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sushijimaaa · 27 days ago

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Tugs & Texts

Barou Shouei x FemReader

With how you’d both met at twelve and how you promised to make his life hell in school no one would have guessed you’d be dating at sixteen. At eighteen Barou left for Blue Lock and you both started learning it wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. But there you were, always support him in every sense with your quirky ass ways. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, it also makes tension rise in the best fucking way. You’d be the death of him he was sure of it.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI • Blue Lock timeline • both virgins • phone sex • smut • fluff • Barou is smitten • size kink •

If people knew how you met Barou then they’d never have guessed he’d eventually be the one to start dating you. Kicking a ball into his face at the age of twelve because he was apparently bullying another kid. Barou called it ‘saying it how it was to save them making a fool of themselves in the future’, you called it mean, egotistical and bullying. It wasn’t the most romantic story to tell on how you both met, sure, but you still laughed telling it.

But that was how it happened.

He said some mean shit to your friend about his uselessness at soccer and you went absolutely fucking not.

He was impressed by the power and accuracy of the strike, none the less from a girl and the fact you’d caught him off guard.

Barou Shouei was a ripe asshole of a person long before his age made double digits and you simply didn’t stand for it.

You promised you’d make his life hell since that day and you left little twelve year old him stood dumb founded with a nose bleed and his heart kicking in his ribs.

It developed over the years, the constant bickering —god the teachers hated you both in the same class, apart from that one art teacher that seemed to know something no one else did, but that part will come in a sec.

It pissed him off at the start with how you never backed down to him and never got upset with his ways —as he got older it got weirdly fucking endearing.

So endearing in fact that his teenage mind and hormones started to act up changing his view on you. He tried to remain stubborn, truly he did, acting like you were a pain in his ass and nothing more.

But he wasn’t the only teenage boy with boiling hormones and a mind quickly adapting to it… So when other guys also started taking notice of how much prettier you were getting, how your body started to change that’s when it became an issue for Barou.

He absolutely wasn’t developing feelings for you —it was purely hormones and he was human much to others denial of it.

But that’s where the art teacher stepped in, the only one brave enough to pair you and Barou together for a project. It caused silence in the class when she announced it, even the students stunned she’d make such a foolish choice. That evil glint in her eyes, her quiet evil cackle as she drummed her fingers together in her corner watching you together.

That was also the day he started to really changed his mind on you, he still remembers it clearly.

He fucking hated arts, it was messy and shit got everywhere. He didn’t have an artistic bone in his body either and he wasn’t about to try.

You stepped in for him surprising him with how good you actually were at drawing, you picked up the charcoal and went for it. He just sat and watched you, red eyes softening as he really took a look at you. Your tongue poking out as you concentrated, your hair tucked behind your ear to keep from your eyes even though loose strands were falling from your messy bun.

Your skirt riding higher than it should be, those thigh high socks causing a little dip in your thighs at the rim. He felt heat crawl up his neck and he cleared his throat looking back up to what the hell you were drawing.

When you signed it off with a title and slid it over to him he realised what it was, his hairstyle was hardly unrecognisable so he knew it was him.

You’d draw him in charcoal, striking a goal.

‘The Kings Strike.’

That’s what you called it, you waved him off saying it was nothing and it was from his game last weekend. He found out you had photographic memory and he also found out you’d been attending his games.

Just cause your girl friends wanted to go and cheer on the boys, but you only went to be social —apparently. Not interested in the sweaty men running around with egos over balls and nets.

Your blabbering fell on deaf ears because it was difficult for him to ignore how black your fingers had gotten whilst smudging the charcoal. So he reached for his back pack and pulled out his trusty cleaning wipes, ignoring you laughing about his supply of them. The bell ringing was deaf on you as you watched Barou Shouei cleaning your hands of charcoal, his hands were so soft and warm, despite his rough personality he was gentle, thumbs massaging over your fingers to rub out the black stains. His eyes fixed on the task, then telling you to be at his game this coming weekend and to sit on the front row.

He took the drawing, he still has it at home but it’s framed —you had no idea he’d done that.

Interactions started changing from then; he sat near you in most classes willing to pair up, his reaction to your taunting was less aggressive and you eventually turned into flirting with him covering it with humour. He always cleaned your hands after arts, he always corrected your uniform if it went out of line.

Then he started handing you water after PE telling your dumbass to keep hydrated and he glared at guys who tried coming up to you, never saying a word but Barou never had to. It was subtle to start with until it got so noticeable that rumours flying around that you were Barou’s girl and it didn’t take him long to let everyone know it was true.

At sixteen Barou made his decision and told you to date him because he could tolerate you, hardly romantic but Barou wasn’t.

You left him alone for his soccer and respected his passion towards it, after all you never knew Barou any differently. It came first for him and you never asked for anything otherwise.

Everything was fine, surprisingly good actually and he was a great boyfriend. You swiftly both turning eighteen and that’s when lives started to take different paths.

Him leaving for blue lock was a hard adjustment, you didn’t think it would be until he was gone with no contact, practically disappearing from your life without much notice which you really didn’t appreciate and let him know about it.

It wasn’t nice, but not an adjustment you hated because he was doing him and you kept yourself busy for your studies. You’d never tell him how shitty the nights could be sometimes, how it did actually affect you more than you’d like to admit because he was chasing his dreams. Not like how you felt would ever stop him but you just didn’t think it would help anything.

So you coped, you adjusted, you suffered in a way that he’d never know about because you didn’t think he needed to. Besides that was your problem to deal with, not his, you couldn’t rely on him all the time. It was unhealthy.

Your phone was drier than his dry ass texts, because he wasn’t allowed access to it in Blue Lock.

Until the day your phone did ring, Barou’s ID as clear as day on the lit up screen, gracing your eyes with him working out shirtless days before he left for Blue Lock. Your heart leaped into your throat and you answered it a little too keenly, almost dropping it as you slid the bar to answer.

Barou however wasn’t himself, he sat in the empty canteen alone, Isagi had left him after eating. Throughout his entire time here he had succeeded and even though him being stolen for Isagi and Nagi’s team wasn’t a bad move he still felt the affects of that match replaying in his mind days later. That shitty feeling of defeat was resurfacing, clawing at the back of his skull and churning something foreign in his stomach.

Truthfully, it shook him seeing Isagi and Nagi push him aside, a lesson learnt and a new drive for the king, sure. How you grow is from crap happening and he was fine with it.

He learned from pain, he wasn’t wallowing but for some reason it niggled something in him that made him want to reach for you, for the first time in two years of dating you and five of knowing you. It made him think about you more, finding his mind drifted whilst training, like you not being around as much suddenly hit him at once.

So he cashed in his points and got his phone so he could close that gap that had formed.

He barely spoke, letting you just talk because all he wanted was your voice, your weirdly cheerful personality and your annoying ass ability to make him feel better to work its magic.

“So you cashed in points to get your phone back?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,”

“But I am flattered and I’m gonna remind you forever that you do actually miss me~! How could you not? It is me.”

“An ego doesn’t suit you, lose it.” He grumbled, letting the smirk twitch at his lips and luckily for him you couldn’t see it.

“You’re smirking right now.”

Well that took it off his face.

“Pahaha! Aw Barou~! I miss you too, seriously it’s shit but I know you gotta do this, so I’m here for you when you have a shit day.”

“Tch, who said I’m having a shit day? Just callin’ cause I have to, this boyfriend crap is exhausting it’s been peaceful without you.”

“Well, m’phones been drier than a camels ass in a sandstorm so-“

“You’re disgusting, go get some fucking friends then loser.”

“Pftttt says you, Mr I go to the bowling alley by myself.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hmm, I wish, still waiting for that y’know, kinda glad we didn’t do it before you left though, that woulda been real cruel.”

Barou fell silent down the line and it was your turn to smirk, twirling your hair around your finger you shifted on your bed.

Got him.

“Guessing you didn’t check your messages from me?”

“No.”

“Cute, you called me straight away~ missing your little virgin girlfriend waiting for you at home to be devoured by her king~”

Barou inhaled sharply through his nose, he was glad he had his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. One hand holding the phone to his ear the other rose to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop his mind wondering. His cock rising to a semi regardless, these joggers weren’t going to hide much either and he was still in the canteen.

“Suggest you look through the messages, it’ll help you whilst away.”

“I can’t do shit, there’s no fucking privacy so stop being a damn tease.”

“Barou, you still in here?”

Despite the male addressing him Barou heard your snicker down the phone, his jaw clenched, eye twitching and vein popping all signs his lack of patience was biting. Can’t these guys just fuck off? Seriously everywhere he looks they aren’t far away.

“Well, I’ll let you go king~ keep devouring, keep pushing yourself and keep learning Barou. You’re gonna eat them alive and when you’re back, you can eat me alive again~! Turns out that unholy mouth of yours really does show me heaven~!”

“Woman-”

Barou realised his mistake when he growled it out down the phone, red eyes instantly turning to Isagi and Chigiri who both rose an eyebrow at him, a smirk spreading over Isagi’s face.

Sadly your loud laughter down the phone was heard by the eavesdroppers only confirming you were a female.

“You called a girl?”

“I find it hard to believe someone would actually be attracted to him.”

The line went dead leaving Barou to look at the boring ass screen of his blank wallpaper.

Frowning at it he suddenly realised despite knowing you since he was 12 and dating you for two years he had no photos of you.

Isagi leaned over his shoulder and addressed the exact same thing going through the kings head.

“No photos of her? C’mon show her off! She pretty?”

Chigiri also leaned over mildly curious as well.

“I’m intrigued also, hard to believe someone like you has a girlfriend.”

“Fuck off you peasants!”

Barou stood abruptly and pushed the boys out the way, isagi sniggered and elbowed Chigiri.

“I think he’s a little flustered.”

Barou half turned, his form a shadow and red eyes glowing giving him some eerie ass look that wiped the smile from Isagi.

“What was that, donkey?”

“Nothing! I said I bet she’s real pretty.”

“Damn fucking right she is, mention her again or to anyone else and I’ll kill you got it?”

Isagi nodded trying to hide the smirk twitching on his mouth, Chigiri with his usual cool expression.

“Reckon he’s a house husband? He definitely wears the maid outfit.”

“Yeah, I can kinda see that.” Chigiri agreed, both their heads running through the images of him running the home like a maid “-I’d rather not though.”

Hands in pockets, slouched back he grumpily made his way down the hallway towards the bathing rooms, shutting himself in there and locking the door behind him.

Unlocking his phone he went straight to your messages, ignoring anything else popping up on his notifications from having it off so long. He’d check your socials later, maybe, he’d prefer not seeing you carry on in life without him but he was also curious as to what you’d been up to. He’d been distracted and focused for weeks in here, it helped not thinking about you on the outside.

“Tch, fucking girl is gonna be the death of me.”

He grumbled, scrolling through the texts you’d been sending him over the last few weeks, thankfully not everyday texts -every Friday you’d message him about your week, he’d skipped them for now as the picture messages were what caught his eyes.

His cock was already semi hard from the phone conversation, mind running with the shit you’d put in there and how easily you got into his head about it. Cock hardening completely it bulged in his joggers as he seen what you’d sent.

His heart raced in his chest, thumping so loudly he heard it in his ears, hot flushes running through his body as he watched the videos.

Your index and forefinger running over your clit before separating your lips to give him a full view, watching your drooling hole clenching around nothing.

God your pussy was so fucking pretty, his mouth watered at the sight. Thumb frozen as it hovered over the screen watching you collect slick to run over your clit in circles, he dared turned the volume up slightly only to hear you moaning for him, hearing the squelch of your fingers pressing into your hole and he watched it stretch to accommodate them.

You hadn’t slept together yet, but he knew how good you felt on his tongue and fingers like you did him.

“Shit, this damn girl-“

Barou reached for the bottom of his sweater, lifting it to bite the end of it holding the material out of the way, exposing his six pack. Reaching down for the waist band of his joggers lifting hips to bring them down enough to release his cock, it slapped his stomach and he groaned, he was rock solid -weeks of refraining from any release due to the lack of privacy offered here.

His hand wrapped around his thick head, thumb rubbing over the tip smearing his precum, he released a breathy moan as his thighs tensed.

Barou wasn’t wasting any time in fucking into his fist —hard, horny and feeling feral about the idea of being the one to take you for himself. His pace matching your fingers as you fucked yourself for him on video. He didn’t last two damn minutes and he wasn’t trying to hold back, he tapped his cock against his stomach, getting more turned on by how hard his dick was.

“Cummin’ Barou!”

He watched your hips lift from the bed, how you got the camera skills you had he didn’t want to know -but you didn’t miss anything, your hips rolled in the air as he watched your pussy clench around your fingers.

His cock throbbed as he felt that build up reach its tipping point, he panted through his teeth and the material in his mouth, drooling into it.

What really helped him finish was you pulling your fingers out, watching that clear cum cover your fingers and link to your dripping hole. The camera followed them as they travelled to your mouth, only your tits and mouth in shot as you smirked, cleaning off your own fingers tongue sliding between them making sure you didn’t miss anything.

