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killerpancakeburger · 21 days

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Breaking Point (1/2)

SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.

PAIRINGS: Ghost x GN!Reader

Soap's version.

TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Ghost is... Ghost; taciturn, blunt, aloof, but Not An Asshole, protective, trustworthy, He's Trying ☆.

WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing. Ghost's part is significantly darker than Soap's (in terms of suicide ideation, not as in he's a yandere).

WORDS COUNT: 3.6k

A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃 Ghost role-plays (NOT SEXUAL) as the world's worst psychiatrist. Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).

The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.

After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.

Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.

But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.

The sight of the dark, bulky silhouette standing in the frame does nothing to appease your worries - quite the opposite. Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be fucking Ghost. The most intimidating - not to say terrifying - man on the whole base, but also the most cryptic.

Towering over 190cm and built like few were, even on a military base, you had recoiled despite yourself the first time you met. Every single detail regarding him was redacted - you knew because you had checked his file, consumed by curiosity -, including his own face - unvaryingly covered by a black mask adorned with a white skull. That semblance of halloween mask and an alias was all that he shared with the world.

He dispensed his words in dribs and drabs to a handful of privileged people, which seemed limited to your supervisor, Captain Price, who was also his direct superior, and his teammates of the Task Force 141. He couldn’t have offered you more than ten syllables in the six months you’ve been there. Yet, everyone knew who he was, what he was capable of, and crowds systematically parted with his passage like the Red Sea.

You had wisely taken the resolution to not heed the rumors about him, which ranged from hardly believable to frankly ridiculous, but you couldn’t help the knot in your stomach every time he was nearby. It wasn’t only his imposing stature that put you on edge, but mainly the fact that he was always impassive. His mask effectively hid his emotions, sure, but his voice didn’t let anything show through either. Most of the time you had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, leaving you puzzled at how to interact with him. Not that there were that many interactions to begin with, but the few that happened left you with a lasting impression.

However you were pleased with yourself after you quit agonizing over his opinion of you, focusing instead on doing your best to treat him like the other soldiers. He may not be friendly, but he never had been disrespectful either.

You stare at him in horror, a deer in the headlights, unable to emit a sound. You didn’t even have the time to fabricate a bunch of excuses to get you out of this situation.

Shit, shit, shit. What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?

“Ya good?”

His tone is gruff, as it always is, but not hostile. The question feels like a way out of this awkward situation, a lifebelt. You cling onto it like you're lost at sea.

Maybe you can still turn this around - pretend everything is OK. He will follow the implicit rules of politeness and leave you to it.

You hasten to reply.

“Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I'm fine.”

As you finish drying your face, he steps into the room, stopping in front of your desk.

“Did you need something?”

Your voice automatically switches to “customer service” mode, and you plaster a fake smile on your face. The mental image of a puppet, strings forcing the corner of its lips to lift, comes to your mind.

Ghost doesn't respond. His eyes are searching your face like it's an encrypted message that could provide a target's position.

Your smile vacillates under his scrutiny. The examination is cold, clinical; there's no warmth nor sympathy in those brown eyes.

“Doesn't look fine to me.”

He announces the statement like a fact, voice dull, neutral. He doesn't provide sympathy, but he doesn't cast judgment either. It’s not less irritating though.

Your first instinct is to snap at him, tell him to mind his own business, ask why he even cares. You resist it. Picking quarrels will only make matters worse. You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.

“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”

Crybaby.

Ghost turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced. He still recalls vividly the moment he stopped considering you like another faceless office worker amongst others and made an effort to remember your name.

He was mindlessly killing time in the break room with Gaz and Soap until you showed up at the door, a forced smile on your face, attempting to look casual but your body language betraying your nervousness. He spotted you first, the other two engaged in a lively conversation. Relief spread on your face when you saw he had noticed you, sparing you the trouble of having to call out for him, and you approached.

“Ghost, can I have a word? … in private?”

He straightened up from the wall he was leaning on and followed you wordlessly, feeling the prying stares of his teammates lingering on him. You stopped in the hallway to face him.

“You forgot to fill out the medical part in your last report.”

Fingers linked together, you were anxiously twiddling your thumbs. His eyes followed the movement unconsciously.

“I haven't.”

You frowned in uncomprehension.

“Your medical file said-”

“I know what the medical file said,” he retorted firmly, hoping that you would understand his intention without him having to spell it out loud.

The furrow in your brows didn’t go away, quite the contrary.

“You want me to lie.”

The statement wasn’t an accusation, but a request for confirmation.

“You catch on quick.”

The sarcasm and patronization unintentionally slipped into his voice. You were just a newbie trying to do your job well, after all. However the others before you never took the trouble to confront him about this, either out of fright or negligence, and this felt like a waste of his time.

He watched you search his face for something, an explanation, a way out? You bit your lips, conflicted, before replying:

“No.”

“No?” he repeated, raising a skeptical eyebrow that you couldn’t see, crossing his arms. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He wasn’t used to being turned down anymore, except for so few individuals, like Price or Laswell, that they could be counted on the fingers of one hand. That the first person to oppose him in so long wasn’t an uptight high ranking or a gutsy enemy, but you, an average civilian, was definitely a surprise.

“I'm not taking that risk”, you added with a determination he didn’t expect.

“Ya wouldn’t be takin’ any. Nobody will be none the wiser.”

“That's not what I- urgh. I am not letting you go back injured on the field! I don't care if you're the ghost or whatever, you’re not invulnerable. So either you fill that damn file or I'm telling Price.”

“Oh? You'd snitch on me?”

“I'd do it to save your life, yeah.”

And with that, you shoved the papers in his chest, turned around and walked away. You had barely disappeared around the corner that he was already mentally calling himself a bloody idiot. Why had it been so tempting to provoke you? Because out of nowhere your usually bashful self showed audacity? Because you were absurdly hellbent on defending his expandable life? No matter the reason, he started to look at you differently from that day on.

Clearly you and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.

He deposits the stack of files he had been holding on your bureau, but as you reach to seize them, he covers your hand with his own and leans in.

You would have stared in disbelief at his gloved hand over yours if the proximity of his face wasn’t a much more pressing matter. You can feel your face warm up and you loathe it.

“Those'll still be there tomorrow, love.”

You blink in surprise at the pet name. It's like you're a spooked horse and he's trying to soothe you with sweet nothings.

“But the paperwork-”

“Fuck the paperwork.”

Easy for him to say.

“But Price-”

“I'll deal with Price.”

“My mom's in the hospital”, you brutally admit, having run out of pretext.

You look each other in the eye for what seems forever.

“Ye take yer coffee with three sugars, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah?”

You reply hesitantly, stunned by the ask that, a priori, has nothing to do with your wholehearted confession. How did he even know that? The words have barely left your lips that he already disappeared into the corridor. You stare in disbelief at the door, mouth agape. You poured your fucking heart out and that socially inept bastard in his goofy ass halloween costume just ditched you after wringing the truth out of you like you were an interrogated enemy soldier.

Sipping the content of your mug with the Ghost's unblinking stare fixated on you is an unsettling experience, to say the least. Seated on the chair facing your desk, legs wide open, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and gray pants, one hand holding his mug of tea, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he sat down.

Does he seriously not realize how unnerving his starring is?

He exudes an aura of tranquil power; the unchallenged authority of someone who is used to being obeyed without question, combined with the nonchalance that comes with being unmatched. Even casually sprawled like this, he remains formidable.

A few minutes ago, he set down a steaming mug in front of you and a box of tissues - a delicate attention that sent a pang in your chest -, before taking a seat. The fingers of his free hand are softly taping his knee.

“Guess I won’t need to kill anyone tonight,” he declares in a detached manner.

You blink in incomprehension at that.

“But you don’t have a mission tonight…”

“Won’t have to kill anyone for makin’ ya cry,” he clarifies.

“Oh.”

What else can you possibly reply to that? The murder machine lounging in front of you has enough confirmed kills to make a sniper of legend green with envy.

“So…”, you initiate, not without uncertainty, “is this the moment where I get everything off my chest?”

“Do whatever ya want.” he placidly counters, shrugging.

It really, considerably, sounds like he doesn't care at all; but if he did, he wouldn’t be here.

You take a deep breath, staring at your desk.

“She's in the ICU. Paralyzed, intubated, put in a coma.”

Tears flood your eyes again. This time you don't try to fight them.

“I'm terrified for her. But, what's worse is…”

You swallow your saliva; blink in rapid succession - the tears sting.

“I can’t help but think the worst. About what'll become of me without her.”

Water overflows your eyes. The dam ruptures abruptly. Raw honesty spills from your lips.

“She’s all I have. Without her, I have nothing. I am nothing.”

The ensuing silence is deafening. You wonder what the hell you’re doing. There’s something about the man in front of you that, paradoxically, makes you want to confide in him. Despite his lack of warmth, he feels steady, reliable. A rock to lean on when your whole world is crumbling. Solid ground when it feels like everything is caving in around you. Like you could lay all your burdens on him and he wouldn’t even flinch under what feels like the weight of the world.

You feel awfully selfish to entertain that thought, but you doubt he'd ever give you the opportunity to return the favor.

“Bollocks.”

His tone is surlier than before. You look up at him to be sure you heard correctly.

“What about yer job? Ye enjoy it, right?”

You scoff bitterly at that.

“It's just a temporary gig. I'll be kicked out in two months.”

“We can make it permanent.”

You shoot him an incredulous look.

“You're just saying that.”

“‘M not. Wouldn't lie just to make ye feel better. Not my style.”

A cynical chuckle escapes you before a mischievous smirk stretches your lips.

“I’m sorry big guy, when did you get nominated as the commander of the base? Cause as far as I know this is outside your jurisdiction.”

A similar smile spreads behind his mask. He’d take your sass over your tears any day.

“I have my ways,” he replies tranquilly.

From anyone else, you’d call it bragging or bluffing. Coming from the Ghost, it doesn’t sound as anything but the truth. He stares at you intensely, as if daring you to doubt him again, or intent on proving you his integrity through gaze alone.

You look away, your cheeks heating up.

Ghost never minded that you can’t maintain eye contact. Just like he’s not into small talk, or physical contact. He knows most people tend to take it the wrong way, interpret it as contempt, when it couldn't be further from the truth.

“Thank you, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’d feel like I’m manipulating you.”

He chuckles darkly, sending a shiver crawling down your spine, one you do not know if it was born of fear entirely or attraction.

“Oh sweetheart, you couldn’t even if you tried.”

Another tingle. Definitely pleasant this time. You desperately busy yourself with the content of your mug, the effects of that sentence on you too intense for the solemnity of the situation.

Your strategy proves itself fruitful until a movement at the periphery of your vision attracts your gaze. You peek without thinking, and freeze at the sight of Ghost lifting his mask above his nose to drink from his cup. One scar crosses his mouth, another departs from the corner of his lips, both ancient but deep. They don’t faze you though - truth be told, the omnipresent mask made you expect him to look like a world war one veteran, so heavily disfigured that you wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“Enjoyin’ the view?”

He doesn’t sound even remotely annoyed, but you lower your eyes in shame all the same.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“If I didn’t wantcha to look, I wouldn’t have taken it off.”

As you need a moment to take in the implications of that sentence, he talks again.

“What's your poison?”

“Pardon?” you reply, genuinely lost.

He snorts at your exaggerated politeness.

“Coffee isn’t gonna cut it. Whataya usually take when you feel like this? Alcohol? Cigs?”

A pause.

“Sex?”

You choke and set down your mug out of fear of dropping it.

“No, no… and no.”

“Nothing?”

He sounds doubtful.

“I… cry myself to sleep?”

It makes no sense to formulate it like a question, but everything about this is surreal.

He hums, contemplative.

“You’re not making this easy.”

“What?”

“Helpin’ ya.”

You scoff, suddenly irritated.

“You could lend me one of your guns and let me blow my brains off with it. That would help.”

“Not gonna happen,” he counters with emphatic authority that leaves no place for rebuttal.

“Worth a shot,” you say, trying to get the last word. “Ha, shot. Get it?”

“Very funny.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, like he’s a tired parent indulging you, a tireless child.

“You just don’t have any humor.”

The words left your lips before you could consider their impact. Yes, you never heard the Ghost laugh, but maybe he has a very good reason for that. Maybe several. Maybe you’re just a fucking asshole.

“Why are colds bad criminals?”

Your head pivots towards him so fast you fear your neck is going to snap.

“Why…?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You stare at him in bewildered silence, not quite believing what just happened, before starting to laugh, first softly, then, carried away, louder and louder, bordering on hysterical. You don’t even giggle because of the joke, but because the contrast between the silliness of it and how deadpan Ghost was when enunciating it is simply too good. That, and the nerves are probably getting the better of you.

“Never had anyone laugh that much at this one before.”

You attempt to get your breath back, alternating between pants and laughs, wiping a solitary tear at the corner of your eye.

“It’s just… you… I didn’t see it coming, jeez.”

Sighing wistfully, you take in the quietude of this fleeting moment.

“This is nice.”

“I'm always nice,” grunts the lieutenant.

You let out a good-natured scoff, then reality catches up to you.

“SHIT! What time is it!?” you shout in panic as you violently get up. “Maybe I can still catch a bus-”

You log out of your work session, turn off your PC and shove all your belongings inside your bag in record time. Ghost barely bats an eye, still like a languid cat; a very big, very dangerous cat.

“You can spend the night.”

“No I can’t!”

You push your chair under your desk and pick up your coat.

“We can make some sorry bloke sleep outside.”

“Noooo- That's horrible!”

You have no idea if he’s messing with you or not.

“Not worse than what's waiting for ‘em on the field.”

“Well, I still can’t do that.”

“Good for you that I can, then.”

You finally look at him, an half-amused smile on your lips, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Lemme guess. This is you ‘having your ways’ again, isn’t it?”

His offer is tempting. You really don’t want to be left to your own devices tonight.

He stands up and takes a step towards you while pulling his mask down and, oh, with him sitting this all time, you would have almost forgotten how much he towers over you.

“S’that a yes or a no?”

You could almost detect a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“It’s a yes, sir,” you retort while pronouncing the “sir” with as much impertinence as you can muster.

“Better keep up, then.”

And just like that, he vacates the premises, and you do have to focus to keep up because those long legs of his ain’t just for show.

As you two travel across corridors unknown to you, you wonder once again what the hell you’re doing, hanging out with this mountain of a man who’s more myth than human, and breaking the rules of a military base on a whim. Lost in thought, you don’t pay attention to the voices edging closer, and you’re completely taken aback when Ghost grabs you by the back of your shirt and drags you in a dark alcove with him. You’re so astounded, you don’t even make a sound. He takes hold of the back of your head and presses you against him to occupy as little space as possible, effectively hiding you from the men walking by. Only then you recognize Captain Price among other officers.

“Sorry ‘bout that, love,” whispers the man you’re squeezed against, barely audible, imperturbable as ever, like this is an everyday situation for him.

You don’t answer - you can’t, anyway, essentially muffled by his pecs. You should be more irked by those circumstances, but the sudden proximity set your face ablaze, therefore you’re very happy with its current concealment.

“Price will have my head if he thinks I made you cry.”

You’re about to protest, but then you remember that one time when Soap tagged along when you were carrying a huge box back from the archives, and when Price saw you two, Soap unconcerned with empty hands, and your face almost disappearing behind the imposing cardboard, he called the sergeant a bloody useless muppet and then proceeded to call into question his ability to transport his rucksack for days. Nevermind that you were the one who insisted on carrying the crate on your own as it provided a nice workout, and that you had to bare your teeth at Soap to prevent him from taking it from you.

When the peril has walked by and Ghost releases you, you silently thank the shadows around you hiding how affected you are by this ersatz of a hug. Later, he drops you off at an unoccupied bedroom, small but including a bathroom and furnished with everything you could ever want. You say your goodbyes and your thanks at the door, and he. pats. your head. You don’t even have time to be outraged that he states he will see you tomorrow, something that sounds like a promise as much as a threat, probably in reference to the morbid fantasies you shared, and he vanishes into the shadows like a… ghost.

A/N : The real reason Ghost ran out:

He be googling “how to comfort female civilian age between 20 and **”

In the TF Group Chat (Price not included):

“We have an emergency.”

“Send as many kitten pics as possible to [Reader] … stat.”

#mine #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod fic #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost fluff #hurt/comfort #cod fluff

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krashoutluv · 3 months

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Imagine if, to save on the water bill/ they're just tired/etc, Jason (AK or comic really) and his S/o take an innocent shower together for the first time, yet the entire time Jason's trying his hardest to stay respectful and not stare, but at the same time wants to admire his S/o because he just loves how much they look. And possibly gets the shampoo in his eyes while distracted.

bear with me as ive been sick since wednesday and ive been writing this throughout my sick days. #fighting4mylife

Showering with Ak!Jason (SFW FIC)

ig their naked but its not ak!jay being horny just like in love so maybe nsfw nothing sexual happens mostly indirect tension soo??😭😭 ((tw: writing might suck))

JASON came home a little early from a bar. He went there for information on Penguins weapon deals. Jason would say something like, ‘it got a little messy,’ but a little messy to Jason was being covered in mud, blood, and clothes drenched from the rain that started on his way back. It was around 12 AM when he came back way earlier then his usual so you were hoping in the shower getting ready to go to sleep, not expecting him. You two saw each other just as you were walking into the bathroom.

“You look like shit—“ You turned your head into the bathroom so he couldn’t see your face; trying to bite back a cackle because of the words that slipped from your mouth,, “—I mean you can go first.” you looked back over at him,

“Well aren’t you the sweetest thing.“ He started taking off his gloves. “Go ahead.” He huffed.

“No seriously its fine, ill grab you a towel-“

“— The more you talk the longer it takes for the both of us.” He sighed, pulling off his jacket and folding it in a neat little square.

“Right, sorry.” You turn into the bathroom and pause. It was pretty obvious he was tired and wanted to get comfier then his muddied clothes let him; Thats when the thought hit you. “Unless.” You felt your face burn. You weren’t sure if Jason be comfortable with it, but it wasn’t sexual and it’d save you money from your water bill.

“Unless?” Jason questioned flatly, his back was turned to you and he was taking off his bloodied boots.

You slowly turned towards him, “You’d like to.. join me.” you had tried to sound as casual as possible. He paused completely, only getting half of his boot off before freezing. He looked back at you, like he wasn’t sure if he heard you properly. “LIKE—“ You raised your voice a little too loud on accident,”—Like, not like, you know. THAT. But like.” he took off his boot and started walking over to you as you rambled about how you didn’t mean it sexually it’d just be easier n’ y’know obviously he didn’t have to— You didn’t even notice the brick wall of a man making its way over to you until Jason stood in front of you.

”Yeah. Sure.” He replied flatly, your eyes meet his face, he was staring at your face completely stone cold. Maybe if you didn’t turn around to move to the door handle, maybe, just maybe you would’ve seen how his cheeks and ears were lightly dusted with red. But you didn’t.

You awkwardly shuffled to the side to let him in, closing the door behind you two. Back facing each other as you two undressed, you weren’t wearing a full outfit so you took everything off faster then him, yikes, awkward. You didnt wanna just stand there so you slipped past him with your head down at the floor to get the shower water running. Running your hand through the burning water just to push away the sound of him unbuckling his belt in the deepest part of your mind. “Uh, first-aid under the, uhm, fuckin- sink.” You stammered, still facing the shower waiting for the water to now cool down.

“You can get in first, i’ll patch myself up.” You did a little thumbs up behind your back, as if he saw, and made your way in, closing the curtain behind you. But he was totally lying. He should’ve patched himself up after you two had gotten out so he didn’t worry about anything washing into his cleaned wounds. But he needed to buy himself time to calm his nerves. You were so fuckin’ pretty, your skin brushed his as you passed him earlier and—its crazy how the Red Hood is single-handedly fighting for his life more now then when he was dealing with twelve grown men earlier.

After taking a purposeful three minutes longer then his usual, he stands up. He almost backs out as soon as he reaches for the shower curtains, he inhales then exhales, brushing his finger tips against the thin veil of cloth that just separates you two. “I’m, uh,-“ his voice cracks “-comin in now..”

“Hold on,” You quickly stepped out of the water stream, and leaned onto the back wall of the shower. “Alright, front of the shower where like, the, uh- water is, is all yours.” Jason cleared his voice just before he stepped in, being sure to keep his back turned to you. He let the water run over his marred skin, trying to ignore every scar on his back burning. After letting the water wash off the pieces of dirt that it could, or him finally succumbing to the sensation of getting the soap to scrub at his mangled flesh;

Jason turned his head to grab the soap— FUCK, he whipped his head back around into the showers stream. Scrubbing his face to try to wash the burning image of you out of his mind. The mixture of water and light highlighting your skin like an portrait. You’re staring down towards your feet playing with the water droplets on your crossed arms- fuck he needed to stop thinking about it. Jason pulled his head out of the water, croaking out ”Soap.” Yes, yes, wise words I know.

The next thing he knew, right by his shoulder was your hand holding out the soap. “Here, hope I’m holding it in the right spot.” You softly chuckled to yourself. He turned enough to see you covering your eyes with your other hand out of his peripheral vision. God he needed to stop looking. He took it from you and skimmed his face against the water before he grunted out a thanks.

He was questioning himself as he washed his blemished skin. He wasn’t a creep, he wasn’t staring at you because it was sexual. So what was he doing? What was this feeling? Why did he want to look at you anyways? Why did it remind him of the way he looks at marble statues? Was it because of the way your fingers dented your arms skin while you glide water droplets along your skin? Was it the way your head slightly tilted? Was it the was your body was effortlessly posed? Like you knew, like you were ready for every detail of your body was going to be eternalized into marble? Was it because of the urge to trace every part of your skin? Maybe to just get a feeling of what your sculptor felt? Was he being a fuckin creep?

He wasn’t sure, something he suddenly did become sure of was the fact you were probably cold as shit and he needed to hurry the fuck up.

guys idk how to feel abt this fic tbh

rq / inbox is closed

sorry i got like 12 i needa get done

#arkham knight x gn!reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #skullkidwithsunglasses #krash responds to u

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gavisuntiedboot · 8 months

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Just Pretend (Gavi X Reader)

Epilogue

Warnings: Mentions of injury, blood, stitches, SMUT, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, explicit language, and more that I can't remember.

Word Count: 12.8k (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 186 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Okay y'all, time to finally put this baby to rest. I was going to wait a little bit longer to do this next part, but with Gavi's injury I needed something to keep me off the Emergency Medicine Manual on ear lacerations. And now Joao is here??? It's just the right time. The universe said so.

Gif Credit: @worldcupwinner

Previously on Just Pretend

"She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink.""

"He tried to think of something sad, something painful, anything besides the fact that you were leaning over him, touching him so gently while he was in his boxers."

""Don't you think it's a little desperate of you to take off work for a date?"

You looked up at him seething. He stood with his bag strapped over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, hood up to cover his wet hair. His eyes were stern and cold, the usual fire behind them having died down to leave frigid disgust. You would be lying if you said you didn't know about how the Barca men got rid of their sexual frustrations.

"Oh I'm sorry. Next time, Gavi, I'll be classy like you and have weekly sex in a club bathroom.""

"It broke him to see you like this - shaking and in tears in a club bathroom, while the man you were trying to impress was probably grinding on other girls. Gavi told himself it had nothing to do with you specifically, just fairness. You were objectively a good person, and you deserved to be treated well by everyone around you. He tugged your shoulder, bringing you in for a tight embrace. You tucked your head into his shoulder, allowing your tears to fall more freely now that he couldn't see you. Something in you began to calm. It was like Gavi had flipped a switch."

""You can yell at me all you want. You can be angry at the fact that I care about you. You can punch me," he hit on his chest, "right here if you want to. But I am not a child. Don't refer to me as one. So you can go an be upset and pretend that everything I do is selfish, but you know deep down that no matter how much you push me away, I'm looking out for your best interest." He opened the door and stepped aside.

"Drive safely, doctora.""

""No I'm serious. You were having a panic attack in your car. At least... At least come inside and eat something. Maybe have some tea? Anything. I just... want to make sure that you're okay before you leave me."

With wide eyes, you looked up at Gavi after this statement. His cheeks burned, realizing he had slipped up.

"Leave my house. Just come inside.""

""Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything.""

""Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back.""

""I wish I could go back to then, sometimes."

"Why is that?"

"I had friends back then."

He looked at you in a strange manner, shifting one strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are we not friends, Doctora?"

"For better or worse, you're my best friend, Pablo.""

Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.

And now, months later...

The rays of early-morning light danced around the disheveled bedroom, bouncing across t-shirts and socks littering the floor and bedside table. They reflected across the buzzing phone screen, emitting a shrill beeping that disrupted the serenity that accompanied this time of the day. Try as he might to shield his ears with the fluff of his 'cuddling pillow', the sound penetrated through, stirring him from dreams of pretty eyes and soft lips. Squinting, the numbers on his screen prompted him to groan, rolling out of his warm sheets and onto the chill of the tile floor, needing to shower and dress before Pedri began his ritual of calling him on repeat until his butt was seated on the plush leather of the newly purchased Lambo.

The steam rippled off his sore muscles, and he lathered his mint-scented shampoo in his hands, Pablo cracked his first smile of the day at the thought of your hands on his shoulders the moment you got to work, or in the calm hours after. The whole house lingered with traces of you, but the bathroom was the worst. He had slowly but surely photographed everything in your own bathroom, replicating your set up in his much more luxurious marble shower. From hair to body to skincare, he had every bottle perfectly arranged for you to use on those days when the shared warmth of Pablo's body against yours was too much to overcome, and he lead you upstairs for a night in his arms. Or even better (and yet also worse), when the two of you remained entangled on what Gavi referred to as the "love sofa", waking up with muscle aches and bad breath, but always with the upmost feelings of content.

Every step of Pablo's morning had slowly but surely started revolving around you. He was floating, weightless in your alluring orbit. Su Sol. Su vida. The deodorant he rolled on was never out of stock under his cabinet, and it never would be since you cuddled into him and said he smelled like the ocean. He had spent his weeks in America (when not bedridden) searching for bottles of 1 million, the cologne that you secretly sprayed on the pillows before bed and onto every item of clothing you 'borrowed'. The hair gel was at the back of the cabinet, fated to collect dust because of a gentle run of your fingers and a whisper that you loved when Pablo was "all soft and fluffy".

And as he slipped on his training shirt, the ringing started. He knew it was Pedri informing him that he was at the door, and he hurried as much as possible, as to prevent the ring tone from driving him to the brink of madness. He scurried down the stairs, careful not to crack his head open while running in socks (well, not to crack it open again). He grabbed his bag from its hook by the door, slipping on his shoes. Before exiting, he looked at the wall beside the door. He ran his fingers up the taped photographs slowly. They dragged across the young faces of his old teammates, over is mother and father and sister on a white-sand beach, dancing past the collection of pictures from the Supercopa and the Ballon D'or, and rested on the only picture frame hanging on the wall. It was one of those tacky pink ones that stores sold on Valentine's day, with AMOR written in chunky red glitter. He was sat on your chair at work, your stethoscope around his neck and you perched in his lap in your red scrubs. His right cheek was smooshed from the force of the kiss you left on it, bright red lipstick already marking his other cheek and his lips. He leaned forward, placing a swift kiss to the cool glass, before running out the door to finally stop the incessant calls.

"You know if you had been three minutes later, we would have had to skip the coffee shop." Pedri said, pulling out before the passenger door was fully shut.

"I would rather walk to training than skip that."

"How much money do you make to be buying your girl a large coffee every morning?"

"I would sell my house to keep buying her coffee in the morning."

The words 'that's a little extreme' stopped on the tip of Pedri's tongue - if Gavi was not going to be extreme in his love, then who would be?

"And finally, Nicolas, we have the physio who will be overseeing much of your work. I'll be introducing you two now."

It was comforting to know that Dr. Gonzalez was just as dry with everyone. The muffled words came with a swift three knocks at the door, and he peaked his head in before you could release the permission from your lips.

"May we enter, Doctora?"

"Yes, of course, Dr. Gonzalez. I have no players on my schedule until 8:30. Please come in, make yourselves comfortable."

He entered with a tall, muscular boy behind him, his dark curls falling in front of his bright blue eyes. His scrubs shirt puckered in the chest area, in danger of bursting due to a deep breath. He shuffled in awkwardly, opting to stand behind Dr. Gonzalez rather than occupy the seat next to him.

"Now, Nicolas. Before you is a shining example of what the individuals in your program are capable of achieving. This is-"

"Oh! You're Doctora Gavira!"

There was a moment of radio silence that circled the room, before you had the courage to whisper out, "...what?"

"Nicolas, don't interrupt." Dr. Gonzalez decided to ignore what the new kid had just called you. "This is Doctora y/n y/l/n, who many people refer to as just Doctora. Please do not do that without her explicit permission. She joined us a little over a year ago from the same program you are in, and has been an effective technician who has brought medical success to the club. Barring any tragedies like pregnancy, she will become the club's Assistant Head of Physiotherapy. Despite your initial examination being slightly more disappointing than hers, we believe you can excel under her mentorship. You will be fired upon her first complaint. I'll leave you two alone now to be acquainted. Doctora, please allow him to shadow you through the medical examinations happening today. Thank you both."

Nicolas sat in shock at all the insults that had just been so casually shot through him while you smiled sweetly and waived your boss out the door. As soon as the click of the door was heard, your smile dropped and you were leaning menacingly over the desk.

"Okay, confess right now or lose your job: who told you to call me Doctora Gavira"

"What? I- no one! Are you not married to Gavi?"

"Where would you get that idea?" You asked while sitting back down, the visible tremble in the boy before you extinguishing the anger within you.

"Well, I walked into work this morning and you were getting out of your car and I was saying hey to Ronald who I met during my interview and I said 'oh who is that she's really cute' and he was like 'oh that's the Doctora and you should be careful saying stuff about her because she's Gavi's girl and he will rip your throat out and then she will sew it back into your body' and so after that I just assumed you were his wife because like footballers aren't usually that serious about their girlfriends and I follow a bunch of Gavi fan accounts and none even said that you were his girlfriend because there's this other girl who is actually kind of awful-"

His tangent was only interrupted by a soft knocking at your office door. You yelled for whatever angel to enter, grateful from the save from the worst verbal diarrhea you had seen in years. And it was the sweetest angel of all who poked his head through the door, hair freshly washed and frizzing slightly in the August humidity. He held a large chilled coffee in one hand, using the free one to rest his weight on the back of your chair. He leaned down to complete his routine with a good morning kiss, but the look you gave Pablo over the rim of your glasses made him hesitate. It was then that he noticed the individual sat across from you. Locking eyes with him, Pablo opted for a kiss on the crown of your head, muttering a gentle “Bon día, mi doctora.”

Nicolas' eyes followed the way your hand smoothed over Gavi's bicep in the most obvious way possible, and it had the young Sevillano tensing.

"Pablo," you started before he could come up with his own conclusions, "meet Nicolas. He's going to be training under me for his work placement."

"Nice to meet you, Pablo!" Shooting up out of his chair, he extended a sweaty handshake that was left hanging in the air.

"Gavi."

"Huh?"

"Call me Gavi."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought because-"

"You want to call me the same name my girlfriend does?" A smile played across Pablo's lips: he was obviously joking, but the intern before him shook like a leaf and sweat bullets, hand still frozen in the air. Letting out a soft laugh, Pablo took his hand, embracing the new intern and reassuring him that he wasn't about to be slaughtered.

"All the boys call me Gavi - don't want you to feel out of place. Welcome to the club. You have the best teacher - I would know."

"Right! Because she's you're girlfriend!"

"Because she's the physiotherapist that's been working on me for the last year..."

Silence once again.

"Nicolas, maybe you should go watch the warmups. I'll be out in a few minutes. Field is out the door to your left."

The boy sent you a look of gratitude to be freed from ... whatever that was. He all but ran out the door, leaving it slightly ajar as Pablo watched him turn the corner, finally having enough privacy to capture you in the delicate kiss he had been waiting for since he saw you a mere 10 hours ago.

"Bon dia, Pablito. Did you sleep well?"

"Not as well as when you're next to me."

Despite asking the same question for weeks on end, he always gave the same answer. It was about a month into the two of you officially dating when he asked you to move into his place. Of course you vehemently declined, citing reasons such as not being able to break your lease and not wanting to intrude on his space. But deep down there was the unspoken truth. Every day you held your breath waiting for Pablo's answer to change. To tell you that he had slept just fine on his own, and that he may sleep even better beside someone else. The day had yet to come, and a small part of you dared to hope it never would.

"That sounds rough. Any way I can make it up to you for going home?"

"Here? In your office? I mean if you insist..."

You smacked him playfully on the arm as both of your giggled filled your office space. Pablo was acutely aware of the fact that every time he spoke to you about the subject, it was in vague terms and half truths. Pablo wanted you to move in more than he wanted almost anything else. In his mind it was the perfect scenario: he would wake up with you enveloped by his arms, breathing rhythmically against his skin. You would get into the shower, hot water rolling down your spine as he laid out your scrubs (the red and black ones were his favorites). He would make you a coffee on the ridiculously expensive espresso machine that would be arriving in 7-14 business days - right after your school and work joint evaluation. The drive to work would be filled with soft melodies and hushed conversations. The drive home would be more vibrant, with Pablito on the AUX and the windows rolled down. And then he would get to come home and help you make dinner, trying not to burn or spill as he set two porcelain dining bowls on the coffee table, under the watchful, scowling eyes of the two of you frozen in a photo. Then he would lay his head back on the couch, his chin on your crown, running his fingers up and down your back to trace your spine. The TV would be playing reruns of the same show for the thousandth time, but it didn't matter. It was the best possible feeling Pablo knew: familiarity.

It was hard being a generational talent. Sure, it came with tons of admiration and praise, but it was also riddled with constant change. Changing your hometown for a big new city. Trading your neighborhood full of friends for an academy of classmates, who you were always reminded were your competition. Exchanging hugs from mom and home-cooked meals with yelled instructions and drills in the rain. Even now, after years of playing with the first team and reaping the success, Pablo couldn't help but think about how nice it would be to stay in one city all the time, taking one set of roads that he could memorize.

