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suntoru · 6 months

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❝ I'VE LOVED YOU BEFORE, I'M SURE OF IT!❞

— SYNOPSIS: eons ago, the king of curses lost his lover. you're gone, you have been for years, so why is it that you're standing right before him?

— WARNINGS: reincarnation, death of servant, your death mentioned, blood, swearing, angst, fluff, ooc sukuna?, he's downbad, 3k words

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: HELP MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR SUKUNA IF U LIKE IT PLS LMK AND REBLOG!!

a face so familiar that in a sea of people, he'd recognize it instantly. he could paint a perfect picture from memory alone; how could he ever forget you? the only person he's ever grown accustomed to loving with every fiber of his being. the only person who's ever made the very king of curses feel weak. so then, why... why are you here once more?

impossible. it couldn't, shouldn't be you. he watched you slip away, felt your last breath against his skin, cradled you in his arms as your life ebbed away, the haunting reminder of the day he lost you. so why, against all reason, are you standing before him?

he can't deny the reality that it's truly you standing there, amidst the blossoms, with those delicate features that outshine even the brightest stars in the sky. the very essence of innocence radiates from your being, reflected in the purity of your gaze as you remain unaware of his presence, lost in the simple joy of picking dainty flowers from his meticulously tended garden. it's a scene so achingly familiar, yet impossibly surreal, as if plucked from a distant memory and brought vividly to life before his eyes.

his naive little lamb, blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks just beyond the edges of his meticulously guarded property. anyone could sneak up on you at this very moment, and you'd remain oblivious, lost in the gentle warmth of the sunlight as you hum a soft melody to yourself. do you not realize the trespass you commit with every step, the audacity of encroaching upon his domain?

for if you were anyone else, the ground beneath your feet would surely be stained crimson, a stark reminder of the consequences of such brazen intrusion. he scrutinizes your every movement, his gaze lingering on each delicate gesture as if committing them to memory. it's the first time in what feels like an eternity that he's experienced a semblance of peace.

sukuna, the embodiment of strength and power, finds himself perplexed by the profound comfort your presence brings him. he detests his own vulnerability, despises the notion of being beholden to anyone or anything. and yet, in the quiet moments spent observing you, he can't help but entertain the fleeting desire to hold you once more like the days he once treasured with you.

the fleeting moment of vulnerability dissipates in an instant as one of his ignorant servants, a mere fool in sukuna's eyes, rudely intrudes upon his garden sanctuary. with careless disregard, they trample over the delicate cecilias, the very flowers you were delicately picking.

"m-my lord, my humblest apologies," they stammer, their voice trembling with fear. "i don't know how an intruder got in, but i promise to dispose-" before they can finish their sentence, their head is swiftly separated from their body, the soft thud of impact echoing in the garden as it rolls to the ground. red oozes out, staining the grass crimson red as he stares at the body indifferently. tch. incompetence is met with swift and merciless retribution. how weak, how utterly weak. not only had that feeble intruder disrupted his tranquility, but they had also brought undue attention to his secluded sanctuary.

his gaze sharply turns towards you, contemplating whether you had noticed the disturbance, only to find your eyes innocently peering back at him. a surge of something unfamiliar courses through him as he meets your gaze. there you stand, so delicate and unassuming, clutching those flowers, studying him with a curiosity that unsettles and intrigues him in equal measure.

would you scream? run for the hills? yet, there's an underlying fearlessness about you, a quality he's always admired. part of him yearns for the recognition in your eyes, the acknowledgment of his presence, a desire for you to step closer, to nestle into his embrace and play with his hair, as if it were an annoyance he secretly craved, so long as it was from you.

"…would you like a flower?" you beam up at him, your smile radiant enough to rival the sun itself. holding it out to him, your eyes sparkle with genuine delight as you offer the delicate blossom. "it matches your hair. pretty." for a moment, he hesitates, towering over you with his imposing figure. yet, you show no fear, not of his unusual features nor his intimidating presence, not in this life and not in your past one either. with tentative movements, his rough, calloused hands brush against yours, accepting your gift.

he observes with a quiet fascination as your smile widens even further, a sight that warms a part of him he thought long dormant. almost instinctively, he restrains the urge to brush back a stray strand of your hair, watching instead as you take care of it yourself, a soft frown forming on your face as it catches in your lip gloss.

"it's funny," you begin, a playful lilt to your voice as you gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "everything here seems so familiar. tell me, have we ever met before? i feel like i know you from somewhere," you muse, studying his features with a curious intensity. there's a certainty in your tone, a sense of recognition that stirs something deep within him.

"no. that's stupid," he gruffly replies, brushing off your inquiry with a dismissive tone, though he can't ignore the flicker of amusement in your eyes. "ah, you're right. that would be impossible, wouldn't it? perhaps it was just déjà vu," you concede, your smile widening ever so slightly, there's a sincerity in your gaze that leaves him unsettled. he hates the way his heart stirs each time you do that, that... that thing with your face, he's seen it a thousand times before, that stupid smug smile. it's been a millennium since he's last seen it, and he finds himself silently admitting that he's missed it more than he cares to admit.

the one who shattered his harem, the one he believed he had lost forever. over the years of your absence, he had convinced himself that it was foolish to love a mortal. loving you was a mistake, he told himself. there was no void in his heart because of you; it was there to satiate his hunger for bloodlust.

yet, the mere sight of you right now, skin kissed by the sunlight shattered those self-imposed barriers, your voice carrying on about the flowers you held. peonies, daisies, lilies, roses—all growing in a small, vibrant garden. they were your favorites, adorning the white fence so beautifully. although he'd rather be caught dead then admit it out loud, it was dedicated to you, a silent tribute that reminded him of your presence.

in moments of turmoil, he found solace here, secretly seeking refuge amidst the blossoms, gazing up at the stars as if searching for your familiar constellations. what were they again? he had almost forgotten, and somehow, that notion was more unsettling than any sorcerer he had ever faced.

"oh, i almost forgot to ask, what was your name?" you giggle, looking up at him with an air of innocence. do you really talk to random strangers like that? you still are such an airhead. it seems you have no survival skills, but perhaps that's why he's always been so protective of you. "i am the king of curses, sukuna," he states, glaring down at you. it irks him, slightly, that even his name has been wiped from your memory. you really, don't remember, do you?

"sukuna... i'm calling you 'kuna from now on, 'kay?" you beam, and he lets out a weary sigh. how unoriginal. you used to call him that too, but anything else sounds quite strange coming from your lips.

"why are you here?" he grumbles, the question weighing heavy on his mind, not just in this moment, but echoing through the centuries. he wants to know why you've returned, why you've chosen now to reappear in his life after so many years have passed by. are you taunting his only weakness? how infuriating. you remember his old nickname, the flowers you once adorned his head with, but not him. is this some sort of game to you?

"i don't know," you answer simply, adjusting the crinkles in your dress. as the sun begins its slow descent, casting a warm, golden hue over the valley, you find yourself standing there, amidst the beauty of the landscape. "i just happened to stumble upon here," you murmur softly, your gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sky meets the earth in a breathtaking display of colors. the grass sways gently in the breeze, whispering secrets of days gone by, while memories of laughter and joy linger in the air like a bittersweet melody. his nose crinkles. what do you mean you don't know?

"what are you doing?" he hears your voice, sweet and soft like a distant echo from the past, a time when things were simpler, when you were by his side, filling his days with light and laughter. it's been hard without you, he realizes, a pang of longing tugging at his heart as he watches you standing there, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.

he wants to reach out to you, to tell you how much he's missed you, how much he's longed for your presence all these years. but instead, he remains silent, a silent observer of the moment, as the memories of days gone by wash over him like gentle waves, leaving behind an ache in his heart.

"you're trespassing," he grumbles, his voice carrying a weight that extends far beyond the boundaries of his garden. it's a warning, a silent one for you to stay away, to spare him the agony of reliving the memories that threaten to consume him. but even as he speaks the words, he knows deep down that it's not just his garden you're trespassing into— it's his heart, too.

sukuna does not wish to love you, loving you hurts, it makes him what he hates the most, it makes him weak. once, long ago, he was foolish to love you. he never uttered those words aloud, but the way his gaze softened in your presence spoke volumes. you were the only one who managed to carve a place for yourself in his heart, a place he thought was forever closed off to the world.

he doesn't want to care about you. to him, you should be nothing more than a passing nuisance, easily disposed of if it serves his purpose. yet, as he gazes upon your innocent face, memories long buried begin to resurface, tugging at the frayed edges of his carefully constructed facade.

sukuna despises what you evoke within him, a vulnerability he thought he'd long since buried beneath layers of ruthlessness. as the sun caresses your features with its gentle warmth, he can't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. it's a sensation he's tried to suppress, to bury beneath the weight of his power and dominance. after all, he's the feared king of curses, not some lovesick fool. but even he can't deny the allure of your presence, the way you effortlessly weave your way into the recesses of his darkened heart.

in the depths of his being, sukuna knows he shouldn't miss you. he shouldn't yearn for the days when your laughter echoed through the corridors of his mind. yet, despite his best efforts to cast you aside, a part of him remains tethered to you, unable to sever the invisible threads that bind him to your memory.

your love, once radiant as the sun, pierced through the darkness shrouding his heart, illuminating corners he never knew existed. it was pure, untainted, a beacon of hope in his desolate existence. even in his darkest moments, he couldn't bear to extinguish your light, for fear of losing himself entirely. but then, like a flickering flame snuffed out by a sudden gust of wind, you were gone.

the memory of holding you close as you slipped away, your warmth fading into cold nothingness, still haunts him to this day. yet amidst the pain, there was a promise— a whispered vow that one day, you'd find each other again. and somehow, against all odds, you did. but fate had robbed you of the memories that once bound you together.

he watches you now, your smile as bright as ever, oblivious to the love you once shared. it's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that you'll never remember the depth of your connection, the intensity of the love that once burned between you. forgotten memories of your presence flood his mind, stirring emotions he thought long buried.

he should be able to snuff out your existence without a second thought, should revel in the sight of your blood staining the verdant valley, your cries piercing the tranquil air. but as you stand before him, oblivious to the darkness lurking within him, he finds himself paralyzed by indecision.

his soul screams at him to act, to rid himself of this weakness once and for all. but his heart, that traitorous organ, refuses to comply. how can you, with your pure heart and untainted spirit, still evoke such conflicting emotions within him?

sukuna prides himself on his selfishness, on his willingness to betray and manipulate to achieve his desires. and yet, in your presence, he finds himself questioning whether his desire to hold you close once more is too selfish, whether his darkness would tarnish your purity.

and a part of him wonders if you'd fall in love with him again, wonders how you did the first time. would your hands feel the same, tracing the contours of his face with that delicate touch? would your lips still taste as sweet, brushing against his with that familiar tenderness?

