your division - he left it a little late to brief you both, considering the mission starts today - and you want to have at least a passable knowledge of what you’re up against before setting out.
You’ve worked a few jobs with Kishibe since being assigned as his partner and generally, you tolerate him fine. He doesn’t try to ruin your day (you don’t think, anyway). You even share a few laughs every now and then, once you grew to understand his strange and overconfident sense of humour. He’s manageable.
But at times like this, times when you should be focusing on the job that’s been assigned to you instead of just fucking around, smoking cigarettes and taunting each other …
At times like this, he can really get on your nerves.
He’s far from a bad hunter, you know that. His strength and skill have given him quite the reputation even though he’s still in the early stages of his career, and he approaches every fight with the sort of stoic level-headedness you could only aspire to.
He’s good. Too good, almost, and it scares you how he manages it all without even breaking a sweat.
That’s the real reason he gets under your skin so often. It's all too easy for him, and it’s a humbling reminder of your own mortality. He may not need to do this much preparation and research in order to stay alive, but you certainly do. You can’t take any chances.
That, coupled with the fact that you can’t even enjoy your morning cup of coffee indoors anymore …
“You sure it’s just the taste you don’t like?” he pipes up as if on cue, prompting you to give him a withering look over the top of the report. “You’re not scared of them, are ya? Cos we’re not gonna live long enough to worry about the side effects of smoking, if that’s what’s actually bothering you.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t smoke,” you reply, unimpressed. “I’d rather spend what little time I have left doing things that I actually enjoy.” You gesture dismissively at the cigarette dangling between his lips. “And those things taste like shit, so I don’t bother wasting my time or money on them.”
He raises his eyebrows when he takes his next drag, whisps of grey smoke spilling out into the frosty air as he exhales. “I could get offended here, y’know?”
“Why would you be offended?” you say disinterestedly, your eyes lingering on the part of the report that details the previous fatalities of the devil in question.
“Are you saying that I taste like shit, then?”
“Maybe you do,” you say, setting the paper back down in front of you with a yawn. “I don’t care.”
Kishibe’s grinning down at you now. He has that kind of smile that always reaches his eyes, and you’d almost find it charming were it not always associated with him trying to tease you.
You’ve read enough of the report at this point - it sounds awful, but all the death and destruction and suffering starts to blur together after enough time - and so fold the paper in half and slip it into your jacket pocket, trying as best as you can to ignore the grin spreading across Kishibe’s face.
“I don’t taste like shit, y’know,” he elaborates, even though you didn’t ask him to.
“You’re a freak.”
Your comment does nothing to halt his attempt at conversation.
“Well, I have these breath mints, y’know - y’know those ones you can pick up at the counter in drug stores? They’re pretty good, cancels out the taste. So I make sure I don’t taste bad.”
He finishes his sentence by stubbing his cigarette out on the ashtray and opening the little tin of mints that he keeps in the same pocket as his lighter. He pops a mint into his mouth and stays looking smug, so smug you could slap the expression right off his face.
You are in no mood to entertain him any further, so just fire off an agreement in the hope of shutting him up.
“Fine. I’ll take your word for it.”
But you should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, because not a second later he asks, practically beaming …
“Do you wanna find out?”
You get up from your chair abruptly, shoving him with your shoulder as you pass him on the way out of the café. He gasps in feigned indignation and is just about to speak up again before you call out a question of your own.
“Has a line like that ever worked on anyone?”
He laughs, though it ends in a cough. You turn to leave but still hear his answer from over your shoulder.
“Nope.”
______
The job is a tough one, even by the standards of devil hunters.
Kishibe has your back and you have his, but it’s not enough to save the many casualties who you had hoped to keep out of harm’s way. Collateral damage is a given in your line of work, but this … this was a particularly bad day.
You and Kishibe travel home in silence. He doesn’t say anything to draw a reaction out of you, and in turn, you don’t make a comment when he pulls his box of cigarettes from his now blood-stained shirt pocket.
It’s a mutual understanding, and you’re grateful for it.
_____
The next day, once you’ve had the closest thing to a full night’s sleep you could hope for given your line of work, you’re awoken by the sound of Kishibe knocking on your door.
You know the sound all too well. He gives three loud raps against the doorframe, all in quick succession; he might pretend otherwise, but he’s a creature of habit. You don’t even have to look through the peephole to know that it’s him.
“I have a question,” he announces the moment you open the door, without so much as a greeting. “Just a quick one.”
“... go ahead.”
You’ve worked with him for long enough to know that it’s better to let him tell his piece first, and then you can ask for elaboration later. You don’t try to slow him down with a ‘good morning’. It wouldn’t be helpful for either of you.
“A few friends in another division are going out for drinks tonight. Same place as usual. Shitty beer, but it’s cheap and the other division’s buying a few rounds, so they’ll get us drunk as hell. Wanna go?”
“You couldn’t have just called me with this question?” you ask, head still a little groggy. It’s well into the afternoon, but had Kishibe not come for this unexpected visit, you’d likely still be in bed.
“Nope, because then it’d be easier for you to come up with an excuse to blow us off,” he replies quickly - too quickly, almost as if he’d prepared this little speech beforehand. “So if you really don’t wanna go, that’s fine, no complaints here. All I ask is that you don’t say no out of instinct. I think it’d be good, y’know, to get some space? Perspective, and shit like that? You’ll get to see a few people from other divisions, too. I know you’re probably tired of looking at my face every day, handsome as it may be.”
He’s looking at you directly, presenting his case in such a typically Kishibe way; straightforward, reasoned, calm, logical. And still just a little bit annoying.
Part of you is still a little resentful as to how he can bounce back so quickly and appear so unaffected by all of this. He’s still so unperturbed by it all.
But a bigger part of you appreciates that he gives enough of a damn to come out here and check up on you after a particularly difficult mission. You know of plenty of hunters who get stuck with partners who couldn’t care less whether they lived or died, let alone bothered to check on their mental well-being.
For all his faults, he’s a good guy. Irritating at times and a bit too sure of himself, but a good guy nonetheless. He’s trying to cheer you up and, try as you might, you can’t think of a valid reason to turn down his request.
“Fine, I’ll go.”
His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost relieved.
“See you there at around eight o clock, so?” he inquires, though it’s more of a statement than a question.
“Sure thing.”
His smile turns mischievous, a transformation you see far too often.