But now he had you. And not in the same way as before. In a sense, he always had you. No matter how much you were irritated with the boy, you were always a phone call away. You were always ready to help heal his ailments, despite the eye-rolls that came with it. And when he had come to you at his most vulnerable, trembling hands and open heart, you had been as you always were: ready to take him as he was and treat him with delicacy and love.

No matter where Gavi went, there was still something familiar with him. When he was on a red-eye to Madrid, he could lead against the curve of your shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair and feeling the warmth of your skin. On a tiring night after training, he could always come home and be beside you, tracing the curves of your body that he had memorized, every mark and dip on your skin a landmark that reminded him he was home. The sound of your voice was melodic and soothing, and he could never get enough of the way you said his name.

"Mi Pablito."

Now was no different. The sound of your scrubs shifting, the chill of your coffee against his palm, the way your lips moved against his, so soft with delicate pressure - all of it he already knew, and that was the best part.

"Are you going to come over tonight?"

He always asked. Again, he knew the answer was going to be a huff followed by a shy 'of course', and yet he asked anyways. He loved the stability and the routine. He loved hearing you say that he was the person you preferred to spend your time with.

"Mm of course, mi Pablito. But I might be a little late. I have a lot of paperwork."

"Late? As in, you wouldn't go home with me?" Pablo's pout was adorable, puffy and pink and complemented by his beautiful brown eyes that reflected the fluorescent lights.

"I'm going to try my best not to be here too long, but it's looking like I'm going to be a while. I have to finish the reports about your improvement over the last year for my evaluation next week, do the medical examinations for the new first team members, and now I have this new kid Nicolas."

"First team players? Iñigo and Oriol finished their exams weeks ago. Besides, tomorrow is deadline day. Why would they leave the medical exams until now." Pablo was already stripping off his shirt and laying in your table, ready for you to help with his persistent back pain. You had initially thought he was lying, searching for any reason to have your hands on him during business hours. But then you actually felt his latissimus and erector spinae, and they were so tensed that for a moment you thought about injecting a relaxer into his lower back. So every morning he came in for tension relief at your magical fingertips. But the coos of "aw poor baby" and you leaned over him for half an hour every morning was definitely not going to illicit any complaints.

"Oh, well, there's still more medical procedures to be done. Fermin and Lamine have to be re-examined since Luca forgot tests 12.4 and 17.1. And Joao needs to get his examination." You placed your hands on Pablo's back, apologizing softly for how cold they were. Your first session after the two of you had gotten together, he threatened to burn every latex glove in the club. He hated the way they felt, and now that he was having a lot of skin-to-skin time, he felt that the gloves were pointless.

"Oh, I forgot that Cancelo had flown in. He's going to do wonders for our defense. Just like you're doing wonders for my back, mi amor." He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, breathing deeply and focusing on the feeling of your fingertips. Looking over your shoulder, you ensured the hallway was empty before leaning down to kiss the gentle dip where his spine was. It released a little giggle from Pablo, who tutted and said that you were trouble.

"Just relax. You think I would ever get you in trouble?"

"Oh I was in trouble the first moment that I saw you, mi Doctora."

Before you could respond, your office door swung open, and Nicolas' worried face was staring back at you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Doctora!! I should have knocked! I didn't realize you were... occupied."

"Why did you pause before- you know what, I don't want to know. What's up Nicolas?"

"Mister Xavi wanted me to tell you that Joao is here on the field, and that he should be examined as soon as possible so he can join the morning training."

Your fingers stilled and your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Gavi felt your shift but remained silent. When the two of you first started dating, he had been very protective, borderline your official spokesperson in the club. He would tell the other players you couldn't meet with them when he knew you had paperwork, and would react harshly to those who questioned your medical decisions. It had gotten you reprimanded by Dr. G, who had reminded you that your relationship should not interfere with your work. And you didn't need to be a genius to know that the players being too intimidated to get physiotherapy was 'interference with work'.

"I had him on the schedule for later this afternoon. I guess Mister wants him training earlier. I have 10 minutes left with Gavi, and then we'll both be out on the practice field."

Just as Gavi's eyes began to droop and his muscles relaxed enough for him to drift into a peaceful sleep, you were by his ear whispering for him to wake up.

"Come on, mi campeon - you have to go to training."

"Mm I don't want to," he mumbled as he rolled over, abs on display as he smiled up at you. "It's so nice and comfortable here."

You rested your hands on his hips, tracing them slowly up his slow stomach, leaving a trail of heat in your path. They continued upward until your palms lay flat on his pecs, and you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Stay here then. Take a little nap while I finish the medicals. In the meantime, they'll have Fermin take your place, and then he'll win the Golden Boy next year, and maybe he'll fall in love with his physio on the sidelines..."

"Ah yes, I can see it now," he said, "the beautiful story between Fermin and his physio... Nicolas."

You both burst out laughing at the mental image of the tall Nicolas sweeping Fermin into a homoerotic, Mbappe-Giroud embrace after he scored a goal. You walked over to the chair, tossing Gavi his training shirt and watching it slip back over the defined, rippling muscle, remaining taunt against his biceps. He opened the door for you, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the field. The 9am sun was beaming on the late August grass, reflecting the dew on the grass and the beads of sweat glistening on the boys that were running laps and stretching (some better than others - you made a mental note of who you would probably be seeing later). Pablo shot you a quick wink before scurrying off towards his peers.

"Bon dia, Doctora!" The yell came from across the pitch, and was accompanied by the excited waves from Fermin and Balde, who were having the time of their lives making fun of their whipped friend. Pedri had been part of that group initially, joining in on the taunting before games about how he was looking for injuries just to have her run onto the field. He had lingered with the other boys in the locker room to point out any bruises or scratches that Pablo had acquired, teasing him about 'finally getting some'. But since you had become best friends with his crush/ nemesis, it had become a lot harder to make fun of the younger boy without repercussions.

The older players had been overjoyed for the two of you, especially uncle Lewy. His bond with Gavi was special to him, and far surpassed just their relationship on the field. He saw his younger self in Pablo, and couldn't help the feeling he got watching the boy fall in love. The way that Gavi was fiercely protective of you, so excited to watch you shine, reminded him of Anna and all the light she brought to his life. It was a sight that made everyone's chest swell - watching the two of you interlock fingers and walk to your car every evening, smiling sweetly and leaning against each other. Robert hoped that the happiness Gavi felt was lifelong.

"Bon dia, Mister." You approached the coach and he met you with a smile and a clap on the shoulder.

"Doctora, always a good morning when we have you with us during practice."

"I'm flattered, coach. I heard from Nicolas that you wanted me to do Joao's medical now? I was scheduled to oversee morning practice and complete his medical this afternoon. Has there been a change in what needs to be done today so I can adjust the schedule?" You asked, watching the players do their drills.

"Oh, I guess we didn't send out a memo. Not surprising, because the deal was finalized last night. You're correct, Cancelo is going to arrive within the hour and be examined in the afternoon. However, Joao had already arrived and is currently changing. I think his exam should go quickly, given that you can work off of his previous La Liga paperwork, which should be in your email. I would really appreciate if you could complete it now so that he can join the second half of this morning's training."

If the confusion wasn't evident across your face, you decided to vocalize it.

"Sorry, Mister, but isn't Cancelo Joao? Is there something I'm missing?"

"Oh," he laughed out, "my apologies. I announced it before warm-ups began, but you were still in your morning session with Gavi. The club has secured a loan deal for this season for Joao Felix from Atletico. He should be waiting for you in the hall by your office."

Gavi watched the color drain from your face from across the field, and you couldn't help the feeling of anxiety that flooded your system. If you hadn't heard the announcement, then neither had Pablo, and given your track record with Felix, you knew that it wasn't going to be his favorite news.

"Ah, that's great news!" You tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. "I just need to get Nicolas so he can shadow me and give the boys some stretch instructions before you get started with the team drills. Do you mind?" Xavi indicated for you to step on the field, and you all but sprinted over to Gavi and his teammates. Nicolas stood there, trying his best not to die of anxiety while chatting with the players and taking notes on the specific stretches that each one of them has been assigned by you.

"Hi Doctora." The greeting came from Ferran, who, after several weeks of therapy, had reached out to you to apologize for his behavior. He was keeping his relationship professional, and the personal growth you had seen was surprising. It didn't erase the hurt he had caused you, but allowed you to work with him without wanting to punch him in the face. Maybe after some more time (and therapy), you could be as friendly with him as the boys were.

"Hi Ferran. Looking good, boys. Pedri, that right hamstring needs more work." You quickly shot out, receiving a sigh as he worked out his leg for the third time. The rest of the boys looked like they were ready to engage in small-talk, but you beat them to it.

"So, are you guys excited about the new signings coming in today?" You asked, bouncing on one leg to the other.

"Very. I think Felix is going to be a fantastic contribution to the last third of the field. Will really help our attacking power." Pedri said absent-mindedly, grimacing at the effort necessary to help release the tension in his thigh.

"Felix?" Gavi was obviously confused, eyebrows stitching together, making him look even more angry bird-like than usual.

"Oh, right, you weren't here." Fermin said, turning to his childhood friend. "They finalized Joao Felix. He's arriving today and training with us after his medical exam."

"Which I'm about to go do right now." You added on quickly, hoping to rip off the Band-Aid.

"You're going to be alone with Felix?" Gavi asked in what was probably a louder tone than intended. Pablo would never describe himself with the word 'jealous'. Why would he be? He knew what he brought to the table. He was cute, successful, and was absolutely head-over-heels in love with you in a way that bordered obsession. He knew that the Portuguese playboy had nothing on him in that respect. But whenever he thought back to the stories you had told him about your first meeting with Felix, or back to the Ballon D'or when he had so effortlessly wrapped himself around you, it made the bile rise in his throat.

"Well," you tried to ignore the looks of the players around you, with their ears pricked up and waiting waiting with baited breath for your response. "Not alone. Nicolas is going to be there."

Silence. A beat passed. The another. Then another and another until the silence grew almost unbearable.

"Alright, mi Doctora. See you during the break, then." Pablo's soft eyes reached yours, and you unexpectedly found not a singular trace of negative feeling. Not one heat flare of jealousy or anger crossed his features, and it was borderline unsettling.

Pablo's eyes remained trained on you as you re-emerged, Nicolas to your left and Joao flanking the right. The three of you spoke freely and lightly, and Gavi strained his ears to try and listen in on what had the trio giggling. As Nicolas departed to report back to Dr. G, you continued towards Pablo with Joao by your side.

"I know you two have met and shoved each other many times," You said, extending your hand to help pull Pablo to his feet. "But I thought it was time to introduce the two of you on friendly terms. Pablo, this is Joao Felix, our new striker. And Joao this is Gavi, our brilliant golden boy midfielder and," you waved at him to lean in closer, "my brilliant boyfriend." The wink you shot him had Pablo blushing like a schoolgirl, and Joao clapped him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Ay, look at that. Always the winner, irmao. The doutora was actually a big part in helping me come to the club of my dreams, so I'm really thankful for her."

"Really?" Pablo questioned.

"Remember? I told you I was reviewing his health profile. We did it together actually when I was over for-"

"For when Aurora was in town. You're right."

You left the boys shortly after, sitting at your desk anxiously. You knew that Gavi's reaction was... uncharacteristic at best. He had been very unhappy when he found out that you were reviewing his file for a transfer. Help was also a relative term...

"Mi vida, you can't be serious!"

"Pablo, they didn't ask me for my personal opinion on the matter. They sent me the medical profile of a player for a injury probability analysis and fitness examination. They didn't even include his full name."

"Right. J. F. from Atletico Madrid. What a mystery!"

Pablo flopped onto the bed, arms crossed and pouting as he got under the covers. He looked down at his lap, praying that you didn't use the J-word. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. Feelings like jealousy and insecurity never found their way into his system. But he just... didn't like it. He didn't like the idea that someone was walking around thinking about you in a sinful manner. He replayed over and over in his head your account of the first time you had met 'Portugal boy'. How he 'hoped to see more of you'. Sick bastard. Your sweet, innocent mind had let the comment slide quickly, interpreting it as him wanting to see you around. But Pablo, who had spent the last year of his life trying to protect you from creeps and weirdos (his colleagues), he looked into it more deeply. See more of you meant see more of you, aka your body. Now Pablo was in bed seething at his own theories. Of Joao flirting with you, getting you alone, getting hard from your gentle touches as you simply did you job, and then...

"No. I don't like it. Just lie and say that he's too mentally ill for the club. We already have Ferran and Pedri - the club therapists are overworked." He pulled the covers up to his chin and turned his back to you, and you could tell that he was genuinely distressed. You crawled under the covers as well, your nightgown shifting up around your legs.

"Aw, lito, come here." You slid into the space behind him, tugging on his arm lightly to get him to unravel. He let himself go slack, allowing you to pull him into you. You turned him to lay on your chest, shell of his ear tuned into the rhythmic breathing of your heart. You pulled his arm around your waist, and he couldn't resist the urge to cuddle closer into you. One hand came up to gently rake your nails through his soft locks. The pressure of your lips on his crown allowed him to release a shaky breath. "Talk to me."

"I just... I don't know. When you bring him up it just turns my stomach." The pout could be heard in his voice as he brought the rest of his body into your side.

"Are you jealous?"

"No of course not." He breathed out all at once. "I would like to think our relationship is stronger than your old celebrity crush working with you." He felt the vibration of your chest as you giggled, and it lightened up the heavy feeling in his core. "But it just... doesn't feel good. Knowing there's someone else who wants you and gets to be so close to you."

You refrained from telling Pablo that was the literal definition of jealousy. And simultaneously, he refrained from telling you that a small, very very tiny part of his brain wasn't sure that you wouldn't leave him for Joao. The man was beautiful, there was absolutely no denying it, and had experience being in a long term committed relationship. It certainly didn't help that Joao was two years your senior. Pablo's insecurity around his age fluctuated in intensity, but was persistently present. It had gotten worse the more strangers found out about your relationship. When he told his friends back in Sevilla, he was met with wolf whistles and encouragement to 'improve quickly' before you left for someone more 'experienced'.

And now Pablo's brain was moving rapidly, thinking about all the small jabs his friends had made about your sexual life. "Just make sure she isn't faking it." That particular one had come from Pedri of all people, who rapidly realized his attempt at a harmless joke had sent the younger boy spiraling. Were you faking? Did you want someone who had slept with more women? Were your instructions about where he should move or how hard he should go normal? Or was that a product of sleeping with someone freshly 19?

"Do you wish I was older?"

Pablo had asked this question often, but always got the same answer. He always got the reassurance that you knew he needed in difficult moments.

"Of course not, Pablo. I don't wish anything about you, or about us, was different. Except maybe I wish we would have gotten together sooner." You punctuated the sentiment with another soft kiss to his head, cradling him close to your chest. He didn't relax this time, however. He followed up with a question that had been plaguing him since the two of you got together, but that he never had the courage to know the answer to.

"Do you... wish I was better at sex?"

You were frozen as Pablo buried his burning cheeks into your side, embarrassed by the way he had decided to phrase his query. You brought your hand up to grasp his chin and turn him to meet your eyes.

"Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know, it's just... something I've been thinking about."

"Has the sex not been good for you?"

"No! No of course not," he sat up on one elbow, trying to quickly remedy the situation so that you both wouldn't stay up until the early hours riddled with anxiety.

"I've just been thinking because... well one time me and the boys were talking..."

"Oh no here we go."

"And Pedri mentioned how it kind of takes a long time to get girls to finish."

"Mhm..."

"And then Fermin agreed."

"I can't believe you guys had this discussion in front of baby Fermin." You clasped a hand over your mouth.

"He's older than I am and that's not the point. Focus, mi doctora. So they were talking about things to make a girl finish faster and naturally I was confused because you don't take that long to finish."

"Pablo please tell me you didn't-"

"I obviously didn't say 'oh my girl cums in under 5 minutes', but I just disagreed with them." Your head was in your hands as he continued his story.

"So then they were like no no it takes forever, especially the first time. And I said that the last time I had sex with a new girl, it only took me like 10 minutes." You were bright red, unable to respond to the news that the team was hearing how long your average orgasm took.

"And then Pedri said that you might be faking it and that's why it didn't take a long time. And then I asked why a girl would fake it and he said because when the guy can't lay pipe well the girl gets bored and fakes it so the sex can end faster. And I know that I really like having sex with you but I don't know if you like having sex with me so-"

You interrupted Pablo by grabbing his chin and pulling him towards you, kissing his pouting lips mid sentence. It was too much - too adorable for you to control yourself.

"Pablito, I love you." You held his face in your hands, just watching the way his beautiful eyes reflected the low light of the bedside lamp.

"It's okay, you can tell me if I'm bad." He said softly, genuinely waiting for his feelings to be hurt.

"You're not bad, Pablo. Not even close. You're actually... okay don't start dancing when I say this but you're the best sex I've ever had."

You could feel the blood pool to his cheeks and the muscles tense to repress a smile.

"Is that so? Please feel free to elaborate." You rolled your eyes, knowing you were feeding his ego, but knowing he probably needed it in that moment.

"I've had sex with other people and none of them... well they never got me to finish, you know? I didn't even think I could finish during sex before you."

Pablo's head dripped to rest against your chest, face nestled in the valley of your breasts, breath labored against you. Your words were most certainly turning him on. He brought his hands to your thighs, playing with the hem of your satin slip, and you knew you were not going to be sleeping for the foreseeable future.

"Can you... can you keep talking, mi amor?" Who were you to deny your baby?

"You know it's not just the way you move your hands," you started as the material began to rise up your legs. "It's just you, Pablo. Just the thought of you gets me ... soaking." He let out a strangled moan against you, your words obviously having the desired effect.

"Sometimes I see you when we're at work, licking your lips or wiping your sweat with the hem of your shirt and I have to look away because otherwise," You stopped to let out a shaky breath as his hands rested on your hips, fingers ghosting the hem of your dampening panties.

"Otherwise I would have to lock my office door for a suspicious amount of time."

It was your turn to moan softly as he started kissing down your sternum, hands also moving your panties down to expose you to the cool air and Pablo's hungry eyes.

"Have you," he paused to kiss your ankle, the charm that hung there teasing him. He had seen it after your first night together, the blank tag hanging on the interlocking chain. He had stolen it one day after you look it off to shower, getting a stethoscope engraved into one side and a football onto the other. His favorite sight was to watch it dangle by his ear.

"Have you... ever," another kiss, up by your knee, "thought about me," kissed to your inner thigh now, "when you..." he trained off, hands reaching up to gentle massage your boobs while he centered his face, labored breathing hitting your soaking pussy.

"Yeah..." you breathed out, almost to the point of vibrating when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Tell me about it." He said, looking up through gorgeous lashes as he poked his tongue out, the tip teasing your clit in soft, delicate kitten licks.

"There was this one time... before we," you moved a hand to your breast, placing it over his. You needed the contact, needed more of Pablo. "Before we got together."

"Oh?" His verbal response was short, but the admission made him use the rest of his tongue, still licking slowly and deliberately, but now capturing more of you with his perfect mouth.

"I was watching you in- ah - in a match," he moved his hand off your chest to lace his fingers with yours. "And you wiped your brow with the hem of your shirt and- ah fuck Pablo." He was now flattening the length of his tongue against you, the soft pressure making you want to buck your hips up into his gorgeous face.

"I really want to hear this story, mi sol. So if I need to stop.."

"No!" You said while shooting up, tightening your hold on his hand. He resumed his pleasurable ministrations and you tried your hardest to form words.

"I saw the bottom of your abs and thought about what it would b-be like if I was on top of you..." He was getting more deliberate now, moving his tongue in figures and slipping it into you occasionally, which made your back arch off the mattress.

"And then you- fuck! You spit on the field and I just.. I.. I had to...Pablo fuck I can't!"

Your eyes were shut now, unable to do anything but whine as Pablo sucked on your clit, rolling it in his mouth before releasing it and fucking you slowly with his tongue. He pulled away completely, kissing you once before he came up to meet you at eye level.

"What did you do, mi amor?"

His eyes were looking at yours with such a delicateness that you almost came on the spot. He looked at your swollen lips, your blown out pupils, the way your chest heaved, and he was ready to pledge his life to worshipping you. He looked at you the way people looked at paintings of angels: in admiration of a beauty too great to be human. He kissed you slowly and deeply, fingers circling your slick entrance.

"It's okay, tell me."

"I... I got off on my couch to the thought of you spitting on me. Or, doing anything to me actually. You don't understand how much I love you, Pablo. Everything you do sets me on fire."

With that, he captured your lips again, swallowing the high pitched whine he elicited by slipping in his fingers. He pumped you slow and hard, making sure to feel every ridge within you, taking his time to find that one magic spot that would return the angel underneath him to heaven.

"I love you more, mi vida." He brought his lips down to your neck, kissing you sweetly, before moving his lips to join his hands. Suddenly it was all too much. His plump and swollen lips sucking on your clit as two of his fingers pumped in and out of you and a merciless pace, and moments later you were grinding onto his face, cutting off his air, and whimpering out how much you loved him and how good he was to you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body arched so far off the mattress you were sure you were floating. When you came down from your high and regained your vision, you brought Gavi up to you, kissing him passionately.

"You're amazing, Pablo. You're always so good to me. So, so good I love you."

"Yeah?" He was leaning over you now, watching you fight sleep while recovering from the power of the climax you had just reached. He kissed your neck sweetly, sucking gently on your throat to leave a beautiful bruise at the base - enough to be visible the next day, but not dark enough to where it couldn't be covered with some makeup.

"Yeah. You're so good, Pablo." You ran your fingers through his hair for the millionth time, keeping him pressed against you, the electricity running through you. You moved one hand down to Pablo's boxers, rubbing his weeping member over his boxers, making his movements falter. His breathing was heavy against you, and you felt his hips move to rut against your palm.

"If you're tired," he panted out, "we... we can stop. I don't want you-"

"No," you moved to sit up, pushing Pablo's shoulders so that your positions were reversed, with his back against the headboard and you straddling his hips. You moved down, lips on his pulse point while your hands helped him removed the boxers caging him in.

"I want to make you feel good, mi Pablito. Let me show you how good you are."

Your naked pussy, still slick from your arousal and Pablo's spit, moved against his leaking cock, the friction driving both of you crazy. You continued to suck on his neck, moving from behind his ear down to his collarbone, and making your way back up to his Adam's apple. It was romantic and slow and sensual, the way his shaft rocked back and forth between your lips.

"Mi amor, so good, I- fuck." It was his turn to be left speechless as you slowly seated yourself on the tip of his dick. Your forehead was pressed against his, and he opened his eyes to gaze into yours as you seated yourself fully. Hands met his hard chest as you struggled to breathe, the stretch too pleasurable for you to want to move an inch. Grabbing at your thighs and leaning back against the headboard, Pablo began lifting you up and fucking into you, slow and hard and deep. He was in 7th heaven, watching the way your eyes watered from the overwhelming feeling of being so full.

"You're so good lito - the best. Fuck, fuck, no one can fuck me like you can."

"Ay mi amor," he sped up, the praise going straight to his libido, "going to cum."

"Cum inside me. Please, Pablo. I'm yours. Make me yours."

He encircled the back of your neck and brought your lips together in a harsh clash of tongue and teeth as he came, moaning into your mouth. He brought a hand down to finish you off as well, forcing his eyes open to capture yours screwing shut in pleasure.

As the two of you laid down for bed, exhausted and ready for sleep, Pablo took his normal place on your chest, bringing up your leg over his waist. He loved to be this close to you.

"So, lito, you think those were real?"

"Your words can lie, mi Doctora, but you of all people should know that you can't fake that death grip. That was definitely real."

It had been a week since then, and the new season was three games deep. Gavi had his insecurities quelled slightly by your consistent affections (and after ensuring he could make you cum), but it didn't make him like Joao any more than before. He still harbored negative feelings towards the Portuguese player. To the other club members, it was understood that Gavi was upset over his childhood friend Ansu being replaced. But to you and his closest friends? It was evident that he wasn't happy with the immediate comfort Joao felt towards you.

"Good morning, doutora! Thank you so much for that late night session - you really worked out my thighs like magic."

"Oh, are you coming out with us to the club? You should - I want to see how you look when you're not all professional."

"The boys from Chelsea say Hi, doutora. They're all telling me how lucky I am to be working under you."

All these comments had gotten under Gavi's skin in the days they were training, and today was no different. While Gavi was running drills, Joao found you on the side of the field and began a conversation with you about F1.

"Oh yeah, it sucks sometimes, but I can't be anything other than a Ferrari fan. I was able to get Pablo into it as well because of the Netflix show."

"Oh, is he also a Ferrari boy?"

"Oh, well he is, but I think he just does that for me. He's secretly rooting for Hamilton every race."

And despite not knowing the topic of the conversation, it absolutely boiled Gavi's blood to watch you talk and laugh so freely with this man who so obviously wants you. His frustration came out on the field, gaining him swift corrections from Xavi to think with his brain and not whatever was angering him at that current moment. When training concluded, he stood near Joao in the locker room, listening to his conversation with Cancelo and Ferran. When the Portugese boy noticed the small Spaniard's stare, he turned to him.

"Great job in training today, Pablo."

"Gavi. Only my parents and my girlfriend call me Pablo."

"Ay, sorry, Gavi. Must have gotten confused after taking to y/n."

"Are you trying to fuck my girlfriend?"

The question sent a shock around the locker room, and suddenly, there was silence. Everyone waited with baited breath to hear the response to the question and the subsequent aftermath.

"What?"

"You have like forty guys on this team that you could be working to get closer to and yet at every opportunity you're beside my girlfriend. So, are you trying to fuck her?"

"No, of course not! I-"

"Then what are you doing?" Pablo knew he was making a scene and that he would be told off for it later, but at the present he didn't care. All he wanted was to understand the plot of his new teammate and potentially his girlfriend's new man.

"Gavi, can we step outside?" Joao's maturity was showing in this moment. He was not about to start a scene two days before he was meant to step on the grass of one of the best clubs in the world. Gavi angrily followed him out of the locker room, prepared to throw insults or punches: whatever the situation called for.

"Okay, Gavi. I'm going to be honest with you because we're teammates and I think we could end up being friends. And because I feel like there's no point in lying. When I first met your girl in London, I thought she was gorgeous."

"I don't know why you thought this would help you build a friendship with me." Gavi deadpanned, anger rising to his throat. His new teammate had 30 more seconds before he lost it completely.

"No I- what I'm trying to say is yes, I did have a crush on her. You're not delusional."

"I already knew that."

"Let me finish!"

"Talk faster!"

"I had a crush on her but then Kepa told me she was with you and I laid off but then I saw her at the ceremony and she said she wasn't dating anybody so then she said her feet hurt from the shoes and she wanted to go back to her room so I walked her there and I asked her out and she said no and I was confused because she was single and she said she was waiting for someone and I just kind of figured it was you because you're the only thing she talked about that entire night and I am very happy for the both of you but feelings don't just disintegrate and I don't want to be a douche who has feelings for your girlfriend so please just tolerate me until I get over mu crush!"

Joao yelled out his entire confession in one breath to answer Gavi's request for speed. It threw the younger boy for a loop, and he was silent for a long moment while he processed what he wanted to say in response.

"So.... you asked out my girlfriend and got rejected?"

"Yes, but before she was your girlfriend!"

"So when my girlfriend was single, free from the guilt of cheating, you asked her out and she rejected you because she was waiting for someone else?"

"Yes."

"Yes let's go!"

Joao was utterly confused by the reaction of the boy. He was ready for yelling, maybe to run for his life, but he never expected Gavi to be smiling, punching the air and celebrating. He turned back to Joao, pulling him into a tight hug and smacking him on the back with strength that bordered on malicious, and then beamed up at him.

"Oh we're going to be just fine. Welcome to the team."

It was the stuff of dreams and fantasy. You couldn't believe the scene before you. On the sidelines at the home game in a full Olympic stadium, the fans shouting at the top of their lungs. Barca had just scored the equalizer against Osasuna, and they were coming off the field, little blobs of neon teal ready to prep for the second half. Felix and Cancelo were stretching, ready to make an appearance. A streak flew towards you, and in the tunnel you were met with a grass-stained Gavi, who hugged your middle and kissed you passionately on the cheek.

"You're doing wonderfully, mi Pablito." You said as you walked towards Ilkay to re-bandage his fingers.

"So are you, mi Doctora."

"I haven't really done anything yet." You said as Gavi moved towards the huddle to hear the second half strategy from Xavi.

"And let's please keep it that way! Don't get blood on your new kit."

And it was almost like you had spoken it into existence. There was an electric energy on the grass in the first half, but when the Joaos came on, it was like something just clicked. There was magic dancing through the air, and it seemed like the ball never left Barca's last third. It was just a matter of getting the timing right. And God, was it breathtaking. The midfield was moving like shadows, unstoppable as they fed the ball to Felix. He worked with Balde on the left, lighting fast reflexes that had you on your feet in an instant. It was an impeccable cross, soaring high above the defense line and meeting perfectly with Gavi, who had somehow levitated a foot in the air, and then was catapulted into the far corner of the net. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and you grasped Nicolas harshly and shook him, nearly throwing him to the ground as you screamed with excitement. Gavi had just scored the goal that put them ahead with an assist from Joao. Twitter was going to go insane.

You jumped on the sidelines, hands digging into the pockets of your jacket. You had finally taken what you see as a rather bold step and gotten yourself a Barca kit. Not just any kit - a home kit with 'Gavi 6' in bright white lettering on the back. You had yet to show it to him, wanting it to be a surprise reward. And there was no more perfect time than today. You daydreamed about his reaction, seeing his name on you. You dared to picture a wide smile, and him pulling you close, whispering in your ear how sexy you looked telling the world you were his.

You exited your daydream in time to witness the horrific scene on the pitch. Osasuna were obviously not happy with the performance of the team, and as usual, Gavi got the brunt of the emotionally charged response. They were shoving him, triple-teaming him, using every opportunity to get him on the ground. As Gavi moved into the penalty area, one of the opposing players decided that he couldn't, under any circumstance, let him score again. His arm went up, and his elbow collided directly with Gavi's right ear. The rest was in slow motion - much like the day Gavi took a knee to the groin. You watched the blunt force cause his skull to recoil, and he fell rather limply to the grass. His teammates gathered around, but you weren't going to wait to be called cover. You grabbed you bag and began pulling on your gloves, but a yell caught your attention. It was Joao's voice that got through to you, and over the roar of fans and coaches and disgruntled teammates, you made out the word 'blood' on his lips, and watched as he pointed to his ear.

You sprinted. Nicolas tried to follow, but even with his long legs he couldn't keep up with your speed. Gavi was on the ground. One arm across his eyes, and you could hear him whimper in pain. You looked around his head and saw them: the bright red drops on the grass, all stemming from the side of Pablo's head.

"Pablo, where are you-"

"Ear. From my ear."

You grasped Gavi's hand, wanting to move his arm so you could see, and he moved his hand into yours so that he could clutch it, squeezing hard because of the pain. You soon saw why. You suppressed your gasp as to not spark fear within him. His ear had been split clearly, the blunt force trauma rupturing the skin and causing heavier bleeding than you had seen in a long time.

"You need to come off, Pablo. You're bleeding badly."

"I want to stay on. It doesn't hurt terribly."

"Pablo-"

"Please. Help me stay on."

You nodded, deciding it was better to act fast than to argue. You sat him up, getting the saline and irrigating his ear from the blood. The cut was worse than you had previously anticipated, as you saw cartilage peak through before for the crimson returned once again. You continued to quickly clean and clear blood, a small mound of blood and iodine soaked gauze forming beside you. There wasn't enough time to give him stitches- even the continuous ones would be too slow. Gauze and medical tape would certainly not be enough to keep his ear covered and clean for these last 15 minutes. And plus, his cartilage was oxidizing quickly. You needed to close the cut, and given the circumstances, there was really only one way to do it.

"Can you handle a little bit more pain?" You met Gavi's wide eyes, and he gave your hand a rough squeeze and nodded gently, trying not to move his head too much. You went to pull your hand from his and were met with resistance. He wasn't able to let go.

"Nicolas, gloves on and hand me the stapler."

He handed you the machine and you instructed him on how to place his hands, closing up the flesh and overlapping the skin. You lined up the gun and repressed the urge to close your eyes. You placed four quick staples in his ear, closing the cartilage in a quick way, heart aching at the sounds he made when each one pierced his skin. You cleaned out the blood one last time, and helped him rise to his feet, met with the cheers of 80,000 culers.

"Come on - you need to be seen by Dr. G on the side before you can continue playing. Make sure they didn't crack your skull."

As you ushered him to the sidelines, the penalty review completed and granted to the blaugrana. Dr. G looked over your work, nodding to Gavi that he could go back onto the field.

"Good work, doctora. He will need reinforced stitches after the match concludes, but you're more than capable."

"Of course, sir."

The boys were all aggregated around the penalty box, clapping Gavi on the shoulder as he returned. Lewy raised an eyebrow in his direction, and Gavi gave him a thumbs up in response.

"Don't worry about me - worry about scoring." He called, falling into place beside Pedri and Joao. His Canarian friend placed an arm around his shoulder, bringing him in silently. It was a nasty hit, one of the worst in a long time, and seeing the blood stop dripping onto Gavi's jersey allowed him to finally breathe more easily.

"You okay?" Joao finally asked, eyes still trained on the preparation for the penalty attempt.

"I can still hear, so I guess I'm fine." Gavi replied, arms crossed over his chest but tone remaining light.

"Scars are sexy anyways." Pedri added, sending Gavi a suggestive look.

