#and then I'm going to get treated like a kid that doesn't know her own mind rather than a 33 year old woman who knows her own brain inside

[thebleedingeffect]

.

[rosieposiepie]

Watching the new Percy Jackson episode, and while by no means is the show perfect, I do love how they updated the blending of Greek mythology and the American Gothic for social commentary.

What I mean is Echidna, the mother of monsters, is some respectable-looking vaguely southern white woman who is able to convince the police on the train that three kids shattered a train window and used those institutions to isolate the kids so she can target them and scare them for the chimera's hunt. The way that the police especially treat Annabeth. Now, as a young black girl, she has to know how to ask if they're getting arrested, and gets called out by the police for her tone.

And then, at the St. Louis Arch, we see Grover upset because of the museum, which is basically a monument to Manifest Destiny (literally, there's a shot where the words are in full display in the background). And while they say, "Grover is upset because he doesn't like it when people hurt animals," they explicitly depict America's colonization and destruction of indigenous communities as The Bad Thing. It adds another layer of flavor for the whole "Pan is missing" - it's not just about Climate Change. It's about the extermination of indigenous groups (the centaurs they saw on the train, the reminder that there used to be more of them until humans started killing them). They say "humans" are bad, but they're showing us Western/American colonizers.

Also, a rare yet interesting moment of conflict between Annabeth as a daughter of Athena and Grover as a Satyr. Annabeth insists that the museum's commodifying and glorifying of American colonization is "not what the arch is actually about, it's about architecture and math," but Athena is the goddess who protects social institutions and a patron goddess of the state, law, order, industry, and war. The Industrial Revolution and Western social institutions definitely contributed to colonialism; just saying. We also see in this episode that Athena can be arrogant and cruel - letting a monster go after her own daughter because she was embarrassed.

Anyway, idk. Maybe I'm overthinking this but these were the things that popped out to me on first watch, and now that I think about them more, I would love a continuation of these kinds of themes and tropes in future seasons, if we get them.

[stylesharrys]

Special Brownies [Weedrry]

Harry and Y/N accidentally eat their roommates special brownies.

A/N: I came up with this idea very randomly and I have written it as fast as I possibly could lmao anyway, the whole thing is about accidentally getting stoned, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! If it doesn't, enjoy <333

Warnings: mentions and use of weed (edibles), being high, swearing, kissing, biting, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk.

WC: 2.3k

//

It’s been a long week and Y/N is feeling it. Between classes and shifts at the cafe, her feet are sore and her mind is tired. She wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the sofa with a good tv show and pass the fuck out.

And tonight is supposed to be her lucky night. Tom has a night shift and Harry has a hot date. No boys, no roommates, no interruptions.

There’s just something about knowing she’s got the flat to herself all night long, and she can lounge about like the lazy girlie her heart yearns to be.

She starts with a long, relaxing her aching body in the hot soapy water until her skin begins to prune. Y/N takes extra time to moisturise her body and brush her hair. Even treats herself to a face mask while she does so.

When she leaves the bathroom, it’s almost 7 p.m. and Tom has already left for work. The apartment is clean, and most importantly, quiet.

She’s a bit too excited in her movement to the sofa, a squeal slipping from her lips. Too caught up in her head, she doesn’t notice Harry leaning against his bedroom door, arms folded across his chest.

It’s not until he clears his throat that Y/N jumps out of her little happy dance with a scream. A smirk sits on his lips, amused by the way she scowls at him.

“What the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be out on a date!”

Her tone is accusing, pointer finger jabbing at the air in his direction. She notices his attire; grey shorts and a white hoodie. Y/N’s shoulders slump.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.

“What? I thought you liked hanging out with me?” Harry follows her to the sofa, sitting on  the opposite end of her.

Y/N crosses her arms furiously. “I do! But I was so excited to have the flat to myself for just one night.”

Harry’s brows are raised suggestively, that sick fucking smirk on his lips again. Y/N lunges a pillow at his face. “Not for those reasons, you perv.”

He barks out a laugh, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he props his feet up and on Y/N’s lap. He watches how her bottom lip pouts out and his face softens.

“Look, if you want me to fuck off out for the evening, I can.” Harry offers.

She scoffs. “That is what you were supposed to be doing.” A moment of silence passes and she sighs. “Sorry, that came out rude. I'm not about to kick you out of your own flat – though I am going to force you to watch the last three episodes of The Rookie with me.”

Harry makes no attempt to hide the groan that follows her words. It’s not that he doesn’t like the show, it’s that he hates the show. He’ll never understand Y/N’s weird obsession with emergency services.

First, it was Criminal Minds, then a month later she binge watched 9-1-1 Lone Star in six days. Now she’s on the newest season of The Rookie and he’s sure she only started season one at the beginning of the month?

“Do we have to?” he grumbles.

Y/N throws another pillow at him. “Yes. You’re the one interrupting my night, you could at least do it quietly… and with snacks.”

Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence and Harry has to bite back a grin. She could never be mad at Harry, she loves him and his company far too much. Tom, on the other hand… yeah, she would definitely be mad if it was him crashing her lazy girl night.

Harry stands from the sofa, wandering through to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of water in one hand and scans his eyes through the cupboards in search for a suitable snack.

They’ve not been shopping for a few days, so there’s only some dry crackers, a half-eaten bag of cashew nuts (ew, Tom), and granola. Harry contemplates ubering some cookies and milkshakes when his eyes land on a bakery box on top of the microwave.

He squints as he reads the writing on the top of the box.

Tom’s. DO NOT EAT!

Harry flips the lid, six thick slices of dewey chocolate brownies. They’re like fucking slabs… he’s sure Tom won’t mind if he and Y/N share just one between them.

He pops a (massive) slice on a plate and toddles back to the kitchen. The show is paused on the opening scene, Y/N shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. She raises a brow at the snack in question.

“We’re sharing a brownie?”

Harry huffs as he sits. “S’all we’ve got in the kitchen, and they’re Tom’s. Didn’t wanna take the piss when his little sticky note clearly says DO NOT TOUCH!”

Y/N snorts, breaking the brownie in half and handing Harry the bigger slice. She takes a bite, face screwing slightly.

“These taste a little funny… nutmeg, maybe?”

She turns to Harry who doesn’t say anything and still hasn’t taken the brownie. The look on his face irks her. She huffs, swallowing. “I feel bad that your date cancelled on you.”

His eyebrows almost raise to his hairline. “And what makes you think she was the one to cancel?”

“Was she?” Y/N asks.

Harry takes the brownie with a sigh. “Yeah.”

//

They can’t stop fucking giggling.

The show is long forgotten about, has been for the past thirty minutes. They’re both feeling warm. Harry stripped from his jumper and Y/N changed into some little shorts and one of Harry’s baggy t-shirts.

Neither of them know where this amusement came from, but there is absolutely no calming either of them down. They’re sneakily sharing a second slice of Tom’s brownies; eyes on the door in case for some reason, he comes home an hour after his shift has started.

“They taste so weird, but I can’t stop eating it.”

Harry chokes out a laugh, eyes welling with tears because he just finds Y/N so fucking funny tonight.

She’s a mess too, eyes squinted and shoulders hunched as she laughs uncontrollably. They’re both crossed-legged on the living room floor, knees knocking gently.

The more she chews, the more she begins to recognise that unfamiliar taste… the way it lingers on her tongue. Her laughter slows for a moment, as if realisation is beginning to dawn on her.

She stares at Harry with wide eyes and parted lips, mouth still full.

“Oh, my god.”

“What?”

“They’re fucking weed brownies!”

Harry can’t breathe, struggles to look away from the fear and shock on Y/N’s face. His whole body begins to shake with laughter and Y/N finds herself following.

“Harry, it’s not funny!” she shrieks. “This is so bad, Harry.”

She’s laughing through her words. Even she can’t take herself seriously in this state.

“D’you wanna play Just Dance?”

Harry’s words only make her laugh harder. The remainder of her brownie is thrown at his naked torso. Harry wastes no time to tackle her to the ground, hovering between her legs as he tickles her sides.

He's blowing raspberries on her neck, eliciting loud cackles from her mouth. Y/N tugs at his hair, her legs flailing around his hips when he nips at the skin on her throat.

They don’t say anything. She continues to chuckle, and Harry continues to bite.

Their laughter has fizzled out into breathy giggles. Neither of them are sure when Harry’s bites turned into kisses. When their fingers became intertwined. When her legs closed around his middle.

And neither of them say a fucking thing about it.

Harry’s lips travel up her neck and across her jaw. She finds his mouth feverishly, nothing but tongue and teeth but to the pair of them, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.

They’re needy, hot and wanton all of a sudden. Like a switch has been flipped and they’re clinging to one another like lifelines.

Harry holds her hands above her head, fingers tangled. He’s hard, rock hard. Pressing into Y/N’s tiny fucking shorts so much he’s sure he can feel her arousal through both of their clothes.

He ruts against her, testing the waters. The moan he receives sends all blood down south. He’s always known sex to be incredible when you’re high. The thought of him sharing it with her? God, he could bust there and then.

He releases her hands so he can feel up her thighs, skin hot and smooth. Their lips don’t separate, not once. She lets her hands fall into his curls, nails scratching at his scalp and she tugs at the roots.

Harry’s moaning into her mouth, eager and desperate for more. He takes her shorts off quickly and strategically. So quickly that she doesn’t notice until she feels a cool breeze between her thighs.

Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, more than ready for whatever the fuck he wants to do to her.

They haven’t hesitated, not once. Not until Harry's hands are at the waistband of his shorts and he wonders if he should grab a condom or just go down on her. He knows she’s on the pill, just like they both know they’re both clean.

Harry gets tested once a month and Y/N doesn’t sleep around.

She answers his inner turmoil for him and tugs his shorts down the best she can. Harry breaks the kiss for a split second to tug his shorts to his knees. He’s back to kissing her as quickly as he pulled away, tongue against hers. Hot and messy.

Y/N feels his tip twitch against her clit, an airy sigh echoing into Harry’s mouth. He lets his fingers swirl around her wetness, smearing it across her smooth cunt and coating his thick shaft in her arousal.

They’re panting messes, eager, desperate and horny.

When he lines himself at her entrance, she locks her legs around his waist. Harry bumps forward, a shrill cry slipping from between their lips at the sensation of one another.

Harry wants to give her a moment to adjust, but Y/N doesn’t. She wants it hot and hard. She wants the pain. She wants to feel every fucking inch of him.

She probably should’ve warned Harry how she gets when she’s high. How much of a whiny, cock-hungry whore she can become. Then again, how was she supposed to know they’d accidentally eat their roommates special brownies?

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry chokes as he bottoms out.

Y/N’s struggling to catch her breath but she’s never loved the burn in her lungs more. “Fuck me, H.”

He twitches inside her. “Fuck me hard.”

His hips begin to roll, cock nuzzling itself deep inside her. He can feel everything. Every bump, dip, swell. God, she’s fucking soaked, leaking down to the floor but neither of them care.

Harry slowly begins to quicken his pace, arms bent at the elbows either side of Y/N’s head to prop himself up. She doesn’t loosen her legs around his hips. She needs him as close as he can possibly get.

Even his cock buried to the brim in her cunt isn’t enough. She needs his soul touching hers.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” she breathes. “You gonna fuck my tight cunt, baby? Fuck me like you own me.”

He can’t believe his fucking ears. He’s always found Y/N attractive, but never in his wildest fucking dreams did he expect her to be this goddamn filthy.

Harry loves it.

His thrusts grow harsher. She has no time to catch her breath between hits, her mouth in a constant state of slack – eyes rolled back and eyebrows pinched.

“My perfect little cunt.” Harry seethes.

The noises of her pussy are like electric waves in Harry’s ears. He feels them in his soul, like sparks and jolts. He’s never felt more alive.

He’s fucking into her manically. Behind closed eyes all he can see shapes and colours of need and desire. Sex has always been good, always been great high. But this? Fuck, he’s never felt something so otherwordly.

He never wants it to end, wants to spend the rest of his life fucking her like a whore. She’s tugging his hair, likely making his scalp bleed but he loves it. He’d bleed a fucking river just to feel her cunt around him again.

“I’m gonna come!”

Her words awaken something animalistic within Harry. Like his life depends on feeling her release around him – like it’s what he was born to experience.

He chases her high, nipping and suckling on her neck, fucking into her cunt as fast as his restrained hips will allow. Y/N’s a blubbering mess, a sight Harry never wants to forget.

Fuck, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. This will forever be etched into his mind – her face, her body, her perfect cunt. Jesus, he’s never been so into sex in his life.

Her body begins to tremble uncontrollably, legs locked tight around his middle as she cries his name and pours over him.

Harry’s gruff and desperate moans mix with hers. She’s impossibly tighter, squeezing him; begging him to never let her feel anything but full ever again.

Harry wants to die buried in her cunt.

It takes every single fucking ounce of willpower he has to pull out and release across her thighs – painting the filthiest picture anyone could imagine.

It’s a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths. Hot and heavy panting that soon turns into light laughter, that even sooner, turns into contagious giggles.

Their bodies shake with every chuckle, Harry’s mouth ghosting hers until he nips on her bottom lip.

“We are never to talk about this, understood?”

He grins widely. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

She hums, eyes full of lust. Harry’s still achingly hard, despite coming more than he ever has before. He dips his head to her neck, sucking at her soft skin. His cock twitches against her thigh and she breathes deeply, blinks slowly.

“You wanna go again?” his voice is muffled by her neck.

She grins, legs wrapping back around his middle.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

//

let me know what you thought!

[timkontheunsure]

"and if he's only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me?"

Ok think I've finally worked out what was bugging me with them miscommunicating when Blitz yells.

"Would he want me if he were free?" Stolas' starting premise is if Blitz wasn't ok with the deal, and didn't like him; then he's a monster and an abuser.

If it's was only sex to Blitz, then he's just like Stella.

It's why he gives up, saying he has his answer; when Blitz assumes the crystal must be a prop for more of their deal.

"tethered to someone in such an unfair way". Ok this bit had my mind immediately go to the divorce.

The marriage was arranged by someone must more powerful than Stolas, to someone he'd never choose for himself. An "entire life's been written in stone" in fact; he thinks he's done the same thing to the man he loves.

While it is perfectly reasonable for Blitz to get angry, feeling blindsided and dismissed; asking for a "fucking minute", the next bit reads very differently to both of them.

"You spring this feeling bullshit on me. Are you fucking kidding! *Kicks open the door* Can I get a Fucking minute to think after everything you put me through! You pompous rich Asshole! *Stolas' flinches the same way he does when Stella screams at him.*

"Treat me like one of your little butler imps. You can't just Dismiss me like that. I mean you royal Fucks think you can think you can do this every single time. Like you can just play with our feelings, because we're smaller and not as important. Well I'm Not letting you bitch. *Flinches again* Let's Go!".

Blitz is telling Stolas that he doesn't want to be sent away, and that he wants think about it. His abandonment issues are fully kicked in.

He's trying to force Stolas into a fight, to get him to engage with him. Likely a repeated pattern from his last serious relationship with Voroskia.

Trying to pick a fight, to get to make up sex, to get them back to 'normal'. Because that's how he's been dealing with their "complicated" for a while now. If it's about sex he knows how to deal with what they have.

(Blitz is word perfect on the fight with Verosika after all; so they probably got back together a few times after stealing from her).

Blitz immediately goes to "I can do better", and try give it back; when he thinks Stolas doesn't want to see him anymore.

"you royal Fucks think you can think you can do this every single time."

But that's not what Stolas is hearing right now. Stolas hears is 'your all the same. All royal are as bad as eachother'.

It's very close to Striker explaining how the world works during his torture.

