#i would fall in love with him if he were real

[hairyjocktf]

The New Cub

Jaden was a real estate agent in Denver, and quite a good one at that. He prided himself on that fact, having been the top agent at his firm for four years running. He was only 27 too, having gotten his license after high school with ease. Once he got that first commission check he never looked back. This had been a big week for him, closing a deal on a multi-million dollar house that was netting him a nice bonus. It’d taken a lot of work and effort, but as he walked into his apartment just hours after the signing he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d planned to take a few days off as a reward, some time to pamper himself like he deserved. He walked into his room, stripping off the well fitted blazer before undoing the buttons on his shirt. Water gushed from the faucet as he filled his tub with a warm bath and opened the windows, letting in that cool fall air. His belt and pants fell to the floor next as he admired his slim body in the mirror. 

Jaden was the ideal twink, with a tall and thin form that he kept supple and hairless with a meticulous daily routine. He slowly rubbed his hands down over his tight stomach, feeling the smooth skin he loved before sliding off his underwear. The warm water bubbled as he stepped in, sliding his body below the surface as water cascaded across his shaved legs. The tension in his shoulders melted away, the water sapping away the stress of the week. Birdsong echoed in through the open windows, and Jaden entered a state of pure relaxation. For all of five minutes, at least. Unable to be alone with his thoughts for too long, his long, near skeletal arm reached from the tub and grasped his phone. This may be his vacation but he sure wasn’t going to spend it at home relaxing.

He quickly opened up grindr. He glanced at the dozens of messages from the last few days but didn’t open a single one, opting instead to scroll and scroll, unsure of what he was actually looking for. Every few seconds he would get a tap or message, he knew his profile worked. It had for years, with his perfectly smooth and slim body appealing to a wide audience. He normally went for the tech guys who were in perfect shape, but that didn’t seem appealing today. Neither did a younger twink. He was about to put the app down when he got a message from what looked to be a guy in his late 30s, but in great shape. Good definition, and fully shaved, he noted.

“Afternoon gorgeous,” the message said, “got any weekend plans? Been looking for a handsome man to spoil a bit.” Jaden paused. Normally he didn’t care for offers like this, but he’d been unsatisfied from anything else so far. Plus, this was his weekend to spoil himself, why not let someone else help out? He typed out a response.

“Hey there :) Would love to be treated nice this weekend, what do you suggest?” He read it and deleted it all in disgust. “Thanks babe, I’d say I deserve a bit of spoiling this weekend, what's your offer?” he typed again, and then sent. A few seconds later a reply had already shown up.

“I’ve got a nice house with a mountain view, and I can promise the best meal of your life and the best sex you’ll ever have. Your choice for the details, of course,” the man said with a winky emoji. Not having to cook dinner was pretty appealing, and if it turned out to be mediocre he could always leave. It was just the first night of his time off after all. 

“Sounds lovely,” Jaden sent back, “Where’s this beautiful estate of yours?” A location appeared just seconds later. It was out in the western fringes of the city, a hefty drive. He knew the neighborhood though, and it was a nice one. Couldn’t hurt to give this guy a shot, he thought, rising out of the now lukewarm tub waters.

After a lengthy session of getting ready, Jaden set out for this luxury evening he’d been promised. The sun was already beginning to dip in the sky, promising a lovely sunset over the mountains. He pulled off the highway after about thirty minutes, navigating the twisting residential roads before finally arriving at a slightly secluded house at the top of a ridge. His first reaction was to how beautiful the property was, being a realtor and all. The view the man had offered seemed to be true, now he just had to test the rest of it. He checked himself in the rear view mirror, making sure his hair was tufted just right before stepping out into the cool evening air. He walked up the steps to a heavy oak door and rang the bell, hearing it echo inside. Heavy footsteps shook the ground as they approached, the door unlocked, and Jaden’s eyes went wide.

The man in the doorway was not the man he’d seen on grindr. This guy was a full-fledged daddy bear, older, fatter, and much, much hairier. He answered the door in just his tight underwear, showing off his large body that was completely coated in hair. Numerous tattoos were buried under the fur, barely recognizable. A thick salt and pepper beard adorned his face, which wore a wide grin.

“Well look at you kiddo, glad you showed!” the man said with a deep, smoky voice.

Jaden was taken aback, he’d never been in this situation. It wasn’t like the photos he saw were just a little out of date, this was an entirely different guy! At a loss of what to say, all he managed to get out was, “You… you’re not the guy in the pics!”

The man laughed, “Oh those photos, they were of my last project, don’t worry about them. Name’s Glenn. Why don’t you come in?” He took a step forward and reached out his hand.

Jaden’s brain was on red alert, he’d been catfished, lied to, and he needed to leave immediately. The old man in front of him was not at all what he was into, but that was the least of his concern at this point. What did he mean by ‘last project’? Why would he use pics that weren’t him? 

But suddenly, as Glenn stepped forward, a warm air washed over him coming from inside. It was smoky, almost rustic, but also smelled strongly of sweat and musk. His numerous trains of thought came to a screeching halt. He took a deep inhale through his nose, the smell dulling his senses in a way he couldn’t possibly notice. The outstretched hand looked so welcoming suddenly, and hadn’t he been promised dinner? The worries about the man were quickly fading, replaced by feelings of comfort. He took Glenn’s hand and stepped through the doorway without another thought. 

The inside of the house was larger than he’d expected, decorated almost in the style of a mountain cabin. It was cozy, with lots of bookshelves and wood paneling that had fallen out of style among his customers, but he strangely liked it here. Glenn led him through multiple rooms until reaching a large patio overlooking the mountains, the sunset still gaining colors in the background. Glenn sat him down on a large sofa.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back with some food,” he said before trotting back into the house. Jaden stared out over the vista, wondering briefly why he’d said yes, before that thought too fell out of his mind. His mind was relaxed, yet a little foggy, almost similar to the feeling of poppers. He slouched further into the cushions waiting for Glenn to return with whatever feast he’d prepared. He caught himself even drooling at the thought, which shook him somewhat out of his daze, he couldn’t be acting like that. Just then Glenn walked back out with a huge plate of lamb chops, still sizzling. He set it down on a nearby table and motioned for Jaden to join him.

He sat down at the table and looked over the spread Glenn had prepared. The man hadn’t lied, it was an impressive feast. Jaden usually didn’t eat red meat but something about tonight felt different. As soon as Glenn sat down that same strong scent returned. This time it was more pungent, more reminiscent of the smell of sweat, and it made that foggy feeling return stronger than it’d initially been. But Jaden forgot about it when Glenn looked over with a smile.

“I think you’ll like this, son, it’s a tried and true family recipe after all!” he exclaimed before digging in. The word son rang in Jaden’s ears for a moment before he too dug into the food.

Despite his previous aversion to red meat he scarfed it down; it was absolutely delicious. He barely had time to speak in between bites, but Glenn didn’t seem to mind, watching Jaden devour the meal he’d prepared. Soon enough, his plate was empty, and Glenn admired the bulging stomach he could see pressing against Jaden’s tight shirt.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” Jaden said between burps. What was going on with him? First eating all that food and now burping like some degenerate caveman? But he was far past caring, already entering a sort of food coma. Glenn got up and went back to the couch, gesturing for Jaden to follow. He did so eagerly and tucked himself under Glenn’s open arm. Jaden would have never previously hooked up with a bear, but he was surprised to enjoy the feeling of a large furry body embracing him. Even more surprising was how obviously his dick sprang to life in his pants when Glenn’s hand dipped under the fabric. Glenn pulled Jaden closer to him, smiling at him as he stealthily attached a testosterone patch on Jaden’s back. It was time to see how far he could take this one.

The combination of Glenn’s powerful musk and enormous meal had Jaden completely subdued, ready to accept anything. His thick hands glided over Jaden’s smooth skin, sending shivers through his body. No other guy had been this effective with just his hands. Glenn ramped it up from there, kissing up and down Jaden’s body, feeling him shudder with pleasure. He rubbed his own hairy body against Jaden’s hairless one, subliminally inflicting him with desires yet to be realized. He couldn’t wait to see what Jaden would become. The next few hours were a blur as the sun fell below the mountains and the stars lit their passionate embrace. Glenn edged Jaden for hours, keeping him on the brink of ecstasy. He could feel the prickle of hairs as they began resurfacing in Jaden’s shaved groin. Finally after hours he let Jaden finish, spraying cum all over his slim body. Glenn massaged it into his skin as they cuddled, and Jaden passed out shortly after. That was just the beginning, Glenn thought to himself as he applied another patch to the sleeping Jaden’s body. 

Jaden arose the next morning to the smell of breakfast in the making; Glenn was preparing another feast for him. His body was still sore from the night before, causing him to groan as he got out of the bed. Glenn poked his head into the room.

“Morning, handsome,” he said with a chipper voice, “food’s almost ready!”

“I appreciate it but I should probably head out,” Jaden replied, looking for his clothes on the floor.

“Naw, what’re you sayin’ that for? We’ve got plenty more time,” Glenn assured him, stepping further into the room. That same familiar musk washed over Jaden again, and just like that he was more agreeable.

“You’re right, and I’m starving,” he said with renewed energy. Glenn came back moments later with a platter stuffed with waffles, bacon, what must have been a dozen eggs, and more. The urge to stuff himself again took hold of Jaden, who tore his way through the breakfast. Glenn watched with a grin, seeing Jaden’s belly puff out just a little more than the night before. They spent the rest of the day cuddling, making out, having more sex. Jaden was in heaven, not noticing when Glenn applied new patches to his back after the first ones had fallen off. His thoughts about getting back to his apartment faded while Glenn’s thick scent fogged up his head. It all felt so good, why would he want to leave?

That evening they showered together, Glenn’s sweat covering Jaden along with his own cum. He sensually washed Jaden’s body with his custom soap, scented like pine and infused some ingredients to encourage hair growth. He felt up and down Jaden’s body, noticing some areas that weren’t quite so smooth anymore. Hairs had begun to surface not only in his groin, but across his thighs, and even on his chest. Just small pinpricks for now. As they were drying off afterward Glenn placed another patch under Jaden’s shoulder blade. He also noticed how Jaden’s previously boney frame had softened just a tad. 

The days continued to pass in a similar manner, Glenn and Jaden spending every moment intertwined as Glenn slowly but surely molded Jaden. He was changing day by day from the definition of a twink to something else. Brown stubble sprouted sparsely across his chin and lip, his chest had begun to push out into soft pecs adorned with their own fuzz. His previously shaved armpits had stubble pushing out, with new hairs joining each day. His similarly shaved pubes were returning with a vengeance, growing in quicker and spreading further than they ever had before. Fat was clinging to his thin frame, he was filling out. 

As Jaden’s body hair started coming in, Glenn would spend more and more time rubbing his hands through it. It was an electric feeling for Jaden, he’d never known it could feel that being hairy. And he was slowly craving it more and more. Glenn continued putting testosterone patches on him as well as a number of other products he’d tried with other guys before. He wanted this cub to be perfect. Jaden’s vacation had long passed but he was oblivious, forgetting more and more each day about his previous life as he dedicated his new one to Glenn. Every day he rubbed against Glenn’s weathered, hairy body and desired it all for himself. He loved the attention, being spoiled and cared for. He didn’t even notice that every meal was huge to ensure he packed on the pounds quickly. 

Days turned to weeks, as Jadens body continued to mold to Glenn’s form. Glenn decided it was time for more progress, and introduced Jaden to his home gym. He slowly introduced a routine before pushing Jaden harder than he’d ever exercised in his life. Glenn took pride in having some strength under his gut, and he wanted his cub to have some solid muscle too. That’s when the testosterone patches turned to injections. Stronger and more effective, Glenn was pushing his cubs transformation into full gear. 

The thin wisps of hair that dotted his chest thickened and multiplied, with larger pecs pushing out as well. The chest hair spread out from his nipples and up towards his neck, and even out towards his shoulders, connecting with the pit hair that had really started to sprout. What had once been a smooth shaven pit was now erupting into a forest. The hairs darkened, grew coarse and wiry, and really began to hold his sweat in. Between that and the workouts Jaden was starting to produce his own sweaty musk at a rapid rate. His beard also grew denser and darker, peach fuzz flooded with testosterone until it became real fur, pushing out of his face. Every day the hairs grew longer, darker, and Glenn was there to feel it all, stroking his cub’s growing beard as it came in.

Each day for Jaden began to follow a pattern; he ate plenty, worked out for hours, and was intimate with Glenn for the rest of it. He would do daily testosterone injections and used Glenn’s hair growth wash. He had grown to love what was happening to him, with continuous positive reinforcement from Glenn, who would comment on his progress. He would point out during sex how much larger his cock and balls had gotten, immediately giving Jaden an erection. It was true though, what had once been a thin six inch cock was now pushing past eight and as thick as a beer can, with balls the size of lemons dangling below. 

His pubes had hit the same growth spurt. What had once been a small shaven patch had erupted into a verdant jungle of hair. Over the weeks they had pushed out slowly, growing darker and curlier, tangling together as more and more hairs pushed through the skin and sprouted out. The bush spread out from the base of his cock, coating his entire groin and reaching up to his stomach and out onto his thighs. His massive balls received their own dense fur coat; the wiry hairs so thick you could barely see through the forest. Hairs had even started climbing up his shaft, giving it an almost animalistic look. Glenn loved this, edging Jaden for hours every day playing with his thick pubes and enormous balls. The hairs blended seamlessly up to the rug on his chest, coating his continually growing belly in more and more hair. 

Jaden had put on so much size that his clothes no longer fit. Glenn of course supplied him with everything he could want, though he rarely wore more than just underwear. He loved the way a tank top looked while working out, his gut pressed tight against the fabric while still showing off his hairy chest and shoulders. His forearms grew thick with muscle as fur coated them as well. His thick thighs met the same fate, with hair sprouting all the way down to his feet. His beard thickened further and spread higher up his cheeks, leaving him with a dense covering that tangled with Glenn’s own when they kissed. His body had doubled in size, with those workouts giving him a solid muscular frame. Glenn made sure that was still softened by plenty of chub though, stuffing his cub at every meal. 

Fall changed to winter, and Jaden was nearing perfection as Glenn’s cub. They were inseparable, spending every day together as Glenn pushed the cub to be the best he could be, perfected for his own enjoyment. Jaden was enamored with his daddy bear, aware of the changes he’d undergone but not worried about his past self. As snow began to fall outside, his new mass and fur coat kept him warm even when outside, since he rarely cared to put on a coat. It was even better for snuggling by the fire with a full fledged bear, one who promised to only make Jaden more and more like himself. Jaden was now a true cub, in love with his daddy bear and looking forward to a life of growing. 

#male tf #hairy tf #hairy #beard #hairy chest #hairy pits #hair growth #cub tf #my writing #bear tf

[arthursdolly]

𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 (𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! afab/fem reader . age gap . arthur just tellin u how pretty u are

arthur was a man of a few words, being more of a man of action. he was older, too. but that's okay, u always had a sort of thing towards older men. he was always super kind and caring towards u by checking on u, helping u with chores, and he just took good care of u and it made u fall in love with him all over again!!

arthur wasn't too affectionate with u during the day. u didn't mind it. u know why.

u knew he was just nervous since no one really knew about his romantic relationship with u and because he was super busy in his rough line of work. he wasn't sure about how the gang would feel about it, with u being younger than him. so it was kept between u and him only. u just had ur eyes set on him and him only.

although he wasn't afraid to touch u on the passing. he'd move u gently out the way by ur hips if he had to get by. his big hands would often brush urs. making u feel the little butterflies in ur stomach, he knew what he was doing to u, and he was so enjoying it - even if he didn't tell u. he adored u all embarrassed:( uo him, it was cute.

by the time the sky darkens into pitch black, members slowly turning in for the night is when arthurs like a different man. he got more a lot comfortable when there were fewer prying eyes around. they way he got all handsy made u often made ur heart skip a beat, the hands of a killer that showed gentleness and kindness like a proper gentleman would.

so here u were around the campfire, straddling ur lover's lap as u and him have a whispers of a conversation. small fit of giggling and laughing left ur lips. oh, arthur was just a tease with u! with his hands or his words, he knew how to treat u just fine.

soon, he leaned into ur ear again, the faint scent of tobacco and whiskey filling ur nose. “yer such a pretty girl, darlin.” u soon felt ur cheeks redden at his words as a smile graced ur lips. “thank you. 'nd yer handsome too." u replied, kissing his cheek as u wrapped an arm around his neck, and he chuckled. “ah, i ain't all that... yer my pretty girl.” he says as he gently pulled u closer to him by ur hips.

he then leans down, pressing soft kisses on ur neck. “yer real pretty... especially in that dress i bought fer ye a while ago.” he murmurs, gently feeling the vibration from his voice. u looked away out of embarrassment as u felt ur face heat up. “ain't lyin' neither. yer jus' too pretty f'me, my angel.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #crazyfrm

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 12

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

Before to start. . . Please take your time to read 'cause it's quite lenghty. 📖

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

The weekend - end with Joel unfortunately came to an end. The enchantment is over and everything is back exactly as it was. Or almost, Joel, the night before the two of you went back to your lives, gave you a small set of keys.

"If you want to come here and write, you can. With or without me. There's an important part of you here and it's right that, when you want to, you come. Feel free to do." he told you "If you want to run away and seek refuge, you can do it here."

You are in your room lying on your bed with the small wooden guitar he carved for you a long ago clutched in one hand and the keys to his house in the other. You clutch them tightly to your heart as if to feel Joel close to you. You miss him already.

This makes you realize one thing: there's no longer a place for Jack in your life or in your heart. You want to be with Joel. You want him to be a part of you, you want everyone to know that you don't care that he's older than you, but that you love him. Yes, you love him.

You can't do without him.

Your phone rings.

It's Jack.

"I haven't heard from you once." he says.

"Well, you too." you reply in an icy tone.

"Would you like to talk about what happened a few nights ago?" he asks you.

The truth is that you don't care. You don't want someone like him next to you, someone who makes you feel bad, who doesn't support you, who doesn't understand you. No, thank you.

"There's nothing to say," you reply in the same tone.

"So … are we okay?" he asks.

"No, maybe I wasn't clear. Jack. . . I'm sorry, but I don't want a person who doesn't support me, who doesn't understand what's important to me," you answer.

For a moment you feel like the phone line has gone dead, then he resumes "So, we don't want to see each other again?"

"No." you reply flatly "Bye Jack, have a nice life." you add and then cut off the call.

Your heart beats fast in your chest. You feel as if freed from a burden.

Maybe you were too hard on Jack, but you don’t want continue leading him on, it’s not fair. You don't love him. You never had.

Now you can be with Joel.

But how can you see him if he is no longer in town now?

Simple, you look for something that might convince your mother to let you leave for a few days. You look for an idea, anything to get away, but at the moment you can't think of anything.

You fall asleep looking for an idea.

Your life flows quietly, you go to work at the bar, when you come back you practice your chords, you very rarely go to church with your mother hoping to get some ideas on how you can reach Joel. The man who teaches these classes sees you and approaches you with a big smile. He's a great speaker, has great language property, and you are not surprised that your mother is fascinated by him, but you fear that he is yet another foothold your mother is looking for in the course of her life. The man, a fellow named Mark, will be a few years older than your mother, tells you that he's glad you are there with them, that you too therefore are seeking the salvation of your soul and that only through prayer can this happen.

You lower your head, you don't want to burst out laughing in his face, you don't believe in this, you never had and you won't start now. Everything you hear only increase this your total belief. You are not like your mother who believes whatever she is told. No.

"Boo," your mother says, "have you seen how interesting these classes are?"

Of course.

"Yes, you right. You know, I've been thinking about going deeper," you begin. Your mother's eyes sparkle, she thinks she convinced you and converted you to all this. Not at all.

