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idontcare4urmom · 9 months ago

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wrong || matt sturniolo

stepbrother!matt x fem!reader

summary: where your dad found a new woman on his life after one year of your mom's death,so you are forced to live all together after a lot of pressure,but what you didn't know yet is that her son is a total temping being that will send you over the edge..in many ways.

warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex,not proofread,porn with plot,dirty talk,eating out,pet-names,suggestive,scratching,tits sucking,etc.

a/n: my first language is not English,this sure has some grammar or other errors so i am sorry<3

."🎀".

"what the fuck you mean we have to move in with her?" you were basically shouting on your dad,and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the fact that he had moved on so far already or cause he didn't even cared to ask you if you acknowledge with it.

"i told you too many times that this is a very big and important step to me honey,besides her place is absolutely flawless,you will love it" his words only made you angrier,but you decided not to push it anymore since you knew deep down it would be waste of time,he had made his decision.

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the days passed quickly,and you found yourself holding your suitcase in front of a captivating building that would change a part of your life for many years,at least your dad did not lie,it was trully more than luxurious,so with a deep sigh you walked until the doorway with him,your anxious levels on high.

after a few knocks the door opened to reveal a surprisingly tall,appealing woman standing there,with brunette silky highlights and a pretty good enough shaped body,the sight made you furrow although you could tell why your father had fallen for her.you were caught off guard when you were the one she even pulled into an embrace first and seemed in general eager to meet you.

"oh sweetie your dad has told me many things about you,i am Lana,come in,come in" you didn't had much time to process because she was pushing your hand gently inside,your eyes widening as you took in the house with your eyes,it was for sure bringing vibes of a cozy,modern place.

you didn't want to be in your normal pissy mood for the reason that she was treating you politely for now,so you made a small comment "wow,the decoration is really nice"

"oh thank you,i want you to be comfortable and feel welcomed here,you can go check the guest room that will be your own,is down the hall,if you need any help just call out my name" you nodded a little and began making your way towards the apparently new space you will probably spend most of the day at.

but,without realizing a sudden unrecognized human figure appeared in front of you while making it's way to another room,making you leave a small yelp from your lips "who are you?"

the blye eyed boy raised an eyebrow once he heard the question,letting a sarcastic laugh as he spoke "very ironic for someone to ask when they are the one in my house" oh? well he had sure attitude for the few seconds you had met him. you were about to say something in response even so he continued, a sheepish grin forming on his lips when he examined your presence through his dark eyelashes "wait..you must be my stepsister"

"huh?" was the only word you could express,you were incredibly confused--who was he? "i am Lana's son, Matt,no one informed you about me?" it was like he was able to read your thoughts,it only creeped you out more.

"no..my father must forgot to announce your existence to me" the words snarked out of your tongue as you were trying hard to act sassy,but for a disguise,cause shit the more you were observeting him the more perfect he got.

he had the necessary amount of beard to sense in case he ever trailed kisses down your body,his blue orbs seemed like they could stare deep into your soul yet in a enjoyable way,and hell those fingers were too distracting for no reason,especially with those silver rings that were practically begging for attention.just any of his facial features were ideal--however you weren't supposed to fall for him,it would be wrong.

you snapped out of your thoughts when there was a sound of a familiar voice snapping across the end of the hall,approaching the both of you excitedly,even though she was addresing specifically to you "i see you guys met,sorry darlin' i forgot to have a quick chat with you about that i have a kid..anyway he may be a pain sometimes but i am sure you will get along well with him"

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two weeks have passed,and she was completely wrong.every day the urge of smashing a bottle on top of his head is only increasing,he would suddenly barg into your bedroom searching for his own belongings,asserting that he often lost things by accident since he is being here from time to time--why? his set-up pc is on your area for years now.

despite that,his own bedroom is just a few steps away from yours,you have been struggling with sleeping peacefully cause he would blast music on his speaker at 2-3 am,you are almost confirmed that he must be doing it on purpose--and it doesn't end here,there is worse.

you are aware of a guy having 'needs' so the occasional echo of moaning could be heard to you from the thin paper walls,you swear that it's music to your ears and you feel like your mind is sabotaging you.he is annoying,that though didn't stopped you from having a weird desire rising in you for him,a pang on your chest with guilt for possessing the most unholy fantasizes whenever he would roam around in just a pair of sweatpants.

with all this being said,you produced a baffling bond with Matt,signs showing that he is on the same page as you,which leads you to today.laying down on your bed with your phone on your hands,stressfully ignoring his presence a few meters away.him entirely concentrated on his screen computer playing--God knows what--video games,with the controller on his hands.the silense more than unbearable.

you were determined to prove to yourself that maybe you can spend some time with him,you took advantage of him not wearing any headphones and lightly tapped his shoulder,pointing towards the black console afterwards "can i try?" you anticipated for his response,silently hoping that he doesn't mind.

Matt was kind of surpised by your request,nevertheless he had finished the round so he nodded "umh..sure" he slid off from the gaming chair while handing you the controller,your fingers barely brushing with his yet enough to make your head spinning.

you rested your body on the mesh fabric as he sat on the bed,and with a glance of the buttons you were clueless of the task in hand,not having any idea on how to participate in the online game.luckily,he noticed the confused look written on your face so he came next to you and started to make a fast learning lesson,

he taught you how to jump,how to run,how to kill,and other features you require to have in case of a proper match.as he did so,you caught him taking a few glimpses of your chest--it's not like he could help it,your crop top was exposing a certain amount of your cleavage,making it hard for him to focus.

a devilish smile curled to your face when you noticed,feeling bold enough to adjust down the shirt such as leaving only your breasts covered--matt could feel his heart beat raising,the temperature of the room turning thick once he stopped talking.

"can you show me how to jump again? i don't think i get it" you spoke,a hint of suggestiveness leaking from your tone--and he didn't want more than just to devour you right there, your father and his mother had left for shopping,so you were both totally alone which sent shivers down your back,

the tension bloomed into a insufferable feeling between the two of you,causing your breath to hitch around your throat,especially when you felt his fingers starting to touch yours fully in attempt to answer your previous 'request'.a hushed gasp breaking out from you when there was a unexpected hand gesture tracing your thigh in a agonizingly pace--screw this.

with a smooth shift of your face and waist you palmed his cheeks,bringing his lips to yours into a fiery dance.he didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth,impatiently exploring your taste before nipping down your bottom lip,eliciting a moan from you that get's shallowed against him,

the sound you made vibrated through matt's whole body,landing directly straight to his core and he could feel his jeans growing tight around his crotch,he didn't ever remembered himself getting hard from just a making out session--he craved more,he needed more,and so did you.

his hands started travelling their way to your stomach,crawling upwards until he squeezed your nipples over the fabric of your top and reaching to lift it up, "is this okay?" you nodded desperately at the question,he didn't wasted time by taking it off over your head,unclasping with one motion your bra afterwards to shower your bare chest with open-mouthed kisses,

your hums of approval soon turned into whimpers when he wrapped his mouth on the flesh of your left breast,swirling his tongue around it while his hand pinched the other between his free fingers,he repeated his actions by giving the same treatment to your right one after.

with a loud pop he pulled away,slowly reaching under the gaming chair so he is on his knees,his eye pupils half-lidded and fluttering over your face before he yanks off your shorts with panties,exposing your already wet dripping pussy to his hungry gaze,

"fuck you are soaked,how long have you been dreaming this? have you been waiting for me to finally pleasure you sweetheart?" you could him mutter cooing through gritted teeth,licking at your thighs in a intractable speed as he itches towards the arching spot in between your legs,lavishing his attention there as he made a long stripe up on your clit,making you buck your hips against his face shamelessly,

your nails found his hair,gripping and tugging on it for support,dragging a hiss from his mouth as he began to lap on your juices like you were his last meal,you started riding his face while whining pathetically,the obsence resounds filling the room as he continued to satisfy you.

his index finger rubbed your entrance,letting you shaking for more and barely hearing his gagged whispers "you taste so fucking amazing,such an intoxicating cunt",your lower abdomen started quivering into the familiar knot,reminding you of your approaching release,making you clench uncontrollably around his mouth,

"come on,finish all over face baby" matt sneered out when he sucked on robs of your pre-cum, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape in the same time you swirled your digits on his roots so his head is forced to be still there,with a long pornographic moan you erupted,spurting thick,white jets that made your legs glistening.

after pulling away he swooped you into his arms,carrying you bridal-style on the mattress of the bed,him laying down firstly before grasping your sides stronly,helping you to be on top of him as he guided your hips so you can push against his clothed erection,the sensation maddening for the both of you.

your still sensitive heat grinded back and forth,feeling his cock poking under you so your hands progress to tug the zipper of his jeans down,sliding them down along with his boxers to his ankles in a way of exposing his throbbing tip,you usually didn't liked how dicks looked but matt's was different; a needy tenderness to have it deep inside you,he adjusted with ease the head down your folds,and with no doubt you sinked down on his length.

a unbidden squeal slipped from you as he grunted repeatedly,his grunts turned into loud groans of pure filthiness as soon as you started bouncing yourself,your tight walls squelching him, sending him closer to the edge even though it hadn't passed a minute of you riding him,his back arching forward which gave you the opportunity of scratching down the skin of his behind shoulders,

"such a good girl,fucking yourself on your stepbrother's cock, such a whore f'me" his words actually made you feel pitiful yet encouraging your movements to speed up their pace,his hips thrusting up to meet yours so he can pound into your hole frequently, "c-close" you panted out,your second orgasm increasing through you as your walls clinged around him,the actions driving matt insane "going to fill you up,do you want that? do you want me to cum inside you?"

you miserably sobbed in bliss and let a ''hphm'' of approval,before you knew it matt had busted,his climax exploding extremely hard into your pussy,following suit after him with your head throwed back and stopping after a minute so you can pull yourself out of him,both of you being a panting mess,

"that was incredible" "i am never letting you to even enter my room again"

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evelyn speaks!! thank you so much for 250 followers jixijcmjg,my last post with Matt got more than 800 notes likeee insane,thank you ALL for the support it means everything xoxo🤍🤍

tags! @writtensturn @pixiespax @verywonderlandpolice @itsnotmariahh @user9383738392 @monroesturnns @badussybumper @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @shadowthesim

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fandom #smut #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #sturniolo imagine #fanfic #fandom #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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huhmiya · 10 months ago

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CINEMA | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: you and chris went to the cinema to watch a new film that you both had been eagerly anticipating. he wanted to have a special time together, considering it a cinema date. however, once in the cinema, he became too aroused because of you, leading to him getting carried away and having to excuse himself with you to the bathroom, which resulted in missing most of the film.

warning: smut, fingering, swearing, pet names (ma, love, good girl, darling), use of y/n, public place, dominant chris, bathroom sex, needy chris, hair pulling, ass grabbing, p in v, unprotected sex.

a/n: not my photos, found on pinterest. not sure about this one tbh.

WORDS: 2.8k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

You and Chris have been eagerly waiting to watch a film at the cinema for the past few months. His identical brothers expressed interest in joining, but Chris preferred to have some alone time with you.

"What would you like?" he asked, who already ordered popcorn and a Pepsi for himself. He insisted on paying for your items, not letting you pay.

As he ordered what you wanted and handed you your items, his contagious smile made you smile back. "Thank you," you said, which caused him to smile a little more before grabbing his popcorn and Pepsi.

Walking into the movie theater together, he took your spare hand and led you to your seats, pulling you down next to him. As you settled down, he watched your movements, admiring the shape of your thighs as they spread out slightly due to you sat down. He adored your thighs.

"Would you like a hand?" he asked, eager to feel the touch of your skin. He cherished the sensation of your touch and was willing to do anything to maintain that connection, even if it meant giving up his YouTube career.

Ignoring the fact that you didn't actually need assistance, he was determined to help to you. As you reached for the snack you had mentioned wanting, he swiftly took them from you and placed them where you intended. "Really?" you muttered, to which he responded with a smile, revealing his teeth.

He rested his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed it, relishing the feel of your soft skin against his warm palm.

"I sometimes wonder how I managed to win you over," he whispered before planting a kiss on your cheek. When he noticed the movie had started, he shifted slightly to get more comfortable in his seat, while keeping his hand on your thigh still.

The movie started playing, capturing both of your attentions since you both had been eager to watch it ever since seeing the promising trailer.

His thumb gently caressed your upper thigh, inching closer to your intimate area, though he was unaware as his soul intention was to provide you comfort, which he achieved flawlessly.

His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you rather than the film for the past ten minutes, finding your profile captivating despite your self-perception. "Stop staring," you playfully scolded, glancing at your boyfriend who only smirked in response, refusing to divert his gaze from you.

"Your beauty mesmerizes me, darling. How can I not resist looking at you?" he whispered, stealing a few more glances before turning back to the movie.

You playfully rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, causing him to raise an eyebrow before returning his blue orbs at you.

He casually moved his hand from your thigh and brushed your hair away from your face, using it as an excuse to touch your skin even more.

Chris found himself looking at you once more than at the film you both had been eager to watch ever since hearing about it. "Okay, my beauty can't be that good," you teased, catching his stare again.

"Trust me, it is," Chris whispered, placing his hand back on your thigh. Though his hand was now closer to your warmth which is between your legs, you were wearing shorts and a fresh love shirt that Chris had given you earlier before you both headed out to see this movie.

As you both finally focused on the movie, he couldn't help but feel a stirring in his body, drawn in by your scent and the softness of your skin against his.

Quietly, he adjusted his shorts and boxers, subtly shifting in his seat to compose himself without drawing your attention to the growing intensity he was experiencing.

Despite feeling exposed in his vulnerability, he couldn't resist the desire for more.

Observing your engrossment in the film, he scanned the surroundings and noted the proximity of other moviegoers, ensuring that the slight thrill of the moment was contained within a safe distance. The other couple nearby though remained on the opposite side of the aisle, four rows behind you both.

"What are you looking at?" Your question caused him to turn his head towards you suddenly, his heart skipping a beat as he jumped slightly in surprise at your unexpected message.

"I was checking out the people around us, seeing how far away we are from everyone else," he explains, as his finger traces from your upper thigh to your shorts.

"I wanna pleasure you.. I'll make sure no one sees, but you must promise to stay quiet, okay?" His words were laced with desire. His speech made you surprised and confused due to how bold it was.

You trusted him, so you spoke, which made him smirk because those were the words he wanted to hear. "okay..."

He made sure no one was looking before taking off your shorts. He couldn't help but smile like a kid in a candy store. He loved when you were like this with him, especially when he was feeling aroused.

He pulled your shorts off, but only up to your knees, so if someone did happen to see, he could quickly pull them back up before security noticed or something.

He rubbed his thumb against your thong, making you widen your eyes, which caused him to quietly chuckle so it wasn’t attracting anyone attention, except from you.

He felt your wetness seep through, which prompted him to whisper in your ear, "Didn't know you needed me that badly," as he bit your earlobe and then kissed your cheek.

He discreetly kept watch to see no one was looking, as he had promised not to let anyone catch a glimpse. His hand moved to the waistband of your thong.

As he began to pull them down, revealing your bare pussy that he adored, his fingers gently caressed your folds before teasingly slipping one finger inside, aware of your desire for more.

Feeling himself grow harder because of you, he set aside his own needs to focus on pleasuring you.

You attempted to stifle any sounds to avoid drawing attention, trying to concentrate on the movie, even though the pleasure he was giving you was incredible.

Unexpectedly, he added two more fingers, intending to use only two but ending up with three inside you. He skillfully curled them once he located your g-spot.

His arousal evident but yet he refrained from touching himself or adjusting in his boxers, solely focused on satisfying you.

He watched as you bit your lip and closed your eyes in pleasure while he pleasured you with his fingers. He increased the pace, his thumb teasing your sensitive spot, causing you to squirm with delight, a reaction he enjoyed, knowing he was satisfying you.

"Close?" he whispered, his intense blue eyes focused on you, observing how your innocence transformed into desire as he brought you to climax with his familiar touch.

You refrained from speaking, both aware that a moan could escape your lips and draw unwanted attention in the cinema. Instead, you simply nodded in response.

He noticed your body tense around his fingers, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as you reached your peak.

Thankfully, you managed to stifle any loud sounds when you coated his fingers, although it was a challenge to contain your pleasure. You breathed heavily, releasing your lip from where you had bitten it hard enough to draw blood.

He withdrew his fingers, licking them clean before helping you adjust your clothing, ensuring that no one noticed the intimate moment you shared in the cinema.

“Are you okay, love?" He asked, wanting to ensure your well-being, not wanting you to feel irritated later by what had happened, especially if someone had seen, even though no one knew or anything similar.

"No, I'm not," you replied playfully. Chris froze for a moment before realizing it was in jest. He smiled and playfully twirled a few strands of your hair.

He found himself needing to touch himself even more, still feeling a throbbing pain. He had completely forgotten about the film and his desire earlier.

"y/n," he said your name quietly, savoring the sound of it. What made it even better for him was that his brother would sometimes express annoyance when you weren't shopping with them or somewhere else, chris always mentioned how you would love something or recounting a story about you.

You looked at him and smiled, your focus now on him rather than the film. You didn't know what was happening in the movie as most of the time you were being pleasured by him.

He knew he couldn’t come out with it directly, so he began by asking a few questions in order to lead up to the main reason. “Do you know what's happening in the movie, because I'm a bit lost?”

His needs were escalating, and he reached out to hold your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Not really,” you reply honestly. Even though both of you have wanted to watch the movie, he was relieved by your answer right now.

“Should we just skip it? I can get tickets for us to see it tomorrow or something,” he offers. As you look at him, he uses his spare hand to discreetly touch himself through his shorts and boxers, trying to stifle his moans. You hadn’t notice that yet.

“I don’t mind, do you?” you inquire. He remains silent for a moment, trying to contain himself as he struggles with the urge to climax while discreetly touching himself.

He removes his hand with hesitation and made his other hand stop holding yours. Instead he grabs your wrist, guiding it to his throbbing member.

“I need you. I need to be close to you, please ma.” He whispered, his eyes locked on yours in the dark movie theater, illuminated only by the flickering light of the movie screen.

His hands wandered over your thighs. "Please," he pleaded softly. You knew you couldn't, even though you wanted to. If you engaged in intimacy here, someone would surely see you two and get security.