"'kuna?" you murmur softly, looking up at him to see if he's paying attention. and for a fleeting moment, he's transported back to a memory he holds dear, etched into the deepest recesses of his heart.

"'kuna?" you had called out one day, perched elegantly on his lap, nestled against him as if you belonged there. his hand, protective yet tender, rested on the small of your back, ensuring you remained secure in his embrace. your legs were tucked into his, absentmindedly toying with some strands of his hair. "hm?" he responded, his gaze half-heartedly softening as he met your doe-like eyes, a hint of amusement dancing within their depths.

"do you think in every universe, we're together?" you inquire, your voice tinged with a hopeful innocence that tugs at his heartstrings. he let out a scoff, a familiar gesture masking the warmth that blooms within him, his fingers instinctively threading through your hair as you playfully swat them away. you're so naive and innocent, believing in such stupid things.

"that's absurd," he retorted, though the corner of his lips quirked upward in a ghost of a smile, unable to deny the affection that lingers between you. love, he once believed, was a fleeting illusion, a mirage in the desert of existence. he scoffed at the notion of eternal love, dismissing it as a fanciful delusion born of naive optimism. how could love endure when humanity was plagued by sin, disloyalty, and obstinance? it seemed absurd to place faith in something so fragile, so easily shattered by the harsh realities of life.

"hey..." you pouted, your bottom lip jutting out in a playful display of mock indignation, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "well, i believe we are," you declare, a stubborn determination coloring your words as you stick out your tongue in defiance.

"such a meanie," you'd muttered under your breath, though your protest is laced with affection as he pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace. and he's snapped out of his thoughts once more when he hears your voice cut through his memories.

"ah, i'm sorry," the present you sheepishly mumbles, catching yourself mid-ramble and rubbing the back of your head with an embarrassed smile. "i'm boring you, aren't i? it's getting late; i should be going."

with a resigned sigh, you glance up at sukuna, feeling a flush of embarrassment color your cheeks. you hadn't meant to prattle on to a stranger, especially one who felt so oddly familiar and comforting, like a warm, fluffy blanket on a chilly evening. as you start to move away, ready to bid your unexpected companion farewell, one of sukuna's arms shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly and halting your departure.

despite everything, you're still here, standing before him, a familiar presence that refuses to fade into oblivion, and he finds himself unwilling to sever the crimson thread of fate that you once fervently believed bound you together. he's unsettled of the idea of allowing himself to love you again, yet, at this moment, his greatest fear is not in loving you, but rather in the prospect of forgetting you altogether.

confusion flickers across your features as you look up at him, but he refuses to meet your gaze, his expression unreadable. the soft hues of the pink sunset cast a gentle glow over you both, and in that moment, you could swear you see a faint flush tingeing sukuna's cheeks.

he still considers you foolish for believing in an everlasting love. and yet, as he looks into your eyes, he doesn't believe an eternity with you would be too bad. in fact, he wouldn't mind it at all. he mutters gruffly, though his voice betrays a hint of annoyance, and yet, inexplicably, your heart leaps at the invitation.

"speak."

and with that stupidly charming grin on your face, you do.

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aestheteanime · 3 months

Text

how long they last during a sex ban

your boyfriend has been a little too... bold for your liking recently. after getting caught fucking in the training room, you felt it was necessary to enact some sort of punishment to make up for your embarrassment.

✶ ft: ichikawa reno, hoshina soshiro, furuhashi iharu, narumi gen

✶ cw: afab, semi-public sex, grinding, mutual masturbation, cunnilingus, pet names [baby, pretty girl, etc.], edging, orgasm denial (very very briefly)

✶ wc: 2.9k

✶ author's note: i've never written for kn8 so im not totally sure how well im gonna be able to write for these boys but i tried my best, hopefully it's okay lol

nsfw minors DNI

— ✶ ICHIKAWA RENO | 4 days

at the beginning reno thought he had this whole "sex ban" punishment in the bag. it's not like his sex drive was higher than yours-- so why, after only four days, was he begging for you like he had been deprived of your touch for eons?

"please, baby," he mumbles, face pressed into your neck as you shift uncomfortably on the couch.

you wanted to touch him so bad. wanted to indulge in him as much as he wanted to indulge in you, but you knew you had to keep a cool head. this was his punishment after all, and he had to face the consequences of his actions.

you had been mortified when kafka walked in on you two fucking against the wall, bodies sweaty and sticky-- and so so so close to orgasming. reno had been humiliated too, apologizing profusely on both of your halves and begging kafka to keep this a secret. he'd reluctantly agreed, but it was definitely still awkward between them. so then if reno was as embarrassed as you, why was he so eager to fuck you again?

reno's hand caresses your cheek, pressing a soft kiss under your ear before peppering them down your neck to your collarbone. they're soft, delicate even, almost as if he's afraid he'll hurt you if he kisses you any harder. it was infuriating. you wanted more-- needed more. "i'm sorry," he murmurs against your skin, fingers trailing to your chest before finding your tit, squeezing gently. "it won't happen again, i promise. just please touch me." his voice drawls out into a quiet whine and you can feel arousal begin to soak your panties.

his hand moves yours to palm at the erection through his pants and you nearly moan for him when your hands shift slightly to cup his balls.

shivering at the feeling of him smirking against your neck-- almost as if he knows he's won-- your head falls back to expose your entire neck to him. every passing second you feel your composure begin to slip. each touch seers hot against your skin, aching-- no, begging-- to give into him. it had only been four days. four days. a mere 96 hours and he was already on you like a dog in heat. "reno," you warn, though you're not sure how much conviction your voice displays. in fact, you're pretty sure it shakes with each breath.

"come on," he sighs, whining-- you can practically hear him pout. "it's been long enough, hasn't it?" his voice is raspy in your ear, vibrations going straight to your core. "wanna touch you. want you to touch me."

you groan in frustration, finally looking into his eyes only to see them glazed over. reno's pupils are dilated, focused solely on you and you alone.

his hand pulls your face closer to his, eyes fluttering to your lips, then your eyes, and back to your lips, silently asking for permission to close the gap.

you finally oblige.

your lips collide in a mess, spit mixing with each other's as reno moves to pull you into his lap in one swift motion. legs straddle his as your arms move to hook around his neck. your tongue slides against his, a fire lighting itself in your stomach as reno's lips move against yours, only proving to further fan the flames. there's a primal desire in the way his hands roam your body, squeezing your waist and pulling you against him, back and forth against his groin.

hands move to unbutton his pants before your lifting your body so he can pull them down, cock springing free as you notice your mouth practically drooling at the sight.

regardless of how many times you had fucked before, you somehow keep forgetting how pretty it is. the way it curves slightly to the left, veins running up the shaft, and oh the way it twitches when your hands find it.

reno nearly cries when you spread the precum along his head, jerking up into you at just your mere touch alone.

the sight is beautiful. reno's hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, head leaned back against the couch as his hands have no idea what to do with themselves. it's as if he was a bumbling, nervous virgin all over again.

that thought is quickly relinquished however, when he lets out a, "fuck, baby... missed this."

— ✶ HOSHINA SOSHIRO | 2 weeks

it wasn't soshiro that broke the sex ban. in fact, he could've gone longer just to prove a point. but with the way you were cuddled up next to him, leg slung over his, pelvis flush with his upper thigh as he felt the pulse of your cunt against him, he figured two weeks was plenty long.

he could tell you were pent up-- knowing that he was jacking off in the same bed, night after night, while you struggled to even reach your own release. it was a constant battle, and the humiliation of envying his right hand only seemed to intensify the torment. you needed him to get the job done, it just wasn't the same by yourself.

hearing the slick of his cock as he stroked himself every other night was pure, psychological torture-- and he knew it.

he knew listening to his rapid, heavy breathing riled you up. he knew his quiet, restrained moans and muffled whimpers soaked your panties. he knew not being able to see or feel his cock pulsing in his hand drove you crazy.

"soshiro," you mumble, your breath tickling his ear as your hand finds the curve of his neck, fingers tracing the line of his jaw before settling in his hair. "sex ban is over." your voice has a hint of embarrassment that soshiro immediately picks up on, and you brace yourself for what's coming next.

he hums, glancing down at you over his phone before setting it on the bedside table. "hmm?" he coos, eyes meeting yours as you prepare for the worst. "done already? you need me that badly, huh?" he speaks in an almost mocking tone and you have to hold back from turning over, red-faced and giving up. but you needed him, no matter how embarrassed he made you.

"don't tease," you plead, hand tracing a path down his chest until it reaches the waistband of his sweats. they hang low on his waist, hugging his hips oh-so-perfectly that you can't help but palm at his length through the fabric, wishing nothing more than for him to just let you have him.

you missed the feeling of him in your hand, jerking when you first brush your thumb over his tip, smearing the precum down his length. you missed how sensitive he gets when your mouth is wrapped around him, tongue swirling around his head, teasing his slit. you missed the unintelligible whimpers that leave his throat when you take him all, spit pooling at the base of his cock, nearly choking at the size. you missed how--

"you can't even handle your own punishment, baby," soshiro breathes, words laced with a dangerous amusement. his head falls back at the feeling of your hand against him. a shaky sigh escapes him, heat spreading to form a knot in his lower belly as he feels his cock harden. "shit," he mutters. "shit, shit, shit."

you smirk at the profanities he so rarely says, fingers inching to dip under his waistband as you trail down the sensitive skin, causing him to shudder. "you want it too," you pout, eyes fixated on the rhythm of his chest rising and falling-- the way he brushes a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. "or... maybe not?" you tease, pulling your hand away before moving to turn over, but not before soshiro's hand can grip your wrist, stalling your actions.

soshiro's skin is hot, face flushed as he relishes your touch, yearning to feel your soft, velvet walls wrapped around him. it had been too long, he thinks. too long of trying to convince himself he didn't need you, but now, with you so willing to give yourself back to him, he's changed his mind.

"i do," he whispers, although his actions speak louder when he pulls you back to him. "fuck, i want you."

your hand is placed back on his cock, and through the fabric you feel him throb, begging to be taken out. the drawstring of his sweats seemingly unties itself when soshiro pulls the material off, watching as it springs free-- tip leaking with precum. silently gazing at you with hooded eyes, he pumps himself one, two, three times.

sochiro lets out what sounds like more of a whimper than a sigh, "stop gawking and help me out here, would you?"

— ✶ FURUHASHI IHARU | 20 minutes

iharu is a simp through and through. as soon as you enacted the sex ban, he made it his life's mission to eradicate it. i mean, he couldn't just let his girl go without having his cock, right? that would just be too cruel...