"You could go for a prayer retreat with Mark and his group." she offers enthusiastically "If I could, I would go too, but I have to work."

You take advantage of it.

"Mom, actually I'd like to go with my friend Kristen and her prayer group, you know, she's also attending. Her group is in the small town near ours, I know they are leaving next week for a prayer retreat, maybe I can go with her so I would have her company."

Kristen is the friend your mother always liked the most, she always saw her as a proper young person, judicious, polite, charitable, in short a perfect friend and girl.

"Fine. But you'll have to let me know then what you think, though, and then next time you and I will go with Mark's group."

Now you just need to let Kristen know.

"We'll talk." you say with a small smile "Would you like a pizza? Shall we eat it at the diner?"

"All right." she replies, taking you under her arm.

The evening unfolds as quietly as possible, you don't talk much, you just make a few sporadic comments about the pizza, the place, the meeting you attended, but nothing more.

Fortunately Joel calls when you returned by now and your mother is in bed. You check to see if you can talk freely and realize that she is soundly asleep. Joel tells you about his day, but more than anything he asks if you have been to his house, he wants to know if you are writing, if you are doing everything to pursue your dream, but you tell him you are going tomorrow.

"I miss you," you tell him, "I wish you were here," you add.

"I can't move, honey." he tells you in a regretful tone "We may not see each other not earlier than three weeks, it's gonna be complicated days for me."

"For me too, Miller. I'll. . ." you stop, you were about to tell him I love you, but then you reconsider, you don't know if your feeling is mutual, and what if he replies he doesn't feel the same way for you? You don't think you can stand such a response from him.

"You, what?" he encourages you, you swallow, afraid, you close your eyes "Baby, are you there?"

"Yes." you answer "I'm very tired, sorry. . ."

"No, no, 's okay. Go to sleep, I wish you good night, baby. A kiss, I hope whatever you dream will come true sooner or later." he says before to hang up the phone.

You will surely dream about him, his dark eyes, his plushy lips smiling at you and kissing you softly, his messy hair falling on his forehead, his arms caging the sides of your face, you dream about him with one hand cupping your face and with the other moving a strand of your hair and smiling at you. You see him on top of you whispering sweet, reassuring words in that sweet, warm voice of his, your hands in his hair as you press yourself against him. His hand along your bare chest, his large hand caressing your breasts, thumb and forefinger teasing first one nipple and then the other. Your breath breaks. His bulge pushing against your inner thigh, your breaths getting shorter and shorter, you almost feel him stroking you with a finger first to taste your intimacy then slowly sinking inside you, inch by inch. You gasp. It feels so good, the rhythm he's giving with his finger that breaks your breath, he then strokes you rhythmically with two fingers, filling you all the way, you swallow squeezing your eyes shut and clutching your sheets in a fist. You mumble his name, bite your lower lip. You feel the blood boil in your veins as he continues to pump in a relentless rhythm inside you, then your mouth opens wide in a dull moan, your lips trembling.

You open your eyes, he's not here, but your imagination brought you into his arms to come violently.

Being in his house without him causes you a strange grip, you feel like you are in a beautiful soulless place. You feel empty, you just look around as if you almost feel a presence around you. You feel ridiculous thinking about this. After all, it's not the first time you've come here, of course it's the first time you're alone here, but you've been with him so many times. There's nothing to be afraid of.

"You recognize this place?" you ask Joel, sending him a message with a photograph of you sitting on his couch.

You turn on the computer he gave you and write, write, write. The words come out spontaneously, effortlessly, when you lift your head from the computer you realize it is almost evening. You stretch, turn off the pc, drink a glass of water, go to the bathroom and then leave.

Joel hasn't answered you, that's not like him, who knows maybe he's just really busy, you tell yourself.

As you're on your way home, you contact Kristen, you absolutely must warn her of your idea: you explain your plan and she tells you that she also has to actually go to a prayer meeting and she has to go to the very town where Joel is working. You explain that you are going to pretend to join them, but that you are actually going to Joel, you want to see him.

You check your phone, but Joel has not answered or displayed yet. You decide to call him, but his phone just rings. That's weird. You text him, but nothing, he doesn't answer or call you. You think about many things, then you decide that since he doesn't answer you, you need to leave, you need to see him now more than ever.

Convincing your mother was as easy as a glass of water, she wanted to talk to Kristen of course who confirmed your prayer meetings, provided many details of arrival and departure, and you, to reassure your mother, promised to call her as soon as you arrived, in the afternoon and evening. You prepare your small luggage and, since your mother won't let you drive, you leave with Kristen. The only problem is that Joel doesn't know you are coming and you don't know where to look for him.

Someone says that doing surprises is never a good thing because you inevitably get surprises, you try to chase that thought away, you don't want to believe that you are the one getting the surprise. You check your phone, Joel hasn't been in touch or answered your texts for almost twenty-four hours, and on the one hand it agitates you, but on the other it leads you to think that maybe he's just really busy.

While you're thinking that you've been foolish in leaving like that without informing him of your arrival, you remember the name of the company he works at and so your field of inquiry narrows; you're not alone, luckily you're accompanied by Kristen and a friend of hers, a guy named Xavier, a tall, muscular, blue-eyed, black-haired handsome guy. You think he's there with you because he cares about your friend, but this is your own thought, you may be wrong.

The places you see are one shabbier than the next, fortunately Xavier is with the two of you. When you arrive at another construction site, you realize you're in the right place, you ask for Joel and at that moment you are approached by a chick all dirty with a chipped protective helmet, she says your name, you turn around "D' you know me?" you ask her puzzled.

"It's like I know you, Joel talks about you all the time. You're here for him, aren't you?" her expression tense, focused "Come with me." she tells you, turning her back to the three of you.

"Uhm, can you wait for me? I'll let you know right away," you tell them.

When you turn around, you see the woman waiting for you with her hands in her uniform pockets, then noticing that you are joining her, she continues. She urges you to be careful several times, climbing flights of semi-dangerous stairs, when you almost reach the top, your heart in your throat with fear, but the idea of seeing him urges you on.

"Don't be frightened, dunno how much he's told you," she says as if you know what she's talking about "It's less worse than it looks." she stops on the landing "He's over there, he fell pretty bad, but other than a few cuts and bruises, he's okay."

You furrow your brow, the woman talks about it almost as if she said he scraped his knee, as if it were obvious. Well, maybe it is, but not to you.

"Didn't he tell you, did he?" she asks noticing your worried expression "You stubborn fool." she says in a sigh "Come." she adds giving you a little pat on your arm.

You follow her worriedly to a semi-closed door, "Wait." she tells you, then enters.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, that's why he didn't write or call you, but when did this happen? Yesterday? Last night? This morning? It doesn't matter when, but how he is, you hope with all your heart that nothing serious happened to him and that it's just a few scratches like the ones you've also seen before.

The door opens, the woman's eyes are downcast as she comes out, then she raises them to you, "He's in a bad mood, but I think with you he's…well, we gave him a painkiller." she tells you as she walks past you.

"But how did that happen?" you ask stopping her.

"That stubborn fellow last night at five o'clock had to knock off, but he wanted to finish a job upstairs at all costs, so he stayed with four other unconscious men like him until eight o'clock. By that time it's dark up here, very dark in spite of the lights, he slipped along with some equipment on the ramp leading upstairs." you pale "The cuts are mostly superficial, except for one on his side. A couple of friends working in the ER stitched him up."

"He needs to be taken to the hospital," you say seriously concerned.

She smiles bitterly and shakes her head "Since that episode happened to his daughter, Miller hasn't set foot in a hospital." the woman looks at you as if she has let a secret slip.

"What happened to his daughter?" you ask her hoping she will talk, but she shakes her head and replies "I can't be the one to tell you about it, he has to. If you're as important to him as it seems. . . well, he'll talk to you about it sooner or later." you lower your gaze "Now go to him."

You swallow, then turn away from the woman and enter, the room is semi-dark and cold, there are dozens of cabinets along two walls and then at the back a window through which only faint glimpses of light enter and a worn sofa on which Joel is lying. You leave your bag at the doorway dropping it and hurry next to him from the side, his face is swollen, you can clearly make out a cut at the level of his left cheekbone and lower lip, his arms are covered with large bloodstained bandages and his work uniform is half-open revealing a gauze on his side below which you imagine are the stitches the woman told you about.

You very gently caress the contour of his face, his face twitching in a small grimace perhaps from pain perhaps from discomfort you don't know, he opens his eyes and when he sees you he hints a pale smile "Is it the painkillers or are you really here?"

"Joel. . ." you tell him in a whisper moving closer to his face "I'm here."

"My beautiful. . . wonderful. . . writer" he mumbles raising an arm toward your face, when his hand brushes your face and then moves your hair you have chills, you place your hand on his, you feel it warm and ruined under your fingers "'m fine." he adds "Don't be impressed, I've been worse."

"Is that why you don't want me to see you naked?" you ask smiling and causing him to smile back.

"Guessed." he replies closing his eyes, for a while you don't speak again, you think he has fallen asleep, but then he says, "I missed feeling your breath against my skin."

"I missed you." you confess, squeezing his hand a little tighter and placing a kiss on the back of his hand "If something happened to you. . ." the words choke in your throat.

"'m right here, honey. 'm not going anywhere." he tells you reassuringly and stroking your cheek with his fingertips in a slow and extremely gentle gesture.

You place your head suddenly between arm and shoulder and he barely jerks, "Sorry!" you exclaim, but he holds you down "No, 's okay, just take it easy. Come on." he tells you moving a little further into the couch. You remain lying on that small and uncomfortable couch, you don't dare to move for fear of hurting him, he's the one looking for your hand, which he occasionally squeezes, but without making a sound. You wonder if he squeezes it to reassure you or because he feels pain.

It's your cell phone vibrating, interrupting that almost perfect silence, Kristen. You completely forgot about her! You reassure her that everything is fine and that you are with Joel; then, she reminds you to call your mother and tells you she is leaving.

Joel just turns his face toward yours, "You here alone?"

"No," you answer, shaking your head, "I'm with Kristen. She was waiting for me downstairs, you know, afraid that it wasn't the right construction site or that you weren't here," you explain to him.

"If you want to go with your friend, go. I think I'll stay a little longer like this and then go home. Join me later if you want." he tells you in a slightly dizzy voice.

"No." you tell him, "I came for you. If you want me, I'll stay with you," you tell him, looking at him.

He opens and closes his eyes, pulls you gently toward him making your head rest in the crook of his neck, "I want you all the time." he tells you "You know, I've been thinking about you all the time lately. There's not a moment in my day when my thoughts don't go to you." you lift your face slightly toward him "I have three words on the tip of my tongue, but dunno if it's fair to tell you." he adds before breathing deeply.

Your heart pounding in your chest, you close your eyes and inhale his scent.

"I have them too, from the bottom of my heart," you whisper, holding you to him and closing your eyes.

When Joel feels better, the two of you with Tess drive him home. You've reclined the passenger seat to make him lie down or almost lie down, you're sitting in the middle in the back seat. Tess doesn't talk much, she just casts brief glances at you from the rearview mirror and occasionally glances toward Joel who, however, does not look at you or at her.

The little house Joel rented here is much smaller than the one he has in town. In fact, it has a kitchenette, a bedroom and a bathroom. You help him shed his overalls, although he initially rebelled at being treated like he's ill, but you insisted. You sit him down on the worn-out couch in the kitchen and there for the first time you see his completely naked torso and it's huge, but what strikes you most besides his mighty are the many old and new cuts and scars that decorate his arms, his shoulder blades, his back. You are tempted to caress them all, but not now. You try to wash him as best you can without getting too close to the area where the stitches are. Your eyes constantly cross, when he sees you uncertain he reassures you with a look or a nod.

Once finished, you help him put on a clean T-shirt and invite him to stay there while you prepare a plate of pasta with some tomato sauce, again he rebels initially, but in the face of your firm tone he can only surrender. You hand him the plate by sitting next to him, eating in silence. From time to time he lays his head back against the backrest and closes his eyes holding his breath, "Does it hurt?" he shakes his head, but the expression on his face says otherwise "What can I do?" you ask him.

He turns to you, "You're here." he tells you causing you to miss a beat and smile. You enjoy each other's company, he would like to lean toward you and kiss you, but the stitches are pulling and he must not strain. You accompany him to bed, where he wears only a T-shirt and a pair of dark boxers. You swallow, if he wasn't like this. . .

You stop that thought from your mind, "Come." he says, inviting you to join him. You are wearing a shirt from a few years ago now ruined and three sizes larger, it's so big that it almost reaches your knee. You wear only that one to sleep in and briefs.

You lie down next to him, he's on his back, you can see him in the semi-darkness of the room, "Who was that woman at the construction site?" you ask, turning to him and gently laying a hand on his chest.

"Tess, a pain in the ass, but she's the only friend I have. The only one who has known me for years. She's a tough cookie."

"I saw. She seems cool," you say.

He nods, then turns to you, "Did you go to my place to write?"

"Once. I wrote. A lot. But without you, it's not the same." you say making squiggles on his chest with your index finger "I would have wanted you around, maybe hugging me and taking a look at what I was writing." you confide, he turns back to you "Next time.'' he tells you, giving you a kiss on your lips.

He takes your hand that was lying on his chest and squeezes it tightly intertwining his fingers with yours, he then runs his fingers down to your forearm and then looking you in the eyes he says "Come." you look at him puzzled "Come on me, I want to kiss you properly." he adds.

Your heart is pounding, you don't know how or, rather, you have a vague idea, but you don't know if it's right. He holds your hand as he guides you by making you lie completely on him. You feel even smaller in this position on him.

"If you have pain or discomfort, tell me," you tell him referring to the stitches, he shakes his head softly and then pulls you closer to him.

You are face to face, Joel barely leans toward you and captures your lips in a kiss that takes your breath away. You think back to how sick you were without him, you think back to the fear you had when you learned he was hurt, as Joel slips a hand through your hair crushing you even more against him.

I love you, you'd like to say, you'd like to let him know, as you too plunge your hands into his hair and your breaths grow shorter and shorter and merge into each other.

His arms held you close to him all night, you did nothing but exchange long caresses, glances and kisses. And that was enough for you. You wake up with your head on his chest, your hair partly on his chest and partly on your shoulders, you raise your head slowly and look at Joel's face. His lips parted, his hair tousled - and it's partly your fault too - a serene expression on his face, his wrinkles barely noticeable. The grazes and bruises clash so much with his handsome face.

You gently stroke his forehead to check that he doesn't have a fever or any other problems; thankfully, everything is fine. He's breathing normally and doing well. You check that the stitches are still intact, once you are satisfied that all is well, you caress his face, his features, you feel under your fingers his unshaven beard, caress in a gesture entirely new to you his neck, his Adam's apple. You see him wrinkle his nose and furrow his brow, then slowly open his eyes finding your eyes at once, you smile at him and he smiles back.

"G' morning." you say smily.

"'Morning." he says with his voice still slurred from sleep "How long have you been awake?"

"A little while." you reply, giving him a kiss on his sternum.

"And what were ya doing?" he asks looking at you with his dark brown eyes.

"I was watching you. Sorry. . . maybe that's creepy for you. . ." you are about to say, but he smiles so you stop.

"Remember when we slept together at my house?" you nod "I watched you sleep, too. You were like a magnet, I couldn't stop doing it." he continues cupping your cheek, you close your eyes for a moment surrendering to his touch and feeling your heart beating fast "You were. . . you're beautiful." he says gently stroking your lower lip with his thumb.

"I wish. . ." you are about to say something you never thought you would have the courage to say out loud considering your lack of knowledge on the subject, in fact to tell the truth you thought you would only ever write it down in your stories and instead. . .

"Would you like to?" he urges you, stroking your hair.

"I would like to. . ." you bite your lower lip softly "I'd like to make love with you." you say all in one breath, now you would like to hide from his huge dark eyes that seem to want to read you inside, you see him swallow and then he caresses the contour of your face with a finger "Sorry, maybe. . . uhm. . . you don't want to, you don't. . ." you don't know how to continue.

"Who told you I don't want to?" he tells you wrinkling his forehead.

You look at him incredulously almost, blinking several times unable to comment on his answer.

"I just don't think you're ready yet."

"I am." you reply, trying to sound firm and tame that unfamiliar fire inside you.

"We should wait a little longer. I don't want you to have even more pain than necessary." he says moving a strand of hair behind your ear "Y' know it's going to hurt the first time, right?" you nod "I don't want you to feel even more pain because I didn't prepare you properly." he adds.

You lower your gaze for a second, "By prepare well. . . what exactly do you mean?" you ask, showing him once again your inexperience.

"When I feel better, we'll talk about it," he replies.

Interrupting that almost awkward moment there's your phone vibrating.

MOM, it appears on the screen.

Shit, you totally forgot.

"Hello?" you say snapping to your phone answering immediately.

"Weren't you supposed to call me as soon as you got here, were you?" she scolds you.

"Sorry, you're right, while we got the room and then settled in, the meetings. . . sorry." you look toward Joel who scrutinizes you with an indecipherable look.

"Is Kristen with you?" she asks.

"She went downstairs, we have a meeting soon and she went to get croissants before to start, I just got out of the shower."

"All right. So, I won't keep you, have a good day. Call me tonight."

"Alright, bye." you say interrupting the call and placing your cell phone on the bedside table.

You sigh and then turn your gaze to Joel, who stares thoughtfully at the ceiling, you stroke his arm and he looks back at you "You had to tell more lies." it's not a question, it's a statement, and his tone of voice is very, very bitter.

"I didn't tell her about-"

"Us?" he asks you "She asked about you and John though!" he retorts, returning to staring at the ceiling with a disappointed, regretful air "Right?" he adds, turning back to you.

"I only told her about Jack because it would have been more acceptable to her," you tell him, but then you regret what you said because you told him that he's no good.

He looks at you, his expression is full of pain "Got it," he only says, but you don't think he understood what you really wanted to say "Can you help me up?" he says, you want to tell him no, but his tone doesn't admit any other answer but yes.

You get up from the bed and go to his side, put your hands on his shoulder blades as he, too, clutches your forearms to give himself that push he needs to sit up; you feel against your hair his warm breath get short, "How's it going sitting up?" you ask him.

"Fine." he answers you, but his tone is icy; he's angry about what you said.

You kneel down in front of him, "Joel," you say laying a hand on his knee, "I'm sorry if you misunderstood, but I didn't mean that you're not good enough. I didn't mean that, sorry if I misspoke. You are everything to me. I've had a lot of firsts with you, you're the only one I trust completely, I've never slept with anyone, I've never allowed anyone to touch me, I've never allowed anyone to get into my heart." you tell him looking straight into his eyes hoping this time not to be misunderstood.

He says nothing, looking down at you with his huge dark eyes, his breath short from the exertion he has just made, "If I should get too much," he says, but you shush him by stepping even closer and telling him, "I don't want to hear it, it won't happen."

"If it should," he resumes, "I want you to tell me and I won't see you again, I won't look for you, I won't put you in a position to lie to be with me, but to be with that other guy. . ."

"Joel," you interrupt him again, "I broke up with Jack. I don't want to be with him, I don't want him. There's only you." you tell him, feeling his breath stop for a moment as well.

"I can't be mad at you," he admits, stroking your lower lip again with a finger "Come," he says making you sit on his lap, "The truth is you drive me crazy." he tells you slipping a hand through your hair making your face come closer to his "I wish you were happy away from me, but I don't want you to go away. I'm so selfish. . ."

You kiss him fleetingly on the lips, "I don't want to be away from you. Got it?" you ask him sinking your hands into his curls, resting your forehead against his causing your breaths to mingle, "Please don't doubt how you feel about me," you tell him, "Because I have no doubt."

He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing madly and your breaths growing shorter and shorter. He pushes you toward him, slipping his large, warm hands under your T-shirt and sitting you on his intimacy only covered by his boxers.

