#But no instead my nose is blocked my head hurts and my face hurts and it is eveil
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𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮’𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 prt 1.
Barou Shouei x FemReader (slight x Nagi Seishiro in prt 2)
it all started because he bullied your brother, it all started when 12 year old you kicked a ball into his face. Growing up with your eventual sweetheart wasn’t all smooth sailing, life was full of lessons but through the rough and smooth one thing Barou always knew; you were always his girl. Sometimes though even a king needed to lose his throne to realise his true royalties were what built it.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI + virginity loss (both 18+) + angst with eventual comfort + fluff + long fic / Tugs & Texts expansion + established relationship with Barou + smut +
Word count 11.4k
Barou was always king of the field since he started at 6 years old and discovered how good it felt to win, how natural he was at this sport and it was his domain; it was where he belonged.
This discovery meant Barou dominated the field wherever he went, crushing anyone who crossed his path for the next six years.
Until one day he happened to crush the wrong person.
He’d kicked the ball hard towards the goal aiming for it to be a score but some brave kid decided to block the strike.
He walked over, looming over the boy as he curled into himself holding his face, blood and snot gushing from his as is skin burned bright red. Barou’s hands shoved into his pockets as he half leaned over him.
“Tsk, what a donkey thinking you’d block that, learnt your lesson?”
12 year old Barou with his new lingo, new insults to throw at people, left the field and thought nothing of it, just another who got in his way and learned to stay out of it; until the next day he met his karma.
“You!”
Barou had been taking part in his strict training routine in the rain, at 12 years old he set his mindset and goals high; creating a routine that he researched and put together through PE, his favourite subject in school.
Red eyes turned to the girly voice that called out angrily in the rain but instead of meeting who was calling him, his face was met with a ball, smacking him clean in the face and actually making him take a few steps back.
“You asshole! Thinking you can treat people like you do, you hit the wrong boy yesterday Shouei! I’m gonna make your life hell!”
He never even seen you coming, a mere voice in the rain and suddenly blood gushed from his nose; his hand clamped over it to stop the bleeding.
Eyes wide he pulled his hand from his face to stare at the fresh blood, even his damn teeth were hurting.
Barou met your eyes for the first time in his life, shocked to the core a freaking girl had kicked the ball that hard.
“who the hell you supposed to be, the babies girlfriend!?”
“That was my brother and he’s only 8 you idiot!”
Barou straightened as he took you in, you looked roughly around his age definitely not as young as the kid yesterday. That fire in your eyes was burning but what Barou was more impressed with was the accuracy and strength of your strike with the ball. You stood in the rain, practically steaming as it hit you because you were so angry.
Then you spun and disappeared leaving 12 year old Barou with sore teeth, bleeding nose and pounding head.
Perhaps even his heart thumping more than it should be.
—0—
You certainly kept your promise; making Barou Shouei’s left hell for the next four years. Although at this point he was convinced it was just habit, no one could hold a grudge for this long surely?
The fact he could see that damn gleam in your eye, those lips twitching in a little smirk when you pushed his buttons, when he squared up to you pressing his forehead to yours and you only pushed back was proof you were enjoying it.
So he tried to not feed it.
He was the better person, walking away or ignoring you. He did best to avoid you, but found him you always did!
The only one really brave enough to bother him, to get in his space was you. Girls were too scared to approach him in person, deflated by love notes left in his locker; he simply threw them away never even opening them.
Even the guys stayed away from him unless it was his soccer team.
He became a bit of a loner, seemingly content in his own company or focusing on his football dream. His arrogance and ego grew into something rather ugly, adopting manners of being a king, everyone being a peasant or a donkey.
You’d stood up to Barou from day one, the only reason you survived it was because his patience and morals were incredible; he didn’t believe in hitting girls. Even if you standing up to him wasn’t going to stop any time soon.
However, being sixteen and hormones arriving changed things up.
Where things remained very much the same for you towards him, Barou’s teenage boy mind was starting to mess with his exchanges with you. He’d started to really try to stay away, his gaze noticing things in you he hadn’t before and it disgusted him.
Like how you standing up to him, never backing down and being just as stubborn as he was shifted from annoying to endearing. He argued back less, unable to form insults when eyes dropping down to your shirt that was getting too tight on your chest, your skirt dancing on your thighs, how your waist dipped showing curves.
He was successful for a time, keeping distance from you and avoiding any heads butting. But this week, much to poor Shouei’s dismay, the teacher thought it was a good idea to pair you both together for a project.
even the whole class fell silent, awkwardly looking between each other. No other teacher was brave enough to pair up you both, but this one seemed to twinkle something mischievous in her eyes over it.
Barou had been unusually quiet with you for the last two weeks and he had been avoiding you like the plague.
Why? You had no idea.
You didn’t really care either.
“Get into your pairs and decide what you’re going to do for the arts project.”
Barou’s eyes darkened as you stood from your seat knowing he wouldn’t move towards you, the rest of the class moved and chatter started throughout the room making sure they had distance from you both. The occasional side glances to see if you’d killed each other yet.
You slid into the high stool next to him with a little too much sass, red eyes glancing down at your school skirt riding up, thigh high socks squeezing the tops of your thighs and he groaned, turning away to glare at the wall and fight the heat crawling up his neck.
“So Barou,” you sang, he inhaled deeply arms crossing tighter against his chest that was getting bigger every passing month, it was impressive how the guy had shot up like he had. He was so freaking tall and growing more muscle by the week.
“What’cha wanna do with your favourite subject?”
“Like hell I know. You do it, keep that shit off me.”
He hated arts and crafts because it was so damn messy, he was already glaring at the paper on the table and the different pencils, charcoals and paints lined up to use.
“Awh c’mon!” You grabbed the charcoal pencil and started to press it hard on the paper, gathering a nice little patch of black dust before placing it down and pressed your index finger into it.
Barou actually gritted his teeth at the mess, eyes tearing from the page to look else where whilst you started to draw something with the charcoal.
You were always good at portraits or forms of the anatomy, he’d seen you work with charcoal a lot and despite its mess the end results were always good.
He’d give you that.
“So, I’m surprised you haven’t kicked off being paired with me.”
“You’re good at the subject, you’ll get us a pass. I’m not foolish enough to not take the best in here, means I don’t have to touch this shitty stuff either.”
Your silence and lack of work on the paper made him turn to look at you, only to see you looking at him suspiciously.
“The fuck you starin’ at?!”
“Where’s Barou?”
He scoffed and looked away realising he’d just somewhat complimented you to your face. You laughed and scratched your cheek with your finger forgetting about the charcoal coating the pad.
“I’ll get us passes useless Barou! Don’t you worry!”
You returned your attention back to the paper and Barou’s eyes moved to you when you weren’t looking. Red gaze watching your face, your tongue sticking out a bit as you concentrated with a small smile on your lips. Eyes beaming with joy at you setting your skills on something you enjoyed.
Damn it you’d grown up so much, he wasn’t the only one who’d shot up. You started to lose that baby fat on your cheeks, your hair had got longer and you always smelled so damn good. Your shirts were always ironed and perfectly white, he’d notice the material hugging you more as your breasts had started to grow, the shape of you changing as you both hit 16.
His eyes moved to your face again, noticing a few strands of hair had fallen from your successful attempt of a messy bun to stop it getting in the way whilst drawing.
He then noticed the black smudge on your cheek and he glared at it, his hand twitching already to remove it.
How had you got that on your face so damn quickly!
“Ta-da!!!”
You held the page up, a dust of black cloud flying off causing Barou to shoot from his seat quickly.
“Watch it you slob!”
You looked over your shoulder with a dry expression,
“You’re such a princess Barou,”
“Piss off.”
You blew him a kiss and looked back at you work, your photographic memory paying off as you grinned at it.
“Hmm, just needs a title, how about….” You pondered for a second before lighting up and grabbing a pencil, scribbling down before sliding it to him.
‘The King’s Strike.’
Barou stared at the page, you slid in front of him. The perfect striking pose, shirtless with just shorts, his long socks, shin pads and soccer boots. Muscles drawn perfectly, the twist of the body and shadowed with the charcoal. The ball moving towards the goal, every detail was there.
Then his hair.
It was him. Striking a goal.
“It was you at the game last week,” you said boredly, “-s’yours if you want it.”
“You were there?” He looked at you finally and you shrugged, looking off across the class.
“Since last year,”
“Every game?”
“Uh -yeah. The girls like watching you lot, I find it boring but seeing you prance around like a show pony is midly entertaining.”
Shit why did he suddenly feel so hot? He didn’t even give a shit that you’d insulted him, he was so focused on the fact you’d been watching him and he never knew.
His hands got clammy, his heart accelerating in his chest like it did after he scored at the same time he felt fucking nervous. The bell ringing broke his gaze on the drawing, you jumped down from your stool and turned to leave.
Barou had other ideas, grabbing your wrist before you got too far you spun back and looked at his grip on you to him. Frowning you opened your mouth to say something but Barou dragged you down with him to grab his bag.
“You scrub you can’t just leave like that, you’re gonna get that shit everywhere! You’re fucking filthy!”
Pulling out a pack of cleaning wipes you stared at him like he’d grown three heads, before snorting a laugh, then it went full blown.
“You carry those in your school bag?! Hahahahaha!”
“Shut it you slob.”
Heat crawled up his neck but he battled it down, his hand lifted your wrist to clean your fingers with the wipe. What the hell was he doing?
“It’s even under your fucking nail -ugh this is disgusting.” He was grumbling to himself and you froze staring at him, he was surprisingly gentle actually, you thought he was finished until he grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together causing your lips to perk and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched in your throat as the closeness.
Reaching up with a new wipe to clean the smudge on your cheek.
“I gotta game Saturday,” he grumbled, voice deep and gruff, refusing to look at you longer than a glance. You were worried he could feel your heart thumping in your chest, or how hot your cheeks felt under his fingers.
“You comin?”
You nodded dumbly your eyes taking in his features being this close. Completely forgetting if you even had any plans this weekend, you felt blank at the moment, heat stirring in your chest and you actually rubbed your thighs together.
When did this guy get so damn handsome? His eyes were so… red, his hair looked so soft, he’d grown substantially and he absolutely towered over you now.
“Front row on our teams side,”
His eyes flicking to your mouth before locking with your eyes.
“-got it, girl?”
Barou released your cheeks and grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and leaving the room; you stood dumbfounded at what the hell just happened.
You looked to the table, he’d taken the drawing.
Unknown to you, the old lady art teacher was chuckling in her seat, fingers pressed together and her glasses glinting watching you both.
“I knew it.”
—0—
You’d attended his game, sitting where he told you to and you watched how each game turned him more into an asshole on the field. He was cruel, selfish and egotistical yet you couldn’t stop watching him.
You’d made a mess more often in arts because he couldn’t stop himself from cleaning you up, accidentally spilling things on your hands and making art class extra messy. Even when you weren’t paired together he’d storm across the room when everyone left.
You’d make sure your tie looked off when you seen him and he’d straighten it because it drove him mad. It amused you endlessly, weirdly liking it each time he got closer to you.
It all started from Art classes, graduating closer to you, using the excuse he knew you’d make a mess. It started simple, minor until it progressed into pairing with you for projects. Glowering down at whoever was next to you and getting them to move. They were scared whilst your eyes twinkled in amusement up at him, until he glared at you for staring at him.
Where it began it arts to spread to each class he shared with you, seating next to you or keeping you as a study partner. You didn’t find yourself questioning it, a light tease every now and then which he found himself not biting to.
The day he caught you walking home in the rain without an umbrella he let you stand under his, belittling you the entire walk home for being a dumbass and forgetting it.
Your heart racing when you seen his shoulder wet, hanging out from the umbrella to keep you dry. So you made him a bento as a thank you, he was skeptical at first, looking at it with disgust and you didn’t think he’d eat it, until he handed it back clean and empty the next day.
That one walk turned into him waiting at the gate no matter the weather, he’d listen to you ramble on about absolute bullshit wondering why he tolerated you above everyone else; perhaps your amazing bento boxes he had daily now were the reason.
The morning he caught you running on the weekend during the summer; those shorts riding fair too far up your thighs and ass leaving nothing to the imagination. He couldn’t shift the image of your sweat glistening skin, chest heaving as you sucked air back in, your sports bra pushing everything up and playing on his teenage mind.
He started running with you, leaving his headphones in whilst you had yours in. Every weekend morning he’d be waking you up at stupid times to run and you kept up with him. You’d both stop at a shop to buy a drink on the wall home to cool down.
“My feet are buzzing!”
“Get better trainers then you idiot,”
“I did! They haven’t arrived yet.”
“Then why are you fucking running if they’re hurting?”
You pouted and prodded his bicep,
“-and miss our morning dates, getting all hot, sweaty and out of breath with you? Pft!”
Barou handed you a cold bottle of water, pressing the cold bottle to your forehead whilst gulping down his. You side glanced watching his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow.
His shirt was off, tucked into his waist band of his shorts and sweat dripping down his body. The temperature was already getting unbearable this early in the morning. Ditching his empty bottle he started to walk forwards, glancing over his shoulder at your slower pace and fiddling with the bottle.
“Don’t say a damn word,” He sighed in annoyance and stopped, crouching to his knee he glared over his shoulder. “-up.”
His hands gripped your thighs tightly, wrapping them around his sides and feeling you press your body flush against his back, arms wrapping lazily around his neck and resting your head on top of his.
People started gossiping, started suggesting that Barou had his eyes on you, the mutterings and the rumour of being Barou’s girl started circulating around.
It was all talk, nothing had actually happened between you both but you’d noticed the change in him as much as you had yourself, it was slow but each week over the last year progressed into something. From enemies to practically seeing each other daily, to him eating your bento boxes and being at each game.
Then a day came after you both turned 17 and attended a certain game that changed it all, sat at the front on his teams side like you always had done for the past year since he first told you to.
This time you weren’t alone, some guy was sat next to you and you were polite enough to speak with him when he tried to talk with you. He was funny, polite and kept you company. You laughed with him, probably flirted a little bit because you were a natural flirt, what? It was fun!
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the red eyed king on the field. Anger boiled in Barou each time his focused slipped to you and by the end of his match he was seething despite winning the scores, his usual fans screamed and wailed for him but it did nothing to distract him of that image with you and that guy.
Barou ignored his team cheering, stomping over he removed his jersey from his last game, sweat and muscles grabbing eyes and girls squealed at the view.
Before you knew it a sweaty ass jersey had collided with your head, scrambling to remove it only hearing Barou’s pissed off voice.
“Oi, you fucking donkey get lost, she’s taken.”
Stunned and embarrassed by the show in front of crowds you were left gawking as Barou made his way off the field with his team behind him.
The next day had you stomping up to Barou whilst training, he was warming up by himself as usual taking up his strict daily work out routine.
Jesus even in that baggy hoody he was wearing he looked massive, his back looked huge as you stomped up to him, inwardly feeling your confidence shaken as you drew closer suddenly feeling smaller with each step.
“Oi! King douche!”
Barou grunted and looked over his shoulder at you with a bored expression, eyes giving you a once over before half turning to you; the only one he’d paused his warm up for even if it was only a few moments.
You marched to him, gripping his hoody at the front and pulling him down to your height.
“What the hell was that about yesterday huh?”
Barou glanced down at your hand gripping his hoody before meeting you again, eyes bored he cocked at eyebrow. He could have easily pulled back but he remained half bent to your height.
“Mind telling me who exactly I’m taken by? Cause I seemed to have forgotten that happening.”
“By me,”
You sputtered at his bluntness your grip loosened on him and you leaned back.
“What? You- I- what are you talking about? That’s a two way conversation Barou! You never asked me an-“
“Date me then,”
“Will you stop being so blunt! At least act like you’re actually interested!”
“Date me, I can tolerate you.”
You deadpanned at his lazy bluntness and released your grip on him, stepping back you went to leave.
Barou heard your grumbling about him, his eye twitched at you walking away from him.
“Always so fucking stubborn.” He sighed, his hand grabbing your wrist he spun you back, other hand threading through your hair into a grip and pulling you to him.
His mouth pressed to yours in a movement too smooth for someone as belligerent as Barou to pull off, but he made up for it with how roughly he kissed.
You could taste the mint on his tongue, his lips were so damn soft, he was uncoordinated and rough, teeth biting your bottom lip too hard and his tongue running over it as if it was apologising. Greedy, messy, impatient and rough yet some kind of softness under it all —exactly what you’d expect from him.
His hand at the back of your head kept you from leaving as he pulled back, his lips shining from spit and your lip gloss. He pressed his forehead against you, eyes peering into you as he towered over you.
“Got it, girl?”
“Barou, was that your first kiss?”
The heel of his hand pressed to your forehead replacing his and he pushed you backwards.
“Get lost I have training to do.”
It totally was, you snickered and turned to leave, failing to see Barou’s thumb swipe his bottom lip, tongue following savouring the taste of you and your lip balm. A smirk twitching on his mouth as he looked over his shoulder to see you walking away with a little bounce in your step.
—0—
Baron always thought the act of kissing was pretty disgusting, the germs and how unclean it was to swap spit, eighteen years of that thought it was all thrown out the window when he realise the taste of your lip balm was addicting. That subtle hint of cherry lingered more than your usual strawberry flavoured one and he groaned into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.
The little moan that left you made his hips roll up into yours, that bulge in his shorts running painfully tight against you, his hands gripping your hips with the intent to bruise.
You’d come over to his house surprising him in his room when he returned from a shower, the little running shorts you had on were far too short, the loose fitting white sports top and red sports bra underneath left little to the imagination also. The towel thrown over his shoulder, stood in his gym shorts and listening to the giggles of his little sisters signally they were the ones who let you in.
The distance between you lasted seconds after his door slammed shut, he only half turned around to see you’d strode up behind him, throwing your arms around his neck and jumping up knowing he’d catch you.
It hadn’t taken him long to walk to his bed blindly, hands gripping your thighs and you kissing him like you hadn’t seen him only yesterday. He turned, fell to his bed and let you straddle him as he sat up, you’d been kissing since, rolling your hips against his.
“So birthday boy, you’re finally eighteen,”
Barou sneered, rolling his eyes as you lowered your lips to his jaw line, rolling your hips against the bulge in his shorts causing an airy moan to leave him.
“You’re little over a month older, stop acting so superior.”
You laughed against his neck, straightening yourself and leaning back, his hands sliding up to your lower back to aid your angle, you hands linking behind his neck.
“Speaking of which, did you know our star signs are the best match?”
“Don’t start with this shit again, its bullshit-“
You laughed, eyes gleaming and his softened watching your pure amusement above him, skin still glistening with sweat from your run here, lips plump from kissing him so hard.
And his poor heart kicked in his ribs, a sudden burst of emotion swelling up his chest and it spread like heat.
“I was thinking of what to get you for your birthday-“ you wiggled off him, his grip on you a little reluctant to let you go but your hand pressing against his hard cock made his jaw clench, “-you locked the door right?”
Fuck.
Fuck.
It was finally happening huh? It wasn’t often Barou felt himself caught off guard, or any confidence shaken because he was pretty grounded, but his nerves jumped not showing it in his expression and yours didn’t falter either.
You’d both decided to wait until you were eighteen, given you’d turned that age a little over a month ago he didn’t think you’d be so literal in the agreement when he turned it.
When you dropped to your knees between his, hands gliding up to the waist band of his shorts that were doing very little to hide his dick, you tugged and he didn’t move for a second, red eyes looking down at your pouting face, his hair still down from his shower as it draped over his broad shoulders.
His hand cupped your chin locking gazes with you.
“Ain’t no pressure or rush, shouldn’t be doin’ it just cause its my birthday,”
“Your dicks literally flexing under my hand-“
“That ain’t the point!” He seethed, other hand gripping your wrist pulling it from his cock and you pouted at him, actually fucking pouted and he sucked his teeth, his self restrain faltering for a second at your pouty ass face.
“You even know what you’re fucking doin?”
“Kinda, but it gets me off trying it for the first time so, think of it as a joint birthday present!”
You’d watched Barou’s jaw tightened, red eyes sliding off to look at his door in concern knowing his little sisters were running around due to his parents being out, his attention quickly brought back to you when you tugged at his waist band again.
“I put frozen on for them and bought a bag of sweets -we have two hours.”
You heard Barou click his tongue and he stood, tilting his head down to watch as you leaned back onto your ass, knees still on the floor and looked up at him all doe eyed. His black hair falling to the side he tilted and his thumbs ran under the band of his shorts, pulling it down low enough so his little trimmed snail trail appeared before the head of his dick rested over the band.
You groaned and licked your lips, reaching up to skim your fingers along his hips.
“B please,” his jaw clenched, nervous for reasons he didn’t quite understand but he hid it well, his cock flexing at your tongue licking your swollen lips, eyes glazing with something he hadn’t seen before and your whiny little beg.
“Take it easy-“ one of his thumbs pushed his shorts, releasing his cock with a heavy slap to his stomach, a sticky line of pre linking to his dick and your eyes widened, a smug smirk gracing his face and his ego soared at your shocked expression. Confidence taking over his concern at you faltering, his other hand went for your pony tail, twisting it around his hand and pushing your face to the hilt of his cock, “-I ain’t small so don’t get carried away.”
His confidence faltered when yours overtook his in strides, tongue pressing to the gap between his shaft and balls, licking a thick, slow line up to the head of his dick before swirling your tongue around it. Barou watched the pre melt on your tongue, you moaned and he fucking melted.
You laughed when he let out some choked noise at the feel of your tongue swirl around the head of his dick, before kissing the underside of it looking at him like you were in love.
“Taste good B-“ you hummed against it rising a hand to wrap around his dick not even managing to touch your fingers because of his sheer girth, you pumped up and his body jolted forward the hand tightened around your hair, “-can I suck now?”
“F-Fuck,” you took that as your go ahead and wasted no time in wrapping your lips around his cock sinking down enough so you were comfortable at your limit, his dick flexed in your warm mouth and when you moaned around his cock Barou was finished, both hands held either side of your face and you gripped him tighter refusing to budge.
“G-Get off, fuck- Hold on,-“ your name left his mouth in a such a whiny tone you looked up to check this was actually Barou, only smirking around his cock at his expression. Eyes blow and wide, mouth agap and he was damn drooling.
Your eye contact with him, his thick cock in your mouth, hand wrapped around him and that little smirk would stick with Barou until his dying day he was sure of it, he came so quickly he didn’t even have to warn you, your expression changing to shock as thick ropes of cum spilled into your mouth so hard it shot to the back of your throat.
Hips jolting, six pack flexing as he released his first orgasm with you, lasting less than five minutes in your mouth for the first time.
You didn’t stop, spit and cum creating a sloppy mess down your chin, hollowing your cheeks and tongue rubbed against the head of his dick you bobbed on his cock; his voice broke as he tried to growl out your name, hand gripping painfully now on your hair trying to pull you off.
Looking back up at him you almost laughed, his eyes borderline cross eyed, drool now spilling to his chin and his hips bucking with each stroke of your tongue. You were overstimulating him and you knew it, you were clenching around nothing and you could feel yourself soaked through your running shorts. Spit and cum dribbled down your neck into your cleavage, knowing Barou would have a fit about it when he managed to uncross his eyes.
His body recoiled and he sat back on the bed, panting like he’d just finished a soccer match and sweating as much. You rose your hand to wipe your mouth on the back of it, eyes glazed and looking at Barou like he was prey, red eyes drinking in the mess you made but unable to ignore you licking your lips.
“Maybe the film I picked was too long-“
You shouldn’t have doubted Barou’s ability to recover, you shouldn’t have been snarky. He growled and your face faltered for a second, all amusement or taunting left you, blinded with being too cocky and confident with your actions to think that you’d had ever beaten Barou Shouei.
“You’re dead-“
You stood up quickly, a little wobbly from numb knees on Barou’s bedroom carpet and turned to leave, hoping to seek safety in his little sisters downstairs, he was quicker, a thick, strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him with a half screaming leaving you.
“Shut the fuck up-“ his mouth pressed to your ear, his deep warning made bumps rise over your skin, his hand clamped over your mouth stifling your noise and holding you in place whilst the hand around your waist dipped into your shorts. Barou wasted no time in roughly sliding a finger clumsily down your clit right to your hole, your hips jolting forward and your cry was muffled under his hand. “-you’re soaking.”
He growled into your ear, deep voice making you clench around nothing but Barou felt your pussy pulse against the pad of his finger resting at your entrance, he rolled it gathering slick to glide it back to your clit and the pace he set was cruel. You didn’t know if it was lack of experience or because he was trying to be mean, but he was rough with your clit, rolling circles around it with one finger your hips stuttering and legs threatening to give out from under you as you struggled to stand.
You were begging him but his hand blocked any clarity from your words, your hands finding grip on his forearm across your chest trying to pull it from your mouth. It made you realise how strong Barou was, he was solid, unmoving and had you against him with no match on his strength. His finger suddenly dipped down to your hole and pushed in to the knuckle, your eyes widened and you screamed under his palm, his lips pressed to your temple, tears blurred your vision from the over stimulation and the need to cum.
“Not so cocky now are you?” You weren’t expecting him to roll his hips into your lower back, hard cock gliding along your spine above your ass, “You’re cryin’ from a finger, how you gonna take this?”
“Mock me again and I’ll put you in your place, nod if you understand and I’ll let you cum.”
Tears had spilled down your cheeks at this point, weaving between his fingers mixing with your drool under it and guilt hit him, his ego too large to back down resulting in him kissing your cheeks, kissing the tears away and giving you a shhh to try and sooth you. When you finally nodded he sighed and pulled his finger from your pussy, pad rolling back to your clit where he ran soothing circles around it. A relieved sigh left you under his hand, soft moans vibrating against his skin and his only sign before you came was your hips starting to roll desperately.
“Nod if you’re gonna cum,” you did and he hummed against you, picking up his pace, “-cum f’me then.”
Barou groaned against you as your body stuttered against him, your hands gripping his thighs behind you to support yourself and he caught you when you went slack in his arms, pulling his hand from your mouth he hooked it around your waist to hold you up. The other from your pussy he rose it to his mouth cleaning his fingers off.
“Shit, you taste good.”
The slamming on his door made you both jump and his grip on you tightened in response.
“Big brother! Mummy and Daddy are home, so stop smooching your girlfriend!!”
“Fuck-“
“Don’t swear big brother!”
“Get lost brat!”
You heard some kind of grumble under her breath as one of his sisters stomped off back down the stairs, seeing Barou flustered was rare and watching him grab clothes to put on, hard dick bouncing with each stride made you cackle. Earning a glare over his shoulders as he pulled a top on.
“Fuck you find so funny?”
You shrugged and adjusted your shorts before pulling your pony tail back to to tidy up.
“You’re still hard-“
“Yeah? No shit,”
Barou sneered under his breath as he sat on the bed to pull his socks on, dressing to go out on a run to match your attire because apparently that’ll hide the suspicion of both your flustered faces. You walked over and leaned down, tucking his hair behind his ear.
“I like your hair down, never seen it like this before. You’re real handsome you know that?”
He blushed, Barou Shouei fucking blushed, you didn’t mock or tease him on it, your soft eyes looking directly at his and they had a teary glaze over them. He blinked at you in surprise before rolling his eyes and returning back to his socks.
“Know its my birthday but stop with the crap. Coulda just got me some damn cleaning stuff, I don’t need all the compliments n’shit.”
His voice was low, trying to sound harsh but he just couldn’t, he just wanted to try and deflect that damn look on your face because it looked like some girl looking at the love of her life in corny romance show. His nerves kicked under his skin, his heart racing and he felt the heat in his cheeks but when he watched your eyes glisten and he hated it.
He’d known you since he was 12, he’s bullied you, called you all sorts of names. Hell he’s seen other girls get nasty to you but you’ve never cried, you’ve never had those pretty eyes glisten with tears.
He stood, rare concern suddenly fleeting over him and he cupped your face, thumbs wiping over your cheeks as the tears spilled down them, for a second he thought it was him -maybe he was too rough with you, too forceful and let his ego drive him.
“M’sorry its so fucking stupid,”
Barou Shouei was a deep thinker, his mind raced more than he let off and it started to, to the point a fleeting thought of you breaking up with him actually surfaced by his building paranoia. Even if it didn’t make fucking sense that you would, it still annoyingly crossed his mind.
“What’s stupid?”
“I think I’m in love with you, B.”
Shouei stopped breathing, he froze, eyes widening as they locked with your glassy ones and you laughed through crying.
“Happy Birthday, Barou!” You mumbled through silly tears, trying so hard to deflect it with your shitty humour but watching you laugh through tears almost made a smile form on his own mouth.
“The hell you damn cryin’bout it you idiot?”
You opened your mouth to respond but his covered yours before you could start blabbering something out to him, the kiss was slow and messy but it was his own way of responding to your confession. He could taste himself on your tongue, mixed with that cherry lip balm and he groaned into you.
“You’re my girl,” he spoke against your mouth before planting a kiss to your forehead and pushing you towards the door.
—0—
Blue lock was a shock.
It wasn’t easy to suddenly have Barou gone from your life when you were so used to having him around for the last seven years, but perhaps it was a good thing. Soccer was his priority and you knew that from day one, you never thought you were above it and quite frankly you didn’t care. Some of your girlfriends didn’t get it, perhaps they were more needy, wanting to enjoy their youths with boys and having that American dream. Driving in cars late and night, recreating the titanic scene with the steam window and hand prints.
You used the opportunity to do the same as Barou and that was focus on yourself, you concentrated on your studies you perused what you wanted and you taught yourself not to rely on him.
You sent him a text every Friday about your week, you sent him texts when you were horny, you sent photos, videos but there was never a delivered messaged, never a response. You tried to keep positive, you tried to not let his lack of existence bother you.
But it was hard, some nights you teared up and called yourself selfish, sometimes you scolded him for not even trying to contact you. What kept you going was coffee and that his future was about to take off with the dreams he had.