"Yeah, Van Gogh didn't get any bitches until that ear was gone." Joao's comment caught the Spanish boys off guard, causing them both to double over in laughter. Gavi gave him a playful elbow to the side as Pedri praised is comedy, and from the sidelines your relaxed slightly, watching your Pablo bond with his teammates. The penalty was brilliant and efficient, and after 15 minutes of you clenching Nicolas' arm and watching for a sprouting of red to emerge on Pablo's head, the final whistle sounded, and the boys approached the crowd to celebrate a hard-earned victory.

The players all shuffled into the tunnel, and Gavi quickly found you, walking with you off the field and placing a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm sorry, mi Doctora - I got blood on my kit." He said softly as the two of you walked through the tunnels, and you couldn't stop yourself from throwing both arms around him and kissing his soft pout. As you moved your arms away, you noticed the red droplets littering the light material of your staff uniform.

"It's okay, mi Pablito, looks like I did too. I can do you stitches at home, but blood is a biohazard, so we need to put this with the medical laundry before we leave."

The two of you walked to the locker room, walking into a closed area just behind that was used for medical exams.

"Can you turn around?" You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"What haven't I seen before?" He asked cheekily, and you rolled your eyes as you pushed his shoulders to make him face the wall. He peeled off his own stained shirt, toeing off his boots and rolling his socks down to relieve the pressure on his calves.

"Can I turn around now?" He asked almost mockingly, and after your agreement, he turned to face you, but meeting your back instead. It took him a moment to understand what was going on, opening his mouth to ask what was going on, but his eyes focused and the words died on his tongue. In bright white text, the saw his name curved around your shoulder blades, his number sitting perfectly in the dip of your back.

"You... my shirt?" He couldn't bring himself to articulate his question more clearly. You knew what he meant, looking over your shoulder, and Pablo was absolutely certain his brain was going to short circuit. It was like there was a halo of light surrounding you, your soft eyes behind beautiful fluttering lashes. Pink lips peaked from above your shoulder, your hair gathered to keep your back exposed. You were wearing his name. You were at work wearing his name, about to walk outside and proudly show off that you were Gavi's. And despite him saying it repeatedly, that was the moment it really clicked in his head. He had you. We were his.

And while he was lifting you up to kiss him, hands harsh on the soft fabric inscribed with his name, people were a step behind, speculating about you being Gavi's as well.

@88rizzing: ok i finally beat @/gaviraconcubine to it - look at these videos from gavis injury. is he holding the girl doctors hand??

412 likes 8 retweets 17 replies

@bigbootybarca: ???? does it just hurt that bad or are they f*******

@alanaTV: yall he's literally getting his ear STAPLED let the man hold onto something

@marcusrashfussy: isnt this the one who ppl posted after the bdor? like the one who hugged gavi?

@gaviraconcubine: ok u got me w that one @/88rizzing but have you seen them walking into the tunnel with gavi on her waist???

881 likes 37 retweets 262 replies

@88rizzing: are you fucking kidding me

@v1scab4rca: AYO??? GUYS ITS PABLO GAVIRIZZ

@4rmy-gyal-4: the bath is ready someone hand me the toaster

@arabianmadridi: at least hes not with the zionest god bless

@loonastansbrazil: @/88rizzing @/gaviraconcubine i got both of yall. i got this pic of them walking out of the stadium.

9,907 likes 424 retweets 1455 replies

The photo was one of the worst quality things on twitter. It was blurry and crooked and extremely zoomed in, but there was no doubt about the subject. Gavi was in his training shirt and his grass stained shorts, socks rolled down to his ankles and Nike slides taking the place of his usual dripped out sneakers. His head was turned to the left, his entire side profile visible. The smile that spread across his face was blinding even in the photo's limited pictures, and his fingers were threaded between those of another person. Your face was turned towards Gavi as well, distorted by your hair on your shoulder. But your back, turned squarely to the camera, was clear as Day with the large '6' contrasting the stripes. The internet was going wild at the thought that he young football star had bagged his doctor.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, mi doctora," Pablo started, laying on your couch with his head on the pillow, injured ear in the air, "but Twitter found out that you're obsessed with me."

Your laugh was faint but audible, and your footsteps coming swiftly down Gavi's staircase. The sutures and other medications were in your hand, and you moved to sit on the couch, laying the pillow and Pablo's head across your lap.

"Well, took them long enough. I've been publicly thirsting over you forever now." You picked up your gloves and tweezers, about to begin the painstaking process of pulling out the staples so that you could drain his ear.

"Can I grab something before you start?" He said, and you paused midair. "Alright, but quickly. I don't want the numbing cream to wear off. I'm tired of you crying on the pillows."

"That was only one time!" He yelled over his shoulder, running up to his bedroom despite your please for him to not run in socks on the tile. He came back downstairs with a large book and a paper bag from the supermarket. He laid back down on your lap, snuggling his cheek into the pillow.

"Okay, I'm ready. Rip my ear open."

You pulled the first staple and watched for his reactions. of which there were very few. You took this as a sign to continue. As you pulled out the second staple, struggling not to tear his skin because it was wedged under the third, you asked.

"When did you start reading, Pablo?"

"Don't worry, it's a picture book." He giggled slightly and cracked open the book. On the first page, sprawled in boyish handwriting and black sharpie, was the title: My Precious Moments.

"What is this?"

"Keep working, mi doctora. I'll read it to you."

He hissed slightly as you pulled out the final staple, and you began the process of cleaning. He turned the first page, and you let out a laugh that surprised even yourself. The first page was your official school photo that Gavi had printed out, your wide smile and white coat looking crisp. He had surrounded your picture with red hearts, a thousand of them all over the page.

"This is Doctora y/n y/l/n," Pablo began reading, and you gently moved the iodine across his skin. "But we never call her that. We call her Mi doctora. She's the most wonderful beautiful sexy fantastic amazing girl, and she's dating you, her Pablito."

He turned the page as you threaded the nylon thread into the needle to begin closing him up. The next page was a collage of newspaper and magazine clippings of Gavi's best moments.

"This is you, footballer Pablo Gavi. Handsome, talented, and always a winner."

"You forgot humble, mi amor." You said with a smirk.

"Oh, you're right. I'll have to add that in later."

He flipped the page once again, and it was a copy of the photo you gave him for Christmas. Around it were several post it notes taped to the pages. They all said various things in Pablo's signature handwriting: 'doctora number - DO NOT LOSE!', 'see girl dr tmr morning for leg stuff', 'doctora coffee order', etc.

"This is you and doctora before she liked you. We definitely already liked her, but we're kind of stubborn."

"What are those? You asked while never taking your eyes off of them.

"They're all the notes I have about you. The ones that I kept around so I wouldn't forget."

You tried to keep the tears out of your eyes, needing one more stitch to be done with Pablo's ear. He turned the page again, and it was a collection of photos of the two of you from the Supercopa, with you and Gavi both holding onto the trophy.

"This is after doctora broke up with her crusty boyfriend. look at how happy everyone is!"

You laughed once again, having to put down the needle and just let out the joy, allowing it to take over your entire body. You picked up the stapler again, placing four quick staples in his ear as he flipped the page again. You pressed onto the newly patched ear, applying gentle pressure. The pages were filled with printed out photos: the sunset over the sea, a bush of bright pink flowers, a fluffy dog smiling widely. An array of beautiful, ordinary things.

"These are all the things we took pictures of while thinking about the doctora. The sun, the moon, bracelets on street stalls, dogs at the park, butterflies on the football field. All the beautiful things that you wanted to capture and give to her. You just didn't know why, yet."

You tapped his shoulder, indicating that he could sit up. He rested his back across the couch, lifting one arm to invite you to lay against his chest. Nuzzling into his side, your head rested against the dip connecting his shoulder to his collar. The next page was from the end of the league, all the stupid selfies the two of you had taken with the La Liga trophy.

"This is when doctora decided to stay in the club. We're so lucky that she decide to do that, because it gave us the time to grow some balls and confess to her. And also, your first La Liga win (in general and with this hottie)."

You kissed Pablo's cheek, whispering how amazing he was against his skin.

"Hold on, I'm about to get more amazing." He said, turning the page. It was only two pictures. The first was a picture of him on stage holding his Kopa trophy, smiling brightly at the crowd. The second was the one Pedri had took while you two were preoccupied with your first "I never want to let you go" kiss. The two of you were wrapped around each other, lips locked, and Pablo's trophy sitting in the bottom of the frame.

"This is the day that we finally became a man. You got a cute award, and you got the love of your life. And we better not be sitting over this and reading it because we fumbled her. Break your face before you fumble Doctora. She'll fix it for you."

The tears were flowing freely now, and you hugged closer against Gavi. You had never been treated so specially by anyone in your life. And here was Pablito, so busy and occupied with being a world class footballer taking the time to make a scrap book of you. He turned the page one more time, and it was a collection of selfies that you had taken with him at home, all cut into hearts and stick on haphazardly. But to you it was the most stunning sight in the world.

"And here you two are. In your favorite place in the world (at home on the couch) with your favorite person. In love in a way that would have made you nauseous last year. So here is a place for you to keep all the precious moments of the two of you, so that you can never forget how far you have come."

He placed the book in your hands, and moved to get up, grabbing the bag he brought down earlier. Your tear-stained cheeks were rosy, and you couldn't even begin to articulate how you felt. He sat back down, pulling you into his lap and cuddling you in his arms. His head was resting against your shoulder, peppering soft kisses to your neck.

"I know it's a little obvious now, mi doctora, but I love pictures. I don't think I ever realized how much pictures meant to me until you gave me one. But when I look at you, I wish I could photograph you every second and then play back every moment. I wish that we could be frozen in these moments, happy and feeling like there was nothing in the world besides each other. But then I realized that no matter the moment, that's how I feel. Every time I'm with you, I feel invincible. I feel like I'm at the happiest I will ever be. And it's all because of you. You are what I want beside me, forever."

He placed the supermarket bag in your hands. You reached in, pulling out a pale blue jewelry box. Your eyes widened, and you swiveled around to face your love.

"Pablo... is this... I look terrible."

"Don't worry, mi amor. It's not a ring. Not yet anyways. We can't get married while you're still in school, cause I don't want our wedding to overshadow your graduation."

"You've thought about a wedding? Our wedding?"

"Of course." He placed a long kiss to the side of your neck. "I've thought about our wedding since before we got together. We're going to get married in the summer, of course. So that we can be tan and gorgeous - not that you're not always gorgeous, but you'll just glow against the white. Like an angel. Or a princess. Or both. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but in my little fantasies before I go to sleep, you're in this long white dress, like something from Disney. And then it would be between seasons, so I can take you on a proper looong honeymoon. Four weeks in a private beach where you pack only bikinis and lingerie. Now come on open it - I got this weeks ago when we were in Madrid and you had to stay for an exam."

You opened the box slowly, not knowing what to hope for exactly. In front of you was a traditional Spanish necklace, almost resembling a rosary. It was silver and pearls chained together, ending in large silver heart with filigree etched into the metal. The lines formed into a cursive 'P' in the center.

"P for Pablo?" You asked with sniffles and tears.

"Yes of course. But that's not even the best part." He whispered, hands coming up to join yours. He grasped the heart and pulled until you heard a faint click, and it was only then that you noticed the hinges. It was a locket. You gently separated the halves, and staring back at you was a black and white photo. It was of you and Pablo, one night when you were laying on his couch like the two of you somehow always did. You were trying to fix yourself in your camera, and Pablo pulled your chin down to kiss you, and you hand snapped a picture. For a few weeks, it was his lock screen, and you had to admit you were disappointed when he changed it to a different photo. But now, seeing it here, feeling the gentle touch of his fingers against your skin as he placed the necklace on you, you had never felt more loved or in love.

"I love you, Pablo. I love being with you. I love being yours."

Those were the only words that felt appropriate at the moment.

"I love you more, mi doctora. I feel like I'm going to love you forever. And that thought used to terrify me. But now, it's something for me to look forward to. Waking up every day to love you."

He reached back into the back, pulling out a small suede pouch in the same light blue. He placed it in your hands as well.

"You're spoiling me now Pablo."

"That's my job."

Pulling the strings, you opened the pouch, reaching in and feeling metal. You pulled on the chain and it slowly rose, ending in a silver key. It was also engraved with the words 'el hogar' on the side.

"I know that we talked about you moving in, but I never want to make you uncomfortable. So for right now, this is just a necklace with a key as the charm." He hooked it around your neck, and it sat beautifully above your pearls. "And when you want, you can use it as a key to your boyfriend's house, for whatever you want really." He turned you to face him, pressing his lips right between your collar bones. "And when you feel like you're ready, it can be a key to our house."

"Our house. I like the sound of that."

His smile was infectious. "So do I."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

And there it is!! Just Pretend, signed sealed and delivered for your pleasure! I am really happy with how this came out tbh, and hope you all enjoy. I have exams and school for the next two weeks so I might be MIA from writing, but I should be back soon. Please if you feel so inclined leave a comment, a reblog, or a message in my ask box about your thoughts/ feelings, and see y'all soon!

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fountainofrubies · 5 months

Text

NSFW Honkai Star Rail : Dan Heng x reader

Sexual content. Adults only!

“You are all work and no play”, you complain, flirting with him as you come into his room. He looks over at you, aloof as always, but pleased to see you nonetheless.

“How are you?” he asks.

You smile, “Better now that I have seen you again.”

He suddenly approaches you and pins you to the wall, pushing his hard cock up against your tingling center.

“You’ll do more than see me.” he says breathily as he pulls his erect cock out, pulls your panties to the side and roughly shoves it into your dripping pussy. You moan loudly as the pleasure grips you and squeezes you from the inside out.

“OH! Dan Heng! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Fuck me, Dan Heng! Ahh! Fuck me-“

You open your eyes from your dream as Dan Heng, whom you have never slept with or even outright hit on, slowly comes into focus. You quickly notice that he is just staring at you with his mouth agape, his face, full of surprise and he is speechless as he withdraws his hand. He was only trying to wake you. He initially thought that you were having a nightmare.. After all, you were squirming and whimpering when he walked past your room. Normally, he wouldn’t ever intrude or come in uninvited, but your door was left open and for whatever reason, you caught his eye. With you being in a recliner only a few feet from the doorway, he really thought that he would gently shake you awake and free you from whatever ugly memories from the past that were now running rampant in your dream world as they often do. With his fragmented memories from his past life often invading his dreams, this was something that you two had in common and had spoken about before during general conversations. So here he was, frozen in the position that he was in when he leaned into your room and reached down to stir you. His jewel like eyes were locked onto you as his mind raced.

As for you, you’re not sure what exactly he heard, but you can somehow tell from your expression that he definitely knows what this dream was really about. You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. “What did I say!?”

His eyebrows raise slightly as he holds his hands up as if to surrender. “I have no intention of trying to make you feel weird about this. I thought that you were having a nightmare, I’m so sorry that I invaded your personal space..”

“No, no, that’s okay, I’m just sorry that I made you feel so awkward. I’m not sure what all I said.. but I am pretty sure that you at least gathered the type of dream I was having.. from your reaction.”

You notice that his cheeks are a bit pink as he smiles weakly, but he otherwise seems composed again. “You don’t have to worry about that.. I mean, I should be flattered right?”

Your eyes widen. He knows exactly what I was dreaming about and who I was dreaming about. You must’ve said his name out loud as well. Your heart is beating fast, but this is your chance. You’ve been around him for some time, but because he has never shown any kind of interest in things like dating or flirting, you were sure that your feelings would not be reciprocated… but since he knows now about your desire for him.. and seems to be flustered, something in you just says “Screw it, shoot your shot.” You give a shy laugh but look at him playfully, “Dan Heng, I have never seen you blush before.” you say in a teasing way. “If I would have known that I could make you blush, I would have tried to sooner.”

He’s smirking now. “Y/N, I’m starting to think that you are flirting with me. You are, aren’t you?” He shifts into a more relaxed stance as he waits for your response.

“Well.. you are the man of my dreams.” you shoot back, slyly.

He looks amused as well, although his heart beat has quickened and his blood is rushing. He wonders what he should do as he stands in your doorway. He laughs softly and nervously. “It seems that way.”

“I mean.. do you want to come in?”

Dan Heng looks at you with a coy expression. Although he hasn’t said anything, he knows exactly what is happening and the truth is, he is rather aroused and interested in seeing exactly how this was going to unfold. He comes in but stands in the middle of your room. He just watches you as you shut the door and lock it.

“I just want to say first, that although I am willing to.. umm.. play.. I really do just want to make it known that I do actually like you, Y/N. I’ve liked you for some time.”

Surprised, you complained, “You never said anything…”

He shrugged, “Neither did you.” He was smirking now.

You begin to remove his coat. He inhales deeply as you push his coat down his arms. He smells good. Well, he always does really. As you lay his coat onto the chair behind you, you return to him as you run your fingers up his arms and over his shoulders, feeling his muscular arms underneath the black, long sleeved shirt he is wearing.

You keep strong eye contact with him, even though you’re full of butterflies. “Is this really happening?” you wonder out loud.

Still smirking, he answers, “It is.”,

Now your hand is running down his chest, and as you reach his abs, you feel their definition through his shirt. “Wherever your stopping point is, make sure that you let me know when we get there..” You’re unsure what exactly he is willing to do.. what he’s wants, what he doesn’t want.

He looks at you slyly and confidently answers, “Don’t you worry about me. After all, maybe this is a dream as well.” He reaches down until his nose is close to mine. Then, he whispers, “Treat this like it is your dream. I’m sure that I will gladly do whatever it is that you want me to do.” His eyes shift to look at you in each of yours.

You close the rest of the gap and lock lips with him, almost dizzy with desire. His lips are soft and warm, but his kiss is deep. Every time his tongue ventures out, he touches yours with it, breathing slightly heavier each time until he pulls back, sounding as if he is ever so slightly panting.

His hands run from your lower back around your waist and settle on your hips. At this point, it feels as if he’s gazing into your soul as he asks you, “Am I gentle with you or am I rough with you?”

You’re breathing heavily as you whisper back to him, “You always start gentle, you always make me beg you before you start to get rough.”

He smiles wide, revealing teeth that almost glitter. His voice is sultry as he shares, “That actually sounds like me.” Your knees feel weak. Before you know it, he picks you up and is climbing on top of you as he places you onto your bed.

He’s boldly presses his body into yours as he holds himself slightly above you, making his very large, very hard erection known. “Mmmm” he groans as you arch your back, filled with desire in his arms. He shifts his weight to lean onto his left forearm in order to hold himself up, yet free one of his hands. He grabs and squeezes your thigh, just below your short skirt and runs his hands up to the point where your leg meets your hip. You feel his thumb make contact with your lips as he rubs it up and down your wet center. You can’t help but moan and it prompts you to reach for the remote on your nightstand in order to play some music to cover any sounds that might be overheard.

You can’t keep your hands off of him, whether you’re stroking his arms through his shirt or running your fingers up his muscular abs underneath it, the only thing that you can think about is how good he feels. Surprisingly, he seems passionately gentle as he leans in to kiss your neck. You begin to pull his shirt up and he helps you take it off of him. He then moves to unfasten his pants. You stare at the obvious bulge in his pants as you remove your panties and slide them down and off of your legs. He gets up for just a moment to remove his pants entirely, and his cock sticks straight out, hard as a rock. Seeing the size of it makes you glad that you told him that you wanted him to start off gently with you. He runs his precum down his length and dips his fingers into your gooey center and rubs that all over his cock as well. “Mmm you’re plenty wet for me.” he said, his voice soft and sexy. You’re speechless, your blush apparent while he lines his cock up with your entrance and looks into your eyes. “Are you ready, Y/N? Do you still want this?”

You’re panting now and shake your head yes as you say between breaths, “Yes.. oh yes.. please.”

He pushes into you just a bit and then holds himself up with both forearms again as he slowly enters you. Your hands stroke him, one in his thick, dark hair and the other caressing him and holding onto the back of his neck. He stretches you open wide as he pushes further into you, always pulling back out in order to make the ordeal wetter and to get you acclimated to his size. He releases the slightest, breathy moan as he pushes back into again. Sounds of pleasure spill out of your mouth as you take him, and you stifle a louder moan as he pushes his length the rest of the way in. Pleasure ripples through your body as he applies pressure and retreats over and over again, slowly and smoothly. His eyes gleam of azure and his perfect face seems to be studying you as he soaks in the sight of this experience. After plenty of smooth, slow strokes, he suddenly closes the gap quickly, pushing into you with a lot more force, making you gasp. As he grasps the top of your shoulder in order to hold you down, he pushes into you again, and his breath hitches just before he lets out a low, breathy moan. You moan louder, unable to help it as he thrusts deeply into you again, continuing this at a much slower pace but with a lot more force than his earlier strokes.

His mouth opens as he exhales, he looks remarkably delicious as he starts to let out more and more sounds of his own in between his strokes.

Who knows how long you’ve been here already as he continues to go in on you. The pleasure builds and builds as you gyrate and rub your clit. He’s clearly enjoying himself, he bites his lower lip as he smiles at you. He’s breathing heavily in between his soft, low moans and the delicious, full length of his cock is bringing you nothing but gripping, mouth watering pleasure now that you’ve gotten used to his size. He pushes his arms underneath your back and reaches up to hold your shoulders, bringing himself delightfully close to your face as you continue to rub your clit. He slams into you once and puts all of his weight into the pressure as if he is trying to reach further up inside of you than ever before and he stays there. He rocks slowly, back and forth as he maintains the strong and intense pressure he has created with this contact. His breath spills out, warming the side of your face and your neck as he lets out of series of soft, breathy moans as he tantalizes himself with the feeling of your tight walls.

“Ahhh Yes, Y/N.” he coos after a moan, “So tell me, do you want more?”

You beg, “Yes! Oh Dan Heng, please! Fuck me faster! Give it to me hard. Please! I want you so fucking bad. PLEASE! I’m begging you...”

He raises his eyebrows again, “How bad do you want it?”

“I need it bad. I’ll do whatever you want, please just fuck me harder. Please, please just fuck me baby. Fuck me.”

“Mmmm” he moans as he softly tucks your hair behind your ear. “I like that.” he says as he grabs your shoulder once more and then roughly presses it downward into the mattress. He then starts to speed up, fucking you faster and faster as he rams into you, holding you down with an intense grip. Not long after this begins, he also begins to moan and breathe hard himself. He continues at an exhilarating pace, pumping and pumping. One minute he’s looking at you directly, the next he’s tilting his head back and moaning breathily as he nails you over and over again, still holding you down so that he can hit you with more and more forceful, greedy strokes. His movements start to become sloppy and his moans more urgent as he continues to fuck you as faster and faster, each with slightly more force than the last thrust. Your moans are constantly coming at this point, softly pouring out and building in volume in between each breath as the pleasure seems to boil over. You go rigid as you grab ahold of his waist. He is obviously in the homestretch as well and watches you closely as you come, moaning his name as you spasm repeatedly, humping desperately and quickly as you cream.

He moans, coming in closer as he still fucks you with speed and force. Now he’s ramming you even more rapidly, “Ah! You’re going to make me come with all of that now..” he warns. “You’re shaking..” He continues at top speed, and you grab him roughly and begin to hump wildly as he rails you.

“Oh yes, give it to me! Come, baby, I want you to!”

He begins to moan repeatedly, hunched over you, fucking you so quickly that he’s breathing rather hard now. His hold on you becomes even more intense as he squeezes you as he begins to approach climax. The sounds he is making are so hot and delicious. His movements start to become unpredictable and choppy, slapping into you and bouncing you upward , regardless of how strong his hold is as he tries to keep you still. He inhaled as if he was holding his breath for quite some time as his mouth opens and he makes eye contact with you. “I’m coming!”, the words spill out of his mouth as he starts to push into you most greedily and even more desperately. His breathing is quick and strong as he half moans, half holds his breath. He’s squeezing your arm very hard as he starts to release, his movements are passionate even though they are slowing. His sounds become softer as he dives into you again and again, repeatedly squirting everywhere that can be reached as he comes deep into your core. Every little splash you feel inside of you is accompanies with a new thrust and a short pause as he moans alongside of each spasm of release. As he finishes, you’re still spasming you, squeezing his cock involuntarily as if you milking him of every drop he’s got.

His moans only grow softer and quieter as his breathing begins to slow down. He looks into your eyes while he is still inside of you and thinks for a second before he speaks. “Was it as good as you expected?” he asked, inquisitively yet confidently.

You reply, breathlessly, almost whispering, “Oh Dan Heng, you are fucking incredible at that.”

Just before he pulls out of you, he kisses you, softly and sensually. “Let’s do this again sometime.” he says with a slow and sexy smile.

Your heart flutters as you get up in order to clean yourself up and put on fresh panties. Dan Heng also carefully gets dressed again after cleaning himself up. As you leave the car, the Trailblazer and March come around the corner of the hallway and see you two.

March, none the wiser, greets you two with enthusiasm. The trailblazer however, notices that both of you had slightly messy hair and your skirt looked wrinkly. He smirks at Den Heng, who raises his eyebrows and asks him, “What?”, feigning innocence. March goes into her room as the Trailblazer stands there for a second. He just smiles at Dan Heng as he smugly and knowingly says “Mhm.” Then he begins walking towards his room, breaking eye contact with Dan Heng, leaving you two alone.

After the trailblazer entered his room and shut his door, Dan Heng, looks down at you, smiling widely and he let out a rare laugh as he rubbed the back of his head. You laugh too. When the hallway is empty, he gently pushes you up against the wall and grabs a handful of your hair. He rubs your clit through your panties as he pulls your head backwards, exposing your neck to his kiss. The Trailblazer, peering outward through the peephole of his door, sees every second of it.

#honkai star rail #dan heng #imbibitor lunae #dan heng x reader #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #so fucking hot #dan heng smut

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dilfhuntersblog · 7 months

Text

loss of mein liebe | könig x f!reader angst (lowercase intended)

TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, severe angst, torture, blood, weapons, mentions of sexual assault (does NOT actually occur), NOT CANON AT ALL, NOT EDITED VERY MUCH, written at 3 am so probably incoherant at some points :p

2,000 ish words

it had been two weeks since she had been taken. kidnapped by the russians after a failed mission. neither kortac nor the 141 (who ironically were working together on this mission) had any idea where she could've been. that was until they had received a small parcel (addressed to konig). inside were her bloodied dog tags. konig immediately threw the items across the room and began researching where the package came from until finally, he was zeroed in on the location. somewhere in liski, russia. immediately, he called an order to drop everything to go save his little liebe.

a few days later, he now found himself alone in the basement of the warehouse, while the 141 scouted the rest of the building. konig walked around the dark, dingy spaces, looking for anywhere his little prinzessin could be. the building was suspiciously empty, the 141 reported, but konig was too focused on finding her to notice how strange it was. after stumbling upon a multitude of empty rooms, he finally came to the last room at the end of the basement hallway. peering inside the small window, he spied his liebe.

bloodied. beaten. unconscious.

he kicked the door open, forgetting all protocol. his liebe was more important. not that it was important anyway. other than konig and his princess, the room was empty.

her wrists are bound by rope and tied to the ceiling, caked in blood as they were too tight. a fresh scar dragged from her eyebrow to her cheek, caked with blood. her feet were an inch off the ground as she dangled from her wrists. her clothes were torn and bloody and her hair matted and dirty. she was hardly breathing. a dirty, bloody cloth was stuffed in her mouth, gagging her, perhaps to muffle her screams while she was tortured. a small, broken camera was attached to the corner of the ceiling.

“nicht schlafen, meine prinzessin…” könig murmured softly in german, softly patting her cheek. he felt his whole body tense up as he came near her--but then, he relaxed. noticing her ragged breathing, he cut off the rope with his combat knife.

placing her onto her feet, he held her steady and gently wiped her scars with his gloved hand. “please. open your eyes…” he whispered.

she stirred gently, opening her eyes and seeing konig. but she didn't see konig. she saw another man - coming to torture her. perhaps kill her. from behind the gag in her mouth, she began screaming and crying, the salty tears stinging the scar on her cheek. she kicked at konig, trying to save herself from more pain.

“schatz! it’s me!” könig cried, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “it’s me! i’m here to save you!” könig loosened her gag and gently pulled it from her mouth as her screams continued. “it’s your könig, your darling, your love… I’ve come to save you--” but her screams continued.

“i’m getting you out of here,” he assured, carefully picking her up and cradling her in his arms. “we have to go, my love. we have to go now.” but she still was in hysterics. flailing, screaming, kicking, crying. so hard that an old stab wound on her stomach began bleeding again. so much that her wrists began to drip blood onto the cold concrete floor.

“stop,” he said calmly in german, attempting to silence her by hushing her into his chest. “sweetheart, calm down. i’m here to save you, and you know it. i know it. but i can’t get you out of here unless you keep quiet.” he took his white handkerchief and carefully covered the wound on her stomach, trying to slow the bleeding. “you have to be quiet for me, my beloved, okay? i know you’re scared, i know i’m the last person you’d ever expect to see right now.”

she tries to talk from behind the gag in her mouth but all that can be heard are muffled cries.

“shh,” he repeated in german, shushing her into his chest once more. “my love, you know i’m the only person who could rescue you. you trust me, don’t you? trust that i’ll keep us both safe and that no harm will come to you while i’m here.” könig gently traced her face with his gloved hand. he carefully removed the gag from her mouth. “i need you to be quiet,” he said one last time.

"please… please don't hurt me." she whimpered.

“shh…” he gently shushed her again, using a finger to silence her. “i haven’t come to hurt you--you know that. i would never hurt you, not on purpose. i just need you to stay quiet while i get us out of here, okay, liebeling?” könig glanced to the door of the dingy, dark, dirty cell, and began planning their exit.

"who… who are you. please i want to go home. please i dont know anything" she begged, still not in her right mind.

“ich bin könig,” he said softly in german, placing a protective arm around her as he spoke softly to reassure her of his presence. “i know you’re confused, my love. i know you’re scared, and that you want to go home. and I’m going to take you home to your safe, warm bed, i promise. i just need you to help me out and stay quiet, okay?”

könig gently caressed her cheek, running his hand through her hair before kissing the top of her forehead.

her eyebrows furrowed. no torturer would kiss her forehead. finally, she looks into his eyes.

"k-konig?" she asked, tears streaming down her face as she remembered her beloved. "how did you find me? you have to go! they'll kill you! please! leave me!"

“no,” he whispered firmly, “i’m not leaving you here. you know i’d never leave you here. ich liebe dich. i love you too much to let anything bad happen to you. and you know that.” he stroked her dirty hair. “we’re leaving together,” he continued, “just please stay quiet. i promise you— you’ll be okay.”

and suddenly, an alarm rings out. they know he's here. they knew konig would try to save her.

it was a trap all along. konig's eyes fill with fear. his little liebe begins to cry again.

“scheiße,” könig swore under his breath, hearing the alarm ring out and the clanging of men’s feet as boots rushed towards the door.

he quickly pulled her into a protective embrace, holding her close to him, trying to think of a way out. there was only one exit in the room and only one way out of the dingy basement hallway. in an attempt to quiet her sobs, he put a gentle hand around her mouth.

“just stay silent, princess,” he murmured in her ear while the soldiers rummaged around. “it’s fine… we’ll be fine.” he promised as the sound of kicked-in doors began to grow ever closer.

even with his hand silencing her, another sob rings out.

“Nnein, nein, meine liebe… du tust mir so leid,” he whispered in german. he sighed and hugged her tighter, burying his face into her shoulder. “alles wird gut sein, nur halt ruhig.” he urged, trying to calm her.

könig held her close to him, trying to reassure her that it would be okay, even if it was a lie.

"well, well, well." a voice rang out. they had been found. the leader of the russian military walked in, a smirk on his face. "we knew you'd come for your little liebe konig." he explained as eight men raised their guns towards konig and the love of his life, who was still bleeding and crying in his arms. her tears doubled after realizing they had been caught. they were gonna die. she knew it.

“tch.” könig narrowed his eyes at the smug bastard standing in his way, clutching the love of his life tightly. he wasn’t about to die here, not when so close to his princess. not when she needed him. and he damn well wasn't going to let her die. that was never an option.

“i don’t care how many men you have, you’re going to have to pry my princess from my cold, dead hands,” he sneered, standing tall and pulling the knife from his belt. Two can play that game.

"hm. so be it! MEN! bring me the girl!" he called. four huge men with even bigger guns rushed forward, ripping the girl from konigs arms, pointing their guns at him to make sure he didnt move. konig raised his arms in defeat. one man escorted her back to the russian leader.

"well. it seems you have lost again, konig. it's a shame i have to kill your little princess in front of you. she is quite delicious" the russian man says, sniffing her neck creepily. she lets out another cry. "shut up!" the russian yells and slaps her across the face, splitting her lip and causing her to fall to the floor. he drags her up and holds a knife to her throat. "any last words, konig?"

"nein! nicht meine prinzessin! take me instead!" he snarled, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. he had to get the girl out of this alive. even if he had to die in her place. the russian man simply laughed.

"oh too late, my boy. i might even keep this one for myself. she's so young and easy to break" he licked her neck, causing her to flinch. "i think i want to make this slow and painful. for both of you," he says cockily.

"nein! ich tue alles was du willst! schatz, lass mich die nehmen, bitte!" könig begged in german, looking around at the four men holding guns to him with a pleading expression. he wouldn't die for nothing, not without trying to save her. he had to try.

"maybe i'll make you watch as i take her. and then i'll make you watch as each of my men take her. only when i'm finished, will i make you watch as i slit her pretty throat and watch her bleed out like the swine she is." he spits.

“du verdammte arschgeige!” König swore in a growl, anger flashing across his face. he wouldn’t be powerless against a man who would harm an innocent girl. with his free hand, he threw his knife at the leader, aiming for the throat. the man simply sidesteps and the knife hits the concrete wall instead, clattering to the floor.

the leader laughs at konig's futile attempt. "well, have it your way. men! restrain him! he's going to watch as the life drains from her eyes." the eight men tie konig up, the same way he had found his princess. hands in the air, feet barely touching the ground. no matter how much konig tried, he could not escape.

