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bg-brainrot · 4 months

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Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Companion piece to: Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You

Summary: After a few months of traveling together, Astarion has begun to experience some new feelings around you. After one fateful day in Moonrise Towers, he finally figures out what those feelings are.

Tags: Astarion POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Awkward Fluff, tw: mentions of astarion's past and all that comes with it, tw: mentions of araj scene, Feelings Realization, Jealousy

A/N: here comes the awkward, fluffy Astarion figuring out his feelings Valentine’s special. He’s a hot mess, of course. (happy Early Valentine’s because I will be busy on Valentine’s) And thanks to everyone who voted for this one!

Word count: ~4.8k

Ever since your group entered the Shadowlands, something has been bothering Astarion. He hadn't noticed at first– or rather, had tried his best to ignore it. But, as time goes on, he’s finding it more and more difficult to brush aside.

It had started out small. An odd pain in the pit of his stomach.

What was that? he'd thought, holding a hand to his abdomen in concern. Perhaps he was just hungry, but it certainly didn’t feel like the ever-present hunger in his belly. No, that was a dull, continuous ache. This? This felt like something was weighing him down. Maybe I’m ill. I shouldn’t mention it to anyone, lest Lae’zel slit my throat in my sleep.

Besides, the pain didn’t happen often. He noticed it a distinct few times.

Once, when you first entered the Shadowlands. He’d just watched you bend down, hands plucking at something off the side of the cursed lands’ road. He thought momentarily that he ought to stop you, that none of you knew what could be lurking in its magical darkness. But that tinge of worry was promptly replaced by that same gods awful pit in his stomach.

Because there you were, presenting your party’s cleric with your spoils. You were gifting Shadowheart a night orchid– had remembered that she mentioned loving them. You bore the woman’s wretched joke with a smile. Disgusting, Astarion thought. No wonder my stomach feels uncomfortable, what a pathetic little exchange.

Like everything that had bothered him in the last couple of months since finding himself free of Cazador, he decided to forget the feeling. Life is his to take full advantage now, why let something like that affect him?

Or so he thought until the next time the feeling made its return.

You had just arrived at the Last Light Inn as a group, found shelter through the Harpers’ well-established safe haven. Astarion was quite happy to be rid of the shadows, content to cozy up in an inn. He figured, if he played his cards right, you may even let him partake in your blood or ask for a bit of fun.

Then your party found Dammon. Equipped with Infernal Iron and one blazing hot barbarian, Dammon made magic happen in a matter of moments.

Astarion was glad. As much as the group was a bit much at times, he understood Karlach’s struggle with her body all too well. She deserved this small victory in reclaiming her body.

His feelings of genuine sympathy were short-lived though because a moment later you were wrapping your arms around the tiefling’s body. It was a test, of course, to see if Dammon’s fusing had worked. But there it was again, the feeling in his stomach. This time it felt twice as heavy, a lead ball in his guts. Maybe I should let someone know, he thought. This can’t be good.

But the sensation was soon forgotten as your group settled into the Last Light Inn. Old allies were in some miserable new states– requiring even more help, gods– and new acquaintances were made. It was all rather dull for Astarion.

The one time Astarion perked up was when you went head-to-head with the head Harper. He chuckled under his breath when you outsmarted the old crone, Jaheira. That’s right, Harper. Don’t mess with my protector.

Your first night at the inn was capped off with a bit of revelry: a game of Truth or Dare.

Astarion could sense your reluctance to play. You’d been acting odd all day, stiff and awkward around him. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to tease you to the high celestial plane– in fact, he already knew what he wanted to ask you. “You are going to regret this so much," he'd said to you from across the table.

Then the game began, and the deep, uncomfortable feeling never left his core.

Each and every companion received your attention throughout the game, in one way or another. Even that damned smith, Dammon, was given a dare from you. And Astarion just sat there, not even earning a glance, his mood growing more and more sour.

When, at last, he was able to taunt you with his question, you were far too in your cups to give a proper response. He sat on your lap, placed there from one of Shadowheart’s dares, staring into your surprised, open eyes, wishing that he'd thought of an easier question for an inebriated version of you.

The group had shooed you both out of the game upon seeing your state, though Astarion didn't mind. He'd much rather leave the lot of them and tease you by himself.

Once you were alone, you answered his question. That he, Astarion, was your favorite and for all manner of incredulous, unbelievable reasons. He’d expected you to say him. He’d asked to hear your praise, confirm your attachment in the name of his plan to seduce you. All the same he was left uncomfortable, juggling the sudden and unabashed flattery. Being praised for his looks was one thing but for being… himself?

The feeling in his stomach grew. Suddenly his lungs felt it, his undead heart felt it. What in the sweet hells is the matter with me? he thought, as he helped lay your drunken, passed out form to bed later that night. He hadn’t felt a sensation like this before– he hated it.

Then you reached out to him in your sleep, and he froze. Something about the touch quietened the pain under his ribs, and so he extended his fingers, gently touching your brow as you fell asleep. See? I’m fine, he assured himself. I truly am just ravenous.

He continued this way for several days in the Shadowcursed lands.

One moment, he was perfectly fine, hacking and slashing at a Shambling Mound with abandon. The next, he would look over at you, see you laughing at something Karlach said, and it felt like an iron ingot had made its way into his insides.

Damned tiefling woman. I’m far funnier than her, you know, he thinks, resheathing his knives with a little too much gusto. The sound of your laughter rang in his head for the rest of the evening, as if he were being driven to insanity by it.

The next day, you had fought a horde of Meazels. At first, Astarion thought the fight was delightful fun– the tiefling woman and the cleric kept getting teleported against their will and after his recent annoyance with both of them, he found it quite amusing. That is, until you found yourself garrotted, teleported as far away from him as possible.

He was on you in mere moments, ripping the creature off of you with his blades. It was almost as if he’d reacted instinctively and, as someone whose instincts typically led him away from danger, he found the sensation quite off-putting. Nevertheless, he'd freed you, asking, “Are you alright, darling?”

Astarion couldn’t remember what you’d even said because once he saw the marks the creatures left on you, the pit in his stomach dropped. Where there had been a heavy pressure before, there was now a sharp feeling. His eyes carefully trailed over your injuries, trying his best to focus on you and not the phantom pain building inside him.

You had been fine, nothing that a quick heal from Shadowheart couldn’t fix, but that feeling stayed in his stomach the rest of the day. It’s simply the Shadowlands, he'd thought. They not only play tricks on the mind, clearly they’re playing tricks on my body.

It was a few days later, as you helped the Harper’s deal with their lantern problem that the sensation shifted again.

Astarion watched, eyes glued to your form, as you dispatched the hideous drider, your twin blades piercing the creature in its most vulnerable spots. He’d seen you kill many monsters before, hundreds likely at this point. But something about the way your body moved in the Moonlantern’s glow, the way your face lit up as the creature’s body crumpled to the floor, caused the vampire to stop and watch.

This time, he’d felt the heavy sensation move up, somewhere just below his throat. He tried against all odds to gulp it away, but nothing seemed to work. We need to finish our business here and get out as soon as possible, he thought now, convinced it was the shadows warping his senses…

But as your travel continues, the feelings never go away.

It’s a different pressure, it builds, it ebbs, it flows between his heart, his stomach, his torso– and each time he brushes it off. Stewing in these uncomfortable feelings, Astarion spends the week in a hazy mire, not unlike the shadows that surround you all.

Then your group finally infiltrates Moonrise.

Moonrise Towers, the seat of the Absolute and a once grand fortress.

Now, Astarion can’t help but think it seems rather underutilized. Your group is walking along the empty parapets outside, which are woefully missing any sense of grandeur or ornamentation. “Darling,” he says, leaning into you slightly. “Don’t you think we ought to just kill everyone now and take the place for ourselves. Might be quite fun.”

You bark out a laugh, which he feels proud to have produced, and reply, “Maybe later. This is an infiltration mission only. Besides, once we defeat the Absolute, I’m sure there will be a vacancy.”

Astarion laughs back at you. Gods, he enjoys this. The way that he can say something that others would balk at and you will miraculously not only appreciate it, but also play along with it. Having fun with them is so easy, he thinks. And look, I’m still wearing all of my clothes! What a novel idea.

The thought is cut short when your group walks through an outside doorway into a room that can only be described as grotesque. Whoever works here clearly has some knowledge of arcana, if the ingredients and alchemical tools are anything to go by, but it smells utterly foul to Astarion.

It’s when you spot the drow woman hunched over a table in the corner that he realizes where the stench is coming from. Hells below, that woman reeks of something truly awful, he thinks, recoiling. He’d grown used to following behind you closely, but as you step forward to speak to the woman, he finds himself taking a step back instead.

The woman introduces herself as Araj Oblodra, a trader of blood– a rather poor trader, by the smell of it. She takes note of Astarion, who shuffles back instinctively, before you and her go about some kind of business with your blood. Astarion contemplates speaking up, shooing you away from her, but decides to stay back, as far away as he can remain without arousing suspicion. They can handle themselves.

Then, after the woman looks back toward him one too many times, he hears you snap, “And why are you so interested in my pale friend?”

“Ah, yes. Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss,” she begins, her voice a dangerous drawl. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn at least.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion says, all-too-ready to fill his role. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” she’s quick to respond. Her eagerness picks at Astarion’s nerves, and he raises an eyebrow at her. Araj doesn’t deign to give him another moment’s look though, as she turns back to you. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounds offended– on his behalf, Astarion wonders? “He’s his own person.” Your words cause the feeling in Astarion’s stomach to flip, and, as much as he wants to come to his own defense, he finds himself quite content to hear you do it for him.

“I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable,” she says with a snide chuckle.

Adorable? he thinks, but he’s unable to interject before the woman continues to barrel forward.

The blood trader turns back to Astarion, face wrinkled with distaste as her tone changes to something a bit more confrontational, “Do you have a name, spawn?”

Her sudden shift in attitude, the proud tilt to her head, it all throws the vampire off balance as he goes to answer, “Astarion, b-but hold on!” Astarion holds up a hand to try to slow this woman’s tirade, all to no avail.

“Good. Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl,” Araj begins, laying out the scene for her request.

Too bad that the scene sounds quite ridiculous to Astarion. Surely he heard her incorrectly? “I’m sorry, you want to be bitten?”

The woman goes on a new insane diatribe– something about dancing with death– but Astarion can hardly be bothered. All he needs to know is that she’s offering some measly potion for being bitten and, gods, does he not want to bite this woman’s disgusting neck. Or wrist. Or really any part of her. “I will have to decline,” he says, with a gracious little bow. Your group is still infiltrating the towers, it wouldn’t do to tell Araj exactly how horrid she smells.

It’s entirely more grace than she deserved, that much is clear because she presses him again. Again, he refuses. “I gave you my answer.”

The drow scoffs, turning back to you once more, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

You, for your part, look confused. There’s a line of concern in your forehead as you look between the woman and Astarion, wondering what it is that you’re missing. “I’m surprised, Astarion. I thought you’d enjoy an opportunity like this.”

What?! he thinks, a sudden, sharp spike of anger shooting through him. He tempers his immediate rage and speaks to Araj with that same, false pleasantry she doesn’t deserve, “I’m sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?”

Astarion, not waiting for her response, pulls you aside, away from the drow’s nosy eyes and ears. Once you’re alone, he turns to you, his voice a hiss, “Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some-some-some potion?”

“What’s the matter? Why would she be different from any other enemy?” you ask, leaning toward him.

Your voice is full of genuine worry, and some of his anger abates as he meets your eyes. Of course, they don’t know what they’re asking. How could they know? “Because there’s something wrong with her blood. I can smell it from here. Ugh, it’s rank.”

Now your brows furrow, and a sharp edge enters your eyes as you ask your next question, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

“I can’t say. It just smells… wrong. Unnatural.” His words sound pathetic to his own ears.

Of course that’s not an excuse, Astarion laments. What am I even thinking? The potion is clearly useful. They are going to make me do this, and I may as well prepare myself. I’ve put up with worse after all.

So, he stands straight once more, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. His tone takes on a resigned tone as he continues, “Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.”

You both hear a sigh from behind you. “I don’t have all day, True Soul,” Araj calls, impatiently.

Your eyes remain focused entirely on him, ignoring the woman’s irritated sigh, her entitled words. “Astarion,” you begin, and he takes a breath in preparation for your other foot to drop. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And if she refuses to take no for an answer again, we’ll simply have to start our assault on the towers a bit early.”

The breath leaves him.

"Alright. Uh, thank you,” he says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders. He’d been prepared to acquiesce, to do exactly what you’d asked of him. But this? This is something he hadn’t been prepared for.

In a daze, Astarion makes his way back to Araj, putting on as polite of a facade as he’s still capable of making, “It's still a ‘no’, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing,” the blood trader says, shooting you both a disgusted look. She turns away in a huff, leaving your group alone to recover from the exchange. And leaving Astarion floundering in another new sensation.

Because once more, the feeling in the pit of his stomach has reared its ugly head– only this time it shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He's not sure what it is, but it's stunned him into slipping off his carefully crafted mask. He turns to you once more, voice soft around its usual edges, "Thank you. I… appreciated that.”

"You have no need to thank me. It was always your choice, Astarion."

Huh.

The feeling sinks into him, settling deeper and deeper as you continue through Moonrise.

That night, you go to bed in your own bedroll, leaving Astarion to his meditations with a smile and a wave. It has been a long day for all of you, and it's clear from the way you take a glance back that you're worried about him.

Gods, he's worried about him.

After dealing with that vile drow woman, you'd all continued about the tower, ingratiating yourselves with even the most repugnant of creatures to appear faithful to the Absolute. But Astarion paid attention to almost none of it.

He'd stabbed when you told him it was time to stab, he'd joined your side when you called him to you, but his mind had been wholly preoccupied.

They didn't make me do it, he'd thought, as he unlocked some chest.

Well, isn't this exactly what I wanted? he'd thought, following you down some stairs.

Clearly they just fell for my charms, my masterful seduction, he'd thought, flanking a prison guard for you.

So why do I feel like this? he'd thought, staring at your back as you led the way before him.

Now, he lays here in his tent, staring at the fold of its ceiling in a rapt fascination he doesn't feel. The feeling in his stomach has stayed all day, tethering him to his thoughts with its continuous pressure.

When did I get to the point where I would follow them anywhere? Is their lack of self-preservation contagious? he asks himself, eyes narrowing in frustration. I shouldn't have gone into that horrendous tower in the first place. Then I wouldn't feel like this.

But he had.

And you'd not forced him to do so.

You'd not forced him to do anything.

They're a fool, an utter fool. I could have bitten that drow, as easy as breathing, he thinks, rolling his eyes at the thought. Close your eyes and push through, that's what I always say.

But did you want to? something in the back of his mind asks.

Of course not, but when has what I wanted ever mattered–

It may not have mattered under Cazador's grip, but it has always mattered to you. You're nothing like that evil man. You'd always been there for him, had managed to find trust in your heart for him, and had been genuinely kind to him.

The now-familiar feeling in his stomach seems to spread to the rest of his body, a warmth that doesn't quite feel warm. It bleeds all the way to his face and his lips curl up into an involuntary smile at the thought of you.

You– you, who had only ever been meant to play a bit role in the tragedy that is Astarion’s life. You, who had transcended your part, leaving Astarion contemplating every aspect of you in the stark solitude of his tent.