"We can't. We'll get caught," you said, causing him to roll his eyes and quickly suggest, "Shall we go to the bathroom?" He was willing to beg on his knees if necessary.

He was consumed by his desire for you, feeling a relentless need that left him in torment. He understood his craving and it was to be close to you, to be inside you.

You were about to say yes, but he didn’t wait any longer. He grabbed your arm and stood up, leading you out of the theater, possibly heading to the restroom.

“I can't wait any longer, I need you so badly. I feel like I'm going crazy,” he said, taking you to the men's bathroom where no one else was present. He entered a stall and started kissing you passionately.

He pressed his knee against the area between your legs, his kisses were intense yet filled with love. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as you reciprocated.

Moaning, he squeezed your ass through your shorts. “I'm so lucky to have you, I have no complaints,” he said after pulling away and moving to kiss your neck, marking you as his own.

You removed his shorts, letting them fall to the ground, but neither of you cared as desire took over. He was aroused in his boxers.

He then helped you remove your shirt, as he also discarded his own.

You playfully tease him, calling him 'so needy,' but he just rolls his eyes with a small chuckle and takes off your bra, casually dropping it on the stall floor.

He gazes at your breasts and begins to caress your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you. “You love that ma?” he whispers. “mhm”

He kisses your lips and undresses you, leaving you naked while he remains in boxers.

Your hands explore his body until you remove his boxers, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. “I need you y/n” he confesses.

Your touch has him on the verge of climaxing, but he desires to be inside you, savoring the sound of your sweet moans blending with the rhythm of your bodies together.

"I need you too," your voice was like music to his ears, and he didn't hesitate; his pre-cum was already leaking from his pink tip.

He turned you around, admiring your beloved ass for various reasons: the way it gently bounced as you walked, when he took you from behind, when he rested his head on your back while you lay on your stomach.

Brushing your hair aside, he kissed your shoulder before entering you, causing you to moan. "Be loud for me, my love, no one here," he urged.

He started to thrust inside you, causing a blend of pain and pleasure that made you moan, but he was whispering things to make you forget about the pain.

His size initially caused discomfort as he stretched you, but as you got more used to it and he stimulated your G-spot, the pain gradually faded, making room for heightened pleasure.

He continued to thrust in and out of you, kissing your neck and jawline, pulling your hair to reach your sensitive spots.

The sound of your bodies coming together echoed in the empty cinema restroom where you were alone, intensifying the intimate moment.

As he moaned at the tightness, his hands explored your body, focusing on your breasts by pinching your nipples.

"I'm so close to climaxing when your so tight around me," he whispered. He heard the bathroom door creek so he was alerting you to the presence of someone else entering the restroom. He quickly covered your mouth and urged you to be silent.

Despite the interruption, he didn't stop, instead becoming more intense and faster, making it challenging for you to contain your moans.

He listened to the sound of someone washing their hands and then leaving. “Good girl for staying quiet,” he whispered.

He tugged your hair to make you look at him while he was having sex with you from behind. His blue eyes locked on yours. “Keep looking at me like that, and I'll have to punish you,” he said firmly before releasing your hair and gripping your hip.

As he was reaching climax, you could sense it by the way his large member twitched. He thrust hard into you, causing you to moan loudly.

It felt like he was discovering new pleasure spots you never knew existed. “Chris.. I'm close,” you gasped.

“Me too, darling,” he murmured. With that, he climaxed inside you, continuing to move inside you vigorously until you also reached orgasm.

As he finished, his hot release mixed with yours, dripping out of you onto the bathroom stall floor.

“fuck ma, I love you,” he said, pulling out with a pop and then adjusting your position to see your face.

You looked adorable in his eyes, with sweat glistening and a lazy smile as you were catching your breath, mirroring his own. He gently wiped the mascara off your cheek and kissed your lips softly, briefly pausing before diving into a passionate make-out session.

“I love you more,” you whispered after he pull away but he embraced you, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other. He rested his head on your shoulder, his fingers entwined in your hair.

“Impossible,” he murmured softly before pulling away to clean you up with a tissue, help you put your clothes back on, and then get dressed himself.

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggested, both of you eager to leave and head back to his place.

He took your hand and led you out of the men's bathroom before anyone could see. His thumb caressed your palm as he exited the cinema with you.

“I promise to buy another ticket... maybe tomorrow? Who knows, we might have another round,” he smirked, placing his hand on your hip instead of holding hands.

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berberriescorner · 5 months ago

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The Sweetest Chaos

Characters: Dad(Husband)!Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Rio and the reader navigate the delightful chaos of family life while juggling six kids, a doctor's appointment, and grocery shopping. Through tender moments and playful banter, the couple's love shines amidst the everyday challenges of parenting, showcasing the beautiful messiness of their unconventional family.

Warnings: Mild language. Family dynamics and parenting themes. Situations involving children and chaos😆. Light humor and romantic moments🥰. Some references to past relationships/blended family dynamics. In other words, nothing serious😆.

Author’s Note: So, it’s ya girl’s birthday tomorrow and I wanted to treat my babies. Let’s celebrate with some much-needed Dad(Husband)!Rio. We’ll treat this as if it’s a birthday cake and I’m sharing the deliciousness with my lovelies, my babies🥰💜. I missed you all🥹🫶🏾. Also, no pressure, but to know me, is to know I love books. If anyone is interested in sending your girl some birthday book mail–hit my inbox and I’ll share my Amazon Bookish Wishlist with you🤓📖. Word Count: 1,100+.

Music Inspo💜:

The minivan, lovingly nicknamed "The Chaos Chariot" by Rio himself, rumbled to a stop outside Dr. Patel's office. Six sets of eyes, ranging from wide and curious to sleepily blinking, stared back at you. Rio, the perfect picture of calm and confidence, swaggered to the driver's side. His eyes met yours and deep chocolate orbs accompanied by a sexy smirk admired you for a moment. He watched you look down shyly and squirm, as you pretended to rummage through your purse. He loved that even after years of being together, he still gave you butterflies.

He chuckled lightly and opened your door, greeting you in that sexy rasp, “Hey, mama.” Rio palmed your thigh, giving your lips a light peck. “Let me get that for you,” he gestured toward the diaper bag and matching mommy satchel. You handed him both, eyes sparkling with a hint of laughter as he slung them onto his shoulder.

He grabbed your hand helping you down from the minivan. Rio bent at the waist to connect his lips with yours once more, pulling back you felt his breath fan over your lips as he spoke, “Go get checked in. I got my little goons, mama.” Still wrapped up in his scent and husky tone, you slowly nodded and turned to head inside. Your husband took a deep breath, preparing himself for the madness. His fingers clutched the back door handle, as he slid it open, "Alright, mis bebes, mi vida, let's get this done."

Bless her eternally optimistic soul, Dr. Patel greeted you with a bright smile that could rival the sleekness and shine of Rio's meticulously maintained Mercedes (parked discreetly a few blocks away). Wrangling six kids into the waiting room was an art form you mastered over the years. Eight-year-old Amina, currently sporting a head of questionable purple hair dye courtesy of her older sister Marianna, who didn’t ask permission and in turn, was grounded until further notice, was a whirlwind of boundless energy. Thankfully, baby Luca, still blissfully oblivious to the world, slept peacefully in your carrier.

While you negotiated a temporary peace treaty between Amina and the boy who "stole" London’s toy car (spoiler alert, it was under the couch), Rio watched Marcus, his son from a previous relationship. Unlike the teenage angst you sometimes expected, Marcus was a quiet, sweet, and helpful teenager. Today, he sat patiently reading a book, occasionally glancing up to offer a reassuring smile to his younger siblings.

Dr. Patel, used to the organized crazy of your family, efficiently ushered you in one by one. Marcus, ever the responsible one, volunteered to go first with Ravi, distracting the rambunctious toddler with a game of peek-a-boo while you wrestled London out of her shoes. Rio, his usual relaxed self, watched the interaction with a hint of pride softening his features. Later, during Luca's checkup, Rio's stoicism melted away as the doctor cooed over his chubby cheeks. A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a sight rarely seen outside your home. Each child took their turn being looked over, some receiving mandatory vaccinations. Every child was showered in praise. You were fairly certain Dr. Patel had a soft spot for all of your children. Who could resist those sweet little faces?

Grocery shopping was a logistical nightmare but you were a seasoned veteran. Your meticulously planned list, organized by category in your notes app, was your weapon against the grocery store's mayhem. Rio, channeling his inner strategist, divided the aisles and troops.

"Baby, that’s way too many boxes of cereal," you insisted, raising an eyebrow at Rio as he tossed them into the cart with a wink.

"Just keeping the snack acquisition specialist happy, darlin’," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent a delicious shiver down your spine despite the fluorescent lighting and screaming children. Marianna, ever-observant, wrinkled her nose.

"Eww, gross! Do you two have to be so lovey in public?" she complained.

Rio chuckled a deep sound that made your heart skip a beat. "Just making sure your mama knows she's appreciated, princess," he countered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. Amina along with London, never ones to miss out on the action, squealed and demanded a forehead kiss too. He obliged, and you rolled your eyes playfully at the interaction.

Marianna, the self-proclaimed "snack-quisition specialist," continued to navigate the chip aisle with laser focus. Marcus, ever the team player, tackled the produce section with military precision, carefully selecting the ripest fruits and vegetables. Meanwhile, you kept a watchful eye on Ravi, who toddled around like a gleeful wrecking ball, occasionally attempting to "accidentally" knock over displays with a mischievous giggle.

The checkout line stretched into eternity. Baby Luca, your newest addition, decided this was the perfect moment to unleash his lungs. The symphony of cries, bickering over candy bars, and Rio's muttered threats to ditch the entire cart made heads turn. “Mama, you’re worn out. Y’all can just go wait in the car. I’ll bring the groceries.” Just as you were about to melt into a puddle of exhaustion and accept, a warm hand reached for yours. It was Marcus, his usual shy smile replaced with a determined glint.

"Here you go, baby bro," he said, handing a bottle to Luca, who instantly quieted down. Your eyes filled with thanks and a bit of shock. Marcus shrugged his shoulders and continued, “I packed an extra bottle just in case. You looked busy running around, getting us all together. I figured it wouldn’t hurt, ma.” You smiled, fighting back tears. Marcus’ attention shifted toward Rio who was making a beeline for Ravi, who had slipped through his legs and tried to wander off. The eldest child chuckled, shuffling over to his dad, who was battling the wiggling toddler. “Here, Pops,” he assisted, handing a juice box to Ravi. With juice in his grasp, he stopped fighting his father and was mesmerized by the colorful packaging. A wave of warmth washed over you. These moments, fleeting and unexpected, were the glue that held your crazy, chaotic family together.

With the shopping complete, you piled back into the minivan, the air thick with the sweet smell of victory (and possibly a rogue diaper). Rio insisted on taking half the gang in his vehicle. “Maybe you can get a little peace, mama. I’m leaving the two oldest and baby Luca with you. I’ll take the ones that be wilding the most,” he insisted, as he referred to the middle children.

“They get it from you,” you joked, unable to stifle a giggle.

As Rio weaved through traffic, the setting sun casting an orange glow on his face, he knew this wasn’t the life he imagined. But each of your faces popped into his mind and his heart warmed with a mix of love and joy.” In the quiet moments between grocery meltdowns and doctor's appointments, there was a love so fierce, so unexpected, it warmed even the most guarded corners of Rio's heart.

Hope you enjoyed it my sweet, beautiful lovelies. Please be sure to reblog and comment💜. Oh yeah and…

😆😂🤣😁.

Tagging some of my lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @percosim @thirtysomethinganduncensored @ravennaortiz @amorestevens @abcdestinyyyy @jannavaire @novaniskye @nobodygetsza @bisexuallyattractivebitch @1andonlytashae @rio-reid-whoreee @lovedlover @sunshine-flower @realhotgurlshit @thebumbqueen @blowmymbackout @tashawar @captainwithoutmakingitlove @kinkiicoils @theegoddessofmelanin @beachyserasims @tbmotw @wroteitbutneverwatchedit @speckldsimblr @prettyyybrownroundd @onherereading @undevidedattentionsblog @starrynite7114

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

Note

omg stop a cap mactavish drabble where they're caught 'n he's gotta keep the reader calm would feed my soul

—Listen To My Voice

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞

“Jus’ keep your eyes open and listen to my voice, eh?” The heavy Scottish drawl snaps you back into focus, your head pounding awfully and pain ricocheting up and down your limbs. It’s a stiff and unyielding order. “C’mon now, Sergeant.”

Coughing, you hack up splatters of blood onto your cargos—hands and arms tied down with rough rope that skins you every time you shift.

“Fuck,” you mutter, blinking rapidly as the footsteps walk away from your holding cell and disappear with the slam of a far-off door.

The Captain ahead of you grunts, his hard blue eyes sliding down the wreckage of your uniform; the open wounds and torn fingernails. He doesn’t look much better, truth be told. Your captors had taken pleasure in making you watch the other get brutalized—the vile rage in your eyes yet the inability to do anything.

It was mental torture as well as physical.

“Oversight ought to know we’re gone,” Soap slides out smoothly, tilting his mohawked head to the side to study the room in casual sweeps, as if not bloodied and broken. “—they’ll be sendin’ out recon teams to scout the area in little under a day. Standard protocol.”

His voice trails, seeing your gaze locked onto the door of the cell, pupils nothing but tiny dots in your burst veins of the once white sclera. Blue finds the way your body shakes, and the man’s large fingers twitch along the arm of his chair.

In the back of his throat, he lets off a rumble and resets his stubbed jaw; the scar along his left eye shifting with his expression.

“Sergeant,” your face twitches, but you don’t look at him. Inside your chest, your rattling lungs can nearly be heard aloud.

Captain MacTavish’s lips tighten. “Didn’t I tell you to listen? Pipe up! This is important.”

Your mind dances between hysterics and the numb oblivion of shock. While Soap had years to adhere to the idea of bare torture—even going through it before—you had no such luck. Experienced with weaponry, yes, but One-Four-One had only taken you on with the idea that you could become better than you already were.

You’d never gone through an actual interrogation beyond training.

Fast flinching eyes dart to your superior, chest heaving and adrenaline coating your expression. Blood drips to the floor.

Soap grinds his teeth and sighs through his nose.

She won’t last like this, he tells himself—blunt and honest. He’d told Price it was a bad idea to let you tag along, and without the reassurance from his fellow, he would have straight-out denied you coming. Too inexperienced.

This was exactly what he had been worried about.

But, hell, if that fear in your eyes didn’t make his stomach knot; a heavy rage at the image of your broken skin as all he could do was watch. But it was a silent kind of fury. Weighted with the knowledge of revenge.

While the man hated dogs, he sure acted like a loyal one.

“One day,” the Captain tells you—hardened; inflexible. His orbs are like hard steel and his stiff body like rock. “You can take one more day. Just need to focus on me…Copy? I don’t want your eyes to leave me. Not through any of it.”

You push through your haze, staring into his eyes with the vile stench of fear in the air. It was human nature to not want to be harmed. To dread pain and suffering in all senses.

This man seemed apart from that.

The Captain grunts, harsher now, “Copy?”

“I-I,” you stutter, lashes fluttering. “I copy, Sir.”

“Relay.” He barks, watching you closely.

“One day.” Answering immediately, you clear your throat and stifle your whimper of agony—a few of your ribs are broken. “I can make it one more day.”

“Good.” Soap’s accent makes the words clipped and true. Taken as law. “Nothin’ll happen that won’t be repaid. Keep that close, it’ll help.”

“How many times have you been through this?” Talking helped with the nerves, your focus leaving the sounds in the distant hallways and the loud voices wafting in the vents. The room was cold; you shiver and grimace as your body moved.

“Too many.” Soap huffs, pulling at his restraints with a heavy hand and growling under his breath when nothing happens. “Comes with the territory, you’ll get used to it.”

You lick your bloodied lips and feel the cuts in them. “...Is that a good or a bad thing, Sir?”

His lips twitch into a low smirk, shooting you a sly narrowing of his lids. “Well, I’d say that’s up to you now, isn’t it?”

In the grimness and the barbarity, you huff what can be described as a dead woman’s laugh.

The Captain, still trying to find a loose area of the rope, grits his teeth and utters, “There’ll be no deaths here ‘cept the ones outside this cell, eh? Like I said—focus. When I tell you something, I don’t care how hard it is, you’ll be listenin’ to me. Got that?”

Footsteps sound up again from beyond, and you tense, eyes flinching wider. Soap grunts out an order and you keep your feral gaze locked on his. Blue eyes bore into you, flaying their meaning deep into your body like you’re made of clay. The uptick in your pulse makes you shake wildly.

“Keep those eyes right on me. Nothing’s goin' on that’ll kill you, aye?” The door turns and the unlocking of the barrier snaps like electricity up your spine. You want to run, but you know you can’t.

And through it all, you stare straight into Captain MacTavish’s frozen eyes—his strong brow pulled in with authority. He nods his approval with a quick jerk of his head. When the door opens, you can’t help but fear he’s lying.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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child0feden · 8 months ago

Text

DISGUSTING KIND OF LOVE

pelle “ dead ” ohlin x reader

- general dating headcanons for pelle!

such a talented soul… there is only a tiny mention of his suicide but much more mention of his self harm! it would be kind of hard to make this without mentioning that unfortunately <3

- view my metal masterlist here

reading music recommendations: disgusting kind of love by old funeral - what did you see by cemeteries

- let me be honest, you probably are not majorly fond of øystein or really any of the other members of mayhem!