And now he thinks that the only man he's ever loved hates him because what he is.

That's what he meant by "think so of low of me".

And he's not exactly wrong. Fizz even calls Blitz on hating that Stolas is a prince.

And Blitz does say "They're all the fuckin' same". (Blitz isn't wrong for calling out Stolas on how he treats his staff either)...

Then there's the bit that seems fairly contentious. Stolas portaling Blitz out.

Stolas is a domestic abuse survivor, only a couple of weeks out of the hospital, because his wife tried to murder him. He's going freak out at loud voices, angry swearing, and doors being kicked in.

He going assume that this is Blitz getting a few kicks in on the way out; not him genuinely trying to talk through their problems just because of the format.

They are both stumbling over eachothers trauma landmines here.

Neither is wrong.

Not Stolas for walking away, or making the shouty person leave.

Not Blitz for getting scared, upset and feeling abandoned. Thinking Stolas isn't giving him a chance to think it through.

Blitz is going to get that time he wants to think it over. It's not an all or none thing.

He now has his business safe and secured in his own hands, and knows that Stolas likes him too. Those are biggys.

It's entirely up to Blitz what he wants to do now.

[celepeace]

This seems like a kind of universal thing so why does having children seem to break the part of people's brains responsible for acting with any semblance of logic. Like so many parents are perfectly normal, reasonable, even smart people, and then I see them interact with their children and it's like they enter a backwards universe where down is up and left is right

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

[kisses4choso]

#DAD?

SYNOPSIS: when you first meet their adoptive kids CHARACTERS: s. gojo & s. geto WARNINGS: mildly suggestive (geto), ages 19/18 [according to the manga] NOTE: pretend geto didn't commit genocide... he brought the girls back to jujutsu tech and lived happily ever after!

when GOJO first introduces megumi and tsumiki to you, you're a bit conflicted. the first thing you think? yeah, gojo was right in being scared of a kid that's a third of his age; poor megumi looked identical to his father. the second? they're so young, they're actual kids. gojo is so young. you are so young.

"nice to meet you. i've heard lots about you," is the only thing you can offer to the children other than a warm smile. the boy stares at you before looking off to the side, and his sister nudges him, smiling at you politely.

"us too," the little girl says, "professor gojo says you're pretty a lot," she stumbles over her words a bit before deciding on something, "and you make really good cup ramen."

"professor gojo said that?" you look up at him from where you're squatting on the ground, tickled by the funny nickname, and you're happy to see a cute smile dancing across his face. "then i'll have to treat you to some ramen soon."

she nods, still flashing her smile, although it's missing a few teeth, and megumi remains looking off to the side.

"are you gonna be in charge of us too?" he suddenly asks, his blunt words a contrast to his little voice.

satoru answers for you, squatting down to meet the boy's eyes (probably, it's hard to see where he's looking with those glasses), "we're still figuring that out, kid. are ya tryna get rid of me or somethin'?"

megumi mumbles something under his breath, and whatever it is, it earns him a pointed sideways glance from his sister.

"wanna say that louder?" he challenges the boy, but megumi responds by sticking his tongue out at him. gojo mimics his actions, just like a boy would. because that's exactly what he is, a teenage boy.

"thought so! alright, you two, can you give us adults a second to talk? we gotta talk about..." he trails off, turning his head to face you directly, "taxes, or somethin'. we'll be in my room. be on your best behavior please, we have a guest."

"pinky promise," tsumiki says, kissing her thumb and holding out her hand. surprise washes over gojo's features, but he quickly composes himself, mirroring tsumiki and allowing her to link her pinky to his. she presses her thumb to his, effectively sealing the promise.

cute, he thinks, how hard would it be for megumi to be like that?

gojo then decisively sticks his pinky out to megumi, but the boy gives him a weary look, and he frowns. "well, holler if ya need me!"

and with that, he's rushing you off to his room, closing his door behind him, lowering his voice, and tugging off his glasses, "so? whaddya think?"

"about?" you stall, finding comfort in his bed as if it were your own. you feel his eyes on you, you always do, but this time it's that look. he's analyzing your every move, your flow of energy, your darting eyes; you're not sure if it would be more effective to acknowledge it or let it go. he stands in front of you, so it's hard to ignore, but you persist.

he hesitates before speaking, a rare occasion, "remember how i said i wanna be a teacher at tech?" he doesn't wait for your answer, "i think, if i try hard enough, i can start teaching right now. the boy has lots of potential, and i want to develop that. can't let it be wasted with the z'enins."

you move your lips, but he anticipates your words, "i know, i'm not even twenty yet," he brushes a hand through his hair, "i don't want his power to be a burden to him. he wants to protect his sister. i can help him."

"i know you can, satoru. it's what you want to do, and i know above everything else, you're stubborn," you finally meet his gaze, and you find the troubled twist of his lips. "but will you have time?"

"i've got enough money..." he says, deflating at your unconvinced sigh, "i'll find a way."

seeing him so caught up in this tugs on your heartstrings a little, and the slight pout on his lips doesn't do much to help your heartache. you say what you were scared to from the moment he mentioned the two children, "i can help."

for the second time that evening, shock laces itself onto his face. you look a little startled by your own words. the reality of being responsible for raising two children on top of developing megumi's cursed technique against the wishes of arguably the most powerful sorcerer clan... it was heavy.

"ya don't gotta, i just wanted to know if i'm crazy or not for adopting two young kids at my age."

"you're always a little crazy, no? and i want to," you say, and a beat of silence passes between the two of you, the six eyes user taking a particularly sharp breath.

"you're okay with raising those two brats? with me?" he dismisses your first comment, the last question a little quieter.

he takes a step closer to you and crosses his fingers in hopes you'd say yes. a selfish thought, but it means another reason to convince you to move in with him. another reason to spend nights and days together. yet another reason to love you.

"yes, professor, but with all these missions, you'll practically be an absent father... figure," you reach out to him, pulling him closer by his waistband.

he smiles, slumping his weight in the spot right next to you as if his king bed couldn't hold him anywhere else, "not much different than what they're used to."

"satoru," you bat his shoulder, and he laughs, dimples on display. you don't miss the questions hidden in his eyes, and you wish he'd lean over just a little for you, maybe let him steal a kiss or two as a remedy. you continue, "we turned out all right, i'm sure they'll be okay with you."

"with us," he corrects, "and i turned out amazing, by the way."

he turns to you, attention completely fixed on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, at his expense, but the laugh is for him. uncharacteristic emotion comes over him for a moment, but his gaze is as steady as always, and in the moment he's sure he'd done something in his past life right, "but i hope they learn more from you."

"mimiko, nanako, come say hi," GETO calls to the girls as he opens his door for you. you were at his house as a 'surprise' he said, so you felt the necessity to get the two girls a few gifts.

he moves aside to allow you in, and immediately you're aware of the unusual mess in his living room. the building blocks, dolls, hair bows, plushies, toy cars, and puzzles make it look like a daycare.

his lips meet your forehead, "hey, you didn't have to get them anything. they're spoiled."

"i see that," you laugh, grabbing onto his freshly manicured hand as he leads you to set your things down on the coffee table.

his hair is messily braided as well, and you take out your phone to get a picture, but your attention is caught by two pairs of thundering steps coming toward you.

"mister geto! look what we drew for..." nanako quickly stops herself, her feet screeching to a halt, her sister bumps into her back.

mimiko yelps, not expecting the blonde to halt so suddenly. she peeks over her, searching the living room and finding you sitting on the couch. her part of the couch.

"what a cute," geto hesitates, turning away from you and toward the hall, "cat?"

nanako pouts, casting her gaze toward her feet, "it's supposed to be you with kitty ears."

geto quickly clears his throat, "i know, i was just kiddin'."

he glances back at you, the remenants of a smile in his eyes. he definitely did not know.

"who the heck's that?" the blonde says, leaning to the side to get a good look at you. "i thought you were gonna bring the guy with the weird eyes."

"nanako," geto's sharp eyes are not visible to you, but you know he's giving her a disapproving look with how she tenses. "come here, please. this is who i was talking about earlier when you weren't paying attention."

the two girls share eye contact (although the meaning of it is known only to them) and reluctantly step forward, the brunette behind the blonde.

the dynamic was obvious to you, nanako was the loud one, and mimiko was the shy one. it was cute, the way they held each other's hand upon coming closer from where they stood in the hall.

suguru attempts to push the two little girls toward you once they reach him, but they both hide behind him. your heart warms at the sight; nanako's looking up at geto, hugging his leg while mimiko squishes the side of her face against his other leg and looks at you.

you break the ice by introducing yourself, a little discouraged when they simply blink at you.

time for the trick up your sleeve.

"i brought these here for you. they're from kyoto, and i heard you wanted to try them."

their eyes instantly brighten, and they both look up at geto, waiting for his permission. he smiles at them, giving them both a quick nod, and they run toward the long couch.

"excuse me, can we open them?" mimiko asks, and you think that even if you tried, you couldn't find it in your heart to deny the girl anything.

you hand each of them a sparkly gift bag, "of course, hon. they're for you."

geto follows closely behind them as they wander over to the couch, opting to sit down on the floor right in front of you, between both of the girls.

mimiko opens her bag carefully, removes the tissue papers one by one, and gasps when she sees what's at the bottom. she turns to nanako and her mess, holding up her snacks. "look!"

they were giggling, trading a few of their gifts, and having fun with the extra plushies you had thrown in there.

"what do we say?" geto interrupts them while they're lost in their own world, but they don't seem bothered in the least.

"thank you so much!" they both exclaim at the same time, mimiko a little louder than normal.

you turn to geto as they wander into the kitchen to excitedly eat their snacks, "they're great girls. i can't believe those people would..."

geto winces, holding your hand delicately, "i know. but they're doing good so far. i think you made a good impression, they're not so quick to trust people."

you smile, a newfound hope inside you, "i can tell they adore you. you'd make a good dad, suguru."

you lean down to give him a quick kiss, but something changes in his expression, and he holds your chin in his hand, stopping you from meeting his lips. he smiles at your frown, a teasing lilt in his voice when he speaks, "don't say things like that."

"or what?" you know just how to get under his skin, and although your original comment wasn't meant to bother him, it's given you an opening.

his pupils are dilated; you can almost guess what he's about to say, or perhaps do, and--

"hi, do you wanna try?" nanako suddenly speaks, and you both jump, so caught up in your own world, that you hadn't noticed the girls' presence.

"thank you," you say, taking a chip from the bag she held to you, and geto does the same. mimiko offers you gummy bears, and you take one as well.

still a little startled, geto mouths a 'sorry' to you, and you merely shake your head, enjoying the sweet gummy.

he'd no longer have the benefit of having you all to himself in his house anymore; having no privacy was almost guaranteed with kids like mimiko and nanako.

but he thinks it might be worth it, seeing the way the girls smile as you compliment their hairdos, and watching you laugh as they take credit for his. he glances at your hands as you cover your eyes for a game of hide and seek, eyes caught on the glint of the promise ring on your index finger.

no, he didn't mind it one bit.

haruta's better than me, if nanami was that close to me...

[notreallysorryxx]

#"Be A Millionaire"

Aventurine wants to put a baby in you.

Characters: aventurine (the peacock himself)

Warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, breeding (so smut), use of the word "whore" (if that bugs you, why are you reading it 🤨), petname "pet", there's some hoes in this house LMAO

Notes: This was heavily inspired by "Baby By Me" by 50 Cent & Ne-Yo. I absolutely love breeding in smut so why not try writing my own. I'm not good at writing smut, but I tried!

Words: 1.5k

You couldn't deny that Aventurine was attractive. Although he might be a threat to you and the other Nameless, you couldn't resist his charm. He liked spoiling you, his 'pet'. Veritas thought the both of you were disgusting. He'd found out about your relationship after walking in to the two of you fucking in the hotel bathroom.

Aventurine often invited you to his hotel room, spoiling you there too. He'd give you anything you wanted, absolutely anything. Aventurine had invited you after dinner today. His gaze stayed on your stomach, noticing the slight bulge from the food you had eaten. Even though you were talking, he wasn't paying attention to what you were saying. His arm wrapped around your waist, palm pressed against your stomach.

"Aventurine? Are you listening to me?" you asked.

"Huh? Yeah, of course," he answered.

But you could clearly tell he wasn't. You were confused, following his gaze. What was he so fixated on?

"What's up?"

Aventurine smiles, rubbing his thumb against the skin of your stomach.

"It almost looks like your pregnant, doesn't it? Wouldn't be so bad if you were," he murmurs.

You don't respond, jaw dropped. The two of you hadn't ever talked about a baby, but you weren't opposed. You thought about it, a mini Aventurine sounded adorable. With his genes, any kid you'd have would look cute.

"Yeah? I didn't take you for someone like this-"

"Someone like what?" Aventurine laughs, "I saw a cute kid today in the hotel and then you show up, belly bulging from food... imagine how good you'd look if you were actually pregnant. You'd be glowing, gorgeous as always. Makes me wanna put a baby in you."

He smirks as he sees you go red, "Oh? You like the idea? Should I actually..."

He pulls you impossibly closer, hands groping at your ass. This is a habit of his, groping you. Aventurine knows you like how handsy he is.

"If we actually do this... I won't let you rest at all. Clear your schedule for tomorrow, hm? Come on, be a good little pet."

Your hands shake as you take out your phone to message the Astral Express group chat. The message you send is a jumble of words that can barely be discerned.

"Tsk, can't even spell write. Maybe you should call them."

You inhale sharply. Calling everyone at this hour? And when he's touching you like this? How would you keep your composure. Knowing Welt and Himeko, they'd pick up on this. And you know that Caelus wouldn't approve of your fraternising with the "enemy".

Aventurine waits as you decide. Eventually you give up and call your friends. "Ah, hello," Himeko answers sweetly. "We were wondering where you were."

You take a deep breath before requesting a break the next day. Himeko listens, allowing your request.

"But I do wonder why you'd request a break. Are you tired? Or is there another reason?"

"N-No, I'm just taking time for myself. Recuperating after the Luofu, you know?"

"Mhm, sure."

The doubt is clear in her response, but you brush it off. Aventurine raises his eyebrow, squeezing your thigh.

"Um, I should go... see you later, Himeko."

"Of course, goodnight."

Aventurine smiles, kissing your wrist as you set your phone down.

"Good pet. And you know what good pets get? They get treats. Sit on the counter, legs open. Rest them on my shoulder."

You do as he says, letting him kneel between your legs. He hooks a finger around the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off. They stick to you, wet from your arousal.

"Hm? Already so wet from the idea of me knocking you up, sweetheart? How lewd," he comments.

Before you can respond, he's flinging your undergarment in the other direction, licking a stripe up your core. You gasp. His mouth is so wet and it feels amazing on you. Aventurine smiles against your cunt, suckling on your clit. He teasingly nibbles.

He's too good at this, too good at using his tongue. In more ways than one.

He pulls back a bit, licking his lips, "I've barely even done anything and yet you're gushing on the counter. How cute."

Aventurine leans back in, tongue slipping inside of you. He hums and you can feel the vibration. Your moans only serve to encourage him, his tongue working faster. You beg him to stop. Not because you don't like it, but because you don't want to cum just yet. He doesn't listen for once. Your pleading spurring him on in a way.

"Don't be afraid... let go, my love. I want to taste you," he whispers as his face is still buried between your legs.

You barely hear him, legs tightening around his head. He grunts as you practically smother him with your thighs. But he doesn't mind and you can tell by the way his cock is straning his slacks.

"Please, Venturi-" you whine.

You're cut off by your orgasm, hands gripping his hair tightly. He groans, tasting you on his tongue. Aventurine laps every last drop of your cum up, wiping anything he got on his face with his finger before licking that up too.