“Shit, fuckkk-“ Barou grunted, his legs straightened and his head rolled back to hit the wall behind him, heels digging into the floor to brace himself as he came, releasing into his hand and stomach as his body shook.

His chest heaving as the release waved through his body leaving him lax, his cock resting on his stomach and he looked down at the damn mess.

Tch. Looked good though.

Accessing his camera he flipped it to selfie mode, he angled it down so you could just see his jawline, teeth biting into his shirt holding it out the way, cum covered his cock and hard stomach. His hand holding his dick which dripped cum still leaking from the slit, he could see his dick flexing as cum drooled from it. His load was thick and almost too much -balls finally emptying from ignoring his needs. Cock softening but still looking thick and heavy even in his large hands.

He’d been around enough guys in the baths here to know he was fucking big, even soft he was packing a dick. It only aided his smug ego when he thought about how you were going to struggle taking him, perhaps a little concerned he was going to actually hurt you.

Barou > 1 image attachment

sent.

Queen > ;) Good boy Barou. Knew it, you missed me~!

Received

Barou > See how cocky you are when you struggle with it.

Sent

Queen > Yeah, it’ll be kinda hot though. 👀

Received

Barou > oi, send me that photo.

Sent

Queen > I’ve just sent you loads!

Recieved

Barou > One in the dress.

Sent

Queen > seriously? You’ve got all those lingerie photos and you want that summer one? It’s not even wank bank material.

Received

Barou > that’s the fucking point dumbass, just send it!!

Sent

Barou locked his phone and cleaned up the mess he’d made, deciding he much preferred it when you were around to deal with it, instead he took another quick shower before heading back to the room.

Checking his phone one last time to see your messages. Opening the attachment to find he got what he wanted.

One of your friends had shot a photo of you during the summer, wearing a yellow sundress that hugged your waist, the skirt dancing around your thighs from the breeze, your hand holding it down and the other holding your straw hat to your head.

The laugh on your face, your hair dancing around you. One spaghetti strap had slipped off your shoulder, tits pushed up from your arms pressing into them holding onto your dress to save your dignity from the breeze. Tanned summer skin standing out beautifully against the yellow dress, the gold necklace with a small dainty B sitting high on your neck.

Long toned legs, thigh showing from the height of the skirt blowing up. Pretty short acrylic nails painted white like your toes for summer, hands just missing that ring he knew he’d put on you one day.

It was the kind of photo that made him realise he was fucking smitten with you.

He locked his phone again and shoved it under his pillow, arms crossing behind his head as he glared at the ceiling. The room was dark and others asleep to which he was grateful for because he knew his damn face was burning.

God this was fucking pathetic.

Your words of encouragement over the phone earlier repeated in his mind now he could think more clearly, the relief in hearing your voice again, seeing photos of you. His heart swelled in his chest, it took away that feeling he was unable to shake.

His ego lowered for a split second and it allowed that voice to tell him what he’d been ignoring for weeks…

Yup, he missed your annoying ass.

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sushijimaaa · 27 days ago

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𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮’𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 prt 1.

Barou Shouei x FemReader (slight x Nagi Seishiro in prt 2)

it all started because he bullied your brother, it all started when 12 year old you kicked a ball into his face. Growing up with your eventual sweetheart wasn’t all smooth sailing, life was full of lessons but through the rough and smooth one thing Barou always knew; you were always his girl. Sometimes though even a king needed to lose his throne to realise his true royalties were what built it.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI + virginity loss (both 18+) + angst with eventual comfort + fluff + long fic / Tugs & Texts expansion + established relationship with Barou + smut +

Word count 11.4k

Barou was always king of the field since he started at 6 years old and discovered how good it felt to win, how natural he was at this sport and it was his domain; it was where he belonged.

This discovery meant Barou dominated the field wherever he went, crushing anyone who crossed his path for the next six years.

Until one day he happened to crush the wrong person.

He’d kicked the ball hard towards the goal aiming for it to be a score but some brave kid decided to block the strike.

He walked over, looming over the boy as he curled into himself holding his face, blood and snot gushing from his as is skin burned bright red. Barou’s hands shoved into his pockets as he half leaned over him.

“Tsk, what a donkey thinking you’d block that, learnt your lesson?”

12 year old Barou with his new lingo, new insults to throw at people, left the field and thought nothing of it, just another who got in his way and learned to stay out of it; until the next day he met his karma.

“You!”

Barou had been taking part in his strict training routine in the rain, at 12 years old he set his mindset and goals high; creating a routine that he researched and put together through PE, his favourite subject in school.

Red eyes turned to the girly voice that called out angrily in the rain but instead of meeting who was calling him, his face was met with a ball, smacking him clean in the face and actually making him take a few steps back.

“You asshole! Thinking you can treat people like you do, you hit the wrong boy yesterday Shouei! I’m gonna make your life hell!”

He never even seen you coming, a mere voice in the rain and suddenly blood gushed from his nose; his hand clamped over it to stop the bleeding.

Eyes wide he pulled his hand from his face to stare at the fresh blood, even his damn teeth were hurting.

Barou met your eyes for the first time in his life, shocked to the core a freaking girl had kicked the ball that hard.

“who the hell you supposed to be, the babies girlfriend!?”

“That was my brother and he’s only 8 you idiot!”

Barou straightened as he took you in, you looked roughly around his age definitely not as young as the kid yesterday. That fire in your eyes was burning but what Barou was more impressed with was the accuracy and strength of your strike with the ball. You stood in the rain, practically steaming as it hit you because you were so angry.

Then you spun and disappeared leaving 12 year old Barou with sore teeth, bleeding nose and pounding head.

Perhaps even his heart thumping more than it should be.

—0—

You certainly kept your promise; making Barou Shouei’s left hell for the next four years. Although at this point he was convinced it was just habit, no one could hold a grudge for this long surely?

The fact he could see that damn gleam in your eye, those lips twitching in a little smirk when you pushed his buttons, when he squared up to you pressing his forehead to yours and you only pushed back was proof you were enjoying it.

So he tried to not feed it.

He was the better person, walking away or ignoring you. He did best to avoid you, but found him you always did!

The only one really brave enough to bother him, to get in his space was you. Girls were too scared to approach him in person, deflated by love notes left in his locker; he simply threw them away never even opening them. Even the guys stayed away from him unless it was his soccer team.

He became a bit of a loner, seemingly content in his own company or focusing on his football dream. His arrogance and ego grew into something rather ugly, adopting manners of being a king, everyone being a peasant or a donkey.

You’d stood up to Barou from day one, the only reason you survived it was because his patience and morals were incredible; he didn’t believe in hitting girls. Even if you standing up to him wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

However, being sixteen and hormones arriving changed things up.

Where things remained very much the same for you towards him, Barou’s teenage boy mind was starting to mess with his exchanges with you. He’d started to really try to stay away, his gaze noticing things in you he hadn’t before and it disgusted him.

Like how you standing up to him, never backing down and being just as stubborn as he was shifted from annoying to endearing. He argued back less, unable to form insults when eyes dropping down to your shirt that was getting too tight on your chest, your skirt dancing on your thighs, how your waist dipped showing curves.

He was successful for a time, keeping distance from you and avoiding any heads butting. But this week, much to poor Shouei’s dismay, the teacher thought it was a good idea to pair you both together for a project.

even the whole class fell silent, awkwardly looking between each other. No other teacher was brave enough to pair up you both, but this one seemed to twinkle something mischievous in her eyes over it.

Barou had been unusually quiet with you for the last two weeks and he had been avoiding you like the plague.

Why? You had no idea.

You didn’t really care either.

“Get into your pairs and decide what you’re going to do for the arts project.”

Barou’s eyes darkened as you stood from your seat knowing he wouldn’t move towards you, the rest of the class moved and chatter started throughout the room making sure they had distance from you both. The occasional side glances to see if you’d killed each other yet.

You slid into the high stool next to him with a little too much sass, red eyes glancing down at your school skirt riding up, thigh high socks squeezing the tops of your thighs and he groaned, turning away to glare at the wall and fight the heat crawling up his neck.

“So Barou,” you sang, he inhaled deeply arms crossing tighter against his chest that was getting bigger every passing month, it was impressive how the guy had shot up like he had. He was so freaking tall and growing more muscle by the week.

“What’cha wanna do with your favourite subject?”

“Like hell I know. You do it, keep that shit off me.”

He hated arts and crafts because it was so damn messy, he was already glaring at the paper on the table and the different pencils, charcoals and paints lined up to use.

“Awh c’mon!” You grabbed the charcoal pencil and started to press it hard on the paper, gathering a nice little patch of black dust before placing it down and pressed your index finger into it.

Barou actually gritted his teeth at the mess, eyes tearing from the page to look else where whilst you started to draw something with the charcoal.

You were always good at portraits or forms of the anatomy, he’d seen you work with charcoal a lot and despite its mess the end results were always good.

He’d give you that.

“So, I’m surprised you haven’t kicked off being paired with me.”

“You’re good at the subject, you’ll get us a pass. I’m not foolish enough to not take the best in here, means I don’t have to touch this shitty stuff either.”

Your silence and lack of work on the paper made him turn to look at you, only to see you looking at him suspiciously.

“The fuck you starin’ at?!”

“Where’s Barou?”

He scoffed and looked away realising he’d just somewhat complimented you to your face. You laughed and scratched your cheek with your finger forgetting about the charcoal coating the pad.

“I’ll get us passes useless Barou! Don’t you worry!”

You returned your attention back to the paper and Barou’s eyes moved to you when you weren’t looking. Red gaze watching your face, your tongue sticking out a bit as you concentrated with a small smile on your lips. Eyes beaming with joy at you setting your skills on something you enjoyed.

Damn it you’d grown up so much, he wasn’t the only one who’d shot up. You started to lose that baby fat on your cheeks, your hair had got longer and you always smelled so damn good. Your shirts were always ironed and perfectly white, he’d notice the material hugging you more as your breasts had started to grow, the shape of you changing as you both hit 16.

His eyes moved to your face again, noticing a few strands of hair had fallen from your successful attempt of a messy bun to stop it getting in the way whilst drawing.

He then noticed the black smudge on your cheek and he glared at it, his hand twitching already to remove it.

How had you got that on your face so damn quickly!

“Ta-da!!!”

You held the page up, a dust of black cloud flying off causing Barou to shoot from his seat quickly.

“Watch it you slob!”

You looked over your shoulder with a dry expression,

“You’re such a princess Barou,”

“Piss off.”

You blew him a kiss and looked back at you work, your photographic memory paying off as you grinned at it.

“Hmm, just needs a title, how about….” You pondered for a second before lighting up and grabbing a pencil, scribbling down before sliding it to him.

‘The King’s Strike.’

Barou stared at the page, you slid in front of him. The perfect striking pose, shirtless with just shorts, his long socks, shin pads and soccer boots. Muscles drawn perfectly, the twist of the body and shadowed with the charcoal. The ball moving towards the goal, every detail was there.

Then his hair.

It was him. Striking a goal.

“It was you at the game last week,” you said boredly, “-s’yours if you want it.”

“You were there?” He looked at you finally and you shrugged, looking off across the class.

“Since last year,”

“Every game?”

“Uh -yeah. The girls like watching you lot, I find it boring but seeing you prance around like a show pony is midly entertaining.”

Shit why did he suddenly feel so hot? He didn’t even give a shit that you’d insulted him, he was so focused on the fact you’d been watching him and he never knew.

His hands got clammy, his heart accelerating in his chest like it did after he scored at the same time he felt fucking nervous. The bell ringing broke his gaze on the drawing, you jumped down from your stool and turned to leave.

Barou had other ideas, grabbing your wrist before you got too far you spun back and looked at his grip on you to him. Frowning you opened your mouth to say something but Barou dragged you down with him to grab his bag.

“You scrub you can’t just leave like that, you’re gonna get that shit everywhere! You’re fucking filthy!”

Pulling out a pack of cleaning wipes you stared at him like he’d grown three heads, before snorting a laugh, then it went full blown.

“You carry those in your school bag?! Hahahahaha!”

“Shut it you slob.”

Heat crawled up his neck but he battled it down, his hand lifted your wrist to clean your fingers with the wipe. What the hell was he doing?

“It’s even under your fucking nail -ugh this is disgusting.” He was grumbling to himself and you froze staring at him, he was surprisingly gentle actually, you thought he was finished until he grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together causing your lips to perk and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched in your throat as the closeness.

Reaching up with a new wipe to clean the smudge on your cheek.

“I gotta game Saturday,” he grumbled, voice deep and gruff, refusing to look at you longer than a glance. You were worried he could feel your heart thumping in your chest, or how hot your cheeks felt under his fingers.

“You comin?”

You nodded dumbly your eyes taking in his features being this close. Completely forgetting if you even had any plans this weekend, you felt blank at the moment, heat stirring in your chest and you actually rubbed your thighs together.

When did this guy get so damn handsome? His eyes were so… red, his hair looked so soft, he’d grown substantially and he absolutely towered over you now.