He simply had to do it and you knew he’d be recognised, he’d be successful.
The day he called without much to say was the day you knew something was up with him.
“Well, I’ll let you go king~ keep devouring, keep pushing yourself and keep learning Barou. You’re gonna eat them alive and when you’re back, you can eat me alive again~! Turns out that unholy mouth of yours really does show me heaven~!”
You laughed as you hung up and sure enough after he earned his phone back that day, after he asked for a photo of just you -nothing sexual, nothing crude, just a simple photo of you in a summer dress you knew he was missing you.
He never told you he loved you back but you never felt unloved by him.
He’d text you occasionally, sounding blunt and trying to come across like texting was taxing on his time, even though he was the one who often messaged first. Waking up at an ungodly hour to say good morning and texting before you even ate with a goodnight.
When the two weeks off from Blue Lock arrived and Barou appeared at your new apartment, moving out of your family home and the visit was anything but tame. You’d still not had sex before he left and he was about to change it, hearing some of the guys talking in the lockers, seeing your messages and photos, missing you in general made for a messy and truthfully painful first experience.
“Gotta let me in,” his third finger entered you, twisting before spreading them and you bucked up into him, panting as you gripped the pillows behind you, “-think I’m gonna fit if you're this tight around my fingers? Open up girl,”
His tongue pressed against your clit and your eyes rolled back, pussy spread out from his fingers exposing your hardened bundle of nerves to him.
“M’cumming Barou!”
He hummed against your clit, red eyes peering up at you from your pussy as his tongue swirled on you, watching your chest heaving, body stuttering as you came down from another high.
Barou withdrew his fingers, wrapping it around his cock and he pumped a few times, spreading slick across the head of his dick before pressing it to your entrance.
“You got the birth control, right?”
You nodded dumbly, still panting from orgasm and almost too fucked out to process that he’d pressed his thick head to your already swollen hole, until he started to push forward and you tensed at the stretch. Barou clicked his tongue, eyes focused on wanting to watch his dick sink into you for the first time, it flexed at the thought of being the one to spread you open.
But your struggle made something conflicting lurch in his chest.
“I-I know you wanna watch b, I need your help though —it’s too big.”
He groaned at your pleading tone, damn well melting for you and sourly reminding him just how easily he’d put you first compared to anyone else in his life, including himself.
Barou shifted, one arm resting above your head to hover over you, the other moved down to press a thumb to your clit and your hips bucked at the sensitivity.
“Look at me,”
You did as he asked, teary eyes meeting his and you hiked your knees higher up his sides, one leg curling around his back, sitting next to your hand gripping his ass, the other holding his wrist to tug it off your clit, lacing his fingers through yours and placing it near your head.
Pushing his hips forward until his thick head pushed through and you moaned, Barou inhaled sharply, restraining himself from just burying himself into the hilt. You were so damn warm and it was sucking him in, that moan was only spurring him to test his self control.
“S’it, let her suck me in, she wants it, so let me damn well give it and stop being a fuckin’ tease.”
He felt you relax and he took the opportunity, bullying the rest of his way in and pressing into you balls deep. Burying his face into your neck as his hips stuttered, airy moan breathed onto your skin. Your teeth met his shoulder, biting down on him muffling your pained whimper at the burn.
He stilled himself, fighting himself to not cum as you clamped around him letting you adjust before he gave a test thrust, one turning into two before he set a pace that had your cunt squelching under him in no time. Your hips rolling to meet his and he realised watching your face, your expressions and doe eyes all fucked out was a better first image to have of you like this for the first time.
Barou watched as your head tilted back, a noise he’d never heard leave you as you moaned in a way that was borderline unholy, it sent a pulse to his cock, flexing it inside you and spurred him to thrust harder.
“Make that noise again-“ he felt you tighten around him, still keeping your head tilted and your body tensed, “that’s it huh? Right here?”
You nodded and babbled at him, slurring words to encourage him not to stop, the slapping of his wet balls hitting your ass, cunt swallowing him sloppily as he hit that spot over and over until you came around him for the first time, your hands blinding reaching for him in support as you literally convulsed, eyes rolling back and toes curling.
“Atta girl,” he groaned into your neck as your body fell slack, breathing heavy under him and his pace turned feral. Chasing his own end and using you under him to catch it, the only reason he lasted this long was because you’d sucked the life from him before this.
You always got so wet with his cock in your mouth, he loved how much you loved it, wrapping your arms around his thighs, sliding his thick cock down your throat like a pro. He’d cum so hard he ended up pushing you off him because you wouldn’t stop, finding it funny he was jolting under you from overstimulation, making a noise he’d never heard leave him before; some beggy whine that made you moan on his cock.
He didn’t like mess, but hell he loved seeing his cock buried in your mouth with his cum drooling out.
“B-Barou I’m gonna cum again! Don’t stop! There, there, fuck harder please! Cum in me, fill me up!”
He groaned at your babbling, tears spilling down your cheeks, your breath hitching when he gave you a harder thrust that had you looking at him a little worried.
“Who you think you’re barking orders at huh?”
He was panty, breathy as he spoke but his voice still so deep, little bite behind it as he felt himself about to cum.
“You want me to fill you up? Best hold it in, don’t fucking waste it.”
You nodded dumbly, desperately at him.
“Hah- I won’t, I’m cumming, I’m gonna -I love you, fuck you’re so b-big,”
He smiled at you, heart hammering in his ribs; you were all his.
—0—
‘Rising star Barou Shouei and potential love interest sighted again!’
Barou’s career took off at 19, three years a now. Both at twenty two years old and you knew better than to be easily swayed by headliners. You ignored posts flying around the internet but this was the third time in a month a photo was posted with the same girl and this one was hard to ignore when she had her arm gripped around his bicep.
He hardly looked amused, if anything he looked annoyed but that wasn’t exactly a rare expression for him to present when dealing with anyone, even you at times you were sure of it.
You chewed the inside of your cheek between biting your nails, anxiety suddenly flooding you about how exactly you should handle this, you didn’t know his team mates to question them or ask if you should be worried, quite frankly you’d never met anyone in this new team of his.
He wouldn’t do this.. it’s just not Barou. Cheating just isn’t his thing, he values himself too highly for it.
You ignored the notification bars at the top of your phone, pinging from different girl friends who were sending different emojis to express anger, guessing they’d forwarded the recent post to you to see.
But when Barou’s caller ID came in, covering your entire screen you let out a yelp and flung the phone across to the sofa from where you were sat, holding your breath as it rang and exhaling heavily when it stopped. Placing your hand on your heart feeling it thumping against your ribs.
Shit.
Shit why did you do that?
It rang again but you had frozen in your place, your brain telling you to answer him but your body just wouldn’t move, the only relief was when it stopped ringing.
The pinging of texts began and you picked the phone back up, watching as Barou started to message.
B > Answer your damn phone,
B > Oi! Woman you wanted me to call at seven.
You thumbs clumsily flew across the screen, your bubble showing as typing and it took Barou less than five seconds to hit the call button again.
“H-Hey B, sorry I-uh,”
“The fuck you sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re doing summit you shouldn’t be, you not been using that damn toy again have you? Told you not to use it unless I’m-“
“N-No! I wasn’t doing that, Jesus Christ Barou what if someone heard you!?”
“Why? You with someone?”
“No. Aren’t you?”
Your hand slapped across your mouth when the words left you in a snarky tone, your annoyance getting the better of you before you could stop it, a heavy sigh left him breaking the tension, his gruff voice quieter than usual.
“Ignore that bullshit online, she’s the new physio for the team, just clingy as hell.”
“So, she just gets her hands all over you when I’m not there?”
“Well yeah, she’s does treatment and sports massage, it’s no big deal. Stop with the crybaby shit, it ain’t like you.”
Oblivious freaking idiot. Your phone tucked between your shoulder and head, because your hands wrung an invisible neck in front of you like Homer with Bart.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just me being a brat huh? M’gonna go Barou, I’m tired. speak to you in a few days when you’re not so busy with your team or new physio.”
The line going dead was far from a pleasant feeling, heart dropping to his stomach he stared at the home screen of his phone, that pretty photo of you in a sundress he’d changed back in blue lock three years ago. Barou being shocked was rare, you were both twenty two now and you’d never acted like this in ten years. It felt different, his guy was screaming at him leaving it to sit heavy in his stomach.
You’d never gone to bed without saying goodnight, you’d never got angry to the point where you’d literally shut him off and he needed more fingers to count the amount of times he had said something shitty. You usually fired back, that stubbornness you had and that he found always so endearing.
Opening up the chat of you both he stared at your name, but you never came back online.
It didn’t stop him sending a text goodnight though.
When he woke to no routine good morning text, despite you having read his goodnight text at 5am it gave a sour start to his day. He didn’t do anything wrong, you were throwing a damn tantrum over nothing so he opted to give you space.
“Heh, trouble in paradise aye?”
Barou only side glared at snuffy, ignoring his attempt of conversation as the striker sat in front of the obnoxiously large tv playing whatever film took his fancy this evening whilst stretching himself out.
“Showed in your training today,”
“If you’re just here to talk shit then fuck off, I ain’t in the mood.”
Taking a seat on the sofa behind Barou, he hummed and watched the tv.
“Didn’t wanna say back along but kinda figured this would happen, girls are a distraction y’know?”
“Didn’t see you looking troubled in the hot tub photos of ya with them girls, go preach to Aiku, my girl ain’t your concern.”
“Wrong-“ Snuffy twirled the remote to the tv around in his hand, starting to flick through the channels, “-anything that runs a risk to my team playin’ is my concern. ‘Sides whilst we’re on the topic, you not thought about other girls? Instead of being with the same one? Haven’t you been with her for like, forever?”
“Sixteen and no.”
“Or not thought about how feels with you being away more than with her? Long distance is such a drag, you’re both missing out on life.”
The statement didn’t trigger Barou to think about himself, he was living his goals in life and thriving, coming back to you was a reward, a comfort he’d always known so he wasn’t trouble by any of it. But he’d never once stopped to think about you and your life at home, waiting for him to come back whilst he was off travelling the world. You never complained, you never seemed sad and always supported him, but was it all a front? Was he stopping you from living as freely as he was? He hated the thought of someone else making you happy, someone else taking his position and being around you more than he was -someone else fucking you and seeing that dumb, love struck look you gave him.
He’d never even told you he loved you back, he never felt he needed to because you just got him in ways no one else did.. but if he couldn’t even give you that, how could he give you the type of relationship you deserved?
You deserved everything and more.
“I guess we’re all different, I know I sure as hell couldn’t do it. one of the guys overheard your conversation about the new physio, the media has been in a frenzy about it so putting two and two together isn’t difficult. But fix it, it’s affecting your play and you’re headlining at the moment, don’t let this ruin your high.”
—0—
You never called him back and he hated it.
He really fucking hated it.
But instead of biting the bullet and making the move himself Barou festered and festered. His focus on football made the days go quickly but the evenings were agonisingly slow and his red eyes drifted to his phone in hopes to see your name more than he’d like to admit.
Despite his stubbornness in making the move, because Barou Shouei would never chase anyone, he was starting to wonder if this was for the best. Perhaps you’d both been together too long it just became a habit, something he was so used to that he never thought about anything else or anyone else.
Did that mean he was holding you back? Were you being selfless and he selfish?
His move to Italy wasn’t exactly a great distance to be at when things like this happened, you were both so far apart that it was difficult to just reach out, Barou didn’t think long distance was much of an issue until something went wrong.
“Hey Barou, it’s time for your physio!”
The man sucked his teeth, not particularly in the mood to deal with this girl who’d been causing havoc in his relationship.
Oliver came out groaning, swinging his shoulders and arms like tension had been released.
“She’s so good, honestly babe those hands are magic.”
She giggled at him and waved him off trying to act modest and Barou sent a harsh glare towards both.
“I’ll skip tonight, hands ain’t going anywhere near me after touching that slime ball, fuck knows what’s over your hands.”
She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.
“I bought all new hand sanitizers and wipes Shouei so get your butt in there!”
Oliver elbowed him and gave a wink, suggestive and mocking, something that made Barou’s fist curl into a ball.
“You’d be shit in a threesome,”
“Get fucked fuckboy.”
“Eh, that’s suggestive-“ Oliver recoiled with false disgust, “-you really would be shit, didn’t know you swung both ways. I ain’t into that man, only bottom I’m ever being is under a pretty girl.”
“Will you shut up? You’re disgusting.”
“You’re such grump! When was the last time you got laid or you still arguing with miss perfect? She’s wasted on you y’know, man she’s wife material, imagine the attention she gets when you ain’t there.”
Barou’s fist swung so quickly it gave zero time for Aiku to get away, just managing to miss the worst of the punch it still grazed his cheek. What he wasn’t expecting was Barou’s knee to end up in his stomach, the man urged from the impact shocked that Shouei actually managed to land a hit on him. Then slightly impressed by the fact it took more than half the team to hold him back, even then he made their feet move.
“Shouei, that’s enough!”
Perhaps Aiku had pushed a little more than he should have, but he kinda found it hard to ignore when he’d heard about trouble in paradise with you both, he hoped his taunt would spur Barou into contacting you… that it would stop his tantrum, get his head out his ass and get his head back in the game.
Cause even Aiku had seen the worth in you and Barou losing that would be foolish.
He just didn’t realise how much worse it had made it instead.
—0—
On day four in lack of communication with your boyfriend left you feeling heavy and guilty. Finding yourself sat at home staring at a letter that had arrived this morning, you graduated your degree yesterday, passing your courses and got a placement to be a paramedic.
You should be celebrating, you should be happy. Maybe out with friends, others who graduated and family. Your Mother, Father and Brother had attended the graduation and you were hoping Barou would have been there, you weren’t expecting him to be nor blamed him because he was in Italy following his own career dreams.
You never stopped him, you never expected him to detour from his focus and knew it required the majority of his time.
A small, selfish part of you was wishing he could have just paused just once to share it with you, a small part of you told yourself how amazing it would have been if him not contacting you was because he was flying back to secretly turn up at the graduation. Instead due to your stubbornness in not calling him back, you hadn’t even received a phone call or text or say congratulations.. was this your fault? Had you been a little too sensitive and dramatic about it? Were you being paranoid for no reason? You’d never been threatened by girls with him before, so why was this bothering you so?
Your gaze returned to your phone sat in your hands, silent and cold, the screen black from being untouched and you knew if you unlocked the phone it would show Barou’s contact details.
Because you’d been hovering over the call button for the last thirty minutes after opening the incredible offer letter in front of you.
It was frustrating that he didn’t seem to understand why you were annoyed and hurt, which was ridiculous because he didn’t even actually do anything wrong besides dismiss how you felt. It didn’t help either that only yesterday another photo was posted of him and the teams new physio yet again named as his potential girlfriend.
Funny how you never seen photos of her with the other boys in the team.
Nice to see that he wasn’t even trying to solve it.
You didn’t realise you were crying until little drops fell onto your black screen, your vision clouding as they filled your eyes finally springing free.
Sometimes you just needed a good cry right? Maybe it would be a good idea to get it out now before you called him, it would make it less likely you’d cry on the phone right?
The thought of letting go for a minute was enough to let the tears erupt to a sob, one of those ugly cries you needed to get out your system and you started to feel better after another thirty minutes of crying.
You wiped your tears beforing shoving your hair into a messy bun, sudden courage in you springing forth now the silliness was out of the way. A face of determination as you wiped against at your face before slapping your cheeks.
“C’mon girl, you’re being silly. It’s now or never!”
You grabbed your phone and didn’t give yourself a second of hesitation in clicking the call button.
It felt like it rang forty times, feeling ever so dramatic and like time had slowed because it only took three rings for Barou to answer.
Okay.
Good start, he answered super fast.
“Heeeeeey! Shouei’s phone!”
Your jaw dropped at the girls voice, your breath hitched in your throat and you were pretty sure your eyes almost fell out their sockets like something from Tom and Jerry.
Your voice failed you, the movement and voices turning into nothing but muffled noises because your heart was thumping so loudly in your chest your ribs were vibrating.
Fuck why were you sweating all of a sudden? Why did you feel so hot?
Christ almighty were you about to be sick?
A deeper voice calling your name eventually brought you back, you had no idea how many times Barou had said it only that by the time you registered it was him saying it you noticed concern lacing into it, because when Barou was concerned he sounded kinda pissed off like he wasn’t quite able to handle the uncertainty of something, like when his control and confidence slipped he faltered.
“Uh, I’m sorry didnt mean to- uh, I didn’t mean to bother you? I’m sorry I just, I’m sorry, we can talk later I -“
You babbled, you stumbled and you over apologised for something you didn’t even need to apologise for.
Fuck it should be him!
The fuck were you saying sorry for?!
His voice was calm, stern and trying to keep the situation from escalating he called your name in a way that brought tears to your eyes.
Fuck good was all that crying for if you were getting so easily overwhelmed like this?!
“Oi, you trust me right?”
Your hand clasped over your mouth before you could say anything, along with hiding the sob behind it but Barou heard.
You heard a door closing on his end, you heard him moving somewhere.
Did you trust him? You were overwhelmed, far too emotional at the moment and confused to even answer that, you faltered because it was all too much.
You wanted to say yes you trusted him, you wanted to speak, to talk to him about the offer letter because it would be a good thing to discuss, it was good timing.
But your sob broke through the silence again.
“Hey, don’t do that shit-“ he was quiet, his voice still carrying his usual deepness but there was something added into it you’d never heard from him, almost soothing, caring and it made you sob harder because it reminded you when you told him you loved him and silly cried over it, stupid emotions! Why couldn’t they just let you be strong for five minutes?!
“-we need to talk, huh.”
“Yeah,”
Your heart plummeted into your stomach, its fight to stay in your chest lost as the acid crept into it, churning in your stomach as your gut was telling you where this was going, your heart unable to fight or resist any longer.
“It ain’t gonna work like this, you deserve better-“
How fucking dare he.
Rage wasn’t something you felt often, it wasn’t in your personality to get angry like this, feeling it burn under your skin and desperate to act out physically. In fact the last time you remember feeling like this was when you kicked the ball into 12 year old Barou’s face for degrading your younger brother.
It suddenly became easier to hold yourself together a little better, focusing on feeling more angry than upset, them moving together in some aid to feed your fiery side.
“-if that’s what you want, Shouei.”
You were sure the lingering echo of tears and upset still clung to your tone, regardless of how strong you sounded on your side your lip was wobbling and your eyes were blurring with tears.
“I dunno what I want.”
“If it’s got to that point, then that’s the answer for us both.”
His silence was disturbing and it was only giving you room to allow another crying session to break through the very thin self restraint holding it back.
So you took control.
“Take care Shouei, all the best to you and her.”
“Oi, I ain’t with her, it ain’t like that I told you to ignore that shit in the med-“
Call ended.
Red eyes stayed down at his phone cutting off back to his background of you, hanging up on him before he was even able to finish his sentence, the regret already firing through his stomach as the heaviness of guilt made even his strong shoulders hunch.
Fuck, what the fuck did he just do?
Barou flicked to your name in his call log, thumb not even hesitating over your name as he went to call you back.
Sorry this number is not available, please call back later.
Never one for caring about social media until this moment he went to yours, still having accessing to it he scanned through going to click the message button, stopping himself when he realised why you deserved better, deserved someone who would give you the time you should have.
seeing your photos of your graduation yesterday and being so wrapped up on his own shit he hadn’t even reached out; he didn’t even remember it. Isagi commented on it, of course he fucking did but Aikueven acknowledged your achievement in the comments, he didn’t know you even knew Aiku.
He locked his phone, throwing it onto his bed and pinching the bridge of his nose to try take away the sting flaring through it, his throat running dry as his vision suddenly blurred.
He cleared his throat, fighting away any progress on that happening he never even cried as a baby!
Perhaps this was for the best, even if it felt wrong.
The feeling would pass with time.
Right?
—0—
You removed Barou on socials, blocking his number and ways to contact until you felt ready to face the music, coming off socials as well to avoid actually seeing anymore posts.
You needed to learn to be selfish now and focus on yourself, start a life without Barou and maybe learn some new things about yourself, pushing yourself out your comfort zone would be the first place to start… after devouring tubs of ice cream and sobbing over titanic on repeat.
Jack could have damn well fit on that door!
You could already hear the lyrics at the back of your mind, ready to messily sing along to Near, far, wherever you are believe that the heart does go on, once more, you open the door, and ou're here in my heart and my heart will go on and on.
Oh it was gonna happen, you were gonna be a mess.
You sat numbly looking at the letter in front of you through blurry tears looking like a blotch of white on your coffee table. You had options to be placed abroad for two year’s experience, you didn’t think your option of Italy would actually get offered, your second choice was England.
You’d got the highest marks and worked your ass off to improve your chances to get your offer, but the idiot Shouei wouldn’t ever know anything about that would he.
Now all you had to do was decide a box to tick.
You were calling Barou to tell him you could accept Italy, that for the first time in your lives you could be together longer than a few weeks at a time, maybe finally move in together.
Once again your life was moving towards him, because of him and it needed to stop.
England might be a refreshing option.
You’re pretty sure Isagi had friends there on another soccer team, Nagi was it?
©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.
#bllk barou#barou shouei#bllk fanfic#bllk smut#blue lock#blue lock nagi#bllk x reader#barou smut#barou x you#barou shouei smut#barou shouei x reader#barou shoei#blue lock barou#barou x reader#nagi seishiro x you#nagi x you#bllk nagi#nagi seishiro x reader
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Illness
Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader
Summary: You hide an illness
If you weren't delirious with a fever and sweating bullets, you would have described this moment as the most embarrassing moment of your life.
The semi-final El Clásico was one of the most important of the season and it was such bad luck that you had fallen ill the week before. It was most likely the flu but you never went to any doctor to get it checked out. Instead, you hunkered down in your apartment and refused to leave until you got better.
Only, you never did get fully better. Your immune system was as strong as a wall of feathers so you just decided to channel your inner Oscar winner and pretend you were fine.
You arrived at training every day after taking enough painkillers to fell an ox and hydrate yourself to the point that you were sure that your bladder had to force itself to grow.
It paid off though because you were part of the squad going to Madrid and you caught up on sleep during the train ride so could keep up your façade all the way up to the match day.
Your head was pounding as you finally stepped onto the pitch about ten minutes after half time, sliding easily into Lucy's position as the ball went back into play.
Thankfully, football was an instinct rather than a conscious thought at this point and even with a banging headache, achy limbs and a blocked nose, you played without much issue.
"Hey," Irene said as you took a little break from running to walk over to the corner that was being set up," You okay? You're slower than usual today."
You fanned yourself with your jersey. "Just a little hot."
She gave you an odd look. "It isn't that hot. You haven't been on the pitch for long."
You gave her a shrug and lied straight to her face," Really? I guess I'm just running warm today." You picked up the pace and slotted yourself between Athenea and Olga.
It was almost slow motion as Salma sent a cross into the box. Olga tried to push you forward and away while Athenea's elbow stabbed you straight in the eye.
You dropped like a brick backwards into Olga, who surprised by your sudden weight, dropped you on the floor. Your head banged painfully against the grass and you groaned.
There was a slight ringing in your ears but you couldn't focus on anything but the desperate churning of your stomach. You squeezed your eyes tight to try to stem the swirling but it just made stars explode behind your eyelids as your face throbbed from Athenea's elbow.
Your stomach bubbled up and you felt a hand on your shoulder.
"Hey, kid, you okay?" It was Irene and she jostled you slightly.
That was what did it and you rolled over onto your stomach just in time to surrender your dinner.
You burst into tears, sobbing into the grass.
"Holy shit, y/n," Mariona said," You're burning up! Are you sick?"
"You're sick?!"
You continued to cry into the grass. With your usual caretaker (Alexia) out of the team for the rest of the month, it meant Irene was in charge of you.
You couldn't decide if you would rather Alexia at this moment.
"Go away," You cried into the grass.
"Can't do that," Ingrid said as she crouched over you," The medics are coming to get you."
You turned your head to look at her.
"She got you good, huh?" Ingrid said, her fingers ghosting over your swollen eye.
"Ingrid," You croaked out," My head hurts."
"I'm sure. That was a nasty fall."
"Hurt before that too."
She made a sympathetic noise as she helped you sit up for the medics to have a proper look at you.
You were escorted straight off when they checked the dilation of your pupils.
Lucy trailed back with you along with Marta, who looked to already be on the phone with Alexia. You knew your caretaker would be watching the match so it wasn't a surprise that she had already called someone the moment you went down.
"Got quite the shiner there," Lucy commented as she inspected your bruised eye," Trying to look like Mapi?"
"At least it isn't bleeding," You said before descending into a coughing fit, thumping at your chest to try and regain your breath.
Lucy laughed but quietened when Marta held the phone out to you. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling you felt when you saw Alexia's contact picture.
You cleared your throat.
"Hola?"
"I knew it!" Alexia declared.
"Know what?" You tried to play dumb even though your whole body protested.
"When I saw you yesterday and you told me you were back to full health! I knew you were lying to me! You're still sick!"
"Barely." Your defence didn't help when you started coughing again.
"You sound horrible," Alexia said bluntly," You're not playing the final. I'll have you benched."
"I'll be benched anyway. I've got a bruise the size of my fucking country on my eye and a concussion, probably."
"We'll have a talk about hiding illness when you get home," Alexia said," And I'll have to leave a message for your captain."
You would have rolled your eyes if it didn't cause a whole new pain to shoot through your skull. Your nose was all blocked up again so the pressure in your head was only mounting. "You're my captain."
"Your national captain."
"Oh, what? You can't tell Leah! She'll go barmy! I'll be lectured for hours!"
"You're being lectured regardless, by me," Alexia said," Now, rest up, drinks lots and I'll see you in a few days."
You didn't even get the chance to watch the end of the match because Marta forced you back to the hotel and into your room.
"No screens," She said when you moved to turn on the tv.
"Well, what else am I meant to do?" You complained, blowing out your nose.
"Well, for one, you can use the bucket on the floor if you feel like you're going to be sick."
"I'm not going to throw up."
"You threw up on the pitch." Marta just had to remind you of the most embarrassing moment of your life and your cheeks flushed red out of embarrassment now instead of your fever.
"But I won't now."
Marta didn't get time to respond because the door to your room got thrown open and Patri sprawled herself next to you on the bed.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," She teased, dumping some chocolate onto your lap.
"Patri," Marta groaned," She's sick and injured. She needs rest."
"She needs company. She's still human. You can't just lock her in her room like she's Rapunzel."
Marta rolled her eyes and swatted at Patri. "She doesn't need you hindering her recovery. Go on, out with you."
"Nah," Patri said as she got comfortable," I think I'll stay here. Besides, y/n wants me to stay."
You sent Marta your most pathetic and sad look.
"Please, Marta?" You begged," I promise she'll help me. It'll be nice to have some company."
Marta sighed deeply. "Fine but just for now. This all might change by the time Alexia gets her."
You groaned and flopped back to lay against your pillows properly. "Don't remind me."
#woso x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femeni x reader#barcelona femeni#barca femeni#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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if i didnt have issues with my sinuses i would be so strong i could lift a bus
#monolith mumbles#But no instead my nose is blocked my head hurts and my face hurts and it is eveil#i am being brave about it (lying)
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Splatoon 3 artbook is coming! and they gave us hi res sample pages! so i translated them!
I’ve already preordered the book, and since I live in Japan I should be getting it very soon after release. mark my words I’m gonna go crazee translating it i need that Lore
In the meantime, some translations of the sample pages! take a look under the cut:
Page 44, IKIMONO (Living things)
yellow text:
Among the living things in the Inkling world, a wide variety of species exist. There are creatures that can take on a humanoid form as well, called "Inklings" and "Octolings", the former being squids, and the latter being octopuses.
white text in gray box:
The old and the new mix to make the Splatland's youth culture
The young people who grew up in Splatsville take pride in being born and raised in the Splatlands, and there is an extremely strong sense of solidarity in the community. They deeply cherish their old local culture, which is unsophisticated and simple, yet strong. At the same time, they like to make fun of urban areas such as Inkopolis for acting like they're "all that". On the other hand, many of them secretly yearn for that sophisticated, high-collar, Inkopolis culture. The current culture of chaos created by the youth with such a flip-flopping mentality is becoming increasingly global.
I’m going to translate these roughly.
character select screen outfit, left: lines pointing to reflective goggles, a mask that blocks dust, and the cape. the cape is made from kelp, and is meant to block out sunlight.
hero suit outfit, right: the “ultra light earpiece” is so light, it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing it. The ink display is a digital screen. Boots are meant for rough terrain. Interestingly, agent 3 is holding a weapon called a “Hero Extinguisher.”
the gear on the left is called “hunting equipment”. The earpiece is based on an udon noodle. It’s small, but it has a deep sound (with bass i assume instead of sounding tinny?)
Around the neck are cooling pads. The shirt is made from a seaweed fabric. apparently its wrapped around their upper body and kind of hurts to wear. you can see their underwear, but its the kind of underwear that’s supposed to be seen for Fashion. idk what its called but you guys know what im talking about.
The ink tank is homemade. in the pouch of the backpack are snacks.
to the right are very early concepts.
Page 62, Deep Cut concepts
It’s a lot of handwritten notes with a lot of pointing out what the drawing is, so I’m going to translate roughly.
bottom left is pointing out various things about frye’s head anatomy. small chin, forehead sticks out, thick neck, head curves like this and this etc.
middle frye with the bit of green and red makeup is described as having a clown-like feel to it. tiny furthest right drawing is commenting on a specific nose shape concept as “bird-like.” she almost had the same nose as my main OCs what the
red arrows on the right: long arms, long thighs, squared shoulders are pretty.
hand in the middle with black text: something like ‘if she has hands with ornamentation like this it makes her hands seem long’
bottom left: the little doodle of the face reads that her ‘mouth is kind of like this.’ the other text talks about how her eyebrows move asymmetrically, as having that kind of variety in the movement is key.
left: she’s saying something about sharks? apparently she was going to be associated with sharks with shiver being associated with eels instead.
right: various sound effects. “looking around absentmindedly” “rocking back and forth” “dozing off.” on the bottom it shows her suddenly stiffening to attention.
left: in her left hand, it’s a sensu (japanese folding fan). in her right, its a harisen (the kind of folding fan used to smack people in slapstick routines)
gonna be real here the text on the right is too cursivey i cant read it
shiver mask designs. neat stuff.
early design concept.