Your beauty when you're covered in blood after a battle, the mischievous glint in your eye when you're teaching a child a sleight of hand trick– even when anger pulls your brows together and you're yelling at him for saying something particularly naughty. Each and every one makes his smile grow wider.

You, his chosen protector, are so much more than just that.

They are incredible. The thought comes to him unprompted, truly as easy as breathing.

His eyes widen in alarm, staring blankly at the tent above him.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t an illness. Nor was it hunger. No. It was guilt. It was jealousy. It was…

Oh fuck, Astarion curses to himself. Am I in love?

Now that he has a word to the sensation, that the feeling is in his grasp, he knows he's right. He doesn't have a lot of experience with love, if any– he'd never had the luxury under Cazador's cruel gaze and he can't recall much from before that– but he knows he's right.

And hells does he wish he could crush the feeling in his hands right here and now.

Gods, you complete and utter imbecile, he thinks, hitting his head against the floor. You have things to do, goals to accomplish. They were only supposed to be a means to those goals, not a – a–

Astarion’s mind blanks as he thinks of you again, your charm, your wit, your damnable caring.

Not a companion. Not a friend. Not a lover. When did those late night trysts turn from an obligation, a part of his simple, perfect plan, into something more?

Even now, as he thinks of those nights, he brings a hand to his lips, recalling a night where you had simply stayed in his bedroll. You had kept all of your clothes on, as had he, and simply held each other as you fell asleep. Their kiss that night was delectable, he recalls, tracing the line of his lips, as if he could still feel the ghost of yours on them.

Fuck, he thinks again, dropping his hand in frustration. How could I have been so blind? How did I not nip this in the bud before it got to this disgusting pining?

But he hasn’t nipped it in the bud. The feeling has grown, unfettered, quick as a druidic plant growth, all unbeknownst to him. It has been nurtured by your attention. It has been watered by your kindness. It has become unruly in the safety of your arms.

Now what? he thinks to himself bitterly, wiping a hand across his face with a sigh. What use are these feelings when everything they were built upon is a lie? You are, after all, still playing the role he set out for you.

He considers overlooking the feelings, just as he has inadvertently done in his ignorance. It wouldn’t be of any use to tell you, of course. You could hardly feel the same way about him as he does you, and he’d rather not add another nuisance in the fight against the Absolute.

Besides, if he told you, he would have to fess up, explain his entire plan to you. What would even be left of the two of you after that?

But, he thinks to himself. Let’s say I did tell them. What could they possibly say…

“I was pretending all along too.” – gods, that would break him. That much is all too apparent from the way his undead heart aches at the thought, with a pain he couldn’t possibly feel.

“I like you, but not like that.” – maybe this was worse. Actually, it was definitely worse. He may never recover. His ego would certainly never recover.

“I have someone else that I love.” – honestly, reasonable. What did he have to offer you after all? A bloodthirsty master and the occasional snarky comment? He wouldn’t be surprised to find you in Karlach’s tent at this very moment…

“I hate you.” – he might be able to take this the best. You should hate him. He’d done nothing but lie and manipulate his way into your bedroll. Hate, well, that he understood.

“I love you, but…” – every single 'but' cut like a different, jagged blade. But we’re in danger every day? An excuse, surely. But you come with too much baggage? True, but not something he would be able to resolve. But I don’t want to be with a monster? Again, reasonable, but out of his control.

Astarion runs through scenario after scenario, each one playing with his own emotions in a new and horrendous way. In the end, he all but slaps himself out of it.

No, I cannot tell them. I absolutely must take this to my second grave, he determines, shaking the thoughts away with a few hard blinks.

But the feeling in his chest is more persistent than ever. As if giving it a name and meaning has given it a new, annoying life. He laments to himself aloud, "I may never feel like myself again.”

If this is what love does to a person, he wants no part of it.

The vampire didn't have a restful night's reverie, that much is apparent. His mood is foul, his body tense, and his eyes are trying their damnedest to avoid yours.

No way, he thinks as you all set off for the day. I spun myself into a frenzy last night. Clearly. I feel absolutely nothing–

Then you turn back to him, concern lining your eyes as you address him. What had you just said? He had found himself somehow lost in your eyes, your lips, the turn of your nose…

Shit, he thinks to himself. No, get back in control. You have only just reclaimed yourself, you can't lose yourself to something as cruel as love.

But, try as he might, his eyes can’t avoid you.

All morning, he continues to sneak glances your way. Despite his roguish nature, he finds hiding his stares to be impossible. After all, you are the group’s leader. You are at the front, you are at his side, gods, you are everywhere. This feels like some kind of divine punishment…

You catch him looking, of course. And each time, he curses himself, gods, you idiot. You may as well broadcast your feelings to the world. And hells, how long have you felt this way?

Astarion tries futilely to act normal. This is just another day with the group in the Shadowlands. He’s not thinking about holding your hand in his. He’s not thinking about the way you look when you sleep. And, above all else, he is not thinking of your lips or the way that they move when you say his name.

Despite his inner turmoil, the world moves on. You lead the group through the Mason’s Guild, and you all manage to clear the place out easily enough.

The vampire thinks he’s finally reaching some sort of peace. Yes, this routine work he can do. No problem at all.

Then, you say something kind to Karlach, that infernally charming woman, who continues to support you at your side. Who, for all intents and purposes, should be the person who warms your bedroll at night, now that you can touch her. Not him, the man who can only make your bedroll colder. Who, even now, is avoiding your every glance.

Oh hells, he thinks, face dropping. The realization that he’s right is too much for him to bear.

Astarion stalks off, annoyed at himself and his thoughts, needing a moment to recollect himself. I can do this, he thinks. I can do this. I can–

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath once he knows he’s alone. “You’re supposed to get over this, you stupid fool. Shit. Gods dammit.”

He hears your familiar footfalls approaching and freezes, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

You find him in a pool of shadows away from the others, and he can’t help but feel like a beast that’s been cornered. He’s certain his face reflects that, reflects every bit of emotion he’s feeling as plain as could be, but your patience with him has apparently worn thin for the day. Your voice is less kind than usual when you say, “Do you need to talk?”

Seeing the anger in your face, the way that your hands are placed on your hips in annoyance, he knows he can’t keep his feelings to himself. He’ll only continue to push you away, into the strong, red arms of another.

No, he thinks, in a panic. I should– I need to–

He needs to do something about his feelings, unwanted or not. Really, he needs to tell you, regardless of what your response may be. If not, he may regret it for the rest of his undying life.

Now that he is in control of his own choices, he supposes that means all of them, for better or worse. That means even the most difficult ones. This is one of those difficult ones, isn’t it?

So Astarion swallows his pride, his anxieties, his insecurities, and settles his fate.

“Later,” he says, barely getting the words out. He blinks, and tries again, pleading with you with his eyes, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

Later, I will tell them. Everything.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion pov #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion feelings realization

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swxxtsxcchxrine · 1 year

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I feel like i need more emphasis on Miguel's level of nasty because he is just messy. point blank period. imagine he's got you on all fours, your face is stuffed into the sheets of your shared bed, he has your arse in the air all the while his face is stuffed right in your pussy. he's sucking and slurping on your cunt from the back because he knows you like it. maybe too much. one hand is laying comfortably on your bum cheek while the other holds your hands in place on the small of your back to diminish any attempts you have to run away. not that you would anyways. his face moves up and down your slick slit, his tongue prodding at your tight hole. he groans in satisfaction as you push your hips into his face and cry out a silly version of his name. his hand squeezes your cheek in affirmation "that's it, bonita," he praises. his words go straight to your sticky cunny as he slurps loud enough for the neighbours and their mothers to hear. he lifted his head momentarily just to spit on your puckered hole: watching as the fat glob slides down the globe of your arse, not before catching it with a finger and sliding it in. he feels you tight hole squeeze as he stares in awe. he lowers his head back onto your throbbing clit and starts suckling on it, drinking up your sweet juices in tandem. he shakes his head from side to side receiving a high pitched sob from you in return. he brings down his heavy hand to slap your soft bum, hard. he rubs the sore spot as his finger continues to work on your ass. he's moaning and groaning, whining and whimpering into your cunt that he loves too much. "Miguel...you have to stop, i need a break PLEASE!" you plead no avail. infact, he pushes another finger into your tight hole. you silently plead he's not hoping to stuff his hefty cock into your puckered hole. it's already too overwhelming for you. he's still playing with your hot pussy while still at it with your rim. he removes his fingers from your asshole and watches it clench and unclench uncontrollably as your orgasm hits like a truck. he lewdly spreads your cheeks apart, mouth agape, watching your tight holes squeeze around empty air, waiting so patiently to be filled by his pretty, long, thick, heavy, pleasurable, delicious, tasty, mouth watering, eye rolling, name yelling, soul snatching, creaming and screaming, sobbing and rolling around the floor, toe curling, earth shattering, squirting fountains, mood lifting, dopamine giving, life changing, powerful thrust, pretty, dark brown tipped - remember nips match tips - veiny all over, a proper 8-9 inches, he's definitely a grower, he grows while he's inside of you so its the most delicious stretch everr, undeniably good, leg shaking, heart wrenching, name forgetting, drooling, mind dumbing, mind breaking, back arching COCK.

i'll glad be on my knees for THIS man. 🥴like im not even joking brooo ill do jumping jacks on the d just for him he can dump ALL the cum he wants in ME, i'll gladly be the mother of his children. i swear, ill be the perfect little wife for him. he wakes up in the morning to freshly made breakfast and coffee. his clothes are washed, dried and ironed to perfection. his shoes are clean and polished, his shower is already running at the perfect temp. he comes home from work? i'll great him with a fat kiss and a home cooked meal. the recliner is out the tv is on his favourite show, when he's getting ready for bed, its ready made, his clothes for tommorrow are out and im waiting for him in bed. i need him so bad he doesn't understand i'm so upset why isn't he real. like...who am i ever going to find thats gonna compare? will i ever find someone that compares, omg imagine if i don't...☠️☠️☠️☠️ see lemme not God forbid🙏🏾

🫨 (ignore that i just wanted to use the emoji ibr)

#smut #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x black reader #miguel x black reader smut #spidervere smut #spiderman smut

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stsgooo · 4 months

Note

moonlit goddess.... maybe jinshi is wondering why his dear maid continues to pull away from him... and maybe gao shun lets it slip that "they shouldn't have been close that day anyway".... and jinshi pesters him until he folds n explains.... IDK I JUST WANT A HAPPY ENDING FOR THOSE TWO :((((( (not forced ofc!! i jus love ur writing!)

Bridge the Gap.

✩࿐ summary: life and death really makes a girl wonder.

warning(s): idiots in love, chapters 61-65 manga spoilers, master/servant like relationship, description of near drowning, suggestive content, ambiguous ending. wc; 9.3k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader.

a/n: tysm for reading my fics means the world to hear ppl actually enjoy them, anon!!! ;') i wasn't really going to make a 2nd part of moonlight goddess as i thought it was okay to leave off there, but i love jinshi sooo i'll take any excuse to write him. this was initially going to be a part 2 of clumsiness, but i figured my plans worked better with what you were envisioning! im not entirely sure how to feel about this, but i hope this lives up to the standards! i apologize for any mistakes, this was written mostly in the early mornings when i had time!

part i. m.list

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"

"Y/N, please, stop asking me that."

"Oh, yes. My apologies, Jinshi-sama. Sorry."

This were, admittedly, not going well. Both of you soaked, hair dripping, and standing in the cave behind a rapid waterfall, and a dull ache in your chest as you recovered. Partly your fault, partly the fault of some crazed marksman that was hiding in the forest, trying to slaughter Jinshi and, by proxy, you.

To understand how you two ended up in this situation, we would have to back up a bit.

"Oh? Y/N, I didn't know you'd be attending this as well?"

"It was a last minute switch with Suiren and I."

"You... enjoy these hunts?"

"I've done everything I could to avoid them in the years past."

Your lack of excitement was apparent and clear. It appeared to bring no ease of mind to Maomao who dragged her rather disgusted eyes from you towards Gaoshun. The older man just kept his attention on the moving scenery outside, a distant glaze over his eyes.

Maomao obviously wasn't optimistic. Just like you. You were almost proud that she had caught on so easily.

The sweltering heat outside seemed to seep into the carriage, cooking you alive in your rather formal wear. Something that you were spotted in far and few, having been years that you truly cleaned yourself prim and proper. You had been on the edge of declining even going when Jinshi, with a grin and a certain glitter in his eyes, had too happily informed you that it was a direct invitation from Shishou.

Your fate had been sealed.

Maomao peeked at you from the corner of her eye, head tilted, "Do you mind me asking why you avoided these events?"

You don't even spare her a glance, "I fear if I spoke my honest opinion, I'd stain Jinshi-sama's reputable name with my foul mouth." You reply flatly in return.

"Please don't." Gaoshun said softly from his seat, looking particularly tired.

You decided to ignore the slump of Maomao's shoulders as if disappointed by the swift interruption and decline on Gaoshun's part. Turning your eyes towards the shifting world outside.

It'd been exactly five months since Jinshi had danced under the moon and you came to the conclusion that any impure thoughts you held for your master would be safely tucked away in the back of your mind (and heart). Forever your secret. Only to be heard in your dreams and upon your death, when you repent for any ill thoughts to the Great Man above.

Everything had returned to its normal routine. You would get up in the morning, prepare breakfast alongside Suiren, eat, then proceed with any chores the woman gave you for the rest of the day, then repeat. Equally, your relationship (or lack thereof) with Jinshi had remained the same. Conversations filled with pleasantries. Simple things that had always lingered between the two of you since you were children. Pleasant and simple. As the world shall ever be.

It got a bit ruffled with Jinshi had cornered you and practically ordered that you come to the hunt instead of Suiren.

In the middle of scrubbing away at the floors, he had found you. Stood above you with that grin, “Y/N, you’re one of my most loyal servants, hm?” He’d begun with an inflection in his tone that made you horribly hesitant.

You had faltered in your scrubbing to stare up at him with confusion, “Uh…well, I suppose, Jinshi-sam’s.”

“Why don’t you join me for the Hunt this up coming week?”

Your had heart dropped. And, by the look Gaoshun had dawned, his had too. The Hunt, in your humble opinion, was a glorified weekend for the men in high positions to rub one off while killing animals. It wasn’t something you found interesting in or much grace. That’s why you had declined Suiren’s question on whether or not you’d like to take her place only three days prior. You had no interest in watching anyone, even Jinshi, size each other up while a defenseless animal bled.

“Jinshi-sama, I believe Suiren—“

Ever the gentleman, he had cut you off, “No worries, Suiren agreed to take over matters while you’re gone! She’s the sweetest, right?” He had appeared all to eager and all too himself for you to ignore.

So, with a heavy heart, you’d sighed, accepting defeat and his invitation.

Now, you would find your torture for a multiple day retreat with a bunch of men with their c—

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, bringing an unruly end to your thoughts as you all carefully exited and were greeted by the sunshine. The humid air heavy with the condensation of the area and already making a sweat appear on your brow. But, ever the lady, you pleasantly tuck your hands into your sleeves and follow behind Gaoshun and Basen.

You were a little surprised as Maomao stuck closely to your side; but not all too surprised to find her attention on your surroundings, vague surprise in her eyes. The area was as equally as beautiful as it was a burden to you.

The buildings weren't anything for you to revel at. Spending an entire lifetime within palaces and in buildings as equally or above standard to those, it just wasn't anything special. The nature surrounding the area, however, was something to stare in awe at. Lucious trees, beautiful grass, and beautiful array of plants and flowers. It almost made you regret all the time you had spent away from this place.

