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messyhairedhazeleyeddude · 6 months

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Friends w/ Benefits !!

- with the South Park Boys / x Reader

|| NSFW HC’S & SCENARIOS ||

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Author’s Note ;

Sup, so I decided on making multiple little scenarios and ideas of what I think would happen if you were in a FWB relationship with these dudes. Trust me, it’s going to get spicy and interesting. And if you’re looking for that, you’ve come to the right place. Keep in mind, the characters are all going to be in their college years so they will be 18+. Not trying to have them in elementary. And if you’re near that age, get out of here kid, this is definitely not for you.

Before I make this too long, I’m going to end this here. Enjoy, tread carefully, I’ll add warnings about what’s in there and details so check that out before you dive too far in. Unless you’re a veteran. HAHAHA

P.S, I didn’t add in Cartman because I’m an AVID hater, I’m sorry in advance! But, I did add somebody I adore: Craig! Although, it’s kinda gay, but that’s for the boys or transmascs. Y’know, I gotta provide!

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Point of View : First P.O.V.

Character’s in here : Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick, and Craig Tucker.

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#1 ; Stan Marsh

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Fem!Dom | Masc!Sub

What’s in here : Mentions of throwing-up (obviously), dom fem reader, edging, and drunk oral sex.

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- Phew, this dude will take FOREVER before he comes around to this idea.

- I feel like this would be the case of not trying to move too fast into a relationship because let’s be honest, he’s going to want to end up being with you.

- He’ll have met you during class when assigned a project with you. A bit cliché, but do you think he’d really have the guts to randomly walk up to you?

- You’d end up in conversations with him because of the constant pairing together and this helped the both of you find out you had similar interests. He loved the same genre of music, had the same sense of humor, and made you laugh half of the time because of his stupid jokes.

- Eventually, Stan tried to see you whenever he was free and his friends weren’t tagging behind. A lot of this was during your walk to classes.

- He’d have to race to his right after and sometimes even arrived late because of you.

- Wendy was the first to get suspicious of the behavior because it’s her ex after all and she wasn’t done with her constant off-and-on relationship with him.

- They got into a huge fight about it and that ended up putting the idea in Stan’s head instead. (Poor Wendy. Happens to the best of us.)

- Might’ve caused a complete break-up between them.

- First time he didn’t go goth because of it! (Really, it’s because of you.)

- But, that didn’t mean he didn’t drink.

- And that also didn’t include the fact he was beginning to think of you in that way which in turn made him began to avoid you.

- His races to his classes turned into him racing out of the classes he had with you to the bathroom.

- After a couple of weeks of him doing this, you concluded it had to do something with Wendy, but you thought he was distancing himself to get her back.

- The depression hit hard. Despite you having an attraction towards him, you tried to convince yourself you were okay.

- You WEREN’T.

- Neither was he. He had to choose between telling you about his feelings or being an asshole by ditching you to get himself plastered enough so he could forget about it. Mind you, he thought he was deep in the friendzone. To him, telling you the truth was setting himself up for rejection.

- You were both oblivious to each other’s suffering until the two of you were invited to the same party.

- Because you were having such a hard time dealing with the random drift from Stan, you decided to go and feel your best by getting dressed up.

- Alcohol was another convincing factor. Ironic considering that was the same reason why he was going.

- When you arrived at the party, you navigated around and talked with a couple of friends before asking where the drinks were. That’s where you would stumble upon the drunk raven-haired boy with a vodka bottle that had been chugged by him to the very middle.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Stan laid back against the wall of the kitchen, taking another swig of the vodka he had, and reaching up to slap a hand against the counter when his eyes locked with yours. He slowly lifted himself up, swaying like he was about to collapse any second. “Oh fuck, why’d you have to be here? I think I’m going to be sick,” he covered his mouth while loudly exclaiming that, turning to the side as if he was retching.

You automatically looked offended, your face scrunching up before you reared a hand back and slapped him across the cheek. HARD. That knocked the sense back into him because his eyes went wide and he quickly went to explaining himself, “Ow! OW! Hey, wait! No- *gag* It’s not because you’re terrible or anything! It’s cause-”

He couldn’t finish as once he looked down at your outfit, he sprawled straight for the sink, and puked his brains out. That’s when it clicked in your head. Stan threw up whenever he liked someone.

You stared at the bottle he held, freaking out in your thoughts about the situation, and going for it anyway. It wasn’t hard to take it out of his hold as he was focused on getting all the sick out of himself.

Taking a huge chug of the vodka, you coughed and sputtered when swallowing, wiping the sides of your mouth before grabbing the back of Stan’s shirt. He was dragged upstairs while you were finishing the rest of what was left, throwing the bottle on the floor afterward.

He slurred out what he was trying to say earlier as you both ascended to the next floor, “I’m not disgusted by you.! I like-” But, once again, he was cut off by another rise of bile up his throat. Right when you passed by the bathroom, he pulled away from you, making you follow with him before he toppled over the side of the tub to let it out.

“Jesus Christ, Stan. What is wrong with you?” You asked, concerned for his well-being at this point. He leaned his head to the side, spitting the rest, and turning on the shower to wash it away. Then he got up with a wobble. For the third time, he continued to try and explain, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just trying to tell you that I don’t get sick because I think you’re nasty. I’ve been trying to tell you that I think you’re-”

His face began to scrunch up and that’s when you stepped in, saying it for him with a yell, “I KNOW! I know, Marsh! I know you like me! I like you just as much, you don’t have to say it, you don’t have to acknowledge anything about this! Just stop and go back to Wendy like you have been!” Backing away, you put your hands up and closed your eyes, worried about the inevitable stream of disgusting stomach acid. But, nothing happened.

Instead, the sound of water met your ears and you opened your eyes to see the boy washing his mouth out. His blue eyes met yours, turning off the faucet, and standing back up to clear his throat, “I’ve been trying to say that for weeks now.” It was like a light switch had flipped in his demeanor and he was all of a sudden fine.

Stan continued, sounding a bit raspy because of how much he threw up, “I haven’t talked to Wendy ever since I had walked you to your house. That was the day I realized I… like you.” He hesitated but he managed to say it, looking surprised himself. You paused. It made sense. Around that time, his avoiding started.

There were no words you could give in the moment. You thought this entire time he had been chasing her while in reality, he was hooked on you. Nothing came out and no idea of what to say came to mind. He had officially broke you.

Moving forward slowly, his gaze flickered down to your lips, giving you the signal before leaning into a kiss due to his compulsive and drunk desires. If you weren’t going to tell him anything, he’d get you to respond in another way. Your lips were turning numb along with the rest of your body as you could feel yourself falling down the rabbit hole of a stupor. A part of you was slightly repulsed by the fact he was kissing you after all that happened, but he mostly tasted like the disgusting vodka rather than puke. Which was surprising to say the least.

It didn’t lead to a make-out as you moved to your knees instead, closing the bathroom door behind you, and hearing him lock it with a shaky voice following after, “Fuck, wait, I don’t want to end up getting sick on you. I’ve barely been able to get past a kiss, let alone a touch there. I don’t know if I could handle this.” He rambled and rambled while you unbuttoned his jeans, feeling his dick progressively getting hard already.

A sharp gasp left him when your fingers brushed passed it through his boxers, causing him to hold his breath while still trying to get through to you, “Seriously, [Y/N], I might throw up again!” You sighed and stood back up after his second warning, placing your hand on his chest to ease him down onto the toilet seat. He sat upright, his eyebrows knitted together as you finally responded, “If you do, aim for the tub or sink. I get horny when drunk and I don’t think I want to stop any time soon, Stanley.”

You went right back to getting on your knees in front of him and wrapped your hand around his shaft to jerk it off through the fabric, seeing a small dot of pre-cum began to form around where his tip was. He could feel the warm nauseating feeling travel up his esophagus, making him panic, and move his head to the side to avoid getting it on her while you traveled to get his underwear off of him. Wendy had never done something like this to him before. As soon as he vomited around her, she was quick to lose her appetite for it.

This was different. He felt himself bare and exposed after you succeeded in getting his lower clothes down to his knees. And this was the point where he was feeling it fill his cheeks, he tried to suppress it as much as he could, swallowing it and enduring it. It was like his body was going through an anxiety attack and all it was doing was constantly sending him in this cycle of emptying his stomach because of simple things he should be allowed to do as a man.

He didn’t have an answer to what was wrong with him, but what he did know was that it pissed him the fuck off. Regaining his strength, his hand reached up to your head and he requested something directly to you for the first time without one slightest hesitation, “Please, just keep encouraging me beautiful… and can you keep calling me by my- uh- full name?”

You gave his flushed pink tip kisses, swiping your tongue slowly across it before obliging to his ask while pumping his dick with one hand, “You’re doing an amazing job, Stanley. I’m so proud of you… Is that what you wanted? Does that make you feel good, my handsome boy?” A sly smirk spread onto her face as she looked up to see his shocked expression, wrapping her entire mouth around him and hollowing her cheeks.

Never in a million years would he think that a girl would hit dead on the spot of what he needed, jolts of pleasure running through his legs and lower stomach at the comments. Butterflies plagued him rather than nausea. And what he had been waiting for was happening, he was relaxing into a blowjob.

His hands went for her hair immediately to lace his fingers in between whatever he could, gripping it gently while the relief showed through his half-lidded eyes and his happy pants. Stan let out a choked moan along with an excited but still cracking voice, “I don’t feel.. it! God, this is.. actually amazing… Please, please don’t stop… Keep going, [Y/N]!”

Bobbing your head up and down patiently, you picked up your pace minute by minute, watching as the boy lost it at the feeling. You were too good to him. Your suction on him was tight and you made sure your cheeks were pressed up against your teeth just enough to create the best possible experience for him.

Stan’s chin tilted up to the ceiling while curses spilled, “Fuck, fuck, why do you… have to feel so good?” You could see veins popping around his neck and his Adam’s apple moving up and down from the noises escaping him. His legs were starting to move inward towards themselves, knees about to touch, and his dick was beginning to throb in your mouth. You knew what this meant right away.

“I’m not going to be able to make it for that long if you feel this amazing, god damn it,” he choked out, his fingers digging into your scalp, but not on purpose. To solve this, you popped your mouth off of him and decided to use the time for his cool down to catch your breath.

He looked at you, confused and flustered, his dick inches away from your face. It was twitching and the pre-cum kept leaking because of how pent up he was. You snickered, “I thought you were going to get sick on me? Am I the first one you haven’t vomited on?”

Staring at you for a moment while catching his breath too, he fixed his messy hair, and shakily replied, “Yeah, technically.” You raised your eyebrows before smiling bashfully like that was a compliment. And maybe it was. But, you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself.

Returning back to the activity at hand, you littered the sides of him with kisses, turning your focus to the veins wrapping around it which received a lot of feedback from him. “Woah, woah! Straight to it, huh?” His groans were amplified. It was like he got ten times more sensitive because you edged him.

It didn’t take much of you going back to sucking him to cause his orgasm rushing back. He was teetering on the edge, using the counter and anything else that he could grab on to vent by digging his fingernails into them.

Tears brimmed his eyes and he didn’t want to tell you that he was near, but he also didn’t want you to have a risk of choking. So, he confessed again, “I’m going to! I’m going to, you can stop…” He didn’t know why you were teasing him like this. But, for some reason, he enjoyed it too.

This time, you didn’t pull away. You picked up your pace instead. And that made him nearly knock off everything on the counter. He instinctively stood up, grabbing your head, and in the last final minute he had your mouth wrapped around him; he fucked hard into your throat and let out the cum he had been penting up since the last time he got to interact with you.

The groans that left him were loud and breathy, his eyes almost closing from how tired he got because of the amount of alcohol that was in his system. You were swallowing as much as you could to keep yourself from possibly throwing up yourself due to choking.

Eventually, every bit was dumped out of him and he pulled you off to let you breathe. You gasped for air and glared at him. Stan realizing what he did then and apologizing right away, “Oh crap, I didn’t mean to do that! I was trying to be careful, I’m so sorry!”

Proceeding to apologize to you for the rest of the night after that, the two of you had returned to walking each other home, feeling a long in your heart to remain by each other’s sides when you had to return to your separate dorm rooms. One thing was for certain though. You and Stan were going to have a lot of secrets that the title friends could only cover.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ End of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

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#2 ; Kyle Broflovski

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Vanilla-esque.

What's in here : Slow sex, slightly experienced Kyle, and facial ejaculation.

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- Oh no. Here we go. Now, Kyle, he’s a different story when it comes to getting into a friendship like this.

- He’d probably be easier to convince than Stan, but that’s if you were direct and honest with him.

- You’d have to be somewhat close with him enough to get to that conversation so I would say about five months into meeting him through mutual friends at the lunch tables. At some point, both of you would come across each other and have an in-depth conversation.

- He’s a sucker for intellectual people so once you’re bringing up your collections of books and the fact you make regular visits to the library, this guy’s interest shoots through the roof.

- Eventually, you’re the only thing he starts talking about with his friends and they all start to notice him drifting off in daydreams during class.

- This was about a couple of weeks into the friendship.

- The nerd just couldn’t stop eyeballing you. It didn’t help that he really admired your style and the way you dressed as well.

- Stan pulled him to the side one day to have a talk with him about you and he managed to convince the curly redhead to ask you to hangout at his place.

- The idea was that he was going to watch a whole marathon of Harry Potter movies with you considering the two of you were huge fans of the series.

- You were immediately down as soon as he asked. If anything, you were cheering to yourself about it.

- Now, you could put your plan in action.

- The truth was that you had thought of the Broflovski in many ways that would be considered beyond unholy.

- And the fact his parents were going out for the weekend you were coming over too did not help the ideas popping up in your head.

- When it came upon the day you were coming over, you decided to put on your sexiest outfit yet.

- A short tennis skirt, a laced spaghetti-strapped crop top, and a pair of thigh highs was enough to do the trick.

- You arrived at his place a couple of minutes early but just enough to where you didn’t look crazy, secretly wearing nothing underneath on purpose for him.

- He had paid Stan to babysit Ike for him that day too.

- You were not the only one plagued with not-so-innocent thoughts the entire week leading up to it. Kyle had some things planned out in his head as well. Technically, a mutual agreement without saying a word.

- Kyle was fast in opening the door for you and once he saw what you were in, the red on his face was more than visible.

- Obviously, he couldn’t hide the fact he was staring and definitely interested in the sight you were giving him.

- He locked every lock on that door as soon as you got inside.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You hopped onto his couch the moment the warmth of the house enveloped you, causing you to sigh in content. The freezing temperatures of South Park made it impossible for a girl to get pretty but you weren’t letting that stop you. Your eyes landed back on Kyle who was dressed in a green long sleeve and brown pants.

His outfit was super cute, less risqué than yours, however, that did not matter. He still looked like a snack to you. And you were already willing to lunge for him. But, you kept your distance. For now.

The boy sat next to you and relaxed into the cushions along with, being the one to break the silence by complimenting what you were wearing, “I swear, you choose outfits that fit you too well sometimes.” Benefits of talking to a guy with brains was the way they word things. “You’re not helping my barely growing teenage brain here,” he added on as a joke. A part of you knew that he wasn’t entirely bluffing though.

This was proven when you glanced down at his lap to check if there was a sign and sure enough, a rising tent had appeared.

Kyle, quick to notice things, saw that you had peeked and grabbed for a pillow to sit it over his crotch. Embarrassed that he didn’t think of doing that as soon as his mind went south.

But, you weren’t going to ignore that. You couldn’t. Your eagerness was too much for you and the heat between your legs was screaming for you to get to moving. So, you huffed out, “I don’t think I want to help. I’m here for encouragement…” While scooting yourself to replace the pillow on his lap with your ass instead.

He tensed up, sucking a breath in, and using his hands to grip your hips. You could feel his boner poking your inner thigh, about to brush the spot you wanted it to the most which got you even more excited.

Kyle was just as excited, jabbering on as soon as you pressed down into him, “I was hoping you would say that. I didn’t think I could just be friends with you as much as I wouldn’t like to admit that…” His hips bucked upward into you repeatedly, rocking himself into a position where his hard-on could rub against you perfectly. Your eyes widened and a moan slipped out.

The front of his pants was starting to get wet from grinding up into your bare pussy, causing him to notice, and ask, “Are you wearing anything under that?” You shook your head no while biting your lip, moving one of your hands to grab your breast and the other to lift up your skirt.

He watched what you were doing with an aroused look to his green eyes, staring at your chest often. This gave you the idea to strip off your top and throw it to the floor.

What a good idea it was because it made Kyle leap to tug his pants off. His boxers followed with and out sprang his dick, hitting his chest from how hard it got. The freckled boy panted, a blush everywhere on his body, matching the color of his hair. He was unbelievably attractive like this.

You leaned down next to his ear to whisper while grabbing his shaft, “I’ve been wanting you inside me ever since Sophomore year.” Before pushing it inside of you and lowering yourself all the way down until you were sitting right on his v-line.

He shuddered and gripped onto you tightly, digging his head back into the couch from the pleasure that rushed through him at the warm, wet feeling wrapping around.

“You should’ve said something because I would’ve made that come true,” he said. That was the last thing that was spoken as the two of you got lost in sex. You began to bounce on him and he guided you to grind during the process. Your eyes drifting everywhere, going from dazing off at the wall, to looking at him without a single thought in the world other than how good he was making you feel.

Kyle was in the same state. Admiring you by skimming his hands across your sides and using his fingers to play with your nipples. After riding him for a couple of minutes and starting to sweat from the workout it was giving you, he flipped you to rest back onto the armrest.

He slowly rocked his dick into you, pushing into your walls, and digging for spots that made you gasp. His groans ended up being muffled into your neck as he buried himself in the crook of it, kissing against your skin, and creating hickies once he traveled enough.

During his slow fucking, he drifted his thumb over to your clit and rubbed it at a good pace that matched his thrusts. It had you constricting yourself around him until you were a shaking mess, cumming underneath his figure, and riding out the high with him.

The green-eyed boy pulled out when you finished, jerking himself off at a fast speed, and asking politely, “Can you open your mouth and level with it please?” Without hesitation, you lowered yourself to his dick and let him release all over your face.

You stuck your tongue out, feeling the sticky liquid decorate most of it before you swallowed the bit that landed there, looking up at him with a smile.

Both of you had to clean up more than watch movies after that, but that did not matter to you, whatsoever. The only thing that mattered from that point was the next weekend you had to plan with the Broflovski.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ End of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

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#3 ; Kenny McCormick

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Masc!Dom | Fem!Sub

What’s in here : Praise/ degrading kink, lots and lots of positions, public sex, and a creampie.

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- Well, well, well. What most of you’ve been waiting for. The guy that obviously will take no time in making you his fuck buddy!

- It’s pretty obvious that right away he made his intentions clear and he communicated them with no problem.

- And that’s exactly why you were into him.

- Kenny has an eye for girls that like to have a fun time and you happened to be one with a big reputation of rebellion.

- You loved ditching class, hating the kids, the work being too stressful, and all of the above was the reason why.

- And he was often caught back there as well. So, sooner or later, you came across each other on one of your breaks from the shitty school environment and took it together.

- Might have ended up in the mutual agreement of being FWB’s right then and there which lead to you giving the boy his first non-std infected blowjob.

- The thing that had gotten in your way, however, was the fact you had strict parents and this meant you had no way of getting out of the house to meet up with him.

- To make things worse and add the cherry on top, this started around the end of the school year and the both of you ended up having no way to contact each other because of this.

- Those two months for both you and Kenny were perhaps one of the most depressing periods of time in your life.

- After dealing with this, College had started and your parents began to let you have more freedom because you were becoming an adult.

- You were frustrated at the timing, the blonde-haired boy on the back of your mind the entire time they spoke to you about it. And the more you had longed to see him again.

- The first day of College arrived some time later and you had no idea what to expect.

- There was an uneasy feeling. You knew that Kenny wasn’t financially well off and you didn’t know if he was good grade-wise so it left you with the weight of finding out whether or not he was attending.

- Throughout the whole school day, you looked for him, high and low, low and high. Everywhere.

- He wasn’t in any single one of your classes. None of his friends were too. It seemed like all hope was lost and that the inevitable had happened.

- But, before you could end up back in that same pit of sadness, during the walk out of one of your classes to go to another; you passed by the stairs and someone grabbed you.

- Not knowing who it was, you put up a bit of a fight, losing pretty badly considering the person was quite strong, ending up behind the crevice of the stairs anyway.

- When you came face-to-face with the man that dragged you away, you squealed for joy.

- It was, of course, the McCormick.

- Both of you collided into a huge hug and stayed there for a while, cherishing each other’s warmth and smell.

- He’ll always have that faint smell of weed on him, but, it made him hotter in a way.

- It didn’t take long for the hug to turn into an elated talk.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Where have you been? How has life been treating you, Ken?” You asked while shoving his arm playfully, tilting your head to the side. He smirked at your behavior, finding it cute, before responding casually, “Honestly, it could be better. But, I’ve been doing okay. Now, that I’m getting to see my smokin’ hot babe again though, I think it’s more than great!” His nickname that he gave you made you crack up and blush at the same time.

Laughing along with you, he repeated the question, aiming it toward you this time. Your expression quickly dropped for a minute and when you remembered that he could pick up on that, you tried to play it off, “Oh, yeah! Uh, I’ve been okay too. Just been working my ass off in keeping my room clean so my parents won’t take my phone for the millionth time.”

A sigh left him hearing that and he clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head side to side while leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Still dealing with them? Damn, I’m all for parents making sure their kids are doing what they’re supposed to and actually taking care of em’, but, when you’re practically shoving your nose in their ass, that’s a problem,” he complained.

You agreed, “Tell me about it.” Rolling your eyes, you copied his body language by leaning too. Having dealt with them being this way since twelve, he didn’t even know half of it.

Silence began to fall onto your ears as Kenny opted for staring at you other than continue the conversation, his blue eyes scanning down your body, ultimately going for his perverted tendencies by lingering on your breasts a little too long. You snickered in response to this, “Really? You’re going to stare? You know you have hands, right pretty boy?”

Teasing him was just what you needed to do to make him budge as the McCormick turned to pin you to the wall, leaning down to get to your eye level. He gave you a small, soft kiss on the lips before pulling away to began lifting your shirt up above your head with a retort, “You should watch what you’re saying or else you’re going to end up being humiliated in front of a whole bunch of people, [Y/N].” So, he was saying your name now?

You decided you wanted to see if he would go that far by testing him, snaking your hand up to his waistband before shoving it inside of his pants without any struggle. Starting to rub him through his boxers right away, Kenny let out a grunt and pressed his forehead against yours while his brows furrowed.

Your voice lowered only for him to hear what you were telling him, “Do it. Fuck me so hard that everybody will know who’s screwing me that good.” His breath got shaky at that and you felt his cock throb in your hold.

He started tugging at his pants, bringing them down to his ankles along with his underwear from how eager he was after hearing what you said. A feeling of regret haunted you for a second when you glanced at the size of him, forgetting how huge he was until you got to see it in front of you.

But, that was overshadowed by how horny it also made you. Your own shorts were being thrown to the ground with the rest of the clothes. Eventually, leaving you both naked in front of each other.

Kenny was the quickest into getting in action, massaging your tits with both of his hands while moving his mouth to latch onto your neck. He made a couple of hickies working his way to your collarbone, running his fingers from your nipple to what’s in between your legs to rub your clit in circles for a minute.

Getting bored with this, he switched it up by continuously kissing lower and lower. Still sucking on certain spots to get it to bruise. He was marking you up and you were enjoying every single one. You moaned softly, trying to keep quiet, but loud enough for him to hear. After all, you didn’t want to actually get spotted doing this with him and end up expelled.

When he got to your pussy, his arms slid into the crevices of your thighs before he lifted both of them, spreading them across the wall. Then his mouth put all of the attention onto it.

Kenny licked your folds repeatedly at first to get a taste of your juices, gliding his tongue over your sensitive bud, and swirling it in a pattern to get you to make more noises for him. You were restless, grinding up into his face, and tugging onto his hair the moment he got to flicking side-to-side.

He went at it for a couple, causing you to cover your mouth midway through because of how much your voice was raising. It felt amazing. Like you were floating from how good his technique was.

Covering you with his spit from how messy he ate you out, you jutted your hips up and began to grind on his face. Around his mouth was a mess, spreading to his nose, and cheeks. He looked deep into your eyes the whole time he did it and switched to sucking your clit for the finale.

The blonde-haired boy got you to cum from that alone. Letting you roll on him like he was your new personal chair and smother his head with your thighs until pure bliss was the one thing showing in his expression.

Your juices spilled onto him, some landing where his dick was which worked out for lubrication in the long run. He stood back up, glistening in the sun from all the wetness, telling you with a smooth tone, “Turn around for me and put that ass up, baby.”

With shaky legs from the orgasm you had, you did what he said and bent over, your cheek pressed up on the cold bumpy surface. “Look at that… You’re being such a good little whore for your best friend,” Kenny cooed while grabbing your head and pushing you up against it; positioning himself with your entrance and sliding in easily. The both of you moaned out in satisfaction.

You had been waiting for him to do this to you for so long. And it didn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would. In fact, the big size and girth gave you the feeling of being full.

He sent loud slaps through the wall once he rammed his first set of thrusts into you, being fucked aggressively in doggy style despite you not being far from your peers and a death sentence from your parents.

The wet sounds mixing along with it didn’t help. And you were so sensitive that it made it impossible for you to hold your breath. The whining, yelps, and panting all at a high enough pitch that it was beginning to echo. You were going to get caught if he didn’t finish soon. Both of you would. But, for some reason, that didn’t sound as threatening as it should.

Your sense of danger was dulled from how hard he was railing you. And how turned on you were from it. Like he had molded you into being stupid for the time being.

You raked your nails on the wall and arched your back more, pleading out to him, “Faster, Kenny! Please, hurry up… I don’t want to get in trouble!” He paused as if he wasn’t expecting to hear that, but responded once it registered, “Okay, though you asked for this…”

Quickening his pace, your eyes shut and you used your hand to muffle yourself by biting onto it, crying out from his dick practically reaching into your stomach. He groaned, watching the display for himself to memorize, and slightly impressed at how dirty this hook-up was. You were going to be his favorite, for sure.

His end began to near around the time the bell was about to ring again, people about to fill the halls any second now while you’re being pummeled by the biggest pervert in school. You murmured curses quietly, feeling him grab both of your wrists while chasing his high as fast as he could. Tears left your eyes when Kenny finally reached it.

He didn’t pull out. Instead, he fucked his jizz inside of you and pumped every last drop he could. “Fuck! Fuck, that’s right… Take as much as you fucking can.” His dirty words were like music to your ears and the way his cum filled you to the brim made you hum. Drool dripping down the side of your mouth from how out of it you were.

Although, he was put in a tricky situation considering you could no longer walk and he possibly could’ve got you pregnant, a huge derpy smile stayed on Kenny’s face for the rest of the time he was with you. No one had seen him that happy ever. So, there was a lot of questions you had to answer when the boy ended up confessing that it was because of you. Who knew it was so hard to keep a secret with the McCormick.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ End of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

════════════════════════

#4 ; Craig Tucker

The song that I thought fit this best :

Sexual Dynamic : Masc!Sub | Masc!Dom

What’s in here : Yandere Craig (doing it cause I felt like it), mentions of murder, rough/painful sex, and a cumshot with a creampie.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

- Well fuck, this guy had known you for so long that he could barely remember when he first met you.

- But, that didn’t mean you two were close.

- You were simply friends from afar before ending up complete nobodies to each other around the time college came about.

- Or that’s what you thought.

- Craig had only stopped talking to you, he didn’t completely stop from hanging around you.