✩ no matter how untrue and more complicated it really is, you would just absolutely hate how he seems to encourage pelle to self harm way too much on stage and almost doesn’t even try to help him after the concert ends…

- you have heated arguments with øystein about him seeming like an uncaring piece of shit a lot, usually whilst pelle just stands off to the side, staying completely silent and not wanting to get in between you two, not wanting to possibly just make things worse

✩ again, it is a very complicated situation and you most likely just feel a such a major protectiveness over pelle that it blocks out your ability to see things fully, blocks out your ability to see how complicated it all is with the band and how they handle his self harming tendencies

- it really just blocks out your ability to see that øystein and the other band members did care, at least for the most part, they just were not the best at showing it sometimes

✩ you likely absolutely refuse to call pelle “ dead ”

- the nickname just makes you upset and almost sick because pelle is certainly not dead to you, you know better than anyone that he has a personality, he has interests, he is not dead yet… so he is and always will be just pelle to you

✩ since to you it seems like almost no one in the band actually gives a damn about pelle and his health, you are usually the one waiting for him backstage with antiseptic wound wipes and bandages after an obviously eventful mayhem concert…

- of course, you have begged pelle many times to stop hurting himself so frequently and so deeply on stage but he just does not listen, it is in part just who he is and seemingly being egged on by the other band members and fans in the crowd certainly does not help the situation

✩ you give up after asking him to stop too many times, eventually just accepting that this is who he is, at least for now, and always just do your best to fix him up afterwards so that he never has to go to the hospital or lose too much blood

- i cannot see pelle being super sexually active with you, it is not that he does not find you attractive because he absolutely does, he finds you to be the most beautiful thing person he has ever seen and you look almost angelic to him, but he is just too malnourished all the time and you probably do not want to take away the small amount of energy he does have…

✩ the only times you guys do have sex is only when pelle initiates it, usually letting you know he feels like fucking by getting especially grabby with you, way more touchy than usual and staring at you until you feel his big blue orbs almost burning into you before you ask him what he wants

- pelle really likes to draw you, he has a whole sketchbook reserved just for his drawings of you!

✩ he never lets you see it though, he only lets you pose for the drawings sometimes but usually even the drawings are completely candid with you being unaware he is even watching and drawing you, unaware that his curious eyes are studying your every flaw and feature

- i can actually see pelle being pretty romantic in a strange way! he is definitely not your usual romantic type but he definitely actually tries a whole lot

✩ usually by gift giving! he will approach you with his back slightly slouched and head hanging low before showing you his hand which holds some kind of animal bone! well, you hope it is an animal bone, anyways…

- you always thank him before giving him a soft kiss on his pale cheek and he just nods his head before wandering off again with rosy red blushing cheeks or sitting down next to you and watching you

✩ usually you make the bones into pretty necklaces or little bracelets, wearing them proudly, thankful for his gift even if others might call it creepy or weird

- whenever pelle sees you wearing the necklace or bracelet, it always brings the tiniest but most genuine smile to his face! it makes him feel so appreciated and loved

✩ pelle is not super into pda, he is pretty shy and he just really likes to keep some things reserved for just the two of you, special for just the two of you

- the most at peace you ever see pelle are the rare times he actually sleeps…

✩ you like to admire him as he sleeps, slowly running a finger across his nose bone and gently brushing your fingers through his long blonde hair whilst being mindful of any small tangles, wishing you could just take away all of his troubles in life

- you really like taking pictures with and of pelle because i feel like deep down, as much as you hate thinking about it, you know there is a possibility he will not always be with you so you like to collect as many sweet memories in pictures as you can, just in case the worst comes to be…

✩ it is kind of rare but sometimes, just sometimes pelle will flash that big open mouthed smile at the camera for you, though most of the time it is just a small grin or a completely blank but intrigued face

- pelle really likes to write letters to you, he feels like he is not great at expressing his love and need for you through speaking and physical touch so he will often write it all in a letter and give it to you, pouring so much emotion into the paper through the ink of his pen

✩ you absolutely keep all of the meaningful love letters in a little lock box under your shared bed, pelle does not know about that though…

- if you are a night owl like him, which i feel like you kind of have to be, at least sometimes, in order to date him, you guys go on a whole lot of walks through the forest at night

✩ it helps calm the jumbled mess in his mind and you notice that, you see that, so whenever he is especially down and not looking too great, you always offer to take a walk with him…

- pelle does not talk much on these walks and neither do you but it is not an awkward silence, it is more so the peaceful kind, a calm and comfortable silence as the surrounding trees blow in the gentle wind

✩ you only ever speak up to point out any animal bones you see buried in the leaves which pelle promptly bends down to pick up and store away in the pocket of his tattered jeans, mumbling an almost unintelligible “ thank you ”

- those late night walks become some of your best memories with him! memories of peace and serenity, love and care <3

#pelle ohlin x reader #dead x reader #mayhem x reader #mayhem headcanons #pelle ohlin #dead #mayhem #dating headcanons #headcanons

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saekkas · 2 years ago

Text

gojo satoru's day always starts with a cup of coffee and ends with those stupidly chewy strawberry mochi he can't get enough of. in the unpredictable life of a jujutsu sorcerer, he rarely gets to choose how he spends his days. it's a blessing enough that he gets to stick to his routine, no matter how boring it may seem to people.

lately, he's lost track of time. the mornings and nights blur into one, his thoughts hazy as if someone's filled his brain with cotton and insists on shaking his head non-stop.

as of today, he chooses to blame you for that fact.

"have i ever told you how pretty you look in your uniform?"

from the day he met you, satoru realizes that you've made him irrevocably yours. you make him disregard all rationality, melting any and every thought he has into a puddle of goo under his feet.

and every single time, you do it with such a sweet smile on your lips. like the way you're doing now.

"yes, you have." it's airy, the way you chuckle, the sound sweet and low in satoru's ear as if you're keeping what he said a secret from others. "you've told me plenty of time already."

"yeah?" he breaths out, almost breathless in the way he sighs out the word. "how about today? have i told you today?"

satoru's eyes have always been the gate to his soul— so bright and full of life, the whole ocean and seven seas put into orbs for him alone to possess.

"you have." you watch, enraptured, as they glow a startlingly clear blue. you hold the center of his attention, the full weight of his six eyes peering down at you. "you've told me multiple times actually, gojo."

and yet, what you've come to realize with startling clarity, is how his eyes soften at the edges when he's staring at you. as if he's looking at the one who's planted all the stars in the night sky just for him.

"it's satoru," he tsks after breaking out of his own stupor. satoru's cheeks redden, both enraptured and embarrassed at himself for staring so blatantly. "satoru. how many time have i told you to call me that?"

"multiple times too," you giggle, shaking your head at his adamance of using his first name. "i still don't think we're close enough to be on a first name basis. don't you?"

satoru gasps, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. he looks at you in mock hurt, his expression twisted into a pout that highlights his pretty features.

"and here i was, thinking that we were the best of friends." the way he says it makes it seem as if you've betrayed him— as if you've given the last piece of mochi in the whole world to his biggest enemy. "i'm hurt. i don't think i'll ever survive this pain."

you snort, patting his shoulder in response. "so sorry. anything i can do to make it up to you?"

"i'd tell you to smile more often," he answers without missing a beat, the pout on his face already turning into a boyish grin. "you're so pretty when you smile but maybe you shouldn't."

you blink, taking in his smug expression with a quirked eyebrow. you watch the way he lowers his glasses, staying still when he pushes them onto your head with gentle fingers.

you know better than to fall for his tricks. "why's that? do you like my scowl better?"

"not at all," he giggles, his hand making contact with your face, moving to cup your cheek. he's always been like this, touchy and sweet in a way he isn't with other people. "i'd like to personally reserve it for me. i don't like sharing with other people."

you don't move, not when he takes his glasses from your head, nor when he moves to kiss your cheek. all you know is that your expression has automatically shifted into a lovestruck grin, one that perfectly mirrors his.

it's a shame really, how satoru's always failed to realize that your sweetest of smiles and giggles are reserved just for him. even if you make it seem like they aren't.

"i'll pick you up tonight if you still want to make it up to me!" he calls over his shoulder, already moving away from you towards the direction of his office.

satoru is nothing but a cheeky bastard— he knows the effect he has on people, especially when he winks, sending a flying kiss your way. "wear something pretty and remember! that smile is reserved only for me. for satoru!"

"i'll make sure to dress the prettiest i can. make sure you're not late! i'll be counting the hours, satoru."

you can only laugh when the strongest trips over his own feet, gaping like a fish out of water from his spot across the field.

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yourejinx · 2 years ago

Text

Undeniable Bonds.

Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, sad, ugly thoughts.

word count: 3583.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry I’m so late with this. I still don’t know if I like it, but hopefully it isn’t that bad. I know it still is a lot of context, but I promise I’m getting somewhere.

CHAPTER TWO.

“CASSIAN!” — Nesta’s warning roar reached my ears and everything seemed to stop. I turned around dragging my sword with me and gutting the Hybern soldier in one go.

I scanned the area where Cassian’s party was fighting in the skies, then towards the older Archeron sister on the ground next to Amren. Something throbbed inside my veins in warning, as if something hideous had come to life. It took me a heartbeat to understand. The Cauldron. It was going to blast, and Nesta had known where it was aimed at.

The Ilyrians had their shields up, Rhys had blasted his magic across the field and Cassian —gods above— Cassian was already racing towards Nesta, and out of the Cauldrons range. Still, something kept pushing, urging me to move. Danger, Danger, Danger it chanted. It hit me a moment later, and all my alarms went off. Where was Azriel?

Amidst the blinding light and unbearably heat of the blast that followed, I almost missed the faint blue glow trying and failing to contain the blow. There, just behind the ranks, Azriel’s focus was solely in holding that shield up, trying to spare someone, anyone. I could only watch in horror as one of those abhorred gray-skinned creatures approached him fast, claws ready to cut through skin and bone. It was going to behead him.

I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream like Nesta had to let him know. But my voice failed me, my throat so sore that only a pathetic strangled whisper managed to escape my trembling lips; “No.”

I cursed the mother, the gods and fate itself for not making me a winged creature.

It was impossible for him to have heard it through this distance, and yet —somehow— as if it had slapped him across the face, he turned towards me. His eyes found mine through ash and gore and despair, and I couldn’t let myself think twice before winnowing right at his back, atop the damned beast aiming for his head. I couldn’t bother with strategy at this point, I just angled my blade against that misshaped chest and pushed to get it through its heart. The creature thrashed and fought fangs and claws to get me off, turning us around in the sky as we plummeted down towards certain death. It was enough, I told myself as the ground inched closer to us. It was enough to get it away from Azriel.

I braced myself for the impact, my eyes closed shut and my arms gave up as the creature finally stopped moving. But my body never touched the ground.

Rough, desperate hands were gripping my legs and under my arms, snatching me from the Attor’s grip and up to the skies again. I dared a look at his face, he was forcing his still healing wings far too much but he didn’t seem to care. Hazel orbs were already staring at me. Gaping at me. And I felt it too, the golden string stretching between our souls. Mates, Azriel was my mate.

“You…” Azriel choked on his words. Eyes wide.

“Later.” I promised, still shaken by the feeling of him. Of his very essence entwining with mine.

But the war was still raging under our feet. Later never came.

—----------------------------------------------------------

It had been terrible timing for the bond to snap then. With all that was going on, Amren turning into a living raging flame then vanishing, the Cauldron and the world falling apart…Rhys dying —fucking dying on us — only to come back later.

We didn't speak about it, Azriel and I. Didn't bother to acknowledge it as time passed and we fell back into routine. The adrenaline of the war worn out.

It didn't matter anyways, I realized coming back to present time, for he had hated it even then. So I shut it down, and never dared to talk it into existence.

My mate, the person destined for me, despised me in every way he could. It had to be the saddest joke of them all.

But he had a right, after all, who would love an unworthy monstrous thing like myself?

I pushed the little bakery's door open, walking straight to Rhysand's favorite sweets and buying an entire box of them.

"You're not his fucking sister!", Azriel's words still rang loudly in my head. I had to think carefully how to bring the subject up to Rhys, my decision to leave this court. Because even if I wanted to deny it, some part of what the Shadowsinger had said resonated with me. I didn't deserve Rhys, didn't deserve any of them.

It was getting late already, the sun starting its descent behind the mountains casting Velaris in a warm orange glow. Feyre spotted me first through the open window of their shared home and waved at me to come in. Rhys was just a few feet behind her, holding baby Nyx close to his chest. They looked so happy, if not albeit a bit tired due to the still new parenting dynamic. A smile cut its way through my lips at the scene.

"Y/N, back already?" The High Lady smiled warmly at me. I returned the gesture.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to Rhys about something." I said approaching them and placing a kiss atop Nyx's raven hair. I waved the box of sweets in front of Rhysand's nose. "Has Azriel showed up?"

"No, why?" He asked, snatching the box from my hands with a childish grin and handling the babe to his mate.

I waved a hand in dismissal. He motioned for me to follow him into his office and out to the open balcony overviewing the river.

"What 's going on?"

"Well, we— I didn't found anything that could track back to the missing fae,"

"I sense there's a but somewhere in there.." He said, cocking an eyebrow.

"But…it felt wrong. There was something strange going on. I'm sorry I don't have any proof to offer you, it was a waste of time."

He frowned. "It could happen, we weren't certain about it. We'll keep looking, you’re going to catch them." Rhys opened the box, throwing some sweets into his mouth and then offered me some. “You’re not here just for the mission, are you? I’m guessing either this is some kind of bribe or you’re trying to soften the blow.”

I gave him a half smile, bracing my hands on the railing. His own smile faltered for a moment and concern latched onto his features. “I should brace myself for the blow then,” he commented, resting his back on the railing next to me and searching for my face.

“It’s not that…” I murmured, still not looking directly at him. “You know I love you, right?”

“If you’re going to confess now, please remember my mate is next door” he joked.

“Ass.” I nudged in the ribs with an elbow. Rhys chuckled to himself.

“I love you too, idiot. What 's going on?”

I let out a small sigh. How was I supposed to approach the subject? I have never been good with words and there was so much to tell.

“I mean it, Rhys. You’re my family, you and Feyre, Mor, Cass, Amren…all of you. I’ve never had that, you know? a true family” I glanced at him at last. “I’m sorry if in my excitement I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have crossed. I know I’m not your sister, and I will never be her, nor do I intend to occupy her place in your heart. I just… never knew how much I wanted to belong somewhere until I met you guys.”

He frowned deeply. His whole demeanor was serious now.

“Where is this coming from Y/N? Of course you’re not my sister, she’s been gone for a long time. But you still are my family, you’re my sister in every way that counts except for blood. I don’t understand what my dead sister has to do with anything.”

I shook my head, already regretting my choice of words.

“You give me way more than what I deserve… I think it’s time for me to really earn my living.”

“Let me see if I understand correctly. You think you don’t deserve your life here, your home, your job, your friends. Because that should’ve belonged to my sister? Who told you that?”

My eyes shut and I breathed deeply through my nose. I didn’t mean to offend him. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but I can't help feeling like I'm living off of you, of your money.”

“You’re not using my money, you’re using your money. The one you’ve earned by putting your life on the line every single time for us, whenever I asked. You’re not my charity project, you’re my family, and I owe you just as much. So let me ask you again, who put such ideas in your head?”

“No one Rhys. I had that thought in the back of my mind for a while now and when an opportunity had presented itself I just…I don’t want to be a burden.”

Rhys relaxed his shoulders a bit, and put a hand atop my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“A couple of months ago Hellion offered me a position in his court and told me to think about it, it is mine if I want it. I could finally have my own place, and I would still visit you here”

“I can’t tell you not to take it if that’s what you really want, what would make you happy. But don’t do it for the wrong reasons. Everything you have here, you’ve earned it. The only thing I’m offering you for free is my friendship, I don’t think you’re a replacement for my sister, you are your own person and we all love you for you. So please, get that ridiculous idea that you’re a burden out of your thick skull.” He pinched my cheek affectionately, my throat felt tight. “ And as for Hellion… think about it thoroughly, at least stay until Solstice, would you do that for me?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. His eyes were always so gentle on me, so understanding.

“Alright.” I mused.

Soft knocks sounded from behind us and Feyre poked her head through the half-open door. “Sorry to interrupt you guys but Azriel is here, says it's urgent.”

Rhys cut a glance at me as if to make sure I was fine before he let the Shadowsinger in. I knew that Rhys suspected about us, about the mating bond, but I never told him and he never asked. My relationship with Azriel has always been strained and Rhysand could absolutely tell it was hurting me, but as long as I wouldn’t bring it up he’d stay out of it. And I appreciated that.

Feyre nodded behind her and fully opened the door to let the Shadowsinger inside. His posture was rigid, wings tucked tight as his eyes fell upon me. “You were right.” He uttered. “I found something back in Spring.”

I willed my face into neutrality, there was no way in Hell I would let him see how much his words had affected me. “What is it?”

"I found a caravan of females of different ages set to be transported through the river. I broke them free but there was no sign of their captors, however I think there’s something you should see.” Azriel’s face was stoic as ever, revealing nothing about the mission nor our previous conflict.

I turned to Rhysand once more, “We should go check on them, but Rhys we can’t leave them there. They will strike again, I’m sure of it, and we can’t count on Tamlin either. No one has heard a word of him in months.”

“We can’t exactly bring an entire court to The Shelter Y/N, those females, they have families. Despite Tamlin being missing, there are still rules and accords with the other courts. It won’t look good. The other High Lords won’t look the other way if we just trespass the borders and start to bring people into our court or if we leave sentinels in there, they will take it as an act of defiance, of me trying to expand these lands and my rule on them.” He had an apologetic look on his face, ever the wise High Lord considering every possible outcome.

I knew he was right and I would not get mad at him. Still, it frustrated me to no end.

I chewed on my bottom lip trying to come up with a solution, at least until we found the slavers.

“What if I talked to Eris?” I offered. “Maybe we could station a small patrol near the border with Autumn under his discretion, maybe he could put some of his own sentinels on guard duty.”

Azriel snorted. “You trust Eris?”

“It is better than nothing Azriel, what do you propose?” I asked, eyebrows high and tone bitter.

The Shadowsinger opened his mouth to reply but Rhys's voice cut him off before we got engaged in another fight yet again. "Let me deal with Eris. You go talk to them, learn whatever you can about what happened to them and report back. You two are stuck there until I sort it out with Eris. Lay low, no one can know of your presence other than the survivors. Be extremely careful."

We both nodded our agreement, not daring another word. I moved past Azriel to the door and he followed closely behind. I could feel his body heat almost enveloping me, he was way too close to be casual.

"If you're worried about what I told Rhysand, I left your name out of it. I took full responsibility for it.”

“Why?” He side-glanced at me. I shrugged.

“Because I’m tired of explaining myself. If you want to get into an argument with me then go ahead, I won’t bother with it. You can go tell him whatever you please.”