But it wasn't like you had the chance to truly return since the last time you were here. Nothing could bring back that little girl.

You deterred your thoughts away as Gaoshun slid the door open. Immediately, you were hit with a wave of heat that you made you tense up. It was apparent that you wouldn't find your much needed cool down you were desperate to find since you were confined in the carriage days prior.

You were the last to enter and when you did, you faltered at the sight before you.

Jinshi was sprawled across the couch, wisps of his dark hair framed his sweat glistened face, eyes closed in contempt. A small dent appeared between his eyebrows and a frown adorned his face. However, your attention was caught on a drop of sweat that made its way from his hairline, down his cheek, his jaw, his long slender neck, and past his— his collar.

His modesty was of no worry, apparently, as he laid with his robes parted open to reveal his chest. Itself was glistening with sweat. Delicate skin on showcase for all to see. It brought a soft blush to your cheeks, as you blatantly ogled him. Pressing your lips together to contain whatever thoughts you had about him from burst from your seams.

"Y/N," Jinshi's voice hit your ears, tender and smooth. You're suddenly hyperaware that he's staring at you with raised brows, lids peeked open to stare at you.

You straighten your back and offer a bow, "Jinshi-sama. Do you require anything?" You had to get it together. It was inappropriate to behave in such a scandalous way. "Request for ice? Tea?"

Jinshi shook his head, sitting up, "No, rather I'd like for you to rest after such a long journey."

You falter, your arms wavering from their position in front of your face, "Uh.... Wouldn't the room be more tolerable with some ice?" You spare a glance around the room and grimace. The windows are shut tight, only bits of sun peeking through the cracks. Basen looks rather miserable, but trying to appear his usual stern self. While Gaoshun and Maomao seem rather okay with showcasing their small discontent with the heat. A nice cube would help at least cool down a bit.

You also couldn't stand another second seeing Jinshi like that. As if he were some type of nymph testing your faith.

"Really, it's fine—" Jinshi attempted, but you were already turning on your heel.

"I will return with ice." You didn't miss the way Jinshi's face fell and his eyes cut to Gaoshun who shook his head in return.

Your fast paced adventure led you to the main hall, where people were moving in and out. Various officers and servants filled the area, finding their rooms or helping their masters and fellow officers to their own rooms. Everyone appeared to be feeling the heat as they wiped their brows. Much like you, they appeared to be attempting to defeat the heat.

You found your way towards an attendant who helped you get something situated for Kousen. Something that brought you both distaste and irritation. Something to be addressed at a later time.

Joy filled you as you turned around, ice would soon be in the room and you could crowd around it like it was a new lover.

As you were about to make your way back to the room, you ran into someone.

You were about to apologize when they whirled around and you let out an audibly sigh that conveyed your unwavering exhaustion for them.

"Hey, watch where— Oh, hey, " Lihaku blinked, kind face twisted up in vague recognition. “You’re that lady-in-waiting. What are you doing out here?”

“I’m on loan from Jinshi-sama,” you answered rather flatly, not missing the small frown accompanying the man’s face.

You were vaguely familiar with Lihaku. What with Maomao getting involved in the problems within the inner and rear palace, you were bound to make new acquaintances when she was dragging you around. Lihaku was the first one you had ran into. On orders to accompany the girl from Suiren, you had gotten to see her investigative skills firsthand. You were impressed, surely, when she had made the discovery about the potatoes. But the impression was overshadowed by Lihaku, who had spent the entire time chatting your ear off.

He was kind, handsome, and smart when it called for it. But you could tell that, like most officers, he had an airheaded vibe to him. One that deterred you from making things too complicated with him.

Friendly enough, and one of the few people that didn't seem to disinterest Maomao, you accepted his very vague and shadowed feature in your life.

"Well, that's nice of him." He said, clearly disinterested in where this conversation was going. "I'm glad to see a friendly face, though."

You offered a small smile, "As am I. Not many kind faces around here often."

"You can say that again." You hear a loud inhuman snort and a tug on your gown, taking a large step back, you look down. A large dog with drool leaking out from the sides of its mouth stared back at you. "Oh, hey, boy, no!"

"O-Oh my." You uttered, slightly breathless as you looked at the large beast.

Lihaku glanced at you, offering a withering smile, "Eh, sorry, he gets excited around new people— not a great trait in a dog like this, you would think, but he's a real gem. Just has his moments. Hey, now—"

Lihaku pulled out something metal and brought it to his lips, then blew. It emitted little to no sound, at least, any you could truly hear, making your perk up when the dog tilted his head and sat respectfully before the officer. He blew again and the dog laid. Again, and the dog stood on all fours.

You smiled softly, watching in wonder as it obeyed whatever silent orders it was getting from Lihaku.

"He's very smart." You observed as the dog sat down again.

"Right?" Lihaku beamed, "I can get him to come running from kilometers away if need be."

"Useful when you're in a bind."

"For sure!" Lihaku's demeanor reminded you of a proud father as he puffed his chest and looked distastefully towards the cages lined up outside. "He's real smart, yet they still want to use those birds in the end."

You didn't want to point out the various problems that could come with using a dog; as there were probably another list of various pros to actually use the dog. The hawks had been used for years and you doubt that some dogs would be taking their place any time soon. It'd probably be a long time before these arrogant men came to their senses and found better means. Despite dogs being loyal and determined to their cause, the hawk would always be chosen.

Or, the better alternative, they didn't do this hunt anymore.

But you knew that was a longshot.

It wasn't long after that you bid Lihaku a farewell and good luck on his duties, making your way back to the room. You exchanged pleasant smiles and greetings with familiar faces, but nothing that kept you from relaxing much longer.

When you returned to the room, everyone had found their own areas and activities to occupy themselves. Gaoshun and Basen were playing Go near the windows, Maomao was reclining on the floor where a sliver or air was flowing through (from where, you weren't completely sure). Jinshi was back to sitting on the couch, a book in his hands. Something that was quickly disregarded as you gently closed the door behind you.

"The ice should be up soon." You informed the room with a respectful bow.

Jinshi didn't look at all interested, "What took you so long?" It sounded like contempt. Irritation if you had to really dig. Something that made you falter.

You look up and see the pout on his lips— childish, as always. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jinshi-sama. I happened to run into a friend and got caught up in conversation." You apologized softly. The last thing you wanted to do was bring him more annoyance and disturbance.

He straightened considerably, "A friend?"

You didn't like the way it was spoken. A touch of disbelief was enough for you to eye him with your own distaste. Even if you and Lihaku were nothing more than strangers with vague familiarity with one another.

"Yes, a friend." You confirmed with thin lips. Despite your inner voice telling you to reign in your attitude, you upturn your nose and decide to join Maomao— whose eyes were shooting between the both of you with trepidation and vague sympathy. "He was being kind."

Jinshi huffed, "I didn't know you had any secret friends."

"Not a secret. Just don't find any time to speak about it with you, Jinshi-sama."

That made the man falter, a darkened shadow over his face. "I suppose." He frowned heavily now, squinting at you with something unreadable. "Who is this friend of yours?"

You, finding no reason to lie, continued on, "Officer Lihaku."

In an instant, three heads snapped to you with varying degrees of emotions. Maomao looked shocked, but welcomed the information with a shrug. Gaoshun looked pale and overwrought, for whatever reason you weren't entirely sure, but you had an itching feeling it had to do with Jinshi.

The same Jinshi that was now face down on the couch, letting out a miserable sound. Speaking into the fabric of it all, unintelligiable. But you swore you heard something along the lines of— "that second rate, again?!" As he continued to rant and cry.

With that, you decided it best to not involve yourself with whatever Jinshi was battling. You wouldn't win anyway.

You'd always hated Kousen-sama.

He almost always seemed to loom in the shadows. An masked man who held no personality or words of his own. Pleasantries offered out of necessity and not because that was simply the right thing to do. He was mysterious. He hardly appeared, but he was always there. A reminder for what things would return to one odd day. A symbol for exactly where your loyalties and master lied.

Kousen-sama was to always appear before others with his mask on. To avoid them seeing the ghastly sight of scars and blemishes that adorned his skin because of his sickness (whatever that may be) and spare him the indecency of stares. He was unmoving. Stone amongst he lively environment that ate away at their lunches and softly conversed with one another.

Prince. The respectable Kousen-sama. The great son of the empire. The brave prince against all odds.

Oh, how much you hate Kousen-sama.

But you still had woken up early to help him pin his hair back. To slip his robes on. To delicately place the mask on, fingering the bangs out through the slits to allow some type of familiarity. You were his confidant. His reliable and kind servant.

As always, you and Basen stood behind Kousen-sama with your backs straight and eyes ahead. A pleasant servant on loan and stern guard, you both were familiar faces against the unrecognizable figure in front of you. It reminded the people exactly who was before them. Exactly who had decided to grace their presence.

Still, it brought you discomfort.

You still eyed Gaoshun in the corner of you eye. The older man sat at the other end of the table. Maomao standing behind him with a distant look in her eyes, obviously not paying attention to the things happening around her. Not entirely surprising, but you felt the overwhelming urge to scold her for her lack in etiquette.

Oh, you're starting to think like Suiren, aren't you?

Suddenly, Basen is tensing up beside you and Kousen-sama is turning his head away from a scowling Shishou. Your eyes snap between the two with a scowl of your own. Whatever that man had said—

Kousen-sama's hand clenches. So tightly that his knuckles turn white and he shakes. You know something isn't right. You had missed something. Something so obvious and you were too concerned about Gaoshun.

The man stands from his chair, the legs loudly clattering against the tiled and stone floor. You watch uneasily as Kousen-sama raises, takes a moment to collect himself, then practically speeds away from the room. You don't waste a moment to bring your sleeve covered hands to your mouth and make your own exit.

As you pass a concerned Maomao and Gaoshun, you hear a barely uttered whisper from the girl— heat. Food.

You try to hide your confusion and worry as you follow behind your master.

It doesn't take you long to find him.

Down the path, up against a tree, the masked figure was hunched and obviously breathing heavily. You draw closer, outstretching a hand to gently press it against the large expanse of his back.

"Kousen-sama, are you quite alright?" You ask softly, hunching slightly to capture a glimpse of his eyes from that slit in the fabric.

When you do, you're almost breathless. His violet eyes are alight with something distant and scornful. Eyebrows furrowed as he meets your own gaze.

"Y/N...?" He sounded vaguely surprised under it all, breathless himself. As if he couldn't quite believe that you were here in front of him.

You nod once, reaching out and grabbing ahold of one of the ties keeping the mask all together. "I'm going to remove this. No one is around."

His hand is suddenly wrapped around your wrist. Not tight or unrelenting, but enough to make you freeze. Warm and clammy skin against your own to make you feel scorched. You don't need to see his entire face to know that his jaw was clenched now.

"I can't," he said in all his self-assuredness, "Someone might still come."

What a pain. You thought to yourself as you draw in a heavy breath.

You don't waste a second to slip under his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders and allowing him to lean most of his weight against you. "No worries, sir, I'll just find us some place where no one else is around."

You gently guide Kousen-sama from the line of trees and deep within it. Finding an oddly familiar path created within your mind to follow that takes you towards an overflowing waterfall. A loud crash of water hitting the rocks and body of water below that brought you a distant sense of comfort. The refreshing smell of the water hits your nostrils and you take a deep breath.

With Kousen-sama against you, you felt the sweltering heat hit you tenfold. But the mist from the waterfall brushed against your skin like a gently caress from an old lover.

This is it.

You stumble over to one of the few trees next to the waterfall and gently guide Kousen-sama to sit up against it. The man took a heavy breath and you finally felt a little at ease. Reaching forward, you moved to take the cloth off once again and then—

A loud thud and chunks of dirt hit your cheek.

You frowned, looking to the ground only a could feet away and saw a small crater. A sharp smell filled your senses and you stiffened. It was an unkind and almost putrid scent. The smoke from the small crater was the main cause.

"Eh—?"

You were suddenly cut off as Kousen-sama wrapped his arms around you, jerking you upwards and away from the tree. You would've basked in the way his body was pressed against your back or the way his fingers seemed to mold into your abdomen— you would've if it weren't for the loud crack in the air then the pieces of bark that flew through the air around you.

The tree that he had been pressed up against only moments ago was now split open with a piece of metal imbedded into the wood. It looked eerily similar to the same that had been in the ground moments ago.

"Is that a feifa?!" His voice pierced through your thoughts, oddly frantic and uneasy as he moved quickly from the tree and towards the river.

You glanced up at him and found him already staring down at you. Eyes narrowed and, if it weren't for the mask, his entire face would be scrunched up in that familiar distaste and panic. Yet he seemed eerily calm as he dragged you through the trees and into the water.

"Sorry, but this is gonna get a bit dramatic." His voice was soft against your head, warm breath caressing your hair as he wraps a protective arm around your head.

Your eyebrows raise, "Dramatic— WHAT?" You should've known his tone and choice of his words were a warning for what was to come, but you were still caught off guard.

He gave no indication that he was going to jump off the cliff.

"Jinshi, you goddamn idiot!"

You mustn't get ideas above your station.

The water was oddly clear. Even with the mix of the overflowing waterfall, under it all was peaceful and calm. Fishes and water like insects lived in harmony.

Cool and calm. Always.

You are there to serve your master.

The little boy's head burst from the water with a big grin, short hair flat against his head and dripping. The sun reflecting off his violet eyes and almost blinded the little girl curled up on the side shore. Her face set into a scowl, clothes drenched, and a looming unimpressed older man behind her.

"It's so nice out, why don't you come in!" Beckoned the boy from the water.

The little girl shot him a nasty look, "You know why, you jerk!"

The boy's grin faltered, tilting his head at his friend, "Eh? Why are you being mean?" His voice wavered on the ends, still just floating in the middle of the basin.

"I'm not mean! You're mean! You're the biggest meanie!" The little girl stood up to throw an accusatory finger at the boy, her sleeve heavy and uncomfortable as she moved.

The boy's face reddened, eyebrows scrunched together, "I'm not mean! You're mean!" He repeated.

"No, you are! You're the biggest meanie in the whole wide world!"

"No, you are!"

"You are! You pushed me into the water!"

"You are! You should swim!"

"I hope you drown, meanie!"

The boy's expression fell completely. A heartbroken glint in his eyes flooding them. His lips trembled. But, before he could do something like cry, he was already swimming deeper

Nothing less, nothing more.

"Now, now," a large hand rested on the little girl's shoulder and gently tugged her back, turning her around to face the man. He seemed to be trying to appear as tender as he could to try calm down the girl's high nerves. "No need to get angry."

"But, Gaoshun—" The little girl whined.

Gaoshun shook his head, patting her shoulder, "No, we don't argue. Try to forgive and forget, yeah?" He reminded the lessons that he'd attempted multiple times to teach the two children. "No reason to walk around with resentment for others, right?"

The little girl scoffed her shoe against the ground, a pout on her lips, "Do I have to, Gaoshun?" She knew what this would call for. Exactly how this would end for her.

The man heaved a sigh, nodding, "Yes, you do. Now, go reconcile. I'll wait here."

The girl faltered as the man raised to his full height, cupping his hands behind his back. She dragged her feet through the soft soil and found her way towards the boy once more. He was grasping onto the edge of the bank, sniffling and snorting. His shoulders shook and his face was stuffed into his arms.

The little girl frowned. "Um... Are you okay?"