You never want to break this kiss, but you both need to catch your breath.

He caresses your arms, then looks long into your eyes as if to ask your permission, you nod giving him your silent consent, and he slips his hands under your T-shirt lifting it up and slipping it off with your help. You remain with your torso completely naked on him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but it feels so erotic, so beautiful, more beautiful than you ever thought.

You thought that feeling his gaze on your chest, on you, would make you strongly uncomfortable, you thought you would even freeze, and instead in a rush, which you didn't think you had, you bring his hands to your bare breasts. You both groan at that contact, "Can I kiss it?" he asks you without breaking eye contact, "Yes." you reply in a trembling voice.

Feeling his lips on your nipple makes you gasp and at the same time close your eyes, you let yourself go completely to his caresses. Feeling his unshaven beard there, his hot breath, his tongue licking you gently and his lips sucking gently your breast, lead you to moan and gently bite your lower lip. You press his head against your chest, perhaps hurting him, but it is a sensation that sends you completely out of the ordinary.

"I'd stay kissing your breast for hours, 's perfect. You are perfect." he tells you, moving from one breast to the other with a little pop.

"J - Joel… please…" you find yourself pleading without even knowing exactly what the next step to take is, your vision blurs, you press yourself harder against him making your intimacies cling together as well, he gasps "Touch me." you say, he pulls his face away from your chest and you, in a bold move, get up from him slipping off your briefs and sit back down on him, on his now clearly evident prominence.

"You drive me crazy." he tells you taking a long moment to observe you, you are completely naked on top of him while he's still wearing his now bulky T-shirt and boxers.

"Take me." you tell him, bringing his hands to your hips.

He smiles as if you have said something particularly funny, "What?" you ask him blinking.

"What have you done with the sweet version of you?" he asks you barely clasping his hands on your hips, you smile at him giving him a kiss first on his lips and then moving down his neck, feeling him hold his breath.

"I'm still the same." you answer him between kisses "Sweet and insecure, but other times I know what I want and you know thanks to who?" you add going up to his chin giving him a very light bite "Thanks to you." you resume looking into his eyes.

"If I could move freely…" he tells you as a small grimace appears on his face, causing him to furrow his brow.

"What would you do?" you ask, looking at him with eyes full of curiosity and lust.

He swallows, moves a strand of your hair and then with his hands descends back down to your intimacy, wraps it completely in his hand and caresses your outer lips with a finger. You hold your breath tightening your grip on his shoulders, you look into his eyes as if seeking safety, he kisses the tip of your nose as he continues that exhausting caress. Your intimacy throbs, you feel yourself on fire as he continues those movements with a slow cadence making you want to be filled completely by his big finger.

"Joel…" you moan, pressing even harder against his chest eager for more clutch.

Finally, oh finally, his finger sinks inside you, inch by inch, it's a sensation that makes you hold your breath, but you deeply desired, he stays still for a while then slowly begins to pump in and out, the rhythm makes you moan and close your eyes. After a while he stops and you, with blurred vision, look at him puzzled, "Now I will insert another finger, if you have pain tell me and I will stop."

A second finger? It will never go in, or will it?

He must have noticed the bewilderment on your face because he reassures you, "Don't worry, I'll go very slowly. I won't do anything that will hurt you, okay?" you nod, "You tell me if you want me to stop, though," he reiterates.

A second finger enters you very, very slowly, sinking even more slowly than the first in your throbbing cunt. You feel your walls almost give way to his passage, you groan and close your eyes, it feels. . . strange, but so. . . you are at a loss for words. It's even better than you could have thought!

With the palm of his hand he rubs your clit sending more discharges of pure lust all along your body, you moan shamelessly rubbing yourself against him, "Joel. . . oh. . ." you can't speak, he lays his other hand at the base of your back stroking you with slow gestures, "I'm going to. . . I'm going to. . ."

"'s okay, just let go." his words are enough, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you at an ever-increasing pace, his hand caressing you is enough to make you close your eyes and let out a long resounding moan.

You let go, abandoning your head on his shoulder as he continues to pump gently still in and out of you, then he pulls his fingers away from you and you feel his hands encircling you and moving closer to your torso and then placing a kiss between your shoulder and your neck, "'s okay." he says then giving you another kiss on your neck and moving your hair causing you to shiver.

When you open your eyes again, you notice how visibly aroused he is, how his arousal is. . . big, very big, you have chills. You want to make love with him, but he will never fit that inside you.

He lays a kiss on your forehead, then you look up and meet his eyes, "We were fighting. . . and then. . ." he says with a smile, a smile you return, "then you realized the reason was futile." you complete. He nods, "You are. . ." he sighs noisily "so important to me, to my life, to my heart." he admits, caressing your face and scrutinizing you for a long time. You press yourself against him wrapping your arms around his neck, he groans. You sat on him completely, you also jerk and lower your gaze, "No." he says almost interpreting your look.

"Why don't you want me to touch you like you do with me?" you ask him intentionally settling better on him causing him to close his eyes and part his lips.

"I think you've already had another first for today. Let's take it slow." he says, "We'll do that too, honey, I promise." he says stroking your bare back in a slow motion that makes you close your eyes.

"I'd like to make you feel as good as you did me," you tell him looking into his eyes, "I don't want to touch you if you don't want to, but now it's your turn. You can't just worry about me, tell me what to do."

"It's… not…" he's about to complain, but you move a little awkwardly on his shaft and he finds himself swallowing, "it's. . . not necessary. . ."

"Joel!" you call back to him, "Really, tell me what to do." you add, this time intentionally touching his intimacy with yours.

"Fuck. . ." he groans closing his eyes, sighing noisily. He places his hands on your hips and moves you back and forth on his bulge, you both moan at that clutch, "Oh, fuck," he groans again gasping as you place your hands on his shoulders continuing to rub against him, "That's so. . . oh, baby, I. . ." his expression is tense, the vein on his neck clearly visible.

"Joel. . . don't stop." you moan as you move closer to him and give him kisses along the vein on his neck, you feel him gasp, move you on him a few more times and then he lets out a long resounding moan that deliciously fills your ears and leads you to encircle his neck with your arms as you too feel you have experienced a second orgasm just in rubbing against his manhood.

You stay like that against each other for a while longer, then you shift and slip on your briefs again, feel his burning gaze follow you, look up and meet his eyes, slip your T-shirt back on and put on a pair of shorts trying to ignore that almost clutching feeling at the pit of your stomach.

"You hungry?" you ask him.

He nods.

"Pancakes? Or ham and eggs?" you offer him.

"Coffee." he replies with a relaxed expression painted on his face.

"You can't have breakfast with just coffee, you know what happens? You get annoying." you look at him with an amused look making him visibly relax "Do you want to wash up first? Shall I give you a hand?"

He looks at you amused, "Nice try."

You blush, "I'm serious. . . I didn't mean anything."

"Then why are ya all flushed?" he asks relaxing completely.

"Because … I'm not used to these allusions, I always hated 'em. Gina, my friend, makes constant allusions to sex, and it always makes me uncomfortable." you confide to him.

"Why?" he asks cocking his head to one side with a small grimace twitching his face.

You sit down next to him, "I always saw sex as something awkward, strange. . . maybe because I didn't know my body, maybe because I never shared a truly intimate moment with another person, and maybe because I looked at sex as something deeply intimate and not to be talked about like that." you confide again "Do you think I'm strange?" you ask turning to him.

"Not at all. I'm a lucky old man." he says "Not everyone approaches sex immediately."

You nod, "Well, would you rather wash first - no innuendo - and then eat?"

"Okay, will you help me?" he asks looking to his side.

"Does it hurt?" you ask as you stand up and help him to his feet.

"A little, I think the painkillers wore off by now," he replies.

"Lean on me," you tell him, encircling his waist with your arm; he smiles at you, "Don't worry."

You help him get to the bathroom, then take off his T-shirt revealing himself in his might, he reveals to you once again his broad torso full of old and new scars and you again stand almost open-mouthed, you are very attracted to that strip of dark hair disappearing into his boxers. You look away feeling yourself flaming again.

"May I ask how you fell and what you were doing in the dark?" you ask as you wash his shoulders paying attention to the recent cuts and bruises present.

"Tess…" he replies with a sigh, shaking his head "she never shuts up." shortly after he adds "I heard that if we didn't complete the work on at least the upstairs by the beginning of next week, we won't going to get paid and I want to get paid because I busted my back on that fucking construction site!" he blurts out "And instead I put my foot wrong and fell with those tools. I'm an old fool." he exclaims with a sigh.

"You're not at all, you wanted to get paid for the hard work! But even if they don't have to pay you this job, though, you'll find another one," you tell him, passing the sponge between his neck and shoulders.

He shakes his head, "I don't know, the truth is maybe I should stop giving myself over to these things and do something else, even though this is what I am." he concludes by lowering his head.

"Joel," you say stopping washing him and squatting down next to him "don't talk like that about yourself, you're 47 years old it's true, but that doesn't mean you have to quit, it's true yours is a dangerous job, but you can still do it. Maybe not open construction sites, you could renovate single-story houses, you could do something a little less dangerous." you tell him abandoning the sponge and stroking his face "Look at me, please" he finally looks up "You're fine like this, you're perfect like this. It happens to everyone to fail, but if for every failure we said I'm not good enough I'd better give up, well we wouldn't live anymore!"

His formerly sad eyes become sweet and serene again, he reaches out a hand to you and caresses one cheek, this contact makes you close your eyes, you surrender to him, as always, whenever you are with him.

"You're sweet, I've always said so."

You smile looking into his eyes, "We need each other, did you see?"

He nods, "I'm taking your advice. Will you take one from me?" you look at him questioningly, "I read that there's in Seattle a contest for new writers, entries are due in June, why don't you sign up?"

A contest for new writers? Oh, it's always been your dream to sign up for a literary contest, but Seattle is so far away. . . so far away from him.

"I know that look," he says making you look up at him, "you don't have to say yes or no right away, think about it. I'd like to know and see you accomplished. I'd like to see a picture of you everywhere that says writer of the year." he says smiley and making you smile "Or maybe see you win the Pulitzer Prize." he adds making you smile nervously as your vision blurs "I don't want you to stay in that ugly, dreary little town, you have so much potential. It would be a shame to waste it over there in a bar or even in a library, I have nothing against people who do those jobs," he tells you, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, "but I wouldn't want you to do that forever. You have a unique mind, you're brilliant, you're smart, you're too much to be confined only to yourself." you're crying, you can't hold back the tears anymore "Maybe someday someone might come and make some documentary about you and who knows they'll do some interviews around and they'll interview me too and I'll say I know her, I met the wonderful woman who's driving everybody crazy."

"Stop it," you tell him sobbing and hiding your face in your hands.

He calls you gently pulling you to him to hug you, you hide your face in the crook of his neck heedless of getting wet yourself. He holds you tightly to him, his hands caress your back, "'s okay, honey, 's okay." he says kissing your forehead, your cheek, your neck, your lips.

The truth is, you don't want to fulfill your dream if you know you have to leave him.

You surrender into his kisses, into his strong arms holding you to him trying to push that thought away as much as possible because, for you, it's not acceptable.

A/N Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏 The girl in the gif has the purpose to represent the situation only 🙂

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[drabblesandimagines]

Sliding Doors

Leon Kennedy x female reader, Chris Redfield x female reader, fluff, angst

For the lovely @porcelainseashore who commission a continuation from Forever Hold Your Peace. Thank you for all your love and support ❤️

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony…” the minister begins, but as you stand opposite Chris – a soft, adoring smile on his face, shedding a tear when he’d saw how beautiful you looked as you walked down the aisle – you can’t help but meet the gaze of the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment. “..speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Leon clenches his fists.

“No.”

It’s a muttered plea more than a loud proclamation, but it’s audible enough for several pairs of eyes to focus on him due to the interruption.

The minister smiles, awkwardly, his eyes flitting between the members of the bridal party to gauge whether it was a joke – heaven knows he’s seen them fall flat before - before he clears his throat to proceed with the vows.

“Christo-”

“No.” It’s louder that time, Leon’s voice echoed around the room like a gunshot.

“Not the time for your jokes, bud.” Chris forces out a laugh as he replies over his shoulder, before turning back to you and offering a reassuring smile.

“It’s not a joke.” You wish the ground would swallow you up as Leon remains focused on you. “Don’t marry him.”

“Leon”, Claire hisses from over your shoulder, looking furious. “What are you doing?”

He ignores her. “I’m not saying marry me, but just… Don’t marry him.”

You shake your head, subtly, eyes wide in fear as the small congregation of friends and family begin to whisper amongst themselves.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.

Chris’ fists are now clenched as he turns to his supposed best man, his brow furrowed as he tries to analyze the situation, his mind automatically heading into work mode – assess, strategize, action.

“What is this?”

Leon ignores Chris too, instead taking a step forward. “I’m different now – I swear. Just give me another chance. The connection’s still there – I know you felt it when we kissed-”

“Kissed?!” Chris and Claire reiterate almost in unison, and someone in the seated crowd gasps.

“What kiss?” Chris presses, turning back to look at you in disbelief. “Honey, what’s he talking about?”

Your mouth feels drier than it ever has, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “I didn’t, Chris… I… I mean, he…”

“I kissed her, Redfield.” Leon cuts across, rolling back his shoulders as he sidesteps in front of the groom, blocking you from his sight. “When you asked me to deliver that gift earlier, I kissed her. Can’t say it was the first time either.”

You should say something more coherent than your mumbled excuses – explain what Leon means by that because it definitely makes it sound worse than it is - but your heart is pounding and you’re beginning to feel a little faint.

This isn’t real, it’s a bad dream and you’re going to wake up in the hotel suite, Claire knocking on the door, hair stylist and make-up artist in tow to help you start getting ready.

The minister tries to soothe tensions instead. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private to-“

“What the fuck does that mean, Kennedy?”

“We were a thing-”

“We were not a thing, Leon,” you shift a little to the side then so you can see Chris, finding your voice at last.

You wished you hadn’t moved as hurt flashes across Chris’ face - sweet, loyal, dependable Chris.

Chris, who never fails to set up coffee machine timer to greet you with a freshly brewed batch when he has to leave early, who would always find some sort of way to communicate with you even if he was halfway across the world, who never shied away from holding your hand or kissing you in public, who told his closest colleagues about you openly, who didn’t treat you like a dirty little secret.

Chris, who, despite how much you tried to convince yourself, has never made you feel quite like Leon did.

“-before you two started dating.” Leon presses on, ignoring how the taller man’s shoulders grow more and more tense, seething breaths now coming out of his nose. “I treated her rotten, drove her into your arms and regretted it every minute since. I’m not gonna let her make the biggest mis-”

Chris’ fist meets Leon’s face – it’s so swift that the whole room takes a moment to realise what’s happened. The agent is surprisingly not knocked off his feet by the blow but stumbles back and you automatically reach out a hand to steady him by his arm, unaware of how it looks in that moment.

Leon wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth, looking smug as he relishes your touch. “Not gonna say I didn’t deserve that.”

Chris is staring at your hand on Leon’s arm and you pull it back when you see the hurt in his eyes, wringing your hands together as you begin to plead.

“I’m sorry, Chris. I should’ve told you, but it… It was nothing. A blip. It wasn’t anything like what we have. He kissed me earlier and I pushed him away and I told him. Please.”

“Is this why you were crying?” Claire demands, stepping over to stand besides Chris in an act of support. Her shoulders are high, ready to protect her brother at all costs. “In the suite earlier, when Leon was there.”

“N-no,” you shake your head furiously, but your voice isn’t convincing enough to your own ears, especially in comparison to Leon’s firm “Yes.”

You’re hot, the wedding gown of your dreams feeling stifling, too tight, the veil tugging heavily at your scalp.

“Chris, please, can we go talk somewhere?” You step forward, past Leon, hand outstretched to take your fiance’s. You want to take him away from all the prying eyes, the disbelieving murmurs, away from all the tension, have a discussion with clear heads, but he pulls his hand from out of your reach.

“Do you love him?” Chris’ voice is so flat it makes you feel sick. It’s the same tone he has when he comes back from missions where he’s lost comrades, the one that you can slowly break him out of after days of soft words and touches.

You never wanted to be the cause of it.

“It’s been years.” There’s the crack in your voice again, your next words a little too rushed. “I love you. You’re sweet. You’re so sweet, kind and loyal.”

Everything Leon wasn’t.

“I said, do you love Leon?”

You stare deep into Chris’ eyes then, his lips pressed together in a thin line. There had been something when Leon had kissed you less than an hour ago, how easily you’d almost fallen back into threading your fingers into his hair to deepen it, how your heartbeat had remained elevated since.

Leon is a wildcard and Chris is steady, dependable – everything you should want.

Everything you’ve been convincing yourself you did want.

One more look into your fiancee’s eyes is all it takes. He doesn’t deserve this but he does deserve the truth.

You take a shuddering breath and nod.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Right.” Chris nods, as casual as if he’s just been given his latest set of orders. He turns on his heels and heads back down the aisle – the aisle he was meant to be walking down with you on his arm as his new wife – with his head and shoulders held high, Claire hurrying after him, dropping your bouquet as she does.

As you stare at his retreating form, Leon slips his hand into yours and squeezes.

And, as tears begin to stream down your face again, you squeeze back.

--

He drove you away from the venue on his bike, your cheek pressed firmly against his back and your veil floating behind you in the wind.

Cars honked in celebration around you, all under the impression that a husband was taking his new wife for a celebratory ride, not that the best man had just absconded with the bride.

He takes you back to his apartment, a thing he’d never done when you were ‘together’, but it made sense now, considering. You lived with Chris, a two-storey on a cul-de-sac, white picket fence – you could hardly go back there today.

Or ever.

“What can I do, sweetheart?” Leon asks, cautiously, as you both stand in his living room a few feet apart. It feels more like a show-home than your place – no personal affects, the coffee table empty besides a remote control for the widescreen.  

“I… I need to get out of this.” You huff, ripping the veil from your scalp at last, the pins holding it in place scattering over his polished wooden floor and you fling it down on the sofa. You know you won’t be able to undo your dress yourself so you turn, flustered. “I can’t…”

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Leon soothes, closing the gap between the two of you and deftly unpicking the laces of the corset with nimble fingers. You feel it loosen immediately, but it doesn’t ease the suffocating feeling in your chest.

“There.” The dress drops a little and you quickly wrap your arms around yourself, keeping it up, before Leon steps around the coffee table, heading towards the hallway. “I’ll… I’ll grab you a change of clothes.”

Your clothes, right. They’re all at yours.

Oh, God, how are you going to get them?

How could you ever face Chris again?

You remain standing in the living room, forcing yourself to breathe deeply. You can hear Leon opening and closing some drawers, obviously looking for something that you can wear. He emerges a few moments later, holding a grey sweatshirt and some black gym shorts.

“I think these will work. Shorts have a drawstring, so…”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, down the hall, second door on your left.”

You take the clothes from his hand, avoiding eye contact and head to change. Your hands are shaking as you turn the lock, quickly shedding your dress and wedding night lingerie – not how you thought you’d be removing it tonight, that’s for sure, but you can’t bear to keep any of it on. Finally, you slide a lacey white garter off your thigh and bundle everything together into a ball, placing it on top of one of the two laundry baskets in the corner, noting he separates lights and darks.

You pull the sweatshirt over your head – it feels odd, oversized but not as oversized as any of the things you’d stolen from Chris’ dresser – before putting on the shorts and double-knotting the cord to keep them up.

You wet your face in the sink next, washing off your make-up as best you can. A glint catches your eye from your right hand – your engagement ring moved over in preparation for the wedding ring being slipped on.

You’ll need to return it.