I couldn’t be bothered to try and hide the tiredness of my body and mind out of my face. Two whole centuries of this, insulting each other, hurting each other, it was enough. I’ll handle anything he decides to throw at me but I’m done fighting back.

Azriel, to my surprise, didn’t say anything as we walked into the open night.

The night sky had already settled around the city, covering it with its black and dark blue mantle of flickering stars. In my two hundred years of life I had never encountered a more beautiful sight than the one Velaris offered. The Day Court surely will be a huge change, away from everything, from my family and friends, from my favorite cafés and galleries, from the whisper of the quiet darkness that had accompanied me my whole life.

I tore my eyes away from it, ready to winnow; I could feel Azriel’s stare fixed on my face.

“I’ll fly us there.” He offered so low it could have been dragged away with the wind.

“There’s no need for that.”

“You’re tired. Better save some energy, just in case.”

I turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed, and could have mistaken the look on his eyes for concern if I didn’t know him any better. “What did you find there, Azriel?”

Hazel orbs moved to my left wrist, swift, smooth; I wrapped my hand around it almost unconsciously, and brought my arm to my chest, hiding it from his view.

“The females in the caravan, they have the same mark you have on your skin.”

The small crow that had been burned and scarred onto my wrist, branded. My back went rigid. It couldn’t be who I was thinking, that monster died that horrible night two centuries ago. It had to be an imitator, some kind of joke.

The shadowsinger placed a tentative hand on my elbow and brought me out of my own head. I yanked it back from his touch. “Let's go, I want to see it.” Was my only reply.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Azriel.

Your whole demeanor had changed the moment he brought up that hideous mark, a reminder of the haunting past. He didn’t have the full story but given your reaction, and the looks on those fae he had freed, it hadn’t been a personal choice.

Azriel felt bad for being an asshole to you earlier, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter an apology. He hadn’t always been like this, but it was already too late to take it back. You irritated him to no end, the way your scent would flow up his nose and never leave him, day and night it would invade his senses, clouding his mind with that unique water lilies and lemon zest smell of yours. And that big full mouth? always ready to retort to him. Nobody had ever possessed such an innate ability to get under his skin as easily as you did. It made him so mad he could tear at his own hair in frustration.

Still, deep down, Azriel knew that most of his anger wasn't of your doing, not on purpose at least. He would find the tiniest of excuses to keep you out and away from him, not being ready to face the full truth as to why you affected him so much. You always did. It was easier to just dislike you.

But in those extremely rare moments when you would let a sliver of a true emotion show around him, his resolve trembled. And the tightness he felt in his chest was much harder to ignore.

You were silent the whole flight to the Spring Court, something akin to pain haunted your eyes. He didn’t dare speak about it, but something in his stomach twisted at that look.

For the past hour or so he watched you silently as you talked to the females, inspecting them for injuries aside from the branding, asking them about their captors and being extremely patient with them. A little girl even came up to you, eyelashes wet with tears and begged you to find her mother. Azriel caught the way your face twisted into a grim, even if to the little girl you looked confident enough that you were gonna reunite her with her mother. She had clung to you for the rest of the night until she felt asleep.

You had a heart, and a kind soul beyond his comprehension, even if he wanted to convince himself that you didn't. It was a lie. He used to tell himself that you were nothing but Hewn City filth, that no one good could ever come out of that place and you would betray them all eventually. Yet there was Mor. And yet, you were here.

Mor, he hadn't thought about her in a while, not like he used to. He'd like to think the lovely doe-eyed female back home was somehow responsible for it...but he wouldn't dare dig into it much deeper. Somehow his mind always found a way to trick him, bringing thoughts about that other person he couldn't stand. It was not alright to compare.

Azriel snapped back to reality as you moved to approach him, leaving the little girl under the care of an elderly villager. Even in her slumber, she made grabby hands at your receding figure.

"She seemed kinda reluctant in letting you go." He observed. The barely there ghost of a smile tugged at your lips but it was short lived and maybe, just maybe, he could have imagined it. "I didn't know you had a soft spot for children."

You sighed softly, tiredly, as you walked beside him to your guarding spot for the night. He did notice the dark circles under your eyes, the way you tried and failed to keep your shoulders from sagging, and was about to offer to just take the guard himself when you spoke.

"Children are very rare, and precious. It is a blessing to be able to connect with them." Your voice, albeit quiet, was charged with emotion. He thought that was as far as the conversation would go, but you swallowed and after a couple of heartbeats in silence, you spoke again. "I had a little sister once. She reminded me of her."

Maybe it was the rawness and vulnerability of the current situation at hand that had you sharing a little bit with him. Maybe you were so exhausted that you couldn't stop the thoughts from spilling from your lips. Whatever it was, it also compelled him to listen.

"What happened?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

You gave him the saddest, tight lip smile he ever saw you wear and something tugged at his very core. "We were born at the wrong place."

He had judged you wrong, took you up for a cruel, dark creature, never once stopping to think about what you may have endured while you still lived at the Court of Nightmares. Azriel knew it was only a reflection of what he thought of himself.

He didn’t dare ask about the mark on your wrist, not yet. It felt too personal, and he doubted you would have shared it with him anyways.

"Listen about earlier..." He started an apology. Voice a little gruff.

But you cut him out, pinning him with an icy stare, took up the spot on the nearby tree, and didn't talk to him again.

Tag list:

@valeridarkness @hannzoaks @fall-myriad @goradgirl @cmay25

@feiwelinchen @katherine-2007 @anniebannanie0315 @cosmic-whispers @acotarxx

Hope I didn’t forget anyone. Thank you for reading :)

#azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #Azriel #azriel x you #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar series #acotar #rhys acotar #feysand #acowar

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seriinwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Caught between the Good and the Bad 2

Pairing: Gojō Satoru x f!Reader (18+) Plot: Reader gets into trouble for her little escapades with Getō Suguru. We all know what kind of punishment Gojō prefers. Tags: Smut, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Orgasm Denial, Spanking, Edging, literally (Y/N)‘s brain out Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Student-Teacher Relationship (is of age!)

"I'm only going to ask you one more time," Gojō warned you, "where have you been?"

"I'm telling the truth," you groaned in annoyance.

"Alright then," Gojō turned around with a click of his tongue, "come on,"

"Where are we going?"

"The principal," Gojō replied.

You gulped at his dry response as it heavily contrasted his usual self. You furrowed your brows but followed suit, keeping quiet. Once you've reached the principal's, Gojō's eyes lingered on your back while you got questioned.

"I injured myself while I exorcised that curse, and then I passed out," you explained, "I don't really remember anything until I woke up,"

"Where did you wake up," Principal Yaga asked, cocking a brow.

"On the roof," you replied, "I don't know how I got up there,"

"I thought the whole building got searched," Yaga looked questioningly at Gojō.

"It did," he shrugged, "but she wasn't there,"

"We'll have to investigate this matter," Yaga sighed, and you felt your heart pound against your chest.

"Don't worry," Gojō grinned at the principal, "I'm already on it,"

"Alright," the principal nodded, "(Y/N) if you remember anything, let us know,"

"I will," you promised.

You followed Gojō out of the room before the latter turned around.

"Freshen up and get that checked by Shōko," he pointed to your forehead, "then I want you to meet me in the classroom,"

You nodded in reply before rushing off. About an hour and a half later, you were in front of the classroom. The door was wide open, and Gojō sat by the desk. He was leaned back in his chair, arms resting behind his head while his feet were thrown onto the desk.

"(Y/N)," his head lulled to the side as he noticed your presence, "took you long enough,"

"Sorry," you muttered.

"Come on in," he commanded, "and close the door,"

You did as you were told and approached him slowly, avoiding his gaze. You looked at everything but him, much to his dismay. Gojō dragged his feet off the desk, letting out a long sigh as he stood up, towering over your much smaller frame, "now, would you finally tell me the truth?"

"But I told you already," you retorted.

"Nu-uh, cut that shit," he wiggled his finger in front of your face, "you're the worst liar,"

"Sensei, I-," you turned your face away, earning yourself a displeased look.

"I can sense it, his presence," his voice dropped, "what happened?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said.

"(Y/N)," his voice dropped, which made a shiver run down your spine, "drop the act,"

A defeated sigh spilled over your lips as you lowered your gaze, fidgeting with the sleeves of your uniform, "he appeared there after I was done with the mission,"

"Why didn't you call me," Gojō questioned confusedly.

"Come on, he would've killed me right then and there," you finally looked at him.

"I would've been there in an instant, "he argued as he drew his brows together.

"And he could've killed me in an instant, "you said, to which Gojō rolled his eyes in reply.

"I passed out at one point," you continued, "when I woke up, I didn't recognize where I was,"

"But Suguru brought me back to his place and took care of my injury," you explained. And oh, how it made his blood boil to hear you casually address him.

Gojō's hand came up, and he slipped his eye mask off. His piercing blue orbs were staring into your soul. That's how it felt to you, at least, "what happened there?"

Once again, you averted your gaze, fixing it on the ground. Gojō took a step closer before he grabbed your chin. He tilted your head forcefully, making you look up at him and exposing the bruised spots on your neck. His eyes widened as they fixed on your skin's blue and purple marks. His jaw clenched, feeling the rage within himself grow.

"Did he force himself onto you," he asked.

But he wasn't stupid. He knew you. He didn't need an answer to know the truth. He could look right through you.

"Oh, (Y/N)," with his other hand, he pulled down the collar of your uniform, "you better tell me exactly what happened,"

"I was being nice up until now," his gaze found yours, "but I'm about to lose my temper,"

"Spit it out. What happened?"

There was no way of freeing yourself from his iron grip, and you were sure he'd bruise your chin with the way his fingers dug into your skin. If you weren't about to get killed by Gojō, you'd surely die out of pure embarrassment.

"It just happened," you muttered, voice barely audible.

"This doesn't just happen,"

"As I said, it just happened," you retorted, "we kissed, and one thing led to another,"

"(Y/N)," he let out a strained laugh, letting go of your chin, "I'm speechless,"

"Do you know what you did," he asked, looking at you as if you were a special-grade curse, "that was so stupid!"

"Do you understand how much trouble you could get into," his voice got louder, "you know how the higher-ups are,"

"I know," you mumbled, "I'm sorry,"

"I guess I'll have to punish you for that," Gojō looked at you through half-lidded eyes.

He grabbed your upper arm, striding towards the desk.

"W-what are you doing," you asked, eyes wide as you looked at his face.

"If you like to whore around like that," he started, "I'll have my way with you as well,"

Gojō pushed you down, bending you over his desk until your chest met the wooden surface. Your wrists were pinned against your lower back, his large hand keeping them in place. Gojō had a devilish smirk as he placed his other hand on your thigh. The way you jerked ever so lightly didn't go unnoticed by him.

A shaky breath escaped your lips as his hand slowly slid up, raking your skirt.

"You better take your punishment like a good girl," he looked down at you.

"W-what," you looked over your shoulder, the heat within yourself spreading, even though you couldn't quite grasp the happenings.

Gojō clicked his tongue in displeasure as his eyes fixed on the bruises on your butt, "is there a place he didn't mark?"

"Guess I'll just have to leave darker bruises," he chuckled as his hand came down forcefully. The little yelp that spilled over your lips went straight to his cock. Each spank was harder, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

The outline of his hand was visible, the stinging sensation adding to your pleasure. His left hand moved between your thighs, teasingly stroking your slit through the thin fabric of your underwear. Yet, you couldn't help but enjoy your punishment, which the latter surely noticed.

"(Y/N), are you enjoying this," he asked, "you're soaking through your little panties,"

"G-Gojō-Sensei," You whined.

"Satoru," he corrected you, wanting to hear you say his name.

"S-satoru," moaned shakily.

His long body bent over yours, lips brushing against your ear, "my name sounds so good when you moan it like that,"

He teased your clothed sex, feeling your arousal seep through your underwear. You were trying to grind against his hand as you needed more friction. However, Gojō stopped his ministrations, "you better stop with that,"

You did as you were told in hopes of getting what you wanted.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your trembling legs, where they pooled around your ankle. He plopped onto his chair, scooting closer before he spread your legs further apart. His head dipped between your thighs, and he let his tongue slide over your wet cunt.

"Fu-uck," You moaned.

Gojō's tongue was lapping up your juices, earning an approving hum at your sweet taste. You tried your best to steady yourself, but the way his tongue was working on your sex was unbearable.

"C-Close," you mumbled, mind already hazy.

Instead of getting pushed over the edge, you were met by a sudden absence between your legs. Gojō pulled away, watching your hips grind pathetically against sweet nothing in search of friction. He repeated his ministrations, riling you up and getting you close only to edge you.

"What the fuck," you looked over your shoulders only to find the white-haired male with a sly expression.

"You don't really think I'll let you cum," he cocked a brow, "do you?"

"Please," You begged, needing to find release, "I can't take this,"

"Oh, but we only just started, "he threw his head back in amusement, his lips tugged into a smirk, "how many times was that now? Three or four?"

"Please," you whined, cursing him for the way he was teasing you.

"(Y/N)," his voice dropped, "I wasn't joking when I told you that this is your punishment,"

Gojō stood up, one of his hands snaking around your thigh and moving between your legs. He started to tease your clit slowly, earning lewd sounds from you.

"That's what you get for being such a whore," he clicked his tongue as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, "letting someone like him fuck you? Seriously (Y/N), didn't I teach you better?"

He pushed two of his digits into you while he rubbed your clit with his thumb, "fuck, you're wet,"

Gojō grabbed a fistful of your hair before he pulled you up until your back was flush against his broad chest. All the while, his fingers were still working on your dripping cunt. His hand soon moved to your neck, fingers wrapping around it. You turned your head, locking eyes with the white-haired male before he leaned closer. Your lips clashed together, Gojō forcing his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You were squirming, feeling yourself once again getting closer to your edge. You could feel his bulge press against your lower back, which had you biting your lip in anticipation.

"You're dripping wet," he breathed against your ear, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. You gasped as his teeth raked over your shoulder, biting into your soft flesh to mark his territory.

"S-Satoru," You breathed, feeling yourself get to the edge once again.

But, as expected, he stopped his ministrations, letting you fall down against his desk as inaudible words were spilling over your lips. You were overstimulated, unable to take any more of his teasing.

Gojō manhandled you, turning you around. A soft thud sound was heard as your back hit against the desk. His eyes raked over your body, watching your chest heave with each breath.

His hand came up to cup your cheek before he turned your face towards him, "I want you to look at me,"

His lips found yours while he undid your uniform, pushing your jacket over your shoulders. He groaned against your lips as he felt your hard nips beneath your white cotton tee.

"No bra? Lucky me," he chuckled before he removed your shirt, hands cupping your breasts, fingers rolling your nips as you moaned against his lips. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against his bopping bulge, but he quickly stopped your movements.

"Now, what do you think you're doing," he questioned as he stood back up, towering over you.

"Please, stop the teasing," you said, throwing your head back in frustration.

He smirked at you while he undid his belt, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down just enough to free his aching hard cock. You gulped at the sight of it. It was bigger than you could've ever imagined.

Gojō's hands found their way to the back of your knees, pulling you to the edge of the desk in one swift motion. He pumped his cock a couple of times before he positioned his flushed tip at your entrance. He spread the bead of precum on your slit, dipping his hot tip between your folds, making sure to stroke your clit with each movement.

"Hah, please," you breathed as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Please, what," he asked.

He loved the sight in front of him. The begging puppy eyes, those rosy cheeks, the way your baby hairs clung to your glistening skin, and all because of him. He could've cum right then and there.

"S-stop teasing," you whined, moving your hips against his cock.

His lips tugged into a devilish smirk, "be a good girl and be patient,"

"Satoru," you sounded demanding, "please, I need more,"

This was different for Gojō as well. He couldn't contain himself as he finally had his way with his favorite student. He pushed his tip into your wanting heat, your head lulled back as he stretched your walls, "fuck,"

A whiny moan escaped your mouth as you felt full, eyes squeezed shut as you couldn't focus on anything besides his cock stretching you out.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, sheathing himself into you with one finally thrust.

The way he filled you up and the fact that you could feel every vein of his long throbbing cock had your toes curling.

He grabbed your chin, tilting your head before he dipped down. Your moans were muffled as hungry lips clashed against yours. Gojō was moving his hips at an agonizingly slow speed, dragging his full length out before snapping his hips against yours.

"Look at you, taking my cock like such a good girl, "he praised.

"I need more," you breathed, "I can't take this,"

"Oh, you want more," he asked, a grin plastered on his face, "what a greedy little whore,"

He dragged his hands over your body until they were placed on your thighs. With a swift motion, he pushed your knees up to your shoulders, hands pressing against the back of your thighs.

He quite literally folded you in half.

As he started to move again, his cock reached a point you didn't know existed. His tip hit your cervix as he picked up his pace. Your moans echoed off the walls, which only spurred him on.

His balls were slapping against your ass. The squelching sound of the thrusts just added to the ecstatic feeling.

Gojō gritted his teeth as he pounded into you. He cursed your lewd expression and the way your walls were clamping around his cock. He knew he couldn't drag this out as long as he wanted.

"G-gonna cum," you moaned.

"No, you won't," he breathed as he pulled his length out, and you groaned in response.

"Not again," you sobbed, looking at him with teary eyes, "please don't do this,"

"Are you crying," he asked, cocking his head to the side. That devilish smirk splayed across his face once again.

"N-no," you turned your head to the side, avoiding his gaze as heavy tears rolled over your rosy cheeks. The overstimulation felt like it was too much to handle.

He hated it as much as you did but couldn't let you get off like that. His cock was aching for a relief, especially with the view in front of him. You were a mess.

He picked up his pace, pounding into your wet heat with a steady rhythm. The tip of his cock brushed over that sweet spot within you with each thrust.

"Did he fuck you this good," Gojō asked curiously. Almost as if that competition between him and Suguru came naturally. Just like back then.

Your lips tugged into a smirk, "what makes you think he wasn't better?"

It was barely audible, but it was loud and clear to him, like a punch to his gut.

"What a feisty little thing you are," he said as he thrust particularly hard into you.

"Learned that from my," you moaned, "my teacher,"

Gojō loosened his grip on your thighs, letting them wrap around his hips as he leaned closer. He was propped up on his elbow while his other hand was placed on your neck. His thumb and index finger were digging into your chin, "I'm gonna fuck that little brain out,"

It sounded playful, and yet it felt like a warning to you. And just like that, he picked up his pace, hips rutting against yours. Your whole body was trembling, that familiar feeling spreading once again. His lips latched onto your neck, licking and biting your soft spot. His hot breath against your skin let a shiver run down your spine.