- Meaning that he would often drop by the places he knew you were hanging around to sit nearby and watch what you would do.

- This wouldn’t be creepy if it weren’t for the fact that the only place you liked to be inside was your dorm room. So, he was watching you from your window.

- It was easy for him considering the two of you were neighbors and whenever he wasn’t occupied with his love life, he’d be lost in staring at you playing the guitar or even go as far as watching you change.

- At some point, his infatuation with you peaked after coming across a late night masturbation session you were having, forgetting to close the blinds which let him have access to the scene.

- You had no shirt on, your pants barely above your knees, watching something on your computer screen. And his body was quick to react when he looked down.

- He got an idea to bring out his camera and record you, taking the moment to have fun himself.

- After jerking off and cumming around the same time with you, muttering your name in the middle of it, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to sit beside and just watch you forever.

- With an entire month of constantly recording you, breaking into your room and taking some of your clothes. Even stealing pencils that you broke out of boredom from the trash to keep in his drawer and watching you get drunk until you hooked up with random woman. Craig spiraled downward into an unhealthy obsession.

- He couldn’t stand it when seeing you flirt with girls despite knowing that you had no knowledge of his existence.

- If you took them home or went home with them, they would end up missing the next day.

- Craig didn’t know why he did it. He just simply felt the motive. Maybe it was because they were girls and he was a boy or maybe because he was in love with you. Honestly, he didn’t want to think on it.

- It got out that some of these woman were disappearing around your area and you ended up finding out it was the ones you hooked up with when the police were at your door.

- You were questioned and put as the number one suspect because you were the last person seen with them. And this confused and scared you badly.

- The police were convinced you were telling the truth by the way you reacted to the interrogation. Answering all of their questions sincerely, even telling them details of that night you had with them but not going too far to where it was weird.

- Also, the devastation on your face was easy to see. So they left you alone.

- However, this haunted you and you became desperate on trying to find out more about what happened to the girls by asking around. As well as waiting for more information from the investigation.

- The black-haired boy had to keep a low profile after and thanked himself for dumping the bodies in the lake further ahead of time.

- He was oddly disappointed in himself because of what he had done. Not because he had taken the lives away from innocent girls, but because he made your life become so hectic and had you go through so much stress.

- After the ordeal was dying down and the cops were coming to a dead end, the cases went cold and Craig went about his daily life of stalking you once again.

- You did not come back from this okay. Actually, it lead you to distancing from people romantically and sexually because you were afraid they would disappear.

- Landing you in therapy to get over the traumatic experience and depression that was swallowing you whole. Making you lose all of your friends and end up alone.

- And who would’ve known that Craig happened to need to go to the same therapist too? After his parents had found him talking to a wall and carving an initial into himself, your initial.

- He was admitted out of self harm. But, really, he was coping with the fact he couldn’t follow you during the search for the kidnapper of your flings.

- This gave him an opportunity to get to know you though as you crossed paths often when waiting in the lobby for appointments.

- One day, he told himself he was going to try and greet you. It should be easy because you both used to know each other, right?

- But this lead to him dodging it as soon as he got near you.

- You could be thirty feet away and Craig was standing there, panicking in his head, his face the exact opposite with barely any emotion present. Contradicting his stoicism, his heartbeat was racing.

- Your eyes had glanced over and ended up locking with his, raising a brow like you were questioning him.

- Then he saw you get up and began to head over to him.

- He became extremely nervous and excited all at the same time, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath to ready himself before you were right in front of him.

- His blue eyes were intense and burrowed themselves into your head as you got to finally talk to the guy you’d been seeing around.

- Might have been an socializing assignment your therapist gave you so you can repair your relationship with people. Fucked up considering he’s the one that ruined it in the first place.

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ Start of Scenario ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“I remember you! You’re the guy that lived in my neighborhood! Your name’s Craig, right?” You gave him a chipper smile, taking off your headphones to rest them on your shoulders. Craig had froze and stared at you blankly before rushing to find something to respond with, “Uh, yeah, I happen to be that guy.” It came out more awkward than he had wanted it to but who could blame him? He was talking to the boy he had been immensely infatuated with for months now who was acting extremely casual.

You laughed in victory at the correct guess and placed out a hand for him to shake, telling him why you approached, “That’s great! I had been looking for some more friends actually as I’ve went through something a little while ago and it’s left me a bit lonely. You think you could be my friend?”

He didn’t know how to register what you were saying but he wasn’t upset about it in the slightest. Although, his mind wasn’t concluding this as you two being ‘friends’. Grabbing your hand, he shook it and forgot to not put so much force, ending up yanking you a little too forward.

Your face collided with his chest due to losing your balance, making him catch you, and help you regain it by making you hug him. It didn’t help that you were at his height too because as soon as you pulled back, your nose was almost touching his. His eyes were back to burning themselves into yours, an electric feeling running through you at the moment. ‘Why did he look at me like that?’ you wondered, ‘Like I’m the most interesting thing in the world.’

Craig had to hold himself back from doing anything stupid and last minute, tensing up and slowly getting you to move back to where you were by grabbing both of your shoulders. You blinked rapidly and muttered out an apology, “My bad, I didn’t mean to fall into you and stay there, you just got really pretty eyes man.” That wasn’t a lie, you did think the color was super nice to look at.

But this compliment hit him way harder than it should’ve. And he found himself beginning to blush, blurting out a compliment back before he could think, “So are yours.”

The both of you were becoming flustered, looking at each other for a minute until you thought of another topic to talk about, trying to save yourself from spawning a crush on the guy. “So, what do you like to do in your spare time?” you went for that. And instead of answering, he asked you another question, “Do you smoke?”

Your eyes went wide as you watched him reach into his pocket and pull out a blunt the size of a finger, staring at it in disbelief. This was the weirdest interaction you’ve had yet. And how did he know that you were okay with that? And smoked weed? Did you smell like it? All these questions ran through your head but at some point, you had to answer him, and free drugs were a hard thing to come by, so you were honest, “Yeah, I do.”

A part of you felt pumped about it while another was a bit weirded out. However, you forgot about it quickly as soon as the blue-eyed man started walking away. You began to follow behind him, keeping up enough to watch his back the entire way, and admiring the trees every second or so when you got bored.

It was quiet. Not a word exchanged between them. That was because Craig was over his head. He was piecing something together in his thoughts, forming a plan, one that wasn’t what you would call sane. But, that was because he simply wasn’t. He couldn’t pretend like he hadn’t been thinking of you in a certain way for a long time. Like he hadn’t killed for you because of it.

As he lead you to a nearby alleyway he went to when he wanted to watch you in private, his back turned and he was facing you again. This place was damp and dark, the smell not the best, but it was away from society. And that was perfect for this.

The ravenette rested against the wall and lifted the blunt in between his fingers to rest right on his lips before reaching into his pocket to pull out a lighter. He lit the end of it, resting the flame on the tip for a couple of seconds as he sucked in a huge cloud that left his mouth the second he blew it out.

Holding it out to you afterward, a trail of smoke drifted from the cherry while you took it in your own two fingers. You took a hit from it just like he did, knowing that this was a really good kind as soon as you tasted how smooth the bud was. Your eyes closed and you held it in for five seconds before letting it out until all the air escaped your lungs so you didn’t die from coughing.

Hissing through your teeth, you ended up still letting out a grunt and cleared your throat to ease the burn in the back of your throat. “Shit, that’s a pretty good strain, what is it?” you asked in the middle of your struggle.

Craig took another drag and doubled it while responding nonchalantly like it was nothing, “It’s called Azul. I grew it.” He glanced down at the blunt to check on its burning status and decided it needed another light.

After getting it bright again, he handed it back to you and let you take a couple more puffs, putting his hands in his pockets. An impressed look crossed your face and what he said piqued your curiosity, you asked like you didn’t believe him, “Really?? You’re a grower? Don’t you go to my school and dorms?” It seemed you were going to get along with this guy way more than you thought you would.

More time passed as the two of you progressively got higher and higher each pass, ending up with you laughing contagiously at a joke he had made about a lady that passed by. You would’ve normally quietly chuckled and try to contain it because of how mean it was as you didn’t want to feel bad. But, the state you were in was more than relaxed.

A small smile appeared on Craig while he watched you lose it, “Dude! That’s so messed up… Come on!” You hit his arm and rested your head on his shoulder from being out of it, mumbling into his sweater. He put out the blunt then because he knew that any more would be way too much. Once you got to lift your head and rest your chin on him, he turned his toward you.

He looked down, so close that you could feel his breath brushing against you, and that made your heart stop. Muttering quietly, his questions took a turn that you didn’t expect, “Have you ever kissed a guy before?” Almost instantly, you could feel your dick starting to rise, causing you to cover it with your hand while responding in an unsure tone, “No…”

When your eyes flickered down to his lips after the mention of it though, he was fast to press them against yours. You didn’t resist but you didn’t return it either. Letting him softly kiss you before he pulled away to conclude, “Now you have. How did it feel?”

It was like the oxygen had left you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around why you liked that so much. And the fact he tasted like raspberries was not helping. Was a guy really going to be the one that gave you the best kiss of your life?

He frowned when you took forever to answer, sighing through his nose, and pulling away with a rejected tone, “Fuck, well, sorry I made you question your sexuality, [Y/N].” Before he could get far, you grabbed his collar and made him go back to where he was but ended up overestimating how far you were tugging him. He stumbled forward and pushed you up against the wall, both of his hands landing on both sides of your head to catch himself while your noses touched.

Craig held a glare with you, confused. He didn’t understand why you weren’t saying anything but also refusing to kiss him back as well. Were you into it? Did you want to? You still couldn’t open your mouth to put it into words, in denial about what was happening. But, you gave him something to let him know that it wasn’t bad by returning the kiss gently.

You were barely brushing up into him like you were shy of the action. And he understood that it was because you hadn’t done it in a while so he savored what he could. You were kissing him. Finally, he had gotten what he wanted. He was the one locking lips with you. Not anybody else.

His hands drifted to your sides, slowly moving to your waist so he could hook his fingers at the bottom of your shirt. Knowing where this was going, a knot formed in your throat and you placed your hands on his chest to push him away. “I don’t know if I can go that far,” you finally said something. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to. It was because you couldn’t stop worrying about his safety. All that you could think about was his name in the news headlines and pictures of his chullo hat covered in blood laying in some bushes.

Your breathing went out of control and he could tell you were about to go into a panic attack, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he saw the signs, remembering them from the times you were in your dorm room crying about the interrogation months ago.

There was that guilty feeling in his chest. It made his heart heavy. He didn’t want you to feel like this. Especially when all this worry was for nothing. So, he decided to mumble out the best reassurance he could think of, “I don’t know what’s going on with you. I have no idea what had happened to that friendship we had for a minute back then too. You’ve been out of the loop for quite a while, [Y/N].” He moved back to stare directly at you with sincerity in his voice, “All I know is that kissing someone has never felt so right and if I could, can I make you feel safe enough to trust me with your body for tonight?”

That was the most convincing someone has ever been. And this high helped you calm yourself while using the breathing techniques your therapist gave. You bit your bottom lip before sighing out in frustration, looking around at where you were, and then exclaiming, “Fine! But, can we please do it somewhere else other than a fucking disgusting alleyway?”

Craig stared at you like you were crazy until his face twisted from holding back laughter, ending up bursting at the seams anyway as it sputtered out of him. “You’re right. This isn’t the place to be screwing a pretty boy like you,” he slyly said as he began to head out of the alleyway. You ran after him, trying to brush off what he said but still feeling the butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Eventually, the two of you made it inside of your dorm room, the Tucker locking the door behind you with a snide remark, “So, are you going to answer my question from earlier? How was kissing a boy for the first time?”

You forgot about that. Your mind flashing back to the memory of the kiss, vividly remember how soft his lips were, and how patient he was in his pace. He was aggressive but soft. A perfect mixture. Snapping out of it, you stammered out, “I hadn’t kissed someone in quite a while… Or well, a girl. And it was always quick-paced like they were in a rush to get to the good parts. But with you… Well, with a boy, it was like you couldn’t get enough. That, I think, made it practically impassable.”

What you said made Craig sit in your computer chair and stare at you in awe, reaching his hand up to pull off his hat, and placing it down on your desk. He reached out his hand for yours now and murmured, “Come over here and sit.” You walked over to him and took it, about to actually prop yourself down onto his lap before he stopped you right as you were. “Wait. I need to fix something,” he said as he went to unbutton your pants.

Taking in a sharp inhale through your nose , his hands wasted no time in tugging them off along with your boxers. “Fuck, you move fast. Hold on, let me prepare myself at least,” you sounded embarrassed and you were because your hard-on was so visible. He chuckled at that, “Okay then. I’ll get myself undressed while you can work on getting those off.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but get a look at Craig starting to take his jacket and shirt off, automatically checking him out, and to your surprise, he was pretty built. He noticed you staring and teased, “If you want to see all of it, get to moving, I want to see you too.” That was a bargain you couldn’t say no to, holding your breath as you gripped around the hem of your boxers.

Then you pulled them off, letting them fall to your ankles, tugging your shirt off afterward to get it out of the way. The only thing left on you was your socks and the same was for him a couple of seconds later.

He eyed you up and down with his blue orbs, reaching for your wrist, and pulling you back into touching your knees with his. Both of his hands placed onto your shoulders and began lowering you down until you were coming face-to-face with his huge dick, watching it twitch with a slightly ajar mouth.

“You’re going to have to get it wet if you want to go any further, pretty boy,” he whispered, grabbing your chin to guide your mouth toward him. You couldn’t believe you were doing this, opening wide before taking the tip and wrapping your lips around it. Craig grunted and put a hand on your head, gripping onto your hair to deal with the pleasure.

The texture was different than you expected to feel on your tongue but it was also satisfying in a way. And it didn’t take long for you to get into swallowing most of his length, easing it into your throat, and tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum the more you sucked.

Grabbing harder onto you, he moved his hips upward and made all of his dick go down into your mouth. This caused you to gag and jolt backward, coughing and making a face at him. “What the fuck, man,” you angrily said and got back up onto your feet.

However, Craig was extremely impatient by this point and he could no longer hold up the soft facade he had with you anymore. He stood up with you and within seconds, you were slammed down into your bed while his hand dug into your neck, tightening around your throat to make you choke more than you had on him.

Noises squeaked out of you while the air was leaving you, his other hand positioning himself to your ass and spitting on it to get you ready. He rubbed it around and made you shudder, having never been touched there which caused it to feel super sensitive.

He made both of your legs wrap around his waist once his tip began to push inside, slowly stretching your hole out as you grabbed his wrist to try and pull his hand off of you. It hurt so bad. His size bigger than most so it made it almost numbing the more he slid into you. Your eyes were struggling to stay open as you were close to passing out from the loss of oxygen.

That’s what made him stop. He removed his hand from your neck and balled up both of them into fists, punching them into the pillow your head was resting on while rearing his hips back. He made his entire dick slide out before forcing it back in, making it feel like he was tearing your ass apart from the roughness. You screamed out, “FUCK! CRAIG! WAIT! WAIT, IT HURTS!”

Slapping a hand to cover your mouth, he continued to ram himself over and over into you, watching you take him with several groans slipping out. He was frantic in his movements and made your bed sound like it was about to give up underneath the strength he put into fucking you.

He made you forget about the anxiety alright. Letting you know why you didn’t have to be afraid of him being taken away but rather be afraid of him altogether. At the same time, you were being fucked into liking it. The sweat, slapping from the colliding of skin, and the shaking of your legs set up the perfect scenery for him. He got to see you fucked out underneath him, because of him, all for him. And that was all he needed.

Leaning into your neck, he finally came to a slow pace and rocked up into your walls, gliding his fingers down your chest to play with your tip and the pre-cum on it. Craig was giving you a break, wrapping his palm around the base of your dick until he was pumping it up and down at the exact pace he was thrusting into you. The combined pleasure was enough to get you to moan out in relief, “Much better… Oh, god, that’s much better…”

Another rare smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he moaned with you, burying all of his length for a moment before pulling back again to quicken his speed. “That’s what happens when you’re being a good fuck toy,” he praised. Jerking you off faster and faster as well.

You buried your head into the pillow and felt him start to kiss around your Adam’s apple, littering them around until his teeth brushed around a spot that made you jump. When he found it, he bit into the sensitive area and that caused everything in you to unravel. Your cum shot out on your chest and landed in between his fingers, spreading across his hand, and some even getting on his lower stomach.

He continued to rail himself in you for another long minute before reaching his end alongside you, the warm fluid escaping him with a loud growl, “[Y/N]! Shit… You’re so.. fucking… perfect.” Once he was finished completely and everything had emptied out into your hole, he slid his dick out. Letting the cum spill out onto your sheets while collapsing next to you to rest. The both of you stared at each other in a daze for the last moments you managed to stay awake and as you were about to pass out, Craig had confessed to you, “I think I love you…”

╚═════════════════════╝

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Sorry for any errors or misspellings! I had tried to rush through this little thing when I saw it was getting too long so progressively, it might’ve got worse. But, this is overall what I’ve been working on for a couple and I hope you enjoyed!

Stick around for some more if you want! I got plenty where that came from. And if you like the other fandoms I’m interested in, you would definitely want to follow. I’ll be releasing a lot of those soon!

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poopwons · 5 months

Text

**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.”

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking.

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all.

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts.

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,”

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor.

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong.

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.”

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered.

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want.

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.”

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything.

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other.

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same.

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.”

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it.

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit.

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him.

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.”

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips.

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up.

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows.

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you.

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips.

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties.

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger.

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest.

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this.

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you.

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you.

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him.

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth.

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes.

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white.

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath.

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment.

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly.

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side.

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??”

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise.

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖

#jean kirstein #snk jean #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #snk smut #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #jean x you #jean x y/n #aot fanfiction #no use of y/n

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owliellder · 9 months

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

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pryllee · 3 months

Text

7 minutes in heaven, or 7 hours.

Blade x AFAB! Reader

Dubcon, stomach bulge, kinda degradation/praise kink, slight mean blade with a sprinkle of softheartedness, cunnilungus/fingering, riding, jealous reader, kinda jealous blade ”ugly body” rejections whatever mentioned in start, hickeys/marking, tit sucking, bit of possessiveness in both so the feeling can be mutual, small breeding kink mention

A/N: I get pretty awkward and cringey while trying to write fuck parts so I hope anyone who reads this finds this good. And maybe I'll make HCs with him taking care of a child next time... If anyone wants that. 🥲

—

As depressed you already were, it already sucked even more with each rejection that slapped you at the face. You slammed the can of alcohol onto the table as Blade just watched leaning his head onto the wall.

"Ugh these fuckin' asses..." You held onto your head annoyed as hell,

"You know, we should be heading back now." He scanned you, before looking away again to try avoid your ’fiery fists’

You complained, slamming a fist onto the table almost making it break. "Oh c'mon don't make it worse than it already is! These idiots have the nerve to call my body unattractive, they might've just had atleast one more kiss before they died, no? Not like they were any better..." Silently whispering the last part.

Your brows furrowed noticing him staring off into the distance, probably at someone. You tried to find the direction he was looking in, and found a pretty girl almost your height, but her curves really showed through that waitress uniform.

A small ’oh’ of disappointment almost escaped your lips, making your eye twitch. "Maybe your right. Lets go." You grabbed the can with half of alcohol left.

Your walking almost felt like you were stomping leaving Blade barely confused, more like unfazed as he found this normal.

—

You noticed the place felt a little lonely, you didn't hear much till you advanced inside further and noticed some of the stellaron hunters and probably new recruits due to some unfamiliar faces along with Kafka on the side and Silverwolf. "Hi, [ Y/N ]. Nice to see you've brought Blade along with you." Kafka smiled as Silverwolf blew gum up, tapping away on her gaming console.

"Whats going on? They playin' spin the bottle?" You pointed drunkly with drool almost oozing out of your mouth. "Hmm...—seven minutes in heaven or whatever." She waved her hand as her back leaned against a pillar.

What is with these people leaning against shit? Just how disinterested really are they?

"Lemme participate." You spoke as you squeezed in a spot in the circle pushing some people aside joining the weird circle formation that felt like a cult. "What about you, Bladie? Won't you join her too?"

"Not interested. I don't really care about those type of feelings." He was about to walk away in the way both of you came, till Kafka offered him something.

"Hmm, I'm sure Silverwolf can secure you some time with her?" Pointing at her as he noticed a little wheel thing that controlled the bottle. "Unless you want her to give herself up to someone else, that is."

He clenched a fist tightly, loosening it quickly as he just also squeezed in a spot opposite of where you are.

He watched the previous can you held be thrown away assuming you already finished it or didn't and just hated the taste now. As the bottle kept spinning for some time, you wondered when it would land on you and choose a decent looking dude. Till it finally did. But then landed on Blade.

Your expression of happiness quickly went away realizing who else it landed on, would he even want to do spicy with you? If anything he'd probably rather do it with that stupid girl he stared at earlier. Maybe I should kill her. Whoops, thoughts got a little offtrack there.

The person on your right was nudging your shoulder to follow Blade in, as you quickly took a glance at Kafka feeling like something was up. And you were right cause something really was up. You followed him in, as he locked the door behind you both.

"So what do we do? Play cards? Or should we find that girls number?" You scoffed in annoyance wondering how the fuck you both even got paired up. Not like he'd find you anything more than friends.

You once planned to confess to him but as you were looking for him, you overheard some parts of a ’private’ conversation.

"Bladie, what do you prefer in a girl?" Kafka smiled, asking him. He just looked away as he looked in your direction, it felt like he saw you, but then it felt like he didn't as it really was just an open corridor thing.

"I don't know. I don't care about such things... But probably someone good with a sword and is stronger than me." He mumbled the last part, seemingly unsure of his words infront of Kafka as she'd probably do some weird shit.

"Oh? I thought you liked girls like [ Y/N ]?" She pried. "No... We're just co-workers, shes too bold for me too." He sighed, speaking in a low tone.

Just co-workers? Ha, is he fucking insane? Not even friends... But literal co-workers? You walked away holding onto your broken heart with tears bubbling up a little but you just wiped them away deciding to push your feelings away.

"Hmm... Poor [ Y/N ], seems pretty upset that she thought she was already rejected without the chance to even ask directly..." Kafka whispered in a low tone, glancing in the same direction he looked in previously.

"...Excuse me?" He asked, yet only got a headshake and ’nothing.’ in response. Did ’Elio’ also foresee this? How come Blade wouldn't get to know though? Well I guess he wouldn't need to since it's not related to the Astral Express or Stelle.

—

"Girls number? Who exactly are you talking about?" He asked, making the atmosphere even more awkward. "Oh please, don't act like I didn't see how you stared down that girl with ’beautiful’ curves in that stupid bar." You scoffed, crossing your arms.

"Is this seven minutes in heaven, or seven minutes in hell listening to you complain? And I didn't stare her down. I was just looking at her because ’curves’ were related in the stupid topic. You're the one who just stomped away like a furious little kid." His words hit you hard into the face, "And we aren't dating, I don't see how you're so pissed off about it."

You were practically seething in anger as you just turned around to go through the rooms backdoor to go outside. "And where are you going?" You felt him grip onto your waist, which sent shivers up your spine. "None of your business." You tried to push his hands off yet his grip only tightened even more.

"Blade..– Let go." Your breathing slowly became more and more hitched as the gap between you closed. Suddenly the lights went out and you heard Kafka announce something that made everyone walk away.

"Have fun, you two." Kafka whispered to herself, although she knew you couldn't hear.

"Hm? What happened, Kafka?" Silverwolf confusingly followed her from behind.

His chest pressed against your back, feeling his breathe becoming heavier as his hand slid down to your inner thigh, making you try to squirm out of his grasp almost instantly. "Blade stop—nnh.."

A soft low moan was made out as he caressed your clothed sex, you held onto the door infront of you, "Do you want me, [ Y/N ]?" He whispered into your ear. As short silence filled the room, he spun you around, lifting you up with his arms with your back pressing against the now locked door. "Answer me, you whore."

His eyes bored into yours. Your eyes darted everywhere trying to find a way to escape or somewhere decent to look at. "Whats with the act? How come you're so shy now?" He teased, chuckling, leaning into your lips. His tongue mixing with yours as you held onto him for Aeons sake, digging your nails into his back.

He pulled away with a string of saliva connecting from both of your lips, before leaning back down biting down on your tops button spitting each one out. "Do you really need to destroy my top? I could've just undo it by myself."

This felt like a dream come true, yet you also wished you would just wake up from it, it feels so wrong yet so right.

"Hmm... Can't have a pretty girl like you falling onto the ground now can we?" He held you with one arm now, with the other needily pushing the remains of your dignity away to reveal your chest. Yet another obstacle arised due to your bra. "Shouldn't we...—stop here? I'm sure it's already been seven minutes.." He shook his head, just pushing your bra down.

"Mmh, how cute, you're the one who wanted this for so long yet you're the one who also wants this to stop already." He bit down on your nipple, suckling on it like he tried to milk you,

"Maybe I should breed you with kids so I can suck alot of milk out of you, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" You moaned softly from time to time, covering your mouth with one hand as the other travelled up his hair,

"Mmngh... I— maybe...nnnh" you whimpered. His mouth was suckling one with one hand cupping the other and flicking at your now hard nipples leaving hickeys. You sobbed out his name softly, "I assume thats a yes? Can't believe how turned on you are when I'm only playing with your tits."

The previous hand that was cupping your boob slid down your pants, pushing it down along with your panty,

"Be a dear and say my name, maybe I'll help with that wetness down there then." His gloved finger ran down your slit, making you shudder,

"blade..." You mumbled

"Can't hear ya."

"Ugh... blade," You looked away embarrassed, your nails again digging into his back.

"Hmm?"

"Oh for Aeons sake, Blade please just fuck me!" You cried out in annoyance, the embarrassment was more than enough.

"Good girl." He lifted you over to a table, laying you on it with you facing him, "Wasn't so hard now was it?" He took his gloves off, pulling your pants off exposing your legs and cunt.

The tension got heavier with the bare cold hitting against your chest and lower half. He aligned two fingers with your hole, slowly pushing it in. "Be gentle—please..." You looked away,

"Mhm... And why should I?" He cooed "Could this be your first time?" You slightly nodded, as he just looked back at your hole, pushing his fingers in deeper forcing a moan out of you; "Ughh..—Blade! Nnh!" You cried, arching your back miserably, it hurt like a bitch yet slowly felt good.

He can't believe he almost gave your virginity up to someone else other than him, the fact you could've been moaning out someone elses name really is annoying.

His fingers thrusted in and out at a painfully slow pace, your walls tightened vigorously and it was so easy for him to access with how wet and slick your pussy already was for him. The pace got faster, with his fingers slightly becoming curled with each passing thrust adding another finger in.

"Fuck! Blade—nngh.. shit..." You cussed out clawing at the table feeling a knot in your tummy loosening, you came all over his fingers making a mess on the table. "Look at what a fucking mess you made, what a slut getting off with my fingers alone." He shoved his fingers down your mouth, onto your tongue,

"Lick it." You moaned softly to try and tease him, along with some sucking. "Ha, maybe I shouldn't have let you cum that easily." He flicked your clit making you yelp a little loudly.

The bulge in his pants was starting to become unbearable, but atleast it's time to actually have some intercourse. He undid his belt, slipping his pants off pulling you closer to him, sitting infront.

You became a tad bolder, holding onto his thigh and with the other hand you held onto his arm. "Sit still, pretty girl." he reprimanded,

He finally slipped his boxers down grabbing onto your ass lifting you up pressing your now dry saliva-ridden tits against his chest slightly with him holding his length, "Uhhm... Are you sure it's going inside of me?" You stared nervously at his length "Yes, and I'll make it fit if you're so worried about that." He spat on his hands, rubbing around it.