Carefully, you pull it off your finger and place it on the sink, undoing the latch on the necklace Chris had sent Leon up with – does he regret that now? Is he sat somewhere with a whiskey, mulling over what would be different if he hadn’t sent his best man to the bridal suite? - and thread it through the chain, fastening it back around your neck and tucking it under the sweatshirt, out of sight.

You don’t want to wear it, really, the idea making you feel sick being adorned with gifts that Chris had picked out lovingly - but you don’t want to lose it somewhere in Leon’s apartment either.

Leon is still standing in the same place in the living room when you emerge, the only difference being his tie is now off and thrown over the coffee table, one hand in his pocket. You stop a couple of feet in front of him and stare, trying to read his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to say those things, baby. I just-” You throw yourself into his arms, sobbing – for what’s just occurred and for how horrible you feel when being in his arms immediately just feels so right, more natural than being wrapped in Chris’ ever did.

Leon presses kisses to your crown, pulls you back and down onto the sofa and hooks your legs up into his lap, rocking you back and forth like a child who needs consoling.

“It’s all right. It’ll be okay. And I’ll be better, I promise.” He murmurs against your ear when your sobs begin to slow, his white shirt significantly damp with your abundance of tears. “I’m not fucking up again. Not after this, baby. I’ll spend every damn day showing you how serious I am about you, about us.”

--

Chris remains a gentleman, despite everything. The first you hear from him is one week after the wedding, via email, letting you know that he’ll be out of the house for a few days if you’d like to go in and collect your things. He’s going to put the house on the market after, said he’s taken a new position within the BSAA and will be permanently relocating to the European branch, so doesn’t see the point in keeping it empty. It’s not surprising, really, Chris has been headhunted a couple of times since his work in Europe, but he’d always wanted to remain on American soil, with you.

He adds he’s going to sell the furniture as a job lot too, so to take anything you like and then leave the keys under the doormat once you’re done.

He signs it best regards.

He’s too nice for what you’ve done to him.

A fact Claire had reminded you of daily – scornful text messages and voicemails telling you exactly what she thinks of you and Leon. They cease only after Chris can be heard in the background of the final voicemail, telling her to stop.

You’re living in a short-term rental when you pick up your things – not that you would’ve taken any of the furniture anyway. You’d stayed at Leon’s for a week after, sleeping in his spare room. He’d returned to the venue and picked up the things you’d left in the bridal suite as you lay in bed, festering in the horrible combination of guilt and relief of what had transpired.

Leon wanted you to move in permanently, but you told him it was too much, too soon. You made demands this time, wanting to take it slow but also testing the limits of how much he had meant it when he said things would be different, that he would be different.

You were selfish with them at first – he had to date you properly, take you out for lunch, coffee and dinner dates, walks around the park, weekend trips away and trips to the movies, hold your hand and kiss you in public.

You told him you wanted him to try therapy, to learn how to communicate.

And, to his credit, he does it all. He hates the first three therapists, only managing a session or two with them, but he keeps going until he clicks with the fourth and sees them every Wednesday – always reschedules for another day of the week if he’s away with work.

You’re never sure how he’s going to be immediately after – sometimes he emerges with the weight of the world resting even more heavily on his shoulders, other times he seems to have a pep in his step until, gradually, he comes out lighter and lighter every time.

He tells you he loves you when you make a dumb joke over dinner in a cheesy diner – so loud in his proclamation that the waitress gives the two of you a slice of pie each on the house, extra whipped cream.

There are things he’s still uncomfortable with but he’s better at communicating, each of you compromising as you settle into the relationship.

“Do you want to get married?” He murmurs in your ear one night a year and a half later, spooning you against his bare chest. The bedroom has a pile of moving boxes stacked in the corner - your first night in your new, shared apartment.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you take one of his hands, fidget with his fingers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind either way,” he grasps hold of your wrist and rolls you over in a smooth notion. “Whatever you want.”

“Uh-uh,” you correct, “we’re partners, remember?”

“Right. Whatever we want.” He kisses you then, slowly, as if he has the whole night to while away. He’s never in a rush when it comes to you, not any more.

“I love you.” You mumble between kisses, feeling him smile as he captures your lips once again.

“I love you, sweetheart. Always and forever.”

--

“Leon?”

“Huh?” He’s spaced out – Chris, Claire, the minister and you all staring expectantly at him.

“Got the rings, man?” Chris is holding out his hand, an amused smile on his face.

Right, the rings.

Best man hands over the rings.

He stuffs his hand into his trouser pocket and tugs out the little mesh bag they’d been placed in. He can’t imagine Chris wearing his for long, not with his line of work. Leon wouldn’t either, truth be told. He’d get a nice chain, maybe, have it hang over his heart.

Chris takes the bag with a nod of thanks and empties them out onto the minister’s book, big fingers fumbling to pick up the ring he’s about to slide on your finger, following the minister’s prompts in reciting his vows.

Leon stares at you as you look up into Chris’ eyes, smiling so much your cheeks must hurt, and tries not to think about how when you had looked at him like that, he’d left you the next morning with nothing but a note on the pillow.

--

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you would please be upstanding for the new Mr and Mrs Redfield!”

Leon hadn’t realized he’d be sat next to you at the top table. He hadn’t thought much about the reception at all, besides the speech Chris asked him to make.

But, fuck, you look so happy walking in with him that it takes his breath away. Your fingers interlaced, surrounded by cheers and applause. Redfield can’t help himself – Leon wouldn’t either - swings you around and dips you into a kiss in the middle of the floor. You look embarrassed when he releases you, but there’s a giddy smile on your face too.

He couldn’t give you that. He couldn’t. He’s not sure Redfield can either – setting you up for disappointment and heartbreak.

He doesn’t know why anyone else is seated at the top table – you and Chris only have eyes for each other throughout dinner. He drinks more than he eats, wondering if he can make Redfield regret putting on an open bar.

“Now, for the best man – Leon Kennedy.”

He pulls the notecard out of his jacket pocket as he stands - he’d started writing it so many times but never got particularly far. That morning, he’d searched generic best man speech on his phone and jotted it down.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I’ll be keeping this short and sweet – two words you probably wouldn’t use to describe Chris Redfield.” He pauses, polite laughter rippling through the crowd.

“There’s two things being celebrated here today. The first being that it’s finally been acknowledged that I am, in fact, the best man between us.” He pauses again, taking a pre-emptive swig of his drink to help dull the ache of the words to come.

“Secondly, of course, the union of this… wonderful couple. May your lives be filled with love and happiness. To the bride and groom!”

The guests raise their glass in unison and Leon sits down heavily in his seat, downing the rest of his drink as Chris stands up, thanking Leon for his speech and leading an applause. He picks up a champagne flute and looks down at you, adoringly.

“Truthfully, I’m wondering if I should’ve gone first, because mine’s even shorter than Leon’s. Thank you all so much for coming here today to celebrate with us. All that’s really left to say is, I love you, darling – always and forever.”

Chris bends down to steal another kiss and the guests applaud and cheer once again – Leon swears it’s louder than what his speech received.

“I love you so much, Chris.”

Leon wishes it had been louder still to drown out your response.

--

“You ready?” Chris murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss against your jaw. You didn’t think it was possible – you’d never seen Chris drunk ever – but it seems the numerous glasses of champagne have gotten to his head. He’ll deny it in the morning if you accuse him, tell you it wasn’t the alcohol which was making him act that way, no, it was you that was making him love-drunk, before capturing your lips in a kiss.

You nod and squirm with a giggle, his stubble tickling your neck. You had sat down at the table for a breather, after completing a round of the tables to greet your guests as well as a couple of dances with your friends. You haven’t seen Leon since dinner and, truthfully, he’s the furthest thing from your mind ever since Chris slipped the ring on your finger. Your new husband takes your hand and grabs a chair with the other, leading you to the middle of the small dance floor and places it down. Once he’s happy, he lifts his other arm above his head to twirl you into position and down upon the chair.

You feel giddy – from love, champagne, happiness – as Chris kneels before you and gently begins to lift the hem of your dress up and over your knees.

Someone in the crowd wolf-whistles, probably one of the squad, and Chris turns in the direction to mockingly glare. He then resumes his work of pulling your dress up a little more, cautiously, until he found what he was looking for – a lacey white garter on your thigh.

Chris asking if you wanted to do the garter toss part of the ceremony had come completely out of left-field, so much so you were thankful you hadn’t taken a sip of your drink before he’d asked, lest you had spit it out in his face. He scratched the back of his head, gave you a dopey-looking smile that made you want to cuddle him rotten and said he wanted to do things by the book. He wanted the tradition, some sense of normalcy in his life with the whole white wedding, and having no strong feelings about it either way you’d agreed.

Now, though, as he looks up at you with that up-to-no-good smirk, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

“Hands or teeth?”

“Huh?”

He lightly pings the garter on your thigh. “Shall I remove it with my hands or teeth, darling?”

“Chris!” You laugh, sure he was joking.

He tilts his head. “Uh-uh. Pick, please.”

“Fine.” You smirk back, buoyed in confidence by the champagne. “Teeth.”

“Excellent choice, Mrs Redfield.” He plants a hand on your other leg to steady himself, before lowering his head and you feel his teeth graze your thigh as he nips the lacey material and begins to tug it down, all to the hooting and hollering of the assembled crowd.  

Leon takes a long sip of whiskey as he watches from the corner. He would’ve used his teeth to remove it too, but only in the sanctity of the bedroom later that night.

It flies over the heads and outstretched arms of the bachelors – Chris always did have a good throw - and eventually smacks Leon right in the chest.

“All right, Kennedy!” Somebody cheers, and before he can really think about it, he bends down and snatches up the garter, aware that the eyes of the room are on him. He holds it aloft in a mock display of triumph.

He looks for you then, wondering what you’ll think – a sign from the universe that you’ve made a mistake – but your eyes are fixed on Chris, cupping his face in your palms as he remains knelt in front of you, pressing a long kiss to his lips.

Leon stuffs the garter deep in his trouser pocket.

--

Leon doesn’t see either of you for six months – thanks to a relentless run of missions, intercontinental travel and briefings all keeping his mind occupied – and it helps dull the ache in his chest too.

An email pops up in his inbox though, inviting him to the Redfield’s housewarming BBQ in a couple of weeks, but he never replies to the RSVP.

Still, he finds himself parking his bike up outside the new house – it has a white picket fence, for fuck’s sake, nestled on a quiet suburban street. To his trained eye, he can see some additional security measures, so at least Redfield hasn’t become completely complacent. The gate clicks a little louder than usual when he opens it, probably linked to some sort of surveillance system, the panes of glass in the window are clearly bullet-proof and the front door is steel, disguised to blend in with the rest of the street.

He rings the doorbell – looking direct into the pinhole camera.

Chris answers soon after, a black apron on for grilling duties over blue jeans and a white tee. He looks good, annoyingly so compared to the dark rings Leon has under his own eyes, but he’s perhaps a little softer around the edges. Leon had heard down the grapevine that Chris had taken more of a consultant type role at the BSAA, office hours, trying to move away from always having his boots on the ground – something he never thought he’d see.

“Hey! You made it. It’s great to see you, man.” Chris greets him, a genuine smile on his face. “Perfect timing – I’m just about to fire up the grill. We’re all just out in the yard.”

He steps over the threshold – his eyes immediately finding the framed wedding photo on the hall table, the one where you’d all signed the registry and the photographer had Leon stand by your side and Claire by Chris’.

He wonders if, when you look at it, you can tell his smile is fake.

He doesn’t take in much else of the house as he’s led through, instead forcing himself to take a deep breath in preparation of seeing you again. He’s tried to forget about the kiss through a string of dates from the office and one-night stands, but he still has your stolen garter tucked in the back of his bedside drawer.

It’s over, he chastises himself.

It didn’t even really begin either.

You’re facing away from him when he follows Chris through the kitchen and out onto wooden decking, a set of stairs leading down to a large rectangle of grass. There’s a good 15 or so in attendance, only a handful of people present that he recognizes, some from the wedding, all congregated in little groups, a long table set up with bowls of salad, chips, rolls, sauces and other snacks, a bucket of ice, rapidly melting in the midday sun, in which various drinks are nestled.

You’re talking to Claire and a guy he doesn’t recognize, but he has his arm draped around her shoulders. You’re dressed in a sweet floral sundress, capped sleeves, white sandals. He wants to slip in to the conversation, no fuss, no announcement, but Chris has other ideas.

“Hey, Leon’s here!”

You turn at your husband’s call, a little surprised. Chris had told you he’d invited Leon, of course, but noted that he hadn’t accepted or denied. Really, you weren’t sure if he’d show at all, given what had happened at the wedding and the fact he’d been off-grid for so long after.

Those bright blue eyes only meet yours for a moment before they trail down to your stomach, and the protective hand you’ve placed on top of it – only a recent habit since your bump had properly popped.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chuckles, clocking on to exactly what Leon is staring at. He slaps him on the back, ushering him forward as he does. Leon wants to dig his heels in, maybe if he keeps his distance it won’t be real and only a trick of perspective, but his legs won’t co-operate.

“Sorry, should’ve said - turns out we brought more back than souvenirs from the honeymoon.”

Claire groans. “Are you going to use that line on everyone, Chris? It’s too early for you to be cracking out dad jokes.” She takes a swig of her beer, before nodding at Leon. “Hey.”

Leon nods in Claire’s direction, but his eyes are still fixed on you.

“Leon.” You smile, a little worried at how much colour has drained from the agent’s face. “We’re so glad you could make it. It’s been ages!”

“I…” He swallows, shaking his head a little as if he could shake off the feeling of disbelief. “Congratulations. On the house and the… baby.”

Redfield smirks as he steps over from Leon’s side to yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to press a kiss to your temple. “Thanks, bud. Gotta admit, I’m feeling a pretty lucky guy.”

“The luckiest.”

Chris cocks his head at the lack of sarcasm, almost put off by how genuine Leon sounded.

“Sorry, is there any more beer?” Someone he doesn’t recognize – one of yours or Chris’ other friends, maybe – interrupts.

“Of course! I’ll go get it.” You barely make it a step out of Chris’ embrace before he wraps his hand around your arm and stills you with a furrowed brow.

“Babe, we tal-“

“We talked about me carrying heavy things.” You correct with a feigned huff. “The baby will be heavier than a box of beer.”

Chris looks apologetic. “All I was gonna say is you need to be careful – don’t want you wearing yourself out and missing the party.” Leon feels a stabbing pain once again in his chest as he watches Redfield cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s be honest, darling, you’re usually on your second nap by this time.”

You pout, more so annoyed that Chris is right. The move, plus the second trimester had you feeling permanently fatigued. “True, but-”

“Let me go grab the beer,” Leon interrupts and Chris drops his hand from your face, as if he just realized Leon was still there. “Just tell me where.”

You frown at his offer. “You’re a guest.”

“A lousy guest - didn’t even bring a housewarming gift,” he berates himself. “Being the beer lackey can be it.”

“You didn’t need to get us anything – your company’s gift enough.” You place a hand on his arm and squeeze in reassurance - he swears his heart skips a beat. “It’s probably easier if I show you where. Come on.”

“Thanks, Leon.” Chris pats him on the back and turns to the grill, declaring it hot enough to finally start cooking.

Leon follows you, dutifully, back up the steps onto the decking, one hand poised ready to steady you if need be. You lead him towards the opposite end of the kitchen and towards the pantry, hesitating before you open the door.

“I’m sorry, if this was a shock.” You jerk your chin down at your stomach. “We were just sorta telling people as and when we saw them, rather than do any real big announcement.”

“Yet you announced the house?”

You smile, wryly. “I think Chris just wanted an excuse to buy that grill. He’s trying out lots of hobbies. I caught him looking up ride-on mowers the other night.”

“Heard he’s office-based now.” There’s a beat and it comes out before he can even think, always ready to justify his actions even when no-one’s called for it. “I couldn’t have done that for you.”

Suddenly, you’re thrown back to that hour before your wedding – something you truthfully hadn’t thought of until this moment.

“You think I asked Chris to do that? That I demanded a wedding and a house and a baby and…” Your voice cracks a little before you take a deep breath. Your emotions are high strung enough at the moment with the pregnancy and you try to compose yourself, digging your nails into your palms.

“You know what? No – I’m not going through this again. Relationships are about compromises on both sides, it’s unfortunate that’s what you still don’t seem to understand.”

You slide open the pantry door then, pointing to the back where a couple of boxes of beer are stacked, in amongst tubs of protein powder. “Just grab any of those, please. I’ll see you outside.”

Leon’s hand wraps around your wrist as you step away. It isn’t a firm grip by any means, just holding you loosely in place. “Just tell me one thing - are you happy?”

“I’m really happy, Leon.” You reply without a beat’s hesitation, because you are. “I hope one day you allow yourself to be happy too.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, only drops his grip on your wrist and turns into the pantry in the guise of retrieving the beer. It’s only when he hears you step back out onto the decking that he bends to pick up the box, half wondering if he should just quietly leave now.

No, that would only cause you grief, surely. He’s done enough of that.

After a few moments have passed, he lifts up the box and heads out, pulling the door shut to the pantry behind him. He heads back out into the yard, pausing at the top of the stairs to see you back at your husband’s side, laughing at something he’s said, looking up at him like he’s everything.

Chris wraps his arms around you, helping you up to your tip-toes so he can kiss you as passionately as he did on the wedding day, and every day since.

Claire wonders, loudly, whether your honeymoon phase will ever be over, but she’s smiling as she says it.

Leon silently carries over the box and opens it, adding a couple more cans of beer to the ice bucket before Claire hands him an open one, proposing a toast to the new house and baby Redfield.

Instead, Leon toasts to the life he could’ve had.

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #chris redfield x you #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield angst #chris redfield fluff

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 5 ]

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Back from the dead… Did you miss my loves? ;) Fair warning: this part is a bit tedious and emotional. Also, please go check out @lustylita. Their art is divine, and I'm addicted to seeing it! I bet you'll love their work, too!

WARNINGS; [ MDNI ] + [ MENTIONS & DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD & HORROR ] + [ PREGNANCY TROPE...I know but just deal with it for now... ] + [ANGST ] + [ CANNIBALISM ]

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There was so much blood; it was all you could see, painted over every surface you laid your eyes on.

It drenched your skin, trickling from your shaky hands to the void below your feet, filling the space drop by drop like an un-fillable pool.

A heavy smell of iron and decay engulfed your senses, pungent and nauseating. It was nothing like you'd imagined the color red to smell, far from the sweet scent of a blossoming spring rose or a freshly picked basket of crisp apples. The texture did nothing to offset the unsettling substance; it was lukewarm, thick, and seemingly unable to dissipate.

You tried wiping it away, smearing it on any other surface but your skin; however, more would congeal out of thin air. It was frightening, maddening even, and you became desperate to wipe it off with all your might.

Why wouldn't it just disappear?

Where was it coming from?!

Were you going to drown in it?!

An overwhelming shroud of dread consumed you, a scream of utter horror ripping from your chest as the blood beneath your feat rose rapidly, and all you could do was stumble in it: no doors, no openings, no light. Just an endless void produced a never-ending stream of horror that clung to you like glue. You'd never wanted to escape something so badly, falling to your knees as shock racked your minor form, "Let me out! Make it stop! Please, somebody, make it stop!"

Tears streamed down your face, disappearing into the sea of red, aiding nothing but your inner panic.

This had to be some nightmare. A terrible dream you'd awake from at any minute.

It had to be, or the distant screams that were emerging from the darkness would've taken shape into anything but the disfigured bodies floating around you. Each one more mangled the last, terror written over every corpse's face -what was left of it anyway- and you almost envied their deceased state. They'd long passed on, strangers to you, but ever present in these horrific nightmares that worsened the closer you got to giving birth. At least they were dead, fortunate enough to plague your nightmares and not endure this cycle of torture, but they were the sole reason you lost more and more sleep.

