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bks-writing-adventures · 4 months ago

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His Strong Girl (Aemond X Strong! Reader)

Warnings: Brief mentions of bullying and gore, brief mentions of sex, Alicent being a momzilla.

Word Count: 6.5 K

Summary: Aemond has always loved his Strong Girl, she's nearly of age to mary, and he wants her before anyone else can have her.

120 AC

As children, Aemond had always loved her. Even though he knew that he should not. His mother filled his brain with poison, to hate Rhaenyra and all that was part of her, and that included her children. The Strong children, all four of them. It was easy to hate Jace and Luke. They teased him. They found him a pig and called him the second son. They laughed at him and kept them out of their fun. They were kind to the other children in the court, but for reasons he could not understand, he was different. It was so hard on his young brain. He was all that he was supposed to be. H

e could read and write, he had light hair and light eyes. He always prayed at dinner time, and he always wore clean clothes, always had his hair brushed. He did all of his lessons. So what ever could be wrong with him? When Joffrey came along, it was easy to hate him, too. There was no doubt that he would grow into the sculpting hands of his older brothers. As soon as he would talk, he would be name calling and lying too. But when it came to her. Well, it was impossible.

Her eyes were warm and kind, muddy brown like her brothers and her father. There was a small distance of age between them, a year and a half, but he could hardly tell. She was smart for her age. She was not puzzled by her lessons, and she listened well, could smile and nod. She cut her own food and lived in her own world. He kept his distance for a long time, whenever the whole family was forced together for weddings and funerals. But slowly, like butter beneath rays of sun, he warmed. He grew calm in her presence and peeled back his layers to be vulnerable.

To meet her in the library when she was in her pyjamas, and to whisper gossip that they had picked up in the halls. He had two sides of him. The side that hated the Strongs, and the side that loved. He was good at making sure they did not cross, that was, until the day his aunt died. He never knew much of her. He knew that she was pretty and powerful and rode the greatest dragon in the world. But he did not cry for her. He only stayed quiet as the respects were paid, and his eyes wandered the mourners for her.

She was caught up between her brothers and their cousins. Black looked odd on her. She always wore pink or blue, maybe red, but hardly ever. Despite being half Targaryen, she had no like for the color. She was all about pastels and ruffles and frilliness. He frowned as he watched, and the feet between them felt like miles. As the group looked over to him, he offered an awkward grin, only to be returned with nothing. His heart sunk deeper into his body, and he tried to give her a light wave, to grab her attention.

But there was nothing he could do, and he could feel her slowly slipping from his fingers. Disappointment ate away at him, and he said nothing to her the entire day. And she made no effort to talk to him, either. And so when evening came and he was alone, with no gossip to speak of in the library, and no puzzles to put together, he found himself in the dragon pit. Tiptoeing carefully, listening to the snore of beasts who had survived all of the worlds wars. The scratch of their claws against stone, and finally, the hiss of fire as it nearly caressed his face.

The sight of Vhagar was one unmatched, and he moved as though he were being controlled, a mere puppet of the gods as he slowly climbed the scaly creature. He screamed into the wind as it lapped at his hair, and he laughed with joy as they landed with a thump and a roar. All that he was missing in his life was against his palms, and his skin burned with the leather of the saddle. His heart had gone above the clouds, and it hadn’t come down, even as his shaky feet hit the floor, a smile bigger than he had ever worn stretched across his face as he moved to scurry away and back to bed.

He would tell his mother in the morning. She would be so proud. But fate had something else brewing for him, and he was met with the sight of his nephews and his cousins. He clung to the words he had heard from his mothers lips, and he threw them mindlessly as fists collided in the air. He did not remember half of it. And he did not know when it would end, gripping blindly at whatever he could find. A stone the size of his foot, lifting it above his head quickly, every one of his cells begging him to go through with the action. It could have only been a second, maybe not even.

From the moment he saw the dagger in his little nephews hand, he knew that this was all over. This temporary shot of joy, and it died like a flame to ash as blood soaked his hand. He couldn’t hear his scream, but he could feel it deep in his lungs as he smacked against the ground, clawing at it. He shouted profanities as the guards dragged him to the maesters. He stared at his mothers face, and he sat still as he was surrounded by all of his family. And as he prayed for comfort, he was met with only fighting.

Shouting back and forth between his mother and sister, his father was of no help, and every other moment he was stabbed with a needle, his mouth curling at the feeling as his nails scratched against the armrest of the chair. He knew the eye was gone, but seeing it laying broken in a dish like the bad parts of a chicken. It broke him, and he stared at the wall as blood hit the floor, and when he was finally asked where he had heard the words he shouted, he stared at his mother. Her brows were furrowed, a deep crevasse in the middle. Her brown eyes were shining with a mix of sadness and fury, a touch of fear as she looked over at him. He swallowed his pain and spoke a lie.

“Aegon.” He whispered out, and shut his eye for the rest to come. The last thing he remembered of that night was the look on her face, and the way her fingers curled, as if she wished to reach out and touch him, only to be quickly whisked away by Rhaenyra and Daemon. That was the night he decided his mother was right about them. All of them. Even his sweet, Strong girl. Because if she were truly strong, she would have come to him. Despite their orders, she would’ve comforted him. But instead, he was alone. Alone and scarred.

127 AC

When he learned that his sister and her bastard children would be coming to his home, he tried his best to act as normal as he could. He ate his breakfast of pork and eggs, sharpened his sword and trained with Ser Criston. He ignored the groans of his brother, and watched quietly as his sister bounced her babies on her legs. He could almost smile. But he knew exactly how the children came to be. And if Aegon were not his brother, Aemond would have his head on the wall. Dread grew in his stomach as the sun reached its peak, and he hit against Criston’s sword with the ferocity of a thousand men. With every strike, he thought of the night he lost his eye. He thought of the dagger against his skin, the way he was treated so coldly, and how she had done nothing. And every night after that he felt as though he were frozen, reliving the moment over and over. He could feel the pain in his cheek and forehead with every twitch in his lips.

Soon, the Prince promised he would stop smiling altogether, because maybe then, the pain would stop. And so when he saw his nephews, he stared them down, like a wolf to a rabbit. He liked to watch their discomfort, but his gaze, much to his distaste, softened when he caught sight of her behind them. She had grown beautiful with the years that had passed. Her once chubby cheeks were still round and flushed from the cool air, and her brown curls were pulled back by pins. She wore a pink gown that leaned toward purple, a bit dusty in its tone, covered in small swirls and patterns that he could not process from where he stood. His sweet girl. Her eyes were large, and freckles covered her. He didn’t remember her ever having freckles before, and it took Criston’s voice to break him from his trance.

“You will be ready for the tourneys in no time, My Prince,” the Knight spoke, to wish he scoffed.

“I do not give a shit about tourneys,” He responded, his voice quiet and cold. He did not see the pint in galloping around on a horse, fighting other men and yelling like animals, all for the attention of ladies that were as shallow as a tide pool. No. He would save himself for her, if she would have him. And he was certain she would.

“Nephews, have you come to train?” He asked, his voice louder than before, brows raised. Jace turned to look at his younger brother, and their faces paled. They were afraid, and the thought made Aemond’s heart fill with joy. He threw his sword to the dirt for his men to pick up later.

“And what of you, niece?” He asked, turning his head to look at her. Jace moved his shoulder to create a wall between them, but it did nothing for her curious eyes. She simply stood on her tiptoes, looked at him, and smiled. The sight brought a smirk to his lips, and when he walked to his chambers, he did so with a newfound confidence. He was quick to change into his outfit for the evening, one that covered every inch of his body, not even his wrists exposed. It made him feel better. As if it hid everything under. As if he were not still the runt of the litter. Even with all his training, he could never seem to grow.

He would always be the smallest of his kin, but what he lacked in size, he could make up for in skill. He could hardly wait for the evening meal. He was not hungry, but he was thrilled. To see her, to tease her. And maybe, if he were lucky, she would meet him in the library like old times. As he paced back and forth, he practically counted down the minutes until the sun finally fell. He groaned as they gathered for yet another meeting, but he could put up with it, if it meant seeing her.

She stood beside her mother, and it was only then that he could see a hint of resemblance between them. They had the same way of standing, and they were close in height. They shared a curved nose and a cunning gaze, but she only wore it softer. She had not yet seen violence, she had not watched the light fall from a mans eyes. She had not yet lost a love, and he could see her smile softly as the betrothals of her brothers were announced. He relished in the way that she nudged her brothers and gave them a teasing raise of brow before she remembered her surroundings, trying to return to her previously serious demeanor.

A smile pulled at his lips, and his eye narrowed as he stared at her, compelling her to look up at him. Please. He thought to himself, feeling his heart leap as their eyes met. She was just so beautiful. But the peace of her gaze was quickly broken when Vaemond began to speak of their heritage, and Aemond watched in displeasure as her brows furrowed, as her big eyes stared at the floor in shame.

The others, he could smile at. But to see her caught in the fight, to see her be called names.

It disgusted him. His back stiffened, and he bit his tongue. He would have plenty of time to speak to her later, to hold her in the years to come, to fuck the bastardy out of her. But he would have to wait. His hands curled in on themselves, and in a fraction of a moment, Vaemond was gone. His head hit the floor with a sloppy thump, Helaena turned away, her eyes huge and her hands on her head, and he watched as his Strong Girl practically mirrored her, her thumbs pressed against her ears and her fingers over her eyes. He sighed, staring at the body on the floor, his gaze slowly following the bloody sword until he was gazing at his uncle. Daemon. An interesting man he was. And slowly, Aemond smiled. This would be an interesting night.

When dinner time came, he took his seat and looked at the rest of the table. Baela and Rhaena, Rhaenyra and Daemon, and next to them, there she was. He smiled a little to himself. They always did that, sitting around her like a human shield, practically hiding her from his view. He followed his mothers words as she called for prayer, and he smiled to himself as his mother spoke of Vaemond Velaryon. The old man could never shut his mouth. The food came out in small rounds, starting with potatoes and bread, and he gazed at her as he licked the remnants of potato from his thumb.

Her eyes were so big, and he loved watching her cheeks get nice and flushed. And even more, he loved seeing how angry her brothers got, all while her mother remained clueless. When the main course came out, he stared in silence as the roasted pig sat in front of him. He could tell how this was going to go, lifting his head to stare right at Luke, seeing the beginning’s of a smile on his mouth. His hands curled into fists, and just as he moved to stand, she spoke. “Luke. Do not be impolite,” She whispered softly. She was soft and sweet, but she had such a bold presence to her when she wanted it.

“But-” Luke began, and she gently shook her head. “Eat your carrots. Mother said to be on our best behavior,” She said softly, reaching over to start cutting his soft boiled carrots up. Aemond frowned, slowly leaning back. He had so much anger to release, and no real reason to release it. She was a gem, that girl. She could so easily diffuse a situation. She was the type of woman that she be on the throne. They could share it together, one day. As the evening grew old and their stomachs were full, the music began to flow delicately on the harps. As soon as he saw Jace’s eyes brighten, he stood, walking around the table like a shark circling a helpless seal, placing his hands on the back of her chair.

“Aemond,” His mother spoke up, her voice filled with caution as she sat up straight. “Do not worry, mother. I only wish to know if my lovely, strong girl wants to dance with me,” He responded, his fingertips moving across her curls. Rhaenyra bit her cheek, and he could feel the tension growing like a cage.

“I dare you to say that again,” Jacaerys spoke, his hands flat on the table.

“Brother,” She said softly, gazing back at him. Their eyes met for nearly ten seconds, and finally, he looked away. “I will dance with you,” She spoke, pulling her chair from the table and gently taking his hand. “If you promise not to stomp on my toes,” She says, teasing him a little as he pulled her to the stone tiles.

“I will do my very best,” He whispered, his hands curling around hers. Her touch was so delicate, and he found himself taking a small whiff of her wrist. Raspberries and cashews. It was a unique scent, but it was hers. He wanted to bathe in it, paint it onto his pillow. “I have missed you,” He said softly. And he had. He often found himself dreaming of the possibilities. Of bringing Vhagar to her bedroom window. Of taking her to the skies and bringing her to the forest, where they were not a Prince and a Princess, but only teenagers in love. “You will be a woman grown soon,” He said softly, his thumbs rubbing circles into her palms as he spun her under his arms. It would only be eight months before they were the same age, and it was only eight months before she would finally be on the marriage market. He just had to make his claim before anyone else could.

“I know,” She said softly, her fingers trailing to the cuffs on his wrist, touching the golden dragons with her gentle strokes. “I feel as though I was 9 only yesterday,” She mumbled, and he smiled in return.

“Tell me about it,” He mumbled, his hands moving down to her waist, his touch gentle. His eye wandered to the necklaces she wore, the ones that layered. The shortest was to her collarbone, and the longest was just between her breasts. A seahorse. A Velaryon symbol, something that didn’t belong to her, and they all knew it. His fingers slowly wandered to it, his thumb rubbing against the emerald eyes and the golden details. “This is a symbol of your fathers house, is it not?” He asked softly. His fingers slowly wandered up to cup her face, his fingers against her jaw, licking his lips.

“It is a symbol of the sea,” She said quietly, and he could see the turmoil in her eyes. He could feel the gaze of his family on him, and he knew they would not be pleased. But his mother was simply delighted, a scheming smile on her face.

“You like the sea, my lady?” He mumbled softly. They were hardly dancing anymore, he was just holding her close, holding her face, his thumb pressing against her lips.

“Who does not?” She asked softly, smiling a bit. She was always so sweet when she spoke of the sea, and he could see so much excitement in his eyes.

“I must admit, I have never had great love for it. Smells of salt and dying fish, and sand simply gets everywhere, the seagulls chase me,” He mumbles, making her laugh a little, brows raised in amusement.

“Perhaps they just like the look of you,” She said, and he smiled, head tilted.

“Is that what you think?” He asked.

“Well, if I were a seagull, I would go for you. Your hair would make a good nest,” She teases, making his eye roll. “But truly, you must be going to the worst spots. I have missed Kingslanding. The shores are beautiful,” She says. His heart thumped, and he found himself gazing into her eyes.

“Then you should stay,” He responded softly, leaning a little closer. It was hard to remember that they were surrounded, and that they were not the only people in the world.

“And how would I go about that?” She asked softly.

“You could marry me,” He spoke softly, and the whole room went silent, the notes on the harp fading out. Her brows raised, and she looked like she might giggle. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, blinking slowly.

“You do not mean that,” She said softly.

“Oh, but I do. You would be so happy here.” He mumbled, pushing some falling curls behind her ears, whispering gently against her skin.

“Wait for me, will you?” He mumbled. Her face flushed, and he could practically feel her heart pounding beneath her skin. She was about to speak, but the doors opened and cakes began to roll out, small cups of pudding, trays of lemon cakes and cookies.

“(Y/N), come sit,” Rhaenyra called, and she gazed up at Aemond for a moment, as if trying to speak, but nothing would come out. Slowly, they parted, moving to go back to their seats. Her cheeks were so warm, and she prayed that no one else could tell under the warm light of the candles. Immediately, Rhaenyra leaned toward her, searching her face for discomfort.

“What did he say to you?” She asked, noting the odd look of.. Something on her daughters face. It wasn’t fear, and it wasn’t discomfort. She just couldn’t place that expression.

“Nothing, mother,” She said softly. All eyes were on her, and Daemon wore a smirk like a man would wear a crown.

“I believe she has feelings for the boy,” He whispered, making Rhaenyra’s eyes widen. She looked disgusted, for a brief moment, but she quickly hid her distaste, blinking it away as she took lemon cakes onto her plate.

“We will talk about this later,” She said quietly, plucking the sweetened lemons from the top of the cake and placing one in her mouth. Daemon reached over and took the cake itself. They had a system. She would eat the fruits, and he would eat the parts she did not want. Meanwhile, she reached for a cookie, breaking it into small pieces on her plate, trying her best not to look at Aemond. She could tell that he was getting the same treatment on his side of the table, a knowing smile on his face as his mother shook his arm, trying to juice information out of him. He only chuckled to himself, taking a few sips of his wine. When the dinner finally ended, she was a blushing mess as she followed her mother, looking over her shoulder to see Aemond going in the other direction, a silent agreement in their eyes. They would see each other in the library tonight. As she took her bath, all she could think of was him.

Him and his offer, and the more she thought of it, the more she smiled. She trusted him more than she ever could a stranger. And she began to think of how she could convince her mother to let it happen. She trusted that Aemond would never hurt her. Maybe men that acted out of their place, maybe annoying nephews at the dinner table, but never her, and she was confident in that. And perhaps the marriage could bring the family together. Rhaenyra had wanted Jace to marry Helaena, after all. She did have a desire for the families to mix. That was it. That would be her selling point. “Some time alone, please?” She asked the maids as they scrubbed her body and hands.

“Of course, Princess,” They responded, quickly leaving. She sighed softly, ringing out her loofa as she looked at the mirror. Perhaps if she had children with Aemond, they would come out with white hair. Maybe they would have a better life than her. Her eyes then wandered to her seahorse necklace, and she remembered her father, before his death. Her life had been an odd one. She felt like she had a new father every couple of years, and in truth, she had. She had the father who’s seed she grew from, who taught her how to count and tucked her into bed during his shifts on the nightwatch.

She had the father who taught her how to fish, and which shells made the best necklaces, and which crabs were dangerous. And then she had the father that taught her to be bold, the one who married her mother the day after his own wife died. That had been a tough one, and in truth, she still was not warmed to Daemon. She did not like the way he treated her precious mother, and she swore to herself that she would never have a marriage like theirs. When she was finally dried of her bath, she looked out to the stars.

She looked for her favorite constellations, and she smiled as she remembered the library in the Red Keep. It was beautiful and large and full of enough books to last a lifetime. She was quick to get into her pyjamas, and even quicker to open her door, looking up at her guard.

“Excuse me,” She said softly, stepping out. “Are you going somewhere, Princess?” He asked, a look of confusion on his face. He had a long beard, and she was sure he had seen him before.

“Yes,” She answered, making her way down the corridor without saying anything else. She made her way as quiet as she could to the library, passing a rat or two that made her heart jump. That was something that she had hated about the Red Keep. There was nothing on the windows, so animals would come and go as they pleased. She much preferred mice over rats. Something about their tails tickled her brain in the worst of ways. When she finally did reach the library, her eyes searched for him, and she felt disappointment rising in her like steam when she could not find him. Perhaps she had gotten the wrong message. Maybe she made up the language of the eyes. But she would not waste her trip, beginning to pick out a book or two on constellations and The Moon and The Tides.

“You didn’t think I forgot, did you?” His voice made her jump, and she gripped her skirt as her eyes searched for him. “So close, my little doe. Look down,” He spoke, and when she did, she found him hiding under one of the tables in a pile of blankets. She smiled, crouching.

“Are you hiding?” She asked softly. She couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but she could feel warmth radiating from him.

“I am not hiding. I simply wanted to see how long it would take to find me,” He responded, reaching for her hand and pulling her down. This was much easier when they were kids, but now he was longer than the table, and the needed more pillows.

“So you have just been watching me walk around aimlessly?” She teased, making him nod.

“Oh, of course,” He spoke softly, his hands finding her cheeks, squishing them gently. “I want to speak with my sister,” He mumbled softly, pulling her closer until her belly was against his chest. “I will not marry you until I get her permission,” He said softly. She nodded softly, leaning her cheek against his chest. She could hear his heart racing, and she smiled at the feel of the vibrations.

“I did not take you for the type to want Mommy’s blessing,” She mumbles, making him scoff.

“I know better than to take away her little girl. She owes me this much, for all that has been done to me,” He spoke, and her hand slowly made its way up to his eyepatch.

“I am sorry that I said nothing that night,” She mumbled, and he softened against her touch.

“You were only a child,” He said quietly.

“As were you. None of us deserved all that has happened to us. If it is any help, I stole Luke’s desserts for a week,” She mumbled gently.

“Ah, yes. That is the most appropriate punishment,” He teased, making her roll her eyes.

“I did what I could.” She speaks, her lips brushing against his forehead, placing a small kiss there. A bit of his hair got into her mouth, and he squirmed, making him chuckle.

“Are you trying to make a nest of my hair?” He asked, recalling their earlier conversation.

“Oh hush.” She mumbled, curling up into him. Neither of them meant to fall asleep, but it was just so warm and comforting, and slowly, they fell into a slumber, feet sticking out of their fort. When they woke, it was to yells so loud they thought someone was killed. Both sat up far too quick, smacking the tops of their heads against the wooden tables. In shame, they crawled out quickly, her eyes big as she stared up at both of their mothers.

“What is the meaning of this?” Rhaenyra asked. She sounded so angry, but her eyes were not on her daughter, they were on Aemond, her lips pressed into a fineline.