The boy stiffened, not turning around as he answered, "No."

"I'm sorry, I said something real mean." The little girl uttered, stepping closer as she clutched her wet clothes. "I just... You pushed me into the water, I can't..."

"I thought you were my friend!" The little boy whirled around on her, face red and eyes filled with big tears. He looked enraged but incredibly disheartened. The girl blinks in return as the boy glares. "You say such mean things to me. Friends aren't supposed to be mean!"

The girl clenched her jaw, "You were mean to me first!" She accused.

The boy sniffled, wiping under his nose with his forearm. "You're my friend." He repeated as if that cleared up any anger.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The little girl slowly sat beside him, her feet dipping under the water. "It is nice." She whispered.

The little boy dragged his eyes upwards, looking hurt but hopeful. "Right?" he asked, equally as quiet.

"You're my friend too, Jinshi." The little girl nudge him with her leg.

Jinshi's eyes twinkled, wide and all too bright, "Really?"

"Really." The little girl confirmed with a toothless grin. "My friend forever and ever!"

Jinshi positively beamed, the water sloshing as he jumped happily. "Forever and ever, and ever!"

"And ever!"

"It's no longer... appropriate for you and Jinshi-sama to be friends."

"I don't... I don't understand. He's my friend."

"His mother no longer finds it appropriate for you to concern yourself with Jinshi."

"But, Gaoshun—"

"No, Y/N. It's over. Come along. Suiren has a present for you."

"He's.... He's my friend...."

"I'm so sorry."

You are to give your life to your master.

The woman paused, back pin straight, as she entered her master's office, finding him curled up in the corner, muttering nonsensically to himself. The guard of said master was watching on with a pitiful expression of his own, only breaking his eyes away when the woman entered the room. His expression only seemed to deepen.

She didn't need to ask. There was an unspoken understanding as to what their master's breakdown was regarding. The Apothecary. The one that had gotten the attention of everyone in the palace as of late. The one that had been causing her great grief as of late— and was about to create more.

"Jinshi-sama?" The woman called softly, stepping closer.

Jinshi's lifeless eyes continued to stare at the floor below him. A gentle rocking seeming to soothe himself from the rages of his mind. "I don't need anything, Y/N. Thank you, kindly." He uttered just as lifelessly.

The devoted servant's chest clenched. Her face flushed as she reached out a wavering hand. To place it delicately against his hunched back. To offer her best comforting words that she could. To distract him away from her.

Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

She faltered. This wasn't her place. This wasn't a part of her duties unless Jinshi said so. Inappropriate behavior wasn't called for. It will be punished severly.

Retracting her hand, she stands, and offers a respectful bow. "Please call me if you need anything, Jinshi-sama." And left him in his dark corner.

"Gaoshun, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Jinshi-sama."

"You have been in my life for as long as I can remember. You remember more than I possibly could about my younger years. Whatever happened to cause me and Y/N to fall apart?"

"...."

"It had to be around the time I was eight that I noticed we were growing apart. Even now, I see it so clearly."

"It's been a long time, Jinshi-sama. You're no longer children."

"All the more reason to know, isn't it?"

"I don't know...."

"Gaoshun, nothing will come of it. I'm simply curious."

"..."

"I'm sorry to put you in this position. Please return to what you were doing."

"Jinshi-sama.... you might not like the truth..."

"I usually don't."

"Where to begin.... Before her eighth birthday—"

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"H....E��"

Everything felt so muffled. Faraway. Featherlight.

Was that a pressure against your chest? A thump that came into quick successions, then stopped. For something soft and ever so delicate to press against your lips?

Everything was distant. So far away from your grasp. From your state of being. As if you were already long gone from whatever reality you were in moments ago.

"H—"

It was almost like floating. A gentle sway and a crack.

A joyful gliding against the sky that soothed you away from worries and woes.

Thump. Thump. Lips.

Repeating endlessly. Happily. Wetly?

Thump. Thump. Lips.

You welcomed it. Whatever it was. Whatever kept the rhythm. The wonderful rhythm.

Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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Thump. Thump. Lips.

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THUMP. THUM—

You shot up with a cough.

Your throat burned and head ached terribly. Your eyes almost felt like they were about to pop out of your head and roll away. You felt horrible.

It didn't help that you were drenched from head to toe either.

Beside you, there was a heavy and loud sigh of relief as he fell to his backside. He let a silence fall over you both as you recovered, hand pressed against your throat and heaving.

Jesus. Had you almost...

The thought alone almost made you sick.

"I'm sorry. I thought.... I didn't think you still couldn't swim." His voice was soft, barely heard over the waterfall. Kind and cautious, worried and terrified. Things that seeped from his tone as if it were bleeding out and bearing all its insides to you.

Exposing him to you.

You peeked over your loose strands of hair to glare viciously at him. "When would I have the time to learn to swim?" You shot back ruthlessly, not entirely caring from etiquette in this moment. "You've lost your mind."

"Right." Jinshi immediately agreed, almost looking fearful as he watched you.

You push yourself up and take in a deep breath, coughing slightly at the burn of your throat. Taking in your surroundings, you swore that this was that—

"Are you really alright?"

You glanced back at the man and found him still sat on the damp ground. His eyebrows are furrowed and a small frown on his lips as he stared up at you. It made you uncomfortable. To see such a glittering violet staring back at you earnestly. Honestly.

You instead clutch onto your dress, "Suiren is gonna kill me." You scoff, tugging the garments apart.

You could hear Jinshi sputter behind you. The gravel and dirt below him crunching as he probably scrambled up from his spot.

You spared a feeble look over your shoulder to find him with his eyes clenched slowed, hand covering your body from his gaze. You snap your gaze back around and tug the fabric a little too hard as you scoff.

You wouldn't deny the pang of hurt that clenched your chest.

"Don't worry, Jinshi-sama, you won't have to see my unruly body of mine for long. I just want to make sure Suiren doesn't slaughter me when we return."

"I— No, I'm just— okay." He finally muttered.

You are stripped down to your underthings, placing the dress and various pieces on the ground as delicately as you can to avoid too much dirt being stained into the fabric.

As you place the last bit of clothing down, you hear the flutter of fabric behind you.

Jinshi is a bright red, gently tossing his robe down behind him. His back is facing you and you know its for whatever mock sense of modesty he wants to give the both of you. You instinctively reach out and take his robe in your grasp, twisting it and squeezing it to watch out a fair amount of water drip out.

"You worry about mine later. Take care of your things first."

Yeah, right, You think as you twist it with an unrelenting grip. You are there to serve your master. It's one of the first things you learn. His needs came before your own. His needs were your needs.

Jinshi snatched the robe away and squeezed the fabric tight, an overflowing amount of water released from the cloth and into the ground.

Okay, so maybe he was better at it than you.

You nod, turning your attention towards your own garments and try to ignore the overwhelming feeling that you had eyes on your rear.

"So, um—" Jinshi cleared his throat when his eyes dragged away from you, cheeks a bright red. "What now?"

"Well, we could attempt at trying to swim back—"

"You can't swim."

"I was going to say that."

"Oh, sorry."

There's a soft silence between the both of you as you finish up. Gently redressing, you make your way towards the entrance of the cave, where the waterfall is blocking it from any negative eyes. You press your lips into a thin line and regard it bitterly. You remember this waterfall.... you could recall the times you whimsical pondered what it'd be like to ride down it like in those stories.

Jinshi had promised such when you both were too young and too dumb to realize how naïve dreams like that were.

You couldn't really judge that mini-you, for you had your own dreams of—

"Remember when Gaoshun first brought us here?"

You hadn't realized that Jinshi made his way over until he was standing beside you. Robes lose over his shoulders and tugging on his top layer. Violet eyes were watching the water as if it were a canvas of memories in the long distant past. Something to be admired and viewed with daisies and smiles. Not to be addressed as anything but good or amazing. Not to see the truth of it all.

You press your lips together, drawing in a heavy breath, "I remember you pushing me in the water and Gaoshun having to pull me out."

Jinshi's face screws up slightly, a faint blush on his features as he almost looks around with shame. "Right...." He straightens, "I'm sorry."

You blink, "Huh?"

Jinshi glances at you with a small smile, "I, uh, never really apologized back then. Made you apologize like you did something wrong." He explains weakly.

You raise an amused brow, "I told you I wished you would drown."

"I kinda deserved it!" Jinshi counters, his lips cracking into a grin. That charming grin he gets that makes your heart flutter. Make you hopeful for terrible and wistful. "I'm real sorry."

You smile softly, eyes kind and soft as you regard him, "I forgave you a long time, Jinshi-sama."

Jinshi's expression faltered, "Don't call me...." He trailed off awkwardly, turning his attention back to the unrelenting waterfall. You watched him for that moment. That split second where it looked like he was actually going to say something that would make you lightheaded. His jaw working and the muscle jumping as he seems to contemplate his next words.

Say anything and I'll cling to it, You think, watching his lips part, I always have. I always will.

"I'm surprised you were the one that followed me out. I thought the Apothecary might've done it."

You tense. That was certainly not what you expected him to say. Of all the things he could say? The Apothecary.

The waterfall in front of you is suddenly much too loud and violent. The cave seems to darken and your eyes drag from Jinshi to stare at your bare feet. Of course. Of course. Why wouldn't he want Maomao? Why had you even came here? Who were you to get between whatever silent signal he was trying to send to the other girl.

Him and Maomao. It was nicer than him and you. Jinshi and Y/n.

You straighten, pushing down any ill thoughts and heavy feelings into the dark pits of your chest and mind. "I apologize for the intrusion. I thought it'd make more sense for me to accompany you, Jinshi-sama."

"Why are you apologizing....?" He trailed off and then made a noise that sounded eerily similar to that of a caught man. "No, wait, I'm really glad that you're the one who came! Like really glad!"

"You don't have to spare me, Jinshi-sama. I'm a woman now, not a little girl."

"I'm not—" He visibly slumps, closing his eyes and trying to collect whatever thoughts he has and place them appropriately. He draws in a breath and faces you, looking oddly serious compared to his usual self. "I'm not trying to spare your feelings. I was just trying to say that— Well, it's not— I want you here, Y/n."

He's sparing your feelings. He's being kind. He doesn't actually want you there. You can't be friends.

You don't spare him a response. Instead, walking further into the cave. You raise your eyebrows, looking at the gaping hole above you where light and the sounds of nature filtered in. What could possibly get you both out of there...?

Whistle. Sit.

Of course. Him.

Jinshi sighs, "I spoke to Gaoshun before we—"

You place your fingers in the corner of your mouth and blow. A loud whistle bounces off the cave walls and out of the hole. You wait and hope to hear a bark or see the familiar tall man, but there's nothing.

"What are you doing?" Jinshi asks slowly, glancing between you and the hole above.

"Hello?" You cup your hands over your mouth and shout as loudly as you can. "Is anyone out there?"

Jinshi frowns, staring at you uneasily, "Y/n, please, we don't want to attract them this direction."

In the mess of almost drowning and seeing peeps of Jinshi's bare skin, you'd almost forgotten that you both had been chased down here by some violent assassin. Rather foolish, if you were honest.

You place the tips of your fingers against your lips and try to force the blush spreading across your cheeks off. "Sorry." You offer a bow of your head, despite the position you both find yourselves in.

You receive no response which causes you to peek at him. The stare that he's leveling you with doesn't bring you any type of comfort. It usually meant he was about to say something that—

"Hop on my back and see if you can reach up there."

—you wouldn't like.

Your eyebrows shot upwards and you stared at him with wide eyes. If Suiren was here and knew what he just proposed, she'd positively lose her mind. No matter how long she had known you— she'd think it improper. He was your boss and you were his lowly servant. To be in an position above him or treating him like a mat, it was...

It was simply ridiculous.

"But—"

"If you're the one below, you'll get crushed." He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Do it."

And that's how you ended up here. Legs wrapped around Jinshi's shoulders and heads, hand reaching out for the dirt above. You dig your fingers in and glance down at the man below you.

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"

Jinshi sighed for what seemed the hundredth time that day, his hand on your thigh squeezing gently. "Y/N, please stop asking me that."

You grimace, "My apologies, Jinshi-sama. Sorry." You shakily raise from your place, ignoring the soft and deep grunt Jinshi gives as you stand on his shoulders.

You dig your nails into the damp dirt and begin to tug yourself up.

This is it. Finally, you could get into the open forest once again. You're not going to be suffocated by his presence. Everything will return back to its rightful places—

You froze when it smacked you in the forehead.

You tried to keep calm as you felt the slimy breathing thing rest on your skin. Body tensed up and eyes staring widely at the bright sky above.

"Y/N?" Jinshi softly called, noticing the way you tensed.

"F—Frog." You utter, jaw clenched tight and you felt it shift as you take a deep breath. "A frog."

Jinshi blinked, looking up at you with his own wide eyes, "Hey, don't-don't freak out! Just shake your head and it'll hop off."

You shake a little, but follow his instructions. However, you may have overestimated the shake as you lose your grip on the dirt and begin to fall back.

"Hey!"

The tumble down is short and not all that hurtful, like you had been expecting. You had closed your eyes in anticipation, fear of having to watch the ground quickly approach too much for your tiny heart. You expected to feel the damp mud to be seeping into your clothes and little bits of stone and bark digging into your skin. However—

Nothing.

There was nothing except the soft silk under your fingers. The scent that resembled a sweet fruit, one that you had smelt quite often in the mornings. In the noons, the evenings, the nights, repeat. You knew that smell and that familiar beat against your own chest.

Peeking your eyes open, you find that Jinshi is already staring back at you. The first thing you notice is that you both are extremely close to one another. His breath fans against your dewy face, making goosebumps raise off your skin and a shiver sent down your spin. Next is his tender expression, Eyes gentle and twinkling. His expression isn't filled with pain or anything that would indicate that he was uncomfortable with the very short distance between you both. The last thing you notice is the fact that your body is pressed against his.

Your complexion flushes and you blink down at him.

He's warm. Incredibly warm. A sharp contrast to his damp clothes, which are open and pooling under his shoulder blades, revealing his bare chest to you. Your breath is ripped from you as you stare at the plump skin. You've seen it a million times. Every day as you help him get ready for the day. It should be normal. Should be something that doesn't make you lightheaded.

But it does.

He's right there. Right against you. You can feel his heartbeat ramming against his chest and into yours. You can feel every small breath he takes—as if hanging onto this moment with, what? Trepidation? Unease? You weren't entirely sure but you knew that you felt light.

Was it so bad that you felt nice in this moment? That this warmth was wrong? Was it so out of your reach that you simply couldn't imagine a man wanting to embrace you in a way?

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

Yes. It was.

You clenched your jaw, ignoring the tender look in Jinshi's eyes as you try to bring your mind into the present.

The frog.

It wasn't anything that you wanted to touch, but Jinshi was your master. Your discomforts and fears must be pushed away for his sake and needs.

Reaching down, you feel for any signs of the frog. It wasn't large, but it wasn't entirely small either. It wouldn't be hard to find in all it's slimy and— There it is.

Your hand brushed it and you feel almost elated to find it. Your hand cupped around the bulge from Jinshi's robes. It feels much bigger than the average frog that'd been on your forehead. It was unmoving to, except for the small twitch it gives as you rest your palm down. You gripped it.

"Hng," Jinshi grunts, his eyes close. You're a little shocked as his hips shift, his hands at your hips dig into your flesh, almost too eager. You snap your eyes upward to his suddenly sweating and flushed face. "I-I'm sorry, but... but could you move your hand? It's making things, um, rather difficult."