"Don't girls usually do that by sucking it?" You ask perplexed, "Mmh... They do, but I'm sure the both of us can't wait to start this fuckfest."

He chuckled again lowly, burrowing his head into the crook of your collarbone kissing it leaving a hickey as he blindly shoved it inside of your hole making your back arch, and tremble. His mouth travelled down again to your nipple, suckling on it and drawing circles around it with his tongue. He stuck his hand in place on your stomach feeling the bulge disappear and appear each thrust he does.

"Fuck—" low moans rolled off your tongue, "... Feels so good, Blade.." He sloppily thrusted inside, trying to find your g-spot, finally noticing you tighten arching your backing vigorously at one of the thrusts, thrusting again making you moan loudly.

"Shh. Do you want someone to hear us?" He shoved a finger in your mouth, spitting onto your tongue making you swallow it. "Such a whore, swallowing my spit so easily." He leaned in for another kiss, mixing saliva together once again sloppily thrusting rolling his tongue around with yours.

His thrusts got faster 'n deeper yet somehow still managed to hit your G-spot everytime, you threw your legs around him, and arms around his neck smashing your lips against him. "Fuck—I'm so close [ Y/N ]... He mumbled lowly with one of his hands travelling down to rub your clit furiously.

You creamed around his cock, liquids dripping down your thighs and his shaft furiously feeling yourself coming closer to your climax. You burrowed your head into his neck, messing his collar up and leaving small hickeys as you bit at him.

"Really what a whore, I can't believe you could've been like this with someone else." His words made you scoff slightly, "Neither can I." Grunts could be heard under his breathe and your moans getting louder and bolder till both of you came at the same time, white liquid filled your womb yet you still felt his length barely softening,

You tightened around him hard you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, "Mmh.. Not done yet." He whispered, blowing into your ear having reality settle into your very veins.

"Don't tell me you still have stamina..." You said in a tired tone. "I do, infact I still do have enough till morning." He laughed leaving another hickey on your collarbone, biting on it feeling proud of all the markings hes made on you.

—

Light shined through the blinds, quite literally almost blinding you till you realized you have no idea where the fuck you are. You were in some weird house, in someones bed. You got up and noticed you were naked, hurriedly finding clothes to wear.

Till you noticed the closet was full of mens wear, yet you just grabbed whatever looked comfortable and strided out of that room... Which was probably Blades room. You noticed a mirror right when you stepped out, and saw hickeys everywhere on your collarbone and neck. "So it really wasn't a dream..."

"What wasn't a dream?" You saw him appear from the side holding a cup of coffee in different clothes for the first time. "Also you're wearing my clothes. They seem too big for you." He remarked, "Well obviously, I have no idea where the hell you threw my clothes off too and the tops buttons were torn off by you."

"Calm down you two, we don't wanna stir up trouble in this house, otherwise we'll be found out and chased out. Also stop with the love quarreling." Silverwolf sighed also in different clothes. "Okay why is everyone in different clothes for the first time? Am I going insane?" You rubbed your eyes.

"Now we may wear the same outfit for a long time but we definitely wear something else at night to sleep comfortably, thank you." She replied in an ’isn't it obvious?’ tone. Blade just leaned on the wall sipping the cup of coffee.

Silverwolf then seemed to remember something, hurriedly tip toeing over to you, "How was it?" She whispered in your ear. "What? How was what? I don't know what you're talking about." You flushed red running away to find the bathroom.

"The bathrooms the other way." He yelled loudly in an unfazed tone. "I KNEW THAT!!!" You screamed dashing the other way.

"Oh dear Blade... What exactly did you do to her?" "Nothing. Don't go thinking weird stuff about me now." He took another sip of his coffee before following in your tracks to also go to the ’bathroom.’

——

#prylleewrites—✮#hsr blade x reader #blade x reader #blade x reader hsr #blade x reader smut #hsr blade x reader smut #blade x reader hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader smut #honkai star rail x reader #stellaron hunters

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atopvisenyashill · 11 months

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patterns of abuse with jaehaerys

this post made me deeply depressed and i reread f&b which was my first mistake.

tldr i’m making the argument that jaehaerys definitely sexually abused saera and alysanne, and likely viserra and gael, and also i hate this man. if you disagree and want to say so *nicely* that’s cool but if you hardcore love jae and don’t want to hear criticism, maybe just scroll past bc i’m not nice to him at all (obviously, i’m accusing him of csa lol).

breaking this down by each woman, so there’s 6 sections: saera, viserra, daella, gael, alysanne, and alicent.

saera targaryen

If she were the king’s firstborn, or better still his only child, she would be well content. Instead she finds herself the ninthborn, with six living siblings who are older than her and even more adored. Aemon is to be king, Baelon most like will be his Hand, Alyssa may be all her mother is and more, Vaegon is more learned than she is, Maegelle is holier, and Daella…when does a day go by when Daella is not in need of comfort? And whilst she is being soothed, Saera is being ignored. Such a fierce little thing she is, they say, she has no need of comfort. They are wrong in that, I fear. All men need comfort.

that’s septon barth’s opinion on her and barth is always right. simply put, she’s a deeply neglected child who acts like a brat to get her parents attention because she’s learned the only way they’ll pay attention to her is if she’s causing a problem.

Before she was eleven, she was stealing wine and ale instead. By twelve, she was like as not to arrive drunk when summoned to the sept for prayer.

The king’s half-witted fool, Tom Turnip, was the victim of many of her japes, and her unwitting catspaw for others. Once, before a great feast where many lords and ladies were to be in attendance, she persuaded Tom that it would be much funnier if he performed naked. It was not well received.

stealing alcohol at 10 and being a committed alcoholic at 12 is not normal behavior. it is a sign of something deeply at wrong at home. also, the way she kind of, sexually humiliated tom, someone who is too “innocent” to even realize she’s sexually humiliating him…gives me the ick re: how she views sex.

Saera had learned the art of getting anything she wanted from her father: a kitten, a hound, a pony, a hawk, a horse (Jaehaerys did draw a firm line at the elephant). Queen Alysanne was far less gullible, however, and Septon Barth tells us that Saera’s sisters all misliked her to various degrees.

i don’t like this. nothing wrong with giving your child gifts (see ned going above and beyond to get arya not just instruction on how to fight but also a specific style that would gel with being smaller than your average opponent) but in conjunction with “jaehaerys ignores saera unless she’s pressing him for an expensive gift which he immediately gives her and alysanne doesn’t get why he caved so quickly” its an alarming dynamic.

also speaks to how isolated saera specifically was, that the only siblings that like her (aemon and baelon) are usually out and about, and there’s a clear wedge between saera and her sisters, even viserra.

The screams were coming from Tom Turnip, who was lurching helplessly in circles trying to escape from half a dozen naked whores, whilst the patrons of the house laughed uproariously and shouted on the harlots. Jonah Mooton, Red Roy Connington, and Stinger Beesbury were amongst those patrons, each one drunker than the last. They had thought it would be funny to see old Turnip do the deed, Red Roy admitted. Then Jonah Mooton laughed and said the jape had all been Saera’s notion, and what a funny girl she was.

again with sexually humiliating tom.

it continues with her friends. it’s not unusual for a 15 year old girl to want to fool around with other 15 year olds but alys and perri are all guilt ridden and upset and alys is with child. it reminds me a lot of cersei sexually abusing taena in affc. when she’s caught (now, mind you, she’s been marched in front of her parents sitting on the throne and not brought to them in their private rooms. she’s being treated right off the bat as if she’s guilty of a crime and not guilty of being a shitty teenager):

“She went from denial to dismissal to quibbling to contrition to accusation to justification to defiance in the space of an hour, with stops at giggling and weeping along the way,” Septon Barth would write. “She never did it, they were lying, it never happened, how could they believe that, it was just a game, it was just a jape, who said that, that was not how it happened, everyone likes kissing, she was sorry, Peri started it, it was such fun, no one was hurt, no one ever told her kissing was bad, Sweetberry had dared her, she was so ashamed, Baelon used to kiss Alyssa all the time, once she started she did not know how to stop, she was afraid of Stinger, the Mother Above had forgiven her, all the girls were doing it, the first time she was drunk, she had never wanted to, it was what men wanted, Maegelle said the gods forgave all sins, Jonah said he loved her, the gods had made her pretty, it was not her fault, she would be good from now on, it will be as if it never happened, she would marry Red Roy Connington, they had to forgive her, she would never kiss a man again or do any of those other things, it wasn’t her who was with child, she was their daughter, she was their little girl, she was a princess, if she were queen she would do as she liked, why wouldn’t they believe her, they never loved her, she hated them, they could whip her if they wanted but she would never be their slave. She took my breath away, this girl. There was never a mummer in all the land who gave such a performance, but by the end she was exhausted and afraid, and her mask slipped.”

What does Jaehaerys ask after all of this? “Have you given any of these boys your maidenhead?” Her response:

“True?” said Saera. It was in that moment, with that word, that the contempt came out. “No. I gave it to all three. They all think they were the first. Boys are such silly fools.”

Now mind you, Alyssa and Daella have both died of childbirth recently and her parents are mad she had sex as a 16 year old bordering on 17 year old, and not the fact that she like, at best peer pressured her besties into having sex and now one of them is pregnant. jaehaerys has only asked if she’s still a virgin.

“I will be married,” the princess said. “Why shouldn’t I be? You were married at my age. I shall be wedded and bedded, but to whom? Jonah and Roy both love me, I could take one of them, but they are both such boys. Stinger does not love me, but he makes me laugh and sometimes makes me scream. I could marry all three of them, why not? Why should I have just one husband? The Conqueror had two wives, and Maegor had six or eight.”

i keep trying not to give my opinion and just lay it all out but the thing is i’d just be reposting the whole scene because it’s just filled with so much weird sex stuff. if you don’t remember it, go reread it. it doesn’t feel (to me) like regular “george is bad at writing sex” vibes but “george is purposefully trying to skeeve you out” vibes but i am willing to admit i could be wrong and he really just doesn’t understand what he wrote.

anyways remember how i said saera acts out to get attention from her parents? all she’s done here is act out, her “crimes” are basically nonexistent; beyond how alys feels about being pregnant, saera consensually had sex with boys around her age who aren’t married, and then blithely compared herself to some asshole relatives. if your teenager idolizes dick cheney that’s probably worrying but not a crime! this is not how jae treats it however.

When the princess heard his words, she rushed toward him, crying, “Father, Father!” but Jaehaerys turned his back on her, and Gyles Morrigen caught her by the arm and wrenched her away. She would not go of her own accord, so the guards were forced to drag her from the hall, wailing and sobbing and calling for her father.

The king was angry and unyielding, for his shame was deeply felt, and he could not forget Saera’s taunting words about his uncle’s wives. “She is no longer my daughter,” he said more than once. Queen Alysanne could not find it in her heart to be so harsh, however. “

saera tries to escape.

This time the princess was not allowed to return to her own chambers. She was confined to a tower cell instead, with Jonquil Darke guarding her day and night, even in the privy.

Princess Saera watched from the window of her cell. Jonquil Darke, her gaoler, made certain that she did not turn away.

that’s as her dad is murdering stinger btw. is he a creepy 19 year old? yeah. but like, making your 15 year old watch you murder her 19 year old trust fund baby stoner boyfriend sure is something.

so then they sent her to the silent sisters where she’s beaten all the time and has to pray all the time and she runs away, becomes a sex worker and literally never looks back.

The truth did not come out until a year later, when the former princess was seen in a Lysene pleasure garden, still clad as a novice. Queen Alysanne wept to hear it. “They have made our daughter into a whore,” she said. “She always was,” the king replied.

“You need her as a Dornishman needs a pit viper,” Jaehaerys said. “I am sorry. King’s Landing has sufficient whores. I do not wish to hear her name again.”

but before we move on, let’s look at one more related ick, when saera’s sons show up to the great council:

From Essos came three rival competitors, grandsons of King Jaehaerys through his daughter Saera, each sired by a different father. One was said to be the very image of his grandsire in his youth.

after her drinking, acting out, and jaehaerys’ focus on calling her a whore, explicitly pointing out that one of her grandsons looks just like jae is a choice. i know they’re super inbred. it’s still uncomfortable in context.

viserra targaryen

alysanne makes no sense here but i’m just gonna quickly explain instead of lay it out or we will be here all day bc viserra’s engagement is completely nonsensical. theomore manderly is old, ugly, has a shitton of heirs, and viserra clearly doesn’t want to marry him. also if she wanted to be queen, why is she going after baelon, aemon is still alive. anyways jaehaerys is no help here, then she goes to baelon for help, but she’s also super drunk.

Frustrated, Viserra next turned to her brother Baelon in hopes of rescue, if court gossip can be believed. Slipping past his guards into his bedchamber one night, she disrobed and waited for him, making free with the prince’s wine whilst she lingered. When Prince Baelon finally appeared, he found her drunk and naked in his bed and sent her on her way. The princess was so unsteady that she required the help of two maids and a knight of the Kingsguard to get her safely back to her own apartments.

she gets drunk with some friends again, goes riding, breaks her neck. i wanted to point out this pattern of drinking and acting out at a young age. as well as this pattern of targaryen daughters who aren’t “meant” for a brother and are promised to men who are old and with heirs

daella targaryen

i wanted to add daella because her getting married at 15 makes as little sense as viserra, and her match to a old man with several heirs is equally nonsensical. but also this:

“I would never marry her,” the boy said, in front of half the court. “She can barely read. She should find some lord in need of stupid children, for that’s the only sort he will ever have of her.”

where did vaegon get that mouth.

Daella was not clever, even her septa had to admit. She learned to read after a fashion, but haltingly, and without full comprehension. She could not seem to commit even the simplest prayers to memory. She had a sweet voice, but was afraid to sing; she always got the words wrong. She loved flowers, but was frightened of gardens; a bee had almost stung her once.

Jaehaerys, even more than Alysanne, despaired of her. “She will not even speak to a boy. How is she to marry? We could entrust her to the Faith, but she does not know her prayers, and her septa says that she cries when asked to read aloud from The Seven-Pointed Star.”

The queen always rose to her defense. “Daella is sweet and kind and gentle. She has such a tender heart. Give me time, and I will find a lord to cherish her. Not every Targaryen needs to wield a sword and ride a dragon.”

so daella is 12 at this point.

Her sixteenth nameday was fast approaching, and with it her womanhood. Queen Alysanne was at her wit’s end, and the king had lost his patience. On the first day of the 80th year since Aegon’s Conquest, he told the queen he wanted Daella wed before the year’s end. “If she wants I can find a hundred men and line them up before her naked, and she can pick the one she likes,” he said. “I would sooner she wed a lord, but if she prefers a hedge knight or a merchant or Pate the Pig Boy, I am past the point of caring, so long as she picks someone.”

i just don’t like this. other “simple” targs are not required to marry, like vaella and aelora, two of daeron ii’s grandfaughters so i don’t get why daella is pressured into marrying before she’s even of age. at least jae 2 forced rhaella and aerys because of a prophecy? what is jae’s reasoning for so sexualizing his daughter?

gael targaryen

this one is definitely a reach but i’d like to point out that this is basically all we know about gael:

Princess Gael, a sweet, shy child of seven, became the queen’s constant shadow and support, even sharing her bed at night.

and our information on how she dies is so shady:

A sweet-natured girl, but frail and somewhat simpleminded, she remained with the queen long after her other children had grown and gone, but in 99 AC she vanished from court, and soon afterward it was announced that she had died of a summer fever. Only after both her parents were gone did the true tale come out. Seduced and abandoned by a traveling singer, the princess had given birth to a stillborn son, then, overwhelmed by grief, walked into the waters of Blackwater Bay and drowned.

how does gael get pregnant by a traveling singer when she never leaves her mother’s side? why doesn’t anyone in court know gael got pregnant and killed herself until after aly and jae both die and how was this even found out?

am i implying that jaehaerys sexually abused all four of his daughters? yes because he literally sexually abuses his own wife.

alysanne targaryen

“I am forty-two years old,” she told the king. “You must be content with the children I have given you. I am more suited to be a grandmother than a mother now, I fear.”

King Jaehaerys did not share her certainty. “Our mother, Queen Alyssa, was forty-six when she gave birth to Jocelyn,” he pointed out to Grand Maester Elysar. “The gods may not be done with us.” He was not wrong. The very next year, the Grand Maester informed Queen Alysanne that she was once more with child, to her surprise and dismay.

he uses the birth that killed their mother and that is condemned by rhaena and alysanne as reckless and cruel of rogar to force on her. that birth.

at this point as well, he had abused saera and daella, then they’re gone, then viserra starts drinking and dies, then jae marital rapes aly into having gael, giving him access to another young girl to abuse…i’m aware this is a very uncharitable reading of him but…

alicent hightower (and kind of alyssa targaryen)

Ser Otto’s precocious fifteen-year-old daughter, Alicent, became his constant companion, fetching His Grace his meals, reading to him, helping him to bathe and dress himself. The Old King sometimes mistook her for one of his daughters, calling her by their names; near the end, he grew certain she was his daughter Saera, returned to him from beyond the narrow sea.

saera is the one he fixated on yet again but notable that he’s fixated on his daughters as he dies and not his sons, despite jaehaerys turning to drink after aemon died bc he was so upset.

He announced his intention to wed Lady Alicent of House Hightower, the clever and lovely eighteen-year-old daughter of the King’s Hand, the girl who had read to King Jaehaerys as he lay dying.

The Hightowers of Oldtown were an ancient and noble family, of impeccable lineage; there could be no possible objection to the king’s choice of bride. Even so, there were those who murmured that the Hand had risen above himself, that he had brought his daughter to court with this in mind. A few even cast doubt on Lady Alicent’s virtue, suggesting she had welcomed King Viserys into her bed even before Queen Aemma’s death. (These calumnies were never proved, though Mushroom repeats them in his Testimony and goes so far as to claim that reading was not the only service Lady Alicent performed for the Old King in his bedchamber.)

i know it’s just mushroom being a perv but a rumor that 15 year old alicent “serviced” jaehaerys existing besides rumors that he mistook 15 year old alicent for the daughter he last saw when she was 17 - and viserra was 15, gael 19, and daella 15, all around alicent’s age and all died before age 20. all the targaryen girls that weren’t born “for” a brother exit the narrative after some sort of sexual abuse that centers around jae, as teenagers; daenerys was born for aemon, alyssa for baelon, and maegelle for vaegon before they both fucked off and maegelle was too pious (and too old). this idea of being “for” a brother leads directly to alyssa’s death before 30:

“You were made for battles, and I was made for this. Viserys and Daemon and Aegon, that’s three. As soon as I am well, let’s make another. I want to give you twenty sons. An army of your own!” It was not to be. Alyssa Targaryen had a warrior’s heart in a woman’s body, and her strength failed her. She never fully recovered from Aegon’s birth, and died within the year at only four-and-twenty.

and alysanne being “for” jaehaerys is how he excusing sexually abusing her into a risky pregnancy. essentially what i fear is that because saera, daella, viserra, and gael aren’t “for” someone, jaehaerys gets it into his mind that that are for him. even without him raping them tho, that subtext is there! he is entitled to saera’s virginity and calls her a whore multiple times, even decades after she’s left, and murders her boyfriend in front of her. he claims a weird sexual ownership over his neurodivergent daughter daella and his alcoholic, depressed daughter viserra, and we get zero information on gael’s pregnancy or his reaction to it. but jaehaerys deciding his daughters are “for” him certainly has a basis in canon just judging from the erratic and worrying behavior of his younger daughters.

jaehaerys is a creep and i hate him and i don’t know how much of this is on purpose (like, will aegon vi or dany find out jaehaerys was a shady pedo and it shatters their world? will dunk and egg find it out and it affects their plot somehow? did george just put it in there to make a comment on power and monarchy and misogyny, similar to aegon iv raping the bracken women? or is just there for window dressing creepiness, like “i will pepper in the fact that jaehaerys is sexually obsessed with his daughters” thing?) or if george just made jaehaerys sexually obsessed with his daughters on accident?

on the one hand, it seems out of character for george. he romanticizes drogo thru dany’s eyes but it’s clear he’s meant to be seen as a creep (dany talking about being pregnant followed by “she had just turned 14” is sickeningly jarring for a reason) and also, drogo dies bc of his own pride. sansa doesn’t like any of the old dudes touching her; she is at least marginally freaked out by her wedding night, the unkiss, and lf & dontos taking liberties with her, and rightly. the story that’s told about the mountain raping a girl and making the father pay him is meant to disgust us. the walk of shame is a harrowing chapter to read, because whatever cersei’s crimes, this sexual humiliation is not something she deserves. on and on. yes, we all hate the way arya is sexualized in the mercy chapter, but crucially, she’s not blithely and happily seducing these pervs, she’s going hard candy on their asses. is this just messy set up for something like that?? i think, given how little dany knows about her family’s crimes that somehow learning jae sexually abused (and maybe even impregnated) his own daughters after she herself experiences sexual abuse would be huge. the same goes for aegon vi learning that sexual abuse runs rampant in his family tree; would he empathize with saera hiding out in essos to escape the sexual abuse of her father, see some of elia and his own plight in her? in gael?

or did george really just. not realize how sexually obsessed jaehaerys was with his daughters?

idk how to end this. where’s the winds of winter george i need answers.

#anti jaehaerys targaryen #anti fire and blood #valyrianscrolls #saera targaryen #viserra targaryen #gael targaryen #debated the vs tag bc i know it’s probably gonna annoy some people but. i do actually wonder if this will be a plot point in the books #or if it was an accident #rani attempts meta #gael and the bard #saehaerys

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anitalenia · 10 months

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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 ₊˚⊹♡

⋆˙⟡♡ SYNOPSIS ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦. ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛… 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡. 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹ the beginning of how it started. a part detailing how Batman initially treated you and handled the relationship.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹ how Batman fell in love with you and all the things that happened leading up to it. all the signs and actions that made him love you.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹ how Batman handled the reality of being in love with you and all the things he did to try and hide from it. better yet, his confession.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹ yours and Bruce’s relationship and how he was with you. some relationship headcanons for fun.

⋆˙⟡♡ PAIRING ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ battinson x fem!reader

⋆˙⟡♡ CONTENT INCLUDES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ mentions of sex, mentions of fighting and threatening, rough kissing, mentions of sad!Bruce / undertones of depression, mentions of alcohol & insomnia, bad words, sweet kisses, tears, hair pulling, love confessions, not really a whole lot of sexiness just headcanons mostly

⋆˙⟡♡ WARNINGS ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ mature content, emotionally tortured Bruce Wayne, maybe not my best story telling :(, mentions of blood and fighting cuz this is Batman, alcoholism

⋆˙⟡♡ AUTHORS NOTE ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ thanks to @diavolosbaby for requesting this!! Hope you enjoy and it lives up to your standards 🩷

OTHER LINKS ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓷 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ He told you what this was before he even started it. Told you this was strictly business, no feelings involved; you knew who he was during a chance encounter and you were the only one he could really come to after that. It was simple, straight forward; you needed his dick and he needed your pussy.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce came to you a lot, which was a little odd compared to how you perceived him to be. You thought he was a very busy man, always fighting crime or hiding away in his mansion, always too busy to bother with someone as unimportant as you. But no, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was there at least three times a week, standing by your window in that black suit of his with his cape blowing with the wind, waiting for you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always quiet, head filled with whatever torturous pain lingered in the shadows of his mind, brimming with the secrets he never told you and you never asked for. He never spoke, unless it was a command spoken in a gentle gruffness. He never smiled, tried not to grunt or make too much noise, but some nights he couldn’t contain himself and the sounds just escaped him. Those were the nights he was particularly frustrated.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never let you take off his mask at first, he’d leave it on and you were left grasping at leather and air. He didn’t like affection, having you touch his scars and his body, it was too vulnerable, too intimate, for his liking. So, naturally, he didn’t stay to cuddle afterwards. The business was over, your job was done, he’d slip out the window as you’d bask in the aftershocks.

⋆˙⟡♡ His heart was cold but his body was warm, always warm. He was like a furnace when he’d be flat against you, fucking into you with his head in your neck and his hands gripping your jaw, your waist, your thighs. You’d always get so hot, craving his warmth like a bug to a bonfire.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never bothered to ask you anything about yourself, but you had a suspicion he had to have done some research on you during those long lonely days in the darkness of his home. He was too cautious not to, too curious. And he did. He found out everything about you but didn’t share a single detail about himself. He was Bruce Wayne, rich son whose parents died by day, and then Batman, vengeance personified by night. That’s all you needed to know.

⋆˙⟡♡ Batman only came to you in the middle of the night, sometimes bloody and beaten, your fingers running over tender bruises that would make him grimace. A part of him liked the pain, figured he deserved it. Sometimes you worried for him on the nights he was particularly beaten up, but he didn’t give you time to ask questions before he was shoving you against your dresser and pressing himself against you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t like being in the light, being too seen. He liked it with all the lights off, your room glowing with the dim light of the moon and the streetlights, your face pressed into his neck or shoved into a pillow so you couldn’t look at him.

⋆˙⟡♡ In the beginning, he liked it when you just submitted to him; he mostly cared about his own pleasure at first as he told you what this was, why he was doing this. That didn’t stop him from making sure you came at least once though. He couldn’t help it, didn’t want you to feel completely used.

⋆˙⟡♡ You noticed he always had this way about him when he touched you, almost like he yearned to hold you closer but knew he shouldn’t. His hands were rough, long fingers and hot palms, lingering on your skin before he’d move them away, never touching one place too long before he’d move on. It was almost a tease.

⋆˙⟡♡ He spied on you, a lot actually, would watch you from his spot on a roof top, stare at you through your big office window. He didn’t know why, just bored and curious, he always told himself. He’d see you stress yourself out, fill out paper after paper while your boss did nothing but throw more at you. You took it anyway and Bruce was confused by why. But he never asked, didn’t want to make a connection with you and risk losing you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He remembered sneaking into your house, waiting for you, but you were late coming home from work and he wasn’t sure if he should leave or not. He felt wrong about it, but he looked through your photos and your notebooks, saw a glimpse into your real life outside of him and work and he quickly put everything back the way it was and left. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to see you as anything different than what he already did.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would lie to Alfred about where he was going at night, why he would be so late coming home. But Alfred knew he was lying, he wasn’t sure about what exactly, but Alfred knew Bruce would come to him in time.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce tried hard to keep his and yours personal lives outside of your mutual situation, he really did. He didn’t want to know you, hear you talk about your problems and your dreams and fears and learn what made you you, from your own words. He was alone and knew he was meant to be alone, planned on being alone forever. Being with him would only put you in danger, a bigger target on his back he didn’t need. It was for your own protection, for the sake of both your lives and both your hearts.

⋆˙⟡♡ He vowed to himself to keep it that way, strictly professional, a hobby almost. He really didn’t plan to fall in love, he really really didn’t…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Your living room was dark when you came home from work, later than usual because of your infuriating boss; he was lazy, relied on his employees to do his work while he sat in his office and ate his donuts. You hated him, loathed him, absolutely couldn’t stand him, but you understood he was just another obstacle, a milestone you needed to get through before you reached where you needed to be. So, you didn’t make a fuss, you didn’t complain, didn’t speak up. You did what you were supposed to as you were supposed to do it, just another hamster circling the wheel of business over and over until you finally got the balls to break the cycle.

Unfortunately, your ambition was almost too much for you sometimes, tonight was evidence enough.

You set your keys in the ceramic bowl by the door with a tired sigh, soft rain pattering on your windows, furniture lit up with a dim orange glow from the street lamps outside. All twisting shadows and rain drops. Your nose tickled with the scent of vanilla bean and raspberry, remembering the candle you had forgotten to blow out before you left. Oops.