“We were having a sleepover,” He said simply. “You know what that is like, don’t you sister? Didn’t you used to have sleepovers with your friends quite frequently?” He asked. He couldn’t speak without being antagonistic.

“Aemond!” She and Alicent exclaimed at the same time.

“Mother, please. I promise it was nothing. We were only speaking,” She said softly, eyes on the floor as she was pulled closer, her face and neck inspected for marks. “We just wanted to do as we used to as children, that is all,” She said softly. Rhaenyra slowly calmed, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“He did nothing to you?” She asked.

“Of course not. Aemond would never hurt me,” She spoke, feeling Aemond’s hand moving to her shoulder.

“That much is true,” He spoke. “Sister, it has been a long time since we have spoken face to face,” He said, his eyepatch on the floor, having fallen off in his sleep. He wanted her to look at him in full, to see all that he had become.

“That it has,” Rhaenyra spoke, her face void of emotion.

“You know that I love your daughter. That has never been a secret. Do not deny her happiness because of one misunderstanding.” He said, making Rhaenyra’s face slowly fall. Her eyes looked to Alicent, as if she had any part in this. She simply shrugged, mouth parted.

“What are you saying, Aemond?” She asked her youngest son.

“I am saying that I wish to unite our families. I will marry (Y/N).” He spoke, leaving no room for discussion. Rhaenyra stared blankly at the pair. She had wished to stop the resentment between the families, and this would be the perfect way. But she could not bear the thought of her daughter staying here, alone with him, with them. She knew that (Y/N) would marry one day, but she just didn’t realize how soon that would be. But as she saw her daughters smile, and the hope in her eyes, she just could not say no. “Very well.” She spoke after a moment, letting out a deep breath.

“I will allow it. But you will wait the moons until her name day. We will ensure that this is what she truly wants,” She spoke, nodding to herself. Alicent was more hesitant, running through the possibilities in her mind. This was not what she wanted, not one bit. She wanted as much distance between the two families as possible. And what would the people say when they learned that the Prince was marrying a bastard? Her blood was good as dirt, and she came from a family of liars and narcissists. But no matter what she said, she knew her son would do as he pleased, so finally, she nodded, looking down at the floor.

128 AC The wedding day came quicker than either of them had expected. For at least three hours a day it was just planning, planning, planning. Trying on rings and taking them off, getting as close as they could without their chaperones making a fuss, whispered compliments and holding hands under the table. And of course, having to remind Alicent that this was not her wedding. “Oh, but wouldn’t a green dress be so lovely?” She asked, holding the fabric to (Y/N)’s skin. Rhaenyra could sense her discomfort, giving a light shake of her head.

“No. She has already decided to wear a gown similar to mine,” She spoke, and as Alicent went to open her mouth, she quickly spoke again.

“Don’t you remember that from when you were young? How old were you, nine or so? I found you in my chambers trying to get the dress on. It was much too long for you then,” Rhaenyra smiled fondly as she sipped her tea.

“It will not fit her,” Alicent pointed out, to which Rhaenyra smiled.

“It is a good to live in the time of seamstresses, is it not? I have already had it expanded and altered to suit her. You should worry about your son. Black leather at a wedding would be quite improper,” She spoke. Aemond sighed, slowly making eye contact with his betrothed. The pair were rather calm, but their mothers… were certainly something.

“I have already had his clothing commissioned. He will wear a fine beaded doublet of dragons and seahorses, in nod to her…. Velaryon heritage,” Alicent spoke, her voice soft and sarcastic, making Rhaenyra’s eyes roll. (Y/N) could not take it anymore.

“In all respect, this is my wedding. It is our wedding. We do not need this petty argument ruining our day. We both have fine clothes to wear, we have stunning rings, invitations are sent, and that is the end of it.” She spoke, looking between the two older women, watching them go silent. And so the pair would sit and wait for the day to come, resting together in the gardens, watching the sun fall and rise as they ate their meals on a blanket. They were romantic and disgusting, living in their own little world, just them and their chaperone.

“I cannot wait until we are finally wed and can be alone,” He sighed, rubbing her hand, kissing the top of her engagement ring. It was golden and covered in stones. It was far from traditional, and it was exactly the type of thing that she enjoyed.

“Nor can I,” She said softly, smiling as she saw a bunny running across the grass.

“Only a few days left,” he said softly. “You are certain you want to go through with this? There is still time to call it all off,” He mumbled, making her scoff.

“Of course I am certain. I will just have to prepare myself for more of your mothers comments,” She responded teasingly.

“Oh, Gods. Are do not want to think about that. I only wish to think of what it will be like to finally kiss you, to share our names and bodies… to finally sleep in the same bed and wake up to the sight of you every morning,” he murmured, making her cheeks burn.

“Stop it,” She mumbles, too embarrassed to listen to any more of it, placing her hands on her ears, making him chuckle as he pulled them off.

“I am thrilled to see your pretty face all sleepy and puffy, and to share our evening meals, to have painting after painting made of you to hang on my walls until I cannot escape those pretty eyes,” He smiled. She squirmed under him, flattered and grossed out, covering her crimson cheeks. “Hm.. the bugs are coming out,” He sighed as the sky got dark and frogs bred in the distance. She sighed, and they carefully packed up their things and made their way back to the Keep. Alicent was watching them from her balcony, and the two walked a safe distance apart. Only a few more days they would have to hold themselves together. And finally, on the 18th day of the 11th moon, all of the Lords and Ladies of importance were packed inside the Red Keep. Beautiful gowns twirling under candle light, the best of music echoing from the harps. Aemond tried to breath as he walked in, his eyes finally finding her.

And gods, he would marry her a million times over. Her curls were full of pearls and small pins, half of her hair up and the other half down. His palms were sweating, pressing against his doublet. He was painfully aware of everyone looking at him, but he couldn’t look away from her.

“(Y/N).” He murmured softly as she finally stood in front of him. He was struck dumb by her beauty, blinking slowly.

“Aemond,” She said softly, their voices quiet and kept to the loudness of a breath. Both of their faces red as the Sept read off some text, but neither of them were paying attention. Hurry up, Aemond thought to himself, getting increasingly more anxious as the minutes passed. And finally, as silence covered them, he reached forward, held her cheeks, and pressed a big kiss to her mouth. It was sweet and awkward, and their teeth bumped for a brief moment. All of the love they had collected for each other in the last months came oozing out, her hands holding his until they finally parted, looking at each other, their breath lost.

“And you have… kissed your bride.” The Septon spoke, a bit awkwardly, as if this had never happened before. And it had not. The crowd was quiet, looking around for the reaction they were supposed to have, until they finally erupted in applause.

“I love you, My Strong Girl,” He whispered into her ear. She smiled up at him, arms around his shoulders as flower petals flew like rain.

“Aww, thank you,” She said, making his eye squint. She laughed, her thumbs pressing her cheeks.

“And I love you too, my One Eyed Prince,” She mumbled, feeling his arms around her waist, holding her close as if he wished to absorb her. And so the One Eyed Prince and The Strong Girl lived the happiest they could, despite the violence around them and the whispers in their ears, their love never died. Burning furious and strong like Vhagar’s flame, and with every five years that passed, they would have wedding after wedding after wedding, until they were wed beneath all the gods and above all the land. Until their love could not be denied, and until they died, where their ashes were mixed and mingled with the shore, covered in shells and seahorses.

I think this might be the longest fic i've posted so far! I hope you enjoyed it!!

Thank you to everyone who reads.

♡- BK

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tacticalprincess · 6 months ago

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life with retired!könig… he’ll take you on whatever vacations your heart desires, because he can’t say no to you and takes pride in being the one to show you the world, but as for home life; i see him hauling you somewhere rural and mildly secluded with green land that stretches on for miles. a large yet humble home with lots of open windows and old architecture.

not quite an animal farm, but youve got some adopted dogs, cats, and rabbits to keep you company, and you always pad sleepily into the kitchen to see him with the smaller ones perched on his broad shoulders while he sips his coffee and watches the news, a puddle of big grumpy old dog at his feet.

he harvests fruits and vegetables next to your flower garden, and pretends not to notice you accidentally drowning one of your plants, transfixed by how attractive he looks all sweaty and dirty, soft bulky muscles bulging out of his shirt.

food becomes a love language — cooking meals together is könig’s favorite activity to do with you. though he’s always coddling, insisting you let him handle the sharp knives and getting food in and out of the oven. buzzes like a fly around your homemade sauce, arms wrapped around you from behind, until you let him have a taste from your fingers.

at night, sitting on the bathroom sink with him between your legs, leaning down with his arms braced on either side of you so you can massage various oils and creams into his slightly overgrown stubble. he’ll furrow his eyebrows at it and ask if it’s all really necessary, but he loves the feeling of your soft hands all over his face too much to stop you, something akin to butterflies swirling in his stomach from you doting on him so gently. he can’t complain when the razor cuts like butter along his face, giving him the smoothest shave of his life.

holding his face to your chest, fingers raking through his hair as your soft voice soothes him back to sleep after he’s waken abruptly from a nightmare of flashbacks from his past jobs, his strong arms wrapped around your middle devastatingly tight. you’re his peace, his safehaven, adding a tranquility and softness to his life he’s never had before. he doesn’t plan on ever letting you go.

#bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig mw2 #cod x reader #cod

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readwritealldayallnight · 1 day ago

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Saw the post of you asking if we had any tropes or ideas we wanted to see u talk abt and jumped for joy 🙏 … must ask . Do u have any thoughts on ghost finding out reader is pregnant 😋😋

I like to think Ghost starts having suspicions before you do

Wrapped around each other’s bodies, limbs tangled in the sheets as you sleep peacefully with your other half by your side, he’s never not holding at least one of your boobs in his warm calloused palms. You start to wake up with complaints about how sore they are however, his hands in complete agreement with his eyes; your tits have gotten bigger.

And though he hates to see how uncomfortable they have you feeling all of a sudden, and how you whine so cutely about how you need new bras, your cleavage spilling out of your cups, he’s finding it rather difficult not to appreciate the new view.

Next though, he’s noticing how strange it is that foods you usually loved, now have you crinkling your nose up in disgust, turning your face away from the smell, or worse, that one time you ran to the bathroom to spill the contents of your stomach, utterly repulsed by a certain odor.

But he forgets that you haven’t requested Chinese food in nearly a month when instead he’s trying to wrap his mind around how you want peanut butter and jelly on a cheeseburger.

He certainly doesn’t think twice about how you’re just tad bit friskier than usual, pinching his ass and trying to jump his bones more often. There’s never been a lack of intimacy or wanting the other in your relationship, but you seem nearly insatiable recently, using and abusing his fingers, his mouth, his dick, multiple times a day. There are no complaints on his end, your man always being borderline desperate for you.

It’s when he’s been away for work for the last two weeks and he’s walking back into the house and he sees you, that his eyes cannot deny the way you’re simply glowing. Radiating effortless beauty in a way he’s never seen before, which is saying a lot considering you knock the breath out of him every time he’s lucky enough to see even just your shadow.

You look so soft, so sweet, so perfectly his.

He’s searching for a cloth to warm up under the faucet, preparing to clean up the mess he’s just made of you in bed over the last few hours, when his eyes land on the unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. His mind starts quickly doing the math, believing that in theory you should have had to open this pack by now, when things begin to click for him.

Laying naked on your back atop the messy sheets, still catching your breath and coming back down to earth after the many times Simon brought you to bliss tonight, you’re admittedly confused when he comes back into the bedroom without the towel he said he was going to get. You’re even more caught off guard when he approaches you and lays two hands on the sides of your stomach, face approaching your abdomen with an expression of concentration on his face.

“Si what are you-”

“Love, I think you’re pregnant.”

He’s lucky you’ve been having the same suspicion for a few days now, waiting for him to take an actual test and find out, otherwise you might be smacking him upside the head right about now.

Once you do take the test however and confirm what he already felt sure of, that he had put a baby in you, he’s asking you why it isn’t appropriate to tape it to the living room wall for everyone to see, elated to share the news with those in your lives, meanwhile you’ve just decided he won’t be helping decorate the nursery, beyond building furniture.

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deadsetobsessions · 9 months ago

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Danny is desperately running away. Not from a robber, they’re not much of a threat to him anyways, but from a really intense Batman.

“Oh my ancients,” he muttered as he sprinted away from the dude swinging above him. “Can you please go away?! I already paid you back, dude!” Danny raised his voice at the swooping figure above him. He wished he could go ghost, but that would break his cover so fast as a “meta” or whatever.

“Stop running,” Batman landed in front of him, growl reverberating around them.

“Stop chasing me then! It’s bad manners!” And Danny’s from the midwest, so that’s an actual concern.

“How did you find Two-Face?” Batman loomed before stepping back when Danny’s shoulders curled inwards.

“Oh. Is that what this is all about?” Danny huffed. “It was self defense! And… the pun was too good to not, you know? Yeah, no, I had to. Prime opportunity.”

The cowl might hide it but Danny always knew when people are doing that nose pinch of exasperation. It’s a talent he carefully cultivated through shenanigans and puns.

Batman? Definitely inwardly pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How did you find him? Harvey Dent is a dangerous criminal.”

“In my defense,” Danny started, like a teenager caught guiltily shoving the entire cookie jar into his room instead of leaving some for the rest of the family. “He found me first. Well, no, he found the kids first. He started it!”

Batman somehow raised an eyebrow. How the hell does he do that?? The cowl covered the entire upper half of his face! Danny squinted at him. Is Batman a meta?

“Listen, I didn’t start it, but my sister sure as heck taught me how to end it. It’s not my fault Dent couldn’t handle a beat down. And I told you I was gonna pay you back for that one (1) Big Dent! If you wanted cash, you should have said so!”

“Hrm.”

Maybe it was the fancy gear. Maybe it was the pointy head thing. Batman reminded Danny way too much of Vlad and he got the ick.

“Okay, well, good talk, bye!” Danny ducked and ran, faster than he had before.

Batman grappled up and forward, trying to grab him. Danny, with years of dodge training under his belt and impeccable teenage instincts of gtfo, managed to dodge Batman’s reaching hands with a hollered “OPE!”

“Bye! See you never!” Danny ducked behind an alley and turned invisible as Batman swooped past.

When he was sure the vigilante was gone, he slowly faded into the visible spectrum.

“Jeez. Better warn Amy about this. Maybe I should hide in Crime Alley until this blows past.”

——

Gotham’s underbelly had a new tale to sling around their bars that week and a new demographic to be wary of.

The Terrors, the kiddie gang that ran perpendicular to Crime alley, was preyed on by Harvey Dent.

“What do you think you’re doing to them?!”

“Ahhhhhh!!!” Harvey screamed, flailing as a creature of shadows and claws- god damn those sharp ass claws- descended upon him, scarring it just one side but both sides of his very vulnerable face!

“Back the hell off of my kids, you fashion reject!”

As for Harvey… well, he’s developed an aversion to the smell of peanut butter and small children.

——

Batman, hunting down Danny because he’s worried about the endangered meta kid: you left me a Dent.

Danny, because he sees a vigilante bum rushing him: I have no cash! That’s the only way I can pay you back rn!

——

Batman, trying to lecture Danny about safety because he’s a worried batdad:

Danny: ew a rich stalker trying to be my dad!

@tricksterwitchkat can you tell I’ve been thinking about your pun for days? This is for you, thank you so much for that pun, it made my entire week.

#batman #danny phantom #bruce wayne #dc x dp #harvey dent #two face #two face is not having a good time #Danny and his little sister’s kiddie gang #bamf danny phantom #ope being a thing I’ve heard midwesterners say #I think

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delulustateofmind · 7 days ago

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Yan! JJK Men x Reader: You're sick. Literally.

Description: Oh no, you got sick? Poor thing? Luckily the gorgeous man who kidnapped you will take good care of little ol you!

Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami

TW: Mentions of sick things (throwing up, coughing, ya'know sick stuff), Yandere behaviors, Pet names. Reader is a non sorcerer. Suguru didn't defect, still an insane yan though. Nanami's is the darkest.

WC: 3.9k

A/n: Comfort fic for ME. Some little gremlin at my job got me sick. This could be...better? Idk my mind hazy but I couldn't sleep without writing out my little silly thoughts.

Satoru - You'll be smothered to death

You got sick.

Of course, it would happen now, while Satoru was off on one of his endless missions, leaving you to fend for yourself in the pristine prison he called an apartment. He hadn’t been home in days, blissfully clueless to the fact that even swallowing felt like trying to gulp down shards of glass. Your muscles ached, your head throbbed, and every inch of you craved nothing more than a warm drink and a blanket.

Dragging yourself to the kitchen, you held onto a sliver of hope—maybe there was tea or, if you were really lucky, a sad packet of instant ramen. But every cabinet you opened revealed a whole lot of nothing. Great. You checked the fridge next. Also empty, naturally. Your meals were always mysteriously delivered by someone you'd never met while Satoru was away. Maybe they'd bring you soup…or were you destined for another serving of that fancy sushi you could barely stomach in this state?

You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of complaining about such “luxuries.”

And cooking for yourself? Yeah, right. Satoru had confiscated the knives ages ago, forbidding you from using them unless he was there to watch over you like the lovesick freak he was. You cast a sarcastic, vulgar gesture toward one of the many cameras he’d installed around the apartment. Not that he’d ever actually check the footage, right? …Right?

With a sigh, you shuffled into the bathroom, opening one cabinet after another, desperate for something—anything—that could bring a sliver of relief. A cough drop, even a crusty, ancient one, would’ve been a miracle right now. But no, it seemed that the only things Satoru deemed essential were shea butters, body scrubs, and various impractical “essentials.” Your throat burned, each swallow a new brand of torture, and frustration prickled behind your eyes.

Before you knew it, you’d sunk to the floor, tears slipping down your cheeks as exhaustion took over. You tried to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but it came out as more of a weak wheeze. Trapped, sick, and utterly alone, you let yourself drift off on the cold tiles, surrounded by empty cabinets and an even emptier feeling gnawing at your chest.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but the faint sound of the front door clicking open stirred you from your feverish dreams. Footsteps echoed through the apartment, far too energetic to belong to anyone but him. You groaned softly, squinting against the bright light as Satoru’s familiar voice filtered through the fog of your headache.

“Yoo-hoo! I’m home, sweet cheeks! Did you miss me?”

You tried to sit up, but the ache in your muscles protested, leaving you slumped against the wall. Before you could answer, Satoru poked his head into the bathroom, his usual grin plastered on his face—though it faltered as his blue eyes landed on you. In an instant, he was crouched at your side, his hands hovering around you as if he couldn’t decide where to start.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted, his grin morphing into a mock pout. “Did you get all pathetic while I was gone?” His fingers found your forehead, and he clicked his tongue, his eyes widening as he felt the heat radiating from your skin. “You’re burning up! Were you planning to bake yourself in here like a cute little fever muffin? And why didn’t you ping me?”

Ah, yes. The pager. Right. Because apparently, pagers were still a thing in Satoru’s world.

You groaned, trying to turn your face away from his intense stare. “Satoru… I was fine.”

“Fine?” he echoed, clearly amused. “Yeah, sure, if by ‘fine’ you mean pathetically slumped on the bathroom floor.” Without warning, he swept you into his arms, ignoring your weak protests as he carried you to the bedroom. He laid you down with the same exaggerated care he reserved for something truly precious, pulling the soft white sheets over your shivering frame.

“Do you realize,” he said, half-joking, half-scolding, “how irresponsible it was to get sick while I was gone? Honestly, you should know better.” He bundled the blankets around you so tightly that you could barely wiggle a finger. “You don’t have permission to be sick without me around.”

“Permission?” you mumbled, your voice muffled, eyes half-lidded as the fever continued to fog up your mind.

“Exactly!” He ruffled your hair with that chipper enthusiasm. “If I’d been here, I would’ve made sure you ate properly. And I would’ve personally spoon-fed you medicine—doesn't that sound delightful?” His eyes sparkled with a teasing glint, though there was something unsettlingly serious beneath it.

“Are you going to… let me breathe in here?” you managed to ask, noting just how thoroughly he’d cocooned you.

“Oh, no no,” he chuckled, settling onto the edge of the bed with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. “You’re not escaping my care now. Not after letting yourself get sick while I was gone.” He leaned in close, his face inches from yours, that unnervingly charming smile back in place. “I’m on nurse duty, and you’re my sole patient. Lucky you, huh?”

You whined as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. Sure, he was sweet, even doting at times. But he was also, without a doubt, a little bit of a freak. He left, claiming he’d be back with “supplies” that you could only imagine were absurdly over the top.

An hour later, he returned, brandishing a spoon and a cup of soup, and propped you up as if you were some doll. “Now, open up,” he cooed, lifting the spoon with exaggerated gentleness. “You’re going to eat every bite, and then we’re binging every Studio Ghibli movie you’ve never seen. You love those, right? You mentioned it on our first date.” His eyes flashed, a brief, intense look that was almost… possessive, before softening again. “And if I hear even a hint of a cough, I might just smother you in blankets until you forget what a cold feels like.”