You knew this part of the nightmare well; those bodies would remain, but a familiar mix of voices would emerge. You recognized Alastor's sultry tone first, used to hearing it, but the childlike giggles that mingled after his words were newer to you.

"Curiouser and curiouser said little Alice…" he hummed in delight, earning another string of giggles and drawing your attention in their direction.

There he sat, an arm's length away from you, two small children nestled in his lap, their faces hidden behind the book in his hands.

"Alastor?.." you whispered, hoping to gain his attention, unsure if what you saw was real but desperate for a sense of safety. He didn't budge, continuing to read as if you'd never spoken, "The white rabbit scampered off faster and faster, leaving her to wonder and shout after him…"

The children in his lap swung their tiny feet excitedly, voices muffled as they inquired about the story, and Alastor chuckled at their enthusiasm.

What the fuck is happening?...

Anger and confusion consumed your thoughts, urging you to stand and stalk to where your husband sat. He still ignored you, eyes never leaving the book and his smile widening as you drew closer. It was then that you saw it: splatters of blood on his face, hands, and clothes.

Just the same as the night he went hunting, a memory you'd yet to forget, and it seemed your conscience refused to let it go. You tried again to gain his attention, stepping behind him to see the children he held, but he gave no answer, and their faces appeared to blur.

Two things were clear: their smiles mirrored Alastor's perfectly, and their white clothes were stained with blood. Your stomach twisted in knots at the sight, a deep unease settling over you as they reached for you, hands covered in red like Alastor's. Panic overtook you then, your horrified screams overlapping their cheery giggles and his constant reading.

It was all too much, too vivid, and scarring.

You needed to wake up, or you'd surely lose your mind.

So, you screamed, shutting your eyes tight to block out the sight and shrinking away from it in hopes of escape.

"Y/n!?.. Sweetheart, wake up. Open your eyes, come on now," Alastor sat up in your shared bed, gently shaking your shoulders and carefully shifting to hover above you. He awoke to the sounds of your sharp, frantic breathing, recently accustomed to the sounds that stemmed from vivid night terrors. This was your third nightmare of the week, a bad one from what he could gather out of your strained expression and the stray tears staining your cheeks; how he hated to see his darling wife in peril, harboring a deep resentment to whatever troubled your lovely mind but unable to console you completely.

Alastor did not care about many things, and seeing you frantic amid sleep was one of them. As beautiful as you were laying beside him, round with his children and ever so content to bear them, he knew the least he could do was soothe your troubles, even if they were his fault, to begin with.

"Ma chere, wake up. I'm right here…" Alastor tried again to rouse you, and this time, your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. "A-alastor?…" you choked on a quiet sob, crying silently as his face came into focus, and though you wanted to feel comforted by his attentive nature, the only thing on your mind was the details of your nightmare coming to life.

Blood.

His, yours, a strangers?

It didn't matter where it came from, but the notion of how it stuck to your husband's skin and clothes that night he left your side as if he'd willingly bathed in it stuck with you far longer than anticipated.

Alastor studied your expressions carefully, not bothering to wear his glasses in the dead of night to see you when the pale moon gave enough light to do so, but oh, how it pained him to see you crying.

"My dear…shh, it's alright. You're safe and sound with me. No need to cry." He lay beside you again, sitting up just enough to caress your head into his chest. Though his words were sweet and loving, your tears only flowed faster hearing them.

It was as if you couldn't help yourself, wanting to feel secure in his arms but fearful of him simultaneously. Alastair had never treated you harshly, bad-mouthed you, or given any indication that he had anything negative to say about your character. So, why couldn't you let go of your anxiety around him, see him in your dreams as the lovely man you'd grown to love and marry, or scrub the image of that single night from your conscience?

He was hunting. He was hunting. He was hunting.

That's what you kept telling yourself, trying not to consider the other odd things that occurred that night, but it didn't prove easy. Night terrors became crying fits, and baseless doubts morphed into suspicions you weren't entirely ready to investigate.

You'd been with Alastor for too long and assumed you knew him like others since he was your husband and a soon-to-be father of your children. What kind of wife harbors unfounded fears toward their spouse? It broke your heart to consider such a fault in your character, adding to the ache in your chest as sobs dwindled into slowed buffs of breath, and after a moment of breathing steadily, you quieted down.

Alastor remained calm the whole time, humming a new tune he'd aired on his broadcast a few nights prior, but as your cries subsided, he resorted to muttering comforting words to you again.

"These nightmares won't last forever, darling." He kissed the top of your head, glancing down at your fully round stomach hidden under the covers. His shadows lurked closer as he stared at it, heightening his hearing range enough to act his habit of listening for any irregularities in the babies' or your heartbeat. Still, when he heard none, his focus returned to you entirely. "I know.." you mumble hoarsely, tired from crying and somewhat frustrated with your thoughts. The subtle flutters in your abdomen didn't help your predicament either, a prime signal that your restless dreaming had stirred a craving and, ultimately, another reason for you to be awake at an unusual hour.

So much for sleeping well while pregnant.

You thought bitterly, moving to sit up and gather your bearings before making any move to find a late-night snack in the kitchen. Alastor eyed you carefully, smiling softly at the sight of your small form emerging from the mass of covers, unable to stop admiring your delicate beauty that practically amplified itself as you got closer to giving birth. Your curves filled out the silk nightgown you wore nicely, your hair growing long enough to reach your back even while frazzled from sleep, and your skin seemed to always glow without blemishes.

What he favored admiring most was how you carried his children; small as you were, many thought twins would give you problems, but their assumptions couldn't be further from the truth. You, his darling wife, were more patient than most, and though you possessed a soft heart, your will was solid. That is why Alastor could not stand the thought of you being in turmoil. For eight months, he kept his regular life routine consistent, sparing any time he could to spend with you, but as of late, your terrors and mental state seemed unbalanced, which prompted the radio host to be home more often.

Alastor believed his constant presence was helping, comforting you in some way, but little did he know that your troubled behavior worsened because of it.

You finally sat up straight in bed with a bit of help from him, swiping away any tears left on your cheeks while catching your breath, but the latter task proved difficult as the movement in your belly doubled.

"Oh goodness…they never rest," you exhale sharply, trying to mask your annoyed tone with a flit of soft laughter, but Alastor picks up on your irritation immediately. It almost annoys you how fast he reads you, but you can't seem to tell he's the reason you've been acting off.

"Well, I'd be worried if they did, ma chere, but you seem rather fed up with it." he met your tired gaze, eyes alight with affectionate mischief, but you found nothing he said amusing at that moment.

Especially when the image of him covered in blood with the same look in his eyes crossed your mind.

"How could you say such a thing?!.." you snapped at Alastor, glaring his way before hurrying out of bed, snatching up your robe from the end of it as he tried to process your sudden outburst.

He'd never been one to be left dumbfounded, but you'd managed to leave him that way countless times in recent weeks. Unfortunately, it couldn't be prevented since the unruly nature of hormones made your gentle demeanor prickly.

He hated it, not knowing how to handle you and being very unsure of his ability to do so.

"A crude jokester you are, Al. I can not believe you!" you grumbled angrily, slipping on your robe and reaching for the door when it was secure around your body. He took a deep breath, standing out of bed, taking a moment to think. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand.

"My dear, wait-" Alastor called for you calmly, placing his glasses on with a heavy sigh, leaving his chest as you ignored him and left the room to trek downstairs.

Dramatic little thing, isn't she?

Hush up. It'll pass like all the other fits…

I wouldn't be so sure of that, my friend.

His shadows loomed in the darkest corners, embodying his hidden concerns but remaking still as he followed your path to the kitchen. He found you rummaging the cabinets, frustration peeking through your expression and flurry movements. You tried to keep from crying again as you searched for something to eat that would satisfy the lurking hunger pregnancy caused. Besides the medically recommended meals and traditional diets your doctor advised you to adhere to, you often opted for dishes Amgelique had told you to indulge in. Most included rarely done meats cooked by her, Alastor, or Rosie. She'd also given you specific fruits, herbs, and vegetables to ingest. All of which curves your appetite better than any doctor's diet.

Luckily, Rosie had stopped by earlier in the day with dishes shed prepared for you, and when the memory reoccurred, you rushed over to the fridge to find them.

There they sat, platters of food, some full of meat you couldn't quite figure out its origin, and others filled with various sweets and fruit. Alastor watched as a content smile adorned your face, returning your dark expression to its bright state. With a careful hand, you took a plate from the fridge, laying the other on your round belly while gently uncovering the platter. "One little bite, and it's back to bed," you whispered to no one in particular. Now, you were searching for a pan to reheat the food with, but your search halted, and you felt familiar hands rest on your hips.

You frowned, pouting stubbornly as his chest met your back.

Did he not understand you were angry with him at the moment?

"Al, please leave me be. Go back to bed and get some rest," you mumble dismissively, attempting to slip away from his embrace, but Alastor refuses to let you go. "No," he firmly states, peppering kisses along your shoulder and neck and stopping behind your ear, "I can't stand when you're upset with me, sweetheart. Let alone sleep when I know I've done or said something to offend you."

You try to hold a glare at the wall in front of you, swallowing an excited gasp as his lips find an overly sensitive spot on your neck, but it only takes a moment for you to cave. "Mmph..Al..," you whisper tentatively, relaxing into his taller frame as he passes a hand up and down your stomach. "Darling," he utters, voice smooth in your ear and breath cool against your neck. The endearing title makes your heart flutter, and your anger slowly dissipates hearing it. A light shiver racks your spine, bringing a coy smile to your face as you turn to face him head-on.

The dreamy look in his amber-brown eyes captivated you instantly, expressing the apology he was bound to give you -as ridiculous as the point of it was. Still, you accepted it, forgetting your hunger for a moment to hear what he had to say.

"It wasn't my intention to upset you, ma chere,"

You nodded, not avoiding the ginger kiss he placed on your forehead while running a hand through your hair.

"I shall be more careful with my words in the future. Will you forgive me this once?.." Alastor held your stare, letting the question linger before glancing at your swollen stomach. You followed his gaze, resolved to soften at the sight of his large hand lying atop yours, gently rising from the languid kicks produced by the children inside.

Your wedding rings glinted in the golden light of the kitchen chandelier, reminding you that Alastor was more than just a man who'd inadvertently hurt your feelings, but rather your husband who'd made an effort to apologize for his mistake.

Apologizing didn't come easy to him, nor did admitting his faults, so you forgave him despite feeling a twinge of unease about letting him off the hook.

"I forgive you, Al."

A tenderness enveloped your response, earning a soft smile that proceeded to a lingering kiss on your lips. Alastor leaned into your touch as your hands reached to cup his face; humming softly, you accepted his tongue into your warm mouth. You melted in his hold, trying to forget your nightmares, irrational anger, and suspicions as the kiss became intense.

His hands found your waist, keeping you close with cautious strength, trying his best to ignore the arousal he felt as your filled-out curves molded to his touch, but the sliver of restraint he had snapped when you moaned quietly into his mouth.

It was such a sweet sound, sending blood rushing to his cock faster than he cared to admit, and its effect didn't go unnoticed by you.

"I may have forgiven you, my love, but that doesn't mean you're completely out of the woods yet," you scold him playfully after pulling away from the kiss, giggling as he glares down at you, "And how, pray to tell, do I get 'completely out of the woods,' my dear?" You perk up, glancing at the plate on the counter, "Sharing a late-night dinner with me would be a good start."you suggest.

Alastor eyes the dish, immediately identifying the contents on it.

Rosie never failed to make the best meals for you, just like him and his mother, taking the time out to prepare prey he'd hunted down himself since he couldn't do it at home with you being there all the time, and trustworthy enough to not mention to you exactly what kind of meat you were being served.

After all, your children needed to be healthy, and Alastor was sure starting them off on a healthy diet similar to his would be beneficial in the long run.

He didn't mind a pair of miniature cannibals running around the house. If he played his cards right, you'd unknowingly continue to be one.

With all these factors in mind, your husband happily agreed to have a midnight meal with you,

"Well then, I have no choice but to join you, darling. I'll take care of the food, and you go lounge about in the parlor," he instructs, not leaving room for your assistance and being quick to get you comfortable until the meal is ready.

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The next day, Rosie stopped by with Mimzy, another good friend of Alastor's, but not a close one to you. After all, she had openly admitted to pining for your husband at your wedding reception. Although she was very drunk at the time, you couldn't bring yourself to get the whole ordeal. However, you were still cordial to each other most of the time, and it just so happened Rosie had run into her in town, which led to them deciding to visit.

"It's nice to see you again, Mimzy," you greet her with a tight smile, letting Rosie help you sit on the sofa next to her as the stout blonde sat on an adjacent armchair before curtly responding. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Y/n? It seems you and Al have been pretty busy," Mimzy eyes your stomach, a cheeky grin plastered on her face as she refers to your current state, but the smile drops when Rosie cuts into the exchange.

"Now, now, Mimzy, don't be bitter," she throws her a slightly playful glare, ignoring the eye roll Mimzy gives in return as she focuses on you. "How are you feeling, dear? You're only a few weeks away, right?! Oh, I can't wait to meet the little devils!" her excitement pours off in waves, and you contract it without much resistance. Smiling wide, you express your thoughts while picking up the bundle of yarn you were crocheting into a pair of matching white onesies right before their surprise arrival.

"Oh, I feel wonderful! It's hard to breathe sometimes, and they kick quite a lot, but I suppose that means they're healthy!… I'm two weeks from what the doctor told us, but Alastors mother thinks I'll have them much sooner." You laugh, nervous about the delivery process but more than ready to give birth. Rosie squealed happily, hands clasped before her chest as she gushed over the news. "That's just wonderful to hear, dear! However, I agree with Al's mother about the due date. You look as if you're going to pop any minute!" Mimzy followed her light-hearted comment with a stiff grunt, "How exciting. Don't tell me all you have for them is…that?." The blonde motions a hand at your crochet project, clearly judging your lack of baby items, but before you can give her a snarky response, Rosie perks up again.

"Oh, that reminds me! Come this weekend, I will be hosting your shower, dear. Al and I arranged it some time ago as a surprise since there's a good chance you'll have them in a week. I'm spoiling it." She clapped eagerly, giggling at your shocked reaction, "I… I don't know what to say, Rosie? Th-thank you so much!" you shifted to give her a tight hug; she accepted it but pulled away to look you in the eyes.

"Al doesn't want you worrying about a thing. This party was his suggestion. I'm merely fulfilling a favor to friends…" she paused, lightly caressing your stomach with one hand before finishing her explanation. "…and my soon-to-be god niece and nephew."

You nod in agreement but raise a brow as confusion floods your features.

"Neice and Nephew?" you ask Rosie, and she sits up straight with a knowing smile. "Well, that's just my guess, honey. We can't be certain until they're out in the world."

Something about her words sent a chill up your spine, a stray suspicion creeping back into you, and curiosity filling your head as you recounted Alasror and his mother making similar comments.

They were so sure of the twins' genders that they never explained how they knew, but they were adamant that their assumptions weren't wrong.

How strange…

You peered at the onesies in your hand, fiddling with needles wrapped in yarn, in deep thought as Rosie and Mimzy chatted about the shower. More so Roise since Minzy grumbled about the whole ordeal…

For a while, you tuned them out, murmuring a response whenever they sought your input but generally reserved as they continued. Your mind was elsewhere, considering the reality of being a mother relatively soon and contemplating if your waning sanity would rebuild itself.

It was expected that you would feel fed up with pregnancy at some point; the aches, pains, and anticipation of it all would come to an end. You were grateful for it, but some ailments wouldn't easily be shaken off, and each one stemmed from an uncertainty you felt towards Alastor.

The nightmares.

The suspicions.

The guilt of losing trust in him.

The grudges cultivated from being lied to shut out of your husband's truths and treated so fragile as if you aren't already sacrificing your strength to make him happy.

You'd do anything for him. You'd done everything for him, yet in nine months, the small voice of doubt you chose to ignore for so long was now blaring like a siren.

He's hiding something from me…and they all know it.

You eyed Rosie as the thought crossed your mind, careful not to show your anger as it swelled in your chest, nearly bubbling over as the memories of her and everyone else reasonably close to Alastor doting on you for the past several months. All those smiles, the tidbits of odd advice, the cover-ups for when he was out late at night, and the absurd amount of times they'd all so clearly lied to your face.

It infuriated you…

You weren't stupid, quick to trust, but hardly a brainless woman.

Being treated like a porcelain doll, emotionally and mentally, was something you learned to endure since childhood. Your father believed it was for your good, that he was doing you a favor by sheltering you from the world's cruelty, and you hated it with a passion. Alastor was one of the few who knew this, but he'd blatantly begun to treat you just the same.

You were his wife, his supposed 'darling doe', but weren't nearly cherished enough to be told the truth?

To be a aware of whatever secret he was keeping?

He could proclaim his devotion loud and clear but shut you out in the same breath…

It hurt.

Plain and simple.

But one way or another, you'd get him to understand, make him see you as a confidant rather than a show doll to be kept in a glass cabinet, and come what may, you'd made up your mind.

You weren't weak and certainly not fond of being lied to.

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Fun fact: I finished Chapter 8 of this fic, and it's officially reached Novel level. Like 40 000 words type shit. I am beyond surprised at myself but proud nonetheless. I hope you don't mind the heavy angst in the following few chapters (including this one), but I had a purpose for this plot -not just straight smut. That isn't to say part 8 won't have any ;)... Anyway, give me some feedback on this one. I want to know where you guys think this story is headed...

TAGS ❤️: @rapturenyx @michi-keinz @shealizxx @nissrinina

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I'm never making it to heaven if I keep obsessing over this psychotic deer demon. Credits to creator ❤️

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hartfelt #human alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor fluff #alastor smut #alastor x reader #ao3 writer #ao3 author #alastor the radio demon #alastor fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #alastor cosplay #fanfic writer #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

[tiredfox64]

I have a request, I don't know if you already written one or similar but can you write about how Bihan and reader have been friends since they were kids and the reader is one of the few that Bihan would actually listen to, over time as they get older both of them start to see each other in a different way but couldn't admit it to each other until one night the reader has a dream involving being romantic with Bihan (NSFW if you want to) wakes up in shock and avoids Bihan out of fear that her feelings would be discovered and get rejected. Bihan notices this and tries to find out why and follows the reader who went on a mission for Liu Kang to gather champions and to understand why the reader has been distant.

Soo sorry if this is long, it was an idea popped into my head and I enjoy your writings on the Lin Kuei brothers.

Ruin Our Friendship

Yip Notes: No need to apologize! Dreams are crazy tbh. I had a dream a few days ago where I constantly told Shang Tsung I hate him but I love him and that he was my pookie. It was wack.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings: None I promise

Since you were born, you and Bi-Han have been side by side. His family and yours have been close for many years. It was no shock that you and Bi-Han would become friends by default.

You saw the best out of Bi-Han. You watched him better his cyromancy abilities. You were there when he became an older brother to Kuai Liang and Tomas. Though you did have to scold him multiple times to be nicer Tomas.

You were with him all throughout his life, watching every success and failure. In return, he was there for you. Even as his personality changed he was still the same boy you grew up with. A little bit colder and a little bit stronger but he was still a sweetheart in your eyes. He just doesn’t want you saying that in front of his clan since he is the grandmaster now. He has a reputation to keep up, ya know. He has to stay tough and fierce. But for you, he can loosen up a little.

Yes, your relationship with Bi-Han is strong. But it could be stronger. Much, much stronger. You could have a bond that not even the elder gods could break. A bond that Bi-Han would never allow anyone to disrupt it. You feel it and Bi-Han feels it. There is something there that you’ve noticed for a long time.