Difficult?

You grip onto the twitching frog below you—

"U-Uh—" Jinshi moans in a deep and guttural way that would make anyone, especially you, malfunction. It doesn't help that his hands latch onto you harder, pressing you closer and releasing a stuttering breath against your ear.

Why was he squirming so much? Why was his face so red and dripping with sweat? Why was his chest heaving and his hands flexing around your skin? And why was this thing twitching and getting bigger in your hold....

Oh.

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

You felt a little sick at your intrusion. At the gall. You couldn't believe yourself. You had violated one of the single rules you were ever given. You violated Jinshi's space. His entire being. You were to be punished and hated— ousted from your position.

Disgusted with yourself, you slowly stand up. Jinshi's softly panting from his position on the ground, running a hand through his mused hair.

"S-Sorry, I haven't— I'm a bit—" Jinshi's obviously embarassed and uncomfortable. Look what you've done. You've ruined it all. "Hey, where are you going?"

Before you could think much more as his hands grip your hips once again and pull you down.

You're sat on his his lap and you could feel it.

"J-Jinshi-sama, I'm so-I'm so sorry!" You tucked your head down, shaking with trembling lips.

Jinshi's hands fall to your thighs, limp, "Eh...?"

"What I did was truly inappropriate and-and I will take any and all punishment!"

"Punishment...?" He sounded terribly confused, still a bit breathless. You keep your head ducked and he remains unmoved. "Why would I... you're not getting punished."

"I give my life to you. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished." You repeated softly under your breath, tucking your hands against your face to hide away from his gaze. From the judgement and hatred. "It's only just."

There's a longstanding silence between the both of you and you're hopeful that he's coming to his senses. That you'd be released and freed. That you would finally accept the gap and space between them. To fall away, finally, to the shadows.

It was tarnished the moment Jinshi wraps your hands around your own, gently prying your hands away from your face.

He doesn't look vengeful or angered. No. No, he looks kind. As he always has been. Kind and considerate. Honest and open. He'd always been so...

He'd never really been angry with you. Not without sadness being overbearing. Always so quick to forgive you. To push everything away with a smile and crinkle of his eyes.

"Y/N..." His words are as soft as his expression.

Your hands shake, "Please... Please hate me." You pleaded quietly, pressing your forehead against his hands as if he were a monk to be begged to.

"I'm not going to punish you or... or anything of the sort. Why would you want that?"

You draw in a watery breath, shoulders shaking, "It's easier to let go that way." You admitted.

"Let go of what?"

"Of my love for you."

"What?!"

His shout echoed off the cave walls. Your humiliation and embarrassment was quick to follow once it bounced back at you. Made you flinch back and try to push yourself back from his lap. Why did you say anything? Fool. Disgusting fool.

"Hey, hey, hey," Jinshi's hands wrap around your wrists and tug you forward a bit. You refuse to meet his eye. You refuse to be humiliated and demeaned— "Don't do that. Don't close off."

You clench your jaw and try to push the humilation deep within you, taking a deep calming breath as you stared at his bare collar. "You're so kind and so... you. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable or disgusted, but I need to tell you. And then I would hope that you would let me go."

Jinshi's eyebrows shot up. "Let you go?"

You've been thinking about this for some time. That it all would be better if, in the end, you were to serve someone else. That you were pawned off for some soldier instead of this slow torture. This uncomfortable, unbearable tiptoeing.

"I would like for you to offer me to a soldier or anywhere else."

The reaction is instant. The way Jinshi's complexion darkens and he stares at you with wide eyes. He slumps into the damp ground and almost turns into putty. His hold on you slackens and gives you ample opportunity to move away. But you're frozen in your spot.

"Why would I do that?" Jinshi's voice is quiet, slow, "You're... You're mine."

A blush takes over your cheeks, "Jinshi-sama, It's not appropriate! I shouldn't be like this with you."

"What if I like it?"

You blink at him. "Huh?"

Jinshi leans forward, his thumb gently skirting against your skin. "What if I have some love for you too? What if I don't care about what's appropriate or follows the rules."

I would ask who you are. You were tempted to say but your mouth was clamped shut in shock. Following the rules had been completely him. He was put in his current position now to ensure the rules in the rear palace were being followed diligently. The thought that he would love someone like you when there were people like Maomao or princesses out there. People much more deserving of his devotion. It wasn't right.

As if sensing you're not believing him, he pulls away and presses his lips thin. "Okay, I'll convince you." He straightens up and takes a breath. "I spoke to Gaoshun not too long ago. Before we came here and I know everything now."

A pause. Everything. He knew everything now? Everything is so much. Everything is... well, everything. What exactly had Gaoshun told him?

"What's everything?"

"That my mother didn't want you around anymore. That Gaoshun told you that you weren't allowed around me anymore. That you stopped being my friend and became my employee."

Your stare up at Jinshi with wide eyes. "That's not...Us being friends wasn't right anymore."

Jinshi frowned, shaking his head and his hands slide up to your arms. "If I had my way, I would've had you by my side all that time. Not as some lady-in-waiting, but as my equal."

You shake your head, ignoring the erratic beating of your heart against your chest. "Don't say that. Don't say things you don't mean, Jinshi." You beg softly.

Jinshi reaches out, wrapping his hands around your own, pressing it against his chest. "I mean it with everything in me. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have ever been separated from you. Forget what my mother said." His words were sweet, tempting. They made you lightheaded. So did the sudden brightness and tender smile on his face. "That's the first time you've called me Jinshi since we were kids."

"What? I've always called you Jinshi."

"No, you've always called me Jinshi-sama."

"Oh."

You suppose you had.

"Jinshi," You utter, unsure of what else you both could say.

Jinshi's expression, if possible, softens further, leaning forward an inch. "Yes?" He whispers back just as softly.

Your eyes trail between his eyes before moving to his lips, parted and glistening, "Jinshi..."

Jinshi's hand slides up your thigh and his lips are ghosting against yours, "I'm here. I promise." He whispers before pressing your lips together delicately.

Your heart soars. Your hands shakily press against his cheeks, drawing closer as his own press your hips together. He's soft. He's tender. He's cautious and all encompassing. Filling your senses and making you lightheaded.

As you both part for a breath, he flips you onto your back. His hand grips the underside of your thigh and presses you close enough that he lets out a soft and broken sound.

His eyes are heavily lidded as he gazes down at you, lips pink. "I just want you. No one else. I promise." He utters.

You twist your hands into his hair, eyes fluttering. "You're it." You pass back.

His lips are back on yours. Wet and eager. This is sudden. Fast. But you've been waiting for so long. Had been clinging onto the smallest of things. Desperate to have this closeness that you had now. To feel his skin against yours. His breath mixing with your own. Everything him and everything you intertwined.

You just wanted to cherish this—

WOOF!

You and Jinshi both tense up, jumping. Looking over his shoulder, your eyes widen upon finding a familiar dog staring down at you both, wagging tail eager and happy to see you.

Jinshi's eyebrows furrow, "Huh...?"

There's not much warning before the dog is jumping down. Landing straight on Jinshi's back, causing the poor man to let out a pained sound. He's squishing you against the ground as the dog stands on his back, happily lapping his tongue against your cheek.

Vague disgust and disappointment wash over you, but you smile all the same. "Oh, boy!"

He barks again. A greeting you're sure.

Above, Lihaku and, surprisingly, Maomao appear. Both of them stare down at you with varying degrees of emotions. Lihaku looked excited and kinda like his dog, while Maomao.

Well, Maomao looked all too knowing.

"Well, you look rough!" Lihaku called down with a grin, "Glad to see you're not dead."

"As am I!" You huff out a laugh, then look to Maomao. "Hello, Xiaomao!"

"Hello." Maomao said flatly, she looked lower and her face screwed up distastefully. "Is Jinshi-sama okay?"

Lihaku then he spots his dog and slightly pales, letting out a sharp whistle. "C'mon, boy!"

The dog eagerly jumps off Jinshi, going to sit by your head and wag his tail. The man above you sighs in relief, pushing up off you. He sits up and you try not to focus on the bright blush on his face.

"Why did he do that?" The royal asks.

"Must've thought something was wrong." Lihaku rubs the back of his neck, frowning down at you both. "What... exactly where you two doing?"

You and Jinshi glance at one another, furious blushes flushing over you both. Despite anything that Jinshi said, there were things that you weren't allowed to do. Rules and laws that forbid something like this form happening the public eye. For a man like himself from being with a woman like you. A servant with a beautiful prince.

Protecting him was the priority.

"Nothing!" You shout back, ignoring the eyebrow raise that garnered from both Jinshi and Maomao.

Everything was better left alone. A secret between the both of you. To cherish and hold for however long it may need. You could deal with the anger and longing later.

#✩࿐ t writes #jinshi x reader #apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries x reader #jinshi #jinshi x y/n #jinshi x you #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto x reader #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto #request #anon

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tcubunny · 4 months

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switch!tzuyu x switch!fem!reader - “trying our best” (warnings: smut, praise, breast play, scissoring, clit stimulation, oral)

a/n: thank u to my pookie @soyeonsbabygirl for proof reading 🤗 first time writing for tzuyu, kinda nervy. i’ve had this idea in my head from the second i thought up this au. small issue that we’re going to fix with our imagination, as always: let’s pretend jyp is strict on hotel rooms and if the company placed/booked/whatever-the-balls two specific members in a room, they HAVE to the be ones who share it🙏idk if i’m lying ab the switch tags bc i think that’s what’s happening, but idk tbh. maybe if i feel generous in the future ill write a fic about how her and the reader ended up getting caught and what their punishment was. for now, much love and enjoy pookabutts😘

word count: 1.8k

“goodnight you two, don’t do anything you know you’re not supposed to.”

jeongyeon warns and gives you and tzuyu a kiss before walking to the door and shutting it behind her.

you and tzuyu are the best girls for your unnies, you never get in trouble. your notoriously great behavior has fully merited their trust, yet letting you two share a hotel room still seemed risky. everyone insisted that being alone with each other would be too tempting, but there was nothing they could do about it.

you both promised—specifically to jihyo that you would sleep on separate beds, and wouldn’t try anything, and you plan to follow through on that promise.

“are you tired?” tzuyu’s voice bellows throughout the room. “i guess.” you get up and lock the door before walking to the other bed. “well, goodnight.” tzuyu turns off her bedside lamp and lays down, draping the covers over herself.

“goodnight.” you do the same as her and get comfortable. you close your eyes, trying your best to clear your head, but you’re far too hyper-aware of the fact that she’s right next to you. you really wouldn’t dare disobey the others, but it’s all you can think about.

the minutes rush by and you still can’t manage to fall asleep, completely immersed in your less than holy thoughts about tzuyu. you toss and turn, but nothing works.

“y/n, are you asleep?” you hear a murmur in the dark and turn to face tzuyu’s bed. “no.” there’s a few seconds of awkward silence before tzuyu speaks up again.

“i know we said we wouldn’t, but do you want to sleep with me? i just feel so isolated.” you think about it for a second, you desperately want to say yes, but you know you can’t. “tzuyu…”

“please, they won’t find out. the door is locked and they have no other way of checking on us.” she is correct, there’s no way they can find out unless they enter the room, which they can’t do if the door is locked. and you always lock the door when you’re in a hotel; it wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“okay…” you get up and walk to her bed, hesitantly joining her under the covers. you turn away from her, too scared that you won’t be able to control yourself if you face her. you both say goodnight again and the deafening silence returns.

falling asleep is significantly more difficult now that tzuyu is right next to you. you can feel the warmth emanating off her body and you want nothing more than to turn around and kiss her. you can also feel your own warmth stretching from your flustered cheeks to your aching core.

“i can’t sleep.” you’re jolted out of your trance of sorts by tzuyu turning on the light. you turn to look at her and she sits up against the headboard, so you do the same. “me neither.” you reply, trying to hide your reddened face.

“i’m bored.” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “me too.” you look around the room, trying to think of something else to continue the conversation. “you think the others are asleep?” she exhales before answering. “let’s think critically here, none of them can keep their hands off each other.” you look down at the floor. “yeah…”

you both sit without saying anything. having her so close but not being able to touch her how you want is absolute torture. you bite down on your thumb as a weak attempt to distract yourself, but it doesn’t work in the slightest.

you look over at her, head tossed back on the bed frame, eyes closed, and arms inside her shirt. you’ve never been one to make impulsive decisions, but your desire for her completely takes over.

“tzuyu…” you call out, inching closer to her. “wha-“

you crash your lips into hers, cutting off her sentence. the kiss is slow and sends heatwaves straight to your core. her lips feel amazing, you swear you’ll never be able to separate from them. you let your tongue wander inside her mouth and she gladly takes it in. you entangle it with hers, lifting your hand to cup her face.

she pulls away and you whine in frustration. “we can’t.” her actions greatly differ from her words; she tugs the collar of your shirt towards her and continues kissing you.

“why not?” you repeat the pattern of pulling away and going right back to the heated kiss every time either of you speaks. “we promised.” “they won’t find out,” you pause your sentence to keep tasting her “like you said, the door is locked.”

it appears you’ve fully convinced her as she pulls you closer and makes you straddle her. you let your hands get lost in her hair as she grabs your face.

you can already feel a pool of slick collecting on your underwear while you’re squirming on her lap. the air in the room suddenly feels hot and your clothes start feeling like a burden.

“take off your clothes.” you instruct, getting up to do the same. you toss your things to the side, not caring where it lands. you watch as tzuyu rips everything off and crawls to the edge of the bed to sit.

you admire her body with a smirk before pushing her down and getting on top of her. the truth is, neither of you has any experience with being in control, but you’ll have to make do.

“you’re so pretty.” you whisper in her ear, moving your mouth down to her neck. “you’re so pretty.” you kiss her chest, making sure not to leave any new marks that the others could notice.

you gradually move lower until you reach her tits. you take one of the into your mouth and she lets out a loud moan. you slap your hand over her mouth to shush her.

“nayeon and jeongyeon are right beside us, do you really want them to hear?” you take your hand off and she brings her own hand to her mouth, urging you to keep going.

your mouth goes back to her tit, sucking and biting it gently. her choked moans make your pussy drip, you can’t wait any longer. you replace your mouth with your hand and tap on her thigh. “can you spread your legs?” “mhm.”

she does so and you swing one of your own legs over one of hers so that your pussy is directly aligned with hers.

you look into her eyes waiting for approval to go on, but she just pushes your hips down instead, making your soaked cunt collide with hers. you almost scream out from the feeling, but bite down on your finger to stop yourself.

you gyrate your hips, twitching slightly every time your clits touch. “you’re so fucking hot.” tzuyu coos from beneath you and pulls you down to her lips. you moan and whine into her mouth, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

you no longer care in the slightest about how many rules you’re breaking, the only thing on your mind is how amazing tzuyu sounds.

“you feel so good, tzu.” your sentence comes out hurried and broken, the feeling of tzuyu’s pussy on yours messing with your senses. “hm, thank you.” an inebriating smile adorns her lips as she responds. one of her hands remains placed on your hip, pushing you down against herself. you lean back, resting your weight on your hands as you brush your hair back.

“faster.” she hums while digging her nails into your skin. you whine at the feeling and speed up, making tzuyu reflexively thrust her hips up.

“shit, don’t stop.” her back arches as she pleads with you. “i wouldn’t do that to us both.” you giggle and bend down to meet her lips.

you can feel your muscles beginning to contract and hold onto tzuyu’s hand against the mattress.