“Front row on our teams side,”

His eyes flicking to your mouth before locking with your eyes.

“-got it, girl?”

Barou released your cheeks and grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and leaving the room; you stood dumbfounded at what the hell just happened.

You looked to the table, he’d taken the drawing.

Unknown to you, the old lady art teacher was chuckling in her seat, fingers pressed together and her glasses glinting watching you both.

“I knew it.”

—0—

You’d attended his game, sitting where he told you to and you watched how each game turned him more into an asshole on the field. He was cruel, selfish and egotistical yet you couldn’t stop watching him.

You’d made a mess more often in arts because he couldn’t stop himself from cleaning you up, accidentally spilling things on your hands and making art class extra messy. Even when you weren’t paired together he’d storm across the room when everyone left.

You’d make sure your tie looked off when you seen him and he’d straighten it because it drove him mad. It amused you endlessly, weirdly liking it each time he got closer to you.

It all started from Art classes, graduating closer to you, using the excuse he knew you’d make a mess. It started simple, minor until it progressed into pairing with you for projects. Glowering down at whoever was next to you and getting them to move. They were scared whilst your eyes twinkled in amusement up at him, until he glared at you for staring at him.

Where it began it arts to spread to each class he shared with you, seating next to you or keeping you as a study partner. You didn’t find yourself questioning it, a light tease every now and then which he found himself not biting to.

The day he caught you walking home in the rain without an umbrella he let you stand under his, belittling you the entire walk home for being a dumbass and forgetting it.

Your heart racing when you seen his shoulder wet, hanging out from the umbrella to keep you dry. So you made him a bento as a thank you, he was skeptical at first, looking at it with disgust and you didn’t think he’d eat it, until he handed it back clean and empty the next day.

That one walk turned into him waiting at the gate no matter the weather, he’d listen to you ramble on about absolute bullshit wondering why he tolerated you above everyone else; perhaps your amazing bento boxes he had daily now were the reason.

The morning he caught you running on the weekend during the summer; those shorts riding fair too far up your thighs and ass leaving nothing to the imagination. He couldn’t shift the image of your sweat glistening skin, chest heaving as you sucked air back in, your sports bra pushing everything up and playing on his teenage mind.

He started running with you, leaving his headphones in whilst you had yours in. Every weekend morning he’d be waking you up at stupid times to run and you kept up with him. You’d both stop at a shop to buy a drink on the wall home to cool down.

“My feet are buzzing!”

“Get better trainers then you idiot,”

“I did! They haven’t arrived yet.”

“Then why are you fucking running if they’re hurting?”

You pouted and prodded his bicep,

“-and miss our morning dates, getting all hot, sweaty and out of breath with you? Pft!”

Barou handed you a cold bottle of water, pressing the cold bottle to your forehead whilst gulping down his. You side glanced watching his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow.

His shirt was off, tucked into his waist band of his shorts and sweat dripping down his body. The temperature was already getting unbearable this early in the morning. Ditching his empty bottle he started to walk forwards, glancing over his shoulder at your slower pace and fiddling with the bottle.

“Don’t say a damn word,” He sighed in annoyance and stopped, crouching to his knee he glared over his shoulder. “-up.”

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, wrapping them around his sides and feeling you press your body flush against his back, arms wrapping lazily around his neck and resting your head on top of his.

People started gossiping, started suggesting that Barou had his eyes on you, the mutterings and the rumour of being Barou’s girl started circulating around.

It was all talk, nothing had actually happened between you both but you’d noticed the change in him as much as you had yourself, it was slow but each week over the last year progressed into something. From enemies to practically seeing each other daily, to him eating your bento boxes and being at each game.

Then a day came after you both turned 17 and attended a certain game that changed it all, sat at the front on his teams side like you always had done for the past year since he first told you to.

This time you weren’t alone, some guy was sat next to you and you were polite enough to speak with him when he tried to talk with you. He was funny, polite and kept you company. You laughed with him, probably flirted a little bit because you were a natural flirt, what? It was fun!

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the red eyed king on the field. Anger boiled in Barou each time his focused slipped to you and by the end of his match he was seething despite winning the scores, his usual fans screamed and wailed for him but it did nothing to distract him of that image with you and that guy.

Barou ignored his team cheering, stomping over he removed his jersey from his last game, sweat and muscles grabbing eyes and girls squealed at the view.

Before you knew it a sweaty ass jersey had collided with your head, scrambling to remove it only hearing Barou’s pissed off voice.

“Oi, you fucking donkey get lost, she’s taken.”

Stunned and embarrassed by the show in front of crowds you were left gawking as Barou made his way off the field with his team behind him.

The next day had you stomping up to Barou whilst training, he was warming up by himself as usual taking up his strict daily work out routine.

Jesus even in that baggy hoody he was wearing he looked massive, his back looked huge as you stomped up to him, inwardly feeling your confidence shaken as you drew closer suddenly feeling smaller with each step.

“Oi! King douche!”

Barou grunted and looked over his shoulder at you with a bored expression, eyes giving you a once over before half turning to you; the only one he’d paused his warm up for even if it was only a few moments.

You marched to him, gripping his hoody at the front and pulling him down to your height.

“What the hell was that about yesterday huh?”

Barou glanced down at your hand gripping his hoody before meeting you again, eyes bored he cocked at eyebrow. He could have easily pulled back but he remained half bent to your height.

“Mind telling me who exactly I’m taken by? Cause I seemed to have forgotten that happening.”

“By me,”

You sputtered at his bluntness your grip loosened on him and you leaned back.

“What? You- I- what are you talking about? That’s a two way conversation Barou! You never asked me an-“

“Date me then,”

“Will you stop being so blunt! At least act like you’re actually interested!”

“Date me, I can tolerate you.”

You deadpanned at his lazy bluntness and released your grip on him, stepping back you went to leave.

Barou heard your grumbling about him, his eye twitched at you walking away from him.

“Always so fucking stubborn.” He sighed, his hand grabbing your wrist he spun you back, other hand threading through your hair into a grip and pulling you to him.

His mouth pressed to yours in a movement too smooth for someone as belligerent as Barou to pull off, but he made up for it with how roughly he kissed.

You could taste the mint on his tongue, his lips were so damn soft, he was uncoordinated and rough, teeth biting your bottom lip too hard and his tongue running over it as if it was apologising. Greedy, messy, impatient and rough yet some kind of softness under it all —exactly what you’d expect from him.

His hand at the back of your head kept you from leaving as he pulled back, his lips shining from spit and your lip gloss. He pressed his forehead against you, eyes peering into you as he towered over you.

“Got it, girl?”

“Barou, was that your first kiss?”

The heel of his hand pressed to your forehead replacing his and he pushed you backwards.

“Get lost I have training to do.”

It totally was, you snickered and turned to leave, failing to see Barou’s thumb swipe his bottom lip, tongue following savouring the taste of you and your lip balm. A smirk twitching on his mouth as he looked over his shoulder to see you walking away with a little bounce in your step.

—0—

Baron always thought the act of kissing was pretty disgusting, the germs and how unclean it was to swap spit, eighteen years of that thought it was all thrown out the window when he realise the taste of your lip balm was addicting. That subtle hint of cherry lingered more than your usual strawberry flavoured one and he groaned into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

The little moan that left you made his hips roll up into yours, that bulge in his shorts running painfully tight against you, his hands gripping your hips with the intent to bruise.

You’d come over to his house surprising him in his room when he returned from a shower, the little running shorts you had on were far too short, the loose fitting white sports top and red sports bra underneath left little to the imagination also. The towel thrown over his shoulder, stood in his gym shorts and listening to the giggles of his little sisters signally they were the ones who let you in.

The distance between you lasted seconds after his door slammed shut, he only half turned around to see you’d strode up behind him, throwing your arms around his neck and jumping up knowing he’d catch you.

It hadn’t taken him long to walk to his bed blindly, hands gripping your thighs and you kissing him like you hadn’t seen him only yesterday. He turned, fell to his bed and let you straddle him as he sat up, you’d been kissing since, rolling your hips against his.

“So birthday boy, you’re finally eighteen,”

Barou sneered, rolling his eyes as you lowered your lips to his jaw line, rolling your hips against the bulge in his shorts causing an airy moan to leave him.

“You’re little over a month older, stop acting so superior.”

You laughed against his neck, straightening yourself and leaning back, his hands sliding up to your lower back to aid your angle, you hands linking behind his neck.

“Speaking of which, did you know our star signs are the best match?”

“Don’t start with this shit again, its bullshit-“

You laughed, eyes gleaming and his softened watching your pure amusement above him, skin still glistening with sweat from your run here, lips plump from kissing him so hard.

And his poor heart kicked in his ribs, a sudden burst of emotion swelling up his chest and it spread like heat.

“I was thinking of what to get you for your birthday-“ you wiggled off him, his grip on you a little reluctant to let you go but your hand pressing against his hard cock made his jaw clench, “-you locked the door right?”

Fuck.

It was finally happening huh? It wasn’t often Barou felt himself caught off guard, or any confidence shaken because he was pretty grounded, but his nerves jumped not showing it in his expression and yours didn’t falter either.

You’d both decided to wait until you were eighteen, given you’d turned that age a little over a month ago he didn’t think you’d be so literal in the agreement when he turned it.

When you dropped to your knees between his, hands gliding up to the waist band of his shorts that were doing very little to hide his dick, you tugged and he didn’t move for a second, red eyes looking down at your pouting face, his hair still down from his shower as it draped over his broad shoulders.

His hand cupped your chin locking gazes with you.

“Ain’t no pressure or rush, shouldn’t be doin’ it just cause its my birthday,”

“Your dicks literally flexing under my hand-“

“That ain’t the point!” He seethed, other hand gripping your wrist pulling it from his cock and you pouted at him, actually fucking pouted and he sucked his teeth, his self restrain faltering for a second at your pouty ass face.

“You even know what you’re fucking doin?”

“Kinda, but it gets me off trying it for the first time so, think of it as a joint birthday present!”

You’d watched Barou’s jaw tightened, red eyes sliding off to look at his door in concern knowing his little sisters were running around due to his parents being out, his attention quickly brought back to you when you tugged at his waist band again.

“I put frozen on for them and bought a bag of sweets -we have two hours.”

You heard Barou click his tongue and he stood, tilting his head down to watch as you leaned back onto your ass, knees still on the floor and looked up at him all doe eyed. His black hair falling to the side he tilted and his thumbs ran under the band of his shorts, pulling it down low enough so his little trimmed snail trail appeared before the head of his dick rested over the band.

You groaned and licked your lips, reaching up to skim your fingers along his hips.

“B please,” his jaw clenched, nervous for reasons he didn’t quite understand but he hid it well, his cock flexing at your tongue licking your swollen lips, eyes glazing with something he hadn’t seen before and your whiny little beg.

“Take it easy-“ one of his thumbs pushed his shorts, releasing his cock with a heavy slap to his stomach, a sticky line of pre linking to his dick and your eyes widened, a smug smirk gracing his face and his ego soared at your shocked expression. Confidence taking over his concern at you faltering, his other hand went for your pony tail, twisting it around his hand and pushing your face to the hilt of his cock, “-I ain’t small so don’t get carried away.”

His confidence faltered when yours overtook his in strides, tongue pressing to the gap between his shaft and balls, licking a thick, slow line up to the head of his dick before swirling your tongue around it. Barou watched the pre melt on your tongue, you moaned and he fucking melted.

You laughed when he let out some choked noise at the feel of your tongue swirl around the head of his dick, before kissing the underside of it looking at him like you were in love.

“Taste good B-“ you hummed against it rising a hand to wrap around his dick not even managing to touch your fingers because of his sheer girth, you pumped up and his body jolted forward the hand tightened around your hair, “-can I suck now?”

“F-Fuck,” you took that as your go ahead and wasted no time in wrapping your lips around his cock sinking down enough so you were comfortable at your limit, his dick flexed in your warm mouth and when you moaned around his cock Barou was finished, both hands held either side of your face and you gripped him tighter refusing to budge.

“G-Get off, fuck- Hold on,-“ your name left his mouth in a such a whiny tone you looked up to check this was actually Barou, only smirking around his cock at his expression. Eyes blow and wide, mouth agap and he was damn drooling.

Your eye contact with him, his thick cock in your mouth, hand wrapped around him and that little smirk would stick with Barou until his dying day he was sure of it, he came so quickly he didn’t even have to warn you, your expression changing to shock as thick ropes of cum spilled into your mouth so hard it shot to the back of your throat.

Hips jolting, six pack flexing as he released his first orgasm with you, lasting less than five minutes in your mouth for the first time.

You didn’t stop, spit and cum creating a sloppy mess down your chin, hollowing your cheeks and tongue rubbed against the head of his dick you bobbed on his cock; his voice broke as he tried to growl out your name, hand gripping painfully now on your hair trying to pull you off.