Page 198, Scorch Gorge
not a lot of text on this page, mostly images, have a look yourself.
top right passage:
A majestic canyon where the history of the Inkling world can be seen in the strata and rock formations. Many enjoy rock climbing here. There's a spawn point that was once used for ink battles that no-one has bothered to remove.
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Moll
❥ Choi San x fem reader
SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL
➯a/n: i've been watching waaaaay too much 1920s drama sooooooo (i went way overboard, i feel liek i wrote a movie)
✃ moll; a mobsters girl, circa 1920s
✫彡wordcount: 6.2k
(✯◡✯)(>ᴗ•)genre: 1920s mafia au, plot heavy smut
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of drugs, violence, threatening with a gun(safety was on lol), kidnapping, forced marriage, forced affection, stockholm syndrome, pregnancy, murder(not descriptive at all), NSFW; virginity loss, unprotected (NO DO THAT🫵🏻), possessiveness to the max, breeding kink
not proof read
✩ index: dope; drugs, specifically cocaine or heroin. bent; drunk. bump you off; murder. bearcat; a feisty woman. vamp; an aggressive flirt. flat-tire; a bore. punch the bag; talk. dame, doll, bunny, water-proof; a (attractive) woman. holding a torch; having a crush. get in a lather/ get lathered up; get worked up or angry. skin; condom. get a wiggle on; leave quickly.
⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
"Where's the money?"
"That's all of it! Please, Mister-"
The echoing slap across the room makes you cringe from your hiding place in the pantry. It's nothing new. Your family had been mixed up in all kinds of shenanigans and you had witnessed a great deal of them. But it always hurts when they come back to haunt you.
You cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your scared breath, trying desperately put your mind in a better place. Anywhere but here.
"I gave you more than enough time. Don't you think?"
"Nobodies buying, please Mr. Choi! You have to understand, I tried. I went from corner to corner to corner," your older brother pleads.
He isn't lying either. The drugs that the mafia had provided him to sell- well, they weren't selling. No body had the money. If they did, they only bought the smallest amount and resold it at a higher price.
It wasn't his fault the country was in a depression.
"It- I still have the dope stored away! Just in the back shed, you can have it back! May-maybe someone up North can have better lu-ah!"
A dull thud.
And another.
And another.
A crash. Your brothers body hitting the floor no doubt.
"You gon' tell me how to peddle my own product now? I don't think so! Are you bent? Huh?" His voice gets louder with each insult hurled at your brother. "You skim a little of the top, is that it? I oughta bump you off!"
You can't help the small gasp that exits your shaking lips, and you immediately recognize your mistake as it goes silent in the home. Only your brothers ragged breathing and the thrumming of your anxious heart reaching your ears.
"Mr. Ch-"
"Shut your kisser! Who's here with us?"
"N-Nobody! No! No, no, wait-"
Light floods the small room you've sought safety in, and that false sense of security shatters the second you see the man attached to the threatening voice.
He's a cop.
He's got a badge and a gun and authority. He's supposed to be someone safe. Instead, he's got knuckles blooded with your kin and a smirk on his stubbled face.
His wide shoulders block the light, casting his silhouette over you like a storm cloud.
You've cowered into the corner, skirt pulled over your trembling knees as you scoot further away. Wide eyes looking up at him, silently pleading.
"Why you hidin', vamp?"
"Please, Mr.Choi, she don't know from nothing!"
You glance past the man -Mr.Choi- 's neat slacks, and see your brothers face messed with blood, dripping onto the floor from his nose. He's pulling himself up slowly, kneeling on the hardwood.
"Get up," Mr.Choi nods his head at you, and you immediately follow his order, afraid to test his nerves further. "Help this goof up." You lower your head, slowly approaching the man who stays in the doorway. "Now, we ain't got all day!"
You rush past him and kneel, wrapping your arms under his and pulling him up with a grimace, "c'mon, Bub, get up."
The man watches you heave him up, leaning against the wall with his hand on his hip holster in case you decide to get brave. "Bub's done got you mixed up in something real risky, girl. What do you know?"
"Don't know nothin', Mister. Mind my own." You feign some semblance of calm. You lower your brother onto a chair, and he nearly falls onto the dinner table before you catch his head. "You had to knock him on the head?"
He chuckles, slowly stalking around the room, "don't get mouthy, Bearcat." He takes a seat at the head of the table, pointing to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."
You lower his dizzy head to rest on the table before taking the seat he pointed to, folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head. "I never touched your dope, I don't mess with that."
He slowly places his gun on the table, fingers lingering over it. He studies you- eyes never leaving. "How much of the beans has he spilled to you?"
"I don't know what you mean-"
"Oh, sure."
You look up, and you regret floods your veins. He's sizing you up. Face completely void of emotion. Shoulders slack and relaxed like he isn't ready to shoot you at a moments notice. "Punch the bag, now. Before I shoot off your Bubs knee cap." He cocks his gun.
"Okay! Okay, listen-" you gulp, looking back down, "all he's ever told me is that he gets some products and sells them, gives you the money and you give him a cut. That's it! That's all I know, really. Don't know where you get it or nothin'. I can keep my trap shut."
"You don't go to the corners with him?"
"Nev-"
"If I show your face at the station, nobody gonna recognize you?"
"No," you look up again, "everyone knows I'm a good girl, Officer."
He lets out an amused chuckle, rubbing his brow. "You tugging my leg?"
"No. I'm not a drug peddler. I'm a secretary. I volunteer at the soup kitchen. I babysit-"
Your anxious babbling to get yourself out of your brothers trouble is interrupted when Mr.Choi, suddenly behind you, grips the back of your neck and pushes your head to the table. Your eyes meet your brothers drowsy ones, tears quickly filling up in both. "Please, she's tellin' the truth! I ain't even tell her I was selling till you called last minute! She's innocent!"
"I don't like liars!" He shouts, making you jump under his harsh grip, "I asked you if we were alone the moment I walked in this dump! You're a little sneak, aye? How do I know you didn't hide her to gather intel on me? Get me fired and kicked out? Get yourself a little raise? How do I know she's even your sister? She could be a snake! Tell me the truth, now!"
The cool metal of his gun touches your temple, and the sobs you've been holding back fall out of your lips loudly. "Bub, tell him!"
"Tell me, Bub!" He mocks you, pressing the barrel deeper into the back of your head.
"That's the truth! I sell your dope by myself and she doesn't know nothing about it! Please, she's all I have!" He's growing more and more frantic, head heavy as he lifts it to look Mr.Choi in the eyes, "I'll find a way! I'll go up North myself, I-I'll take a dimebox to Iafeild o-or," he himself is crying now, watching helplessly as he tugs you out of your chair. "Please, she's all I have!"
He pushes you to the floor and watches you scramble, kicking your knees out from under you, albeit gently, it makes you fall face first. He lowers himself in a squat, watching you with a certain amusement you curl up on yourself. "Well why didn't you just say so!" He clips his gun back on his hip and smirks as you both let out a sigh of relief.
Mr.Choi doesn't leave just yet, however.
He straddles your back and flips you over, gripping your chin as it trembles. Pulls your face close to his and inspects you. Your tears wet his fingers. "Hmm, can't blame me for being suspicious. She's water-proof and you," he looks over at the table and chuckles, "well you're just a dog."
He stands and extends his hand for you, rolling his eyes as you ignore it. "Get up, Doll." He groans, pulling you to your feet, "go pack a bag."
"W-"
"She's not goin' with you," your brothers brief bravery is shut down the second the copper reaches for his gun again, "I- I mean why?"
"You," Mr.Choi points to him, "are gonna go to Iafeild and sell all of the shit I gave you like you should have done two months ago. And she," he wraps his arm around your shoulders with a cocky grin, "is gonna be your encouragement to get me my money. If you aren't back with all of it in... three weeks, say? Little sis' here is gonna take the big sleep." He ignores you as you cry harder, simply glaring at your brother. "Capiche?"
He nods frantically, looking away as you look to him with pleading eyes. There's nothing he can do. This is bigger than him. He's got messed up with the wrong crowds and now you have to pay the price as well.
"Put a pep in your step, clock starts tonight."
❦
He opens the car door, watching silently as you peek your head out before your body follows.
You clutch your bag close to your chest, still sniffling and sobbing quietly. Your kitten heels click on the cement, messed curls blowing with the October winds.
"Follow me," he guides you by the small of your back, shockingly gentle with your shaking form. "Don't pull any tricks, Doll." He leads you up the stairs of the secluded farm house, opening up the screen door and ushering you in.
"San, Finally!" A voice booms from inside the home, making you squeak. When you turn to go back out the door, you collide with Mr.Choi, who you gather must be San, 's chest. "Was starting to think- oh! Who's the dame?"
"This," he turns you by your shoulders and tilts your head up to face the man who's descending the stairs, "is Mr. (L/n)'s sister. She's staying for a bit while her brother sorts out some business upstate." You can almost feel his smirk in the way he speaks.
The other man, who's finally come face to face with you, seems a great deal less threatening than San.
"Tsk," he rolls his eyes at San, "sure thing, fella. You just went and found yourself a Moll."
"A Moll? Sure, she's cute but she seems a bit flat-tire, no? Not exactly the type of woman I go for."
"She's exactly the type you go for, you're trying to get her in the bag! Lost bunny is your type."
"Oh, take a hike, Hwa!"
You go back and forth looking at them in confusion as they bicker, hugging your bag to your chest tightly. You don't know what a 'Moll' is but you do know you don't want to be Mr. Chois. You simply tune them out and stare at the floor blanky, tears still flowing.
"If you're not holding a torch, why didn't you kill him like we planned?"
"Well-" His words die on his tongue as he looks over at you. You do look like a lost bunny. Making yourself small between them and letting your tears flow as a defense mechanism. He won't admit it, especially aloud. But you are exactly the woman he's been looking for. "Oh, hell," he pulls a blue handkerchief from his pocket and shoves it into your hand, "stop crying so much. Not gonna hurt you."
Very hard to believe after his threats, but you try your hardest to stop the onslaught of warm tears. You wipe your face with the fabric and sniffle quietly, coming back to your own body as Seonghwa extends his hand slowly.
"I'm Seonghwa, 'can call me Hwa if you like. I'll be lookin' after you when San here is busy. Let's get along well."
You shake his hand gently and croak out a simple, "(Y/n)."
❦
The rest of the day passed quickly, locked up in a bedroom while San and Hwa could still be heard downstairs, which only served to add to your anxieties. It felt as if at any second they would change their mind and come up to bump you off.
You busied yourself doing what San told you to before he locked the door behind him. 'Unpack and get cozy.' Though that latter wasn't as easy as hanging your few dresses in the oak closet and putting your hairbrush in the nightstand, awkwardly placing your products in the corner of the attached bathroom. Especially after you pieced things together.
There was an array of suits and slacks hanging in the closet. Shiny loafers on the floor. A clip of bullets in the nightstand. A roll of condoms. A stash of cash in a duffle bag on the hook behind the door. A pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill. A bottle of cologne that smelled suspiciously like Mr. Chois car.
This was Sans room they had locked you in.
You had long took a seat on the windowsill and dangled your legs out of it, debating how badly it would hurt if you decided to fall and try to make a run for it. You came to the conclusion that it was useless. It took fourty minutes to get here from the city. The last home you passed being 20 of those away.
The lock on the door clinked loudly, and it opened slowly. You turned and looked over your shoulder, and it wasn't a surprise that San was the one you faced.
"Hungry, Doll?" He shuts the door with his foot as he carefully enters with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem alarmed by your hazardous seating choice, probably because he doesn't take you for a fool that will break their ankles trying to jump from the third story.
"No," you mutter, turning back around and facing the setting sun without another word or pleasantry his way.
"Don't let it get cold, I reheated it just for you."
"Too bad. Not hungry."
He comes behind you and rests his palms on either side of your hips, chest pressing to your back as he looks out at natures expanse. "Pretty, ain't it?"
When he doesn't get anything resembling a response, he tries again. "It's my own property. Worked in that barn everyday until I became a cop."
He's met with silence. "Plan to share it with my wife one day."
Nothing. "I know you think I'm a monster but I am just a man."
"A man who had a gun to my head..."
"A man who's just trying to survive a war and a pandemic. You'll get that one day. I don't mean no harm until harm comes for me."
A silence washes over you both for a moment.
"Will you shoot me if my brother doesn't sell all your dope?"
"No."
And again. His soft breath, your anxious ones.
"Then why am I here?"
It's his turn to be silent. He backs away from you and sits on the bed, watching you as you sit still like a statue. You watch the sun disappear like a motion picture of art. A certain peace overcoming you for the briefest moment.
"Because you will be that wife that I share with."
And peace shattered by Choi San once again.
You head snaps in his direction, falling back into the house from the windowsill with a thud. You both stare at one another. San stares with an unreadable expression. Yours of pure horror and confusion. "What?!"
"I'll drop business with your brother for good. Clear all his debt with the boys. Give him all of the cash he gets from this last... adventure. He'll be well off and so will you. I'll make a good, honest woman of you."
"Y-" Yours brain is officially thrown into a panic, an overdrive of emotions, and it all tumbles out before you can stop it. "You have to be off your rocker! You're insane! I already am a good, honest woman! Go chase yourself, I'm not marrying you- you- what? No! No!"
"You 'aven't got much choice in the matter, Doll. Don't get yourself in a lather."
"Don't get- oh, I am lathered up, Mr.Choi! I oughta smack some sense into you, demanding a girls hand in marriage like it's still 1890! It's nineteen-twen-"
He smacks the sense into you before you can to him.
"Oh God," you sob, holding your stinging cheek as tears build up in your waterline. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," you lower your head. Thinking, surely, you just dug your own grave. "Please-"
"This is exactly why I chose you," he crouches in-front of your crumpled form and tilts your head up, "a dame who appears like a lost bunny but has the soul of a beast."
You simply stare up at him, deathly afraid to move or speak in fear of letting your anger and sadness slip again.
"Got somethin' to say?"
You gulp before nodding your head in his hold.
"Go on."
"I don't w-want to marry a mobster... I don't want to be involved with dirty money! A corrupt copper..."
He chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over your untainted cheek. "You should be thanking me, Doll... That dirty money? Been putting a roof over your head for three years. Corrupt copper? Well, he even had the decency to have the safety on his gun while pointing it at your pretty head. Mobster? Willing to put a ring on your finger and give you a nice home."
The tears start free falling as your situation fully sinks in. There really is no way out. You'll end up in the ground if you don't let him put a ring on it.
"So, I'll say it again," he grips the back of your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, "you should be thankin' me."
"T-thank you."
"Attagirl," he lets go of you completely, letting you fall back to the floor, "now eat."
❦
He let you be that night, and you didn't see him the next morning either. It was Seonghwa who came to the door, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or not.
"Hey, Miss," He spoke softly, staying just outside of the doorway. "I heard what happened... I'm sorry."
He seemed genuine enough. You sat down your hairbrush and turned on the small stool. Your eyes puffy and red from the lifetimes worth of crying you did last night.
"Uhm, so San wants us to go to town and pick out some fabrics for your weddin' gown. If you aren't up for it, I can pick them out myself."
"Will he be going with us?"
"No, just you and I."
You were sick and tired of smelling San every time you tried to take a deep breath, and that's how you ended up here.
It's less overwhelming than being in that farmhouse that seems to be your prison for now and for forever to come. But overwhelming nonetheless.
Hwa is talkative. But you don't mind. He treats you well. Like an equal. He doesn't talk down to you like many men do. And that, you very much appreciate.
He tells you of how he feels it's unfair you have no saying in your future, his heart is heavy with sadness that he cannot help you. And he tells that to your face. He will not help you. He is loyal to San. But that doesn't mean you can't be friends.
You seem to share life stories with one another the entire car ride there. And then he already feels like an old friend as he holds up fabrics to your skin to see which compliments you best. You, admittedly, aren't as into it as he is. As much as a bride should be. But then, how could you when you were picking things out for the day that would solidify your future with a mobster?
You both settle on one that, you will admit, made your heart flutter when you imagined yourself in. And then you're on your way, but Seonghwa stops the vehicle halfway through town.
"What are we doing?" You look out of the window and your heart stops in your chest as you see that he's parked infront of the police station. "No, Hwa! You promised I wouldn't have to see him."
"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n)... he said he wanted to see what you picked afterwards. It will be quick."
You take a few deep breaths without San's cologne smothering you, then you swing the door open and follow after Hwa.
Sans broad shoulders aren't hard to pinpoint in the semi-packed station. "Ah, my beautiful fiancée!" He perks up immediately as he spots you and his friend.
What he does next absolutely floors you.
He cups both of your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. Right out in the open. Hot lips on yours.
You grip his wrists, face flushed with heat as he pulls away, bending down slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "Did you pick a pretty fabric for our special day?"
The look in his eyes seems almost innocent from far away. He's already got everyone in the room convinced that you're a willing participant of this relationship. But you, up close and personal, can see the glint of silent threats in his eyes- telling you to keep up the act or face the consequences.
"Uhm, uh-huh," you move slight to the side and look to Hwa, who's head is down slightly for a spilt second before he smiles at you and San and holds out the roll of fabric.
"Oh, Doll, what a good choice! No doubt you will look jaw-dropping," he runs his fingers over the fabric, imaging the pure beauty that you will be. "You'll make it extra good, right, Hwa? Only the best for my girl."
" 'Course, San. We're gonna work on some sketches when we get home." His smile is genuine, like he looks forward to it.
"Officer Choi! Hate to interrupt but we got a hold-em-up at the bank," another officer passes in a hurry, stopping briefly to congratulate you both.
"Ah," he clicks his tongue, rubbing his hands on your side gently, "wish me luck?"
"Good luck..." He looks like he's waiting for more. You gulp and force a smile, almost gagging on the words you conjure up, "good luck, Baby."
❦
The days after that first one passed almost like groundhog day. You awoke with San nearly laid ontop of you. Bathed and made breakfast. Worked with Hwa on your gown until it was completed. Walked around the farm and conversed with the farm-hand. Cooked and had a semi-awkward dinner with the three of them. Talked and became closer with San, slowly becoming happier with your situation.
And then all too suddenly...
It's two days short of three weeks since you've been 'brought home', as San likes to say. Which means one very big thing.
You are to be married.
It's a small affair, but beautiful nonetheless.
You can quickly tell that only one side of San's life is invited. There is not a badge to be seen as you peer out of the window, only gangster after gangster taking their seat.
Hwa finishes buttoning up your gown and steps back, smiling at you like a proud family member. "Ready, Miss?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Hwa walks you down the aisle.
And then it's a blur.
How did your get back in your bedroom? Was the ceremony already over?
It seems to have happened in a flash.
You stand infront of the window again. All of the guests have either left or have taken up in one of the many guest rooms in the home. San no doubt offered them up so that he could have witness to what was about to happen.
Your wedding night. Oh, how special and magical a day.
San slides his hands up your back, landing on your tall collar and skillfully unbuttoning it. Slowly, almost teasingly. His words send a shiver down your spine, they set your hairs on edge: "you are so beautiful, my Dear... it took everything in me not to take you right there in the aisle. I've never wanted anyone, or anything, as badly as I want you."
Your breath hitches in your throat as his soft lips come in contact with your now exposed neck. It not the first time he's left adoring kisses on your body. But somehow it feels different as husband and wife. "San..."
"Yes, Doll?"
"I... I'm a virgin."
"I know, Doll. Tell me to stop and I shall, but... I want to make you feel good like only a husband can. I want to show you my love in physical form." His hands slide into the now open back of your dress, around to your breasts. "Only I can touch you. Only you can touch me. Do you understand that?"
A breathless 'yes' trembles out of your lips as he cups your bosom. The little moan that follows has his hard member throbbing, so ready to finally claim you. He presses it to the round of your ass, and you have to hold back a gasp, simply letting your mouth gape as you look out at the dark night sky. But when his calloused finger tips roll over your hardened nipples, you can't bite back the curse of pleasure that bubbles in your throat.
"Oh, you poor bunny," he whispers in your ear, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." The warmth of him slowly dissipates, and the tell-tale sound of the stool in the room dragging on the floor makes you turn around. "Drop your gown, let me see my wife in her full glory."
Heat burns on your cheeks, of embarrassment or arousal you can't quite tell at the moment. He's shed his fanciest uniform jacket and is now working on his button up, his cock straining against his slacks.
"You ever seen a man's prick?" He smirks as he catches you staring. Your eyes don't leave his lap as you take off your white kitten heels. That is, until he calls you out.
"No," your eyes drop to the ground as you neatly arrange your shoes, "never..."
"Mine will be the first? Mm, first and only," he half hazardly tosses his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Scars and toned muscle on full display for you. "Catch up, Dollface."
You step out of your gown carefully, holding it to your chest to hide yourself. "What if I'm not... pretty enough?"
"Oh, my wife can't possibly disappoint. I've seen that silhouette while you shower." He tilts his head and smiles, a soft smile. "You'll be my first as well."
You swear your eyes have bugged out of your head the way he chuckles at your expression. "Really?"
He stands, gently unraveling your fingers tight grip on the white fabrics. "Really, and I don't want to wait any longer. I want it to be with you. It will be with you." You let him take the fabric, and he drapes it on the stool carefully without ever taking his eyes off of you.
"W-what about the skins in our drawer?"
"So I don't make a mess while I fuck myself thinking about all of the dirty things I want to do with my wife."
"Oh-" You swear you're running a fever. You've never felt this way before- but then, you imagine you'll be feeling many firsts tonight.
"Would you like to hear about them?" He grins, his signature shit-eating-grin, as he guides your hands to his belt. You fiddle with it with a small nod, slowly pulling it off of him as he speaks. "I've got you laid down on our bed, legs spread..." You unbutton his slacks. "Touching, exploring what's mine." His zipper is undone next. "I take my time, make you nice and wet." His bottoms are gone. "I hold your hands." His boxers go after them. "And then I fuck you on my cock."
And he did exactly that. That's how you got here.
Hours of teasing later, his member is finally buried inside of you, stretching you like your fingers never could. He interlocks his fingers with yours as his hips withdrawn. Squeezes your hands tightly as he slowly sinks back in.
"Oh God," you whisper, heels digging into the mattress as you arch beneath his built frame, "ah, Sannie."
His hips stutter, mind overheating as the nickname reaches him. You feel... oh, you feel amazing. Like heaven on Earth. Your gummy, warm walls suck him in, so wet and inviting. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. "Fuck, Bunny, you feel fucking godly."
Only a moan is his response, your head tossed to the side in embarrassment. "D-don't stop," you pant, squeezing his hands tighter as you gather the courage to- "please go faster." Oh, nevermind. Your mind has left and only your pussy's logic remains. And it's logic is- "Sannie, faster!"
His thick, veiny shaft feels otherworldly as it drags against you. You need more. And he is happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, keeping his strokes languid and tender so as not to hurt you. But by God, he goes faster.
"Ah! Ah, my God!" You cry into the night, uncaring as your pleasure echoes in the houses thin walls.
Your noises, your facial expressions, your divine warmth around him. San feels that familiar coil tighten quickly, winding up. "Fuck, (Y/n), I'm gonna bust," he bites his lip, a loud moan vibrating his chest.
"C-close, I'm close, Sannie," you squeeze his fingers in yours, looking up beggingly, "please don't stop, ah- ah! Just like that! Nngh!" Your eyes roll back into your head, cunt clenching down on him like a vice, a gush of heat tells him you've just came around him, so he no longer holds back.
He hooks one of his legs around yours and pushes himself deeper than before, making you yell out in overstimulated ecstasy. And that primal yelp as he buries himself as deep as possible sends him over the edge, coil in his gut not only snapping- but burning to ash as he fills your womb with his release. "Fuck, fuck," he whines, rutting into you unable to move as your core clenches more than ever, refusing to let him go. "Mine," he growls out, leaning down and colliding his lips with yours passionately.
Your body goes limp beneath him, your soft breaths fanning against his sweaty face as he pulls away from the kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and your jelly like arms wrap around his broad shoulders. "Mine, all fuckin' mine," he lowers his weight onto you slowly, and it makes his hard cock feel heavier than before. He ignores your whiny moans, resting his head on your chest. "My wife, filled with my seed. Mine, mine, mine," with each of his possessive proclamations comes a thrust of his hips. "Say it, say you're mine."
"I'm yours," you whimper under his weight, blissed out beyond belief and in shock that -despite having filled you less than five minutes ago- he is already rock hard again and thrusting into you, slowly building his speed back up.
"Louder," he demands, head pressed firmly to your chest and listening intently to your drumming heart beat.
"I'm yours," you speak more confidently.
"Louder," his pace has passed where you reached before, he's nearly drilling you with his cock.
"Ah! Fuck!" You screech, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his wildly thrusting hips instinctively.
"Say it," his voice rumbles on your chest, sending vibrations through you as his thrust shake the bed, "fucking say it, tell everyone who you belong to."
"I'm yours, San! Oh! San! Sannie! Baby!" Your brain has shut down, you're putty in his arms, babbling loudly. "Cumming!" You can't help but announce it to the farm, your pleasure has set you ablaze and everything is pointless besides San.
He follows shortly after, his second release flooding your stretched walls and pushing his first out, making a mess of your sheets and pelvises.
When he doesn't show any sign of slowing, you slap his shoulders repeatedly and let out a loud whine. He stills deep inside of you and pants into your chest, cock still throbbing inside of you.
He's become insatiable.
"Break, please," you slur, hands finding purchase in his disheveled hair. He melts into the drunken affection, eyes peering up at you with love and adoration... obsession in the comfort of your own home.
He slowly pulls out of you, watching in awe as the pearly white of his love seeps out of you. He rubs your thighs in a soothing manner, taking a moment to catch his own breath.
"D...do you feel good?" He looks up, almost like a lost puppy. You've never seen him so vulnerable.
"God, yes," you smile at him dopily, propping yourself up on your elbows with a groan. He sits back, immediately locking his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His scent blankets you, and you welcome it. Taking a deep breath.
His member is messy with a mix of your juices, resting against your lower belly like it knows that's where it belongs. Showing you both how deep he reaches.
The sight alone lights the fire in you again, now just as insatiable as he is.
"I love you." The words that slip past your swollen lips shock the both of you, eyes meeting in an instant.
The crickets outside chirp their song, stars and moon casting light through the window. A shooting star flies by.
"I love you."
❦
There's a knock at the door. Strange. Anyone who needs in can get in. You trot down the stairs and stop halfway as your eyes meet your brothers through the screen door. "Bub?" You nearly trip over your feet as you jump down the rest of the steps, slinging the door open and wrapping your arms around him tightly. It been long past those three weeks San have him. Almost a year past.
"Bub! Bubby!" He spins you around in his arms, nearly falling off of the porch.
"Oh, thank God! You're alive!" Both of you have wide smiles, blissfully unaware as San turns the corner in his farming overalls. "Let's get a wiggle on, before Mr.Choi knows I'm here." San stops in his tracks, eyes trained on you.
"Oh... Bub."
"Let's get, c'mon." He goes to drag you by your arm to the awaiting car.
"Stop! I'm not going with you."
A smirk grows on Sans as a frown grows on your brothers. "N-not going? Don't be silly!"
"Let go of me," you slap his hand away and when your hand falls back to your side, that's when he sees it.
Your belly. Swollen with child.
"(Y/n)..."
You wrap your hands around your stomach protectively as his concerned look turns to a glare. "D-did he rape you? Dear Lord," his hand flies to his mouth in shock.
"What!? No, no, nothing of the sort. San and-"
"Hurry, before he gets back."
"Before who gets back?" San grins wide as he joins your side, wrapping his arm around you and purposefully showing off the ring on his finger. "Long time, no see... Bub."
His face so that of a ghost, backing away until he hits Hwa, who forces him to kneel.
"You really left your poor helpless sister for dead?" The words that San speaks knocks the reality back into you. He did leave you. You'd been so happy with your new life that you'd forgotten entirely about what lead up to it. "I doubt you've even got my cash, huh?"
"Mister, please! Surely you've forgiven me?"
"I don't hold grudges... my wife is a different story, however." He turns to you with an innocent smile. "Honey?"
"Sissy... Tell me you didn't."
"I did." You dead pan. "You left me!" You land a slap harshly across his cheek. "Bastard!"
"Alright, Miss, don't put too much stress on the baby-" Hwa tries to calm you, but you've already gone off the deep end after being reminded of your life before San.
"I hate you!! You left me all alone! You threw me to the wolves! Where were you?!"
"Sis, just- just come home, you aren't thinking straight."
The cicada chirp loudly, nearly drowning out your next words.
"This is home. This is all I have. This is all I want."
"Sis, what has he-" Tears are welling up in your brothers eyes. And it pisses you off.
"I hate you! I never want to see you again, I hate your coward guts!"
San squeezes your shoulder gently and it brings you back to reality. Your brother is shaking as all of the realizations come crashing down on him. Hwa knows what's about to happen, he and San have talked about it a million times. He takes the gun from his belt and hands it over.
"My Moll has spoken."
Bang.
❦
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez au#ateez fic#choi san smau#choi san x reader#choi san#choi san smut#smut fic
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Enemies to lovers Adam x f!reader?
Enemies to Lovers
Adam X Reader
A/N: I shed blood, sweat and tears making this. SORRY IF ITS OOC this is my first real fic Adam is a PAIN to write.
You were never really able to get along with Adam. From the moment Adam arrived in heaven, the two of you were always at each other's throats.