"come on, baby. that's not fair, i didn't do anything wrong. it's not my fault vice-captain walked in on us. how was i supposed to know he trained that late?" iharu rambles, pressing his body against your back. his body is hot, still sweaty from the session earlier.

it had been 15 minutes since you had made it back to your dorm in total and utter embarrassment. both of you had left the the gym with red faces and blue balls.

iharu's cock had been slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, one that you weren't even sure was human. too enamored with the way your pussy squeezed him, all he could muster were lazy fingers messily rubbing circles against your clit. you could feel yourself throbbing against his girth, each thrust practically molding your walls to the shape of his cock-- memorizing each detail.

his muscles flexed as he held himself above you on the bench press, the red leather beneath you wet and shiny with sweat, sticking to your skin.

he looked like a god, hell, he felt like a god, with the way his breath fanned your neck, balls slapping against your ass. each slap echoed through the quiet gym, the filth of the sound only spurring the both of you on. "so pretty for me," he mumbles, tongue swiping up your neck before letting out a shaky sigh. "so good to me." your back arched, leaning into him as the heat in your stomach grew, breath picking up in an attempt to chase your orgasm.

and then the door creaked, causing you both to freeze in place and look for the source of the sound. there, hoshina stood, eyes wide as he swiftly turned, back facing you so that you can only imagine the look on his face. "gym is closed after midnight." he'd stated, voice loud, almost like he's trying to block out what he just saw. "go to bed." walking out and closing the door behind him you lay there, iharu's cock still twitching inside you.

"sex ban for two weeks, iharu." you turn to face him, crossing your arms to push him away, watching as he nearly trips on the end of your bed.

his mouth drops, hands gripping your shoulders in a plea. "what? why?" his hold on you isn't strong by any means, just firm, and you can tell you've struck a nerve.

you know he was still pent up from being cock-blocked earlier, but you make no motion to even spare his hard-on a glance. "what do you mean why? i told you we were going to get caught and we did!" your voice raises but you nearly instantly regret it when iharu takes a deep breath, trying to calm the ache pressing against his sweat pants.

he only gets hornier when you're mad at him.

you lower your voice this time, taking his hands off your shoulders. "you didn't listen to me."

"you liked the idea." he lowers his head to whisper in your ear. "i heard the way you were moaning, begging for me to let you finish. how much tighter your pussy squeezed me than normal at the thought of someone walking in." iharu's hands move to the small of your back, tracing his finger tips up and down your spine.

you huff, trying not to concentrate on the way his nails tickle your skin. your head dips down, attempting to calm your breathing before realizing your mistake.

your eyes meet the bulge in iharu's sweats and you nearly let out an audible gulp, thighs pressing themselves together at the sight. he wasn't the only one still pent up.

you hear a low chuckle from above as you absentmindedly move your hands to untie his drawstring.

"so much for a ban," you hear him mumble before shooting him a glare. "not that i mind though, pretty girl."

— ✶ NARUMI GEN | 2 days

there was a mutual end to the sex ban between the two of you... well, sort of. gen had broken it but it's not like you were mad about it.

your breathing was hot and heavy when your eyes open to a half-lit room. absentmindedly, you reach for the right side of the bed, feeling an empty, cold space. it was strange, usually you'd wake up to the man clingy to your side, shivering from the blasting air conditioner.

you had gotten used to his weight as he laid half of his body on you, lips pressed into the crook of your neck. he'd curl into you like a cat, and you swear some mornings you could hear him purr. his hands rested under your body, one cradled your shoulder while the other rested protectively across your waist. it's be a funny looking sight to outsiders-- japans strongest, the number one anti-kaiju combatant in all of the country, snuggled up on top of his girlfriend-- but to you, it was everything.

gen was nowhere to be found next to you, so you nearly jump when you feel a wet kiss press to your upper thigh. you're quick to lift up the covers, your aforementioned missing boyfriend squinting at the light. his hair was a tousled mess, colored ends curling to frame his face. had he been not been between your legs, you'd have thought the sight innocent and sweet.

sleep-heavy eyes meet yours, glazed over in exhaustion before he's swiping his tongue between your folds. you shiver.

it's such a dirty sight. the way he smirks into your pussy, maintaining eye contact. the way his lips find your clit and gently suck, slurping at the excess arousal dripping from your cunt.

and god the noises.

the wet slurping of his mouth savoring your juices filled the room, breath fanning hot against you. the feeling of his lips latching to your clit, tongue gliding through and dipping into your hole caused you to jerk up into him and he only smiled, chuckling at your reactions.

the humiliation burned, too embarrassed to look any longer. but his touch, the rough calluses of his hands holding your legs apart despite your desperate attempt to close them around his head, was intoxicating. "mornin' sleepyhead," he mumbles, pressing a caste kiss to your lower stomach. it was sweet compared to the sight from two seconds ago.

the pads of his fingers trace circles along your thighs, eliciting chills from your body. yet his hands are warm, especially against the cold air. with every shift of your body, a rush of air brushes against your cunt. you shiver, not saying a word but instead curling your hands through his hair and pushing his mouth back to where you needed it most. you needed the warmth-- needed him.

no further words needed to be said as gen drags his tongue ever so slowly through your folds. it's agonizing, it's not enough, it's nearly torture the way he curls his tongue and laps at your juices. so so so slowly as you twitch and buck into him, grinding against the muscle for more. he just huffs out a laugh, actions somehow slowing even further and you finally build up the courage to seek a glance at him again.

his gaze remains firmly fixed on you, meticulously observing every subtle twitch of your body in reaction to the flick of his tongue. and he notices when your breathing starts to pick up, chest rising and falling with increasing fervor as you feel yourself near your release. you close your eyes, concentrating on the heat rising in your core. it's hot and it's approaching fast, bubbling down your stomach and to your cunt.

and then he stops, a gasp leaving you at the sudden halt and your quick to scoff in frustration. sliding up the bed to rest his entire body on you, gen presses a long, wet kiss to your lips.

your eyebrows furrow at the action but relax when his head rests against your chest. "not gonna let you cum until the sex ban is gone," he mumbles into you. hands sliding under your shoulders.

you groan, hand gently slapping the back of his head as he just laughs. "it was gone the second you started eating me out."

"well in that case--"

832 notes · View notes

carmenized-onions · 4 months

Text

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life— Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear x you #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

451 notes · View notes

bluesidez · 3 months

Note

AHH CMON REQUESTS!! I know the inbox is flooded girl omg.

okay so as a request, i would really love to see a story where black, plus size reader and Miguel take on wedding planning. Reader is happy enjoying cake tastings, dress shopping, venue hunting etc. and groomzilla!miguel is trying to make everything perfect for her. It can be nsfw, but I trust you with whatever the vibe is! Love you down!! ✨✨✨✨

["It’s My Wife’s Day!"]

lab tester: @leoeloo 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader, black!Reader, PlusSize!reader

summary: No one is going to stop Miguel's fiancé from having the best day of her life, not if Miguel has anything to do with it.

content warning: AAVE (YAY!), sorry to anyone named Elana or Finley, Miguel gets a little mean here (I tried to keep it reasonable but he’s giving Libra Diva DOWN), mentions of food, some cultural (traditional) things from both sides but nothing crazy, there is one scene that could be triggering for my fellow big girls (but it's handled with care I promise), 18+ at the end so MDNI, it's also pretty suggestive throughout

word count: 8,888k EXACTLY (there should be no mistakes for as long as I've been working on it....but hey)

a/n: AHHHH! I was so happy to receive this request! (You have also been very sweet to me since my very first fic and I really appreciate that!!!) I said on my blog that I really love all things weddings, so this was a super fun write. I just love imagining Miguel in this position of making sure that his girl has everything while the girl is in complete bliss. (The mom here was also heavily inspired by my own mom who is much more active than I am in terms of telling people off.) As per our DMs, I did sprinkle in a little GR!Mig mannerisms! And! I added him being super in love with reader…but that’s a given. I do hope you enjoy! Also, I LOVE YOU!

Miguel refers to reader as his wife constantly before they’re actually married.

Also a headcanon for Miguel here that isn’t said explicitly is that his Libra trait of indecisiveness is on at all times.

Miguel could never forget the day you set his heart ablaze when you said those destined words:

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He was over the moon. Weeks of him getting you to warm up to him, months of him chasing after you, years of him trying to show you that he’s the right one for you, and finally, your hand was adorned in the rock he’s been planning for you for eons. You were truly his lady, now and forever.

The proposal was quiet and intimate, mostly because Miguel was a bit fearful you would say no, a seed of doubt growing the longer he waited. He steadily reminded you to get your nails done and paid for your hair appointments every now and then. Each time he thought he could do it, he chickened out.

Then, one night under the stars after an unnecessary work event, his feelings just overloaded.

You were so ethereal.

He remembers you laughing over something his drunk coworker had said, eyes sparkling as you retold the story. Your curls were parted to the side, earrings dangling past your jaw. Your legs were swinging over the edge of his trunk, not a care in the world as you talked with vigor.

He thought that he couldn’t live without this. He couldn’t have a life without small moments like this with you. He couldn’t imagine a moment where you weren’t by his side.

So, the words spilled out of him like water. He took your hands in his and poured his heart out. Finally, the ring box that had practically melted a shape into his thigh was being freed.

You cried when you noticed what he was doing, emotions doing a complete 180.

“No wonder you kept giving me extra money for my nails,” you let out a watery laugh as you leaned into him.

Now, here you both were, almost a year later in the middle of wedding planning.

The theme and colors were carefully handpicked, the venue was booked, and almost every week, the two of you had something to look forward to.

Miguel was currently prepping ingredients for tonight’s dinner, listening as you chatted about your great wedding dress search of the day.

“We stopped by one store, but the lady behind the desk immediately turned us down. I didn’t want to ruin such a good vibe, so I left it at that. Ma was ready to hurt her though.”

Miguel felt his nerves tighten at the news, “What?”

“Yeah, as soon as me and my entourage walked in, she ran up to us saying something about a short stock, but we knew she was lying-”

“What’s the name?”

You raise your eyebrows at his abruptness.

“Miggy, it’s really ok. Don’t worry over this,” you got closer to him, taking his face into your hand.

“I’m not. What’s the name?”

You pull his face down to yours, “Nuh uh. I’m not giving you the name. We said we weren’t going to be stressed out over this process, remember?”

Miguel closed his eyes and brought his hands down your body, leaning his forehead against yours, “I remember.” He blew out a breath and squeezed your ass in hopes that it would help calm him down.

“Good. Now, you stay right here and I’ll go get ready for dinner. I wanna tell you about this poor girl whose dad didn’t like a single thing she put on.”

You kiss him three times, the last kiss lingering a little longer with Miguel humming into your lips and lean back with a warm smile. Miguel’s hands clinged to you until you were too far to reach and you walked upstairs to change into your house clothes.

Miguel stood next to the island, tapping his fingers against the granite with a tongue poking into his cheek.