“i’m so close.” you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut. “hm—me too.” hearing her weak whimper is all you need to reach your climax. you fiercely hold tzuyu’s hand as your hips shake, silencing your moans with her lips. you don’t stop until you see her body tense and she lets out a string of profanities with her orgasm.

when she completely finishes, you let yourself fall down on her chest, completely slumped. you both lay there panting without moving until your heart rates settle and you regain your composures.

“you’re incredible.” she traces your lips with her fingers and you look up at her. “i pay attention.” she laughs at you, pushing you off of her to get on top of you.

“it’s my turn to show you how well i pay attention.”

your eyes widen at her remark, you didn’t think she could sound any hotter, but somehow she does. she kisses down your neck, going past your chest and all the way to your stomach. she plants a kiss right above your core and your hips jerk forward.

she stands up and pats down the edge of the bed for you to sit. she then kneels in front of you, opening your legs with her hands. you can feel the slick pouring out of you, she looks absolutely ravishing on her knees for you.

she kisses your thighs as you stroke her hair with a smile on your face, completely drowning in how beautiful she looks.

she looks up at you and dips her tongue between your folds, already earning desperate moans from you. her tongue moves with great agility, sucking your clit and pushing into your entrance every time she passes it.

you give her feedback in the form of hushed whines and whimpers, still very aware of the people on the other side of the wall.

“does that feel good?" she asks in a sweet, innocent voice, the contrast between her actions and her inflection adding to your arousal.

you whine and arch your back slightly, pushing tzuyu’s face further into you. she chuckles as she lets go of your clit with an audible ‘pop.’

“y/n, answer my question.” she begs with the same tone and you look down at her, a dangerous glint painted on her eyes.

“hm,” your attempt at answering comes out as a moan and your cheeks redden as you feel tzuyu’s laugh against your pussy.

"i think,” you whimper into your own hand as she pushes her fingers inside you. “i think you can tell, ah fuck.” she mercilessly pumps her fingers in and out of you while her lips wrap around your clit.

it doesn’t take long for the edges of your vision to glow white, you orgasm hitting you without warning. you grab a fistful of tzuyu’s hair, holding her in place. she eagerly swallows every bit of sticky white fluid pooling out of you, allowing you to fully come back from your high.

you let go of her hair when you realize how hard you were holding onto it and she stands up. “i think i won.” she teases, coming closer to sit on your lap.

“oh, it was a competition? in that case, i think i’d like a rematch.”

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wutheringcaterpillar · 2 months

Note

Would you please do a stepbro! Tommy smut with a piss kink? Maybe he makes reader hold it?

Summary: Your step brother finds you out stumbling drunk, there’s only one thing that must be done for you to learn.

warnings: watersports, piss kink, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, mentions of intoxication, humiliation, degradation, stepcest

Everyone knew Tommy was close with you, always around one another, joking around, sometimes playing games that step siblings shouldn’t be playing.

You hadn’t been home since breakfast and though you were well old enough not to have a curfew, Tommy still demanded to know where you were, who you were with and that you’d be home before dark.

Yet here he was driving down the street in the piss pouring rain looking for his step sister whom he may or may not have a sick, twisted, far too loving relationship with.

Stumbling off through the dark alley giggling with your friends, a car pulled up by the sidewalk that you knew all too well to be your step brother Tommy.

Bidding you goodbye, your friends scattered off, frightened of him, while the brick wall you were now leaning against was the only thing keeping you up on your feet.

Tommy stepped out of the car the rain pouring down onto his head as he slammed the door shut in anger, walking toward you with vigours, thunderous steps.

“I’ve been looking for you all night, and you’ve been out getting drunk at me fooking pub?” Making a sly goofy smile, Tommy rolled his eyes shoving you in the car before driving off back to the house.

The liqour was creating a sense of sexual urgency, and need to be fucked. Yet unlike all other days Tommy disregarded your longing stares and seductive touches, instead leading you into his office, forcing you down on a chair demanding you not move.

“Since you love drinking so much, why don’t we see just how much you can withstand.” Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, Tommy returned, his heated gaze never swaying from your hazy eyes.

“Drink up, love.” He eyed you from the opposite side of his desk, pushing the tremendously full glass of water toward you.

Eyeing him nervously, you did as he said, allowing the cool liquid to drench your dry throat, relinquishing the headache almost immediately.

His ocean eyes impended directly on you, focusing on the discomfort you attempted to hide.

“You will hold it until I say so.” Whimpering, he stood from his chair, massaging your shoulders, his plush lips dusting against your ear.

“Maybe you’ll learn your lesson next time, eh love?”

You just hadn’t realized how far Tommy would go for a punishment.

Throughout the day he consistently ignored your begging to use the restroom. Instead refilling the glass with each complaint you gave him.

It wasn’t until five glasses in that you realized he wasn’t just messing around, he wanted to see you suffer immensely.

When Ada arrived home, she has voiced concern that you might be ill. Playing it off, you mentioned that your sleep cycle had been inconsistent, relying on the blatant lie of being drowsy and irritable while Tommy simply smirked in the corner, attempting not to laugh as he sipped his tea.

“Well, perhaps a movie will help you sleep.” Nodding, Ada removed her coat, recalling that history movies were a dull interest to you, and ran outside to get the post to see what would be playing on the television tonight.

Once she was out of sight, Tommy abruptly appeared behind your back, purposefully pulling you back against him, arms squeezing tightly around your lower abdomen.

Whining, your head fell back against his chest as his hand glided beneath your skirt, rubbing your aching heat.

This wasn’t fair, he didn’t hold Ada to these standards even though she was older. She’s never had a “curfew”, why should you be any different?

“How’s my little lamb holding in there? Gonna piss yourself right here in the kitchen?” The water slowly dripping from the sink faucet has your eyes drawn in as Tommy continued to massage your mound, the rain pattering against the window outside.

The dripping sounds and the stimulation, causing your mind to spin in a million different directions.

“Such a sensitive little thing aren’t you? Just imagining the moment of releasing the flood gates, draining yourself, completely?” Tugging away from him once the door opened, Ada motioned that your brothers and Aunt Pol wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, but the good news was she had found a movie, only it was three hours.

After eating dinner, the living area was set up with blankets and pillows along with simple snacks.

You were currently seated in the middle of the sofa, Tommy beside you of course while Ada was in the recliner to the side.

As a obnoxiously loud scene came on, you took the time to address your brother.

“Tommy, please! I’m going to burst at the seams!” You pleaded, and begged to him, wishing to just dispel the extreme un comfort of your bladder holding the max capacity of piss.

He simply chuckled, shaking his head in disapproval, enjoying how desperate you sounded.

Your eyebrows creased together when his hand guided toward your lower abdomen underneath the blanket, pressing firmly onto the bloated, hardened skin, causing you to squeam in slight pain and discomfort of his actions.

Glancing around the room, Ada was still awake fully indulged in the movie.

Shit, you were going to have to play normal for longer than you already have.

Shivering Ada stood up from her seat, complaining of how cold it was in the house even with the fire lit.

When she mentioned hot chocolate, Tommy’s eyes lit up with mischief and pure diabolical intentions.

“Y’know Y/N was just complaining of the same thing, do you mind making us one too?”

Oh how you wanted to smack him in the back of his demented head, and rush to the toilet.

Every other minute Tommy was shifting, in his seat. How long was this movie? You wouldn’t be surprised had he picked on nearly three hours. But you could play this game better.

As the film continued on about an hour later Tommy’s eyes were becoming heavy, his slight minuscule snores just barely audible.

Taking the opportunity at large, you were careful standing up from the sofa, hesitant not to wake him before walking off toward the upstairs bathroom. Only thing was this was an old house with creaking floors. The night time shade made it hard to see where you were stepping, and then it happened.

The first creak and Tommy was awakened, turning his head to catch you red handed.

Glancing over, Ada was asleep and luckly for him she was a heavy sleeper.

Terror seeped over your eyes as Tommy stood from the catch, walking over and grabbing your arm, forcing you to his room.

“Did you think I wouldn’t hear?” Barging through the door, you shed one another of your clothes, eventually, falling down onto the mattress. Tommy towered over your aching body, noticing how bloaded your bladder appeared, and how hard your nipples were even in the warm air.

You couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment from the fact that being degraded and controlled in such a way turned you on.

Pressing firmly down onto your skin, he smirked watching you squeal and squirm beneath him in desperation, while his hardened cock slid in an up and down motion between your moist folds.

“Tommy I- I can’t. Please let me go first!” He shook his head, plunging his length in your heated flower. The over filling sensation, causing extreme discomfort with a hint of pleasure.

“Maybe you should learn to listen to your big brother every now and then eh?” Your lips parted agape when he began to drill into your body, the head of his cock feeling like it was hitting your bladder with each thrust.

Surely he didn’t expect you to hold your piss through this.

“I-I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be home on time from now on.” His hands grasped at your boobs, feeling them bounce with each rhythmic thrust.

It was almost pathetic how soaked you were, how your pussy clung to his long length in desperation.

When he flipped you over onto your stomach, that was when the inevitable was about to happen.

“Tommy-Tommy I’m gonna- I can’t-“

“You can release now love.” As soon as he gave you permission, all of the piss inside your aching bladder pooled out onto the sheets around his cock. The relieving sensation was almost too satisfying to recognize the humiliating situation that didn’t seem to phase Tommy at all as he continued to fuck you relentlessly. The piss warming his cock like a popsicle melting from the hot sun on a warm summer day.

The white sheets now stained yellow beneath your sex, your cheeks burning red in embarrassment.

It wasn’t long until Tommy released his seed inside of your dripping hole, the overwhelming heat of your pussy and piss sending a tidal wave of pleasure through his veins as his toes curled with one last strong, powerful thrust as he rode out his orgasm.

“So tell me? Did you learn something useful today?”

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #ranaewrites #requested

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royaltozaki · 1 month

Text

everyone’s girlfriend but mine

bachelorette series - part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4 • part 5

a/n: okay so first ever fic and i had no idea where i was going w it til the end so this ended up just being sort of a trailer ig and ill maybe try continue

“We have plenty of time darling, don’t stress.” Sana places the finishing brush of her lipstick gently across her slight pout. She frowns at you in the mirror as you fiddle with the silk of your evening gown, “The driver will be here in 10 minutes and look!” She twirls around and does a cute little flourish with her dress, “I’m already done so I’m actually 10 minutes early.”

You can’t help but smile at the gesture and then you remember what you were talking about. “That’s not what I meant and you know it Sana.” You return your gaze to your hands, fingers prettily painted a light shade of blue to match your dress for the night.

She sighs and walks forward, slipping her fingers between yours and interlocking them, stopping your fiddling. Everything about her is soft. The way her skin feels after she’s finished her morning stretches, the way her eyes look at you when you’re up late talking about everything and nothing, the way she’s sliding into your lap now and lifting your face gently with her hands. You’re avoiding her gaze as much as you can, eyes darting all over the room, anywhere but her pretty, pretty face.

But she grips a little harder and settles her forehead against yours, breaths mingling, noses touching.

“Baby… look at me.” Her voice is hushed against your lips, and god you’re only so strong. You meet those soft eyes you’ve fallen in love with.

“There we go.” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You can see it can’t you? Us, together in the perfect little villa only a few minutes drive from the big city, maybe a kitten or two, definitely stinky morning kisses and tickle fights.” Your eyes close as she presses light, slow kisses all over your face. “That’s waiting for us angel. It’s not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” The last word is spoken right against your lips, and she seals the promise with a kiss as sweet as her.

The driver calling Sana’s phone interrupts you and you chase after her lips as she breaks away with a giggle, sliding off your lap and picking up her phone.

You sigh, pinching your nose as you gather your things preparing to go to the ball where they would be announcing exactly who won Minatozaki Sana’s heart on live television in this year’s Bachelorette rendition. For now, her promise clouded the fact that it wasn’t your name she would be reading out tonight.

#sana #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #sana imagines #twice #twice x reader #royaltozaki

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mochinomnoms · 3 months

Note

Hellooo

Congrats on your 1K!!!🎉🎉🎉

I discovered you blog recently and I am HOOKED, your writing is so tasty and fluid that I just keep going ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

I Hope you dont get too tired with requests, take breaks and drink water!!!

Ok for the actual ask, may I have a dialogue 19 with Eyedress, and if it were suggestive it would be perfect

Preferably Ruggie💞 you can choose the other 2 (If you even want to)

ruggie bucchi x gn!reader [tags] — suggestive, tiny bit of hurt but not really [wc} - 1, 025 prompt 19 “I try to find a reason to pull us apart"” song: Kiss Me Like It’s the First Time (Eyedress, “Let's Skip to the Wedding”) note - Ruggie canonically calls you a puppy. take that with what you will. francesca (1k event)

“Kiss me like it's the last time/ You'll fall in love / I always want your love”

Ruggie knows that compared to everyone else on campus, he was the bottom of the barrel. He wasn’t a prince, an heir to a fortune, or even from a well-off family. Sure, his Grandma was a wonderful lady, maybe a bit strict growing up, but besides her and their home, Ruggie didn’t have much to offer. Maybe if you weren’t in such a bad spot, if you had a good family here, if you hadn’t been plucked from your world with nothing but the clothes on your back, he’d be happy to call you his own.

But he can’t. How can he when you have people willing to drop thousands of thaumarks on you like it’s nothing. Literally! He was listening to Kalim run his mouth as he talked about renovating Ramshackle to your preference.

“Oh! And we can get you quartz countertops! What kind of colors do you like, I can have it made to your favorite aesthetic! Ooh, what if we replaced all the appliances to match it? The kitchen back home has a gas stove built into the countertop, we can replace—”

“Uh, I’d need gas for that though, right?” You laughed, splayed across Ruggie as you two lay in your bed. Kalim was on video call with you, having gone back home for the weekend for some sort of event. You’d been complaining about one of your kitchen cabinets breaking and letting your few plates tumble out. Thank the Seven that they were plastic dishes.

Kalim being, well, Kalim, immediately went into a tangent about adding in a gas line to your dorm and adding this and that. Everyone was acutely aware that Kalim, as generous and kind as he was, was especially sweet on you. There were even some rumors that he had a crush on you, something that made Ruggie feel ill.

You just laughed off Kalim as he continued to whine about fixing up the dorm. You ended the call as you cheerfully told Kailm goodnight.

“Do whatever you want Kalim, I won’t complain about free renovations! Good night, say bye Rugs.”

“Hmm? Oh, bye Kalim.” Ruggie gave Kalim a small smile and wave, who returned it with a beaming grin.

After a few more words between you and Kalim, you finally ended the video call, tossing your phone to the night stand, and moving to straddle Ruggie’s hips.

“What’s wrong?”

Ruggie blinked up at you in confusion. “What?”

“What’s wrong? Your ears are flat, they only go flat when you’re upset.” Ruggie whimpered as you leaned down to flutter kisses down his throat, shuddering as you pressed your teeth against his Adam's apple.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? You jealous?”

“Mmh, no I’m just—aaaAAAaaaAhH!” Ruggie yelped as you dug your teeth into the nape of his neck, suckling until you were satisfied with the bruising red mark forming on his skin.

“Geez, give a guy a warning, won’t ya?” Ruggie let out a breathless chuckle, his chest rumbling as he purred from each kiss you pressed up your neck as you hovered over his lips. “You’re nothing but trouble, Puppy.”