Adam would always pick fights over the smallest things, and it was always enough to make you bite back. There wasn't a single day that he couldn't get under your skin and make fun of you. Calling you names, competing with you, and just being a general pain in your ass.
Today was the day of the first-second extermination of the year.
Adam was off giving his soldiers a 'pep talk', but before he flew off to this hazbin hotel, he came to you first.
As always, he made sure to get his daily insults in before he left, tearing into you with his words, ensuring you knew just how inferior and pathetic he deemed you. His snarky and playful tone only served to aggravate you further. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you snapped back, 'Oh, shut up! I hope you never return, Adam!' His initial shock quickly gave way to a smug grin. 'Calm your pretty little head, babe,' he retorted, his arrogance undeterred as he continued to prattle on about himself."
You weren't even listening; His annoying voice was easy to block out.
“plus I know you’ll miss me, I fuckin’ rock, I’m THE Adam” he pointed to himself keeping that stupid shit eating smile he always had, god you wanted to punch him so bad but couldn't, as you feared you would get sent to hell so you slammed the door in his face instead.
Later that night, you were sitting on your heavenly comfy couch, enjoying the latest episodes of your favorite shows. You were just about to fall asleep when a frantic knock jolted you from the cushions. With a tinge of fear, you approached the door, thinking, 'This is heaven; this couldn’t be bad, right?' As you opened the door and peeked out, you were shocked to see Adam, but he was far from his usual self. Covered in golden blood and bearing multiple stab wounds, he looked as though he had been through hell. (Lol) Without hesitation, you flung the door open, calling out, 'Adam!' before he collapsed on your doorstep.
It had been a while since you found Adam. Earlier, you had managed to drag him to your couch. As you attempted to patch him up, you discovered several more wounds scattered across his body. Shocked by the extent of his injuries, you couldn't help but wonder who could have inflicted such damage.
hours have passed since the surprise at your doorstep. You had fallen asleep on the floor beside him. When you woke up, he had yet to awaken, Panic gripped your heart as you reached out to shake him gently, wondering if he had actually died in his sleep. (double dead) You placed your finger beneath his nose, relieved to feel the subtle rise and fall of his breath. 'Why do I even care so much...' you pondered, a mix of emotions swirling within you.
More hours had passed, and as you were making lunch for yourself, you heard him make a sound. Turning around, you saw that he had finally woken up. “What the fuck am I doing here?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. “You came to me, Adam. You're hurt.” Upon hearing your words, he winced and attempted to sit up, but a wave of pain washed over him, causing him to groan. Reacting quickly, you rushed to his side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to ease him back down. 'Lay down, Adam,' you said softly, concern evident in your voice. “You're going to make it worse if you push yourself too hard.” Adam groaned with displeasure as you stood up and started walking back to the kitchen. However, something he said made you stop in your tracks.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” You froze in surprise. 'What?' Slowly, you turned to him, a shocked expression on your face. “Excuse me? How hard did you hit your head?”
You stood there in silence as he just stared at you “… I’m just fucking with you… dumb b-bitch…” he looked away in embarrassment, you stared at him with a shocked look ‘doesn’t sound like was a joke..’
“I can do it myself!” He argued.
"If you move, you'll probably explode or die. Stop it!" You were trying your best to care for him these past few days, but he's just such a pain in the ass. Currently, you were trying to feed him, but he kept turning his head away, stubborn as ever. Fed up with his behavior and the frustration boiling inside you, you finally snapped. With determination, you grabbed hold of his head, locking eyes with him. "Just eat it, damn it!" you exclaimed, frustration evident in your voice as you forcefully shoved the spoon into his mouth. Finally, he relented and ate it, although begrudgingly.
“I’d rather you shove your-“
“Shut the fuck up”
“Moody Bitch…”
You scoffed at his remarks, striding over to him and motioning for him to sit up, to which he obliges. "Take your shirt off," you instruct. He smirks in response. "Don't give me that look; you know what I mean." His smirk fades into annoyance as he complies with your request. Gently removing his bandages required getting close, and you carefully unwrap them before swiftly replacing them with fresh ones, wrapping them around his body with precision and care.
"You look really pretty down there" he grins at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration. You blush in response, feeling a warm flush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected compliment.
Wanna know a secret?" He said, catching your attention. You looked at him with a confused expression, but slowly nodded, curiosity piqued.
"you know I live alone right now? No one's going to—" Your words were cut off as you felt his hand grasp your face, Before you could react, his lips met yours in a sudden, electrifying kiss, sending a rush of warmth through your body.
Adam pulled away, leaving you stunned and bewildered by the sudden rush of conflicting emotions.
"You make it so damn difficult to hate you," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration and a hint of something deeper, something you couldn't quite decipher. As you stood there, grappling with the unexpected confession, you realized that perhaps there was more to your relationship than just rivalry. With a mixture of uncertainty and expanding hope, you met his gaze, silently acknowledging the unspoken possibility of a new beginning between two former enemies turned potential lovers.
This was so hard goodbye. It’s so OOC I’m soo sorry I tried to rush the end to put this out faster 😭
#adam x reader#adam x reader hazbin#hazbin#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#helluva boss#hazbin adam x reader#adam hazbin hotel#adam x reader hazbin hotel
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Can you do a story where the reader died? And sukuna’s reaction
As Jesus once said “Someone has touched me”
In this case, I was working on “Sealed” when I got hit with this. I refuse to be moved until I finish this ask There's another question similar to it and I wanna do it also but I was inspired after reading an article on a man whose wife died. I was moved, inspired! My heart ached and for that we all need to ache 😔🤍
Inside the temple Sukuna had built himself for your family, it took him years to perfect every room, every arch, every window until he was pleased to bring you here. It was a flat mountain top he had carved using his own technique, it was beautiful, secluded. Far away from the dangers of humans and sorcerers, you had finally convinced him, your soft voice, laying on his chest in the middle of a summer night. Fingers pulling at his robes in a nervous fidget, his arm tucked behind his head the other wrapped around you. One foot hanging off the hammock pushing you both back and forth when you spoke up “Ryomen… what would you say if I said I want to move away from here, from the village, to someone where no one can bother us.” You sat up looking down at him with a smile, his face was straight but his eyes were amused following you, “we could start a family far far away so no one could ever hurt them! We could have a son or a daughter! Or two boys or two girls, or one of each, or if you want three or four I wouldn’t mind but…” you looked around before you looked at him feeling his hand on your side, thumb rubbing slowly against your side, you smiled at him “ I just want a family with you, I life with you.” He closed his eyes letting his head fall back against the cushions you’d brought earlier, “I’ll see what I can do.”
————-
It wasn’t long after Sukuna was levelling a city for pure enjoyment, that he saw a ridge of mountains. He thought of you, coming home to you to tell you that he found the perfect place for you to have your silly little family… he stopped his attack on the city waltzing over to the ridge, he spent weeks away from you, away from his home to perfect the biggest mountain behind the ridge. Levelling it, carving out land to give you a little stream he knew you’d love. Pulling together everything, making the survivors of the village work for their lives bringing him the material to build a home for you. Every time he came home to you he never let a world slip of his endeavours instead he’d hold you close listening to the things you’d done in his absence. Finally months had passed and he woke you up early one morning taking you with him on what he called a very special day. You assumed he would be conquering another city and that he just wanted you by his side. Yawing you leaned against him wanting to just sleep where you stood. Sukuna rolled his eyes supporting your weight before he picked you up entirely, “‘m tired kuna.” He held you tighter against his chest, “I know, we’ll get there soon.”
It was early afternoon when Sukuna made it to your new home. Uraume was behind both of you, Sukuna tried to wake you up only for you to bury your face into his chest. He hummed amused, bouncing you in his arms, “y/n, get up or I’ll drop you.” You groaned trying to get out his grip, he let your legs drop supporting your back as you steadied yourself. Looking up you were blinded by the sunlight, holding up your hand you tried to block out the sun. Sukuna moved you into the shadows and you saw it, the big wooden doors and the white marble walls and pillars. You moved closer up the stairs touching the door pushing it open. You turned around, the big smile on your face and your teary eyes led you to run at Sukuna and jump into his arms. He held you against him letting you cry against his chest and neck, “Ryomen” he was confused why you were crying so loudly. But he held you rubbing his hand on your back. “Ryo…” your whispered cries against his skin made him hold you tighter. He tilted his head pressing his nose to the top of your head, “What’s wrong princess?”
“I need to tell you something,” you let your hands slide down his chest when you slipped from his hold. He held your face in his hands looking down at you, his eyes were searching yours for anything before he leaned in closer his lips ghosting yours, “Tell me.” You did your best to smile “I’m pregnant.” Your smile dropped when you saw the way he looked at you, eyes wide and his mouth was open just slightly, his forehead met yours and he closed his eyes. His hands slid down to your sides, he squeezed you slightly, you brought your hands up to his face wiping the stray tears away with your thumbs, you laughed lightly “Ryo…”
————-
“Y/n, cmon.” Sukuna tried to pull you out of bed, your body was weak as you tried your best to get up. Sukuna ended up dragging you with him to get you into a chair. He was scared shitless, ever since the bump in your stomach started to show you looked pale, weak. You couldn’t walk on your own and you slept more.
He’d take you out to the sun to sit in the grass by the stream. Your trembling fingers picking flowers talking to Sukuna about how you couldn’t wait for your child to see these beautiful flowers. Your tears had found a permanent place in your eyes, never falling but always present. Leaning against him, you never saw how he’d dig his hand into the dirt trying to get a grip of life, his reverse cursed technique no matter how often he tried to help it never really helped. You didn't need Jujutsu healing, you needed human help.
He felt hopeless but he decided even if he had to hand carry you over those mountains he would do it. That night he bundled you up in a blanket laying you on the bed. He told Uraume to pack anything they would need, that night when you were asleep he picked you up bridal style the way he carried you into your house he carried you out. He held you close, never letting you shake, making sure you never felt cold. He did his best taking a worn path that went around the mountain ridges. It would be days before you made it to the city, but he held on tight, looking at your face, how your eyes would just barely open to see him, that faint smile on your lips, the tears in your eyes finally falling. When you told him you were sorry, he was enraged it wasn’t your fault, his throat was tight and he fought back the tears in his eyes. Chest shaking when you fell asleep that night in his arms, he refused to rest pushing forward for the third day. It was sunrise when he found an opening by a river, he settled down helping you sit on a large flat stone. Your hand came up to touch his face, he closed his eyes feeling your cold fingers rub the dark circles under his eyes. He brushed the back of his hand over your cheek before brushing stray hairs back out of your face. He dropped to his knees pressing his head against your stomach, he could still hear the heartbeat. You guided his face up, kissing him and telling him, “You’ll be okay Sukuna, let’s just go for a short walk please.”
He helped you up, both of you moving slowly up the beaten path to the top of a hill. There was a willow tree and stone around Sukuna’s height at a pool of water that trickled down the hill side. You moved closer to it, “look you can see our home from here.” You leaned against him and he held you tight in his side, “Our home.” His chest had that same ache and sickness when your breathing evened out and eventually stopped. He slowly felt your bodily slipping in his hold, the tears forming in his eyes as he slumped to the ground holding your body. You were just coming near 4 months, there was no doubt in his mind it wouldn’t make it even if he had the heart to pull him out. He slowly folded over, hugging your body while he trembled. His eyes were forced closed, jaw clenched and tears started to fall, he started to scream, a raw horrifying scream that scratched his throat and vocal cords. His nails pressed into your skin when he took in air and let out another scream Uraume was standing a ways off head bowed, his open eyes staring at the ground, Sukuna was emitting emotions of distress so strongly he could feel them resonating inside himself. His Lord's screams were desperate, full of angst and rage. He watched how his Lord’s face changed, how the cursed presence around him became far more intense. He watched Sukuna lay your body down carefully tucking your hair away. His hand running over your stomach, that was the last time he ever saw Lord Sukuna look at any woman without malice, without annoyance, without intent to kill.
He watched as lord Sukuna was quick to take his anger out on the mountain ridges that separated you from the city, IT SEPARATED YOU FROM THE CITY, IT WAS THAT DAMN HOUSE HE BUILT ON THAT MOUNTAIN IT WAS THE FAMILY YOU WANTED IT WAS HIS CHILD THAT KILLED YOU IT WAS HIS HANDS THAT BROUGHT YOU YO YOUR END IN THE END
He was screaming and tearing the world to its core, he levelled the city that night he levelled the entire mountain ridge. The beauty of this forsaken land wouldn’t be allowed to exist if it took your life. The land was left in shambles and the city was in fear they would be next when they saw his hulking figure standing on the hill where he left your body staring down at them. It was an elderly woman who tried to approach before Uraume stepped in threatening to end her for getting too close. She saw how Sukuna held your body against him, your stomach bump was evident in your robes. He sat back against the stone, the old lady didn’t leave. She watched how Sukuna cradled you, a hand never leaving your stomach, he looked dead, he was tired, his hands were bleeding.
“It happens all the time, people die travelling to get around those mountains looking for some form of help. There is no consolation for death, you’ll only ever mourn when you think of her young man. But if you do love her, remember her in every instance even if it brings you pain. You don’t know this but in one day you’ll have managed to save more generations to come by levelling those forsaken mountains. What’s beauty at the price of death?”
Sukuna never looked at her, he sighed. He sat there for days. Sending Uraume in his way to the temple, the old lady never returned. He buried you under that willow tree. And he carved your figure into that stone opening the water way so the trickled became a waterfall, in your stone arms he made sure there was a bundle hugged to your chest. He stood under that tree the droplets of water running down his face from the vines mixing in with the tears that fell from his face, void of emotion he truly had nothing left. He went without eating, every time Uraume would urge him to head he’d say he wouldn’t eat without you he’d rather starve. Inside your broken him he sat in the same chair slouched staring at the fireplace in your shared room. His fingertips tingling at the memory of tracing your skin when you’d sit on his lap hugging him whispering your plans to the future. When he walked the cold halls he saw everything you’d used to decorate. The wilted Sakura branches you put in a vase long ago now dry twigs in vases. The flowers outside being overtaken by weeds, it made him sick seeing the nursery you had persistently decorated even in your frail state.
He never starved to death because that day he had become a full fledged curse he ripped out his heart burying it in your chest when he buried you. You were the holder of his heart, the only, and you would only ever be the only one.
————-
Centuries had passed when Sukuna found himself reincarnated in the iconic teenage boy Yuji Itadori. He materialised on his cheek to insult the boy for stating a young woman for too long. “Hey brat do you really think staring a woman like that…” until he saw her, his voice went quiet. Eyes wide mouth agape, if we’re in control he’d have run over to see if it was you. It was almost an exact copy of you, that same damn smile that made him slip into madness all those years ago, those eyes that held a light even in death. But her scent, there was a hint of your sweet scent but it was almost non existent, she had to be a descendant of your family. Aside from that hint she smelled putrid like every other human. Every memory of the years you spent with him, he thought to himself ‘she reminds me of better times when you were alive…’ he quickly disappeared from Itadori's cheek, leaving the boy puzzled. There he sat on his throne, slumped, head resting against his fist, one leg kicked out the other resting normally. His face was void of emotion, except for the single tear his free hand caught with his pointed nail, “After all this time it’s you who haunts me hm?” He let out a dry laugh, the stray tear clinging to the tip of his nail, watching before it dropped over his chest where he had so brutally ripped out his own heart.
Permanent! Tags: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @dolliira @ilovemybabies378
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𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨
❝secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought; maybe i just wanna be yours.❞
♡ gojo satoru ♡
a/n: writing another gojo smut since the last one i wrote of him flopped. 😞💔
reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3
(also, a lot of you have been dming me and it's honestly so sweet, shoot me a message anytime :D)
content: gojo satoru x fem!reader, reader is extremely horny lol (hypersexual??), sassy gojo (he's a little dick sometimes), fluff, smut, best friends to lovers, not edited.
...
"well, you look like shit." gojo snorted, entering your dorm room as you woke up from your short-lived night's sleep. you let out a yawn, doing that weird whole body shaking thing before sitting up; rubbing your eyes to see your best friend more clearly.
he looked equally worse as you, dark eye bags, chapped lips, arms crossed over his chest along with a scowl painted on his lips.
"thanks, you don't look any less shitty yourself." you snickered, leaning against the headboard as you watched him roll his eyes before making his way towards your bed; sitting on the edge.
"i wonder why." the white haired male grumbled, a small glare thrown at your direction.
"hmm? i don't know what you're talking about." you innocently batted your eyes, making him narrow his eyes.
"i would've been done studying by two in the morning if you would've stopped blowing up my phone every two seconds about how roughly fucking me would help you memorize the formulas better." gojo complained, making you bite back a laugh.
"well, you could've just go on dnd or block me." you shrugged, indirectly calling him a dumbass.
"you threatened to kill yourself if i did that."
"oh."
"anyways, what time did you stop studying and hit the lights?" gojo changed the topic, examining your tired face.
"i don't know, i think five-thirty?" you tried to think hard, but, recently all these nights where you pulled all-nighters have been a blur.
"not bad, i slept around that time too." he sighed, rubbing his temples while wincing in pain.
"hurts?" you asked, hearing him hum in response.
"yeah, i took painkillers before getting here but it's not really helping." gojo groaned before looking at you through half-lidded eyes, his words making you pout.
"well, i can't really help you with that. but, i can offer you some mind-blowing head instead." a smirk tugged on your lips as you threw a wink at him, making gojo look at you with an unamused look.
"this fucking early in the morning too? god, it's barely seven in the morning." he stared at you in disbelief, making you chuckle.
"jeez, i'm kidding. no need to act like you got a stick up your ass all the time." you stretched, while gojo scrolled on his phone through social media along with his emails.
"you gonna do final revisions on the way to campus?" he asked you with curious eyes, making you let out a hysteric laugh.
"fuck no, i stayed up till five something reading and writing notes until my fingers went numb. i couldn't even fuck myself to sleep because of the pain." you casually answered, making gojo's nose scrunch up in distaste.
"fucking hell, y/n, you're filthy." gojo commented, making you laugh before you crawled towards him, sitting on his lap as you pinched his cheeks.
"but you love me." you cooed, squishing his cheeks into a pout as he let you. gojo's arms instinctively were wrapped around your waist to make sure that you don't fall and crack your head open.
"unfortunately." he sighed.
this is how it has always been for you and gojo, his inevitable torture starting from when you both were in diapers. both of your families were extremely close, your mother being high school besties with his mom.
of course, both women decided to continue this legacy by making sure that their children grew up together. so, you've been stuck to gojo by the hip.
gojo's family was extremely wealthy, like filthy rich. his father owned one of the biggest company in all of japan. your parents, however, owned a humble sushi place in kyoto.
nonetheless, gojo never looked down on you or treated you like you were some ant that could be stepped on. he was like your protective shadow, scolding you when you acted out, being there to comfort you when you were down or struggling, and he dealt with all your stupid jokes.
as you both grew older, puberty hit like a truck.
no, not even a truck; like a fucking tsunami.
your body matured and your hormones went absolutely wild. you don't know what the hell happened, but you craved for sexual pleasure so often. after discovering the magic of masturbation, you did the act almost religiously.
your jokes were pure filth, full of suggestive language. it was like the only thing that circled your mind was dick, dick, dick, sex, sex, cum, cum.
no, quite literally.
you were horny almost 24/7 for some unknown reason.
oh, and you were still a virgin. yeah, shocking.
your situation wasn't helped after realizing how fucking hot your best friend became either. gojo began to hit the gym, basically turning into a gym rat in high school as you accompanied him after school every day before heading home together. he became beefy and so fucking tall, nearly 6'4ft.
no wonder why girls in high school chased him like he was the jackpot. well, they still do now that you both attended college.
though he was a pretty face, gojo was smart as hell. well, the both of you are; it was kinda like a mutual academic rivalry you both had. of course, it was all for shits and giggles.
he was a math nerd, meanwhile, you hated the subject with a burning passion. you liked english better, as your reading and writing skills were beyond talented. so, you and gojo made a fair deal, he'd help you with your math homework while you'd help him with english.
sometimes you both would do each others homework when it was time to cram study for other subjects. the subject you both have a common liking towards was science.
people sometimes mistakenly thought that you and the snow haired male were a couple. the truth is, you both were just super close best friends. gojo got used to your dirty jokes and remarks, no longer affected by them, as it was like common language for him now.
"can you eat the damn banana like a normal person for once?"
"why? you wish i was deepthroating the banana in your pants instead?"
"y/n, which outfit looks better? the first or second one?"
"neither, stay naked and let me smash, pleaseee."
"oh my god!! you look so handsome satoru, i'm literally gonna cum on your face."
"look at you wearing that tight black compression shirt, you slut!"
"put on a shirt and cover those tits before i suck them, toru!"
"y/n, i'm at that one plushie store downtown and there's like a bunch of sanrio shit. imma get that one hello kitty headband you were looking last night for you."
"oh my god?? hello, what the fuck, i'm literally gonna let you say hello to my kitty, toru. ugh, i love you so much."
"do you need help on doing your sit-ups? i could hold your legs down."
"yeah, but don't come too close or else my pussy is gonna start pulsating your name in morse code."
"i don't know what to get you for christmas, y/n."
"how about you lathered up in coconut oil and wrapped in a cute pink coqutte bow under my tree?"
"you horny fuck, oh my god."
"you idiot! i don't care if they taste bad, i told you to suck on those cough drops to help you soothe your throat."
"but i'd rather suck your balls, satoru."
"for the love of god, seek therapy."
"sex therapy with you?"
"you gonna stay on me forever or get ready for class before we're late for our last final exam?" gojo playfully pinched your side, making you yelp as you rubbed the site.
"jerk, i was thinking about how this is the perfect position for me to cockwarm you." you said, earning a flick to the forehead.
"you got ten minutes or i'm leaving you." gojo ignored your whines, standing up with you still clung onto him like a koala.
"satoruuu, i don't wanna go! they're gonna brutally torture me for the next hour based on organic chemistry." you dramatically cried into the crook of his neck.
"the school is gonna kick us out if we don't take this exam, y/n. it's worth like sixty-five percent of our final semester grade. besides, we both studied hard for this. you'll be okay." he rubbed your back comfortingly, making you pull away with a huff.
"you have enough money to buy the entire university, satoru."
"my dad is gonna burn me alive, y/n."
"okay, fine! i have a better solution. how about we start an onlyfans? you know, we both could occasionally do solos or you know... fuck each other too! like-"
"no."
"satoru!! hear me out." you tried to reason, but gojo knew it was all bluffing and you just wanted to stall. so, he forced you down from his hold, making you stand on your feet as you looked at him with a glare.
"ten minutes, you big baby." gojo said before leaving your room.
---
it felt like you just survived a war, coming back home with nothing but trauma written all over your face.
what the fuck was that exam?
all those hours of studying this entire week, sleepless nights, missing meals... all gone to waste?
you punched in your lock combination on the small keypad outside your dorm room, hearing the small beep as the door unlocked. with a twist of the knob, you opened the door and entered. you saw the familiar pair of shoes by your door, not paying much mind to it as you kicked your own shoes off to the side.
you saw gojo leisurely laying on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.
"when did you get here? the exam didn't start until eight." you asked, your voice barely audible from how exhausted you were, physically and mentally.
"like fifteen minutes ago. my proctor started the exam like twenty minutes early by accident, since the clock in that room was broken." he explained, making you nod your head as you walked to the couch.
you tapped his long legs, ushering him to bend them so that you had space to sit. a moment of silence graced the atmosphere, neither of you uttering a single word.
"it was shit." you both blurted out at the same time, looking at each other with equal shock.
"you too?!"
"fuck yeah. i mean like, what kind of formulas were those?!"
"i know right?? it was like another language, completely different from the review packets."
"man, i should've just given up and fucked myself to sleep. at least, i'd get some good sleep."
"bro, you and fucking yourself. one night without having your fingers inside your pussy won't kill you." gojo sat up, shaking his head in disbelief that your concern was something so ridiculous.
"uh, yeah it will since you're clearly depriving me of your dick." you retorted, making him roll his eyes.
"whatever. what are you gonna do now?" he asked, leaning towards the small table to grab his water bottle, opening it to take a sip.
"have rough kinky sex with you." the words casually flew out of your mouth, catching the snowy haired male off guard as he choked on his water.
"i'm being serious!" he said in between his coughs, watching your laugh at his reaction.
"i'm gonna sleep, what else, idiot? i need my brain to rest and recover from all that trauma. besides, we do this every time when it's finals season, satoru. you got amnesia or something?" you joked, patting his back to help him stop coughing.
"sorry, my brain is malfunctioning. my dorm or yours?" gojo asked after clearing his throat.
"since you're already here, let's sleep in mine. i'm gonna go change into something more comfortable. if you wanna change out of those, there's a spare pair of your sweats and t-shirt in my closet." you informed him, making him nod as you both got up and headed towards your bedroom. you grabbed your clothes and headed into the bathroom to freshen up and change into them, giving up your bedroom to have gojo change.
after finishing up, you walked back into your room, seeing gojo already inside your bed; looking like he was half dead. you snorted, walking over to the other side before placing yourself on the empty spot.
"don't hog the blanket, or else i'll kill you."
"no promises."
with that being said, you scooted closer to gojo, in need of feeling his body's warmth against you. it wasn't anything new, this was sort of a tradition you guys did after finals week was over. you both slept for hours together.
you threw your legs over his waist, tugging onto gojo's shirt as he laid down while facing the ceiling.
"hold me, 'toru." you mumbled, your movements slightly bringing him back to life. gojo groaned in annoyance, turning his body to now face you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest.
"better?" he spoke into your hair, which was slightly tickling his nose. you nodded your head, your cheek pressed against his chest as you inhaled his scent.
gojo always smelled sweet with a mixture of expensive cologne.
a few minutes passed, and you could hear his heartbeat slowing down, indicating that he was falling asleep.
"hey, you awake?" you poked his cheek, making his eyebrows furrow.
"no." gojo murmured, eyes still closed.
"you know, satoru, if you jerk off before going to sleep then your sleep is gonna be like ten times better. science says it helps release stress and improves blood flow. if you want, i can jerk-"
"go to sleep, y/n." gojo sternly cut you off along with your wonderful visual of how you'd jerk him off, giving your thigh a light smack before resting his hand there. you let out a small whine, playfully biting his cheek.
you saw gojo's eyes scrunch, making you sigh.
"sorry." you mumbled to yourself, as gojo most likely didn't hear you since it seemed like he was already asleep. you pressed a small kiss on the spot you bit before snuggling into his neck. your arms and legs tightly wrapped around his body, fingers finding home between his snowy locks.
"it's okay." was the last thing you heard before you were no longer able to resist sleep.
---
gojo stirred in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words as he felt the constant buzzing noise vibrating on the bed. he painfully opened one eye, half-lidded, as he realized you were still tightly tucked way in his arms. you snored softly against his chest, lips pouted, making him tempted to kiss you.
the snow hair male tried to find the source of the buzzing sound, grabbing a hold of his phone only to see that his phone was dead. gojo's eyebrows furrowed in confusion 'cause then what the hell is it?
his eyes landed on your phone which was shoved under your back and gojo momentarily saw your screen flicker open. bingo! it was your phone that was annoyingly going off.
gojo grabbed your phone, deciding to silence it for you, even though you were passed out like you're dead; so you most likely didn't hear it anyways. but, he was a light sleeper and your stupid phone was keeping him awake.
as the screen flickered open again, gojo saw that you had well over a thousand notifications. his eyes widened, you were never the type to be social. of course, you weren't a loner or something of that sort; you had friends whom were also gojo's friends.
but, the both of you kept your friend groups small and restricted so avoid any unnecessary drama.
"tumblr?" gojo mumbled under his breath, knowing that it wasn't his place to snoop around. but, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. the notifications were all indicating that people hearted a post you made along with commenting hearts and all that shit.
a weird feeling bubbled inside him, something in between the lines of possessiveness and anger.
so, he decided to investigate, knowing that it was wrong but he couldn't help himself. it was convenient that his face id was added onto your phone, just like how yours was added onto his. after unlocking your phone, he found the tumblr app.
at first, gojo thought it was a dating website as it sounded very familiar to tinder. but, he would soon be proven wrong as he saw a feed full of different blogs and writing.
gojo's curiosity ran wild, silently exploring the new waters he was introduced to. he clicked on your notifications list which was flooded with heart and comments.
not any comments, but horrendously down bad thirsty comments.
sanemiswh0re: ahhh author!! i'm literally running laps, this was so good!
localbbg: this was pure filth and i loved every word of it!
cherrytones: hello?? i need a toru in my life! a tear just ran down my thigh.
yourhotgf: bro wtf, white haired men 🔛🔝 of me!! toru with that big dick energy?? lord, i need him in me so bad.
gojo's eyes widened at the comments while he scrolled. toru? it's a silly little nickname you've been calling him ever since you were kids. since when did you write stories? and... they were about him too?
he clicked on one of the comments which led him to said story, making him smirk as the naughty photo used in the border was enough to give him an idea. gojo settled in bed comfortable, with you still wrapped around him, without a fucking clue of what that menace just found.
"jesus.." gojo breathed out in shock, reading the pure filth you wrote of him and the 'y/n' used in the story, but he assumed that she was based off of you. it was no use denying it, the male character toru resembled too much of his personality and the female character y/n resembled you a lot too.
he wasn't even halfway done yet, but it seemed like you wrote an entire hour long porn script. your writing was so descriptive, describing the sex scenes in such a pornographic yet sensual way. gojo would be lying if he said it didn't make his heart flutter and cock throb.
were your fantasies of him always this dirty?
did you always want to be manhandled by him? praised and teased? being slutted out? a mix of a gentle dom that was a little witty?
god, where did you hide all of this?
of course, you were never ashamed of your vulgar comments and jokes that you threw at him. but, gojo always brushed them off because he grew accustomed to it. however, this was completely new to him.
your smutty writing of him and you made him feel hot and bothered. he knew you were dirty, but not this dirty.
you began to wiggle in his arms, stirring awake as you made a few groaning sounds.