The dress shopping process was the one he was the least involved in, opting to be surprised on the day you walked down the aisle. You wouldn’t even let his family pitch in for the dress, saying something about running up your dad’s pockets.

But how does a dress shop conveniently run out of dresses once his fiancé walks in?

Right as Miguel was considering googling every dress shop in the area, his phone buzzed to life.

Just the person he wanted to hear from.

“Hello?” Miguel turned to toss some butter on a skillet, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Miguel…”

He stopped in his tracks, knowing the exact tone of voice your mother was using.

“What happened?”

“Today was so beautiful!”

“But?”

“But that one shop on James Street? Terrible.”

Miguel would have usually chuckled at the dramatics, but this situation was no laughing matter to him.

“You should have seen the way the people in there turned they nose up at us! One lady was about to jump out of her skin. All of this for some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Miguel shifted his position and stood up straight, tossing minced garlic in the sizzling butter, “Did they say anything to you?” His hands were gripping the phone enough to leave indents on his skin.

“Other than telling us how she wouldn’t have anything we would like, no. She didn’t even want us taking a seat in the lobby.”

He moved to grab a pen and a notepad from the drawer, “Do you have the name of the shop?”

“Lady Love. They should call it Lady A Lie.”

Miguel smiled, thankful that he could count on his future mother-in-law to be his partner in crime specifically when it came to making sure that no one brought harm to you. The number one thing that he and your mom had in common was their need to spring into action.

“Thank you. She didn’t want to tell me anything.”

“Trust me, if she hadn’t begged me not to act a fool, I would have cussed that heifer out. She was so nasty and so rude. That ol’ cow.”

“They’ll have a notice from my lawyer by the morning.”

Your mother hummed, “Let me get my iPad out and get to rating they store. It was a bleach blonde butched buffoon named Elana at the front desk. She was the one giving my baby a hard time. Nobody in there was trying to stop her either.”

“I’ll remember that,” Miguel could hear you coming down the stairs, fuzzy slides creating a steady tempo against the floor. “Let me call you back later.”

“She must be coming back. Tell her to bring me back my shoes!”

Miguel chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Was that Ma?”

“Yeah,” Miguel reached to place some chicken on the hot skillet, satisfied with the simmered ingredients he added. “She said to give her those shoes back.”

“She’ll get them back! I’m using them right now. What else were you two talking about?”

Miguel turns down the boil of the pasta noodles, shoulders tensing, “She was telling me about Lady Love.”

You clicked your teeth, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I’m not!” He turned the chicken over while you grumbled into his back. “But she called me with very upsetting news. What am I but a good son? I had to listen.”

“You two are gonna work my nerves.”

“Don’t say that. We’re just not going to sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. What kind of man would I be if I just let somebody not treat you right and I have the means to stop it? So, please. Let me do this.”

You huffed and buried your face into his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His words shut you up.

“Fine.”

“Thank you, cariño. Now, can you get the salad and the wine out of the fridge? This is almost ready.”

“What are you making?”

“Marry Me Chicken and Pasta.”

“So funny.”

“Ah, I know. It must really work, huh?”

Miguel walked hand-in-hand with you down the fancy boutiques in the shopping district.

You both had just gotten done wandering aimlessly as you waited for the cake-tasting appointment. Miguel had to be stopped multiple times from buying everything you complimented.

He was extremely happy to see you giddy about the cake tasting. It was something you’ve been looking forward to since the day you both confirmed a wedding date.

He’s studied your Pinterest boards heavily, the notifications dinging with every pin. He knows you want to go all out for the cake. Something large enough to feed both of your huge families and something grand enough to match the venue and the theme.

He arranged for the best of the best to be trying out today and if that didn’t work, he’ll seek someone else. He’ll even bake the cake if he has to, although you’d push him out of the kitchen.

“I hope they have that Biscoff flavor. I heard it was really good,” you turn to him with a hopeful smile.

Miguel smiled back at you, “I’m sure they will.”

He only lets go of your hand to hold the door open for you, eyes enjoying the view of your body in the flowy dress you were wearing. Earlier, he couldn’t stop kissing over the deep Queen Anne neckline of it, claiming that you smelled too good. You two almost didn’t make it out of the house on time.

“Hello! Welcome in!”

The bakery was bright and homey. The desserts on display were placed on light peach stands and risers and the smell of caramel and cinnamon was strong in the air. Square canvases covered the walls with cute paintings of some of the featured desserts.

“Miguel, look!”

You pull him over to some Miffy-shaped buns filled with different flavored custards.

“That is too adorable to even eat.”

“But I do hope you’d still be willing to give it a taste!”

You both look up to the friendly face behind the counter. They were a lanky figure with a glitter tattoo of a unicorn cupcake planted on their arm and pink gauges in their ears

“You two must be the future Mr. & Mrs. O’Hara. Lovely to meet you all.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Miguel reached his hand out to give a firm shake.

“My name is Finley and I’ll be assisting you all today. We have several beautiful flavors for you to try.”

Finely directed you both to a square table booth in the corner of the bakery. Miguel slid next to your right side in order to wrap his arm around with one hand and eat with the other.

“Other than the standard Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry & Cream, Red Velvet, Marble, and ‘Wedding Cake’ flavors that we offer, the samples for you here include Tiramisu, Passionfruit, White Chocolate Raspberry, Lemon Blueberry, Cookies & Cream, aaaand Dulce de Leche!”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up, feeling skeptical but open.

“Woah,” your eyes grew at the neat display of confections before you. “I’m so excited.”

“I’ll be right over here if you guys need me. Enjoy!”

You picked up a fork and dug straight into the Strawberries & Cream.

“That is so freaking good,” you groan out, eyebrows scrunching.

“Let me see,” Miguel turned to you with his mouth open, eyes full of mirth.

“Miguel, please.”

“What? It’s practice for the real deal.”

“When we’re the only ones in here?”

“It’s going to feel like an intimate moment just between us, no?”

You sigh, defeated. He doesn’t even budge when you shove a giant piece of cake in his mouth. He grabs your hand before you can retreat, licking slowly away at the leftover cream.

He focuses on the golden fork, working in between the prongs. Time slows down as you watch the white icing disappear into his mouth. His eyelashes are long and pretty and his lips are plump and a little wet from his tongue.

One more pass of the fork through his mouth and he’s looking up at you with the same fire from this morning.

You clear your throat, “Is that how you’re going to eat the cake?”

“Something like that.”

You two slowly but surely make it through the rest of the flavors with you trying to stay unflustered and Miguel trying to up the ante.

He’s grinning and chuckling at your ruffled state until you get to the Dulce de Leche cake. He harrumphs as you cut into it.

“No, no, you wanna eat cake so bad, so eat it!”

“This isn’t the cake I was talking about-”

“I’m going to shove this fork so far down your throat if you even think of finishing those thoughts out loud.”

“You know I love it when you get that way,” Miguel sighs and reaches to eat from the fork before you can say anything back.

You wait in silence as you watch his face contort from disgusted to neutral to pleased.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah?”

“A little too sweet. Abuela wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you like it, though?”

He paused as he watched you take a bite.

“Maybe.”

“Would you like it as our wedding cake?”

“No….”

You smirked at him, “But you want it as your groom’s cake?”

“…Yes.”

He looks so conflicted about it that you almost feel bad for him.

“Miguel it’s ok if you like it, no one is going hurt you. You know you have a sweet tooth.”

“It is really delicious, like eerily so. It’s not my favorite cake, though.”

“Oh? Was it the Cookies & Cream one?”

“Close.”

You look around the plate, confused as to how fruit flavors have anything to do with sandwich cookies.

Miguel got closer to your ear, lips grazing the top, “My favorite is you.”

You push his face back with your hand while he grins into your palm.

“I see you two lovebirds are enjoying everything,” Finley walks back over to the two of you. “Any standouts?”

Miguel lists off the ones you were enjoying the most with ease.

“We also enjoyed this Dulce de Leche one but we decided it would be best for my cake but before we move on, do you have any Biscoff cake samples that we can try?”

“Of course, let me go get that for you.”

He looks back at you cheesing at him.

“You remembered!”

“Always.”

Finley comes back with a small Biscoff bundt cake.

“Now, unfortunately, we don’t offer this flavor for any tiered cakes.”

You took a bite and almost soared. The flavors were just the right mix of salty and sweet, some caramel coating the top.

Miguel looked from you to Finley, “Can you just do it for one tier?”

“Um, I can ask my boss when she comes back-”

“You can leave her number with me. I would really love to talk with her face-to-face.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good,” Miguel reaches over to wipe some salt off of your lips. “My wife wants a pretty grand cake and she has some particular ideas. We want to be really involved in the process for the best result. No surprises.”

“Absolutely. Would you still want to place that order for the groom cake? We have a sale on toppers for them right now.”

They place a pamphlet on the counter with countless toppers of grooms in pure agony. Some are being dragged by their wives and others are running away. Miguel turns his lip up and moves his eyes to Finely without lifting his head up.

“These are very tacky and senseless, so no. We’ll place the order for it at the same time as the main cake.”

Finely moves to remove the pamphlet, face red and eyes wet, “I apologize. A lot of the future husbands enjoy them.”

“Do I look like the other husbands that come through here?”

“N-no sir! Not at all.”

“Tell you what, give me your boss’s number and your business card. We’ll circle back. Thank you for today’s tasting.”

“L-let me at least give you some extra dessert before you leave. Free of charge!”

Miguel helps you stand as Finley hops around the store grabbing any and everything.

“I really hope you consider choosing us for the wedding.”

“The wedding?”

“Your! Your wedding!”

“Hmph.”

Miguel grabs the box from Finley’s shaking hands and promptly leaves the store with you on his arm. You turn back to Finley with an apologetic look and a quiet sorry leaving your lips, though you’re sure they’re still shocked by Miguel’s behavior.

“I’m going to set up more appointments. We need a backup cake,” he says as he guides you back to the car.

“You loved those cakes and you scared that poor person to death.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me eating these cakes. And those were some of the most horrible toppers I’ve seen yet. Who does that?”

“You would be shocked to know that not every man is willing to celebrate and proudly love their partner.”

Miguel turned the car on and let the cool AC hit his face.

“But, if you still want to look at more bakeries, we can. More cake for me.”

You turn his face to yours and kiss his lips gently.

“Now what’s all this about eating me-flavored cake?”

He shifts the gear into reverse, “Let’s get home and you’ll find out.”

When you said you wanted creative and unique pre-wedding photoshoots, Miguel didn’t hesitate to make sure he could pull it together for you. Now he’s starting to regret it.

You walked out into the studio apartment with an oversized button-down that looked like it could be his, some thigh-high stockings squeezing at your thick thighs, and some black lingerie peeking through the thin shirt material. Your makeup was simple but jaw-dropping with glossy lips and a lovely blush that brought out a glow to your skin. Your hair was in a blowout style, curls bouncing with every step closer to him.