You thought this feeling was stupid, teenage hormones. As the years went on and on those teenage hormones became young adult hormones. Wait, those aren’t real. Admit it, you have feelings for your best friend. You’ve had feelings for a long time. For as long as you stay near Bi-Han those feelings will be nibbling at your insides like hookworms. Ignoring them or passing them off as something silly won’t get rid of them. You have to face the music one way or another.

The music will be a blast to the face.

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You toss and turn in your bed. Your mind was like a blaring horn. It wouldn’t shut up about Bi-Han.

Recently you’ve been noticing much more about Bi-Han. Mainly his physique. He sure turned into a fine, strong, and powerful man. Compared to everyone else in the Lin Kuei he was well-built. He had a body that could only be described as a masterpiece. He looked like he was carved by the hands of the greatest sculptors in history. His body type could only be found in grand museums. And oh that face, good heavens that face. An art piece right there. A well-sculptured face, well-trimmed eyebrows, dark chocolate eyes, and a perfect nose.

Woah alright! Your mind is winning too much. You have to sleep now or else you’ll be up all night thinking about Bi-Han.

You tried with all your might to fall asleep and luckily you did. Your body started to relax and your mind quieted down. You thought you would be free from the grasp of your feelings but you were wrong. Your emotions always find their way into your dreams.

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In a haze all you could see was Bi-Han. Everything you felt was because of Bi-Han. His arms wrapped around you in a cold embrace. Your head rested on his chest and listened to his calming heartbeat. His head rested on top of your head. In that moment you felt safe. There was no reason for you to hold back. You embraced him. Your breathing picked up as your heart began to feel many things. It felt warm, it felt tingly, it felt like it was fluttering, it felt right. It felt like…love. You were in love, your dreams were your confirmation.

The dream progressed with Bi-Han bringing his hands up to your face. He made you stare into his dark eyes before closing them. He leaned in close, very close. His lips lightly touched your lips and you felt his cold breath hit them. You leaned in with your lips slightly parted. The kiss felt so real. The idea that this was all a dream was unrealistic now. The kiss grew more desperate and somewhat rough. It was passionate, it was loving. Your hands went up to hold his perfect face. He felt so real.

And then…

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“Bi-Han!” You shot up from your bed.

Your heart was beating fast. You strained your muscles from moving so quickly from laying down to sitting up. You were even slightly dizzy.

This can’t be happening to you. You’re so madly in love with Bi-Han. You don’t want to be in love. You’re afraid. It’s reasonable to be afraid.

You’ve never seen Bi-Han with another girl. Never once went on a date or accepted his father’s suggestions on finding a bride. It got to the point that he vented to you about his frustrations on his father’s request. That was the moment you suspected he may never want to date someone. Which was fine at the time but now it’s different. Now you’re a desperate fool who’s in love.

Bi-Han can’t know about this. This could ruin a friendship that has lasted a lifetime. The idea of that crushes you. Going on without your best friend is the same as going on without the other half of your body. As much as you fear that he will find out and leave you, you fear that he will stay but reject you.

Rejection hurts like a rose thorn except you are unsure if you can remove the thorn. The thorn could stay for a few months or the rest of your adult life. Do you really want to take that risk and find out how long you could endure the pain? No, you don’t.

You’re only a girl, well, woman actually. But the point still stands about how you are afraid of getting hurt. So what will you do to prevent things from getting awkward or you getting hurt? You will stay clear of Bi-Han. That’s a bold move but if it’s what you wish to do then you must keep it on the downlow. You know how suspicious Bi-Han can get. When it comes to you he will spot it from a mile away.

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Well fuck my advice. You didn’t keep it on the downlow you kept it on the high ground.

Bi-Han noticed from the start that you were steering clear of him. You weren’t visiting even when he suggested that you come to practice for a little. He never heard back from you which made him think something fishy was going on. When he visited you he saw that you had your head down like you were ashamed about something. He didn’t say anything to your family members he made a beeline toward you.

“Is something the matter? You have not responded to any of my letters.”

He was walking close to you. You never realize how close he would get to you. That isn’t helping you right now. You couldn’t respond about his letters because you never looked at them. Every time a family member came around to pass you a letter from Bi-Han you would take it before storing it away.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t really…” You didn’t finish your sentence. The moment you saw a room you slipped inside to create distance from Bi-Han. You even locked the door for extra measures.

Bi-Han rarely gets mad at you but right now he is feeling a little ticked off. You are purposefully avoiding him and he can tell. You wish you didn’t have to but the moment you think about being honest with him your heart aches thinking about the possible consequences. It’s better if he doesn’t know. Once you get your emotions situated you will go back to him. For now, you are unable to.

Bi-Han was standing by the door, constantly knocking to the point your father had to go up to him and have him leave. He respects your dad but he wanted to tell him to back off. He hesitated and walked away. There had to be another way to get close to you and make you talk. He’ll have to figure that out for himself. If he asked for help many would get suspicious of him and his intentions.

Some days passed and an opportunity fell into his hands. Liu Kang told Bi-Han that he would need assistance when collecting his champions for the upcoming tournament. Bi-Han was unsure about providing help since he didn’t like being commanded by the fire god. That was until Liu Kang informed him that you would be helping. Immediately he switched up and said he would do it. You wouldn’t dare disobey Liu Kang so you won’t try to back out. Just for good measure, Bi-Han won’t let you know he is there until it’s too late.

The day came when you were supposed to see if Raiden and Kung Lao were ready. Liu Kang informed you to wait till they were done eating to begin the test. You noticed he was looking around like he was expecting someone else to come.

“Ah, Bi-Han, are you and your brothers ready?” Liu Kang shouted past your shoulder.

You froze up at the mention of Bi-Han. You swiftly turned around and saw him and his brothers standing there. You didn’t know they would be part of the test. Kuai Liang and Tomas were ready but Bi-Han seemed determined for something else. He was determined to call you out on your behavior.

You kept your cool and tried to slow your heartbeat. You all made your way to the tea house and you could feel Bi-Han’s eyes burning holes in the back of your head. Once you got there Liu Kang took his seat and you were all expected to hide till the Raiden and Kung Lao finished eating. Bi-Han had his brothers go their own way while he stayed with you. The moment his brothers walked away he grabbed your hand and forced you to come with him. You did your best to slow him down, even digging your heels into the ground but that did nothing. All it did was make grooves in the dirt.

Once you came to a spot to stay until the test started, he had you sit next to him. You expected him to say something but he didn’t. He was so silent that you couldn’t hear his breathing. His face was stone cold. He’s waiting for you to say something. You’re the one acting strange, not him. You’ll break eventually because he knows you can’t stand when it’s too quiet or he seems mad. But he’s always mad so the silence will be the thing that kills you.

The wind may have blown but no leaves rustled. Bugs were out but none buzzed, chirped, or hissed. Not even a squirrel came around to munch on an acorn. Seconds passed but to you it felt like centuries. This felt horrible.

“You’re upset with me, aren’t you?” You asked.

“I would not be mad if you would tell me what is going on with you.” Yeah, it’s you, not him.

“It’s nothing. I’ve been feeling off is all.”

“You are giving me an excuse. I want the answer.”

“Why do you need to know?” You ask as if he isn’t your best friend.

He didn’t respond. He was giving you the silent treatment to make you break. Yeah, it’s cruel but there isn’t any other choice. He could keep asking the same question over and over and you would keep giving him excuses. So the only tactic he could trust is silence. A long uncomfortable silence that will go on for seconds, minutes, possibly hours. You could keep talking but he will not respond in any way. No facial cues or words. You’re on your own.

Make a choice: Will you speak the truth or keep the silence going?

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you and I might have been in love with you for a long time.” And speak the truth you did.

You didn’t see Bi-Han’s face change from cold to slightly surprised. His eyebrows raised a little. You had your eyes shut tight like something bad would appear in front of you if you told the truth. You went on and on about when it started and everything you felt. You spoke about the dream in great detail which wasn’t necessary but it did amuse him. Now you wouldn’t shut up. You’re fine, he got the point. Have you gotten the point? No! Let Bi-Han help you.

You felt something grab at the front of your shirt before yanking you. Before you knew it you felt Bi-Han’s lips against yours. That dream of yours seemed to know how it would feel. You felt the cold breath against your lips and you felt how rough he was. Your eyes were wide open but his were closed. He pulled away after about thirty seconds and looked at you. He had a blank expression like he didn’t just kiss you.

“You never were truly direct in anything. You always gave excuses but never the answer. Was it truly that hard?” He asked but you were frozen.

Your brain was loading in the fact that Bi-Han, your best friend of many years, just kissed you. You pinched yourself just in case and yup, this was no dream. This is real life.

“I—You’re not mad? You’re fine with me having a crush on you?” You asked though this may not be a crush anymore.

“Is it really a crush if I make you my girlfriend right now?” He replied back.

“Well…no I guess.” You answered your question but now you have a million questions.

Let me help you out.

The reason Bi-Han was never interested in dating or taking his father’s suggestions was because he was only interested in you. When you started noticing how handsome Bi-Han was he started to notice how wonderful of a lady you have grown into. Your body matured and your beauty radiated like never before. Your personality didn’t change but evolved as you grew. You never became insufferable to him and you still were your old self. Even as you two were teens he knew he wanted you to be his lady for life. There was no competition, you were always the winner.

The reason he never approached you was because he’s not too good at that stuff. His brothers tried to help him and warned him that if he didn’t confess soon he would lose you to another man. He’s glad his brothers weren’t right because he would hate to admit that. Seems like he never needed to do all that fancy stuff and make an attempt to flirt. You two were made for each other. You both might have been soulmates from the start. Sounds pretty good to him. What about you?

Ah, you’re still in shock. Well at least the part where Bi-Han made you his girlfriend has set in. You just need to take in everything else that happened. Keep your mind sharp though you still have to do the test for Raiden and Kung Lao.

Bi-Han wouldn’t want his new girlfriend to be distracted and get hurt. That wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.

Yap notes: I did two fics today because I felt bad for not doing a request. I felt guilty and I don't like that feeling. But i felt okay once i put on summer playlists. I DON'T PRACTICE SANTERIA. I AIN'T GOT NO CRYSTAL BALL. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #bi han #bi han x you #bi han x reader #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han mortal kombat #mortal kombat bi han #sub zero x you #sub zero x reader #sub zero mk1 #sub zero

[daughterofthemoon11]

Stay.

(Satoru Gojo x Reader)

A/N: Fluff with a little angst at the end. SOME MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD BE CAREFUL!!, if you read chapter 236, you´re fine. English is not my first language so if you have any suggestions please let me know! 

There it was again, that stupid dream. It always ended the same way. You woke up with a start, your heart ached and you struggled to breathe. You glanced at the clock on your night table—it read 1:30 a.m. You slipped out of bed and made your way to the common room for a glass of water. You noticed a white-haired silhouette sneaking mochis into his pockets in the dim light. You couldn't help but smile. “Hey ´Toru”

Satoru turned, his eyes lighting up. “Hey, cutie!” He pulled you into a hug, then noticed your troubled expression. “What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, concern over his face.

Forcing a smile, you replied, “I’m okay. I just couldn’t sleep, so I went to get some water”

“And why didn’t you call me?” he asked, frowning. 

“I didn’t want to wake you.” You chuckled. His smile was reassuring. “Why are you up so late?” you asked, glancing at the clock. 

“I’m not sure… Let’s go for a walk,  it’ll be nice to get some air,” he suggested, smiling down at you.

“That would be nice, but if Yaga catches us, we’re dead,” you whispered, glancing nervously behind you.

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He reached out his hand, offering it to you. You smiled and took it.

Together, you walked into the forest on the school grounds. The night was quiet, with only the sound of crickets chirping. After a while, you reached a beautiful clearing where the trees formed a circle, creating a window to the night sky, sparkling with stars. You both sat down, silent for a while, just enjoying the moment.

“She looks so beautiful tonight,” you whispered, gazing at the moon.

“She does”. He replied softly, but his eyes were on you, not the stars.

“Look over there; you can even see Cassiopeia,” he pointed out a constellation. He knew you loved constellations and had learned some to show you.

You smiled wide, then looked at him. The moonlight illuminated his face, his ocean-blue eyes glowing, and his snowy hair shimmering like silver.

“You look so pretty, Satoru,” you said, smiling. He blushed slightly, still not used to your compliments after all this time.

“And you’re beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes filled with adoration. A playful smile tugged at your lips. “If you could just see the way the moonlight shines on you. You’re glowing.”

You chuckled, blushing a little. “You’re so cheesy.”

He smiled like a love-struck man. “Come lay with me,” he invited. You lay in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours.

“It’s really peaceful,” you murmured, resting your head on his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

He took a deep breath, his chest warming. “Yeah. I’m glad we’re here together,” he whispered.

“If I knew, I would’ve grabbed that glass of water sooner,” you joked, smiling.

He chuckled. “Yeah, we should get up in the middle of the night more often.” He looked down at you, his eyes softening. He ran his fingers through your hair, a comfortable silence falling over you.

Almost inaudibly, you whispered, “Satoru, I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

He continued to brush your hair out of your face with his fingertips, wondering what was on your mind. “What is it?” he asked, curious. “Is everything okay?”

You rushed an answer. “Yeah, it’s fine, I just—” The words stuck in your throat. He saw the hesitation in your eyes and felt your body tense.

“Hey, you know you can tell me anything. What’s going on?” He reassured you with a kind smile. You looked into his eyes. “I keep having this dream,” you said quietly, afraid that speaking louder might make it real. “A horrible one.”

His face grew serious as he listened closely. “What did you see in the dream?”

“We looked older, we were in a fight, everything around us was on fire and destroyed. I was running and looking for someone,” you said, tears filling your eyes. “Then I saw you and,” your voice broke, “Satoru, you didn’t make it.”

He watched as your tears started to fall, his heart clenching in his chest. He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you cried. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

You grew anxious. “Satoru, you need to promise me—” you let out a sob. “You need to promise…”

He lifted his hand and rested it on your cheek, gently wiping away your tears.

“I felt it, Satoru. I felt it all. I couldn’t take it, it was horrible, seeing you there. I–I held your body and—” You couldn't continue.

He imagined you holding his lifeless body in your arms, alone and devastated. His soul ached. “Hey, listen to me,” he held your face between his hands. “I’m here. I’m alive and well. I need you to look at me, okay?” You looked at him with a shaken expression, silent tears still falling from your eyes, “You need to promise me that when the time comes, you are not joining that fight.”

He looked firmly into your eyes. There was no hesitation in his voice when he spoke. “I won’t.” His touch was gentle, but his eyes were filled with determination. “I have no intention of joining any fight if it means leaving you behind. Understand?” You nodded slowly, grabbing his face and kissing him.

He felt the desperation in your kiss, the taste of your tears mixing with the sweet taste of your lips. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. When you pulled apart, he kept his forehead against yours. His voice was low and soft as he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Lost in the memory, you almost didn’t hear the bell ring. The sound jolted you back to the present, ten years had passed since that night under the stars. You were sitting in a room filled with other sorcerers, your students and colleagues. Your head rested on your now-husband’s shoulder, cherishing the moments since he had been freed from prison realm. Reality snapped back into focus as the signal echoed in the room, you knew it was time. You hugged everyone and wished them good luck, telling them to be careful.

With a deep breath, you and Satoru teleported to the arena where the fight would take place, anxiety creeping in. As you looked around and took in the view, your heart stopped. You felt dizzy and wanted to throw up. “Satoru,” you managed to say.

Satoru looked at you with concern; your face had gone pale, like you had seen a ghost. “Hey, are you okay?” He shook you gently, worried. “Can you hear me?”

You started murmuring incoherently as you recognized the place. Tears streamed down your cheeks. Satoru, now desperate, asked, “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” He was about to take you in his arms to seek help when you whispered, “This is the place I dreamt about all those years ago.”

His eyes widened as he took in your expression. Everything started to make sense—your dream, the look of horror on your face. His heart began to race as he realized the nightmare you had all those years ago was unfolding right before your eyes. 

He looked around, taking in the destroyed streets and shattered buildings. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and sulfur from the flames still burning. Everything was eerily quiet except for the distant sounds of fighting. His mind raced, a pit forming in his stomach.

“Satoru,” you sobbed, snapping out of it and grabbing his face. “I just got you back, I can’t lose you again.” After all that you had been through, you didn´t know you had tears left to cry. 

He took your face in his hands and pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you tight. With his voice shaking as much as yours, he spoke, “You won’t lose me. I promise I won’t die. As long as you’re here, I won’t let anything happen to me.”

You kissed him again, his lips hungry on yours, desperate to hold onto this moment. You sobbed into the kiss, holding him tight. “Please” you mumbled through your tears. 

He pulled apart, looking down at you, his beautiful blue eyes now red from crying. “You know I have to, I’m the only one who can defeat him.” His thumb brushed away your tears gently. His eyes were filled with regret as he knew what he had to do. “I’ll come back. I promise. I’ll always come back to you.”

He gave you one more hard kiss, painfully not wanting to let go. And as he stepped into the battlefield, you knew.

A/N: “If I knew it all then, would I do it again, would I do it again”? Sorry for that ending, I miss my man.

#bring back my man #daddys not home lol #crying myself to sleep #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk manga #gojo vs sukuna

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: Ezra (pre movie) x afab!reader

Summary: You need more from Ezra, but how much more can you take?

Content Warnings: smut- 18+ ONLY! MDNI. dirty talk, p in v sex, slight f oral if you blink you'll miss it, breast play, use of rope, bondage explored a little, biting, choking, condescending Ezra, sloppy kithes, fingering, mulitple orgasms, overstimulation, crying but Ezra licks your tears up, animalistic undertones perhaps, thigh biting, mentions of your neck bleeding a little but don't panic, cream pie, cockwarming, degrading undertones, praise, pet names (good girl, gem, honey, sir) I think that's everything but tell me if I've missed one.

Authors Note: Hello, sluts! buckle up, this is my submission for @iamasaddie 's writing challenge! I got #24 - Overstim w Ezra. Now I'm gonna be so real, Ezra was fucking terrifying to write for. I love a good challenge though, so here we go! Hope you enjoy & make sure to read everyone else's work who participated! Quick shoutout to my beta's for helping with the looks and contents ( @pedgito & @beskarandblasters ) along with all my hens who held my hand through this. I love you. wc: 2kish dividers by the talented @saradika-graphics !

“Ezra please, c’mon I wanna play some more, please?” You begged, tugging his hand to come lay back down in the cot. 

He’d just finished fucking you and you needed more, you craved more. 

“Sweetheart, I need to sleep, we’ve got a tremendous trip ahead of us tomorrow.” 

You groaned aloud causing him to turn around with a raised eyebrow. Normally attitude wasn’t the first thing you gave to Ezra when you were in a particular mood, but considering how desperate you were for him and all the teasing he had done throughout the day, did he really think only one round was going to suffice?

“There something you need to say to me, little one?” Ezra stands up over the small bed, fingertips dancing over your slightly sweaty skin, trailing up your thigh just above your knee. 

Leaning up on your elbows, you look up at him through your eyelashes and bite your lip. “It’s just, you’ve done nothing but mess with me all day and touch me at the most inopportune times, how can I not want more from you? You drive me crazy.”

It would just be easy for you to dip his hand down and relieve yourself with his fingers inside you, but where was the fun in that? Though you two have explored using each other for your selfish needs, that wasn’t what you wanted from him, not this time. You wanted him to ravage you, to eat you alive and savor the last bite. 

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl. Perhaps I can find it in me to satisfy what you’re needing, but under my conditions.” 

The glimmer from the lantern hanging from the top of the tent catches his eye, showing you the true darkness coming over him. Like a lion looking at its lamb prey, Ezra licks his lips and kneels down beside you on the bed, fingers still dragging ever so slowly on your thigh. Every creak of the cot shifting under the weight of you two makes your breath catch. The anticipation was insufferable and Ezra knew it. He knew it was absolute torture for you to lay there in silence as he thought about his conditions he was going to share with you.