You tried to roll your eyes, but the warmth of the soup soothed your throat, and despite the fever still clawing at you, you managed a faint smile. Satoru kept feeding you, chattering on about his mission, each story punctuated with exaggerated gestures that made the soup tremble on the spoon. His presence was overwhelming, but, for once, you didn’t mind.

“See?” he said proudly when you’d finished, grinning down at you like a smug nurse. “All you need is a little Gojo love, and you’re practically healed already.”

He moved to start up Porco Rosso, something you’d never seen but that he insisted you’d adore.

But as he fussed over you, you caught a flicker of worry in his playful eyes—a soft, fleeting look, as though he truly believed you were the most fragile thing in his world. And despite everything, despite the suffocating way he hovered, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Perhaps in a way you were growing insane day by day. He’d stay by your side, even if you were only here because he’d pulled you into his world and held on so tightly, refusing to let go, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear. He couldn't lose someone so important to him.

Suguru - Just let him take care of you, yeah?

Your muscles ached, and your eyes felt swollen, as though you’d cried them shut. Everything hurt, every shiver that wracked your body twisting the ache deeper. Cold sweat clung to you, dampening the sheets that Suguru had so carefully arranged around you. You were caught between chills and feverish heat, unable to reconcile how you could be shivering and sweating all at once.

He’d left early this morning after a long, restless night, one that left its marks painted across your skin. The ache wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but you could still feel each bruise, each bite—a reminder of his hands, his mouth, his possessive need to leave you claimed. Maybe that was why your muscles were so sore, why each breath felt like it only barely filled your lungs.

You swallowed, the pain flaring in your throat. You stared up at the wooden beams of the traditional ceiling, another piece of this house he’d locked you in—for your own good, as he liked to remind you. Once, you’d tried to tell him you needed space, that the relationship was too much, that he was too much. Now, the only “space” you had was this house, shared with him, furnished to his tastes. The traditional Japanese garden beyond the window, with its perfectly placed stones and swaying bamboo, felt like a prison as much as it did a picturesque scene out of a movie.

You drifted off to the rhythmic patter of rain against the shoji screens, wondering how he'd react when he saw you like this. Unease filled you.

A sound brought you back, barely louder than the rain—a soft, padded footfall just beyond the sliding door. A familiar twinge of anxiety stirred in your stomach, the kind you had yet to shake whenever he approached. The door slid open with practiced care, his silhouette filling the frame before stepping inside.

"My love?" Suguru's voice was gentle, almost reverent, as he moved toward you, closing the distance with graceful precision. His violet eyes swept over you, dark with concern, though a small smile tugged at his lips, as though he found a strange beauty in your frailty.

“You’re not feeling well, are you?” he murmured, his voice softening further as he knelt beside you. A sick smile on his lips as if he enjoyed this. One of his hands brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his touch tender, and intimate. “You poor thing… it’s no wonder. You’ve been keeping everything bottled up. All those silly little thoughts and worries…”

He pressed a warm cloth to your forehead, his fingers gentle, almost soothing. Yet there was something in his touch—a possessiveness, a kind of pride in seeing you like this, dependent on his care, trapped under his gaze.

“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and sweet as he continued to smooth back your hair, “you don’t have to hold back with me. I’ll take care of everything—everything you could ever need. I’ll make sure you never have to worry about a single thing. Not your health, not your happiness… not even your freedom.” His smile softened as his hand moved to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking softly, possessively. “All you have to do is trust me, my love.”

A faint shiver went through you, whether from the fever or his touch, you couldn’t be sure. You tried to turn your face away, but his hand held you firmly, coaxing your gaze back to him. “Rest, darling,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll stay by your side. I’ll make sure you’re safe, warm. Isn’t that what you need?”

His eyes, gentle yet held something so dark in those violet irises, held a depth of obsession that left no room for refusal, and despite the fever clouding your mind, you could feel it—the certainty that no matter how many walls you tried to build, Suguru would tear them down, piece by piece, until all you had was him.

The last thing you heard as sleep overtook you was his voice, murmuring soft reassurances, as he brushed his lips over your forehead.

Suguru adjusted his hold, wrapping the blanket more snugly around you as he cradled you closer, pressing a few soft kisses to the top of your head. You felt his fingers trail down your arm, gentle yet something dark lurked under such a touch, as though even your feverish skin was something precious to him.

He shifted, leaving the bed momentarily, though his gaze never wavered from you, his eyes flickering with a hint of unease at the brief separation. He returned a moment later, a bowl of rice porridge.

Something he must have prepared while you were half-asleep. “I made this just for you. Something gentle, soothing… I didn’t add anything too spicy; I know your throat’s sore.”

He carefully lifted the spoon to your lips, watching intently as you sipped with half-lidded hazy eyes. “Good girl,” he encouraged softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Eat up. I’ll make sure you do. I’ll stay right here, feeding you every bite if that’s what it takes.”

You shifted slightly, trying to sit up more reaching for the spoon, but Suguru’s hand pressed gently against your shoulder, holding you down. “Ah, ah, don’t try to get up, my love,” he chided, a faintly scolding edge to his tone. “You’re in no condition to move around.” He gave a soft sigh, though there was a smile in his eyes as he leaned closer, “Just rest. Let me dote on you as much as you deserve. I don’t mind taking care of every little thing.”

He continued to feed you with small, measured bites, murmuring reassurances and encouragements with each spoonful, as though the simple act of eating was an accomplishment he was proud of. “That’s it,” he whispered. “You’re doing so well. Just a little more, love… There’s no need to be shy.”

As you finished, he wiped your mouth gently, his gaze softening as he watched you with a near-adoring smile. “There,” he said, his tone full of satisfaction as if he had achieved something profound just by keeping you fed. He pulled the blankets back up, tucking them so tightly around you that it was almost suffocating, as though he feared even a single draft could harm you.

With a sudden look of inspiration, he began fussing over the room itself, adjusting the windows, pulling the shoji screens shut just a bit tighter. “Can’t have any chills sneaking in, can we?” he said, more to himself than you. “You need warmth, peace… not a hint of discomfort.” He glanced back at you with a pleased smile, clearly contented by the thought of keeping every single detail in perfect order.

Finally, he returned to your side, pulling you back into his arms, and settling you against his chest again. “There we go,” he murmured, his fingers combing carefully through your hair, untangling every knot with precise, gentle strokes. “You don’t need to worry about anything—not about what you’ll eat, not about what you’ll wear, not even about how you’ll get up tomorrow. I’ll handle every little thing.”

You tried to shift, but his hold only tightened, his warmth both comforting and stifling. “Just relax, my love,” he crooned, his lips brushing your temple. “All you have to do is lie here and be good for me, let me keep you safe. I’ll take care of every breath you take if I have to.”

A faint pang of claustrophobia crept in as he held you, but his soothing, rhythmic touch on your hair made it hard to resist sinking back against him. His fingers trailed down your spine, rubbing gentle, possessive circles as he murmured sweet nothings, his voice a soft, dark lullaby.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his tone dipping into something almost dangerous, though his touch remained gentle. “There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, keep you here with me.” He stroked your cheek, his gaze intense as he watched you, his face softening as he took in every detail of your weakened state. “So don’t even think about leaving, whether that be in life or death.”

In his embrace, you felt yourself drifting once more, lulled by the warmth, by the touch that was both smothering and tender. And as you lulled to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that with every little act of care, every gentle touch, Suguru was binding you tighter and tighter, locking you in a world where you would always be his to protect—his, and only his.

Nanami - Just to be sure

You awoke abruptly in the night, a sickening wave rising in your stomach. You slipped from his tight grip as quietly as you could, pressing a hand over your mouth as you stumbled to the bathroom, desperate to make it in time. The door shut behind you with a muffled slam, and you collapsed in front of the toilet, gripping the cold porcelain as your body heaved, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You didn't care whether your captor heard you or not as you continued to drain every ounce of you. You slumped over the seat, letting your cheek rest against your arm as you tried to steady yourself.

But then came the soft, deliberate click of the lock turning. Your heart plummeted as his shadow filled the doorway. Nanami’s gaze was heavy, his sigh almost… indulgent, as if he’d expected this. You couldn’t even bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"Rough night?" he murmured, his tone deceptively soft. In his hand, you heard the faint rustling of cardboard being opened. Medicine, perhaps? You flinched, a prickle of fear clawing up your spine, as your eyes met the cardboard box. "Here," he said, stepping forward and extending a small, pink test between his fingers. "Take this for me.”

The sight of the pregnancy test twisted your stomach again, but this time with a different kind of nausea. You swallowed hard, feeling your hands tremble as you stared at the item he held out so calmly, that familiar, unsettling smile ghosting over his lips.

“Please,” he continued, voice coaxing, his smile a bit too unsettling. “It’s the holidays, after all. Good news would mean so much to me.” His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, one that made your skin crawl. “Ino and Yuji would love to hear about our little addition.”

Your hands shook as you took the test from his hands, too frightened to refuse, too exhausted to protest. You didn’t dare push him further. You knew what lengths he would go to. You were lucky he wasn't forcing you to piss on it on the spot. The lines between his kindness and his control had long since blurred, and you knew the cost of defiance.

“Could you… step out?” you whispered, your voice barely above a rasp. His expression tightened, a flicker of annoyance clouding his face before he relented, stepping back, but only leaving the door open a sliver.

“I won’t look,” he promised, though his voice carried that familiar edge. “But I’ll be right here in case you… need me.”

His words hung ominously in the silence, and even with him just outside, you felt his presence pressing in on you, felt the weight of his watchful attention. Fucking freak. You forced yourself to go through with it, nerves fraying with each second, each stolen glance you imagined him taking through the door. Finally, the result appeared: one line. Negative.

When you opened the door, he stood waiting, his face unreadable, his gaze fixed. He didn’t say a word, simply handed you another test, and then another, his lips thinning further with each negative result.

A dark shadow crossed his face as he let out a slow, disappointed sigh. “Must just be a stomach bug, then,” he murmured, his tone clipped, tinged with quiet frustration and disappointment. He reached for you, his touch firm as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you to the shower, reaching to lift the hem of your nightgown. "Let's get you bathed, shall we? My little wife." he said softly.

The words hung heavy in the air—my little wife. There was a possessiveness in his tone, one that sent a fresh wave of dread coursing through you. His hands, steady and unrelenting, guided the straps of your nightgown over your shoulders and down your arms, letting it fall to the floor in a soft whisper of fabric. You felt his gaze travel over you, inspecting you as if to memorize every detail, every inch of skin he considered his.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature with his usual calm precision. The warm water began to fill the silence, though it did nothing to wash away the creeping chill that had settled in your bones. His hand remained on your shoulder, a steadying presence that felt more like a shackle than a comfort.

“Step in,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost coaxing, as though this were some intimate, shared moment between husband and wife, as though you’d chosen to be here.

You stepped under the water, feeling its warmth spread over you, but Nanami didn’t move away. Instead, he reached for a cloth, lathering it with soap, his movements deliberate, almost ritualistic. He ran the cloth over your shoulder, then down your arm. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his attention never wavering.

“My little wife,” he murmured again, the words slipping from his lips with unsettling ease. “You’re too fragile. You need someone to look after you… how do expect us to build a family, if you don't let me take care of you?”

His touch moved to your back, the cloth trailing down your spine. Every motion was painstakingly slow, as if he was savoring the moment, drawing it out. His fingers pressed just a little too firmly, a subtle reminder of the control he held, his grip tightening slightly whenever he sensed the faintest hint of resistance.

“You’ve been so stubborn,” he continued, his voice a quiet murmur just above the sound of the water. “I’ve had to go to such lengths to make sure you’re safe, to make sure you understand that this is where you belong. With me.”

You swallowed, the words dying in your throat as you felt the cloth glide down your arm again, his movements lingering, methodical. He was talking as if he truly believed this—his delusion woven so deeply into his mind that he couldn’t see it for what it was.

As he finished, he reached to turn off the water, his hand lingering on the knob for a moment before he looked back at you, his smile too kind for comfort. “I’ll dry you off,” he said, almost tenderly, reaching for a thick towel off the counter and wrapping it around your shoulders.

He guided you out of the shower, his hold firm as he began patting your skin dry with a soft towel. His hand brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray droplet, his gaze softening in a way that would’ve seemed caring if not for the dark gleam beneath it.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice low and sickeningly sweet.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could pull away, he held you tighter, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, a mockingly gentle gesture that only served to deepen your dread.

“Let’s get you back to bed, my little wife,” he murmured, his tone soft and full of sickening love that made your skin crawl. He guided you out of the bathroom, his hand firm on the small of your back, and with every step, you could feel the walls of your world closing in, tighter and tighter, until there was no room left for escape.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto suguru #soft yandere #yandere geto x reader #yandere gojo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jjk #yandere nanami x reader #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami

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silaslich · 9 days ago

Text

If it hurts to breathe, open a window

Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Summary - following the first mission with Soap in mw2. You meet Ghost for the first time, he’s different to the stories you’ve been told.

Wc - 10k

Cw - heavy on plot, injury/blood/death, directly follows mw2 canon, canon typical violence, plane crash

Dark clouds crowded the sky overhead, swirling in a mass of stoney graphite and charcoal grey. The butter-kissed horizon of daylight had faded into a mass of deep violet and midnight blue, melting against the sky to make way for the cover of night.

There was so much noise around for your ears to process; the trucks engine roaring as it’s tyres rolled smoothly and quickly over the damp tarmac, the loud excited voices of the men sitting next to and across from you as they chatted away- having to shout into one another’s ear over the sound of the Boeing CH-47’s rotor system booming to life as she prepared to depart onto the runway.

You kept your eyes down, staring idly at the dark steel floor, mind processing and dissecting the information you’d been given not even an hour ago.

General Ghorbrani was dead. Killed in a missile strike in Al Mazrah several months ago after being discovered working with the Russians- whom of which were supplying Iran with armour and hardware. Part of Tf-141 along with Shadow Company had been the ones to neutralise the threat and the entire arms deal.

Same shit different day, only, it wasn’t as simple as that this time. Ghorbrani had a second in command, Hassan Zyani, Quds Force Major. He’d taken up the mantle for Iran. Now it was him supplying terrorists; money, weapons, intel. You name it. The man was dangerous and he wanted retaliation for the Ghorbrani strike, he wanted revenge, that in itself was dangerous enough. Laswell was convinced he was planning something, and whatever it was, it was going to be big. She had managed to track him and found that he was on the ground in Al Mazrah, and that’s just where you were headed.

You were knocked out of your dissociative state when someone lightly punched your arm. “Y’alright?” The Scotsman was his usual optimistic self, a stupid grin slanting across his face as he looked at you.

You nodded, realising the vehicle had stopped and was beginning to empty around the two of you. Soap stood up from the bench and jumped down from the tailgate, nodding his head to the side, signalling for you to follow him. You did, adjusting your gun at your side as you landed squarely on two feet.

John ‘Soap’ Mactavish had been a thorn in your side for the majority of your military service. Despite being deployed hundreds of times in numerous countries all across the globe you still ended up bumping into that big Scottish bastard far too often. He looked out for you, although you never asked him to, he’d taken a shining to you. And you to him. Like the brother you never had, and never wanted. He always knew how to lighten even the darkest of situations; whether it was his shit jokes or stupid questions, he never failed to pull you out of your own head.

You had joined the British Army at your earliest opportunity when you left college at eighteen. With nothing keeping you tied to home anymore- you left. Without a single pence in your pocket or a dream in your head. Better to die fighting in a war than die fighting an overdose in a back alley like some do. Stuck in a town that never wakes. Dingy corner shops and abandoned parks that are rusted to death. Those same people that have been there for years and never leave. They’re too content there, you think, perfectly happy in their mediocrity. You had wanted more. You didn’t want to fade into that kind of life. Scraping together change from a shitty job to get by, meeting and settling with someone for the sake of it only to have a child entirely accidentally- stuck forever. You needed more.

After serving for a little over a decade you were drawn for the SRR, moving up rank and earning your title as Sergeant only a year later- then finally you were transferred to the SAS. Who you’d now served with for the last two years. It was worlds apart from your early army days, you hadn’t needed to go through the selection process because you were handpicked and transferred, but the stories you’d heard over dinner in the canteen and through whispers in the barracks spoke for themselves in volumes.

Soap held his rifle with two hands, keeping it close to his chest as he moved to step forward. The two of you were strapped to the gills in full gear; night vision goggles sitting atop your helmet, throwing knives strapped to your sides and your full equipment vest covering your chest. A patch of the British flag in grey, black and white strapped to your vest proudly.

You stood fast- following Soap’s back with your eyes as you watched him approach another soldier. The soldier was tall. Much taller than Soap was, and that was saying something considering the Scotsman was at least a head taller than you, the line of your shoulder just reaching the mid of his bicep. His height hadn’t been the first thing you noticed about this soldier- no, it was his mask. The crude face covering was fashioned from a black balaclava and skull mask; sewn together with thick stitches connecting them to one another and painted with thick-dull lines of off-white down through the eyes and over the teeth. You cocked your head and squinted your eyes, you were stood too far away to hear what they were saying, and with Soap’s back towards you and this soldier’s face covered nothing gave their topic of conversation away.

Simon Riley. Otherwise known as Ghost both in and out of the field, not many earned the right to call him by his real name.

You’d never met him, only now setting eyes on him for the first time; but Soap had told you all about him. Not just Soap, but near enough every soldier in any platoon you’d served with had a story to tell of the Ghost. Wether it was something they’d either seen or heard, he had a reputation. Not only was he an expert marksman; he was highly intelligent and was a master with his knife skills, but he was most notorious for his stealth and torture expertise. He was an anomaly. Not only was he greatly feared but he was simultaneously looked up to and admired, soldiers wanted to be like him. Be him.

Johnny gave the man a punch to the shoulder, identical to the one he’d just given you, from the stupid grin on his face when he turned back to face you, it was clear Soap was happy to see Ghost. The man in the mask stood for a second and you watched, he didn’t follow after Soap right away, you saw briefly that his mouth was moving beneath his mask, he was talking to someone over comms. Slowly turning to walk the other way as he did.

MacTavish approached you “let’s get ourselves a win, yeah?” he tapped your shoulder twice as he passed by you, making his way toward the helo just twenty feet behind you, now full of marines.

“Let’s” you answered him swiftly, still watching from the corner of your eye as Ghost continued to retreat further away from the transport, you turned you shoulder to follow after Soap when he was no longer in your view.

It wasn’t long before everyone was onboard and you were air born, flying inbound towards the border of Al Mazrah. The craft rocked and jerked with the turbulence, it was cramped and warm and far too loud. Flashing white lights assaulted your vision like beacons from time to time, breaking through the streams of deep crimson red that painted the entire inside of the holding compartment. The flight was relatively short in comparison to other missions you’d been on. Still, there was something stagnant lingering in the air, a hunger palpating the breath of these men.

Laswell’s brief had been short and sweet, a run down on enemy positions and the split teams objectives. Three words kept ringing through your skull. Capture or kill.

When it boiled down to it. Hassan was needed alive, but the reality was there was every chance that it might be forced out of someone’s hands. It was still a mission success if he was killed, but the priority was getting him alive.

By chance, Ghost had been seated directly across from you the entire duration of the transport over. With his gun held to his chest he stared forward, right through you, and you did the same. He didn’t scare you, he had no need to. However, his energy did throw you slightly. He had a calm eeriness about him, and his demeanour was even and smooth, but you had a feeling that would all change as soon as he set his boots down onto enemy ground in a few short minutes.

The helo stuttered in the air, dropping lower and cutting through the air as you neared closer to the ground. Silently, Ghost stood.

His gruff voice tore through the white noise of the whirring rotors of the craft, this was the first time you’d heard him speak.

“Bravo team offloads here. Alpha team stays onboard with the Sergeant to land downrange” the heavy footfalls of his boots echoed across the floor as he proceeded down the craft, your rank and name ringing in your ears as he continued addressing his soldiers. “Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive” he stopped at the ramp, turning back to speak again “but this is capture or kill.”

As the craft came to thudding land and the ramp began to descend with a mechanical whir, the men selected for Bravo team began to stand, migrating towards Ghost as he stood and waited. Soap stood from his seat next to you with a grunt, adjusting his gun to free up his right hand; wordlessly he held out his fist. You didn’t need prompting, you reached up and bumped your fist against his, nodding at him as his mouth quirked up, just slightly. As you looked towards the ramp your eyes were met with cold dark irises staring right back at you, neither of you made a move to break the eye contact. Ghost was momentarily blocked from your view by Soap’s back, you heard the clack of Ghost flipping his night vision goggles down “keep up, Soap” he barked as he turned to descend the ramp.