"hmm, time... toru." you groggily asked, eyes still shut as you waited for a response.
"it's 8:23." gojo replied, still not bothered to place your phone back to where he found it. instead, he continued to surf through your dashboard to which he found more of these smut of him.
"why are you awake so soon?" you yawned, cracking an eye open only to wince from the sudden light exposure.
"had a leg cramp." he lied, making you grimace.
"ouch, you should've waken me up then." you commented, your hand find his as you played with his really long and thick fingers. it was a habit to toy around with the rings that wrapped around them.
"you looked too peaceful to disturb. besides, i found something to read in order to kill time." gojo boldly said, making you hum in amusement.
"oh? and since when have you been a bookworm? please, do enlighten me." you teased, making him chuckle. a smirk etched onto his lips, trying to collect his words before attempting to send you into cardiac arrest.
"it's actually very interesting, i have to say. i never thought i'd be into erotic romance." he started out, and the very unexpected words leaving his mouth made your heart pound inside your chest.
he was reading that shit besides you and you had no clue?
"jeez, and you call me a horny dog?" you scoffed.
"well, maybe it's torusluvr who's the real horny dog." he dropped the bomb, making your heart stop it's usual cardiac rhythm as you heard your tumblr account's username. you shot awake from bed, eyes meeting his playful ones as the color drained from you face.
"what? how did you-" you were a stammering and confusing mess, searching for your phone until you looked at his hand.
"looking for this?" gojo waved your phone, the screen on full blast lighting and filled with words of nothing but sex.
"give me my phone back, satoru." you panicked, trying to grab your phone from his grasp. but, gojo's body structure was stronger, bulkier and taller than yours; so you struggled.
however, gojo took your struggle as a form of amusement. he noticed how your face was covered in a blush from being caught red-handed, movements so shaky and alarmed.
it was kind of cute.
"nuh uh." gojo suddenly tossed your phone to the side before grabbing both of your hands. a yelp escaped from your lips as you were pinned to the bed in mere seconds, gojo's body hovering above yours as he slotted himself between your legs.
you gulped nervously, your cheeks growing warmer as it suddenly felt too embarrassing to look at gojo in the eyes. you were a mere ant compared to his body, his stature standing at six feet four inches, and his body was beefy as hell yet so soft to the touch.
"does this turn you on, y/n? hm? being manhandled by someone who's twice your size." the white haired male teased, his husky voice due to his previous slumber sent heat waves to your cunt.
"satoru-"
your words were cut short as gojo leaned closer to you, grinding his hard on against your throbbing cunt, making you gasp.
"satoru? what happened to toru?" he whispered, shoving his face into the crook of your neck, taking a minute to inhale the scent of your perfume which has been permanently engraved into his senses and brain.
"stop joking around, we're friends... best friends." you tried to reason, watching his eyes darken.
"oh? and do all best friends write porn worthy shit about each other?" gojo snickered, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. your throat went dry, words getting stuck.
"i guess we can't be best friends anymore 'cause i wanna recreate all that shit that i read— with you." a smirk tugged on his lips and before you could even process what the hell was about to go down, you let out a small whimper after feeling him bite down on your collarbone before peppering soft kisses on the abused skin afterwards.
"toru... please." you desperately begged, needing some kind of friction between you and him to relieve the ache between your thighs.
"i bet if i touch that cute little pussy of yours, my fingers are gonna come out glossy wet, yeah? should we test it out, y/n?" gojo continued to pester you with his teasing remarks, making you blush further at them as you were to embarrassed to have him find out about the wet patch that was created on your panties by now.
you shyly nodded but this wasn't enough for gojo to take for an answer. you felt a small pinch on the plush flesh of your thigh, making you wince.
"use your words, y/n. you didn't shy out when you were right all that stuff about me and you." he scoffed, making you whine in embarrassment.
"touch me, toru... i need to feel your fingers." your voice was meek, throat getting dry as you desperately bucked your hips upwards. gojo cocked an eyebrow, watching your body squirm underneath him in amusement.
"so needy." gojo laughed, rubbing your thighs before giving it a small squeeze. your body grew warm and your face flushed red from his touch. you've fantasized about this moment for so long and now it was finally happening.
gojo's fingers hooked on the waistband of your shorts about to pull them down until your hand came down to stop his movement. he was a little confused and felt a little guilty because he didn't know if he was moving too fast for you or made you uncomfortable.
"you okay?" gojo asked with genuine concern washed on his face. you bit down on your lips, averting your gaze from his.
"i'm not wearing any lace and my panties aren't even matching with my bra." you said in a little panicked voice. gojo was a handsome jerk and this most definitely wasn't his first time sleeping with someone.
you saw his hookups, they were always the prettiest of the prettiest girls. they looked like polished gems, wearing fancy feminine clothes in contrast with your hobo looking outfits, hair and nails were always done... they were like runway models.
you couldn't help but feel a little insecure. you knew that satoru was different, but that small part of you still felt like perhaps this was still some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on you.
the books you read always gave the female lead a perfect body free of blemishes, wearing expensive and sexy matching undergarments and so much more.
while here you are with unmatched undergarments, a completely inexperienced virgin who only knew how to shamelessly masturbate to find relief while fantasizing about her best friend.
"hm? so what? they're coming off anyways, princess." gojo reasurred you with a soft smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, indulging in the sweet taste of his lips. he used the strawberry carmex lipbalm religiously.
the kiss was slightly messy, as you were still a little inexperienced in this area as well. you can't remember the last time you last made out with someone, so your teeth clashed with his here and there. but, gojo never complained, he drank in your mistakes and guided you with the fluid movement of his lips and tongue.
the white haired male gave your bottom lip a gentle bite, one of his hands grabbing your jaw to keep your head in place while his other hand pulled down your shorts. gojo threw the annoying article of clothing on the floor, pulling away as a string of saliva connected the both of you.
he looked down and if it was possible to get any harder than how hard he was right now, gojo thought he might've exploded already. you laid under him like a pretty gem, face flushed and your lips swollen as you panted a little from the breathless kiss. a small grin tugged on his lips, the hand grabbing onto your jaw now coming to stroke your cheek.
"just relax for me, princess. let me show you just how much better reality is than your little stories." gojo whispered, leaving open mouthed kisses on your jaw that were leading south until he was peppering kisses on your neck.
you decided to take a leap and pull your t-shirt off, catching gojo off-guard by your sudden eagerness. a genuine smile was forming on his lips at how adorable you looked. your cotton panties had a strawberry pattern on it with a tiny pink bow on the front and your bra was a solid blue color; both of which satoru is well familiar with as the two of you did your laundry together.
"stop staring." you embarrassingly pouted, making him let a raspy chuckle escape his lips.
"can't help it when my best friend is this cute." he teased, pinching your cheek which made you yelp.
"shut up and go back to what you were doing." you nagged, making him cock an eyebrow.
"oh? eager are we?" gojo hummed, skillful fingers whisking your bra off in a matter of seconds, your tits spilling out of the cups that held them. you averted your gaze from him after seeing how gojo's eyes widened, feeling your face grow hotter by the second.
"look at me, y/n."
"no."
"look at me."
"eat my ass."
"i will."
"satoru!" you gasped, finally looking at him as his response caught your attention. however, gojo didn't pay too much mind to it as brought a hand down to fondle your tits, watching how you bit your lips at the sudden squeeze.
"don't look away from me, baby. you're such a pretty girl, so let me admire you for a bit, yeah?" with that being said, gojo latched his lips onto on of your nipples, making you whimper.
"shit.." you moaned, feeling the tip of his tongue flicking the sensitive swollen bud. he peered up to meet your eyes, looking so fucking pretty even with a mouthful of your tits. his stupidly charming blue eyes staring into your half-lidded eyes. you brought to stroke his cheek as he continued to suckle on your nipple.
"pretty boy." you cooed, feeling his hand kneed the plush flesh of your thighs before giving it a little spank, making you squeal. being the tease he is, he gave your nipple a gentle bite before releasing the bud with a 'pop' sound.
"you wore my favorite panties." gojo complimented, making you scoff.
"stop saying that to make me feel better about my mix-matched undergarments." you rolled your eyes.
"you could think that my words are lies but it still won't change the fact that i jerked off with those same panties." he shamelessly shrugged after revealing such a dirty secret, making your mouth gape open.
"huh?!" you were at a loss for words, but, for some reason it made your pussy throb at the thought of your hot best friend masturbating to the thought of you.
even if he used your panties.
"mhm... now, let's put them to some use again." gojo pulled down his shorts along with his boxers, completely disposing them to the floor to meet with the rest of your clothes.
your eyes shamelessly came in contact with his cock and you couldn't help but harshly gulp. gojo was fucking hung, not lacking in any area. his dick had to be at least a good seven or eight inches long, a single vein running on the side of the shaft, with a pretty blush pink tip that was angrily leaking with precum.
"feel a little overwhelmed, princess?" gojo sensed your shock, and you truthfully nodded.
"y-yeah... i never-"
"wait, you're still a virgin, y/n?" he genuinely asked and you thinned your lips before nodding. gojo gasped, slapping a hand on his mouth.
"what the fuck? and you wrote all of that with no experience??" gojo was truly amazed as you shyed away from his eyes.
"it's okay if you don't wanna, you know." your throat went dry, a little disappointed that it would end this way.
"fuck you? of course i wanna fuck you, princess. but, are you sure you're okay with me taking your virginity? we could stop and forget about it if you want to, no pressure." he asked in a soft tone, rubbing your hips in a comforting way.
"yeah, i want you to take it, toru. i trust you." you gave him a girlish smile, making his heart jump.
"okay then. i'm gonna prep you real good to make sure it doesn't hurt as much." gojo pressed a tender kiss on your lips. he stroked his cock a few times as a husky groan left his lips, making him sound so sexy.
gojo hooked two fingers to the side of your panties and lifted them up before sliding his cock inside the fabric. you moaned at the feeling of his warm and hard cock sliding past your folds, his wet tip nudging and coating your clit with his precum.
"fuck. you're so wet, baby." gojo breathed out, leaning down to suck on your tits as he continued to thurst his hips back and forth between your folds. your juices lubricated his cock and the stimulation provided to your clit with every nudge of his tip made your eyes roll back.
"oh my god... just like that, toru. please!" you begged, your hand finding purchase to his snowy locks as you pushed his face further to your tits, as he licked and sucked your nipples. gojo's hips never faltered, continuing to glide his thick dick between your slit, feeling your clit throb.
you felt your orgasm building up, making your breath hitch as you whimpered. after a few more thrusts, you gushed on top of his cock as gojo cummed on your pussy, messily spreading both of your juices on your cunt.
gojo pulled his cock out of your panties, seeing how there's a wet patch on the front of your panties. he used his index finger to outline and rub your clit, making you shake from the overstimulation.
"w-wait." you tried to catch your breath but gojo wasn't gonna let you rest until you cummed on his tongue and fingers.
"nope, gotta stretch you out now, princess." he pinched your clit, making your thighs shut close from the sudden impact.
"you little shit." you threw him a playful glare, to which he only stuck his tongue out and use his strong hands to pry your legs open. this time, gojo wasn't going to be so patient. he pulled your panties down and threw them somewhere, his cerulean eyes fixated on your cunt.
"fucking hell." gojo swore under his breath and you couldn't help but think negatively.
"what's wrong?" you asked a little worried.
"i'm trying to hard to not cum again from just looking at this pretty pussy of yours." he groaned, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, watching how it glistened with both your and his cum from the previous pantie fucking session.
you supported yourself on your elbow as your other free hand pulled his head forward, crashing your lips onto his. you kissed him with need, sucking on his bottom lip before giving it a bite. gojo began to slide his middle finger between your wet folds, making sure to rub your clit at a fast pace.
you moaned into his mouth, which gojo happily drank as he continued to give the neglected bud some attention. his finger stopped at your hole, experimentally shoving it in a little bit. you winced at the sudden intrusion as gojo's fingers were longer and thicker than yours.
"shh.. it's okay." gojo assured, pecking your lips as he entered his finger. your walls clamped down on his finger and gojo couldn't help but groan at how fucking tight you were.
"shit, gonna have to stretch you out quite a bit if this sweet pussy of yours is gonna take my cock. don't wanna rip you apart, baby." gojo chuckled, kissing your cheek before sliding his body down until his face was directly above your wet aching cunt.
gojo licked a fat stripe up your cunt, eyes rolling back at the taste of your pussy. you tasted so fucking good and he knew he'd get addicted. he slurped up all your juices, his tongue circling your clit before flicking it. you gripped onto his hair, pulling his mouth closer to your needy pussy as you basically humped his face.
gojo decided to add in another finger and a guttural moan escaped your throat, feeling him scissoring in the two thick digits in and out of your hole. your legs began to shake at the amount of pleasure you were getting from being tongue and finger fucked at the same time.
"fuck! augh~ i-i'm gonna c-cum!" you moaned as you felt the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hole enclosing around his fingers as you creamed on gojo's fingers.
"that's it, there you go, princess." gojo praised, drinking up all your cum and licking you clean. your breathing was irregular as you were trying to calm down your erratic heartbeat.
gojo looked up at you with a slutty expression, his lips glossy with his own spit and your cum along with his chin dripping with your arousal.
"think you ready for me, baby?" he teased, placing a playful kiss on your clit before slotting himself between your legs. gojo's hard cock rest on your inner thigh, his eyes giving you a glimmer full of tease and play.
"i think that if you don't put your dick inside me within the next minute i'll kill myself." you dramatically responded, clearly not in the right state of mind due to pleasure fogging up your mind. gojo laughed at your words, leaning in to kiss you.
you could taste yourself on your tongue, but that did not bother you as much as having your throbbing hole empty.
"toruuu~ pleaseee." you whined, bucking your hip up to his in an attempt to get some friction to relieve the ache between your legs.
"my pretty girl needs something, hm?" he continued his banter, making you pout. you trailed your hand down and grabbed his cock, giving it a few pumps and watched your best friend crumble from your touch.
"need your cock inside me, toru." you said in a sultry voice, using the tip of dick to rub up and down your slit, parting your folds. gojo decided to stop being mean and help you, grabbing the base of his thick cock and rubbing it on your dripping wet cunt.
his tip now rested on top of your hole, his eyes looking up at you for further movement. you nodded your head, hands going to the side to grab the sheets.
"it's gonna really hurt bad for a minute but i promise it'll get better. i'll go slow and gentle, 'kay?" gojo offered you a soft smile as reassurance, to which you nodded, fully trusting him to take care of you.
"can you come closer." you asked in a meek voice, and gojo nodded as he leaned forwards so that you could wrap your arm around his neck.
gojo pushed in the fat bulbous tip of his cock, the stretch of something fatter and bigger than his and your fingers immediately burned.
you winced in pain, making him apologize and you told him that it was okay. gojo stayed like that for a little before thrusting the tip of his dick in and out of you to help you get a little used to the intrusion. it took every fiber of his body to have enough self-control to not shove the entire length of his cock inside your cunt and use it like his personal cocksleeve.
"look at me, y/n." he breathed out, making you open your eyes as your eyes were a little glossy. gojo never fucked a virgin before, and you were his best friend, so he wanted to be extra careful to not hurt you.
"i'm sorry." gojo quickly blurted out and you were confused for a quick minute, until you let out a pained cry as he shoved his entire cock inside your pussy inch by inch. he quickly latched his lips onto yours, swallowing your cries as his thumb came down to play with your clit.
your nails dug into his flesh, tears streaming down your face as the stretch of his cock was so painful.
"hurts so much, toru." you sniffled, mumbling your words on his lips.
"it would've hurt more if i went inch by inch slowly. you'll be okay, baby, trust me." with that being said, gojo slid his cock fully out, your pussy missing the feeling of being full. you mewled at the loss of contact, until he slammed his hips back into you, shoving his cock in one go.
within each slow thrust that he gave you, the pain faded away and you were soon drowning in pleasure. your cunt clamped down on his cock, the delicious feeling of the vein on his cock grazing against your wet walls made your eyes roll back.
"such a sweet pussy, fuck you're so tight." he grunted, grabbing your hips in place as his pace was unforgiving. his cock curved and kissed every inch inside your cunt, making you grip the sheets for dear life.
"satoru! i- fuck. wait, it's too much!" you cried out, your vision becoming blurry and you couldn't tell if it was from the tears that were forming due to overstimulation or from exhaustion.
maybe both.
"you could take it, princess. this pussy was fucking made for my cock." gojo moaned, grabbing the back of your knees before pushing them back to your head; placing you in a mating press.
this new angle gave him a better view of your tits bouncing with every thrust along with every ripple of your ass that came in contact with his heavy balls. your free hand came down to play with your clit as the other hand grabbed the back of his head to give him a sloppy kiss.
"feels so good, toru." you slurred, as his cock continued to kiss your cervix, bullying it's way in and out of your aching hole.
"gonna fuck you so dumb, till you become mine." he grinned against your skin, biting down as he placed a slap on your pussy, making you let out a cry.
"please, please, please! i-i'm gonna cum!" you stuttered out, feeling his balls hit against your ass while he continued to fuck your hole. your cunt began to convulse around his cock.
with another thrust, another rub on your clit and a gentle kiss on the side of your neck, you let out the most desperate and needy moan known to mankind as you began to cum around his cock.
gojo began to chase his own high, satisfied with the ring of white cream forming at the base of his cock, fucking you into over stimulation.
"f-fuck, gonna cum. god, i-i love you, y/n." he choked on his words, fingers clawing onto your hips as he gave you one final thrust before release thick wads of hot cum inside your hole.
gojo fell on top of your body with his arms supporting him a little to make sure he doesn't crush you with his weight, cock still lodged inside your wet cunt that was now filled with both his and your cum.
"i... fuck, i love you too, satoru." you whispered, swallowing thickly from how dry your throat was. you stroked his snowy white hair, the both of you breathing heavily as gojo continued to lazily fuck his cum into you.
"you know, i didn't expect you to be a virgin from how horny you are." gojo giggled, making you hum. he rested his head on your chest, playfully taking your nipple in his mouth as he sucked on it.
"well, i guess i got the real life experience now." you gave him a cheeky smile, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
"better than your little books?" his voice was a little muffled due to having a mouthful of your boobs in his mouth.
"mhm, i should write about it." you thought out loud, catching his attention.
"if you have writers block anytime else, just let me know and i'll help you. that's the least i could do for my dear girlfriend." gojo smirked, making you blush at the last word.
"oh? and since when have you declared that you're my boyfriend?" you joked, making him bite your nipple.
"since forever. you're mine now anyways." he pouted like a child, making you laugh.
"fine, so are you finally gonna let me stack donuts on top of it?" you said, making him look at you with a look of disbelief.
"maybe."
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo fluff#gojo imagines#gojo satoru scenario#gojo smut#satoru smut#gojo satoru fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Migraine Pain
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Wrote this for me bc I have a migraine rn and I want Astarion to act as my personal cold pack. Beginning of Astarion's dialogue taken from the vid Neil did of an Astarion wake up call lol
Not proofread bc brain hurts
Warnings: migraine descriptions, pain, light angst if you squint, swearing, OOC Shadowheart
Word Count: 1,839
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
The two knocks at the door split your skull. Each one like an iron spike hammered into your temples. All you could do was hide deeper under the covers, hoping they would muffle the sound enough to stop hurting.
“Darling, get up,” Astarion called through the wood. Two more knocks accentuated his annoyance. He groaned when he didn’t hear any movement. “Get the fuck up!”
You wished you could tell him what was going on - really you did. But the slightest twitch from your tadpole was enough to have you wishing for death. Hells, you’d make a deal with Raphael with unbalanced terms just so it would go away! Instead, all you could do was wait it out. It would be a long wait indeed.
With another irritated sigh, you could hear the familiar scrape of his lockpicking tools working at the lock. Even the quiet metal-on-metal grated right against your eardrums. Fortunately, he was exceptionally skilled, because with a click the door was swinging open.
He rolled his eyes when he saw the lump of your body underneath the blankets. “My gods, you’re so lazy. Just like Gale.” His footsteps, even as an elven rogue, were too damn loud. You pressed your nose into the mattress, willing the thumping pulse in your head to stop. It thudded behind your eyes with each step.
In one swift motion, the blankets that provided the small mercy of darkness were whipped off of you. You curled as tightly into yourself as possible, covering your head with your arms to block out the sunlight streaming into your room. Astarion scoffed.
“Get out of bed and get up!” He gestured to the window. Even though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the rustling of his shirt. “It’s the morning. Listen, I might be a vampire that’s been away from the sun for 200 years, and I can actually now walk in it thanks to a tadpole that’s induced my mind,” he rambled, before huffing indignantly, “but even I don’t rest in!”
Now was the worst time for his dramatics. You usually adored how sassy and silly he could be, but now it just drove a stake through your brain. Even the Absolute couldn’t cause a pain this agonizing.
You whimpered, reaching out with one arm to swat him away. You missed. “Please, stop,” you whined. “Head hurts.”
He clicked his tongue. “Nothing the cleric can’t fix. C’mon, she can do whatever it is she does on our way out of here.”
You shook your head slowly, burying your face further and further into the bed. Gods, why did it have to hurt so fucking bad? Your chest tightened as the burn of tears stung at your eyes. Even crying hurt. Your body trembled and shook, your hands tangling into your hair to press at your affliction, as choked sobs suffocated you. Each gasp for air felt like a vice gripping your brain.
“Darling?” Astarion spoke, much softer. You couldn’t answer. He sighed softly, no longer annoyed. Well, a little annoyed. He dragged the blankets back up to your shoulders. “I’ll get Shadowheart.”
His footsteps were much lighter as he rushed out of your room. Was… this the work of the tadpoles? But wouldn’t they be affected, too? Ugh, why couldn’t anything be simple in this damn group of weirdos?
Shadowheart rushed in a moment later, remembering to keep her steps light halfway to you. She knelt down, frowning at the sight of the group’s leader so shaken. “Is it a migraine?” she whispered.
A sharp pain bolted through your temples as you nodded. You whimpered.
She sighed quietly. There was nothing her magic could do; migraines weren’t something she could just heal. “I’ll tell the others and whip up some tea, alright?”
She didn’t wait for your answer and set to work closing the curtains over the windows. Astarion frowned, missing the golden light already. “What’s wrong with them?”
Shadowheart put a finger over her lips with a glare. He scowled, but didn’t say anything. She only spoke when she was right next to him in the doorway. “They have a migraine. They’re extremely sensitive to light and sound right now.”
“Can’t you do something?” He glared impatiently at her, crossing his arms.
“There’s nothing for it. All we can do is wait. I suggest getting comfortable - we’re not leaving today.” She slipped past him, back down the stairs to the rest of your anxious companions.
He tapped his arm as he watched the lump under the blankets shift slowly as you finally uncovered your head. Baldur’s Gate was so close. Cazador was so close. They couldn’t deal with these delays when he was so damn close to being honestly, truly free.
He hadn’t moved from his post by the door when Shadowheart returned with a steaming cup of tea. She placed it carefully on your bedside table. “Drink this,” she whispered. “It should help with the pain.”
You nodded slightly, wiping at your face. She offered a little sympathetic smile. She gave Astarion a stern look as she passed. “Don’t try taking a nibble, vampire.”
He forced a sweet smile. “Offering yourself up instead?”
She scoffed, scrunching her nose up at the mere thought. “They need rest. And you leering over them isn’t going to help.” She left once more, with a last cursory glance over her shoulder to see if he’d leave.
Once she was out of sight, Astarion stepped into the room, softly closing the door behind him. His feet barely made a sound as he found his way back to your side. At least you weren’t curled up into a little ball anymore. Or crying. Small mercies, he supposed. He had no idea how to deal with someone being sick, let alone someone crying.
You looked at the cup on the table. Liquid salvation. The real trick was being able to drink it.
With a deep breath, you forced yourself to sit up, wincing and whimpering with every jerky motion. He was honestly shocked you didn’t jump when he grabbed your arm to help, but perhaps you really were that out of it. Or you knew he was there. Either way, you thank him in the smallest, most pathetic voice he’s ever heard.
Comfortably propped up on a stack of pillows against the headboard, you reached over to try grabbing the cup. He caught your hand just before you knocked the cup over.
“Careful, darling,” he chastised quietly. With a put-out sigh, he sat down at the edge of the bed and picked up the cup. He brought the rim to your lips. “Since you’re so incapable…”
You carefully took a sip. Your whole face relaxed at the warmth, and the soothing herbs mixed in. It wouldn’t be an immediate remedy, but it was a very pleasant one. After you eagerly drained half the cup, he set it back on the table. You sighed with relief, content in the knowledge even a single percentile of your pain could be eased away.
“You don’t have to stay,” you mumbled, watching him through squinted eyes. Even the dimness of the room was too bright for you.
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Least I could do after such a rude awakening.”
You chuckled, but the sound was cut short with a strong wince. You sat there for a moment, face pinched and brow tight as you waited for the sting to pass. Once it did, your face softened once more.
“How bad is it?”
“Like Dwarves are taking pickaxes to my temples in search of gold.” You took a breath. “And like an ogre is sitting on my head.”
He huffed a laugh. “Not much I can do to help with that, love.”
You hummed, shaking your head ever so slightly. You didn’t want to go jostling the miners when they were so damned hard at work.
With a small gesture toward the cup, Astarion helped you finish off the last half of the tea. A small dribble fell from the corner of your mouth down your chin. He caught it with his thumb quickly, the knuckles of his closed hand brushing your cheek. You leaned into the touch immediately, without even thinking about it. You sighed with relief.
“You’re cold.”
“Mm. Comes with being undead.” He set the cup aside, but allowed his hand to linger. In fact, he opened it up so he cupped your cheek with his palm. A sharp chill raced down your spine, but you didn’t pull away.
It was curious, how easily you placed yourself in his care. Watching as your eyes shut in easy tranquility as you indulged in the coolness of his hand, how relaxed you became - it surprised him. You always found new ways to amaze him.
Slowly, not wishing to jostle you, he moved to press his hand to your temple. If he thought you were relaxed before, this was utter bliss. “Gods, don’t stop,” you begged.
He glanced at the door, half expecting Shadowheart to burst in and yell at him for disturbing you. But nothing happened. Still, it would be better to avoid being told off. He pulled away, but kept a hand on your arm. “Lay down, dove.”
Whether out of desperation to have him acting as a cold compress once more or just to take the pressure off your brain, you complied in a heartbeat. Slowly, you shimmied back down into the covers, head situated on a pillow once more.
Astarion thought for a moment. Did he really want to keep sitting here, back tiring out, arms reaching for hours? You whined, placing a hand over his on your arm, asking without words for relief. He hushed you.
As quickly as he could without shaking the bed, he stood, rounded it, and slipped in under the covers beside you. You gravitated toward him immediately, even as you winced. Head on his chest, arms clinging to him like a babe holding onto its mother, you relaxed into the natural chill he offered. He rested a hand back on your cheek, but slid the other to the back of your neck. That was the sweet spot, it seemed; you practically melted in his arms.
It wasn’t long before you were fast asleep, lulled into peace with the aid of the tea. He stared at the dark curtains blocking out the sun. One more day couldn’t hurt, surely. Not that they really had a choice, but…
You stirred in your sleep, turning your head to press your nose further into the ruffles of his shirt. Like this - bags under your eyes, hair a mess, a bit pallid - he was sure. He would Ascend. You’d never have to suffer like this again. Neither of you would. He’d be the most powerful man in the lands, with you at his side. Never again would he have to live in fear, bound in chains to someone else.
He sighed and rested his cheek lightly on your head. Gods. Just a few days now.
---
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#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate astarion#baldur's gate tav#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate tav#bg3 astarion#bg3 tav#gn reader#x gn reader#gender neutral reader#x gender neutral reader#migraine
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❦ KITTEN PT. 2
cw: mature, mdni!, fem!reader, slight choking (like the most minuscule amount), p in v sex, unprotected sex
PART 1 | MASTERLIST
shota digs his phone out of his pocket, you still in his lap. he hits play on a song before tossing it to the other end of the couch. the music isn’t as loud as the club, but it’s something you can dance to.
“c’mon, kitten.” he pats your thigh for encouragement.
a part of your professionalism takes over as you start to move, his hands wander along your costume and you stand up in an attempt to free yourself but they stay stationed on you.
“i don’t normally allow customers to touch me.” your back is facing him, so you don’t notice his finger going under the elastic of your costume until he snaps it back against your skin.
you instinctively slap his hand away.
“the material’s cheap.” he says.
“excuse me?” you continue to dance.
he snaps at the elastic again and you turn to face him with a stern glare. he’s not looking at you, though. instead, his finger slips under the garter on your thigh this time. with one curl, he breaks the flimsy material.
“shota!” you gasp.
he chuckles deeply.
“you expect me to believe this would last longer than a set?”
“well people don’t come on stage and start breaking my shit.” your hand comes to his chest and he allows you to push him back against the couch.
“it’s not gonna work.” he says, maintaining his look.
you kiss your teeth at him.
“fine then.” you say and start to turn around. “i’ll just go take this off.”
his hand grabs your wrist as he stands, pulling your back into his chest once again.
“let me help,” he murmurs into your ear, pulling your ass back into his boner that you didn’t realize he had. he was getting you so worked up you didn’t even bother to check the effect you had on him. “you did such a good job, let me repay you.”
you tilt your head to the side, allowing his nose to brush against the skin on your neck.
“you think after annoying me like that you can just do what you want?”
his hands start exploring your body. one travels up to cup your throat over your collar, the other inches down to your panties that have become more exposed from your dancing.
a sound escapes you.
“this alright, kitten?” he asks, placing a hot kiss on your neck.
“of course, shota.” you hum and he placed some pressure on your neck, guiding you to face him. “s’about time you did something.”
he shakes his head slightly, planting a soft kiss on your lips to distract you from his finger circling your clit.