"You taste sweet, as always," he coos, inserting his finger now.

You whimper from the overstimulation, squirming.

Aventurine clicks his tongue, "Don't make me tie you down, darling." By the way you clench around his fingers, he can tell you lick the idea.

"Dirty little thing, you are."

He stretches you open, but the both of you know that won't be enough.

"I'm sorry, my sweet. But I just can't wait anymore. It'll sting a bit, okay?" he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe. You nod, not minding if it does sting.

A little bit of pain is nothing if it gets you pleasure later.

"Good pet."

You watch as Aventurine slides his slacks off. The front of his boxers is a mess, fabric incredibly wet. You realise he must have came in his boxers earlier. His cock is reasonably sized, a bit bigger than average but nothing extraordinary. And yet he could no doubt break you with just his cock.

"I don't think the counter would be the best place for this. Especially if we're doing this all night. On the bed, all fours, and ass in the air."

You comply, stripping yourself completely while you're at it. He absolutely loves this position. Loves being able to push your head down in the pillows, loves being able to grope you from behind, loves leaving marks on the nape of your neck and whispering in your ear.

He positions himself behind you before entering you. You hiss at the feeling of him pushing in, stinging just as he had said earlier. But you relish the feeling. It's not so much painful, just unexpected. He can feel your walls clamp around him as your body struggles to fit him since he didn't stretch you enough.

"Shit! You're so tight, wish I had stretched you out more. But it feels amazing, sweetheart. The way you clench around my dick. You love it so much, don't you?" he teases, "I know you do."

He makes a point by thrusting into you. You groan, grabbing the sheets beneath you so you don't collapse.

"Was that painful?"

"No, keep going..."

He listens to you, setting a steady pace. But not before you adjust to his size. It feels amazing, euphoric, as he slides in and out of you.

"You can go faster," you mumble.At first, you don't think he hears you as he pulls out. You're proven wrong as he slams back into you. While the pace before had been steady and rather slow, now he's pounding into you, destroying your insides.

"My pet," he croons, sounding out of breath. "This is what you wanted, hm? For me to treat you like my personal toy... What would the others on the Astral Express think? Seeing you with someone they dislike? What are you going to tell them when you wind up pregnant? That it was an accident? Or will you tell the truth?

"You moan, "T-Tell them the truth..."

"Yeah? That you've been whoring yourself out to me?"He slaps your ass without warning and you can practically hear the grin in his voice."You're fucking adorable... imagine our child. I bet they'll have your eyes," he murmurs softly.

It's strange, endearing almost, that this man who's fucking you so roughly is speaking so softly about what your future kids will look like. You almost laugh at the image, but you can't in your current state. Aventurine reaches for your clit, rubbing it in a circle and pinching it between his fingers.

"I can feel that you're close. Cum for me, darling."

And you do, faceplanting into the pillow and collapsing on the mattress.

Aventurine follows after you, chest against your back. He pants in your ear. You feel him shoot his load into you, his seed warm. It's something you're not used to since he usually pulls out.

"That was amazing, you're wonderful. You'll make a beautiful mother, my dear," he whispers. "Ah, but don't think we're done."

He chuckles as you grunt into the pillow.

[steddieas-shegoes]

sounds like a date

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.

"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.

"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.

That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.

He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.

Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.

So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.

"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"

"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.

"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.

Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.

Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.

"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.

Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.

"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.

Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.

It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.

It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.

Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."

"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.

"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."

"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.

"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"

Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.

Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.

He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.

Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.

"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.

"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."

"Oh?" Steve froze.

Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.

"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."

Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.

"Sounds like a date."

[argreion]

What's Your Poison?

-

Leon Kennedy general/BF headcanons!

We all need some Leon in our lives. This is basically adding onto my own headcanons plus boyfriend headcanons! NSFW too! Stupid? Yes. Do I really care and just wanted to make something today? Yes!

Also YES, the little dividers are uneven (and stupid), it's triggering to me but we still MUST go on.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: Each Leon contains a NSFW and a SFW. RE2R - Nipple play, pussy munching Leon, talks of mommy/daddy kink, food play. RE4R - General talks of hair pulling and breathplay, and pegging. RE6 - talks of drunk sex, (dub-con in a way?), munch Leon, daddy kink, breathplay, somno. Vendetta - talks of choking, pegging, marking and hints of impact play, and MUNCHHHH! Death Island - Talk of motorcycle sex, boob jobs, thigh jobs, shower sex, and scent kink.

Our favorite rookie! Our little pookie! He's such a sweetheart! We'll just say Raccoon City didn't happen, because you would've had to know him before Raccoon City to even actually date him. You two probably met in high school or during his time at the police academy.

He falls hard, he's young, he doesn't understand. Ada didn't exactly happen in this timeline. He doesn't even know Ada exists. I'm sorry Aeon fans, I love Ada, but the way I see Leon… I gotta erase her for RE2R.

Sweet little dates, at cafés, bakeries, or at home! The movie nights you two do, rom-coms, Disney movies, or stupid comedy. Loves them! Feel like he wants the perfectly sweet popcorn, and will buy every kind of seasoning for you. Burnt his popcorn on accident, and accidentally set the fire alarm off, too. Yikes, asides from the blaring alarm. You two couldn't help but giggle! Date nights either ended in mistake, like Leon accidentally falling asleep with his face in popcorn, or ended in cuddles!

Cuddles with RE2 Leon? TUMMY! RE2 Leon has a tummy! He lets you squish and lay on it. Blow raspberries, which he gets bashful at. That's stupid, and that's for kids! Ok, maybe he liked it…

Generally, he's pretty courteous! He's a good boy! Holds the door open like his mama taught him. Hold the chair out for you. Walk on the outer edge of side walks. Offer his coat when needed. Loves to be rewarded with a kiss, or a head pat!

Melts at the fact you might steal his clothes. And tries to often clean them for you. You're in his hoodie? It's going on his phone and possibly in a scrapbook!

Leaves cute little note reminders for you. 'Love you! <3', 'Remember to take your meds!', 'Take breaks!'. Will do small stupid doodles on them as well. Either him with a sloppy chibi style. Or some cute flower or thing he saw on TV!

Bit of a dork, too. I didn't get into this with my general Leon head canons, but I see Leon as a bit of a collector. Possible plushie collector! Watch him at those claw machines, he's stubborn to get a new one! Grew up with plushies and Gundam, too! Will and wants to build with you! He finds it cute, he finds the small odd things cute!

Wants to get a dog with you, said it would be fun! Walking around with it, possibly a bloodhound! It's big floppy ears, and you could howl with it? C'mon, what's not to love?

Little bit of a gamer! Plays stuff like Mario Kart, Zelda, Minecraft, etc. Honestly, just the pretty popular and highly rated games. Gets a D.S. just to get Nintendogs + Cats. Treats them like his babies if you won't want a dog. Is a little pouty because of it, but he'll get it over!

Lets you honestly do whatever you want on him. Want to yassify his look with make-up? Cosplay? Sure, just don't make him wear a skirt. Draw on his face and arms? Go ahead! Cute stickers? He'll take a picture! Photoshoot? There's a place downtown that'll be good! M-marriage? Gonna have to wait a bit on that, babe…

Though, it does come with some setbacks. He's over apologetic. He feels bad for looking so… Feminine, or wishing he wasn't so soft. He looks like a kid at points, in his eyes. His teeth are a bit wonky, too. Don't worry, Leon. We still and always will love you! A little awkward at talking, as well. His last relationship didn't end good, he remembered drinking a lot. Just wants and hopes you'll stay!

!NSFW!

So, let's be honest. Leon will take you well, strap or not. Loves being able to be of use to you. He's gentle, and honestly wants you to be, too! Sorry, but I can't picture him with rough sex at all with RE2! He isn't ready to be choked, or have bondage. The worst he would do is overstimulation, and he has to hype himself up heavily and ask every single second for it!

Likes to nibble and suck on your chest! Worship your nipples, suck on them, kiss them, just nipples. Wants to hold the boobs, be your personal bra. Loves to snuggle them as well, it gives him comfort.

Did we ever mention mommy AND daddy issues? I feel like he might not want to be babied as much, considering I feel like he was a low-key nerd/weirdo in high school. But he can't help but call you something endearing. Sucks on you while looking up at you, those pretty blues. Then asking, “Did I do good?”

Loves the emotion of love during sex. He doesn't even call it sex, honestly. He calls it love making. Positions like Face-Off or honestly 69 make it better to him. Being able to hold you in some way, it makes each single second more heavenly than before.

Sit on his face, please. He loves being able to love you so much. It's also a bit arousing to be suffocated by pussy, but that's just him. Burying himself into your folds and licking at your nub, it's his end journey to do so.

Trims his pubic hair just for you, has accidentally cut himself while doing so… Doesn't want to be a big bush down there! You might not even see his dick because of it!

His dick is probably five to six inches, honestly. I'm leaning towards a four to five, but girlies like going large, so go large! Hard? He probably gains about an inch and a half. Two inches at most. Get him aroused with ice cream, or sensually licking whipped cream off your finger. It always does the trick to the innocent mind. 

-

Rookie is a little buffer now, eh? He's still the same, but honestly… To even date him, you'd probably have to date him before or during RE2R. I feel like he wouldn't even want a relationship during the RE4R — Damnation time frame.

He'll still fall hard, but not dumb. He's seen things now, heard screams, he's traumatized, like legitimately traumatized. Please, give him a hug and just be patient with him after Spain. He needs a moment to rest and for his brain to relax somewhat.

Dates with him are simple, honestly, just pretty basic and cheap. He doesn't need to wear a tuxedo, or go to a penthouse, to enjoy what he has. Orders from a local place, he loves supporting small businesses. If there is none, the way to go is fast food! Sure, he kind of hates it, but it's worth it for you. Cuddled up, watching a stupid show or movie. Movie nights and such with him are amazing! He isn't annoying with talking, and keeps an arm around you at all times.

Pet names galore! Still prefers to use your actual or preferred name, but likes to sometimes go. Babe? Babeeeeee? That was when he knew he fucked up, trying to cook on his own. Then you watched as the apartment exploded, with him awkwardly standing there. :3

Understands the fact he's bad because of everything. He isn't always there to help you. Feels horribly for it, too. Even if you reassure him, it still feels wrong to him for you to feel sad he's gone. He shouldn't even be gone, he should be with you! Hugging you, making Mac and Cheese at 2AM with you! He should be present, and he's not.

Tries to make up for that fact with texting or calls. He needs one every few days, or else he freaks out. Look, he's a mama hen, he worries a lot. For Sherry and Ashley, and you, of course.

Whenever he comes home, all he wants to do is shower with you. No shower sex when he gets home, but two of his favorite things in one place? Sir, yes, sir! Showering with you is his favorite things. Especially when you two start to smack each other with towels, (or the other's ass.)

Still a collector, but this time… It's Gundam PLUS movies. Keeps a few plushies from his childhood. Don't call him out, he'll get all flustered.

Isn't a gamer anymore, his schedule gets pretty clogged up nowadays. Ever since he saved Ashley, he gets put on a lot more missions and such.

Sleeping with him involves an arm around you. Now sleeping like a rock, making you wonder if he's even breaking at points. Will proceed to wrap himself around like a koala, and nuzzle into you. You aren't leaving the bed, you're in his territory, now! You can't fight back or escape…

But you can start a tickle fight, and ultimately lose. He'll pin you down, laughing like an idiot if you even try to tickle him at all. His laugh isn't amazing, that's why he chuckles. He snorts at points, and Leon is pretty self-conscious about it.

Just like with his image about himself. He knows he's pretty, ok? He doesn't want that to be his only thing, though. Getting undermined because you're a pretty boy is tough, and it wears him down. Combat that with noticing something that isn't his eyes, ok? His teeth? His moles? Hands? How he does certain things? How he collects stuff! He'll be ok with you right there, and will be like his rookie self again and again.

!NSFW!

Still emotionally attached to sex. Very emotionally attached to sex. Once in a while you'll see him get all bent out of shape, bending you over his office desk and just go at it. Headlock and all.

Will take the strap, but he needs convincing (it's only a general talk of rules and safe words.) Honestly likes it, likes just being the submissive one. He trusts you to treat him right, and please do. Leon has gone through shit, you can see his mental health declining, and he finds solace sometimes in sex.

Cowgirl kind of man now, wants to hold hands or let you set the pace. Loves to let his hands wander as you get onto riding him. Jokes about you being the cowgirl, and he's just the steed. Might even jokingly wear a cowboy hat. (Take it, iykyk.)

Tug on his hair, he'll moan pitifully. Scratch up his chest and back. Bite at his shoulder to keep quiet. He isn't going to mind anymore, will gladly wear a hickey if he has to. If Hunnigan asks him again one more time why he has a hickey, though… He'll explode from actual embarrassment.

Will suffocate your face if you do suck his dick. Thighs squishing your head and basically breathing in his legs now. He can't help, he's a little sensitive! Don't lick underneath the head, he will literally buck and possibly facefuck you.

Cuddle sex is a must for him, he likes being able to spoon or cuddle with his dick in you! Also, snuggly and his little buddy is warm! It's a win-win for him and you!

Dick size? Probably a 5 1/2 (about 14 centimeters!) inches soft, gets to 7 inches (Almost eighteen centimeters! Basically 17.78 centimeters, so…) PERSONALLY, I feel like Leon tried shaving once before RE2R, cut himself, hated it. Tried again in the RE4R era, and then failed. So, he tries to keep a neat bush, not actual trying to shave all his hair.

-

Welp, now our baby is daddy. He's got a slutty waist, stupid one-liners, dual wields guns, what's next?

Leon is basically a seasoned gentleman now. Offers his jacket or coat more often. Pfft, you want it to yourself? No! You're sharing! Come huddle underneath him as you watch New Year's, Valentine's Day, Christmas, and Thanksgiving! He doesn't care if he looks dumb, you look so cute as a jacket burrito!

Collects DVDs, cassettes, gundam stuff and records! Oh my lord, he has a record player! Slow dances with him! C'mon, it's not stupid, just wait till you're in his arms. Swaying around like dumbasses. Dopey smiles on your face.

Dates this time around are still like RE4R, but local restaurants. Tries to not drink in front of you because of it feels weird. Might get a small shot of whiskey, but that's all.

Pretty stressed with work, he has papers, training rookies, missions, many things. Enjoys if you rake your fingers through his hair, massage his shoulders, get him a snack or drink. Appreciates the small things while he's alive. He might not get them in mere days, he might be dead.

Cuddles with him are nice, your head in his neck, his hand stroking your back. With a movie in the back? Yeah, perfect way to end the day for him.

Will train you of self-defense, because he's gone more often. He sees the president now, he's under the president's order now. Teaches you knife skills, how to shoot a gun, and even make you do a little yoga to be loose. Let's admit it, he'll press against you with a boner. He would, don't lie.

Now he's a mechanic! He'll literally tinker with his motorcycle when he's at home, and his car. Can I just say he's an ok driver? We know he crashes, but he's ok when it's not on a mission. Purposefully speeds up a bit to play around with you, please tell him to stop, he'll do it almost every single time…

Motorcycle rides!!! He wants you to know what it's like to at least be on a motorcycle. His heart will melt if you stick little stickers on his helmet. Doesn't care if he gets laughed at work for it. He's gonna keep those stickers.

Has little idle or casual games on his phone to pass the time. Things like Piano Tiles, Dune, etc. If he isn't playing it, he's probably texting you. Texts in emojis, and sometimes it makes you question if he's ok…

Setbacks? Honestly, there's a lot… He's depressed, we all know he is. Damnation — Vendetta feels like the most saddening for me. RE6 is the center of the storm, the eye. He can be… Drunk. Very drunk, at points. Meaning, he gets irrational, as we see in Vendetta. He cries himself to sleep, he wakes up from nightmares. Leon has a lot happen to him, and it clearly shows. Tense, stressed, tired, and emotional at points.