Your hair was damp, gray suit littered in dark spots from the rain outside. Your limbs were sore and heavy, eyes burning and fluttering for a semblance of rest. Your heels were sore from the heels you’ve been prancing around in all day, your whole body exhausted in general. This was normal for you though, you always came home lagged and tired. You regretted being such a hard worker, but knew it would ultimately pay off in the future.

You walked to your bedroom, your heels clacking on the floor unevenly, dragging on the wooden boards as you navigated your way through the darkness. You held your purse loosely in your left hand, a shiver crawling up your spine as an unexpected gust of coolness swept up your legs and down your neck.

Your foot stuttered, lingering by the doorway in your bedroom as the rain seemed louder, less dull, wind whistling your black bed sheets. You furrowed your eyebrows at that, knowing you left your window closed before you left. Your eyes strained to see anything in the darkness as panic blared in your chest like a fire alarm, trying to make out any figure in the shadows of your room. You slowly crept forward, preparing for the worst, your exhaustion melting into hot fear that made your bones go stiff.

You swallowed, eyes immediately going to the open window to see the empty street below, the sound of a car alarm in the distance overpowering the rain that seemed to just pound harder. Your window was wide open, sheer purple curtains flapping from the breeze like a set of violet wings. Your eyes narrowed at that, hearing nothing but buzzing silence ringing in your ears. Then, it just hit you.

You couldn’t describe it exactly, but you felt a sensation of calmness wash over you as you let out a hefty breath, fear gradually melting away as your body relaxed and hands unclenched. It was like your body knew it wasn’t in any real danger, that there was nothing lurking in the shadows besides what was supposed to be. This was all too familiar to you; a setting you’ve come home to many times before. The open window, the darkness, the buzzing calm.

You felt excitement spark through you in recognition as you felt your neck tingle, a barely there whisper of a breath wash over your neck and tickle your hair.

You felt a smile quirk on your lips, turning around slowly, sucking in a sharp breath when you were met with the large bulking figure of the man in black standing just an inch away from you, a shadow hiding in shadow as he stared down at you with those black soulless eyes. He was big, a thing you liked about him, dirt encrusted on his suit and so out of place in the cozy warmth of your home. He was big and bulky, comically large for your small bedroom.

You looked back up at him, your purse dropping to the floor as instinctual arousal flooded your belly at just the mere sight of him. You couldn’t help it, your body knew what he was capable of and yearned for it. Your throat became dry, you swallowed once more as his eyes, those dark blue gems of his, looked over your face with a certain pained look in them, calculating and tortured, covered in black face paint that hid the beauty of his raw skin.

His pink lips were set in a firm frown, a faint scratch on his chin, breaths slow and even, calm. That damned mask of his covered his face, the fluffiness of his brown hair you seldom ever felt run through your finger tips. He always wore this expression, always so serious and somber like he was going through a dreadful ordeal every second he continued to live. You were always curious as to why, but knew he’d never answer, nor appreciate your nosiness.

You let your thoughts drift off, looking back up at him with a false confidence.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight…” You mumbled quietly, losing any conviction in your voice as he took a small step forward, closer to you, his heavy boot thudding on your floor. You took a small step back, crumbling under him way too easily, as always. He always loved to completely invade your space, but never let you do the same to him.

You looked up at him, he looked down at you, breaths mingling together as a dark look washed over his oceanic eyes, his strong jaw clenching as he ran his eyes over your face like this was the first time he’d ever seen you. You felt your thighs tighten at the look in them, at the way he looked at you.

You were being honest though, you didn’t expect him tonight. You had seen him two nights ago, expecting not to see him for another few weeks at least.

“Shhh…” He shushed you gently, voice gravelly but gentle, tired but awake, undertones of desire.

He leaned down towards you and you found yourself holding your own arms back from wrapping around him and taking him already, just as he always took you. His gloved hands reached for the edge of the dresser behind you, trapping you between his strong arms and chest, completely invading your senses as your eyes looked into his, almost begging. His cape flowed down his shoulders and shrouded around you both until all you could see was black, the heady smell of smoke and rain tickling your nose, captivating.

He pressed himself against you, a brick wall, the mahogany’s edge digging into your lower back as your breath stuttered. You found yourself looking at his lips, his nose, his eyes, his closeness overwhelming you as you couldn’t figure out where to look, your skin feeling hot and stuffy, the confidence you had previously now a pile on the floor as your stomach twisted.

You could see the rain on his black suit, dripping down all his gear and heavy armor he wore and down to his waist, some falling to the floor in soft drips. You licked your lips, minding the mess, feeling lightheaded and fluttery as you looked back up at him with sparkling eyes.

He cocked his head at you, dark eyes running over your lips before looking back into your own, “Take your hair down.”

He always used such a gentle, tired voice, like he didn’t want to scare you and he could never find enough sleep, but the demand was obvious in his tone, eyes dark and predatory as they stared down at you intently. He didn’t need anymore command, knowing you’d do as he said just like you always did.

You didn’t dare disobey, sensing his need sizzling in the air just as strong as your shared want. You managed eye contact as you brought a hand up to the back of your head, taking out the black hair clip holding your hair together, the rain pattering on your roof almost too loud in your ears. He stared as your hair fell down your shoulders, cascading down your back in silky waves and framing your face. You swallowed, feeling the need to clear your throat as you put a hand through your hair and brushed it over your shoulder.

You saw his eyes run over your hair, the way it fell around your cheeks, his jaw clenching once more. He brought a hand up, big and heavy, running your locks through his fingers, imagining the softness of it as the sweet smell of apricot and citrus filled his nose, the signature flavor of your favorite shampoo.

You sighed at the pleasurable sensation on your scalp, head titling back as your eyes drooped, your hair clip falling to the ground noisily as you brought your hands up and grabbed his forearms. You might’ve been a little dramatic at just a few touches, but you were so needy, needy for this dangerous man you knew absolutely nothing about besides the obvious. He was a stranger in a suit, a stranger to you, but he somehow knew how to touch you better than any man you’ve ever been with.

He took note of your reaction, his own body twitching to touch you as he noticed the look in your eyes. He felt an intense need spark through him, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. He remained calm looking, but his eyes gave it all away.

Your head was yanked back, a pleasurable gasp leaving your lips as you squeezed his arms, looking up at him with your lips parted and breaths heavy. Your head stung, hair being pulled on in just the right way that had a familiar wetness pooling between your thighs, your body buzzing alive with feeling.

Bruce looked down at you, pressing the broadness of himself against you even harder, your breasts smushed against his suit, completely at his mercy. He looked down at you with an unraveled look in his eyes as he tilted your head up towards him.

He kissed you then, rough and hot, groaning into your mouth as his tongue played with yours, teeth clashing and breaths hot against each other. You couldn’t help but moan against him as he finally granted you what you’ve been wanting for so long now, scalp burning from his hold on your hair as your hands flew up and gripped at the leather of his mask, arms wrapped around his neck.

He was forceful and rough, his other hand crawling around your waist and lifting you off the ground with such ease it almost caught you off guard. You gasped into his mouth, his hand tightening on the hold in your hair as you grimaced at the pain.

You didn’t break the kiss, stuck on him as your heels fell off your feet and hit the floor. In two big strides you were suddenly lied flat on your bouncy mattress with Batman himself between your thighs, still holding your waist and head against him as he kissed you fervently.

Your skirt slid down around your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him, pressing him harder into you as all you wanted was him, him everywhere and him all over you. You moaned against him, helpless and desperate, as the ridges in his suit dug into your stomach, his lips movingly hotly against yours as he grunted against you. His cape flowed around you, thick and smooth, trapping you underneath until all you could see was blackness, unable to discern the space between his body and yours.

You knew this was going to be quick; he was too rough, too impatient and needy. It must’ve been a bad night for him, but you didn’t pry no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how much the questions bubbled in your throat and ached in your chest you knew you were in no place to ask. A part of you liked it that way, liked that this was strictly this. You liked that you didn’t have to answer to him, that you weren’t bound to him and he wasn’t to you. It was just simple, secrecy for a night of shameless lust-filled sex in return.

You both got what you wanted and that was enough. You appreciated that he didn’t go beyond that just as you didn’t. Outside of this room he was Batman, a dangerous vigilante some trusted and some hated, he was Bruce Wayne, an orphan child with more money and pain than he needed. But in the shadow of your bedroom, under the covers with you, there was no identity, no obligation, just two strangers seeking each other out in search of the one thing they both wanted, blessed with none of the other drama that followed a relationship.

With Bruce on top of you in this very moment, his hands gripping your body for no reason other than pleasure, you knew he would be gone before the night was over, and you’d be alone in your bed with bite marks and handprints on your skin to serve as a reminder of the man who gave them to you. You knew he would silently leave, slip away when he thought you were sleeping, you knew he wouldn’t talk or tell you any of his problems. He’d give you what you wanted and then slip into the shadows… you had to admit, It was the most perfect arrangement.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Batman didn’t plan on ever falling in love with you, but when he did, it had happened after a couple of months of doing what he did with you. But before he did, things had been going so well. You never intervened in his life and he never intervened in yours. Just as he expected, just as he preferred. It had been perfect, but somewhere along the way he had gotten too involved, started to trust you without even realizing it.

⋆˙⟡♡ At first, it started with him staying in your bed longer than he used to. You didn’t argue, comfortable with the heat his body gave you in the coldness of the night. He found himself dozing off after you would, your fluffy blanket soft on his skin and the mattress like a cloud for his broken body. He’d always be gone before you woke up though. You didn’t want to say anything about his little sleepovers, scared you’ll frighten him and he’ll stop. So you let him do as he pleased, enjoying his company albeit his silence.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never cuddled with you though, ever (don’t worry, he lets that slip too). Always stiff like a board on his side of the bed, expression crumbled with pain and peace. Sometimes he’d flinch, nightmares you never questioned him about but always noticed. Still, he’d wake up after about an hour, slip out your window, but not before giving you one last look, seeing how the moon shined down on your soft skin…

⋆˙⟡♡ Then, it was following you home after work, making sure you got home safe on those dark nights where it seemed like every shadow was following you. He’d be on the rooftops, claiming he was just curious and bored, cape flapping in the wind, when in reality he just needed to make sure you got home safely.

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t know, but he was watching you much more than you’d ever suspect. He watched your home on the nights Gotham was quiet, his body knowing you were so close but oh so far. He thought about you when he wasn’t thinking about you, thought about the routine he had found in you, the unfamiliar closeness, the comfort he had found between your body and your bed sheets.

⋆˙⟡♡ He started kissing you more, flinching less when your fingers would graze his back. He let you look at him, look deep into his eyes when he was inside you, have your hands touching his face and his back without the security of his suit to hide him. You loved when he did that, feeling him under your hands, skin to skin as it should be.

⋆˙⟡♡ He let you see his scars in the light, didn’t care when he took off his suit and your bathroom light was on, shining down on his body and the sculpted muscle of it. He had learned you wouldn’t judge him, but he was still hesitant, suffering inside when he looked down at the floor as you gazed at him in awe… you thought he was so beautiful.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would watch you when you worked, watch as your boss would storm in and demand more from you. Bruce didn’t like that, would clench his fist and grind his teeth when you’d get scolded like a child, told to work harder when all you did was work. He’d have to control himself when your boss would walk past him on his way home every night.

⋆˙⟡♡ He started conversing with you more, holding you against his chest when you two were done. He’d ask you profound questions as you two stared up at the ceiling, you’d tell him your answer. He didn’t talk a lot, just liked to listen. It would be intimate, almost romantic. He’d listen to what you’d have to say and he’d learn, learn more about who you were, where you came from, and he’d find himself not wanting to leave, a dull ache in his chest every time you’d fall asleep and he’d have to slip out your fire escape.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never admitted it to himself, but he started to look forward to seeing you, found comfort in your small bedroom and the absence of life’s problems that came with it. He started to enjoy the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry from those candles you always forgot to blow out before work. He started to pick up on your little quirks.

⋆˙⟡♡ While gradually falling in love with you, Bruce would deny, deny, deny. He acknowledged that he was starting to feel things he didn’t want to, and he’d be incredibly disturbed and moody, more than usual. Alfred would even be a little peeved with him.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would find himself asking you how work was. He would be concerned about the bags under your eyes and the wrinkles in your clothes, not outright concerned but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. He wanted to hear your voice.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would be very hesitant around you, scared he was doing too much when he’d touch you now. It wasn’t like before, when he would just grab and control. Now he was really touching you, trying to feel you, every dip and curve of your skin under his fingertips.

⋆˙⟡♡ He had gotten way too comfortable with you now, even he knew that. He relied on you and the comfort you gave, a feeling he’d been without for so long. He was like a cold soul lost in the woods, searching for something, anything, hollow, a warm body to bring him back. He found that with you, and he didn’t even realize it until he started to feel pain when he wasn’t around you, a pain in his chest like a knife was stabbing into his heart. He missed you but he didn’t want to…

⋆˙⟡♡ He stared at your face a lot, too intensely for your liking, thoughts behind those dark eyes of his he’d never tell you about if you confronted him about it. He just liked to look at you, watch you giggle and smile. He’d do it without realizing how intimidated it made you feel, how you’d have to blush and look away, pretend you didn’t notice. He just liked to look at you, soak in your expressions before he’d leave again.

⋆˙⟡♡ The signs were all there when you thought about it. The lingering touches, the admiring stares, the countless nights he’d watch over you. He felt like a creep, following you around so much, but he couldn’t help it. You were a pleasant distraction and he was a fool, easily succumbing to those feelings he had for you without even knowing it. They had been growing inside of him like a blooming vine… they started out small but grew into so much more, and he ignored it, until he just couldn’t take it anymore…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ It was a quiet night in September, it had been raining for days and the coolness of autumn had just started to blow into the city. The trees danced with orange and red leaves, strewn all over the road and sidewalks, getting stuck under peoples rain boots and car tires. Your window was cracked, letting a cool breeze into your room that made you shiver, the savory smell of someone’s cooking wafting into your noses from the apartments across the way. You looked at your tv, black screen shut off but reflecting the blurred forms of your mingled bodies on your bed, arm outstretched on Bruce’s stomach, head lying on his chest. You could hear his heart, slow and calm just as he always was, pumping in your ear and lulling you to sleep.

You wanted to stay awake though, listening to the sounds of cars driving in rain puddles and horns honking, the occasional laughter of a passerby. A candle was lit on your dresser across the room, with the faint scent of vanilla bean and raspberry in the air just as Bruce liked. Your legs were a little sore, thighs tender from where Bruce had gripped them so hard, lips puffy from where Bruce had kissed them so much. You felt satisfied, pleasant even, comforted by his presence, the knowledge of his identity absent in your mind as you didn’t register him as a millionaire, or as a crime fighting vigilante, you never really did.

He was neither of those things to you. He was… he was Bruce, just Bruce, your Bruce. Not Bruce Wayne or Batman, and that was enough for you. You took him as he is not as he was, never questioned him about his parents or how Batman was even created. He appreciated that, didn’t like answering questions about himself he wasn’t comfortable with. He was comfortable with silence, but he didn’t mind hearing you.

He was awake too, didn’t want to fall asleep before you, something in his mind telling him he should leave already, not sink into the mattress any further and let himself relish in your warmth. He had responsibilities, duties, people he needed to save and crime he needed to stop. It was Gotham, something was always wrong and someone always needed help. But he couldn’t think about any of that stuff around you, his thoughts always either empty or crowded with your smile.

His suit was a mess on the floor, scrambled just like his mind, bat mask clear as day in his vision, lit up in a red glimmer from the light outside. It stared at him with its blank eyes, watching, the buzzing of a neon light loud in his ears. It’s like it was mocking him, patronizing him. He frowned at it, turning his head slightly away from it, like it was a reminder of what his true purpose was, where he should really be this late other than here in your arms. He knew he should go, felt his arm twitch like he was about to get up and unwind from you.

“Don’t you have somewhere you should be? Or are you gonna stay?” You mumbled sleepily, voice so quiet and sweet he almost didn’t hear it.

His eyes drifted to you, rubbing his fingertips on your rib cage and savoring the feeling of your smooth skin underneath him, against him. You were so unblemished, unlike him. A few scratches and scars here and there that held stories and memories, none like his. His were ridged and pale, covered his skin, they held memories but none of them good. Memories that served as reminders of why this was so wrong, of who he really was and who he needed to get back to once he left these four walls.

He thought about it for a minute, frowning at the ceiling fan.

Did he have somewhere to be? Yes, yes he did. He always had somewhere to be, that was the problem. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, he could be somewhere else, but he was here instead. He was here with you, here with you. He had somewhere to be, could be anywhere else, but he was here. Everyone always expected him to be where they were, expected him to save everyone. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t save everyone and he couldn’t be everywhere they wanted him to be. He was with you but he shouldn’t be. Guilt settled in his gut as he swallowed, hands itching like it was wrong to touch you.

His eyes, dark and somber like storm clouds, especially just as captivating, looked over your frazzled hair like he could see your face, knowing how exhausted you must’ve been from work and sex, how it was so late already and how you’d have to leave so early. Your breathing was slow and even, warm breath brushing over his chest from your parted pink lips, all cues of how you’ve already fallen asleep. He thought about your question, yes, yes he had somewhere he needed to be, he always did.

He didn’t bother speaking, just turned his head back and looked at the ceiling as his arm held you just a little tighter against him, hearing the splash of a car racing through water from somewhere outside.

He’ll stay for a little while.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ When he realized he was in love with you he left, he left for a long time. He refused to let those feelings blossom into anything more, grow into something more… dangerous. Love was dangerous, he was dangerous. He isolated himself from you, in a worse mood than usual. Alfred had picked up on it, knowing there was more going on than Bruce wanted to say. You couldn’t help the disappointment as the days turned into weeks, weeks of hope being crushed on with every night he wasn’t there.

⋆˙⟡♡ He told himself it was for the best, heartbreak was something you could heal from, death was something you’d never come back from. With his life, you would die. He couldn’t lose anyone else, he couldn’t. He couldn’t subject you to that same fate his parents had.

⋆˙⟡♡ Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you when you’d walk home, still sitting outside your job, your home, watching you from a distance to make sure you’d be alright. He couldn’t sleep if he didn’t.

⋆˙⟡♡ He couldn’t sleep anyway. Eyes a dark purple and the ache in his chest getting so much worse. It was because of you he couldn’t sleep, bed empty and cold without you, mattress hard and firm unlike yours. His nightmares consisted of your death and his inability to save you. He was better off seeing nothing with his eyes open than your blood with his eyes closed.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alfred was concerned. Confronted his Master Bruce during breakfast when Bruce was silent and gloomy. Yes, Alfred knew he would confess eventually, just needed a little shove. “I can’t stop thinking about her, Alfred.”

⋆˙⟡♡ You couldn’t stop thinking about him either… work was slow and long, your thoughts muddled together as you couldn’t stop racking your brain for a reason, any reason, as to why, why he left. Did you do something wrong?

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t want to say you missed him, you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. You felt almost stupid, like he had used you and discarded you, but wasn’t that the whole point? You were a mess, confused and feeling a different kind of lonely only a sad heart could bring you. You felt abandoned.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would hide up in his room and think, read books but not pay attention to the words. Alfred would bring him his tea and advice whenever he could, but it seemed nothing could cheer him up. Bruce felt a different kind of loneliness now than he had his whole life. When his parents died they were taken away from him, he didn’t choose to give them up like he did you. He felt like he had lost yet another person.

⋆˙⟡♡ He really thought about moving on from you, a part of him arguing thats what was best for you. But the thought of fully giving you up to anybody else angered him. You weren’t his but you’d always been in some way, his. He yearned to be near you again, an itch in the back of his mind only you could scratch.

⋆˙⟡♡ He drunk, a lot. Spent his free time as Bruce Wayne drowning in whiskey and scotch, heavy liquor bottles empty and discarded on the floor. He almost felt like crying, but he’d just pass out on his bed, too drunk to crawl under the covers. Sometimes he’d pass out in the common room, leg hanging off the couch and hair unraveled, Alfred cleaning up the mess and putting a blanket over him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He drowned himself in his work to distract from you. He was frustrated, angry, weeks having gone by without you having set him on edge. He was beating petty criminals to a bloody pulp, sending them to Gordon barely conscious. He needed to take his anger out on something, anything. Alfred would just sigh when a bloody Bruce would storm past him, ensuring his suit was cleaned before the next day.

⋆˙⟡♡ It was a late Friday night when Bruce let his anger take control of him. It was some petty thief thinking he’d run off with the bags of cash he’d stolen. Bruce didn’t let him speak, anger taking over him like thick ropes of lava in his blood, anger that had festered in his black heart for weeks, simmering under his skin waiting for the moment it could boil over.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was bloody and dirty when he came to you in a blur of anger and love, adrenaline running through him with a determination boiling in his bones.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ It was a dark cloudy night when you saw Bruce standing outside your window; you lay in bed, cozy and under the covers, bathed in the dim golden light of your lamp. You were pretending to read a book you’ve meant to finish with a frown on your face, mind full of memories and the fruitless desire to have it all back. It was a melancholic pain that throbbed under your skin, sharp and persistent like a plant rash, the memory of forgotten things plaguing your mind and wishing it could just all go back to the way it was.

You almost didn’t see him if it wasn’t for the thud on your fire escape; you jumped and the book flew to the floor with a thud. Your eyes widened and you felt a wave of excitement and relief flourish through your veins as you scrambled off your bed. You couldn’t believe it, heart pounding as you rushed over to your window and swung it open like an eager baker opening an oven door. It was a big window, one with a giant view of the street below and the park across the ways, big enough to fit a grown man in a heavy suit.

Your hands were almost frantic, eyes wide in disbelief to just see him standing there in all his glory, back to you like he used to be all those weeks ago before he left, left you, left you behind. The memory of his loss and betrayal flashed back like a pull to reality, all those sad feelings you pushed away coming full frontal in your head like a tidal wave in your fragile brain.

Bruce’s heavy stare burned through you and it was like you could feel it on your skin, like a million microscopic bugs crawling all over you, your body buzzing with electricity and your hands almost shaking. You felt a flurry of difficult emotions coursing through you that all muddled together in one big mess in your head; anger and happiness, relief and irritation. You couldn’t pinpoint on one, feeling everything all at once when you opened your window and Batman was stood on the other side of you in all his threatening grandness.

You hated that he looked so good despite the grime.

You were left stunned as all you could do was stare at him. This was a moment you’ve only dreamt about, wished for for days and countless weeks, fantasized about for hours on end. How you would react, what you would say, how it would all go… and especially how he’d apologize on hand and knee for you, atone for his sins and plead for your pardon. It was all meticulously planned and carefully thought out, and now here it was, the moment you’ve been waiting for for so long; it was finally here, staring at you in the face. And it was so funny how all those ideas and all that confidence you had just seemed to vanish now that it was time to confront them; you were frozen as you stared back at him, unsure of what to do next and too tongue tied to formulate a thought. All that planning, pointless in the face of its precipitant.

Bruce stared back at you longingly and painfully, breaths hard and heavy and knuckles bruised and sore. His eyes were smeared in that black paint he always used, thick with an unspoken emotional torture, like he was being tormented in his own mind at the mere sight of you. He was in a way; you were his reminder of why he left, the catalyst of his destruction but at the same time his anecdote. It was all very confusing and contradictory; all he could understand was that it pained him to look at you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away.

Blood was splattered over his cheeks and suit, his heart pumping in his ears as he looked you over, putting all the pieces of you back in his mind; from your face, to your pink pajamas, to the black socks on your feet, then back to your cautious eyes. You were all right, you were okay and he was so relieved. He felt a weight drop from his chest, knowing you were in no certain danger but he always worried for you if he couldn’t see you, a consequence of everyone he cared for always getting hurt some way or another. Bruce felt what he could only describe as happiness, a feeling he only got with you, hit him full on like a train, smacking into his heart as his throat closed up.

He had missed you.

He had missed you a lot, more than he ever wanted to admit, but he would gladly do so for you. He had missed your pretty eyes and sweet voice, soft hands and smooth skin, and your voice, calming and rich like honeyed pastries. You were beautiful to him, so beautiful, and he couldn’t believe he had shown up here once more, that he would risk ever putting it in danger. But he had to come, he couldn’t take it anymore… and if his love for you was that perilous then his soul be damned.

He noticed the subtle way your face crumbled as your initial excitement died down, settled into pain and sadness and concern; your eyes running over the blood on him, wondering if it was his, really looking at him and realizing that he was really here, back on your fire escape. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here he was and he didn’t plan on leaving, not unless you ordered him to. You were nervous, eager to touch him, feel the suit under your palms like you used to, but you were also too stubborn to welcome him back into your home so easily, hurt once and not wanting to be hurt again. He understood that notion all too well.

Bruce felt an unfamiliar form of courage jolting through him, a type of courage so different from the one he used to fight criminals every night. This was a type of boldness that made him just want to grab your face and kiss you, hard, make up for all the lost time between you and spill all his confessions in the space between his lips and yours, make you taste the apology on his tongue. All he wanted was to be here again, here in your room; his nose was already filling up with the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry, his muscles relaxing instinctively at the sweet smell of it, knowing he was safe here. He wanted so badly to be here again, but now that he was he didn’t know what to do.

Bruce admitted that he was a little disappointed at your reaction to him, that you didn’t welcome him back in with open arms and gleeful smiles, kiss him and hug him and show him how much you missed him. But he knew that was too optimistic. He knew your antipathy was to be expected; he could only imagine the amount of hurt he’d put you through if it was anything compared to his own. He could only imagine how many nights you came home hoping he was there, waiting for you like he always did, how many days you kept looking at the clock, wishing it would hurry up and you could just go home already, how many days you hoped it would be different from the one before, how much hope he must’ve killed.

He felt horrible, regret and guilt spinning in his stomach as his muscles twitched, itching to touch you again; you were a drug coursing through his veins, and after two months of withdrawal he could say he was positively hooked once more. But, he knew he couldn’t just grab whatever part of you he liked like a greedy child in a toy store. He needed patience, he needed to wait for you to warm up to him on your own terms, no matter how long that took.

So, Bruce just stood on your fire escape with his hands holding the frame of the wall, blood and vanilla heavy on his nose as he stared at you, breathing hard but calm, waiting for you to make a move, any move or semblance of invitation.

Your eyes ran over the blood on him, the awkward silence deafening with all the unspoken words and yearning you both wanted so badly to address. Your eyes narrowed at the red spots and stripes on his suit and face, dripping off his gloves, worry shooting through your buzzing veins. You took a step back away from him in discontent, curious as to why he has suddenly appeared after so long away, eyes looking him over like the situation has really dawned on you. It had been weeks, two months even, since you’ve seen him, seen his black eyes and pointed ears, seen the vague Batman symbol on the chest piece of his suit.

Memories were coming back wave after wave at the sight of him, ones that wanted you to embrace him, ones that were gradually persuading you to give up this act and just be thankful he was here again, back to you. But you knew better than that, knew better than to just simply overlook a mistake as monumental as the one he made. You needed to have some damn pride.

Despite that…

Were you happy to see him? Yes, yes you really really were. You wanted him to just take off his mask and kiss you already, hell, you didn’t care if he left it on because you just wanted him to kiss you again. You wanted to feel his big arms around you once more and feel his warm palms on the dip in your back. Have him lift you up and smile into his kiss and say those magical words you yearned to hear. You could try to act tough all you wanted but at the end of the day you were still just a girl, a sad girl who wanted to be held by the man she missed so much… but your anger was still so present, lingering cold in your veins and greatly overpowering any positive emotions you had.