You found yourself watching them both as they left, their stances shifting low as they drew their guns and headed towards the broken sandstone structures that had been destroyed long before your teams had gotten here. The ramp shut quickly and you were airborne again, the loud deafening sound of the rotars whirring over your head kicking back into gear again. You shook your head and took a deep inhale of breath, shifting to a stance that meant you wouldn’t stumble from the turbulence.

“You heard the lieutenant team Alpha” your voice was clear and loud, carrying through the torrent of noise. “Let’s get this done” you added as you turned, glancing out of one of the circular windows to peer out into the navy star-speckled night sky.

The sky was one of the only things that stayed consistent in your life. When things got rough or began to drown you, all you had to do was look up. No matter rain or shine; light or dark or sunset or night sky. It always gave you a calming sense of reality, something to escape away from the unfair world you lived in. Away from the blood and the bullets.

As you casted your eyes over toward a cluster of hills nestled against the horizon, a fast approaching stream of fire and smoke stole your eye. Before you could raise the alarm, the pilot’s voice sparked your comms device to life “All stations- Razor-1 is bracketed. We’re getting lit!” His panic was evident and your heart jumped in your throat, you needed to get these men out alive.

“Alpha team hold fast! Prepare for impact” your voice was hoarse as you shouted over the pilot’s voice as he continued shouting through the comms, you urged your men to copy your actions as you held onto the supports above your head, bracing for impact. You felt the entire craft lurch and you were thrown forward, hitting your head against the metal frame of the wall as you collided with it.

“Razor 1 going down! We’re going down!” The pilot bellowed and it rang through your already ringing ears, your vision blurred and the swirl of red lights had you dazed. You tried to stand again, the missile had hit and the whole contents of the craft were flung upwards, including you and your men. You urged them to hang on, to protect themselves from injury as best they could-this was bad and you knew it. You gave them hope as your brain ran into overdrive, wondering how to come out of this.

The impact was like nothing you’d ever experienced- there weren’t any training drills that could simulate a cargo helo crashing from a missile strike at full plummeting speed. Yourself and everyone else on board were flung like rag dolls, colliding with each other, colliding with the walls and ceiling. You caught yourself on a loose seatbelt as you were sent flying forward, palms stinging as the material tore through the skin of your palms. You managed to steady yourself and were forced to watch as one soldier attempted to break his fall with his hands, his arms snapping like twigs from the g-force of the crash and the weight of his own body. You let go of the belt and landed on your back, your ribs connecting with a weapons carrier on the way down as another jolt sent you hurling at Godspeed. You heard the crunch of your bones and winced at the sting running up your side like an electric shock.

The whole ordeal was quick; as the smoke rose and the broken-frayed wiring sparked to illuminate the chaos around you, you could see clearly the full extent of destruction and devastation from the crash.

You coughed as you felt blood begin to fill your mouth and you could feel something warm oozing down the right side of your face. Before you could fully process the scene around you, your comms crackled and a voice found your ears. “Alpha, what’s your status?!” Ghost’s voice was on the brink of showing a slight slither of emotion. You felt like you were choking, the blood and the smoke, it was all too much. You blinked through the darkness and tried to gather your bearings. Rising gingerly to your knees, you were quick to have to clutch at your side, trying to subdue the pain.

Blood stained the walls and floors, bodies were slumped around you and all you could hear was the sounds of coughing and shifting that were almost muted against the sound of the fire now ripping through the crash site. “Alpha, how copy?” Ghost was there again in your head, voice rattling through your ear piece.

You cleared your throat “Ghost” you choked on the blood in your mouth “Alpha is immobile multiple critical!” You slumped down, your body ceasing from the pain as it tore through your nerves. Your senses were lit ablaze when bullets began to rain through the fire and debris, catching the metal and rattling like hailstones. You pressed yourself low to the ground with a pained grunt, pressing your thumb down on your comms again. “Shit! We’re taking effective fire!” You shouted, crawling on your hands and knees toward the wounded, planning to find a gun and cover them from the bullets.

“Sergeant, we’re moving to building 1, hold tight!” As quick as his voice was there again, it was gone.

Your eyes searched the wreckage for anything to help combat the active fire you were taking, that’s when you noticed a gun beneath one of the wounded and you crawled closer towards him. Trying to be as gentle as you could, you rolled him onto his side but he still howled in pain- despite the guilt you knew you had to press on. You nudged the gun from beneath his legs and laid him flat again, not wanting to do him anymore damage if it were his neck or spine that was injured. You grabbed the gun and moved towards better cover, the wreck wasn’t secure and it wouldn’t be long before the enemy moved closer and you’d be compromised. You didn’t open fire yet, there was no point with just one gun, you kept your eyes about you but moved to tend to more wounded.

It was clear that amongst the casualties there were mortally wounded soldiers on your hands, some already dead or close to it. You tried to make them comfortable, trying hard not to think too hard into it. You would want the same if you were in their position. You tried to drown out the noise of the shells raining through the wreckage. Spouting nonsense about nothing, humming a tune as you tied a strip of ripped cloth around someones half amputated leg. You’d seen chaos before, even before you joined the army, but you hadn’t seen this caliber of bloodied carnage in a long time- not since you’d first been deployed.

Back when the fresh faces of young soldiers are first shipped out, not knowing what lays ahead, unknowing that the friends they made in their months of training could soon be lying face down in the mud. You didn’t like thinking back to that time, but right now, you’d give anything to be back there.

You didn’t keep track of time, you thought it best not to. The fire was burning its way around you, it felt like it was under your skin, sweating from the inside out. Bullet shells didn’t cease fire upon your position, they grew erratic and laboured, like the enemy were unsure if anyone was even still alive in the wreckage. You jumped when you heard a voice in your ear again.

“Soap- we’re moving to the crash site to help the wounded. Rest o’ you hold here and cover us” it was Ghost again. The boys were close, not long and you’d have help. It might have only been seconds before you heard footsteps closing in, you could never be safe, you pointed your gun towards the noise and held your finger on the trigger. Always ready. You focused your eyes, squeezing the trigger.

“Blue blue!” A voice shouted, you dropped the aim of your gun, relief rinsing through your bloodstream as you saw Ghost and Soap enter the wreckage.

“It’s good to see you two” you sighed “we’ve got five KIA and one wounded, it’s just me and my gun” you said, eyes daring to peer outside toward the tree line, checking for more movement. Ghost stiffened.

“They’re here, get your fuckin’ gun on that tree line” he ordered, moving himself into position as Soap followed.

You raised yourself up, holding onto some webbing draping across the craft for some leverage, you’d taken more damage than you’d initially realised. It would have to wait. Coming up to stand to your full height, you shuffled yourself into a better position. You took a low firing line, flipping the night vision goggles atop your helmet into position so you could better see. It wasn’t clear, smoke still rising, but it was clear enough.

“Got movement” Soap stated roughly.

“If you have a shot, take it” Ghost’s tone was menacing, his demeanour had done a complete 180 onto its head, like you’d predicted. You were the first to shoot.

“Engage!” you shouted, spotting more shooters spilling from behind a wall. Bullets sliced through the air, the sound ringing in your ears from all angles. You hit multiples, as did the boys, the enemy gave it their best go too. Your eyes caught sight of something, you shouted as you realised what it was. “RPG!” You ducked your head, watching the men in the wreckage around you do the same, very briefly. What was left of the helo rocked and jerked from the force of the blow, more metal flying away and shredding.

“Fuck” Soap growled, losing his bearings. Ghost let out a frustrated noise.

“Get your guns up” you all continued to fire, watching more enemy soldiers dropped to the ground.

This continued, more and more soldiers spilling from the tree line and opening fire. You were low on ammo, you threw a grenade out the window in front of you and it rolled towards a cluster of wooden supply boxes, at least three men were killed when the blast went off. Ghost was opening fire like hell, Soap too, the Scotsman quickly running out and setting mines between reloading stints to fend off the targets that managed to get close enough.

“Dig in, lads. We’re not done yet” the lieutenant was still firing as he spoke, not letting his guard down once. You kept your eyes forward, squinting them when you noticed an abnormal layering of smoke begin to rise from the tree line.

“We got smoke, boys, in the tree line” you grit your teeth, knowing what this meant.

“No visual” Soap said, flatly.

You retorted “I can’t see shit”.

There was a second of silence, “incoming!” Ghost shouted.

More fire hit you, a bullet whizzed so close past your face you wouldn’t have been surprised if it left a mark. Too close. You’d not realised, but Ghost was practically at your side, covering more men coming from the tree line closer to where you were shooting.

“Take cover!” he barked, cold eyes glaring forward as he shot more rounds into the smoke. More explosions rang out, coming closer each time, rumbling the very earth from the force of it.

“They’re launching grenades!” Soap shouted.

Your gun ran out of ammo and you’d lost your hand gun in the crash, your eyes darted around, then you saw the one strapped to the lieutenant’s thigh. You ripped it quickly from the holster, adjusting your position on your knees to get a better shot. You fired through the explosions and into the darkness, hearing more thuds as more targets hit the dirt. Ghost didn’t seem to react to you taking his gun, maybe he was too focussed on the incoming fire. You didn’t catch what he said, speaking through comms to whoever was there. Your brain felt like mush and your ears were still ringing, not to mention the bleeding from your head hadn’t stopped.

“Air support is on its way” he said.

Some of the smoke started to clear. Less and less soldiers were pushing through to the wreckage, this was nearly over.

“Let’s move up. We clear this position and push forward, if Hassan is still here he’s up ahead” Ghost gave the order, Soap clearly didn’t agree but there was no time for discussion. You whistled for their attention.

“Armoured vehicles closing in, there’s four of ‘em” you stated, watching them roll into the darkness through your goggles.

The men adjusted their stances, “let ‘em get close” Ghost ordered, clearly thinking about conserving energy and ammo. You nodded.

Just as they came close enough, the three of you let bullets free, the enemy returning it back with the same fever. To your relief the skys growled over head, barely noticeable through the shrouds of smoke, turrets of bullets rained down by the hundreds, air support cleared the way for you to move up the hill.

A soldier from bravo team radioed through from where he was covering your position, “all clear lieutenant, no movement ahead” he stated.

Ghost replied straight away with a simple “rog”.

Ghost turned, not specifically toward you but toward the entirety of the wreckage, darkened eyes scanning the carnage. His thumb pressed into the button of his comms device, “air support, task a bird for casualty evac” it crackled as he waited for a response.

“Roger that lieutenant” they quickly responded.

Soap and Ghost led the way out of the wreckage and you quickly followed after them. “Alpha you’re with us” Ghost shouted, a number of soldiers joined you as they answered back a “yes sir” in unison.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire and your ribcage felt weak, hollow-boned like that of a bird. The pain was piercing you, like needles pressing deep down into the fibres of your muscles. But you kept on, legs carrying you along with the others, pure adrenaline being your only saving grace at this point. You hissed in pain as your damaged knee almost gave way beneath you, the lieutenant noticed.

“They used us for fucking bait, didn’t they?” you growled, trying your best not to look like you were struggling. Ghost cocked his head toward you.

“They’re well supplied and fighting smart, thanks to Hassan” he put it simply. Soap chimed in.

“Aye. Looks like you were right, Lt.” he said.

Your eyes took in the scene in front of you, fire and explosions lighting the way. “You think Hassan’s still here?” You asked, eyes and borrowed hand gun still aiming forward.

“Heli crash gave ‘em an opening. Let’s see if they took it” Ghost was a realist. Good to know.

All of you continued to run. Breaths heaving and bodies aching. Adrenaline fuelled your blood, you moved up quickly, arriving at the last building. You went to take positions when fire rained toward you, a soldier only inches to your left dropped, caught in the line of a sniper.

“Man down!” you shouted, unable to look at the man as you took his rifle. You dropped low as everyone around you did the same, focusing fire on the roof top of the building.

“AQ has got night vision” Soap stated the obvious, taking out two snipers simultaneously. You grunted in response, focusing your eye through the scope and taking out another shooter up ahead.

“Clear” Ghost shouted. “Move up. Let’s find Hassan, dead or alive” his tone shifted, dangerous now.

You made it to the house. Clearing the first floor, dropping anyone that moved. “We need positive ID on Hassan, check the bodies” you barked out to the soldiers behind you, sticking with Soap and Ghost as they continued to move on.

It was all negative. No positive ID from any of the bodies, he wasn’t upstairs either. The three of you continued, a door flung open, before they could even move to fire their weapon, Ghost shot a round into their stomach and another into their skull. Dropping them effortlessly like it was nothing.

The house was wrecked. A twisted mess of broken brick and fractured stone, electrical wire looming low overhead firing sparks in all directions. You stuck close to Soap as he followed Ghost, noticing that there was a voice playing through something- you all moved toward it, heading up more stairs. Ghost broke the door with a kick, no positive on Hassan, just his propaganda playing on loop through a laptop.

“Hassan’s everywhere” Ghost growled and

“Everywhere but here” Johnny scoffed.

You split off, heading off alone through more of the upstairs, the boys didn’t noticed you’d gone. They’d clearly continued on thinking you were right there behind them. You pointed your gun around the door frame of an upstairs corridor, your body following as you perceived it to be clear. Last minute, bullets flew through a compromised section of the dry wall, heading straight towards you. By some luck, you’d managed to dodge them, leering forward behind a protruding structure in the wall and retaliating with your own fire. You cleared the corridor and entered the room that the target had been guarding. Hassan had been in there.

Ghost and Soap must have been alerted by the gun fire, they came in hot, practically sprinting to your location. They stopped short in the doorway, your back was towards them, their eyes searched the room. You turned towards them, a uniform jacket scrunched tightly in your fist.

“Hassan’s uniform” you seethed. Mactavish gave out a grunt.

“So he was here” he flailed an arm in frustration. Ghost remained in the doorway, his eyes low.

“Lost him when we secured the crash site” he said simply, lowly.

The weight of Ghost’s words hit you in the chest like a bullet, but you knew they shouldn’t have, deep down you knew he was right. Soap was standing between you and Ghost, his eyes darting between the two of you.

“Are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” Soap squared his shoulders. Ghost just shrugged.

“Choices have consequences”. It was just that simple.

“All bravo, we’ve got movement out here” the voice hit through your ear piece, breaking the tension in the room.

“On the way” Ghost confirmed.

The three of you continued on. Moving back the way you’d come and heading out towards the rest of the team, they’d seen movement in a warehouse up ahead. All of Bravo and what was left of Alpha moved in, lighting up fire when they reached the rolling doors. More soldiers dropped. Shot dead. You all kept pushing through, eyes through scopes and fingers on triggers. You broke off, tucking and rolling behind a metal container, opening more fire as you pushed the enemy back with forcible ammunition. Ghost was on your tail, following after you and overtaking, pushing on through. Soap was up next and came to cover you, locking his palms together to make it easier for you to hoist yourself up on top of the container. There was another container there to keep you shielded, it gave you a vantage point over the targets that had tried to retreat to higher ground. You dropped them easily.

For what felt like the first time in hours, everything stopped. All of the noise. Everything.

“Are we clear?” Soap shouted up to you, you let out a laboured breath. You stuck your thumb up.

“Clear” you said. Your knees burned as you jumped down from the container, you didn’t give yourself a chance to ease yourself down.

“Search it, let’s see what they’re hiding” Ghost’s voice echoed through the now dying silence, the warehouse carrying the gravely baritone of his voice. You closed in on Johnny, following him as he approached one of the container doors that was ajar. From first look, it was controls. Panels and buttons and screens.

“What the fuck is this?” Soap queried. You looked closer.

“It’s all in English” you said, eyes still scanning frantically. Living up to his name, Ghost was suddenly there, behind you, so close you could feel his warmth at your back. You watched as Soap flipped one of the switches, the entire warehouse shook, the container vibrating and whirring.

All three of you stepped back quickly, eyes trained up watching it all unfold.

“Fucking hell” you breathed.

“Steamin’ Jesus” Soap’s jaw was on the floor.

“Ballistic missiles”. Ghost’s gaze hardened.

You frowned “it’s a mobile launcher”.

Another soldier chimed in behind you. “These will go 1,000 miles”.

“At least” Ghost added.

You stepped forward and moved around to the left of the container to get a better look, Soap wasn’t far behind.

“How the hell did Iran get their hands on this?” Soap growled in the back of his throat.

The men watched as you ascended the weapon carriers that were piled up next to the container, making quick work of the climb, a new shot of rage fuelled adrenaline kicking through your veins.

Ghost spoke up “7-6, get us through to Laswell” his eyes were still scanning the discovery in front of him.

“Roger, stand by” the soldier spoke quickly “Bravo 7-6 Charlie to Watcher-1, how copy?” You all waited for a response.

Laswell’s voice quickly chimed in “this is Watcher-1, send traffic” she spoke clearly.

“Laswell, this is Ghost. We got something” the concern was laced in his voice.

“You found Hassan?” She asked quickly.

Your eyes landed on something truly jolting. “Ghost, Soap, take a look at this” you urged, turning your neck to meet their eyes, their expression no doubt mirrored yours. Laswell’s frantic voice broke the silence again.

“Ghost, do you have Hassan?” She asked again.

You watched as Ghost pressed down the button to his comm, leaning down to speak loud and clear. “Negative. We found a weapons cache. Hassan’s got missiles, they’re American” a silence enveloped the warehouse.

“0-7 this is Gold Eagle Actual, repeat your last” General Shepherd’s voice was frantic.

“I’ll say again, Hassan has American missiles” Ghost repeated.

It’s almost as if the air was sucked from the warehouse like a vacuum. You would have heard a pin drop it was that quiet. The way you slumped down into a seated position wasn’t graceful or quiet, but you weren’t about to stand for any longer then you needed to. Soap snapped his neck toward you, his eyes searching yours, you nodded toward him with a half-arsed thumbs up. You saw in the way that his expression fell that you weren’t in a good way, the bleached lights of the warehouse would have left no injury of yours unseen to the eye. You’d lost a lot of blood but you’d make more, right now there were more important things to worry about.

Rain pattered gently across your cheeks, it’s cold chill seeping right down to your bones- forcing you to shiver. You hummed, arms crossed over your chest as you sat on the damp brick stone wall with your chin tilted skyward, more droplets cascading down your face like gentle streams over your skin.

This was probably the only thing you missed about England. The shit weather. Soaking wet springtimes and late hazy summers, rugged cold autumns and early winters smothered with snow. You struggled to remember much about them; you didn’t have fond childhood memories of building snow men and drinking hot chocolate, nor were you able to think back to a summer where you’d stay at the park all day playing football, coming home to a freezer-burnt ice cream that your mum had dug out for you.

There was none of that. None of the warm fondness or swell of nostalgic familiarity in your chest. You pushed everything away. There was nothing that you saw worthy to keep in your head; no core memories of birthdays or holidays, no movie nights in or sleepovers with friends. Your entire childhood had been stolen from you, thrown away- just like you had been.

Your memories of British summertimes were filled with laughter; water fights on the barrack fields after quitting time. Bike rides at sunrise instead of hitting the gym, even wild swims at the coast on rarer occasions.

The wet springtimes; running drills through knee high mud, purposefully hitting the ground with heavy footfalls to splash one another. Wringing out your rain soaked shirts in the locker rooms and whipping each other till your skin welted- crying with laugher till you were on the floor.

Autumn, perhaps your favourite. Walking across base - watching as the leaves fell in a blanket of umber and tawny, crunched under your boots, the smell of damp earth in the air, so fresh and free as it stole the very breath from your lungs.

Harsh winters were common, on the contrary to summer, wild swims in below freezing temperatures as part of vital training, your teeth chattering so hard you were sure they’d break. Warm hot chocolate spiced with a drop of whiskey in the evening; settled around a table, talking about everything and nothing in the communal rooms while shuffling a deck of cards- thinking about the idea of found family, realising it’s not as far out of reach as you’d thought.

Those were your memories of home, of England, your memories of the place you were born.

The military had been the making of you- there was nothing before that, you were made for this. You told yourself that on repeat, the army had saved you, put a roof over your head. There was no shadow of doubt that your life would have been very different if you hadn’t taken this route, and you were convinced that you would have been six feet under by now.

The rain was only passing. The frigid breeze carrying it ever so gently, kissing your skin. You wished a storm would come your way, wash you out and provide a much needed clarity- a reset. You did always love thunderstorms, watching the lightning split the sky, cracking and illuminating as it broke apart.

You were sitting outside. The backend of the barracks were more sheltered, further hidden from higher ups that would scald you for being outdoors so late.

After the last twenty-four hours you’d had, you should have completely crashed. Been dead to the world as soon as your head hit your pillow. But you didn’t - couldn’t. Unable to sleep, unable to settle, thoughts racing and mind following. There was so much going through your head, and that wasn’t common for you, this should have been just like any other day; any other job.