“Want me to wear something nice? I have a nice red lacy number you might like-”
He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before you close the door in his face.
“See you later!” he calls out, voice muffled on the other side of the door. You hear his footsteps as they traipse down the hallway of your apartment building, and then he’s gone.
This is fine. You can stomach a few short hours of socialising with the other divisions. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it? You know a few of them already and you have Kishibe there to back you up if any of them get too messy. Your partner is a big drinker, but he can hold it well. Better than most people, actually (yet another frustrating thing about him).
As you start to walk back to your kitchen to make the first of many coffees, you start to notice something. It’s subtle, and you can’t quite place what it is until you’ve finished preparing your drink.
You groan out loud once you realise what you've noticed.
Even with the earthy aroma of the freshly-ground coffee beans filling your kitchen, you can still smell Kishibe’s aftershave.
It feels like … like it’s on you, or something. It feels like it’s all over your body.
You’re not complaining about the aftershave itself, obviously. It actually smells pretty nice - you’d never say it to his face, but the man has good taste.
You’re just annoyed because it’s yet another reminder that Kishibe is everywhere.
Whether it’s through these impromptu visits, through his frequent texts and emails, or just in the course of your work, he’s absolutely everywhere. He’s there when you wake up, he’s there while you work, he’s even there whenever you try to get some peace and quiet at the café or in bars after work.
And after last night, he seems to be in your dreams, too, but you won’t dwell on that any further. Not if you have any hope of catching a break from him.
You don't let yourself panic. You reason that dreams are just the mind’s way of processing what it experiences throughout the day. It means nothing. Having a dream involving a colleague, of him taking you in his arms, holding you close, touching you where you need to be touched …
… it’s just a sign that you spend way too much time together.
You clutch your favourite mug in your hands, feeling the heat warm your palms. It’s a standard mug, plain white porcelain with “World’s Best Boss” printed on the side; a gift from your former partner.
You think about what happened to her, and feel a lump form in your throat.
No. Can’t get too close.
___
When you arrive at the bar later that night, you find it to be so packed with hunters that the place is flooded with cigarette smoke. The air is so dense it’s almost a fog, the haze of it obscuring your vision slightly. You can see where you’re going but it’s difficult to make out faces.
You can only hope that you don’t walk up to someone, mistake them for Kishibe, and call them a fucking idiot out of instinct. He’d never let you live it down if he found out.
You cough to clear your throat as you make your way to the booths in search of your partner, trying to dodge the people pushing past with arms full of beer glasses.
It’s not long before you spot him - or rather, hear him.
“Hey!” he shouts to you from over your shoulder, and you spin around to see him standing right behind you. His speech is muffled by the cigarette between his lips, his tie is loose and the top buttons of his shirt are undone, and you see the pale-pink border of scar decorating his chest that would usually be hidden by his jacket. He’s holding a beer in one hand and so places the other on your shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness, guiding you over to the booth on the furthest left-hand side of the room. “You’re an honorary smoker now!”
Any other day you’d slap his hand away, interpreting the gesture as being just typical Kishibe trying to irritate you with overfamiliarity. However, after the mission the two of you just had, you choose to let it slide.
It might be time to start giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Maybe, if you tried, you could even grow to like him.
… but that thought doesn’t seem right. No, not right at all; because you didn’t have to try. Maybe you already do like him, and it happened without you even realising.
You take a sip from the glass of whiskey that someone’s just shoved into your hand and you feel the warmth spread down your throat and through your chest.
God, need to be careful.
The realisation hits you like a brick wall; you absolutely and unequivocally must not get too attached to Kishibe. You can’t. You won’t.
Getting personally involved with someone in your line of work is one of the most reckless things a person can do. If luck is on his side and he isn’t killed or seriously injured at some point in the near future, then you definitely will be the one to die instead. Your chances of passing away from natural causes are slim to none.
There’s no real hope for a nice, happy, white-picket-fence future; you gave that up long ago. To indulge in the new and silly feelings you’re experiencing for the man whose hand is still clasped on your shoulder … it would be foolish.
Your best hope at happiness is to be fond of Kishibe from a distance. To tolerate him as a partner and respect him as a colleague, and leave it at that. No more, no less.
Once you’ve arrived at the booth - his touch still so noticeable on the exposed skin near your neck - he introduces you to three devil hunters. You greet the two men who you recognise as being from another division, along with a woman with an eye patch and striking white hair. From word of mouth, you’d assume this is Quanxi, the famous former partner Kishibe had worked with for a couple of years before being reassigned.
You take a seat next to her while your partner sits across from you next to the two men, and even as you settle into conversation with the rest of the group, it takes a surprising amount of effort to try and ignore that you miss having him within touching distance.
You need a distraction and, thankfully, you grow to like Quanxi very quickly. She’s blunt and straightforward but makes good conversation. She tells you enough embarrassing stories about Kishibe to last you a lifetime and has a similar outlook on life as you do; she’s practical but not emotionless, reserved but still dedicated to her work.
Unfortunately for you, she’s also very observant.
“You don’t drink much?” she asks out of the blue as Kishibe gets up to fetch another round. “Kishibe told me you don’t smoke, but from the look of your glass … you’re still on your first beer, whereas those two,” she adds, pointing dismissively at the other two hunters, “are nearly finished with their fourth.”
“ ... I had a whiskey before I sat down.”
“Even still,” Quanxi counters, holding up her empty whiskey glass for emphasis - she must have finished the bottle by now.
You shrug, unsure as to what your answer would even be. “Tonight’s just an off night for me, I guess.”
“Why?”
“I just have a lot on my mind,” you admit. It’s uncharacteristically candid of you considering you’ve only just met, but Quanxi seems trustworthy. “I’m scared that drinking will make it … a bit harder to deal with.”
Luckily, Quanxi doesn’t seem too eager to push the topic. “Fair enough. As long as it’s not because you think it … tastes bad, or something.”
You see her glance over to Kishibe for a split second, so quick it’s almost not noticeable. She grins, then, and you know for sure that he’s been talking about you.
Kishibe, you swear to yourself. If the devils don’t kill him then you will.
___
A couple of hours pass before you excuse yourself to step outside for some fresh air. It’s not an excuse - you really do need some air, as even the heaviest smokers in the bar have started to complain about how stuffy it’s become. You don’t feel too guilty about needing a break.