"bitte, ich bitte dich! ich will sie nicht sterben sehen! ich liebe sie!" in his panic, könig forgot all of his english lessons and reverted back to his mother language in a desperate and emotional tone. He wouldn't let his girl die! könig struggled as the eight men tied him up, gritting his teeth and letting out frustrated growling noises as he tried to escape.

the russian leader only laughs. konig's princess lets a tear drip down her face.

"konig." she calls. he looks at her, his cerulean eyes full of tears. "it's okay konig. it'll be okay." she says with a knife against her throat. she smiles sadly. "i love you. i loev you so much. never forget that." she said trembling.

könig roared, desperately straining against the ropes that tied him up. tears streaked down his face as he watched helplessly.

“don’t talk like that!” könig cried, his voice cracking. "im going to get ou out of here!"

“ws ist nicht zu spät, schatz, ich liebe dich!” he pleaded, shaking violently and pulling desperately at the ropes. “don’t say it’s okay… ich liebe dich noch mehr!”

"say goodbye to your little liebe, konig!" the russian yells. his eight soldiers all release a booming laugh at konig's desperation.

“du verdammter arschgeige!”

könig threw his head back and thrashed wildly against his bonds, his voice growing hoarse and desperate as he yelled at the leader in a fit of rage.

“ich werde dich ficken, und deine verdammte arschgeige!” he roared, spitting as he shouted at the leader.

the russian man only laughs as he presses the blade into her throat harder and drags it swiftly across, cutting into the girl's jugular. he laughs as she holds her throat and blood spills out. he laughs as she drops to the floor, gurgling on her blood. he laughs as the life begins to drain out of her eyes. through all the blood, she looks to konig and lets out a gurgling "i love you." before she stills.

“nein! nein, meine liebe!” König pleaded desperately. "bleib bitte bei mir! ohne dich kann ich das nicht schaffen!"

but it's too late. konig's libeling is gone. the russian men laugh and walk out of the cell, locking it behind them. leaving konig alone with her lifeless body.

a dark, ominous feeling flooded the air and enveloped the room like a fog as if it were the embodiment of the very hopelessness that hung heavy in the air.

könig fell silent, tears freely flowing from his eyes as he looked down at his princess.

his mind went blank as he stood, bound and helpless, next to the body of his love. her dark brown eyes were still open and her blood ran from her mouth, filling the crevice the scar in her cheek had left.

finally, the ropes gave under konig's constant thrashing. immediately, he ran over to his little liebe.

könig held the body of his princess close to him, weeping silently as he cradled her lifeless body in his arms. the loss of his love felt like a stab to the heart, piercing his chest with such an unbearable pain that he thought he was never going to feel anything again. könig's sobbing continued, drowning in grief and sorrow that was as deep as the very oceans.

suddenly, ghost and the rest of the 141 kicked the door down, guns raised only to be met with the scene in front of them. they were too late.

ghost stood in the doorway, his heart dropping at the sight in front of him. "könig." he said, stunned and hurt. könig looked over at ghost with pained, tear-filled eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around the body of his princess, who lay lifeless in his arms.

"she's gone…." konig said, a tear dripping off his chin and landing on her cheek.

ghost walked over quietly , kneeled down next to konig and reached his hand towards her face. konig, thinking he was going to hurt her, pulls out a gun and holds it to ghost's face. "mate…" ghost says sadly. ghost reaches over to the girls face and closes her gentle brown eyes. "look. now she's sleeping." he said softly. the rest of the 141 boys were quiet, faces downcast, unspeaking.

tears filled könig’s eyes as they watched ghost close the girl’s eyes.

“she looks so peaceful…” könig whispered. He continued to hold the body close to him, a part of him not wanting to let go.

“thank you….” he muttered, lowering the gun.

"mates.. we have to go," soap said to ghost and konig. "we don't want to be here when they come back to find konig."

a dark silence filled the air, the only sounds being the soft crying and sobbing of könig.

könig looked up at ghost, his face contorted with anguish and pain as he sniffled, wiping away tear trails with the sleeve of his shirt.

a nod was the only reply könig could give, and he allowed ghost and soap to lead him to the exit.

konig looked back, hoping that maybe the world was playing some cruel joke on him. hoping that his little liebe would put on her perfect smile and jump up saying "just kidding." pull another one of her silly jokes that konig rarely found funny. but she never did. and she never would.

with the weight of a mountain on his shoulders and pit the size of an ocean in his chest, könig followed ghost and soap as they walked out the door and into the night.

the weight of the world felt like it was pushing down on him, threatening to tear him apart. but the weight of the ring box in his pocket seemed infinitely heavier.

könig's world had been shattered by the loss of his princess, and a piece of him died with her. a piece he would never get back.

i am

so sorry?

for my bad writing

for the scenario :)

169 notes · View notes

margowritesthings · 1 year

Text

Blood On His Hands

pairing: Dutch van der Linde x f!reader

summary: during your time of the month, Dutch offers a helping hand and some advice from good old Mr Miller

word count: 3308 words

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, menstruating reader, period sex, fingering on period, mentions of blood, slight blood play, sexual content, vaginal sex, breeding kink, explicit language and blasphemy

a/n: uhhhhhhhhhhh I have no excuses for this. i just know nothing would ever get between dutch van der linde and pleasuring his lady, and then this happened. whoops. totally get that this one won't be for everyone, but its what i wanted to write so I did hehe

as always, big love to my love @cowboydisaster for beta-ing and reassuring me i wasn't wrecking my own idea every minute of the day

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @beea-nie

did you enjoy this? consider buying me a coffee!

“Y’know, I think the Lord must hate his women, what with all he goddamn puts us through.” You grumble as you enter yours and Dutch’s bedroom, slamming the splintered door shut behind you to stalk right past Dutch, falling onto the creaky bed and shoving your face into your pillow.

“Something bothering you, dear?” Dutch raises a brow before looking over at you. He puts his finger on the line he was reading, to save the page when he closes the book to offer you his full attention.

Your neck strains when you lift your head to meet Dutch’s eye. His stare feels hot and intense, which isn’t exactly unusual for a look between you and him, but is definitely heightened by the hormones raging through you. Your stomach aches and cramps, your pussy practically mewling for a release you can’t even reach right now.

“Just that time of the month, love. Nothin’ to worry about.”

But Dutch’s finger slips out from between the pages, closing the book properly and discarding it on the table beside his chair. You’ve bundled up the blankets beneath you, pressing the ball of wool into your abdomen to let the pressure attempt (and fail) to ease the pain.

Your face is stuffed back into the pillow, so the first indication Dutch has joined you is the dip on the bed. He holds your frame, moving you to your side with such an ease and slotting himself behind you. His large hands cover your stomach, the heat from him comforting and actually soothing you a little. It’s wild to you that the man can somehow numb a pain that whiskey can’t, but that’s Dutch. He’s incredible.

The way you’re laying on the bed, your body the little spoon to his larger one, means that Dutch slots in right behind you. You’re sure he’s not even trying to turn you on, focused only on your comfort, but the incessant poking, ever hardening cock branding onto the side of your ass. You so wish you could turn around and let him have his way with you, but knowing the exact thing that has you so feral in the first place is the one thing stopping you from taking what you want. No, what you need.

Dutch presses a kiss to your temple from behind, his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your belly. It helps the pain, but not the winding feeling tightening your core. Your ass feels how rock hard Dutch is now, and it burns into your flesh until you can take it no more. You grind up against him and he growls deep into your ear. When his tongue slides up the side of your ear, you jolt, and Dutch takes the opportunity to tighten his grip on you and flip you over. He’s hovering above you now, hands roaming everywhere, tongue delving into your mouth as he undoes your shirt and pushes it off your shoulders.

"I once read that it's a scientifically proven fact that cumming for me relieves those sorts of... symptoms." Dutch whispers teasingly.

The war between mind and body rages in your core. Your body is desperate for him to continue, desperate to feel the trail of his fingers lower and lower until they’re buried deep inside you, but your mind seems tethered to taboos hammered into your subconscious by a conservative world. It’s your mind that forces your hand to grip Dutch’s wrist, though your fingers barely meet wrapped around him, stopping him just above your sore abdomen.

“Dutch, we… we can’t.”

It’s an awful feeling, forcing yourself to deny what you truly want, and you curse whatever force or, more probably, some old guy years ago with a quill and a fear of women is making you feel so uncomfortable.

You want nothing more than for Dutch to plunge himself into you and fuck you better, you want nothing less than to disappoint him. You’re surprised when instead of the furrowed brows and frowned lips you’re expecting, Dutch simply smirks.

“My dear… there’s blood on my hands from creatures far less beautiful than you.”

The shock is all you can focus on, so your grip on Dutch’s wrist slackens enough for him to break free and continue his journey downwards. It sends shivers over your entire body and you blink wide eyes up at him, speechless.

“What kind of man would I be…” he starts, expertly sliding the buttons of your pants out of their holes and pulling down the zip, agonisingly slowly.

“… if I could bathe in the blood of my enemies, shed in hatred and violence, but shied away from this, the life force of my love?”

You’re blushing furiously, you’re sure of it, but something in his poetic words, the comfort in his tone, chips away at your shame. It cracks, breaking away to reveal a more vulnerable version of yourself, reserved only for Dutch. This layer of you fears not the judgement or the embarrassment, it cares only for the wants and desires of yourself and Dutch.

And right now, you desire Dutch.

He frees you yet again.

He’s always freeing you. When you met, he freed you from those beliefs ingrained into you by your parents about what society should be, instead showing you how the world is. He freed you from the boundaries you built around yourself, loving you and nurturing you until you found who you really are. He liberated you, quite literally, taking you from your little corner of the world on that ranch and riding you both into the sunset, stopping off at the most incredible places along the way. And now, freeing you from whatever was holding you back from this act with one loving, fervid, searing kiss, breaking away only to add, “But only if you’re comfortable, my love.”

It seals the deal, the absolute devotion in his eyes when he seeks consent and you nod, biting down on your bottom lip coyly. Words are simply too much.

“Oh, good girl…” he seems impressed, glad that you’ve let go just enough for him to experience this with him. Dutch gets back to the task at hand, slipping one of the darker blankets underneath you and hooking his fingers into your jeans and underwear to peel them down your legs.

You try not to think about what he must see down there, and it takes everything in you not to squirm, not to retreat back into thoughts planted in you by others and instead to simply be here with Dutch. The struggle manifests itself in a furious blush on your cheeks and an inability to look anywhere but up at the ceiling of the tent. You miss the stars. You wish you could count them.

Ever the expert on you, Dutch notices your inhibitions winning the battle. He’s hovering just above your heat and he places the softest of kisses just below your belly button. His voice is low when he begins to speak to you, “You know…”

You glance down to Dutch, curiosity overtaking whatever was stopping you meeting his eye, “I was reading earlier and Mr. Miller has some quite interesting views on freedom.” The giggle is inevitable, tumbling from your lips like a waterfall and crashing over Dutch. He’s always talking about Evelyn goddamn Miller, even now. God, you love him.

“Go on…” you reach down to him, tangling your fingers into a stray lock of hair and pushing it behind his ear. You cup his cheek, enjoying watching the flickering candle beside the two of you glistening in his otherwise inky orbs. Your hand looks so tiny beside his chiselled features and you can feel his jaw flutter against your palm. The world melts around you.

“So the question the seeker of allegorical poetry should ask himself-”

Dutch begins to roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, revealing those stunning, strong forearms, “or indeed, herself…” he adds, glancing to you before kissing your belly once more.

“Is this:”

As he crawls back up the length of your body, you can feel hot breath tickling your jawline. Your lips part, desperate for his taste but he denies you for just a second longer.

“Is it in the seeking that we find or the finding that we seek?”

Finally your lips meet, even if it’s far too briefly, Dutch’s hand trailing back down your front as his tongue dances with yours. You’re trying so hard to concentrate on his words that the nerves seem to have dissipated into the air.

“While this may seem like a pathway towards insanity…”

On insanity, he pinches one of your nipples between his fingertips softly, but just hard enough for the sensation to travel down your centre, the feeling everywhere, and a moan escapes your lips.

“…it’s an important distinction, and also a clear one.”

The trickle of his fingers running down your stomach sends ripples of sensation over the rest of your skin. You are no longer thinking about your reservations, only Dutch and his words and the passion in the way he speaks them.

“She who finds things is wise…”

You lose his touch, but somehow know his fingers are lined up at your entrance. You’re quivering with anticipation.

“…but she who continues to seek…”

You hang on his every word.

“…is evermore free.”

Two fingers plunge into you, curling up deep and hitting your sweet spot with the confidence of a man who knows every inch of you like the back of his hand. It’s different. It’s incredible. Even with just two of Dutch’s fingers, you feel full.

He gives you a second to adjust, before sliding his fingers almost all the way out, only to push them back in until his rings are practically steaming against your heated flesh. With this movement, his thumb lands on your clit and begins to move slow, gentle circles in time with his thrusts.

You see stars. You don’t have the capacity to count them.

“O-Oh my god- Dutch!”

“I know, my dear, I know… doesn’t it feel good? To seek?” He whispers right into your ear, so close his moustache tickles your lobe. All you can do is nod, biting down on your lip so hard it will surely swell in the morning. You feel a million times more sensitive right now, every bit of pressure or movement on your nub hurtling you closer and closer to what surely must be oblivion.

“I’m so proud of you, exploring this with me, letting me show you what we can find together.” The praise washes over you, working in perfect tandem with Dutch’s expert hands to wind your coil tighter and tighter until you’re all but a babbling mess, wantonly pressing your hips up to meet Dutch’s hand with a harsher force.

Somehow, you manage to finally flutter your eyes open, finding Dutch smirking as he watches you come undone beneath him.

“That’s it… good girl. Let go, princess, I’ve got you…”

Of course he does. Dutch would die for you. Dutch would kill for you. He’d do this for you, and you wonder how you could have ever hesitated.

The wonder is brief, cut short when Dutch van der Linde steals every coherent thought from you the second he slips that third finger in knuckle deep. You scream out his name, arching your back, the woollen blanket beneath you scratching at your shoulders.Dutch continues to orchestrate your euphoria, pumping deep in and out of you and circling your clit just how he knows you love it. It’s so intense and there’s so many stars you’re not quite sure you could count them if you had all the time in the world.

You come down slowly, guided by Dutch’s voice. Your legs tremble and your cheeks feel wet, though you’re not sure when the tears fell, most likely glistening in the light of those stars you saw just seconds ago. They’re replaced instead by Dutch, who is running gentle fingers of the hand not currently sliding out of you through your hair.

“Oh, my good girl. My beautiful, good girl, doing so well for me…” He knows you, so knows when you make it back to this realm. It’s in the way you smile at him, the way the spark returns to your eye. He smiles right back, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You’re too quick for him, though only because he’s certainly not expecting much energy from you after that orgasm, snaking a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss you properly. Passionately.

Your tongue demands entrance and Dutch is happy to oblige. You hear that low growl deep in his chest and the vibrations seem to reverberate through you, spurring you on like a siren’s call. The ache in your abdomen is long forgotten, inhibitions beaten to a pulp and left on the side of the road to die. It doesn’t even phase you when Dutch pulls back to wipe down his crimson right hand on his shirt and you spot the blood splattered on his arm. It’s actually… pretty goddamn hot. He’s right, if the image of him coated in the blood of his victims is enough to set you off, what could be so wrong with this? An act of pure devotion, love and sex in their rawest, most vulnerable forms.

His shirt is left with a scarlet handprint Dutch will surely later claim belongs to an O’Driscoll, but that doesn’t matter for long as he pulls it off his shoulders and discards it to the ground. He unbuttons his pants, slipping them off before returning to you, his body covering and warming yours before you can even realise you’re shivering.

“You astound me every single day, my dear…” He speaks so quietly, seemingly afraid of bursting the bubble formed around the two of you, cutting you off from everything and anything but each other.

“Gotta keep seeking…” You quip, unable to keep the cheeky smile from your lips when you watch Dutch realise you’re the one quoting Evelyn Miller now. He kisses the corner of your lip, where the smile first started to tug. It’s a playful kiss, at first, but with each second that passes the laughter dies, he holds you tighter and the passion bubbles to the point you feel you might shatter if you don’t have him soon.

“Dutch…” You gasp breathlessly, the neediness in your tone working with the gyrating of your hips to let Dutch know just what you want, as if he’d ever need the help figuring it out. When you feel the head of his thick cock lining up at your entrance, you think of how much tighter it felt with Dutch’s fingers. About half a second before the anxiety can manifest itself, Dutch pushes into you. It’s euphoric, like no fullness you’ve ever felt before. There’s definitely a stretch deep inside, but the ever so slight pain only seems to burn the pleasure brighter. The noise that escapes your lips is obscene, and Dutch dips down to catch it with a deep kiss. Part of him definitely does it so that that noise can be reserved for only him, but the other half of the kiss holds a message: I’m here. He’s right here with you in this, holding you in a way that shields you from everything. In this moment, at your most unguarded, you know you can trust Dutch van der Linde with your life. With everything.

And you suddenly find what you seek.

When Dutch’s hips pull back, you feel every ridge, every vein, so beautifully massaging you that you experience it head to toe. He pushes back in, and you feel every muscle that twitches in his hard back under your fingers.

“Some beings, my dear, will never truly appreciate what your body is doing right now…” He growls, picking up a rhythm and hitting that sweet spot he seems to have a map to every damn time. It sends you dizzy and you can feel your heartbeat throbbing deep in your cunt, “But I do. It’s magnificent. You’re magnificent, and one day this cycle you endure will allow me to fuck my babies into you…” His rhythm picks up and you feel yourself climbing, serenaded by his words. You’ve never talked about babies before, but the way Dutch’s breath tickles your ear, the way his words harden your nipples and steal the breath from you, you suddenly know you want that more than anything.

Yet another discovery.

“Oh, God, Dutch, I-I’m gonna-”

“That’s right, princess… Cum for me. You wanna cum with me, baby? Let go for me.”

And how could you not?

Dutch seems to sense the impending scream, pressing his thumb into your mouth to let you bite down on it. You do. Hard.

It’s as though every piece of you explodes, crashing into all the pieces of Dutch and bonding to them forever. The rushing blood in your ears is the only other thing you can hear but Dutch’s visceral groans as he too loses control, his once steady rhythm growing erratic, his thrusts getting harsher and harsher. You never knew an ache could feel so good until right this moment.

And just when you feel like you’re in orbit, like you couldn’t possibly reach a higher ecstasy, Dutch presses the thumb not clamped between your teeth onto your clit and starts to rub.

And you get it. You really, truly understand it. Mr Miller is right, he’s so damn right.

This, the comfort you find in being in Dutch’s arms that unlocks the ability to just keep seeking more from life, this is true freedom. He holds you and guides you from one life changing find to another, allowing you to shape what you want from the world and doing everything he can to bring it to you. The two of you find magical things, like the carnal lusts you experience near nightly, but with his encouragement and love, you continue to seek. You seek times like these, where you’ve never been so vulnerable with another and yet have never felt pleasure and connection so all-consuming.

You and Dutch, when you’re together…

You’re evermore free.

Free to seek and find, and then keep seeking until you reach this: true bliss.

You cum to the sweet melody of Dutch’s moans and praises, wave after wave radiating over you. Your toes curl; your nails dig into the skin on Dutch’s back, surely ripping it and shedding more blood between you. You can feel your pussy clenching around Dutch’s entire shaft, which twitches madly as it pumps you full of his hot spend.

It feels as if it lasts forever, like when you blink your eyes open the world will have ended, leaving you and Dutch to fuck into eternity and repopulate the Earth. You’d do it. Gladly.

Alas, when you do open your eyes, you’re met with the world, just as it was when you seemingly left it. Your world: Dutch. His arms are tense around you, as to not let his entire weight crush you and when he slips out of you, he lowers himself to your side. You see the blood on his right hand, but it doesn’t look too unlike the blood on your own hands. You’re breathless, feeling the laboured rise and fall of Dutch’s chest when you rest your head on it, but you just about manage to whisper to him, “Sorry for scratching you…” with the cheekiest smile on your swollen lips.

Dutch raises a brow, entangling his cleaner hand with one of your own and raising them both to the candlelight to inspect the damage.

“Y’know… I quite like the look of my blood on your hands, my dear.”

You grin, thinking of the long forgotten cramping and bad mood you once knew.

“Likewise, Mr. van der Linde.”

#Dutch Van Der Linde #Dutch Van Der Linde smut #Dutch Van Der Linde x reader #Dutch Van Der Linde x you #dutch van der linde fanfiction #rdr #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #Dutch Van Der Linde fanfic #Dutch Van Der Linde imagine #rdr imagine #rdr fanfic #Dutch rdr2

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goodqueenaly · 4 months

Note

Do you think Cersei is cognizant of the similarity between her own punishment and that of her grandfather's mistress? Or is she too myopic to see even that?

Oh, the comparison is clear, pointed, and deliberate. Cersei herself details the punishment mandated for her grandfather's mistress just before her own walk begins:

Septa Scolera finished. “So now this sinner comes before you with a humble heart, shorn of secrets and concealments, naked before the eyes of gods and men, to make her walk of atonement.” Cersei had been a year old when her grandfather died. The first thing her father had done on his ascension was to expel his own father’s grasping, lowborn mistress from Casterly Rock. The silks and velvets Lord Tytos had lavished on her and the jewelry she had taken for herself had been stripped from her, and she had been sent forth naked to walk through the streets of Lannisport, so the west could see her for what she was. Though she had been too young to witness the spectacle herself, Cersei had heard the stories growing up from the mouths of washerwomen and guardsmen who had been there. They spoke of how the woman had wept and begged, of the desperate way she clung to her garments when she was commanded to disrobe, of her futile efforts to cover her breasts and her sex with her hands as she hobbled barefoot and naked through the streets to exile. “Vain and proud she was, before,” she remembered one guard saying, “so haughty you’d think she’d forgot she come from dirt. Once we got her clothes off her, though, she was just another whore.”

And lest anyone think Cersei is not internally comparing herself in this moment to that unnamed mistress and their respective punishments, she adds these thoughts:

If Ser Kevan and the High Sparrow thought that it would be the same with her, they were very much mistaken. Lord Tywin’s blood was in her. I am a lioness. I will not cringe for them. The queen shrugged off her robe. She bared herself in one smooth, unhurried motion, as if she were back in her own chambers disrobing for her bath with no one but her bedmaids looking on. When the cold wind touched her skin, she shivered violently. It took all her strength of will not to try and hide herself with her hands, as her grandfather’s whore had done.

Now, Cersei doesn't explicitly think about the candlemaker's daughter again, but I believe the above is more than sufficient to say that Cersei has the historical memory of her grandfather's mistress' punishment front and center in her mind during her own walk (not the least reason because Cersei ends her walk, as that woman was said to have done, by "hobbl[ing] bareful and naked" while making "futile efforts to cover her breasts and her sex with her hands").

Nor does the comparison have to have ended merely because Cersei is no longer literally walking the streets naked. Tywin punished his father's mistress explicitly for sex: as she had been "scarcely one step above a whore", in the words of Kevan, so Tywin would have her "paraded naked through the streets of Lannisport, to confess to every man she met that she was a thief and a harlot". Likewise, Cersei's crime, for which the walk ostensibly served as atonement, was sex, plain and simple - not sex which Westeros considers treasonous or abominable in its own right (that is, her relationship with Jaime, which Cersei maintained to the High Septon did not happen), but sex which her accusers and onlookers considered consensual (put aside the fact that we as readers know that she raped Lancel and that she obviously did not desire a physical relationship with Osney Kettleblack); it's no coincidence, in turn, that her punishment specifically weaponizes her sexuality against her - literally parading her naked for everyone to jeer, taunt, and assault - nor that virtually every insult aimed at Cersei during this walk is sexual in nature. The aim, for both, was not simply to humiliate them but to eliminate them as power figures in their own right, by portraying their sexuality as shameful and criminal: just as Tytos' mistress "walk spelled the end of her power" because "[o]nce we got her clothes off her ... she was just another whore", so Kevan thinks that "Cersei was soiled goods now, her power at an end", because "[e]very baker’s boy and beggar in the city had seen her in her shame and every tart and tanner from Flea Bottom to Pisswater Bend had gazed upon her nakedness". Too, just as Tytos' mistress was marched to the docks after her walk, presumably either to go into exile or to be confined to a likely area for sex work (either way, away from the home she had found with Tytos at the Rock), so Kevan plans to "return [Cersei] to Casterly Rock after the trial and see that she remains there”, with "no further voice in the governance of the realm, nor in Tommen’s education" - exiled, in other words, from King's Landing, to serve her dynastic role as Lady of Casterly Rock instead of her personal (and personally political) role as the king's mother and regent.

#asoiaf meta #adwd #cersei lannister

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girls-alias · 4 months

Text

Dean's Dream P8

Title: Dean's Dream Part 8 Words: 3,688 [Didn't realise how long this chapter was but I hope you enjoy 😁💟] Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW: Strong language

Part 7

Y/N's POV:

None of my memory before my coma came back, I learnt to accept that Dean was only a figment of my imagination. Years ago when I had gone looking for Dean I returned home, spoke with my therapist and worked hard to heal. My therapist seemed relieved that I now shared his belief that Dean wasn't real but seemed sad as he recognised that all I had been fighting for was gone. I had a rocky recovery, often mourning the anniversary as it passed me by.

It's been 4 years now. I still think of him, I still think I see him in crowds but it isn't as frequent as it used to be. I isolated myself from the world, even a short walk to the shop was upsetting to me as seeing happy couples or thinking I see Dean shakes me to my core. I haven't had the strength to say his name out loud since I came back from Salt Lake City and doubt I ever will. My soul is empty and no matter how hard I fight, I know there is no one cheering me on or smiling that I'm still here. I'm a shell of a person and doubt I will ever truly be happy because my happiness wasn't real.

I sat in my apartment crying for the billionth time, hugging my pillow tight to my chest. Closing my eyes as I picture Dean hugging and comforting me like I always did. Knowing he'd never truly be here.

Dean's POV:

Life feels like a blur. Once Sam and I left Salt Lake City, I isolated myself a little, finding comfort in being alone and imagining she was real. I would often find myself talking in an empty room, imagining she was with me but as soon as I was distracted, she was gone. The breakdowns it caused only hurt more because like in the dream she felt real.

Even after 4 years, Sam is still worried about me. We barely talked about her and it took me a while to get back to my normal life. I was never fully healed as every time I went back and was alone it reminded me that the perfect woman wasn't waiting for me. She wasn't real and I need to learn to accept it. There was a time, on a hunt, when we saved a girl from a burning building and she said Y/N was still inside. I rushed in, looked everywhere and it messed me up. I was burnt, I inhaled smoke and found that she wasn't my Y/N. It ruined me as it reminded me that my Y/N isn't mine and she isn't real. I'll never find her and she'll never be in my arms.

She made me a better man, I never kissed anyone after her, never even thought anything sexual for anyone but her. Sam thinks it's not good to still miss her but has used it to our advantage at times. His most painful one was when we got caught by a group of demons, we had fought as best as we could but were defeated. I gave up so deeply that I didn't even make sarcastic comments or insults. They had beaten us until we were barely conscious, blood and bruises covering us as we sat tied to the chairs.

"Dean, they threatening her," Sam tried.

"What?" I asked confused thinking it was some code I couldn't decipher. The group of demons looked at Sam confused.

"If they kill you, Y/N dies too. They're going to kill her," I filled with rage. I know he's just trying to get my fight back but he doesn't have to hurt me in the process.

"Y/N, huh?" A demon asked approaching me with a smirk. "Oh, Dean's in love. Don't worry, Sam right. I'm going to find her, I am going to pull her nails, her teeth, her hair out. She'll scream for your help but you'll already be dead." The demon smirked. I clenched my jaw and fists. I blacked out from the rage poisoning my veins.

The darkness cleared as I stood, beneath me were all the demon's bodies. I must have gone crazy with my anger as Sam looked terrified. I didn't know I had the strength to even stand never mind fight the group of them and win. I'd untied Sam, punching him in the stomach for manipulating my emotions.

Y/N's POV:

I sighed putting my headphones on, it was time to leave again and I was taking the necessary steps to allow me the strength to leave the house. I walked to therapy, head low, hood up as I made my way there, I ignored the world around me. Once in his office, he smiled reassuringly.

"How've you been this week?" Noah asked, opening his file to start taking notes. I sighed as I slumped back in my seat.

"Same as always," My tone flat, like usual. Noah nodded as he wrote in the file.

"So, no memories." He spoke to himself as he wrote. We'd given up hope that the memories would come back but always asked on the off chance. "How many times have you thought you'd seen Dean this week?" He asked looking at me deeply. I sighed, my eyes closing from the pain squeezing my heart and throat making it hard to speak.

"4," I admitted, he nodded, watching me. Waiting for me to explain.

We were just wrapping up our 2-hour session when Noah walked me to the door. "Oh, have you decided where you're going on your trip?" He asked nonchalantly. I shrugged. "Do you think Salt Lake City?" He asked, shocking me. We haven't mentioned Salt Lake since I got back. Why bring it up now?

"I hadn't thought of it, why?" I asked but he shrugged.

"Just thought you might have fun. I'll see you in two weeks," He added. I walked out confused. I started walking home wondering why on Earth he had thought that. I put my headphones on as I walked, my eyes staying low.

Dean's POV:

I pulled up to the diner Sam and I were going for lunch as a break from the case. I was in a world of my own as Sam talked about the case. My mind only went to Y/N as I wondered about going back to Salt Lake City. I don't know why but I felt a strong urge to go back and check if she was there on the off chance.

"Are you even listening?" Sam asked grabbing my attention. I looked up at him as he stared expectantly. I rolled my eyes at him but froze. Y/N! Looking out the diner window, and over Sam's shoulder I saw her walking past. I had seen her hundreds of times but this felt different, the sun was reflecting on her face, her hair softly blowing in the wind.

"Do you see her?" I asked Sam quickly, not taking my eyes off her in case she disappeared. Sam turned around and shrugged. She's fake. Just my imagination hurting me again. Sam turned back looking a little confused only confirming that she wasn't real.

"The hot girl?" He asked, I quickly looked at him, eyes wide before rushing up from my seat. "Dean?" Sam called after me as I hurried through the diner, dodging people as I rushed to the door. I swung it open, running after her. She's real. She has to be real.

"Y/N," I shouted, probably louder than I should have but she didn't react. I stopped in my tracks, it mustn't be her. I sighed as I watched the back of her hair, tears filling my eyes as I was once again reminded she wasn't real. She stopped at the edge of the path. She looked to the left, checking there were no cars. I saw she had headphones on and still looked like her. I gasped, resuming to run after her. What do I even say to her? What if she has no idea who I am? I just have to introduce myself, if she doesn't know me that's fine. If she's single I'll just flirt and she might fall in love with me.

Y/N's POV:

I checked the road, I know I don't have anything to live for but jumping in front of a car seems excessive. I waited as cars passed, rolling my eyes as I just wanted to be home. Crying into my pillow and thinking of Dean. I jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I took an earphone out as I turned around. Something must have fallen out of my pocket or something. I turned to see a very hopeful-looking Dean. The air in my lungs left. I was frozen in place.

He smiled, admiring me. Is it Dean or does he just look like him? I was in a coma, there's no way he was in the dream with me.

"Hi," He finally said. From his starstruck expression, It seemed like he knew me. I smiled softly, admiring the green eyes I had forgotten the details of over time. God, they're even better than I remember. I bit my lip as I watched him. Maybe I should say something. What do I say?!

Third-person POV:

Dean admired her, seeing her in front of him was surreal to him. He had imagined, he had dreamed and hallucinated she was real but here she was and he couldn't believe it. Neither could she.

"I don't want to sound crazy so, hi, I'm -"

"Dean?" She questioned, although she hadn't said his name in 3 years it still slipped from her tongue like silk. Her eyes filled as she recognised saying his name healed her heart a little. It was all the confirmation he needed to know she was real, she was in the dream and she loved him. He smiled a wide grin as he looked at her. She smiled brightly, recognising it was really his name and he was there.

He wasn't sure what to do now, he had dreamed of meeting her but now he felt nervous knowing she might be different from her dream. 4 years have passed, maybe she moved on. He wanted to do something, offer to spend time with her but he doesn't know what to do.

"Are you single?" She asked, he looked at her a little confused.

"Yeah," He responded a little confusion showing in his tone.

"Good," She smiled. Her hands moved to him, quickly. Her hands are on the back of his neck as she pulls him in. Their lips connect in a passionate kiss. Dean's hands found her waist, pulling her deeper into him, deepening the kiss. She smiled against his lips, Dean soon doing the same. Finally, in each other's arms, hearts healed. The kiss felt the same as all those years ago, the love still there, the way they kissed the same way but this time was different because they had waited so long and both believed it would never happen again. Dean's hand moved to her cheek, holding her as if she might disappear again. They continued the kiss even as Sam approached them, confusion riddling with his expression.

From Sam's perspective it looked as though Dean had simply wanted the hot girl as she passed the diner, now that he's followed him he expected to see him flirting, trying to get her number. And yet, Dean is making out with a seemingly stranger. He wondered if losing Y/N had finally made him go mad.

"Hello?" Sam exclaimed, unsure of what to say. Dean knew instantly it was Sam and he should probably pull away from the kiss to introduce them but he's waited 4 years for this and didn't want it to ever end. Not after his heart was so broken before. She pulled away, much to Dean's dismay. She smiled at him before turning to Sam. Her mouth dropped open as she rushed to hug him.

"Sammy!" She exclaimed excitedly. Her best friend is finally here. She missed having him to talk to, he always listened without judgment and was great at giving advice. Sam looked at Dean confused as she hugged him, he hugged back to be polite once he noticed Dean's eyes admiring her as he smiled brighter than he'd ever seen him smile before. The wheels in his head turned slowly but once he realised he pulled away to look at her. He cupped her face in his hands, looking her over. His mind was swamped with how she could be real or if she was a deceitful monster. She smiled brightly, chuckling slightly.