Something was different, and you knew it was far from over yet.

Soap had been by your side the entirety of the transport back to the barracks, his eyes wide and searching as he asked you question after question, barely letting you close your eyes for even a second for fear you’d slip into a coma from the blood-loss.

You wanted to bang your head against the metal of the craft as you sat there listening to him drone on. Either that or you would rip Johnny’s voice box out of his throat with your bare hands. Ghost’s fists clenched where they sat resting on his thighs.

“Leave it, Mactavish” he’d barked, clicking his tongue as he did, clearly it wasn’t just your nerves Soap was grating on.

You wanted to laugh as you watched the Scotsman shrink back in his seat, like a dog with its tail between its legs, not liking getting told off. Yet, your smile washed away, swallowed by the tension in the craft. The entire mission hadn’t gone to plan, coming up short, following dead lead after dead lead. With fatalities and injuries on top of that, it didn’t serve to keep the morale of the team up.

The three of you didn’t speak much. You could see the tiredness eating it’s way at Soap, feeling as his body grew heavier and heavier beside you in his seat. Ghost was sitting across from you, like he had done on the transport over seas chasing the dead lead, you couldn’t see him all that clearly, the night flight back to base didn’t provide much light to go by, only giving you a rough shadowed outline of where and how he was sitting.

Yet, you were sure you could feel Ghost’s mind ticking over. Almost as if you could hear the man thinking, could hear the gears turning over and over in his head as he sat there- stewing away behind that mask of his. He kept his arms folded across his chest, another barrier thrown up in defence, dead eyes glaring towards the ceiling as he rested the crown of his head against the back of his seat. He had his legs kicked out and splayed apart, resting either side of your boots, right foot tapping away in absent thought.

You hadn’t managed to sleep, didn’t even feel groggy at all, and you were always the first to sleep on transport. Usually loved getting rocked to sleep from the turbulence or terrain. There had been a running joke for years that you could sleep anywhere at anytime, your body had improved over the years at getting used to time zones and differences, it barely reached you anymore.

It was unusual. Your body wouldn’t allow you to rest, perhaps the adrenaline hadn’t subsided just yet, maybe after you’d been to medical upon landing and gotten cleaned up you’d feel better.

Negative.

Soap had marched you to the medial building as soon as you’d gotten to base, tugging you by the arm like you were a naughty child. The other soldiers had gone straight to the barracks, heading straight to their bunks to sleep off the last twenty-four hours, they’d earned it. Even Ghost went.

You shooed Johnny away as soon as you were being seen to, urging him that he didn’t have to babysit you and that he should rest up. You reminded him that this wouldn’t be a long respite. He had nodded, a smile quirking at his lips as he held out his fist, you rolled your eyes- but you bumped your fist to his nether the less.

The sweet nurse had tried to express her concerns for the state you were in, but as lovely as she was, you brushed her off. She was short and blonde, the tiredness in her pretty hazel eyes showing you she’d been in the med room since early doors. She’d urged for you to have x-rays taken of your chest, that even if your ribs were just fractured that it could potentially cause other issues if you hadn’t already punctured a lung or lacerated any other organs. You pulled a bullshit excuse out of your arse and handed it to her with the nicest of smiles, hopping down from the examination bed as you buttoned your shirt back up. She’d already cleaned and taped the wound on your head, cleaning some of your other cuts and grazes and smothering them in balm to keep anything nasty out. She sent you on your way after shoving some heavy painkillers down your throat, knowing you weren’t going to take her advice and that you’d deploy again tomorrow, and she was right- you couldn’t sit this one out now.

After leaving the medical building you’d made your way outside, and you hadn’t moved since. It must have been hours now. You stopped counting after two, letting the cold chill of the rain and wind sting your face as you perched there on that wall, content and calm. Perhaps it was the painkillers making your head foggy, calming the thrum of your blood as you stared out into the star studded darkness.

Upon hearing heavy footfalls scuffing across the concrete, you turned your attention to the source of the sound, watching a shadowy figure approaching as they descended the stairs that led back towards the main buildings. You couldn’t see all too clearly, there were no lights to illuminate the area in which you were sitting, to purposely discourage loitering. Whoever it was didn’t speak right away, you tilted your head back towards the sky, closing your eyes with a sigh. They came to a stop next to where you were sitting on the wall, not invading your space directly but barely keeping their distance.

A faint click of a lighter striking caught your attention and your eyes opened to flicker over to your left- it was Ghost.

The cigarette was already between his lips, his left hand cupping it to protect it from the wind and rain as the other hand held the lighter, dying away with a loud click.

You watched as he inhaled deeply, the swell of his chest rising as the end of the cigarette illuminated a deep amber, causing shadows to dance across his face from the glow. The mask caught you. This wasn’t the one he’d been wearing before, this one was a simple black balaclava with his characteristic skull printed onto the lower part of the face- it was already pulled up to the bridge of his nose when you had turned to look at him. There were thick smudges of black-grease paint plastered over his eye sockets, making the colour contrast with the hickory brown of his eyes.

There was something about your lieutenant that you couldn’t quite grasp fully; you’d met plenty of reserved soldiers before, closed off and more secretive about themselves and their lives outside of these walls- but Ghost was different. It’s as if there was nothing outside of these walls for him. The military and the 141 were his entire life, the reason he breathed air and woke up in a morning.

When the others made plans for leave or talked about their families, he didn’t, he’d stay and he’d listen. Never has he ever uttered so much as a word about his private life, maybe he did have one, maybe a wife and a family- but you couldn’t see it.

He was just so- unmoved. He barely showed outward concern for himself or his team, the latter more so but only if it was fatal. He knew that collateral damage was a given, he knew that every mission he deployed on he would come back with less soldiers then he left with. Ghost swallowed that pill everyday, the lives he holds in his hands, the weight of the grief on his shoulders. It was any surprise he was still standing, but you guess he was numb to it now, that’s why he didn’t feel it anymore. He was so used to death and destruction, it was starting to be ineffective at jarring him, at making him feel any kind of way about it.

Ghost pockets the lighter, reaching up and holding the cigarette between his thumb and index finger as he retracts it from his mouth, a deep-dark cloud of smoke falling from his lips as he breathes it out.

Your eyes lingered. Assessing the dressed down version of the infamous soldier as he leaned back against the wall. His boots and trousers were what was left of his uniform, from the waist up he was wearing a charcoal coloured jacket with a high collar that he’d pulled up, covering what you could see of a simple black undershirt peeking out from between the zipper of his jacket.

The darkness didn’t provide your eyes well, only when he took a drag of his cigarette could you see the outlines of the lower half of his face. Even then, you didn’t risk staring, despite your- curiosity he was still your lieutenant.

It’s normal to be curious- you keep telling yourself. He’s your lieutenant; your point of call, your lifeline when you’re out there risking life and limb. Yet, you’ve never seen his face, would never be able to pick him out in a sea of hundreds. He doesn’t owe you anything, you’re new to his charge, under his wing so to speak, but you’re leading this mission with him and Johnny- the least you should be able to ask for is some truths. Everything about him is redacted, save for his name, even then that had been hard enough to get, apparently everything about him was on a need to know basis.

The man took a long-heavy drag of his cigarette. “How’s your head?” He asked flatly, his eyes trained forward as he spoke.

His voice might not have been loud, but you’d been in silence for hours, the gravely tone of his voice hammered straight through to your bones. You watched him out the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine” you said, not really wanting to elaborate in case he tried to catch you out.

Ghost hummed “you sure about that?” He queried, tone a little harder.

When you craned your neck to look at him fully this time you found he was already looking at you, his eyes pointedly focused on the tape holding the left side of your forehead together. You didn’t take your eyes away.

“I’m very sure” you reiterated, hoping he’d drop the subject, you had a feeling he wouldn’t.

“And the punctured lung?” You stiffened. How did he know? He pushed himself up from leaning back against the wall and turned his body so he was parallel to you now, his right hip leaning into the brick as his right elbow kept him propped there. He had let go of his cigarette, his lips keeping it secure as he continued to smoke it, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth.

You gathered your thoughts in your head, thinking of the best response you could give. The man spoke before you could.

“Your silence tells me a lot, sergeant” he huffed, taking ahold of his cigarette once more as he returned to his prior position, mirroring the way you faced forward. You kissed your lips against your teeth.

“I’m fine” you said again, you saw no point in trying to persuade him, he’d clearly already made up his mind.

Ghost made some kind of noise in the back of his throat and you heard him rooting for something in his pocket. You were surprised when a cigarette was held out towards you. You frowned, casting your eyes over to him to find he was still staring forward, mouth devoid of a cigarette and his free hand stuffed into his pocket, he’d clearly smoked it right down to the filter and ditched it.

How could you think you could lie to him? He’d seen first hand the pain you were in, so much pain you couldn’t see straight, blood staining your face as you fought for a singular breath to enter your lungs.

He was testing you now. If you refused the cigarette then he’d assume it was because you were still in pain with your lungs and chest, if you took it then perhaps he would lay off.

You made up your mind, brushing your fingers over his as you took the smoke from his hold. You placed it between your dry lips, you were still in your full gear and you knew you had a lighter somewhere, before you could start your search- Ghost already had you covered. His hand extended out toward your face with the flame dancing and licking at the breeze, you leaned in close and cupped both of your hands around his as it held the lighter, inhaling deeply as the earthy taste of the tobacco hit the back of your throat.

You’d smoked causally and socially throughout your entire army career, surely smoking through one cigarette without as much as a splutter would be easy enough.

Ghost retracted his hand and pocketed his lighter again, watching you smoke from the corner of his eye. You could feel his eyes on you, so you purposefully didn’t look his way, you gazed off into the pitch black, eyes struggling to focus on anything at all.

He stuffed both of his hand into his pockets, enjoying the quiet, listening only to the steady pattering of soft rain against the brick and concrete and the gentle sound of your steady breaths exhaling the smoke.

You weren’t about to admit that he was right, but he was right. The nicotine dried your lungs and the tickle of tobacco at the roof of your mouth and back of your throat had you gagging to cough, mixed with the subtle metallic taste of your own blood that still lingered on your palate. It wasn’t a delightful mix. You decided to distract yourself.

“Anyway, how come you aren’t asleep, Lt?” You asked, genuinely intrigued. The man quirked a brow, or at least, it looked like he did.

“Could ask the same to you” He was right but you asked first. You tutted.

“I’ve been with medical” you countered, thinking you’d caught him out.

“Three hours ago” he gifted flatly. Fuck. You shrugged him off.

“I lost track of time” you took his silence as his answer.

It was obvious that he hadn’t come out here just to smoke, there was something he needed to say, and you wished he would just spit it out. He shifted his stance, like he was in pain, you almost asked if he was okay, but thought better of it. He was more then capable of looking out for himself, when you were out in the field you’d worry and watch his six, back here- you’d leave him to it.

Ghost sighed “it’s been advised that you don’t ship out tomorrow” his words cut through you, his softened tone did nothing to soften the blow. You stiffened, shoulders squaring off as you took a deep inhale of the cigarette.

“On what grounds?” You asked quickly, tone shifting. He noticed.

“Medical” he spoke while looking at you pointedly, you laughed.

“Wow” you shook your head with a disbelieving smile “you take a little bump to the head these days and that gets you grounded?” Your question was entirely rhetorical, your head was the least severe of your injuries.

Ghost shifted his weight, still looking at you, watching as the emotions played out on your face. “listen to me-“ you cut him off.

“No, it’s bullshit” you stated with a scrunched frown creasing your face, still heaving plumes of smoke as you spoke.

“Oi” the lieutenant barked, making you freeze and look at him. “I’ve dismissed it” he said, his calm front falling back into place. Just another mask to add.

Your eyes blew wide. “You- what?” You asked, confused. He sighed, reaching over to pluck the cigarette from between your fingers, bringing it up to his own lips to take a drag.

“I think it’s best we finish what we started- all of us” he said, puffs of smoke escaping his lips between his words. He handed the cigarette back to you as he continued, watching as you brought it to your own lips to continue smoking it. “You handled the crash well” he said “would have had more fatalities if you hadn’t have helped when you did” it was clear that he believed what he was saying, you didn’t take Ghost as someone who minced his words, he said it how it was.

“Thank you” you said, simply, returning your gaze to the dark sky, rain still falling gently.

It took a few seconds for Ghost’s words to settle. You furrowed your brow in thought, offering the cigarette back to him, which he gladly took. A comfortable blanket of silence fell over you, the next few minutes were simply nothing. A void in conversation that wasn’t forced or awkward, it was just- natural. The two of you passed the cigarette between one another wordlessly, Ghost taking the longest and final drag till it was down to the end of the filter before he flicked it away, stomping it out with the heel of his boot. This signalled that it was time to call it a night, or a morning, you didn’t know what time it was. You pushed yourself down from the wall, groaning and cracking your joints as you stretched out, sitting in the cold for this long wouldn’t have done you any good.

Ghost pushed himself up from where he’d been leaning against the brick, now you were standing here, parallel to one another, you could see just how tall he was in comparison to you. Even the width of his shoulders were almost twice that of yours. You were forced to look up to meet his eyes, those cold-dead eyes of his. He tilted his chin down to see you clearer, that usual frown of his under the mask gone, no where to be seen. His expression was soft, almost content. You broke the silence.

“Thank you Lt” you said, watching the fabric over his brow furrow. “For not grounding me” you added. His eyes softened slightly.

“Don’t let me regret it” his voice was gruff, maybe even tired.

Your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark, but he was so close you could faintly see the outline of his jaw and lips as he spoke. There was only a scant amount of space between you and him. You didn’t fight the urge to reach up your hand and pinch the mask where it was pushed up against his nose- yanking it down in one swift movement. He let you do it. Didn’t even move to stop you. “Better to keep your anonymity Lt” you said, smiling softly as you moved to walk past him and head toward the steps. He turned his shoulders slowly toward you.

“You know my name” he said flatly, barely amused by your attempt to joke with him.

He was right, you did know his name, but that took the fun out of it.

You sighed “Come on, Riley. Time to get some shut eye, before we get in trouble for being out here” you adopted a horrific Manchester accent as you spoke, whatever drugs that nurse had given you, they were pretty fuckin’ wicked. Ghost clearly didn’t agree, but he also didn’t correct you when you used his surname. That was a feat in itself.

“I’m a lieutenant, what the fuck are they gonna say to me?” he grumbled, mostly to himself, but you had heard him.

You laughed softly, something warm swelling in your chest. Your initial perception of him had been cold and disconnected, he presented himself as a man who existed solely for his role within the military. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, you were sure you’d find out. Your exchange with him this evening had showed you that he was observant and truly did value each and every soldier in his platoon. He wasn’t allowing you to be medically grounded because he believed you would be an asset to the continuation of this mission, if that man had any doubt about the severity of your injuries and the chance that you could slow them down- he would have you grounded in a heart beat. He was giving you a chance, and you were determined to show him he was right to trust you and your judgement.

You held onto this feeling as the two of you climbed the stairs, entering the halls of the barracks and parting ways to your respected quarters.

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headlines-headlines · 3 months ago

Text

REST & RECOVERY.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

★ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! You were almost too used to seeing Tanjiro in a battered state, suppressing your feelings every time the slayer was sent on a mission. Enduring constant sleepless nights, praying he'd make it back in one piece. Just how oblivious was he to your aching heart? Is there a way Tanjiro could ever make it up to you?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! female bodied reader, very slightly tsun reader (i can’t help itt), smut (dur), recovering tanjiro, sneaky sex, lovemakinggg, piningggg, slight angst, pet name use, raw sex. All characters are of the appropriate age in this work.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.5k (why am I allergic to writing short fics...)

𝐚/𝐧: call me butter cuz i'm on a rollllll. lol, tried adding more feelings to this one, sooo enjoy!! ;) (divider: @cafekitsune)

Kneeling on the cool wooden walkway outside the Butterfly Mansion, your hands scrubbed at the stubborn stains that clung to soaking garments. You let your thoughts pass peacefully, slipping into a tranquil daze as you focused on the task at hand, dutifully completing your chores whilst the other attendants worked within the Mansion.

It was another quiet, sunny afternoon, with the sounds of cooking, cleaning, and light chatter echoing around the estate. Views of the lush greenery in the courtyard welcomed a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the bickering and yelling that normally surrounded you when your slayer friends were all under the same roof. The lively trio you knew and loved were away on another mission, their longest one yet, and the uncertainty of their well-being lightly tugged at your heartstrings— a sensation you were no stranger to at this point. Each mission was riskier than the last, the boys sporting insane injuries upon their return, nearly fatal each time. Especially Tanjiro, his protective and righteous nature always causing him to suffer the brunt of whatever attacks were thrown towards his teammates.

You quickly shook your head, clearing your mind of the incoming gruesome images, and just decided to enjoy the temporary quiet in the meantime, knowing they would soon return. Hopefully safe and sound. Although, deep down, you knew the chances of a bloody aftermath were too high to ignore.

The soft sounds of splashing water and foaming soap filled your ears, slowly drawing you back into the present, until you could sense a commotion drawing near.

A panicked, frenzy of clashing voices grabbed your attention, sending you scrambling to your feet, almost knocking over the bucket full of laundry and water. It seemed as if a small mob was forming just behind the other side of the gate, forcing the kakushi from inside the manor to hurriedly rush past you and towards the source of all the racket. You were hearing buzzwords like 'medic!', 'help!', 'quickly!', being shouted full of urgency and alarm.

'What on earth was happening??' You thought to yourself, stunned as you watched the fearsome scene unfold before your eyes. The gates were flung open, numerous kakushi shouldering the weight of badly injured swordsmen, bringing them into the estate.

Your stomach sunk, seeing your friends' faces scrunched up in agony, expressions of pain and exhaustion written all over them. Your eyes landed on a familiar redhead, with his sister's arms wrapped around his midsection, guiding his battered body towards the mansion with the help of other kakushi.

'Tanjiro!' You screamed internally, a hand raised to cover your mouth, which hung open in shock. Your heart almost leapt out of your chest at the sight of him. He was definitely alive, but it seemed as if the beatings he had received had left him on right on death's doorstep. To your horror, the other two of the trio, Zenitsu and Inosuke, looked equally wounded. Dried and smeared blood, deep scratches, broken bones, darkening bruises, it was all too much to witness. You could never get used to seeing them like this, it was so frightening each time.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you flew off the walkway, rushing towards the swordsmen. Your sandals hit the ground as you ran, kicking up dirt in its wake. A barely conscious Tanjiro lifted his head ever so slightly to watch as your figure approached him, cracking a pained smile at the sight of you.

His vision was blurry as ever, but it was hard to ignore the aura of worry and panic that surrounded you, his dear friend. He hated having to return to you in such a state, however he knew this result came with the territory of being a demon slayer.

"[F/n]..., I'm back," his hoarse, broken voice greeted you. "We did it." Those few words, full of grief-stricken triumph, were the most he could muster as he started to slip in and out of consciousness.

"Tanjiro! Oh Gods...," jumbled speech tumbled past your lips. Your hands immediately came up to touch him, but stopped short of his torn jacket, afraid to make contact. You glanced at Nezuko, her sorrowful eyes meeting your own. You took a moment to look at the rest of her. Although her injuries were nearly healed, you could see the remnants of a fierce battle in the state of her clothing. A bloodied, ruined yukata, disheveled hair, and light scratches slowly dissolving into her skin. Tears pricked at your eyes, welling up and blurring your vision. But you held them back, assuming the position of the kakushi at Tanjiro's side, shouldering his weight and trudging towards the infirmary together.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

The past few weeks were trying, filled with suturing, bandaging, and administering healing balms to the injured boys, making sure they were on the path to a full recovery. As a non-combative slayer in the Butterfly Mansion, your role was mostly dedicated to research and drug experimentation alongside the insect Hashira Shinobu. However, in cases like these, medical aid was another duty you were expected to carry out, luckily for you, it was one of your strong suits.

There was almost no end to the bloodied sheets and tools, but alas, you knew you needed to be the one to do the job. But to the boys' dismay, after providing them with their much needed medical care, you would swiftly exit as quickly as you entered. You no longer lingered around to chat, becoming less and less fond of being faced with evidence of their impending ruin. Graphic imagery was not something you could easily stomach, despite all your experience, and the jarring feeling of knowing your loved ones may one day be ripped away from you—again, hardened your heart into stone.

Your growing distance did not go unnoticed, especially not by Tanjiro. He started to pick up on your curt responses whenever you were around long enough to talk. Not even humoring the bickering sessions that Zenitsu or Inosuke would engage in, like you usually would. Now avoiding his eyes, a notable difference compared to the times you would gaze at him with such tenderness. His warmth seemed to hit a wall with you, unable to reach. It deeply saddened him, the thick scent of sorrow following you everywhere you went. He couldn't help but feel, guilty, hoping he wasn't burdening you with the traumatic aftermath of his battles. He was at a standstill, unable to figure out what he could do to make it up to you. He missed your affection more than you knew, and was going to earn it back. Some way, somehow.