The night air is cold but fresh and crisp and so you welcome it, inhaling deeply into your lungs as you round the corner to the quiet alley next to the bar. Once there, you rest your back against the cool stone of the wall. You’re wearing only a skirt and a silk blouse, your jacket hanging up inside the bar, but you don’t shiver.
You look up to the sky to try and see some stars, only to find them shielded by a thick covering of dark clouds.
It could rain at any moment, you think to yourself. You really hope it doesn’t.
“Quanxi scare you off?” a familiar voice calls out from the corner, attracting your attention. “Anything she told you about me is a lie, promise. Unless it’s good, then it’s extremely true.”
You chuckle softly. “No, just needed some air.”
“Same here,” Kishibe says cordially, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. “Too warm in there.”
You watch him approach you with a soft smile and see that his walk is steady. He’s either not drunk at all or he’s very good at hiding it.
Your curiosity gets the better of you and so you point it out.
“Kishibe, you’re not drinking as much as usual.”
He chuckles. He’s reached where you’re standing and decides to follow your lead, resting his back against the wall and tilting his head upwards to see what you were looking at before. The two of you stay there, looking at the blank night sky.
He clears his throat, voice still conversational and relaxed when he starts speaking.
“Between the drinking and the smoking … you’re awful concerned about my health recently, aren’t ya?”
“Just being nosy, I guess,” you say, writing it off as plain old curiosity. You can’t think of any other reason for noticing it.
“But you’re right, I’m taking it easy tonight,” he continues. “Not in the mood.”
“Weren’t you the one who wanted to come here to get shitfaced?”
He shrugs. “No fun getting shitfaced by yourself, though, is it?”
“Ouch,” you chuckle, clutching your chest for dramatic effect. “I know I’m kinda quiet tonight, but-“
“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” he grins with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t know the guys in there all that well, and the ones that I do know are fucking idiots when they’re wasted. Quanxi holds her liquor too well to even get tipsy, and you’re barely drinking, so I’m following your lead.”
Now it’s your turn to feel surprised. You thought you were the more observant of the two of you, but it turns out Kishibe notices the same things.
“I’m a good influence, then.”
Kishibe snorts at that, but somehow the sound is endearing. “Don’t go that far. We’re both still in this shitty job, so you can’t be all that sensible.”
“Oh, I’m not,” you agree, laughing too. “I’m good enough at wasting our pitiful little paycheck.”
“On what?”
He’s still grinning but looks genuinely curious, and huh, you have to stop and think on that one. You don’t really have any major vices (that you can think of), and you’re not a compulsive shopper, but you still manage to spend your money every month.
It’s not worth feeling guilty over, though; you just like surrounding yourself with little pleasures to distract from the grim nature of your work.
You like getting nice furniture for your apartment, and this certain fancy brand of coffee. You like going to a local gallery and being able to buy any painting you want …
… and, as you said earlier, you like things that taste good.
“I spend a lot of money on coffee,” you start. “Too much money. More than you spend on cigarettes, probably.”
“That’s-”
“A lot, I know,” you roll your eyes before continuing. “I also buy paint, canvases, brushes … things like that.”
“You paint?”
“A little. When I get the chance.”
He raises his eyebrows thoughtfully. Seems you’ve genuinely surprised him for once.
You keep going - now that you’ve remembered your little shopping list, it’s hard to stop the thoughts from flowing out.
“And I got this green couch for my apartment. Ridiculously expensive, but I’ve wanted it for ages. I sometimes buy old books, too, and I always get this overpriced lip balm that tastes like apples.”
You pause then, to show you’re finished recalling your expenses. You have to laugh at the bemused expression on Kishibe’s face.
“That it?” he asks, but he sounds suitably impressed. Like you’ve finally opened up to him in a way he can appreciate.
“That’s it, I think.”
He’s so close to you now that you’re practically shoulder-to-shoulder. You’re both just resting against the wall having a friendly chat, but the closeness feels … it feels both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. You’re used to having him always there, but never within touching distance. Never so casual and easy and enjoyable.
He clears his throat.
“So all that … that’s what you’re wasting all your money on? I’ll remember that next time I foot the bill for lunch.”
”I forgot my wallet one time,” you answer, shoving his shoulder with yours, “one time ever. Surely you’ve financially recovered by now.”
You’re not sure what possesses you, but as you’re still standing side-by-side, you lean your head down to rest it against his shoulder. It feels natural, like something you don't even have to think about. Kishibe was close, he was right there, and you wanted him closer.
His voice doesn’t betray any surprise at your actions, but the way the muscles in his arm tense as you nestle against him shows that he wasn’t expecting it.
But the fact that he doesn’t give you any shit for it or shrug you off means that he doesn’t object.
“I guess we can go to yours for coffee from now on,” he points out. “Since you’re apparently a coffee snob, and I’m clearly torturing you with the shit excuse for a beverage they serve at the café.”
“True,” you agree, “though maybe we can try to have a cup indoors for once. Just for the novelty of it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’d like to see if it tastes any better when I’m not freezing my ass off while you have a smoke.”
“We could go now, if you want?” he asks then, and you feel everything slow down around you.
You’re grateful to be resting against his shoulder because it means he misses your perplexed expression, your eyes widening as he finishes his question.
What does he mean by ‘go now’? Go where? The café closes just after lunch. You never go there unless you’re on a case. It’s the middle of the night, there are no other cafes even open nearby …
As if reading your mind, he elaborates.
“No, not go to the café,” he says, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. It’s deep now, almost gravelly, instead of that usual ‘so smug it’s almost chirpy’ tone he utilises when he’s trying to annoy you on missions. His voice sounds nice - so nice that an inconvenient tingle spreads in your chest as you hear it. “I meant we could go back to yours. For some of that ridiculously expensive coffee, I mean.”
Is he trying to mess with you? It almost feels like a game, like he’s trying to trick you into saying something that will only make life more inconvenient for the both of you.
“You want coffee at midnight?” you ask, slowly.
“Sure do,” he answers without hesitation. “If you’ll be so kind as to host.”
You draw your head back and look at him quizzically. You know exactly how he acts when he’s messing with you and this isn’t it. He’s not smirking when he speaks; instead, he’s looking at you with an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. It throws you off in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant, and so you say,
“Sure, let’s head back to mine.”