Looking back up at him you almost laughed, his eyes borderline cross eyed, drool now spilling to his chin and his hips bucking with each stroke of your tongue. You were overstimulating him and you knew it, you were clenching around nothing and you could feel yourself soaked through your running shorts. Spit and cum dribbled down your neck into your cleavage, knowing Barou would have a fit about it when he managed to uncross his eyes.

His body recoiled and he sat back on the bed, panting like he’d just finished a soccer match and sweating as much. You rose your hand to wipe your mouth on the back of it, eyes glazed and looking at Barou like he was prey, red eyes drinking in the mess you made but unable to ignore you licking your lips.

“Maybe the film I picked was too long-“

You shouldn’t have doubted Barou’s ability to recover, you shouldn’t have been snarky. He growled and your face faltered for a second, all amusement or taunting left you, blinded with being too cocky and confident with your actions to think that you’d had ever beaten Barou Shouei.

“You’re dead-“

You stood up quickly, a little wobbly from numb knees on Barou’s bedroom carpet and turned to leave, hoping to seek safety in his little sisters downstairs, he was quicker, a thick, strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him with a half screaming leaving you.

“Shut the fuck up-“ his mouth pressed to your ear, his deep warning made bumps rise over your skin, his hand clamped over your mouth stifling your noise and holding you in place whilst the hand around your waist dipped into your shorts. Barou wasted no time in roughly sliding a finger clumsily down your clit right to your hole, your hips jolting forward and your cry was muffled under his hand. “-you’re soaking.”

He growled into your ear, deep voice making you clench around nothing but Barou felt your pussy pulse against the pad of his finger resting at your entrance, he rolled it gathering slick to glide it back to your clit and the pace he set was cruel. You didn’t know if it was lack of experience or because he was trying to be mean, but he was rough with your clit, rolling circles around it with one finger your hips stuttering and legs threatening to give out from under you as you struggled to stand.

You were begging him but his hand blocked any clarity from your words, your hands finding grip on his forearm across your chest trying to pull it from your mouth. It made you realise how strong Barou was, he was solid, unmoving and had you against him with no match on his strength. His finger suddenly dipped down to your hole and pushed in to the knuckle, your eyes widened and you screamed under his palm, his lips pressed to your temple, tears blurred your vision from the over stimulation and the need to cum.

“Not so cocky now are you?” You weren’t expecting him to roll his hips into your lower back, hard cock gliding along your spine above your ass, “You’re cryin’ from a finger, how you gonna take this?”

“Mock me again and I’ll put you in your place, nod if you understand and I’ll let you cum.”

Tears had spilled down your cheeks at this point, weaving between his fingers mixing with your drool under it and guilt hit him, his ego too large to back down resulting in him kissing your cheeks, kissing the tears away and giving you a shhh to try and sooth you. When you finally nodded he sighed and pulled his finger from your pussy, pad rolling back to your clit where he ran soothing circles around it. A relieved sigh left you under his hand, soft moans vibrating against his skin and his only sign before you came was your hips starting to roll desperately.

“Nod if you’re gonna cum,” you did and he hummed against you, picking up his pace, “-cum f’me then.”

Barou groaned against you as your body stuttered against him, your hands gripping his thighs behind you to support yourself and he caught you when you went slack in his arms, pulling his hand from your mouth he hooked it around your waist to hold you up. The other from your pussy he rose it to his mouth cleaning his fingers off.

“Shit, you taste good.”

The slamming on his door made you both jump and his grip on you tightened in response.

“Big brother! Mummy and Daddy are home, so stop smooching your girlfriend!!”

“Fuck-“

“Don’t swear big brother!”

“Get lost brat!”

You heard some kind of grumble under her breath as one of his sisters stomped off back down the stairs, seeing Barou flustered was rare and watching him grab clothes to put on, hard dick bouncing with each stride made you cackle. Earning a glare over his shoulders as he pulled a top on.

“Fuck you find so funny?”

You shrugged and adjusted your shorts before pulling your pony tail back to to tidy up.

“You’re still hard-“

“Yeah? No shit,”

Barou sneered under his breath as he sat on the bed to pull his socks on, dressing to go out on a run to match your attire because apparently that’ll hide the suspicion of both your flustered faces. You walked over and leaned down, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“I like your hair down, never seen it like this before. You’re real handsome you know that?”

He blushed, Barou Shouei fucking blushed, you didn’t mock or tease him on it, your soft eyes looking directly at his and they had a teary glaze over them. He blinked at you in surprise before rolling his eyes and returning back to his socks.

“Know its my birthday but stop with the crap. Coulda just got me some damn cleaning stuff, I don’t need all the compliments n’shit.”

His voice was low, trying to sound harsh but he just couldn’t, he just wanted to try and deflect that damn look on your face because it looked like some girl looking at the love of her life in corny romance show. His nerves kicked under his skin, his heart racing and he felt the heat in his cheeks but when he watched your eyes glisten and he hated it.

He’d known you since he was 12, he’s bullied you, called you all sorts of names. Hell he’s seen other girls get nasty to you but you’ve never cried, you’ve never had those pretty eyes glisten with tears.

He stood, rare concern suddenly fleeting over him and he cupped your face, thumbs wiping over your cheeks as the tears spilled down them, for a second he thought it was him -maybe he was too rough with you, too forceful and let his ego drive him.

“M’sorry its so fucking stupid,”

Barou Shouei was a deep thinker, his mind raced more than he let off and it started to, to the point a fleeting thought of you breaking up with him actually surfaced by his building paranoia. Even if it didn’t make fucking sense that you would, it still annoyingly crossed his mind.

“What’s stupid?”

“I think I’m in love with you, B.”

Shouei stopped breathing, he froze, eyes widening as they locked with your glassy ones and you laughed through crying.

“Happy Birthday, Barou!” You mumbled through silly tears, trying so hard to deflect it with your shitty humour but watching you laugh through tears almost made a smile form on his own mouth.

“The hell you damn cryin’bout it you idiot?”

You opened your mouth to respond but his covered yours before you could start blabbering something out to him, the kiss was slow and messy but it was his own way of responding to your confession. He could taste himself on your tongue, mixed with that cherry lip balm and he groaned into you.

“You’re my girl,” he spoke against your mouth before planting a kiss to your forehead and pushing you towards the door.

—0—

Blue lock was a shock.

It wasn’t easy to suddenly have Barou gone from your life when you were so used to having him around for the last seven years, but perhaps it was a good thing. Soccer was his priority and you knew that from day one, you never thought you were above it and quite frankly you didn’t care. Some of your girlfriends didn’t get it, perhaps they were more needy, wanting to enjoy their youths with boys and having that American dream. Driving in cars late and night, recreating the titanic scene with the steam window and hand prints.

You used the opportunity to do the same as Barou and that was focus on yourself, you concentrated on your studies you perused what you wanted and you taught yourself not to rely on him.

You sent him a text every Friday about your week, you sent him texts when you were horny, you sent photos, videos but there was never a delivered messaged, never a response. You tried to keep positive, you tried to not let his lack of existence bother you.

But it was hard, some nights you teared up and called yourself selfish, sometimes you scolded him for not even trying to contact you. What kept you going was coffee and that his future was about to take off with the dreams he had.

He simply had to do it and you knew he’d be recognised, he’d be successful.

The day he called without much to say was the day you knew something was up with him.

You laughed as you hung up and sure enough after he earned his phone back that day, after he asked for a photo of just you -nothing sexual, nothing crude, just a simple photo of you in a summer dress you knew he was missing you.

He never told you he loved you back but you never felt unloved by him.

He’d text you occasionally, sounding blunt and trying to come across like texting was taxing on his time, even though he was the one who often messaged first. Waking up at an ungodly hour to say good morning and texting before you even ate with a goodnight.

When the two weeks off from Blue Lock arrived and Barou appeared at your new apartment, moving out of your family home and the visit was anything but tame. You’d still not had sex before he left and he was about to change it, hearing some of the guys talking in the lockers, seeing your messages and photos, missing you in general made for a messy and truthfully painful first experience.

“Gotta let me in,” his third finger entered you, twisting before spreading them and you bucked up into him, panting as you gripped the pillows behind you, “-think I’m gonna fit if you're this tight around my fingers? Open up girl,”

His tongue pressed against your clit and your eyes rolled back, pussy spread out from his fingers exposing your hardened bundle of nerves to him.

“M’cumming Barou!”

He hummed against your clit, red eyes peering up at you from your pussy as his tongue swirled on you, watching your chest heaving, body stuttering as you came down from another high.

Barou withdrew his fingers, wrapping it around his cock and he pumped a few times, spreading slick across the head of his dick before pressing it to your entrance.

“You got the birth control, right?”

You nodded dumbly, still panting from orgasm and almost too fucked out to process that he’d pressed his thick head to your already swollen hole, until he started to push forward and you tensed at the stretch. Barou clicked his tongue, eyes focused on wanting to watch his dick sink into you for the first time, it flexed at the thought of being the one to spread you open.

But your struggle made something conflicting lurch in his chest.

“I-I know you wanna watch b, I need your help though —it’s too big.”

He groaned at your pleading tone, damn well melting for you and sourly reminding him just how easily he’d put you first compared to anyone else in his life, including himself.

Barou shifted, one arm resting above your head to hover over you, the other moved down to press a thumb to your clit and your hips bucked at the sensitivity.

“Look at me,”

You did as he asked, teary eyes meeting his and you hiked your knees higher up his sides, one leg curling around his back, sitting next to your hand gripping his ass, the other holding his wrist to tug it off your clit, lacing his fingers through yours and placing it near your head.

Pushing his hips forward until his thick head pushed through and you moaned, Barou inhaled sharply, restraining himself from just burying himself into the hilt. You were so damn warm and it was sucking him in, that moan was only spurring him to test his self control.

“S’it, let her suck me in, she wants it, so let me damn well give it and stop being a fuckin’ tease.”

He felt you relax and he took the opportunity, bullying the rest of his way in and pressing into you balls deep. Burying his face into your neck as his hips stuttered, airy moan breathed onto your skin. Your teeth met his shoulder, biting down on him muffling your pained whimper at the burn.

He stilled himself, fighting himself to not cum as you clamped around him letting you adjust before he gave a test thrust, one turning into two before he set a pace that had your cunt squelching under him in no time. Your hips rolling to meet his and he realised watching your face, your expressions and doe eyes all fucked out was a better first image to have of you like this for the first time.

Barou watched as your head tilted back, a noise he’d never heard leave you as you moaned in a way that was borderline unholy, it sent a pulse to his cock, flexing it inside you and spurred him to thrust harder.

“Make that noise again-“ he felt you tighten around him, still keeping your head tilted and your body tensed, “that’s it huh? Right here?”

You nodded and babbled at him, slurring words to encourage him not to stop, the slapping of his wet balls hitting your ass, cunt swallowing him sloppily as he hit that spot over and over until you came around him for the first time, your hands blinding reaching for him in support as you literally convulsed, eyes rolling back and toes curling.

“Atta girl,” he groaned into your neck as your body fell slack, breathing heavy under him and his pace turned feral. Chasing his own end and using you under him to catch it, the only reason he lasted this long was because you’d sucked the life from him before this.

You always got so wet with his cock in your mouth, he loved how much you loved it, wrapping your arms around his thighs, sliding his thick cock down your throat like a pro. He’d cum so hard he ended up pushing you off him because you wouldn’t stop, finding it funny he was jolting under you from overstimulation, making a noise he’d never heard leave him before; some beggy whine that made you moan on his cock.

He didn’t like mess, but hell he loved seeing his cock buried in your mouth with his cum drooling out.

“B-Barou I’m gonna cum again! Don’t stop! There, there, fuck harder please! Cum in me, fill me up!”

He groaned at your babbling, tears spilling down your cheeks, your breath hitching when he gave you a harder thrust that had you looking at him a little worried.

“Who you think you’re barking orders at huh?” He was panty, breathy as he spoke but his voice still so deep, little bite behind it as he felt himself about to cum.

“You want me to fill you up? Best hold it in, don’t fucking waste it.” You nodded dumbly, desperately at him.

“Hah- I won’t, I’m cumming, I’m gonna -I love you, fuck you’re so b-big,”

He smiled at you, heart hammering in his ribs; you were all his.

—0—

‘Rising star Barou Shouei and potential love interest sighted again!’

Barou’s career took off at 19, three years a now. Both at twenty two years old and you knew better than to be easily swayed by headliners. You ignored posts flying around the internet but this was the third time in a month a photo was posted with the same girl and this one was hard to ignore when she had her arm gripped around his bicep.

He hardly looked amused, if anything he looked annoyed but that wasn’t exactly a rare expression for him to present when dealing with anyone, even you at times you were sure of it.

You chewed the inside of your cheek between biting your nails, anxiety suddenly flooding you about how exactly you should handle this, you didn’t know his team mates to question them or ask if you should be worried, quite frankly you’d never met anyone in this new team of his.

He wouldn’t do this.. it’s just not Barou. Cheating just isn’t his thing, he values himself too highly for it.

You ignored the notification bars at the top of your phone, pinging from different girl friends who were sending different emojis to express anger, guessing they’d forwarded the recent post to you to see.