"Wow, don't kiss my girlfriend," Dean commented, getting closer to move Sam's hands from her face. Dean and she shared a telling smile at his words. Dean wrapped his arms over her shoulder, keeping her close to him as he kissed the top of her head.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. I assume you don't know me but we were best friends," She introduced holding her hand out to him. Sam smiled, shaking her hand.

"We didn't think you were real, I saved Dean but you weren't there," He explained, confusing her slightly. Her eyebrows furrowed softly as she looked at him. "The Djinn, that's how you were in the dream, how did you get out?" He asked, now convinced she wasn't real just some kind of shapeshifter or demon. She has to be.

"I was in a coma for 3 months, that's how I was dreaming of Dean. What do you mean Gin?" She asked, Dean glared at Sam as he had made the encounter awkward and probably confusing to her.

"Go back to the diner, we'll be there soon," Dean instructed to Sam as if warning him that if he stayed he would hurt him. Sam hesitated. When he didn't move Dean rolled his eyes. "Just get her the same as me, we'll be there soon," Sam thought it was a bad idea. It's probably a monster or demon messing with Dean's emotions.

"We need to do the tests," Sam said quietly to Dean as if she couldn't hear him but she did and was confused. Tests? She thought. Dean groaned, tipping his head back, done with Sam.

"We'll do them in the diner, walk away," Dean instructed warningly. Sam hesitated but made his way back to the diner.

Y/N looked at Dean confused but he smiled and she couldn't stop herself from smiling back. He guided her to a bench where they sat close to each other. Dean faced her as he held her hand in his lap. She waited patiently for him to explain.

"You're understanding and I shouldn't doubt you wouldn't believe me but you just have to let me explain okay?" He asked, she worried slightly but nodded knowing he was the same Dean she would have trusted with her life. He smiled at her movement, squeezing her hand slightly to calm his nerves. Knowing she was real was enough to give him the strength to explain. "Sam and I, in this world. We hunt monsters," He hesitated as she looked at him confused. Waiting patiently for him to explain, he smiled knowing she was willing to listen. "Monsters, demons, angels, they're all real and Sammy and I save people from them. The Djinn, Sam mentioned. They abducted me and they have the power to put you in your dream life, my life with you, but Sam saved me and I woke up. I searched for you but I couldn't find you and I even tried to get abducted again to see you but I couldn't," He explained, holding her hands close as he feared she would pull them away and leave again.

He watched as her eyes wandered around, thinking. She was clearly confused and startled by the information and Dean grew anxious as he waited for her response. She nodded softly, processing it.

"So you were put in your dream life by a monster?" She asked slowly, Dean gulped, eyes filling as he feared she would call him crazy. His breath quickened as he nodded, not able to say a word. His heart preparing to break. "Okay," She added, nodding and smiling softly. He was confused, startled almost at her response. His eyebrows furrowed as he admired her. She chuckled softly. She moved her right hand from his, his disappointment written across his face but her hand moved to his cheek, filling him with hope and love. "Dean, I was in a coma and dreamed of our lives together, I spent 3 years thinking I made you up and thinking I was insane. Knowing you're real and you were in the dream too is also crazy so it only makes sense that crazy things caused it." She explained, rubbing her thumb on his cheek slightly as he instantly felt eased. He sighed, smiling brightly. Leaning in to kiss her. She smiled into the kiss, her hand moving from his cheek to the back of his neck as his hands moved to her hips.

He lifted her from her seat, sitting her on his lap so she was straddling him. She giggled against his lips. "We're in public," She explained leaning back to smile at him but his bright smile never wavered.

"I don't care. I finally found you, they can look all they want," He explained before his hand moved to her cheek, pulling her in and back on his lips. She smiled as she kissed him. They sat making out for a while before Dean pulled away. She looked at him confused but he chuckled, tucking some hair behind her ear as he admired her. "I'm getting too excited," He explained making her giggle as she realised his meaning. She nodded, moving to get off of his lap but his hands anchored her back down. She giggled as she looked at him confused. "Give it a minute," He commented making her laugh as she blushed. He smiled, taking the time to admire her. "Why didn't you believe I was real for only 3 years and not 4?" He asked curiously. She smiled just from hearing his voice.

"I woke up after we kissed and believed you were real. Even when everyone was telling me it was a dream. 1 year after I woke up I went to Salt Lake City to look for you. I waited outside the house we had, Sam's wasn't there anymore and went to a cafe and finally believed you weren't real," She explained sadly. Dean perked up at her words chuckling softly.

"May 3rd?" He asked making her chuckle.

"Yeah, you woke up at the same time?" She asked but he smiled.

"I woke up after the kiss as well. I did the same thing. We must have missed each other," He explained not realising how close they had been to meeting all those years ago. They smiled, sharing another kiss before they stood. They walked hand in hand back to the diner.

"I love you," Dean confessed as he stopped at the door. She smiled brightly.

"I love you too," She admitted with a soft chuckle. He kissed her again feeling like he needed to kiss her enough to make up so much lost time. She smiled against his lips finally feeling that she had her reason to live again.

They walked into the diner, returning to Sam as his spine straightened at their presence. She smiled warmly as she slid into the booth, Dean soon following her and holding a hand on her thigh needing physical contact at all times. He held the top of his hand as she smiled at Sam. Sam looked at them slightly confused.

"We can do the tests if you want?" She questioned, he smiled softly before going into his bag.

"You tell her?" Sam asked, Dean smirked as he looked at her admiringly.

"Yep, just as understanding as before," He commented making her smile as she blushed. He kissed her sweetly but she pulled away quicker than he wanted.

"You won't remember but we had rules about PDA in front of Sam," She commented but Dean groaned, his head tipping back but smile never fading.

"You don't mind do you, Sammy?" He asked, prompting Sam to agree but Sam's face didn't confirm it. She chuckled as she shook her head.

"You've waited 4 years, you can wait till we're alone," She commented but Dean smirked.

"Oh, you want to be alone with me," Dean teased making her laugh. She playfully rolled her eyes as Dean smirked.

Sam did the tests finding she was clean and real. He instantly calmed, wanting to know everything she remembered about the dream as they ate once their food arrived. He admired how Dean watched her, how they seemed to quickly fall into a routine and comfort. He slid his drink to her, and she picked out the lime and placed the pickles from her burger on his plate, both acting as though this was normal even though in reality they had just met. Sam's smile never faded as he watched the scene.

Once they had finished eating Dean draped his arm over her shoulder, holding her close as he admired her telling the story of Sam's birthday, Dean giving input on his perspective as he was present at the time. She smiled brightly as he spoke, admiring him, memorising all she had forgotten.

Neither knew love would be this simple or happy. Both realising the wait was worth it and souls returned as their closeness brought the joy in and sorrow out. Sam couldn't have imagined how Dean would be around her, never seeing his brother in love before made it seem even more surreal to him. Dean often stole short but sweet kisses, his smile never leaving his lips. She held her hand on his thigh as he drew patterns on her shoulder. She rested close to him, happy for the first time since she woke up.

Masterlist

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester fic #dean #dean winchester x reader

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wen-kexing-apologist · 3 months

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Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

Hello! After a holiday hiatus, I am returning to @bengiyo's queer cinema syllabus. We will be ringing in the new year with Unit 4: Heartbreak Alley, the totally light-hearted, definitely not agonizing section of the syllabus where I get to watch countless acts of violence be committed against queer people. That fuck I have Lesbians waiting for me at the end of this unit. The films in Unit 4 are: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004) [cannot for the life of me find this film], Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993), The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the SIde (1995)

Today I will be writing about

Brokeback Mountain (2005) dir. Ang Lee

[Run Time: 2h 14 min, Lang: English]

Summary: “Ennis and Jack are two shepherds who develop a sexual and emotional relationship. Their relationship becomes complicated when both of them get married to their respective girlfriends.” -imdb

Cast: * Jake Gyllenhaal as Jack Twist *Heath Ledger as Ennis del Mar (Rest in Peace)

Okay, so unsurprisingly Brokeback Mountain is one of seven of the movies on this syllabus that I had seen before I embarked on this project. I watched it for the first time in 2021 and walked away from it with two images in my head: Jack and Ennis’ reunion kiss and Jack getting his face bashed in with a tire iron. This film is in Heartbreak Alley for a reason and that’s because it is fundamentally depressing as fuck. Jack and Ennis are stuck in unhappy marriages, lonely all their lives, struggling to carve desire out of a life that does not let them have it. Ennis ends up alone, and Jack ends up dead and these things are important. Ennis slipped out of his role as attentive father and doting husband the second Jack walked back in to his life, Jack kept breaking his own heart by daring to dream of the life that he wanted.

A life he was denied.

I want to mention these tragedies up front because I want primarily to talk about something else in this film. But i do not want to just push past the violence here. This is probably something other people have heard, it was definitely something I was told by the person who recommended this film to me the first time. But the way Jack dies, the way Earl dies, these are both similar to the way that Matthew Shepard died. Matthew Shepard was kidnapped, pistol whipped, tortured, and tied to a fence in Wyoming for being gay and was so brutally beaten his entire face was covered in blood. Jack was beaten to death with a tire iron on the side of the road, Earl was brutally tortured and left in a ditch. These men are not just killed, but brutally, violently, torturously murdered for being queer.

That said, this movie felt so different to me the second time I watched it and I am so amazed to see how much I truly missed my first time around. I was younger, freshly queer, and did not have anywhere close to the extensive queer media viewing history I do now. It is wild to me to see how I have grown in my engagement with media after spending a year writing about body language. Because this film is so fucking brilliant, like legitimately intelligently crafted in it’s displays of gay politics. Maybe this is stuff that I picked up on subconsciously the first time through because I never found the movie boring despite it being rather slow. But this time? My brain was buzzing at how expertly crafted the dialogue and body language was around trying to be safe while being queer.

I am thinking of the way that Jack sizes Ennis up at the beginning, Jack’s posture as he leans against his truck the first time they meet. I’m thinking about the line “Mr. Augirre’s got no right making us do something against the rules” when you consider that queerness is very much against the rules at that time and in that place. The way Ennis refuses to let Jack be gentle with him at first, tending his own wounds, staying distant and quiet, until he doesn’t.

Maybe it’s just because of how much I’ve watched The Sign drift further away from the hyper-masculinity aspect of their story, but I could not stop thinking about the delicate dance that is required to navigate the growing feelings and sexual relationship between these two extremely masculine men. I started looking and I think there are about three times in the entire movie where Jack and Ennis are soft with each other. The first is on Brokeback the second time they have sex, and Ennis is struggling and just rests his head on Jack’s chest before going in for a kiss. The second is when they are cuddling in bed at the motel after their first reunion. The third is the scene after Ennis tells Jack he won’t be able to see him again until November. That’s it. Otherwise they aren’t touching, or when they are touching they are rough, rough housing, rough kissing, rough fucking it doesn’t matter.

Ennis says he isn’t queer and Jack says he’s not either, but they fuck and then they are drawn to one another for the rest of their lives, because there is no one who could get it like they do. Ennis isn’t lying when he tells Jack that is the most he’s spoken in a year. Ennis is a lonely man. Ennis is a rural, hyper-masculine rancher he does not have emotions, not anymore, if he ever did. Whatever conscious or subconscious queerness he had undoubtedly shriveled and died the day he was shown Earl’s body. And that, I think, is part of why Ennis is just constantly drawn to Jack, why his face lights up when he sees Jack, why he throws such caution to the wind upon their first reunion.

Ennis does not need words for Jack to understand him. Jack is also a rural, hyper-masculine rancher. He gets it in a way that Alma never will. The violence they bestow upon each other, Jack understands why Ennis would lash out. The need to escape in to the mountains, Hack understands why Ennis needs it. It’s just so smartly written. Ennis so unmoored from his own feelings that his body physically rejects them when he and Jack separate for the first time. The way he has to suck it in, suck it up, pretend like he’s unfazed, unaffected, until the minute he has a chance to be out of eyesight, and then he just collapses retching, sobbing, punching walls.

And then he’s able to separate himself from his emotions once more, he marries Alma, he stays lonely, he does his duties, until Jack comes calling. I think I remember a story about how the first kiss that Heath and Jake have when Ennis and Jack are reunited, their faces slammed together so hard one of them almost broke a nose. And that is how 90% of Ennis and Jack’s relationship is. Those emotions come back and then Jack is leaving again, and Ennis just starts to crumble.

I could not stop thinking about the dialogue in this film Mr. Aguirre’s carefully chosen words when he is telling Jack exactly why he isn’t hiring him for another season, the way Jack tries to suss out if the man sitting next to him at the bar after the rodeo is queer and down to fuck, how that man picks up on it, rejects him, and how quickly Jack gets the fuck out of the bar afterwards. The inherent understanding of what being invited to the cabin means in that conversation with David Harbor’s character. GOD, it’s just so well done.

Favorite Moment

To continue on the subject of incredible code work in this movie, my favorite scene is when Ennis goes to visit Jack’s parents to try to get Jack’s ashes so he can spread them on Brokeback Mountain. How without ever saying anything directly, Jack’s parents are able to convey that they know the reason Jack died, what Jack and Ennis were to each other, and that they accept Jack and accept Ennis was just beautiful. The way she lets Ennis go up to Jack’s room, Ennis finding the shirts, stained with blood because that’s what it is to be queer, Jack’s mother letting Ennis take those with him, Jack’s father saying: “We’ve got a family plot. He’s going in it.” as Ennis is about to walk out the door, Jack’s mother saying: “You come back and see us again” and not have either of those things feel like a threat or a trap? It was incredible.

Favorite Quote

Hmm, I know we have the two famous quotes, but it’s hard to pick a favorite line because there is so little dialogue in this film considering it is over two hours long. I think I am going to go with the last line of the movie:

“Jack, I swear”

Cause it made me cry. Alma Junior pays a visit to her father to let him know she’s getting married, and she drives away forgetting her coat, and Ennis opens his closet (intense staring at the visual commentary) and he buttons the top button of Jack’s shirt, and he swears to Jack and to me that feels like a wedding vow.

Score

10/10 This film is gorgeous, just utterly beautiful all around. The cinematography, the script, the commitment and the care the actors give to these characters, to the subject. I am so glad this was on the syllabus so I had this opportunity to revisit this film. I got a whole lot more out of it as a result.

#bengiyo queer cinema syllabus #queer cinema syllabus #queer cinema #unit 4: heartbreak alley #brokeback mountain

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carefulnowprincess · 2 years

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Gif credit goes to the original creator

Bloodlust

Daemon Targaryen x House Cole Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY!)

Length: Under 1k

Summary: You are a noblewoman of House Cole, married to your husband of five years when a faithful evening you find him dead next to you in your bed. Taken by Prince Daemon Targaryen and swept away and forced into a possible turmoil marriage, are things on the surface as terrible as they seem?

A/N: I uhhh...don't have any excuses as I just wanted to write some smutty smut of Daemon Targaryen cause he's hot as fuck and House of the Dragon is so good! Just enjoy the ride ;)

Warnings: Blood, death, murder, Daemon being his usual dick self, swearing, forced marriage, mentions of pregnancy, glove kink if you look hard enough, choking, dragons, sexual teasing, mentions of cheating, mentions of drunkeness, Daemon is sweet on you and only you, eventful smut

Chapter 2 is here

Chapter 1

A stuck knife in the belly was all it took for your husband to die. Of course, you never knew that until you woke up in the middle of the night, a scream descending throughout your room and hallway. You cried, seeing all the blood that pooled around his body as you ran for help. It was a frivolous attempt as you discovered more dead men laying about shaking their lifeless bodies. You heaved in your lungs from the quick run, wiping away the blood from the sheets of your bed and the fresh blood of your guards onto your now ruined nightgown.

Frantically searching with a twist of your head, you managed to make it to the front of the castle doors. Your hands attempted to push them open when a sudden sweep of cold air was felt behind you, grabbing you and spinning you around hard, smacking your back against the wood. An attempt to yell was quickly thwarted when a thick black leather glove covered your mouth, filled with a familiar scent that you couldn’t forget.

“Prince Daemon?!” you said with a muffled tone and wild eyes. The leather smell that filled your senses could make you weak in the knees right there, but there was too much at stake right now. The wood creaked further behind you with adrenaline rushing through your veins as he pressed your back further into the door, his other hand lightly choking you.

His appearance was the same as it was four years ago yet it was like the first time you had met him. He hovered over you like prey, a dragon in the mists of your body waiting to devour you whole.

“Mmm, who else would it be, calling for you late in the hour Lady Cole?” He questioned softly, kicking your legs apart as he stood in between them. You had to admit though, if it was any other man, you’d probably be dead by now. Ripping your mouth from his covered hand your eyes gave an icy glare.

“Certainly not some pompous snake like you!” You bit back. Daemon chuckled low in his throat.

“My dear, I am no snake. I am a dragon. Shouldn’t you know that by now? Besides, is that any way to talk to the King of the Narrow Sea?” He said, kissing your soft but wet cheek as he tightened his grip on your throat. You groaned in displeasure but felt a small fire ignite deep in your belly. His eyes raked over your disheveled face. Your hair was out of place, fresh tears flowing down your lovely face. He took note of the blood stains on your nightgown, staring at your chest as he watched you struggle to breathe. Daemon gives a small smirk, his piercing purple eyes looking into yours.

“What do you want?” You managed to wheeze.

“You, and only you my Lady. Why else would I have your husband killed?” He said. Eyes widening, you closed them trying to process this information. It was no secret that the marriage into House Cole was out of duty and politics but you had grown accustomed to him over the past few years. When no children were born he became a spiteful man, blaming you for every wrongdoing in his life and becoming a drunken embarrassment each day. Thank the gods he rarely touched you, too intoxicated to find any place soft to lay his head most days.

“You didn’t have to kill him. He was–”

"A fucking cunt as you have told me. I was simply having a favor done in your honor,” he said cutting you off. “Now, if that venomous mouth of yours wants to continue to spit, I could move to cover it for the rest of the journey,” he said. You looked confused.

“Journey where?” You asked with a horse voice.

“My home. Well, our home that is,” he said, finally removing his grip on your throat. You gasped, holding your throat breathing deeply. Daemon’s free hand went for your chin and tilted upwards to look at you. His eyes softened, staring at you as if you were the only woman that made his heart soar.

“I’ve been obsessed with you for years, fucking years. I will have no other in my bed, no other cunt to keep my cock warm. You will be treated like the queen you are. I know that this is what you want,” he said. You swallowed. You couldn’t speak as he spoke no lies, no doubts that he would treat you better than your shit husband did.

Daemon stepped back from you giving you a moment to regain your composure as you let out a deep sigh. Another forced marriage and so soon you thought. He held out his hand to you.

“Be my queen and I shall teach you to breathe fire as I do,” he said. You reluctantly agreed, taking his large hand into yours as he opened the doors leaving your old life behind.

You were both greeted by the sting of heavy rain as you attempted to shield yourself from the downpour. In the distance was Caraxes, Daemon’s dragon who let out a ferocious roar as he saw his rider the prince approached. Daemon lifted you onto the saddle, throwing over his cloak to shield you from the cool night air and rain. As the dragon began his flight home, you were nervous, gripping onto Daemon’s waist as a sudden burst of thunder startled you. Eyes squeezed closed as your face buried into his back, breathing in his scent and hoping it would all be over soon.

Over soon? No, your life was just beginning.

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fan fic

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filmofhybe · 5 months

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Christmas office

🗯️ PAIRING : Lee Heeseung x oc 💌 GENRE : fluff , best friends x best friends 783 words

warnings : language, catcalling , perverted disgusting colleagues , inappropriate comments

; AUTHORS NOTE : 1 out of 23 of my CHRISTMAS WITH FILMOFHYBE is out!! Hope you guys would enjoy this series of work by me until the 25th of December!!

Masterlist to my other works

Christmas is around the corner, and everyone at my company is excited to see what I would be doing this Christmas. Ready to take millions of pictures during the Christmas party. I am always in charge of the Christmas decorations and party stuff. People would say im basically the Christmas Enthusiast, I can’t blame them. When others are wearing black depressing suits and dresses to work, I tend to dress up for more. And I meant red dresses to white coats, the office doesn’t have dress code, trust me..

Right now, I don’t think my white coat dress is even white anymore from the glitter of the decorations, and Lee Heeseung throwing green and red glitter on me. “You look like a Christmas tree.” He chuckled before handing me the tape. Lee Heeseung, where do I even start with this man. He’s tall, handsome and kind. And the worst part is that we’ve been friends since the beginning of University. Surprisingly joining the same company afterwards.

We were hanging ornaments and stringing lights, getting into the holiday spirit. As we worked, random colleagues passed by whispering something that i can’t really hear what it is.

Heeseung’s POV:

“She’s probably trying to show off if she’s standing this high up with a dress on..” I heard those disgusting perverted man chuckled as they continue to stare at y/n. Making the most Inappropriate and sexual comments Comments about her continues to flood in, making my blood boil. Feeling a surge of protectiveness and couldn't stand the disrespectful comments. I stepped forward, placing myself between her and the colleagues,

“If you guys continue to eye fuck my girlfriend, maybe you should consider the fact you could lose your job right now.” Their eyes widen as they ran away like shady little mouses. Y/n turns around confused of the sudden confession. “Hey what’s up? What do you mean eye fuck my girlfriend.” Her laughs delicately, still confused what I was talking about. She looked like she was taken aback by my sudden protective stance. She stared at me, with those beautiful gorgeous eyes that shines brighter than those Christmas lights.

“Weird ass man was staring at you that’s why.. gotta cover you up and tell them to stop because is disgusting.”

“Oh.. I Never thought you would do that though…” She was confused, why I was defending her so passionately. Sensing her confusion, I took a deep breath and decided it was time to reveal his long-standing feelings for her.

“It really makes me laugh because all these years of us decorating together, going out afterwards to celebrate our hard work seems like it’s nothing to you. Meanwhile I’m here, admiring you since we were in University, always the first one to volunteer to help you to decorate because I don’t want any man to be near you. Buying you coffee every morning because I can’t make you homemade ones before we go to work together. Call me down bad because I am y/n. And those man’s staring at you and making those disgusting fucking comments about you is another reason why I would do anything for you y/n. Yes I have feelings for you and I love you so much, and no you don’t have to return those feelings back.”

I know my confession was sudden, but how can I not fall in love with such a girl with full of kindness in her heart , intelligence, and the way she brightened up the office just with her sweet presence.

Y/N’s pov:

I was surprised by Heeseung's confession, was momentarily speechless.I had never expected this turn of events, but the more I look into his eyes, i saw the depth of his feelings and the genuine concern he had me. Realizing how I have always been burying my deep feelings for him by trying to go out with different guys back than just to get his stupidly cute and handsome face out of my mind.

After a moment of silence, I smiled softly and wrapped my arms around his neck .

“Thank you for everything you’ve done to me.” I whispered into his neck, his cologne smelt so much nicer closer. His arms wrapped around my waist before cupping my cheeks, pulling me into the sweetest kiss I have ever received. Pulling away as we smiled at each other.

“You’re so adorable in this dress you know?” Heeseung said as he spin me around.

“What? You seen me in this last year though”

“Looks so much more better now that your my girlfriend..”

“stop making me blush and finish decorating.”

“Can’t help myself but admire my love…”

“Lee Heeseung focus!!”

The office, once filled with tension, now felt like a place of warmth and possibility of love. Filled with laughter at a small corner, but millions could feel the love in the air because of us. I guess Festive season is probably my most luckiest season.

#k lables #k films #kflixnet #k neighborhood #⛸️*.❅·🧣⋆ 24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe #🥥 하이브의 영화 #enhypen heeseung #enhypen x oc #enhypen imagines #enhypen smau #heeseung x oc #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines

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ddostoyevskyy · 1 year

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The Runaway Bride

Kamisato Ayato

Note: Can't believe I'm writing for another fandom again. Anyway, this man is my old main. I'm using my OC's surname (from my BSD fic) as Y/N's surname, just in reference of their origin. Typical arrange marriage trope.... with a twist. He fell first, and fell harder.

Warnings: idk how to label this - angst to comfort or comfort to angst? SEXUAL CONTENT — READ AT YOUR OWN RISK (unprotected sex, hate sex? idk, reader is a lil’ rough with Ayato, biting, overstimulation, edging, size kink, it started rough but it ended soft), afab!reader, enemies to lovers — to enemies (?), Ayato’s pining and an oblivious yet love-starved reader, graphic violence, child abuse, family issues, heavy implied incest (not from reader and Ayato), blood, descriptive murder, victim-blaming, manipulation, self-blaming, self-harming, I DO NOT RECOMMEND ANY OF THESE WARNINGS, THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL, ANY SCENES ARE PURE IMAGINATION.

11.2K words

Part 1, Part 2 (?)

MASTERLIST

"Smile now, my daughter," Father had whispered in your ears with a huge smile on his face, eyeing your whole appearance in the mirror as you shifted and fidget your hands together in discomfort. Wearing a white, long sleeve dress made with the finest silk and your hair tied up in a bun, creating a sharp look on your fluttering eyes. His hands are on your shoulders while he whispers sweet nothings on your ear as you stood in front of the mirror, gradually staring intently on the clear reflection. "They've known my daughter because of her warm smile. We don't want to disappoint the visitors if they ever saw you frowning like that, right?"

You tried your best to smile that doesn't even reached your eyes, though, your father had praised you for showing him his favorite smile of yours and praising you for being a good daughter, you winced when he's finally gone to prepare, almost dropping on your knees for the pressure as you huff, both in annoyance and discomfort.

Being a perfect daughter is difficult —especially, when you can't act fine and proper anymore. All of these stupid acts and conservative etiquettes has you trying to break free from its chains. Too many do's and dont's, the perks of being a noble daughter from an old-fashioned family is exhausting.

You don't even like the silk cloth, nor to smile in front of people. You don't like the way your chest is exposed in the dress your father made you wore, nor the heavy make up planted on your face — you look like a whole different person in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself.

You shakily sighed before calling your assistant — a young man with a fancy hat. He's been with you since you were little and up until now, he stayed loyal to you — and not to your father.

"Yes, My Lady? Do you need anything?" His face is hidden under his hat politely, a gentleman, a young man you would proudly say that you raised from your woman perspectives and feminist. He's dressed in a nice suit with a long, white coat that you eyed as you clicked your fingers before walking towards him.

"You know the drill. Hand me your coat, gentleman." You replied as he obliged, buttoning open his coat as he handed it to you. You thanked him as you turn around to put the coat on yourself, seeing how it perfectly wrapped around your body, covering most the important part you wanted to cover. You stayed it draped over your shoulders, buttoning it close only to where your chest needs to be covered. The color of the coat fits perfectly with the color of your dress.

"That looks good on you, My Lady -" You glance up to him on the mirror and he realized his words, halting as he cleared his throat, "Everything looks good on you, My Lady. Perhaps, you didn't talk the compliment back, so, you are really the person who raised me as I am. Lady Y/N."

He emphasized your name as you finally met his eyes — dark purple and glimmering under the chandelier of the room. You eyed him before raising an eyebrow in agreement. He took of his hat before putting it on top of your head — a signature he always did whenever it was you - the other Y/N — will appear in this kind of situation. Despite of the similarities, he can totally see the differences between.

Between you and your twin.

Despite of your older twin being exactly just the same as you, he could tell the difference after knowing you for a lifetime. Your older twin has the same love of fashion with what you wore, she also held a wide and warm smile to everyone and she always have a mischievous personality you sometimes despised. She has a carefree personality and a warm embrace that you've always feel after the end of the day.

While you, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. You took liking of reading — a scholar in Sumeru Akademiya despite living a fancy life in Schenezaya. Despite of that, both of you have the same taste in music - she had taken a liking of playing the piano and you playing the violin and collaborate with one another. Both of you found the comfort to each other despite being the exact opposite.

"Lower your voice, Mister Fancy Hat." He grunted at the nickname, but he can't hide the small smile that forms on his lips. You glance at him again, taking the opportunity to appreciate his beauty on the mirror. He looks dashing on a suit — which you can only see if both of you are not in Sumeru. His usual clothes are traditional, he's the General of Sumeru after all — an electro vision. His white, long hair is tied up in a high ponytail, making his lavender eyes sharp as ever, his dark skin makes it the complete perfection.

"You can always call me Cyno, My Lady. Now, we are running out of time. Let's go to the camel, shall we?" He offered you his arm and you raised an eyebrow while accepting his offer — wrapping your hand on his arm as he guide you out of the room.

"Isn't it appropriate to let a Lady ride with such an absurd transportation?" You challenged as you stared at him.

"Then, do you want me to fly you in the wind, then?" He spouts back with the same challenging tone and you finally break with a smile — a genuine smile this time.

"How annoying." You mumble, squeezing his arm in a playful manner and you gradually feel a little relieved and content now as you stood by Cyno's side, constantly brushing your shoulder on him to let him know that you're comfortable enough now. This is one of your mannerism that he discovered later on. Perhaps, it is the way the General would make you feel comfortable — by engaging you in a sarcastic conversation and he made sure not to engage you in one of his jokes anymore after you sent him a knife that luckily didn't hit him intentionally after he made a lame joke when you're not in the mood.

Despite being born and raised in a different worlds, it's not hard to get along with him, despite being both an introvert and silent personalities. He's making sure to read the atmosphere around you and he'd known you and your twin better than your father did. He understood the struggles of changing places and adjusting to another scenarios again. Despite that, he respected both siblings and had taken care of both of you — it's like, he's the older brother you both couldn't have.

"My Lady, you know why we're departing to Inazuma, right? I hope, you are aware of what will happen." He muttered and you hummed, every steps you make on the stairs is getting heavier at the thought. After you and your older twin had arrived at a coming of age, your father had been constantly visiting some mansions and families with you tagging along and introducing you to the families' son. Now that your father had invited you again, your older twin decided to switch places so you could experience the outside for a while.

Whenever you are in the mansion, it was you who's present. And, whenever you are suppose to be outdoors, your older twin is the one in presence.

"Yes, I completely understood why we're arriving at Inazuma. But, Cyno," You called out his name as you squeeze his arm in process before you glance at him, "Do my sister, perhaps, know someone from the said city? I don't want to appear clueless now and Sister never told me anything after she came home from Inazuma." You finished as Cyno guided you through the caravan. You hopped inside with his help — his hands find your waist to hoist you up as you stepped on the edge before you sat down inside, few people had offered their greetings and safe for the travel as you genuinely smiled at them.

Cyno followed shortly as he closed the door of the caravan and spoke, "Yes. As the matter of fact, a certain noble family from Inazuma had tried to put ties between your family. They are well known and wealthy, but after a sudden death of the wife's head of the family after your father and the other Lady had visited their respected estate, they immediately cut ties and took blame of the Barouqe clan, as result."

You nodded and hummed. It has been a while after your sister had visited the city Inazuma and you've been curious about what really happened. As far as you know, the wife is already suffering from a disease.... that you've seen in the book and you have an actual idea of the cure. If only, you were the one who tag along with your father before, no other clan would put a burden on your family's name in Inazuma.

"I see." You shortly answered before the door on your caravan swung open and your head shifted into the direction, seeing none other than your older twin in flesh as your eyes slightly widened before hoisting her up as you look outside the caravan, on the process. Thankfully, there are no one around anymore and her face is covered with a silk cloth.

"Sister, you are coming with us?"

"Yes. Father already decided to come back and visit Inazuma again." She removed the covet on her head as she closes the door's caravan, the horse started to move as you sighed.

"You two are not planning to do something reckless, are you not?" She looks at you with those same eyes - a hint of glint and a mischievous smile - something you always see whenever she's plotting and teasing. As much as you adored her, you hated her at the same time as how she's so troublemaker. Despite having the exact appearance, she's mischievous and playful — it's like a whole new side of you whenever you look st her.

"Come on, younger sister! Just imagine this as the game we always play when we were little kids! Remember?" She reminded you, her gloved hands skimming to raise your dress up to expose your thighs and your body stiffened — realizing that you are not the only on inside the caravan — Cyno is here too. "But, this time, we are playing like this with the Head of the clan."

Her lips are dangerously close to your ear as she whispered, sending shivers down to your body and a goosebumps appear on your thighs — that your sister immediately notice and she giggled. You didn't like the idea she said, nor the way her hand has been caressing your skin and biting the lobe of your ear. The disgusting feeling had been bubbling up on your throat.

"I think, that's enough, Lady." Cyno's hand had grasp her to stop her from touching you and almost distinctively, you put a hand on his arm to signal him that's enough, knowing how Cyno's grip can be forceful at times. Your older twin pouted.

"You're no fun, Cyno!" She huffed, "Come on, little Y/N. This will serve as a revenge for ruining our name in Inazuma, no? We won't murder anyone, okay? We just need to be a little more scandalous — yes, scandalous in an elegant way!" She has her arms wrapped around you again as she put her chin on your shoulder, giving your neck a peck as you sighed.

"Who are we gonna p-play with?" You asked, voice cracking. You don't really like that term for it.

"My Lady." Cyno warned you, violet eyes dimmed as he stares at you intently. You gave him a force smile as he look away, jaw clenching as he scoffed and shake his head in disapproval.

"Finally! The Yashiro Commisioner, Head of the Kamisato clan — Kamisato Ayato."

Your mind had strucked a familiarity of the name as you've heard — the Kamisato clan. The infamous clan that runs the Inazuma for years and their high social status had been kept even after the wife of the Head of the clan deceased. You were curious about them as you've seen their name on a list where your family's name also included.

You felt a sudden strike of anxiousness when you arrived at the Inazuma. Despite, departing safely and no avail, you felt like there's a whole disaster that happened. Your hair that is tied up in a bun was now cascading on your back as you continue to run your fingers through your locks as you look around the unfamiliar city of lights. It was full of different street lights and the city seems to be much busy at night.

Agreeing to your older twin is certainly not a good idea.