___
You grab your jacket from inside the bar as Kishibe hails a cab, and before you know it, the two of you are standing at your doorstep, just as you were earlier today when he invited you out. You feel different now, though; adrenaline coursing through your veins for no discernable reason.
This all feels surreal. You and Kishibe here, alone, after hours, without the convenience of a mission to keep you distracted. And yet, you don’t dwell on it.
You’re moving as if possessed, desperately avoiding any overthinking of your actions as you take him by the hand and guide him through the door to your hallway, through to the kitchen then. Neither of you says anything as you walk. You only let go of his hand when you arrive at the countertop where you keep the coffee, resting a hand against the surface to ground yourself.
The kitchen is dark since you didn't bother the turn on the lights. Only the glow of the streetlamps illuminates the room, casting a glow over the two of you.
You blink up at him. He stays looking at you pensively.
You’re still not sure how literally he was speaking when he mentioned wanting coffee. Would he laugh at you if you started to brew some? You want to touch him again, want to feel him ever closer than he was before, but … have you misinterpreted the situation entirely?
Kishibe clears things up for you. He steps in your direction, shoulders set and expression difficult to place. He’s not touching you yet but he’s so gotten so close now … closer than colleagues or partners or even friends tend to go, only inches away from your body.
He’s so close you can feel whisps of his hair tickling your forehead, you can see the crinkles in his shirt and the outline of the lighter in his jacket pocket.
He stop then, hesitating, eyes scanning your face.
“You okay?” he asks, smiling at you - a kind smile, not brass or cocky.
You nod, the movement shallow and jerky and perhaps a bit too quick.
“Yeah, just … my head’s all over the place.”
“Nothing has to happen,” he replies quietly. “We can just have coffee, if you’d prefer.”
“So you really want coffee?” you ask, eyebrow raised. “We’re sticking with that story?”
“Doesn’t have to be coffee,” he counters. “Tea, water, I don’t care. I just … I like spending time with you.”
You return his smile just as genuinely. “You’re being so … nice.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, I am,” you say emphatically. “Did I accidentally bring someone else’s partner home?”
He laughs, a nice sound, and your heart hammers against your ribcage.
“Nope. Stuck with me, I’m afraid.”
His answer is conversational and friendly, but the look in his eyes betrays him. You know he means it.
You know it’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense, because he’s your partner, and you’re supposed to be objective, and it goes against every rational thought in your brain.
But the idea of being stuck with him sounds so appealing ... you can’t pay much attention to your rational side.
It’s not Kishibe who closes the distance between the two of you; instead, you step closer, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt, and then press your lips to his.
It’s not a slow kiss. It starts intense and it only builds from there, teeth almost clacking together as you tangle your hands in his hair. It’s clumsy, almost; he’s pawing your thighs, lower back, waist, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch first. You take a gentle grip on his hair, marvelling at how soft it feels in your hands, the silky tresses just so tuggable.
You’ll park that thought for later.
Kishibe deepens the kiss, running his tongue against your lips and then pushing into your mouth, not letting go of your body the whole time.
It’s funny; a part of you thought that he would be as confident and dominant in these circumstances as he is in his professional life -
(Yes, you’ve thought about it before … it’s not as though the thought of sleeping with him has never crossed your mind. You’re stubborn, but not blind.)
- but he’s taking as much as he’s giving, getting as much satisfaction from your reaction as he does from anything else. He moves with you, noting what you like as the moments pass, gauging your reaction from your whimpers and moans and the way you’re not-so-subtly rubbing against his thigh.
He kisses your neck, lingering on your pulse point, leaving a mark that you’re sure will be visible tomorrow. The thought is strangely thrilling; the idea of you and Kishibe working a case together, with marks all over your skin just begging to be noticed. Marks that show he wanted you all to himself and needed everyone to know it.
When you push your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his suit pants pressing against you, you tighten your grip on his hair. He notices and responds eagerly, grabbing your ass over the thin fabric of your skirt and pressing you flush against him. The heat of his body makes your mind go numb.
You can smell his aftershave again, all over your body as he kisses and rubs and touches, but you have no complaints this time.
He leans in as if to kiss you again but stops just short, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.
“You have no idea how badly I want this,” he murmurs. “How badly I’ve wanted it. But … it might make things just a little bit complicated.”
“I’m okay with it if you are,” you whisper, looking into his eyes to show your confidence in your answer. You’re too far gone to back out now. You haven’t felt touch like this in so long, having kept yourself so guarded and withdrawn for years. Kishibe understands; he knows the risks of this job, and he knows how lonely it gets. He knows you so well. Knows what you need.
“I’m okay with it,” he says, lips quirked upwards. He’s still pressed against you, his thigh spreading your legs open slightly. “Want me to show you how much?”
His eyes flicker down your body past your chest, and you know exactly what he’s thinking about doing. Every inch of your skin feels hot. Your clit pulses at the very idea of what he’s suggesting - it seems like his confidence might pay off.
“I want you,” you reply. You think about finishing the sentence with something a bit more articulate, but Kishibe’s eyes darken at your earnest response, pupils blown out and expression ravenous.
He places a large hand on your thigh, the exposed skin tingling under his touch. He slides it up slowly, so slowly, grazing up to the seam of your underwear. He runs a finger over your clothed core and you gasp, hips almost bucking into his touch. His thumb circles your clit then returns to stroking the damp fabric between your legs, so impossibly close to where you need him.
He’s so close to it. So close - if he just angled his fingers a little more, he could plunge two inside you, wringing orgasm after orgasm from you as you melt underneath him.
“Please-“ you choke, the pleasure almost becoming an ache. “I … I need-“
“What do you need, baby?” he whispers into the shell of your ear, teeth giving a gentle tug on your lobe when he finishes his question. “What do you need from me?”
“More, please. More.“
He doesn’t ask you to elaborate any further. Instead, he guides you to the countertop, pressing you against it at first, unable to keep from connecting his mouth to some part of you for too long (this time, it’s the swell of your breasts over the neckline of your blouse).
Once he pulls back, lips leaving your cleavage with a wet ‘pop’, he helps you up onto the countertop. Once you’re sitting comfortably on the edge, he slides his hands up your thighs again. You feel the cool marble on the underside of your legs, pleasantly contrasting the heat of his hands.
He tugs at the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips to allow him to pull them down, feeling the cold air against your exposed skin as he does so. You’re so wet and he notices immediately. His tongue swipes over his lower lip, a pink flush having settled across his cheekbones.