Deep orange hues of a setting sun streamed in through the windows, illuminating the infirmary with a warm glow as the three men lay sleeping in their beds, quiet snores reverberating in the room. They had been healing quite well, gaining back their energy little by little, however, the strength of the medicinal teas and serums they were frequently ordered to ingest could easily knock out an adult horse.

"Thanks Aoi," you whispered, grabbing the pail of water and clean rags from your friend. Your voices were hushed as to not wake up the sleeping swordsmen.

"No problem. But let me know if you need any help, okay? You don't have to do this all by yourself y'know...," Aoi replied, a look of concern gracing her features.

"It's alright. Wouldn't be the first time," You laughed dryly, shooting her a half-hearted smile, as to not worry her any further.

"Okay, if you say so," she said softly, a bittersweet tone in her voice as she left you to work.

Turning to face your sleeping friends, you sighed as you quietly pulled up a chair next to their beds, rags and pail in hand. You started with Zenitsu, moving his blonde locks away from his forehead to run a cool, damp rag across his face, wiping away sweat and bringing down his temperature. You moved his blanket down to reach his neck, and any exposed skin around the chest area of his sleepwear, then folded the cloth into a neat rectangle to place above his brow. The same routine was repeated for Inosuke, moving his mask further away from his pillow to give you some space to work. Last was Tanjiro. Hesitantly, you approached his bed and sat in your chair next to him.

Solemnly, you watched how his chest rose and fell, a peaceful expression on his face as he slept, hinting nothing of the horrors he had seen not too long ago. His deep crimson hair framed his handsome features, luring you in to brush any wayward strands from his face. It would be an understatement to say you missed him while he was away. It was a little unfair to the other two, but Tanjiro's presence was special to you. His ability to ease your mind and comfort you so willingly whenever you needed him, drew the two of you closer. Whether it was engaging in playful banter, or sharing a long conversation to alleviate the stress of your day-to-day duties, you could always count on the redhead to brighten your day. It surprised you a little— just how quick he could coax you out of your reserved demeanor. A hand on your shoulder or a warm hug immediately melting your stern exterior. But you no longer allowed yourself to openly indulge, only yielding when you were alone or he was asleep, unable to question your behavior.

Bringing the dampened cloth to his face, you gingerly wiped his skin. Your touches were gentle, afraid to hurt him any further, as if he would break if you pressed hard enough. You admired his unwavering strength and resilience, but it never failed to leave a bitter taste in your mouth, knowing how much he had to endure. But without skipping a beat, he'd always come back to you, facing everyone with the same warm smile and firm optimism.

As you cleaned him, your mind wandered to your past conversations, eventually bringing you back to your most recent chat, occurring the night before he left.

★ ★ ★

It was pretty late, and Tanjiro happened to be awake, unable to sleep after much tossing and turning. Certain things had been weighing heavily on his mind, so he figured it would help to sit outside for a bit. Enjoying some fresh air and admiring the nighttime view of the estate would surely do him some good.

On the other hand, after working tirelessly for several hours on a new concoction in the butterfly lab, you decided to call it a night, making a few stops on the way back to your room. That's when you had found him outside, a scolding already waiting for him on the tip of your tongue.

But as sharp as ever, Tanjiro had already sensed your presence, turning to greet you.

"Oh! Hello [F/n]," He softly called out to you with a smile. "Couldn't sleep either?"

After seeing him in such a relaxed state, you bit back the fierce lecture you intended to give him, instead opting to park next to him with a sigh. He wasn't disturbing anyone, so you would just let him be for now.

"I was stuck in the lab all day. But unlike someone, I was actually heading to bed just now," you chided, giving a playful roll of your eyes.

He chuckled a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement at your faux attitude. He never took your sternness personally, knowing there was a sweet side of you hidden just beyond the surface.

"Well I'm glad you decided to join me, it's always nice to see you," he replied warmly, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You ignored the blush threatening to creep up your cheeks. It's like he knew exactly what to say to make you feel all flustered and clammy.

"Yeah yeah, It's nice seeing you too," you murmured, breaking his strong gaze to focus on something else, like the way his sleep shirt lightly billowed in the cool night air. "But seriously, why are you out here so late? You know lights out was a while ago, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he began, his tone taking a more somber turn. "If I'm being honest, ...I've been struggling to sleep for a while. After each mission, it's gotten harder to shake some of the things I've seen." His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and you could practically see the images flickering through his brain of past encounters with demons.

Your heart faltered a bit. You knew killing such unsightly creatures must've taken an enormous toll on him. His mental fortitude was unlike anything you’ve ever seen, however, his tattered body and soul after each mission couldn’t be ignored.

Scooting a little closer, you reached out and placed a light hand on his shoulder, in an effort to comfort him.

“I’m sorry to hear that Tanjiro… I wish you would’ve let me know sooner,” you said, patting his shoulder & looking back into his eyes with all the sincerity you could muster.

“I know I probably can’t help with the mental part of your missions, but it’s my job to make sure you recover physically too. And that includes sleeping properly. If there’s anything, and I mean anything you need from me, don’t hesitate to let me know… because I do… care about you and whatnot…” you stated, trailing off a little towards the end. However, you maintained an expression of deep concern and seriousness, hoping your words reached him. You wanted him to understand you would be there for him no matter what. Not just as another member of the corps, but as his friend.

Tanjiro’s eyes widened for a moment, mouth slightly agape from processing your words. But without skipping a beat, a look of genuine happiness washed over his face. His gentle smile returned, and his hand came up to softly pat the top of your head.

“I appreciate that, [F/n]. I’m glad to have a wonderful friend like you by my side,” He replied, gently smoothing your strands. He watched a look of relief brighten up your beautiful features. In truth, he held back the urge to state that he did need something from you. More than just your medical care and aid. He knew that deep down, he wanted a place in your heart. Even though the trials and tribulations of being a demon slayer often broke it. But he held his tongue, knowing he would be asking for too much. He could not guarantee you the love you deserved, much less his own life after each mission. But it was why he fought so hard each time, to protect the ones he loved. To protect you.

Meanwhile, you were tempted to swat his hands away from your scalp. But you had to admit, it felt pretty nice. You secretly relished in the moments where Tanjiro would dote on you, as an affectionate older brother would. Not that you would ever tell him such a thing.

“Of course. Anytime,” you replied.

You both sat there for a moment, gazes turning back to the pretty moonlight illuminating the courtyard. Not realizing how close the two of you had become. Physically.

Tanjiro’s arm had wrapped around your back in a side embrace, a hand cupping your right arm comfortably. You leaned on his chest, his shoulder supporting your head. You nestled more into the heat of his body, soothed by the light drum of his heartbeat. And you both stayed like that for a while. Not speaking, simply enjoying each other’s company.

It didn’t occur that you should be leaving, until your eyes snapped open, the muted hues from the approaching sunrise invading your vision.

Did you doze off? Goodness, for how long?? You could feel Tanjiro’s cheek & chin basically forming an imprint atop your head from the weight of his body. His arms totally enveloped your figure in a bear-hug embrace. Was he always this heavy? Or was it because he was so… close?

At least he smelled good. Really good too. Smoky undertones, with notes of light wisteria emanated from him and clung to his night shirt. And just when did you wrap your arms around his waist, cuddling him so tightly? It was certainly too late— er, rather too early to be out here. You both should’ve been on your way to bed by now.

Hastily unwrapping your body from his grasp, you happened to wake up the also snoozing Tanjiro, who reluctantly came to after feeling the loss of your body heat. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he noticed your frazzled state.

“Mmh… [F/n]? What’re you—��

“Uh— I should go.” You blurted out, face exploding with heat at the realization of you spending most of the night with him. A little disoriented, you quickly rose to your feet, smoothed a hand over your clothes, and shot him a quick ‘goodbye!’ before speeding off in the direction of your room.

Tanjiro watched you leave, quite abruptly in fact, and couldn’t help but laugh softly to himself, the scent of embarrassment right on your tail.

★ ★ ★

You had just finished wiping down the three young men in the infirmary room, and was now in the process of gathering your things to leave, when the sound of rustling sheets caught your attention. You quickly glanced in the direction of the noise, only to be met with the familiar sleeping faces of the injured men.

A sigh of relief escaped you and you turned back around, continuing to place all used cloths into the bucket.

“[F/n]..?”

Tanjiro’s voice, laced with raspiness from his slumber, called out your name.

You chose not to engage, turning on your heel to leave, before he called out to you again.

“[F/n], wait— don’t leave. Please.” He pleaded softly, his voice dropping in volume. He just wanted a little more of your time. He regret that he couldn’t prolong your tender touch, aware that it was you who cared for him a few minutes ago.

Facing him, you could see the heavy disappointment pooling in his eyes, and consequently, averted yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, and instead, waited for him to speak.

He arose from his cot slowly, his feet meeting the cool wooden floor before he fully stood, lightly stretching his limbs with a yawn. His sleeping shirt was left atop his sheets, allowing you to see his broad chest and abdomen— peppered with long-faded bruises and scar tissue resembling the shape of slashes. His battle scars. His pajama pants hung loosely around his hips, encouraging your eyes to follow the path where his skin dipped underneath, the defined shape of a v protruding from—

‘What am I doing? I should wrap this up quick so I can go’

You dismissed any wayward thoughts crossing your mind, ignoring the creaking of the floorboards as he made his way over to you.

“[F/n]…”

Gods, he needed to stop saying your name like that. Softening his voice to damn near a whisper, trying to coax you out of your hiding place, as if you were a stray kitten.

You kept your eyes trained on the skin of his chest, which was a foot or two away from your face now.

“Are you… upset with me?” Tanjiro looked down to find you refusing to meet his eyes, reaching forward when a few strands of hair fell in front of your face as you looked down at your socks.

You paused for a moment, chewing your bottom lip, trying to gather your thoughts. He was standing so close, and you imagined how mortifying it would be if he saw your quickly reddening face. You almost didn’t register the swipe of his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear.

“No, Tanjiro. I just— I don’t think we should talk… well, not about this, not here…,” your thoughts came out jumbled, and you were suddenly having such a hard time speaking.

Without much of a response, the redhead took your hand in his, and started off in a random direction away from the infirmary, tugging you along with him.

“Woah—! Can you slow down?”

He didn’t answer. His grip was firm and unchanging, and you found yourself being yanked in the direction of a supply closet, to then be pulled inside with him.

In total darkness, there were sounds of a door clicking shut and some shuffling, before the cord to a lamp was pulled, illuminating the confined space.

You’ve only been in this closet maybe a handful of times? Just to quickly grab medical supplies, cleaning materials, and other miscellaneous items that lined the shelves on the wall— in instances where you couldn’t make it to the larger ones. You kept your trips short due to the the restricted amount of space in the room, which could probably only hold around 5-6 people (un)comfortably. Needless to say, the proximity between the two of you shrunk further than what it was in the infirmary.

“…Tanji—”

“Why have you been avoiding me, [F/n]?” Tanjiro placed both of his hands on your shoulders.

For a second, you thought he was going to rattle you back and forth like a snow globe. Or even gift you with one of his famous headbutts. However, he held a serious expression, eyes scanning your face for signs of an answer, any indication of what was brewing inside that head of yours. With his sense of smell, he could pick up on inklings of several emotions. Anger. Hurt. Sadness. Even guilt. As well as something else he couldn’t quite place a finger on, its depth was strange and confusing.

You snapped your head up to meet him, a look of incredulity as clear as day. There was no way he could be so clueless.

"Are you kidding me?" You hissed, narrowing your eyes at him. "Am I just supposed to sit by and watch you get killed?"

Tanjiro had to admit, he was a little taken aback. He was moreso expecting you to lash out about something he may have said or done, much less a fear of something so gruesome. You watched his shoulders fall a bit, concern now paintings features. Not waiting for a response, you continued.

"I'm not sure I can do this anymore... watching you all suffer like that… so often...," you struggled to finish, taking a step back. Your throat closed up each time you attempted to swallow the lump lodged in it. Several memories of the boys returning within an inch of their lives, flooded your mind. Burning tears welled up quickly, and you forcefully blinked them back.

"I don't know how much more I can take...," your voice cracked. Hot, fat droplets began to roll down the curve of your cheeks, streaking your face with tears.

You felt strong arms gently pulling you into his chest, and wrapping around your back. Your face was pressed to his warm skin, tears staining the area.

"Oh [F/n]... I'm so sorry... I didn't know." He consoled you while you quietly sniffled, trying to hold back the overwhelming emotions crashing over you in waves. His hands rubbed giant circles around your back, coming up to cradle your head. "I didn't know you were suffering so much, and all alone..."

"What would I do? If you never came back?...How am I supposed to move on?" You hiccuped, your words muffled the way you hid your face so deeply, flushed with embarrassment.

"It's okay," He whispered into your hair, lightly rocking you from side to side. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm sorry I've made you worry so much, love."

You pulled back a bit, craning your head up to examine his features. He gazed upon you with such heartfelt concern, that you had no other option but to let your hardened exterior melt away once more.

"You promise?" You repeated. One of his hands came up to swipe away drying tears with his thumb, holding your face in his palm. The other was placed at the small of your back.

"I promise."

Your eyes trailed from his burgundy orbs to his warm smile, and down to the taut chest with your now-dry tears displayed.

His thumb inched closer to your puffy lips, smoothing over your bottom lip, eyes trained on your little pout. Everything about you was undeniably beautiful. His heart soon became heavy. He couldn't believe he was the source of so much of your pain, and better yet, failed to notice your suffering. His pretty companion. Tanjiro intended to rectify the situation in any way he could.

The complicated scent his nose was picking up on earlier had grown tremendously, now a bit more recognizable. You were sexually frustrated in a way, with all these negative feelings suppressing any urge you had to express romance, affection, or anything similar. He would take care of that. He would take care of you.

"Can I make it up to you, [F/n]?" He breathed, his eyes low. It was more of a suggestion than a question, as he leaned in, taking note of the way your eyes had already fluttered closed, anticipating the touch of his lips.

"Ye— mmph!" Your reply was cut short with the soft collision of his lips on yours. You couldn't deny the way you wanted him, locking lips in a rhythmic fashion, and following his lead. The kiss was romantic, passionate, with feelings of warmth and desperation seeping through. His rough hands trailed down to grab the flesh of your ass, palming and squeezing it. You let soft, wanton moans slip past your mouth, and he swallowed them all, tongue now hotly wrestling with yours.

His hand trailed back upwards to undo the knot in the back of your apron, pulling away to slip it off, then reattaching his lips to yours.

The apron lay discarded on the floor as you continued to lock lips with the redhead, pants and heated breaths now filling the small space.

Pulling away, Tanjiro admired the way you looked. So soft and sweet, he wanted to shower you in affection. He knew it wouldn't make up for the pain you've experienced, however he was determined to try. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, hands caressing the sides of your face, then holding the first button of your jacket between his fingers.

"Can I?" The request came. He needed to know you were okay with this, and if you'd allow him to take care of you in any way he could.

"Yeah," you nodded, a little bashfully. You couldn't really look him in the eyes while he unbuttoned your uniform jacket, revealing the bindings you wore underneath, holding your breasts.

Tanjiro smiled softly, finding your slight embarrassment to be endearing.

"You know, every inch of you is beautiful," he began, as your eyes rose to meet his. "I'd like to prove it to you, if you'd let me."

Hands trailed up your waist, cupping your tits through the fabric, squeezing and slipping underneath to meet skin. He pulled you in more, with a hand returning to the small of your back, and the other pawing at your breast, finding the nipple and lightly tweaking it. Chaste, warm kisses trailed from your jawline down to your collarbone, and you felt yourself arching into him, melting under his touch. You allowed his hands to roam freely, slipping off your bindings, and holding your tits in place for his mouth to latch on.

The temperature in the closet soared, and you felt as if most of it was condensed within your body, the way Tanjiro's touches lit you on fire. You were struggling to keep quiet, even more so when you felt the rough pads of his fingers slip past the waistband of your skirt and panties, finding your clit.

"Oh... fuckkk," you drawled, feeling his fingers rubbing circles on your sensitive nub. His breath fanned your neck as he pressed his body to yours, fingers keeping a steady pace. Your hips had a mind of their own, bucking into his hand a few times, whines and gasps falling past your lips. Jolts of electrifying pleasure shot through you, and you could feel yourself coating his fingers with your slick the more he rubbed your pussy.

"Pleasepleaseplease..." you begged, rocking your hips more into his hand while he held you in place. You were almost there.

"That's it, keep going my love," Tanjiro doted on you, encouraging you to chase your high under him.

The tightness in the pit of your abdomen grew, your cunt spasming around him. You couldn't hold back much longer.

"C-cummingg, i'm cumminggg," you whined, eyes fluttering as you let the tension snap, creaming on his fingers.

Tanjiro felt you coming undone, rubbing your wetness around the opening of your entrance. He used the lubrication to push in a middle finger into your heat, feeling how you tightened around the intrusion.

"Good girl, you can give me another one right?" he praised you.

You groaned at the feeling of being stretched open with only a single finger, an orgasm softening the sensation. Curling it, his finger rubbed against your plush walls, soon being joined by another, then another, making it a tight fit. Your head lolled back, the sounds of your sopping wet cunt filling your ears. You lifted a leg around his hip, for easier access, as he steadily pumped in and out. His eyes were trained on you, watching your expression as you mindlessly ground into his hand more, still recovering from when you first came. You were already reaching your next peak rapidly, struggling to catch your breath.

"Hnghh... Again... it's gonna– i'm gonna-!" Your words melted into gibberish as you found yourself cumming again, quiet, broken cries of Tanjiro's name on your tongue.

He shuddered, feeling how you twitched underneath him. His cock was straining freely in his pants, pressed against against your hip. He wasn't wearing any undergarments to catch the weeping drops of precum you elicited from him.

Picking your head up, you gazed at him with a hazy look in your eyes, cheeks rosy with an afterglow. He wanted to picture you like this forever, a beauty nestled in his arms.

Hooking his thumb under his waistband, Tanjiro pushed down his night pants with ease, letting his member spring free. You glanced down to see his cock bobbing heavily, droplets slick on his tip. His hand reached to grab underneath your knee, holding your leg up to his hip for support.

"You think you can guide me in, my pretty girl?" He sighed, the length of his cock resting underneath your slightly ajar panties.

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching for him. Your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock, giving it a test stroke. You felt how hot it was, and how you couldn't fit it all in your hand, even if you tried. You imagined how it would feel inside you.

Tanjiro focused on keeping his composure, trying not to buck into your warm hand, but how could he? The girl of his dreams was stroking his dick, and all he wanted to do was let you keep going. But instead, Tanjiro reached underneath that uniform skirt, and pulled your panties to the side, letting you insert him in. His free hand returned to holding the plush of your ass.

Using his tip to gather some wetness, you rubbed his dick on your slit, then pressed the head into you. A shaky groan left his throat, Tanjiro's eyes locked on where he disappeared under your skirt. Fitting him inside was a team effort, as there was no way you could get him inside on your own, even as wet as you were.

The redhead used his pelvis to push inch after inch into your heat, cock twitching the deeper he sunk in. The slow stretch burned, and tears threatened to prick the corners of your eyes.

Tanjiro leaned forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, comforting you through the initial pain.

"You're doing so well, pretty girl, just a little more for me, okay?" He cooed, his breaths becoming labored at your temple.

You could only mewl in response, wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting the sensation of his cock filling you up overtake you. He was impossibly deep, sliding against places you could never reach with just your fingers. Your pussy tightened around him further, bullying his still-weeping cock into wanting to cream your walls.

"S-so tight, g-gonna start moving now," Tanjiro gave a quick thrust, fully bottoming out, letting out a sultry moan at your ear. You were basically incoherent, his name a repeated mantra at your lips. He pulled his hips back, dragging his cock out, to then plunge back in, almost knocking the air out of you. His thrusts were hard and deep, passion embedded within each one. He ground his hips into yours, keeping a steady pace... he was going to savor this. He could feel his tip hitting a spongy surface, bumping at the entrance of your womb every so often, and directed his thrusts into that very spot.

Your stifled moans clashed and melded in the space, the two of you drowning in pleasure together. It felt as if no one in this world existed but the both of you in this very moment.

Tanjiro picked up the pace, leaning you back a little to reach further inside, as much as he could, the sound of skin-slapping and squelching in his ears. His deep grunts and sighs continued, each time he pounded into you.

" 's too muchh, I can'tt" you droned, feeling yet another coil twist aggressively in the pit of your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. Your standing leg grew tired, overexertion settling into your side.