You felt like backing out. But, when your father's arm had wrapped around your shoulder, you knew you can't go back in Schenezaya without getting any profit here anymore. "Your older sister had definetely told you what we're here for, yes? That time when me and your sister arrived here, it seems like the heir of the Kamisato Clan didn't like your sister's personality. That's why, I told her that maybe, you, my youngest daughter can capture his heart," Your father mumbled in a low tone, voice seeping with such a vile and venomous words.

"So, do your best and be a good girl, alright?" You just nodded quietly, "And, don't forget our little game we played when you were little, my daughter. You could put that in a good use." He gave you a peck on the top of your head as he cups your face and stroked the delicate skin of your cheeks. You wanted to slap his hand away, but it seems like your father's vision had been electrocuting you the moment he touched you and you can't do anything but to follow his instructions.

"My Lady, are you sure about this? I have a bad feeling." Cyno mumbled besides you as you walk behind your father. The Kamisato clan seems to be notified by your departure and your father stated that there going to be a small banquet of celebration for the Barouqe's arrival. You never felt nervous like this, atleast. Not even the soothing sound of Cyno's voice will calm you.

"It's going to be f-fine, Cyno. You're here with me, right?" You assured him — or assured yourself? You aren't even sure enough as you step closer and closer to the Kamisato's estate. A traditional Inazuma's mansion with a small bridge above the clear lake is what caught your attention. The blossoming sakura trees had you knowing that the spring season is getting near.

You seems to be distracted by the view that you didn't notice the people that welcomed you.

"My daughter, come and greet them." Your father's voice had snapped you out of your thoughts as you averted your eyes away from the mesmerizing scenery. Your hand on Cyno's arm loosened before you turn your attention up front.

"I apologized from being distracted. Nice to meet you again, Mister Kamisato." You put on your best smile that surely appeared on your eyes now too — staring at the man in front of you. Your smile faltered a bit when you see how he looks at you; sprinkled with suspicion and admiration — well, the second one seems to be just an assumption — but his lavender eyes twinkled with such an emotion you couldn't decipher. Nevertheless, you appeared confident despite of how nervous you are.

"Lady Y/N, the only child of Barouqe, it's a pleasure to see you again after so many years," He took your hand and gently gave a peck on the back of your gloved hand. You were quite surprise at his sudden action and by the fact of how gentleman he is — far from what your older twin described him. But, you've noticed how his words came of sarcastically. "Despite of the feeling like we've just met for the first time, no?"

You retracted your hand as you smiled once again. The tension in the air created a heavy atmosphere as you answered. "Why, of course. It seems like we, again, met for the first time. People gradually change for years, Mister. So, I assumed, we shouldn't stay in the past anymore, right?" You answered with the same pettiness.

"Well, well, you are one to talk about the past that I presumed, you don't have any idea about." He retorted and you hid the way you gritted your teeth behind your lips. Your hand clenched behind your back.

This man might know something he shouldn't have any knowledge about!

"I do not know what you're implying." You stared intently in his purple eyes as he squinted them, glancing on your expression — the mess on your laid hair because of the wind, the seemingly change of your body appearance and the way your eyes sent daggers and eyelashes fluttering like angel wings. The Y/N Barouqe he'd known before is not as tough as you are now, nor as fierce and sharp tounged. You seems to appeared more..... attractive to him than you are already before.

Or is the young lady he met before was really you?

"Ah. It seems like you already did really changed, M'lady," He smiles with his eyes close, "Now, let's go inside before the food gets cold." His voice falters deaf in your ears when you finally confirmed it. Your head craned behind your back, silently speaking with Cyno using your eyes and pursed lips. He seems to get the right thing running in your mind as he only shook his head again in disapproval.

Closing your eyes, you felt your father's hand crept on your wrist and your turn your attention to him.

"I-I don't think I can play the game with him, Father." You stuttered as you tried to remove his grasp. But his grip only tightened when you started to resist.

"Come on, my dear daughter. It seems like, the Commissioner had taken a liking of you. We don't want to waste that, right?" Your father had whispered in a dangerous tone and you shakily sighed before you manage to let yourself free from his grasp.

When you finally arrived inside the mansion, your expression deadpanned, already uninterested as how this conversation will go. This is not the first time you've ever oppose to your father's orders, especially when your dignity and you, yourself will be ruined, at the end of the day.

"Welcome inside the Kamisato Estate, Mister and Lady Barouqe. I hope you will enjoy your remaining time here," The Yashiro Commissioner turn himself in your direction, a smile planted on his face as he stared down at you as you look up, challenging him with burning eyes.

There's really something in you that have changed..... was it your personality? No. Even the way you smile is different than before, even the way your eyes had this burning passion and hatred towards him is visible — you have no intentions on hiding your own feelings and emotions as you look at him with those eyes thag sparkling with an attitude. Even though, you're smiling at him, it doesn't even reached your eyes the way you smiled before at him.

Maybe, it wasn't really you that he had met before.

He just needed to confirm it with only you and him.

Alone.

"Mister Barouqe, I hope you don't mind. I want to make some time alone with your only daughter, if that's alright?" He finished and he sees the way you visibly clenched your teeth as you blink nervously. He knew something was up, though, he wanted to push you through your limits until you break and submit yourself to him.

You are an interesting woman and he'll make sure to play with you too.

Your father seems to be enthusiastic at his request, putting both of his hands on your shoulder before pushing you slightly to the man in front of you. He offered a hand and you're lucky to decide to wear a gloves. You turn to look at Cyno, but it seems like he's quite mad at you as he keep his eyes on the floor. You sighed before removing his hat on your head and putting it back to his head. You already had your back turn to him when he decided to raise his head to look at you.

The Yashiro Commissioner guided you to a room as you entered, admiring where he brought you; a room full of books in shelves. The room has a high ceiling, the scent of paper and wood entered your sense of smell as you breath a sigh at the familiar sensation. One thing you love in someone's mansion is their library — or wherever there's books and pens.

His eyes trailed at your expression as he confirms it, yet again. The young Barouqe he met 10 years ago is not as enthusiastic as she is when he welcomed her before inside his office. You look mesmerized — mesmerizing as you walk around the toom, constantly touching the spine of the book and Ayato's eyes followed your movement when you stop just right on the medicine book section.

He stands there, amused. "It seems like you took liking of books now, M'lady."

You halted on your movements, already mentally screaming at yourself at being too excited with the sight of the books. You close the book on your hand before putting it back to its place as you turn your attention to the man that was now one step away from you.

"Ah, indeed. After the incident ten years ago, I decided to read some medical books to understand what really happened to your deceased mother." You put an insult to the wound, already liking the way the man in front of you twitched in irritation. But he gave you a smile.

"The report said that my late mother us poisoned, that confirmed at this very day. You, Lady Y/N, were you poisoned too? Or perhaps," He stepped closer and you step backwards, already hitting the wall as you hissed through your teeth, "You were electrocuted?"

"I don't know what are you talking about —"

Your voice caught in your throat when he tugged your hand behind your back, his other hand quickly pulling something behind his back as your eyes widened at the familiar sensation of a sharp shard that penetrates on your skin as he cut deep — to mark your palm.

"What —!"

"Tell me, confess now, M'lady. You are not the person I met ten years ago, yes?" He's quite surprise as how strong your resistance as you keep resisting on his arms. He managed to press you up against the wall again, his thigh between your legs as you groaned at the pressure of his hand on your wound.

"Let me go, you bastard!" You resist. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Ah, ah. Feisty, aren't you? The exact opposite of your.... older twin, right?"

There's no point of excuses now as you sighed in defeat, loosening your grip on his hand as the attitude you gave him a few seconds ago disappeared in an instant. He stared at your softening expression, but your eyes still show the hatred emotion planted on your pretty face.

"What's your motive? You're not stupid as you portray to even let the person who killed your mother inside your own territory again." You spat at him as he smiled — that annoyed you even more. He keep smiling at you, lips stretch in an outmost stunning smile you ever seen as though to annoy you or it was a genuine gesture that made something inside of you stir.

"I have something to propose to you, M'lady," His grip on your wound finally loosen up as he gently graze at the wound before he's pulling you to sit down on his chair, grabbing something from the drawer, a first aid kit he had on his office. "Let's use each other for an important purpose. I let you work your motive to me and you will let me do as I please to your family."

You eyed him sharply as he started to gently jab the wound with an ointment. You were used to having your wounds treated before that even the feeling of a knife penetrating on your skin doesn't make you cry anymore. He's gentle, opposed from what his grip on you earlier.

"You're stupid to even think I will let you touch my family."

"Aren't you the one getting touched by your own family?" His reply made you halt as you stared at him wide eyes. He seems to hit the right answer when you grip his arm with your other hand. He turn his attention to you as he studied your reactions. You seem flabbergasted, breath hitching and pupils dilated as though you've seen a ghost.

"You —! How —"

"You think your assistant will only shake his head or stay quiet with your situation?" He confessed, "We've known each other after my mother died as he asked for my help. Now that you are here in front of me, the woman I want to help, I'm going to save you from your own family."

"What the hell are you talking about saving me?" There it is, your eyes sharp as ever as you stared at him, standing on your own feet as you pull him down closer to your face that you could feel his breath fan on your face. He's stunned for a moment, seeing you up close like this. This felt nothing like the woman he met ten years ago and it made his heart race. "I've been suffering from my own family, all my life. It's too late to save me now. And, besides, if I were to marry you, I will do anything to slit your throat while you're sleeping."

He hummed, clearly he is not listening when he had hid lavender eyes on your lips as he scoot closer, nose bumping on each other and you have no time to protest when he's quick to hold the back of your head and capture your lips in a seething kiss, your own hand clasping tightly at the hem of his kimono when he opened your mouth with the use of his sultry tounge, the warm muscle exploring on the roof of your mouth, on the back of your teeth and your own tounge dancing as he hums lowly, the sound vibrating on your lips and you hissed.

Your teeth graze on his bottom lip as you bite as a warning, but he didn't even stop to process the pain that stung, continuously stimulating your lips with his while your wounded hand is sti on his gentle grasp. You became breathless, gasping and breathing heavily on his mouth and he seems to enjoy the taste of your lips and the sinful sounds that starting to escape on your throat.

"Wait —! You.... bastard —!"

His hand had cupped your cheeks, lips moving passionately on your own as he captures all the noise and words on your mouth, deliberately opening your mouth using his thumb as you started to thump your fist on his chest. He tasted sweet with a mix of coffee — the aftermath taste of the sweetened boba tea he drank earlier as his tounge dances inside your mouth, leaving you unable to breath as you finally gave in — kissing him back with the same amount of tension he'd giving your mouth and he moans lowly.

"Kami — sato —! I'm.... telling you —! Let me go —!"

The movement on his lips seems to slow down, but he's still not letting you go. Lips attached to yours as he slowly move his lips in a sinful pace and you gasp, the sound that escapes your throat only desire him to go further — until you can't breath anymore. Maybe, the kiss he was giving you could be the reason of your death, as much as you want to deny the warm feeling on your chest and the sensation of his soft lips and unrelenting tounge — you were lost on his facade, too lost on his world once his fingers caress your face.

He finally let go of your lips with a smack and you gasped for air again, panting as he studied the mess he made in front of him. You look delirous with your eyes clouded with desire mixed with hatred and your lips swollen with his minstrations. He's not even better.

"You bastard! You're going to pay for this!" He's silent for a moment, still out of breath. His attention drifted from your face to the wound he made on your palm as he grabbed the cotton again, treating your wound like nothing happened and you stand there, flabbergasted at his actions.

You scoffed, but he never uttered a single word as he work in silence, his mind drifted at the feeling of your lips and the taste of your strawberry chapstick that had mark on his lips. You had noticed and your other hand graze on the bottom of his lips to wipe your glistening balm that has transferred on his lips. He halted as he finished dressing your wounds.

You stared at him like he's the most ridiculous person on the earth, constantly eyeing and judging his perfect appearance like he didn't took your first kiss away a few moments ago, you gave him a sharp look when he stared back at you with unreadable expression like he didn't have his tounge shove on your mouth. You hated his guts and his motives — why is he helping you, anyway? That really confirmed that assumption of your father might be the one who's responsible for his mother's death.

And, now you are paying for your own father's debt.

"I hate you." You blurted and a sly smirk appeared on his handsome face.

"Keep telling that to yourself, My Lady. You are now officially tied up with me." You grunted, pushing his attractive face away when he started to lean into you again. He kissed your palm that was planted on his face and you were startled at the gesture and slightly smack his lips in annoyance. He's being annoying as he keeps pushing you to your limits.

"You were a lot more different than your older twin. Maybe, because I didn't like her guts as much as I like you." His hand clasp on yours where you still had your hand on his face, kissing the tip of your fingers in a manner that made you huff in annoyance despite not pulling away from his warm touch.

"We're twins. If you ever planning to marry me, I will make her show up in the wedding instead." You poked a finger on his cheeks, but frozed when he leaned in your touch that made your blood boiled more as you grit your teeth.

"Don't you thought of the reason why I marked you here in your hand?" His fingers graze on your right palm, creating gentle stroke on the covered wound and you realized it by now; why he made a scar on your skin to mark you — his mark — his blade — on you.

"Or you want a different mark instead? Perhaps, on your neck or chest?" His other hand slid on your waist up on the back of your nape and you shivered at his touch, clutching on the cape that was wrapped around you. His thumb graze on the exposed skin of your neck and you bite back any sound that's threatening to escape. "Do you want me to paint you with my lips? Since, my blade hurts as much, let me paint you using no blood this time."

What.

You stared at him pupils blown wide as he leaned closer.

You were supposed to seduced him, not the other way around!

"I — WAIT —! YOU BASTARD!" Is the only thing left to your lips as you pushed him away when you finally gathered your strength back. Your legs feel numb as you stumbled back, almost crashing yourself down on the pile of books behind and he's quick with his movements to capture you, but he halted on his movements.

"Don't come any closer," He saw his own blade on your hand, pointing the sharp edge towards him and Ayato was stunned as he looked at you. When did you have his blade in your hand? You were sly and quick with movements that he didn't even noticed the subtle of your hand on his back as you caught his blade on your hand. "Let's talk like this."

"Speak now, My Lady." He offered you to go first and you took a deep breath.

"Father told me that you seems to not take a liking to my older twin, ten years ago. That's why, I am the one he sent here. He's been planning to fix our reputation here in Inazuma because of the assumptions and accusations which I've proven true. Father did killed the Lady of Kamisato clan, but not with poison." Ayato listened as he eyed you, your hand still had its grip on his own weapon.

"What did he used?"

"It's a herbal medicine which triggers a certain disease to become more complicated and later uncurable. I've read it in a book and I found out the cure for it and I might have save the Lady if I am the one Father sent ten years ago. But, he didn't plan on sending me because he knew I have such knowledge that will make a hinder for his cunning plans," You finished as you finally let your guard down, walking towards him as you wrapped a hand around his waist — yet again, you're close to him, his manly scent mixed with yours mingling on your nostrils as you put his weapon back on his pocket. His stature melt on your warmth.

"So, I, uhm.... I apologize," You spoke with such a small voice, hiding your face own his chest and arm still wrapped around his waist. "I apologize for my family's behalf. I.... I will do anything to pay for Father's debt."

Ayato gritted his teeth — it was his turn to get furious now as he stared at you; your eyed had lost its expression — it turned dull and regretful. His hand find its way to your jaw as his firm grip had made you startled a little before he turn your face in his direction, craning your neck to stared at him. He seems.... mad.

Your father is the one who has a debt to pay to him, but you are the one here — in front of him, asking for forgiveness and anything just to remove the burden Ayato put in your family. This wasn't supposed to happened; to have you beg - the sound of you begging is not what he meant you to do, he wants to hear you begging in other way around.

But, it seems like his plan already failed from where he kissed you with fiery desires.

You already have no intentions on lying in front of his face, nor lie for your family.

You wanted his help, you were tempted as you fell for this tricks the very first moment you let him kiss you and tease you.

"Anything? You can give me anything I please?" He saw the nervousness that flashed in your eyes, although, you nodded, you seem hesitant — he can feel it.

"You knew, you just did gave me a consent to kill your father as a payment for his debt, right? Your older twin is not even an exemption." His lips are dangerously close to your ear as he whispered and all of the attitude you gave him earlier disappered. He's keeping an eye on the very expression you're making when he pulled away, but his hand stays on your jaw, now gently grasping your face.

Ayato has been keeping an eye out of you with the help of Cyno, the General from Sumeru who's also your assistant. For ten years, he had known you even without meeting you, in general. He watches you from afar, the suffers you experienced and the tragic scenarios that happened to you — every single detail of your life — he knew it all.

He wanted to save you, but the heavy crime your family had made to ruin his own is unforgivable. He grew up quickly, his childhood forgotten and has to take care of the clan that was left for him. At a young age, he work for the sake of his family and his younger sister.

But, you also experienced the same with another scenario. You've lost your innocence at a young age, you've lost your dignity as a woman the moment your father had his hands all over you. Despite your protest, he tortured you with his vision instead while your older twin did nothing. The constant torture and pain had you turning numb through the years.

He's not mad at you, he's mad at what your supposed to be relationship had been ruined, even though you has yet to meet him.

"Just," Ayato felt a tug on his kimono as you buried your face on his chest, wrapping both of your arms around his waist and he melted in your touch. "Do anything and save me from this suffering."

He waited long enough for you.

Ayato will be selfish this time.

Your eyes fall open when you felt an electrocuting feeling that travels through your body, eyes widening as you push yourself away from him, flinching from suffocating feeling in your body as you silently gasp, vision slightly blurrying at the twitch of your every vein.

"Lady —!"

You brought a hand to stop him from stepping closer to you as you pant. The familiar feeling of this sudden power urging in your body is making you nauseous. Your father's vision was all over you - his power to electrify and turn you into a mindless puppet is activating yet again. The vision that was tied up on your waist is loosing its nature and you could only gasp at the feeling of being a puppet again.

Not in front of him.....

"D-Don't.... come any.... closer." You've managed to say before your eyes rolled at the back of your head and your vision blacked out.

It doesn't take a matter of time when your father slamming the door open where you're located, already dashing towards you with a faux look of concern on his face — knowing this is his doing. He could tell what happened inside this room by listening to your heartbeat; it became calm and collected and knowing that sign is just up to no good.

Were you acting just to escape this scenario or did you really fell for this man at first sight?

Nevertheless, he was furious and confuse to say, at least. Now that the first step of his plan failed successfully, he's making sure that you will play along with his further plans.

"My daughter, what happened?! What did you do, Lord Kamisato?!" He immediately blamed the Yashiro Commissioner, who seemed genuinely shocked and concerned at your state. "Oh, my daughter!"

“Call a doctor! Please!” Your father’s fake concern is now turning into reality when he put his fingers on your pulse that seems to slow down its beat and weakened in process. He didn’t mean nor attempt to murder his own child — it was just part of the plan and you’re not even listening to his commands!

THIS IS NOT HIS FAULT.

His whole body shooked as he felt your slow hearbeat and it seems like the people around him weren’t helping as they stared. Is this Kamisato Ayato’s payback? But, you can’t die! He can’t afford to lose his favorite child — his most obedient and precious child.... the one he tormented and carved into perfection. It was you! You were his perfect daughter, you were everything he could ask for.

He tortured you perfectly, made you his perfect puppet of a daughter and have you satisfy his own desires, although you always refused to be touched, you’re always gonna pay for that unacceptable actions, anyway as he sends bolts of electricity to run through your body that travels in every pits of your brain and have you gasping and hallucinating.

That created the other you.

You are an only child.

You are his only child.

Yet, at the sudden burst of emotions and raging vision, you created another version of yourself; a version of your father’s desires.

A version of a person you doesn’t want you to be.

THIS IS ALL HIS FAULT.

“CYNO!” He called him as the said man hurriedly run through the scene, already sweating at the sight of your paling skin and bluish lips. He slightly push your father away to carry you, hooking his arms on the back of your shoulder and knees as he keep you close, your body slowly turning cold and his heart beats fast when he realized.

He’s not dumb, nor into oblivion. He knew you too well than you knew yourself.

Yet, once again, he failed to save you.

In the midst of running outside the Kamisato estate, he could feel the Yashiro Commissioner following behind his fast pace — hearing a faint plead in the scorching cold wind as it reaches his ears;

“My Lady, please, stay with me.”

“She’s an only child,” Cyno blurted out as soon as the doctor leaves the room, leaving him and Ayato in an awkwards silence. Cyno’s eyes landed on your unconscious state, delectable sighing at the sight of your calm face that, although it’s calm, he can’t help but to worry that you might not be able to wake up anymore — or your nightmares will successfully haunt you in your sleep. “She’s been assaulted by her father after his wife died. Maybe, because Young Lady really look like her mother..... or maybe, it’s just the way of how he show his love to his daughter. Nevertheless, it was disturbing and disgusting. And, I did nothing but to only hear her cries as she refused to see me after it was ended,”

“Both of you share the same similary in life; the women who gave you this birth of life were killed by the same man. Maybe, that’s why she asked for assistance, even though it will also betray herself as a daughter to her father.”

Ayato stared at him, examining the way he looks at you with admiration amd hope glimmering in his eyes — it makes his stomach churned and his chest tight. Yet, he can’t lift a finger on the moment as Cyno exclaimed the truth and the fact that both of your mothers had been killed by the only man he despises, and the man that you called father.

You were so nice, so pure, too good in this world as he realized that you can easily escape by your father’s grasp with the help of this man in front of him. But, you didn’t — only because it was your personal matters and the General is your employee. Those standard has been engraved in your mind, tattooed in your heart.

That’s one of the reason why Ayato is in love with you.

He’s been mindlessly awaiting for your return to his life after ten years — where back when he’s young, he met you.

It was you again.

The young woman clad in slacks and button-up, longsleeve, white shirt that compliments your sharp aura, coat resting briefly on your shoulder as your stature is as elegant. He’s been seeing you at the same spot for a while now — a spot in the busy city of Inazuma where you can see the view of a lake and koi fishes swimming in the clear water.

He’s been enticed at the look on your glowing face as though it was your first time here. Well, maybe it is by the way you wore differently and obviously from a first class family. His own self were to keep coming back at this time of the night just to watch you from afar.

He staggers a little closer to where you are standing, yet it still far away as you seems in a deep thought, too deep that you didn’t bother to look at him when he finally approaches you — this time, you have a dark fedora hat that hid your face away from his vision, but he can stil see the shape of your nose and lips on his view.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” He spoke, rather than a greetings. He’s stunned by his sudden statement, he wasn’t suppose to say that! It was clearly a figure of speech for a confession of love.

And, you were aware of it.

He saw how your lips quirked up in a slight smirk and he felt embarrased, flushed pink as he internally scream to himself.

“Indeed, another peaceful night in the city.” You answered and his heart begins to rumble on his chest when he finally got to hear your voice — it was soothing on his ears as you spoke in a smooth voice, almost a little breathless as you puffed a breath. You seems deep in your own thoughts as he leaned on the railings, you still didn’t caught a glimpse of the stranger talking to you, but you took a glimpse of hands covered in dark gloves.

“Inazuma is a beautiful city, not to bribe since I am raised here, but it truly is.” His voice is laced with a hint of playfulness as the atmosphere turned comfortable enough, even though you still hadn’t take any glance of him.

“Yes, I can totally see it. This city is not only the beautiful one here; even the people too,” He’s quite caught off guard by your statement as he glance at you, seeing as how you’re now peeking to take a look at him under your fedora as he took a sharp, surprised breath when he finally had the chance to take a look at your eyes — glimmering under the moonlight as your lips looks lucious painted with chapstick, your eyelashes were fluttered just enough to let him know what you really meant behind those words as his face flushed with a hint of embarassment and admiration. “Truly, you were stunned with my words, Mister. Or is it because you’ve finally managed to caught my attention?”

“Well, I certainly did caught your attention, but you managed to overcharmed me with my antics. I never knew you were such a smooth talker.” You chuckled at his reply. He was clearly stunned as he rambled with his words, clearly flustered.

“I’ll thank you for that compliment, Mister. It seems like, you are very familiar with this city, yes?” You continue the conversation, and Ayato were happy to talk as much when you seemed interested to make conversation with him — finally, he could hear your voice as his lavender eyes never left you. He’s awestruck, looking at the very scenery in front of him in adoration.

He can’t believe, he had been pining over you for how long it takes that he’s willing to do anything just to cross your path again, just to see your pretty face again. It’s been a decade, a whole ten years he wasted just to put up a courage and reach you out with his own hand. Everything is now coming in place, yet he knew you still needed time to recollect things. He can’t come reaching for you that easy..... as of now, you are emotionally broken and physically exhausted. But, maybe this is the time where he could take care of you now, like a wife.

His wife.

That sounds.... so right.

And, later on, he hopes you will be able to feel the same.

“That’s why, I beg you,” Cyno’s words snapped him out of his thoughts as he glance at the white haired man that has been staring at you. “Please, be patient and take care of her.”

“Oh, you’re awake.”

It’s a surprise for the younger Kamisato to see you sitting on the bed. It’s been a month of being bedridden and unconscious, whenever her older brother’s not around, Ayaka will be the one waiting for you to wake up.

She’s the witness of her brother’s longing for you — as he described you as a quite daring lady with an attitude, right now, you were inna complete silent as you stared at the young lady with the same lavender eyes of her own brother, leaving you quite shakened at the fact that every memories before you’ve became unconscious coming back like a tidal waves crashing on the shore. It makes you quite dizzy as your hand came contact with the tip of your lips and Ayaka had stared at you knowingly.

“He’s been waiting for your wake. How are you feeling, Lady?” She approached you gently and surely, sitting at the edge of the bed on your side. “Here, have a glass of water.”

She reached to the bedside where a small table were aligned, reaching for the newly poured glass of water as you accepted the kind offer of the young lady, sipping on the lukewarm water as you sighed.

“Are you going to marry my brother?” Her question caught you off guard as you choked on the water, coughing a little as you stared at her in bewilderedment. Marry? Him? Thinking about everything that had happened between the Kamisato and your family is all and messy, and being tied up or worse, being married with the man you want to love and loathed with your life at the same time makes you want to run away.

“I think, you’ve got the wrong idea here, Young Lady,” You replied with a stern voice, eyeing the young lady intently. “I am an enemy and a threat in your family.”

“He didn’t thought of you that way.” She immediately answered and you sighed frustratedly.

“Clearly, he’s making a gain out of this.” You shook your head, flipping the blanket out of your way as you stood up, fumbling slightly and Ayaka slightly panicked at the sight — she already figures out that you’ll run away again as you put on your shoes that was on the side of the bed, putting all your strength to stand up and the young lady stood on your way.

“I don’t blame you for my mother’s death so, is he, so stop making everything is your fault. If he will ever blame you at something, maybe it was because you keep running away from him.”

“Why is he in love with me in the first place? We’ve barely know each other, and on top of that —”

“There’s no thousands of reasons for someone to be in love and this is not the first you saw each other, Lady Y/N. Please, remember my brother and, maybe you’ll consider. He loves you dearly.” She reached for your hand — it felt surprisingly warm and you stared at the pen she gave you and you vaugely realized what it meant.

You heave a sigh as you stood outside of his office — Ayaka had told you that Ayato is not on the mansion as he travels for a while without knowing the reasons, yet she told you he kept his office open even though he never left his office room unlocked.

You reached for the doorknob, twisting your wrist as you enter the familiar room — a sense of deja vu had hit you when you remembered what happened in this very room, on the spot where his table and chair is located.

A surge of warm sensation hit you when you remembered how his lips felt on yours and you tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you arrived in front of his table.

Ayaka told you a certain file that Ayato prepared for you, and you already have an idea of what is it, but still, a surge of anxiousness hit you when you found it on the cabinet of his table.

“This.....” Your voice trailed as you stared at the paper, reading the entire file with trembling hands as your eyes landed on the pen on your hold. Ayaka is not forcing you to sign the paper that will tied you to her older brother for a lifetime. You eyed the paper hesitantly before you decided to sit on the chair.

“How absurd,” You whispered to yourself as you clench your fist. “You really think I would sign this?”

Ayato had arrived in his estate where the moon is already at its domain, it’s striking on the dark sky brightly as it illuminates in the room on his bed, where a familiar figure sitting on the edge. He halts when he closed the door.

You huffed. You’ve been waiting for him the whole night and he stands there, too stunned at the conscious sight of you. You gritted your teeth in annoyance before you stood up as you marched towards him.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Commissioner.” Your voice sounds harsh as he snapped out of his thoughts and his eyes landed on your form, wearing a white robe without nothing underneath. Your eyes looks dark and enriching as you pull him by his collar, slamming your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck to cage him close to you, the sound that escapes his lips only urge you.

His hands lands on your hips, his resistance to push you away disappeared when your hands started to roam around his body — to his chest where you push him slightly around as he landed a little forceful to the bed where it creaks loudly on the silence of the night. Ayato sighed in your mouth when he tasted the bitterness of the alcohol on your tounge — he hesitates to touch you when he smell the alcohol mixed with your intoxicating scent, but all of his hesitations merely disappered when your hands fumbled on his kimono, removing his upper clothes as you continue to kiss him; all tounge and teeth grazing on his lips and tounge as his grip on you tightened when your hips started to move on his lap.

His breathing is in unsteady rhythm when you finally remove his upper clothes, his other hand landed on the bed to steady himself with your harsh kiss. Your arms are yet to wrapped around his neck again, nails grazing on his back as he unexpectedly moans in your mouth. You finally let him breathe for a moment, only to reconnect your lips on his jaw, the smoothness of his skin were velvet on your lips as your harsh mouth marks his skin — painting him with your feverish series of kisses, teeth and tounge until your satisfied.

You slightly move away from him, admiring the art you made on his skin that was surely hard to cover for days. His lavender eyes were alluring under the moonlight — the only source of light in his dark room; you were no exception — you look heavenly on his gaze, the robe on your body had slipped on your shoulder enough to let him have a peak of your cleavage that is yet to be explored. But, your patience waiting for him all night is thin.

“My Lady? What’s the matter?” He asks you as you kissed your teeth together in annoyance. “This..... are you sure about this? We should probably let you sober for a moment —”

“I’m not drunk!” You raised your voice, brushing your hair away from your face as you gripped on his shoulder for support.

“I only drink two glass, Commissioner. If you won’t take me right here and now, I’ll kill you instead.” You huffed as you reach for his hand on your hips, guiding it on the crook of your neck as you sighed at the feeling of his large hand, he brushed his thumb over your skin as he pulls you again for a seething kiss — softer and slower this time unlike your previous pace. You mewl on his mouth when his hand brushed on your chest, cupping one mound on his warm hand as his thumb brushes on your nipple — the robe wrapped around your body had dropped all the way down.

You curse under your breath when his hand started to roam around your body, mapping every part that is making you twitch and mewl on his lap. His hand wandered on your thigh, caressing the skin before his hand brushes between your thighs and you gasped, eyes shooting open as you slightly pushed him away from your lips.

You hummed when his fingers started to caress between your thighs as he coats his fingers with your essence. You throw your head back as he drinks at the sight of your figure shaking on top of him — all bare and ready for him to take you. He eyed you with the same burning desire when your eyes landed on him as you grind down on his fingers before he let one finger slipped in, relishing at the warmth and how tight it convulsed on his digit — you moaned, pulling him closer to your chest as you buried your face on his neck, making a series of bluish puple marks as you heavily sigh against his skin.

“Ayato...” A mumble of his name as you call for him. He could feel the heat bubbling on his chest straight on his restraining cock confines still on his pants. He started to move his finger inside you, grinding on that certain spot he subconsciously found that has you panting and moaning as you muffled your voice on his shoulder where you bite and suckle on the skin. He slipped in another finger and you let out a broken moan, nails digging on his skin.

“Ah —! I’m close.” You could feel the coil tightening on the pits of your stomach, bubbling on the sensation of his two fingers scissoring you open and he felt you tightening on his digits, soaking his fingers with your essence — just a little more, and you’re there — not until he pulled his fingers out and you whined, tears pricked your eyes when the sensation disappeared momentarily as your body shake on top of him.

“Y-You bastard! I was close!” You sttuters in complain.

“As much as I want to pleasure you, I am losing my patience here, sweetheart.” He replied and you huffed, fumbling on his pants. He distract you, pulling you in a kiss as he sighed in your mouth when he’s finally free from his pants, the cold air contrasting with the warm feeling of your body as he hikes your hips up, his other hand holding his cock as he lined up with your entrance. You bit on his lips when the head catches on your clit, before he tease his way on your entrance, the hand on your hip guides you down and you moaned at the stretch, the first inch of his cock making its way inside you.

The burning sensation hurts so good as you push your way down until you can’t anymore. You push him down until he layed on the bed, propping his elbows in, so he could see you. He’s not even halfway inside, but you could feel your legs shake at his above average size — maybe, Ayato could’ve open you properly with his fingers when you seemed to struggle to take him all in. He eyed the way you’re trembling on top of him, you were dripping, though, it’s not enough to take him all.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” His other hand reached over to the both of your hands as he put it down on his chest and the other hand intertwining with yours. Your heart pounds on your chest at the gesture when he squeezes your hand. Something inside of you bubbling at the sensation of his cock and the way he looks at you; it was daring and full of passion as his lavender eyes never left your figure, he sits upright as his other arm wrapped around you to keep you still. “You can take me. I know you can do it.”

You hissed. You clearly isn’t used in this kind of treatment. You quite expected that maybe, if you were to seduce him tonight, he will force his way to you — but, your expectations differ when he let you take his fingers first even though, he edge you to climax. You were used having someone forcing you in this kind of activity.

“S-Shut up.” You answered and he grins, placing a chaste kiss on your lips, whispering praises on your ears when you took another bunch of inch inside of you.

It felt never-ending as you felt full now he’s halfway as he eyed on your lower stomach, pressing on the bulge and you yelp. You could feel the denied orgasm coming back to you in a surge when your ass finally came contact on his thighs, your voice were muffled by your hand as you bit down at the feeling.