!NSFW!

Leon is a bit… Lazy. Yeah, I'll say it. He has his spurs of horny energy, but lazy… He wants you to ride him. Let him somno you, or you somno him!

Waking up with your mouth on his cock, grumbling at how you're a good girl for daddy. His hands in your hair as you suck on him like a lollipop. If he even gets a call during it? Shoves your head down on his cock and listens to Hunnigan or whoever on the other side.

Loves to make you wake up with his cock in you, and head buried in your neck. Lazily thrusting or cock warming himself. Murmurs good morning and kisses your neck.

Oh my stars, HE'S SO HORNY WHEN DRUNK? LIKE, OK, Emotional and aggressive drunk Leon who apologizes? But there's another drunk Leon that's HORNY? Dead, my ass is out, and I'm looking over my shoulder at him. I'm not sorry for it.

He'll get on top of you when you sleep and go at it. Whining as you squeeze around his softened dick. And if he cums inside it and it leaks? Slurp, it's gone. Waking up with this idiot in-between in your legs. Pussy juice all over his face.

Daddy kink is, to an extreme, will bend you over the kitchen counter and make you suck his fingers. Have a casual conversation with him, ask “How's your day, daddy?”, did he just cum inside you? He's sorry. (not)

Dick size? Basically the same with RE4R. The bush is still trimmed, and doesn't match the carpet! The drapes are darker!

-

Well, I don't exactly have any stupid or a silly thing to say, cause Vendetta Leon is pretty serious. He isn't fooling around, and I don't see him as moving from partner to partner. Leon is honestly a pretty loyal guy, even if I said otherwise in another head canon. Honestly, they change constantly, so don't take my word for everything.

The only thing I ask you think about is that he is at his lowest low in Resident Evil during this moment. So, we'll try to treat this part 'realistically'. (' ' because I personally haven't dealt with something similar to this, but I'd like to try to be semi-realistic with him.)

Leon's something else in this era, compared to his past ones. It's like he's shut himself off from everything and almost everyone. Even if you started dating him now, or before this era, you're still getting cut off to certain degrees.

Still tries to show he cares, it's not easy. He's confused, deep in his thoughts, and honestly suffering. Alcohol dulls his mind and senses, and it helps him shine through.

Leon wouldn't hurt you, nor even try to lay a hand on you. He can't, he will scream, cry, get frustrated, but hitting is a part he will never EVER do. That'll just hurt his soul more and more. Sex is one thing of love, but he can't hurt you through anger. He can't even squeeze your neck harshly, even if you beg the poor man too.

SNAPPY! So snappy, he will literally chew you out affectionately if you cut something wrong, or hurt yourself! You tripped!? Damn your feet for making you do that! You cut your finger making lunch? Move aside, he’s an expert in cutting. Period? Ok, he isn’t going to be an ass for that. He’ll go out and get anything you want, don’t worry.

Dates with him are more lax, even compared to someone like RE4R Leon, or RE6. He doesn't care enough to just… prepare for a date. It's really hard to explain, because honestly I'm dumb, ok? But sometimes things like these, all he wants is someone he trusts and loves beside him. Your presence is enough, even if you want a date. If you beg hard enough, sure, Uber Eats date. That's what you'll get, or even motorcycle rides.

He still wants you to feel a motorcycle ride, deep down. It's fun, but he's making you wear a helmet. Will joke about you spilling like an egg. If you're scared, that's ok! He gets scared and just acts on adrenaline/instinct!

Wants naps with you, just fall asleep with him. He’ll sleep better with you beside him. Someone to hold and love. Squeezing you gently, hand holding yours, nose buried in your hair. He does a little sniff here and there, your scent brings him home.

Please sit beside him on the floor or couch when he wakes up with a nightmare. Lean your head on his shoulder, just be there for him. Let him know it’s ok and that you’re here. Even if he woke up drunk with a headache, wants to scream, you’re his comfort. Don’t betray his trust, it’s not that easy to truly gain.

Collecting still happens, somewhat. Slowing down because he can’t bother to just enjoy a hobby. There are people dying out there, getting slaughtered by someone who hates a government or certain types of people, or something just overly so feeble-minded. Yes, this people are smart, but sometimes their thought process is something else. He can’t deal with the fact he can sit here and kill people, or watch them be killed. That he can sit there, listen to music, or watch TV. Even after the movie, we’ll say between the point of the end of Vendetta and Death Island, he does change. It doesn’t mean he thinks it’s ok.

This change comes with small things:

Leon becomes less drunk, and honestly I would say he would go to therapy. It helps him, and kudos to him. Mega slay, get yourself the help you need.

Maybe even a little more social. Chris really helped, and you did too! He means it when he says he needed someone beside him, even if you’re telling him to get help and constantly fight over his state. He’s thankful for someone worrying about him.

Little gacha machines and trinkets for his gun, he collects guns and gundams. I’m gonna say it. I’m gonna say it… Gundam COLLECTOR. Period. We all know he probably likes doing stuff with his hands. (That isn’t fingering you-) Cleaning guns, fixing motorcycles, THINGS!!!

Gets honestly a little happy every time you send him a text, or put something stupid on his gun or his daily life things. Face, motorcycle, helmet, gun, even his knife. Likes seeing you giggle and happy in general, this goes for any damn Leon. I love the small things, and I don't care what anyone else SAYS.

!NSFW!

Drunk and lazy sex, still!!! Somno!! Let him wake you up to him being a pussy munch, please! He gets so happy when he sees you wake up and then blush. Just jokes on being hungry for breakfast, and then just starts eating there again! Like, warn me? He isn’t, he does it twice a week. (We like it, Leon, you sweetheart.)

When he starts feeling better, he’s gonna get a little frisky. Might choke you a little, but you gotta still talk with him about everything. He isn’t an asshole, nor does he honestly want to be.

The idea of a vibrator inside you at a store? He’s flicking it up and down, they’ll just think he’s a good boyfriend! Little did they know, you just squirt in your panties. Kisses your whimpers and moans away, can’t let anyone know, can we?

Likes you making marks on him! It’s hot to him, why are you so embarrassed? Who’s gonna ask why the hell there’s a hickey on his neck? Or a slap mark on his ass? C’mon, live a little! Only one life, and he wants to live it now! So, MARK HIM! 

Still takes the strap, do it when he’s drunk. He starts whining, might even start fucking himself onto the strap. You’re just trying to worry because he starts going so fast, and he’s just screaming. Yikes, you might get a noise complainant because of him. Cums so fast when he’s drunk and riding you, sweet baby boy, it’s ok…

His drapes are kind of unruly, honestly. Please, break into his room and trim them, man… Unless you like that. The carpets and drapes basically match.

-

You love to rush him, don't you? Either or not you stayed with him from RE2R, got him during RE6 or Vendetta, or just randomly coming onto his radar. He's feeling better, and he's kicking ass while doing it.

Dates with him are honestly gonna be pretty normal. Now he's doing restaurants, but not overly fancy. That's for a wedding, or a baby. Local restaurants, staying home watching movies, walks in the park, or even workout dates. Are those even a thing? Now they are.

He's gonna coach you if you ever do do workouts. Will one up you, and wants you to do it back. Make him eat his words, that's the fun in it! Get the blood and competition going! At least sit with him when he works out, or when does yoga? Lay underneath him when he does push-ups. Give him smooches, he lives for them. Hold down his feet when he does sit-ups. Kiss him when he comes up!

Sleep in on work with him, don't worry, he can get away with it… Usually. Play with his hair, kiss his cheek, hug his torso, he's falling asleep. Old man hugs you tightly against him, and you're both passing out. Only waking up when Hunnigan is calling him repeatedly for a mission.

Really clingy for a boyfriend. Like, I get he's a clingy middle-aged man. But he wants to hold you every single second. Arm around your waist, kissing your hand, squeezing your hip. Don't run! He's trained! You got three seconds to come back before he chases you down!

Wants to see you wear his clothes. His leather jacket!? You slept with it? Will sneak a picture of it, and accidentally leave his flash on. Frantically apologizes as he woke you up, and then sneaks off somehow. He's got to remember to turn that damned flash off…

Try sweets with him! All Leons have a sweet tooth, but especially RE2R and DI! Here, have you tried this? Or this? O-Or th— OH I'M SO SORRY! You just have to stand there with either so many flavors or tastes in your mouth. He just got excited! Here, do it back to him!

Slow dancing at anytime with him. Let him spin you around slowly and just be there with you. He isn't amazing, but he loves feeling you there with him.

Debate about Disney movies with him, he'll actually debate back. He's got all the movies on VHS, DVD, and of course he has them on Disney+! He ain't selling 'em when he's old and wrinkly! He won't let you take them!

Matching jackets with him, or shirts! He takes so many photos! Leon can't help it, the last one didn't capture your essence!

Still uses emojis like an idiot. And sends selfies of him mid-battle or coming back on heli/plane. Leaves cute voice messages! Don't make him speak in a cutesy voice, he'll fail miserably.

Wrestling is a must, he gets into it sometimes. He's pretty gentle, honestly. Why struggle in his big manly arms? Don't leave him! See, he's crying! You made poor old man Leon cry!

Relaxed motorcycle rides, hold on to him tight! He drives recklessly, but trust his skill! You're in good hands.

Actually, hold that thought… Leon loves hands. Shave his stubble, squeeze his arm, do many dirty things or wholesome things to him. Like, he's honestly so soft.

Setbacks? Honestly, it's a mix of RE4R and RE6. Cries himself to sleep. Wants you with him when it does happen. Tries to use what he was taught, and sometimes it does and doesn't work. So, man does drink the pain away at points. It isn't as bad as Vendetta, but the pain isn't over. Sadly, he's forced himself to get used to it. The bad guys always pop up, and he doesn't even know if younger people can handle them. The burdens of being the president's lapdog are stressful. Let's remember one key thing, Leon didn't even willingly become his lapdog. Like, period. LET HIM LIVE HIS LIFE WITH YOU!!

!NSFW!

You can't say it hasn't crossed Leons mind to have motorcycle sex! Dude, he will tease you on his bike. Cup your mound and slip his fingers to your folds. Fucks you on that bike hard, it's such a turn-on for him at this point. He can't deny it, every single Leon can't deny it. (RE6 — DI) Always gets away with it, somehow.

Wearing lingerie for him? Lace… He will drop to his knees and put his head on your thigh. Blue eyes pleading you let him fuck you. You're so beautiful!

You'll look so much more beautiful with his cum on your body! Let him jerk-off and cum on you! Your face, pussy, stomach, chest, thighs… Did he get hard again? He snaps so many pictures and gets them done. Possibly even a Polaroid, gotta keep some encouragement in his wallet.

BOOBSSS! He can't help but love your boobs so much. Like in RE2R, he wants to hold them. Do a little sucking on them, kiss your nipples, and titty fucking? Let him shove his dick between those breasts and go hammer at it.

Thighs as well? THIGH FUCKING!! Paint those pretty thighs in white, cause he ain't holding back!

Shower sex? Mmmmm, cutely wash each other than washing the sex off AS you have sex? Complain when the water starts getting cold, he's gonna be a little shit and spray cold water on your pussy. Do it back at him, he'll scream like a girl!

Will make you apologize for that by making you give his balls some loving? Oh, you don't want hair with your food? Shut up, you don't have to pay anything! It's SEASONING! Will literally have one hand pushing you into his balls to suck on, while playing some stupid game on his phone or texting Hunnigan.

Teasing texts + selfies. Leon levels up in that stuff, omg. He sucks in RE2R, but he's getting pretty ok at it! Teases you with a bulge pic if he can. Or shirtless pics? Spits out his drink when he gets to see pretty breasts or your cute little pussy. Furiously texts back saying “MORE” (Then adds “pls and ty :)”)

Drapes are slightly darker, and back to being trimmed! Balls are a little bigger because I said so.

Just wanted to add a little something at the bottom... THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FIFTY FOLLOWERS! I'm so surprised I got there within a week! Y'all are so sweet! And thanks to all the people who've been so nice to me too :(( I hope I can soon be up to good expectations!

[wholoveseggs]

Hello, how are you? Could i request an angsty but smutty and fluff fic of Elijah and reader where they get into a fight but makeup in the end?

Stubborn

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You and Elijah get into a fight about his protective nature. He thinks you are too stubborn, and you think he's too controlling. How will you resolve your issues?

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I don't know if this is very angsty, but it certainly is very smutty ♡♡

4.1k words - Warnings: smuttttt, very little plot, Cami being the best, dom!elijah (you like him in control? well... here you go...), fingering, squirting, angry sex...

"I'm not some damsel in distress, I don't need your protection!" You yelled, louder than you meant to. Arguing with Elijah was always a test of your restraint. He made it so damn difficult, he was always calm and composed. Sometimes you just wanted to push his buttons.

"Darling, I have so many enemies, and you're not invincible." He tried to reason.

"Don't patronize me, I know that, but you treat me like I can't take care of myself!" You snapped, pacing around the living room. You tried to calm yourself down, you didn't want to say something you'd regret, but the anger bubbling inside you wouldn't go away.

"I'm not trying to patronize you, I just think you could make better decisions." He said softly, his eyes following you as you paced.

"It's like you're treating me like a child! We're supposed to be equals, and you always talk to me like you're the parent and I'm the kid!" Your voice cracked a little, when you got angry you also would cry. You hated that about yourself.

Elijah could see the pain in your eyes, you were his soft and sweet y/n. He just wanted to protect you. He tried to approach you, to hold you and comfort you, but you pushed him away.

His actions made you feel weak, and foolish, here was a man that faced countless dangers, he was centuries old, he fought vampires and werewolves, witches and even his own siblings. And you were just this fragile thing, this tiny human he had to watch out for. It made you feel so weak and pathetic, all your insecurities bubbling up inside you, the tears falling down your cheeks.

You stormed away from him, and he let you, because he knew if he pushed you, it would just make things worse.

You had been dating Elijah for two months now, and in that time, he had taken on the role of a protective boyfriend. You liked being taken care of, but sometimes it felt like he didn't see you as an equal.

You had been arguing about this a lot lately. You didn't like being treated like you were breakable. You weren't. You had dealt with plenty of dangers in your life, and he didn't give you enough credit.

He was a stubborn man, and you were a stubborn woman, so the tension kept rising, until you finally had to get away from him. So you decided to stay at Cami's for a few days, she was a good friend, and she didn't judge you. She could always use some company anyways.

"So, he's a bit over protective, huh?" Cami asked. You were curled up on her couch, drinking a glass of wine. You were both having a night in, wearing pajamas and doing self-care.

"Yeah, and I know he means well, but I really value my independence, it's not something I'm willing to give up," You admitted.

"Do you feel like he doesn't respect you?" She asked, taking a sip of her own wine.

"No, he does, I know that, but it feels like he doesn't trust me." You said, looking down into your glass.

Cami stood and grabbed some snacks, tossing you a bag of your favorite chips. "I don't think that's it, I think he's scared. Scared to lose you. He's been through so much, and he's lost a lot of people he's loved." She said, plopping back down on the couch.

You let out a long sigh, you knew of his pain, but it was still hard to hear out loud. He held all of his trauma inside him, and sometimes it was difficult for him to share, even with you.

"I love him Cami, it's just hard. I've always had to take care of myself, I guess I just have a hard time accepting someone wanting to do that for me." You said softly, feeling the tears brimming your eyes.