You wanted a damn good reason for why he did what he did.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? I thought you had moved on.” You licked your dry lips, crossing your arms and glaring at him with distaste and a false sense of confidence, a faux act of strength and apathy to cover up the real pain you felt. Your tone was anything but friendly, standoffish and disinterested, conveying the anger you felt almost perfectly; if it wasn’t for the waver in your voice and the glimmer in your eye you would even believe yourself.

You frowned at him, a cruel part of you hoping he was feeling any kind of hurt, any kind of hurt like the hurt you’ve felt. But at the same time, you just wanted so badly to hear that he came back for one reason and one reason alone. You. You wanted to hear him say that he missed you dearly, that he was so sorry for what he did and that he’d never do it again. If you heard that, then maybe, just maybe, you’d forgive him. No, you definitely would.

Bruce almost flinched at your tone, but knew it was well deserved. He looked at you with guilty eyes, like he’d committed the most heinous crime (which in his mind, he did), frown deep on his lips where a cut was on his skin, swallowing down the nerves in his throat at the look in your eyes.

A string of fear curled in his chest and made him nervous, made Batman nervous, a fear of being rejected, of him telling you how he really felt and you not reciprocating it. He couldn’t bear it, the uncertainty. But he was also afraid of hurting you any more than he already has, arguing with himself that he shouldn’t have come. But he was already here and he couldn’t leave now, couldn’t disappoint you any more than he already has. He looked up at you, his chest fluttering when he looked into your eyes.

“‘Could never move on from you…” Bruce grumbled in that deep voice of his, sounding pained and earnest and genuine, pulling at your heart like a trained harpist and making your eyes burn with brimming tears. He meant it, meant it more than you knew, staring at you with so much emotion in his eyes it almost scared you to see it; it was so unlike him to be so emotional, a part of you grateful that he trusted you enough to show it.

You felt a tingle on your skin when you looked back at him, a spark of joy peeking through the dark clouds around you. I could never move on from you…

Bruce’s dark eyes flickered between yours, gauging your reactions, intense and brooding as they always were. They bore into you like he was laying your soul bare in front of him, seeing deeper inside of you than you thought was possible. It made you feel flustered and agitated at being examined so fiercely. His voice, my god his voice, so soft but so gravelly, made you flustered, especially hearing it again after so many weeks of going without it. It washed over your skin like a warm blanket and made goosebumps pop up on your arms, a chill going through your spine that made your heart spike. You were trying so hard to fight it, fight that feeling inside of you that wanted him so badly.

You almost scoffed at his proclamation, looking at him offended, almost too theatrically, too rehearsed.

“Well it seems like you did, so.” You shrugged stubbornly, not knowing what else to say, really, not wanting to speak too much or else you’re afraid he’d hear the longing stutter in your voice. You shook your head incredulously and looked at the wall besides the window, where he stood outside in the cold air still. Secretly, you wanted to bring him inside already, bring him between your arms and hold him against your chest until he was one with you, unable to leave and bound to you forever, souls entwined and breaths shared. That may be a tad dramatic, but that’s what you felt; you knew he needed to cross that barrier on his own… you also knew that the moment he stepped back into your sacred space, the moment his heavy black boot stepped onto your wooden floor, you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure anymore, and you’d collapse in his arms like a dying bride.

Obviously, that couldn’t happen. You needed resistance, strength, a reason.

You couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see the tears welling in your eyes and the vulnerability staining your face. It was too embarrassing and too real; you didn’t want Bruce to see how easily you got worked up because of him. You didn’t want him to see all of you just yet, wanted him to feel guilty for what he did to you. He hadn’t even said much, just a single sentence, and you were already a desperate mess hiding under a false security. It was always so easy for him to get to you and you wished you were stronger for it.

Bruce knit his eyebrows at that, subtly shaking his head with a frown as his eyes still searched for yours. He wanted you to look at him, to see the honesty in his words and the sincerity in his blue eyes. He wanted you to see that he was hurting too, just as much as you.

“I didn’t… I just needed some time away… I needed to think.” He confessed vaguely, his voice gentle like he didn’t want to spook you, quiet but just loud enough for you to hear. Bruce always treated you like you were so fragile, a slippery glass vase between his clumsy hands. He never wanted to drop you, hurt you and watch you crumble into a million pieces… but he already did, and now he was trying to glue them all back together, put you back together, but only if you’d let him.

That was something you had come to appreciate about him; his gentleness, so opposite of the image he represented, what everyone believed him to be. He wasn’t just Batman, vengeful and harsh and dangerous. He wasn’t just bloody fists and sharp edges. He was incredibly genuine and tender, complex and multilayered; he was more than the bat, the symbol, the orphan, the millionaire. He was intricately sewn together with all different threads, and over the course of the year you and Bruce shared together you’ve managed to pluck and pull them all, see the warm center inside his cold shell.

Those were sides of him only you got to see, only you got to witness, only you got the privilege to marvel at and cherish. It might have been foolish to think, and you certainly think so now, but you had thought that made you special, that you were the only one he trusted enough, cared for enough, to show that side to… that there was more affection sizzling between you than you both wanted to say… but that just made it hurt so much more when he left, it just convinced you that you were too gullible for love, too naive to tell the difference between love and infatuation. When he left, he made you feel stupid.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, your face twisting into an anger Bruce didn’t want to see. Your eyes flashed to him immediately, burning and piercing and blazing, his words bouncing around in your head like a twisted game of racquetball. To think? He left, for months, because he needed to think? It sounded so phony, a simple excuse to disguise the truth, a simple excuse that only angered your unspoken pain.

“To think? To think about what? You’ve been gone for weeks, Bruce! You just left, didn’t tell me anything, didn’t tell me why, but now you’re telling me it’s because you had to think? That sounds ridiculous. I think I deserve a better explanation than, you had to think.” You mocked him, scoffing in his face. You were frustrated and lonely, wanting, deserving, a better reason to justify the pain you went through when he left. You couldn’t believe he couldn’t at least grant you that, a credible reason why.

Bruce grimaced, eyes closing like the sting of your words had just stung him. He slouched, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get the words out that he wanted to. They were stuck in his throat, itching his tongue and wanting so badly to get out, but he was mute, could only try to explain himself. Besides, there were no words to express just how sorry he was, but he knew how right you were. You were always right. You did deserve more than that, you deserved a better explanation.

Bruce swallowed down his dry throat, clenching his jaw as he looked back up at you, aching to step through the threshold of the window and grab your face between his broken hands and kiss your tears away. He felt hot coils of guilt and regret wrap around his heart and squeeze, his chest collapsing in on itself.

“I-I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth. I needed to think… and to do that I had to leave. I just needed to understand why.” He spoke raspy, voice gritted with anguish and sincerity, looking at you with such desperation it made your foot itch to step towards him, made your heart yearn to comfort him. He was downright pitiful, fingers holding onto the brick so hard it could crumble under his strength. He was slouched down, looking up at you with sunken eyes, begging and pleading without an ounce of shame.

You stared back at him, clenching your jaw so hard your teeth hurt. God, you really did just want to hold him again, kiss him again… the need was too much, burning inside you and crawling under your skin. You had your hands crossed over your chest like you were physically trying to hold yourself back, like you were trying to protect yourself against his woeful whims of persuasion.

You frowned at his statement, the rational part of your brain that was still logical and loyal to you making you want to question him more, learn more, find out more. Your shoulders slumped as you looked back at him confused, lips pulled in a frown.

“Why what? Think about what? Can you stop being so vague!” You said exasperated, wishing he would just say what he meant and stop being so damn secretive all the time. Especially now, especially here. He was the one who showed up here after all this time and now he was trying to just sneak by with it. You refused to let him, forced him to confront his own dilemma. You couldn’t see it any other way, blinded by your own rose colored rage that needed an explanation.

Bruce grit his teeth, working up the nerve to answer you as he looked down at your feet, looking physically pained. He wanted to tell you why, he wanted to tell you why so badly, but just as soon as he wanted to say it he was found at a loss for words, struck with that same fear again that made his words stutter. That same fear of being rejected, ridiculed, that fear of putting his heart on his sleeve and having you pierce it with a silver dagger. He was Batman, the shadow of shadows who dealt with worse pain than you could ever imagine. He’s been shot, stabbed, cut up, pushed out of a window, and any other horror you could ever imagine but somehow… none of that hurt would ever compare to the pain caused by your rejection.

You had the power to destroy him and you didn’t even know it. You didn’t know how much of him you carried with you, how easily you could make him fall. Against Gotham he was the Dark Knight, relentless, strong and menacing, capable of things you didn’t want to think about. Against you… he was nothing, powerless, a twig in your hand you could crush without a thought. He was weak against your beauteous thrall and he just wished he could’ve admitted that to himself so much sooner.

Bruce felt his heart constrict, his palms suddenly clammy and his throat suddenly dry; he swallowed roughly. His own heart pounded in his ears, beating under his hot skin, the reality of what he was about to say hitting him full force and he felt like he could pass out, right here on your fire escape, light headed and heavy chested.

He let out a big breath through his nose, gripping the wall between his bloody gloved hands, mustering up the confidence he needed and pushing his fear down, down and deep so it couldn’t be acknowledged anymore. He smothered his insecurities and doubts like a candle wick, clenched his jaw and cleared the smoke from his mind. Bruce looked up at you, eyes glimmering like fire light as they looked over your form once more. He looked up from your socks and your feet, up to your smooth legs and pink nightgown, up to your face, where he focused intently on your lips and nose and eyes.

You looked back at him, where he was staring at you with a type of ferocity and intensity it had your breath stuck in your throat, chills going down your spine.

“…Why I was in love with you.”

You swore your heart stopped.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, you loved him back, and Bruce couldn’t have been happier about it. But, during the actual relationship he was very much still the same, but you could see that he was trying to be closer to you, it was just hard for him. You helped him, made him feel not so scared.

⋆˙⟡♡ You were patient with him, never judged or pushed him to do things you knew he had a hard time doing. He always wanted to talk to you about his parents but he would stop himself before he went in depth about it. That was something he needed time with, and you understood it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always doing small things for you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so focused on him. He would always smooth out your pillows for you, make you breakfast and be shy that he made something you didn’t like, he would even blow out your candle for you if you ever left it lit. He would give you small gifts, sometimes expensive, a bracelet or a necklace, a set of earrings his mother adored. You loved them all.

⋆˙⟡♡ You had to buy him those vanilla bean and raspberry candles you had. He set them up around his home because the smell reminded him of you and your house, his safe space.

⋆˙⟡♡ He still didn’t like to talk, but he loved to listen. He’d ask questions that were deeply intimate and personal because he wanted to know everything about you. He’d apologize for prodding but he really had no shame about it. He wanted to know you more, learn everything.

⋆˙⟡♡ He loved holding you in his sleep, you made his nightmares go away and made him feel less lonely. He would still flinch sometimes, keep his hands at appropriate distances away from your precious parts. He was a gentleman, that was for sure.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t sleep a lot still, so he’d always stare at you when you slept, brush his hand on your cheek when he’d leave in his Batman suit for the night. He hated leaving you, but knew he had responsibilities to his city he couldn’t abandon.

⋆˙⟡♡ He introduced you to Alfred, rather, Alfred went to clean up Bruce’s room early in the morning and found you two in a rather compromising position. He just chuckled and walked out while Bruce awkwardly scrambled to compose himself. You were mortified.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce liked to draw you a lot, most of the time from memory when he was bored on a late night, sitting on a rooftop with charcoal scratching on ripped paper. He didn’t show them to you, but you found them anyway.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce was soft, gentle with you, but sex was a different story, just depended on his day. Most of the time he was sweet, making up for leaving you and hurting you. He always carried so much guilt about it, even when you told him you were over it and understood why he did it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t come out with you as a couple to the press, as Bruce Wayne. He didn’t want them to badger you and question you, make you feel uncomfortable. He came to you a lot, his house was always under constant scrutiny from the public.

⋆˙⟡♡ He threatened your boss when you refused to quit your job. It was late, he was Batman, and your boss just so happened to walk past him. Bruce threw him against the wall with promises of pain if he didn’t treat you right. You had a sneaky suspicion your boyfriend had something to do with your now positive work atmosphere and sudden raise, but decided not to question him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always touching you, or kissing you, hesitant to show outright affection so he was subtle when he did it. A hand on your lower back, hovering over your jacket or gently pressing into it. A hand on your arm, a peck on your forehead, a kiss to your cheek when you’d fall asleep.

⋆˙⟡♡ He told you he loved you every night, rarely ever during the day. It was in his bed or yours, when it was silent and cozy, he’d whisper it in your hair or against your skin, and you’d smile and tell him the same.

⋆˙⟡♡ You never expected anything from him besides his love, but he always felt like he owed you something, grateful that you gave him this chance to be with you despite what he did.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was constantly worried about you, on edge when you would be out by yourself or come home later than usual on the nights he couldn’t see you. He would always think the worst, think you were dead and he was too late, someone found him out and was using you to blackmail him. All the worst scenarios to prepare himself for the worst outcomes.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is constantly having negative intrusive thoughts. You’ll leave him, he doesn’t deserve you, he should’ve stayed gone. He’ll go quiet and try to isolate himself when that happens, so you always try and support him and reassure him in any way you can.

⋆˙⟡♡ He still has such a hard time being vulnerable and talking about his past, but he tries with you. He’ll get tongue tied sometimes or a sentence will drift off before he can finish it, but he’ll try.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is always so busy he forgets to eat. You’ll constantly remind him food is good for you. So, some days he’ll go eating nothing at all, despite you and Alfred’s insistence. But when he does, it’s a big feast Alfred prepares for him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He is very sweet, a complete gentleman. He has the best manners. He always says his pleases and his thank yous. He’ll follow a question with, when you have a chance, if you can. With Alfred though he’ll be so distracted he’ll just walk away. He doesn’t mean to, just makes sure he’s extra gentle with you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He likes black and white films to play in the background when he’s not doing anything. Or slow, almost gothic music to really set the tone. He’s emo like that and I just know it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He goes to Alfred a lot for relationship advice, scared he’ll mess up and you’ll leave him. He wants to avoid making mistakes with you, so he’ll ask for help or reassurance on what to do.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce has a tendency to ignore any problem until it goes away, especially to avoid a fight with you. He’s confrontational when it comes to you, so he’ll let you have your way a lot of the time. He doesn’t like to fight with you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Bruce was sweet and shy, always making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He never judged you when you’d tell him your stories or your past, he never accused you of things, and he never raised his voice at you when things would get frustrating. He loved you too much, appreciated you too much. You had no idea how happy you made him even if his face didn’t show it.

He was still wary, scared you’ll leave him, scared one of his enemies will find you out and take you away from him. But he was always there, watching and protecting, hiding in the shadows, being the shadow, on the nights you didn’t know. He may have been Gotham’s protector, but he was also yours.

He loved you and was grateful for you, so grateful he met you when he did and that you trusted him enough to let him see every lovely part of you. He vowed to protect you, to cherish you, and he made good on that promise. Even going as far as to blow out your candle every day before you’d leave for work. Couldn’t have you burning your house down, now could he?

Honestly, I could go on and on about this man so I think I have to end this here. But thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed, especially @diavolosbaby who requested this. I really hope you like it, and if you’re not satisfied or I didn’t answer your ask correctly then don’t be afraid to tell me 💕💕 constructive criticism isn’t bad mmkay ☺️💕

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lolita-lollipop · 6 months

Text

broken glass

UVOGIN X READER

warnings: yandere(stalking implied), reader is not okay, bad upbringing, kidnapping.

Kinda long but it’s okay

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Ever since you were nothing but a child, the world had chosen to bring you misfortune. A dead mother, a father who is would love you if alcohol didn’t exist, a lack of friends, or family, or anybody who cared.

Your life was an endless cycle of misery and misfortune. You were cursed with the worst luck possible.

As a girl you were bullied, living in a small town the knowledge that your mother was killed brutally spread fast, and the kids at school would take anything to fuck somebody up. It only got worse when your dad did nothing to stop it. So you grew up an outsider, somebody completely alienated from the rest of the people your age.

The worst part about it, was that there was nothing you could do to fix it. You were strong enough to fight them back and win, nor were you smart enough to get them caught by the schools or their parents. So you had to live with it.

Your unlucky tendencies carried with you all the way into adulthood. You had somehow managed to get into a good college, miles and miles away from your small hometown, where your past couldn’t follow you. But by that time you had no clue how to socialize like a normal person, so you only made a few friends in your first year. Even so, your life was going better than it ever had, you had more friends than you’d ever accomplished to make in your childhood, your roommate cared for you, being much older and much wiser. And you were happy.

Then, you got a call. From the exact person you had been avoiding since you stepped foot out of that awful town. That awful place.

“Y/n… I’m sick” your father sounded older, his voice was scratchy and weak now. Probably from the endless amount of cigarettes he smoked, you knew that your dad would never call you unless he actually needed you. He hadn’t even tried to contact you since you left, barely caring enough to send you a happy birthday text. You were a last resort to him, that much you knew for certain.

“And.”

“I need you to come back. To come home. My legs, my legs don’t work anymore. Please baby…I miss you.” You could hear the lies dripping from every word he spoke, that’s the sweet tone you had only ever heard from your father when he wanted something. Usually it was something as minuscule as money or whiskey or weed. Like usual, he knew you didn’t know how to say no to him when he dangled that ghost of affection in your face. And like usual, you chased after it like an idiot.

That’s what you were, an idiot. You knew ut, your father knew it. Who would go back to a life of misery, back to a town filled with only sad memories, of pain. Who would be stupid enough to fall for the manipulation of an old man who barely raised you? You would.

So, you packed your stuff up from your dorm, opting for the online classes your college offered. And prepared for the long drive home in an old car you bought for half the already low price.

And here you were. Standing in your local grocery store , in your pajamas, trying to decide if you had enough money for snacks for the drive home. Bags under your eyes from sleepless nights, a heavy weight pulling down on your shoulders as you accepted your fate, doomed to a small town full of bullies and lying snakes.

The melancholy of your situation weighed down on you, showing on your face, the frown lines deepening as you sucked yourself deeper into a depressive black hole. Blankly staring at the small bags of corn chips and popcorn, you let your shoulders sag. Exhaustion reading on your posture. You didn’t know how long you were standing there, nor did you care. Not until a string band tapped your shoulder a few times, sending your head to snap up, and your eyes to snap out of it.

“You alright there doll? Ya look a little bit… dead” a gruff voice spoke, it was scratchy and rough. Not in the way your fathers was (withered with age and years of vices), but natural. Husky. Pulling yourself up from your spacing out, you straightened your back, screaming your neck up to see him. The man was fucking giant, taller than anybody you had ever seen before, with tattoos speckling his neck and arms. You stood there for a few moments, staring in awe at the man whom you hadn’t realized was actually pretty terrifying in person. Maybe you were just tired, or stressed, or scared, but the way he stared made you want sink into your own skin and disappear. It was unsettling, how his stare weighed down on your shoulders and pulled you back away from him.

“Uhh- Yeah man. I’m good.” You spoke in your quiet voice, pulling your shoulder as far away from his hand as you could. You sent him a tight lipped smile, and returns to your decision between what bagged snack you would pick. You tried to ignore him, who stayed put in his spot next to you despite your obvious dismissal to his advance on a conversation.

You spotted him in your peripheral vision, staring at you. That heavy feeling never left you, and the longer the giant man stayed there, the heavier and heavier it weighed down.

“The popcorn is gross here. It comes stale even in a sealed bag. I wouldn’t get it if ya don’t wanna feel sick tommorow” he spoke again, leaning down to be at your eye level. You glanced back at him, remaining indifferent despite your ever-quickening heartbeat. His eyes were still focused on yours, while your pen glanced over his physical appearance.

It wasn’t just his height that made yoh hneasy, he was wide in a muscular way, with a beard that put the men of your hometown to shame. There were slight twinges of Greg throughout his long hair, and while he was well kept and smelled nice, he had messy, almost unhinged undertone. And yoh had managed to gather all of that without even talking to him much. You gave another right smile, before throwing the chips back and placing the popcorn in your basket (doing it almost to spite the man) among the advil and energy drinks. You almost missed the way his eyes scanned over your cart. Almost.

“Thanks” with that, you were off, trudging your way to the front of the store with your basket in tow, you heard a pair of heavy footsteps behind you, and the cashier glanced up for a couple seconds. A recognizable look of fear flashed on her face for no longer than a moment, before the bells of the front doors let out a cheery jingle. And the man was gone.

The repetitive beep of the checkout machine rang through the storefront, as the woman made no move to strike up a conversation with you, her eyebags sinking almost worse than your own. You had almost worked here at some point, when you first arrived to the big city. You were glad you didn’t now, as you didn’t want to be subjected to whatever this pooor woman clearly had been through.

She just kept beeping through your groceries, bagging them up, and setting them off to the side for you to grab. When she was finally finished she placed the pricing machine down and stared at yoj like she was waiting for something, you pulled your card out of your pocket and gave it to her, but she immediately handed it right back. You sighed, partially in confusion and partially of exhaustion. Of all times, now was not the moments for somebody to mess with you, at two AM at a stupid grocery store. You stared right back as she held the card out to you, waiting for you to grab it.

“He paid for your shit. Just take it”

Huh

Strange.

———

That night you went home with a weird feeling in your stomach, you know when something feels like it’s gonna go wrong? Yeah. That. You chose to blame it on your father, knowing that you would not be met with a joyful arrival home.

The feeling stuck with you all along the drive to your little stupid house in the middle of nowhere, the popcorn you had bought did actually end up being gross, but it didn’t change the satisfaction you got from denying that man of you following his advice. Your radio was cutting in and out, your car was on the verge of breaking down, and your ac didn’t work anymore, leaving you sweaty and sticky in your car.

You weren’t wrong in assuming that it wouldn’t be a happy “welcome home”, it would’ve been nice yeah, but it wasn’t a surprise when you pulled up to your house and there was no short outside. The dead grass of your front yard, and withering plants of what once was your guarden spoke for itself how your father had been taking care of the property. Leafy vines had started to overtake the front wall of your home, the place looked abandoned. Sad.

After a few deep breaths of preparation for whatever fight that was about to come, you hopped out of your truck and began the short truck to your front door. The small glass frame above it was smashed with many small cracks across the surface.

It was sad really. The house once looked somewhat presentable, none of the houses in the area looked to be well kept or highly perfected in the visual category, they never looked that way, but at least you could tell it was a home for someone whether it be the old lady next door with kids who don't care about her and more debt she could handle, or the couple across the street you used to hear screaming at each other through the night. Somebody really lived in those homes, your house looked like an empty shell.

The pavement leading up to the front door was cracked and probably permanently stained with dirt or paint or blood or alcohol, the little garden you used to try to keep alive while you were little was shriveled and blackened by the sun, no lights were on in the house, and it was dead silent. You hated this place, you hated that you were back here, you hated that you still cared for this empty pit of shame and misery of a home. Cared for a man that had hurt you so very many times.

Approaching the door, you didn't even care to knock or ring the bell, the electricity in your house had long been cut off so it wouldnt matter, and if your father was expecting you he wouldnt mind if you just walked in. It was your house, anyway. Placing your hand on the doorknob, you let a deep breath calm down your running heart and pushed it open.

…

Unsurprisingly, the house was dead silent, a creak resonating through the open space as the noise bounced wall to wall. You could hear your heartbeat as you walked over the rest of the broken glass from the window, leaving quiet crunches under your feet. Just breathing the air in your home sent awful memories of childhood to race across your brain, it smelled like your dad, like alcohol and cigarettes and unhappiness and anger. It even looked miserable in here, almost just as bad, if not worse, than outside.

Flicking on your phone flashlight, little flecks of broken glass reflected the light, they were scattered across the entire house, maybe from the broken front window, maybe from other windows in the house. Your dad was never one for cleaning, knowing him he must've gotten upset and broken a couple. With no one else to clean it, he probably left it there. That's how he is, how he's always been. Why did you love him? How stupid were you?

“Dad?” you called, but it echoed through the home. You now realize just how empty it truly was, no more furniture was scattered here or there or anywhere, it was just empty and sad. Fitting. Really fucking fitting.

“Dad? You called me?” You called once more, still only getting the creaks of the old house in return. You took another deep breath, the smell was starting to get to you, this was supposed to be easier for you now, you were an independent woman now, and the smell of your childhood home shouldn't have you spiraling like it did. You shouldn't have come here.

“I drove all the way out here for you. If you weren't gonna show you could've just called me. Go to hell, asshole.” still awaiting an answer. You knew he wasn't here, and you certainly knew it was stupid to talk to an empty house, but you wasted gas and good money for this. Wasted money on a man who didn't even care enough to show his face. Wasted money to go back to a life you've been clawing to escape from.

You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

It hurt to be here, genuinely, the floors felt like they were trying to soak you up and suffocate you, the walls felt like they were closing in, and the ceilings felt like they were slowly crushing you. What were you supposed to do? You spent so long running away from this place, how could you let yourself be dragged back here, especially for no reason?

Your eyes fell to your feet, sucking in air as best as you could, you tried your hardest to keep your soft cries from turning into sobs. There wasn't anybody to hide your tears from, but it felt wrong, you shouldn't let yourself be this upset. You know.

Your cries halted when you spotted a dark patch of carpet in between the space where your feet were planted, not tears or water or even alcohol, it was bright red. Blood, and not the kind that's gone brown because it's been sitting for so long. This was new, recent blood. The dead silence of the house now had you frozen in spot. Could somebody have broken in? Your eyes followed a now obvious trail of spots leading toward your mom's old bedroom.

They slept in different rooms before she died, whether it was because they hated or other or were scared of each other (or both) he never went in there. Never.

You should leave. Shouldn't you? You should leave, he's not your problem anymore, he abandoned you when you were little, and kicked you to the curb. He deserved whatever was coming to him, he had it coming. You should leave, you should leave, you should leave, you should leave.

…

But you can't.

Even though you were actively willing to run out the front door, you just couldn't find it in you to leave. Pathetic. You knew, but this is how it was, this is how it was always meant to be. He calls and you answer, no matter how fucked up it was.

So, instead of making a haste bolt for the door or any of the broken windows, you slowly crept closer and closer to the bedroom where you said goodbye to your mother, your breath was shallow and unmanageable, almost worse than your uncontrollable heartbeat, whatever was behind the door was surely not pretty.

It took you a few moments to work up the courage to even touch the doorknob, hand quivering along the way there. You waited, the last time you were in this room was over 10 years ago, you couldn't even remember what it looked like, what your mother looked like. You were being stupid weren't you, it was just a room, probably empty by now, furniture either stolen or sold like the rest of the house. inhaling, you twisted, and pushed the door open.

To reveal… absolutely nothing. Just an empty room with the same exact smell as the rest of the house, a puddle of blood sat in the middle of the room, but nobody, no person or animal or thing that could bleed. Just an empty, meaningless room. Just like the rest of the house. You let out a sigh of relief at the uneventfulness of the failed search, that wasn't so bad, you were fine.

Were you? A loud creak echoed through the short hallway behind you, and you made a motion to turn around.

Hands were on you before you could even breathe again. One covering your mouth, and one firmly planted on your shoulder. Huge hands, bigger than your fathers for sure, calloused and strong, scarily strong. Whoever this was smelled familiar, vaguely familiar, not like someone you knew closely. The shock from him grabbing you forced your phone to fall out of your grip. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god

You should have gone home, you should've cursed out your father and left. You shouldn't have been curious or caring or kind… you lived in a bad neighborhood, people died left and right, and the police couldn't give less of a shit what happens here. You were going to die, you were going to die in the same house you grew up in, the same house you cried and hurt and screamed in. What a sad ending, to think you were finally starting to get your life on somewhat of a track, only to die at the hands of a stranger. Fuc-

“Stop thinking so hard, I’m not gonna hurt you” a gruff voice spoke behind you, deep and dark and powerful. You started crying the second he spoke, your heart beating faster than your body should be able to take. Whoever this was, was not somebody you would ever want to mess with, they sounded more authoritative than you could ever even wish to be. You couldn't stop your heart from clenching out of fear, couldn't stop the tears from dripping down your face, couldn't breathe right.