“And yet, you love this trouble, don’t you?” The sound of your kissing, mixed with gasps and sighs from both of you echoed in the room.

“Now tell me,” Ruggie tried following your lips as you pulled away, but you kept him pinned to the bed. By now, you’d managed to throw his shirt across the room and traced your nails down Ruggie’s chest. “Why are you upset? Was it Kalim’s call? You know, he just likes to say hi sometimes.”

Ruggie pinned his ears flatter against his head, huffing as he looked to the side, though be traced his hands up and down your arms.

“Nothin’, it’s just that Kalim sure likes to spoil ya. You know?”

You hummed, waiting for him to keep going.

“I’m just saying, he’s really sweet on you. Maybe you should consider taking advantage and marrying the guy!” Ruggie laughed, though it sounded forced.

He stopped as you clicked your tongue, leaning back down to bite at his cheek.

“Hey! You know your teeth aren’t really sharp enough for that.” Ruggie chuckled as you stopped and pouted, looking up at him as you batted your eyelashes.

“Hmph, it’s like you just wanna get rid of me.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“That’s what it sounds like!” You argued, huffing into his neck as you pushed yourself against his chest and neck, like you were trying to mold yourself to him. “You always do this. If I didn’t want to be with you, I would’ve left already…”

Ruggie sighed, rubbing the skin between your shirt and bottoms with his thumbs. “I know, I know. I just think that you oughta take advantage. Kalim’s not the only one, and you’re all by yourself here! Get yourself a rich boyfriend, and you’re set for life!”

You suddenly grabbed the back of his head, pulling at his hair to make Ruggie expose his neck again. He whimpered at the rough touch, though his tail was wagging rapidly against the sheets.

“And why would I do that?” His hand slid under your shirt and up your spine. He gently scratched your back as you shuddered into his touch. “When I have such a lovely boyfriend?”

Lips molded against each other, teeth clashed, and hips rolled as Ruggie, once again, failed to push you away. Instead, as he slipped your shirt off and moved to give you your own love bites and hickeys, Ruggie moved to bring your bodies closer together. Ruggie let himself lose himself in you once again, and would continue to do so. Again and again, until he found another half-hearted excuse.

But for now?

You pulled away again, breathless and flushed. “I just want to spoil my hardworking hyena, won’t you let your Puppy do that?” The down right heady tone in your voice, in that low, soft whine, made him hot in all the right places. Ruggie nodded, giving you the okay to wreck him.

For now, he’ll indulge, shamelessly, in you. As long as you’ll continue to have him.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

#mochi asks #francesca (1k event)#twst #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst ruggie x reader #suggestive #strawberry-pie-thoughts

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riordanness · 6 months

Text

— say don’t go - [tmr!newt]

wordcount: 0.9K

warnings: uh- you have the flare

requested: no

We’d been running for… how long? It felt like forever. Days and days of scorching heat, oppressive sunlight, harsh winds. My throat feels dry all the time, my eyes ache, and my legs are rubber.

At least I have Newt. No one could ask for a better friend. He’s always there for me, right beside me no matter what. He gives me the water even though I know he must be just as thirsty as I am.

He makes sure he’s the one carrying the pack we’re supposed to be sharing; he’s always taking my turns.

How can I tell him I know I’m not immune? That the cranks scratched me back in that old warehouse a few days ago? The weight of knowing my days are dissolving in front of my eyes is so heavy I can barely breathe. What should I do? What does anyone do, knowing you’re about to die?

I know I have to tell him soon. I can’t keep putting it off — it’s killing me in more ways than one.

Minho calls for a stop hours after nightfall. I have lost complete track of time; too lazy to keep track with my wristwatch. My head is fuzzy enough as it is.

Newt glances at me, and gives me a weak smile. I try to return it, but I can’t. I collapse to the ground, my knees giving way after one too many hours of walking.

Newt is at my side in an instant. “Are you alright?”

I try to nod my head. “Just… tired. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He holds out our shared water bottle. There’s barely a gulp left in the bottom.

I shake my head. “You take it. I had it last.”

“No.” Newt is serious. “You need it more than I do. Besides…” He hesitates, but doesn’t continue. I’m too scared to ask what he means.

I eventually give it and take the water, the few semi-cold drops helping immensely. I feel my body shutting down, my eyes trying to close.

Newt shifts over to sit beside me. “Go to sleep, love.”

I don’t even try to stay awake. I lean against him and am instantly in darkness.

The next thing I know, I’m startled awake. I don’t know why, as it’s still pretty dark, the air is still cool, and none of the boys have stirred. I wonder briefly if a sound in the night woke me, but I see and hear nothing.

It’s probably just the growing anxiety and disease taking over my brain. I inch away from Newt, desperate not to wake him. He’s been doing so much for me, for everyone. I owe him my life ten times over, and I don’t want to disturb maybe the last peaceful sleep he may get.

I get to my feet, and my eyes stray to Newt’s sleeping face. I have a ridiculous urge to touch his cheek. He looks so soft and pretty and perfect, just laying there.

I force myself to turn around. I walk a minute, until I stumble across a little boulder and sit down, my chin in my hands. This illness inside of me is eating me up. I can feel myself fading away, everything that makes me me slowly dissolve into nothing.

I don’t know how long I sit there, despairing.

Eventually, someone approaches. I can tell by the slightly uneven footsteps who it is even before they speak.

“Hey, Newt.” I have no emotion in my voice, struggling to keep it even.

“Y/n,” he replies, gently sitting beside me. “What’s up, love?”

I shrug. “Nothin’.”

Even though it’s too dark to tell properly, I know he’s got his you-are-such-a-bad-liar face on. “Y/n.”

I sigh. “Okay. Fine. I—“ But the words die in my throat. I can’t seem to find the right way to tell the boy I love more than anything that I’m about to, well, die.

“You have the bloody Flare.” The anger in Newt’s voice takes me by surprise more than the fact that he knows.

“What—“

He slams his hand into the rock we’re sitting on, cutting me off. “It’s not fair!” He hisses. “We have to fix this, we have to—I cant, lose you—“

His voice cracks, and I hear him inhale sharply, like he’s trying not to cry.

That makes me break down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I sob. “I just—I didn’t want… I don’t know. I just don’t want this.”

“Nobody shuckin’ wants the Flare, Y/n.” Newt’s voice is gruff, but almost teasing, a little reminder of what we used to be together. Joking, teasing best friends.

That makes me break down completely, and I cry heartbrokenly into my hands. I feel Newt wrap his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I cry into him, clinging to his shirt like it’s my life.

“Newt,” I manage. “I’m going to die.”

“No you’re not.” His tone is firm. “I’m not gonna lose you. I—I love you, ya dumb shank.”

“What…?” My tears come to a hiccuping stop, and I lift my head to look at him. “You…”

He lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad timing?”

I shake my head, a smile on my face despite it all. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Oh,” Newt laughs. “Oh, okay. Good.”

I lean towards him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Just hold me, please? Help me forget for a while.”

And Newt does exactly that.

#newt #newt x reader #tmr #maze runner #the maze runner #maze runner fanfiction #newt x reader fanfic #tmr fanfic #thomas brodie sangster #tmr newt #newt maze runner

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merbear25 · 3 months

Text

Heartbreaker

The one who's claimed your heart doesn't have the most prestine reputation, especially when it comes to love. Yet you've been entraced by them and are now faced with the mine field of a situationship.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, toxic situations, suggestive in Kid's

Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kid

Zoro: You weren't the only one who had taken interest in the swordsman. He remained unaware of the broken hearts trailing behind him, and unfortunately, he'd always been too focused on his personal goals to see that yours was about to join them.

Stood at the ajarred door, you were debating on whether or not to approach him; he had just started a new set in his workout routine and you pondered that it might be better to bring the topic up at a later time.

"What is it?" He questioned between reps.

"I-It's nothing," you blurted out.

The flush on your face was growing deeper with each passing moment, drawing him in fully. "What's with that face then?" smirking at the mess you were clearly unraveling into.

"It's just that... What I want to say is...," you took a deep breath to help steady your nerves. "I like you. More than a friend, I mean." The throbbing in your chest was relentless as you stood there waiting for an answer. The sped up beats ricocheting throughout your chest were now twinging into heartache.

He wasn't saying anything. He was just standing there, not saying anything!

Humiliation casted itself over you and the sensation of tears teased you the longer you stood there waiting for a response.

"I don't really know what to say to that, honestly." There wasn't reassurance in his voice. In fact, he seemed genuinely shocked by your confession.

"It's okay that you don't feel the same."

Thinking it over, he mentioned, "I don't really know how I feel about you. Never took much notice in that kind of stuff."

Picking at the loose thread on your sleeve, you suggested, "Well, would you be opposed to exploring those thoughts more?"

"Maybe not," his smirk returned to his lips, "just don't expect to be swept off your feet or anything."

Sanji: Flight of fancy was more than fitting for this man's fantasies of love. Not just one ever fully captured his gaze, which was always wandering from what you gathered from him. In spite of all this, you couldn't help falling for him. At the end of the day, he was always there for you when you needed him—reliable. Oh, how you loved and hated that about him.

You watched from a distance as he skillfully maneuvered his way around the kitchen, never once misjudging the measurements for whatever he was preparing. However, the cloud of admiration engulfing you was slowly turning to one of sulk—not allowing your heart to love him freely.

When he glanced over at you, you adverted your eyes, regretting having stared at him for as long as you did. In your peripheral, you saw the blonde sauntering over to you.

"Hello, my dear! Would you like to be the first to taste my chocolate mousse?" Offering you a spoon, his innocent gesture was weighing on you.

Plopping the spoon in your mouth, you would never be able to lie about how delightful his cooking abilities were.

Beaming at you, he added, "Nothing but the best for my best."

In your heart of hearts you knew this was anything but ill-intentioned, but you winced from his frilled words.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't think I can do this anymore."

The gleam in his eyes disappeared, "What do you mean exactly?"

Shaking your head at him, you continued, "This! I like you, okay? And I can't keep pretending that I'm fine with you forgetting about me the second someone else catches your eyes."

He took you by the hand, not saying anything yet, and let you continue pouring your heart out, "It hurts that you don't even seem to realize how much it affects me."

"Could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?" Before you could interrupt him, he placed a firm kiss on the top of your hand. "Of course, I adore you most of all. So, would you be willing to let me start over?"

"Just...don't throw me aside anymore."

"You'll be my one and only. Promise."

Law: You'd think living in the same proximity with others would give you a better, clearer understanding of them; that was not the case when it came to him. Each time you thought you were getting somewhere with him, he'd push you away, which made you feel like the distance between you was only becoming more unsalvageable.

There had been quite a few times you got a chuckle out of him or a smile, but as time trudged on, your comments seemed to be making him more and more irritated. You began second guessing all of your interactions with him. Before speaking on what seemed like every topic, you ran through possible outcomes. You were so desperate to regain the friendship that you thought you were losing.

"Did I do something wrong?" The question left your mouth without even giving you the chance to stop yourself.

"Are you seriously bringing this up now?"

True, in an ideal world, this would not have been the best time to open this can of worms, but there hardly ever is a 'right time' to talk over issues.

You pressed on, "If I did something wrong, I'd rather you just tell me. At least that way I can be made aware of it and have a chance to change things."

Giving you an exasperated stare and sigh, he told you, "You didn't do anything. Just drop it." Even though he was physically turning his back to you in hopes of signaling his disinterest, it went unnoticed.

"Then, why is it so hard to talk to you now? It wasn't that long ago that we were able to hold a decent conversation. Now, you won't even acknowledge me half the time."

Swiveling around to face you, he shouted, "Because you're everywhere! Always around the corner and always needing to say something."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to talk to you! Damn, I don't even know why I like you!"

The anger he was holding swiftly shifted into bewilderment as the only response he had to that was to blink at you.

Once what you'd said sank in, you went crimson, "I don't know why I said that."

"So, you're going to take it back?" Straightening his posture and smirking he teased, "Didn't pin you as a coward."

"And what if I am taking it back?"

The room went cold while his eyes burrowed into yours. He marched towards you with tenacity, securing you in a firm kiss. "Then I guess you're going to cause me more headaches."

Kid: Being in a serious relationship wasn't exactly your style, but luckily for you, it wasn't his either. Late night meetups to satisfy your cravings were exhilarating. The steamy exchanges would imprint themselves on you, giving you plenty to recall whenever he wasn't available. However, on one of the nights you were left to fend for yourself, your mind strayed—you found yourself wondering if he was with anyone else.

The memory of the two of you agreeing that this was never going to be anything more than physical ate away at you, eroding any sense of what you thought you wanted.

Dread seeped in further expanding the uncertainty. Looking over at your nightstand, you wondered if his thoughts were ever filled with memories with you. You started hoping that the question of what you were up to ever popped into his head; you feared it didn't though.

Against your better judgement, you reached over to call him. Doubt ran rampent in you, leading you to think you should hang up before he answers in order to avoid any embarrassment.

"What?" crackled through from the other side.

Freezing mid air from ending the call, you hesitantly asked, "How are you?"

"What?"

"Just wanted to know...how you are?"

You heard a tapping on his end, "Fine."

Swallowing the humiliation you were bringing on yourself, you perservered. "Can you come over tonight?" The silence that followed was deafening. "If you have time, I mean."

A curt answer, "I can't," followed. "If you have something to say, then just say it already."

You knew you had to rip the band-aid off. "I don't know if I want to keep doing this anymore," steadying yourself you carried on, "I'm interested in getting to know you outside of our late nights together."

"Already told you I'm not looking for a relationship," the static from the connection prickled at your skin.

"I know...I'm not even sure if that's what I necessarily want either. This whole thing's got me being pulled in every direction."

Huffing from the headache you were inevitably giving him, he reiterated, "I can't see myself changing my mind. If you want to keep what we've got going on fine, if not—whatever. Got it?"

"Yeah, got it," despite the disappointment in your voice, you still felt like giving him a proper, "Goodbye."

A low grunt of disapproval came from him, but he managed a, "Bye," before promptly hanging up.

You weren't sure what you were expecting from him; maybe you thought that deep down his feelings for you ran deeper than he'd showcased. Maybe you misjudged him entirely.

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magicfootballstuff · 1 year

Text

Debut (alessia russo x reader)

Summary: You’ve dreamed of making your WSL debut for years. But when the day finally arrives, it’s not how you imagined at all. The one person who should be celebrating the big moment with you, your girlfriend Alessia, won’t even look you in the eye.

———

Today should be the best day of your life. As you stand in the tunnel at Leigh Sports Village behind Katie, about to walk onto the pitch to make your Women’s Super League debut, you should be brimming with mixed excitement and nerves.

Your debut has come as a bit of a surprise. Playing as the number two to the best goalkeeper in the world, you’ve got a couple of cup games under your belt, but you’ve not yet been given any minutes in the league. In fact, today wasn’t even supposed to be your league debut, and wouldn’t have been if Mary hadn’t fallen ill at the last minute, forcing Marc to call you up to the starting lineup with just over an hour to go before kickoff.

Maybe that’s why the excitement hasn’t kicked in yet. Maybe you haven’t yet processed that this is happening.

Or maybe it’s because you had the mother of all arguments with your girlfriend last night and that’s playing on your mind instead.

You don’t even remember how the argument started. You might have left something lying around in a place it didn’t belong, or moved something of Alessia’s, or something else completely trivial, but bickering turned into fighting which turned into yelling and crying, which eventually led to Alessia storming out of your shared flat and not returning.