"Have you told him that? That you love him?" She asked.

"No, I... I want him to say it first." You admitted.

Cami chuckled and took a long sip of her wine, then grabbed the remote and turned on a movie. It was one of those sappy romances that were so over the top and cheesy. But that's why they were so fun to watch.

"Just tell him. I'm sure he loves you too." Cami said, her gaze fixed on the tv.

"I know," you sighed, "I just want him to initiate, his so reserved, and I'm tired of always being the one who has to take the first step." You grumbled.

"He's probably worried about scaring you away, or making things awkward, you know how he can be." She said, turning to look at you, giving you a comforting smile.

"Yeah, I guess." You mumbled, curling up further on the couch.

Cami gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and the two of you continued to watch your movie, the sappy love story playing out in front of you.

"So," she said, breaking the silence, "how's the sex?"

You choked on your wine, sputtering a bit before regaining your composure. Cami was a little shit sometimes.

"The sex is amazing," You said, smirking at her. "But... I'm always the one initiating it. Sometimes I think his biggest problem is that he's too gentlemanly."

"Well, what have you done to make him be more spontaneous?" Cami asked, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring more in her glass.

"Me?" You squeaked. "What did I do?"

"Maybe he doesn't want to take control because you never gave him permission." She asked.

You sat and thought about that. You were usually the one who would start things. You initiated kisses, hugs, hand holding, even the sex. Elijah was so reserved, so proper, he didn't want to overstep. It made you feel like he didn't desire you, which was ridiculous, you had seen him undressing you with his eyes.

"That's fair." You said. "I didn't realize he was waiting for permission."

"Men are idiots." Cami stated, making you laugh.

"Sometimes," you said, chuckling. "I just want to see him be the one to initiate, you know?"

"I know." She said, leaning back on the couch.

You finished the bottle of wine and watched the rest of the movie. It was so sweet, the ending was a happy one, the couple was together and they were in love. You wished life was that simple.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. Cami was already awake, making coffee.

"Ugh," you groaned, rubbing your temples. "I should have drank more water,"

"I tried to remind you." Cami said, smirking at you.

"Well, excuse me for being drunk," You replied.

She handed you a mug of coffee, and you sipped it slowly, letting the warmth of the drink soothe your throat.

"Thanks for letting me stay here," you said.

"You know I don't mind." She replied, sitting on the couch next to you.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, sighing.

"I love him, but I think I need some space. Some time to myself." You said softly.

"I think that's a good idea." She replied.

"Are we doing the right thing? Am I being selfish?" You asked, chewing your bottom lip.

"No, you're not. You're being realistic. You need some space and some time to yourself." She replied.

"I'm going to go to the compound and pick up some clothes and stuff." You said.

"Want me to come with you?" She asked.

"No, that's ok, I think I can handle myself." You replied, smiling at her.

She gave you a reassuring squeeze and you got up, feeling a bit better after your talk.

"Thanks Cami, I'll call you later," You said, grabbing your keys and heading out.

Elijah was sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of whiskey, and he had a book open in front of him, though he wasn't reading it. His mind was too preoccupied. He missed you terribly, it had only been a couple days, but it felt like an eternity.

He thought back to the last conversation you had had. You had stormed off, and he hadn't chased after you, because he knew you needed time to cool down. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, but he knew you didn't want to hear it right now.

You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he didn't want to lose you. He was used to losing people, he had spent centuries running, he had been betrayed, lied to, hurt. But he had never met anyone quite like you.

You were sweet, funny, smart, and caring. He had fallen for you quickly, but he had been too afraid to admit it. Like if he said it out loud, everything would fall apart.

But in your absence he realized his mistake, and how foolish he had been. No more wasting time, he needs to tell you that he loves you, despite how stubborn you are.

You walked into the compound, it was eerily quiet, you hoped Elijah was out. So you could just quickly grab your things and leave.

You didn't expect him to be waiting for you in the kitchen, his face was serious, but his eyes were full of emotion.

"Elijah, I'm just here to pick up some clothes," You said, trying to walk past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

"We need to talk." He said, his tone firm.

"No, we really don't, I just want my things," You said, trying to move around him. He moved again, his arms crossed, and his face was stern.

"Stop treating me like a child! Let me by!" You yelled. He let you pass him and you ran up to your bedroom, grabbing some clothes.

He followed you and stood in the doorway, watching you, his eyes boring into your skin.

"Stop looking at me like that," You said, throwing some clothes into a bag.

"I hate seeing you upset," He replied, his voice soft.

"I'm not upset, I'm just angry." You said, moving past him to go into the bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush.

He followed you and leaned against the doorframe, watching you gather your toiletries.

"Please, let's just talk." He pleaded.

You sighed, looking up at him, his expression was pained, his jaw was clenched. You could see the desperation in his eyes. Your anger was still in charge though and you pushed past him again and started packing your things on the bed.

"So talk, I'm listening," You said harshly, still not looking at him.

He took a deep breath, his fists clenched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself. He knew he couldn't get through to you when you were angry like this.

"You're right," He said, opening his eyes and looking at you. "I'm sorry. I haven't been treating you fairly. I've been trying to protect you. But you are being stubborn and you're not letting me explain,"

You turned to look at him, trying to ignore how good he looked. His hair was messy, like he had been running his hands through it, and he was wearing a black shirt, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie was hanging loose around his neck. A part of you wanted to just give in and kiss him, but the other part of you was still pissed off.

He could hear your heart beating faster, your body temperature rising. He knew that he had an effect on you, and he was enjoying seeing you get flustered. He gave you a crooked smirk, and took a step closer to you, and you backed up, hitting the bed.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady your breathing. You were angry, but his presence always made your body react, and your head spin.

"So stubborn," he growled, pushing you onto the bed.

"Fuck you, Elijah," you hissed, trying to sit up.

"Not today," he smirked, pinning you down with his weight.

"I said, fuck you," You growled, pushing on his chest.

He chuckled and leaned down, his face inches from yours. His eyes were dark, his lips curled up in a devilish smile.

"Say please," He purred, his breath ghosting over your lips.

You let out a frustrated groan, and he kissed you, hard. You whimpered, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring it, tasting you.

"Is this what you want? To be fucked?" He whispered, his lips grazing your ear.

"No," you lied, trying to squirm away from him, but his grip was too tight.

"Don't lie, darling, your body betrays you," He growled, nibbling your earlobe before leaving a trail of hickeys down your neck.

He suddenly tore the shirt off of you, making you gasp. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling your skirt off.

"Eli- my clothes!" You whined, but he just chuckled, his eyes roaming your body.

"I'll buy you new ones," He smirked, nipping at your jaw, then capturing your lips with his.

"You can't just-" you were cut off by him biting your lip. You groaned and he released you, his hands roaming your body.

"Stop being so stubborn," He whispered, his fingers brushing over your lace panties, making you shiver.

"I'm not," you argued, biting back a moan as his fingers teased your clit.

He laid on his side next to you, opening your legs and pushing your panties out of the way. He grazed over your clit with the pad of his index finger, teasing you slowly. He loved this, teasing you, torturing you. You were so beautiful when you were desperate for him.

You whined and pushed your hips against his hand, and he pulled his hand away, smirking.

"You're such a tease," You growled, glaring at him.

"You're cute when you're angry," He smiled, his fingers returning to your pussy. He tapped your clit lightly, his lips ghosting over yours. You tried not to react, but it felt so good, this dominant side of him was driving you crazy.

He slid two fingers into you, and began thrusting them slowly. You gasped and arched your back, moaning loudly. Watching your reaction was thrilling, his cock was painfully hard, but he wanted to make you cum first.

"Listen to those sweet sounds," he purred, pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right. “So filthy and wet, the way your body responds, it's like you were made for me."

"You're a fucking asshole," you moaned, trying to buck your hips against his fingers.

"I can stop, if you want," He whispered, his voice dark. 

"No," You whimpered, "I-I'm close."

"Oh, I know, darling." He smiled, "You're going to cum, and I'm going to make you cum again, and again, until all the stubborn thoughts in your head disappear."

His fingers were pumping fast now, and you couldn't help the noises you were making. Your orgasm was building in such a way that you knew it would be intense. He was right, you were stubborn, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, but it was becoming more and more difficult to hold back.

"Eli- wait, your gonna make me-" You stuttered, gasping as he added a third finger, stretching you even more.

"Make a mess?" He purred, curling his fingers just right, hitting your g-spot.

The lewd, wet, squelching noises coming from your pussy were embarrassing, and the fact that he was enjoying them made it worse. He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, your whole body trembling, you were so close.

He sped up his pace, and he could see the moment when you reached your peak. Your body tensed up, your back arching, and then a loud cry escaped your lips.

Your juices spilled out onto his fingers, covering his hand. It was so much, you had never squirted before, and the look on Elijah's face was pure lust and amusement.

It made you embarrassed and a bit angry and you tried to move away, but he kept his fingers buried deep inside you, not letting you escape.

"Don't be ashamed," He said, kissing your forehead, his fingers moving slowly, causing your legs to tremble.

"I'm not," You panted, glaring at him, trying to suppress a moan.

"Really?" He purred, his eyes locking with yours, "Then why are you blushing?"

He smirked, and you tried to hide your face in the sheets, but he wouldn't let you. He was still smirking, and you were getting angrier.

"I'm not-"

"Shh, love, you can't hide from me," he cooed, his fingers still pumping into you, stretching you out. Building up another climax.

"Eli-fuck," You gasped, the pleasure building.

"That's it, let me hear those pretty sounds," He whispered, his voice husky.

He was still fully clothed, and he hadn't even touched himself, he was only focused on you.

He kept fucking his fingers into you, his thumb circling your clit, making sure every inch of your pussy was being stimulated.

Your body was trembling, and you could feel yourself getting close again, you pushed your heels into the bed, trying to get away, but he didn't stop, he just kept going, his pace relentless.

"I can't- oh fuck-," You gasped, arching your back as the orgasm crashed over you. Your wetness soaked his hand and the bed below.

Elijah pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean. Then he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips, tasting all of you.

You tried to glare at him, but he was now kissing your neck, his free hand moving down to cup your breast, teasing your nipples.

"I'm still mad at you," You panted, trying not to moan.

"I know," He smirked, "And I'm not finished with you."

He grabbed your thighs, spreading your legs, and settled between them, his eyes roaming over your body.

"Such a pretty thing," He murmured, tracing patterns on your skin.

He took ahold of your waist, pulling you towards him, and began to grind against your wet pussy, making you whimper.

"You're so sensitive, baby," He cooed, his lips brushing over your collarbone.

You could feel his erection straining against his pants, and you could tell he was enjoying this just as much as you were. He undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops, and tossing it to the floor.

He pulled your arms above your head, his hand gripping your wrists. He unzipped his pants and took his cock out, pressing it against your entrance.

"You're already soaked for me," He whispered, kissing you deeply.

You moaned into the kiss, and he pushed his cock into you, making you whimper. He was so thick, and his length filled you completely, making your body tremble.

He began to thrust into you, his pace steady, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing over your skin.

"I'm not a toy," You managed to say, your voice strained.

"No, you're not, you're mine," He growled, his hips slamming into yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Fuck," You gasped, arching your back.

His grip on your wrists tightened, and he spread your legs even wider. He grinded his hips slowly, wanting to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible.

You could feel the pressure building, and it was becoming harder to concentrate, all you could focus on was his cock, his weight on top of you, the way he was looking at you.

"Say it," He growled, his hips moving faster now. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," You moaned, your voice cracking, your resolve breaking with every deep stroke.

The sound of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy filled the room, mixed with your moans and gasps, and the way the bed was creaking. He knew you were close, he could feel your muscles starting to clench around him.

"No no stubborn one, you don't get to cum yet," He growled, nipping at your ear.

He wrapped your legs around his waist, pinning you to the bed. His pace increased and he leaned in to kiss you.

"Come on darling, give in, admit I'm right," He whispered.

"Eli, please," You moaned, your fingers gripping his shirt.

"All you have to do is submit," He cooed, pressing his lips to yours.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to resist the urge to give in, but it was so intense and his pace was relentless. He wasn't going to stop, not until you broke.

"Look at the way you open up for me," He said, his voice husky as he grinded against you. "Your needy little pussy, milking my cock, begging to be filled."

You looked down at where his cock was buried inside of you, moving in and out of your pussy. You could see how wet you were, covering his pants and your thighs, making a mess of the sheets.

"Hmm, you like that? Seeing how wet you are, all for me," He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. "Just admit that you are stubborn, and we can cum together."

Your whole body was shaking, your orgasm so close, but you fought it, squeezing your thighs together, trying to close your legs, but he wouldn't let you.

You gave up, you didn't care about the fight anymore, you just wanted to cum, you just wanted him to stop torturing you. You couldn't think straight, everything was too much, his thrusts were deep and hard, his cock was filling you, stretching you out, he knew just how to fuck you.

You couldn't hold back anymore and you finally gave in, submitting to him. "You're right," you gasped, your voice barely audible. "Please, Eli, fuck, I'm sorry, just let me cum."

"Good girl," He groaned, leaning back and spreading your thighs wide, pounding into you. He began to stroke your clit with his thumb, drawing circles, as his hips snapped hard and fast.

It was all too much, and you felt an intense release, your body convulsing, your wetness soaking him, making a mess of the clothes he was still wearing and the bed.

He chuckled, watching your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he fucked you through it. He made you squirt all over him, submitting to him completely.

You were still trembling, trying to catch your breath, you couldn't focus, your whole body was tingling with pleasure, you felt like you were floating.

He kissed you deeply, pressing his body to yours before he let out a low groan and came inside you, his cock twitching. You shuddered, your pussy still sensitive, but he didn't stop, he continued moving his hips slowly.

You could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, his cock throbbing, his breathing uneven. He kissed you softly and slowly, his fingers brushing over your cheek, caressing your face as he pulled out of you.

Now that you had come down from your high, you felt a mixture of frustration and humiliation. You tried to move, but he held you there, a devilish grin plastered on his face.

He shifted onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, your body on top of his, your chest pressing against his chest.

"I love you," he whispered, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Eli," you muttered, burying your face in his chest. You couldn't believe he had fucked you in that way, and now he was saying the three words you wanted to hear the most. He was so perfect and so infuriating at the same time. You were angry that he was able to make you give in so easily, but it was worth it. It had never felt so good.

"I love you too, asshole," you replied, making him laugh.

He kissed you once more before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back, tracing lazy circles.

"I'm sorry for being protective, it's not because I don't trust you, it's because I'm afraid of losing you," he said quietly.

"I know, and I'm sorry for saying that you're a control freak," you apologized.

"No you're not," He smirked, kissing you again.

"I'm getting there," you sighed.

He laughed, tracing the curve of your hips with his fingertips. You could feel him harden underneath you, and it turned you on again. And you slowly ground your hips against his, teasing him.

His eyes grew dark, and he placed his hands on your ass, squeezing firmly. "Darling, don't," He said warningly, his voice strained.

You ignored him, rolling your hips, grinding into his lap, you wanted more.

"Don't be so stubborn Eli-,"

You were on your back before you could finish your sentence, your legs spread, his lips on yours.