You mumbled something under your breath, but the latter couldn't understand.

"Gotta speak a bit clearer than that," he breathed against the shell of your ear.

He straightened his back, leaning onto the palm of his hand as he fucked you mercilessly and chased after his own relief.

"F-fuck," you moaned, "c-c-close,"

"Cum for me," Gojō groaned, "s-shit, can I cum in you?"

You nodded your head. The feeling of your walls clamping around his cock had him cum instantly, filling you up. A moan spilled over your lips as your body started to shake vigorously, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm finally washed over you. The overwhelming feeling took its toll on you, and everything went black.

Gojō's head was thrown back, breathing heavily as he came down from his high. He pulled himself out, watching as the mixture of your fluids gushed out of your used cunt.

"(Y/N)," he looked at you as worry settled in, "(Y/N)?"

Finally, your eyes slowly fluttered open, meeting his gaze.

"You alright?"

You gulped, nodding at the white-haired man in front of you.

"Got me worried for a second," he chuckled lowly, "guess I went a bit too hard on you,"

He fucked you dumb, quite literally. You couldn't form any coherent words.

"Come on," Gojō carefully lifted you off the desk as he noticed just how exhausted you were. Hence, he took you back to his quarters (he totally didn't use his teleportation skills for that. Plus, he surely didn't accidentally destroy the desk with it because he forgot about its drawback).

Later, you found yourself in his bed, limbs tangled beneath his duvet.

"You really can't tell anyone about meeting him," Gojō broke the quiet atmosphere, "I don't even wanna imagine what the higher-ups would do with you,"

You turned your head up, your gaze meeting his, "I won't,"

"Besides, I'm sure my amazing teacher would look out for me," you joked, "and if that wouldn't be the case, I could just join Suguru,"

Gojō clenched his jaw at your reply, "that would eventually end in your death,"

You let out a sigh, "I know, I know,"

"Did he tell you to join him," Gojō asked curiously.

"No, he didn't," you replied, "he wouldn't force anyone to join him,"

You thought back to your parting conversation.

"Thanks for getting me back here," you smiled at the dark-haired male.

"I would drop you off at Jujutsu High, but that's impossible," Suguru returned the smile.

"What's wrong? You seem to have something on your mind," he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Oh, it's nothing," you waved your hand dismissively, "I was just thinking about what lie to tell them,"

"I don't wanna get in trouble," you bit your cheeks.

"Well, Satoru will probably find out," Suguru shrugged, "but he's the last one you should worry about,"

"If you would get into real trouble, just call me," he said, "I'll take care of you,"

"Thank you," you squeezed his hand before letting go.

"Take care, (Y/N)," he turned around, waving as he was about to get onto his curse.

"Suguru, wait," you called as you walked a couple of steps closer.

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at you, "what is it?"

"Why didn't you kill me?"

He got onto his curse, chuckling at your question, "you remind me of someone,"

You watched him fly off, leaving you where you've met him the previous day.

"He said that I remind him of someone," you muttered, "do you have an idea who that could be?"

Gojō's mind was flooded with memories of his youth as he thought about Suguru. He knew who Suguru had in mind. After all, Gojō noticed it himself. The way you changed over the past years. You started as a loud, cheerful student, only to shut yourself off with every death of your classmates. You were just like Suguru before he turned his back on Jujutsu High.

He swore to himself that he would keep you on the right path.

"I have no idea," he replied.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo #gojō satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojō x reader #smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru

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godihatethiswebsite · 6 months ago

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Desert Oasis

✽ Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x f!reader (The Mummy AU)

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part 10 - Intoxicating distractions

It's been a bad mixture of circumstances that made this take as long as it has. Normally it's just a matter of having to write between lengthy bouts of brain fog and fatigue, but unfortunately this summer hasn't been the best for me and I'm only now getting pseudo back in the swing of things.

I was planning on finishing up all of the Hamunaptra arc in this chapter, but I got tired of wanting perfection for the second half and the couple of you who stick around for this one deserved to not wait any longer.

So, here I am - breaking my own weird internal chapter flow rules. For the first time since May, have a healthy portion of 4.8k words~

Point of note - there's some Gaelic written in this chapter. Please don't google translate it as it gives you the wrong meaning. Just paste it into a search bar instead. It's from a very lovely song~

Shock, it seemed, was your body’s default response to trauma.

The aftermath of the chaos was a lead weight in your gut, sitting heavy and churning the already upset bile in your sensitive stomach. There wasn’t a direction you could turn that wasn’t the embodiment of wanton destruction and needless massacre.

Trampled tents and belongings were either pulverized or in a state of disarray. Lifeless bodies like discarded toys amongst the rubble, flayed open and strewn across the wreckage as if tossed aside carelessly by their former masters. Charred remains smoldering in the sand, the smoke making your eyes sting almost as much as the odor, outer layer of crispy skin still bubbling long after the corpse was cooked.

The cold distance of disassociation shifted into an unsettled queasiness at full force, giving you only moments to recognize the acidity racing up your throat before collapsing to your knees in the dirt, the bitter mess splattering between your hands unfortunately not out of place in this setting.

Maybe your reaction might have been different if you’d been forced to witness the fallout of that eerily similar night on the ferry. Maybe you wouldn’t be bent over hurling up rations behind a broken pillar that felt as collected as your emotions. But the souls of the deceased had been lost to the bottom of the Nile and you’d been spared the horrors up close.

There was no such luck this time.

Kyle must notice you first, calling out your name with rattled urgency as you rise on shaky legs from your hiding spot, grateful your clothes had at least been spared from your embarrassment. There was an instant relief at seeing your cousin standing before you, hands firmly grasping your shoulders keeping you at arms length while taking in your disheveled appearance for any sign of injury or impairment. At first glance, he didn’t seem any less worse for wear himself, something you were entirely grateful for.

“Jesus! You alright, dolly?” The hands on your shoulders slid to your upper arms, gentle stroking motions ironing out the lingering chill in your bones, concern evident in eyes that raked over your frame in detail.

You weren't confident with your nod, still processing the last few minutes of wanton bloodshed. Your cousin’s careful touch was a blessed balm for your struggling nerves, taking in a few deep breaths in time with his own as he worked to ground you.

How someone could get used to this violent lifestyle you’d never know.

A startled gasp left your throat as you were promptly whirled around to face a fuming pair of cerulean orbs, blue waves turbulent as his emotions consumed him raw. You could almost be washed out to its churning Mediterranean Sea if not for the tight grip his fingers dug into your flesh, nostrils flaring, each word emphasized with a jarring shake.

“Bloody fuckin– the hell ye doin’ out ‘ere, lass?! Huh?!”

The second time staring down the Scotsman’s wrath was no less intimidating than the first. Here you were smack dab in the middle of another hazardous situation – at first glance having apparently not learned your lesson from last time – surrounded by corpses that could’ve so easily been you. What savage fury had once been loosed upon the men responsible for this carnage was now pinpoint fixed on your trembling form.

Lips parted like a gaping fish, opening and closing as you struggled to explain the circumstance that led you here under the riptide of his ire. He didn’t even allow you time to formulate a coherent response before he was promptly shoving your face in his chest, catching you off guard while bulky forearms wrapped around you to an almost crushing degree. Your hands braced on his sternum were the only things keeping your nose from getting smashed and giving you some minor space to breathe.

“Ye were supposed tae be safe, ya daft hen...” There was palpable anger in his tone, but also a weary frustration as he unconsciously squeezed you tighter. “Wha’ part of don’t move did ye not comprehend?”

“I’m sorry…” your voice soft, teetering on wobbly, “One of the camels–”

Johnny cut you off again with a growl. “Dunnae care about no damn beast, hen. Only you. Ah say stay, ye stay. Got it?”

There was nothing you could say to justify your actions to them. You hadn’t meant to end up in the thick of it, truly. Kyle might be your cousin, but there wasn’t an ounce of fighter in your side of the bloodline. If the adrenaline hadn’t kept you singularly focused on your goal of retrieving the runaway animal then maybe you’d have noticed its intended path earlier and could’ve turned tail, avoiding this whole fiasco.

Instead, you made yourself appear foolish, something that tugged on your chest with a bright blossom of shame.

Johnny realized himself at the sound of your unbidden quiet whimper, his stance relaxing marginally as he forced a steadying exhale from his lungs, tugging on his own reins. Hands turned from smothering to cradling, next words spoken tersely but with much more self-control.

“Ah cannae protect ye if I dunnae ken where ye are – neither of us can. Ah’m thinkin’ yer tucked away from danger when ye’ve really been right next tae me the whole time. Cannae so easily take the offensive when ah’m forced ta do the opposite. Make sense, lass?”

Humming your affirmation with another soft apology, you closed your eyes against the gruesome visions surrounding the three of you, his lessened grip allowing you to maneuver yourself more comfortably in his hold, arms reaching around his stocky build with fingers groping into the back of his shirt like a lifeline. Kyle’s tender touch joined his, knuckles stroking soothingly down the back of your arm as they each placed a chaste kiss to your crown.

His arms were still around you as the remaining members of the other expedition hesitantly approached, a pregnant pause as they shifted and looked between themselves awkwardly as if silently debating who amongst them would be the one to speak, eventually settling on Hutch.

“Whaddya fellas say to a small truce…?”

It was almost an insult when the offending camel came trotting back a short while later, as if it had merely gone for a casual midnight jaunt rather than almost costing you your life chasing after it in the first place.

What remaining tents could be salvaged were moved farther into the city towards your thankfully untouched encampment, the few remaining workers left behind to scavenge through the rubble and properly dispose of the bodies of their slain brethren. You held a slight disdain for the Americans sitting comfy on their cushions nearby, content to let the hired help do all the heavy lifting while they gloated in their sorting of their precious valuables, inspecting for any minor cracks and dents that could cost them even a fraction of a pound off their eventual asking price.

The majority of their group had just been killed in cold blood. The least they could’ve done was help pile the corpses, something even your boys had assisted with after seeing you back to your tent with pointed looks not to wander off this time.

Besides their uncaring attitudes, it was less tense than you thought seated across the blazing fire from the others. Even Graves seemed to have been whipped into his best behavior after everything that went down, gracefully keeping his mouth shut and facial expression free of sneer. No one wanted to really converse, retreating to their own corners to try and forget the night's events.

“Bastards are like fucking cockroaches,” Roze spit out, violently ripping into a piece of jerky with her bared canines and more gusto than needed.

“Thought we taught them enough of a lesson last time,” chirped Oz with an air of self bloating. “Showed them they picked the wrong crowd to tango with.”

“They chased us off the boat, mate,” Kyle snarked as your pair returned from their labors, intent to settle down for the night. “Hate to break it to ya, but I don’t think we were the ones who made off with the upper hand there.”

Even the glowers directed towards him for contradicting their senseless beliefs didn’t stop your cousin from nicking a bottle of something strong from the Americans.

“You mind?” Oz spoke up as Kyle brazenly yanked the dark glass from his hands, trotting over to plop down next to Johnny who’d taken up residence to your right.

“Call it a tithe for savin’ your arses and letting you stay the night over here with us.” The bottle uncorked with a coherent pop, a subtle fizz releasing into the dry air before Kyle gave it a quick swirl. Whatever contents he sniffed inside must’ve been good enough for his palate, tipping his head back to take the first swig with a satisfied groan, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

That reaction was good enough for you.

“For once, dear cousin, I find we are in agreement.” In lieu of a soothing cup of chamomile, if there was one thing you could use after the excitement of the day, it was a stiff drink to help clear out your ruminating mind.

Leaning across the space with your arm outstretched for the bottle in question, he happily handed it over to you with an encouraging chuckle. “Good on ya, dolly.”

Johnny merely raised an eyebrow at you in question, not having seen you as anything other than proper since your first introduction in the prison cell.

You ignored it as you inspected the label, squinting to read the smudged ink on crinkled paper, clearly water damaged from its previous dip in the river. Shiraz from a vineyard in Khollar; written out in simple scrawl. Peering inside you found a light pale liquid, a flavor profile comparable to that of an old sherry – dry and nutty. At first taste it parched your tongue, settling on the back of your soft palate, different from the sweeter aged varieties you preferred but not an unwelcome tang.

If you could share a brandy with your cousin in your father’s old smoking room then you could certainly down a bottle of dry wine in an ancient forbidden city.

The evening progressed with not much shared conversation between the twelve or so of you still remaining, both sides opting to chatter amongst themselves despite the close proximity. It certainly wasn’t any skin off your back, losing yourself in the strong ABV as if it was a more succulent port, in a place far more rose tinted than here amongst the wafting smell of camels.

You rarely, if ever, allowed yourself to indulge, noting only a small handful of instances during the last decade you’d ventured past the point of tipsy over a game of cards with the other noble women of society. It was ‘unbecoming’ of a lady, a twilight activity best left to gentlemen's clubs where the rich white men of the ton congratulated themselves on being masters of the universe.

Whoever said men were the only ones permitted to have all the fun hadn’t been privy to the goings on behind closed parlour doors.

Still, you ended up just as sloshed as your cousin for a change, grateful for the way the warming alcohol buzzed in the back of your brain and loosened the tension from your shoulders. It was freeing having the ability to shut your brain off for a few scant hours, granting a short reprieve from the all too real worries the night sky had brought with it. You could forget all about the bloodstained granules you’d traipsed through on your way back to camp, trading coppery cabernet for nutty shiraz.

The pale waning moon hung bright in the dappled sky, nestled amongst a symphony of speckled jewel tones and painted galaxies that glistened like bioluminescent mermaid scales. A sight like no other; your wayward imagination was easily lost in the spiraling fractals of cosmology, floating above like kicked up stardust from the twirling of dancing deities. It was one of many things you’d come to appreciate outside the realm of the bright Egyptian cities. Too much of it was hidden by the industrial glow of a bustling population to be visible from the balcony of your estate. Out here with only flickering firelight to illuminate the space, the heavens were on naked display.

The rattled snoring from your cousin provided an added ambiance to an already jostled night, having curled up into a ball some minutes ago despite swearing to only resting his eyelids. Perhaps if he hadn’t needn’t to be saved only a few moments prior from a less-than-dignified face planting into the spitting firewood then you might’ve been more inclined to believe him, having yanked him backwards a hair’s breadth from the flames, his self imposed vertigo doing a better job impersonating a tilt-a-whirl than a man.

Johnny, meanwhile, hadn’t partaken despite the badgerings of your cousin. An oddity considering what you’d known of the man. Though, you supposed, someone needed to retain their sobriety should another event befall your troupe.

Didn’t stop him from delighting in your own inebriated state, bullying your full attention now that the others had bid their goodnights.

“Yer oot yer face, lass,” he chuckled at your expense, his thumb wiping away a dribble of spilled wine from the corner of your mouth as you fought to keep in the intoxicating liquid from a previously made humorful comment. “Right mad with it, ye are.”

You watched in a hazy rapture as he brought the thick digit to his mouth, tongue swirling around the calloused pad, lips sucking off the taste with a bit more zeal than necessary and far too much eye contact for what was appropriate.

Swallowing the shiraz in your mouth, you wiped your chin with the back of your hand before addressing his remarks. “Apologies for breaking the illusion of primness and propriety.”

“It’s yer own stomach ye’ll be boakin’ up,” he shrugged with an air of teasing, still keeping an eye on you should the urge come to pass. “Haven’t ya hurled enough fer one night, lass?”

You glowered over the rim of the bottle, face struggling to remain flat and unamused despite the twitch in your lips stating the contrary. “Low blow, MacTavish…”

“Ah, so it’s MacTavish when yer cross with me, aye?”

God, he was an insufferable bastard. Lounging there all smug with that mischievous twinkle and those prominent laugh lines. Why you just wanted to lean over and lick them clean off his stupid face–

No.

“You’ll hear me saying ‘Johnny’ again when you do something to earn the privilege back.”

“Oh, ah plan tae earn it alright.”

The subtle innuendo wasn’t at all subtle, but in your current state it was hard to distinguish between what was mere banter at this point and the fervid looks he’d been doling out since your second meeting.

You scrambled for a change of subject, hoping for a much needed distraction from the steady pulse between your thighs.

“You did something earlier that caught me by surprise. In the temple,” you prodded. “Curious for a catholic boy to worship at the altar of another god.” It was an honest question if not a bit ribbing, reflecting back to his quiet presence next to you in the inner sanctuary of Horus, head bowed in silent reverence towards a figure not affixed to a cross.

“Havnae been a good boy in a long time now, lass. War will do that ta ye.” The shrug he gave was nonchalant, as was his tone. But there was something strained to his words that spoke of deeper issues held towards his faith. “But ah see no harm in honorin’ a sacred space, ‘specially in such a desolate place like this. If the old gods wanna grant us safe passage fer a kindly visit then ah won't be sayin’ no tae a helpin’ hand.”

That hadn’t been the kind of diversion you’d been poking for, and you weren’t far gone enough in your cups to keep prying at an open wound. Somber didn’t suit him and you desired to have your playful companion back.

Instead, you set about grabbing at his weathered journal, snatching it up from its unattended spot near his bedroll in hopes to garner a more lighthearted reaction.

The leather binding was well worn, skin lightened where the natural oils of his hands rubbed off on the spots where he frequently cradled the book. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it - no engraving or even simple initials embedded on the spine marking it as his. But it was clear that it had gone with him to the edges of the world and back. Large water splotches warped the hide. Dark blood stains you couldn’t be sure were his. The curled edges of the pages crinkled and dirtied from muddy fingertips. You could even detect the faint smell of cigarette smoke and musky cologne, something similar to the fragrance currently attached to his skin.

“Gonna pry into mah deep dark secrets now, hen?” Johnny quirked a brow in intrigue, though he made no attempt to halt your endeavours.

“Well now it’s not nearly as much fun if you’re letting me do it,” you grumbled good naturedly, causing a light hearted chuckle from him before flipping to the first of many pages.

