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Shirlulu angsty smut (aka my literal best work) (og posted on my ao3)

Lelouch gasped, his attention no longer on the Black Knights or the rain’s soft song as it hit his umbrella, but on Shirley, with her clothes drenched from the rain with a solemn expression glossed painfully over her features. It was odd seeing her this way. Unnatural.

The black haired boy rushed over, covering Shirley with his umbrella and giving her his undivided attention despite the ache in his head from the struggle of his double life.

“Sorry I was late,” Lelouch apologized with as much sincerity as he could. He loved Shirley, but could he put her and his entire organization in danger for teenage love? The world was at risk, after all. A few broken hearts could be sacrificed, no? “I thought you’d be home by now. Anyway, let’s go somewhere to get out of the rain, now. Aren’t you cold?” She wasn’t even shivering.

Shirley didn’t even raise her head. She kept her eyes glued to the ground, watching the rain drops hit the concrete, jealous of their demise. But even so, those were reborn too, weren’t they? Forced through the water cycle, much like she was forced through the cycle of life, living the next day like the last. She never realized how tired she was.

If loss was a part of life, why did it hurt so badly?

Shirley’s chest ached with the emptiness of her father. A tender love gone. A gentle, kind man, gone. And for what? For Zero? For his selfish desires no one really knew?

“Lulu,” Shirley cried, completely helpless, “tell me. Zero… He fights for the weak, doesn’t he?” Lelouch paused, furrowing his eyebrows. He’d never seen Shirley so conflicted… So confused.

“What? Well, yeah, that’s what he says…”

“Then… Then why did he kill my father?”

Lelouch gave his undivided attention to Shirley now. These emotions—the sadness that was consuming Shirley to the point of making her so stiff and still—was because of him?

Lelouch knew the price of war. It was loss, anger, victory—there was more to war than meets the eye. You lost vital parts of you. You lost the good and you lost the bad. But those people Lelouch killed—he didn’t have a connection to them. Clovis? He hardly knew him. To him, Lelouch was a dead man. But Shirley? Her father?

Lelouch was the reason for Shirley’s despair. And he could do nothing about it. So, when Shirley kissed him so suddenly, Lelouch was filled with the sudden desire to be there for her always. He wanted to help her—to apologize the best he could, even if Shirley didn’t know it was him who was at fault. It was Shirley after all!

“I’m sorry, Lelouch,” Shirley cried, sitting pathetically on Lelouch’s bed as he gently dried her hair with a towel. She hid her face in her hands as she sobbed, leaving Lelouch to simply sit in silence, trying to help her the best he could.

He smiled softly. “You have no reason to apologize,” he said softly, dropping the towel to wipe a tear from Shirley’s cheek.

Shirley stared into Lelouch’s eyes with tears in her own. She attempted to blink them away just to get a good look at Lelouch. He was so close… This was everything she ever wanted, so why was she so upset? The thought produced more tears that Lelouch caught with his thumb, his free hand resting in his lap, clenched and shaking with tension.

Shirley squeezed Lelouch’s hand. She was so conflicted! Should she use this moment to get what she wanted? Seek comfort through Lelouch's gentle touch?

“Lulu…” Shirley looked down, her eyes never meeting Lelouch’s as she practically leaped into Lelouch’s arms.

He cradled her without a second thought, steadying her shivering body with a sturdy hand.

Lelouch’s violet eyes looked down at Shirley’s ginger hair, sorrow etched deep in his pores. In his own way, Lelouch was grieving Shirley’s father just as she was—thinking back to just how happy Shirley was when he was around. How grounded. And the thought alone that he was the cause of Shirley’s despair brought tears to his eyes, the salty taste of them suddenly brushed away by Shirley’s cold, shivering hand.

“You shouldn't cry, Lulu,” Shirley chuckled, tucking the long strands of Lelouch’s hair behind his ear, a habit Lelouch had when he was thinking deeply about something. She then cupped his face, to which Lelouch blushed, looking away.

Lelouch denied it. “I'm not crying,” he murmured, leaning into Shirley’s touch.

“Liar.”

Lelouch snickered.

It was silent for a moment. Silence paid the cost of everything they couldn't. Silence comforted them in their otherwise grim world. Silence said everything they wouldn't.

Silence drove them insane.

Shirley caught Lelouch's eye before slowly leaning in, her slender hands still cupping Lelouch’s face as their lips met.

At first it was gentle. But soon, all they were dumbed down to were their instincts. All they knew how to do was devour.

“Lelouch,” Shirley nearly cried, draping her long, slender arms around Lelouch’s neck. She lay on her back, her body bare, raw for Lelouch—and only Lelouch—to see.

The prince smiled, panting as he looked down at her. “I’m here, Shirley,” he whispered softly. She tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him in for another kiss, tears falling softly down her cheeks. Finally. Lelouch was finally hers. Here, on his bed, they were each other’s first—and selfishly, they were each other’s everything. Tangled in each other’s bodies, lost in the moment, the two could be purely and solely the other’s.

Lelouch moaned into the kiss, feeling Shirley’s legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer. He adjusted his body, putting his chest to Shirley’s breasts and hugging her tightly as his hips bucked into hers. She whined and hugged Lelouch tighter, trying her hardest to be quiet.

Almost subconsciously, Lelouch trailed soft and gentle kisses down and around Shirley’s neck, nipping softly and practically swallowing her moans. He was completely absorbed in her as she was with him, drowning in her embrace. Her warm body gave him the comfort he craved for so long, releasing the tension that plagued his body.