You were definitely going to fight with him more often…

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[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[saerotonins]

the love that came back

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

"what more could you wish for?

when the love you once lost, came back into your arms again,"

content warnings: jjk shibuya arc spoilers, angst, fluff if you really squint, little dialogues, going through grief and depression, pure pain, just reader's life through her perspective, implied major character death, bittersweet, depictions of the afterlife, happy ending (i promise)

wc: 4,933

note: i'll just be letting my feelings out because we're about to mourn LMAO enjoy!

inspired by and best enjoyed with: this love by taylor swift

October 31, 2018

when you heard a knock on the door, you expected kento to great you with a smile on his face and a sweet kiss to your lips.

but what you got instead is shoko right in front of your doorstep, giving you the news that your fiancée lost his life in the middle of the war across shibuya— then you felt like your world had crumbled right before your very eyes. he had promised. he had promised to come home to you tonight and come trick-or-treating and give the kids around the neighborhood some candies.

kento never breaks his promises, especially when it comes to you.

but there's always a first time, as they say.

you felt your knees turn into jelly as you fall onto the floor, eyes wide, and heart incredibly shattered. you couldn't believe what you were hearing, this must be a sick fucking joke. there's no way the love of your life is just gone like that. he doesn't fucking deserve this.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," you hear shoko said as she guides your limp body to sit on the couch but you could hardly hear her between your ragged breaths and the ringing in your ears.

what would her apology do anyway? would that sorry bring him back? would that bring him to your arms once again? 

you feel your eyes swell with tears and let them fall off as they please. you wail in shoko's arms, you let out the loudest screams you ever let out in your entire life but none of those did anything to the amount of pain your heart is currently bearing. and for shoko, who has seen a fair share of gore and violence in her life, has never been so disturbed and heartbroken when she saw you wept and mourn for your lover.

that night when shoko left you on your own (not that she had the choice), you drank the fruit flavored champagne you usually sip with kento as he enjoys his whiskey, downing it like it was water but it tasted different.

there's this saying that alcohol tasted better when you're happy and around the people you cherish the most.

your sweet champagne started to taste bitter ever since, and a part of you died that day.

the days have gotten colder.

you miss the way kento's arms would wrap around you, you miss the warmth that he provided, something the heater in your shared home couldn't give.

you feel empty, everything has gone silent, and you hate it. at times like this, when kento is home, you would hear him hum with the vinyl he chose to listen to going along the silent rustle of either the newspaper or a book he had been looking forward to read.

now it's just silence. it's all new to you. you almost even forgot how your voice sounded like because you had no one to talk to.

for the past few weeks, your family and friends, even shoko had visited you to make sure you were okay. but whenever they try to initiate a conversation, they only get either a curt nod or nothing. they have also noticed the change you have been going through. the usual sparkle in your eyes gone, you've gone extremely quiet, your appetite has drastically changed, but they understood nonetheless. 

a few days ago, with the help of his family and from the mercy of any entity that existed out there, the jujutsu tech was able to retrieve kento's body, whatever is left, that is— cremated him and finally held a proper burial. that's the least he deserves.

you asked if you could keep some of his ashes in a little urn, and his family, bless their hearts, agreed as they know that both of you share the pain of losing a loved one. there, it sits in his study together with his pictured frame. another one also sits on your chest, a necklace that holds some of your beloved. a piece of reminder that you and him will still be together.

you walk towards back to the living room, seeing the mess that has been made because truthfully speaking, cleaning up the house was the least pf your problems when you had a lot going through. it has been really rough. every night, at 7 pm, you yearn for the knock of your door, kento's voice declaring his arrival, "hon, i'm home," he would usually say.

now, it's all gone. the clothes he had worn the previous days still in the laundry bags, untouched, for the fear that his scent might go away. 

it scares you. the thought of forgetting the sound of his voice, his smell, his warmth, his company, not being near your reach, terrifies you to the core. but you have to face it all. put on a brave face, live on a life where he doesn't exist anymore. but deep in your bones, your heart, and your soul.

he's still around.

he should be. he promised eternal life with you, willingly get on one knee to put on the prettiest engagement ring you had ever seen.

the saddest part is, he wouldn't be able to see you walk down the aisle. both of you had dreamt of a wedding so perfect. you designing your own gown that would compliment his, a small wedding enough for your family and closest friends, and a honeymoon trip to malaysia where you could just bask in each other's presence, forgetting everything and savor each moment.

he had promised you forever.

and kento never lies. 

but then again, there's always a first time.

it has been months. nothing has changed.

you still feel so empty. nothing has changed around the house either. sure, the living room is clean enough but the bedroom you once shared with kento stayed the same.

you refuse to wash his clothes that was in the laundry basket, you refused to wash the bedsheets, you refused to even make up his side of the bed. and despite how much you missed him, you refuse to sleep on his side of the bed, fearing that sleeping over his scent would lose him completely. it was exhausting to yearn for someone you know is not going back, but you do it anyway.

from the tailoring shop you own, many bride-to-be's are going in and out to pick out wedding dresses with their pretty engagement rings decorating their hand. it feels like a slap to the face, angering even. why do these women have to be so happy picking out the perfect wedding gown while you're out there sulking, stuck with what if's and what could have been.

what could have been your gown? his suit? what could have your wedding venue look like? what could have happen in your honeymoon?

and when you realize that it will always stay that way, it fills you with envy, but more so with sorrow.

it's so unfair to be mad at these people who were lucky enough to find the one but you couldn't help it.

you just also hate the pity smiles they give you when you answer their question, "when's your wedding?" once they caught a glimpse of the engagement ring kento gave you with, "my fiancée passed away," with a forced smile on your face. you're just thankful they don't push you to answer any more questions.

the ring kento gave you is one thing that you will never remove. aside from your necklace, this is a reminder that kento loved you enough to propose, to ask your hand in marriage. that may not be enough considering your situation, but it is something, so you keep it around anyway.

when the shop has finally closed for the day, you come home, sit on his study and sketch more of the wedding dress ideas that you had on your what could have been wedding with kento. you have gone through almost 3 journals sketching everything aside from the dresses. it was venues, suits that he could've worn, your dress, and of course sketches of the both of you walking down the aisle.

whenever you sketch, a tear falls down, then another, and another, until you cry a river all over the page, not caring if the lead from the pencil is barely there due to the wet pages or the ink from your pen is smudging. when you go back to the pages, you see it. you don't mind that it has become messy, it represents the feelings that you have. the yearning, the grieving, the sorrow of a what could've been wife to a what could've been husband.

more months pass by and it's still the same.

it's empty, it's all routine. you wake up, wash your face from the dried tears that you wept from the night before, shower, get dressed, go to kento's study just to admire his face from the picture frame where his urn is placed and say your goodbyes as you kiss his pretty face through the the frame and off you go to work.

it's clockwork, but you don't mind. it's one of the few things that kept you sane, but a deep burning hole in your heart still fire ablaze, waiting to be set off. you doubt it will happen, but some coping might help, so you pretend that you don't mind.

when the night comes, you still prepare meals enough for two, it's muscle memory, you seem to master making portions of two and you plan to keep it that way. it's one of the only ways that keeps you alive. you either save the other half on the fridge or give them to your neighbors.

you had also convinced yourself to wash the bedsheets, but you always remember to spray kento's cologne on his side so it feels like he never left, but his clothes on the laundry basket remains untouched. you have gone through multiple bottles of his favorite perfume from spraying almost every surface of the house, it's expensive but it doesn't matter. as long as it helps to keep his memory, you don't mind.

your friends and family visit you from time to time, to check up on you. they know you're just putting a smile on your face, it's obvious, because your eyes don't shine like they used to, but that's fine enough for them. they also noticed how the house strongly smells like him, but they don't complain anyway.

and as you close your eyes, you take one careful sniff of his pillow that you have grown accustomed to embracing every night (but you know it doesn't feel the same but it would suffice), and drift yourself to sleep as quiet tears fall down.

today is a pretty quiet day. you took a week off from the shop but you're lucky enough that your sister is more than willing to help you. you've been doing nothing but cleaning around the house, watching shows, doing strolls across the neighborhood, visiting parks, and mostly sleeping. it wasn't the most productive way of spending your days off but these are just the things you do with kento when he was still... alive.

it was usually lively when you do it, but now it's quite different. the hums he would usually do to accompany the vinyl he is playing and the quiet rustle whenever he turns a page on his books, all gone. the silence is so loud that you could swear you can hear a hair pin drop. you could only hear the swirls of the fan and your breaths. 

it's silent but it's deafening.

you stood up from the couch and decided to spend some time in his study. these months, you had been spending a lot of time there, doing whatever you can to bring some life into it. 

kento has always been an organized man, not a speck of dust present or a single item misplaced. but ever since, you always thought that it looked like no one was there to inhabit it anymore. so, with a silent apology, you try rearranging things around, keep his lounge and study chair warm but that's about it.

once you entered his study, you remembered that kento has a lot of books left unread. he has been planning to get around and read it. but now he can't, the thought just broke your heart.

skimming through his shelves that was adorned with many books, one caught your eye. it was slightly misplaced, leaning towards another book with a bookmark sticking out.

kim jiyoung, born 1982, it read.

you remember this book.

October 24, 2018

"dear," kento had called out as you were scrolling through your phone with your head on his lap.

"you should read this book sometime, i think you'll like it," he said, making the book cover more visible so you can read the title.

"kim jiyoung, born 1982?" you read out loud.

"yeah, it's a very powerful book from what i've read so far, i think you'll feel the same way about it,"

you hummed, with the busy schedule around the shop, you're not so sure, "i'll borrow it from you when i finally have the time, besides, you can finish reading it first and tell me your thoughts about it, how's that sound?" you say with a smile on your face.

"sounds like a plan, but i can read it a lot to you right now?" 

you like the idea he proposed, his voice is relaxing so you definitely won't mind.

"okay, but i like it better when you read it to me anyway," 

a small smile escaped from kento's lips as a playfully scoffs, "whatever you say."

you hear him clear his throat before reading, "when jiyoung was in fiftth grade..." 

for the next few pages, you felt your eyes grow heavier as you heard his soothing voice grow quiet and let yourself drift asleep.

you regret sleeping on his voice that day. if you would've known it was the last time you would hear him read a book to you, you would've listened more attentively, record his voice, and listen some more. you feel your lips quiver as you feel tears threatening to leave your eyes.

you pick up the book and opened the page where the bookmark sits and you realize he's almost halfway through. you remember him saying that he'll get back to reading it after halloween once his schedule opens up.

guess that will never happen.

you sit on the lounge chair on the drawer where his urn and picture frame is placed. through shaky hands, you remove the bookmark and open the book wider.

"kento, i'm sorry if my voice isn't as soothing as yours but i will try and help you finish this, so just listen and relax, alright?" you voice is shaky and cracking, and you hope he won't mind, you he will listen just like you did, you hope he closes his eyes and rest wherever he is.

after releasing a ragged sigh, you read, "jiyoung's mother received information that the new..."

as you read through the pages, your ready becomes more and more sloppy, sometimes having to repeat sentences or words when you feel like you didn't say them properly. some of its pages soaked with your tears, and take deep breathes when the pain is caught up in your throat. you give kento a silent apology for ruining his books. 

and you hope it's enough, because that's all you can do.

hope.

from then on, you finish book after book during your free time, slowly going through the unread books across his shelves. as time passes by, you may have gone through a lot of his books but reading them never goes easier. every time, you would flood the pages with tears, your breaths are never steady, and by the end of every reading, you would hug the book and close your eyes, sometimes creasing some of its parts.

and you hope he doesn't mind.

July 03, 2019

this is his first birthday that you would have to celebrate alone. and the thought breaks your heart.

as you set the cake on the table beside his picture frame and light the numbered candles.

you blankly at the flames on the cake. he would've been 28 today.

you take a very deep breath and started to sing.

"happy birthday to you," tears started forming in your eyes, singing the song out of tune and through your shaky breaths, "happy birthday to you,"

"happy birthday, my dearest kento," you take another deep breath.

"happy birthday to you." you sang for the last time before blowing out his candles.

another deep sigh. you kiss the pendant that sits on your chest, "i love you," and then the engagement ring on your ring finger, "so, so, much."

from then on, every time the 3rd of july comes around the corner, it becomes clockwork. you sing, blow the candles, kiss the pendant and the ring, and eat the cake all alone. 

it never gets any better, though.

through the years you watch the numbers from the candles grow older.

but you know deep inside he doesn't. the ticking of his clock has stopped.

and so did yours.

October 31, 2019

you dreaded this day to come. on the same year, you managed to come across both of kento's firsts.

his first birthday without him celebrating with you and his first death anniversary.

ever since his funeral, you never had the will in you to actually visit his grave, where his family decided to bury his ashes. you were a coward, you admit.

but losing someone you loved the most is never that easy to get over with.

having to come face to face with your lover's grave is no easy task. you touch the tombstone where his name is engraved.

Nanami Kento

July 03, 1990-October 31, 2018

your soul will always be in our hearts

you sit onto the green grass, put your arms on his tombstone and rested your head over it.

for a while it was silent.

until a rain of tears eventually dropped.

"you're so unfair, kento," you said. your voice hoarse but considerably unnoticed as the pain took over. "you said you'd come home to me, but you didn't," you don't care if there were other people around you, you need to let go of the bottled-up feelings you had for the past year. and so you wail, and wail, and wail, and yell about how much of an asshole he is for leaving you alone. cursing every entity that exists for not protecting your beloved enough. the anger through your voice seeps in but you know deep inside that he's not an asshole. you're just mad and you don't have any way to cope but this.

but your cries have been met with silence, a daily reminder that he's really not here with you. and it breaks you. 

"i love you so much, i miss you so much, i'm sorry for being mean. rest well, my beloved, you have done so much." you say and seal it with a kiss before going back home, if you could still call it that.

every year when this dreaded day arrives, you pick yourself up and go to his gravesite. but this time, you spend your time telling him new hobbies you picked up on, adventures you've gone through, and stories that you have already told him before.

when he was still around, he would ask some questions and reply with either a comment or a laugh.

but this time you were only met with silence.

conversations with him never sounded the same.

20XX

years had gone by without him. you didn't know how you did it either. every day is a new pain that you have to face but you suck it up anyway.

tonight is just a typical night, you were tired from managing the shop and just finished reading kento a book. nonetheless, you prepare yourself a meal as you feel your stomach growling.

as you sit down at the dinner table, you notice something incredibly wrong.

this is the first time you have prepared a portion enough for one.

that thought alone terrified you to the core.

every night you miss his voice still. you wish the voice messages that he left you on the phone would suffice but they didn't. through the phone, his voice doesn't sound as soft and as caring compared to what you usually hear when he's around. but it's not like you can do anything about it, can you?

you have gone through every voice message that he sent you, hundreds and hundreds of them, but you never get tired of it. it has been your lullaby for the past years. you convince yourself that this is the same as when you hear his words fresh from his lips, but you know it's not. it will never be the same. you miss the sound of his actual voice. every laughter, every chuckle, every syllable that escapes his mouth, you miss it. 

the sound from your device isn't as comforting as it was, and it scares you to think that at some point, you will forget what his actual voice sounds like. you didn't like that thought one bit. 

he had flooded your senses. his touch, his smell, his voice, his love, it had invade all of you and has become a part of you and you're afraid that one of those will be forgotten so you desperately try to keep everything alive. 

even when he's not.

you're old now. wrinkles have adorned your whole body and you're not as strong as you used to.

but your love towards kento remained the same. it has become stronger, in fact. being old sometimes makes your memories a bit blurry but everything about your lover is something that you could never forget.

you browse through your photos in the album that has been left. you stroke through his pictures like you can still feel the heat through his skin. you miss the feel of his sharp features and the soft gaze of his eyes. you miss the way he would kiss every part of you and show you how much he loves you in every way possible.

everything still feels like it's yesterday. while everybody moved on, you stayed. deep inside you're still living in a time where kento was existing. you know he would've loved your nephews, nieces, and your grandchildren.

after him, you never loved anyone. you could never love anyone other than him. how could you, when he's all that plagued your mind, you keep on trying to keep his legacy alive, not a part of him forgotten, that he will always be remembered. 

you've been diagnosed a chronic heart disease, but whenever a pain pangs in your heart, you're sure it's not your illness, but the pain of being left alone by a lover who swore to stay by your side.

you know you don't have much time left, and you have come to terms with it, happy, even. you want to meet your lover once again. you want to see kento right before your very eyes and reach him just like you did in your youth.

so by the summer, you have decided to visit kuantan, malaysia with your family.

it's the place you wanted to avoid the most but you know now for sure you're brave enough to visit it. he would've wanted you to go here, he wanted to go here. even if you're a little late, you're glad to make it just in time.

your eldest granddaughter have been guiding you along the shore. you bask in the fresh air and the sound of the waves from the ocean. every thing is so peaceful, but you wish kento was here to witness it with you.

you inhale the air with a weak smile in your face.

one of your nephews then had helped you tuck in for the night.

it was so peaceful. and for the first time in years, you have finally let out a big and genuine smile.

you feel your eyes getting heavy and you know it's going to be the last. and you've never felt any happier.