You could feel, you could see him there, inside of you, buried inside to the hilt as the blunt head of his cock kissed on your cervix — the thickness and stretch of him is enough to touch the certain spot inside of you that had you crumbling in a bliss of oblivion as you came, writhing and grinding down om his more as he watched you fumble in a beautiful mess on top of him. He moaned, relishing at the feeling of your walls tightening and convulsing as he chokes at the sensation. You’re shaking and thighs trembling as you finally came down on your high, panting loudly as your mouth agape.

“Ah — wait, Ayato —!”

He gripped on your hips when you tried to move. “I told you, I could wait. Don’t force yourself, sweetheart.”

“Stop boasting about how big you are!” You replied in annoyance as you huffed, gripping on his shoulders for support. “Let me — l-let me move, bastard.”

He grins again, pecking on your lips before his grip on your hips loosened a little and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest on him as he started to mark your ches, neck, and jaw with his lips as he sighed when you started to move slowly — up and down as you mewl at the feeling of his cock brushing on every and very spots inside you as you scratch your nails on his skin.

The hand on your hips guide you up and down as you created a steady rhythm — the sound of your bodies making contact filled the room as his breaths became foggy and unrelenting, eyeing the way your eyes rolled on the back of your head when your pace started to move faster until he can’t hold back his voice anymore.

“Y/N,” He moans your name and he felt your body shivered on his touch. “Let me, sweetheart.”

He whispered on your lips and you open your eyes in confusion as you halted, panting hardly and you yelped when he flipped you, your back comes contact with the soft sheets of his bed without pulling out entirely inside of you, your legs instinctly wrapped around his waist.

“Wait —! Still sensitive... Ayato —!” You tried to push him away by his chest as he pushed his light blue hair away from his face and momentarily stared at his stature — seeing him all naked in glory as the moonlight reflects on his panting figure.

“You can take it, right?” His nose graze on your cheek as he placed a kiss there, slowly and surely, he’s pushing all of him again inside you, eyeing your shaking figure and the erotic expression written on your face; your eyes are cloudy and widening, swollen lips parting, series of moans and his name falling on your lips as he pulls back to leave the tip inside just to thrust back again, angling his hips a little higher as he hits that spot.

His pace were slow, yet his thrusts were calculated and hard as his hips snap on the back of your thighs — he never goes faster as he make love with you slowly and deeply until you were coming again and again, coating his cock with your essence as he tried to muffle your moans with the help of his lips, drowning your sounds of pleasure on his mouth when you started to get louder than he expected — he’s no exception too as he comes, painting your walls white, filling you to the brim as he moans and whimpers on your lips.

“You can take more?” His question doesn’t sound interrogative even when his hips started to move again as your eyes filled with tears of pleasure and joy that you realized — the walls you built for him came crashing down as he make love to you — pushing your body to your limits with his deep, yet still slow thrusts until you were a moaning mess, marking each other all im while as he whispered those words that has your heart pounding on your chest.

“I love you.”

You bit back the urge to cry your heart out, feeling that swirling on your chest and the clench of your heart as you rethinks your choice; you signed on the marriage paper — you don’t regret that part, you won’t regret being his bride, his wife, and the future child that will grow after tonight — what you regret is your final decision that surging in your mind, the decision that will surely breaks him — because right now, the thought of being in love frightened you,the thought of finally having something to live to is making you crumble in the dark. But, you know he will understand you — you know he’ll wait until you’re finally ready. Right now, you were in the midst of chaos, right now, you will surely break his heart.

His runaway bride.

Disclaimer; This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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humanitysstrongestsoldier1 · 10 months

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𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓. | 𝑍. 𝐾𝐸𝑁𝑃𝐴𝐶𝐻𝐼 x Reader

TW: violence, blood, stitches, battle, cursing, explicit sexual content

AO3 LINK!!!

"Rage, love, lust, on fire." - ODETARI, NARCISSISTIC PERSONALITY DISORDER

I was walking back to squad 4 after healing some injuries of the men from the skirmish that happened yesterday. However, some idiots decided to block my path and try- keyword try- to flirt with me. Unfortunately, they weren't good men, they were men who thought I couldn't fight so I proved them wrong. Lurking in the shadows was the Captain of Squad 11, Zaraki Kenpachi, who loved the smell of bloodlust seeping from my aura. He too, wanted a fight, an honourable one.

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Notes:

Kenpachi may be OOC a bit. Since I am a new writer, this was the most explicit smut I have ever written in my life- atp even god can't save me 💀

PS : I feel like Pachi smells like lavender cuz like u know the colour of squad 11 is like a lavender-purple, idk man just a headcanon🤷

_______

The heat of the summer in the Seireitei was getting to me, and I was sweating my ass off. Tending to the wounds of those two-bit wannabe captain soul reapers had ruined my mood for the day. My captain, Unohana-sama, had stationed me in the barracks of Squad 11 to tend to the injuries of members who participated in the small skirmish that happened yesterday. It was definitely not fun, mostly due to the men ogling my appearance. Unlike most soul reapers, I did not wear a traditional Shihakushō with long sleeves; instead, it was cut short and covered my shoulders. I did wear a haori over it, but due to the summer, I opted not to today. I also had some buttons opened to let my body breathe. Most of the men who were staring me down were quickly shut down by a simple flex of my muscles; my biceps were not playing, and they were begging to be wrapped around someone’s neck to hear the crack.

Ugh, what was I thinking? If my captain heard my thoughts, she would definitely shut them down, reminding me that I am now a healer and no longer a warrior or even a scientist. I continued walking down the alley and saw a group of men approaching me. I rolled my eyes at their snickers and giggles—they sounded like a group of middle school girls around their crush.

"Hey squad 4 bitch!" One of them yelled out as they got closer.

I was now trapped by four men who were staring me down like I was a piece of meat. I arched my eyebrow and looked at them, beckoning him to continue.

"Women from Squad 4 seem to be very skilled with their hands; wanna prove that to me?" One of them said, his crooked teeth and unruly eyebrows made me want to gag, but out of professionalism, I kept my calm.

"Hey, bro, it would be easy to just bring her with us; it's not like she can fight back; she's just a healer." The other said this while smirking, while keeping his eyes on my breasts.

With a small smirk, I finally spoke up: "What makes you think we of the 4th squad can’t fight?"

"You are healers; you probably can't even punch for shit, hell even-"

I cut him off right there and sent a hard punch to his nose. He went flying back and caused the dirt to cloud around us.

"Can’t punch for shit eh? How's that?" I said, grinning at the pool of blood forming around him. "Maybe that ‘weak’ punch fixed your crooked ass teeth." I said, quoting the ‘weak’ part with my fingers.

"Why you little bitch!" One yelled out, lunging for my neck.

I was too proud to pull out my Zanpakuto, so I blocked him with my bare hands. The other two tried lunging at me while I was occupied with the first, but they failed due to my legs kicking back and twisting around them. I changed my stance to an offensive Melee-style fight. I focused my strength on hand-to-hand combat and lunged at the three. Luckily, the fourth one that I punched was knocked out, lying in a pool of his blood. I laughed at their pathetic excuse of a battle and immediately released some of my spiritual pressure, causing them to buckle and kneel at my mere presence.

I chuckled at their horrified expressions. "You call yourselves Squad 11 warriors? How disgraceful. Now if you wish to die by my hands, I would happily comply; if not, then get your sorry asses up and run while you can."

Not even a second passed, and the three picked up their knocked-out friend and ran for their meagre little lives. I noticed the lurking figure watching the battle in silence a while ago, but I didn't speak to him until now. I knew who it was—the captain of the 11th.

"How long are you going to stand there and gawk, Captain?" I said, smirking at his shadow. "How come you didn't stop your men from attacking a woman like me?"

"I was about to step in, but after that punch, I knew you got it. Who are you, woman? And why aren’t you in my squad if you are so strong?" He said this, stepping out from the shadows and standing in front of me.

"(Surname) (Name), Captain Unohana Retsu’s first line of defence, scientist, and ex-soldier." I said, holding my head high to meet his dark eyes that seemed to pool with desire—a desire for battle. I know that look because, back in the day, I had those same eyes.

"First line of defence? Ah, you must be that girl who was that weirdo’s researcher in squad 12." Captain Zaraki said, grinning.

"By weirdo, I'm assuming, Mayuri-sama. Yes, I was head of microbiology research." I answered.

"So a scientist, healer, and warrior, or ex-warrior? Why refer to yourself as that?"

"Captain Unohana said to leave my warrior mindset behind because I’m now a healer. The only time I can truly show myself is when the 4th Squad barracks are attacked. Since I'm the first line of defence, my job is to destroy the intruders and protect the people. Or, in certain instances like this, where I am surrounded by rapey-looking men," I answered, scowling at the thought of the peasants who dared to speak to me earlier.

Captain Zaraki hummed at my answer, acknowledging the logic behind it: "You have a cocky look to you, darling. Yet, you still hold respect to refer to people with proper dignity."

"I'm not a beast, sir." I give my respect to those who have earned it. And you have earned it with your battle prowess."

"Test that respect." He declared.

"Excuse me?" I was honestly puzzled by his statement.

"Fight me and test me to see if I deserve your respect. If I lose, you can call me as you like."

"I think it's highly inappropriate to fight a captain, and I'm not supposed to." I responded quickly, trying to persuade him.

"Fight me; it's an order, woman." He said it with a small growl.

"I know this isn't about respect; you want to fight me because you're bored."

He chuckled and said, "I live for battle, sweetheart, and I enjoy a good fight more than anything. And you are bringing some fun into this summer."

"Please, captain, this is highly unprofessional. I can’t-"

Before I could finish, she had already pulled his Zanpakuto out and swung it at me. Without missing a beat, I immediately ducked and went behind his large frame.

"Please sir! I can't break my rule. Unohana-sama will-"

"I’m attacking you, aren't I? You are not breaking any rules; you are defending yourself. Bring your sword out and fight me, woman!" He cut my pleading off and turned to swing at me again.

I pulled my Zanpakuto, Homura, out of its sheath and blocked his swing, grimacing at his brute strength.

He laughed maniacally: "There it is, darling, that look in your eyes! That bloodlust! Come on!"

"Tch, you are killing me here, Captain Zaraki!" I pushed him back with my sword and grinned at his shocked expression at my strength.

"Oh yes, I'm going to have so much fun with you!" He lunged back, grinning.

I manoeuvred my way around him, blocked his futile attempts, and cut some of his back and chest in the process. He was coming at me nonstop, and I was getting tired and sweating even more because of his great strength. So I decided to put an end to this fight. I pulled away and placed my sword horizontally in front of my face.

I let out a breath. "Kokoro O Moyase, Bankai: Homura Suryastra!"

Searing flames surrounded the blade and the area surrounding the attacker. Colours of red, orange, yellow, and blue burst from my aura. I immediately lunged at Captain Zaraki while he was busy looking at the beautiful flames. His guard was down, and I kicked the back of his knees very hard, punched his gut, and caused him to kneel. I asked Homura to relax the flames while I pointed the sword at his neck.

"Had enough Zaraki-taichou?" I teased, smirking at his kneeling form.

He looked up at me with blood spilling out of the corner of his mouth and said, "For now, yes, for life? Never. Oh, how I wish you were in my squad; I would never let you go."

My cheeks reddened either from the heat of my Bankai or from the words of the man panting and smiling at me.

"A deal is a deal. Speak my name without the honorifics; you deserve it." He praised her, standing up.

"But I can’t possibly—" I tried exclaiming before he cut me off with a sharp look.

"Okay, Kenpachi." I spoke his name softly, liking the way it felt on my tongue. "Please allow me to heal your cuts; it's the least I can do."

He nodded and ushered me to follow him to his private quarters.

_______

I stood behind Kenpachi, stitching up one of the deeper cuts I made. I apologised to him earlier for cutting him up, but he said that he took his scars as memories of great battles. He urged me to only stitch him up so he could relish the experience of the fight.

I ran my fingers over the stitched-up wound and felt his chiselled back tense at my hands. I mumbled a quick apology and moved up and off the engawa to stand on the grass in front of us. I stood between his legs and found the gash on the left side of his chest. I grabbed the antiseptic and dabbed it on the cotton before placing it on the wound.

He hissed at the feeling and wrapped his large hand around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest. My hands were fisted, and they rested on his collar bones.

"Sorry, it always burns." He groaned.

"It's alright; I don't quite like the feeling either."

He didn't push me back or remove his hand from my waist; he just waited for me to continue. So I did. I pressed the cotton again, and he winced at the burning sensation, squeezing my waist slightly. To console him, I bent down and blew some air at the burning wound. His muscles relaxed, and I started stitching him up once more.

A gentle silence blessed our presence, and I sighed, "You're all good, Kenpachi."

He hummed and removed his hand from my waist. "(Name), what do you feel when you fight?" He randomly asked, trying to entice a conversation. He removed his strapless eyepatch with a grey border and awaited my answer.

My cheeks slightly reddened at the use of my name: "Umm. I would say it was a thrill. Like a rush of adrenaline and pleasure. I always win. So it's an absolute blast watching them fall to their failure."

He shifted his eyes around my face and did not respond to my question. I met his eyes, and I saw a familiar look. The look of desire. But not the one that I saw when we fought. No. This one was different.

"Kenpachi? What’s wro-" My question was shut off.

His large hands wrapped around my neck gently and pulled me to his level. His warm lips met mine, and my eyes widened at the sudden action.

I pulled back and said, "Kenpachi, this isn't right!"

He smirked and yanked my arm to pull me forward. His arms grasped the back of my knees and wrapped my legs around his toned waist. I gasped at this movement and looked at him.

"Why is it not right?" He asked, smirking slightly.

"Well, because I-I-" My words weren't coming out because I couldn't think of an excuse.

"Hmm? Tell me (Name)." He whispered.

I didn't respond.

Kenpachi chuckled. "That's what I thought, princess. I’m going to ruin you."

His hands grabbed my chin and brought my face closer to his. His lips met mine once again, and this time I didn't object. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, moved my lips with his, and sighed into his touch. His warm tongue slipped into my mouth, and the kiss got deeper and much more passionate. Being a tease, I bit his bottom lip, to which he growled and moved back.

"You are going to regret that, baby." He whispered in my ear.

His hands went to the back of my head and pulled my hair back to give him more access to my neck. His lips bit, sucked, and kissed every area he could find on my neck. He found one certain spot, and I let a breathy moan out. He smiled against my neck.

"Pachi please-I-"

"Say it. Say it, sweetheart."

"I need you."

He growled and immediately got up, lifting me with him and connecting his lips with mine once more. He walked away from the garden and closed the shoji door with one hand. My lips didn't stop moving with his. I wanted more and more of this man.

He walked towards the bed and laid me on it before pulling back and attacking my neck once again. His hands unbuttoned the rest of my uniform and removed the top. His lips met my chest, leaving his art behind, sucking and licking at my skin. One of his hands went behind my back and unclasped my bra. He ripped it off of me, and I moved my hands to try to cover my chest.

He stopped me and said, "Don't you dare, woman. I want to touch and see all of you."

Kenpachi's mouth moved towards the top of my left breast, leaving a dark bruise behind. His tongue slipped out and licked the peak of my hard breast. His lips latched on, sucking, biting, and tugging on the sensitive flesh. My hands tangled in his mid-length hair, pulling every now and then. One of his hands moved to the other breast, kneading it and swiping his thumb on the nipple.

"A-ah~ Pachi, please." I begged him to give me more.

"Patience, baby, I want to feel every inch of you." He whispered against my skin, moving his lips down my naked torso.

He pulled down my pants and threw them on the floor before moving down and leaving kisses on my inner thighs. His thumb brushed my clothed pussy and I moaned at the feeling.

He grinned and said, "Fucking hell, (Name) you’re soaked." He moved his head between my thighs and swiped his tongue upwards on my clothed warmth. My hands immediately grasped his hair, and I sucked in a deep breath.

"Want me to clean you up, love?" He whispered, his lips ghosting over my black panties.

"Mmm yes."

He swiftly pulled my panties off, and his tongue met my clenching cunt. The tip of his tongue met my swollen clit and he moved it around, causing me to moan and writhe below him.

"That's it, pretty girl, fall apart for me." He groaned before latching on to my clit. He sucked hard. Pain and pleasure clouded my mind, and I pulled at his hair and closed my thighs around his head. His room was full of unholy sounds, but Kenpachi most likely thought of them as music to his ears. His lips pulled away from my bundle of nerves before he lowered the tip of his nose so he could tongue my entrance once again. He ran his wide, flat tongue against my core. The heat of his mouth felt so good at my core that I felt myself clenching at nothing.

Taking note of this, Kenpachi slipped two of his fingers inside of me easily. "Look at that, pretty. You take me so well; you want all of me, love? You want my cock? You want me to fill you up?"

I quickly nodded without any hesitation; my walls pulsed under his thick fingers.

"I want to hear you say it, darling. Don’t shy away now. Where did all your fighting go, eh?" He said this while thrusting his fingers upward and curling them to brush against my spot.

"Please pachi! I need- fill me up; I can't- please i need you in me." I looked at his lust-filled eyes looking up at me, I begged him to fuck me, to make me see stars,

"You ask so nicely, princess." He whispers while pulling his fingers out. My cunt clenched at nothing, begging to be filled once again. Holding my jaw, his mouth smashed into mine, again distracting me from his action of removing his trousers. I was met with the taste of my cunt lingering on his tongue, and I was getting more and more impatient, writhing for his cock in me.

Reading my thoughts, Kenpachi rubbed his hardened length against my core, spreading my legs even more. His tip teased my clit and I dug my nails into his back, which he groaned lightly at.

"Careful, don't pull my stitches." He said this while he continued teasing me.

"Kenpachi, please stop teasing me i- ahh~" My pleading was cut off by the feeling of him lining up against my aching hole.

"You want this pretty? You want to be fucked senseless, my little warrior?"

I nodded, struggling to bring the word ‘yes’ to my mouth.

"Say it. You want my cum in you, baby?" He prodded, trying to get me to beg even more.

"Yes! Kenpachi, please paint me white. I swear I’ll do anything."

He chuckled and said, "You are just perfect for me, aren't you? A strong woman who can bring me pleasure in battle and in bed."

I hummed at his praising words, moaning now and then at the feeling of his tip at my pussy. "Yeah," he rumbled, sliding his seeping head slowly to me. "Yeah, that’s it."

I felt the stretch of him inside me, and I bucked my hips, trying to get more of him. He laughs: "Impatient, aren't we?"

Kenpachi pulled back before sliding into me so fast that I couldn't help but release a scream. He sat fully inside of me, stretching my walls out as they clenched around his length.

He grumbled into my neck, "Pretty little pussy. Hm~. All mine. Mine to breed. Mine to fuck."

My nails scratched the muscles on his back as he slowly started thrusting. I locked my legs around Kenpachi's waist, the stretch of his girth becoming more and more heavenly. He let out a groan at the feeling of the tightness. A loud moan left my lips as he went even deeper, his hands gripping my waist so tight that it would likely leave bruises.

"So g-good, Pachi, please, moree-" I breathed out, pleading.

"Yeah?" He groaned, smirking, enjoying the view of me begging.

He moved. Harder. Faster. With every thrust, I jolted, and another lewd noise left my mouth. I was seeing stars as he fucked the living hell out of me. His fingers moved to my sensitive nub, rubbing to try and get me closer to my climax, all while reaching for his as well. The stimulation immediately made me clench harder around his cock, to which he responded with a groan. He buried his face in my neck, kissing and leaving bites while still moving.

"Say my name. I want the entire Seireitei to hear it." He whispered on my skin.

"Ken-Kenpachi!" I yelled, feeling a knot form in my stomach. His name echoed off the walls of his room.

"Yes-yes, that's it; you're so perfect, my little warrior. Mine. Mine. Mine." He growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

Taking my lips into his own, we came at the same time, moaning into each other's mouths and muffling the unholy sounds. His seed coated my walls, making me feel so full. He kept thrusting, helping me ride out my high. He pulled out, and I shivered at the feeling of emptiness. Kenpachi gently moulded his lips with mine; I nibbled on his bottom lip, and he pulled away with a gentle smile. He took in my flushed cheeks and blissful expression before kissing my forehead. He moved down to look at the flesh between my legs, smiling at the mess.

"You look so pretty like this—more prettier than when you fight." Kenpachi whispered while kissing my inner thighs. "I’m stealing you. You're mine now."

I chuckled at his possessiveness and ran my hand through his jet-black hair. "How can I go anywhere? You said it yourself: we are perfect for each other. However, I do need to get back to Squad 4 barracks; my captain is waiting for me."

He groaned and cursed under his breath before lifting me over his broad shoulders and saying, "Not yet. Let's take a bath, then you can go."

I couldn't resist, so I ended up taking a nice, warm, lavender-scented bath with him. Kenpachi helped me get dressed and led me outside, walking with me to the gate of the 11th squad barracks. My legs were on the verge of failing, and I was sore, so Kenpachi wrapped an arm around my waist on the way there.

He kissed the side of my head, his lips ghosting over my temple. "Come over tonight. I’m not done with you yet."