He’s annoyingly pretty like this, looking up at you from between your legs.
You want to make him feel good with your mouth too. The thought of it makes your head swim; between the tenting in his pants and the look on his face …
He cuts off your thoughts with a brush of his lips over your inner thigh. He kisses you again, leaving no inch of skin untouched as he gets closer and closer to your core.
When he reaches the divot at the very top of your thighs, he loses his control just a bit, pressing wet and sloppy kisses, the obscene sound of which would make you embarrassed in any other circumstances.
You let out a desperate, uncharacteristic mewl, but you don’t feel any embarrassment. This side of Kishibe - whose only aim is to make you come undone - you know that he won’t make fun of you. The only reaction he’s trying to get from you now is one of pure and mindless pleasure.
You gasp out loud as you finally get the contact you have been seeking; Kishibe presses a gentle closed-mouth kiss to your clit that makes your entire body shudder. With barely any contact he already has you quivering, goosebumps forming all over. The press of his mouth against your pussy is careful, explorative; lips and tongue tracing all over your slick flesh.
The first proper lick stokes a fire in your core, burning hot and desperate as you tighten your thighs around his face. His hands grip your legs and pull them apart further, allowing better access for what he wants to do.
Long, slow strokes up your folds and circles around your clit, all combining to make you feel pliant and boneless.
“Please … please … please …” you beg over and over, though you don’t want him to change anything, you just don’t want him to stop. You feel like crying at the thought of it being taken away for even a second, for him to stop the perfect movement of his tongue against your aching cunt. “Please keep going.”
He hums his approval and moves to start suckling your clit with just enough pressure to make your vision go white behind your now-shut eyes. You feel the slightest pressure against your entrance as he presses a finger hesitantly - you throw your head back with a desperate cry of “yes!”, and he pushes it in in one fluid motion.
You feel a bit conflicted about closing your eyes because the image in front of you is so enticing; a few strands of his dark hair are stuck to his forehead with the faint sheen of sweat that’s building as he fucks you with his fingers, his eyes looking up at you beseechingly through dark lashes with a particularly firm flick of his tongue …
You want to keep looking at him, you do, but you can’t. It’s too much. The sensation is building quicker than you can react to it, and so you lay back on the counter, your back arching as he keeps up his perfect pace.
The pleasure is low and warm and unending, deep inside you, and for a brief moment, it scares you that Kishibe is the one doing this to you.
Kishibe, your annoying coworker who you’re supposed to be keeping at arm’s length - he's the one making you scream and cry out his name as if it’s the only word you can remember.
Kishibe is the one who’s making your eyes roll back into your head, the one who’s taking you apart with just his mouth and fingers (now, two of them).
You’re surrendering yourself to him, and yet, you don’t have the slightest urge to halt any of it.
Heat starts collecting in your core, a ball of warm pleasure starting to grow and grow until you couldn’t contain it even if you wanted to. He can feel you tighten around his fingers and speeds up without altering the pressure, just giving you more of what you need. Your incoherent babbling only spurs him on.
When you tip over the edge and quiver desperately underneath him, coming apart entirely, it takes you by surprise; there was no build-up because it was all too overwhelming, too blinding, to be able to determine at what point exactly your pleasure started to crest.
It just takes over.
When you come down from it, you decide to take just a minute to collect yourself as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You close your eyes again, blinking back the tears that collected against your waterline.
It’s a little strange. You haven’t had a sexual experience like that since … well, ever.
Thinking about things rationally, you come up with a few reasons for your very enthusiastic response. First and foremost, you haven’t had sex in a long time, not since joining the agency, not since dating became too messy. You’ve been a bit stressed, too, a bit pent up. You needed some relief. You haven’t had any … alone time in a while, either.
But as you noted earlier, you’re not listening to the rational part of your brain tonight. Not one of those reasons explains the effect Kishibe just had on you.
And the most confusing part is that even after making you come harder than you have in years, you want him even more intensely now.
Sitting up on the counter, you drag him in for another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. You run your hands up his chest, fingers grazing off the tell-tale outline of the cigarette box in his pocket. You move to rest your hands against his nape, feeling the prickliness of his undercut against your fingertips.
His pants are still on but you can feel he’s painfully hard, straining against his zipper as he clings to you.
He starts unbuttoning your shirt and you do the same to his, taking in the view of his sharply-cut torso as he sheds his clothes.
It’s all lean muscle, thin white-lined scars covering his chest, a few freckles here and there. A painful-looking blue-black bruise sits above his hip and you frown upon noticing it. He pries your hand away from his shirt buttons, bringing your index finger to his lips and kissing it softly.
“I’m fine,” he reassures you. “Don’t worry about it.”
You want to press further but relent at the last moment, going back to finish your task of unbuttoning his shirt. You can be concerned later; now, he needs you as much as you need him.
“Where do you want to -?” he asks, trailing off at the end.
You widen your eyes suggestively, glancing down at the countertop beneath you.
He scoffs. “... here?”
You shrug, smirking coyly. “Why not? Curtains are shut. And even if they weren't, it's not like we haven't disgraced ourselves enough already.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he says with a grin, eyes flicking down to catch a glimpse of your chest.
You hop down from the counter and kiss him again, hastily unzipping his pants and taking him out of his underwear. Thick and heavy in your hand - the overconfidence comes from somewhere, obviously - you feel him throb against your touch.
A few gentle strokes and he’s groaning, eyes shut and head tilted back, beads of precum gathering at the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight; Kishibe, having just opened his eyes, snaps when he sees the effect this is having on you. He spins you around and bends you over the counter, tugging your skirt up above your hips. You’re standing here so exposed - no shirt, no underwear, only the thin fabric of your skirt shielding your naked form - but you trust him now, just as much as you do when your life is in his hands.
He drags the tip of his cock against your pussy and you gasp.
You’re not sure how, but you feel empty without him inside, even though you haven’t even felt it yet.
You spread your legs for him, wet and stretched enough to take whatever he has to give you.
As the head of his cock pushes inside you, Kishibe is the one to moan then, deep and low.
“Oh baby,” he breathes. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel so good already, my love. You’re squeezing right around me, fuck,” he stills against you, hands on your hips preventing you from sliding back against him. “I … I need a second.”
“Done already?” you tease, looking back at him over your shoulder, your shaking legs barely supporting you. You grip the countertop more firmly to steady yourself. “Surely not?”