“You don't need to cry… I said I wasn't gonna hurt you” One of his fingers strayed from your mouth to wipe tears away, but it did nothing to stop fear from overtaking your senses or forcing out sobs and cries from your lips. You were positive that your entire body was quivering and shaking, you couldn't feel it, too scared to think about anything other than death, but you knew it was naturally happening. You heard him let out a sigh from behind you (even his breathing was harsh and rough) before his arm hooked under your knees and pulled you flush against him.

“I’ve never been this close to you before, I’ve been waiting for this one for a while. We met when we were kids ya know, you looked so… empty, miserable, tired, fucking empty. You still do, you're just better at hiding it. I've been watching, it since then. You're just too nice for your good.” your cries increased as he spoke, you didn't struggle or scratch or scream, just cried. He was too strong for it to matter if you did.

He chuckled as you kept crying, by now he had begun to walk to the front door.

“Don't make a scene, if anybody notices, they're dead.” The words he spoke were so nonchalant, but still so terrifying that it had you struggling to breathe. He broke the front door open with his foot and pushed his way through the doorway, he hit his head on the top as he went through, that must be why the glass was broken.

You were frozen in his arms as he continued to carry you, the sun now lit up your surroundings, showing exactly who your captor was, now it made sense why you mildly recognized him. He was the man from the grocery store, you should've known by the way he spoke, you should've recognized that voice anywhere. HE caught your gaze as you stared at him, giving you a toothy smile. His canines were scarily sharp, and now that you can get a closer look this man was even more terrifying. His bear, his eyes, his teeth, everything about him screamed danger. You stiffened as you stared at him, why why why why why why why You shouldn't have fucking come here.

“Quit looking so scared of me. God you're stiff as a board, I forgot how jumpy you were. It's been a while since I’ve seen you this scared, not since the incident at the coffee shop-” Who does he think he is? Talking just like he knows you like he's had any kind of conversation with you before that wasn't about popcorn at a stupid stupid grocery store. What were you supposed to do? You fully believed that he was the type of man to kill anybody who tried to stop him, even then nobody would (people in this neighborhood learned to keep their mouths shut), and he was much much stronger than you. You just… you just had to give up. There was no winning, not against him, not here.

The thought alone made you want to curl up and die.

Pathetic.

“Don't worry though, You're scared and I get it. But you'll get used to me. I’ll treat you real good, buy you things you’ve never had before. “ Your breath hitched and you quivered as he continued to blabber on and on about what kind of house he had, he tucked you into the passenger seat of some kind of black fancy car, got into the driver's seat, and proceeded to drive away—no more explanation than that. You couldn't do anything more than stare at him with those wide eyes of yours, he was watching you too intensely for you to try and throw yourself out of the car, and even then you doubted you would get very far before he caught you.

So you awkwardly sat in the leather seats of the fancy-ass car, tears still freely flowing as you sat, waiting for this man to take you to some alleyway and murder you. You picked at your fingernails, eyes darting around the interior of the car, it was clean and neat and looked to be stupidly expensive, everything that man wasn't. Who is that man anyway?

Almost as if reading your mind, the man brought a hand up to wipe the tears from your face, only to end up cupping your cheek and staring at you for a while as he drove.

“The name’s Uvogin, and I’m madly in love with you”

———————————————————————

Hey pookie s I’m back, this has been in my wanna write list for a LONG time. But it’s now so it’s fine. I’m kinda weak in the knees for the entire phantom troupe so tell me what you think.

Sorry for the long delay:) but I’m back now

Have a great day today, bye!

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mynameismisty · 6 months

Text

MOONLIGHT| KUNG LAOX FEM!READER

☆SUMMARY: Maybe because you were supposed to be with him. Not Raiden. Not anyone. Just for him.

☆ORIGIN: Cliche drunk smut thingy

Pt 1 here (yes this is pt 2 to Too Late, read the pt 1 so u'll get it)

☆WARNINGS: NSFW, fingering, mentions of alcohol, confessions(???), praising ig💀 and some other shit i mightve forgotten

NSFW CONTENT/MINORS DNI

You sulked for almost a month and a half now, you'd stay at your house and just cry and cry over what Raiden's last words to you were.

"I liked you too."

Liked. Liked.

Maybe it was a coincidence or maybe he knew but you heard your telephone ring, answering it, you hear the voice of your other close friend, Kung Lao.

"Hello? Lao?" You say, sniffling and trying to hide the fact you were crying over Raiden again right now.

"Y/N, I haven't- We haven't seen you in a while. Me, Johnny or Kenshi and...and Raiden too... so uh, How are you doing?" Kung Lao spoke softly.

"I- I don't think I'm doing alright." You shut your eyes at the mention of Raiden's name. There was a moment of silence before Kung Lao spoke up again. "Then, just us."

"What?"

"Come over, it'll be just us and we'll drink at my house. Tonight." Lao really wasn't asking or requesting, was he?

"Oh- alright then-" you say as you put down the telephone. Maybe you needed this break maybe just once.

So there it was, you and Kung Lao sitting on the floor at the end of his bed as empty bottles and cans of alcohol laid uselessly beside you two.

"How come you still like Raiden?" Kung Lao says, chuckling with pink cheeks as he took another sip from his own can.

"I've liked him for years, Kung Lao! He liked me back in highschool too and I was too fucking dumb to even notice.." you groan as you say the last sentence, mentally giving yourself a facepalm. "And besides, what hope is there left? No one would even love me anymore."

"What? Yes I- yes, they would. I know someone who'd love you to bits and pieces and every perfect part of you, every flaw. And you behind that facade you keep up."

"Oh, you humor me Lao," You gave a dry chuckle. "Flaws and all? Be serious. Women can barely find guys like that. No guy would like a girl like me that way unless I was like... I don't know, really pretty. And even then I doubt they'd give a rat's ass about anything other else such as personality or shit."

You took another sip from your drink, cursing yourself after you started to feel tired. Were you tired because of the alcohol you just drank? Or was it because you were still thinking about Raiden?

"Y/N? Y/N you don't look fine." Kung Lao says, with a worrying look, letting go of the bottle he held in his hand and gently squeezing yours. "What is it?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I said I'm fine."

"Again, you don't look fin-" He pushed, putting a hand on your shoulder

"Alright!" You gave in, cutting off Lao's sentence. "I've been mopping around my house. I look like a depressed little kitty who got thrown to the sidewalk and I've been so so so tired lately and this is the only social face to face interaction I've had in a month and a half!"

You sigh and look at him, suddenly feeling worry as he raised his eyebrows at you. "Sorry, I just needed to talk.." you say, drinking the alcohol quickly and purposely gave yourself hiccups to avoid the embarrassingly silent situation.

You noticed how he shuffled his hand and his lips seemed to move but no words came out. Was he gonna say Raiden didn't like you back? Not like you didn't already know.

He turned his head and gazed at you. "I know Raiden doesn't deserve you." Kung Lao says quietly as his dark brown eyes darted back to yours, silently asking for your response.

"Huh? And- and why?" You were suprised to hear this, and from Kung Lao too.

"He's just a simple guy, you are way out of his league."

"More like I'm out of his..." You sigh, putting down the bottle you had in your hand. "I can't move on that easily, Kung Lao. I mean, to who would I move on to? I'm gonna die alone!"

He chuckled and there was a sound of gulping before he finally spoke.

"Me." Kung Lao whispered while averting his gaze from your eyes.

"What?" You choke out. But now you notice, the moonlight coming from his window seemed to play onto his features, highlighting the parts of his face most pretty, it had his dark brown eyes gleaming with small highlights. Was he really this pretty? Did you just now notice?

"Me. I don't care if you don't reciprocate my feelings...I just...I've liked you for so long. Before highschool, before your glowup, before you liked...Raiden." he says, Raiden sounding much of an afterthought.

"You like me?" Your voice seemed to suddenly dissappear, sounding hoarse and throat too tight to speak. Yes, you were drunk, but even then you knew you'd remember everything in the morning

"Of course I do. You're the best thing that happened to me!" He gave a hazy smile, those already too familiar dimples appearing again.

"Do you...do you promise me?"

"Promise what?"

"Promise me that what you're saying is..true." You say, small tears filling up your eyes.

"Instead of telling you, do you want me to show you?" Kung Lao said, grabbing your chin and made you look at him straight in his eyes.

It was all he had to say for you to part your lips obediently, letting his tongue slip past, brushing over yours. Kung Lao tasted like the liquor you both were drinking but with his scent, it was already too familiar.

They felt soft, almost like a cloud. Kung Lao closed his eyes, hand snaking around your back and the other cupping your cheek as your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck . It didn't take long for you two to get into a heated moment with you sitting right up on the couch with your legs wrapped around his waist.

He took off your shirt in a rushed manner, almost ripping off your underwear. You were the same for him, rushing to take his sleeveless hoodie off and unbuttoning his pants.

"Fuck, Lao- I need you."

"I'm here right now, Y/N."

His hands circled your ass and gave a small slap which made you yelp.

"Oh, Y/N. You're too perfect." Kung Lao said as he peppered your collarbone with kisses, making you sound out a soft moan.

You could then feel his fingers going to your wet core, circling your clit at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Lao- shit, please go faster." You moan, covering your mouth with your free hand while the other was holding onto his shoulder.

He paid no attention to your whines and suddenly entered you with two fingers, the wet sound making an echo through the room.

"You feel so gentle, so soft." Kung Lao mumbled as he buried his face into your shoulder and sucking on the skin on your neck. "You're so perfect. How could you not see that?" He said as he sped up the pace on his fingers, wanting to feel you clench around him.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Just like that Lao. Shit."

"Good girl," he purred into your ear. "Eyes on me, my sweet." You really didn't know if it was the drunk talk he was doing or he really meant it, either way your sweating face flushed a shade of pink from his words.

And those words made you climax on his fingers, shutting your eyes and the grip on Kung Lao's shoulder tightened.

Coming down from your high, you felt Kung Lao pull his fingers with a wet sound from your core, bringing it to his mouth and licking the sweetness off his fingers.

You were panting, grip on his shoulder loosening and finally opening your eyes. "Lao?" You asked, staring at him straight in the eyes. "Yes, Y/N?" He says, this time being the one who shut their eyes."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I knew you liked Raiden... I didn't want to conflict you."

"You should've told me sooner." You mumble against him, laying your head on his chest.

There wasn't an answer and you pull away, looking at him again.

Kung Lao was standing infront of you, sleeping. He wasn't moving nor flushing his eyes.

You gave a small flick to his nose but no reaction. "Oh, Lao." You smile tiredlessly, holding him as you carefully set him down on the bed, laying on his back.

"Maybe you'll remember in the morning." Closing his curtains, you lay beside him, snuggling into his side.

"Hopefully you will." You whisper, as the familiar darkness of sleep seemed to pull your eyes shut.

You slept alone, cold even with a blanket on, on most nights.

But tonight it looks like someone's finally keeping you warm.

i js wanted to write a contribution to my baby boy kung lao♡♡♡♡♡

Requests are always open for u lovelies🥰

@xyinparadise

#mortal kombat #mk1 #raiden #mk1 2023 #fluff #smut #kung lao x reader #kung lao #mortal kombat fluff #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat1

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humblequestvinyl · 6 months

Text

growing sideways

GROWING SIDEWAYS, FISHER BROTHERS X SISTER!READER

APART OF THE ‘WE’LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER’ SERIES

SUMMARY: when the unexpected happens and laurel shows up at the summer house, y/n fisher is confronted with more than just trying to keep the summer house from being sold.

inspired by growing sideways by noah kahan

◀ ⏸ ▶

lowercase is intentional! wc: 1.8k

warnings: mention of underage drinking, deep grief, mentions of not eating, swearing, depression, throwing up & broken promises (literally just sibling banter but you know!)

a/n: guys i got accepted into college who cheered. anyway i have been grinding on school work i promise i didn’t forget about this series & my tumblr account! i also didn't proof read this sorry

WAKING UP IN THE MORNING WITH A MASSIVE HANGOVER WAS SOMETHING Y/N WAS QUICKLY BECOMING ACCUSTOMED TO,

and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

except this morning, she woke up to a quiet knock on her door, and the h/c laid still hoping whoever it was would just go away. however, she knew she was screwed as soon as the door opened, and her bed dipped.

“n/n you’ve gotta get up.”conrad told the girl, seeing her breathing still for a moment before trying to go back to normal, “i’m serious y/n, laurel’s here and she wants to talk to you.”

it was silent for a few moments before y/n made slight movement, curling up into a ball, not really wanting to leave her spot for the day unless she had to, “why is laurel here?”

“apparently you were so drunk that you called her and left her a voicemail sobbing about how dad was selling the house, how you fought with emerson and how i was going to miss my exams.”conrad explained, and everything from the night before had hit y/n all at once.

the fight with emerson, the call to laurel, the endless amount of alcohol she had, and the fact that they were about to lose the house she called her first home.

“i’m gonna be sick.”y/n muttered before rushing towards the bathroom where her eldest brother held her hair back, with a frown spread across his face knowing everything was about to get a lot worse.

one she was finished, jeremiah walked in with a bottle of water for the girl. she took slow sips, quietly thanking her brother for the bottle before jere leaned up against the door frame of the bathroom, watching his little sister with slight worry.

“is dad down there too?”y/n questioned, and the two shook their heads, “good, i don’t have the energy to fight with him today.”

“he left about an hour ago.”jere told her, and she hummed, leaning her head up against the wall, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

“c’mon, if you go talk to laurel, you, jere, belly, steven and i will go to denny’s after to get breakfast.”conrad told the girl hoping it would at least get her willingly downstairs, “it’ll help with the hangover.”

“you promise?”y/n questioned, staring up at conrad with slight hope he’d actually take her.

“have i ever broken a promise with you before?”conrad questioned with a slight chuckle as he helped his sister up, and the fisher brothers walked the girl downstairs, making sure she wasn’t going to fall.

“when i was eleven you pinky promised you’d get me cotton candy on the boardwalk but that never happened.”y/n told him with a slight frown as they finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, and into the kitchen where they sat laurel cleaning up the breakfast that she had made for their father.

“i’ll get you some the next time we’re there.”he told her, guiding her towards one of the barstools, and the two brothers gave laurel a smile, “she’s all yours.”

y/n watched as her brothers walked outside before her eyes drifted back to laurel who had a soft smile spread across her face, placing a glass of orange juice in front of her. she watched as laurel sat across from her, and she studied the woman who she considered like a second mother to her. the bags under her eyes were darker, and stress radiated off the woman but she still looked calm as ever.

“how are you doing?”laurel asked the girl, breaking the silence between the two as y/n gently sipped on the orange juice, glancing up at laurel, “is that a rhetorical question?”

“no, it’s a serious one.”

“well, i’m sitting here at the beach house trying to cope with the fact that we’re losing said beach house and my mom is dead.”y/n stated plainly, before plastering a sarcastic smile across her face, “how are you doing laurel?”

“well for starters i’m worried about you.”laurel told the girl in front of her as she continued to sip on the juice, “you scared the shit out of me with that phone call.”

“i’m sorry.”y/n mumbled as she finished the juice, and placed the glass into the sink, “i won’t call when i’m drunk.”

“it’s not even that kiddo,”laurel turned towards the h/c girl, trying her best to keep the situation calm, “connie texted me a few weeks ago saying they couldn’t find you for a bit, and then to get the voicemail you left last night, i’m worried about you.”

“well you shouldn’t be because i’m fine.”y/n stated as her lips pressed into a thin line, leaning up against the counted to look at laurel to try and convince her that everything was fine, “i’m breathing, i’m eating-”

“but you’re not.”laurel cut her off, catching y/n by surprise, “conrad and jeremiah don’t remember the last time you willingly ate without them having to force you to have something, and they’re telling me you’re not sleeping unless you’re drunk.”

“this isn’t healthy y/n.”she told the girl who looked at her in shock, not knowing that laurel had known, “you and i both know it.”

“but it works.”y/n whispered, knowing laurel was right. it wasn’t healthy but it was the only aspect in her life she had control over right now, and if she had her way, it was going to stay exactly like that.

“it doesn’t work y/n! if you seriously don’t stop drinking soon and eating more you’re going to end up in the hospital!”laurel exclaimed, and y/n watched her as she stood up and walked towards the girl, “i’m serious y/n this has got to stop.”

“this is the only thing i have control over right now.”the h/c girl admitted as tears brimmed her eyes, “the only fucking thing i have control over right now.”

“and it’s under control.”she lied, trying to keep her tears at bay knowing as soon as they slipped out, she’d completely break, “if you guys want me to start eating more then fine, i’ll start eating more.”

“but for fucks sake laurel, let me have this one thing.”y/n begged and laurel shook her head and she wrapped the girl in a tight hug, and she completely broke.

“i can’t kiddo and you know that.”laurel told the girl softly, her heart breaking for the girl she watched grown up come crashing down right in front of her, “you can do this n/n, you’ve got connie, jere, your dad-”

“but i don’t!”y/n spoke in between sobs, clutching onto the woman like she was the only person she had left, “dad hates me, connies at college, i can barely even talk with jere anymore since mom died and i pushed emmy so far away i doubt she’ll want to talk to me.”

“i’ve got nobody laurel.”

laurel pulled back from the hug, cupping the h/c girl cheeks, wiping away some of the stray tears that fell as y/n tried to hold off her sobs as long as she could.

“you’ve got me.”laurel told the girl, and y/n started to shake her head before laurel stopped her, “i know i’ve been absent since your mom died and i’m sorry for that. but i promise you y/n you’re never losing me.”

“and if that means you need me to come stay for the weekend or call me at midnight about something then do it.”the woman explained, and y/n nodded slowly, “but seriously y/n, you’ve gotta stop doing what you’re doing because it’s not healthy.”

“promise me you’ll at least try to stop.”laurel begged, and y/n nodded as her lip wobbled, threatening to unload more tears, “i promise.”

“and if you need anything i need you to call me.”she reminded the young girl, knowing there had been so many instances within the last two months that the girl didn’t call when she should’ve, but she also knew that laurel was graveling with her grief as well.

it was a few moments before either of them spoke up, having no words to be said before a thought popped into the h/c girl’s head, “what are we going to do about the house?”

laurel gave the girl a soft smile, one that instantly gave the fisher girl comfort, “you’re going to do absolutely nothing. it is all taken care of.”

“connie and jere will talk to you about it when you all go out to breakfast.”the woman told the girl just as they saw belly stick her head into the doorway with a slight smile on her face.

“you guys okay?”the girl asked, and y/n nodded, wiping away the remaining tears that streamed down her face, “if you’re all set we’re about to head out for breakfast.”

“go.”laurel told y/n, before the girl walked towards belly, and belly had the widest smile she had seen in awhile.

“almost ready to grab some breakfast?”belly questioned, and y/n nodded before the two walked out to conrad's car, leaving the girl replaying the entire conversation in her head.

the five split up into two cars, with belly going with jeremiah and steven, while y/n and conrad had gone in another.

as they drove off, taylor swift played softly in the background as y/n had her back turned to conrad, not really wanting to talk about anything in that moment after the emotional turmoil she had just went through.

when they finally arrived at dennys, they were the first ones there, and conrad shut the car off before turning to where y/n had been curled up.

“dad’s not selling the cousin’s house.”conrad finally spoke up, causing the girl’s head to whip around to look at her brother, “we’re keeping the house.”

“how?”y/n questioned as shock filled the girl, and she could see the smile spreading across his face, “laurel’s a miracle worker.”

“dad is going to sell the house in boston and you guys are going to move into the cousins house.”he explained, and conrad could finally see some sparkle come back into his sisters eyes.

“we’re staying in cousins.”

#conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #jeremiah fisher x reader #susannah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty angst #belly conklin x reader #belly conklin #we'll all be here forever series #jeremiah fisher angst #jeremiah fisher imagine #conrad fisher imagine #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher x sister!reader #jeremiah fisher x sister!reader

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sashi-ya · 7 months

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 28: FLESHLIGHT adult! Ichigo x F! Reader x adult! Uryu

requested by: anon ➡ would you write a fic for day 28 with Uryu and Ichigo and a afab! reader? thanks! wc: mdni. ichigo and uryu are adults. threesome. using reader as "a fleshlight". DP. some homoerotic action, but very subtle (you can think what you want), oral, creampie implied. wc: 1,7k masterlist.

Drunk, but not with alcohol. Lovers, haters… enemies, brothers.

The gathering had concluded. Their friends have taken their leaves. And the last one to abandon Ichigo’s house, was, of course, Uryu.

The tangerine haired young man plays on his bed, with some particular gaming console. He bounces his right foot, as he do… unaware of the blue haze that’s about to struck him.

“Kurosaki!” he screams, snatching his Switch from his hands. Ishida, a young soon to become doctor, forces Ichigo to stand up all of a sudden from his bed.

“What the fuck? Give it back, it’s not mine!” Ichigo protests, trying to reach for the console.

Uryu puts it down the desk as well as his glasses, and immediately after pounces on his friend.

“I told you once and a thousand times to stop flirting with (Name). I fucking hate you” Uryu grunts, trying to hit his friend but getting his fists stopped by Ichigo’s quick reaction.

As the ginger boy holds the onyx haired one’s wrists, he tries to understand what was exactly happening.

Uryu seems to have tears on his eyes. After all that happened, after the emotional spiral that they both had to face when younger, this felt to the Quincy like the worst of treacheries.

“Stop. STOP ISHIDA. I haven’t been flirting with her! I am not into (Name), why are you- STOP!” Ichigo tries to inject some reason into Uryu’s mind -even if he lies-. But the Quincy looks now more like a rabid cat than a man.

“I am tired of your shit… I am- why? Why would you… I saw you hugging her, I saw her sitting on your lap tonight…” Uryu mumbles, finally falling over his friend chest. He has ran out of strength, and the depression wins against confrontation.

Ichigo sighs. He, for sure, didn’t realize how bad his actions could hurt his friend. He proceeds to place his hand on Uryu’s not so wide back and lets him calm down with the safe embrace of someone he used to hate but loves as a brother.

“It wasn’t at all my intention. I’m sorry” Ichigo whispers.

Uryu clenching to his friend’s white shirt, stays carving his nose into Ichigo’s chest.

“I know…” he murmurs, almost like a little kid.

“Ichigo I think I forgot my – oh-“ you stop yourself right by the entrance of the substitute Shinigami’s door.

Truth is, you weren’t expecting to interrupt such an intimate moment. But it certainly startled you… while it was expected for them to love each other like brothers, sharing a bed in such conditions caught you by surprise.

Immediately after, they both separate and start stuttering to explain you something. You, on your side, don’t really need much explanation… though it was a little disappointing in a way that they were together; after all, you were actually struggling because you seem to like both.

“It’s ok guys! I am not telling anyone unless you say so! I am happy for you two. I think I forgot my Nintendo switch in here, but I will text you tomorrow!” you quickly say, trying to go away as soon as possible… as much as you liked both, and the scenario represented a pleasant homoerotic imagery, you weren’t invited to their “after party”

Ichigo pushes Ishida to the side, and fast enough stops you from walking. His strong hand around your wrist, makes you internally shiver.

“Listen, you are getting it all wrong! We weren’t doing that. We were just fighting!” he tries to explain, a little too desperate for you to believe in him.

You look at him, up and down. Ichigo looks visibly troubled, his breathing accelerated, and his hand clenching to you intensifies.

Soon, he is not the only one trying to stop you from leaving… and maybe, also trying to move Ichigo away.

“(Name)! I am not into men! Much less Kurosaki… I… In fact, I…” Uryu stutters and closes his beautiful deep blue eyes for some seconds before continuing. “In fact, I am into you. I want you. We were having a discussion because of you!”

Ichigo and you widen your eyes; despite his friend knowing, it was still a big deal for Ishida to finally confess in such way.

You take some time to even react, however your eyes fix into his with shining stars.

“Uryu I… I…” you try to think for the right words; you like him, but you like Ichigo as well… and he hasn’t let you go, either.

All of a sudden, the sweet voice of Ichigo breaks the silence. While being pulled to your left by Ishida, you are being pulled by him to the right.

“(Name), I like you too!” he confesses. Leaving you all doubly perplexed. “Chose one of us, the other will back up”

Ishida, who instantly realizes he wasn’t wrong, decides to focus on you before attacking Ichigo for lying to him. While Ichigo, looks away with a slight blush on his cheeks you haven’t seen before.

A wild idea comes to your mind… why choosing, if you can have both?

“I won’t chose” you speak. They both look at you defeated. “Share me” you purr. They both let your wrists go. “I want to be used by both of you” you finish.

And with no mediation, you are surrounded by two needy creatures; both driven by desire. Apparently lust can help the differences set in between two men in a blink of an eye.

You receive kisses on each side of your neck, their playful noses inhaling the scent of your skin and sometimes their fingers even meeting as they slide on your belly.

Slowly, but surely, your clothes end up on the floor and in between kissing, biting, and moaning you fall into Ichigo’s bed.

The Quincy(ies) and Shinigami gloat to see your legs falling a little spread, your arms behind to help your back remain a little erect and the bouncing of your breasts.

“I am going first” Ichigo grunts. “No fucking way, I am going first” Uryu growls. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted for you to share me while you use me?” you moan, spreading your legs wide open to flash them with the very tempting entrance to heaven.

Ichigo and Uryu look each other, and run to you with no hesitation. Both jumped in the bed, with Ishida in between your legs and Ichigo kneeling right next to your face.

While the dark haired one fingers your entrance and uses his tongue to trace circles around your clit, you choke with the dripping merciless sex of Ichigo.

“Use her like a fleshlight” Ichigo claims in between panting, as his dick reached the back of your throat, and you gag.

Ishida stops, leaving his lips posed on your femineity as he looks at Ichigo with eyes on fire. He is probably questioning Ichigo for those words, that indeed don’t sound like him at all.

You stop the oral delight, and with lips still shiny from Ichigo’s precum you moan; “Please… let me be your fleshlight, Ishida-kun ~”

Uryu closes his eyes and sighs loudly; his breathe cools the juices of your cunt and you squirm. He then proceeds to stand up and opens his shirt, while his pants fall to the ground and are sent flying to the other side of Ichigo’s room.

The Quincy looks at you, with his dick in his hand. You are so glad to finally discover what’s beneath that particular clothes of his. His delicate hand lifts his shirt just above his belly, exposing soft marked abs over pale skin.

He then, as he kneels back in between your legs, wipes the little drops of sweat on his forehead moving his black bangs to the side.

“A fleshlight you said? Like a piece of silicone? Is that what you wanna be for me, (Name)?” he asks, serious than ever, with trembling lips of desire and want.

“Ye-yes, like your beautiful little doll to fuck, Ishida-kun” you purr, and feel how Ichigo’s fingers bury, pinching your cheeks.

“God, (Name)… how can you be that much of a slut?” he asks, pumping his dick, with the veins of his hand protruding visibly.

You smirk at him, with puppy eyes and sticking your tongue out. You are ready to receive his load on it, as well as Ishida’s sex penetrating you really good.

And it’s actually even better than what you were expecting; Ishida’s hands slide down your waist to the small of your back to lift your hips up. You can feel his hardness entering you, stretching your walls, going deeper the more he bucks your hips up… because he knows exactly how to make you moan.