You expected to find clever writings and gossip upon turning the cover, illegible chicken scratch venting at the harshness of life abroad. Maybe a few rambles here and there at certain spectacles of particular enjoyment. What you hadn’t envisioned was a book filled with detailed illustrations and odd sketches that told the stories he'd witnessed without call for an alphabet; words made real taken shape on the page. Some were more juvenile in form - stick figures and rough outlines, half formed thoughts in a hurry - while others were artistic renderings he'd taken particular care with in their recreation. There was no need for written word when he so eloquently laid bare his inner thoughts with practiced technique of shading and highlighting.

“Not wha’ ya thought ye’d find, eh?”

The question itself was rhetorical. It was clear he’d known he would catch you off guard, possibly used to the same reaction garnered from others in the past. Could you blame them though? I mean, who would expect a stalwart soldier like him to possess such artistic skill?

But was that… that small shake in his voice when he cleared his throat… was he…?

Turning the pages, a London skyline greeted you, sketches of back home amongst civilian life, a cute critter peeking out near the bottom corner of the page you recognized as Julius from various trips to the picture palaces during sweltering English summers (you’d seen a handful of the Alice Comedies yourself, the mixture of live action and hand drawn animation enchantingly brought to life by a young artist named Walt).

There were a handful of times the journal was plucked from your fingers and turned from view, certain secrets best kept hidden as he searched for a more appropriate page to let you explore. Whether the contents were too personal for you to engage with or even something deemed too grotesque for your comparatively innocent gaze, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t push the subject when he handed the item back to you, accepting the bits of his private thoughts he offered up willingly and with a grateful smile.

The pair of you spent an unknown length of time combing through the catalogs of his adventures, continuing to sip at the dark glass bottle, though far more occupied with the details on the page to really maintain any sort of solid buzz. Some depictions required more elaboration, you pointing at different sketches with all the enthusiasm of a child being read aloud from a favored picture book, eyes bright and inviting of the stories he was all too happy to share.

The tranquility of a small farmhouse backdropped against a sea of rolling meadows particularly captured your attention. It reminded you far too much of your youth spent exploring the wilds beyond your cousin’s childhood abode. “And this one? Where was this sketched?”

Wistful pride lit him from within. “That there’s mah home, lass.”

You inspected the illustration a bit more thoroughly at the revelation, brushing careful fingertips over the smudged graphite, imagining the scene with brighter colors and a warm gentle breeze rustling the long wild grassland. A modest barn was implied towards the west end of the property, the shadows of a fence winding a perimeter. Flipping to the backside of the parchment revealed the scene in more detail, tools stacked neatly along the inside of an open swing door, highland cattle grazing amongst the feed troughs within the confines of their pen.

A bust of the fluffy beast stared you head on with hairy concealed eyes on the accompanying page, bumpy wet nose glistening and mouth open mid chew of its sweet herby meal. You could imagine long hours spent caring for its herd, the scritches his bushy mane must’ve received.

“Grew up a country boy, huh?”

“Ah ken mah way ‘round a tractor,” came the boasted reply.

You snorted. “Well, aren't you just rich.”

Johnny patted the small leather pouch secured to his belt, bursting with coin from your early morning victory and kept safe on his person. “Ah’ve earned mah keep.”

Lingering over the page a bit longer, you unexpectedly changed course, flipping from the very back of the journal, curious to see his most recent works. “Let’s see what you’ve been making of our current adventure, shall we?”

Blank pages waiting to be filled gave way to remarkable hieroglyphics embedded in your retinas as clear as day on the page before you, given far more detail than you would have otherwise given him credit for. There was no need for going back to create charcoal rubbings of the reliefs when you had all you needed right here on the page. Skimming further uncovered lifelike renditions of various statues housed within.

Giant obelisks outside the temple of Hathor. A bust of Amun-Ra. The remains of the boat docks. Tiny replicas of ivory treasures. Hatshepsut’s stone sarcophagus. Pharaonic headdresses. A small ceremonial altar.

When had he even had time to put pencil to paper?!

“Jesus Johnny–”

“There we go,” he interjected with a chuff at the return of his name, though you continued unimpeded.

“–do you have a photographic memory or something?! These carvings are immensely accurate for someone who can’t even read the language!”

“Not quite tha’ remarkable unfortunately,” he added. “Cannae seem tae recall the direction some of ‘em were facin’. Ah ken that’s important tae the syntax.”

“Damn near close enough…” you trailed off, muttering under your breath. It spoke volumes that you were having no trouble at all forming sentence structures from what little he had jotted down. The fact that he could remember the preserved paintings better than you…

“All this from memory…”

“Gotta have a good eye fer detail if ye dunnae wanna get killed,” he explained.

You hummed at his words. “Was wondering why a soldier like yourself had been taking such an interest.”

“Ah may be a brute, lass, but ah ken art when ah see it.”

You went unnaturally still halfway through flipping the page. Breath caught in your throat like a mouse in a cage, heart pounding in your ears drowning out the grumbled snorings of present company. You wondered at the drawing that took up the full span of parchment. Of all the things for him to–

A figure.

You.

You’d seen others littered across his journal; learned their names and heard their stories. Comrades in arms, random strangers in pubs. An older woman who shared his same broad nose.

But this was different.

There was no mistaking the care and attention that went into creating the likeness of the moment. You recalled sitting by the fire the other night, the long winded conversation between you, sitting position reflected on the paper from his vantage point. At the time you’d assumed his pencil had been scrawling out notes - perhaps quiet confessions of the encounters that turned this expedition into something very different. Words that if spoken aloud and given life would reveal a man who regretted stepping foot outside his cell.

Who knew this admission would be the most damning of all.

“...you drew me?”

“Like ah said.”

Ah ken art when ah see it.

Words escaped you at that. What were you supposed to say when faced with such a declaration? Thank you didn’t seem right, but making no comment at all felt even worse.

It didn’t help that even in your inebriated condition the burn of his stare sent scorch marks flaring across your cheek like a flash grenade. Caught up in the well of emotions at the etherealness he used to portray you, you all at once became hyper aware of the scant few inches separating you and him, all but in his lap as he at some point scooted closer to peer over your shoulder.

Johnny smoothly pulled the remaining alcohol from your grasp, trading a heavy waterskin for your near-empty bottle of wine with only slight fuss from you at the loss. “C’mon, m’eudail. Let’s get ye soberin’ up so yer not dead on yer feet come mornin’.”

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that,” you remarked, handing the pouch back over after a few refreshing gulps. “May-doll. What’s it mean?”

“Means yer a right pain in the arse.”

You heavily considered calling his bluff, but on the off chance you were wrong you didn’t need to look any more stupid than the nickname implied. “To be expected from such a harsh dialect,” you countered instead.

There was that glimmer of trouble again. “Ye think mah native tongue barbaric, lass?”

“Well it’s certainly not a romance language,” you chuckled in response, rising to your feet and nearly tipping ass over tea kettle until his firm grip yanked and manhandled you right into his lap. It was on the tip of your tongue to break out in a fit of giggles at your clumsiness, but one look from him with those deep passionate eyes kept you spellbound and tongue tied in a chinese knot.

“Ye want a gent that’s soft and eloquent, or a man who kens how tae get the job done?”

The heated furnace in your belly blossomed at the suggestion in his words. While your maidenhead was still intact, by no means were you a stranger to the pleasures one could bring themselves in the secret of the night. Your fingers knew best the way your body curved and constricted around delicate digits. Those same feelings stirred like a famished beast, gulping down thick buckets of desire, your fervent gaze made bolder by shiraz darting briefly down to his lips in what you hoped was quick enough to sneak past his purview.

The way his pupils dilated told you you'd failed.

“How about a man who can do both? Does the art of courtship die with the fall of chivalry?”

A calloused hand stroked over your face, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over the sliver of skin beneath your bottom lip. He held your chin the way you held your breath as he leaned forward to softly graze his nose against yours. There was no way he didn’t hear your heart pounding out of your chest, the way your lungs rapidly gulped in shallow gasps of air. How you had to adjust your legs to take the edge off the burn.

His words were a mere whisper against your lips, tasting his breath as melodic phrases flowed from a silver dipped tongue. “Ged nach eil sinn fhathast pòsd’ tha mi'n dòchas gum bi. Fhad’ ’s a mhaireas mo dhà dhòrn cha bhith lòn oirnn a dhìth.”

Johnny must be one of the fae, you surmised, the way he ensnares you so easily like a siren’s call with foreign words only your heart gleans the meaning of. The vocalizations are rough, yet delicate and sensual in the enchanting lilt of his homeland. There’s witchcraft winding its way around your spirit, sent from heather covered mountains and babbling brooks; crafted by dwarves and perfected in sacred mushroom circles. It’s the only logical reason as to why eyes as soft as his have taken complete control over the lifeblood thrumming in your veins.

There’s a moment where you’re all but certain you’ll meet in the middle, where the dance the two of you have been skirting around will finally come to a head and you discover how much sweeter the shiraz is when tasted from his mouth.

But when his lips settled on your brow, you fought not to let the disappointment show.

“Off tae bed with ye, lass,” he murmured softly, “dunnae want yer cousin tae skelp me fer keepin’ ye up too late.”

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mayfast · 1 year ago

Text

Little Blurb while I Work On the Next Part of My Aocorro Series...

Note: This is all subject to change. Just wanted you guys to know I am, in fact still working on it.

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“…” The thought is catching on the younger’s tongue, Jake sees it. He sees how the little twitches around his mouth get snuffed by a second thought. “Am…Am I in trouble?”

It’s not what he was expecting. Is he really all worked up over some paint? He feels whatever tension building up in his temple fade away.

“No,” The word falls gently, because why would Spider be in trouble? He’s learning, and exploring and expressing himself, the way kids are suppose to. “Why would you think that?” He takes another hit of the mask. Heavier air filling his lungs properly.

“It’s just that, you came over this morning after yesterday,” Spider’s thumb rubs over his mug’s handle and he looks way, “You’d just never said anything about the paint yesterday, sir.” The bitterness lingers over his tongue and slips down his throat, wrapping around it. Another twitch his eyes barked at him for his son to call him sir. Like he was an officer, or a drill sergeant. Not his fucking Dad.

It takes him a moment to just look at his baby. Eye’s still heavy with bags, and matted hair. He smaller hands wrapped around the warm mug like it’s the only thing protecting him from the big bad scary wolf sitting across from him. Maybe Spider really feels like it is.

The head tension is back with a vengeance now as guilt berates him. Spider thinks him wanting to spend time with his son alone, is to punish him. Eywa forgive him. That’s…that’s not what he meant to do.

“I’m sorry bud, I shouldn’t have just pulled this out of the blue,” Spider’s lips flatline and he realizes maybe that wasn’t the best word choice, “But I just wanted to…spend more time with you.” The bouncing knee cuts its movement and Jake can see the way he tightens his grip on the mug. He brown eyes still looking out the window beside them.

“…Thank you for, uh, trying” The sigh was less out of annoyance, or exhaustion, and more of not knowing what to say, tittering off towards the end. Those warm brown eyes shyly meet his. “I appreciate it.” Somehow, with the gentle orbs focusing in on him again, he can tell the words are forced, no matter how sincere they sound. No matter how pleading those eyes look at him, he can tell somewhere in his soul, Spider’s just telling him what he thinks Jake wants to hear.

He's failed before he could even try.

“Can I ask you a question?” He perks up as the words echo the hallow shack. He feels a prick in the back his neck. Spider wants to ask him something?

“Of course,” He trails off, almost letting some form of affection slip. Would Spider’s be okay with petnames or silly nicknames? Would it annoy him like Lo’ak?

He smells fire as Spider collects his words a bit more, eyes glazing over before refocusing in cycles as he mouth twitches to open before closing again. Jake’s stomach twists. What has his kid so worked up that he feels like he can’t even speak around him?

“It’s it true that your old call sign was Cerberus?” Air knocked right out his lungs. Who taught him that? Who told him that? Who let his kid know what he had been? What he vowed to never return to? Who told Spider about his time with the marines. Who told him about what happened in Venezuela. Who- “You don’t have to answer.” Spider’s meek, his eyes widen as he’s staring right at him. Jake lowers his lips, covering his bared teeth. He barred his fangs at his fucking baby. He blinks, before blinking again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

He stood as the heavy thumps echoed in his head, reaching over the table to calm his baby that he just snarled at. The other throws himself backward, coffee filling the air as the boy scrambles away. The chair is skewed on the floor, the mug rolling away from his child. Coffee stains grow on his shirt, eyes wide with fear.

He pulls back immediately, realizing he's scaring his son. His ears pull back, vainly trying to shut the echoes up.

‘That boy knows everything.’ Didn’t he scream that months ago when they took off?

THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

He watches as Spider hyperventilates, his body starting to shake. First in the hands, then his lungs as he draws breath, growing from his shoulders to his torso and to his twitching feet. His head twitches left, twice, pulling him forward and back. Yerik's eyes stare at him from across that river. Blood in the water, and down his nose. The iron scent coats the room so fast as it dribbles thickly over his lip. Lamb to the slaughter, he felt a heavy weight settle in his chest, suffocating him with the iron tang of blood and the acrid scent of spilled coffee.

Jake is taut, his son is on the floor freaking out and bleeding. Your fault. Spider was not like this before they left. Your fault. Spider was not scared of him, certainly never flinched at a raised arm. Your fault. Spider never had nosebleeds. Your fault. He knew what the RDA would do to a prisoner. Your fault. Hadn’t he done that to prisoners too? Your fault. Spider didn’t know his name was Cerberus before then. Your fault. No one knew that. Your fault.

The kid knows everything.

_________________

Yes, yes, yes, I know. Not very Aocorro here. But little Jake & Spider interaction for the soul huh? Anyone huh? No? Okay. Anyway, there will be cutesy Spider/Ao'nung stuff at the end, probably a forehead kiss, because GOD. @lovermyme, their art is so fucking good! He makes me feral with his depictions of Spider and Ao'nung.

#aocorro #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #miles socorro #spider soccoro sully #avatar spider #spider avatar #avatar #jake sully #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #Ao'nung #Aonung #avatar james cameron

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laduenadelswing · 1 year ago

Text

Sworn enemies

Vox x female reader

warning: smut, enemies

The music throbbed through the opulent hall, a cacophony drowned out by the din of revelry. Amidst the swirling throng, you stumbled, laughter catching in your throat as you righted yourself. Wine sloshed in your glass, a red stain blossoming on the pristine white tablecloth.

He found you there, Vox, the enemy you knew all too well. His eyes, twin orbs of deep red, glittered in the dim light, assessing you with a blend of amusement and concern.

"Well, well," he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like the fierce soul hunter has become the prey of the night."

You glared, the alcohol emboldening your defiance. "What are you doing here, Vox?"

He chuckled, stepping closer. "Isn't it obvious, my dear little rival? Enjoying the festivities while you drown your sorrows in Vodka?"

"Sorrows?" You scoffed. "I'm celebrating a victory, actually." A victory over him, though you wouldn't admit it aloud.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks and unsteady stance. "A victory that requires such copious libations?"

You met his gaze, a spark of defiance igniting in your chest. "Maybe I celebrate how I want, Vox. You don't know what celebrating is because I always win."

His eyes locked on yours, the amusement fading to something deeper, something you couldn't quite decipher. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words and the intoxicating scent of his presence.

You were rivals, sworn enemies, yet there was a strange pull between you, a tension that crackled like the lightning outside the window. You hated yourself for feeling it, for the way your heart hammered against your ribs. You're like the sun and the moon.

"Come here," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Before you could protest, he reached out, his claw warms against your skin as he pulled you away from the crowed to a private place. Afterward, he pulled you closer. You stumbled against his chest, the intoxicating scent of him filling your senses.

"You're drunk," he murmured, his voice close to your ear.

"So?" You challenged, though your voice lacked conviction.

He tilted your chin up, his eyes searching your face. "Don't you know what you're doing, little soul hunter?"

You stared into his depths, the party behind you fading away. The music, the laughter, all vanished, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment charged with unspoken desires.

You leaned in, suddenly, inexplicably drawn to him. "Do you, Vox?" you whispered, looking into his red eyes. Your face glow in his blue light, the demon overlord had never seen something more beautiful.

He didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes. His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Then, his lips met yours, a searing kiss that ignited a fire within you.

It was a kiss fueled by rivalry, by forbidden desires, by the intoxicating haze of the night. His lips were firm yet tender, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You clung to him, drowning in the intensity of the moment, forgetting everything but the press of his body against yours. You began to enjoy his dominance.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it began, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. You pulled back, your cheeks burning, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm.

"What was that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He stared at you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you couldn't name. Then, he turned away, his voice low and gruff. "A decision." He stated and kissed you again. Your mind was corrupted by the alcohol and his kiss, the firm lips and the way his claws playfully wrapped around your waist.

You went back into his apartment. The mobility took some damage, Vox enjoyed throwing you through his flat. His claws ran through your hair, ran down your body. "I can't get enough of this." He stated in between your make-out session. "I will make you come back and help me out." You just smiled into the kiss. His heart stopped, maybe it was more than a forbidden fling. Vox always cared about you, he only wanted to destroy his bedroom, kitchen and bathroom with you."

Try me." You replied. He pulled you into his bedroom, the view was amazing. Suddenly, a big screen appeared in front of you. It just mirrored everything in the bedroom. "I want you to see this." A diabolic grin appeared on his face. He sat down on his bed, unbuckled his pants and showing his manhood, fear appeared in your eyes. "You're so pretty when you're afraid. Take it." He demanded, you agreed. Your sight was corrupted, but you just did you did your best, sucking your enemy. His moans became louder, as he struck your hair gently.

"If I knew you're that good, little soul hunter, I would have given it to you sooner." He became increasingly drunk on his desires and emotions. Vox always knew it was you. You even appeared in his dreams. He told himself that you're a nightmare, but deep down he knew that you have always been the girl of his dreams." He couldn't take it anymore. Pushed you away from him, appeared behind you and threw you onto his bed.

Ripped your dress apart, you were way too sexy for clothes anyway. His claws scratched your beautiful skin and left his marks. Kissed your neck, collarbone, breast. He started sucking on your nipple, playing with the one he couldn't suck, and used his claw to massage your zone. The surprise on his face made him proud.

Your moaning motivated him, he wanted to please you. His claws entered you. "Oh, it's so good just for me?" He growled. As you shivered and began to twitch, he stopped, grinned and worked with his mouth in your private area. You never expected that your sworn enemy could make you so happy. He grabbed your legs forcefully and ate you passionately. With more passion than a demon or human ever could.