“Can you wait a few minutes to give me shit?” he retorts, and you feel his smile as he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Usually I’d say you’d have every right, but I don’t think you want to get into that right now.” He pushes in further then, inch by inch. “Or do you?”
“You’re right,” you laugh airily, “you’re right, just … keep doing that, please.”
He slides in further, almost to the hilt now. He grips your hips with both hands as he seats himself fully inside you.
You knew it would be a stretch, but this - the feeling of being so impossibly and blissfully full - takes you by surprise nonetheless. He stays there for just another moment as you adjust to him and you feel his thumb stroke slow, soothing circles along your lower back as you inhale slow and deep.
You push back against him when you’re ready for him to start moving, and he doesn’t hesitate. Pulling his hips back, he thrusts back inside you with a groan, the slap of skin against skin echoing around the kitchen. He sets a strong, steady pace; hips snapping against yours as you rest your forehead on the counter, chest bouncing as he fucks into you as though he’s thought about doing this for years.
Kishibe reaches over and grabs your hands from the counter, crossing them behind your back and holding them in place with his own. This position means you arch further, allowing him to thrust deeper inside you, reaching spots you never thought anyone could hit.
His grip on your wrists is tight but it never hurts; he’s handling you with such care, far more thoughtfully than you would have expected. That being said, he’s not treating you like you’re fragile or breakable - you wouldn’t like it if he did - rather, he’s touching you like your enjoyment is by far the most important aspect of this. He’s treating you like a partner.
You turn your head so your cheek is resting on the surface. You just want to angle yourself so you can look back and see him. You need to see him, you need to know if he’s as fucked out as you are, reduced to utter desperation, unable to focus on anything other than the fact that you’re so tight and drenched and messy around him.
When you see him, your breath hitches. Your guess wasn’t too far off.
Kishibe’s flushed now, pink tinting his face and neck, and his chest rises with short, shallow, primal pants. He’s biting down hard on his lower lip, so much so you think it might bleed, and he’s looking right at you, meeting your gaze head-on. His brows are knit tightly together, jaw pulled tight as he keeps his focus on you. He looks to be as close as you are.
When neither of you look away, unable to tear your eyes off eachother, he speeds up his thrusts. He’s chasing his end now; his pace is frenetic, and he lets out a throaty groan when his cock slips out at one point, the speed of his movements and the wetness between your legs making everything a messy, perfect blur.
“You’re so beautiful, I can’t fucking stand it,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a disbelieving chuckle, “I should have said it sooner. Fuck, you’re so, so beautiful, it drives me insane.”
He lets go of one of your hands, keeping the other pinned behind your back, and you quickly bring it between your legs and trace circles around your clit with your fingers. You’re so wet - both from his mouth and from the way he’s fucking into you now - that you can hear your fingers moving, which means Kishibe can too.
He leans down and moves his free hand to join yours, collecting some of the wetness between your legs and rubbing your clit in tandem with your movements. You shift your position to allow him to touch you as he wants to, the weight of him against your back and the warmth of his breaths hitting your damp skin wringing a carnal moan from you.
“So pretty for me, aren’t you?” he says, almost reverent. “So pretty like this. I could do this for hours - could hear you make those noises for the rest of my life, fuck, you’re doing so, so well, my love.”
You feel it build so quickly that you gasp his name in surprise, the word almost sounding like a question. He understands, keeping the pace of both his thrusts and the circling of his fingers consistent.
It washes over you like a tidal wave; pulses of explosive pleasure rippling through your muscles, making your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your chest, only a shaky, weak-sounding moan escaping your lips - you can’t even think of any words right now, let alone speak them.
You feel his cock pulse inside you, his hand releasing the arm that’s still behind your back as he grips your hips instead, grinding into you as deeply as he can. A few more shallow thrusts follow, aftershocks making your cunt flutter around him, and then he stills again, the sound of both your heavy breathing filling the room.
He doesn’t pull out right away. He straightens you up a little, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck and rubbing up and down your arm. It feels nice; you feel so serenely calm at that point, you could almost fall asleep resting against him.
He straightens up fully once both of your heart-rates return to normal and the sweat on your skin starts to cool, and then he pulls out, grabbing a tissue from the counter to clean for you.
You fumble with your skirt to pull it further down your thighs - not to hide anything from him, but to provide the tiniest bit of warmth now that Kishibe’s body heat is no longer distracting from the cold.
He picks up his jacket from the floor and walks behind you to rest it on your shoulders. You smile gratefully, letting silence settle between you. He stays there, wrapping an arm around you from behind.
“Do you want me to head away?” he asks, and you can tell from his tone that he wouldn’t be upset if you did.
You shake your head.
You don’t want him to go yet. Not just yet, not when you’re still processing all that’s just happened.
“I know it could get complicated,” you begin, trying to reason with him and yourself. “But ... no. I don't want you to go. I ... you can stay over. If that's something you'd like to do.”
“I would."
You let out a short chuckle, half-relief and half-bemusement. “Then I think we shouldn’t talk about complications anymore. For a while, anyway."
“I agree completely,” he mumbles against the crook of your neck.
“First time for everything.”
“You wound me,” he whispers, feigning offence but kissing your hairline anyway. “So does this mean I get a tour of your apartment now?”
Taking the hand that’s wrapped out you, you tug him in the direction of your bedroom. He makes a few characteristic comments on your furniture choices and you elbow him without any malice, pointing out some of your favourite pieces as you make your way through your apartment.
It feels strangely normal; you crossed this boundary together, but the world hasn’t fallen down around you.
He’s still the same, you’re still the same … mostly.
You know there’ll be a conversation tomorrow. It can’t go unaddressed considering you spend your working day together, but there’s no use spoiling the serene temporary escape the two of you have carved out for yourselves.
You reach your bedroom and he follows you into bed wordlessly, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. You interlock his fingers with yours.
Nestled in the sheets with him, you fall asleep more quickly that you have done in recent memory.
After your entire adult life spent on death’s door, you allow yourself to feel an emotion you barely even recognise anymore.
I'm kinda freaking out. Like, full-blown panic. It's almost time to pick up Namor, I spent the day stress-cleaning the apartment and shopping for snacks and ingredients for dinner; I'm making stir fry with sauteed shrimp on the side (in case he doesn't eat meat 😬). I don't know why I'm so nervous about him being here, I feel like this is kinda a big deal. I haven't been able to eat because of my nerves and Peter talked me down from canceling several times and practically forced fed me meal replacement shakes so I wouldn't fall over.