“Ah… fuck…” you swear, as cumming has became an imminent happening. “Are you cuming, mh? Are Ishida’s thrusts that good, baby?” Ichigo asks, on the verge of bathing you with his seed. “Bet both dicks inside of you will feel amazing, mh?”

You turn your eyes white, imagining to be double penetrated by them had to be the last push for you to jump into the abyss of climax.

You feel the warmth blessing of the Strawberry Shinigami on your mouth, overflowing the limits of your lips and running through your cheeks, neck, chest, breasts.

You taste the salty product, and even choke with it. Uryu’s rams are violent, so improper, so out of character of what he might look like he could do… they are literally merciless; he is using your cunt as a real fleshlight.

You tremble, every muscle in your body spasms, and orgasm hits you like never before. You grip to the sheets, but regardless you cuming, Uryu keeps fucking you.

“Ishida, lay back, let’s fuck her together” Ichigo suggests -orders-; Uryu obeys, fighting on the verge of climax won’t do for him.

As his back hit the bed, Ichigo manages to crawl behind you and lifts you up from your arms. You, still cumming, almost losing conscious from overstimulation are now on top of Uryu -whose hips haven’t stopped fucking you yet-

“Now, bend a little over him (Name)” Ichigo helps you, while your arms have reached his nape from behind.

A single hand is enough for him to guide his dick inside you, shamelessly grazing his friend’s.

“Kurosaki…” Uryu grunts, staying still just enough for his shinigami friend to fit inside.

“Ishida- not now” he grunts, moving you back to the previous position. Both, inside of you, now feels like exploding your overstimulated womb. A womb asking to be blessed by more than one race…

“Guys… please, don’t stop ~” “No worries, (Name)… you are just like our favourite toy”

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife💖

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aloysiavirgata · 24 days

Note

Prompt: candlelight concert, jealousy, ust to msr. Thanks so much, big fan here😊.

It was the kind of hotel where you could have set The Shining if it had any charm or ambiance. It had only desolation to recommend it to Kubrick and storm-downed trees across the lonely highway to recommend it to the X-Files division.

***

It was the kind of hotel you wouldn’t even have an affair at because it was too depressing to be salacious.

It was the kind of hotel where the homeless lived by the week, where alcoholics were subsumed, where mid-level corporate managers in short-sleeved button downs killed themselves. There was cheap wood paneling, shag carpet, and a desk clerk named Rabbit.

Rabbit smelled of Marlboros and Olde English 800. Mulder bet there was an El Camino, lovingly cared for, under a tarp next to a double-wide.

Mulder was a snob at times.

“We got a room each for you and your pretty niece,” Rabbit said, winking at Scully like he was Tom Jones in Vegas. “Unless….?”

Scully slapped down her badge like a royal flush, also in Vegas.

“Room each,” she said, tight-lipped and terse.

Rabbit folded.

***

Mulder found the piano when they were hunting for a laundry room. It was in a forlorn, moth-eaten event hall with swags of sun-faded velour curtains; cobwebs frosted with neglected dust.

He sat down at the decrepit thing, white keys like a smoker’s teeth, and he limbered his fingers. There was a candelabra on the top, a sad object filled with half-melted candles the color of old bones.

Scully lit the candles with the Zippo she’d carried since the Apalachicola National Forest. “You don’t play, Mulder.” She paused, cocked her head. “Or do you? Fox Mulder, do you play the piano too?”

He had the stab of jealousy that he always had about Ed Jerse. Ed got her to ink her body after a few hours, and she didn’t know he’d taken fucking piano lessons from 4 to 17.

He played her Clara Schumann’s Piano Concerto even though he knew she wouldn’t recognize it. He played it because Scully and Clara might have been friends.

Scully’s mouth was a blooming peony as she watched him, eyes the Star of Bethlehem. Scully watched him like oysters watch the tide.

“Agent Scully is already in love,” he heard again, and played as though he were auditioning for Julliard.

***

Scully went to the hallway in the thundering dark. The storm gods had been aroused and the night was such a lonely place, especially by flashlight. A cold Coke would be something to do, at least. Something to roll between her palms.

He thought the same - a Lipton iced tea in hand.

“Hi,” she said, looking abashed. “The thunder was -“

“The storm,” he said, at the same time.

They smiled. They looked away.

There was nothing else, there was nothing, just the shapeless silken lines of her pajamas and the foxy silk of her hair and the smiling Cheshire Cat slice of a waxing moon.

***

The moon was so bright and the universe was so big and forever is a long, long time to be alive and alone.

***

She followed him so she could leave later, he knew that. He’d learned her the way he learned everything - intensely and entirely and in a way that consumed him, piece by piece.

He made love to her like an acolyte at a shrine. He made love to her the way flowers make love to the sun.

Fish do not know they are in water.

***

He felt her stir at 3 AM. “Scully,” he breathed, a prayer hastily invoked.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, I-“

He heard her blushing, somehow, in the dark. He heard the blood rush to her good cheekbones, to her beautiful, lopsided mouth. Her capillaries plumped, lush with hot blood. Everywhere, everywhere.

“Please,” he said. “Scully don’t.”

Scully froze, her shoulder blades tensed, ready to unfurl. Ready to let her fly. “It wasn’t-“

He touched her spine like the Western Wall. He touched her spine like a rosary.

***

She never unmade her hotel bed and she didn’t care who knew it and she knew he was jealous of Ed or maybe Padgett and she was jealous of Diana and possibly Phoebe but Fox Mulder had a mouth like the last ripe plum in October. Fox Mulder kissed her throat like a man in the desert kisses an oasis.

They stayed three nights, for the storm and then the pancakes and then the burnt-orange solitude.

Mulder’s fingers were restless and searching and eternally wanting someplace firm to settle. He kissed her by Bolero and he made love to her by Giazotro and he fucked her to Bizet.

Scully had learned Hot Cross Buns on a keyboard, Scully had learned the recorder in 4th grade. She had learned from Mulder that money can’t buy you happiness, but it can buy opportunities and access and mitigate risk.

She started dressing like she’d been raised with it - silk lingerie and a good stylist and Chanel Brown Sugar lipstick. She saw the way society responded and doubled down. Her heels were high and thin and clicked like distant gunshots.

***

She cupped her hand over his at the steering wheel. He had beautiful hands, the color of graham crackers, with bones from an anatomy text. If she could draw she would draw them, and then his strange mossy eyes and the way his lips kissed themselves.

She would draw his back and she would laugh and say “Fox Mulder, you vain thing.”

And then, because she could, she would drag him on top of her. His body was hot and heavy and dangerous and safe.

***

Her hand cupped his and it was an eggshell, so tiny and pale and fragile. He wanted to kiss her little white knuckles and say I love you, I love you.

He wanted to crush her house-sparrow bones into a powder and drink them.

***

They drove into the east, into the east, and they were tenderly, tremulously, alive

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #my fic #prompt #inbox #nebulous canon of S7 #season 7

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m1ssunderstanding · 3 months

Text

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.4

It's in the paper that Allen Klein was involved in 40+ lawsuits and John doesn't question it? At this point, I feel like he just didn't want to let Paul be right about anything.

My question is who did that work on before? I mean who fucking does business like that? Let alone business with the most successful man in the world.

John's complaining about Paul being too good at his job is both hilarious (what the hell is Paul supposed to do with that) and sad (it shows just how far their musical relationship has degraded from partners to rivals)

How did they lose Northern Songs? Genuinely, if anyone can break it down for me I'd be so grateful. Anyway I'm sure it was devastating for both of them. “Who'd have the children?” “Dick James”.

I know I'm insane, but can I be allowed to see a glimmer of goodness here? I really do think it's John's kinder side winning out when he decides not to lie. Like, yes, he gets a buzz off of watching Paul go white at his words, but I think he also just – in that moment – didn't have the heart to trick Paul into staying.

But also. Why are we trying to maneuver Paul at all if the end game is for John to leave? It just doesn't make sense to try to trick Paul into signing the contract unless John's divorce threat is at the very least not meant to be final.

I will never understand this picture. Even in the emotional state he's in, he's still hamming it up? There is something seriously wrong with this man.

I do find it interesting that the fact that Paul cried his eyes out after that meeting isn't even mentioned in the doc. I wonder why.

Let's put the bizarre, super-warped timeline in this quote aside for a minute. Apparently the depression started after Brian died and it lasted for about two years and John was still in it during Pepper. Okay. That aside . . .

I have to assume this negative lense on what I can only assume means the period between 66 and 68 is highly influenced by hindsight bias. I agree that John was depressed at the time, in an unhappy marriage, doing too much LSD, etc and that looking at Paul's prolific talent and expansive , fast-paced life would have been maddening. But everyone go back to the end of part one really quick. He looks extremely happy. He sounds extremely happy. Everyone who knows him says he's never been happier. I think he just can't accept right now that there was so much good and he's lost it.

“I look from the wings at the play you are staging . . . I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love.”

Insanity quote Hall of Fame. Paul explaining why the Beatles just had to break up, obviously, because he and John "didn't marry the same girl." Someone write the fic where John and Paul both marry the same girl. Could be Yoko or Linda. Sister trad wives au.

Okay, cool, so this means I have full permission to interpret and tin hat about any lyrics I want then, right?

But also. Are we just not going to talk about the fact that Paul dumped a bucket of garbage water and punched this person? And are we not mentioning the depression and alcoholism and heroin abuse during this time?

It's so embarrassing how he looks to her for confirmation here. John, they asked you what you think. Just you. Not some complicated definition. Not Yoko's definition. Just your own thoughts.

“I couldn't wait for them to make up their mind about peace or whatever. About committing themselves.” Yeah, John. You sound real committed to peace. Or whatever. Here's a theory that anyone can shoot down if they want: John asked Paul for some kind of commitment (a friendship wedding, a partnership contract, a mutual wanking pledge) in India and Paul was a chicken about it.

What was that day like, I wonder? I imagine extremely stiff and professional and horrid. But who knows. Maybe it was nice, and maybe that made everything worse.

I will go to my death believing that instant karma was for Paul.

Do we think John actually did send Paul “about twenty postcards from Denmark” all covered in hearts none of which Paul responded to? Paul could be just as cruel in his lack of reaction as John was in his over reaction.

I'm sorry but that is not what a man says when he's just lying to the press to buy time for business. That's what a man says to the press when he's trying desperately to communicate with someone who he can't get through to any other way.

But really, I just don't understand why the creator chose to minimize Paul's emotional response to John's divorce statement. If we don't see him bawling his eyes out and losing the will to live, he comes off like a self-assured, uncaring, jerk. Which. To be fair. John didn't see those things, and that is exactly what John thought of Paul during this time. But still. The audience now comes away from this doc with a skewed view.

All we get is Paul being pissed off about Phil Spector butchering Let it Be without his consent and John and George trying to change McCartney's release date without his consent. Which are both a) understandable and b) strong, male, angry reactions. Making this section portray Paul in the same one-dimensional hyper-masculine way that John so often is. Which isn't my favorite. But hey, it's my only complaint about this doc so far.

Anyway, update: I won't be able to do part three until it gets reuploaded, so we're on hiatus for this project for the time being.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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babiebom · 4 months

Note

Hey! I’ve been into SDV for a while know and I found your profile and it’s absolutely amazing! Your headcanons are so accurate and your writing is so smooth! I love it all! I saw that you take requests, so could you do headcanons for Stardew Valley Bachelors and Bachelorettes reactions when they find out that the farmer has a prosthetic leg?

(Love your work💗💗)

A/N: thank you for enjoying my work!! I try my best to write everyone in a way that I think is accurate so it feels good when people say that they think it is. Again if anything is offensive or wrong let me know!!!

Tw: some cursing, maybe some mean things/judgement/ableism because let’s face it not everyone is nice, a person without a prosthetic writing about it. let me know if anything else should be tagged!

Bc: at least 5 for each!! Some are shorter than others!

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian

I feel like Sebastian would try to act normal about it but would be like….

Hmm okay

I don’t think he would react outwardly

He would try to keep things inside

And I don’t think he’s ableist

But he would be like

OMGOMGOMGOMG in his mind

He wouldn’t ask questions either

He’d just act like everything is fine when in reality he’s now panicking like……..

Is he supposed to act different? He doesn’t think so? Is that rude?

Is terrified of losing you and doesn’t want to mess anything up.

When he does ask about it tries to do it in the most non offending way possible.

Because he is curious about it

I don’t think anyone else in the valley has prosthetics

So he does want to know everything

He’s really nosy tbh

But acts all emo and as if he isn’t and that he doesn’t care

If you wanna ever talk about it I think you would have to bring it up first

Sam

OH COOL ya know *insert some random thing*

He wouldn’t be all “omg I didn’t know I’m so sorry” about it

I think he’s similar to Emily in this

In that it doesn’t really change his view of you

Would probably say offensive things though

Like on accident and because his mind is coming up with dumb questions and he has no impulse control when it comes to his mouth

Would ask if you could be like a pirate

Or ask if it means you can skateboard better than him

Would probably give you a kinda offensive nickname

But again hes doesn’t mean to be stupid about it

DOES change his tune if you don’t like it

Would never want to continue doing something that you actively dislike

Does ask every question that is on his mind

I feel like rather than the others he’s much more comfy with you

So doesn’t hesitate to ask about anything he lacks knowledge on

Shane

Depending on where you are in your relationship he has different moods

Like if he hasn’t opened up and is still depressed and an alcoholic he would be VERY pessimistic about it

Would probably get your spirits down

Would also probably say VERY offensive things in his melancholy state

Would say sorry only after you say that he’s being rude about it

If it’s after he gets help no matter if you’re dating or not he’s still like…

Oof

About it

Y’know? But he wouldn’t be an asshole either he’d just be like

Are you okay? About it if it makes sense?

Like it’s not an omg are you okay it’s more of a how are you feeling about it way

Like no matter if you’ve had the prosthetic forever or got it more recently his question is the same

How do you feel about it?

Does really care about your thoughts

I do think with him you’d have more deeper conversations than with anyone else other than maybe Harvey

Alex

While I don’t think he’s very judgmental on purpose

He probably would say some rude things

Or react in a rude way

Maybe thoughtless is the right word?

Like he isn’t going to be mean or anything

But he will say something like “oh like a pirate or something!”

And you’d be like “??????sure I guess….?”

Would want to swing your prosthetic leg around for shits and giggles

Understands that it’s expensive to get proper prosthetics but it’s in the back of his mind

Wouldn’t really treat you any differently unless it’s something that he thinks could hurt you

Even if you can do it alone

He’s like “NONO let me do it!!”

I don’t know what type of person you are but I know that’s either a relief so you only have to do easy things or it’s annoying because you’re perfectly able to do things on your own.

Is always impressed that you can do your farming duties.

Like it’s sorta ableist?

Like he’s a little confused but he has the spirit type of thing

Harvey

His first thought would be

Damn how good is your insurance

Or if you had to pay out of pocket for it

Is a doctor after all

I think he’d be curious in a doctor way

Because again I don’t think anyone else in the valley has a prosthetic (Sadge bc diversity is cool)

So he hasn’t really seen them that often

Would probably be very intrusive if you two are close

Would also back off if you weren’t okay with it

Does however become very….worried? About you

I don’t think worried is the right word

But would remind you to take breaks more often than he would a farmer without one (and even then it’s pretty often)

Like a mother kinda

Is kinda ableist but doesn’t realize because he thinks it’s just his doctor side

Again will stop if you want him to

Would absolutely have some interesting facts about prosthetics

Elliott

Would try to be poetic about it

And it’s either very cringy or cute based on hope you think of him

Would probably try to write a book or story or poem or something about a character with a prosthetic

Does get a lot of things wrong with the facts but tries

Because you are his muse

And his characters reflect you even if he won’t admit is until you’re closer enough

Might change something’s up about it though so it’s not exactly you

Just in case you hate it so he could be like “nononono this character has a DIFFERENT prosthetic hehe”

I do think he’s ableist but again like the others not in a judgemental kind of way just…..uninformed

Will listen if you try to teach him

Will also fight anyone who has anything to say about it

Haley

Depending on where you are in your relationship makes her reaction different

Like before she opens up I think she’d have a mean girl type of reaction

Like she’d make a face and everything and ask rude questions.

Like it would genuinely either make you mad or make you feel bad

She’d be like “WHAT THE HELL??”

And you’d be like “tf???? Are you okay?”

She’s ask VERY personal questions

Partly because she’s curious and partly because she has to make fun of you by being a bitch

But if you’re closer when she finds out she’s just like…

Taken aback and like oof but that’s the extent to it

I think if you’re closer she’d be too scared to ask any questions because while she gives no fucks she likes you

Whether it be in a romantic or platonic way

And she doesn’t want to push you away or anything

So she won’t really comment on it other than being like “oh….okay….”

Will fight anyone who says something about it though

Like even if they’re asking a valid question or something she’s like “ABSOLUTELY NOT”

Emily

Doesn’t react at all other than being like oh cool!

Honestly I don’t think she would think anything different of you, or even think that anything has changed now that she knows

Like you have always been the person that she knows and your limbs being different doesn’t mean anything because why would it?

Does make you cute accessories for it if you allow it though

Makes covers, will bedazzle it, literally whatever you want.

I think out of all of the bachelors and bachelorettes she would be the one to make it the least weird.

Like the others would either ask really insensitive questions or act weird about it

She’s like <3 yeah okay anyways do you wanna see this dance I’ve been practicing?

Like sorry I don’t have many headcanons for her she’s just….normal when it comes to things that other people would deem weird(not to be ableist I hope you know what I mean by this bc people are asses)

Penny

VERY ABLEIST

But again not in a judgy way

She just….

She means well but it’s kinda annoying if you don’t want help

Just like how she shoves George’s wheelchair out of the way at the mailbox to help him

It’s like first you should ASK if someone wants help

And second helping isn’t always what you think it is

Would help you without asking if you want it

Acts like she just is so much stronger or whatever

Is VERY embarrassed after you talk to her about it

Might try to argue back that she was just helping

But ultimately realizes that she was kinda overstepping

Just wants to make things easier for you

Abigail

Would think it’s cool

Asks dumb questions like if it gives you an advantage over anything that others wouldn’t think about

Forgets about it half the time tbh

Like it doesn’t matter to her

And thankfully she has make herself her own person outside of Pierre’s beliefs bc child her would’ve been mean

But she does think it’s cool and like the others has a million different questions

Asks them nonstop

Also like Alex asks if she can use it as a weapon

Sometimes offensive but not often I don’t think

Would probably say some bullshit like you’re part robot or something

Again depending on how you feel she either keeps up this joke with you.

Or lets it die out

Cooler than most about it

Leah

I think she’s one of the ones that doesn’t react

Because she’s lived in the city

I think she has come across a couple people with different kinds of prosthetics

So she isn’t like the others with a million questions or anything

It’s much more normalized for her that she doesn’t really comment or question it

Will ask if she could create one for you out of wood just to see if she can

Also one of the ones that would knock a bitch out for coming at you in a rude way

Would probably have a “yeah and?” Reaction if you wanted her to actually react

Like it doesn’t change anything at all for her.

Maru

Would be stoked

But in a science type of way

Would also wanna see if she could make you a new one

Unlike Leah though Maru would probably be a bit offensive

Mostly because I don’t think she understands social norms or anything

So she would ask things that would be unamusing and uncomfortable for you because she really just….

Doesn’t understand that there’s things that you shouldn’t say or do

Is overwhelmingly positive though

Like tries VERY hard to get you to understand that nothing has changed for her

Is a little annoying about it but just really wants you to know that she likes or loves you no matter what

Would probably have some interesting facts about prosthetics as well

112 notes · View notes

kurooandkenmasslut · 8 months

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄... 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃.

𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐅!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warning!: contains mugen train spoilers! Character death, gore, blood, fluff, mention of alcohol (mentioned only a few times) & depression. This isn't accurate, so I used my own words and changed it a lot, so please understand. Two endings!

'...' ɪᴛᴀʟɪᴄ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sᴇʟғ ɪʟʟ ᴜsᴇ ɪᴛᴀʟɪᴄ sᴏ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴇᴛs ᴄᴏɴғᴜsᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ!! 💓

Sorry if there's any mistakes!

7390 words!

You were the tenth hashira. The Wisteria Pillar to be exact. You were proposed to by Kyojuro Rengoku. And you were planning your wedding.

Kyojuro had been called for a mission, apprently, according to his crow, many people had been seen entering the train, but never coming back out. They had sent out demon slayers, but none of them came back either.

"(Name)! Do you wanna accompany me on a mission?" "Oh sure! When are we leaving?" "about hmm... Less than an hour, but I wanna visit Senjuro and my father before I leave! Do you also wanna come with me?" "Of course! Your brother is adorable!" you laughed and so did he.

After your short journey to the Flame estate, you caught sight of Senjuro outside, sweeping. "Hey Senjuro!" you yelled, making Senjuro look up and wave with a shy smile on his face. Kyojuro smiled at his younger brother's shyness. Senjuro then jumped in Kyojuro's arms and swung him playfully, making you all laugh.

"Do you two want something to eat? I was already making lunch for Father and I think I might have gone overboard with the cooking because I had so much food and I don't think he and I could eat it all by ourselves!" he said, scratching the nape of his neck in embarrassment, but you only grinned. "Of course! Your cooking is amazing, I don't think I could ever decline your cooking, Senjuro!" Kyojuro cheered, and you only nodded in agreement.

There was laughing, the crunching of the food, and the happy era in the room. "I'm going to say goodbye to Father before I go, be right back!" Kyojuro smiled. He walked confidently down the hallway where Shinjuro, His father's room door was in front of him. He knocked before waiting a few seconds and then walking in. Shinjuro was sitting out at the Engawa, a bottle of sake in his rough hands. Ever since his mother, Ruka, a loving mother who cared for her three boys, caught an untreatable illness and unfortunately passed away, leaving Shinjuro in a state of shock and rage, it seemed to keep his sadness at bay, had could drink them away.

That was until Kyojuro caught sight of the clock and immediately stood up. "it seems that (name) and I have to go unless we're gonna be late for the train!" he exclaimed playfully ruffling Senjuro's hair. He drank the rest of his water before setting it back on the table.

"wait! I'll walk you two to the gate!" and so he did. "Senjuro, lunch was lovely! I really hope sometime we get another chance to have some more time with you! You also need to tell me your recipe for that onigiri." You said, Senjuro blushing at the compliment and nodding confidently.

Kyojuro held your hand as you bid your goodbyes before Kyojuro and you ran to the station where the train sat. You merely made it in time as you and Kyojuro stepped onto the train.

You sat down and Kyojuro sat across from you, he sat with his arms crossed with a big smile on his face. You started to talk but was interrupted by a waiter on the train, asking if you wanted something to eat, to which you nodded and so did Kyojuro. It will be a long journey after all.

"Umai!" munch.. "Umai!" munch.. "is that really the flame hashira?" "he looks like an idiot." "inosuke! That's rude! And zenitsu, it is. He looks like an admirable person."

"u-um... Mr. Rengoku?" "Umai!" "Kyojuro! Someone is calling you! It's the boy with the demon sister!" You said, lightly hitting him on the arm to get his attention. He turned his head towards the three boys. "Ah yes! Kamado, my boy! Come sit here!" He grinned patting the seat next to him and Tanjiro nodded and sat next to him.

"Kyaaaaa!! A pretty lady is in the same place as meeee!! Can you please marry meee?! I don't wanna die alone!!!!" Zenitsu cried, clinging his arms around your waist. You looked away in awkwardness. You felt Kyojuros burning gaze on you, so you adverted your eyes to him, his smile dropped a bit, eyes looking stern.

Could he be.. Jealous? The thought made you laugh, and Kyojuro's stern face was replaced with happiness and love when he saw you laugh.

"That's my fiancé, Yellow boy." "WHAAATTT?! I... YOU... HOW?! EEEEHHHH!? NEZUKO-CHAN!! SAVE ME!!" "Zenitsu, stop it."

"Come and fight me!!" "Settle down now, pig boy." "I AM NOT A PIG!! I AM KING INOSUKE!" "You are so embarrassing Inosuke!" "Shut up monitsu!" You sighed and shoved the two boys onto a seat on their own, tired of their behaviour already.

Kyojuro and Tanjiro we're talking amongst themselves, something about breathing styles. While you looked over at the boys to check on them, but regretted it when you saw Inosuke trying to stick his head out the window and Zenitsu trying to hold him back, calling Tanjiro for help.

The ticket man came around looking for people's tickets. As he came to you, the once happy space had now become a dark, gloomy era. You noticed his appearance, he had very dark eye bags under his eyes, and his eyes were blank. You reluctantly gave him your ticket, your suspicion raising, and it seemed like Kyojuro had the same. You stared at the lively smile he gave the man, just admiring his beauty. It's funny how the other hashiras call you both 'love birds.'

The click of the ticket removed you from your trance. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that blasted through your head.

A few minutes passed and you felt sudden drowsiness, your eyes struggling to stay open. You thought it was weird, but didn't think much of it since you hadn't got much sleep in a while.

You opened your eyes only to be big green eyes starting back at you. Feeling a little frightened, you let out a squeal, before the person jumped up, but then you noticed it was the Love Hashira, Mitsuri Kanroji, also known as your best friend.

"(Name)! (Name)! Get up! Get up!" She squealed, shaking you by the shoulders a bit too hard. "Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong?! Is it a demon?!" You yelled, ready to get up and grab your sword to fight in your pajamas if you must. "It's your- a demon?! Are you silly?! Today is your big day!" "Mitsuri-Chan, I'll handle it." you heard a voice say, and Mitsuri stopped shaking you.

Shinobu Kocho, The insect Hashira, also known as your best friend, along with Mitsuri stepped out and helped you out of bed.

"What's happening?" You asked confusion on your face. "You're getting married to Rengoku-San, remember?" She asked, her thin eyebrows furrowing. You widened your eyes and started pacing around the room.

"but I need a dress! What ifidontlookgoodandhesaysnoatthevowsandrunsaway-" "(name)!"

After many almost mental breakdowns, you finally got your dress on, Suma and Makio & Hinatsuru Uzui worked on your makeup, and damn, they made you feel like a goddess. Mitsuri, Shinobu, Aoi, and the three butterfly girls worked on your dress compartment as your dress processes some errors while they fixed them. Nezuko popped up with small flowers in her hands, putting them into your hair beautifully. Kanao then came, placing a small butterfly clip in your hair. You then cooed, almost crying because of their cuteness.

But to your surprise, a familiar head peaked in, almost making you sob and ruin your makeup.

Your family passed a few years back, and you've just finally faced reality to accept it, but all the years you've survived without them, but as soon as you saw her face, you felt the need to be with them again.

"Oh my sweet baby... (Name)... You look gorgeous.. Oh my dear, don't cry!" Your mother cooed, smiling at your face.

The ladies then finished your look, which you squealed at and hugged them all. Mitsuri then had to hold back her tears, she felt so happy for you that she started crying, and soon enough, your mother joined in, claiming that you "grew up so fast."

𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞...

"Oh come on Kyojuro! Don't be so nervous, it'll be alright man." Tengen laughed at his best buddy's face. Kyojuro kept worrying about his hair, and constantly asking him if he looked alright, but tengen only laughed and nodded in response.

"Hisssss..." "Yeah, I wonder how Mitsuri looks as well. I'm she she'll be as stunning as always." "Are you talking to a... Snake? What the fuck." "Shut the fuck up Shinazugawa. Mind your own business." "Obanai, Shinazugawa. Do not fight on this special, holy day." "I agree. It's a special day for Rengoku-san and L/n-san." "Shut up Tomioka. Nobody asked for your opinion." "I simply said that do not fight on Rengoku and L/n's special day. There is no reason to get upset." "What the fuck? I'm out of here." Sanemi said, storming out of the room.