But when Barou’s caller ID came in, covering your entire screen you let out a yelp and flung the phone across to the sofa from where you were sat, holding your breath as it rang and exhaling heavily when it stopped. Placing your hand on your heart feeling it thumping against your ribs.

Shit.

Shit why did you do that?

It rang again but you had frozen in your place, your brain telling you to answer him but your body just wouldn’t move, the only relief was when it stopped ringing.

The pinging of texts began and you picked the phone back up, watching as Barou started to message.

B > Answer your damn phone,

B > Oi! Woman you wanted me to call at seven.

You thumbs clumsily flew across the screen, your bubble showing as typing and it took Barou less than five seconds to hit the call button again.

“H-Hey B, sorry I-uh,”

“The fuck you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re doing summit you shouldn’t be, you not been using that damn toy again have you? Told you not to use it unless I’m-“

“N-No! I wasn’t doing that, Jesus Christ Barou what if someone heard you!?”

“Why? You with someone?”

“No. Aren’t you?”

Your hand slapped across your mouth when the words left you in a snarky tone, your annoyance getting the better of you before you could stop it, a heavy sigh left him breaking the tension, his gruff voice quieter than usual.

“Ignore that bullshit online, she’s the new physio for the team, just clingy as hell.”

“So, she just gets her hands all over you when I’m not there?”

“Well yeah, she’s does treatment and sports massage, it’s no big deal. Stop with the crybaby shit, it ain’t like you.”

Oblivious freaking idiot. Your phone tucked between your shoulder and head, because your hands wrung an invisible neck in front of you like Homer with Bart.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just me being a brat huh? M’gonna go Barou, I’m tired. speak to you in a few days when you’re not so busy with your team or new physio.”

The line going dead was far from a pleasant feeling, heart dropping to his stomach he stared at the home screen of his phone, that pretty photo of you in a sundress he’d changed back in blue lock three years ago. Barou being shocked was rare, you were both twenty two now and you’d never acted like this in ten years. It felt different, his guy was screaming at him leaving it to sit heavy in his stomach.

You’d never gone to bed without saying goodnight, you’d never got angry to the point where you’d literally shut him off and he needed more fingers to count the amount of times he had said something shitty. You usually fired back, that stubbornness you had and that he found always so endearing.

Opening up the chat of you both he stared at your name, but you never came back online.

It didn’t stop him sending a text goodnight though.

When he woke to no routine good morning text, despite you having read his goodnight text at 5am it gave a sour start to his day. He didn’t do anything wrong, you were throwing a damn tantrum over nothing so he opted to give you space.

“Heh, trouble in paradise aye?”

Barou only side glared at snuffy, ignoring his attempt of conversation as the striker sat in front of the obnoxiously large tv playing whatever film took his fancy this evening whilst stretching himself out.

“Showed in your training today,”

“If you’re just here to talk shit then fuck off, I ain’t in the mood.”

Taking a seat on the sofa behind Barou, he hummed and watched the tv.

“Didn’t wanna say back along but kinda figured this would happen, girls are a distraction y’know?”

“Didn’t see you looking troubled in the hot tub photos of ya with them girls, go preach to Aiku, my girl ain’t your concern.”

“Wrong-“ Snuffy twirled the remote to the tv around in his hand, starting to flick through the channels, “-anything that runs a risk to my team playin’ is my concern. ‘Sides whilst we’re on the topic, you not thought about other girls? Instead of being with the same one? Haven’t you been with her for like, forever?”

“Sixteen and no.”

“Or not thought about how feels with you being away more than with her? Long distance is such a drag, you’re both missing out on life.”

The statement didn’t trigger Barou to think about himself, he was living his goals in life and thriving, coming back to you was a reward, a comfort he’d always known so he wasn’t trouble by any of it. But he’d never once stopped to think about you and your life at home, waiting for him to come back whilst he was off travelling the world. You never complained, you never seemed sad and always supported him, but was it all a front? Was he stopping you from living as freely as he was? He hated the thought of someone else making you happy, someone else taking his position and being around you more than he was -someone else fucking you and seeing that dumb, love struck look you gave him.

He’d never even told you he loved you back, he never felt he needed to because you just got him in ways no one else did.. but if he couldn’t even give you that, how could he give you the type of relationship you deserved?

You deserved everything and more.

“I guess we’re all different, I know I sure as hell couldn’t do it. one of the guys overheard your conversation about the new physio, the media has been in a frenzy about it so putting two and two together isn’t difficult. But fix it, it’s affecting your play and you’re headlining at the moment, don’t let this ruin your high.”

—0—

You never called him back and he hated it.

He really fucking hated it.

But instead of biting the bullet and making the move himself Barou festered and festered. His focus on football made the days go quickly but the evenings were agonisingly slow and his red eyes drifted to his phone in hopes to see your name more than he’d like to admit.

Despite his stubbornness in making the move, because Barou Shouei would never chase anyone, he was starting to wonder if this was for the best. Perhaps you’d both been together too long it just became a habit, something he was so used to that he never thought about anything else or anyone else.

Did that mean he was holding you back? Were you being selfless and he selfish?

His move to Italy wasn’t exactly a great distance to be at when things like this happened, you were both so far apart that it was difficult to just reach out, Barou didn’t think long distance was much of an issue until something went wrong.

“Hey Barou, it’s time for your physio!”

The man sucked his teeth, not particularly in the mood to deal with this girl who’d been causing havoc in his relationship.

Oliver came out groaning, swinging his shoulders and arms like tension had been released.

“She’s so good, honestly babe those hands are magic.”

She giggled at him and waved him off trying to act modest and Barou sent a harsh glare towards both.

“I’ll skip tonight, hands ain’t going anywhere near me after touching that slime ball, fuck knows what’s over your hands.”

She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

“I bought all new hand sanitizers and wipes Shouei so get your butt in there!”

Oliver elbowed him and gave a wink, suggestive and mocking, something that made Barou’s fist curl into a ball.

“You’d be shit in a threesome,”

“Get fucked fuckboy.”

“Eh, that’s suggestive-“ Oliver recoiled with false disgust, “-you really would be shit, didn’t know you swung both ways. I ain’t into that man, only bottom I’m ever being is under a pretty girl.”

“Will you shut up? You’re disgusting.”

“You’re such grump! When was the last time you got laid or you still arguing with miss perfect? She’s wasted on you y’know, man she’s wife material, imagine the attention she gets when you ain’t there.”

Barou’s fist swung so quickly it gave zero time for Aiku to get away, just managing to miss the worst of the punch it still grazed his cheek. What he wasn’t expecting was Barou’s knee to end up in his stomach, the man urged from the impact shocked that Shouei actually managed to land a hit on him. Then slightly impressed by the fact it took more than half the team to hold him back, even then he made their feet move.

“Shouei, that’s enough!”

Perhaps Aiku had pushed a little more than he should have, but he kinda found it hard to ignore when he’d heard about trouble in paradise with you both, he hoped his taunt would spur Barou into contacting you… that it would stop his tantrum, get his head out his ass and get his head back in the game.

Cause even Aiku had seen the worth in you and Barou losing that would be foolish.

He just didn’t realise how much worse it had made it instead.

—0—

On day four in lack of communication with your boyfriend left you feeling heavy and guilty. Finding yourself sat at home staring at a letter that had arrived this morning, you graduated your degree yesterday, passing your courses and got a placement to be a paramedic.

You should be celebrating, you should be happy. Maybe out with friends, others who graduated and family. Your Mother, Father and Brother had attended the graduation and you were hoping Barou would have been there, you weren’t expecting him to be nor blamed him because he was in Italy following his own career dreams.

You never stopped him, you never expected him to detour from his focus and knew it required the majority of his time.

A small, selfish part of you was wishing he could have just paused just once to share it with you, a small part of you told yourself how amazing it would have been if him not contacting you was because he was flying back to secretly turn up at the graduation. Instead due to your stubbornness in not calling him back, you hadn’t even received a phone call or text or say congratulations.. was this your fault? Had you been a little too sensitive and dramatic about it? Were you being paranoid for no reason? You’d never been threatened by girls with him before, so why was this bothering you so?

Your gaze returned to your phone sat in your hands, silent and cold, the screen black from being untouched and you knew if you unlocked the phone it would show Barou’s contact details.

Because you’d been hovering over the call button for the last thirty minutes after opening the incredible offer letter in front of you.

It was frustrating that he didn’t seem to understand why you were annoyed and hurt, which was ridiculous because he didn’t even actually do anything wrong besides dismiss how you felt. It didn’t help either that only yesterday another photo was posted of him and the teams new physio yet again named as his potential girlfriend.

Funny how you never seen photos of her with the other boys in the team.

Nice to see that he wasn’t even trying to solve it.

You didn’t realise you were crying until little drops fell onto your black screen, your vision clouding as they filled your eyes finally springing free.

Sometimes you just needed a good cry right? Maybe it would be a good idea to get it out now before you called him, it would make it less likely you’d cry on the phone right?

The thought of letting go for a minute was enough to let the tears erupt to a sob, one of those ugly cries you needed to get out your system and you started to feel better after another thirty minutes of crying.

You wiped your tears beforing shoving your hair into a messy bun, sudden courage in you springing forth now the silliness was out of the way. A face of determination as you wiped against at your face before slapping your cheeks.

“C’mon girl, you’re being silly. It’s now or never!”

You grabbed your phone and didn’t give yourself a second of hesitation in clicking the call button.

It felt like it rang forty times, feeling ever so dramatic and like time had slowed because it only took three rings for Barou to answer.

Okay.

Good start, he answered super fast.

“Heeeeeey! Shouei’s phone!”

Your jaw dropped at the girls voice, your breath hitched in your throat and you were pretty sure your eyes almost fell out their sockets like something from Tom and Jerry.

Your voice failed you, the movement and voices turning into nothing but muffled noises because your heart was thumping so loudly in your chest your ribs were vibrating.

Fuck why were you sweating all of a sudden? Why did you feel so hot?

Christ almighty were you about to be sick?

A deeper voice calling your name eventually brought you back, you had no idea how many times Barou had said it only that by the time you registered it was him saying it you noticed concern lacing into it, because when Barou was concerned he sounded kinda pissed off like he wasn’t quite able to handle the uncertainty of something, like when his control and confidence slipped he faltered.

“Uh, I’m sorry didnt mean to- uh, I didn’t mean to bother you? I’m sorry I just, I’m sorry, we can talk later I -“

You babbled, you stumbled and you over apologised for something you didn’t even need to apologise for.

Fuck it should be him!

The fuck were you saying sorry for?!

His voice was calm, stern and trying to keep the situation from escalating he called your name in a way that brought tears to your eyes.

Fuck good was all that crying for if you were getting so easily overwhelmed like this?!

“Oi, you trust me right?”

Your hand clasped over your mouth before you could say anything, along with hiding the sob behind it but Barou heard.

You heard a door closing on his end, you heard him moving somewhere.

Did you trust him? You were overwhelmed, far too emotional at the moment and confused to even answer that, you faltered because it was all too much.

You wanted to say yes you trusted him, you wanted to speak, to talk to him about the offer letter because it would be a good thing to discuss, it was good timing.

But your sob broke through the silence again.

“Hey, don’t do that shit-“ he was quiet, his voice still carrying his usual deepness but there was something added into it you’d never heard from him, almost soothing, caring and it made you sob harder because it reminded you when you told him you loved him and silly cried over it, stupid emotions! Why couldn’t they just let you be strong for five minutes?!

“-we need to talk, huh.”

“Yeah,”

Your heart plummeted into your stomach, its fight to stay in your chest lost as the acid crept into it, churning in your stomach as your gut was telling you where this was going, your heart unable to fight or resist any longer.

“It ain’t gonna work like this, you deserve better-“

How fucking dare he.

Rage wasn’t something you felt often, it wasn’t in your personality to get angry like this, feeling it burn under your skin and desperate to act out physically. In fact the last time you remember feeling like this was when you kicked the ball into 12 year old Barou’s face for degrading your younger brother.

It suddenly became easier to hold yourself together a little better, focusing on feeling more angry than upset, them moving together in some aid to feed your fiery side.

“-if that’s what you want, Shouei.”

You were sure the lingering echo of tears and upset still clung to your tone, regardless of how strong you sounded on your side your lip was wobbling and your eyes were blurring with tears.

“I dunno what I want.”

“If it’s got to that point, then that’s the answer for us both.”

His silence was disturbing and it was only giving you room to allow another crying session to break through the very thin self restraint holding it back.

So you took control.

“Take care Shouei, all the best to you and her.”

“Oi, I ain’t with her, it ain’t like that I told you to ignore that shit in the med-“

Call ended.

Red eyes stayed down at his phone cutting off back to his background of you, hanging up on him before he was even able to finish his sentence, the regret already firing through his stomach as the heaviness of guilt made even his strong shoulders hunch.

Fuck, what the fuck did he just do?

Barou flicked to your name in his call log, thumb not even hesitating over your name as he went to call you back.