“I’ll indulge in this moment of weakness with you, but in return you will keep your angelic voice down to a low roar, almost as silent as the unknown out there in The Green. Whatever I choose to do is my concern, but feel free to relentlessly use your safe word as you see fit, yes?”

You nod in response which causes Ezra to tut at you. 

“It’s almost too easy to take away your power to speak but I need you to say the word. Say it.” Ezra demands in a low tone, right next to your ear before he licks a small section of your cheek. 

“Yes, I understand, sir.” That always got him alive and feral. Sir. His hand moves to the apex of your thighs and rubs slowly, toying with the aching clit under his fingertips. Your mouth falls agape and already you want to moan out his name like your personal hail mary but this was just the beginning. 

“Sit up for a second, sweetheart.” 

Ezra grabs your arm with his freehand and lifts you forward just enough to get you up and he slinks down behind you on the cot, his back resting against one of the support beams he just finished digging into the ground earlier today. Your skin sticks to his chest as he grabs your shoulders to guide you back down on him, his hand once more making his way between your thighs. 

“You are such a beautiful little thing when you squirm around in my arms like that, I must admit.You should really keep still though if you wish not to have your wrists tied to this beam behind me.” 

His fingers dance around your soaking wet clit, halting any moans you may have and causing them to die in your throat before he tells you you’re being too loud. The burning feeling started in your lower tummy once more and Ezra could feel you tense up, your hips beginning to roll against his touch. Taking note, it was as if a switch flipped and as soon as your eyes rolled back, his freehand comes up your side and pinches your nipple roughly as he bites your neck, layering kisses in between a few times. 

“F-fuck, Sir, please don’t stop-p. Oh m-yy-” You croak out and arch your back off of his chest as his index and middle finger dip into your entrance. A pleased hum erupts from Ezra as he pumps back and forth inside of you. 

“Yes, just like that, baby. Soak my fingers, come on. Atta girl.” His chanting in the crook of your neck was making your back arch deeper with euphoria, whimpering with every dip of his finger hitting your g-spot. 

Ezra was getting you to the edge a lot faster than you anticipated but you weren’t complaining. His fingers toy around your nipple before pinching it once more, your clit thumping against the pad of his finger just anxious to come. 

Your knees jerked to close shut as Ezra cooed in your ear to come for him but he wouldn’t allow them to meet in the middle, to let you take away his enjoyment watching you come unraveled. The smirk plastered over his mouth was loud and clear in his words, only making you want to tip over the edge more. 

“Ezra please, please right there, right-“ you shriek out before his calloused hand that was cupping your breast, comes up to your mouth and squeezes harshly. 

“That feel fulfilling enough to you, gem?” Ezra nibbles on your ear as he groans, making a mess of your cum and rubbing it all throughout your folds. 

“No, that would be fanatical of me to think so little of you, wouldn’t it? Of course you need more.”

Before you’re able to pull his hand away from your mouth, Ezra’s fingers dip inside you once more while his grip on your face loosens, only grab the back of your neck and turn your head towards him, resting along his collarbone comfortably. Crying out his name and begging him to grant you just a second to catch your breath, he squeezes your neck in response and kisses the side of your face messily. 

“No no no no, I believe you didn’t listen to me when I spoke about my conditions. I told you what was to come if you wanted this, and by golly, you did not hesitate to agree, do you recall? Or are you so fucked out of that pretty little mind?” He rasps out before tugging you tighter against him. 

He’d stolen every single last breath from you and any shot you had at speaking. Pussy throbbing, begging to get stuffed, you whine aloud and buck into his hand more. 

Ezra rips his hand away from your dripping hole and slips out from behind you, reaching in his bag for something while you rub your thighs trying to imitate a sliver of what he made you feel. 

Nothing came close to it. 

The frayed rope comes into your view and his devilish smile flashes quickly at you before he starts to tie your wrists together, then to the beam. Licking his lips when he sees how much you squirm and need him back, Ezra holds your face gently before moving to your throat, squeezing just enough to show you he’s there. 

“You are the best one yet, I give you that. Using every last bit of mighty force in that body to keep me happy.” He gets between your legs, sloppy wet kisses trailed down the valley of your breasts and abdomen until he got where you needed him again. The sting in your flesh from his teeth shoots your eyes open and down to him where he was content with nipping at your inner thighs before he really gets to the fun. 

After this you’d have enough anticipation to last a year, maybe more. The black sweaty locks tangle under your grasp on them, eliciting a guttural moan from Ezra. 

“You smell so sweet, you make it hard for a man such as myself to behave.” A flattened tongue presses against your clit and licks forward and back down, the vibration from his groan tickling you softly. 

“Especially when you request things of this nature from me.” 

“I- I need you inside me, Ezra please. Please, I'm begging.” 

He laughs against your clit and looks at you. 

“I know you are, gem, how pathetic, isn’t it?” 

Kneeling between your legs, Ezra grabs onto the tops of your thighs and yanks you closer, the rope tightening around your skin. That’ll probably bruise later, who cares. 

“Would you be a good girl for me and rub your pretty little clit for me, sweet girl? Can you do that for me? Oh wait- you can’t.”

Hearing the condescending tone in his words turns you on even more and with his rough hands squeezing your plush thighs, groaning with every thrust inside you, your mind was in another dimension. Toying with your clit while you try to whine out his name was a new favorite sight for him and he was definitely going to remember this later.

Yet, the fire burning in your tummy from earlier didn’t die down at all. Clawing at his tummy with your freehand, Ezra grunted your name and pounded into you harder. 

“Don’t tell me you’re about to come again. Take it, take it, take my cock so deep like I know you can. Be a good girl, come on.” 

His thumb meets your sensitive bud and rubs circles on your clit way faster than you would’ve. Writhing and gasping for air causes him to keep your legs spread as you once more come under his doing. 

“Again. Come on.” He demands and keeps running despite your squeaks you can’t barely get out. 

“What’s wrong, honey? Is that too much for your pretty little pussy? You can handle it, come on, one more.” 

The tears pricked the corners of your eyes and Ezra leans down, licking them up with your sweat as they drip down your cheek. The animalistic behavior that had taken over him was giving you butterflies in your stomach, maybe even the whole goddamn zoo. 

“I-I- Ez,-fuck-k-k-please-e!” You gasped out and squeezed the rope leading towards your wrists, hoping he’d cut them but that was a stupid thought. 

“Come on, gem. Scream as loud as you please if that’ll make you come harder on me, let me hear that pretty scream you have.” Ezra kisses your neck roughly and bites hard enough to break skin, tasting the metallic liquid on his tongue. 

Your muscles were starting to tighten and cramp up, your mind spinning and the words falling from your mouth before you could even think about them. 

“Just like that, you’re such a good girl for me. The way you squeeze around my cock like that- you’ll make a man go mad. Such pretty sight to watch my cock disappear in that beautiful p-“ 

Before he could grunt out the last of his words your eyes were squeezed shut and seeing stars on the insides of your eyelids. There was never a second you thought your pussy could thump has hard as it was in this moment. 

Ezra’s breath quickens as the squelching from your pussy was sending him over the edge along with your soft jolts from the orgasms hitting you still. 

In a quick moment he was filling you up to the brim with his cum, fucking it as deep as it could go inside you and collapsing on top of you, cock still inside you as he went soft. 

You must’ve been that way for a while before he reached up and untied you, kissing your breasts and nipples slowly. 

“Satisfied, gem?”

#pedro pascal #ezra prospect #prospect 2018 #pedro pascal characters #ezra x female reader #tw blood #tw degradation #tw overstim #pedro pascal character fanfic #little lady kinky may

[lichenes]

OMG I'M SO GLAD SOMEONE IS WRITING ABT SKI AGGUUUUU. there's so many joost fics (which I love) but I've been looking for aggu fics in the depths of the internet for soo long ( ´_ゝ｀)

~

anyways, can i please request something where the reader catches the eye of aggu during a concert or smth, and the whole interaction between them is cute and flirtatious? ski aggu is a BIG ladies man, so, reader is obviously falling for his pick-up lines ect. thank you!! ^3^

Literally! Where are the Aggu fics?? I've seen edits of this man with 19k likes on tiktok and literally noody is posting abt him here!! Anyway! Once again, need him biblically. I'm a sucker for irl scenarios :"") Loosely based on that one video of sbd holding Aggu's hand; jealous. Enjoooy<3 CW: flirting wc: 686

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

The crowd, alongside you, was singing the lyrics to “wie du manchmal fehlst”. You were standing in the first row, mesmerised by Aggu’s form. Throughout the night he would run around the stage but during this song he walked closer to the crowd. You realised at that moment that he was making a beeline for you. You quickly thanked your earlier self for wearing something revealing and extended your arm towards him. 

When your fingers connected with his own your brain short-circuited. Suddenly the room started spinning. You were literally holding Aggu’s hand. You kept singing hoping your singing skills were satisfactory, if he heard them. He looked down at you and gave you a smile as if to reassure you that it was happening in real life. You saw his grills alongside the grin he flashed you and my god, did he look good from that point of view.

He moved around near the crowd for a moment more and went back to his usual theatrics. You got a video of him holding your hand which might’ve been the happiest moment of your life so far. He moved away from you after a moment of closeness to get close to other fans, avoiding holding hands with anyone else. The song was one of the last ones he performed so not long after he said his goodbyes he walked backstage. 

After the concert Aggu posted a story in English pertaining to the person who held his hand. It so happened to be you. You dm’d him, sending the video as proof if he wanted it. He didn’t answer quickly. Your anxiety was rising with each passing hour. Suddenly when you were just about to go to sleep, you heard a notification. “How’d you like the concert?” 

You couldn’t believe this. “I loved it!! I honestly was sooo happy when I got the tickets and-” You stopped for a moment, deleting the message entirely. “It was lovely!” You tried to seem nonchalant but it couldn’t be denied that you were fucking texting The Ski Aggu. He sent you a voice message.

…

Holy shit. Did he expect one back? What did he say? What was even going on?! “Mmm, glad you liked it. I couldn’t help but notice such a beautiful person among the crowd.” It was only a few seconds long but it made your heart flutter like a ballad sung by the greatest singer to ever live. You gathered all your courage and pressed ‘record’. You rambled for a minute straight and when your phone buzzed with the message reaching its full capability you decided against sending it. ‘Okay. We can do this.’ You thought about what you wanted to say and attempted to try again. Then a message popped up. “Hesitating gorgeous?” 

…oh my god.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You responded, quickly regretting your decision. He saw the message and started typing. “Good.” Your heart stopped for a second. You pressed record and began rambling once more. Sent. Okay. Alright. “You’ve got a voice as gorgeous as your face angel.” The answer came quicker than you expected. He sent another voice message. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to meet up today? I heard you’ve got great clubs here.” 

You were frantically getting ready, suddenly forgetting how to do eyeliner and what clothes suited you the best. “I’m here.” You read the message in your notifications. You brushed your teeth quickly and ran out the door, almost breaking a leg on the stairs. You saw him in his car waiting, scrolling through tiktok. He was wearing his usual clothes and you started feeling a bit too overdressed. His reaction to your appearance swept you off your feet. 

“Hi dov-” Looking up from his phone he saw what he would describe as the embodiment of the word breathtaking. His jaw almost went slack from seeing you in those clothes. “My goodness, you’re even more beautiful now. How’d you do that?” You blushed. “Tried my best with what I have.” He looked at you with lust in his eyes. “Oh and you’ve got so much.” 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────• masterlist

#x reader #ski aggu #ski aggu x you #ski aggu x reader #ski aggu fanfic #flirting #fluff

[gleefullypolin]

Stacy's tipsy ramblings about season 3:

I have thoughts...and I've had a bad Friday sooooo....here we go.

Do I want Pen to write as LW past S3? Yes and No. Fantasy Stacy wanted Colin and Pen to be Lord and Lady Whistledown spitting truth across the ton to all who needed to hear it. Reality Stacy wants her to have a true career and write a real novel as Penelope Bridgerton where she has her own success and Colin has his.

How are we feeling about the Ben storyline? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz Sorry.....was asleep. Wake me when we give him something to actually do.

Do we feel sorry for Cressida and want to see her arc redeemed by the end of Season 3? Nope. Every story needs a villain and I'm perfectly fine to see this one drown.

Do I enjoy John and Fran? No. Their story is not exciting for me. Sorry. Nothing against them, I'm just not enjoying it, personal opinion simply my own. I'm sure others might be in the same boat but unlikely to voice that opinion and that's fine as well. Again. Personal opinion and nothing against them. Just how I feel.

Should Colin forgive Pen so quickly in Part 2? Duh. It's a gossip column. I'm sorry that she wrote some honest things that cut close to the vest for people. She didn't lie. She tried to talk to these people over and over and over again and NO ONE listens to her. Colin patted her on the head like a puppy...."Pen you are so good" when she tried to warn him and she saved his ass from twins. Soooo, yeah. Let him feel his feels but honestly, lets move on.

Do you feel like Colin's character is OOC and the brothels are unnecessary? Nope, he came back as the person society expects him to be. Just as he said. He tried to fit with the Lord Douche Brigade and went about his business. The only time he was himself was with Pen. The whole point of that was to see the difference. Brothel mess and all and I was good with that. Clutch your pearls when you want to complain about his brothers having threesomes and fucking in public against trees.

Is Pen trapping Colin by not telling him right away about LW? Girl just got all her dreams converging into one. Confessions of love and fingering all in one. Then thrown into a family marriage proposal, immediately blackmailed by Eloise to confess, Cressida taking all her life's work credit from her, the Queen hunting her down. She's 20 years old. Image the pressure. Not only that but she gets the one thing she's been coveting since she watched him fall off a horse and now it could fall to dust. El already showed her what could happen by telling that secret and she was the love of her life. No one gave her a chance to breathe much less think of what these repercussions could mean. Either way, mistakes were made, but not unforgiveable, and nothing she would not have allowed him out of. When you allow someone the chance to remove themselves, it is not a trap. Point. Blank. Period.

Is the season rushed? I don't know, I've only watched four fucking episodes. Have you watched more than me? Please tell me where to watch the other 4, I'll pay!

Am I an asshole? Nah, just had a bit to drink, did you not read the top part...ok show time over! Before I really tell you how I feel!!

#polin #bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers

[ewreckedshin]

yandere!Aventurine x obsessed reader

Word Count: 1,143

Brief Description: Self-aware Aventurine poses as an online friend and "consensually" kidnaps you into the game, yandere x yandere type of situation

Brief-er Note: Miraculously people actually saw my last post, therefore I made the spacing slightly less atrocious but the grammar’s gonna stay shit for the balance

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Just imagine… one day you get a strange friend request. You must’ve declined this person a thousand times, wanting to keep your friend list clear as you didn’t need any pesky real people in this space reserved only for your precious Aventurine. 

But fine, they were persistent enough that you cave, curious to see what they possibly wanted. The first thing you notice is that they had no profile picture at all, and named themselves “Aventurine”

“Must be one of those roleplay people,” you muse.

Then they’re messaging you daily, always checking in on you, speaking as though they were the character himself. And poor you, your delusional heart couldn’t take it anymore. You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Aventurine as your HSR “friend” provides you with unlimited conversations that only serve to add more dimensionality to his character, making him feel like a real person

Slowly your life grew increasingly dull and colorless, while the sole center of your will to live became the charming blonde character with literal rose-tinted glasses and a captivating smile. 

Your online friend only encourages this behavior, claiming that you need Aventurine to feel good and everything else in this world only serves to take away from that. And of course, why wouldn’t you agree? Where’s the flaw in that logic?

At night time, you’re barely able to fall asleep due to the sheer excitement overflowing your body, pathetically wrapping an arm around yourself as if it were Aventurine holding you. 

If you only knew how he was watching you through the screen, luring you in closer and closer, waiting for the perfect moment to save you from your miserable dilemma. 

The truth was that a while back Aventurine had figured there was something off about the Trailblazer. Every day around the same time they would stop moving and stand there blankly, as if someone had shut them off from the outside.

He found the source that controlled the trailblazer and when he shut it off, he was met with a different face: yours. 

As the days passed Aventurine began to feel a strange connection with you, as though this world had a secret that only the two of you knew. There was nobody left in his world that he trusted, but you were different. 

You weren’t a part of his world… and he could tie none of its cruelty to you. You were his fresh start.

His skin crawled with impatience at hearing you speak but never getting to touch you. He would blush when you showered him with endless compliments… did you really mean everything you said? 

Aventurine becomes infatuated with all of your little mannerisms, memorizing the way you move, the fluctuations in your tone, how you had a habit of adjusting his character on the screen to mimic the height difference between you two in real life. What others would call creepily obsessed, Aventurine found adorable.

He’d hear you cry over the cruelty of your own world… and Aventurine had never felt more desperate, verging on the edge of insanity in his drive to find some method to communicate with you. He wanted you to use him to soothe any sorrows and even abandoned a business trip halfway through to find a way of communication.

Once he managed to access the messages that were in this “Honkai Star Rail” world he now knew he was a part of, he immediately sent a friend request only to be left wondering why you weren’t accepting it. Despite feeling devastatingly dejected, he persisted because he just knew he’d be the one to help you.

He tried to keep up his collected facade around his fellow IPC workers. He didn’t want them to find out anything about this, especially Topaz or Ratio.

One time a new worker almost caught him in the act. Almost. But it was enough to plant the seed of paranoia within him, that he might find out about your existence which was a secret only he was allowed to know of. The worker was never found again and Aventurine casually dismissed it as a runaway case, charming words instantly soothing their suspicions.

He was caught in a tug of war between selfish possession and the pure, unbridled need to be used by you however you pleased.

Normally Aventurine relies on mere chance… but for you, everything was precisely calculated. He would make sure that there was a 100% success rate.

When the moment is right, Aventurine messages you to close your eyes for a surprise.

He shuts off the trailblazer’s body, whispering half-sincere sorries as his heart pounded in excitement, knowing that once they were "asleep" he can bring you in. It was at this point that he realized he was too far gone, but he didn’t care about anything but you.

The first time he sees you in his world, you’re disoriented and glancing around in bewilderment. He awaits you with a calm smile and closed-off eyes, but you had spent so much time studying his appearance that you instantly saw the tremors behind his practiced expression, as though he were secretly incredibly nervous. 

He reaches out a single gloved hand, not quite touching you so as to not shatter the sweet illusion. His expression was steady but his bright pink pupils rapidly flicker all over your face. He’s waiting for you to make the first move, just so that he could immediately comply with anything you asked for.

You, on the other hand, had been repeating to yourself  “Aventurine is real” like a mantra 24/7 for the past few weeks. It didn’t take long for you to quickly accept your new situation although you felt like you could barely breathe from the intensity of your feelings at being inside of the HSR world.

Aventurine gets straight to the point and offers you a deal. “Come with me and I’ll take you to a paradise where it’s only the two of us for the rest of our lives,” he starts.

He’s sympathetic as he mentions the other choice, “I mean you could always choose to go back, but I don’t want you to live a meaningless life…” 

Aventurine truly means it when he uses the word “choice.” Although it would tear him to pieces, he knew he would gladly take the eternal pain of your rejection if that was what you wanted.

The answer was obvious to you: you felt as though you were drowning in an ocean of nothingness, and here was the one beacon of light in your life offering to save you.

You try not to look too desperate as you immediately say yes, eyes half-crazed as your hands slightly tremble from resisting the urge to hug him with all your strength. 

Luckily, he makes that choice for you the second he senses your stance and embraces your body, softly caressing your hair as he all but breathes you in. “As long as you desire it I will stay with you past anything. Feel free to use me as you wish.”