"You're almost there, you can do it my love," Tanjiro whispered, intending on making you cream on his cock again, and again. Pounding into you a few more times, he felt the siren's call of your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him, then wildly spasming. You leaked all over him, soaking the front of his pants.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" He mumbled, watching your mouth fall open, eyes roll upwards, and your body shuddering underneath him.

He fucked you through your orgasm, slowing the pace once you started to come to. He let his cock drag out of you, still painfully hard. He hadn't yet finished, his dick begging for release, but he ignored it just a little longer. Fortunately though, his stamina was excellent, one of the many pros of being an experienced swordsman.

Once your eyes met his, albeit with a fucked-out expression all over your face, Tanjiro gave you a request.

"Do you think you can jump up here?" He motioned carrying something with the hand not holding your spasming thigh. "I promise i'll catch you," he cracked an amused smile at your look of disbelief.

"O-oh okay, but I don't wanna hurt you," You hesitated. You were met with a simple shake of his head, and Tanjiro tapped the side of your thigh, signaling that he stood firm on his decision. You took a deep breath, tightening your arms around his neck, and leapt up, using the last of the strength in your trembling legs.

He caught you with ease, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly, and placing his hands under your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"See? Nothing to worry about princess," he chuckled. A small whinny of protest left your throat as he reached back under your skirt to move your panties out the way. However, he wasn't careful and ended up tearing through the bottom of the underwear's fabric, with a quick ripping noise audible in the space.

Tanjiro's eyes widened, immediately meeting yours. The look of pure shock was actually a little funny, and you giggled when he sheepishly mumbled a 'sorry', placing his face in the crook of your neck.

A hand held your ass, and the other placed his cock back at your entrance, and you braced yourself for the brief stretch as he sunk you back down onto him. A strangled moan left you, and you clenched around him, letting yourself feel him drag your cunt up and down the length of his member.

Up and down, up and down, Tanjiro hands gripped the fat of your ass, bouncing you on his dick, returning to the quick pace he once had. You were leaking profusely, dripping from his dick to his balls, wetting the top of his pants even more.

Despite trying to keep it down, the sound of skin slapping echoed each time he slammed you down on his dick, the both of your hushed cries and broken grunts and moans filling the atmosphere.

Tanjiro finally felt himself nearing his peak, with your ass bouncing & clapping so well on him, sending him barreling towards his release.

"Fuck, I-I think i'm close," he groaned, his dick pulsing heavily inside you. You could feel how it throbbed harshly, bumping at your g-spot, bullying your poor cunt. She was about to come undone as well.

Tanjiro slammed your hips into his a few more times before lifting you up, shooting warm spurts of his seed all over your orgasming cunt. Quiet, breathy moans of your name fell from his lips over and over, burying it into your neck he as he rubbed his cock through your folds, smearing his seed across your cunt.

He held you for a couple more seconds, pressing slow open-mouthed kisses to your throat while coming down from his high. You sucked in deep breaths, feeling your body begin to relax after experiencing wave after wave of pleasure. You were definitely at your limit. But you couldn’t be more content, after making amends with the boy your heart yearned for.

Placing you down gently, Tanjiro made sure to keep a steady hand at your waist, guiding you.

“We should probably get ourselves cleaned up. Okay, my love?”

® 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #kny x reader #x reader #kny smut #angst #smut #tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro smut #demon slayer x reader #reader

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tetzoro · 5 months ago

Text

STARRY NIGHT — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro — actor au.

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : an inside look on the premiere of kuroo tetsuro’s big night !

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff, little suggestive in one spot — WC : 1.3k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : wrote this at work because i was so excited about going to the movies so apologies for any typos ! enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

tonight was the big night. the nonstop flashing cameras would be on him, the supportive fans screaming his name, everything was finally going to be set into place. after devoting years of his life to this series, they are finally doing another installment — arguably one of the biggest in his career.

kuroo never thought he’d love the limelight as much as he does. but maybe that’s because with all the newfound exposure and fame, he met you.

the one that’s stayed by his side since the beginning, the one that kept him grounded, the one that holds his heart in the palm of your hand. the love of his life.

the two of you were in separate rooms getting ready, both under the specialized care of your respective teams. kuroo’s make-up artists were doing finishing touches and he was eager to see you, his leg bouncing in anticipation.

you had been teasing him about this dress all week, claiming it was one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever worn. he had to see it — had to see you. the moment they were done, he was hopping out of his chair and headed to your room.

kuroo stood in the doorway as he watched you spin around in the mirror, taking in all of your beautiful glory. the rest of your team filtered out of the room, giving kuroo a congratulatory pat on the shoulder as they passed him but his eyes never left you.

the dress you wore was quite literally made for you. like an angel, you were glowing as your dress was dipped in sin. the red satin wrapped around your curves in ways that had kuroo almost envying the fabric.

“wow.” he let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding onto. the sound of his voice caught your attention, quickly spinning around to see him dazed in the doorway. “you look amazing, sweetheart.”

in three easy steps, he’s in front of you, stars filling his eyes as he drinks you in. there was never a moment kuroo didn’t think you were beautiful but this was unparalleled. to see you all dolled up for his big night tugged at his heart, his fingers moving on their own accord as they find purchase in your waist, pulling you closer.

“thank you tetsu.” you eyes shine with pride. “i’ve got to look good for your big night, right?”

“you always look good.” he dips down and gently kisses you on the cheek, careful not to smudge any of your make up. the distinct taste of setting spray lands on his lips and he tries not to pout at the lack of your own. “well? you going to compliment me now or what?”

“i was getting there.” you laugh, gently smoothing over a piece of his stubborn hair before your eyes trail along his body. he almost shivered under your thoughtful gaze. “tetsu, you look radiant. always so, so handsome. especially when you dress up like this.”

“alright, alright. no need to butter me up, i’m already yours.” kuroo tried to laugh it off as he wrapped his arms back around you but the blush on his cheeks spoke his true feelings. kuroo pressed his face into the crook of your shoulder and softly murmured across your skin. “thank you.”

with a gentle squeeze and one last overzealous look, he untangled himself and gently took your hand to give it a delicate kiss before leading you off to the limo.

from the hotel to the premiere, it was less than a 10 minute drive. the limo had plenty of room yet the two of you sat so closely to each other you’d think there were a thousand other invisible people squished in here.

the black leather interior felt cool to the touch, a bottle of champagne wedged itself in an ice bucket at the mini bar. it felt a little premature to pop it open right now, but maybe it would help ease his gnawing nerves. as if you sensed his distress, you squeezed his hand.

“you nervous?” you asked, your voice sweeter than honey. the limo was a small sanctuary, the calm before the storm. he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand.

“maybe a little.” kuroo just shrugged, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. he was always good at playing them off behind a well adjusted smirk but when he was around just you — it was hard to keep up any sort of facade. “yeah.”

“me too.” you whisper. kuroo looked at you in surprise. to be honest, he was expecting you to say something more reassuring, tell him everything will work out in the way he knows it will. but instead, you sat right next to him in his pool of nerves, gently holding his hand as you faced the premiere together.

“why’s that?”

“it’s your big night.” your eyes flit to his, mischief dancing in your irises. “after tonight, the rest of the world is going to want you for themselves now. i’ve got to be ready for anything.”

“yeah, you’re right. i am pretty irresistible.” kuroo smirks, feeling the nerves melt down along his back as he indulges in his favorite pastime — teasing you. he goes to open his mouth again but it’s cut off with a yelp as you pinch his arm. “hey! what was that for?”

“irresistible my ass.” you huff, a small pout resting on your perfectly red-coated lips. what he would give to kiss it off of you right now, devour you whole and smear that lipstick right off of your pretty little face. or maybe he’d be lucky enough for you to get on your knees before him and — “more like insufferable.”

“ouch.” the smirk never leaves his face, it only grows wider the more yours purses. “you know, you’re not allowed to bully me on my big night.”

“well, you started it.” you childishly fire back, trying to hold back a laugh but failing wildly. kuroo narrows his amber eyes at you, assessing as your clear your throat, ridding yourself of any more loose giggles.

“you want me to finish it too?” his other hand comes up to your face, tucking a finger under your chin so your attention was fully on him. kuroo’s voice was unnervingly soft, with a token of condescension that breathed out of him a little too easily. “because i can.”

ever so gently, kuroo’s lips brush against yours with barely any pressure as if the only purpose was to steal the air out of your lungs and store it neatly in his own. it was a true test of willpower on his part, the urge to press harder and kiss you properly was too great. but it would have to wait.

reluctantly, he pulls away as the car begins to slow to a stop.

“we’re here.” you breathe out, a small smile spreading across your lips. “you’re going to be amazing tetsu, you’ve always been a star in my eyes.”

“you’re too good to me.” he smiles back, gently caressing your cheek before pulling away. “that’s why i’ll always be yours. the rest of the world will just have to deal with it.”

the car door swung open, bodyguards standing outside of the little oasis in the limo. the lights were already blinding, the people cheering for kuroo to come out and pose for a picture. he stretches his long limbs out of the car and rises with a hand raised in greeting.

kuroo gave the paparazzi a quick grin before he spun on his heel, holding his hand out for you to grab — a much more genuine smile on his face.

“you ready?” he whispers as you get out of the car, making sure your dress was laying properly. kuroos hand moves from yours and to the small of your back, gently bringing you along with him to the night that will forever define his career.

the night his performance stole hearts and inspired tears in peoples eyes with all the magic he carried with him wherever he went. this was truly only the beginning for him — greatness was sure to follow.

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu fluff

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wriothesleysgf · 1 year ago

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★ you're the one i want. — alhaitham.

you visit alhaitham in his office, just before he finishes his work for the day.

notes: fluff, love-struck alhaitham.

wc: 0.9k.

three gentle knocks on alhaitham's door snapped him out of his paperwork-ridden daze. he was utterly exhausted, and you could hear just as much in his voice as he mumbled a gruff 'come in'.

his stoicism soon fled when he lay gaze on you, bright eyed and harbouring the same loving demeanour that he'd fallen for. typically others struggled to fathom a reason for why you were with him, primarily due to your contrasting dispositions, yet neither of you payed such thinking too much attention. moments like this, where you bounded into his office with a beaming smile and some fresh fruits that you'd bought in the bazaar.

"hi, my darling," alhaitham's tone was always softer with you, "it looks like somebody's been busy," he chuckled, putting his pen back into its inkwell. he pushed his chair out more, motioning for you to come and rest on his lap.

you did exactly that, putting your bag onto his desk. "a little, i finished up early so i decided to stop by. plus, i thought that you might appreciate a snack," you pecked his cheek, a blush spreading across his face. instinctively, alhaitham looked away to avoid the embarrassment — you found it utterly adorable.

"thank you, my love," his stature meant he was taller than you, even when you were sat on his thighs. it allowed for him to return your gesture, shifting himself to kiss your forehead. "i'm almost done; though you're always welcome to keep me company, i understand if it would bore you. perhaps you can head home and we can go out for a meal tonight? i fear that kaveh's attempt to make even something as simple as butter chicken may have contaminated the kitchen for the week,"

you giggled, the banter between the two roommates never failed to amuse you. "i'll stay, if that's okay," you turned to face him, soft smile beaming up at him.

"always, my love,"

getting up from alhaitham's lap, you made your way towards the extensive library in his office — surely you could find something to keep you occupied. most of the spines indicated that they were anthologies of research papers, encyclopaedias on anything and everything you could imagine one would need, and... ah! you found at least one work of fiction. it was a collection of folklore from across teyvat, ranging from tales of inazuma's yo-kai to rumours from decarabian's city. it even included local lore, including passed-down stories from desert tribes.

you sat on the opposite side of alhaitham's desk, in one of the chairs that he kept should a scholar or somebody of importance need to meet with him. the two of you were content in the comfortable silence, both getting on with your respective activities, before you began to grow a tad bored. you peeked over the top of your book, trying to eye up something else to do. when your eyes landed on some paper scraps on the desk, you were instantly reminded of a silly little thing that you used to do as a child. surely you still remembered...

without any more thought, you snapped your book closed and reached for the paper. alhaitham's curiosity meant he tried to figure out what you were up to, though when he saw your face contort in concentration, he just resumed with the final project draft that he had to review so as not to disturb you.

you folded the small pieces of paper precisely, beginning to feel that sense of childish innocence stir within you. when you were finished with the first piece, you hid it from alhaitham's sight and made another in the same manner.

"sweetheart, i'm done," he announced as you were making your final few folds. "what are you doing there?"

instead of vocalising your reply, you simply took his hand into your own, and slid a paper ring onto his finger. the man drew his hand back to admire your handiwork, giving you ample chance to slip the matching ring onto your finger.

"how lovely," he spoke, though the regular sarcasm that accompanied such phrase was absent and replaced with a more caring tone. "thank you, my love. i always assume i'd be the first to present you with a ring,"

though alhaitham was joking, you couldn't help your heart from leaping at the mere thought of spending forever with him.

he had picked up your bag and his other hand reached out to help you from your chair. usually he'd be extremely stern regarding the cleanliness of his desk at the end of the day, but honestly he found himself desperate to head out of here with you.

as you walked through the rest of the akademiya hand in hand, alhaitham's mind couldn't help but drift to the paper ring he still proudly wore on his finger. it didn't matter what others thought of such a menial thing, what truly mattered is that he felt as though it truly consolidated his love for you. after all, the ring box hidden in the very back of his bedside drawer was eating away at him, waiting to be used.

#♡｡ now tracking: kfairy ☆.ᐟ #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham drabble #alhaitham fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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lavylu · 7 months ago

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a thor ideal request where thor loves his midguardian gf, reader's big breast and has kink of fucking his cock between those juicy tits and squirt over them

I like em big, I like em juicy

Okay first of all I love this idea so much. And on a side note as soon as I read it the moto moto sound started playing in my head, so disregard the title

Thor loved you more than anything in the world. He loved the sparkle in your eyes and the warmth of your smile. He loved how you always smelled of vanilla and honey. He loved how you loved him. But most of all he loved your breasts.

He loved their sheer size. The way that they filled his hands and seemed to overflow. They were gigantic and Thor loved staring at them.

In his mind they were perfect, so big and soft. So warm and inviting, begging for him to show them love.

You woke to find yourself alone in bed, Thor’s side empty and cold. You pouted as you felt the sheets. Sometimes he would do this and disappear early in the morning, usually when he was up to something.

As if on cue, the smell of breakfast began to drift up to your room. He always did this, buttering you up before asking for something.

You yawned once before getting out of bed. You put on a pair of slippers and tugged down thors shirt that you had slept in. It hung loosely around your frame.

You sleepily made your way downstairs but you perked up when you smelled bacon. Thor began to hum to himself.

You quietly entered the kitchen, although Thor spotted you. He smiled widely.

“My dear! Come. Eat!”

He gestured to the table where a plate for you was already prepared. You shook your head playfully but took a seat and began to lightly nibble on a piece of bacon.

Thor quickly sat next to you. A smile on his face.

“What do you want? You seem up to something.”

Thor only shrugged his shoulders at your remarks. “Nothing major, there’s just something that I want to try.”

“And what would that be weather boy?”

Thor’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I was thinking that when we made love, I could fuck these pretty tits if yours”

Thor reached a hand up and gently grazed your chest. He gave a cheeky squeeze before going back to eating. He looked up at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

You raised an eyebrow in thought. “You know what, I’m done”

Thors face broke out into a huge grin as you push your breakfast away.He stood up and completely disregarded the table as he pulled you towards him.

His large hands circled your waist as he began to kiss your neck. He began to lay you down on the table, pushing bowls away.

A few clattered to the floor but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead he was too focused on getting you out of your (his) shirt.

He pulled it off quickly causing you to giggle. “Someone’s eager”

Thor just chuckled at your teasing. Your giggles stopped though as soon as he stroked your nipples. Each one hardening under his fingertips.

He pinched them softly, rolling them in his fingers. He bent over and began to kiss your sternum while making sensual eye contact.

He pulled away. “You’re so beautiful baby. Now can you do something for me?”

As he asked this he began to pull down his pants.

You nodded your head. Thor just smiled

“I need you to hold your tits together. Can you do that for me?”

When you squeezed your boobs together Thor just smiled. He gently ran his hand down your jaw, “good girl”

While you were looking at him you didn’t notice him freeing his cock. Suddenly it was just against his stomach.

Thor began to stroke himself making him harder and harder. Once he was as fully hard he walked around the table so his cock was by your head.

He shoved his cock at you causing it to land on your face. You gasped and tried to give it a kiss but he tsked “oh no baby, I’m fucking your titties”

He slowly teased his cock at your cleavage. Slowly he began to thrust in, each thrust causing his balls to drag on your face.

Thor smirked as he heard you gasp. “That’s a good girl”

His thrust began to quicken, each one getting more powerful than the last. Soon he was jack hammering into your cleavage, dragging his balls across your face.

He forced your head back giving himself more access. Soon he was fucking you as full speed. Each thrust bringing him closer to the edge.

You heard him moan out as his climax came. Warm cum squirted on your chest. His wet sticky substance coating your warm skin.

Thor stepped back after a moment and admired his work. Your boobs looked even better than before, all nice and round and covered in his semen

#marvel smut #smut #marvel x reader #thor odinson #thor #thor x reader #thor x y/n #Thor x reader smut #thor smut #thor odison imagine #thor odison x reader #Thor Odison x reader smut #Thor odison smut

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littlesliceofimmortality · 1 month ago

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everyones been asking me this. everytime i tell someone new im into dialtown, they always question me about the same thing! without fail! and so here it is:

WHAT I THINK EACH CHARACTER WOULD ORDER AT THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY

now why are they at the cheesecake factory? BECAUSE: in the dialtown universe, as we know, texas roadhouses were ERADICATED off the face of the earth due to health violations, and where else is norm gonna go for his birthday?

(most) everyone gets a DESSERT, DRINK, and MEAL in their order

HE ORDERS: the pumpkin pecan cheesecake (he attempted to order the carrot cake, at the cheesecake factory, at got side eyed), whisky & ginger, and steak diane. claims his mama makes steak better BUT whatev he enjoys his meal in his own disgruntled way

MINGUS, on the other hand, is VIGILANT throughout. she forgot it was norms birthday (& of course would never admit this), and was the one to offer to take him out and pay for everyone. just as powerplay. she sits across from norm, on the edge of her seat just WAITING to call over the waiter for the check. she orders the miso salmon, a red sangria, and 30th anniversary chocolate cake

i hate this thing. it cant read the 9 pages of menu, obviously, so the narrator is thumbing through for it and as SOON as he mentions this "impossible burger", gingi immediately gets an idea in its head that itll break the system & give it money BACK. refuses to eat it in fear of "damaging the goods" and also gets a ... bowl of vanilla ice cream

karen orders: louisiana chicken pasta, a strawberry infused margarita, and fresh strawberry. it just makes sense to have your drink & dessert match! she doesnt eat all of her meal & spends most of it tossing little pasta bits at gingi to watch it snap at it. otherwise Normal Sensible Dinner

oliver on the contrary, orders based off name alone. Chicken Parmesan "Pizza Style", the Well-Mannered Dirty Martini, and Adam's Peanut Butter Cup Fudge Ripple. he has to squash his disappointment when the waiter comes around and hands him his dessert without calling it by its full title

randy ATTEMPTS to get a kids meal, feeling weird about the bill all being on mingus' tab & he isnt around her much, so how would he repay her? just COMPLETELY overthinking it. so he doesnt have a backup for when he doesnt pass as 12 & is told he cant order that. so he PANICS and lands on something random... the loaded mashed potato omelette. okay. same with the coconut cream. he orders NO drink - instead, he gets water, and the waiter passes over him & he gets NO refills. (he goes to the bathroom sink when thirsty)

i like to think jerry gets invited to norms birthday dinner! he orders the cuban sandwich (pickles & all!), espresso martini, and pineapple upside-down cheesecake. it just fits

i WILL not accept constructive criticism, btw

#dialtown #sgt norm allen #phonegingi #oliver swift #randy jade #karen dunn #mayor mingus #ticket jerry #dt jerry

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reenthinks · 3 months ago

Text

[2:06]

It had been one of your more stressful days. Work seemed to keep piling up with no end in sight. You grew increasingly frustrated with every new document on your desk, shoulders slumping more and more as the day went by. Finally, it was 5:00. Quickly tidying up your space as best you could, you made your way home.

Mingyu had an off that day. He slept in (he kissed you goodbye ofc). Woke up around 12:30; had a nice cup of tea with some butter toast. He spent the rest of his day doing little chores around the house. Dusting, mopping, vacuuming (he even went out and restocked on milk, butter and eggs). Now, he was sitting on the couch watching some TV, a freshly baked lasagna sitting on the countertop behind him.