You couldn't even recover, before he entered your body. Your moans turned into screams, he scratched your back until he had blood on his claws. The more he fell into your passionate act, the more he became obsessed. You appeared on the screen, he made you watch. He helped you remember that your biggest rival had power over you. He wanted to make you see how he f*cked you. Your expression was priceless. Fortunately it was recorded.

"So amazing." He moaned, trying his best to sound in control, he knew that since he kissed you he could never gain full control again. Not in this situation. Desire consumed him. He took you, pleased you, made you happy and content. After that he was the one to be fulfilled, the bed was used pillows ripped apart, blankets on the floor. He was tired as you laid in his arms. Your warmth made him smile, his body was getting used to your heat. Vox came to close with his rival but he couldn’t deny it any longer. He hoped that you slept as he mumbled.

"I think I love you. Fuck...."

Authors not: Hey I hope you liked it. Please leave me some tricks or critic. Can anybody tell me how to make a master list? Love 🥰

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin charlie #vox #smut #hazbin hotel vox #vizziepop #consent #enemies to lovers #vox x reader #frienemies #spank me daddy

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thebunnednun · 1 year ago

Text

Lovesick

Pairing: Buggy The Clown x Strawhat! Reader

Summary: Oh, you really love that clown.

Angst fic time guys, bust out the tissues and do your best to recover afterwards.

TW: Sudden death of a loved one

Songfic set to Laufey's: LoveSick

♩Floorboards creaking in my home

Deathly silence when alone

Oh, I wish that you were here right now♩

You awoke with a start and clasped your hands to your neck. Five days, that's all it took for your world to come crashing down around you. Your eyes adjusted to the dim room around you. The sun hadn't bored its way into your windows yet, thankfully. It was a kindness you much needed. Softly, you placed your hands beside you. Closing your eyes, you felt the left side of the mattress to find it ice cold and empty. You knew it would be empty. So why bother checking, anyway? You slowly opened your eyes again, fingers retrieving an orange and white striped bandana.

♩So unlike me, somehow I

Fell in love in just three nights

Those November days still haunting me♩

You met him in a bar. The crew and yourself having docked at a town during the fall. The smell of apples and crisp air was intoxicating to you. Agreeing to accompany everyone to a pub, you sat by yourself as the designated person that evening. However, that changed when your captain ran into an old foe.

"BINKY!" "Fuck Me."

You swiveled around in your step to see a very interesting man before you. He stood over six feet tall and sported a pissed-off look. Maybe you were staring too hard because his angry green eyes flicked directly towards you. Time honestly just stopped there for both of you. Let's be clear: Both parties saw it too. Your (e/c) starbeds locked with his piercing green ones in a mix of curiosity and interest. Your whole body seemed to hum in unison little cheers of, "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes!" The light around everything else was gone. Only you and him exist in time and space right now. You knew the whole of your face was flushed from the warmth of your body.

But you'd be lying if you didn't see the redness from his neck creep upwards towards the tips of his ears.

Finally, he tore his orbs away from yours and looked back at Luffy. They nodded and called it a truce for that night. Zoro took you to get water while Sanji playfully teased you. You wanted to turn around from the bar and find that man again. You felt strong tingles running up and down the curve of your back. Peeking out from behind your hair, you could see him intently peering at you.

You shook your head, thankful for the bars open window, and returned to nursing your water. There was a quiet buzz all around from the merriment.

Your heart swelled from the harmony but also pounded to be let out. It seemed to call out to you, "Look! There he is! In all his golden resistance. Haven't you ever wished to know? To know, the love from your soul mate? If you don't let me out right now, you never will! Oh, please let me go to him. I can hear his heart too, listen!"

Placing your hand over your chest, you tried to stop your heart from escaping the ribs of your bossom and flying into the chest of that blue-haired man.

You tried to close your eyes and steady your hard breathing. The bartender refreshed your water glass, and you could hear the bar stool next to you scooting back. Opening your eyes, you were met with the same green ones that seemed to shine brighter. You traced over his whole being, not noticing that he had leaned down to your height. The corner of his lips turned ever so slightly until he brought his fist up to rest on his jaw.

The motion caught your attention minutes later when you paused and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Like whatcha see, doll?~" he teased, but there was no venom in his words. Just a soft, warm fullness of his voice.

God, his voice.

You had both talked for hours that night until you could see the sleeping crews behind you, the sleeping bartender, and the sun threatening to peak over the mountains from the bar window. You swapped mailing information and helped walk each other's crews back to the docks.

You prayed that wouldn't be the last time you saw that beautiful clown man. Little did you know he, who raided towns and had closed the world out from his heart, was on his knees that very mourning, praying for the same thing. Thus began the back and forth of a very good friendship.

Anyone could see you were enamored with each other. A strong friendship, built on honesty and trust. One that helped bring out your true personality that your crewmates felt honored to know. You brought out a kind and even vulnerable side to him without shame. Everyone could see the positive changes in your personality and were thankful for it.

♩When the gold rays fell on your skin

And my hair got caught in the wind

The choir sang a melancholic hymn ♩

That first date was a disaster, but a cute one. The clown crew finally pushed him to ask you to be his, and the straw hats were not going to let you hide from this confrontation. He approached you in all seriousness with a bouquet of Copihue and yellow tulips. He gave a glare to his crew from over his shoulder and nodded toward Luffy once more. Everyone gave you some privacy as he gulped and handed you the flowers without looking at you. You accepted them still and tried to find his eyes only to realize his were wet.

"Y/n?"

"Yes?"

He let you towards the stairs then gently sat you down, and tried to speak again. The words seemed to be failing him until he reached for your hands, and you dropped the flowers to reach back. Taking your smaller hands in his seemed to help stabilize him.

He rubbed his thumbs over yours and looked up at you, "I have feelings for you, and I have for a long time. I've had feelings for you ever since that first meeting. I understand that may complicate things. But it's the honest truth. I love you, and I want to be yours." He looked up again his eye red and shiny. His steady voice was clearly shaken as those eyes you loved so much began to fill with tears, searching for your reaction.

You kept your face solid as stone while taking in all the information. He dropped his head and slowly began to retract his hands, taking your silence as a no. Feeling this, you pulled his hands to your chest and embraced him fully. The two of you tumbled a little tumble to the floor, with his warm arms protecting your back and your hands cradling his head. "Oh God, I thought you didn't like me back." He sighed and buried himself into the crock of your neck. You could still feel the wetness of his eyelashes against your skin. Your hands made their way to his back, rubbing and tracing your nails in imaginary patterns on his skin. "Of course I do, you silly clown." You felt him blow a raspberry into your tender flesh causing you to burst out laughing. "I'm not going to take that!" You squealed while tickling him frantic. After much rolling around, you smiled at each other, breathless and happy.

♩(ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah)♩

That first "hang out", he took you out on an all-day date to one of your favorite towns. Zoro huffed something about wanting you back at a decent hour, and your love quirked one eyebrow before waving him off. You punched his arm, and he shot a mischievous grin at you. The day was spent looking through different shops, trying on different outfits together, but mainly just enjoying each other. It was like you could breathe in his scent and be instantly clamed by it.

You walked for hours together through in the sun. During that time, he managed to sneak your hands together, and you squeezed back. You had ended up in a meadow together, lying down. Stating that it was hot, he sat up and removed his striped head covering. It was a rare time when he let his hair cascade down over his shoulders. The sun immidently caught the vibrant stands making it shine and stand out in all the greenery. "Blue is such a rare color in nature." You watched with interest as he sent you a playful wink and gave you his bandana. "Safekeeping," he reasoned. But you felt happiness swarm inside your chest, knowing he was so at peace with you. You climbed into his warm body to rest, and his strong arms welcomed you.

♩In the morning, you would gone♩

You swallowed, hard. Remember hurt. Everything felt like a fever dream. But it was real, and you did live it. Bringing the bandana closer, you could see some blue strands still inside it. Quickly, you carefully scooped them up and placed them inside a little bag on your nightstand. Checking to see if there were any left, you were disappointed to find there weren't anymore. A bubble of hot air rose into your throat, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't push it back down. Everything became overwhelming once more. The memories of you and him together for hours.

♩I'd be mourning, tryin' to keep on

To the memory of your lips♩

One evening, the two of you sat together after dinner on the jolly roger.

Everyone was enjoying the calm and peace of the night. There was a pleasant hum in the air. You had long removed his gloves and were playing with his hands. He wore an assumed smile on his lips that reached to the eyes you loved so much. Leaning over, you gave them a quick kiss before returning to the task at hand. His chuckling brought you back to earth, and you looked up as he cupped your face gently in his hands.

Gazing back at each other, he ran his thumbs over the apple of your cheeks, smiling. GOD, HIS SMILE! His true, sexy, beautiful, genuine smile was just so full of life and love. It was the smile you swore to always have in your eyes. You both seemed to be aware of how close you were sitting. You left a soft peck on his nose that seemed to stir something inside him.

"Hm?" His eyes flicked back towards yours, silently begging for permission. You nodded, and he closed the proximity between you.

♩God, I'm so lovesick♩

In reality, you gasped for air as more choked sobs escaped your lips. Fuck that triggered another memory.

♩What have you done to me?♩

The first time you had gone on a date together was on that very ship with your crews trying to play cupid. It was a sweet gesture, honestly, he seemed more nervous than you. During the date, he took to popping his hands off at the wrists and making them dance on the table to amuse you. You laughed and wiggled your digits at the little performance before you.

Oh, your laugh.

He'd give anything to hear the pearl of your laughter. You grabbed his hands suddenly though, and stripped the gloves off them. They wagged the 'no, no, no' sign at you. "Pfft," you looked up at him, and he watched with curious interest. You tested his strength and even tried 'arm' wrestling, which he let you win at, of course. Finally, you press your lips in a gentle kiss on the back of both hands before returning them.

Looking up, he sat there frozen with his mouth agape. Never before had he been treated so gently. Your cheeks redden, and despite the shyness, you offered a loving smile to him.

"Why'd you do that, babydoll?" He grumbled and looked away, eyebrows furrowed. You scooted your chair over, and he immediately sat up ready to attend to you. You took his hands in yours and traced up the veins in his arms. Fuck how you loved this man's existence.

♩Let me in your atmosphere

Inching closer, but I fear

That I'll love so much, you'll slip away (mm, mm-mm)♩

"Well, when I'm with you, I forget how lonely I was. I don't feel like we're two people. I feel like I found the other half of my being. Our old names might as well be the names for your right hand, and my left."

Looking up at his firey eyes again, you're met with overwhelming emotion. He pulled the bottom of your chair closer before pulling you to sit in his lap. "I feel the same way about you, Y/n." You stay there, together, for a good while. Just two people with one heart in a loving embrace.

"Should we break that up?" "Nah, let them be."

♩Getting twisted in my head

Dreams are nightmares in my bed

Since the last night that I spent with you♩

You had been together for a few months now. That was before your love had gotten into trouble again. Arlong had heard about how close the pirate clown and straw hat kid had grown. Now, while you wouldn't say they were best buddies, they could work together and get along for your sake. Still, he had grown to respect certain aspects of Luffy and even began to speak to Shanks again.

Arlong didn't give a shit about that.

He wanted the map to the One-piece, and he was going to get it. You remembered that mourning when you awoke to the sounds of battle outside and noticed your captains engaged with the fish man. You raced to aid your friends while others boarded the ship in support.

You realized you were in the middle of a losing battle.

Arlong held up two cages with Nami and Buggy inside. "I will let you choose. The girl or the clown." He hissed looking at Luffy with a content smirk. Luffy frowned, he looked torn up, but you saw his eyes meet yours. You pointed to Nami and continued to sneak behind the monster of a man.

"I choose Nami!"

"Well, here she is!" The cage was thrown into the deck with razor-sharp attached. The attack was meant to kill Luffy but thankfully he was able to jump out of the way before trying to free Nami. Robin could only do so much and she and Boa tried to halt the man before them. For their sister's friend? They'd go to the ends of the earth for her.

A familiar gloved hand stopped you from going any further when you realized that it was pointing at something. The key! You used your ghost touch invisibility to pull it from Arlong's belt. Tossing the key into the open hand, you watched your love pick the lock open and pop out.

Screaming ensued, and some home was reassumed when you drew your blade to cut off one of Arlong's feet. The mammoth stumbled and halted any further attacks. "You little BITCH!" he swiped at you

Luffy couldn't be quick enough to save you.

♩When the gold rays fell on your skin

And my hair got caught in the wind♩

But a certain flashy fool could. You felt someone wrap their arms around you before deeply shuttering. You saw the familiar blue waves and knew who had saved you. "Hang tight, we might have to abandon ship." Cutting off Alrong's foot had given your crew the advantage point, with Luffy able to get the others to the emergency boats. However, this didn't stop as Arlong. He rushed forward, grabbing Luffy by the neck as he did with Zoro.

"HEY SHITHEAD!" Arlong looked up in time to see a flying boot kick him in the face. Several flying body parts were swarming him, allowing Luffy to slam his fist into Arlong's mouth. You took the opportunity to rush forward and slice off the purple outstretched hand. "ARRRAHHHH!"

Luffy could only pull you away as Arlong managed to grab hold of the clown's head. The rest of his body quickly came together. "You know knives won't work on me you fucking prick."

Arlong smiled as he dropped the blue sailor and used his remaining hand to reach into his pocket. He smiled cruelly before simply answering, "I know." He pulled something out that caused Nami to scream deafening.

And just like that, your love was gone.

♩The choir sang a melancholic hymn

(ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah)♩

Your captain is impervious to bullets the way your love was impervious to knives. Cold, hot pain flooded your chest as your eyes took in the scene before you. Your body couldn't move fast enough to keep up with your heart. Dashing under Arlong legs, you were able to reach your hand out to your love and see the fear in his green eyes vanish for one moment before he mouthed something and smiled.

Then, he hit the water with a violent splash.

The moments that followed were a blur. You saw him disappear under the waves, you heard your crew mates screaming for you, and you felt your knuckles go white as you clutched your blade hearing the deafening laughter in your ears again. You also heard the screams of horror when you turned, with a strength you didn't know you had and slashed upwards at the face of your tormenter. You heard something thud harshly toward the floor behind you.

Not one fucking thing mattered anymore. You jumped off the ship's edge into the water where you'd last seen him. Either fate wasn't on your side, or the ocean already laid its claim to him. Because the man you had grown to love was gone.

♩In the morning, you're not in my bed♩

You searched for hours until it was almost dawn again, and Zoro was finally able to pull you from the ocean. Your eyes were blood red from all the crying and seawater. Nami embraced you in her arms as the search boats anchored. She rubbed your back comfortingly, despite the ptsd behind her eyes. You choked out a sob, and whispered, "He has to be here."

"Y/n!"

You looked up quickly to find Luffy waving at you. He and Ussop climbed into your shared boat. He held something out for you. Taking it quickly, a silent cry emerged from your throat as you held the item tighter.

His oragane and white bandana that was still dry somehow. Your lips trembled, and you raised it to your face. It still smelled like him, but this time, it brought you no comfort. Your crew had finally reached shore, but you refused to leave the boat. Luffy was now the leader of another crew in the absence of their captain. So much had to be done.

♩I'll just sleep until I fall dead

To the memory of your lips♩

In the present time, you were fully crying in the little solace you had in your room. No sound could be heard, but then again, there was no one around to hear it. The man you loved was, gone. You couldn't even give him a proper burial.

At first, you refused to accept this. Saying that he always came back after trouble. But you saw where Arlong had shot him. How big the red circle in his chest bloomed, and you knew that there was no way he could've swam to safety.

You closed your eyes again and tried to take in the little air you had.

His eyes softened, and he spoke those words again. And he smiled, he smiled! He smiled like there was nothing wrong at all. Like he was about to take you to the bookstore again. Like he was about to embrace you with those arms again and show you how much he-

No. You couldn't keep doing this to yourself. The first few days, you refused to sleep. Now, it had caught up with you, and all you wanted to do was not wake up.

Every time you close your eyes, you see that face again.

You saw the man that swore an oath to you.

The man you thought you'd grow old with.

A man who you met at a bar by chance.

That very same man who used to stand on his head to make you laugh.

The man who made you feel whole and complete as much as you did to him.

Was gone.

♩"God, I'm so lovesick

What have you done to me?"♩

"Y/n?"

You sat up at the sound of Sanji's voice.

"You have to get ready now hon it's almost time." You could hear him placing a tray outside your door. Sanji knew you wouldn't eat. But he still made you something every day and filled your water pitcher.

"Thanks, I'll be out soon," you managed in your best voice. You shuffled into the bathroom and got cleaned up.

♩(Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah)

Ah-ah-ah-ah♩

You slide down under the water in your tub and lay there with your arms crossed. Nothing felt real, not the water, not the day, nothing.

Out of respect for you both, the crew had arranged a funeral on the water. You rose to get dressed in a black top and blue bell bottoms. You tied his bandana around your neck. He would've gagged at the use of boring black colors.

Hearing something shuffled outside your door you open it to see a single boxed gift. You look around before picking it up to inspect it. The note attached was in Zoro's handwriting.

"For one badass bitch,"

You opened it to see a jar with Arlong's nose.

♩Ah-ah-ah-ah (ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah)

Ah-ah-ah-ah♩

And the emotional dam broke as all the memories came flooding back. Your first time meeting, your first date, him opening up to you. Watching him perform and blow you kisses. You showing him your confident side. Kissing his nose and holding his face. Him carrying you through your walks when your legs got tired. Doing each other's make-up. Dancing together without any music, play fighting in the town square, announcing your relationship to your crew. Too many memories to relive in one moment. You kneeled down by the side of your bed and began to pray again. For his safe return and if not that, then his soul.

Another knock on the door broke your train of thought. Opening it, you saw Luffy and Nami standing there. "I know it's time," you whispered hoarsely. You took the jar with you and headed up the stairs onto the deck. The rest of the crew fell into step behind you.

♩Ah-ah-ah-ah (ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah)

Ah-ah-ah-ah♩

Glancing up, you saw everyone in the surrounding ships wearing their flashiest clothes. His crew was trying to stifle some tears of their own.