This specific photographer that you had mentioned in awed passing was known for her eye for romantic detail. Her pictures truly captured the love between couples in raw form. When you showed Miguel the pictures on her website, he was quick to get in touch with her to set up a decent amount of photoshoots. What he didn’t expect was for her to have an influx of assistants and protégés to have wandering eyes.

“Are you going to move the lights or are you going to keep gawking at my wife like an idiot?”

The one assistant who clearly didn’t understand what Miguel’s death stares meant jumped at his voice and rushed to move things within the set, the entire back of his neck beet-red.

“Baby, don’t be like that, he might just be nervous,” you slid your hands up his chest, straightening out his “work” shirt. “Don’t fuss at him.”

“He should do his job then,” Miguel shifted his gaze from the scrambling boy to you, voice getting quieter as he peered down at your excited face. “You do look beautiful, though. Can’t blame him.”

“You like it?” There was a spark in your eye. It was something that Miguel knew all too well.

He glided his fingers down your back, feeling the heat of your skin through the shirt. Your eyes never left his lips as he drew closer. You could feel his breath covering your skin.

The flash of a strobe light caused you to jump.

“These are going to make such stunning outtakes,” Xina gasped as she moved her camera back up to her face again. “Sorry to scare you. Please continue this and we can do the original plan in a second.”

You laughed as Miguel pulled you even closer, pressing kisses against your neck to avoid ruining your makeup.

The original idea of the shoot was to have Miguel look like he’s coming home from work and walking in on you dancing around in his clothes. The idea was cute, domestic, a little sexy, and true to life. While it wasn’t the set of photos going out with your wedding invitations, it was something fun for your socials.

As the scene played out, Miguel didn’t expect you to open up your shirt even more as he came back through the entryway. It made for a nice expression when he looked up to see you passionately dancing around the couch.

You urged him toward you with your finger, hips moving to the music blasting over the speakers Xina had behind the equipment. Miguel grinned and headed your way.

With Xina’s direction, the both of you were able to get out lively photos as if it were just a normal day in the soon-to-be O’Hara home.

By the time you all were finished, Miguel was only in a tucked-in tank top with his hair tossed and turned. You still looked perfect on his lap, grinning down at him as he mischievously bit his loose necktie that you placed on your shoulders.

“Perfect!” Xina smiled behind the camera. “Now, one little thing I like to do at the end of each shoot is have the couple face me with their faces together for one final picture.”

You kiss Miguel on the corner of his mouth and lay his tie on top of his head before turning to Xina. Miguel follows with a lazy grin on his face.

It would have all been so well if that same assistant wasn’t still staring at you like he’s never seen a beautiful woman before when Xina started to wrap up.

He met Miguel’s eyes and almost turned blue in the face trying to look busy.

There were so many more photoshoots to go in the near future. He’s not sure how he’ll make it through the next ones without making a scene.

“Miguel! The invitation samples are here,” you knocked on his office door, giddy with excitement.

Miguel rolls back from his desk, glasses perched on his nose, “C’mon, let me see.”

You stride eagerly to his seat and he’s waiting with the same energy, pulling you into his lap once you’re within arms reach. You make a noise of excitement as run your finger under the envelope flap. Miguel leans his head on your shoulder waiting to finally see the design you so meticulously planned.

You slid the cardstock out, gasping as you saw the paperdoll drawings of you and Miguel on the page. The artists did a fantastic job of designing you both in such a stylistic, yet recognizable way.

“Oh my god, look at the little outfits!”

You panned through the cut-out clothes, one with you all’s work outfits, another with casual outfits, and the last one with a wedding dress and a tux. You brought the papers up to cover your mouth as you laughed again. Miguel’s heart soared at the charming way you reacted.

“Look! They even captured your cute nose right!”

“You love my nose, huh?”

“Stop,” you snicker as you pull out the last picture. It’s one from a more recent photoshoot with you both in formal, dressy attire with scissors and measuring tapes in your hands and paper hearts everywhere to match the paperdoll invitation.

Miguel took the invitations from your hands, wanting to get a better look. It really was one of a kind, something you both would be able to look back fondly at.

He ran his thumb across the words, really taking in the fact that you’ll be walking down the aisle right into his arms. He read the words once more.

Save the date…

2025…

Miguel &…

“How the hell did they spell your name wrong?”

You looked up from the picture in your hand with a frown, “What?”

“We waited this long for samples and they spell your name fucking wrong.”

You read over the invitation again and let out a groan, “Of course. Let me call the company-”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You looked busy when I knocked, I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”

“Making sure that my wife’s name is spelled correctly on our wedding invitations isn’t getting sidetracked. I’ll handle it.”

You felt your shoulders drop, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying releasing from your body.

“Thank you so much, baby,” you sent him the number with a small smile on your face.

Miguel gave your lips a peck, “Anything for you. Don’t worry your head about it.”

You stood up to leave, but not before he gave your thighs a squeeze.

When he was sure you rounded the corner, he immediately pressed the number, blowing slowly through his mouth.

He was about to work his way to free invitations and a year's worth of service once he was finished.

Miguel laughed at the video you sent him. You were practically glowing with the turquoise waves in the background and braids in your hair. A giant plumeria was tucked behind your ear and you held a big fruity drink in your hand.

You were out on your bachelorette’s trip, enjoying the waves in the sand as you caught up with your bridesmaids. He hadn’t seen any annoyed texts yet, so he assumed that the trip was not falling to pieces.

He could hear your friends in the background bickering about how they had to take your phone away sometimes to stop you from texting him.

“She got a few more months of being a hoe!”

“Will you shut up?! I’m making a video.”

“It’s true, though! We’re about to go get drunk as fuck. Don’t worry, Miguel, we got her!”

You just rolled your eyes and smiled at their antics before the video ends.

The mood of the video contrasted your texts entirely. They really did get you drunk.

“i miss you alreadyyyyyy”

“I miss you too but you need to have fun”

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport in just a few days.”

“good”

“you better be waiting for me”

“i wont you”

“shit”

“want you”

“you and your dick”

“gonna sing to him”

“Him?”

“yeah him”

“he’s mine”

“gonna love on him”

“and you”

“miss you so baaaaad”

“the bed is empty without you :((((“

“I hope you remember all of this when you see me baby”

“my name is mrssss oharaaaa”

“idk who baby is”

“Ok well Mrs. O’Hara you need to go to sleep”

“i will go to sleep mr ohara”

“gonna dream of you”

“and my big dick”

“You do that”

“Send me a pic when you wake up”

The night could have ended perfectly. He knew you had fun and crashed safely in your room. There were no problems with the resort or the reservations. You were constantly flooding his phone with pictures without talking because of the “No Miguel” rule he was sure your friends set.

Miguel wanted to close his eyes in peace.

So when his assistant sent him the picture of one of the most crucial parts of your wedding, he could feel his neck tightening. He called Ben instantly.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

“The broom! They had a lot of them at the store but this one was plain and white, so I feel like it’s perfect for the wedding.”

Miguel pinched his forehead in an attempt to keep his eyebrows from molding together, “Do you have a schedule for when you’re this stupid, or is it only reserved for me?”

Ben was silent for a second, “I don’t understand, I thought you said you needed a broom? Is that not what this is?”

“A broom to jump over Reily. For weddings. I told you to check with Jess about it because I knew you weren’t going to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. Imagine if I brought this home to my wife. She would be offended.”

“W-what’s the difference?”

He might find out the difference once Miguel hits him over the head with it.

“I’m going to fire you.”

Miguel wasn’t really. He was just so tired.

“Return the broom. I’ll take care of this in the morning.”

Ben was stuttering and blubbering as Miguel smacked the red button. He needed to look at the pictures you sent again. He didn’t need to fall asleep in such a bad mood.

Miguel was certain that if he were a celebrity, this would be the wedding of the century with the way the bill was racking up.

Not that it really mattered, because it was his wife’s day. Anything you wanted, he was going to get it.

You both agreed on a buffet-style dinner for the reception with different stations and servers to accommodate your huge families.

Currently, you both were tasting the traditional foods that the caterer had to offer and it was looking less than desirable.

The greens were a bit bland, the catfish was ok, and the mac & cheese was delicious.

The pork was a bit dry, the wedding cookies could have been better, and the mole was missing something.

“I think,” Miguel pushed his food around the plate. “It’s missing banana.”

“Really? I’ve never thought to add that before.”

“For future reference, it’ll really make the difference.”

You wiped your fingers above the plate, “I think this might be a sign to leave the traditional stuff to our dessert table. Some of these are great but I’m sure both of our families will be up in arms with complaints. And maybe this is for the better! Tradition is too on the nose.”

Miguel admires your positivity because this is probably the sixth caterer you both have tested out.

“We know you’re popular from your page, so what is it that you’re most confident in?”

The woman before you all smiled, “Since you're both looking for a pretty ambitious spread, I think things like a pizza bar or build-your-own stations should be the way to go.”

Through another round of dishes, you and Miguel were amazed by the specialties that the chef had to offer from the customization to the endless amount of options.

After a long Q&A trial between the chef and Miguel:

“Do you have simpler options for the kiddos?”

“Is it possible to do this station and this station right next to each other?”

“Should I hire more help for you?”

“Do you sell this mac & cheese separately?”

“Can you try this mole one more time?”

You both settled on five different stations with food ranging from BBQ to fries to candy. No one will be able to say that they went home hungry.

“Are you satisfied?” you rub Miguel’s chest on the way out to the car.

“Completely. I think it’s going to be great.”

The big day was getting closer and closer with finalizations being made and arrangements galore. The cake flavors were chosen, your dress was being edited to perfection, makeup and hair appointments were already made, and Miguel’s suit was tailored like no other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were all fitted, especially after Miguel’s constant trips to Lyla’s shop. He was there for nearly every snip, tuck, and seam.

The time was really winding down and you both could really feel that as you walked into the reception venue.

Miguel woke up that day to a phone call claiming that the venue had been overbooked and was seeking him out to cancel his event. He’s never called people faster in his life. The threats that were made was not something he was proud of, but he’s glad he didn’t wake you up.

Now he has the pleasure of watching you glide around the tables in awe.

“Miguel! Look at the plates! The silverware! The centerpieces!”

It truly was magical watching your vision come to light.

Miguel followed after you with a grin painting his lips, checking every table for faults. The wedding planner was also next to him, waiting with bated breath for direction from Miguel.

“This should be here,” Miguel pointed to a lone party favor in the middle of a plate.

The planner moves it with ease, used to Miguel’s demands at this point in the process.

Miguel kept walking towards the tables closest to where you and he would be sitting.