Thank god for Peter, by the way, he said he'd make himself scarce for the night and patrol the city; Fridays are busy for Spiderman. Honestly, he's been busy almost every night, I high-key think he may be seeing someone; that 'Black Cat' girl maybe? He hasn't said anything to me since telling me about her and I swear the other night he smelled like women's perfume.
I suppose he'll tell me when he's ready
I'm wearing a pair of stone-washed jeans and a navy green crop top layered with a beige extremely cropped long-sleeve turtle neck. I was going to pair it with heels but decided to throw on my white sneakers since we were just staying home. My braids are starting to look a little raggedy so I throw a bandana on to cover my loose roots. Top it off with a pair of gold hoop earrings and I'm done. I look at myself in the mirror satisfied; with my scar, I don't usually like my belly exposed but today I look good.
I put on my sling ring, and do a once over the apartment, everything looks good. Checking my phone and see it was only 7:45 pm so I decided to play on my phone and smoke a joint to help with my nerves. Opening and sitting by the window I see I have 3 more unread texts from Bucky
Fuck I never replied to him
3:22 am
I saw you read my message...
3:36 am
I just want to apologize. I've been terrible to you.
5:02 am
I coming to see you
Is he serious right now??
I begin to text him back,
7:50 pm
Bucky, stop. I have company coming over, and you will embarrass yourself, Just stay home and we can talk about this tomorrow. Have a good night.
Almost 5 minutes later he responds with 2 thumbs up.
"Girl he is something else," I say to myself while turning my phone to silent. Closing the window, I quickly go brush my teeth, then eventually open a portal inside Namors Temple. Leaving the portal open behind me, I step through and see Namor painting something new on his wall. He was wearing signature green shorts and white robes; I don't think he's noticed me here just yet.
"Táan wáaj a ts'o'oksik, in Ajaw? 'Are you ready my king?' I ask him
He turns a bit startled and smiles at me, "Where did you learn to speak my language like that? I've heard you speak it before but now you sound as if it's your native tongue."
"Yaanten in secretos. 'I have my secrets' " I laugh, "Uts ti' a wich? 'Do you like it "
"Ma'atech a cha'ik u sorprender in. 'You never cease to amaze me " he replies
I giggle and look away, "Stop it"
He's got me blushing like a high school girl.
Namor puts his brush down and has a seat at his table, "Come closer Ki'ichpan" he says raising out his hands to me
I walk up to him and place my hands in his, "You look beautiful today" he says smiling up at me
"Thank you" I smile
He then takes his hands placing them on my hips pulling me closer between his legs and places a kiss on my bare stomach and looks up at me, "I've missed you"
"I've missed you too," I say playing with his hair, "Come on" I start to pull him out of his seat, "let's go so I can cook you some dinner."
----------------------
I gave Namor a tour of the place, it's not huge; your basic 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, and a kitchen right off the living room. He was sitting at the kitchen island, watching me prepare our bowl with the stir fry, "I made some shrimp on the side if you'd like some. I wasn't sure if you ate meat."
"Absolutely" he smiles
I finish by adding a handful of shrimp to our bowls and hand him his while I sit across from him, "I hope you like it" I say, watching him try his first bite.
"I Like it," He says with a soft chuckle, "This is good, thank you"
"You're welcome" I reply.
He is giving me the warm fuzzies
We eat our dinner mostly in silence, the food was pretty good, I hadn't eaten all day and he So thoroughly enjoyed the taste. Now we find ourselves on the couch sharing a bowl of ice cream. I've easily convinced him out of his robes and am sitting in his lap, feeding us back and forth.
"I don't think I have had this much fun in a while. You're good company" I laugh
"I can say the same about you Ki'ichpan. Keep feeding me like this and I'd give you anything"
"Anything?" I ask
Oh this should be fun
I scoop the last bit of the ice cream and hold it to his mouth, "Here last bite." Namor opens his mouth and I 'Accidentally' drop the ice cream on his chest, "Oh shoot, let me get that for you" I say dipping down and licking it off his chest, "Better?" I ask
"You're playing a dangerous game Ki'ichpan. I didn't plan on taking you this early in the night." Namor warns
I spread my legs a little further on his lap and lightly grind on his dick teasing him, "What's stopping you hm?"
Namor pulls me into a fiery kiss quite literally taking my breath away. He breaks away only to kiss and bite my neck causing me to moan.
"Keep that up and you won't last the rest of the night."
Before I could reply we were interrupted by a knock at the door, "Ignore It" I say continuing our kiss.
The knocking gets a little louder, "Sounds important. Go, I can wait for you"
I nod my head and get off his lap and head to the door. I look through the peephole and see that it's Bucky.
The Vibe:
Celeste - Strange (Lyrics) | I am still me you are still you
"What the fuck" I say exasperated
"What's got you upset?" Namor says walking to me and taking my hand
"It's Bucky." I say embarrassed, "He's been messaging me since last night. He said he was coming to see me, but I didn't think he'd follow through. I also explicitly said to stay home."
Namor's eyes darken a little, "Let me take care of it."
"No, no. I can take care of it, just please wait here." I crack open the door so bucky can only see me, "Bucky what the hell?"
"I just want to talk, can I come in?" He says beginning to walk forward
Holding my hand out I make contact with his chest and firmly stop him from entering, "No Bucky, I'm serious go home. I don't want you here."
"Fine I'll say what I have to say here then," he says
I feel the door being ripped from my hand, it was Namor, he was now standing over me with one hand on the door and the other holding the frame. "Why don't you leave as she said."
Bucky clenches his jaw looking at Namor and then at me, "Really Millie?"
"Really what James? I don't owe you anything. And both of you knock it off with the alpha male behavior Okay?" I snip, "You want to talk?" I say pointing at Bucky, "Fine, 5 min, and then take the hint and go the hell home." I push him into the hallway and turn around to Namor, "Please stay here, I'll take care of it."
He looks at me, then at Bucky, and back at me, "I don't trust him." He says pretty loudly.
"Hey man, why don't you go back inside and mind your damn business." Bucky scoffs
"Will you just be quiet, please?" I yell to Bucky. Looking at Namor, "You don't have to trust him. Trust ME when I say I'll be fine." He looks at me and nods, walking away and closing the door behind him.