Sorry this number is not available, please call back later.

Never one for caring about social media until this moment he went to yours, still having accessing to it he scanned through going to click the message button, stopping himself when he realised why you deserved better, deserved someone who would give you the time you should have.

seeing your photos of your graduation yesterday and being so wrapped up on his own shit he hadn’t even reached out; he didn’t even remember it. Isagi commented on it, of course he fucking did but Aikueven acknowledged your achievement in the comments, he didn’t know you even knew Aiku.

He locked his phone, throwing it onto his bed and pinching the bridge of his nose to try take away the sting flaring through it, his throat running dry as his vision suddenly blurred.

He cleared his throat, fighting away any progress on that happening he never even cried as a baby!

Perhaps this was for the best, even if it felt wrong.

The feeling would pass with time.

Right?

—0—

You removed Barou on socials, blocking his number and ways to contact until you felt ready to face the music, coming off socials as well to avoid actually seeing anymore posts.

You needed to learn to be selfish now and focus on yourself, start a life without Barou and maybe learn some new things about yourself, pushing yourself out your comfort zone would be the first place to start… after devouring tubs of ice cream and sobbing over titanic on repeat.

Jack could have damn well fit on that door!

You could already hear the lyrics at the back of your mind, ready to messily sing along to Near, far, wherever you are believe that the heart does go on, once more, you open the door, and ou're here in my heart and my heart will go on and on.

Oh it was gonna happen, you were gonna be a mess.

You sat numbly looking at the letter in front of you through blurry tears looking like a blotch of white on your coffee table. You had options to be placed abroad for two year’s experience, you didn’t think your option of Italy would actually get offered, your second choice was England.

You’d got the highest marks and worked your ass off to improve your chances to get your offer, but the idiot Shouei wouldn’t ever know anything about that would he.

Now all you had to do was decide a box to tick.

You were calling Barou to tell him you could accept Italy, that for the first time in your lives you could be together longer than a few weeks at a time, maybe finally move in together.

Once again your life was moving towards him, because of him and it needed to stop.

England might be a refreshing option.

You’re pretty sure Isagi had friends there on another soccer team, Nagi was it?

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

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I'm reading the part in ACOSF where they discuss Rice becoming High King and... Help? "P/rythian would be blessed to have such leaders" uuuuhm NOPE. Pretty much any other high lord would be a better choice. T/amlin would be a better choice. You know what, T/amlin would definitely be a better choice. In ACOTAR it said that Fae and other beings who for whatever reason could not / did not want to live in their courts have fled to the Spring Court. From a logical point of view, this means that T/amlin was a passable ruler before A/marantha, that there was prosperity and openness in his country and he has experience in getting Fae from seven different courts under one roof. I am against this High King stuff, but if it has to happen then Tamlin should go to therapy and get the job.

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

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modern Tamsand👩🏻‍🦯

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

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tamtam in the shibari is good🧎🏻‍♀️

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

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What if acotar antagonists got the same level of justification as our 'heroes' from the Night Court did?

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

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The only reason I believe the acotar books are fantasy and not horror because if I were tamlin and an illiterate-barely-legal girl tried to ruin my court I would have BOMBED the night court. You bitches would have seen female rage. Mary curie would have had NOTHING on me. Uranium discovered on the SPOT.

Send tweet.

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

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I often think about that moment where lucien comes up to tamlin after the war and tamlin just walks away without a word because up until that point tamlin hadn’t seen lucien since he left.He’d spent this whole time believing lucien had betrayed him and he knew he was staying at the night court but now he’s seeing lucien for the first time in weeks and suddenly it’s so real.Lucien is right there but he’s not standing by his side like he has for years—no he’s standing across from him right next to his enemies,their enemies,the very same people who destroyed the spring court,and he’s on their side wearing their clothes showing everybody exactly where his new loyalties lie.He’s one of them now.And the betrayal is so blatant and the pain of it too deep that tamlin can do nothing other than walk away.

“Loathing simmering in his green eyes”. “The guilt,the devastation,flicker in that russet eye.”

THE ANGST ?????????????

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

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“She spent five hundred gold marks in a single night.” Cassian’s voice was tight with barely restrained frustration, his wings flaring slightly behind him.

Rhysand, seated at the head of the table, leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. “On wine and gambling.” His tone was measured, but the weight of it pressed down on the room like a storm gathering on the horizon.

“She’s reckless,” Amren added, swirling a goblet of deep red wine. “It isn’t just the money. It’s the drinking, the behavior. She doesn’t care what happens to herself, and that makes her dangerous.”

Mor scoffed. “I walked past her the other day, and she didn’t even look like she knew where she was.” She turned her gaze to Feyre. “You saw her, didn’t you? She looked awful—worse than usual.”

Feyre hesitated. “She… hasn’t been well.”

“That’s an understatement,” Cassian muttered. “I tried talking to her again. She wouldn’t even look at me. Just—just walked past like I wasn’t even there.” His jaw tightened. “If she keeps going like this, she’s going to get herself killed.”

Silence settled, heavy and expectant. Then Rhysand exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Maybe it’s time we take action. Real action. We can’t just let her drink and waste away.”

“What are you saying?” Feyre asked carefully.

“We should consider… containing her,” Rhys said slowly. “Not forever. Just until she gets herself under control.”

The words dropped into the room like a stone into deep water.

Amren nodded. “It might be the only way.”

Mor hummed her agreement. Cassian looked away, jaw clenched.

Then—

“No.”

The voice was soft, but it cut through the room like a blade.

Elain.

She sat straight-backed, her hands folded in her lap, but her brown eyes burned with quiet fury. “You’re talking about locking her up. Like a prisoner.”

Rhysand met her gaze. “If that’s what it takes—”

“No,” Elain said again, her voice stronger this time. “You’re all talking about her like she’s a problem to be dealt with. Like she isn’t Nesta.”

“Elain,” Feyre began, cautious.

Elain shook her head. “She’s grieving. She’s hurting. And instead of helping her, all of you want to punish her for it.” Her hands curled into fists. “You think she doesn’t know what you say about her? That she doesn’t see the way you look at her?” She turned to Cassian. “She walks past you because she knows you think she’s a lost cause.”

Cassian flinched as if struck.

Elain looked back at Rhysand, her delicate features set in rare, unyielding defiance. “You would never do this to Feyre. You would never do this to me.”

A cold silence stretched between them.

Elain’s voice softened, but the steel remained. “Nesta is drowning, and you want to throw her into a cage instead of reaching for her.” She shook her head. “I won’t let you.”

Rhysand studied her, unreadable, but there was something dark and considering in his violet eyes.

“Elain,” he said at last, “this isn’t about punishing her.”

“Isn’t it?” Elain countered, her voice steady. “You say it’s for her own good, but how is taking away her freedom supposed to help her? You think she’ll come out of it grateful? That she’ll suddenly be the person you all want her to be?”

No one answered.

Elain shook her head, disgust creeping into her expression. “You are all so used to solving things with force that you don’t even consider another way.” Her gaze flickered to Cassian, then to Feyre. “Nesta doesn’t need to be locked away. She needs someone to listen. Someone who doesn’t just expect her to be… different.”

“She won’t let anyone help her,” Cassian said, voice raw. “What are we supposed to do, Elain? Just watch her destroy herself?”

Elain’s hands trembled in her lap, but she lifted her chin. “You don’t stop someone from drowning by tying their hands behind their back. You jump in after them.”

A long silence.

Feyre exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples, as if a headache had begun to pound behind her eyes. “Then what do you suggest, Elain?”

Elain hesitated—because she didn’t have all the answers. Because she was afraid. Afraid that no matter what she did, Nesta would slip away, and there would be no pulling her back.

But she knew one thing.

“I’ll go to her,” she said. “I’ll talk to her.”

Cassian scoffed. “You think she’ll listen to you?”

Elain turned to him, her brown eyes flashing. “She listens to no one because no one speaks to her as if she still matters. As if she’s more than a burden. You all act as if she’s already lost. But she’s not.”

She swallowed hard. “She’s still here.”

Rhysand watched her, calculating, and for a moment, she wondered if he would dismiss her outright. If he would remind her, as he always did, that she was quiet and gentle and not enough to handle this.

But something in his expression shifted, his gaze flickering to Feyre, then to Cassian, then back to Elain.

At last, he said, “Fine.”

Elain released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Rhysand’s voice was cool, firm. “You have one week, Elain. If Nesta gets worse—or if she refuses to listen—you will step aside, and we will handle this our way.”

It wasn’t a victory. Not really.

But Elain nodded.

Because a week was all she needed.

Elain turned on her heel, her skirts brushing against the stone floor as she strode toward the door. Her hands were trembling, her heart a furious drum in her chest, but she refused to let them see it. Refused to let them know how much she felt—how much it hurt to sit there and listen to them talk about Nesta like she was nothing more than an inconvenience, a problem to be solved.

She reached for the door handle, but before she could push it open, Feyre’s voice cut through the silence.

“Elain, wait.”

She didn’t.

But Feyre was quick, catching up to her in a few swift steps, her fingers brushing Elain’s arm. “Please,” she said softly.

Elain stopped.

She didn’t turn, didn’t look at Feyre, only stared at the dark wood of the door before her. A long breath slipped from her lips. “Are you going to try to convince me I’m wrong?”

Feyre hesitated, her fingers flexing at her side. “No.” A pause. “I just… I don’t want you to leave like this.”

Elain finally turned, her expression carefully composed. “Like what?”

Feyre’s lips parted, then pressed into a thin line. She searched Elain’s face, as if trying to decipher something unreadable in her soft features.

“Angry,” Feyre admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this angry.”

Elain let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Maybe because I finally decided to say something instead of sitting there like a pretty decoration.”

Feyre flinched. “That’s not—”

“But it’s what you all think, isn’t it?” Elain cut her off, tilting her head slightly. “That I’m soft. That I’m incapable of anything real.” She let the words hang between them before shaking her head. “Nesta is the strongest person I’ve ever known, and even she couldn’t come out of this unscathed. But you all expect her to just… be fine. Or at least be someone you can understand.”

Feyre swallowed. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Elain agreed, voice steady. “It’s not.”

For a long moment, Feyre just stared at her. Really stared at her.

Then, softer, “You love her.”

Elain closed her eyes for half a heartbeat. “Of course I do.”

Feyre shifted, exhaling. “I love her too, Elain. That’s why I’m scared.”

Elain finally let her own fear show, just for a moment. “Then help me.”

Feyre hesitated, her weight shifting between her feet. Then, carefully, she said, “What about Solstice?”

Elain stiffened, her hand still on the doorframe.

Feyre pressed on. “You were angry with her then. You didn’t even look at her when you gave her your gift. You barely spoke to her.”

Elain exhaled sharply through her nose, her grip tightening. “And?”

“And now you’re standing here, furious with us for the way we talk about her. You say we don’t try to help her, but you were angry too. You were—”

“Hurt,” Elain said flatly. “I was hurt, Feyre.” She turned back slightly, just enough for her sister to see the quiet storm brewing in her brown eyes. “Because I waited for her. I waited for her to come back, to see me, to be my sister again. And she never did.”

Feyre’s throat bobbed. “I know.”

Elain let out a sharp laugh. “Do you? Because you had Cassian. You had Rhys. You had people who refused to let you slip away.” She shook her head, voice bitter. “No one did that for her.”

Feyre flinched. “That’s not true.”

Elain raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”

Feyre ran a hand through her hair, exhaling. “I just—I don’t understand how you can forgive her so easily when she—”

“I never said I forgave her,” Elain interrupted. Her voice was quiet, but it cut like a blade. “I am angry with her. I’m angry that she pushed me away. That she let herself sink so deep I couldn’t reach her. That she makes it so damn hard to love her sometimes.”

Feyre’s brow furrowed. “Then why—”

“Because she’s still my sister,” Elain said fiercely. “Because she’s still there—whether or not any of you want to see her.” Her voice wavered, but she lifted her chin. “Because I know what it’s like to want to disappear, to feel like you don’t belong anywhere. And I wouldn’t have survived it if I didn’t have her. If I didn’t have someone who fought for me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Feyre opened her mouth, then closed it again, something breaking in her gaze.

Elain turned fully to her now, softer, but still unyielding. “Nesta is drowning, Feyre. You don’t have to be the one to save her. But at least let me try.”

A long silence stretched between them.

Then Feyre nodded.

And Elain walked away.

Elain didn’t even know where she was going.

Her feet carried her forward, down the halls, through the open doors and past the wide, moonlit terraces, but there was no destination. Only movement. Only the rush of blood in her ears, the jittering nerves making her hands tremble at her sides.

She had never spoken like that before. Not to them. Not to Feyre.

Anger still coiled hot in her chest, but beneath it, curling in the shadows of her heart, was something else—something sharp and aching. Guilt.

Because Nesta had left her. Nesta had built a wall so thick between them that Elain could no longer find the way through. But there had been a time—there had been a time—when Nesta had been the one to keep her upright. When Nesta had stayed.