“should i apologize for treating you with respect?”
“only in the bedroom.” you whimper at the feeling of his fingers slowly becoming wet.
“or the living room.” he corrects, hand from your throat going to your hips to help stabilize you.
your arms go around his neck, kissing him desperately as he makes you fall apart on his fingers.
he doesn’t allow you to muffle your whines with his lips, pulling back just to make you chase him like you’ve been doing all this time.
“shota!” you cry as you begin to shake, just wanting his lips and his fingers and all of him. you were selfish and you didn’t care.
he just chuckled lowly and continued teasing you.
his fingers move quicker and harder, the slick that you dropped onto them helping him glide over your clit with ease. he brings you to your orgasm quickly, but you make the mistake of announcing it.
he removes his fingers.
you whine his name again, eyes closed and trying to get a sense of your surroundings again when shota pushes you onto the couch.
it’s only a small yelp you let out when your stomach makes contact—he would never hurt you.
and he pulls your hips towards him with one hand, the other pushing down on you to arch your back.
“that’s it, kitten.” he purrs. “is this finally what you wanted?”
you nod your head as best you can.
the sound of metal is muffled somewhat by the music you blocked out, but you definitely recognize the sound of a belt being undone.
that, along with the cool air on your pussy as he slides down your panties paints a pretty straightforward picture.
and you want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.
without warning, shota slides in.
a strangled sound comes out from your lips, but he just takes that as a sign that he’s doing good.
his thrusts start slow, building up to faster and harder paced as you let the moans and whine freely exit your mouth. you can’t hold back how much pleasure this man is giving you. and all those times you touched yourself to the thought of him would never live up to the feeling of his cock stretching you cunt.
you gasp when his fingers move back to your clit, and his pattern starts getting unsteady as he’s harshly pounding into you and touching you so well.
his grunts and groans are mixing in with the sounds that you make, and it’s too hard to speak but you muster a “close, shota.”
“me too, kitten.” he huffs and your entire body tightens at the feeling over going over the edge.
you whine his name as you cum, but that just pushes shota to go harder, chasing his own orgasm.
he nearly screams your name as he releases into you. within a minute, he collapses, hands holding his body just over top of you and you feel his hot breath on your back.
he placed a soft kiss on your skin.
“let’s go to bed.” he says.
you don’t move, needing a minute to recover as you feel his cum start to slip out of you.
“mine?” you ask.
he laughs a bit.
“well mine is too far.”
#mha x you#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha smut#bnha smut#aizawa shota x reader#mha aizawa#aizawa x reader#aizawa x you#aizawa shōta#bnha aizawa#aizawa smut#aizawa imagine#aizawa headcanons#shoto aizawa#aizawa x y/n
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post war levi with his doctor or nurse pls 👀
ABSOLUTELY coming right up.
warnings : gender neutral reader, 18+, handjob, very brief blowjob, reader is a swallower🗣️, patient/nurse dynamic obviously, slow-ish? and i feel like there’s not much smut sorry, lmk if any other warnings are needed! (oh also maybe me not being too specific with levi’s injuries cuz i kinda forgot them…)
a/n : i will get to my other levi rqs eventually.. admittedly this is my most recent one 😭 i’m not unmotivated, like i said i am out of writers block, i’ve just been tired and trying to focus on my relationships irl :)
oh also this is my first time writing smut in FOREVER😭
it was about time to check on captain levi again, realizing you’d spent quite a bit of time focusing on other patients. you felt bad, seeing as so much had happened all within that short amount of time.. the explosion, and then immediately after, the rumbling? you had to admit, levi is a strong man. seeing him so beat up hurt a little, despite not knowing him well.
you tap on the curtain surrounding his hospital bed a few times, quietly saying his name to ask for permission to enter the.. room. it’s hard to call it a room when it’s made of thin, floral printed fabric sheets hanging from the ceiling.
“come in.” his rough voice answers, and you hear him shifting to sit up straight in the bed.
“hi, captain levi. how’re you doing on pain at the moment? need anything?” you question, fixing the curtain behind you as you came closer to his bed, gently placing a hand on his ankle.
you definitely see him wince at the touch, but he doesn’t seem pained, perhaps just surprised. well, not many people would be brave enough to lay a hand on captain levi ackerman…
“i’m fine. and you don’t really have to call me captain. only the scouts do.” he waves his hand slightly off his lap, shaking his head.
“i do it out of respect, not because i feel obligated.” you smile softly at him, then shift your gaze to his more severely injured leg. “may i touch your leg?”
“..yeah, go ahead.” hearing that you have that level of respect for him made him feel something. not embarrassment, or pride, but something else he couldn’t quite grasp.
you gently feel his other ankle, pressing on it while your eyes stayed on his face as to check for any signs of pain. you carefully roll his ankle around, earning a grunt from the man.
“sorry. is it any better, or has it hurt the same amount since?” your hands now rest on his calf as you question him.
“it’s getting better. it’s fine, continue.” he clears his throat, his eyes — or, well, eye — never leaving your hands.
you nod, now pressing along his calf, still watching his face for signs of pain. this seemed to hurt more, seeing as he scrunched his nose, his eye narrowing.
“same question.” instead of standing at the end of his bed, you move up to the side, one hand still at his calf and the other at his knee.
“getting better. the doctor said it isn’t broken, just the bone is bruised pretty bad. don’t worry about it.” he seems a bit worried. “you.. don’t need to feel further than that. my upper leg is fine.”
“captain levi, you can’t tell me not to worry about it, i’m a nurse. i have to worry about every detail of these injuries.” you laugh softly. “and hey, didn’t the doctor say you pulled something in your thigh? of course i have to feel it. don’t worry, i won’t do anything other than see how much you’ve healed.”
“well—! i don’t think i pulled anything, i.. he did say that. but it’s better. i can say that right now.” it’s a strange sight to see captain levi flustered… but not an unpleasant one.
all you do is roll your eyes at his efforts to get you to leave it alone. as to not make it more difficult for him, you make it slow, but little do you know, that only makes it harder. in more ways than one.
at a particular spot on his upper thigh, he gasps, his muscles tensing under your touch. you rest your hands there, not pressing any further.
“and you said you’re fine?” you raise an eyebrow, seeing that he just contradicted himself.
“i am, i really am. it’s just.. i’m not used to people touching me. especially not.. in such a.. spot.” he cringes at himself, finally looking away as to hide his embarrassment.
“wh— ohh. in a bad way? is it uncomfortable?” you furrow your eyebrows now, genuinely curious as you didn’t want to offend him.
his lips press into a thin line as he shakes his head, his gaze returning to you, and then your hands.
“quite the opposite.” levi sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“then what’s the issue?” tilting your head at him out of pure confusion, you see him almost smile for a split second.
“it’s.. a little too comfortable.” he chuckles at himself, looking away once again.
it takes a moment for you to put 2 and 2 together, but once you realize what he means you can’t help but gasp. however.. your hands don’t move from his thigh.
“do you.. know what nurses are for, captain levi?” your voice is quieter now, your eyes unable to meet his out of pure shyness. “we’re here to help. so.. would you like for me to help you?”
you hear his breath catch in his throat at your offer, as he certainly expected you to he disgusted, or at least ignore what he said. but no.. you offered to help him. he felt ashamed, but.. how could he refuse?
“yes. yes please.” levi nods eagerly, his hands moving to the button of his pants before you stop him.
“let me.” you undo the button for him, unzipping the fly as well.
you assist him in lifting his hips up so you can pull his pants down just enough so they’re down to his thighs. they’re a little bruised, but you look past that and see the sheer muscle in them. you can’t believe you got to touch them. and you only get to touch more of him with what you’re doing…
making eye contact with him for a moment as to ask for permission to remove his boxers, he nods again, a slightly pink tint to his cheeks now. you look back down, slowly running a hand over his hard-on before hooking a finger in the grey material, pulling them until you could see every inch of his cock.
“i can’t do much other than use my hands, that’s okay, right?” you whisper, fearing being caught by another patient nearby or even another nurse or doctor.
levi simply nods, his breathing getting heavier with each movement you make. you spit onto your hand, then return it to his crotch. you run it up and down, causing him to cover his mouth with his own hand. you still hear his gasps, and a few groans trying to escape.
each time you reach the tip, his hips buck slightly, though not so much as he would feel pain due to his leg injuries. he must’ve really needed this, especially since he asked it of someone he barely knew outside of a few conversations here and there as they were only dropping off pain meds, or changing bandages.. it seemed very out of character, even to you.
he was already leaking pre-cum, quite a lot of it, at that. you had to admit, for a man as attractive as him, it was hard to believe he never got any action. of course, you aren’t his first, but he still probably hadn’t had something like this happen. that much was obvious, with how shy he seemed, and how fast he seems to be getting close.
levi removes his hand from his mouth, now clutching the sheets below him with it. “close, so close,” he whispers, clearly struggling to keep quiet.
you look around for something for him to release onto, but there was nothing quite convenient enough. so.. next best thing?
you bend over, placing only the tip in your mouth, continuing the fast movement of your hand as you slowly swirl your tongue around him. he sighs loudly, his hand quickly returning to his mouth as he coats the inside of your mouth with his cum. there was a lot to swallow, but you weren’t one to complain, really, especially not when it’s captain levi ackerman.
you pull away, licking your lips swiftly and wiping your hand on a paper towel in the corner of the room. wait a second, where were those when— ah, what’s done is done… you think, rolling your eyes at yourself for not realizing those only a few seconds earlier…
when you turn back around, levi’s face is beet red, his pants already up and buttoned. his breathing is still unsteady, as to be expected…
“thank you.” he mumbles, and you swear you see a tear run down his cheek.
“um.. anytime.” you laugh softly. “need anything else?”
“i’m.. i’m alright for now.” he replies quietly, shaking his head and placing his hands in his lap. “i might need help again tomorrow, though.”
“well, i’m here every day. i’ll check on you again soon.” and with that, you leave, unsure of whether to feel shameful and embarrassed, or extremely proud that you just made the captain levi cum.
(if you liked this then my requests are very much open!)
#attack on titan fanfiction#aot fanfiction#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman smut#levi smut#attack on titan smut#aot smut#levi x reader#post war levi#levi ackerman
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Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Four
Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person)
Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Angst.
Word count: ~3.5k
Series masterlist
Chapter summary: An understanding is reached and Aegon dishes family dirt at a BBQ.
Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.
Her phone vibrates on the coffee table, the buzzing causing it to move dangerously close to the edge. Quick as a flash, Mysaria lunges forward from the sofa to catch it before it topples to the floor, smirking when she sees the name that’s flashing up on the screen.
“How many times is that today now?” She asks, gently tossing the phone to her as a missed call notification replaces the incoming call alert.
She shrugs, not averting her gaze from the TV screen as a rerun of Come Dine with Me, that neither of them are particularly paying attention to, plays to itself. “Dunno. He’ll get the hint eventually.”
It’s Sunday evening and she hasn’t spoken to Aemond since she woke up alone in his flat the previous morning, despite the fact he texts and calls her more times than she can count. She deletes the messages without reading them, and lets each of his calls go to voicemail. He’d made her feel cheap, used, put a price on her body, and she had no desire to ever speak to him again.
Mysaria sighs, flopping back against the sofa cushions. “Can I be a bitch for a second?” She asks, turning her head to face her. “You aren’t going to like it, but I think you need to hear it.”
She leans her head back, eyes flitting to meet her flatmate’s, already feeling a prickle of annoyance heat her skin, but decides to let her say her piece. “Go on then.”
“Why are you punishing him because you’ve caught feelings?”
Her annoyance bursts forth into anger as her brow furrows, her body language becoming squared and defensive. “I haven’t–”
“Yes, you have,” Mysaria interrupts. “I get that he did a shitty thing by leaving you high and dry, but he clearly feels bad or he wouldn’t keep trying to reach you. Give the guy a chance to explain himself, if you don’t like what he has to say then break things off.”
She scoffs in frustration, turning back towards the TV and rolling her eyes. “You are so bloody annoying!”
“Because I’m right,” Mysaria says smugly, leaning over to tap her on the nose. “You gonna call him back then?”
She chews her lip absentmindedly, turning her phone around in her hands. She supposes it wouldn’t hurt to reach out to him, if only to ask how to return the five grand he’d transferred to her.
The buzzer to the flat startles her out of her train of thought and Mysaria peels herself off of the sofa with a groan of “Finally! I’m bloody starving!”
Pizza first, then she’ll call him. She’s definitely not putting it off, she reasons with herself, she just doesn’t want her food to go cold.
“Erm…so it’s not pizza…” Mysaria says awkwardly as she re-enters the living room, a silver haired figure a good deal taller than her trailing behind her.
Dread gnaws at her stomach as she takes in the sight of Aemond, hair thrown back in a bun, dressed in a tight black henley and fitted black jeans, holding the largest bouquet of lilies and roses she’s ever seen before. Even when she’s angry with him he still manages to look absolutely breathtaking, and it irritates her.
“I’ll just…uh…” Mysaria makes a gesture towards her bedroom, and quickly makes herself scarce.
Lucky bitch.
“You’ve not been returning my calls,” Aemond says flatly.
“No…” She responds quietly, feeling the warmth of embarrassment spread through her, as she plucks nervously at the legs of her jogging bottoms. He’s never seen her not put together, and she loathes that she feels shame for her appearance, when she hasn’t done anything wrong. Him seeing her with messy hair, an oversized t-shirt and threadbare joggers makes her feel weak and vulnerable in his presence.
“Or replying to my texts.”
“I know.”
“Listen, if the other night wasn’t good, or I hurt you–”
“Why don’t you sit down?” She interjects, suddenly realising how absurd he looks, stood in the middle of the living room, dwarfing everything around him with his obscenely large bunch of flowers.
Aemond nods gratefully, taking the seat next to hear. “These are you for, by the way,” He tells her, handing her the flowers.
She hums a quiet thanks, immediately overwhelmed by the sweetness of their aroma, and places them on the coffee table, knowing she’ll need no distractions if she’s to say what she needs to say.
“The other night was great, really great, actually,” She begins. “But you just left the next morning without a word, and that really upset me.”
“You were upset because I left?” He asks, sounding almost surprised.
“Yes!” She replies with exasperation. “You made me feel cheap, and used.”
“Cheap? But I bank transferred you afterwards.”
“Jesus, Aemond! I’m not a prostitute!” She throws up her hands angrily, gesticulating her point.
He swallows thickly, clearly considering his next words carefully. “I know you said you’ve never done anything like this before, but neither have I, and I made a mistake. My grandfather called me into the office early on Saturday morning. You looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry that my carelessness has hurt you, but I am keen to continue our arrangement.”
It all seems so simple when he words it like that. She could easily have reached out to question his actions, but she’d allowed her emotions to guide her and now feels foolish because of it. When she says nothing, Aemond presses on.
“No funny business, I promise. We don’t have to sleep together again, but I’ve enjoyed having your company at family functions, it makes them more bearable. Please say you’ll consider it?”
She’s not sure what prompts the words from her mouth, perhaps it’s the pleading look in Aemond’s eye, or the fact that she enjoys his company too, but she says them before she fully has a chance to think about them. “Okay, we’ll carry on as before.”
“Thank you,” He says earnestly.
The buzzer sounding again prevents him from saying anything else, as Mysaria hurries from her room towards the door, in pursuit of her pizza delivery.
“I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” Aemond says softly. “I’ll text you, okay?”
She nods, and they both stand, hovering near each other, both unsure of what would be an appropriate goodbye. Eventually Aemond leans in, kissing the corner of her mouth lightly before pulling back and exiting the flat. She holds her fingers against the area, still able to feel the press of his lips even after he’s departed.
It takes three days for Aemond to message her again, and in that time it feels as though she could crawl out of her own skin with the apprehension that his silence brings. Had he changed his mind, decided her withdrawing contact over an honest mistake was too much to deal with? It fills her with a nervous energy that makes the days unbearable.
The relief she feels when he finally deigns to reach out is borderline humiliating.
Not sure if you remember my half sister, Rhaenyra, but she is having a BBQ on Saturday. Are you free?
I remember. Are you sure you want to go after what happened on your mum’s birthday? Xoxo
My mother will never let me hear the end of it if I don’t go. Will you come with me?
Yeah, I’m free :) xoxo
When Saturday finally rolls around, she keeps her hair and make-up simple, wearing a floral sundress and strappy sandals, but immediately feels underdressed as she recognises the house they pull up outside of as being the one they’d been to for Jace and Baela’s engagement party.
She has little time to dwell on her appearance though, as Aemond ushers her through the expanse of the house and out into the back garden. A sprawling, lush green lawn that could be considered more of a field due to its size plays host to various members of the Targaryen and Hightower families, as the smell of barbecued meat lingers on the breeze.
Aemond leads her around, his hand glued to the small of her back, so she can say polite hellos to everyone. Alicent and Criston greet her with warm hugs and kisses to both cheeks, Helaena does the same, while standing with Baela and Rhaena, the two girls offer a quick “hello” in sing-song unity. Aegon merely holds up a hand by way of greeting, looking less than enthusiastic to be there, and Otto says a polite “good to see you both”. The rest of the family’s greetings are a little more frosty, with Rhaenyra, Jace, Luke and Joffrey giving curt nods of acknowledgement, while Daemon is too preoccupied with the barbecue to notice they’ve even arrived.
“Viserys and Aegon not joining us?” Alicent asks Rhaenyra softly.
“It would mean having to switch off their Playstation, so I very much doubt it,” Rhaenyra says with a roll of her eyes.
The tension is palpable, but her nerves subside slightly when she sees a Rhodesian ridgeback galloping around the garden, with a copper coloured dachshund hot on its heels.
“Oh cute!” She says, turning to Aemond. “Could you not have brought Vhagar?”
“No,” He sighs. “She doesn’t get along with Syrax and Caraxes, so I’ve left her with the dog sitter.”
She gratefully accepts a glass of Pimm’s that’s offered to her by Otto, before he tells Aemond he needs a word.
“You’ll be okay for a moment won’t you, darling?” Aemond asks her.
The pet name causes her breath to catch in her throat and she merely nods, not trusting herself to speak. As they walk away together, she wanders over to a corner of the large garden, pretending to examine an ornate sundial to keep herself busy, when she feels a presence beside her.
Aegon has sidled up to her, beer in hand, a slight smirk on his face. “Having fun?”
“About as much as you are, by the looks of things,” She replies with a tight smile.
“At least you’re getting paid to be here.”
Her eyes go wide, her chest tightening as she realises he knows.
Aegon chuckles. “Ah, you didn’t think I knew? It’s fine, who do you think showed him the app?”
“O-oh…” is all she’s able to stammer, feeling too shocked to say anything else.
“You play a convincing part,” He takes a swig from his bottle. “Too good to be acting, actually. You can’t fake how you look at my brother.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She snaps, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment tingle at her flesh.
Aegon snorts derisively. “Look, take it from me, don’t get attached. My brother is the last person you want to get involved with. This whole family is a fucking car crash.”
She sips anxiously at her drink, nodding slightly. “I’d noticed none of you seem to get along that well.”
“That is the fucking understatement of the century. Has Aemond told you much about us?”
“Nothing substantial.”
“Allow me to fill you in,” He gestures discreetly towards Alicent. “My mother used to be best friends with my half-sister, they went to school together. My grandfather and my father were business partners, tri-owners of multiple companies alongside Daemon. When my father’s wife, Rhaenyra’s mother, passed away suddenly, my mother started dating my father.”
“Jesus…” She mutters under her breath.
“Oh, it gets worse!” He says with a leer. “See, Rhaenyra wasn’t happy that her best friend had shacked up with her dad. I mean, who would be? She was even more pissed off when the three of us came along, as it meant she was no longer an only child. She started sleeping around to get back at my father, that’s how she ended up with those three.”
Aegon nods towards where Jace, Luke and Joffrey all stand.
“What about her other two children, Aegon and Viserys?”
“Those are the kids she’s had with Daemon. They got married shortly before my father passed away. Mum thinks she did it just to strengthen her claim of the assets, as Daemon’s a partner in the business and Dad didn’t bother to leave a will. Everything Mum has ever tried to claim for us she’s contested.”
“So that’s what all that talk of Dragonstone Cottage was about at your Mum’s birthday?”
“Yeah, ‘Nyra’s sneaky way of trying to hoard assets for her brood.”
“How do Baela and Rhaena fit into all of this?”
“They’re Daemon’s children from a previous marriage.”
“But Baela is engaged to Jace, isn’t that a bit…” She trails off, not knowing the exact word she wants to use.
“Incestuous?” Aegon lets out a laugh that borders on being too unhinged to come from a place of genuine mirth, before taking another swig of his beer. “Yeah, yeah, it is.”
“So what does this have to do with Aemond? Why should I not get involved?”
Aegon rounds on her. “Has he ever told you about, y’know…” He taps his eye.
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Hmmm. Probably best to leave that to him to explain then.”
Their attention is pulled away by the sound of a fork being tapped against the side of a glass. She turns to see Daemon standing at the head of the garden. “Just wanted to thank you all for joining us today”, He says as everyone gathers closer, herself and Aegon included. “I think such an occasion is cause for celebration.” He brandishes a bottle of champagne, before popping the cork, a few that are stood closest step back out of its line of fire.
Luke smirks, elbowing Aemond. “He should be careful, almost had your other eye out.”
It happens so suddenly it seems like a blur, but Aemond has Luke by the collar and Aegon is rushing forward to tackle Jace away. Punches are thrown from both sides, until the ensuing scuffle is broken apart by Daemon and Otto.
Aemond’s eye is wild as he approaches her, his breathing ragged, and his usually immaculately styled hair tousled. “Come on, we’re leaving,” He grits out.
She has to hurry to keep up with his long strides through the house and to the car, and they drive in silence, Aemond’s knuckles blanched with the force of the grip he has on the steering wheel.
She drums her fingers anxiously against her thighs, not quite knowing what to say, but it is Aemond who eventually breaks the silence.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” He says quietly. “It was a bad idea for us to go today.”
“What was that all about?” She asks as gently as she can. “What got you so heated?”
Aemond sighs heavily, keeping his focus on the road ahead, and for a moment she doesn’t think he will answer her.
“Luke’s the reason I lost my eye,” He admits. “His little comment today got to me, and I lashed out.”
“What happened?” She turns slightly in the passenger seat to face him.
“It’s stupid really, an irresponsible rich family allowing their kids to roam the woods with Airsoft guns. The official story is that it was an accident, but accidents don’t happen at point blank range, accidents aren’t something you never apologise for.”
“Jesus, Aemond, I’m so sorry.” Her heart aches for him, having to play happy families with someone who has maimed him
“It is what it is,” He says with a slight shrug. “Makes being around them harder than it already is though. Thank you for being there with me today.”
“That’s alright,” She fidgets nervously with the hem of her dress as they pull up outside her block of flats. “Do you want to come inside for a bit? You shouldn’t be alone when you’re feeling like this.”
No funny business.
Her heart races as Aemond’s hands disappear up her skirt, reappearing with her underwear grasped in his fingers, dragging them down her legs.
We don’t have to sleep together again.
She buries her hands into the softness of his hair as he latches his mouth against her, bringing her to quick release with harsh strokes of his tongue. Every thought of what they’d discussed on Sunday evening leaves her mind as he pushes her back against the mattress, the force of his thrusts inside of her causing her toes to curl and her eyes to roll back, until he eventually collapses against her with a grunt, the faint pulsation of him inside of her signifying he’s reached his end.
They fall asleep, curled around each other in her tiny double bed and she’s pleased to see he’s still there when she awakens the following morning.
“Your mattress is fucking terrible,” Aemond grouses sleepily, pulling her tighter against him. “It feels like I’ve slept on a pile of loose change.”
She giggles, nuzzling into his neck.
They spend most mornings like that, over the coming weeks. Aemond becomes a frequent presence in the little flat. Her feet stay planted in his lap while they watch TV after work in the evenings, before he fucks her into the mattress like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Their mornings are lazy and indulgent, spent slowly exploring every inch of each other, before they part ways to go to work, only to do it all over again in the evening.
She buys a dog bed, which takes up half the floor space in her bedroom. Aemond raises an eyebrow at this.
“Vhagar’s quite fussy about where she sleeps,” He tells her, only to watch in disbelief as the elderly doberman circles several times on it, before settling down to nap. “I stand corrected.”
Their presence in her life becomes larger as time goes on, and it’s difficult not to feel that it is more than it is, but she is constantly reminded of the transactional nature with every shopping trip on Oxford Street, every visit to Champney’s Spa, each time he hands her his credit card.
The thought occurs to her that perhaps she ought to broach the topic of what they are, how their relationship is developing, but each time she decides against it, too afraid he’ll say something she doesn’t want to hear.
Mysaria smiles as she sees them snuggled together in front of the TV, when she comes home. “You’re here so often, we’ll have to start charging you rent,” She says playfully.
Aemond pulls out his phone, bringing up his banking app. “How much?” He asks, deadly serious.
“Aemond, she was joking!” She laughs, swatting his arm playfully.
It’s been a slow Saturday morning, almost midday and she sits at the kitchen table, a satisfied ache between her legs, as she sips at a coffee while Aemond plates up eggs benedict for them both. One of the things that surprises her most about him is that he’s able to cook, and he does it well.
She eyes him carefully as she pokes at her breakfast, unable to shift the feeling of how his fingers dug into her flesh, how he gazed at her so reverently, his lips featherlight against her throat just an hour before.
His money, his lavish lifestyle, she wants none of it. She just wants him, so she decides that this time she’ll be brave and shoot her shot before she has the opportunity to second guess herself.
Carefully, she sets down her cutlery and rests her chin against her hand. “So I’ve been thinking…about us.”
Aemond pauses, fixing her with his right eye.
Nerves flutter in her belly at his silence, but she continues anyway. “What we have, let’s make a proper go of it? I don’t care about your money, Aemond, I just want to be with you.”
He clears his throat, setting down his own knife and fork, before slowly wiping his mouth on a napkin. “I can’t do that,” He says quietly.
She is immediately struck by the hollowness in her chest, sucking in a harsh breath to ground herself against the lump forming in her throat.
Aemond reaches across the table, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re perfect,” He reassures her. “But I’m not, and I don’t do relationships. My circumstances are too complicated, I’d end up hurting you, and that’s the very last thing I want to do.”
She can’t argue with him, he’s being so bloody nice about it, and Aegon had warned her of this. She wants to scream at him, to cry, to tell him it isn’t fair, but it’s her that has asked for this, and at least he’s being honest with her, even if the truth does make her feel like her chest is being crushed under a vast weight. “I understand,” She chokes out.
“I’m sorry,” He says sadly, genuinely.
“Can you…can you just go, please?” She whispers, unable to look at him.
He nods, standing and presses a gentle kiss to her temple before leaving.
Only after she hears the front door click closed, and the feel of his lips have faded from her skin, does she allow herself to fall apart. Hot tears cascade down her cheeks, as she feels the presence that has taken up so much of her life leave behind a gaping void in its wake.
#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond stannies#pro aemond targaryen#modern aemond#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen fan fiction#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen fan fic#aemond targaryen fanfic#hotd fan fiction#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fan fic
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method acting ☆ cl16
genre: series, glimpse of angst, fluff, humor, strangers to friends/roommates to lovers, a bit of back and forth
word count: 4.2k
cherry here!...and it all comes crashing down.
ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six
Chapter 5
Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.
For years, you spent time behind a screen, mindlessly running after Eleanor with a notepad, messy hair sticking out like a madwoman. It must’ve been quite the sight for your fellow colleagues. A constant cycle of proving yourself to others—to your own fucking parents—that what you were doing was going to be all worth it at the end. It was only right that you were utterly exhausted.
Now suddenly, there’s this boy. He has the prettiest watercolor eyes you’ve even had the pleasure of admiring, the cutest dimples, a charming nose, most feathery lashes, pinkest lips, and above all; a heart of gold. You’ve been thrown the toughest battles—the kind you would’ve fought alone if it weren’t for Amelia and Roman—but the universe has rewarded you.
In the span of a month, Charles has completely won you over. From his boyish grin to his dominating smirk. There was just something about him that fell into place with you; like a puzzle piece. The Monegasque never failed to make you feel giddy all over, butterflies soaring freely inside your stomach.
Only now, there were a different type of eyes lurking back at you. Livid, you almost flinched at the thought of them turning red. Resentful, the kind you only thought you knew. Broken, like the glass plate laying at your feet.
But the worst had to be the betrayal, written all over them.
And you knew at that moment. This was the last and only summer.
-
“Wouldn’t it be scary if I just zip down because a shark bit my leg?” you ponder, gently threading through the tides. The green eyed boy tilts his head in amusement. If he hadn’t taken the time to understand your wild imagination, or dark humor, then he would’ve rolled his eyes and yawned. Instead, he slowly nudges your calf, lighthearted, droplets sliding down his face.
“Not so much as scary, but rather impossible. Sharks don’t swim near the Amalfi Coast.” You nod, though there’s a skeptical aura that lingers as you fix your snorkel. The brunette sneaks a loving glance, taking in your rosy state, scrunched nose when you swallow a gallon of sea salt water. He laughs. “You should keep an eye out for jellyfish, eh. Now those are a problem.”
“Jellyfishes and I are friends. They would never intentionally hurt me. C’mon, let's go back.”
The day had started early. Four fucking a.m. The Monegasque had hurled you out of bed, declaring that time was running out and he needed to spend all of it with you. The day prior, he had promised he would always text, call, and visit. It made your heart flutter and pounce all at the same time.
Hence, snorkeling. It was a fun and quick activity, so naturally you agreed with a killer pout as you squinted at the bright sun, despite it being the crack of dawn. Signaling to a glimmery oyster, you excitedly nod when he makes his way over. Once you reach the surface again, you clap with delight. “Can you open it for me?”