You assume she slept at Ella’s. You don’t care though. If Alessia wants to be childish and run away instead of working through the bumps in your relationship like grown-ups, then that’s her problem.

You should be celebrating today with her though. Your first league game for Manchester United - she knows how hard you work in training, how many hours you spend analysing world-class keepers to improve your own positioning, how much you’ve dreamed of today. Yet she hasn’t even made eye contact with you since Marc announced the starting lineup.

She’s behind you somewhere. You can hear her laughing along with Ella. Like she doesn’t care that she hurt you last night. Like she doesn’t care that you’re about to play the most important ninety minutes of your career so far.

If that’s how she wants it to be, then fuck her. You won’t let Alessia and her childish antics ruin your big day.

“You ready?” Ona’s accented voice asks, as she rests her hands encouragingly on your shoulders from behind.

In front of you, Katie turns around and gives you a reassuring smile, then says, “You’ve got this.”

You smile your thanks to Katie and briefly cover one of Ona’s hands with your own gloved one in appreciation. It should be Alessia supporting you right now, not them, but you’re glad that at least some of your teammates understand what a big moment this is and have your back.

As you follow Katie down the tunnel and onto the pitch, the reality of the situation starts to kick in, and so do the nerves. There’s a crowd of seven thousand people here, each one watching you and expecting you to represent their club. You can’t let them down. You can’t let yourself down.

In an ideal situation, you probably would’ve made your league debut against a mid-to-low table team, a confidence builder where making a mistake or two probably wouldn’t cost you the game. As it is, playing against Chelsea, you know you’re going to be tested all game and that even the tiniest slip-up could be the crucial difference between winning and losing not just the game, but the title.

Sure enough, you get your first touch of the ball less than two minutes after kick off, a tame shot from distance that you follow with your eyes all the way to you, not testing you too much as you catch it simply against your chest, before rolling it out to Maya to start the next phase of play.

It continues much like that. The game is intense at both ends of the pitch, two title rivals battling against each other, and you’re forced into a few more saves, though none of them are particularly difficult. Even so, when you head in at halftime goalless, it’s with a sense of relief that you haven’t let the team down yet.

You remove your gloves in the dressing room to take on fluids, accepting congratulations from a few of your teammates on a solid first half with a grateful smile. But when you sit down to listen to Marc’s halftime team talk, it’s only Alessia on your mind, and you zone out slightly from his words as you watch her across the dressing room.

If Alessia feels your gaze on her, then she doesn’t acknowledge it. Maybe she really is that engrossed in what Marc has to say, maybe she’s just trying to spite you. But what remains when you return to the pitch for the second half is that the one person you want to reassure you that you’re doing a good job still won’t even make eye contact with you.

The second half kicks off with heightened intensity, just as you expected. Manchester United get the first chance, a shot from Ella that ricochets off the crossbar before Leah taps the rebound wide, but Chelsea have come out with just as much intent to assert their dominance on the game. Within just five minutes, they’ve won a corner and almost all of the red shirts on the pitch are crowded into your box to help defend your goal.

The ball is launched from the corner into the box and it’s a bit of a mad scramble. A United player tries to clear but only as far as the edge of the box, where it lands at the feet of an unmarked Chelsea player. They take their chance and fire the ball through the crowd of players towards the bottom corner of your goal.

An instinctive reflex you’ve spent your entire life preparing for kicks in and you dive to the side, just barely glancing the ball past the goalpost with the tips of your fingers out for another corner.

Frustrated with the poor defending, you get to your feet as Chelsea set up for a second corner, and bellow at your teammates, “Mark your players!”

What they do on the rest of the pitch is something you have very little control over, but the box is your domain and if you have to shout at them to get them to do the bare minimum amount of defending, so be it. You assess your area as the Chelsea player sets the ball down by the corner flag, and you spot a blue shirt unmarked near the back post.

“Alessia!” you bark at your girlfriend to get her attention. Her stunning blue eyes find yours and your gesture with your gloved hand at the unmarked Chelsea player as you yell, “Stick with your fucking player!”

Yelling at each other on the pitch isn’t a complete novelty - there’s a mutual understanding between all the Manchester United players that any harsh words said on the pitch are for the benefit of the team, and though you and Alessia haven’t actually played many games together, you both know how to leave anything that happens on the pitch behind for the sake of your relationship.

Until today, you’ve never had to do the reverse. Though shouting and swearing at Alessia during a match would be fine on any other day, when you know it’ll be completely forgotten when the final whistle blows, your demand feels a hundred times more scathing when you remember the argument you had last night that still hasn’t been resolved.

There’s the briefest of glares in Alessia’s eyes, but she’s not petty enough to risk conceding a goal just because you’ve fallen out, so she does as instructed and moves closer to the other player, positioning herself between the Chelsea player and your goal.

The ball flies in and you launch yourself in the air, fist outstretched as you try to punch it away, but it’s too high and you miss it completely. As you tumble to the grass, you see the ball soar almost in slow motion towards the previously unmarked Chelsea player. It’s Sam Kerr and you know she’s going to score, you know that your chance of a clean sheet on your league debut is going to get snatched away by the most ruthless striker in the WSL.

But then you see somebody else, a hero in red, throw herself at the ball too. Alessia has spotted the danger and she uses her height to her advantage, her head hitting the ball at the same time as Kerr’s. It’s just enough to stop the ball heading towards the goal, and though you don’t know exactly what happens next as you scramble to your feet, too many bodies trying to nudge the ball in opposite directions, a Manchester United foot eventually gets a clean enough connection to smash the ball out of the box and away from immediate danger.

And just like there are things that stay on the pitch, there are things that stay at home.

“Good job, Less,” you praise her, clapping Alessia on the back with a gloved hand.

There’s stuff that needs resolving off the pitch later, but Alessia has just kept your hopes of a clean sheet alive and more than deserves your praise for that. Her eyes soften a little as you revert back to using her nickname, before she jogs away back to her normal position in United’s forward line.

Things are far from back to normal but there’s comfort in knowing that whatever has come between you and Alessia in the last twenty four hours - and to be honest, you’re struggling to remember if it was even worth the raised voices and the frosty atmosphere between you today - you can still count on her on the pitch when you need her. You mind somewhat at ease, at least until the final whistle blows and you’re free to actually talk to your girlfriend, you’re one hundred percent focused on the task of keeping a clean sheet to help your team.

But if you’d thought the back-to-back corners earlier in the second half were a problem, nothing could have prepared you for what happens in the eightieth minute.

It’s getting desperate from both sides. Legs are tiring, challenges are flying in, cards are being shown by the referee. The football is becoming sloppier, each team fighting for that singular moment of brilliance or luck that could win them the game. As United win a corner at the other end of the field, they send almost everybody up to get on the end of it, leaving just you and a singular defender in your own half. There are so many bodies in the opposition box that from your vantage point at the edge of your own area, you don’t have a clear view of what’s going on, but you watch as Katie sends the ball flying in. Desperation sets in as the United players try to knock it into the Chelsea goal, then somebody goes down and you hear cries for a penalty, but as the referee waves the claims away, a Chelsea player manages to send the ball forward and suddenly they’re on a break.

You backpedal towards your own goal, covering the net, but a feeling of dread rises in your stomach as the Chelsea player drives the ball forward. She’s a substitute who has only been on the pitch for ten minutes, fresh legs outrunning the final United defender and now you’re the only one left between her and an inevitable goal.

One-on-one with the Chelsea striker, you have just a split second to decide what to do. If you stay on your line, the player has a choice of which corner to slot it into. If you run towards her, you risk getting chipped or dribbled around. Part of being a keeper is making decisions but right now every choice feels like it might be the wrong one that costs your team the game.

Instinct takes over and you leave your line, arms held out as you rush towards the oncoming striker and try to be as much of a distraction as possible. As you get closer, you do the only thing you can and slide in for the ball, trying to smother it with your outstretched gloves.

But this is Chelsea and the striker anticipates your move, attempting to lift the ball over your grounded body. Your defenders are rushing back to help you but they’re too late, you’re the only one who can stop an otherwise inevitable goal and as you flail almost helplessly on the ground, the ball hits your forearm and changes course.

You don’t know where the ball has gone and you don’t get the chance to find out because the momentum of the Chelsea striker sends her clattering into you, a knee connecting with your ribs and she trips over you and falls to the floor too.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with pain. You know you should be more concerned with where the ball has gone - it’s your sole duty to stop it from hitting the back of the net and it could have gone anywhere off your arm - but there’s an excruciating pain in the side of your chest where you collided with your opponent.

You can’t do anything except lie there on the grass, curled onto the side that isn’t splitting in half with pain. You’re not aware of much around you, just unintelligible voices and somebody rolling you onto your back. Everything is swimming, indistinct sounds and shapes, until one piece of familiarity cuts through the blur as a hand finds yours.

You let your eyes flicker open and there are three people crouching over you, but you only have eyes for the one dressed in red, Alessia frowning down at you in concern as she clutches your hand and brings you back to your surroundings.

“Hurts,” you manage to grunt out.

“Shh, it’s okay baby,” Alessia soothes you, squeezing your hand. “I’ve got you.”

“Where does it hurt?” asks one of the physios kneeling beside you.

“Here,” you say, attempting to gesture to the side of your chest, but even that small action incites a sharp pang of pain.

The two physios start their examination of you, probing gently around the painful area, and as you become more aware of your surroundings, you remember that you’re lying in the middle of a football pitch, with twenty-one other players, a referee, and a crowd of several thousand waiting for you to get up so that the game can resume.

“Did they score?” you ask Alessia.

“No,” she tells you, shaking her head with a little smile. “You stopped it from happening. You did so good.”

“I can carry on,” you try to tell the physios. “There’s only ten minutes left. I can finish the game.”

Just as you say that, the latex glove covered fingers of the physio traces along your ribcage, and you wince as it grazes over a sore spot.

“She needs to come off,” the physio tells Alessia, before beckoning over to the bench. You see the medics start to enter the pitch with a stretcher and immediately start your protests.

“No, I’m fine,” you say, trying to push yourself up into a seated position, but there’s another stab of pain in your side and you collapse back into the grass, crushing Alessia’s hand in yours.

“You’re not fine,” Alessia tells you. “They’re right, you need to go off.”

“But…” you start, thinking of Mary, who was sent home to get better, and of the academy goalkeeper who will have to come on if you get subbed off with even less preparation than you had.

“But nothing,” Alessia interjects. “You’ve done your job. You’ve kept us in this game for eighty minutes. Trust us to take care of the rest. We’re a team, aren’t we?”

There’s a look in Alessia’s eyes, a searching glint, and you know that she’s not just talking about Manchester United and the rest of this game, but your relationship. She’s asking you to trust her, promising that she’s got your back, even if it might have seemed like she didn’t have it earlier.

And because you love her, despite all the profanities that were yelled at each other last night, you believe her.

“Yeah,” you nod, as you allow the medics to help you onto the stretcher. “We’re a team.”

———

You’re sitting up in a hospital bed a couple of hours later, eating a yoghurt that one of the nurses brought for you, when there’s a soft knock on the door.

It’s Alessia, still dressed in her Manchester United training kit that she must have changed into after the game, and you nod to show her that she’s welcome to come in.

“Hi baby,” she says, still lingering in the doorway, with a softness to her voice like you didn’t fight last night, like you haven’t spent the whole day not talking to each other. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” you admit, finishing the last spoonful of yoghurt and setting aside the now empty pot. “Two fractured ribs. No football for a few weeks, maybe longer, depending on how it heals.”

“I guess you’re gonna need someone to look after you at home,” Alessia jokes.

There’s still something not quite right, a wedge of awkwardness between you, and you know it’s time to settle the disagreement that has made the last twenty four hours pure hell instead of the league debut you’d always dreamed of.

“Does that mean you’re coming home again?” you ask.

Alessia laughs as if the question is ridiculous.

“Of course I’m coming home.”

“Because I’m injured and you feel sorry for me, or because you actually want to?” you can’t help but have a little jab.

“I want to,” Alessia says, fully stepping into the room and taking a seat in the chair beside your bed. She reaches for your hand and you let her toy with your fingers as she continues, “I hate how we left things last night.”

“How you left things,” you remind her. “You’re the one who left.”

“And I’m sorry for that,” Alessia apologises, and you can see the sincerity in her blue eyes. “I needed some space so I ran away, which was stupid and childish of me. And I was still fuming this morning so I decided it was best to leave it and talk after the match, but then you got called into the lineup and we still hadn’t fixed things and then you were just lying there injured and barely moving and I’ve never felt so helpless. If I could take away all the pain you’ve felt in the last twenty four hours, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You know that Alessia’s not just talking about the physical pain of your injury, but the hurt that she caused you in your fight and its aftermath too.

If you’re being fair, you probably hurt her too. You both said things that you wouldn’t normally say in last night’s argument.

“I’m sorry too,” you say, flipping your hand palm up and letting Alessia slide her fingers in between your own. “I think we both got caught in the heat of the moment. What were we even fighting about?”

Alessia laughs as she exhales, then says, “I don’t even remember. Something stupid. Something not worth me running away. I don’t want to fight with you again.”

“Look, we’re gonna fight,” you point out. “That’s part of being in a relationship. It’s not going to be easy all the time. But we can definitely be better at communicating.”

“I know,” Alessia nods. “That’s on me. I’ll try to work on it.”

“It’s on both of us,” you reassure her. “But thank you.”

A third person enters the room and you glance up to see one of the nurses who has been looking after you, middle-aged with a kind smile and a lilting Scottish accent.

“You must be the girlfriend,” says the nurse, addressing Alessia as she takes a piece of paper out of the file she brought with her into the room and jots something down.

“That’s right.”

“Then I’ll tell you the same thing I told her,” the nurse continues, her tone motherly but with just a hint of sternness. “She needs to take it easy while her ribs heal. No physical activity.” She gives Alessia a pointed look, then adds, “Of any kind.”

Alessia’s cheeks flush slightly at the implication, but she nods and says, “I understand.”

“Make up sex is off the cards then,” you joke under your breath.

You’re clearly not quiet enough because it’s not just Alessia who hears you, but the nurse too, who sends you a look of warning that has you sinking back into your pillows in shame.

“I’ve had enough athletes come through these doors to know exactly what you lot are like. I know you hate sitting still but you need to heal.”

“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Alessia promises the nurse. She turns to you, then adds, “Anyway, the better you follow the nurse’s instructions, the sooner you’ll be back playing football.”

“Exactly,” the nurse agrees.

“Did she tell you that she kept a clean sheet today?” Alessia asks the nurse, a hint of pride in her voice.

“She did, aye. Almost makes a couple of fractured ribs worth it, doesn’t it?”

“Well, Alessia scored the winning goal, so she’s the real hero of the day,” you shrug modestly.

One of the first things you did while waiting to have your ribs x-rayed was to check the score to see how the last ten minutes of the game panned out. Your main concern, of course, had been the clean sheet that you put your body on the line to preserve, and you were relieved to see that the academy keeper who took your place didn’t let any goals past her either. But you’d almost given up hope that United would score, which made it a delightful surprise that of all people, Alessia was the one to slot a winning goal into the Chelsea net in the eighty-seventh minute.

“It sounds like you can both share the credit today,” the nurse says diplomatically, as she clears away your empty yoghurt pot. “A good partnership in more ways than one.”

You look at your hand joined with Alessia’s, then up at the adoring look in her blue eyes.

“Yeah,” you agree. “The best.”

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #established relationship

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