He perks up, hearing the muffled sound of keys jingling outside, the dull click of the door unlocking and the muted thump of your bag landing on the floor. He watches as you trudge in, dropping the keys in the bowl. Your fatigue is evident in your posture.

“Hey, baby. Long day?”

You wordlessly walk to where he’s sitting on the sofa and plop down in his lap, your head tucked snugly in the crook of his neck.

“That bad, huh?” He mumbles, fingers finding their way to your shoulders to try to relieve some of the tension. You hum into his neck as he finds a particularly tense knot. “You hungry? I made your favorite.”

You sigh. “Can’t move.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.”

Next thing you know, his hands are securing themselves under your thighs and he’s off the sofa, walking towards the island.

He sets you down on one of the stools and pulls out two plates and forks for the both of you. You watch drowsily as he plates some lasagna and pushes it towards you before getting some for himself. You buffer a little before reaching for the fork.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Very very slowly, you tell him about your day and all the deadlines you have to meet which you’re falling behind on and how the workload just keeps increasing with no end in sight. It just seemed to get so monotonous to the point you think you’d actually go insane. Mingyu was your breath of fresh air, but even he could only do so much. You needed a break. The bags under your eyes only got darker and your posture, worse. You were being overworked. Any more of that and it would become a serious health concern. Not that it wasn’t already. Mingyu never failed to remind you of it either, making sure you were taking all your necessary vitamins and eating healthy.

“Y/n, if you don’t ask your boss for a week off tomorrow, I will barge in there myself and do what I have to do to get you one.”

You smile at him. “Tomorrow‘s Saturday, baby.”

He flusters a little. “Whatever, on Monday, you know what I mean.”

He was adorable. You could watch him yap about health and food and exercise and proper rest forever. Leaning over, you lay a hand on the side of his face. He stutters his words a little before going silent, looking at you with those puppy eyes of his, the picture of innocence. You feel your heart swell up with this feeling of immeasurable love and affection. You don’t really know what to do with it. So, you do what you’ve always done in such a situation. You kiss him. Slow and sweet. A little aggressive but that was your M.O at this point.

“I love you.” You manage between kisses.

“I love you more.” Mingyu returns.

Pulling his lip between your teeth as you break apart, you smile at him. “I love you most.”

“I love you 3000.” He laughs, obnoxiously, as though he’s won a really important argument.

“Whatever, most is still most.” You argue back, already feeling some of the tension from earlier leave your body.”

He chuckles a little, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Okay, okay, whatever you say. Now, finish eating and then how about a shower?”

“Only if you join me.” You wink at him.

He gasps, a hand over his mouth. “Y/n! That is most inappropriate.”

“Fine then, I’ll just take it alone.”

“No, that’s not what I mea-“

“Nope, one time offer. You passed on it.” You tut.

He pulls out those puppy eyes of his. “One last chance.”

“Okay, fine. But no funny business, mister. I’m tired.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You laugh, taking a forkful of the lasagna. “This is amazing, by the way”

“Yeah? Good, I’m glad you like it.”

“You’re an amazing wife.” You shoot him a finger heart.

He chuckles. “Yeah, well you better watch and learn cuz that’ll be your title someday.”

#kimmingyu #seventeen #svt #mingyu x y/n #mingyu #fluff #i need him #Don’t want a man like Mingyu I want MINGYU #If only he was real 😭

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greycaelum · 2 years ago

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Scribbles & Doodles— Mafia Gojo: { Summer Heat }

—Mafia Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis: Spending the scorching summer with your husband on your private island leads to igniting other embers in your marriage

𑁍 Genre: NSFW: explicit smut, traditional arrange marriage, hints of yandere if you squint

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (3.7k)— tattoos, teasing, breeding kink, impregnation, pregnancy talks, oral sex, unprotected sex, open space sex(—no one in the vicinity), nipple play, biting, praise kink, cockwarming, dirty talk, creampie, cervix fucking, overstimulation, profanity, soft dom satoru, cunnilingus, yakuza/mafia hints if you squint, toxic in-laws, mention of an accident [tell me if i missed something]

𑁍 A/N: Hi everyone~ a lot has been going on but finally I manage to finish the piece I'm working on, here it is. My mind is going brrrr about mafia stuff so I hope you like this one! Sending y'all very tight hug! —Grey,

Growing up, the idea of summer in your mind glows with the open sea with tropical trees lending you shade while sitting in your sun lounger, watching the waves ebb the white sand.

Going home to Amami Oshima every summer is a tradition you have religiously followed before your college years. And now that you're back, you find yourself in the same place you have grown up loving the heat of the sun.

"Too hot don't you think so too Ma'am? It's a shame for your pretty skin. My hands are free to help." A mischievous tone swirl in Satoru's voice. Wearing nothing to cover his sculpted-inked torso, ripped in well-toned muscles traced by his tattoos and few scars, his black swimming trunks hug his Adonis belt almost like a sin. The bulging veins on his biceps leave you tremendously distracted and bothered. He walked barefooted in the sand with hands on the sides of his pocket shamelessly eyeing you.

You resisted the idea of pouncing on the gorgeous man, admiring his menacing tattoos that made your toes curl. The way it hugs his chest like a coat, crawling to his forearms and painting down his back makes you breathless of how much beautiful he could get.

"My husband already promised to put sunscreen on me, I wonder if he forgot." You giggled, looking at him with siren eyes.

Satoru merely smirks, climbing on top of you with his hands on either side of your head, blocking any path for you to escape.

"Fuck Baby, lucky husband you got." His head delved down and you expected a rough kiss from his lips but nothing came, instead, a soft peck landed on the tip of your nose.

You opened your eyes and saw Satoru's grin as if he knew what you were thinking.

"Sit up straight, you're gonna get sunburned." Satoru retracted to sit on the end of your lounger, grabbing the sunscreen on your side table and squirting a good amount of it on his palm.

For a man always wearing a suit when dealing with his business, Satoru is fair toned despite being an albino. Yet that doesn't stop him from being a little too red like an octopus ball during summer, something you've loved watching since childhood, teasing him as much as you could.

Pouting you sit up straight adjusting your bikini before giving your arm to him. There's something about the tattooed man, twice your size and yet buttering you up in sunscreen with full attention that gives you a fuzzy feeling in your tummy.

"My husband would do it rougher and quicker." You bit your lip.

Satoru raised a brow at you but continued doing his job, tapping your knee with the back of his hand, he grabs your ankles to his lap as he lathers you up, not missing a spot.

"Uh-huh? What else would he do?" He rasped.

"He would..." You deliberately drag it longer, watching his brows frowning. "Make me lay on my stomach too."

You tried to fight the smile on your lips as Satoru's face only grew impatient, narrowing his ocean eyes in your direction before pinching your hips, telling you to roll on your tummy.

"Sir, you look like my husband."

And you broke the final straw, a loud spank struck your butt making you yelp. It wasn't that hard but you sure got surprised.

"You really are a minx." Satoru groaned.

"Only for my husband."

"Fuck, I'm your husband. Wife."

You laugh, accepting the heated kiss Satoru punished you until you feel your lips tingle and swollen.

The two of you have been quite busy, barely seeing each other in a day, going as far as seeing each other only at midnight when your husband comes home from work and you're awoken by his shuffling.

It's frustrating how he's your husband but he's the person you get to spend the least amount of time with. And you're sure he feels the same, conveyed by the morning he couldn't bear to let you out of his arms. Hesitant and pouting whenever you walk to the door to leave for work.

So here the both of you are. Leaving busy Tokyo to go home where the two of you spent the blazing heat of summer since childhood. Away from work, away from stress and the constant fear for your husband's safety. It's only on this island that your heart is at peace.

Work is fine, you love your job. But being around too many people drains you. Especially your in-laws and even your father. The idea of having to face them is already strenuous for your mind.

"What's on your mind?" Laying on the lounger with the sun still high atop the sky is so peculiar. But here you are with your body on top of Satoru your fingers tracing his tattooed chest, his legs propped by your sides while raking his hand over your back.

His expression is serious but it softened slightly when he looked at you. The way he looked at you is different from the way he looks at everyone else. Like a cushion to the malevolence, his callous hands could do. A cushion specifically crafted for you. But it's a different matter with the hostility of people around you.

People never failed to keep pointing out if an heir is coming along the way. It's as if not bearing a child after the first few months of getting married is a huge sin for you to be condemned and criticized every time you meet.

And those are getting to you. The anxiousness whenever you try for the test and see it come back negative. The constant worry of your fertility chasing after you. Or will you ever make a good mother?

"Nothing." You close your eyes, flushing out the thoughts.

"Hey, wife. What's wrong? Am I holding you too tight?" Satoru noticed your silence and move over to see the waver of your eyes you're too slow to hide.

Satoru is so soft with you, so tender that it's almost heartbreaking how he holds you so dear without any hesitation. And all you wish is to reciprocate this kind of love to him in the way your body and soul allow.

He once spoke about it, a light talk over your first days of marriage but he never brought it up again. Something you knew, he was being considerate for your part after all the talks from your families every dinner that ends up Satoru being in a foul mood, growing more distant with his family.

And it breaks your heart seeing him fall apart from his parents. It breaks your heart seeing a family drift away. It triggers the fear in your heart after seeing what happened to you parents as well. It scares you seeing that happen to your husband.

You look at him and it seems he always knew what's going on in your mind. A kiss delves on your forehead.

"I want a child 'Toru. I want it so bad."

Not because everyone keeps bothering you. Or you have something to prove to the people talking about you.

But you have always dreamt of a child, a perfect copy of your husband running to clutch your legs to show you the sandcastle Satoru built for fun. A son or a daughter, running through the white sand by the beach sunset.

You want a family with him.

"You wanna be heavy with my child?" A feral glint sparked in your husband's eyes.

Before you could nod Satoru held your face kissing you over and over again, lust-filled eyes staring at you. His strong hand pulled your face closer so that you could feel the air you breathed combining.

"I will put a baby in you," he whispered lifting you in his arms and walking back to your beach house. "Maybe even two." The thought had you hazy and distraught between his words and kisses. "You'd look so good with my kids." Satoru cursed and set you down on the veranda, he pushed your back against the wall, his arms imprisoning you while his hands roam your body. "My wife carrying my child, fuck baby. You're making me crazier for you."

You moaned, trying to keep your eyes closed, saving even a bit of your dignity from doing this in such an open space. But what else is there that Satoru wouldn't notice about you?

His large body drowned you. A ripping sound of fabric tore through the silent beach. Looking down, all you could see is your exposed chest and before you could cover yourself Satoru pinned your arms above your head, attacking your lips into a maddening kiss while his fingers brush your peaks, skin-to-skin, electrifying you to a mess. He softly groped your mounds, kneading and pawing your milky globes with his rough callous palm and your body just respond to his touches before you could allow it.

"T-the people." You half-heartedly struggle, maintaining the last inch of sense in your head.

But Satoru raggedly cursed almost making you faint.

"Bold of you to assume I'll share even a fucking inch of your skin Baby." It's almost a sin how you could forget his possessiveness just because you've been alone for days. "I'll hunt them down one by one."

You can't form an answer and threw your head back when he bent down, inserting your hard peaks into his hot mouth, swirling and suckling you so needily. He could feel the smirk on his lips. Through the slits of your hooded eyes, you could see his glimmering eyes filled with lust. His kiss is so deep that it distracted you from his hands trailing down your thighs. One touch against the thin cloth of your bikini, he chuckled between curses.

"Fuck baby," he whispered, kissing your jaws sporadically. "You're so horny." He brushes your clit through your panties. He rubs it gently with his thumb.

The shame started creeping up on you, you slightly pushed him but it barely had any strength. "Satoru please." You wanted to scold him but it came out as a whine only spurring your husband. The hot blue beach staring at you openly makes your belly tingle, unused to the idea of doing such an intimate act in full view.

But you're sure you want this and you trust Satoru will handle everything to keep your dignity, you arch when he plays with your hair with one hand while he strokes your belly with the other.

A moan escapes you as Satoru starts to kiss your neck, tracing your skin with the tip of his tongue as his hand snaps your bra. You lean your head to the side to give him more access to your neck while he pushes you onto the hard stone wall. You know your arousal is leaving a stain in your panties, and when he starts sucking on your neck your knees threaten to wobble in the sheer pleasure.

Satoru's bulge is hard, brushing against your stomach. His curses thundered when you clung to his neck desperately. Large callous hands caress your body, roaming the fullness of your breast, grabbing the dips of your hips whilst he pushes you against his hard chest kissing you breathlessly.

You're already a mess when he goes down your body.

Satoru kisses your belly, knowing that's where his child will grow inside of you, as he slips his thumbs under the edge of your panties, "Give me permission, wife." He groans, looking into your eyes. When you gasp a faint 'yes' and Satoru pulls off your panties before kissing you in the middle of your thighs. Satoru is careful, testing your mounds open so he could press his tongue in between. Lapping your pussy lips the same way he would make out with you.

The imminent pleasure is jarring as you try to push back the wanton moans from your husband's tongue. As if he heard your suppression of moans, Satoru sunk his tongue deeper inside your walls, feeling your walls pulsate and your breathing more shallow. Your hands tried pushing him away to save face but your body convulsed in the middle of the rapturous sensation.

Satoru wasted no time pulling down his shorts, he pressed a bite on your neck before grabbing your hand to palm his shaft guiding your hand up and down as he groans like a wounded lion, needily gasping at the pleasure your hands stroking his aching member. "I'll get you pregnant," he promised sincerely with passion staring at your blown-out eyes, "Gonna fill you up with my seed until you can't hold it in."

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly entered your core. Feeling the tip pop into your quivering passage. He slid into you with ease, pushing his cock back and forth while he kissed the corner of your lips, feathering more along your jaw as his thrusts got deeper and faster. Your hot walls caressing him so tightly it's so hard for him to hold back.

Crazy. You are driving him crazy. There was an equal amount of gentleness and roughness to his movements that sated the both of you perfectly. His scent, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his throaty moans. Even his moans are too much, too sexy making you clench around him, whining and begging in between.

While your legs were tangled around his waist, his mouth latched onto your tit when he gave each bosom a lavish suck making your pert rosebuds tingle and hard. Soon enough this will be the most tender globes that'll keep him preoccupied latching on to you. It was until he began increasing the speed of his thrusts that you could no longer contain your wanton cries, "Satoru! Slow d-down ahm!"

"Cum," he whispered in your ear, knowing full well that your orgasm was building back on your lower abdomen, "Cum for me, Baby."

"'Toru!" Breathless and twitching from your release, your nails dug into his back that you're sure was gonna bleed as you gripped around his girth, milking yourself around his cock followed by your helpless cries. Your chest was rising and falling heavily after your climax, but did you think Satoru was done?

He watches your eyes grow droopy from exhaustion, letting you breathe for a second or two before smirking as he pulls your legs to wrap around his waist, sheathing himself back into your soaking core.

"Ahhh! S-Satoru? W-wait!" You cried.

Grunting at the sopping sound of his shaft slamming inside you while you clung to him in your weariness, moaning and crying his name.

"Don't think so Baby, you're so wet." Satoru drawls at you, his voice dark and teasing, hissing when you suddenly clamp around him.

You loved it when Satoru is a bit rough and wild to an extent. It's when his pleasant mask slip and reveals the raw emotion beneath him. When he losses control, desperate for you. Satoru needed you in those moments. And you are more than willing to accept every inch of it.

Pouring his emotions into you, groaning his anger into your ears before biting the hollow of your neck to mark you with his teeth like tattoos adorning your skin. You loved it when your husband vented his frustrations into you. When he finds the invigorating relief in your tight heat. He never forgets to make sure to fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you to hear your cries and feel you cream around his hard cock.

It was so heady that Satoru could only groan out ruthless profanities as he thrust so hard making sure he was so deep into you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shit Baby!" You clenched around him as he spurted thick jets of cum right into your womb. "Baby... You're too good, fuck!" His breathy grunts were released when his hips fell out of rhythm. Hot dollops of his seed were shot straight into your womb, ensuring that every drop of his cum was sitting deep into your cervix. When he pulled out, you could feel his warm semen seeping out of your entrance because you were clenching naturally, twitching from muscle memory of his cock inside you as you gasped for air. He kept thrusting shallow thrust into you until there were no more but faint ropes spilling from his shaft.

Satoru didn't stop until you were a begging mess, shaking from pleasure and exhaustion, pussy twitching from the last one of numerous orgasms, making his thick milky cum trickle out of you while he kept his shaft nestled in your pussy keeping anymore of his seed from escaping as he watches your eyes flutter close with a satisfied smug smirk on his handsome face.

"You look beautiful, Baby." he expressed with a chuckle, adoring the way you nuzzle into his neck, exhausted. He stared at you like you were the most precious thing this dark world has ever given him. And it only took a minute for that sinful lust to fade into tenderness as he sees you slump forward. Satoru was very much proud to see how much cum he had inside of you but he needs to take care of you too.

Stepping into the house, he walk on the stairs leading to your bedroom and slowly pulled out of you to grab a towel but your soft whines halted him making him look back to the bed to see you trying to get up.

"Stay, with me." You breathe, looking at him with pleading tired eyes.

"I have to wipe you." Satoru kissed your forehead, pulling the duvet to hide your naked body or else he'll ravage you mercilessly again. "I'll be quick."

"Nooo, hold me." You frowned sleepily.

Satoru finds it adorable when you become so whiny, so needy. It's one of those days when you need him more than usual. With no words left, he climbs on the bed, joining you, letting your head lay on his chest as he closes his eyes while stroking your head.

Not a minute he could feel something grinding down his half-hard shaft.

"Fucking stop it, minx." He whispered darkly, dragging his words into a deep slur.

But damn that little demon with a pitchfork of yours acting up again. A soft hand grabs his erect shaft, slowly sliding into your soaking pussy making your husband cuss and grab your hips and seize your lips for a sloppy kiss.

"You naughty woman. You're not walking out of here until I'm done."

The soft sun peek through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. It was already dawn when you slept and your head is pounding, your body aching, begging for sleep.

"Awake?" Soft kisses rain on your shoulders, a hand pulled you closer and your back collided with a hard chest.

"Let me sleep, 'm still tired." Bemoaning about your sore body. You determinedly shut your eyes despite Satoru's kisses and caresses.

"Breakfast's ready, c'mon I'll feed you, Baby." Satoru wakes up early, which drags you to join him as well.

"Nooooo~" You faked crocodile tears but it never works on Satoru as he effortlessly pulls you to sit on his lap and move the table laden with food.

Defeated, you opened your eyes and made yourself comfortable on your husband's lap, nuzzling into his neck, leaning unto his bare chest, while watching him sip on his mug of tea. Satoru looks damn fine with his messy bedroom hair, sweatpants being the only thing covering his perfectly sculpted body. His dark vivid tattoos kept you busy, tracing them every time you get to touch him.

"Any plans for today?" Satoru offered you a piece of toasted sourdough with egg, bacon, and cheese on top. It's a meager meal but the effort is so much more than enough. Knowing there's nothing much in the fridge yet your husband still managed to fix you a meal.

"Nothing much, anything you wanna do 'Toru?"

He shook his head and cradled your back, making you lean on his chest and you listened to his staccato heartbeat while he eats.

"Do you really want a baby?" Satoru started out of nowhere, looking at your expression.

"Of course, do you not want a baby right now?" Your heartbeat started picking up.

"I want..." He kissed your temples. "I do want a child with you. But if the words of people are bothering you don't even mind them."

Satoru knows, how your eyes are cast down when someone mentions the matter of a child. He never mentioned it again to keep you from worrying too much about it. And those who try to challenge him by hurting you with words are swiftly and quietly dealt with. He has never had you for himself only after so long because you left for college and there's so much to catch up with you. He's never in a rush to have a child, as long as he has you.

He would love an heir for his legacy. And for the clan too. But if that's what will tear you away from him, then it's not even an option, to begin with. A child pales in comparison to you in his eyes. Without you, it'll all be meaningless.

"It's not about them, I do want a baby Satoru, I want a family." You bit your lips, a habit you've never grown out of. Fingers starting to fidget with panic in your eyes. But Satoru held your hand, bringing the back of your hands to his lips before your doubt spirals.

"I want it to." Satoru lifted your chin with his finger and kissed you softly. "So don't worry too much about it Baby, I promised you. We'll do this slowly, together." He knows how badly you wish for a family. "This lifetime belongs only to you wife." He whispered like a prayer.

"As I to you." You nod, feeling his arms tighten around you. As long as your husband is here, it's enough to set your heart at ease.

The comfortable silence is interrupted by a phone call. Satoru reaches for his phone and the sudden frown adorning his temples forebodes an ominous feeling in your heart. The call was followed shortly by your husband's gruff replies. It was brief and the call ended.

Satoru looks at you and breathes as he held you closer in his strong arms.

"Pack your bags, we need to go home Baby, your father is ambushed."

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

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