He doesn’t answer, but rather focuses his attention on snapping it wide. You can feel your eyes shimmer at the sight, an electrifying pearly white. Almost greedily, you pinch it in between your fingers, bringing it up to parade. “That is absolutely stunning. Oh my God, do you think I could turn it into a ring?”
His lips curl. “I’d say so.”
After that, you both settle into a comfortable silence. The sun was blazing hot at this point, and still there was a breeze. Just when your face would start to dry up, you would dip back in and beam at the Monegasque. He grins, crinkles, hugging the corner of his eyes. He allows himself to swoon when you wink up at the rays of sunshine. “So, I was thinking…”
“Mhm,” you murmur, orbs trained on your newly prize possession.
Nerves fill the brunette’s veins, sharp hands gently massaging his jaw, letting out a shaky breath. You furrow your brows, cocking your head to the side. Is everything alright? Charles sheepishly smiles. “Well, I, uh, was wondering…” He trails off when your lips wobble, hinting that you knew what this was all leading up to. “Would you like to go out on a date? With me,” he adds shyly.
“You were kind enough to seek me a gem,” you hum. “I would love to, Charles.”
“Wonderful,” he sighs in relief. “I-I-I know we sort of skipped a couple steps a few days ago,” he stutters anxiously. Your cheeks burn up at the reminder of him in between your legs. “So— but—I’m definitely glad that we’re able to—ouch!” he yelps in pain, teeth gritting. You fill up with panic, frantically eyeing the clear water.
“What? What?” you urge. “It’s a shark, isn’t it? I knew they would find a way!” The 26 year old barely had a chance to fill you in on what was really going on, but couldn’t really do much when you zoom out, popping the pearl into your mouth safely, floppy arms threading fast to the point that they became sore.
“There’s no—oh my word.” He grimaces, a painful expression mapped out as he, too, follows you out as quickly as he can. As he limps over to you, you scream, shiny jewel falling straight onto the ground.
“Charles, Charles, Charles.” Your stomach drops, fingers jittery, “There’s a jellyfish wrapped around your ankle…”
“You’re all caught up,” he grunts. “Get it off!”
You squeal when he lifts his leg up at you. “I can’t! Can’t you kick it off or something?”
He clenches his jaw, heavy pants filling the air. “And risk getting stung again? No, thank you. I drive for a living! I need this thing off.” He flings his leg and the transparent sea-creature disconnects, landing straight into the water. He stares back astonished and you simply laugh loudly and maniacally. You did it! “Yes, now pee on it.”
“Oh—hell no. What is this? A kink of yours?” Your nose scrunches up with clear disgust, as if you just caught a whiff of a baby’s diaper. Charles scowls. It’s supposed to help—do you think I want to do this? You gag, adamantly shaking your head. “No, no, I’ve read about this! We can add vinegar!” Briskly grabbing your essentials, you grip his wrist, already dragging him to his car.
He tears up—though, denies it—almost kicks you, and groans like a baby, but survives his injury. “Better?” Barely. Washing your hands, you share a stern glare. “At home remedies. Godsend.” He sulks deeper into his seat, wet hair trapping his face. Once you dry your hands, you plop down next to him, pecking his lips. “Grump.”
A beady eye pops open before snapping back shut. “I’d like to see you get stung.” You gasp theatrically, playfully swatting his shoulder. He chuckles, hauling you atop of him. You almost giggle like a teen, but manage to tune it out. “How ‘bout our date?”
“How about you rest? Cha, we can go out tomorrow.”
His bright eyes dim. “But we only have a few days left…”
Your mood comes crashing down as well, downcast eyes flickering like fireflies. “Then I should get ready, no?” His lips turn upward. “Meet me by the door in fifteen.”
It’s a rush, digging through your suitcase, trying to find the perfect dress, the perfect flats. You lose a good chunk of hair as you comb through it, due to the salty water, but manage. You briskly fly through your makeup routine, slather your body with perfume and lotion, and dash back downstairs, finding him already standing there.
Charles was at edge up until that moment. His tenseness slips away as soon as he sees you, looking as beautiful as ever. There’s a harsh tan going on, but even that makes you all the more breathtaking. He’s not too bad himself and you know it when you blush. From his linen navy blue shirt to his denim jeans, you swoon.
“You smell like honey,” he stammers. “You look lovely.”
“Grazie.” A beat. “You got a few new ones.”
He’s generally a cool guy, but you always strike him with some type of new feeling. He burns up, softly grazing his nose where a few freckles pop up. “That always happens when I’m out in the sun for too long. Ready?” You purse your lips, skipping towards him.
When you were eight, you had your first date. You suppose that really depends on how you see it. You mother had tried to become friends with a few ladies from the local book club and you always found yourself tagging along. Obligated, more so. His name was Joey and he had two missing teeth, so every time he spoke, a lisp would come through. It made you giggle cutely as you would lick your melted ice cream off your forearm. Eventually, your mother felt the right to storm out, pulling you away, and you never saw or heard of him again.
At eighteen, you had your last. You should've known from his name alone. James. He was tall, blond, a complete know-it-all, but he had noticed you. The crush slowly died the moment his eyes trailed to the next pretty girl, and the next, and the next.
Now, you’re mid-twenties and this feels like the right choice. He isn’t missing a row of teeth, he buys you ice cream and never once rushes you, he’s tall and proud, and has a set of chocolate curls. Most importantly, he has eyes for you and only you. It was as sweet as it could get.
“Can I ask you something?” Charles raises a brow, humming along. Twirling your pasta against the metal fork, you prop your chin on your palm. “What were you doing that day at the beach? Where we first met.”
Crimson red slashes his already burnt face as he chokes on his wine. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your perspective over me.” He drums his long fingers. “I was taking a nap.”
“Oh, well, I know that, but you were basically a goner!” You teasingly whistled. “I’m a curious little monkey, so please, enlighten me.”
The Monegasque tsks, relaxing his wide shoulders. He circles the restaurant instantly before leaning in across the table. “That day I was feeling particularly stressed. I was dealing with a lot of things and I don’t remember much after that. Except when a friend gave me a so-called magic potion.” He takes a sip to fix his dry throat. “Oh it did wonders, I tell you.” Absolute wonders, he mouths.
Your eyes widen. “Like…drugs?” you hiss, bewildered at the possibility. He cringes and nods, floppy hair bouncing. Your mouth forms a silent O, then nibble on your bottom lip, letting go. “I didn’t take you for a—”
“Me either.” You hear the sound of plates crashing down as you flinch and you both turn your attention to the apologetic waiter. The older couple look pissed, bitterly curse out the poor man, and blink as if they weren’t the vulgar ones. Charles rolls his eyes, then sighs. “I don’t think I could ever understand people like that.”
“Ruthless?”
“Took the words right out of my mouth. It’s ugly. Makes them look so out of touch with reality, which I suppose is true.” Green eyes flicker to the waiter once again before getting up to help. Tonight is really only the first time he’s gone out without his supposed disguise, so it’s obviously made your stomach flip at the thought of someone recognizing him.
Which they do.
“Charles Leclerc?” The accent is thick—and clearly Italian—as they step closer, phone already whipping out. The brunette turns, a lopsided smile drawn. “Holy shit! It’s really you! Can I please have a picture?” After a few minutes of chatter, the Monegasque excuses himself from the group, looking a bit suffocated.
“Being tackled in public? That’s what stresses you out, right?” His breath gets caught in his throat, but doesn’t make a move to shut the claim down. He answers by turning his attention to his lap. You sigh. “What did you take and who gave it to you?”
“You probably don’t even know him—Daniel. He’s quite the man, knows lots of people, and thought it would help. It did. Coke. I-it was my first and only try, I promise.”
You release a further breath. “You’re old enough to know your wrongs from rights. I trust you.” He eases up. “Doesn't mean you should rely on that.”
Charles looks up with a frown. “I feel like a fucking scumbag. I mean, does it make me a bad person to dread meeting fans sometimes? They’re always supporting me—it’s the least I could do.”
“You’re only human, Cha. You have your good and bad days. They would understand.” He shrugs, smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you remember what you told me that day you cooked that godforsaken meal?”
He nips the air. “You said it was delicious!”
You snicker, glad to see his humor coming back. “I lied. No, but you told me I had to stop pleasing everyone around me. Focus on myself. You said that. And I advise you to do the same.”
He’s heard this countless times. With Charlotte, which he only tuned out angrily, blaming her for not understanding his duties. Carlos, narrating how he of all people should understand. Pierre, smacking his head before walking away, already annoyed that too many people had tried to help, how he got called out on repeat. But with you, he simply nodded, somewhat agreeing. Not completely, but enough. That itself was a lot when it came to him and his stubbornness. Something inside of him told him he would do whatever you asked him to. It was a scary—liberating—feeling.
The last time he felt this was with…
A wave of realization slithers across his features. Charlotte. That last person he felt this familiar feeling was for Charlotte. And even then, their relationship felt foolish compared to anything he’s ever felt for you. There were sparks flying when you fluttered your doe eyes back at him, when you called him out on anything he does with a witty sense of humor…
He’s been fucked ever since the tiny ballerina kissed the hot-headed Stormtrooper.
“My words of wisdom are pretty clever,” he voices, smirking. “You’re right. I should focus more on myself.” Pause. “Thank you. For everything. For taking the time to get to know me. Not many bother these days.”
You want to cry at the gratitude written all over his handsome face, the sound of his disbelief, like a kid who genuinely thought they’d be picked last for a game of tag.
“You're very important to me, Charles.” You gently take his large hand into your smaller one. He stiffens. “You won’t ever forget that, right?”
“Not even if I try, no.” Then he presses a warm kiss onto your skin, and you feel him smile against it. “Anything you say or do would take me forever to overlook, to erase.” More pressure expands through your already firm chest, ragged breaths. “Something tells you’re a once in a lifetime type of person. How could I ever let that slip away?”
-
You excuse yourself in a flash, tears threatening to spill after his touch felt words. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more two-faced, he somehow squeezes your heart around his fist, and you deserve every ounce of shame, of guilt.
After a round of paper towels that you dab as harsh as soft Kleenex, you force a bright smile in the mirror, shooting a quick thumbs up and storming back out to your date.
The 26 year old was concerned about the hazy interaction, perturbed eyes blinking as you got up as if you had just seen the Devil himself, unbeknownst that you felt like one. He’s left anxiously waiting, tapping his shoes against the shiny tiles, leg bouncing up and down with anticipation. Cursing underneath his breath, he stands up and makes his way to the women's restroom. He receives a few baffled glances when he bolts down the hallway.
“Jesus Christ,” you yelp, finding Charles right in front of you when you swing the door open. His green eyes narrow like knives, carefully analyzing your pink nose, red rimmed eyes. “You scared me—”
“What did they say to you?”
You frown. “What are you talking about?”
His hands make their way up to cradle your face, thumbs grazing your temples. You raise a neat brow. “Did anyone follow you? See you? Were they rude? My fans aren’t normally like this, I promise they’re sweet, but if they did anything to you, I swear to God—”
Instantly shaking your head, you let out a nervous giggle. “No one said anything, don’t worry. I just really had to pee. Promise.”
This is what he was most afraid of when he first opened up to you, to go out in public. Charles was terrified at the image of your privacy being invaded, much like his. For hurtful words or actions to be aimed at you. And then you blink up at him with a sour expression because he knows you just cried, he obviously grew protective. Leaning down, he meekly kisses your forehead. “What’s wrong then? You hate me that much?” he jokes.
You bite back a smile. “Something like that. How about we go somewhere dear to us?”
-
Added to the torment of what you were feeling, you didn’t think things could get any worse—and yet.
Today. By today. Get it done.
Aghast, your delicate fingers come up to your berry lips, pinching at them nervously before biting down on your thumb, re-reading Eleanor’s message. Friday. You originally had until Friday. It’s only Wednesday. Sure, only a forty-eight hour difference, but still. You wanted to hold onto the most valuable time possible if you could. You try convincing her to change her mind, but it was a worthless battle. You knew once she had her mind set on it, then that’s exactly what had to happen.
By today.
You’re sobbing, panting, your vision is blurry as you type on your phone, angry as you fiddle against the tiny screen. Who could you really be mad at? Eleanor? No. Charles? No. The universe? Tempting, but no. It was all you. If you hadn’t mentioned having a possible exclusive for the sake of saving your job, then you wouldn’t be tangled in this mess.
You can’t go down that way, it’s ladies only!
I’m terribly sorry, but I have to check on my wife.
You recognize his urgent voice, deep and raw. His words aren’t true, but it fucks you up just the same. Hurrying to slip your phone back inside your purse, you quickly fix your appearance before opening the wide door, finding Charles mid-knock.
“Jesus Christ. You scared me.”
-
“Back where we started,” the green eyed boy chirps when he spots the tiny pub that sits atop of the hill. “It feels as if we were just here yesterday. This is fantastic.”
“I didn’t think you loved it that much,” you poke fun, bumping your hip against his. His watercolor eyes flicker to yours for a brief moment, then focusing back at the old shed.
“Things can surely change in the span of a month.”
The implication was as clear as daylight, but it only flew past your head as you enthusiastically ran up, smiling back at him. Nico is still there, serving drinks with a cheshire grin, when he spots you. “I remember you! How have you been, cara mia? Is Italy treating you well enough?”
You buzz, tippy toeing as you sheepishly try to spot the main reason you came back. “Oh, definitely. I think I might stay. Do you, um, happen to have—”
“Got it right here,” he says, gloved hand wrapping around the familiar liquid. You blush, ordering a round—bottle—and making your way back to the Monegasque. As soon as the tray hits your table, he throws a dubious stare, thanking the older man. “Huge fan, Mr. Leclerc.” He extends his Ferrari merch with a timid grin. “Do you mind?”
Charles returns the warm smile. “Not at all.” He signs away sloppily, but professionally. Nico zooms cheerfully, eager to boast out to his co-workers. You giggle. Very nice, very nice. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Does my kind gesture get me a kiss?”
“We’ll see,” you mumble, looking away before he spots your pink cheeks.
He sighs dramatically. “Do you really think it’s for the best if you drink this crap again? Do you remember the last time you had a sip?”
“I’ll go easy. This shit is good.” Throwing your head back, you gulp down the sweet alcoholic drink, eyes squeezing tightly before you huff. “Exactly. Try some.” The brunette does, but steady, a careful eye always lingering onto you. You don’t get drunk this time—rather tipsy. You tell yourself it's because you don’t want to wake up with a killer headache tomorrow, but you know that’s far from the truth. It’s simple. You just didn’t want to forget the last moments you had with him.
His adoration would only last so long.
Clicking your phone open, you clumsily had it over to him. Record me. He huffs, but amusement colors his orbs. “Here we go again…” You snicker playfully, marching over to the lady at the piano. You’re back, she pronounces.
“I am.” You laugh. “Do you happen to play guitar?”
She shakes her head sadly before lighting up. “But Nico does. Nico!” she screams as the man rushes over. “You play song for pretty girl standing right here?” Volentieri, he chirps, looking for his rusty instrument. After a bit of discussion, you twirl back, walking to the center stage.
“I can still recall, our last summer. I still see it all.” Charles laughs, throwing his head back like a little kid as he reminds himself to keep your phone steady. “Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain. Our last summer, memories that remain.”
The guitar is a lone act, but fills up the room as if there were a band. Occasionally, the keys of the broken piano fill the room as you smile gently. From the way you dance to the way you smile, Charles lives for every moment, taking in your happiness.
You should have seen the foreshadowing. The song. The plates that crashed during dinner. The stare. It was all laying right out in front of you, and you stupidly chose to ignore it until it was too late.
“Our last summer, walking hand in hand…” You trail off the moment his eyes turn dark, furrowing to the screen then back to you, as if trying to come up with a possible explanation. He stands up abruptly, chair squeaking so loud that everyone’s heads turn to look. “No,” you whisper in disbelief when he walks out, leaving you like an open love letter.
“No, no, no, no, no.” Flying down the stairs, you trip a couple of times, concerned glances shared between Nico and the older lady. None of it matters as you run after Charles.
Anger must give you wings because he’s long gone when you reach the open air. Dirt crunches underneath your heels as you desperately try to catch a sign that he’s around. When he’s not, you instantly call a cab, rudely directing him to your shared Airbnb.
-
He loves you; he's sure of it the moment you tuck a strand of hair behind your jeweled ear, slightly hesitant as you try to refresh Nico’s mind over what song you wanted. He even practices a few strings before winking over at you.
He knows it the moment you reach a certain note that makes your voice crack, smiling shyly, giggling through your singing.
And you loved him all too late.
Draft is perfect. Green light, publish it. We can talk about your promotion when you get back. Congratulations. Hard work really does pay off.
He recognizes the name as soon as it blares across your screen, still recording you, spinning across the stage without a care in the world. He feels inanely invasive when he clicks on the email, but pushes the feeling away with the fact that this appeared to be good news, and was there really any harm to that?
Charles Leclerc: The Man Behind the Helmet.
He reads through, spotting your name swiftly.
Sat down with him…
High on the beach—a desperate tactic to release some much needed stress during the off season…
Golden pin, prancing horse. Gifted from the late, Hervé Leclerc…
Fearful of what’s to come once Hamilton enters the picture later in 2025…
He’s skimming but it’s enough for him to wonder if he’s experiencing true headache right now. Your voice cuts off, turning pale as you blink back at him. Fury enters his veins as he storms out, not caring about what you must think. He hears you chasing after him, but manages to climb into the first cab he sees.
What he hates the most is that he still feels like a complete idiot for leaving you behind. For marching out without a single word.
For being so stupid.
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[20:08]
Tags: Choi Seungcheol x Fem! Reader, established relationship, facesitting, overstimulation, praise (f. and m. receiving), piv sex without a condom for the first time, dirty talk, petnames, breeding kink if you squint and creampie.
I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.
Your fingernails bite into the wood of your headboard already in anticipation. While you try to be cautious as you lower yourself onto Seungcheol's face, your boyfriend has other plans in mind. Years of hard work paying off as he uses his strength to grab your thighs and all but shoves his face into your slick folds.
"Cheol," you choke out, your thighs already shuddering under his unrelenting hold when his plump lips wrap around your swollen clit and suck. You suppose these months apart haven't been easy for him either but, he seems determined to sear your taste onto his tastebuds. High-pitched moans and keens of his name leaving your well-kissed lips while he hungrily laps at you. Alternating between licking your clit and chasing the taste of your wetness that's no doubt smeared a good portion of his face by now.
Seungcheol is a determined man. It's simply in his nature. It is no surprise that facet of his personality bleeds into your bedroom as well. Despite the more than likely present ache in his jaw and a lack of oxygen, he remains latched onto your clit. Using the knowledge he's collected over the course of your relationship to bring you closer and closer to your climax. Strong hands digging into your ass, guiding you along his tongue and face. Making sure he's able to reach every bit of you he can.
"Cheol I- I'm so close- please I-," you moan out, reaching one of your hands down to grab his blonde locks. God, this colour looks so good on him. It looks even better peaking out between your shaky thighs. Your words only serve as motivation for him. The vibrations from his noises of pleasure tightening the knot in your core, your slick walls clenching and unclenching periodically.
A few firm laps of his tongue are what ultimately cause the proverbial knot to unwind. Seungcheol keeps you firmly pinned to him as shudders overrun your body. Your hands harshly clutching at his hair and your headboard. If your hold hurts, he doesn't show it. Choosing instead to drag you higher up his face so he can lick up your release, his nose brushing your hypersensitive clit all the while. Your moans quickly shift to pitchy whimpers. Your thighs locking around Seungcheol's head but, he remains unbothered.
"Ch-Cheol," you cry out while he continues. Strangled gasps leaving your crumpled body from the sting of overstimulation beginning to set in. Any unconscious attempts to move away from his mouth are thwarted easily. His hold on your thighs remains steady as he hurls you into another orgasm at breakneck speed.
Your second orgasm barrels into significantly faster than your first. A few stray tears falling from your eyes and streaking your overheated face. Fortunately, he seems to be feeling merciful this time around. Parting from your drenched folds with a gentle kiss before easing his hold on you. With all the minimal energy you have left, you heave yourself off of his face and flop down beside him. Both of your frantic breathing all that can be heard in your bedroom.
Your eyes are shut but, your ears pick up on him shuffling beside you. If you had the capacity, you'd crack your eyes open to watch him do whatever he's doing, you would but, you're too preoccupied with regaining feeling below your waist.
"Are you okay?" He rumbles against the side of your face. Nuzzling into you and planting kisses wherever he can reach.
"Barely," you mutter into your pillow, reveling in his affections.
You quite literally just came but, you still feel yourself throb when he laughs. It's just so deep and attractive and him. You really can't be faulted.
"It's not my fault my girlfriend has such a delicious pussy," he says, dragging his fingers lightly over your folds prompting a few tremors down your spine and you few weak whines from your lips, "And I haven't had it for a whole two months. Can you really blame me?"
You suppose you can't when the feeling is more than mutual.
"No," you mutter, pressing into his touch, "Oh and, I'm okay. I just needed a minute."
"Understandable," he muses and you can practically hear the grin in his voice. He let's out a frustrated huff as he rubs your thigh, "I'm so annoyed that I didn't think to bring condoms before coming here," he grumbles, "I mean I know we could still do other things but, I really wanted to feel you, y'know."
"You still could."
His hand pauses on your thigh.
Gathering all the confidence you can muster, you open your eyes to find his handsome face morphed in unadulterated shock. You would giggle if your heart wasn't thundering against your chest, "We have been dating for close to a year now," you say, taking pride in your voice only trembling marginally, "I'd be okay with it if you are. You know I'm on the pill anyway, so..." You trail off.
Seungcheol looks like he can't quite believe his ears. His big brown eyes blinking at you owlishly as he processes your words. Before you can stew in your anxiety for a beat two long, he leans in to kiss you. The angle is a little awkward but, you couldn't care less. Your release is the first taste that hits your tongue. A little salty but, not unpleasant. You briefly wonder if it's a little narcissistic to get aroused from your own taste.
"You're trying to fucking end me," he groans against your mouth.
"I'll take this as a yes then," you laugh breathlessly.
"Like I'd ever say no to that. Are you kidding me?" He mutters, sounding partially affronted with a pout, "I need you to roll over for me, baby," he gently commands. The whiplash he gives you is so disorienting something but, you comply nonetheless when he gives you some room. Making yourself comfortable on your pillows, drinking in the sight of his pinkened lips and miles of bare muscle. Your walls clamping viciously when your eyes land on the outline of his heavy cock through his sweats.
Two months really has felt like a lifetime.
Typically, he'd tease you for staring at him so blatantly, but tonight is about as atypical as they come. Instead, he opts to hurriedly tug his boxers and sweats down his firm thighs. You swallow thickly watching his cock bob a little in the space between the two of you. Still as girthy and long as the last time you saw it but, flushed an angry red this time.
"If I had more patience, I'd fuck that pretty mouth of yours," he says, shooting you an impish grin before focusing his attention between your thighs as he shuffles closer to you and grabs himself.
"That'll have to wait for later though," he mutters, his voice dark with arousal as he coats himself in your wetness with a few lazy strokes along your slit. He's completely enamoured with the sight of himself parting you. You can't blame him but, you're too busy moaning out with every bump of his tip along your clit.
"Seungcheol please," you whine, weakly arching into him to meet his thrusts, "I want you inside of me please."
"Well, when you sound so cute and ask so nicely, how can I say no?" You know he has no intention of waiting for a response, and the praise only adds to the fuzzy state of your mind. Your eyes roll into the back of your head when he very slowly begins to push into you. While the feeling of your bare walls is otherworldly and he'd love nothing more than to sink into you in one go, he knows he's a lot for you to take. Especially after so long.
Your nails rake his broad back with every centimetre of himself he eases into you. You're more than wet enough to take him, but God, he's just so big that you just need a few moments to adjust to the sting of being stretched by him. At least you're able to just take him from the get-go now. You remember all those weeks of him having to use his fingers to stretch out first and how, in hindsight, you'd come to appreciate them when faced with the real thing when he thought you were finally ready.
"You're doing so well, baby," he whispers, watching your face carefully for any signs to stop, "You're taking me so well. Like you always do." He litters your neck with kisses to help distract you from the mild discomfort, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your thighs.
"You're so big," you babble out, your eyes fluttering when his nudges the sensitive part of your walls with ease. You don't even think he really meant to but, the sensation is enough to rip desperate keens from you and dig your nails harder into his back. More of your wetness gushing out of you to help ease his glide, leaking down your ass.
"Yeah?" He breathes with a small laugh, "I'm big huh. Did you miss my big cock, baby?"
"Yes," you cry out when he finally bottoms out and, it's a lot. It might even be too much if you're being truthful with yourself. It's never felt like this. You think you might really be able to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. His tip is nestled so deeply inside of you that overwhelmed tears spring to your eyes just from that alone.
"Fuck," he groans gutturally into your shoulder, his hands digging into your thighs and pressing them further against your chest, "Fuck. Shit. Fuck, baby, you're so tight and wet," he moans, his body practically vibrating with how much he's holding himself back from moving.
"Cheol," you whimper, "Cheol, move please. I'm okay. You-You can move. Please move," the words rush out of you so quickly that you're not even sure they're coherent but, he seems to hear you all the same. Your back arches borderline painfully when he pulls out of you until his fat tip is all that's left inside of you before thrusting back in.
You clutch him tighter to you, not caring in the slightest about the burn in your thighs from the way he has you folded. You just want to feel as much of him as you can. You need to. He happily complies, allowing you to tug him closer as he slowly finds his rhythm. His cock dragging deliriously along your wet walls.
"I missed you," he grits against your jaw before pulling you into a messy, uncoordinated kiss. It's more so the two of you moaning into each other than anything else but, you'll happily take it. Especially when his cock splits you open so deliciously.
"Missed you too," you whimper into his mouth, a cry of his name echoing throughout your bedroom as he finds that spot against your walls again. Using that knowledge to his advantage, he angles his hips a little so his heavy cock hits it with every thrust. You thought you were already well-worn for the night but, you can feel another orgasm building.
"You have no idea how much I've thought about fucking you like this," he grunts out between precise thrusts, "Feeling you bare around my cock. Fuck. You're better than I could've ever imagined, baby." He covers every part of he can reach with kisses, his own noises of pleasure vibrating against your skin, "My pretty baby with this fucking amazing pussy. Can't wait to fill you with my cum."
You have a stronger reaction to those words than you anticipated. Your walls gripping him like a vice, his name all your jumbled mind is able to say right now interspersed with moans that are a concerning volume. You just hope your neighbours can't hear you right now.
"Does my baby like the idea of me cumming inside of her huh?" He teases, "Do you love the idea of being so filled with me that it's leaking out of you for days?"
All you can think to do is nod frantically. Your hands clutching at his muscular shoulders as his pace picks up considerably. The lewd squelching of your wetness and his heavy balls slapping against your ass joining the chorus of sounds in your bedroom.
"God, always such a needy good girl for me," he grits out, "Your pussy's so good. Gonna make me cum so hard," and that might be the closest you've ever heard your boyfriend come to a whimper. Not that you can blame him. You can very easily see yourself growing addicted to feeling him like this. Maybe waiting two months does have its merits in some aspects.
"Cheol," you heave out through your laboured breathing, "Please, please I want it. I want you to cu-cum inside me. I need it, Cheol please," you beg him, drinking in the way his pretty face contorts in pleasure and his eyes grow glossy at your words. His thick cock twitching inside of you more incessantly than before.
"I love you."
And that is what ultimately pushes him over the edge. He slots his mouth firmly against yours, moaning into your bruised lips as his cock jerks inside of you. Painting your walls white with seemingly endless ropes of his thick, sticky cum. Having been teetering on the edge from the moment he sunk into you fully, it's no surprise that your third orgasm slams into as he cums inside of you. Seungcheol groans weakly into you from the sensation of your walls milking him for even more of whatever he has left to offer.
Your thighs are a mess of his spit and your combined orgasms. All of it more than likely smearing your inner thighs and trickling onto your sheets. Your poor pussy sensitive and still spasming from everything he put you through tonight. Seungcheol eventually sags on top of you. Nuzzling into your neck while the two of you come back from whatever layer of the ozone you floated up to.
"Maybe being apart for so long isn't all bad," he jokes against your skin.
"You're just saying that because you're stilling riding off the high of cumming inside of me. I remember a certain someone pouting for week about not being able to see me or touch me."
"Fair point," he concedes sheepishly.
AN: I wrote this while very sleepy and in love with Cheol so, not making any promises on quality lol. I did really want to write something for his birthday though. Happy birthday to the other love of my life.
Reblogs are greatly appreciated.
Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.
#choi seungcheol smut#seungcheol smut#s.coups smut#scoups smut#s coups smut#seventeen smut#choi seungcheol x reader smut#seuncheol x reader smut#s.coups x reader smut#scoups x reader smut#s coups x reader smut#seventeen x reader smut
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part four
—other parts
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader
words: 2.8k
tags: death. blood. zombies of course. lowkey cannibalism implication. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers.
summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.
a/n: i'll try to get the next part quicker. my grandma wasn't doing well this past week but she is all good now~
Your fingers are decisive. You slot an arrow on the bowstring and release. It drives through the air with a silent whirl. Your aim is far from the best— it buries into the man’s shoulder rather than his skull.
The revolver falls from his grip and skitters across the ground. Your lips part to warn Blue, to tell her to pick it up before he can, but now his eyes point wildly in your direction.
An inhumane snarl rips through him. He is withered by hunger, aged beyond his true years. Matted hair and leathery skin. Still, he moves quick. He doesn't bother picking up the gun. Something animalistic drives him towards you. You find yourself unable to breathe. This isn’t what you expected. You fumble for another arrow, but as you try to get it on the string, it slips from your hand.
You are fucked.