The memory slammed into her, sudden and brutal.

She had been nothing after the Cauldron. A shell, a ghost, something vacant and quiet and wrong. And in those first awful days, she had not spoken, had not moved, had not tried to live.

But Nesta had been there.

Elain could still feel the weight of her sister’s hand, firm but gentle, guiding a spoon to her lips when she refused to eat. Could still hear the soft, even voice that coaxed her into the bath, into clean clothes, into existing, when she would have wasted away.

She remembered how Nesta would place a hand on her back, warm and grounding, whenever Elain wandered too close to the edge of the balcony. Never pulling, never forcing—just a silent tether keeping her from stepping too far, from slipping over into the dark.

And now… now Nesta was the one teetering on the edge, and no one was holding her back.

Elain exhaled shakily, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked, as if she could push down the guilt pressing against her ribs. Because she had been angry too. Because she had turned away.

Because when Nesta had withdrawn, when she had become sharp and cruel and reckless, Elain had let herself believe it meant her sister no longer cared.

But Elain knew what it was like to disappear inside herself.

And she knew Nesta had never let her stay lost.

So Elain would not let her stay lost either.

Elain had a week.

Rhysand had given her that much—one week to reach Nesta before they decided to lock her away.

She only needed a day. Maybe two.

Because Elain wasn’t going to waste her time arguing with Nesta, trying to coax her into changing, into staying here, where everyone watched her like she was already lost. No, Elain had made her decision the moment she walked out of that room.

She was leaving.

And Nesta was coming with her.

The thought steadied her, solidified something in her chest. Nesta would resist, of course. She would sneer, would lash out, would tell Elain she was wasting her time. But Elain had spent too long being patient, being soft, waiting for someone else to reach Nesta first.

No more waiting.

Elain quickened her steps, already thinking of what they would need. They couldn’t stay in Velaris, not with Rhysand’s watchful eyes, not with Cassian and Feyre trying to interfere. No, they would go far. Somewhere Nesta could breathe, somewhere no one expected her to be anything but herself.

Elain didn’t know exactly where that was yet.

But she would find it.

Nesta had saved her once. Had held her above the dark waters threatening to pull her under.

Now it was Elain’s turn.

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sushijimaaa · 3 months ago

Text

The Heir of Spring

Tamlin x Archeron!Reader

Summary: When one of Feyre's sisters' stabs Tamlin in the arm, the male took a strange liking to her, he had hoped she had been the one to kill the wolf he could love her ferocity; only she wasn't but she tracked Feyre through the woods and into the Fae realms to show up on Tamlin's doorstep. The rest is history as the two fall in love and start their own family.

Prompt: Heir Of Spring

Warnings: War, violence, blood, family disagreements, feyre and rhys slander, nesta and elain slander kind of.

Word Count: 5,402

Notes: A bit smaller but a good start to Tamlin week, this may be a thing I revisit and do a prologue or multiple parts to delving more into their day to day and relationships since this is cannon divergent and kind of an AU of what if the Spring Court didn't fall. And I felt Tamlin needed some character growth.

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The Archeron sisters had become powerful figures before the Hybern war. The oldest a figment of death herself, The next an oracle with powerful visions, the next imbued with the powers of dryads and nymphs, and the youngest a curse breaker with a touch of every court in her blood.

Stories were told of the four sisters, how the youngest was putting her life on the line for the other three but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth; Feyre knew it but wouldn’t speak in favor of the male that had once locked her within the halls of his estate and the sister she had become estranged with.

When Feyre had first been taken to Prythian she had enjoyed Rosehall however boring it seemed to her, she had been warned about the dangers that lurked between her and her home. She had been taken aback when a loud pounding came from the door that startled both Tamlin and Lucien, Tamlin was the first at the door Lucien and herself behind the blonde male. The sister who would later be known as ‘The Dryad’ stood at the door of Rosehall, dressed in hunting furs and bloody, a head from something Feyre would only ever see in her nightmares in her hands. They had different mothers but had bonded together over their years, her mother had been a servant in the Archeron household who had been coerced into sleeping with the master of the house yet she had some of the strongest willpower around and had spent her time in the forests around their home; it paid off now in their young adult years, she had tracked many things for Feyre during Spring when mud would hide tracks.

Tamlin was stunned, that he would admit, at how this small female human had fought her way through the woods, found her way through the wall, and had fought her way to Rosehall; and by the looks of it she had taken out a naga on her own relatively recently from the scent. Tamlin was even more stunned when she tossed the head at his feet, blood splattered on his boots.

“I killed it, I hate the fae and I murdered one in cold blood. It didnt attack me and gave me no reason to murder it, just like my sister. Now you have to take me in too.” She had growled at the blonde male.

“You took out a naga?” Tamlin asked and she nodded. “By yourself?” She nodded again. “On my property?” She nodded again. “In my court?” Tamlin gaped.

“Okay then Rosebud, you are free to stay here. We were just having breakfast and I’m sure you must be hungry after a fight with a naga, so feel free to eat up. I’ll have the maids make you a room and then you are free to bathe if you wish, make yourself at home dear.” Tamlin had been truly impressed by the female in front of him, taken with her he would even admit.

She had raised her head high and waltzed right past Tamlin and Lucien only to nod at her sister in greeting. “Feyre, good to see you again.”

Feyre gawked. “What are you doing here?”

“Originally I came to save you from the jaws of a best but now I refuse to let you go through this alone.” The older female had stated matter of factly and waltzed into the dining room, Feyre at her heels.

When the two female disappeared from their view Lucien had turned to his blonde counterpart with a questioning look on his face. “Tam, pardon me for questioning you, but WHAT WAS THAT.” He whisper-screamed at the blonde.

Tamlin shrugged a smug look on his face. “I like that one, she's the one I was the one who killed Andras. She's the one I told you about.”

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That's the one that stabbed you with the ash dagger in your arm.”

Tamlin nodded. “Correct however you forgot the other part of it.”

Lucien sighed, already done with Tamlin’s own antics for the day. “My apologies, correction the one that stabbed you in the arm with an ash dagger and made you 99% sure she's your mate.”

Tamlin gave Lucien an offended look. “I’m not crazy Lucien. I barged into their house, completely smashed the door from its hinges, mind you, and her first instinct was to leap over a couch at me and put herself between me and her family and stab me in the arm to pull my attention to her…”

Lucien sighed and cut the older male off. “And when you did look at her you felt something similar to how the bind is rumored to feel, just dampened. I get it Tam, maybe it's just dampened because she's human?”

Tamlin nodded. “Maybe. I will just have to wait and see then.” Tamlin motioned to the dining room. “Shall we?”

Luicen snorted and started back towards the dining room, Tamlin turned and kicked the head out into his yard. Lucien was leaning smugly against the dining room door frame obviously trying to fight laughter and Tamlin found out why when he entered the dining room to find his Rosebud in his chair chowing down on the plate of bacon and pancakes he had compiled earlier before her interruption. Tamlin couldn’t be mad though, he found it adorable and he had rightly invited her into his home and to his table.

He cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention in the room, he sent a wink towards the female in his spot and with a snap of his fingers the table added another sitting and he took his place across from the spiteful, strong willed female.

The two were a hilarious picture to Lucien, and he was sure to the mother as well if she truly did design them to be together. They were out in the meadows and she was in his face over something and Tamlin looked like a hurt puppy, Feyre had refused to join but her sister was adamant exploring her ‘prison’ as she called it.

Lucien was leaning against a tree, nose in a good book when he had heard their argument cease, he looked up just ws Tamlin was about to say something and the female with a bored expression on her face; without fail he watched Tamlin point to the moon pool beside them and her just shove the blonde male into it. Lucien had busted out into laughter and she pointed at him and then back at the lake; he raised his hands in surrender ,set his book down, and kicked off his boots. He had stepped up to her, and just as she reached out to shove him in he threw her straight into the water instead. When she finally dragged herself from the water with a pout she had pushed Lucien back in on top of Tamlin; the two males proceeded to race her back to the manor that evening after their clothes had dried, Tamlin had let her win of course by insisting she take the fastest horse.

When Rhysand had appeared the evening at the manor, Tamlin had put her under a glamor and had her behind his chair, she had clutched the same dagger she had stabbed Tamlin with tightly in her right hand and leveled her breathing, when Rhysand had found Feyre and grabbed her by her chin Tamlin had shot her a glare, still hidden under the blondes glamor, for some reason she knew what that look meant.

‘Stay hidden.’ He begged her silently in that look. ‘Don’t stab him. It will be okay.’

She had understood and focused on her breathing not giving herself away, Tamlin had put himself between her and Rhys and she found herself clutching the back of his shirt to calm herself; after the gloomy male had left she had leaned against the blonde male while catching her breath.

It had been that night after Feyre and Lucien had gone to bed that she slipped from her own room, it was grand and only one other door shared the hall with hers; the room across from hers was Tamlin’s, she knew that much for sure, as she had heard his steps and the door close late every night. She had never been a good sleeper, insomnia had haunted her since she was a child and the only thing that seemed to sooth it was nature; during the warmer seasons back home she could simply open a window but that was impossible in the winter and she had been so adjusted to her winter schedule it affected her more than normal. Any sane person, human or fae, would think her insomnia a side effect of the gloomy males appearance earlier; she didn't know quite what caused it but she did know Tamlin was affected by the same kind as her, every night just as exhaustion began she would hear Tamlin’s steps, heavy and slow, coming down the hall and disappear into his room.

Except this time instead of his steps lulling her to sleep, they never came up the stairs so she fought off the exhaustion nipping at the edges of her consciousness and slipped down the halls into his study where he had disappeared after dinner. No words were spoken as he looked up from the glass of whiskey and simply offered her her own glass, she had taken it with a nod; fire crackled in the hearth to her right and eventually Tamlin moved from his seat behind his desk to the one beside her, an unspoken understanding between them as he wrapped a fur tossed over the back of his chair over her. Eventually the two dragged themselves up the stairs and through the halls again, slipping into their rooms with a wave and nearly falling into their own beds, it was the start of an unspoken relationship and the first taste Tamlin had of who his mate truly was.

The night of calanmai had been rough, the drums and smoke called to her, she had always loved festivals and parties; and Tamlin had been cold and distant and his steps were not there to assure her everything was okay, surely he would be out all night and wouldn't care if she were to slip into his bed in search for some semblance of comfort. Tamlin’s silk sheets were cool against her skin and her own silk pajamas, she could only assume what Feyre was up to in her room; Tamlin had ordered them to stay here and as much as she wanted to disappear into the crowds of partying fae she refused, opting to cover her head with one of Tamlin’s pillows as a way to deafen herself from the calling music outside. Two mistakes had been made that night, one was Tamlin refusing to fully inform them about what Calanami was and two was the fact she had deafened herself and didnt hear those steps she had familiarized herself with coming up the stairs.

Tamlin was completely exhausted and disgusted by Calanmai, he was sure of it now, or at least that last sane part of his brain tonight was, that she was his mate; every maiden’s scent disgusted him and he had even smelled Feyre’s there it was similar to the one he wished had been there but different enough he had no urge to chase after it, he'd had an altercation with Feyre on his way back into the manor but was able to restrain himself at the thought of his mates smell lingering in the halls. It was her he wanted, not her little sister.

Tamlin wanted to just bathe and collapse into bed, his mind in a fog due to the mix of lingering magic and his senses beginning to clear. Yet when he finally clambered his way up the stairs he found himself confused that his door was cracked and a faint lamp light seeped out into the hallway, he was confident he had closed the door and shut off his lamps. He stepped into his room looking everything over and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of his female curled up in his bed, he didn't want to wake her and ruin the sight in front of him; he cursed and tiptoed into the attached bathing room, to him he still stunk if the female he had given unto his instincts with and didn’t want to disturb or disgust the female fast asleep in his bed.

His brain was on autopilot, a mix of hormones, instincts, and the slightest bit of control he did have. He scrubbed his skin raw until every inch of paint and any trace of the females that were throwing themselves at him was gone, he finally slipped into cotton trousers with a groan; he briefly debated going across the hall into her room to sleep but a warm bed and the female in it was calling to him. Surely if she had sought him out like this she wouldn't mind him sleeping in hisnown bed beside her, after all they both had made a habit of checking on the other before falling asleep now. He tucked himself into the silk sheets beside her and sighed as she curled into him, the comfort of her being there surely was the determining factor in his muscles finally relaxing and letting him fall asleep seamlessly.

All that had been spoken between the two the next morning was a simple exchange of “you okay?” and “yeah. You?” And a nod of her head.

Nothing was said when they both appeared for breakfast, Lucien seemed content at poking fun at Feyre for a bruised wrist and the nearly erotic interactions she had at the festival last night before Lucien finally escorted her back to the manor; Her sister had simply shook her head at Feyre when she found out the younger female had snuck out despite being told to stay.

Other than that everything had stayed relatively uneventful, the two continued their evening drinks and then would climb the stairs together to collapse into their own beds; but it had been just the start they needed.