"Why am I here again..." "To celebrate Rengoku-san and L/n's wedding, Tokito." "What's a wedding... And who's Rengoku and L/n..." "Nevermind, Tokito. We must go now." "Go where?" "Just follow me, boy."

The flower girls were up, Which was the three butterfly triplets. Sumi, Naho, Kiyo throwing petals on the floor. Some people cooed at their cuteness.

It was time for you to walk up to your soon to be husband, holding your fathers arm as he smiled at you gently, he was a little emotional about today since his daughter was getting married, which made you giggle. It felt like a dream come true to you, honestly.

But then you finally looked up at him. He looked so, so, so good. His hair was in his usual, small ponytail, hair still on his shoulders, Swiftly blowing in the wind, You blushed. He looked at you, in shock, a warm blush complimenting his lovely face. He quickly came back to his loving smile, his hands getting a bit clammy, going over his vows in his head while trying to look at his soon to be wife. You noticed that his other two family members, Shinjuro, His father, and Senjuro, his sweet little brother looking at you with a gentle smile on his face, his eyes almost telling you run up there and say 'I do!'

Then you saw all the male hashiras by his side, Tengen, Gyomei, Obanai, Giyuu, Sanemi & Muichiro. Most of them looked like they didn't wanna be here, except Gyomei and Tengen, while sanemi looked at the bush at the side, giyuu staring into space, obanai staring at Mitsuri, wishing that it was him and her and Muichiro looking at the clouds, slowly floating past in the bright blue sky.

You finally made it to where Kyojuro was standing, your sandals making a small 'click' due to the added platform. (im trying to say heels but in a sadal way?)

While the priest was talking, you tried to quickly glance at the wedding setting but your (e/c) eyes caught something.

Your wedding setting plan was a lovely garden, greenery everywhere, ponds and lakes everywhere, flowers growing in the perfect spots.

But the thing that caught your eye was.. Someone was in the pond? It almost looked like you, but you ignored it, looking at your husband, thinking it was just your imagination.

You both then said your vows, making you giggle as yiu recall the times you spent together, leading up to this moment. He then said his vows, a smile on his face.

The priest then turned over to you.

"Miss L/n, do accept Mr Rengoku Kyojuro as your loving husband?" He asked you.

"I do."

"Mr Rengoku Kyojuro, do you accept Miss L/n as your loving wife?"

"I do!" Kyojyro said enthusiastically, making everyone laugh.

"Any objections?"

....... ....... .......

"You may kiss the bride." after he said that, kuojuro pounced. He grabbed your waist and leaned into your lips, you then wrapping your arms around his neck, screams and yells booming through the air. Screams mixed with Mitsuri and the girls and your parents and yells mixed with Tengen, Shinjuro and Senjuro.

After the kiss, he started twirling you around, laughing loudly, making you squeal in delight and shock.

"Why hello there, Mrs. Rengoku!" Kyojuro said and kissed your cheek. You booped his nose. "Hello there, Mr. Rengoku~!" "Okay, Okay we get it lovebirds."

Tengen then grabbed Kyojuro. "Mind if I take him for a bit?" "Nope! I don't mind!" You said, smiling and Tengen dragged him over somewhere.

You then saw fish jumping over at the pond, so you decided to take a closer look. You then kneeled on the grass, but made sure the dirt didn't stain your dress. You then looked at your reflection.

"This doesn't feel real.." you mumbled. You could of sworn that you were on the Mugen Train, sitting with Kyojuro and the Kamaboko Squad. As you thought you didn't realise a face starting back at you, but it wasnt just any face, it was your face. You jumped, today was feeling odd, and now this was feeling very strange.

You then realised that... You.. In the water, was trying to say something, so you looked closer to hear what you were saying, only for your arms to get your actual arms and pull you into the pond. Feeling panicked, you tried to swim back up but you held a deathly grip.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" You screamed, bubbles forming around your mouth. You then disappeared somewhere into the water, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

'Wake up? Wake up? From what? From what?!'

"THE BRIDE HAS FALLEN INRO THE POND! SOOMEONE HELP HER! SHE ISNT COMING UP!" Someone screamed, and you felt a rush of hands trying to grip your arm, but no luck. You weren't thinking straight. 'Wake up? I'm so confused! Is this... All a dream?..'

"I'LL GET HER!!" Someone else yelled before you heard a big splash of water and someone pulling you up. As your head finally got above the water, you suddenly needed air, so you took big gasps of it.

The person who you recognized is your now husband, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay my dear? You need to be more careful." Kyojuro mumbled and you nodded and hugged him. You were so confused, one moment you were on the Mugen Train and now your at your future wedding with Kyojuro? This has to be a dream.

You then excused yourself to the bathroom, looking yourself in the mirror, trying to process what just happened.

You then saw your blade in the corner, in your eyes, it's almost glimmering, as if it's the only thing you see in the room. You squinted your eyes and walked over to it. You picked it up, unsheathing the sword from the case.

Suddenly, multiple voices in your head started swarming in your head. Whispering and muttering "𝐂𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊." "𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐏𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊."

Panting, you hands shakily brought the sword up to your neck, closing your eyes shut.

'maybe, maybe, it will get me out of this dream, as much as I wanna stay, I have to get back to reality, especially since I'm vulnerable asleep.' she thought, you clenched the sword and screamed, swiping the sword against your neck.

Your body collapsed on the bathroom floor, unknown to you, someone heard your scream, and came rushing in, collapsing himself at the sight of your dead body on the floor.

But in reality however, you snapped your eyes open, and the first thing you see is some purple things on the train ceiling, making you jump and get into action, quickly slicing it. But to your surprise however, it was consuming the whole train, whatever it was. You noticed Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Nezuko and Kyojuro disappear, making you worry a bit.

You ran, slicing the purple guts that went into your way within a second. Slamming the door open with a bang, you saw your firey fiancee using his Flame breathing on a demon, making you sigh in relief. As you looked around, you noticed that everyone was asleep, so you suspected that the demon's ability was to make someone's dream come true and never wake again to the real world.

Kyojuro seemed to notice you after he finished the demon. "(Name)! It seems you have awoken, to my relief. Are you alright?!" He yelled and sped walked over to you, cradling your face in his hand, while his other on held his sword. You smiled and held the hand touching your face.

"I'm fine Kyojuro. Are you alright though?" You asked softly, wiping the small droplets from the demons blood on his face.

Kyojuro did his signature smile and kissed your cheek. "Of course I am! Now, let us defeat this demon and go home! I am looking forward to stay home with you after this is over! Do you wanna go to the festival after this actually? I promise it this time!" He said, the last time he said that he had to go to a mission when you two just got ready, making you sulk. You giggled and shook your head.

"I'll take care of the two cars while you take the other two!" Kyojuro yelled and you nodded, you two separating once again.

Soon enough, Tanjiro and the others defeated the main body of the demon, but after they did, the train tipped over, but none of the 200 passengers were killed. When the train tipped over, people's heavy luggage and belongings toppled over you, making you bang your head aggressively on the wall, making you fall unconscious with a bleeding head and some small bruises on your body.

When you opened your eyes again, your vision was hazy, seeing the moon shining down on you. Your ears started ringing and you closed your eyes as a headache started forming. When you opened your eyes again, you saw a pair of firey eyes starting back into yours, making you yelp, but realising it's Kyojuro's.

"Are you alright honey?" He asked softly getting on his knees and bandaging your head with the bandages from his haori.

You managed to mumble a 'yes'. But his warming presence didn't last long.

The mist and smoke from the train was still in the air, making it foggy, but you could somehow manage to spot a figure, aiming towards... Tanjiro?!

You tried getting up and aiming for the demon that was heading to tanjiro, but it seems Kyojuro had gotten to him first. The demon quickly recoiled, licking the blood of his arm as it regenerated in a blink of an eye. You wondered, why it regenerate so quickly? Not even a lower rank demon can regenerate that fast.

"Nice blade you got there." The demon spoke, opening his honey-coloured eyes. He had long eyelashes. You were shaken to the bone as you read his eyes. The writing in his eyes read...

Ʉ₱₱ɆⱤ₥ØØ₦ ₮ⱧⱤɆɆ

U..uppermoon three? Kyojuro was incredibly strong and fast, but this is uppermoon three, no human has survived him, ever. But you prayed that he would be okay.

"My name is Akaza, uppermoon three, what's yours?" "Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira."

"Oh! A hashira? This is getting exciting! Not to mention, A flame hashira, I think I've killed a few!" Right after he said that, you could tell Kyojuro tensed, grabbing his sword in front of him more tighter, much after he did before.

Kyojuro saw Akaza's eyes flicker to you, so we started moving in front of you, blocking Akaza's vision of you.

"I assume she's a hashira aswell. You two sure look like the perfect couple, are you perhaps married?" Akaza asked, and Kyojuro tensed even more. If he didn't answer, it's only longer to get this over with.

"Yes, soon to be." "ah, I see." Kyojuro's eyes narrowed at him, gritting his teeth slightly. Akaza put his hands up in defence.

"don't you worry there bud. I don't eat or hurt women." That assured him, a bit, but that doesnt mean he'll go off guard when he comes close to you.

"Why don't you become a demon, Kyojuro? You look incredibly strong. Instead of having this one battle once, we could have it multiple times! That is, if you become a demon of course. You could train and live for a hundred years! No, two hundred years! You're strong enough to be an uppermoon, I can tell clearly. Now come on! Be a demon Kyojuro! Why live in this human form when you can be a demon and live forever?!"

"Because dying is life. It happens to all of us, you must treasure life before it ends. And that's what i'm gonna do. I have friends, and I've got family waiting for me home, and I have my soon-to-be wife fighting along side me, battling evil creatures like you. So, I decline your offer. If I die tonight, I will be remembered as a human who refuses to be a demon!" He yelled, getting passionate and angryier by the minute, making Akaza smirk and get in position.

Akaza dug his feet onto the ground, making it crack and break under him as he muttered his blood demon art.

"Technique development... Destructive Death: Compass Needle!" Akaza yelled, a snowflake shape under him, running straight and fast at Kyojuro.

And so, the battle began. You could hear the clashes of Kyojuros sword and the grunts coming out of his mouth. You narrowed your eyes, starting to get up, and it seems Tanjiro had the same idea.

"Kamado, (Name)! Don't get up! Your wounds will reopen and there is a high- chance of you bleeding to death! Let me handle this!" He yelled, focused on the battle before him. You looked at your surroundings. Zenitsu was lying there, unconscious, and you hoped it would stay that way, he was a very emotional boy and if he found out the situation he was in, he would start panicking and screaming, making your headache worse.

Tanjiro looked lost, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know if he should listen to Kyojuro, or if he should help him. I put my hand on his shoulder, giving him the best reassuringly smile you could pull, giving him a look 'leave him be.'

You heard Inosuke in the distance, yelling something about the ticket man under the train. Apparently, the man had stabbed Tanjiro with some sort of weapon. You knew he looked suspicious. Tanjiro replied, telling him to help him, Inosuke grunting and grumbling in response.

Your (e/c) eyes followed the fight again, trying to make out the figures. You head loud clashing of swords, making your eyebrows furrow as worry had made onto your features. You clenched your hand around the hilt of your sword, if Kyojuro ever turned his head and gave you the go ahead to join in, but he never did.

The sounds stopped and you heard Kyojuro panting. Your eyes managed to look to his face, blood was dripping down his mouth, blood dripping onto his forehead, and he seems to have crushed his eye badly. You quietly gasped at his wounds, feeling the urge to run at him and take him away, before he got killed. But you knew better. Kyojuro never, never, ever, ran away from his missions, nor the scariest demon, he always fight back, never backing down. He would never run away.

"Kyojuro! Become a demon! You are in the verge of dying, if you become a demon now, you will be healed within a blink of an eye! Don't go dying now! That's pathetic!" Akaza yelled, veins popping out of his face.

"I... I refuse... I refuse to become a demon! I would never... Become murderer, killer, ugly creature like you!" Kyojuro yelled, blood dripping down on the right side of his face now. The more blood he shed, the more you worried. The attacks never stopped, the two never stopped for a moment.

"let's fight more. Don't die on me, Kyojuro!" Akaza yelled, now frowning as Kyojuro's blood dripped onto the ground.

The two were a few meters apart, and Kyojuro was panting. He then pushed his foot back, the dust lifting from the movement.

It was as if his body lit into flames, his haori was blowing in the wind. The flames stopped, and Kyojuro swung his sword over his shoulder, his two hands on his sword.

"Set your heart ablaze, go beyond your limits."

"I will fulfil my duty! I will not let anyone here die!" He yelled, his eyes bursting with flames, determined to finish him. His face was covered in blood, yet, he still wore his signature smile. You only wished for him to be okay.

"Flame breathing... Esoteric Art!" He yelled, his thick eyebrows furrowing in anger and focusing on Akaza, his smiling dropping for once. Kyojuro's sword lit up in flames. Akaza seemed shaken and had a look of disbelief on his face.

"what a tremendous fighting spirit!" Akaza gasped, giving his evil and mischievous smile.

"You have to become a demon after all, Kyojuro!" Akaza grit his teeth in excitement.

Tanjiro looked at you worriedly, clutching your hand to bring you some sort of comfort.

"𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.. 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌... 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔!" Kyojuro cried out, grasping his sword tighter then he did. The ground shook underneath him, and he lunged at Akaza, who was wearing a smile. He preformed his blood demon art, and the two collided.

You could hear yelling, blood gushing, Akaza's laughing, the both of them yelling. You covered your mouth, as you hoped for the best. A cloud of dust formed everywhere, and ground stilled.

The dust was fading away, slowly uncovering the scene before you.

The sight was the sight you never wanted to see in your life. All you wanted was to go home, hand-in-hand with your lover, not scratch on him and prepare your upcoming wedding. Was that too much to ask for?

Akaza's arm... Was impaled in Kyojuro's stomach. Blood dripped from Kyojuro's mouth, his white teeth stained with his own red blood.

You gasped, your whole body shook, your brain went blank, and big salty tears were already sliding down your face. Your voice was stuck in your throat, only sounds of disbelief and sadness groans coming out. Tanjiro grasped at the dirt beneath him, struggling to get up. Inosuke stood there, baffled at the scene before him, he didn't know what to do.

"Say that you'll become a demon Kyojuro!" Akaza shouted, his arm and the gashes had already regenerated while Kyojuro's was permanent.

Before Akaza spoke another word, Kyojuro gritted his teeth and aimed his sword at Akaza's neck. The demon groaned out in pain as Kyojuro dig his sword deeper into his neck, yelling in fury.

Akaza got his other hand and aimed it at Kyojuro's face, but luckily, Kyojuro stopped it with his other hand.

'he stopped it?!' Akaza thought, his eyes bulging in anger.

The veins popping out of their heads. They both screamed out in pain, and anger. Kyojuro digging his sword deeper while Akaza still had his hand in his stomach and trying to fight off Kyojuro.

'Damn! It'll be daybreak soon! I have to kill him and get out of here! I have to get out of here!'

"Out of my way!!" Akaza shouted, ripping his hand out of Kyojuro's grip and tearing out his hand from his stomach, leaving his sword stuck in his neck and hands ripped off him.

'I have to find refuge from the sunlight!' Akaza thought, fleeing from the sun and into the dark forest. Tanjiro was quick to get up and follow him.

"Tanjiro!"

He unshealted his sword, using his breathing to throw it at the pink-haired demon deep in the back.

"don't run away, you coward! Don't run away!"

'i'm not running from you, im running from the sun!'

"don't run away, you bastard! You bastard! You coward!" Tanjiro cried out, tears running down his cheeks. Your vision was blurry and you were unable to move. But you eventually wanted, no, needed to go to Kyojuro.

"Kyojuro!!" You screamed, wobbling over to him. You felt heartbroken that you lost most of your strength, almost like a half of you is fading.

Tanjiro limped over to you two as tears came down his face.

"Kamado, my young boy. I have high hopes for you and and your sister, I wish you two well. I hope that your sister turns human soon. The breathings we were talking about... I believe my father has a book of the type of breathing you seek. Go to the Rengoku residence, I'm sure my brother can guide you. Remember, set your heart ablaze, go beyond your limits. I believe in you." He managed to murmur out, turning his gaze to you.

"Ah, (name)... I'm.. I'm sorry. I wasn't able to make you happy, I wasn't able to make you my wife in time. I love you so, so much. After I die, I want you to never forget me, but... Find love... In another person.. I don't want you crying over my death..." "Kyojuro..." "(Name), Make sure father is okay, don't let him drink too much, and comfort Senjuro. He's too young to experience this.. I love you. I must see my mother soon...I... I think I see her... I don't think it's possible for me to live, again, i'm... Sorry. It was not... Meant to be this way." He said, whispering the last part as his life was being taken, slowly in front of your eyes.

He began to look behind you and Tanjiro, his eyes widening, and his mouth curling onto a smile. He must of seen his mother.

"Kyojuro... I love you so much, don't ever forget that, 𝐦𝐲... 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐭𝐨-𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝."

"I love you too, 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐭𝐨-𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

"Good morning Kyojuro... It's a lovely morning, isn't it? I'm sure you would love it as much as I love it. We miss you, honey. I miss you. Maybe in another life, we could have our happy ending. I guess fate just didn't wish for us to be together." You murmured, placing flowers on the grave.

"Shinjuro-san has changed after what had happened, he has stopped his drinking habits and has opened up to me a little. Senjuro-san is also starting to heal, but very slowly. He misses you very much, my love. Tanjiro-kun and the others are working very hard. They are currently staying at the butterfly estate."

"I don't know how much I can take without being with you. I haven't taken my ring off at all. Everything has reminded me of you, Kyojuro." You weeped, covering your face.

"𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞."

"I love you too, My husband."

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐖𝐎!

∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇ ∇

"Kyojuro! I..i'll help you!" You yelled and Kyojuro widened his eyes. You were one of the fastest hashira. Trying your best not to hurt him, you carried Kyojuro in your arms while you yelled at Tanjiro on what to do.

"Tanjiro-Kun! I'll get Kyojuro to help! Make sure you and everyone else is safe and check for any injuries!" You yelled, focusing on getting Kyojuro the medical help. You knew the kakushi's would come eventually, but by that time, it would be too late. So your legs sped faster then ever.

You went to the nearest hospital in the town. People stared at you weirdly. First, the man is in the woman's arms and second, Kyojuro is on the verge of death, and third, you both have swords. But did you care? Of course not, you only cared about Kyojuro.

Luckily, the best doctors there were available and got to work immediately. You sent your crow to the group of boys to see what's happening on their end. Kakushi's probably landed by now.

You sat in the waiting room, waiting for the white door to be opened. You didn't even have to appetite to eat and your leg constantly jumped on nervousment. Due to the nevousment and the lack of sleep you've gotten, you eventually fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

"Miss? Ma'am? Can you wake up please?" The nurse spoke, shaking you softly. You blinked your eyes opened repeatedly, still half asleep. You wanted to go to sleep, closing your eyes again in tiredness.

Realizing your surroundings and why your here, you shot up.

"K-Kyojuro! Is he okay? Is my husband okay?!" "Oh uhm, yes Mrs, He is okay. His eye got crushed, so we wrapped bandages around the eye. His ribs and fingers are broken. And obviously, the hole in his abdomen was deep. It might take a long time to fully heal. You are lucky you got here fast enough, or else we couldn't have saved him."

"M-May I see him?" "You may. He is currently resting and I may inform you not to wake him up. He had struggled not sleeping next to 'Y/n' he said." your eyes softened at what she said. Oh, how you adore him.

You sped to his door, not bothering knocking in case he'd wake up. The state he was in, was bad. He was covered in bandages all over, especially his abdomen.

You couldn't help yourself as tears pushed their way through your eyes, now rolling your face. Limping over to his form, you crawled in beside him, careful not to touch any of his injuries. He looked so peaceful sleeping. He was like an angel sent from heaven just for you. He was your sun, he was your life. He was everything to you, for you. He was like the other half of you, if he ever passed, you would feel empty, broken.

You touched his face, looking at his closed eye. You kissed every part of his face, a little happy that he still has a chance with him.

His body shuffled a bit, making you jump and a bit worried since you weren't supposed to wake him up.

His only eye opened, adjusting to the room. He felt another presence beside him, so he looked next to him.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

What... What am I doing here? What happened... All I remember is... Fighting Akaza, the pain of my injuries, the pain in my abdomen... Am I... Dead? Will I get to meet mother again? No... I left Father... Senjuro... Y/n... I never got to forfil my promise of marrying you and making you happy.

No, I am not dead, I still feel the pain... Over my body, my fingers, my abdomen... Then who is next to me?

I look over to my left, only to see my lover lying next to me.

"Y-Y-" "Shh my love. Don't waste your breath. Please rest. I wasn't supposed to wake you up. I love you, my love."

Did she... Save me? I... Survived..? All thanks to her... My lover... If I haven't loved her enough, I love her more than ever.

I nodded and she wrapped her arms around my neck since my body was full of cuts, bruises and broken bones. I was comfortable in her arms, I always have been, forever.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

After a few months, I healed, except the hole in my abdomen hasn't healed fully. I go to Kocho's butterfly manor for checkup's now.

My wedding with Y/n is tomorrow. I have my suit ready. I am very happy to get married to my lover and I'm glad that I could be her husband. We don't want anything to happen to each other. I have retired from being the Flame Hashira, and she continues to be The Wisteria Hashira.

My father and Senjuro were happy to see me, but a sad that I was on the verge of death. Shinjuro has treated me, Senjuro and Y/n better and has stopped his drinking habits, thankfully.

I'm glad Father has gone back to his old ways, back to caring about us again. I understand that he was emotionally and physically upset about my Mother's death, but drinking alcohol is not gonna help in any way.

Tomorrow came and I was nervous. I mean, what if I mess up? What if she has her doubts? What if she says no? What if- no. I shouldn't think like this. She's gonna say yes and I know it.

The male hashiras and friends, Tengen, Shinazugawa, Obanai, Gyomei, Muichiro, Giyuu, Kamado, yellow boy and Boar boy.

"Oi dude! I need to fix your hair!"

"My hair? I-Is something wrong with it?!"

"Yeah. I need to put flashiness into it!" tengen said, pointing to something.

"...Tengen. We are not putting glitter in my hair. I'm getting married, not being a gliterbomb."

"Psh, whatever. Kyojuro, there's a stain on your ass! Did you shit yourself?!"

"WHAT?! I- HOW?-"

"HAHAHA! YOU SHOULD IF SEEN YOUR FACE!"

"TENGEN! YOU BETTER NOT BE MESSING AROUND WITH KYOJURO!"

".... I'm not Makio! I swear!"

Makio quickly opened the door, grabbing Tengen by the ear, and dragging him out. Hinatsuru and Suma only giggled before heading to (Name)'s room.

I only shook my head. Tengen was not helping. Tanjiro and the two boys then spoke up.

"Rengoku-san, You look amazing! I hope the wedding goes as plan. Y/n-san is very lucky to have you. You two look like the very best couple!" Tanjiro said, giving a closed eye smile. I smile back with enthusiasm, even though the nevousment is still bubbling in my stomach.

"Thank you, Kamado!"

"WHERE'S THE FOOD?! ARE THERE ANY DEMONS?!"

"INOSUKE! PUT YOUR SWORDS AWAY! AND PUT ON YOUR GODDAMN SHIRT!"

"Erm, ew, no. I am not putting on the suffocating killer of a thing."

"TANJIRO!!"

Tanjiro's sweat dropped, while I smiled at the scene. The boar boy sure knew how to make noise. Tanjiro then said a goodbye, shoving the two out the sorry, yelling a 'sorry' as I didn't hear him mutter a sorry the first time.

Senjuro then came in, smiling up at me. He was growing! His head was about to my shoulders! I then ruffled his head.

"Brother! You look good. I'm sure Y/N thinks so when she sees you too!"

"Haha! Thank you Senjuro! I am quite nervous! I hope everything goes as planned." I say, giving a smile down at him. My father then came in, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"I'm proud of you son. Remember, I want some grandchildren as well." He winked and my face heated up at what he said.

"I will ask Y/N on how she thinks on that idea! We will only go at her pace!" My father only laughed, tugging Senjuro softly.

"Well, Me and Senjuro are gonna get into place. After all, I am walking Y/n down the aisle. We don't wanna be late, do we Senjuro?"

"Nope!"

"Well then, I'll see you later, Kyojuro." "Okay!"

Looking at myself in the mirror, I wonder how she's feeling right now...

𝐘/𝐍 𝐋/𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

I am so nervous! Mitsuri and Shinobu did a wonderful job, as well as the butterfly ladies and the Uzui ladies. Only this time, my family wasn't here. But I've learned to accept that. I'm sure they're cheering me on, even if it's from above. Shinjuro-san is walking me down the aisle. He was like a father figure to me, apart from Master of course. His illness has gotten worse, so he unfortunately couldn't come. He sends his blessings and his apologies.

"Thank you guys. I love you guys so much. Thank you for doing this all for me!"

"WAHHH! Y/N-CHAN!! I LOVE YOU TOO!"

"Now now now, Mitsuri-chan, we wouldn't wanna ruin your makeup now would we?~"

"N-no..."

"well then. I'm gonna get back to Tomioka-san while Mitsuri-chan goes with Iguro-san. It's almost time for you to walk down, Y/n-chan. We'll be right here for you. I'll be right next to you, okay?"

"O-Okay!" You stuttered, trying to be confident. My palms were sweating.

It was time to walk down.

The scenery was beautiful, flowers decorated the place. While you and Kyojuro were friends, you two discovered a lovely waterfall on a mission, it was actually the same waterfall place where he confessed his love. Kyojuro and you thought it would be amazing to have the wedding here.

(ᴀ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴘɪᴄ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢ)

Flowers were everywhere, which you loved. When you were walking, you noticed all of your friends and the people you call family, noticed you walking, standing up. You saw Shinjuro, hooking your arms with his.

He then leaned in close in your ear, whispering that you look beautiful, which you replied with a thank you.

Looking up at Kyojuro's face, you noticed his pink tainted cheeks, and the loving smile he always gave you.

Tengen looked at Kyojuro's face with a smug smile, sanemi looking bored, thinking he could slay over 100 demons in this moment. Giyuu had a small smile, aswell as Gyomei. Muichiro snatched one of the flowers, staring at the flower, no thought behind his eyes.

Tanjiro smiled at the two of you, Inosuke was busing himself with food, the crumbs sticking onto his face. Zenitsu having love hearts in his eyes while staring at Nezuko, aswell as obanai. He gave you a few looks, but moving his different coloured eyes to Mitsuri lovingly. As if it was their wedding.

Mitsuri wore a big smile and blushed, Shinobu kept her small smile, as well as Kanao and Aoi. Nezuko smiled behind her muzzle. Suma was covering her mouth, trying to prevent her from squealing, Makio had her hands on her hips, smiling while Hinatsuru kept her hand on her wrist, smiling gently.

Making it up to where Kyojuro stood and letting go of Shinjuro's arm, giving a shy smile across to Kyojuro. While the preist was speaking, You looked at your surroundings, taking in the scenery. This time, you didn't see anything, making you sigh and relief. A soft smile replacing your shy one.

You stared at his fiery orbs, while the priest spoke.

"Miss L/n, would you take Rengoku Kyojuro as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Rengoku Kyojuro, do you take Y/n L/n as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do!" Kyojuro yelled, making everyone laugh. Just like your dream.

........

"you may kiss the bride."

Kyojuro wasted no time, quickly grabbing your waist and kissing your lips. The crowd cheered in joy.

You were glad that this wasn't a dream. Being a Rengoku wasn't a dream, at last.

You and kyojuro lived happily ever after.

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