“I thought I said that these two weren’t supposed to be next to each other? We don’t have time for arguments that night,” Miguel picks up two placeholders. “I don’t want to have to carry our aunts out of here myself. Fix it.”

The wedding planner grabbed them and made a note on their clipboard.

“And where’s the centerpiece for our table?” Miguel checks his watch. “It was supposed to be here yesterday.”

“There was a delay in the flowers. They were the wrong shade, remember? They should be here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll have the final touches to it.”

“And you’ll have the pictures sent to me?”

“Of course.”

“Miguel!” you were on the other side of the hall by the dessert table. “The lights over here are shaped like hearts! How cute is that!”

Miguel’s arms unfolded, demeanor shifting as he watched you get excited by the different labels. His chest rose up and the scowl on his mouth disappeared.

“You really love her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“This is a toast to everyone who has been with us on this long, long journey.”

Your closest friends and family laughed at Miguel’s words.

Who’s to say that Miguel essentially blacked out making sure that everyone walked down the aisle correctly just a few hours earlier? No one brave enough to bring it to his face.

“You guys have been here from the start. From the moment I decided to pursue this angel of a woman, you guys were right there cheering me on. Now we’re here years later about to take on one of the biggest days of our lives.”

The table was a mix of happiness and nostalgia, excitement and fondness.

“I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of our bridal party. I can’t even thank you guys enough for encouraging us as a couple. The love in this room truly knows no bounds.’

Miguel lifts his glass up with one hand and squeezes your hand with another.

“So here’s to the present and the future. To family and friends. To us, your future O’Hara’s.”

The table clinks their glasses together with a cheer, watching as Miguel kisses you with so much adoration.

Tomorrow was going to be whimsical.

Today was starting out obnoxious.

Anything that could go wrong was going wrong for Miguel.

First, woke up almost an hour late due to playing stupid games all night with his groomsmen. He would have preferred one my night with you before the “I do’s,” but apparently that was bad luck. Instead, he got an extensive game night with a couple of beers. Nothing to have him over the edge, but definitely something to make him feel like he was in college again.

Second, he couldn’t find his cufflinks that he had made specifically for this day. They were custom with your initials and your birthstone on them. The room looked like a whirlwind after he searched top to bottom only for Gabriel to have them the whole time and tell him almost forty minutes later.

He wanted to strangle him.

“Miguel, I have the rings too. There’s no way you think that Peter B. is a better ringkeeper than I am.”

“If you lose them, I swear to god I’m going to-”

“Yeah, yeah. Death, Grim Ripper, stabbing, big whoop. Go calm down.”

Third, for some reason, Peter B. had Mayday in the hotel suite when the only children that were supposed to hit the aisle were his niece and your nephew.

“Why is that baby here?” Miguel tried to keep his voice level because it’s not Mayday who ran in here, it was Peter who’s constantly doing what he wanted. She was walking around and chatting with the groomsmen who were kind enough to keep up her conversations. Four-year-olds had a lot to say.

“Ah, she’s just here until her grandma comes by to pick her up!”

“Peter, if I pass out before I see my wife today, you’re going to be the first reason.”

Lastly, when everything was finally settled and he was ready to go to the ceremony venue, Gabriel came running in and almost gave Miguel a heart attack. Something about you and crying and Miguel almost broke the door down trying to get out.

“Miguel, don’t look at her!” Gabriel ran after him as he made his way to your suite.

“I’m not, damn it, I just need to make sure she’s ok.”

He was on your floor in a flash, your friends waiting outside the door.

“Where is she?”

“She’s inside. We calmed her down for the most part, but her aunt got up here somehow and started to talk shit.”

“Miguel, if Jess and her mom weren't able to remove her, it would have been bad. She kept saying things about how you’re being tricked. She kept telling her that she wasn’t worthy enough to be a bride.”

“What?” Miguel walked towards the door. “Let me in.”

“Let us make sure you can’t see her, first.”

“I really don’t give a-”

“Miguel.”

He turned to Gabriel who pushed his hands down in a pressing motion, “Ya relájate, yeah? She’s not going to be centered if you aren’t centered.”

With that in mind, Miguel waited at the door until he was allowed in. Your friends said you were in the bathroom with the door cracked. He walked over and turned his back to the door, tapping in a light rhythm so as not to startle you.

“You ok, baby?”

He could hear your sniffles and it took everything within him not to take the hinges off the door just to get to you.

“No, not really. I, I’m terrified.”

“Honestly, me too.”

The door moved a bit, and your voice sounded closer, “What if I’m not the woman you need?

He scoffed, “And what if I’m not the man you need?”

You were quiet for just a moment, “You are more than what any man has ever been for me. I don’t think there’s been even a day where I could fix my lips to say that I haven’t felt your love and your heart. You’re…you’re everything to me.”

“So how do you think I feel when someone has convinced you that you aren’t enough for me?” Miguel turned his head to the crack. “No woman has opened my eyes like you have. No person has stolen my heart and cared for it the way that you have. I can’t even begin to describe the ways in which you’ve changed me for the better. You are my world.”

“Miguel,” your voice was watery as you took a deep breath.

“If you want to call this entire thing off and go to the Justice of the Peace, that’s fine with me. We can send our family straight to the reception. I don’t care, as long as I have you.”

“No, I want to still have this ceremony. I still want to present our love. I’m just overwhelmed right now.”

Miguel moves to slide his wrist through the door, “Give me your hand.”

You laugh as you take his hand in yours, careful not to lean on the door and smoosh it.

“You are worthy to me and this is only a new chapter in the foundation that we’ve built. No jealous aunt nor any other family member is taking what we have away. I chose you, you chose me, ok?”

“Ok,” you squeeze his hand as rubs the top of yours with his thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Miguel’s heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird fluttering around nectar.

He stood at the end of the aisle with his one hand grasping one wrist and a knot in his throat. The seats were filled with waiting people, but he didn't think anyone was more ready than him. Gabriel had patted him on the back once he was down the aisle, now he stood with his daughter at his side making sure Miguel really didn’t pass out.

Miguel’s tunnel vision shifted as everyone got up to watch you come around the corner. Miguel’s breath stopped.

You really were his world.

Your smile was blinding as you stepped towards him, your father’s arm wrapped tightly around yours. The closer you got, the more Miguel could feel the air coming back into his lungs.

As he waited for your father to put your hands in his, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so lucky, he couldn’t believe it.

As he held his hands out, he had to will himself to relax.

You stepped closer to him, your warm palms bringing life back to his.

“You’re shaking.”

He looked to his hands and they did have a faint tremor to them, “I’m excited.”

With eyes for only each other, you both made it through your vows. Miguel damn near brought the audience to tears with his imagery of a lost younger version of himself and you finding him in his aimless pursuit of living. How you opened up to him like a waterfall behind thick vines. How you wrapped your arms around him. How you upgraded his life.

You almost brought him to tears when you spoke about how he loved you. How he stood tall between all that was against you and guided you to better days. How he never went a day without showering you in some form of love, even when he was feeling like shit. How he made you want to grow old with him and walk through life together.

To the shock of no one, you both said “I do” with ease, no objection to be heard.

When he kissed you, the world stopped for only a second and came back down with the celebration from your guests. His hands on your jaw brought you closer to him and one swipe of the tongue before he pulled away had you excited for later.

One more kiss and you both turned to the crowd ecstatically. The broom was placed in front of you both and with three taps on your hand you both took a huge jump over it. Your family and friends cheered even louder.

Walking down the aisle to the doors, Miguel could actually pay attention to the crowd. So many people were smiling and wiping tears from their faces. It only solidified the love that he had for you.

You both laugh as flower petals fill the air around you on the way to the car.

It was really a joyous occasion.

Miguel was so happy, he didn’t care what anyone else did.

Ok so, he did stop one of his baby cousins from sticking their entire head in the fondue machine, but other than that, he was so relieved.

The DJ announcing you two as Mr. & Mrs. Miguel O’Hara elevated his mood and the trip to the dance floor for the first dance had his spirits high.

The two of you had a sexy number, with his hands barely leaving your hips and his fingers sliding up the slit of the sparkly dress you changed into.

After that, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He tried to distract himself with catching up with family, grabbing food from each station, having dance competitions, laying sleeping kids more comfortably in chairs, anything to stop himself from just dragging you to your reserved hotel room.

When you two stood near the cake feeding each other bites with hearts in your eyes, he couldn’t help but to lean into your ear and whisper, “Still the second best flavor.”

You hit his chest with one hand and covered your cake-filled mouth with the other.

By the time you drove off with ribbons and flowers trailing the back of the car, Miguel was practically buzzing getting you all to himself.

He made that known by carrying you bridal style to the room without a care in the world and you laughing into his neck.

You kissed his neck as he refused to let you, even for the elevator, “You’re so silly.”

“The better to make you laugh, Mrs. O’Hara.”

“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”

“Mrs. O’Hara. My beautiful bride today, my beautiful wife for life.”

He passes through the door after you reach to scan the keycard. As soon as he closes it you’re on his face kissing all over.

“My husband,” you say in between the passes of his lips against yours. “Mr. O’Hara. Will you put me down?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Then how will we finish off our night with a bang? C’mon, baby, I have a surprise for you.”

“Fine,” four more kisses and Miguel let you go.

“Just go sit on the bed and I’ll be right back.”

Miguel laid his jacket on a chair and walked over to the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt carefully, not wanting to tear the expensive material. He slid his shoes off carefully too, sliding into the fluffy slippers the hotel provided.

He would say he wishes he could have done more for tonight, but the two of you will be enjoying the fresh air of a foreign country in about two weeks time.

He sat on the bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. There was no telling what you had in store, and he can’t wait to find out.

“Close your eyes!”

Miguel obeyed, curious as to what you had in store. He could hear the padding of your heels on the carpet getting closer.

You took his hands and guided them to your ass and with muscle memory, he took a handful.

“I’m already sold,” he said, feeling some light fabric hit his wrists.

You chuckled at his face, seeing his tongue poked out to the corner and his hands feeling and kneading your body.

“Ok, open ‘em.”

Miguel parted his eyes to see you in beautiful white lingerie. A white open lace see-through babydoll set hugged your tits tight. Panning down, he could see your thin panty with the string pulled over your hips and the curve of your body on display. Going further down, on your left leg, there was a garter digging into your skin that read “Miguel’s Wife” in bold, red cursive letters.

“You like it?”

Miguel looked up to you with a tinier veil adorning your hair.

“This garter might be the only thing that makes it out unscathed.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” he leans forward to plant kisses along the top of your chest, pulling your thick thighs around him. “We’re gonna get a complaint.”

“Good,” you raked your nails down his nape, earning a groan from Miguel as you continued to his back. “I want you to make love to me.”