He's very upset
I let out a sigh of frustration and turn to look at Bucky, "Dude what's the matter with you? You're giving me whiplash. You break up with me because what? You think I could do better, but when I start to move on you want me? I don't understand you."
He brushes his hand through his hair, "I still love you."
"Well I'm sorry but it will pass," I say half hysterical
"Do you not love me anymore?" He asks
"What does it matter? Bucky YOU left me." I Yell
"It matters!" He yells back
"WHY?"
Before I knew it he was kissing me; I wanted to stop him and fight back but my body betrayed me. The kiss was desperate and full of desire. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck as he held me tight in his arms pushing me back into my door making a loud thud. The noise brought me back down to Earth,
What am I doing?
"Stop" he continues to kiss me, "STOP" I push him off trying to catch my breath.
Finally, he begins to answer my questions, "It matters because if you still love me, then we have a chance. If you don't I will stop and move on" he begins to walk away, "Call me later when you're ready to talk"
Fuck...
I catch my breath and gather my barrings before I open the door and come back inside. Namor was standing there by the door waiting for me. His face and body language were unreadable, I don't know where his head is at. His energy is a bit alarming I can't tell if he wants to yell at me or jump my bones, or both.
Uncomfortable with the vibe, I take a step back putting my hands in my back pockets, "Hey..." I say "Did you hear-" I try to continue
"Everything," he says softly. He was looking me in my eyes like he was reading my mind searching for something. Finally, he speaks up, "Do you love him?"
I feel myself about to cry, twice tonight my body fails. I look down so he can't see my eyes filling with tears, "I don't want to..." I say softly.
Walking towards me, he gently lifts my head, pulling me into his gaze, "It's okay." he softly says pulling me into a hug. I was fully expecting him to yell and be angry with me but he surprised me with his compassion. "Love is a library of confusion. It's complicated, I can understand that."
"I'm sorry," I say embracing him back.
"Nothing to be sorry for. Millaenyia," He calls to me. I look up, " In case I haven't made it abundantly clear already, my heart burns for you. I want you to be mine, and I to be yours. You may not love me now, that's fine because I can wait until you do; whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same" he kisses me. Unlike my kiss with bucky, this one was calming and gentle, he let me lead. Just before I can lose myself in this kiss he pulls away, "I can smell him on you."
"I'm sorry... I don't know what to say"
What can I say in this scenario? How can you remedy an impossible situation like this? He thinks our souls are one of the same. I can't deny at this point that I still love Bucky, but with that being said I'm developing feelings for Namor. Fast and Hard. What do I do? Everything is complicated right now.
"Millaenyia?"
"Hmm?" I say focusing back in on Namor
"Where did you go just now?"
"In my head"
"What are you thinking about?"
"That I am confused." I half chuckle and half cry, "I don't know I guess I'm overwhelmed." I place my hand on his face, "I appreciate your words, you've been extremely accommodating of my feelings. I just need a little time to think and gather my thoughts before I respond to your beautiful words. I don't like jumping into things half cocked and if I'm going to be with you, I want to BE with you. Does that make sense?"
"I understand, take your time" he nods, "In the meantime, while I'm here with you, can we forget about everything and just enjoy each other's company?" He smiles
The Vibe:
Doja Cat - Freak (Audio)
Smiling back at him, "What did you have in mind?"
"I was hoping I could get that smell off of you and replace it with something more," he looks me up and down, undressing me with his eyes, "pleasant"
"I could go for something pleasant" I smile grabbing the top of his shorts and pulling him closer to me, "Ba'axten ma' ka pitik a ka pitik hmm? 'Why don't you take these off hmm?' "
"Teeche' yáax 'you first' " he challenges me
I have been waiting for this moment hehe
Tonight I decided to spice it up a bit and wear a white crochet lace garter lingerie set. I take my time peeling off my top layers one by one, slowly revealing my snug bralette. Namor couldn't help himself and reached his hand out to touch me but before he could, I smacked him, "Le taj muk'óolal jach amarga, ba'ale' u yich ch'ujuk 'Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet" I wink at him and begin to unzip my pants and drop them. Stepping out of them I stand dangerously close to him and whisper in his ear, "U a Cha' paax in ajawo 'You're permitted to touch my king' "
He abruptly picks me up which startles me, causing us both to laugh; he leads me to my bedroom closing the door behind him. Namor puts me down on the bed and steps back to take his shorts off exposing his erection. Unable to help myself I slide off the bed falling to my knees in front of him. Being face-to-face with his dick is quite a daunting experience, he's the biggest I've been with so I'm a little intimidated. When I look up though, I see Namor watching me, waiting in anticipation; just the thought of him at my mercy immediately washed away any anxiety that I had.
With a sudden rush of confidence, I take his cock in my hand and begin to slowly stroke him and eventually take him in my mouth. I started slow, taking him further and further with each bop of my head sneaking occasional looks up at him, watching his reactions.
I can tell he's holding back like he needs more, so I snaked my hand up his leg, lingering a bit on his ass, and eventually grabbing his hand and placing it on the back of my head, silently permitting him to let loose. He takes the hint and begins to take control, slowly face fucking me, going deep and deeper with each thrust.
"Fuck you're so beautiful like this," he says now grabbing my head with both hands fully losing control, grunting and moaning with every other thrust. Namor was hitting the back of my throat now causing me to gag a bit, and making me tear up. I'd never fucked like this before, it was intense, and the heartbeat in my pussy grew more feverish as Namor came closer to his climax. I look up at him making eye contact as I take my free hand and begin to touch myself, wanting to feel just as good as he does.
Watching me do this lewd act was all he needed to reach his climax; he began to pull out not sure if he should finish in my mouth but I held him in place. Namor gratefully takes the opportunity and begins to grunt through his teeth and say words that I couldn't understand, losing himself entirely as I take every last drop of him down my throat.
After collecting his breath he slowly pulls out of my mouth and wipes away some of his cum from my lips, "You mystify me," He says helping me up and kissing me.
Slowly he starts to walk me back to the bed and gently lays me down kissing me as he works his way down to my panties.
"My turn to take care of you Ki'ichpan." He says as he hooks my panties; pulling them down.
dededos
dailybridgerton
baratheonpilled
kianamaiart