The next few moments were a blur as you thanked everyone and held the service. Finally, you held out the jar that contained Arlong's nose and lit it on fire before throwing it into the ocean. Behind you, Nami let out a sigh of relief.

You felt a strong hand on your shoulder as Zoro helped you away from the edge of the boat. Turning around, you were then faced with Luffy holding a handmade captain's hat out to you. "I can't lead them the way you could." You looked towards his crew and back towards your captain.

You gently lifted the hat from his hands and held it up for all to see before placing it over your head. There were cheers in every direction, and you smiled for the first time in days.

♩Ah-ah-ah-ah (ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah)♩

You looked back towards the water. The sun was rising full over the water now. Everyone has begun to celebrate the life of a one of a kind crazy clown, beautiful, clown.

"I love you too, Buggy."

I hope you all enjoyed! Please make sure to like and check out my other works! Of course I do not own the music or One-piece. The hand comment was inspired by Garnet from Steven Universe.

Copihue and yellow tulips: Symbols of doomed love and a tragic love that turns happy. The Copihue have a very good story behind them.

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oh-saints · 2 years ago

Text

sunshine becomes you (final)

Being a footballer means Martin possibly has every resources in his whim, and that includes obliterating the blurred lines between him and Eve.

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.7k

tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); unprotected sex

Note: i know i've made you guys as frustrated as Martin in the gif above so i'm putting you out of misery (#spoiler) and i hope you guys forgive me lolol but as usual, i happen to write this around dawn so ofc not beta-read yet. oh, and i'm changing the term solstrålen into solskinn (including in the prev parts) bcs it turned out google search failed me, thanks @multifamdomfan12 for correcting me! <3

Tags: my lovely loves @julianalvarez9 @formula1tina @okayline @mehrmonga @mrswhitethornbelikov @notleclerc @laurensficrecs @soccerwag9 <3<3

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

“I expect to see you again soon, dear Eve,” was the last words Martin’s mother muttered before she and the rest of the family boarded the car Martin had chartered to get them to the nearest tarmac.

With the glint on her eyes, Martin knew her mother meant what she said and he, frankly enough, didn’t think he’d be ready to face the day he had to break the news to her mother that Eve and him were no longer happening. Her mother seemed so delighted with Eve, utterly wishing deep down that Eve was already a part of their family by some sort of extension called marriage.

Doors were closed behind Eve, and suddenly Martin’s house was too humongous for the two of them. Instead of appreciating the big space, Eve hated the way the hollow silence that followed after. It was suffocating, to say the least, and Eve wanted to run away as soon as possible.

Martin noticed the uncomfortable shift Eve played between her right and left legs, indicating she was in an awkward situation, and Martin already hated the fact he needed to have a legit justification to have her in his arms without any fight.

To have her in his arms like they still had someone else to impress, but without having to put up the act.

But who was he to wish upon the stars when the object of all his desires repelled him the way mosquitoes repelled the hazardous substance men made to annihilate them?

Who was he to wish something too futile to happen?

“Let me get the car keys—”

“No need, Martin,” Eve wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around the living room in search for her totebag. “I can go home by myself.”

“Out of the question, Angel—”

“You should drop the pet name now,” Eve’s stern tone stopped Martin on his track. To say he was surprised was an understatement, and he wished he’d never seen the exasperated look in her eyes, for it was laced variously with emotions he’d rather not name. “No one’s around. No need to put up an act.”

“But…” At Eve’s outburst, Martin didn’t realise his arms fell helplessly on his sides. “That’s your name.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not what I’m talking about.”

For several, intense moments, neither of them did anything but to hold each other’s stare.

“Fine, Eve. Have it your way,” Martin finally conceded to the pressure because if there was one thing he couldn’t do well was holding grudges. Put Eve as the subject and Martin would be fucked twice over. “But you should let me explain something in return.”

An eye for an eye, Eve realised was what Martin’s modus operandi, so she nodded. Anything to get this agony done and over with, anything to free her of him. Her body and soul couldn’t take anymore of Martin she somehow fell in love with in the midst of this whole charade, knowing that version of Martin never existed in the first place.

“What is it?” She said as she looked up slowly to meet the oceanic blue eyes she had grown accustomed to, but she never expected those magical orbs to be right in front of her in a flash of a moment like a lightning struck.

Before she could register on anything, Eve felt the plush cushion of his lips closing down on hers, sealing her voice box from the world with a surge of desperation lingering in the upper and lower parts of his lips, and she was scared of what he asked of her behind the kiss.

She was afraid of what he asked of her, as he goaded her parted lips for a further access to the mouth he’d always loved for saying all the right and wrong things that made Eve as she was now. The smart, the funny, the witty Eve.

She was terrified of what he asked of her, as she lost herself in the mortifying pleasure of having him traced the inside of her cavern with his tongue while tracing the curves outside with his hands, and before she knew it herself, he’d pinned her into the nearest wall, his hands holding hers up in a lock on top of her head.

She was frightened that, despite her fastened hands, she felt liberated this time around—and maybe Martin had liberated them both with the kiss—because everything felt so right in this moment.

Because while she was now familiar with his lips on hers now, Martin had never poured his body and soul and everything of his existence into a kiss. This was new, and this was raw, and Eve was so overwhelmed by the sensation because only now did she realise this was Martin—all of him, bared to her, desperate to cling on whatever’s left of her that he’d come to love.

This was real.

“Ask me something I never do.”

Eve gasped as she felt the pad of Martin’s thumb wiped away a streak of tear running down her face. She really should tell Martin it was out of happiness now. “Martin—”

“Ask, Angel.”

Another trail of waterworks escaped Eve as Martin’s eyes stared down at her intently, yet somehow so… forlorn. She never wished any of this to happen to either of them, least Martin of all people—the one who’d brought back her dignity the night of Christmas Gala. “What’s something you never do, Martin?”

“I never pretend when I’m around you,” Martin whispered the words against the pair of lips he’d come to love so much, for both the taste and the sensation that came with it, and Eve could feel the desperation lingered in the small space of air between them; of not being able to kiss her, not before she understood his points of elaboration, not before she had all her questions answered. “I’ve always kissed you the way I want to, having audience or not. I don’t care if anyone else sees us or it’s only between us just like right now.”

“But you’re pretending to be my boyfriend at the—”

“You think I was pretending but I never say anything about me pretending from the beginning, Angel,” His eyes reflected immense anguish, yet his words resonated with truth and determination, and Eve’s head was spinning beyond belief. “So I never have. Everything I do whenever I’m with you is within my purest intention and everything I say to you is my outmost honesty.”

It took Eve a full 5 seconds to digest everything, thanks to Martin’s intoxicating scent that was able to short-circuit her brain. “So the gala wasn’t a sham.”

“It never was for me, at least.”

“But it’s your idea to do that.”

“It’s my one and only crazy idea so I can get closer to you,” Martin rested his forehead on hers gently, in hope she could see what he was trying to convey; that he was tired of this charade as much as she was, especially when they were fooling themselves by denying everything that could’ve been between them. “It’s the only way I know how.”

“You used my desperation to—”

“Yes, but I don’t regret a thing,” Now Martin was truly wearing his heart on his sleeve. Eve never said about not giving a fight to him, and he’d expected that. “I don’t regret anything I do with you, and I’m sure I never will. Call me selfish but I was desperate, too, at that time so you can see me.”

Still, it hurt Martin the same every time Eve’s head moved back inches more than the distance he’d managed to claimed before. “But if you never pretend around me, you must’ve absolutely despised to see me every day.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You never reply whenever I say good morning.”

“So ask, Angel,” Martin’s hands headed south and back to cradle her face like she was a fine china—and for him, it felt that way, for how precious she was to him—and his thumb caressed out the crumpled lines between her eyebrows ever so softly. “Ask me why I never reply your good morning.”

“What?”

“Ask me why I never reply your good morning, Angel,” The Norway’s youngest captain repeated, and Eve was relieved when he reached up to her forehead to place a featherlight kiss on the same spot where her crease of confusion appeared, for she couldn’t stand another second of Martin looking down on her as if his world would end the moment she said anything that implied no to him. “No matter how much I want to give in.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to have to end with her asking the one thing she’d been dying to know but the way Martin’s lips tickled her skin and the way he inhaled the scent lingering from the shampoo she donned earlier… she’d choose this over breaking the fragile bubble they were in. “Did you hate them?”

“I abhorred them, Angel,” And there he was—Martin was back gazing down at her, and gone was the gentle but miserable captain that was hanging his sanity on a thread. He’d returned with force under his arsenal yet this time, Eve wasn’t intimidated like the last time she’d encountered this side of Martin. “I hate them because it reminds me that you treat me like everyone else,”

And Eve couldn’t hold back her stupefied gasp.

“I thought I made it obvious on my first day that I’m so… enamoured by you,” It was tragic to Eve that Martin was spewing every of these meaningful words about reality he’d been living with a smile that was anything but, and it took away her joy from the fact that this was real and she wasn’t hallucinating that she thought this was real. That she wasn’t the only one who wanted this to be real. “But you certainly think I’m just being friendly to you when in reality, it’s not it, and I hate it so much,”

And Eve vowed, as well as shooting upon the stars, that she didn’t have to see that bitter, artificial smile ever again.

She didn’t waste another breath to pull Martin down to her, capturing his lips in a deep kiss—so deep she had to close her eyes in contentment, and a sigh escaped her lips. The huffed air was Martin’s sign to ask for entrance, and she granted him the entire access to her body and soul the way he’d bared his earlier, and the clash of tongue was a rather welcomed reaction, along with the messy movements of their hands finding each other’s available exposed skin.

“Please tell me I didn’t mess up my chances with you yet,” While one hand was resting on the nape of Eve’s neck, the other one was tucking away the strands of her hair to the back of her ear. His eyes were roaming from the hair, to her eyes, to her lips, and Martin had to close the gap between them once more because he couldn’t help himself. “I’m so afraid I’ll fuck up and I lose you again before I know it.”

“Just don’t put me through such thing again.”

Eve didn’t have to open her eyes to know Martin was hiding his smile behind the smouldering look he granted her—a slight movement of his lips against the rim of hers was all it took for her—before he closed the gap between them with nips on the corners of her lips, the cupid bow, her nose, and finally landed perfectly back on the middle of her lips, claiming the gate of his existence once more like he never left her bereft.

And to be graced by the silent proclaim was Eve’s honour, for she had never felt an abundance of emotion from deep within of one’s self unlike any other from Martin. Should anyone catch them in their current position, it would be palpable for anyone to see that Eve was close to liquefying herself into a shape only Martin could mould of her, in only ways Martin could forge. Her lips were beyond repairable from the nibbles left on the trail every time the blonde man changed his course to devour her to the very last taste, her garments were beyond salvaging from the harsh movements that reminded her of the captain’s passion on the pitch and yet she welcomed the crude touches full of desperation on her skin.

She was exposed for anyone nearby to see, being the most daring she’d ever been in presence of someone else and her mirror at home, yet she felt so secluded and secured in Martin’s arms, for his body engulfed hers in ways she knew he wouldn’t compromise her dignity—to anyone, even to him.

Her head was busy configuring as to how Martin could orchestrate everything she was feeling like it was second skin to him but she should’ve known better. The moment she lost herself into his touches and was only brought to Earth when his hands grazed her bosom and only teasingly passed by the core of her heat, just to settle one of her leg on his waist, that Martin Ødegaard was truly living up his moniker of the maestro.

No one could’ve played her frustrations down to being close to a string left like he could, no one would’ve played the sanity she was hanging by a thread the way Martin did, and managed to get away with it unscathed of wrath. Yet, Eve was nothing but a puddle of mess under his subtle dominant.

“Martin, please…”

Her moans, masked by broken gasps, were enough for Martin to take her away from the poor plastered wall. Not because he didn’t want to take her against the wall—partly because he wanted only the best for her, partly because there was another time for that—but because he knew if they’d become undone right here, right there, he wouldn’t have the energy to hold them together. He knew they’d be sensational together, conjoined in the hips and lower in an earth-shatteringly manner, and he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like, despite being an athlete.

And he knew, as he lied her against the white faux material of the rug he’d immaculately placed in front of the fire place in this wintry weather, with the faint yellow glow casted on her face and her refined, soft silks of hair strands behind her, that his decision was proven better than he thought it would be.

Eve had never looked so ethereal, and he couldn’t believe this goddess-like being was now captured under him, helpless against the arms locking her sides—his angel, his fallen angel.

“Hello there, my angel,” Martin peered down at her, nuzzling his nose against hers, and Martin Ødegaard was unequivocally enraptured by the bedazzling smile she granted him at the gentle gesture, and he hadn’t even begun the ministration of what he had in mind. “You fit perfectly in my arms,”

And he was truly a goner by the way she was giggling—how much he’d been missing that gleeful sound without the constraint of a mere fake couple play between them—as he settled his nose deeper to the crook of her neck, sniffing Eve’s signature parfum she liked to spray along the length of her neck, while his fingers ran down the outer sides of her arms. The ticklish feeling was what probably enticed the melodious sound of her carefree laugh, her true carefree laugh, not the one he was used to hearing paraded around the London Colney for mere courtesy.

But Martin was something else altogether when Eve let out unrestricted whines as his nose and lips pursued the track downwards, from the neck to the open space of her chest, against the space between her ample breast, on the small space under the mound, across her ribcage. So uncalled for, especially for the effects those sinful sounds imposed on his cock. So dirty, so disgusting, yet he yearned for more.

Thus, explaining his bold move further down south.

Just as he was peppering kisses against the inner parts of her thighs, Eve arched in the ways that could put half-moon to shame, with her agape mouth and breathless pants as her hands were practically flailing to find the most stable ground to help herself, only to end up with plucking the faux material with one hand and another one gripping his shirt for life.

She sat up at the sudden realisation Martin was yet discarded from his clothes, and he stopped his deliverance at her movement. “What’s wrong?”

Eve didn’t say anything verbally but her hands lifting up the colour that complimented his skin very well said it all. Martin halted her rushing hands effectively, like he did hers when they were pushed up against the wall a bazillion years ago. “Oh no, my love. Tonight’s about you.”

Eve couldn’t hide the shivers that ran down all over the body at both the newfound nickname—and she loved being called by nicknames Martin found suitable for her—and the intonation he used to cover his obvious intention.

Martin sat back up on his knees, and the sight of him shedding his shirt was certainly something that would haunt her for days and days after today, especially when he had to be away for his job. Realising Eve was ogling at him, Martin laughed unreservedly for the first time since the both of them scrapped off the last bits of their shitty acting withstanding.

“Oh, shut up, Martin,” and the man could certainly get used to being pulled down by the woman who’d never vanished from the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to erase her. She kissed the way she looked; sun-blazingly hot with passion and fierceness like she wouldn’t see the light of the day tomorrow, and he could feel the last restrain of himself melted away as her hands travelled down his chest, his ribs, his well-built abdomen.

“I like this,” Eve traced down the sixpack line stretched across his midriff, her movement so gentle yet it constricted the muscle tighter than the workout machines at the gym. “Don’t show it off to anyone else.”

“Say you’re mine and it’s all yours to see, Angel,” Eve looked up to the man towering her, covering her against the moon wanting to peek at the moment they’d been dying to have, and Martin almost came undone at how innocent she looked, face held in his hands, in contrast to how devious her fingers were at. “It’s always been you.”

Eve didn’t need further reassurance to pull him down to her, crashing their lips together in ways that reminded her of waves crashing against the solid rock on the edge of the ocean. His lips were showering her with cold water against the warmth of hers, and hers were pouring him calmness against the sun. Yin and yang found each other, at last, and they both moaned at the sensation the both of them had been liberated at best from whatever holding them down.

They were floating on the rough waters, so high in each other’s frustrated and desperate kisses to find solace in each other’s undone, but nothing could compare to the moment the lovers were fully, entirely intertwined with each other. Eve felt so full of Martin, and she wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Martin had to control his breath, just as what his trainers told him to do on the pitch ironically enough, as he felt Eve welcoming him with the warmest hug he could ever receive from someone, both inside and out. He couldn’t help himself but pull her closer to him, flushed against him, every air making their way in between them was something he considered a disturbance.

“Oh, Martin,” Her breathing was ragged, so did Martin’s, and it pushed Martin to drive her closer to the edge. “You feel so good against me.”

At her words, he went the deepest he could plunge himself into the sweetest hellhole that was Eve, and her body went tighter, inside and out he could see veins almost bulging out against her temple. She was halfway there; he could see it in her gaze, in what he could make out of her extremely flushed cheeks. Who was he to grant delayed gratification to her?

“Say you’re mine, mitt solskinn,” One touch against the swollen, pretty clit of hers, and she slowly peaking her highs. She was so beautiful, chasing her release under his touch as he pounded himself into her relentlessly for his own end, despite the dirty, slick mess she was making against his hands. She panted his name like a prayer, and it delighted him to no end that he was the only one who could provoke such a sensuous siren. “No more denying between us, Angel.”

“I’m yours, Martin Ødegaard,” and he felt that down to the bones as he’d reached his high at her words, like the passcode to his own ending, and as the morning came lazily upon them, he’d never felt as whole as that moment. Although he’d had Eve in his arms countless times before, because he now knew that despite the stormy weather outside, he’d always have his sunshine shining brightly in his arms, beaming radiantly as she whispered, good morning, baby.

Martin didn’t have anything else to respond her but to give her the same blinding smile—the biggest he could muster, anyway, which was still pale in comparison to the force in his arms, settling well like a little spoon she was.

“You really lost against me.”

The once-wonderkid could only laugh at her comment. You could count on Eve for her smart mouth. “Well, if this is what losing feels like, I really don’t mind at all.”

“That’s it?” Eve had to pull her head back from the tight cocoon they were sharing, and she absolutely wouldn’t complain to wake up to those clear blue Nordic eyes every day. “Where does your whole athlete competitiveness go?”

“You feel like my biggest victory anyway.”

Because sunshine has become Eve.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊THE END＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

and that concludes my first ever (mini) series! wow, i didn't think this was possible in any way so thank you, to each and every single one of you, who's spared your time to read the entire series and even left comments on the posts. i hope i didn't disappoint you midway or in anyway. bcs really, if i could hug you guys rn, i would so i'm just gonna send loves to you guys ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and see you on the next one!

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