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💖Note:

I love the idea of a yandere situation where the obsession is reciprocated

I think this is gender-neutral but if I accidentally slapped the word pussy in there don't come for me (or do :D)

Anyways have a lovely day, may your thoughts be happy and dong be long :D =D

Unless you want a short one, you can have it don’t cry no pressure ;v;

Btw i haven’t slept in 2 days but that's ok because somewhere on ao3 an author hasn't slept in 2 years I'm sure

#hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere x yandere #yandere reader #hsr imagines #unedited #i still need him #he's real I tell you he's real #AVENTURINE

[reallifetangent]

A take I wanna have (please don't yell at me or attack me. Corrections might be okay, it's late for me and English is not my main language):

Edwin's love interests. Less to best for him.

Cat King on the less. I know. I love his character, he's very charismatic. I love the teasing and seeing how far he can push Edwin's limits and face his own feelings. I do live for that in some ships. Their dynamic is interesting but let's be real. Even if CK is an Entity and has 9 lives (currently only 6), Edwin is a ghost. Forever 16, forever existing. At some point the relationship would look and or feel weird. And tbh is the one that changed the less thanks to his interactions with Edwin. Edwin grew a lot (and learned a lot about himself) but Cat King? He still play games and yeah, he cares for Ed, but he's been like that since always. And to be loved is to be changed. Maybe the dying for Edwin when he tried to protect him from Ester and ended up dead counts for something, but he's too much in his idealistic bubble where at some point Edwin would fall for his charms. Maybe if he approached in a more friendly way and not trapping him in town, (a less Wattpad Cliche Way), maybe something could've come out better. And look, I love their teasing. I want CatWin being something before Edwin and Charles becoming an actual couple. I still want Cat King and Edwin playing with each other, who's smarter, who's sharper, who's one step ahead of the other, silly little games between them. I want Edwin appreciating Cat King's death for him. I want Cat King obsessed in a respectful way for Ed, appreciate him, praise him. And Ed just, panicking because too gay to function but at the same time, it's not who he wants to hear that from. Yet sometimes falls for that but he knows it's wrong for him.

Simon. We know he was his bully. He had feelings for Ed, and back when they both were alive, being like them was a sin. He only wanted to scare Edwin. Nothing else. If Edwin was able to forgive Simon in hell, understanding it wasn't his fault they both died (technically it is but nobody told them entities and ghosts are real so that wasn't on him), and even wanting to get him out of there, there were a reason. Also, both were sixteen. Still a lot to develop and think and experiment. It took Edwin 100 years to finally open up and be comfortable about himself. Maybe Ghost Simon could learn at the same time with Edwin as his teacher, since both were the same period. Could be interesting Simon revoked from death back to the living because he has unfinished businesses somehow and Edwin taking his case just to make things more clearer and give us a better chance to know why Edwin forgave him. Because just the "Oh, you were in love with me and you didn't know the sacrifice would actually work" doesn't sound enough reasons for someone like Edwin to break out an ex bully from literal hell. There is an explanation. There must be.

Monty. Just. Take away Edwin having feelings for Charles, and Monty being Ester's Familiar Crow. Otherwise, it could've worked. Not right away, but with patience, they could've been in a cute relationship. Monty caught feelings for real, and Edwin is too slow to understand, but at some point they'll both learn and well, lovers. I see Edwin on the aromantic spectrum, so, Monty would have to work his way and Edwin open up to get to like Monty. Or just accept they can be a platonic relationship and that can be good too. Also same issue as Crystal or any Living Entity. Age permanency. Could be a nice Teenage Love Story for Edwin and Monty, but not in case Monty is affected by human ageing.

And best by far, Charles. 30 years of being the married couple on acid. Both timeless, forever young, together by choice, each other's personal afterlife. They died when they had so much to live for. Now they can't be more alive thanks to each other. Even if they end up as platonic stuff and never end up being partners, there wouldn't be any complaining. Edwin loves Charles in a romantic way, and just knowing that Charles won't go away because of that is a total relief, and they have the eternity to find out of Charles does have romantic feelings as well. And reading a post about Charles being a People Pleaser and always saying or doing what others wanted so they like him and been trying to be on Edwin's good side to not push him away for 30 years, so, knowing that his best mate loves him must be a good reason to stop doubting Edwin.

Charles and Crystal are okay. I mean, I like their relationship just because they needed someone. Crystal admitted she could try if he were alive, but between her brainwash, the demon possession, everything happening, it's more like a distraction than an actual feeling. Maybe better writing and they could be her teenage love. After that, she'll grow up. He won't. (I know I said best partners for Edwin but I wanted to clarify my take on Crystal and Charles).

#dbda #dead boy detectives analysis #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives edwin #dead boy detectives cat king #dead boy detectives charles #dead boy detectives simon #dead boy detectives monty #dead boy detectives #dbdetectives #dbda headcanons #reallifetangent #rlt #reallifetangent writes

[gardenofnoah]

that’s the home of my love//she’s dancing in the sky

my submission for my beloved @threadbaresweater ‘s milestone event, inspired by one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard (Caroline by Colter Wall). sorry to make him a little sad for the summer collab

tags: Nanami Kento x reader, aging, sudden death, grieving (it’s not that sad I don’t think), drabble, smut (loosely)

He never had enough time. That’s the root of his regret—you were there waiting, and then you were gone and suddenly he had too much time and the loneliness stretched on as far as he could see. Kento almost comes out of retirement for this reason—needing something to keep his mind off of the aching void you left. Even if it is the very thing that kept him away from you in the first place. The thing that took up his space in your bed, when all you really needed was the steady rise and fall of his chest at your back and his arm slung around your rib cage. He gets that now.

He doesn’t go back to work, though. He finds that, in the crest of his 60s, his mind and his memories have not left him yet, and to picture you keeps him just this side of content. The closest he’s gotten since you’ve been gone—he’ll take it.

He remembers being 30, and meeting you like it was normal. There was no curse to exorcise from you, no snapping mouth to pull you from—you in the park on his day off, interrupting his reading to ask him to share the bench. He’d said no, and you’d sat down anyway. You never did let him forget that.

Being 32, and having your first significant fight. He can’t remember what it was about, but the only thing that really mattered was the way the hurt cracked through your own belligerence, just for a moment. He’d never felt a self-loathing of that magnitude—so sudden and swelling and suffocating him. He’d just pulled you to him and you fought him until the tears came. If he thinks hard enough, he can still feel your fingertips dig into his waist. He’d told you he loved you.

Being 36 and seeing what all the fuss over marriage was about. He closes his eyes and feels the corners of his mouth tug up, picturing you in that dress you’d pulled out of one of your grandmother’s old trunks. The way you’d lost your bravery by the time you reached him at the altar, your trembling only quelled when you tucked yourself into his chest and didn’t let go until it was over. He’d felt like the luckiest man in the world. He remembers the heat of the summer, and how it paled in comparison the fire that radiated off of you.

That same night, relearning your body as if he’d not touched it for years. The give of your soft skin under his rough hands—the way you shivered and pulled him closer, as if he was not already as close as your skin would physically allow. He thinks of the blinding pleasure behind his eyes when he’d sunk into you slowly, and even now, feels the familiar swirl of blood, albeit flowing slower now. His hand finds himself in the dark, half hard on the memory alone, and he knows that the squeeze of his own hand could never replicate the feeling of you, but it’s all he has.

He finds, at this age, there’s no real urgency. He’s content to think of the way your mouth would part on a moan and let the sound swirl in his gut, fading as quickly as it came. The desire swells and recedes, and it’s not so much the longing to be touched as it is a yearning to be touched by you. But you’re not coming back, and he’s trying to make his peace with that.

Kento remembers how his 40s came and went with little fanfare and more neglect than he’d intended. You’d asked him to slow down, to be there on slow mornings and stormy Sunday nights—and he wasn’t. It never seemed urgent, because he’d promised you forever and couldn’t be bothered to worry about the quality of those days that stretched on before you—only the sheer quantity of what you’d vowed to each other. He’d thought that counted for something.

And then you’d turned 50, but had not made it to 51. As sudden as a light switch, your lungs inflated once, and then never again.

The memory of the 15-odd years between then and now runs together. The pain distorts the passage of time in his mind. He can only recall one long day of grieving that hasn’t ended yet.

But even in his mourning, he finds himself back in that park. He takes up the whole bench now, laying down across it and ignoring the stares of younger passerby, hoping to feel the weight of you press down on his chest. Kento watches the sky—which has seemed far too blue since you died, as if he was expecting everything else to dull when he did. But cicadas still chirp and children still stomp about in the grass. Wisps of cloud swirl and float on, and he wonders where you are. If you have a hand in what he sees—if there’s a record playing to guide the movement of your hips and the direction of the warm, summer breeze. He extends an arm out— straight up, as if you could reach down and touch him again.

There is no grave to visit. Your name is here—on a little gold plaque, fastened to the top of the bench—and on the tip of his tongue, always. His great love in the sky.

#I’ve been waiting for the inspiration for this to come for months #and I just wrote it all in 40 minutes #I swear I love him. I just like to make him sad #nanami Kento x reader #Nanami x you #Nanamin #nanami drabble #jjk drabble #jjk x reader #jjk fic

[merrybloomwrites]

Spencer Agnew - My Favorite Pizza Oven

Summary: Spencer and Y/N spend a weekend babysitting Courtney and Shayne's son.

Word Count: 728

AN: Welcome to the first of 9 weeks of ficlets! Come back every Thursday for a little fic of Reader x Smosh! Most are Spencer x Reader but there will be a couple Ian x Reader and Damien x Reader as well!

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When Courtney came up to you and asked if you and Spencer could watch her and Shayne’s son for a couple nights so they could go on vacation you immediately said yes. 

“Shouldn’t you check if Spencer is on board?” She asked. 

“Trust me, he’ll be on board,” you replied. You and your boyfriend had watched Ryan for a night a few months ago. Spencer had been asking for weeks when you thought the two of you might be able to babysit again. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll text you with the details.”

“Perfect! I’m looking forward to it!” 

“That’s because he’s always a little angel for Auntie Y/N and Uncle Spencer,” she said. 

“Because we absolutely spoil him and say yes to pretty much whatever he wants,” you replied with a laugh. “It’s our right as aunt and uncle!” You add and she conceded, joining in on your laughter. 

Later that night, when you filled Spencer in on your conversation with Courtney he got super excited and started listing all the activities he was hoping to do throughout the weekend with Ryan.

You just listened and sighed, hoping Spencer would behave and you wouldn’t have to rein in two excitable children. 

A couple days before your babysitting duties were set to begin, you and Spencer made a trip to Target after work to stock up on a few things for your home. You’d split up, wanting to get done quickly since it was getting late.

You always worry a bit about sending Spencer out on his own, never knowing what he’ll return with, and your fears are often valid. This time was no exception.

When you met back up, he was carrying a basket with the items on his list, as well as a Play Doh pizza oven set. 

“Are you thinking of getting into crafting now?” you asked, skeptically eyeing the item.

“It’s for Ryan!” he replied. “Shayne said he’s really into play-doh lately so I thought he might enjoy it. And I figured coming in with a new toy might help him be excited for a weekend with us, rather than sad that his parents are leaving.”

“That’s a really good idea,” you replied. You gave Spencer a fond look, as you’re reminded once again how thoughtful this man is. Even after years together you continue to fall more in love with him. Even while standing in the middle of a Target on a Wednesday night.

Two days later you arrived at Shayne and Courtney’s home with your overnight bags, prepared for a weekend of babysitting. Courtney went over all the instructions again, and finally you sent the two on their way to enjoy some time alone. 

As predicted, Ryan was a bit upset seeing his mom and dad leave, but Spencer quickly stepped in and showed him the new toy. It worked like a charm, and the two boys made lots of creations together.

Even better was the moment when dinner arrived. After making plenty of pretend pizzas, Ryan was ecstatic to see they’d be eating real pizza for dinner too! 

The weekend went smoothly, and that plastic pizza oven went everywhere Ryan went. Including the playground. He was truly obsessed. 

“I love this pizza oven!” he exclaimed during breakfast Sunday morning. “It’s my favorite!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he reminded you so much of his dad in that moment. You had come up with a plan, a perfect way for Ryan to greet his parents when they got back home. 

A couple hours later, when Courtney and Shayne walked in the front door, Ryan had run up to them, new toy in hand.

“Hey buddy! I missed you,” Shayne said, hugging his son tight. “What’s that you got there?”

“It’s from Auntie Y/N and Uncle Spencer! It’s my favorite pizza oven!” All the adults began to laugh, as Ryan practically quoted one of his father's most famous lines.

Later that night, when you and Spencer were back home having dinner, you couldn’t help but think back on the weekend, and how wonderful your boyfriend was with the little guy. Your mind imagined what your future will be like, when you and Spencer have a little one of your own. One look at him told you he was thinking the same thing, and you knew you’d picked a good one.

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AN: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and can't wait to share more with you!

#spencer agnew x reader

[bingeeaterblog]

// small warning big re touken hate it's a post on why I hate it and how I think it could've been done better BUT I encourage you to keep reading if you do like them and to give me your thoughts whether to tell me why you like them or why you think im wrong in some regards i love a good debate its why i joined Tumblr

I'm gonna start this off by talking about why I loved the original mangas touken.

They start off as strangers, them only having a REAL meeting when she saves his ass from nishio. Initially she was cold and rude, for every reason he was very disrespectful(also for good reason he was scared and all he knew about ghouls is that they are monsters who hurt people, one literally just had him in a choke hold) but I digress. Kaneki starts working at anteiku and he's shadowing touka much to her dismay she feels he can't do anything right and is just a know it all human.

Right off the bat they have a very interesting dynamic, touka learning to care for kaneki him starting to see her(and ghouls as a whole) as a person and not something he should be afraid of.

As time goes on, touka falls for him, it's what makes everything so hard when he abandons her. She feels betrayed he left just like ayato and her dad did no one ever stays for her? How could they? She makes herself so hard to love shutting everyone out. She blames herself partly, not being able to protect him from whatever happened at the aoigiri base.

When she does see him again she's angry! How dare he come back after all this! Why can't he just make up his mind! So she lashes out, she misses him so dearly but she can't tell him that? Let him know she cares? She hits him and tells him to never come back to anteiku (to her).

You can see why it's so appealing!! The angst!! The drama!!! They have it all! Toukas longing and kanekis isolation are what makes them so GOOD.

To explain why I don't like re touken we have to talk about why I don't like re touka.

Touka before was a very well rounded character, she was brash and a little impulsive, she loves the people around her even if its hard for her to show it in a healthy way. She'll do whatever it takes even if it means risking her own life.

Re touka, doesn't really have that. She's very... Water downed. I like to call it house house wife-ification. She's lost any semblance of her old personality. While I do like the idea of touka calming down and becoming more docile it's not done right, we meet her again and she's just... Like that? There's no character development of her changing it just happens! She's shaved down so she can be the perfect love interest for kaneki, it's even shown in her design! Her eyes are softer and she doesn't hold any of the same energy as old touka(this happens with a lot of female characters ishida just ended up giving them all the same face besides eto).

Kaneki is? Fine? I loved haise as a character and him and touka were sorta cute if u kinda ignore that fact touka isn't touka. Kaneki was fine and re and that's it, he's just okay. His Savior complex is removed and it's just "I wanna save people!!" The whole reason his savior complex is important is BECAUSE it ends up hurting more people he should've been developed to learn how to manage that and be the hero he could be.

Now for their actual relationship.

It's very.... Rushed? There's no tension no build up just "are you a virgin?" Which in my opinion is something touka would never say she'd stumble around it. they made her bold at the wrong times she's an awkward lil freak. And then boom! Sex yeah! And it's? Okay? It's not my favorite I felt like a sex scene between them should've been more desperate!! That's when the marriage bite should've happened! It should've bites and messy kisses and promises to never leave again! There was no passion! There was the "why are you crying" but that didn't really do anything for me!!

I do like the end scene where she was petting his hair that was very soft which is what he needs.

Then toukas pregnant!(Which is something I'll get into good another time) And it kinda feels like they only rush into the marriage because she is... Like I feel like they should've atleast had a dating stage y'know!! Everything just felt so fast with them and nothing like the original:(

The end credits scene feels nothing like touka, she looks dead that's not the character I used to know :( kaneki too only the scene with hide felt real

And yeah! I like ichika! But how cool would it have been if touka got pregnant AFTER re and in the end credit thing she was revealed! Another natural born one eyed ghoul!! Idk...

This is very messy sorry I had to get this out. if you like them? That's fine!! That's super duper cool its just not my favorite. Tell me why you think I'm wrong! Id love to hear your opinions

#ken kaneki #tokyo ghoul #text post #kaneki ken #ship analysis #character analysis #touken

[alice-angel12x]

What do you think of Swan Lake AU? With Y/n playing Prince Siegfried, Kalim playing Odete and Jamil playing Odile:

AU History:

Y/n is the crown princess of her kingdom who will soon turn 18, and although her father knows he can command her and leads her kingdom alone, The people are insisting that the princess find a suitor. One day, while traveling through the woods, she encounters a swan, and discovers that this swan is actually Prince Kalim, who was cursed to transform into a swan, and returned to being human after sunset, he was cursed by someone who used to be his best friend, and the curse could be broken if he fell in love and was reciprocated, the curse would break, as time passes and they fall in love, so Y/n invites him to her coming-of-age ceremony, Kalim replies yes, but that he could only go at night, and Y/n said that the ceremony would be in the afternoon and last until midnight. At the coming-of-age ceremony, while chatting with the other candidates, Y/n expected Kalim to appear, but he was taking a while, so he appears, only he was wearing a black suit instead of white, and when Y/n goes to introduce him to her father, he asks to call him Jamil, and before Y/n was about to say who she chose, another Kalim appears saying that the other Kalim was an impostor, so to find out who the real Kalim was, Y/n asks a question that she knows only the real Kalim would know, and after Kalim answers correctly, the other "Kalim" reveals himself to be Jamil, the sorcerer responsible for cursing Kalim into a swan, After Jamil leaves the party, Y/n decides to go to his cabin in the forest to try to convince him to undo the curse, she goes to Jamil's hut and asks him to undo Kalim's spell, and when he refuses, she says that she will do whatever he wants if he undoes the curse, and he says that if she lived with him for 1 year without running away, he would remove the curse, also saying that she can only go out at night to visit Kalim and his father. During the time she spends with Jamil, she discovers a little more about Jamil and also falls in love with him, only she is still in love with Kalim, leaving her confused. But one morning, as the two were walking through the woods, Kalim (in his swan form) appears a little injured, and after tending to his wounds, Jamil being the only one able to understand him, they discovered that one of Y/n's pretenders was attacking their kingdom, because he was disgusted that she hadn't chosen him, and when they get there, they discover that this suitor was actually a very dangerous and evil sorcerer, and when Jamil tries to cast a spell to stop him, the sorcerer casts the same curse as Kalim on him, making him also transform into a swan (Kalim turns into a white swan and Jamil turns into a black swan), and when he was about to attack Y/n, the stone in the necklace (which belonged to his mother) starts to glow and in addition to protecting Y/n and everyone in the kingdom, he casts a spell that hurts the sorcerer, making him run away. Then Y/n's father reveals that her mother was the Fairy Queen Guardian of the Forest and the Kingdom, and that she always faced the wizard to protect the forest and the kingdom, and that the Magic Crystal was the only one capable of defeating him, so Y/n together with Kalim and Jamil decide to go on a journey to the sorcerer's castle, defeat him and undo the curse, and along the way, they make new friends and allies who were also transformed into animals by the wizard

If you want, you can change some things, but what do you think?

This is a really cool Idea. Sorry for the supper late response, I am very bad at checking my inbox. But I really like this concept. I might just want to draw this.

#falling pegasus #falling pegasus answers #twistedwonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland Au #disney twst #twst headcanons #twst x reader