The realization splinters your bones with adrenaline. It takes only a few blurred seconds for him to reach you. A weight greater than your own shoves you to the ground and your bow is knocked out of your grip. A human stench fills your nose as your arms flail around to keep a snapping mouth from reaching your cheek, your neck, your nose. Close combat is not a skill you’ve mastered. You have rarely needed it. Range weapons and retreating have been the tactics to shape your survival so far.
You can’t hear much besides his growling. You think you hear Blue shout. Blood pulses thick in your veins. You can’t think. A knife— you have that, but it’s in your coat pocket. His body is pressed against it and moving an arm to grab it could be enough for your fragile defense to crack.
It feels like you are being attacked by a dog, one with ribs that poke out and teeth that flash viciously.
Only when he pulls out his own knife does an idea occur to you. There is still the wooden arrow sticking out from his shoulder. It nearly pokes you in the face from all the movement. You wrap a hand around the base of it and snap the wood. You stab the splintered arrow into the first part of him you can reach - his torso. It doesn't stop him. Crazed eyes narrow. His blade goes for your neck but you block it. It cuts through the sleeve of your coat, earning you a gash to the plush of your forearm instead.
“Fuck,” you hiss, and tears prickle. Where is Blue? Maybe she could get—
The man is on top of you, and then he isn’t.
The weight is lifted, and the snarling ceased.
Through stinging eyes, you make out the shape of a dark shadow against the grey sky. There is an abrupt sound - the crack of bone. A snapped neck. The man’s head is bent haphazardly to the side before it rolls forward, limp and silenced. You breathe heavily through lungs that hurt.
A growl.
This is one you are familiar with.
But the arrival of it offers, for the first time, a sense of relief.
Your gaze slides over the form of broad shoulders and thick arms that toss the dead body to the side with ease. With the view from where you lay, Ghost looks even taller. Blue is dwarfed by him as she approaches his side, her eyes widened with concern more than fear.
She must have called for him. Or maybe he heard the snarling and rushed over.
Although you are the one laying on the ground, freshly attacked, she is the one he checks. Ghost touches a gloved hand to her cheek, moving his eyes to sweep over her.
“You alright?” he asks, firm yet gentle. “Did he hurt you?”
She gives a dismissive shake of her head. Then, it is she who bends down to help you up. It is a feeble attempt with only a child’s arm as your crutch. Your body feels like it’s been pillaged of energy. The wound on your arm is not nearly as bad as what their caltrops did to you, but it is enough to make you choke in pain.
“Fuckin’ hell," Ghost mumbles, before he gets the job done right by scooping you up. Only for a short moment are you in his strong arms, before he plants you on your feet.
"Did you know him?"
You press your palm over the gash, applying pressure over the oozing blood. Through tight teeth, you utter, “No.”
“Were there other camps in your area?”
You stand there bleeding, and he is interrogating you?
“I-I think so. Yes. One or two.”
He speaks under his breath, more to himself than to either of you. “Maybe he had to run, too, huh? Crazy fuck.” He roughly taps a boot to the side of the man’s body, inspecting it without care for its corpse. He glances around the trees for a short moment. Then, he looks back at you.
“Can you walk?”
It is less caring and more practical.
Can you?
“Yes,” you tell him, nodding lazily. Your eyes roll to the ground, having to watch each step of your boots to keep them moving steadily.
The walk back to camp is silent. Before you leave, Blue fetches the fallen revolver in the snow and gives it to him. Ghost discovers only one bullet in it. He carries the bow for you. You keep hold over the gash, hand soaked red.
At one point, a small hand brushes against your free one until her father grabs it and tugs her back to his side.
Everything feels like a blurred dream. Your brain decides to block out any thoughts of who that person was and where they came from. More importantly, what he could’ve done to you or Blue.
By the time you’ve made it to the cabin, you can’t recall what time of day it is. The boarded windows block out most light except a few stray strips. Ghost turns on a dim lamp.
To your surprise, he instructs you to sit on the couch and disappears for a moment before returning with his medical kit, which you have been a patient of once already.
This time, you are awake for it. Blue stands near the couch. He pulls a stool beside you. You shuck off your coat and roll up your soaked sleeve to reveal the gash that runs from the middle of your forearm to the knob of your elbow.
You know it could have been worse. If the blade had nicked bone, you’d be howling right now.
“Wet a cloth for me, Blue.”
She does so.
You twist your shoulder to offer the wound to him. Rough fingertips dab the damp cloth to the area and you roll your lips. You try to look at the wall to distract yourself, but find your gaze shifting to your nurse. He is a pragmatic one. All you can see are ashen lashes that line firm, shadow-cast eyes. Warmth rolls off his body in billows.
He puts the cloth down and rummages around for a needle and one of the rolls of black thread.
Before he can pierce the first stitch, his daughter’s soft voice stops him.
“Ghost,” she murmurs to break the silence. She walks over to the kit and grabs a small tube. Antiseptic, you believe. “You… You forgot this.”
His eyes lift from your arm and he looks back at her. There is a silent language they share. You’ve acted as a witness to it a few times now. You are not fluent in it, but with the way Blue’s brows furrow together, you have an idea of what he is trying to remind her of.
He is willing to offer the stitches.
You’ve spotted at least two rolls of the stuff.
But the antiseptic isn’t for you this time.
None of their medicine is for you.
“It might get infected,” she argues against his stare, her voice congealing into something firmer. She studies him.
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” he tells her lowly.
“She saved my life, Dad.” She grips the tube in one hand. With the other hand, she rubs the heel over her eyes. “That guy went after her because she… she protected me.”
You stare at the shorn rug, finding a distraction in the worn threads of red and blue. This conversation thickens the air.
Blue continues, words pushed out in a ramble now, “I didn’t even see him there. I wasn’t,” and her eyes drift to the floor before she admits, “I wasn’t aware of my surroundings, okay? But she saw him and she helped me. That is why he—”
“And how many times have we helped her?” he interrupts harshly.
He is either unconvinced of your role as a savior or doesn’t particularly care, not when it means sharing vital resources. He hadn’t witnessed the whole thing. It all happened so fast.
“We can help her more,” his daughter insists. “We can make sure she doesn’t get an infection.”
Ghost’s voice travels a notch louder, “Then that is one less time we can make sure you don’t get an infection.”
You can remember this type of tone - your own father used it a few times on you as a kid, but never did it carry the weight of life or death. Your arguments usually involved doing your homework or eating an extra sweet after dinner. For Ghost and Blue, most of their disagreements are about survival and mercy.
He turns to face his daughter fully. “Do you understand?”
“I just think—"
“Look at me,” Ghost says. There is no room here for her to bicker with him. “Do you understand?”
She meets his gaze under lashes that flutter hesitantly, casting shadows across her pale temples. With a swallow, Blue quietly answers, “I do.”
She puts the ointment back.
He stitches you up.
You bite your palm to keep silent.
Sleep evades you.
You jolt up against the floorboards when you hear the shed’s door creak open.
“Just me.”
With the light of a small flashlight, her eyes glisten. You sit up, spine sore. You didn’t eat dinner tonight; you hadn’t managed anything during your short-lived hunt, and you didn’t dare to ask for food. You didn’t think it was a good idea to further test Ghost’s generosity.
“Hey,” you give her a small smile. “It’s late.”
“I know.” She carries something in her other hand - a lumpy pillow. She sits down on the floor of your shed and you scoot your legs over so she can have space. “Ghost said I could give you this. Something to sleep on.”
“Oh, thanks.” You can’t help it, the words leave dryly: “He’s so generous.”
A look passes over her illuminated face - something apologetic, something wary. She looks down at the pillow in her hands and runs a hand over the fabric.
“I asked if you could sleep inside now,” she says quietly, sighing. “He said it’s a bad idea. You could steal our stuff and whatnot.”
“That’s okay. The pillow will help a lot. And—” you wave a hand around, “Kind of like my own hotel room here.”
“Maybe we could decorate it.” Blue looks around. “At least, in the spring when the flowers come back. There are these really pretty white ones by the pond."
You want to tell her you’re not sure if you will be here that long. Instead, you tell her, “Maybe.”
“I wanted to say thank you,” she then says. Her hair is still in the braids, but a few wisps have slipped out. Blue toys with one of them thoughtfully. “You really did save my life today, huh?”
“You’ve saved mine before."
Probably more than once.
She nods. She seems deep in thought, and the color of her eyes appears less youthful than usual. You really didn’t need to think twice about protecting her. A child’s life - her future - means more than whatever awaits you, anyway.
“Ghost always says that the only person you can trust is yourself,” she mutters into the small space. “What do you think?”
“I think he’s right. I think that being careful with who you trust is smart.”
“Do you trust me?” whispers Blue.
“A little bit.”
You can’t trust her fully. She still has a higher power to answer to, despite her innocent intentions.
It is then that Blue flips the pillow over. Her hand slips under the faded, cotton case of it and reaches for something hidden inside— what you now realize to be the cause for the lump at the bottom. What she digs out and reveals to you in the palm of her hand has your breath catching in your throat. The tube of antiseptic.
“I can’t,” you choke after a beat of silence.
Moisture dallops the rims of your eyes. You don’t know why; this kind gesture feels foreign, inviting a strange weight to your chest.
“Blue... thank you, but I can’t.”
“You can,” she says and begins to untwist the top. “You had my back, and I have yours. I don’t want your arm to get infected.”
But your hand reaches to cover hers, halting the removal of the top and pushing the tube closer to her chest, away from you.
“Ghost will notice,” you explain. “And then you will get in trouble and he will make me leave, alright? Thank you, but I can’t.”
“Just a little,” she insists in a hushed voice. “He won’t notice if I put it right back.”
With great reluctance, you move your hand away and let her continue. Even just a little could be enough to save you from a nasty infection, and it’s not like you have antibiotics. If you did get an infection, you’d have to take the treacherous journey to a pharmacy and hope that there is still something left on the shelves. You’re not confident that you are in strong enough shape yet to survive a trip like that.
You shrug off your coat.
You’d rinsed out your shirt and dried it by the fireplace before retreating to your shed. Lifting up the cleaned sleeve, you reveal the gash sealed with sutures. The ridge of it is a swollen range of ugly mountains against the rest of your unblemished forearm.
With soft fingertips, she dabs some on. You swallow and offer another thank you.
When she is done, you lower the sleeve and rub at your damp eyes.
“I will put a liiiiittle more on tomorrow night, too. Just a little,” she tells you, and the youth sparkles back in her irises. She gives you the pillow. She puts the tube in her coat pocket this time. Not as great of a hiding place but you hope she knows what she is doing.
Before Blue leaves you to sleep, she tells you:
“I trust you a little bit, too, you know.”
a/n: more sweet papa ghost in the next one i promise :)
taglist: @cool-0-n @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09 @spikespiegell @littlezarp @rebel-soldat @4headkissess @mckenzieriley69 @moxxiestar @palomaxaxaxa @msjaeger @galacticstxrdust @anubiseqq @l-0-v-3-r-z @kakashiislut @a-queen-blr @random0lover @hehatesmati @ghost-with-a-teacup @konigbabe
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost#zombies#zombie apocolypse au#cod#call of duty#fanfiction
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CARNAL / 7 : RUIN
Chapter 6 / Masterlist
Summary: 4.5k, f!reader, dark!joel, dbf!joel, try and mess with my birdie again!joel
Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, violence! guns, cum eating, car sex, dominate & aggressive joel, ANGSTTTT
A/N: This is officially the penultimate chapter. The amount of love I’ve been shown over and over again has been so overwhelmingly beautiful, and it all started with Birdie and Joel. I am so thankful for each and every one of you. I’m so nervous to end this. What if it isn’t what you wanted or expected? What if I miss them too much? I guess that’s the point, that love hurts.
But we both know how it goes– I say I want you inside me and you hold my head underwater, I say I want you inside me and you split me open with a knife.
°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *
You huffed at Joel, thinking he wasn’t really asking you to lick his cum from another man’s seat. His demeanor changed, “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweet girl.”
You looked around his face and settled on his drooping bottom lip before he took it between his teeth. “Joel.” A half-whispered and hidden word. You’ve never been able to fill the room with his name the way you want to, the way he fills you, always sneaking away from the crowd and having to whisper it into the palm of his hand– whispering it into the coarse hair at the base of his cock.
He clawed at your ass, making the fat rumble in your soft skin, the slap echoing into the golden hour around the both of you. The streetlights were dim but becoming brighter as the sun sunk and the inevitable end of the party approached. None of the chatter from the backyard mattered, the dog barking a couple of houses down, cars passing a couple streets over. He mattered. You had waited so long to be seen by him again. To be prayed to. To be drooled over. Even the sound of his deeper breathing made the air feel electric. Like breathing it again, mattered.
You felt like a fucking animal that needed to be leashed to the corner of a heavy table. It took you a while to understand why your body takes over when you’re around him— his depravity was familiar. You saw yourself in him, and that consisted of you both wordlessly pushing down emotions and fucking them out of each other instead, molding into one another in a release of anger, tears, lust. This is how you bond, fucking each other to scare off the elephant in the room. Fucking yourselves when you coulnd’t reach one another.
When his hands were upon you, he was paying attention to you, and Joel paid attention to what made you nearly weep under the weight of his want. It was a fine physical partnership, mostly because whatever he wanted became what you wanted. A blurred line between want and need in Joel-shaped bruises in your fat.
His big, brown eyes were gracing your body, searching, as if he was looking for any sign that another man had been here. You stick your tongue out and stare at him before digging your nose into John’s seat, your breath hitting the leather as you slide your tongue through his cum. You would do anything to make him happy. He knows that. He loves this.
You want him to love you.
He does.
You gag.
Quietly, you reminded Joel that you were in someone else's truck.
“Gotta go back before someone comes out here. Don’t want John to catch us, Joel.”
He scoffed.
“Wish he fucking would. Then he could see me buried in my pretty pussy.”
You could see Joel behind you, blocked slightly as you hear his cock hit his stomach and he sighs in relief, his veiny length thick and unshy. He whimpered as he slid his wide thumb across his wet tip. His half-breath grumbles were what made your slick drip down your swollen and still-quivering lips.
He bent down and pulled your lips apart, whispering into you, “Look at her, cryin’ for me.” He was a man starved. The cold of the night disappeared as his tongue did the same into you, loud and vile as he sucked around your entire propped up center, not missing one inch of skin inside or out. The feeling of his mustache moving with his lips as he sucks on you, tickles you, is too much. You come on his beard, flattened to his face, messy and wet from devouring you.
“Doin’ s’good, cleaning up Daddy’s mess n’ letting him clean you up, too.” He stretched his palm across your head and pressed your tongue and nose into his cum once again. And you let him.
Joel heard a car unlock and his hand was immediately pulling your hair knotted in his knuckles backward, your face pulling up from the leather seat with force, startled that he might get caught. For Joel to be caught at the scene of his crimes? That was unheard of.
You heard the zip of his pants before his hands were back on you, warm, and pulling down your dress in a hurry. His thumb missed at first, dipping into your mouth before moving across your lower lip, trying to smudge the spend away that was still dripping down your chin. With one hand entangled in your hair and his other smeared with his cum, he did what he had to do, leaning into you as he licked himself off of your chin seconds before it dripped between your breasts.
He growled at the taste of himself mixed with your skin. Soft, salty. Carnal. Unintentional, like his body forced it outwards because it was too heavy to carry alone. Like even he was slightly surprised at what he’d just done. But it’d been months since your skin was between his teeth, and he’d trace every bulging vein down your neck with his tongue if you would just call his name, Joel Joel Joel.
There was silence, birds chirping in the trees, and another pair of cowboy boots knocking against the pavement. You knew that cadence well, they sounded just like the ones currently gracing Joel’s feet.
“Miller!” You jumped at the intense intrusion and then tried to relax your shoulders before they swallowed your ears and gave away your guilt.
A man walked towards the both of you as Joel pushed your body away from him, discreetly but not gentle enough as you tried to regain your standing. You didn’t know the man’s name but he was usually at these backyard parties. How many middle-aged men live in this fucking neighborhood?
“Be careful sweetheart, can’t have you falling. Don’t wanna have to carry you back in there to your daddy with a busted knee.” Too many.
You opened your mouth to tell this man that your daddy wouldn’t give a fuck. The person who would is the one standing right next to you.
Joel huffed, then coughed. A warning. The man moved topics quickly as if he vaguely understood.
“Haven’t seen you around the shop recently, Hana’s been asking where you’ve been.” His attention returned to Joel.
“Hana?” You scoffed, out loud. You were out of place and awkward, standing smaller than both of them. This conversation was meant for the men.
“‘Must be one of Sarah’s friends! Haven’t seen ya around and Hana knows so many people it’s hard to keep up sometimes.”
What a proud father.
I wonder how entitled he would be to share that information if he knew that Hana was once (probably not shy of ten times actually, knowing anything about Joel) speared on his wet cock instead of babysitting, as she had most likely claimed? You wonder if he knows that Joel’s cock has been buried inside of your warmth, too. A few minutes ago, actually. With the way you are both standing, hidden by a truck door, missing from the party for nearly twenty minutes.
“I’ve just been keeping my head down Drew, working, you know. But I’ll drop by soon, I need to fix a broken toilet in the upstairs bathroom and I need a flange replacement.”
“Well we’re always open for you Joel, you know that. Don’t be a stranger.” With that, he looked between the two of you and you swore recognition flashed in his eyes before he patted Joel on the shoulder and walked towards your back gate.
I wonder if he knows, you thought. Men tend to stay quiet for each other like that. Having each other's backs regardless of it means choosing him over your own daughter. Especially if it means keeping it out of the public eye. It’s easier to call your daughter a liar than to deal with the ‘consequences’ of her reality.
“Not the only thing that’s always open it seems.” You mumbled, immediately hoping that he didn't hear it. How utterly unfeminist of you to blame the girl. You weren’t any different than her; enamored, prayed to… paid. But it seems like he brings out the worst in you. But being the worst is better than whatever empty shell has been dragging its way through whatever the fuck these past twenty-something years have been.
You have the crashing realization that you feel alive with him. The blood coursing through your body has purpose, now.
As soon as the top of the man’s head disappeared through the fence, Joel started in on you. Best to put a child in their place before they have a chance to speak and form a conclusion of their own, no? You recognized the bad in him, yet you still let it devour you.
“This what you wanted, Birdie? For people t’ know? Dropping little hints like it’s your fuckin’ job, huh? First you make sure I walk in on whatever the fuck was going on with John… knew I’d be back there so you knocked on the neighbor's door and asked him to fuck you with his eyes in front of your family? In front of me?” Pointing at his stuffed chest. He was so much taller than you but it wasn't something you thought of often until he towered over you. You knew there was more to this than a random man and a disgusted accidental namedrop of his previous fuck toy.
“Then…” he looked around, trying to gain composure before scolding you like a child, ”then you make me come out here and lose myself in you again?”
“Make you? You fucking followed me out here, Joel.”
“Lower your goddamn voice, Birdie. I came out here because I knew you wanted me to.”
He was right. About all of it. You can’t be alone for long. You need something or someone there sitting just on the outside to remind you that you aren’t dissipating into the floor of your bedroom.
Maybe that’s why you never saw Joel coming, either, because the quicksand was already up to your knees and no one in your life ever taught you how to save yourself, they had only taught you that they would not be the ones to pull you to safety. You knew you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, either.
The way he sticks to you makes you feel taken care of and looked after. He treats you like a woman in need of guidance, but he never judges you for it. Unless he’s scolding you, in that case you feel like a child again. It feels nice to feel like a child around him, because you know that in one way or another he will hold you like one too, once it’s all said and done.
Then he wasn’t anywhere to be found. So of course you did what you know, offering your body to whomever would most closely fill the Joel-shaped hole. You hoped that he would be here to see that you had indeed found another man, and this one could stand before your family. Now, Joel is standing right in front of you. It’s been months… and you hate him. You hate him so bad that the hate has turned to love.
You love him.
“Yes Joel, I want you. I need you. I have needed you this whole time you were probably off filling some other twenty-something year old. But fuck, I want you to get a fucking grip. You left me.” Desperate and too loud. “For months. I needed you and you just left me. I thought you would be the one who wouldn’t leave me. I lost Sarah too. My best fucking friend. And you know how much I hate this fucking house and I haven’t even been writing or painting and–”
You had never actually spoken to him about it all. But he knew. You were tired of arguing, of never being right. Of always being treated like a child but expected to act like an adult.
He filled the immediate silence, but his tone was more tender this time.
“You thought I was with another woman?” He looked as if you may have well dug your hands into his chest and tore him limb from limb.
Each month without him an envelope would show up, usually on a Thursday. Those used to be your days. It was shoved into your window pane accompanied by a soft knock. You never caught him despite the foul amount of time you spent looking out the window, waiting for him to come and save you again. You didn’t even need rent money anymore but it was always there and he never was. You were saving it in a hidden box with to get the fuck out of here scribbled in thick black marker on one side.
You thought about just showing up, as it wasn’t something he himself was ever opposed to when it came to you. Except for when you really wanted him too. Needed him too.
Last month you couldn’t sleep and the edibles were making you more restless than relaxed. You got up at 4:24 am and sat yourself down at your desk, got out an old notebook and picked up a pen for the first time since graduating. You started a note to Sarah that still sits unfinished on the second page of the college-ruled journal.
I saw it in his eyes, Sarah. It started months ago, before he left the first time and this was all still a secret. When I saw him again… you were looking down and trying not to let the tear slide down your cheek and into the black ink. That would be weak of you, to deliver a note to your lover's daughter and have it soiled with your tears, while apologizing for the pain you caused her.
I swear I saw it swell and dare itself to fall out of his eyes right then and there; love. And I’m so sorry for hurting you. I felt seen and heard. I felt held, Sar.
You accepted his angry disappointment and let it lay over you like a blanket, familiar. It meant he was there, he was in reach and your fingers could get lost in the curls on the back of his head. So you sat there and admired the wrinkles between his glaring eyes. Beautiful fucking eyes. Indulgent, and prodigal in the way he refuses to let you go. He lowered his voice and moved his curls out of his face.
“Do you know how much of my life I’ve risked to put you first? It cost me my daughter’s trust. She will never look at me the same again. And my pride,” he said your name and his jaw hardened, the apparent sour taste of you leaving his mouth, “my pride baby girl. Do you know how much it hurts me that you just found another man?”
You were crying, the tears warming the red of your embarrassed face. He had done his shaming, his job at keeping you in your place. Now he would complete the circle like a snake eating its own tail.
He will tear you limb from limb knowing that his warmth is the only thing able to glue you back together; then he will pull you into his core and comfort you. You will be five, seventeen, twenty-five, in his arms.
It would be hard to tell what he was feeling if you didn’t know him, but you do, and his sadness is so discreetly and gently placed under the cover of his angry brown eyes. Your tears turned to sobbing and it all felt like it was going to fall out of you and onto the ground in front of his feet.
“Stop cryin’.”
He reached down and started low, tracing his thick fingers up your inner thigh, tickling against his carved initials and causing your clit to swell. He lowered his voice and spoke to you like you were a child in trouble.
Here it is, the wordless apology. Touching and heavy breathing.
“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about opening that computer and clicking on your name again? Just to hear the mess your pussy makes when it sees me? How you pool around the base of whatever cock you decided to stuff yourself with that night and then regret it because it wasn’t mine.”
“Fuck.” It left your lips with a moan and an even bigger sob that you could no longer hold inside. He didn’t flinch and didn’t show any sign of acting on his movements rather than to tease you, see if he went too far or if you would still melt under his stained black work hands.
He moved one finger down the ticklish part of your neck and traced your skin to your hip. Then he removed his touch from your skin and once again stepped backward. Like a father’s friend should stand.
He got what he wanted out of you, always does. And most of the time you yearn for the ache in your knees on the rare occasions you don’t give in. Giving in meant pleasure, but it was always accompanied by pain when it came to him.
It was a consistent push and pull, give and take. He was so generous in the beginning, giving his money, time, and his cum, all in your name. He knew that to win you over you have to first, give. Now he takes and you happily oblige.
He has a unique knowledge of you, one that you really didn’t even recognize in yourself. Which is ironic, considering all you do is sit and burrow in your own psychoanalyzation. Trauma recognizes itself, even when it isn't directly yours. He had been around long enough to recognize himself in you.
Then, you heard the end cadence of your name.
As he stepped backwards the footsteps stopped behind the two of you. Caught. And you prayed to a God you knew wouldn’t answer that it wasn’t your dad.
Neither of you turned around to face him.
“Knew you’d go right back and fall down on all fours for him when you had the chance. God,” John laughed, “you’re a fucking whore. N’ not even the good kind that’ll suck your dick when you ask. I asked nicely, didn’t I? But not nice enough. Unless you’re Joel of course.”
And suddenly it didn’t matter that this was to all be a secret. You, standing a few cars down from your front door, hair a mess and cherry-flavored chapstick smudged down your face. Joel’s cum hardened where his tongue missed. Mascara running down your redended cheeks from either being fucked too well or from the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes again.
There was a high pitched buzzing as your body recognized the danger and began to shut down, watching Joel’s back muscles flinch in anger as he made his way over to John. You knew how deeply Joel was able to feel, and hate was probably not excluded from that depth.
It wasn’t a secret anymore the moment his knuckles cracked against the fat of John’s cheek, seconds before he was on the ground. The birds stopped singing into the night.
Here he was, standing up for you like someone should have done since you took your first goddamn steps. But you were yelling at him to stop. Someone finally came to save you and you were telling him to stop. He was starting in again, pulling his fist back and clenching his jaw, preparing for the impact to hurt him too. But his pain didn’t matter when it came to you
“You think you’re gonna talk to her like that and get away with it? Oh you’ve fuckin’ lost your god damn mind. I really shoulda punched you in your ugly fucking face when you had it in my truck window all those months ago. Spare me the time. Say another word towards her and I will make a pretty painting with your face on this concrete.”
“Oh, but she wasn’t in pain whenever she was calling my name instead of yours. That pussy tastes like goddamn honey, Jo—”
One thing you loved to do was have Joel hold his palm out and let you sit your face in it. It was bigger than your face, but it was warm and strong. Safe. You knew deep down that it was capable of hurting someone but death had not crossed your mind, not until John lay wheezing on the ground, laughing. Half-dead from Joel’s blows, not even able to prepare as he took in a deep breath and got ready to fire again.
Up until this moment you felt like you were a good person to have in life-threatening situations, always level headed and use to immense stress, but for the first time in your life everything around you was moving in slow motion.
You turned and watched as the white of your front door turned black, opening, and it felt like the moment Joel showed up the first (second) time at the gallery. But this felt like a last time type of feeling. It felt like an ending.
“Joel,” you pushed out.
He didn’t even react to your voice. He simply acted as if he’s never heard it. As if it hadn’t, alone, made him rock his hips into whatever the fuck he could fit between the past three months.
“Joel, stop. Someone is coming outside. Please stop. Joel.” Sobs were getting caught in your throat. You started to walk towards him, to set yourself in front of John if that meant that he would stop.
“Birdie, turn around.” You don’t listen, walking towards him. “I said turn arou—“
Another voice broke through. The one you thought you might have heard first. The voice of the first man to ever break your heart. The one who only spoke out in anger. The one who should have been throwing punches at himself all of these years.
“Joel Miller what the fuck are you doing?” He had his pistol by his side. Must have heard the yelling and screaming, and if there is anything a Texas man loves more than the possibility of getting to shoot someone off of his property…
Your dad called your name second, expecting an answer. And now you wished you wouldn’t have tried to stop Joel so that John wasn’t able to open his own mouth and speak the truth you both had been hiding.
You’re eight again, and the sound of his knuckles against the kitchen counter were reverberating through the empty theater atop your head. The only person gracing the red lined theater seats is you. Small, child you, looking at the screen and out the front of your head.
“She—“ John is stuttering through already swollen and broken lips, Joel shakes him as a warning not to open his mouth further, “she’s fucking him.”
Silence. Other people had followed your dad outside, including your mother. Admist the audience was Sarah, who you had not known was here the entire time. Her face was twisted in pain, and you knew that this was your fault. This was more pain for her and it was all because of you.
It was quiet, everyone was in shock, besides the night birds singing. The hum of the orange streetlights above. Joel’s heavy breathing and John’s slight wheezing from being hit over and over and—
Your dad’s jaw sits tight. He opened his mouth and the sky felt like it was going to fall.
“Excuse me?” That was a threat and his body was closing in on Joel imminently. People were yelling, but it sounded far away. He cocked his gun and the clicking was drowned out by your mothers screaming.
“I fucking knew something was happening. How dare you, you sick fuck.”
You begged, talking fast, “Dad stop. John thinks he saw something but Joel was helping me find my keys I dropped in the truck. He came here to leave but I asked him to help me instead.”
You knew what came next—always had. Because proverbial fists were for the women of his life. Actual fists were for the men. Bullets were for his inflated masculine ego.
“Dad, plea–”
“You shut the fuck up.” He was talking to you.
Joel’s boots were hitting the ground again as he dropped John’s collar, closing in on your dad. He managed to grab Joel by his shoulders before he could submit him to the same fate as John.
“I don’t care if you are her Daddy, you better not ever speak to her like that again.” His strong nose was pushing into your dads, eye to eye.
“Her sayin’ not to talk to you, spending time over at your house. Does Sarah know?”
His finger pushed up against Joel’s chest.
“That’s my daughter Joel. Do you want me to prance down the street and right through your front door to fuck your daughter right under your nose?”
He lifted the gun towards Joel and you were screaming. It took a moment to register that it was you, your throat burning as Sarah screamed behind you.
Of course it would be this man to take Joel away from you.
Joel huffed a deep and viscous laugh. He looked over to you for the first time in minutes and pain filled his eyes. But they were wide open and focused on the gun pointed directly at his head. You nodded towards him for some reason, giving him permission for whatever he was about to say.
“You know what? I fucking dare you to kill me for being the only one here that has ever taken care of your daughter, you motherfucker.”
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A long and sappy thank you / 1K followers post is coming soon 😚
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