You start to grind along him, feeling the bulge in his suit pants grow. Miguel hummed and started to remove your top. It looked gorgeous on you, but it was useless to him at the moment. Your skin was sparkling all the way down to your nipples and it only made Miguel want to devour you more.

You gasp as he smacks your ass and hikes you up, his mouth latching onto your areola like it’s fruit from the chocolate fondue today.

“I’ve been wanting this all night,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “You looked so amazing today.”

“So did you,” you tilt his chin up to look at his face. “I saw you looking at me all night. You’re not very discreet.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

He got up with you in his arms and flipped you over, “Everybody there should know how I feel about you by now.”

You were a vision. Smooth skin contrasting with the stark white of the panty and garter, veil sprawled out behind you like a halo. Miguel bent down to kiss you again, truly in awe that this was who he had as a spouse.

“I want you to know how I feel about you too,” you whisper against his lips.

You guide his hand from your face to your breast to your panties. You part your legs, thighs shaking in anticipation. Miguel's eyes get wider as he sees your lips through the peek-a-boo hole of your underwear. One swipe and your essence is on his fingertips.

Miguel brings his eyes back to you as he takes his fingers and brings it to his lips, sucking it off with a pop.

You bite your lip watching him lick his fingers and unbuckle his pants.

The air is tight and heated, with you open and waiting and Miguel watching and wanting.

He leans back and pulls his pants down. You look down hoping to see a peek of what’s about to rock your world.

At the sight of your name and “MIC” in bold black letters across the band you bust out in giggles.

You sit up as he comes around to the side of the bed, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

You laugh even more when you see it up close.

“Help me take this off,” he turns around to show your name and “Husband” printed on the back.

You lean into his back in a fit of giggles, shocked but giddy.

“We really are soulmates,” you say as you pull the briefs by the leg. “Meant to be.”

Miguel turns back around, bending to slide your mouth with his, “Forever and ever.”

True to his word, it really felt like you were his favorite flavor with the amount of marks he left on your skin before he got back in between your legs. You were so wound tight that with one lick from your hole to your clit, you were already trapping his head there.

Miguel hummed and hiked your hips up, mouth moving to kiss your lips as if he were making out with the ones on your face. It was absurd how loud it sounded. His tongue kept swirling along your walls while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit.

You didn’t know where to keep your hands, but it did look good with your ring dazzling on your finger as you brought your hands to his head buried deep in your pussy.

“Don’t stop,” you cried as he started to nod his face along your flower.

Just when you could feel yourself ride to the edge, he took his middle and ring finger and spread you open. You shouted his name as you felt the cool touch of the ring slide in and out alongside the heat of his tongue.

You don’t remember when you came down, but you remember Miguel’s drenched face kissing along your shaking thighs.

“No Dulce de Leche is beating that, Mrs. O’Hara,” he reached to pull the soaking lace off, careful not to move the garter.

“C’mere,” you hold your hands out, wanting to feel him on you. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

Miguel groans into your mouth, grinding his dick along your wet folds. He finds your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“I love you,” he sighs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

One sweet session later, he had you on your stomach, back arched, and yelling into the pillows as he pounded into you.

You could see stars as his hips smacked loudly against your ass. The headboard was knocking against the wall with every push.

Miguel was really feeling the wedding attire as he had one hand gripping your veil by your back and the other pulling at garter.

When you came around his cock, he was diving in right after, letting go into your sea. The shudders of you afterwards had him moving a little more and turning your face to the side to kiss your panting lips.

By the time you two finished, you were sure the sun was soon to rise.

Your hair was a mess, the veil was somewhere across the room, and you both were tangled up in the sheets.

You laid your head on Miguel’s chest, content to listen to his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. He’s rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head.

“Thank you so much for stepping up and making this day so magical for me,” you look up at him. “Words can’t explain how appreciative I am.”

Miguel looked back at you, eyes warm, “I just want to see you smile. Thank you for giving me space to handle things.”

You pucker your lips and he reaches to comply.

“Now, we need to get some sleep. Gotta regain some energy.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say as you tilt your eyes down to the sheets. “Because I’ve got a show to put on when we wake up.”

Miguel just laughs as he pulls you onto his chest.

The birds chirping were a nice background noise to you all’s slumber.

I went through several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares in order to finish this. BUT! I am happy with the result. As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

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adorabluesposts · 6 months

Note

Hi!!

I loved your Lucifer x death story and I was wondering if you’d write a Lucifer x Reader but they are Alastors daughter who he kept sheltered? Like they are innocent and such but they were hellborn so they can’t leave. I feel like Lucifer would definitely pine over somebody so maybe him trying to get her to realize he likes her while Alastor keeps him away?

Tysm for being my first request<3 love this idea!!

This is realllyyyy long because I had to give in a lot of context before getting to the point. Might turn this into a series just because this is too fricking long 😭

Lucifer X Alastor's daughter.

"You dare to touch my daughter?"

For the longest time, you were locked away.

Locked away by Alastor, a man who raised you with a certain paranoia, keeping a happy mask on as he taught you manners in his Radio Tower, never letting you leave.

Alastor had raised you in seclusion, shielding you from the brutality of Hell’s politics and power struggles. You knew nothing of the outside world, your knowledge confined to the ancient tomes in the tower's private library. You pretty much devoured tales of angels and demons, of forbidden love and cosmic battles. But your favorite stories were those of your father—the radio demon who had once terrorized the living world, because it amazed you; Your father was never like that with you.

Even aunt Rosie would often tell of shenanigans Alastor did, which surprised you at first. You were truly in denial, of how your father could do such things. You got used to it, even coming at peace with knowing you'll probably never be like him.

There wasn't much interaction that you did- only talking to your father and his shadows, Rosie (who was very much your favourite person in the world) and some of the Overlord's, every now and then.

It was mostly you, all alone in the tower. All alone. Lonely. Bored. All alone. Bored. For decades. Eons. You lost count, seriously.

"Dad." You munched down your pancake, Alastor looking up from the mirror hung on the wall , even though he was supposed to fix his tie. "We need to talk."

"Could this wait, deer?" He replied, turning back to the mirror. "I'm late to my job."

Ah, yes, his job. The job you never asked about, because every time you wanted to, he'd shoot you a glare.

"No, I can't wait." You said, getting up from your seat and walking over to him, fixing his tie. "Dad, this is important. My birthday's soon.. and I'm positive I'm old enough to go outside. I've read so much about Hell that I know enough about it. I've even made a slideshow if you don't believe me!"

Alastor looked at you with an angrier expression. "My deer, we talked about this-"

"You can't keep me here anymore. You're not keeping me safe, you're ruining me."

Alastor sighed deeply.

"it's not fair, dad."

"it really isn't." He agreed.

Reluctantly, and with a lot of talking, you got him to agree. As long as you stayed by his side for a while, you'd be able to go out. You needed to sign a contract, though (father's orders), to swear that you'd try to stay safe.

"But how will I stay by your side if I can't accompany you to work? What is your job, anyway? Considering you're not working for the radio anymore." You asked, and he stayed silent for a few minutes. It was clear this was a big step, and he wasn't so happy about letting his little dove grow up.

"I work at a hotel." He sighed. "Do your research, darling. I'll tell my coworkers you'll be paying a visit."

"paying a visit? Does that mean I get to go there alone?" You eagerly asked.

"Oh, nonononono, I'm picking you up."

"You've got a WHAT?" The energetic voice of the blonde asked, jumping up and down.

"who knew smiles had it in him-" Angel earned a 'be quiet' glare.

"They'll be visiting today.. just don't get weird." Alastor's static buzzed lpudly. "I've been keeping them safe for as long as they lived. Their poor mind doesn't know how this all works."

"so they're a good person?" Vaggie asked, accompanied by Charlie's: "Does that mean we can get them redeemed?"

"Hahaha!" Alastor laughed. "They're a hellborn. And never in my mind mind would I let them leave my side and go to Heaven, even if they weren't."

"Did you know about this?" Husk's clearly too-sober voice asked Nifty, to which the girl just shook her head.

You nervously fidgeted with your hands as you awaited your dad's arrival. You were dressed nicely, wanting to make a good impression. What if your dad's friends were mean? Cruel? Evil? What if they didn't like you?

"Some of them are a bit odd." Alastor buzzed, his hand on the doorknob of the hotel. "You'll get used to it, deer."

You breathed in and out, calming your nerves as you walked in. "Woah, this place's not so b-"

"Hii, I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A girl eagerly ran up to you, shaking your hand with excitement. "I was soo excited to meet you! You need to see the others! I need to make a tour!"

You were pretty confused and feeling many feelings about the first interaction, but thought Charlie would be a fun person to befriend anyway.

"Hi, I'm Vaggie." A girl next to her said, softly taking Charlie's hand from yours, which you silently thanked her for. "I'm Charlie's girlfriend."

You smiled. "Nice to meet you both."

"That's Husk, he owns the bar." Vaggie said with a calm voice, pointing to the creature who grunted at you.

"that's Nifty, she cleans." Vaggie continued, her girlfriend jumping up and down in excitement next to her.

"And that's Angel Dust, our first resident. Sir Pentious was our second resident." Vaggie said, her voice followed by the 'Heya toots' the spider said.

"Will you be staying? We'd love to have you. You're so nice I love you already!" Charlie said, after a successful tour. You lost your dad long ago, seeming as if he's gone to do his own business (you pretended to ignore how his shadow replaced yours in the meantime).

"It wouldn't be too bad." You said. "I could get a bit of a break from my dad for once."

"Uhh, speaking of dads." Angel poked his head in the room. "Charlie, your dad's at the door."

Charlie nervously looked at Angel. "Oh, that's great.. what does he want?"

"He said he wanted to revisit without Alastor, since word is he's out of town."

"my dad's out of town? Great!" You silently mumbled.

"Oh, well, I guess it's time you meet my dad, aha." Charlie told you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Who is your dad?"

A short figure walked into the room, eagerly hugging Charlie. He looked so much like her, ignoring the height difference.

"Oh my." You whispered, recognising the face from the books. "Your dad's-"

"Oh, hello." The man smiled at you, looking you up and down, "I'm Lucifer, The-"

"King of Hell, yeah, I know. Oh my Satan."

An awkward pause followed. Silence. More silence. Him looking you up and then down again, making you fix your posture.

"Well, ha! Dad, why don't I show you some new things we added to the living room?" Charlie practically dragged Lucifer out.

Your mind instantly lingered on the king for the next few days. It was no surprise why he was the most beautiful man in the world, truly gorge- snap out of it.

"Deer, I've been talking to you!" Alastor set his cup down. "Why aren't you listening?"

"Oh, sorry. I was zoned out." You excused, and his static buzzed louder.

"Strange. You're never like this." He sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let you out."

His serene smile practically stared at you.

"No, dad, I mean-" You laughed nervously. "I just really miss the hotel, dad. It's really nice."

