Expedition 33

“You’re always so calm about everything…” You tell Yuna as you both take a walk at night, not far from the group’s camp.

“Was that supposed to be a question?” She asked back in which you were quick to reply: “No, an observation…”

“Ryujin’s intense and obsessed, Eunchae is nervous and eager. But you, you’re calm…” You added, kicking a pebble off the path.

“Is that strange?” She asked, in which you simply scoffed.

“I guess Death and I have walked a long road together…” She added, her response surprising in a way that made you look at her.

“I guess that’s one way of saying it… But I’ll admit… That makes two of us…” You uttered with a soft chuckle, watching your breath fog up in the cold night air.

She looks down at you from the side, her dark eyes catching the faint moonlight—sharp, curious.

“Death is a friend who will welcome me home…”

“‘Friend’ is not a word I’d use…” You uttered back, glancing down at your hands—the same ones that had snapped necks and throttled beasts for a hundred years—still unshaken.

“Hm. Life’s easier when you think of Death as a friend…”

“Oh, really? Or are you just dressing it up to manage your fear?” You responded, tilting your head slightly to study her face—the way her lips parted, the faintest tremor in her breath before she steadied it.

“Does it really matter? How you view things in life is up to you. Life goes on anyway.” She shrugged, but there was weight in her words—the kind that settled between your ribs like a blade.

“That’s… Quite the philosophy for someone so young…” You couldn’t help but admit.

“That’s right. I’m not as old as you. Why don’t you share with me some wisdom you’ve got over your very long life?” The girl grinned, the distance between you and her already close before you even knew it.

“I can’t say for sure how *wise* I am depending on how you define it…” You stated.

“But yes, I do have a lot of wisdom that came from a hundred year’s worth of mistakes…” You added, tracing the jagged scar running down your forearm—a souvenir from an expedition where the ice didn’t just bite, it swallowed men whole.

“Oh? So you must have many pearls to offer?” She inquired, in which you were quick to tell her: “No, none sadly.”

“All I can offer is another story…” You added, your own form of *defense* when you started to see how dangerously close you were.

“Hmph! I’m not really in the mood for stories tonight…” She stated, her fingers brushing against yours—light, deliberate.

The contact sent a jolt through you, like touching a live wire in the dark. You could smell the faint scent of pine resin clinging to her skin, mixed with something warmer, sharper.

“Oh-Ohhh… And here I thought I was about to share something truly dark and heartbreaking…” You replied, fighting to keep the facade of detachment intact—but her fingers were already curled around yours, trapping you in the heat of her grip.

“Save that for tomorrow. Let’s do something else tonight…”

“Wh-What do you have in mind?” You quickly replied when you noticed how close her fingers were to yours—feigning ignorance despite the heat rising in your veins. Her smirk told you she wasn’t buying it.

“That depends. How adventurous are you feeling?” She tilted her head, lips quirking into a smirk that made your pulse skip—like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. You swallowed, pretending not to notice the way her thumb traced idle circles over your knuckles.

“You mean like hunting Nevrons?” you lied, voice dry as dust.

“Ugh…”

“What?” You blinked, feigning innocence.

“Don’t make me wait for you to connect the dots…” She stepped closer, her breath warm against your lips—pine resin and something dangerous.

“Oh-Ohhh… You mean 'adventure…’” You replied, in which the girl was starting to get pleased.

“You’ve been alone for far too long on this continent… Tell me… When was the last time you seduced someone?” Her voice was a whisper now, her breath hot against your throat as she pressed closer—the space between you gone.

“Not counting Monoco?” You tried to joke, but nothing in this realm was going to pull Shin Yuna away from you at this point, in which you decide to say truthfully: “I don’t have a number, but I will admit, it has been a while…”

“So?” She murmured, slowly, deliberately walking you backwards against a tree bark, her fingers trailing up your arms—scars and all—like she was memorizing every ridge. The rough wood pressed into your back, but all you could focus on was the heat of her frame pressing against yours, the way her thigh slid between yours with calculated intent.

“Are you gonna keep me waiting?” She uttered, young yet sharpful eyes staring up back at you like a predator circling its prey—patient, inevitable.

Your hands held her waist before you even knew it. The sheer heat of her tall yet thin body against yours—so impossibly alive.

“Do you even need to ask?” You muttered low.

And that’s when all forms of restraint left you both. Her lips crashed into yours with a hunger that matched the fire now consuming you—hot, reckless, all-consuming. The taste of her was young–sharp and something darker, something addictive—and you pulled her closer, fingers digging into the curve of her hips hard enough to bruise.

You hear her moan into your mouth, a sound that sent sparks shooting straight to your already aching cock, and you could feel her smirk against your lips as she ground her thigh against yours.

“Oh… For a hundred year old man… You’re quite packing down there…” She uttered when she pressed her thighs against yours, her groin grinding against yours when she pushed herself further into you, and your hands pulling her back flush against your body.

The contact was beyond astonishing. The feeling of her, her skin radiating heat through the thin fabric of her underwear, her breath ragged against your neck—each sensation was like an electric current surging through you.

For the first time in ages past, You felt like you wanted someone; her; Shin Yuna. And the way she rocked against you, hips rolling with slow, teasing precision, told you she knew exactly what she was doing. Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging sharply, and the sting only drove you wilder.

“Fuck,” you growled against her lips, your hands sliding down to grip the back of her thighs, hauling her up effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around your waist.

The friction was maddening, the press of her core against your straining erection sending waves of dizzying pleasure up your spine.

“Does your generation prefer to go rough?” You couldn’t help but ask, especially with how deliberate and hungry the girl was squirming in your arms.

“Depends…” She uttered, breath hot as her fingers dug into your shoulders—sharp nails scraping against old scars.

“How do *you* prefer it?” She added in the midst of your kissing.

“We used to take our time… Savor the moment… But you… You look like you’re starving,” You uttered back against her neck, biting down just hard enough to draw a gasp from her—her pulse hammering beneath your lips.

Her nails dug deeper, dragging down your back in a way that made your muscles tense, your hips pressing up against her with a groan. And when you spun around and pinned her against the tree line, she only grinned—wild, unapologetic—like she had been waiting for this exact moment. The way her body arched into yours, the way her breath hitched when your fingers untied the knot on her neck, the only thing keeping her dress intact.

And when the fabric fell, you couldn’t help but pause—just for a second—to take in the sight of her bare skin under the moonlight, the way her collarbones caught the silver glow like a blade’s edge.

“Like what you see?” She murmured, her voice thick with amusement.

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, especially when the only thing keeping her clothed were her thin underwear. Your fingers traced the taut skin of her stomach, watching as her muscles twitched under your touch. She exhaled sharply when your palm slid up to cup her breast, thumb brushing over the stiff peak through the damp fabric.