October 31, 20XX

you have finally died twice.

you were finally buried next to the love of your life. 

in your funeral, your family used the picture you took a long time ago, back when you were 27, mourning and incredibly heartbroken for the lost of your lover.

the kind elderly photographer from the studio you took your photo from was confused as to why you could have been taking one while you're young and looking healthy.

"i don't want to pry sweetheart, but if you're still young and healthy, why are you taking a picture now?" she asked, but you don't mind it one bit.

"when i die i want to look like me and my husband were the same age," you answered with a big smile on your face.

since i too, died that day, you would add but decided against it.

the lady seems taken aback but appreciates the sentiment behind it anyway.

you let out a wide smile so that when both of your pictures are put beside each other, it would look like the one you wore when he was still around. 

when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the blue sky and a fresh breeze of air. you felt the grass tickle against your skin and it was pleasant. when you get up, you feel your body get lighter, it's as if you weren't old, that you were back from your youth. you looked on your arms and every wrinkle that you remember being present there was all gone.

you look around you and you see a very pleasant scenery. there were trees around and from far away, the splashes of the ocean can be heard. for some reason, everything feels light, including your heart. some butterflies swarm around you like you were a flower, you reach your hand out, letting some of them sit on the tip of your finger.

you were enjoying the company of the butterflies and taking in the beautiful scene before you.

"darling," 

you hear a very familiar voice, and your eyes immediately widen

this isn't a dream right? this is really happening, right?

you whip your head towards the direction of the voice and there you see it.

your lover, your soul, the love of your life, nanami kento.

he looks so ethereal, so peaceful, especially with the soft smile spread across his face.

you're dumbfounded but you take a step, and then another, and another, until you ran your way across the grassy field and leap into his arms. and it was—

oh.

it was so warm. just like how you remembered. you feel your tears fall from your face and weep as you bury your face on the crook of his neck. you decide to take it all in. you inhale his scent, one you have been longing for years, your hug tightens around him. oh he feels so warm. so, so, warm. it's like time has never gone by.

"i'm so sorry," kento said, apology obvious from his voice, "i'm so sorry i was weak—"

"no!" you say as you immediately face him.

"do not say that darling, don't, i know you have fought long and hard enough," you carefully lift your hand to touch his pretty face. you were shaking but you were careful, like he was something fragile, something you're afraid to break. when you finally place it on his face, he immediately leans towards your touch. "t-this is real, right?" he nods, his smile growing much wider, "we don't have to be apart any longer," kento declared with full confidence.

that sentence alone urged you to chase his lips onto yours, the kiss was full of yearning, it was passionate but never aggressive. all of those years, you share silent longings and the hurt between your lips. kento pulled you deeper into the kiss but he was careful enough to handle you gently. every apology was spilled onto both of your lips as you felt tears stream across his face, and that's how you knew he longed for you as you did for him.

without words, you knew how much kento appreciated you for keeping his memories alive. it was enough for you to know that he listened to every word you let out as you read the books in his study, every word that you sang during his birthdays, and every word that you let out whenever you visited his grave. he knew all of it. he watched you weep in sorrow which broke his heart because he doesn't know how to comfort you, but he greatly loved and cherished every gesture. and so, it is his turn to return all of it back to you. 

and he now has forever to give you.

without words, you know what his lips spelled against yours.

i love you.

for once, the love that was once lost, the love that you had to let go free—

finally came back to you.

both of you have finally turned 28.

then, you feel the clock started ticking again until eternal ends.

another note: this is officially the first fic i wrote and i hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i feel like this piece will always be so dear in my heart. rest in peace, my beloved nanami kento, you have fought long and hard. 

[libraryofloveletters]

A Visit To Santa

Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: jobe is being treated like a kid, pranks from you and jude, miss denise gets new photos for her house, childhood coded lol, jobe is like your little brother too, miss denise thinks y'all finna crash her bmw lmao

Word Count: 768

Author's Note: this one is for bookie @themandaloriansdiaries - our favourite brothers :)

--

Jude decides now that you two are back home in England to take his brother to do the one thing they always did as kids; visit Santa.

England welcomed you two home, a change from the Spanish sunshine was welcomed; though you missed it the moment you got off of the plane.

You and Jude were spending the holidays with his family, both Bellingham brothers, you and their parents were at home. Mark and Denise were making dinner or something of the sorts in the kitchen, Jobe was in his bedroom and you and Jude were in his room.

Jude's head rested on your belly, your fingers tapping on his forehead as you scrolled through your phone with the other hand.

"I'm bored," your boyfriend announces.

"Congratulations," you tell him, as if you were supposed to do something about that.

Jude rolls his eyes, "let's go do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," he sighs, sitting up. You look over at him, "how about shopping? Or we could go for a drive or something?"

"The shopping mall?" he asked, looking over your shoulder. There's a look on his face that you've seen before, pure mischief. Your brows raise, waiting for him to continue. "Yeah, let's go."

"What're you up to?" You asked him, Jude pulls you off of the bed.

"I'll go grab Jobe."

You stop your boyfriend, grabbing his hand. "What is this? What's all this excitement? You hate the mall."

His eyes crinkle as he chuckles, "let's take Jobe to see Santa."

You can't help the laugh, letting go of his hand. "Okay babe. Go get him, I'll get the car keys from your mom."

Jude and Jobe meet you downstairs, Denise hands you her car keys. "Be careful please," she warns her sons, not you. She knew you'd handle them.

"We'll be back for dinner," Jude tells his mom, kissing her cheek before grabbing your hand.

You shout a bye to her and Mark as you three are out the front door and pile into the car. You drove of course, Jude doesn't drive and Jobe was a designated back seat driver. Jude had told his brother that you wanted to go shopping and he agreed to join you, saying he could use some fresh air.

The mall was a madhouse, it was T-minus 2 days to Christmas and everyone was rushing to get last minute shopping done.

You made a B-line for Santa's workshop in the mall, making it seem like you wanted to take a couple's photo of you and Jude with Santa.

Jobe shakes his head, "this is ridiculous," he tells you, waiting in line with you two.

"Do you not believe in the magic of Christmas, Jojo?" You teased him, pinching his cheek gently; you looked at Jobe like your little brother as well, teasing him the same way his brother would, having your own little nickname for him.

Jude smiles, watching as Jobe swats your hand away, making you laugh.

It takes a few minutes to get to the front of the line, the woman dressed as an elf calling you up to take your photo.

Jobe feels a light shove, Jude pushing him to Santa. "What?" he asked his brother, looking a bit lost.

"Go take your pic, mate."

"What?" Jobe scoffed, "I'm not going."

You take his coat from him, "go on, Jojo. Santa's waiting." You tell him, lips pressed together so you don't laugh. Jobe grumbles under his breath, something about hating you guys as he begrudgingly walks over to Santa.

The younger Bellingham sits beside Santa, the fakest smile you've ever seen on his face as the camera flashes.

Jude takes your hand, bringing you over to Santa. The two of you joined in. Jobe and Jude on either side of Santa and somehow you ended up on Santa's lap.

"On three, say merry Christmas!" The woman behind the camera says, counting to three before it flashes.

You let Santa speak to Jude and Jobe while you went to the counter to get the printed photos. You got two prints of the photo with the 3 of you, one for your home in Madrid and one for their home here in England. You also got a printed version of the solo shot with Jobe and Santa for the fridge at home.

The boys met you by the counter, Jude handing out his card so you can pay. "I can't believe you made me do that," Jobe mumbled, huffing.

You laugh, kissing his cheek. "It's okay, buddy."

Jude holds your hand, the bag with the photos in hand. "You're still a kid to us, mate." He laughs, pulling you into his side. "Let's go before we get in trouble for being late to dinner.

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 14 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake does his best to be reassuring toward Jessica, because the truth doesn't change anything for him. His feelings are strong and getting stronger, but then he does something that could have some serious repercussions, whether it was warranted or not.

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, blood, punching, 18+

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jessica couldn't take much more of this. She was so tired of always being on edge and having to deal with Brian's bullshit. The only time she felt truly calm was when she was with Jake. Just like this. He had his arms wrapped around her, and she was laying on his chest. She felt like she could just be herself around him without worrying what he thought about her. Then he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" 

She did want to talk about it, but she was also afraid he would think less of her. But she just didn't see how she could continue on with Jake unless he knew. She was falling in love with him a little more every day, and there was no way she could ever accept those kinds of feelings in return without him knowing the facts. She carefully shrugged and whispered, "There's not a lot to say. Brian is trying to ruin my career."

Jake held her tighter and kissed along her hair. "Why, Baby? How is that possible?"

Jessica's body involuntarily tensed up in his arms before she took a few shaky breaths and eased her cheek away from his chest. She felt tears in her eyes again as she looked at Jake and whispered, "He and I were dating. And then we were sleeping together. For weeks. And I had no idea that he's married and has two kids."

"Oh," Jake gasped, his pretty green eyes wide as he looked at her, and the feelings of shame and embarrassment intermingled, making her feel sick to her stomach.

When Jake didn't say anything else, Jessica wiped at the tears behind her glasses and pulled herself free from his grasp. He was just staring at her. She always knew it would be hard to tell him what happened, but she expected him to say something. "I ended it when I found out," she managed as her throat grew tighter. "I understand if this changes things between us." Her voice sounded small and weak, and she hated it. 

She knew she was smart. She knew how to command a classroom. She used to have more confidence than anyone else, but now she was scooting away from her boyfriend in her pretty green dress while he looked at her and said nothing. She wanted to unzip her dress and slip into bed and get all of the rest of her tears out, but if Jake wasn't going to do anything except stare at her, then she didn't know what to do.

"What would it change?" he finally asked as she fought with the zipper as her hands shook. 

"I don't know," she mumbled, frustration rising inside her now. "But I'm sure you think I'm an idiot. Like I can't read the room or take care of myself."

"Jessica," he said, and his voice was sharp enough that she met his green eyes. "You're not an idiot. He took advantage of you."

"It's embarrassing," she whispered, ready to rip the zipper off her dress as Jake climbed out of bed and carefully slid it down for her. As her dress fell away, leaving her completely bare except for her tiny thong, Jake kept his eyes on hers. 

He ran his fingers through her hair and said, "Brian is the one who embarrassed himself, Baby. I'm just shocked anyone could treat you that badly when you're as sweet as you are. But you didn't do anything wrong, and I promise I still feel the same way about you right now as I did two hours ago and yesterday." 

She nodded and cried against his shirt, her glasses smashing into his chest before he carefully slipped them off her face. Jake was kissing her forehead as she sobbed. "Smart Girl, you've been holding this inside for too long." She nodded as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Then he scooped her up and pulled back the covers, climbing in bed with her in his arms while he still had on his undershirt and suit pants. 

"I told Advanced Calculus the other day, but she was the first person I ever said anything to. Chippy knows Brian did something to me, but he doesn't know what. That's why he's not allowed in the bar anymore."

He rubbed her back as she fought for each breath through her hiccups and tears. "I have a new appreciation for that grouchy, old man," Jake murmured, tightening his grip on her body as she settled against his chest once again. "And now I wish Bradshaw and his wife had let me level Conley tonight, because I'm really not okay with someone making my girlfriend feel bad about herself and continually belittling her." She looked up at him through her red rimmed eyes, and he kissed her forehead. "You don't deserve any of that."

-------------------------

Jake tried to keep his voice as calm as possible, but he was absolutely outraged inside. All of Jessica's hesitancies made sense now, including the way she thought he was already in a relationship the night they met. She was carrying this unfounded shame and hurt inside her while trying to protect herself from ever letting it happen again. But it wouldn't happen again; Jake would see to that.

The bottom line was, Brian Conley was a fucking asshole, and the next time Jake saw him, it was on. If that man ever so much as looked at Jessica the wrong way again, chances were good he'd end up in the hospital. Not that he was going to say that when she was currently gasping for air with her face buried against him. But he knew he'd take care of anything she needed, because he loved her.

"You're really strong," he whispered, and when she tried to shake her head no, he added, "Yes, you are. You go to work every single day and teach your classes and take care of your students, and you do it while Brian actively tries to make all of it harder for you. You're a badass."

"Oh, my god," she groaned, wiping her cheeks with her palms. "You're kind of right."

"I'm absolutely right," he replied. She gaped at him as he nodded, and soon she was nodding, too. And then Jessica ended up straddling his hips with her breasts pressed against his chest and her lips next to his ear. But it wasn't sexual which surprised him. He kept his arms loose around her and let her talk about whatever she wanted to talk about and pause when she needed to.

Brian's wife was named Sabrina, and their sons were nine and thirteen. He never wore a ring, and hardly anyone at the university knew he was married. Jessica found out about his family when she ran into the four of them out to eat one day.

"Based on the way Sabrina reacted to me when I walked up to Brian, she knew what was going on. I looked her in the eye and told her I was sorry and that I had no idea. So I'm convinced I'm not even the first woman he's done this with. And I know I'm not the last. He's sleeping with a TA from his department now."

"He's still married?" Jake asked softly.

"As far as I know. He had a good tactic for hiding it from everyone at work, too. He would tell me, 'Nobody can find out about us, Jessica. They would think I was playing favorites.' Then after I blew his cover to his wife, he started rumors about how I came onto him. He made himself look completely innocent while making me look like a slut."

Jake grunted. "He's a fucking scumbag. And what's the point of putting in the work and being in a relationship if you're just going to turn around and shit all over your efforts? I mean, obviously you're the kind of woman every guy wants, but you're mine now."

Jessica laughed softly as Jake ran his hands up and down along her back. "I was so scared to tell you," she whispered, her voice soft and sweet. "I didn't want you to think poorly of me."

Compared to every other woman he'd ever known, Jessica was the best. There was no contest in his mind. "None of this is your fault, Reedy. But what about the way he treats you now? What about getting tenure?"

She looked at him sadly. "If I fight it, I'll look bad. He's meticulously set it up that way. And that will reduce my chances of getting tenure even more. I'm honestly a little afraid I'm going to have to try to find a job at a different university."

Jake tried to think of other schools around the city. "Like Cal State? Or Point Loma?"

She shook her head sadly. "Do you know how hard it is to find an opening in a physics department when lazy old dudes still exist?"

Jake pulled her closer and kissed her cheek as he said, "Spell it out for me."

Jessica took a few seconds to snuggle in against him again, and he hoped she felt as comfortable and safe right now as he did. But her words made his heart sink. "I'm talking more like Penn State or Syracuse."

Pennsylvania or New York? Shit. That would never do. Not when he was already thinking about taking her home to Texas to meet his family. Not when he was falling for her more every day. "You should be able to stay in San Diego without being treated poorly."

"You're certainly helping with that."