Each thrust was gentle. Calculated. This was each their first time, but it wasn’t like they didn’t know the basics. In such a short time, Lelouch had memorized Shirley’s body like a chess strategy. He knew what hurt and what not to do, the places to avoid, and the places Shirley absolutely loved.

Losing track, Lelouch slammed into Shirley, bringing out a loud whine, to which she silenced by biting into Lelouch’s shoulder. He winced with pain, but soon smiled as Shirley began to kiss where she’d hurt him, now aiming for his neck.

In all honesty, Shirley never wanted this to end. She wanted to be with Lelouch forever. He was finally being nice to her. He finally saw her. Yes, he’d seen her before, he’d looked at her, but it felt like he was always just grazing past her. Like he was teasing her by just keeping her close, but not close enough to commit to her.

Lelouch rose, hands at each side of Shirley’s head. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, moving one hand to her cheek. His touch was gentle and warm, perfect after she’d just finished crying.

She nodded with a smile, her cheeks red. “I’m so happy, Lulu,” whispered Shirley, bringing Lelouch close to her again. He chuckled, resuming his gentle, rhythmic thrusts as he focused on Shirley’s words. Her voice was like sweet candy to his ears. Her moans a tasty poison. He wanted to devour her… “Do you think…I’m selfish? For this?”

Through a moan, Lelouch replied, “No… Shirley, if–”

“No. You're right. It’s perfect. I’m so happy…”

It was odd to Shirley. Her father was dead. He died on such an important day. Her and Lelouch’s first date… But even after all of her conflicted emotions, all she could really think about was Lelouch. Her father encouraged their relationship so much, and he was always excited to hear about any student council updates or small moments with him that Shirley was excited about. It was the entire reason he gave her those tickets! He wanted to give Shirley a fair shot at her and Lelouch’s relationship.

Perhaps… Perhaps he died so this could happen, right? It must be the reason… Otherwise, Shirley wasn’t sure she could live with herself, taking advantage of Lelouch’s empathy like this.

“Shirley,” Lelouch said almost apologetically, “I’m here for you. I always was.” He thrust again, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Shirley smiled softly, lifting one hand to cup Lelouch’s face, brushing the hair from his eyes. It was soft…

“Lulu…” He frowned. Looking Shirley in the eyes like this, he could see the pain practically radiating from her. Her eyes were so dull—puffy from crying. But even so, they were so full of life and love. Having such a look directed at Lelouch made him feel so…horrible. If she knew it was his fault her father was dead, would she still love him the same? If she knew, would he still be able to keep her safe? “I love you, Lulu… I always have. Since we were freshmen.”

This made him smile. He lifted Shirley into his arms, her now sitting on his lap. As she lowered herself onto him again, felt him fill her up, she knew that this was right. She knew it was always meant to be Lelouch. Till the very end, it was always Lelouch.

The black haired boy cradled Shirley’s head, his other arm around her waist as she steadily rolled her hips. He brought her closer. “I love you, Shirley.”

As this, Shirley came and Lelouch whimpered (which made Shirley giggle a bit), and instinctively held her tighter, cumming into the condom. His hips bucked further into Shirley, causing her to feel him pulse within her. It tickled.

“I'm sorry,” Lelouch apologized, just as Shirley uttered more sweet words into his ear. All of them were sweet. Sincere. And Lelouch knew this. Knew she meant every word—felt every word. And he knew he didn't deserve it. Knew he was the cause of her pain. All of these emotions, and Lelouch knew “sorry” was never going to be enough.

Smiling, Shirley pulled Lelouch close. She'd stopped crying, her body still cold. But as she lay slender and bare beneath Lelouch, all was forgiven. Every sin, every lie… All their burdens were each other’s to bear.

“Lulu,” Shirley began, twirling Lelouch’s hair in her fingers, kissing down his cheek and neck. “I'm sorry I put this on you. I love you. I never want to cause you harm…”

Lelouch kissed her back, wishing he could say the same, hands trailing down her body. Guilty. Tainted. He ruined something so pure, didn't he?

“I just want you to be safe,” murmured Lelouch. “I'm really sorry about your father.”

“Oh stop,” sighed Shirley, still hugging Lelouch as he lay above her, their eyes locked. “I'm the happiest here. With you. Always.”

Lelouch smiled, and as they shared what would forever be their last kiss, Lelouch knew it wouldn't last. Knew that someone so rotten like himself could—would—kill even the strongest, most ripe fruit in the forest. And he'd have to watch it rot. Watch it decompose as he stood there frozen, unable to move.

And soon, he'd be right.

Lelouch thought back to everything in that building, holding Shirley in his arms as she uttered her last words, admitting her love, expressing her forgiveness. And as she lay there, nearly drowning in her own blood, Lelouch wept. What was once Shirley—a lively, bubbly and optimistic girl—was now a corpse, getting colder by the minute.

Lelouch sobbed, closing her eyes with his blood stained hand.

Shirley. A girl who loved Lelouch until her dying breath. A girl who, despite the evil in the world, still managed to look forward with love in her eyes now lie dead on the floor, her ginger hair a matted, bloody mess, her sun kissed skin and pink lips blue and pale.

Shirley. An innocent girl lie dead while Lelouch continued to roam free.

But that was never all they were. They were always so much more. They simply just didn't have time.

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