My eyes widened, and I nodded my head as he chuckled at my reddened face. He gave me one last kiss, and I walked out of the 11th Squad area.

~~~~~~

I hummed a song while walking through Captain Unohana’s quarters.

"That happy? Was healing those men really that fun?" I turned to the voice to see Captain Unohana smiling at me.

"Umm, I-yes captain!" I said, standing tall. She hummed and walked past me, asking, "Is that so? You smell like him, (Name). Lying to your captain isn't a good thing."

My eyes widened, and I tried to explain, but she was already gone. I sighed and continued walking to my quarters for a quick nap. I plopped on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and smiling like a madwoman at what just happened with Kenpachi. If showing my bloodlust would cause him to fuck the daylights out of me, then I would show my bloodlust every day.

That night, when everyone was asleep, I did end up going back to Kenpachi’s, looking for more and more of him, whilst he happily obliged.

End Notes:

I am an absolute whore for this man...the things i would let him do to me are so unholy i could never post it anywhere

GIF AINT MINE!!!

#kenpachi x reader #kenpachi x you #kenpachi x y/n #kenpachi imagine #bleach kenpachi #bleach #smut #kenpachi zaraki #kenpachi smut #retsu unohana #yachiru unohana

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laylaackles · 6 months

Text

Birthday Sex (Dean Smut)

Warnings: mask kink, Ghostface mask, sir kink, praise kink, rough sex, sweet aftercare

Song: The Summoning by Sleep Token.

I'm posting this fic as a birthday present to myself (November 13th)

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

A taste of the divine

Tonight had been one of the most fun but stressful nights of your life. Dean was dressed in a black t shirt and blue jeans. He had his hunting boots on. But his face was covered by a Ghostface mask. You were dressed in a silk robe with a red and black lace lingerie set.

You had heels on, but you ditched them in a room, then ran for the kitchen of the bunker. Thank God Sam wasn't home. You wouldn't be able to have this much fun. But you weren't sure what was going to happen when Dean caught you.

You've got my body, flesh and bone, yeah

The sky above, the Earth below

You'd been sipping from a bottle of water in the fridge, trying to regain some strength. You had been getting tired of the running when Dean came up behind you unannounced.

"Oh pretty girl, you weren't supposed to stop running." He'd said.

"Am I in trouble, sir?" You asked.

"Not tonight. See, I would kill you, but you're just too damn pretty. I think I'd rather have you be mine."

"Take me." You'd whispered.

Raise me up again

Take me past the edge

I want to see the other side

See the other side

Clothes began to get thrown around, and Dean had pushed you up against the counter, bending your body.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the Earth below

He easily slid into your entrance. You'd been so turned on from the moment you saw Dean in the mask. You didn't even have to ask. It was his idea. Your pussy was dripping wet by the time he caught up to you.

Raise me up again

Take me past the edge

I want to see the other side

"Such a good, pretty girl. Youre taking me so good." He'd said as he'd slammed into you over and over again.

Won't you show me what it's like?

"You like this? Like it when I dress up for you? I know you love this mask. I feel you squeezing me, pretty girl."

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cut me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

He'd fucked you so hard you thought you wouldn't be able to walk for days. Something about the mask made you both feel so feral and untamed.

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

"Wanna cum baby?" He'd asked.

"Yes sir. Can I cum please?" You asked.

"Only if you promise not to run away from me again."

"I promise."

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

You came hard around his cock. Your pussy was clenching his throbbing cock so hard as you came undone.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the Earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

He'd kept fucking you until he came, and you had both ridden out your highs.

Now, you're settled in the bathtub together. Dean is at one end and you're at the other. He has your left food in his hands. There were still marks on your feet from the heels, even as he massaged them.

"If we ever do this again, you can go barefoot." He said.

"Running in heels is not easy. Or painfree." You responded.

"Well, besides the heels, did you have fun?"

"I did. This is nice too."

You relaxed a little more as Dean continued to massage your foot, then switched to the other one.

You hadn't expected to live out one of your biggest sexual fantasies today, but it was awesome. Best birthday ever.

"Happy Birthday Baby." He said.

"Thank you De."

LA<3

#supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean smut #jensen ackles

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semisgroupie · 1 year

Text

part one: the most beautiful thing i have ever seen

vampire!choso x fem.reader

wc: 10.4k

warnings: death (minor character deaths), blood (consumption), unprotected sex, creampie, choking (non sexual), death threats, oral sex (f!receiving), monsterfucking (since choso is a vampire), virginity, reader is a virgin, age gap (here choso is more than 100 years old), description of a dead body (very brief), choso is very soft and gentle with reader, reader wears a dress, heels and a corset, slight angst, mention of illnesses (to be historically accurate), lots of talk about God, brief mention of satosugu

note: all flashbacks/events in the past are italicized

series masterlist | next part

(taglist form is on the masterlist)

Two men sat in the empty space of the large room. Expensive art and furniture was carefully placed to fill some void of the emptiness. A large coffee table sat between the two men, on top there were two mugs, a pile of magazines and a laptop.

“Okay, is there anything you need before we start?” The question was asked by the blonde man at one end of the table, his back was pressed against the cushions of the velvet couch, crows feet decorated the corners of his eyes and wrinkles were deep set on his face.

“No thank you, I had a feeding earlier so I’m full for now.” Now, the raven haired man spoke. He looked no older than 24, his dark hair was tied back loosely and some stray hairs shaped his face, his eyes were dark and empty, his lips were downturned to a small frown.

“It feels cold here,” the blonde placed his hands in his lap, looking around the room. All the windows were covered with blackout shades, no traces of sunlight entered the room and if it weren’t for the lamps and interior lights the room would have been pitch black.

“Do you want me to turn up the heat? The weather is changing, you should have brought something warmer to wear.” The darker haired male stood and just before he could take his first step the blonde male interjected. “No, not physically cold. How can I put this?”

“Just spit it out Kento, you won’t hurt my feelings by being honest. I prefer your honesty more than anything.” Kento nodded and tapped his finger against his chin, trying to find the right words. “It’s funny, I’m a novelist and I can’t even find the right words to put together. What I mean is this room, this entire penthouse is cold. There’s no joy, no warmth, it just feels like a space being put together for the sole purpose of habitation. It’s just a space but not a home.”

The raven haired male chuckled softly and nodded. “You’re not wrong, this place isn’t a home. It was never meant to be a home, I mean I tried to make it as such but seems like I failed with that. But without her, this space will never be a home. Only she could bring the warmth that’s needed, for I can never do that by myself. But, I’ll get more into that once we begin.”

“Fine, let’s start,” the blonde reached into his jacket that was splayed across the arm of the couch and pulled out a tape recorder. He hit the record button and held it to his mouth, “it is September 28th, the year is 2002. My name is Nanami Kento and I am here with,” he leaned in and set the tape recorder on the table, somewhat towards the middle point between them. “Go on and introduce yourself.”

The raven haired male brushed some hairs from his face and crossed one of his legs over the other, “my name is Choso Kamo.”

Nanami chuckled and shook his head, “a man of few words, you haven’t changed much over the years, Choso.” He smiled softly and gripped his mug, taking a sip of the contents inside, “what are you and how old are you?”

“I’m a little over 200 years old, 220 years old to be exact, and I am a vampire. Now, what I will say may seem made up, believe what you want because it is not my job to make you believe me. What my job is, is to tell you my story and since we are good friends, I will tell you every single detail. Don’t worry about me being offended if you need to research anything during our session, I understand so feel free to fact check while I’m here.”

“Thank you for that, so when you’re ready you can start from the beginning. Some of your life before you turned, or when you were turned, just let it all out. The mic is yours.”

Choso nodded and brought his mug to his lips, wetting them before setting it back down. “I was born in the year 1782, in a modest town. I was raised by my mother with a heart of gold and my father who was complete scum. She was always too good for him and deep down she knew it too but would never admit it. You know, when he died I didn’t shed a single tear. I was only 5 years old and not one tear fell from my eyes, my siblings were too young to remember him and it was good that they didn’t. I wouldn’t want them to remember someone like him.” He shook his head at the memory, not wanting to dwell on it further he decided to move on.

“I’m the oldest of four, two brothers and one sister. I think I did a good job as a big brother, I protected them as much as I could and became a father figure to them. I cherished them more than life itself and I still do. I so badly wanted to change them, I wanted to prevent the suffering and impending doom of old age but I could not give this curse to them, it had to be a cross I had to bear on my own. My youngest brother was the one who clutched onto me the most, Yuuji.” A small smile graced his face for barely a second before it fell back to a frown. “He had the brightest eyes and the brightest smile I had ever seen. When he smiled it was brighter than the sun, moon and stars combined. I envied him for that, it was selfish but I couldn’t help it. I had always thought, ‘why wasn’t I gifted with a smile like his? Why couldn’t I be like Yuuji?’ It just wasn’t in the cards for me and that was something I had to, and still, live with to this day.”

He pulled the elastic that held his hair together and let the dark strands fall into their own place. “It pained me the most to see him die, I think I had never cried that much before in my life. I miss him dearly, I still carry a note from him in my wallet. It’s written messily and the paper is on its last leg but I can’t pull myself to part from it. I guess I need it with me, it’s kind of like having him by my side.” He shifts a bit to pull his wallet from his back pocket and opens the black leather up to show the paper, stained from age and wrinkled beyond belief. The words are barely legible due to the messy handwriting and the smudged letters but Kento could make it, “Choso, I thank God every single day that you’re my big brother. I love you — Yuuji.” Kento sat back into place after reading the content of the note aloud, it was like the room grew even colder once the last syllable was spoken. Choso’s face downturned even more as he closed his wallet and put it away.

“But, let me get back to the story before I make this even more depressing,” he sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. “Where was I?” He tapped his finger against the arm of the loveseat he sat on. “Ah, my siblings. So, back home I found and picked up whatever work I could find. Both ethical and not but as long as it meant I was bringing money back home, then I did whatever it took. I never wanted my family to deal with the burden of going hungry, something that many people in my town dealt with. I mean at that time everyone was struggling so I’m not here to make my life sound like a pity story, it’s anything but that. I don’t want or deserve any pity, I just want to share my story.”

He took another sip of the contents inside his mug and set it down. “I had just turned 24 when I was turned into this. It was late and it was a warm Saturday evening. I was with a young girl, who everyone called the town whore, I believe her name was Selene. They said that you could give her a coin off the ground and she would sleep with you. I was a virgin so I was dying to test that theory out, it was wrong of me and it’s sad that only now I could realize that. I wish I could apologize to her for thinking what I thought, to try to make something up to her.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I had taken her out to dinner to be nice and we were walking down a back route back to her home. She lived alone so it would make it easy for me to fuck her without any interruptions but it seemed that the interruption had come before we would even come close to her home. It was a dark path, barely lit by some of the kerosene lamps that were put in front of the homes. She was a few steps ahead of me, leading the way back to her home and I had stopped in my tracks, hearing what sounded like footsteps behind us. When I looked around there was nothing there, or so I thought. She had gone ahead of me, believing I was behind her but I was too distracted by trying to figure out where the sound came from or who it came from. I took a few steps in the direction where I had heard the sound then the next thing I heard was a scream coming behind me, it was quickly cut off and when I turned around Selene was gone. Fear coursed through my veins and I yelled out for her, only to receive no response. I searched for her and then I found her, well her body at least. It wasn’t even that long since I heard the scream but there she was, limp and cold. I kneeled down and my eyes widened at the sight, her skin was extremely pale, her body was drained of its blood to the very last drop. I got up, I needed to get help, I needed to do something but the second my eyes moved from her lifeless body all thoughts left me. I saw him, blood dripped from his chin — let me correct that, Selene’s blood dripped from his chin and he looked at me with a proud smile on his face. Every nerve and synapse in my body screamed at me to run, to get away from him or to just do something but I just couldn’t.”

He shook his head as he recounted the story and Kento leaned in, “if it’s too much for you to recount then we can just move on. You don’t have to relive everything.”

He shook his head and tied his hair back up. “No, it’s not that. It’s just that, that moment was the first time I felt what true fear was like. I have been scared before by minor things but fear is a paralyzing agent, it swarms you and surrounds you like you’re wearing a straitjacket. So I just stood there, waiting for his next move. I couldn’t even ball my fists up to try to defend myself against this monster. I suddenly felt his hand wrap around my neck and squeeze with the force of a hundred men. The oxygen slipped through my lungs fairly quickly then darkness consumed me. When I woke up I was in a tight space, I felt around me and all I felt was fabric. I banged on what I presumed was the roof and after a few hits it opened. I crawled out of the space and once my eyes adjusted to the light I screamed. I was in a coffin and to the left of me was another coffin. I didn’t even know how I got there but I needed to get out. I got to my feet and stumbled out of the room, I went down the stairs and there he sat.”

----------------------------

Heavy footsteps padded the floor, they were frantic just like he was in the moment. He moved through the unfamiliar surroundings with surprising ease, like he had done this a million times already. Finally he made it down the long flight of steps, seeing the back of a chair and a mess of blue hair. The same mess of blue hair he saw just before he had gone unconscious. Without even turning around, the male sitting down spoke.

“You’re finally awake, you had quite a feeding. I thought I wouldn’t be able to gather enough bodies for you.”

Choso’s chest tightened and the unknown male stood from the chair he sat upon. “I should introduce myself, I’m Mahito, your creator.” Mahito took a few steps closer to Choso and with every step forward, Choso took a step back until he hit the nearest wall.

“What are you talking about? Creator? What is that supposed to mean?”

Mahito chuckled and in a flash he was face to face with Choso, he grabbed Choso’s hand and brought it to his neck. Choso’s eyes widened when he felt two bumps and he snatched his hand away. “What the fuck is that? Give me a mirror, now.”

Mahito shrugged and grabbed a handheld mirror, turning it so Choso could see himself in the small glass.

---------------------------

“I couldn’t recognize myself, blood stained my face and clothes and there were these two puncture marks on my neck, right at my jugular. If I was holding the mirror then it surely would have fallen to the ground. I was mortified and furious without really knowing the true extent of what this man did to me. I looked like a monster and I didn’t know if I wanted to scream, run, cry or end up doing all three but instead I just stood there, frozen once again. No word could form, my mouth went dry, I couldn’t do a thing. So he just spoke for me, explaining what he did to me and all I could really process was I was made into a killing machine, all to fill an appetite that would never be satiated. He told me that I fed off of 5 people before I passed out, I was in a frenzy. A gluttonous, blood-lust frenzy.” Choso adjusted his position in his seat, a small look of shame panning along his face before it went back to its usual expression. “I hated that I couldn’t remember a thing, I hated that I had killed people but the thing I hated most was the blue headed freak in front of me. I wanted to kill him on the spot but instead I just listened to him as he spoke.”

----------------------------

“You need to embrace this new life, Choso, you need to embrace this gift I have given you. You’re immortal! And so what if it just costs a few lives here and there?”

Choso scoffed and an expression of disgust graced his features, “I’m not killing people. I’m not embracing this bullshit you call a gift, I don’t want to live forever! I don’t want this.” Suddenly the weight of the word ‘immortality’ hit him. “What about my family? My plan was to grow old with them. I wanted to stay with them until I breathed my last breath.”

Mahito laughed and it made Choso grow furious. “This isn’t a fucking joke! What’s so funny?”

“You’re still so naive, it’s adorable. Your family will still be mortals, they’ll grow old and gray while you’ll look like you’re sipping from the fountain of youth on a daily basis. This is a gift, Choso. You won’t grow old, you won’t have to worry about the weakening of your body that comes with age, you won’t have to worry about your mind going feeble, you won’t have to worry about a single thing. It’s not bullshit, I have given you what other men would kill for. You should be thanking me, you should be praising me like I am your new god, since that is what I am. I have defied all odds known to mankind and now you will join me. So be a good boy and keep listening to me.” One of Mahito’s hands lifted and patted Choso’s cheek condescendingly, like he was petting a fucking dog. Choso pushed the blue haired male’s hand away, his eyes narrowing at him.

“Fuck you. I will never thank you, every single day I live like this will lead to nothing more than a growing pit of hatred. I will outwit you one day and I will kill you, only then would I be satisfied with what you have changed me into.”

Mahito laughed even harder and before Choso could process his movements, Mahito’s hand wrapped around Choso’s neck, squeezing down even tighter than before. “I could snap your neck, boy. You talk too much, that’s what the problem is with people your age. You’ll yap yap yap and then when someone reacts the way you least expect then you get that stupid saucer eyed look on your face. Go on then, try to break from this grasp and kill me.” After a few moments of squirming and trying to fight back Mahito scoffed and shook his head. “So, like I said before, keep your fucking mouth shut and let me speak. You will listen to every single word I say and that is all, if you have questions you will save them until I’m done.” With that he let go of Choso’s neck and moved back to the seat he was previously occupying.

Choso greedily sucked in air, he wanted to retort and say something clever but he knew anything but obeying Mahito would be futile. So, he just sat down across from him, relaxing against the fabric.

“So you can listen and obey, that’s good I’d hate to hurt you.” Mahito crossed one leg over the other and placed his hands on the arm of his chair. “You cannot go out during the day, the sun will be your worst enemy. If you go out during the day then you will burn, like a match to a flame. You can visit your family at night and you need to come back here before dawn. When you feed or have the desire to feed, you need to bring them back here so I can cremate the body, I’m not dealing with police over a few missing people. So now you’re probably wondering why I chose you, I’ll indulge you in that.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned close to Choso. “You’ve intrigued me, Choso. I’ve been alive for over 400 years and I’ve only been this intrigued by two others. Sadly, I had to get rid of them but I don’t think I’ll need to do that with you. You’re already vastly different than they were, so I’m sure you won’t face the same fate they met.”

----------------------------

“I didn’t need any clarification of what he meant by whatever fate they met. I knew that he killed them, it was just an ominous aura that filled the air. It sent a chill down my spine, the paralyzing agent of fear threatened to fill my nerves but I somehow found a way to push it aside. I was by Mahito’s side for close to one hundred years, he taught me everything I know now but I did go to visit my family at night, they were so surprised when they saw me for the first time since I turned. They thought I was dead.”

----------------------------

“Choso is home!” Yuuji’s high-pitched voice echoed through the small house. His little feet pat against the floor as he ran to his older brother, jumping into the dark haired male’s arms. The sound of more footsteps followed after, each of his siblings ran to hug him while their mother stood in the doorway. Once Choso pulled away from his siblings to look at her, the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes finally fell.

“Mom, don’t cry.” He walked over and pulled the frail woman to his chest, hugging her like that would be the last time he would be able to hold her so close. She shook her head and held onto him tightly, her sobs racked through her but were muffled by his chest.

“I thought you were dead. The police found Selene’s body and when we told them that you were with her they didn’t even bother to look for you. They just said we should buy a burial plot and bury an empty casket in your memory. What happened? Why were you gone for so long?”

His mother barraged him with questions but he couldn’t answer them, well not truthfully at least. Every question she asked was answered with an already prepared answer, it was like Mahito could read into the future and predict what she was going to ask him. Maybe this was the same procedure he went through with the two people he changed before. He spent the rest of the night holding his family close, enjoying the warmth of their bodies while trying to find something to distract him from the pounding in his head that matched their heartbeats. He could never feed off of his family but he didn’t know if this animalistic instinct within him would make him turn the people he loved most into prey.

Once they were sound asleep he escaped into the darkness of the night, making a silent promise to return every night to see them. He couldn’t leave them behind, he just couldn’t, they were his motivation to try to contain some form of his humanity.

----------------------------

“Within that year my mother died, she was sick but she didn’t tell any of us since she didn’t want us to worry. My siblings went into the care of my aunt, she was a wealthy woman and she took them in like they were own children. If angels existed then she would have been one of them. I watched my siblings grow up and when they grew older while I didn’t. Which led to suspicions and rumors. So, my visits lessened over the years but I still saw them. I viewed everything from the shadows, I saw all my siblings get married, I saw all the beautiful nieces and nephews they gave me. I only stayed close to Yuuji but I knew he was suspicious of my lack of aging. While he grew gray hairs I stayed with a headful of black hair, he grew wrinkles on his face and there was not a single blemish on mine, he never questioned me. With the joys of life there were also the pitfalls into the abyss. My sister died first, smallpox was the cause of her death. She was only 40, there was so much life ahead of her but it was taken away from her. Then it was my brother, her twin who died next. His cause of death was scarlet fever, he was only 55. Then came the day that I dreaded most, the day Yuuji died.”

He took in a deep breath and Kento looked up at him, over the rims of his glasses. “Take your time, I know this is going to be difficult for you. If you’d like we can take a break, you can gather yourself and then we’ll continue.”

Choso nodded and Kento stopped the recording. “Thank you Kento.”

“There’s no need to thank me, you’re a friend and I’m not going to force you to speak when you’re not ready.”

It was only a 10-minute break, giving Kento time to use the bathroom and refill his drink while Choso stood by one of the many bookshelves in the penthouse. He wasn’t looking for a book in particular, he just needed to try to distract himself momentarily. After the 10 minutes had passed, both males returned to their seats. Choso gave a curt nod to Kento to signal he was ready and the recording was started again.

“Yuuji died of old age, the bastard even died with a smile on his face. I was at his bedside the entire time, holding his hand. It killed me to see him like that, I should’ve been in his place, he should’ve been the one that was given the chance to see me get old. On his deathbed he finally asked what I did to keep looking young and I told him the truth. He just laughed it off and that was when he took his final breath. He died laughing, something he always did.” Choso lifted one of his hands to wipe at his eyes, Kento’s eyes widened slightly to see the tears that escaped his eyes weren’t like water but they were tears of blood. “That day was one of the days I cried the most. I held his body close to me and wailed like a baby, my heart had shattered. I was alone, I had no family, my nieces and nephews knew nothing about me. Even Mahito had left the day Yuuji died. I went back to the home we shared and I saw the note atop my coffin. After I had read it I ripped it to shreds so I cannot tell you the exact details. I believe that he had stated that he needed to move on, I believe he had found a lover or someone that intrigued him more than I did. The thing that’s odd is while I hated him, I missed his presence, I missed hearing his hearty laughter, I missed his little tantrums whenever he lost at a game of chess. I missed him. The anger and hatred turned into longing and even now I still think of him from time to time. I hope he’s okay, hopefully he’s still alive but if he’s not then may God be pleased with his soul. To pass the time I would just wander around at night and find the worst of the worst to feed upon, men who I knew were abusive to their family, drunkards that harassed women, whatever would make me feel better about killing.”

Choso checked the watch on his wrist and clasped his hands together. “Are you hungry? It’s getting pretty late and knowing you, I’m sure you’ve only had one meal today.”

Kento paused the tape again and nodded, “you actually cook? No offense but the last time you made a meal, you almost burned everything down.”

Both men chuckled and Choso shook his head, “there’s no need for me to cook or to hone in my cooking skills. There is a perk to living in a city like this one.” He stood and took out a handful of takeout menus, “here, take your pick and it’ll be my treat, for old time’s sake.”

After 30 minutes both men were sitting at Choso’s dining room table, in front of Kento sat his meal and in front of Choso sat a bowl of blood. “What’s going on in your life Kento? How’s your lady?”

Kento chuckled and held up his left hand, a wedding band on his ring finger. “We’re still in our honeymoon stage, you know, still lovey dovey, can’t keep our hands off each other, everything is just perfect. We got married almost 6 months ago, I would’ve invited you but it was in the middle of the day, I can’t imagine how difficult it would’ve been to explain why you’re burning up.”

Choso nodded and shook his head, sipping the blood off the spoon he held in his hand. “No worries, I’m glad to see you all settled down, happy. I wouldn’t wish for anything more for you Kento, you’re a good guy and I told you this when we first met 20 years ago, you deserve to be happy and have love in your life.”

The men continued to chat until they finished their meals, “okay, since we’re done eating, we could finish up the session for today. Unless you have anything else you want to say.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to end today’s session with just talking about Mahito. I want to talk about her, well if I were to say everything then we’d be here all month long but I want to talk about the first time I saw her.”

Kento nodded and stood up to throw his garbage away and both men went back to their original seats. “Whenever you’re ready.” Kento leaned forward and pressed record again before settling back.

“The year was 1899, I moved from my little town to one of the bigger cities that were closeby. At the time I was a tailor, when I was younger I learned how to sew and stitch things together from my mom and would often adjust my siblings' clothes so it just turned into a profession. A lot of the people that came into my little shop were wealthy and I was invited to one of the biggest celebrations in the city. It was a party to celebrate the end of the century and if only I knew then what I know now, that party would lead to another life changing moment.”

----------------------------

You sat in front of your mirror while your mother styled your hair. “Do I have to attend this party? It’s just another year, there’s nothing that special about it.” Your comment earned you a flick to your ear and a glare from your mother through the mirror.

“Don’t say things like that Y/N. As my daughter, you need to show face to this event and Satoru will be there.” You rolled your eyes and quickly lifted your hands to cover your ears when she went to flick them.

Satoru had been your friend since you two were babies and from that moment your parents tried to arrange a marriage between you two. You loved Satoru but only as a brother, plus his heart belonged to another, a young man that apprenticed under the local carpenter. Their relationship would be frowned upon by everyone so they had to see each other in secret. It pained you to see them keep their love hidden but there was nothing you could do.

“I know Satoru will be there but I’m not going there for him. I’m only going so you won’t rip my ears off.”

The hours flew by quickly and before you knew it your carriage pulled in front of the Astor’s home, a lavish mansion. Music poured through the open windows and doors and you could hear laughter erupting from the inside. You walked inside with your mother and she instantly parted from you once you two crossed the threshold of the mansion. You looked around and saw Satoru waving his arm, his lover standing next to him. Your heels clicked along the floor as you approached them and Satoru wrapped an arm around you. “Don’t look so pitiful already, you just got here. Put a smile on your face and enjoy the night! Who knows, you might find the perfect suitor.”

You rolled your eyes and jabbed your elbow into his ribs, making him whimper in pain. “I’m only here because my dear mother dragged me here. You sound just like her too, it makes me sick.”

Satoru’s eyes widened and his lover’s hand was placed gently on his shoulder. “You know she’s independent, I’d be surprised if she ever gets married.”

You looked over and narrowed your eyes at the dark haired male. “Shut it Suguru. Anyways, don’t you two have something to do? Like busying yourselves instead of bothering me?”

They laughed and after a few drinks they did exactly that. You leaned against the wall and watched as everyone danced the night away. You sipped the rest of the contents in the glass you had and looked around to see if there were any servants around.

“Looking for this?” You jumped at the voice and quickly turned to face who owned it. Your eyes scanned up his body and slightly widened when you made eye contact with him, a soft smile was on his lips and he held out one of the glasses in his hands. You set your empty glass on a table and you took it from him.

“Thank you Mr.—”

“Please just call me Choso, there’s no need for formalities.” You nodded and repeated his name before taking a sip of your drink. “I’m Y/N.”

You stuck your hand out to him and he took your hand in his and gingerly pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Heat bloomed in your face at the small gesture and you slowly pulled your hand away. He was insanely attractive, his dark hair was pushed back slightly but some hairs framed his face, his eyes were piercing like they were seeping into your soul, his lips were the perfect shade of reddish-pink, his cheekbones and jaw looked like they were chiseled by the gods. You had to force yourself to look away or you would’ve spent the rest of the night staring at him.

“Do you go to celebrations like these often?” He leaned in a bit to your ear as the crowd of people dancing grew louder and the closeness only flustered you further.

“Only because my mother drags me here, she’s the one in the red dress dancing with the governor.” You lifted your hand and pointed in the direction of your mother, dancing a bit too close to the governor. He chuckled and nodded. “Did you get dragged here by anyone?”

You looked up at him and your breath got caught in your throat at the closeness, you pressed yourself against the wall more but it didn’t change how close you two were. “No, I was invited by the hosts of the party. I’m their tailor so as a thanks I was invited.”

He looked down at you and another smile graced his lips, “sorry darling, I didn’t realize how close I was.” He pulled back a bit and you wanted to pull him even closer.

After a few minutes of small talk, he learned you had recently turned 23, had no siblings, and learned about your mother’s mission in finding a man for you.

“Well, do you think a dance would shut her up?”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit at his question and he took your hand in his, walking with you to the dance floor. “I’m asking for a dance.”

The heat rose to your cheeks and remained there as he pulled you close to him, one of his hands firmly grasped yours and the other was placed gingerly on your hip. He led you as the music played but it served as background noise, the pounding of your heart taking the mainstage in your eardrums. You had never felt this way with a man before but something about him was just alluring. He told you about some of his life but he still had the mysterious aura surrounding him. You wanted to know him, you wanted to spill all your secrets so you could make room for whatever secrets he held. The mysterious tailor began stitching your heart to his.

----------------------------

“I know the concept of falling in love at first sight might seem like a myth but when I saw her I felt our souls begin to intertwine in a dance of love. Call me cheesy but that’s how she makes me feel, even now after all these years this stupid lovesick smile finds its way on my face. I guess that’s the power of love. A power that supersedes anything and everything.”

----------------------------

As the song came to an end, he moved his hand up from your hip to the middle of your back and dipped you back. A light giggle fell from your lips and it was as if the invisible string between you two was pulled. He licked his lips and closed the distance between you two and placed his lips against yours. You easily melted in the kiss and you held onto him tighter. He pulled you back up while your lips were still interlocked and only then he broke the kiss. Every nerve in your body tingled and your heart thumped in your chest even harder. Your eyes bore into his and you found yourself leaning in for another kiss, which he granted.

His lips were soft and molded into yours as if they were meant to be there. He pulled you closer to him and only pulled away from you when there was an obnoxiously loud comment from a guest nearby, “get a room!” He chuckled and took one of your hands in his, “what do you say? I’m sure there’s a spare room around here.” Words failed to leave your throat and all you could do was nod. “Perfect.”

----------------------------

“I felt excited and nervous as we started ascending the stairs, like I was a fucking virgin again. Before her I had indulged in sins of the flesh, a sinful dance filled with heavy breaths and pants with beautiful women before I turned them into my meal but I had never felt nervous. With them it was just nature acting but with Y/N, I had this unknown pressure on my shoulders. Can you believe it? Someone like me, a man who has killed others, wass nervous about taking a girl to a private room. With every single step I took, it was like more butterflies filled my stomach, I couldn’t even imagine how she felt.”

----------------------------

You followed him up the stairs to the top floor, your body vibrated with excitement and nerves. Once you two were away from the steps and he started looking for an empty room. Just as he jiggled the fourth doorknob to check if it was occupied you saw the hosts of the party from the corner of your eye. Mr. Astor approached you two with a drunken smile on his face while Mrs. Astor giggled.

“You two looking for a room?”

Choso quickly looked over with wide eyes, ready to apologize for something he hasn’t even done yet but Mr. Astor beat him to it. “Don’t apologize, you’re young, you’re supposed to have fun at parties. Here,” he dug a key out of his pocket and placed it in your hand. “This is the key to the second biggest bedroom here, not even our family sleeps there when they come over. Enjoy yourselves and don’t worry about being loud.” He winked at you both and walked with Mrs. Astor down the stairs.

You looked down at the key in your hand then up at Choso, just as you were about to open your mouth you heard the footsteps approach you two again. Mrs. Astor rested her hand on your shoulder and pointed to the other end of the hall. “Sorry, James forgot to tell you where the room is. Just go down the hall and it’s at the end of the pathway. Have fun, the night is long!” She pressed a kiss to your cheek and went back down the stairs to her awaiting husband. Your attention went back to the key then back to Choso. You two stood there for a few moments and you broke the silence.

“Should we go?” He leaned in and cupped your face to pull you in for another kiss, it took your breath away in an instant and it gave you the answer you were searching for without him saying a word. He pulled away and started leading you down the hall, you clutched his hand tighter as the distance between you and the door grew shorter. The reality of what would happen once you two were inside the room hit you all at once. You were consumed by your thoughts and didn’t even realize you two were standing in front of the door.

“Y/N? I need the key to open the door.” You nodded and handed him the key, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. He quickly got the door unlocked and walked with you inside. You looked around the room while he locked the door and then felt his arms loosely wrap around your middle. “Talk to me, if you want to leave or if you want to change your mind just tell me and I’ll understand.”

You turned around in his hold and looked up at him, meeting his warm eyes and soft smile. You felt like you wanted to pour your heart to him, let him know every doubt that weighed on your mind about not just this situation but about everything. “I’ve never been intimate with someone before.” You expected him to be shocked, to pull himself away from you so he could find someone else more experienced but he just stood there, even holding you tighter.

“That’s okay, beautiful. I would love to be the first person you’re intimate with. Let’s just take this slow and then we can see what you’re most comfortable with doing. I only want you to be comfortable and I want you to enjoy this.” With that he leaned in closer to close the distance between you both and captured your lips in his. He moved slowly, as if he was trying to memorize the feeling of your lips against his. You two stood in the middle of the room, kissing, and his hands remained on your waist, not moving from their position. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him as your lips danced against each other. The thumping from the music reverberated through the floor you two stood on and he pulled back slightly, “let’s go to the bed, your feet must be hurting in those heels.”

It was only when he brought it up, was when you felt the slight ache in your feet. “Yes please.” He brought you to the bed and lifted your legs on his lap once you were both seated, his hands were gentle and his touches were light as he took off your shoes. He hooked his hand under each ankle and brought them up to his lips to gently press a kiss to your ankles. Your face heat up at the action, no one has ever been that gentle with you, not even the men that were trying to court you, but this stranger was treating you like porcelain. He glanced over at you and pulled you closer to him, making your legs dangle off his lap as he met you in another kiss. The kiss was slow again but you wanted more. You pressed yourself into him more, hoping that it would be enough for him but it wasn’t. He gently squeezed your waist as some sort of warning to slow you down. You did it again but were met with the same reaction. You tried it for the third time but this time he pulled away.

“I want more Choso, please give me more.”

He obliged and pulled you back in without a word, the kiss this time was hungrier, filled with desire and passion that made a fire burn within you. His tongue slid across your bottom lip and his hands moved to your hips, squeezing it a bit harder to make you gasp, taking advantage of it when you did. His tongue entered your mouth and licked along yours, it was a very foreign feeling but it made your mind cloudy nonetheless. His tongue continued to explore your mouth and your hands clutched at his shirt tightly, he was skilled with his mouth beyond belief and just kissing him made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

He broke the kiss so you two could catch your breath and one of his hands wandered up to the back of your corset. “May I take this off you? I can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be.” You nodded and he stood up to move behind you, his fingers carefully undid the knots and ties then tossed it to the side. He leaned in and kissed your neck, a breathy whimper fell from your lips as he kissed along the expanse of it and a breathy moan fell from your lips when you felt his teeth graze the sensitive skin. You were too blissed out to notice how sharp his canines became, how his eyes changed to a glowing burgundy showing his bloodlust. He moved back and tried to calm himself and had to think of what he could do to make sure you didn’t turn around.

----------------------------

“What could I have said if she turned around? ‘Sorry sweetheart but I’ve been alive for over a hundred years but still look 24. Still want to fuck?’ I didn’t know how she would’ve reacted and I know you’re wondering but no, I didn’t bite her. I’m surprised I was able to control myself so close to her pulse point but I found a way to restrain myself. Maybe it was some unspoken effect she had on me, maybe it was God finally on my side, who knows.”

----------------------------

He somehow evened his breathing and his fingers danced along the buttons of your dress. “You can take it off, please take it off.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, you couldn’t speak any louder than that in fear of sounding too desperate. He slowly undid each button and leaned in to kiss down your spine, it sent chills across your body. “You’re so beautiful, absolutely stunning.” Once he reached the last button he lifted his hands and slid the dress off your shoulders only to lower it so he could expose your chest. Your nipples hardened at the exposure and your hands instantly moved to cover yourself but he moved quicker. “Don’t hide from me, you’re too beautiful to be hidden.” He pressed a kiss to each shoulder then moved to sit in front of you.

His eyes widened as he saw your chest exposed to him and the longer he stared, the more you wanted to crawl into a hole. “Choso, please do something.” He chuckled and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” He tilted your chin up and leaned closer to kiss your neck while his hands moved to cup your breasts. His movements were slow and calculated, he kissed along your pulse and gently sucked on the skin while his fingers pinched at your nipples. You arched your back into his touch and rolled your head back. “Choso.” Your moans were breathless but he wanted to hear you more, he was greedy for any possible sounds you’d make.

He moved down and pressed chaste kisses along your collarbones then moved down your chest until he reached your breasts. He focused his attention on one while his fingers absentmindedly teased the other. His tongue was warm and wet against your skin as he licked along your breast, circling around your nipple before he latched on. He started with gentle sucks and your hands flew to the bed, gripping the sheets tightly between your fists to ground yourself. After a few minutes he switched breasts and his eyes were trained on you, watching how your eyes fluttered shut and how your mouth fell open.

It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and he needed more.

He unlatched from your breast and placed his hand on your shoulder, “lay back, I want to make you feel even better.” You nodded and leaned back until your head was against the arrangement of pillows. He pulled down your dress and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear to join your dress until any clothes were off your body. He tossed them to the side so they could join your corset and he laid down between your legs, gently spreading them to make space for his broad shoulders. His mouth watered at the sight of your slick folds, he licked his lips and leaned in close enough to gently blow air on your twitching clit.

“Ah, Choso.” He glanced up at you and a smile grew on his face, the more flustered you got the more beautiful you became to him. Like you were sculpted from God’s hands. He pressed a kiss to your clit and kept his eyes on you as his hands moved to hold your legs apart. “I don’t want you to worry about a thing, I’m here. If it’s too much, just grab my hair.” You nodded and took your bottom lip between your teeth, anticipating his next move. He flattened his tongue and licked along your slit, he repeated the actions a few times and he already felt drunk off your taste. “The sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted.” He groaned against you and spread your legs more.

You writhed with every flick of his tongue and every suckle on your clit. Your back arched off the bed and one of your hands gripped a handful of his hair while the other held onto the sheets. “Choso, it feels too good. You feel too good.” The feeling of him devouring you was better than anything you could imagine. He was beyond skilled and could easily make you crumble. He slowly dipped his tongue inside you while his nose nuzzled against your clit, your moans of his name turned into cries but all his senses were numb, the taste of you was all he could experience. He didn’t even realize you were cumming until he felt your walls contract around his tongue. He helped you ride out your orgasm and pulled back slowly, his face was coated in a mix of your cum and his saliva.

You panted and he brought his hand down to gently cup your sensitive pussy. “I know, I know it’s very intense. I just got so wrapped up in you I just couldn’t help myself. Are you okay?” You slowly lifted yourself up into an upright position and pulled him close, “I feel amazing, all thanks to you.” You pressed your lips against his and he brought his hands to cup your face, his thumbs caressing your cheeks and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You gasped against his lips as the taste of yourself flooded your tastebuds. He pulled away and smiled, “do you want to do more?”

“I want you to take my virginity, I want you to be my first.” He pulled you back to him and groaned against your lips, his cock throbbed in his slacks, dying to be let out of its constraints. This time you broke the kiss and peppered kisses along his jaw, your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt as you mimicked his actions from earlier. Every single button you opened was followed by a kiss along his skin, his broad chest was exposed to you and your hands dragged along his abdomen, tracing the defined muscles with your fingers, feeling how they twitched underneath your fingertips. Your hand continued to travel south until you reached his belt, you undid it slowly, giving him time to stop you if he wanted to but he just watched you. He shrugged his shirt off and tossed it to the side to join the pile of your clothes, you tossed his belt then moved to undo his slacks, your hand gently grazed his bulge and he let out a low groan. “Sorry.” You didn’t know what to say at the moment so an apology was what popped into your head first.

He lifted your chin with one of his hands to make eye contact with him and you were met with another one of his warm smiles, “don’t apologize, I enjoy feeling your hands on me. It’s like I’m being grazed with silk, how about I handle the rest of this?” You nodded and he stood, he shimmied off his pants and underwear and your eyes widened at the sight of him in front of you., in all his naked glory. He looked even more handsome than before when he was fully clothed, your breath hitched as your eyes scanned his body, following every bump and ridge until your eyes flickered to his throbbing dick. It easily was one of the largest things you’ve seen and it was just as pretty as Choso.

He stepped closer and leaned in close to you, “we can stop here if you’re nervous, we don’t have to continue. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings. I’m just glad I got to make you feel good.” He pecked your lips gently and once he pulled away, you reached your hand out to try to wrap your hand around his cock. “I want this, I want you Choso. Don’t you want me to feel good? Only you can do that.” His eyes widened and followed your hand, watching how you could barely wrap it around his thick length.

He kissed you again and positioned himself between your legs while he pushed you back against the bed. “I can’t say that this won’t hurt because it will, but I promise to do whatever I can to make sure it doesn’t hurt you too much. If you can’t handle it, let me know and I will stop.” You nodded and spread your legs for him while he spit on his hand and lubed up his cock with it. He glanced over at you as he moved to line up with your entrance and took one of your hands, interlocking your fingers together. “I’m here for you, just squeeze my hand okay? I want to take care of you.”

He moved the head of his cock through your folds to gather some of your wetness on it before he started pushing in. He sucked in a breath as his cock started infiltrating your walls, slowly deflowering you. He slowly pushed until the head of his cock was inside you and the hand that wasn’t held by yours moved down to rub your clit. He rubbed the bundle of nerves gently while his hips remained frozen, only when he noticed you weren’t so tense was when he started moving again.

He repeated the process going inch by inch until he was half way inside you. He moved his hand from your clit to caress your cheek and wipe away the tears that had pooled, “how are you feeling? Do you want me to stop?” Yes, it was painful but you couldn’t let him stop. You needed more, you needed to feel him fully. So you shook your head no. “I don’t want you to stop, I want you to keep going. Please keep going.”

His hand went from your cheek to your clit and started rubbing it again. He continued pushing in slowly until he bottomed out, a small whimper left your lips and he leaned down, his hand still holding yours tightly as he peppered kisses along your face, kissing your tears away each time his lips were near your eyes. “I promise that you won’t cry anymore, this will be the last time I’ll make tears fall from your eyes.”

He continued peppering kisses along your face while you adjusted to him and after a few minutes you were ready. “You can move now Choso. You can move your hips, I’m ready.” He nodded and pressed his lips against yours as he started with shallow thrusts. You whimpered against his lips and his fingers were pressed firmly against your clit. Your free hand moved up to grab his shoulder, lightly digging your nails into the skin which made him groan against your lips. He continued with shallow thrusts, not wanting to overwhelm you unless you were ready for more.

“Choso,” you mumbled against his lips before breaking the kiss, “you can go faster, please go faster.” The pain still lingered but as he started thrusting faster, it soon started to subside until it was completely replaced by pleasure. You thought his mouth was amazing but you didn't know how to describe the feeling of his cock massaging your walls, it was heavenly. His face was centimeters above yours and his dark locks acted as a curtain, covering your blissful expressions from the outside world and saving them for him. “You’re perfect, so beautiful and so perfect. You’re irresistible, thank you. Thank you for letting me be the first to see you like this.” He pressed his forehead against your and moved his hand from your clit to your ass, gripping the flesh tightly as he lifted your hips a little higher.

The slight change in the angle made you gasp and shut your eyes. Your nails dug into his shoulder more as he hit this spot inside you that made your toes curl. “Don’t stop, I feel the tightening in my stomach again! Please don’t stop.” Your words came out between bated breaths and moans of his name. “I’m not stopping beautiful, I’m not gonna stop, I promise.” He kept true to his word, continuing to thrust into you while your walls gripped him tighter and tighter. You held onto him tighter and cried out as the knot within you finally snapped, your eyes shut and your mouth fell open with cries of his name tumbling out. It was like time froze in the moment and his eyes scanned over your features, trying to print them into his brain. If he were to die then this would have to be the last thing he saw to properly die a happy man.

His hips moved on their own, driven by animalistic lust while his mind was distracted by how you looked underneath him. Strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty skin and wet plaps of his hips against yours filled the room. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” A guttural groan left him as his cock twitched inside you, he didn’t have enough time to pull out before his cum filled you, painting your insides white. He panted and rested his forehead against yours as he caught his breath, “that…was…perfect.” It was all you could say, any other thought or comment wouldn’t have been sufficient.

You had never dreamt of what it would be like to lose your virginity, you never dreamt of a man sweeping you off your feet but this moment, this man above you was what dreams were made of.

He lifted himself up a bit and slowly pulled out of you before laying beside you. “I didn’t want to crush you.” He chuckled and pulled you in to kiss you, it was a soft kiss, slow and filled with passion. Once it was broken you rested your head on his chest and felt your eyes grow heavy. Your hands were still interlocked and neither of you wanted to sever this tie. It didn’t take long for exhaustion to hit you and once Choso lifted his head to check on you, you were fast asleep. He chuckled and caressed your cheek, “get some rest sweet girl, may this new century be filled with something new for us.”

In the middle of the night Choso slipped from your grip and made his way to his home, to his coffin. He wanted to stay with you and had to fight his instinct to stay with you but he needed to survive. He needed to survive for you.

When you had awoken he was gone, you wandered around the room and found no trace of him. You would’ve thought your night with him was a dream if it wasn’t for the dull throbbing between your legs. As you went back to the bed you found a note on the nightstand that read:

“I’m sorry I had to leave you, it pained me so much to do so but I’d love to see you again. Meet me in the town square by the fountain today after sunset. You don’t need to wear specific attire for anything would look marvelous on you. I hope to see you then. — Choso”

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“I felt something that was foreign to me when I was with her. I was nervous, scared and excited all in one. I knew something was going to change in my life but I wasn’t sure what it would be just yet. I had just spent a few hours with her and I immediately wanted to spend my eternity with her. Sounds quite absurd, I know but my heart was speaking for me in the moment and it led me to her. Maybe I could thank Mahito for changing me, if he didn’t then I don’t think I would’ve met her and I wouldn’t be here today to reflect. I’d like to end our session today with that.”

Kento nodded and stopped the recording then chuckled as he stood and put the recording device away. “Nice way to finish the session, you getting laid.” The men chuckled and Kento adjusted his jacket then made his way to the door with Choso following behind. Once they made it to the door Kento turned with a playful smile on his face, “tell me this before I leave, did she meet you?”

Choso placed his hand around Kento and opened the front door, leading him out. “I’ll tell you in a few weeks, get home safe Kento.”

Kento sighed and walked out the door, “fine, I’ll see you in a few weeks. I’ll tell my wife you said hello.” Choso nodded and waved him off, once his blonde hair was out of sight he shut the door and walked back into the emptiness.

He tidied up a little then made his way to grab a book from the bookshelf, his fingers traced over the cover and a sad smile spread across his face. “This was your favorite book, always read it when we were together.” He held the book to his chest and walked into his bedroom, he looked at the painting by his bedside and wiped at his eyes then laid down, opening the book to where his bookmark was placed and read until he fell asleep.

taglist: @cyberparadis

#series: the cold hands of solitude #choso smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw:blood #tw:virginity #tw:death #tw:unprotected sex #tw:creampie

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