The next time anything eventful happened was when she and Feyre had been sent back to their home, she had put up a fight and it took knocking her out to get her in the carriage.

Tamlin had felt terrible hurting his Rosebud like that, he knew she didn’t want to leave Rosehall and it hurt him to have to knock her out just to keep her safe. She had locked herself inside her room, refusing to come down and eat; she became a ghost. She wouldn’t admit to it but Tamlin’s presence had calmed her and had offered a strange kind of presence that left a lot of emptiness and longing there, She would only ever leave her room late at night after everyone else had gone to bed and she would sit in the garden across from the rose bushes remembering her late night meetings with Tamlin; she never once noticed Feyre’s absence within the walls of the home she occupied.

She stayed out of Nesta and Elain’s ways and kept out of their business, until a loud knock came at her door. She opened it with a growl in her throat ready to scream about leaving her alone, only Feyre greets her at the door but yet she is now fae like Tamlin; her eyes scanned over the sharpened features and pointed ears, a frown comes over her face as she furrows her brows.

“Sister, before you say anything let me explain.” Feyre begged, pushing her way into the room and closing the door behind her.

The older female shrugged sarcastically. “Well I have no other option since you pushed your way in here, explain away.”

“I don’t wish for you to be mad at me.” Feyre pleaded.

“I have a feeling I am going to anyways, no matter what you say that is not a promise I can make to you right now.” The older snapped, venom in her words.

The two sat down opposite each other on the padded couches she had tucked into the corner of her room, Feyre explained everything that had happened and begged her to help them with the mortal queens that would be meeting with them soon. That it might be good for her, she needed to get out of this funk anyways because Tamlin was jot a good male; Feyre insisted it and the older female felt her blood pounding in her ears and behind her eyes.

“Don’t you dare slander him like that, he only did what he had to to protect us Feyre, don’t start with me on this.” The older female growled.

“I'm telling you sister he is a bad male and I need you to put whatever feelings you have behind you and help us with this. You were there in Prythian too, you can speak on the matters that happened there.” Feyre begged.

“I will be down for dinner to meet these males you speak so highly of. I will think about your offer. I promise you nothing.” She hissed back at Feyre, pushing her younger sister from the room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

She dragged herself into the attached bathing room, contemplating ways to truly anger her sister for how she had spoken about a male she could tell was truly broken. She scrubbed herself with floral scents, dressed herself in the same greens Tamlin had worn, and then slipped one of the roses she had brought up from the late nights in the garden into her hair; a sign of who she was truly loyal too, she didn't see Feyre’s disdain for the blonde male she only saw the fact he tried to protect them.

She had joined the group in the kitchen, Feyre had given her a sad dejected look upon her arrival to the dining room table, she made no talk with the males around the table even when they attempted to reason or talk with her.

Eventually she stood, after she’d had enough of their insults and turned to address Feyre. “I will not be supporting you this time little sister, you insult my family and those I love then turn around and expect me to bend to your every whim? Well I will not be bending for you this time. Find your own way, Cursebreaker.”

She stepped out into the gardens to lose herself amongst the Roses she had helped Elain plant, a stone bench with heads of beasts carved into it greeted her; the only place she felt she could truly relax when her mind was racing, the beasts on the bench had reminded her of Tamlin’s beast form. After she cooled off she would head back inside and curl into bed, hopefully she'd get some kind of sleep tonight.

Several weeks had passed, everything had returned to normal, the queens came and went but a loud noise of some sort had her sitting up in bed; her door was off its hinges and three males filed into her room. She screamed and fought, but they gagged and bound her; eventually one of them had gotten tired of her thrashing and knocked her out.

When I came to, Elain was being pulled from a large pot, but Tamlin’s eyes never left my figure despite Feyre clinging to his arm and when he saw I was finally awake he made a subtle gesture to stay calm, his eyes held the same message they had the day Rhysand stormed into Rosehall: ‘don't fight, don't move, don't get hurt.’

I nodded back but tensed up as they dragged me forward. I rose to my feet, squared my shoulders, and shrugged off their grasp; stepping into the cauldron of my own free will. Just as I was about to submerge into the water I heard Tamlin call out for me, I felt his panic, felt every emotion he was feeling in my own chest and hoped he could feel my own thoughts and emotions; I took one last breath and let myself sink into the water, that enveloped me in a cool feeling that reminded of the breeze that floated across the Spring Court.

Inside the water, the cool black emptiness turned and twisted until I was greeted by a misshapen and abandoned version of Rosehall, inside a version of Tamlin that had clearly given up; it saddened me to see him in that, angered me to clearly see the cause: Feyre. The male she had chosen over Tamlin was towering over him, mocking him about Feyre destroying his court from the inside out. I couldn’t move, could only watch but then Rhys said something that had me thrashing against whatever invisible force held me in place.

“Too bad you listened to Feyre and that dumb little priestess instead of your mate. Maybe you wouldn’t have lost it all.” Rhysand had mocked.

No. I wouldn't let him lose it all, I’d be there to protect him like he had me, like he had tried to do with Feyre. I fought against everything restraining me to reach out for Tamlin and Rhysand to put myself between them and from the ground a wall of thorns all angled at Rhysand’s throat grew, one wrong move could have had his head on a spike. Whatever seemed to hold me there disappeared and I clattered onto the familiar wooden flooring of Rosehall, I rushed forward to Tamlin who called out my name; the thorns around Rhysand swarmed me instead and I screamed as they embedded themselves into my skin, it burned and I felt like my insides were being torn apart and reformed repeatedly, until one final crack had my vision going white and I attempted to reach out in Tamlin’s direction. Everything came rushing back to me as my hand made contact with the iron of the cauldron and I pulled myself back out, my body felt thinner yet heavier and all of my senses felt sharper; I stepped fully from the cauldron to find everyone staring at me and then Tamlin called my name desperately, my vision snapped to him and I rushed forward when everything was silenced by a blinding gold light and the feeling of belonging.

He had pulled me into his arms, faced me away from my sisters as they dragged Nesta under and he shrugged Feyre off. It was the first I had been able to take in my appearance, or at least a portion of it; where the vines had embedded themselves tattoos of swirling thorns made themselves at home with an occasional Rose in bloom or blooming littered throughout the design. Bracelets weaved together of vine, woods, and ivy dangled from my wrists; the tattoos led towards my wrist and faded into black at my fingertips.

“How intriguing,” a voice called out from behind me and Tamlin’s grasp tightened around me. “She's high fae yes, but there is clearly something ancient in her blood the cauldron transformed; she's similar to a wood nymph but so very different I haven't seen a dryad for ages, I believed them extinct. How exceptional for the cauldron to give us this.”

I felt a rumble begin in Tamlin’s chest and I tightened my own grasp on Tamlin. “Seems like the girl had fae blood in her veins somewhere Tamlin, appreciate that fact.”

The rest of the evening went by fast, I could barely remember it with my face buried in Tamlin’s chest. Nesta and Elain had tried to call me over to them but I simply shot them a glare. Eventually we returned to Rosehall, Lucien gave me a sympathetic nod while Feyre tried to cling onto Tamlin’s arm. She tried to play up how much she missed him, a lie, in fact it was all lies that fell out of her mouth; I had heard her ramble on and on about how much she was in love with Rhysand the day she brought them to our table, and it bothered me I wanted to say something but I was content in Tamlin’s arms as he carried me.

He had brought me to my old room, nothing had been touched beside the bed. “Sorry, I may have slept in the bed a couple times on sleepless nights.”

“You have nothing to apologize for Tamlin, but I have to ask you something.” I gave him a worried look.

“Of course Love.” He furrowed his brows. “What has you so concerned?”

“When I was in the cauldron, I saw something that I feel you should know though.” I clutched at the material of his shirt desperately.

“Of course love, what is it? What did you see?” Tamlin asked me with a concerned tone of voice.

“When I went under in the cauldron, I was here but not here, everything was torn apart and it looked abandoned. You were here down stairs in your study and Rhys was looming over you, he said something about how if only you had listened to me and not the priestess or Feyre. I have reason to believe the cauldron told me that for a reason Tamlin, I know for a fact the way Feyre is acting is a charade and that she completely despises you. She begged me to let go of the feelings I had for you and to listen to how terrible of a person you were when she came home to us as a fae.” I explained.

“Rhysand said something about how you'd lose it all, he… he was threatening you,” I looked to the ground and fusted the fabric of his tunic tighter in my hands. “I couldn’t stand for it. I- I reached out for you and then a wall of thorns was separating you and Rhysand and they were all pointing to Rhysands neck. And- and when I came out of the cauldron you called for me and then I looked at you and everything was glowing with a faint golden light and there was a throb in my chest-“ I was in the midst of rambling when Tamlin pulled me into a growl with a kiss.

“I'll send Feyre back to her court, and then me and you will consummate our mating bond and then will do this our way. Alright? Neither one of us will be left alone to lose it all as long as we have the other.” Tamlin assured me.

“Alright.” I nodded.

“Get cleaned up, I’m going to talk to your sister and send her back home. We can talk about consummating the bond later tonight.” Tamlin kissed my forehead and motioned to the attached bathroom.

The bond had been consummated over a cherry pie, and everything had been going alright; Feyre had frowned upon the fact I revealed her plan to Tamlin, she was even more bitter he had made me High Lady after he had refused her. The war came and went, I knew his plans of infiltrating Hybern and bringing the plans to the other High Lords; fuck, I had attended the meeting with him and fought with my sister over the venomous words she soit towards me and my mate. On the field I had caused massive damage, walls of thorns herded our enemies, tore them apart, and pulled them into the terrain below; I could cover large areas of terrain and bend it to our whim. It had made enough of a difference and I believed my sister understood that, as she clutched her dead mate and Tamlin offered him a shred of his own magic after getting a nod from me. It would be the last thing I would do to support her.

After the war we spent a majority of our time repairing the Spring Court that was until Lucien had made a comment about my scent being different which concerned Tamlin and led to an announcement of Spring Courts heir. Well I say ‘announcement’ but really we kept it under wraps from anyone but members of our court till the next High Lords meeting was called. Eris had been crowned after Beron had been assassinated by some leftover bane put into his drink; the assassin was never caught even though we all knew it had been a plot by Eris and his mother. Kallias had added Viv into our list of High Ladies and Helion had married Lucien’s mother. Come to find out Lucien was heir of the Day court and he had been trekking back and forth between Day and Spring to perform all of his duties.

Tamlin and I would be the last two to appear for the High Lords meeting, our son Alder on my hip; he was only two now but he had Tamlins golden hair and bright green eyes, you could make out his Dryad heritage though by the smokey black around his fingertips. Tamlin had offered to research my heritage with me to find out more about Dryads for me and our son.

Alder was fascinated by his Uncle Lulu, as he had taken to calling him, and started squirming in my arms the second he saw the ginger leaning against the entrance of his father’s home, His fox-like grin greeted us warmly.

“Good to see you two again, and as always its great to see my little Alder!” Lucien took the small boy into his arms, offering him a small orb of light to play with.

Tamlin pulled me into his side, “We are going to announce it tonight but we are naming him heir.”

Lucien snorted. “Do you really have to name him heir? He's your only one so far so no one will contest it anyways.”

Tamlin and I exchanged looks and Lucien glared at us. “Right?”

“Actually, that's part of why we were announcing it tonight.” I started but Lucien interrupted.

“Oh by the mother! You’re having another!” Lucien exclaimed.

Tamlin and I nodded equally as excited. “We better get in there, though I'm sure they can excuse us for the lateness due to Alder refusing to get dressed into nicer clothes.”

Lucien snorted and passed Alder back to Tamlin. “Then let's get in there, shall we?”

The meeting went extremely well, all the other courts were excited to welcome Alder as the heir of spring and happily congratulated us on the other arrival that would be coming soon.

I had introduced Alder to Feyre, Rhys and the rest of the inner circle out of duty and not respect. “This is Feyre and Rhys, they are the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, the northernmost point of Prythian.”

Alder furrowed his brows and reached for Tamlin over my shoulder, he swept him away while he conversed with Eris and Lucien.

“Sister-“ Feyre had started.

“Don’t” I hissed at her, Nesta and Elain backing her up. “You have no right to call me that after what you tried to do to my mate. The last kind act you received from me was the war. Be happy Feyre, but it won't be with me in your life. If you wish to show up Tamlin is throwing a party for Alder’s birthday, he's naming him as heir publicly there.”

I turned from her and joined back at my mates side, Tamlin had grown since I first met him for sure; he was a good male, a good dad, he was ecstatic about training his children, and he was passionate about his court. I had seen him grow since his heir was born, there had been many a night where Tamlin would ramble on about all the stuff he couldn’t wait to show Alder about his court. He was so ecstatic to have Alder that he had gotten a small golden crown forged for him that was a duplicate to Tamlin’s.

I was proud of the male I loved, he had come so far and I couldn’t have asked for a better life with him. I just had one last puzzle to figure out: How to tell him I was pregnant with twins, and there would be three children running around Rosehall soon enough.

Taglist: @tamlinweek

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