Jake kissed the top of her head and laced his fingers with hers. "I just want you to be happy," he whispered. 

She smiled and said, "You're helping with that, too. Honestly, all I need right now is you, and a table at Chippy's, and for Brian to get hit by a truck."

"Baby, my new truck is all yours. Have at him." Jake was just happy that she was laughing as he let his fingers tangle in her hair. "You're a great teacher. And your fundraiser was incredible."

"Fratraiser," she replied with another soft laugh. 

"Fucking Bradshaw," Jake muttered. "Your fratraiser was incredible. You have a lot to be proud of. And I hope you can stay at your school, because I don't think I would do well in upstate New York. I turn into a bit of a whiner when I'm too cold."

Jessica looked up at him curiously. "Are you referring to my Syracuse comment?"

"Yes."

"So you would... come visit me? If I ended up at a different school?"

Jake's lips parted silently. He'd actually imagined moving there with her; the idea of shoveling snow made him want to cry, but he'd consider it for her. "Something like that," he answered softly. "Now... it's very late. Want me to read to you?"

He was reaching for one of the scientific journals on her nightstand with a questioning glance in her direction. "I would love that," she whispered. "How about the one about the one on electric propulsion?"

"Sure, Baby. I won't understand a single word of it, but sure."

"Yes, you will. You're smart."

Jake read quietly with Jessica snuggled against his side until she fell asleep. And then he read the remainder of the article to himself, because he actually did understand it. And it was fascinating. And he watched his girlfriend sleep as he considered registering for one of her lectures next semester, eventually dozing off as well.

It felt like he slept for just twenty minutes and simultaneously twelve hours when he woke up to Jessica's sweet voice in his ear. 

"Jake. Good morning."

He grunted softly as he felt her hand work open the front of the suit pants he'd fallen asleep wearing, and then her fingers were skimming along his cock. 

"Jessica." His eyes fluttered open just in time to watch her tits and head disappear underneath the covers, and then her lips were on his dick. "Oh, fuck."

He whipped the blankets off as she giggled in surprise, her pink tongue just an inch from his tip. "Is this okay?" she asked, licking him softly as she held him loosely with one hand. Her gorgeous ass was up in the air above her head, decorated to perfection with her green thong, and she was awaiting an answer from him. 

"Fuck yes," he gasped, reaching for her glasses. "Put these on first, Baby."

She took them and slid them on. "You want to make sure I can see everything I'm doing?" she asked before settling into place again. 

"No. I just like how you look in them," he whispered. 

She grinned and pulled his pants down a little bit more, kissing his length as she did so. This marked the first time Jake had felt her mouth on his cock, and he was way too excited for this. He loved getting blowjobs; always had, always would. But he couldn't remember a single girl who wore glasses for him.

"You need to tell me what you like," she whispered, wiggling her ass in the air as she cupped his balls. Holy shit, this woman had no idea how fucking hot she was. 

"I'm going to like anything you do," he promised, and then he was rewarded with her parted lips around the head of his cock. She sucked on him in a soft rhythm as her tongue swirled, and he groaned, "God damn. What did I even do to deserve this?"

Jessica popped him free and said, "You're a good boyfriend," before taking him deep with one long, smooth stroke until he bottomed out.

"Holy hell." He was scrambling now, one hand in her hair and one gripping at the sheets. "Baby, baby, baby," he whispered, watching as she bobbed her head. He had to suck in a deep breath through his nose and try to calm himself down. But when he exhaled, he just ended up moaning instead. "Oh my god."

Jessica's tits bounced and slapped each other and his thighs as she bobbed faster and faster before withdrawing him and grinning. The long strand of her saliva hanging from her lips was mesmerizing, and when it broke and landed on his hip he thrust up in her hand involuntarily. 

"You seem eager for more," she teased, shaking her ass again. 

"Jessica," he gasped when she started slowly jerking him off with her hands. "I'll do anything."

She leaned down and kissed his tip and then his abs and then his tip again. "Just ask nicely."

Jake watched her lick her lips, and he was desperate for that pink tongue again. He knew she was in charge right now, and he wouldn't have it any other way. "Please, Baby? Please suck me off? I can't get enough."

She leaned down farther, her tongue settling on his base as he watched his cock rest against her glasses. He had to stifle a moan at the feel of her warm mouth and cool glasses at the same time, and then she licked his full length before taking him deep. His girlfriend was meticulous and unhurried, just like she was when she was lecturing. And now he made the mistake of thinking of her in front of a room full of eyes wearing a short skirt and tall heels as he reached to squeeze her tits.

He had no idea what he was saying. Just depraved things falling from his lips.

"Jessica, your mouth was made for me."

"Fuck, Baby. I need to come. I need to come."

"You're so good. So good!"

He couldn't be sure how much time had passed, but he was whimpering and begging her now as she slowly dragged her lips up to his tip before pushing them back down. Every graze against his balls and stroke of her fingernails in his trimmed hair had him gripping her tighter. Each swipe of her tongue had him cursing under his breath. He couldn't remember ever being this verbal before. But now she wasn't changing her pace at all, favoring her current plan to make him lose his mind. 

"Please," he gasped, panting so hard it was embarrassing.

"Tell me what you want," she demanded between long stripes of her tongue, the change of pace taking him closer to the edge.

He wanted it bad. So he decided to say it. "Let me cum on your glasses?"

She grinned and wrapped both of her hands around his length, and he was immediately in trouble. "Cum wherever you want."

"Oh, hell," he whined, tilting her head just right with his fingers tangled in her hair, and then when she licked her lips again, he was right there. 

Jessica gasped as his cum hit her glasses before another ribbon landed on her forehead. She squealed in delight as he coated her up, and she kept pumping her hand up and down his length. "Jesus," he grunted, reaching for her hand and slowing her motion as she licked the last beads of cum from his tip. "Jessica."

Jake hauled her up his body and kissed her lips, tasting himself and needing more. He ran his tongue across her cheek, cleaning his cum from her skin. Then he licked her glasses, and when he kissed her, she moaned into his mouth. He dragged his tongue through his mess again and again as he cupped her ass and brushed her hair out of her face. But she was a mess everywhere, and so was he. It didn't matter, because she was smiling at him over the top of her glasses. 

"That was hot," she whispered, and he tipped his head back and swallowed hard, still tasting his cum.

He hadn't been needy like that in recent memory. Maybe ever. "Baby, you're what's hot."

She pushed her fingers back through his hair, and for some reason, looking at his girlfriend's cum soaked face had him completely convinced she was the one. "Come wash me off," she whispered, and Jake followed her into the bathroom and the shower. 

He cleaned her glasses and her face under the stream of steamy water, pausing frequently to kiss her sweetly. He ended up with his back pressed to the wall as she told him, "You made me feel so good about myself last night. Just like you always do. Thank you."

"I was just telling you the truth, Baby."

As he ran his nose along hers, he thought about all the things he wanted to tell her and tried to put all of it in order in his mind. Then she added, "Now that alumni weekend is over, your birthday is coming up. We can focus on that instead."

He smiled. "Nothing fancy, okay? I just thought maybe we could trade Chippy's for the Hard Deck for one night? You could meet the rest of my friends."

"Do they have Sam Adams on tap?" she asked with a coy smile. 

Jake scoffed. "I wouldn't have suggested it if they didn't."

"Then yes. That sounds perfect for your birthday."

---------------------------

On Monday morning, Jessica still felt incredible. She'd managed to get Jake to stay over again, and he'd left her place at six in the morning wearing his wrinkled suit. Just the thought of it made her smile. He'd taken so much time reinforcing that he didn't think less of her because of Brian. He'd told her over and over that none of it was her fault. 

Even though she had a department meeting, she practically floated down the hallway to her office. Seeing Brian today would have no bearing on her mood or her happiness. But when she got closer to her door, she saw someone waiting for her. 

"Advanced Calculus," Jessica called out, rushing a bit more with her travel mug of coffee and her bag. She was delighted to see her friend and thank her again for everything she and Bradley did to help her out. "Hi." 

But the other woman held her hands up with a remorseful look on her face. "Listen, Jessica. I'm really sorry if what I did or said to Brian on Saturday night makes things worse around here for you. I should have kept myself in check, but I just fucking hate him."

Jessica gasped, and her face broke out in a smile as tears welled in her eyes. "No way. It was kind of perfect actually. Do you know how good it felt to have someone stand up for me for once?"

Next thing she knew, Jessica was wrapped up in her arms, and the tears didn't even fall. They just provided a pleasant blur as both women laughed. 

"Oh, thank goodness. I was afraid you'd be upset with me. Bradley told me to text you about a million times, but I knew you were probably having an important weekend with Jake." Then she jerked Jessica out of her arms and eyed her closely. "Jake was good, right? You told him about Brian and he was a gentleman?" 

Something flashed in her eyes that Jessica thought might have been protectiveness. "Yes. I told him everything, and he was... perfect."

"I knew he had it in him," she muttered. "Listen, I can't eat with you today. I promised Dr. Rosenthal I'd meet him to talk shop about the summer term over lunch. But tomorrow?"

"Sure," Jessica told her as she took off toward the elevators with a wave. "See you tomorrow."

After that, she checked her emails and found one from Dean Walters about how successful her alumni weekend event was. She decided she'd stop by his office and try to set up a one-on-one meeting with his receptionist later this week. Jessica probably had former Kappa Pi alum Dr. Gregory Michaels to thank for this, because she was absolutely certain Brain wouldn't have said anything flattering to the dean.

Convinced that Brian at his worst would have no effect on her whatsoever today, she headed downstairs for the weekly meeting with her chin held high. Jessica held the door open for Dr. Leeland and Dr. Nguyen, and then she blended into the back row seamlessly. Of course Brian took the time to thank everyone involved with the weekend by name. Well, everyone other than Jessica. But she just smirked in response. She'd already seen the email from Dean Walters. Brian could just spout off his usual shit until he was blue in the face. She could take it.

Then her physics lecture went smoothly, and Luca turned in a perfect homework set. She almost wanted to hug him, because he actually seemed proud of himself. Even though she ate lunch alone, she had some leftovers that Jake made, and she didn't mind one bit. Especially when he texted her while she was taking her break.

I miss you. I'll be there tomorrow for your office hours. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two.

She was certain she could. She couldn't wait to show him. 

-----------------------

When Jake arrived on campus in his uniform on Tuesday evening, he expected to see Bradshaw's wife or perhaps Luca on his skateboard. What he didn't expect to find was a nearly empty science building. He smiled as he pushed the elevator button and rode up to Jessica's floor. Maybe he'd get a chance to have her alone in her office again. 

The weekend had been amazing, especially if he could cut out the parts where Brian Conley made his girlfriend cry. But Jake couldn't even be too upset about that, because after the frat fundraiser, Jessica had opened up even more to him. He finally had a better understanding of the way her mind worked, and he wanted to spend weeks reassuring her that he still felt the same way about her. 

Shit. He was definitely in love. There was no getting around that now. He would tell her soon. He'd figure out the best way to say it so she'd know he meant it. 

Her office door was open a few inches, and Jake could tell she wasn't alone. He heard voices, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. One voice sounded distinctly male, so maybe it was Luca looking for extra help. Based on what Jessica told Jake about his grades, Luca could absolutely use the extra help. So Jake just propped himself against the wall; he had no problem waiting until she was free.

"What the fuck do you mean Dean Walters emailed you directly?"

Jake pushed away from the wall immediately. That wasn't Luca. That was Brian, and he had just raised his voice.

Then he heard Jessica as she quietly said, "He emailed me to tell me I did a great job! This was my fundraiser, and you did nothing but try to prevent me from being successful!" 

"You don't deserve success," Brian hissed, and Jake tried to take some calming breaths. "And you'll never have it here. That includes tenure."

"What happened between us has nothing to do with how well I can do my job!"

When Brian laughed, it made Jake's skin crawl. With his fists clenched, he slowly pushed the door open as Brian said, "You deserve every label I gave you after you tried to ruin my marriage: the idiotic, unreliable department slut. You should have just kept your head down and your cunt available for me. Then you'd have tenure."

Brian had Jessica shoved up against her bookcase full of journals, the ones that Jake loved so much. Her face was red, and he could tell she was on the verge of tears. But she was so fucking strong as she told Brian, "I will get tenure, and you'll look like an asshole to everyone."

Then Brian put his hand on her face, and Jake snapped. "Hey, Conley," he barked, shoving the door so hard that it bounced off the wall before slamming shut. Brian turned to look at him, but his hands remained on Jessica who looked shocked now. "Hands off!" When he didn't back away from Jessica, Jake walked around her desk and as gently as he could with shaking hands, pulled her away from Brian. "You're even dumber than you look, man."

Brian laughed at him. "Yet you're the one trying to defend this slut."

Jake sucker punched him directly in his nose before he could think things through. "Oh, shit," he gasped as blood spurted onto Brian's suit and Jessica's precious collection of journals. 

She gasped next to him. "Jake."

"Fuck!" Brian nearly shouted, reaching for his gushing nose with both hands. "Are you out of your mind?"

But Jake shook his head, because Brian's bullshit wasn't going to work on him. "If I see you touch her or any woman like that ever again, I'll break your entire face. And you better start saying your prayers that I don't go to the dean myself. You think it's smart to leave the door open during Dr. Reed's office hours while you physically and verbally assault her?"

Brian just looked at him as his nose bled and his face started to bruise. Then his gaze shifted to Jessica where she stood slightly behind Jake. "Fuck you, bitch." Then he was gone, sending her door slamming once again.

"Jake," Jessica whispered as he looked at the droplets of blood on the floor and the bookshelf. 

"Jess, I'm sorry," he replied, raking his fingers through his hair. Her eyes were wide as he added, "I'm so sorry. I think I just made things a lot worse."

-----------------------------

Okay, I love to see him get the punch in while they are in private, but now I'm nervous. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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[flintoaster]

Let's talk about Branches trauma for a hot second-

*I know it was like all silly goofy because he's a cute baby in a boy band and they didn't plan three movies ahead, but that doesn't change the fact that they were still using their baby brother, I'm guessing 3 to 5 years old, to make money and fame. I don't care if your 3-year-old has the most angelic voice on the planet, but you can't be putting all that work on a child so young. That is a child. That's child exploitation!

*Then on top of that, there's the toxic work environment and the toxic family environment. His brother was being bossy and perfectionist, which is harmful to everyone, but especially the child in his formative years. He's a little baby! He grew up to internalize what he said which manifested as severe anxiety and OCD tendencies. That's potential child abuse. That's one reason he has such severe anxiety because he felt like he needed to be perfect. He blamed the family's breakup on himself.

* even before his brother's abandoned him, he was clearly not being treated like an actual kid. They were babying him sure, but they didn't seem to give him enough emotional support except his pep talk before the show. They still treated him like a colleague which is inappropriate if he's a literal baby.

*And then they left after blaming him for the breakup, and leaving him to take care of his grandma! Yes she did watch over him and was his guardian, but he still felt responsible for taking care of her. He felt alone and like he had to be a grown up from that point on. Before she was even eaten, he had to be his own parent and his own support. I don't know where his parents fit in all this, but clearly they're out of the picture enough for his brothers to know that they are the ones responsible for Branch. I know he loves Floyd the most because he saw him for who he was but he still left him. You can't leave a kid and say "I'll be back eventually like bye take care of your grandma." That's child neglect and child abandonment.

* he thought he was the reason his family broke up, and the reason his grandma died. He probably made the bunker not only to hide from the world, but to protect the world from himself.

*Later in the movie he thinks that Poppy is going to abandon him too, and she's like "I can see why you're afraid of that but I'm not going anywhere" and that's why I love them.

Get this boy a therapist. (I love him your honor)