Excuses. More and more excuses every time you zoned out. Every day. And then he'd take you with him to the hotel, and you'd silently pray that Lucifer would be there. He never was.

"A party?" You questioned Charlie. Apparently, the princess wanted to throw a party to spread awareness and information about the Hazbin Hotel- people would come and have fun, Charlie and the crew would explain the deed, and we'd get more visitors.

If you ask me, Charlie's got the IQ.

"And you think I should come?" She nodded as an answer.

Your dad stood next to you, a protective aura lingering over his body. "I think it's a lovely idea, Charlie!" His static buzzed.

You looked at him, eyes widened. "You do?"

"we'll surely attend, Y/N." He smiled. "Would be good for you."

You shuddered. This was so unlike him.

"I don't have what to-"

"I'll help with that!"

"I don't know how to dance, either. And I'm socially awkward-"

"You'll be fine, come on!"

You looked at your clothes nervously. You looked good, better than ever, but what would others think? According to Charlie, a bunch of royalty would come (including Lucifer, the Ars Goetia.. Lucifer!!)

And all you could whisper out was fuck, because you were so nervous.

Charlie knocked at your door (technically her door, as you got ready in her room- the party started hours ago. It was the anxiety that made you stay), and practically begged for you to finally go.

You and her linked arms, to which you entered the main lounge area, where you saw people. So many people. And your anxiety rose.

You gave your best smile as she introduced you to a few people, such as Stolas of Ars Goetia (who you thought was very polite and nice, even through his sad smile), and a few of the Sins. Beelzebub was someone else you met, who instantly brought a grin and laugh to your face.

It was all gone when you caught Lucifer's gaze, and you both walked towards eachother. It was the second interaction you two would have- a chance to make a better impression.

"Oh, wow, you look dashing tonight." He said as he bowed to you.

That's right, he bowed. You internally screamed.

"You look quite wonderful, too." You said, and he rose up with a smile. He took your hand, your fingers brushing softly with eachother as he kissed it.

The music went silent, overshadowed by loud static. Everyone looked around confused as the room glowed red, and your father appeared behind Lucifer.

"You dare touch my daughter?" He growled. You could feel his anger and protectiveness in your gut. You sent him a reassuring smile and glance, to which he stopped towering over Lucifer, the music blasting again.

Everything back to normal.

Lucifer and Alastor exchanged a glare of pure hatred.

Shit, was Lucifer messing with you just to fuck with your dad? It was working, then. Alastor was beyond furious.

You looked into Lucifer's eyes and couldn't help but smile. It was like a spell. You were frightened, that you'd fall in love now, even though he was quite literally using you to get under your father's skin..

To be continued..

Okay that's it folks. This took a lot to upload but I've started the next part and ahhh I love itt. This is a bit rushed but I hope you like it so far :)).

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin spoilers #hazbin

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

Text

paper planes

brother to fushiguro tsumiki. (unofficially adopted) son to gojo satoru and you. nephew to a host of sorcerer uncles and aunts. (unwilling) assistant to the white-haired idiot. and, finally, ringbearer at your and gojo's still-undetermined wedding.

one teeny-tiny boy with one too many identity is what fushiguro megumi is - until he isn't. with lots and lots of sniffles and sniggers...

▸ gojo satoru x fem! reader; established relationship; post hidden inventory arc; manga spoilers; proposals; adoptions; alternate universe happy for everyone except toji lovers (sorry ＞︿＜)

▸ two fics in a week, wow. guess this is what is called a brainrot, huh? read this post by @/mintmatcha on tumblr and started writing this lol. but the plot of this story is miles, tons, eons away from that post, i swear. also, this fic is set in the same universe as blue hawaii but you need not read that first to read this. treat this as a stand-alone if you wanna! 😊 anyways, gif, divider and characters ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

"yeah, yeah, i've got it all planned."

a discreet eye roll is all megumi gives as he goes through the menu card in his hands. a little distance away, he can spy tsumiki and you seated at a table, you tying his sister's long hair into braids while the latter laughs, probably at a joke you cracked.

a tiny smile rests on the little boy's face at the sight - which vanishes when he feels a large hand tousle his hair. you had spent hours and hours righting his hair into a proper shape; why must this idiot always mess everything up?

megumi looks up to find his guardian looking down at him with a shit-eating grin; though he can clearly see the nerves it's covering.

idiot.

phone wedged in between his ear and shoulder, gojo mutters a "one sec, suguru," and crouches down to the boy's eye level. the latter gives back an unimpressed stare.

"decided what you wanna have, 'gumi? remember mom and sis there asked you to choose for them today."

megumi feels an urge to say you two aren't his real parents - but stamps it down instantly. the both of you have been as good as real parents can be to their kids - or maybe even better. the boy has read books, watched movies and listened to his classmates talk about their families; the tiny urchin-head knows.

with a huff, he points at the double chicken fillet burger box - it's tsumiki's favourite and you too don't seem to dislike it. with a nod, gojo rises and placing his orders, returns to the call, beaming expression again directed at megumi.

"yeah, yeah, don't worry, man," he speaks into the phone, then drops his volume to a mere whisper, "'my little kiddo here is a born actor. he remembers the entire plan, step by step - don't you, buddy?"

megumi gives an imperceptible nod, itching back to get back to the table. he already would have - needless to say, the little munchkin prefers your company to gojo's, way way more - but their orders have not been delivered yet and the boy promised to be-

a little tap on the shoulder draws him from his musings and he cranes his neck up to find gojo frowning. "no, megumi didn't want to discuss the plan with me before leaving. no, he doesn't like you better- hey," the man looks at him, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose revealing his indignant gaze, "you wanna discuss with uncle suguru one last time?"

an indifferent shrug is all the reply he gives.

while uncle suguru isn't the best uncle he has, he isn't the worst either. the others are- oh, wait. the others include uncle kento and uncle yu. they are literal angels compared to him. so... maybe... he is the worst... never mind. it's too late to back out anyways.

grumbling, gojo hands him the phone. "hello uncle," megumi greets just like you and tsumiki have taught him to. the man behind mutters something along the lines of ''traitor" or something; the boy pays him no mind.

"hey champ," the voice floats over the line, pleasant, kind and the way people talk to babbling babies. megumi's bored face turns irritated. "let's discuss the semantics one last time before boarding your flight, okay?"

"yeah, okay," megumi says, and casting a sideways glance at his bundle-of-nerves guardian, continues, "we're going to reykjavik," he looks at gojo, silently asking if he pronounced it correctly. the man sends him a thumbs-up with an encouraging grin.

the kid continues, "the plane will land at noon day after tomorrow, which is mom's birthday. first, we will go to the hotel. then, after resting, in the evening, we will head out in a car to watch the northern lights. and then-"

"-when it's the right moment, your dad will pop the question to your mom and you'll click the camera. got it, mr. future ringbearer?" finishing the rest of the sentence for him, the man at the other end asks, sounds of pans clacking and food sizzling in the background. nana-chan and mimi-chan must have woken up.

megumi nods. "yeah, got it, mr. future best man."

a chuckle comes in response to his comment. "you're a lot like your mom, y'know?"

"yeah," he mumbles, waving back to you and tsumiki, a little smile on his otherwise-impassive-but-always-adorable face, "i know."

"good," the man says, then pauses when a loud crash booms through the air and through the phone, a set of two wailing voices following it not soon after. megumi can quite literally picture the wincing frown his uncle is wearing as he says the next words in a hurry, "okay, 'gumi. talk to you later. bye, and best of luck! satoru's counting on his little assistant."

"yeah, thanks," he responds but is too late - the call is already cut by then.

giving the phone back to gojo, who's tapping his sneakers-clad feet on the floor, he looks back ahead, wondering when the hell heck their token number will be displayed and when they will get their food.

to the kid's great relief, it doesn't take a lot of time.

before long, the four of you are seated around the table, gojo stealing a sip from your drink and you stealing fries from him, all the while tsumiki giggles loudly at your antics. megumi smiles, before he hides it behind the burger which he takes a bite from.

the four of you really look like a family, don't you?

"hey, guys, can i have your attention for a sec, please?" your sudden question startles him from his mind. the boy turns to find you with your usual grin, albeit a smidgen of anxiety can be found in the way your fingers drum on the table.

megumi shares a look with tsumiki and gojo. they look as confused as he feels. "do i have your attention, people?" you ask again, manner growing a tad solemn unlike your usual, though the affection is still evident in your tone.

gojo and tsumiki nod immediately. you turn to him, gently smiling, "can i have your attention too, 'gumi? please?"

the boy nods his head instantly. "yeah, yeah. sure," he replies, scooting his chair closer to yours. you send him a relieved smile. "good, 'cause what i'm going to say next is very important. so, listen to me carefully, 'kay?"

all three of them are eager to nod in affirmation and anticipation.

scouring through your backpack, you retrieve a couple of pretty important-looking papers, and placing them back on the table, clasp your hands atop them. the kid spots gojo shoot you a worried look to which you respond with a reassuring smile.

the man's frown fades a little.

gaze now darting from one kid to another, you begin, "you two know, right, we love you very much?"

"yeah!" tsumiki exclaims, but is quick to fall silent when megumi shoots her a glare. you proceed, lips pressing into a thin line, "but we cannot adopt you two, in spite of how much all us want it to happen. we tried to, many, many times. but those higher-ups just won't let us do that."

a second passes - one wherein his young brain registers your words - before, lower lip wobbling, the boy casts his gaze down upon his light-up sneakers.

is this where you'll say he'll be sent to those zen'ins? away from his sister? away from you and gojo? away from all his uncles, aunts, nana-chan and mimi-chan?

megumi feels a hand card through his locks gently. looking up, he finds you with a soft smile. "but the thing is 'toru and i didn't let them defeat our purpose. we thought, you two can choose to be my clan's wards. not 'toru's, because of fucking - sorry, please forget i said that word - i meant, idiotic clan politics. so, what do you think?"

megumi turns to his sister, a pensive look plastered on her face the way it is on his. gojo adds, a tender smile in place of his usual stupid grin, "no pressure, kids. the both of us won't love you two any less and will be equally fine in case you choose not to."

"you guys can take how much ever time you need to think. there's no hurry," megumi hears you say, your warm hand rubbing circles on his back, as he turns back to his half-eaten burger.

a long moment passes.

passengers enter the cafeteria, they leave the cafeteria. the four of you remain seated, quietly munching on your food.

the boy finally removes his gaze from his now-empty tray and sends an inquiring, confused, hopeful look to his sister. tsumiki smiles back with a tiny nod. the little kid feels his heart burst with joy.

"we want to," the two of them answer in unison, and within a fraction of a second, megumi finds himself swept up in a warm hug alongside his sister, by you. "thank you for giving me, for giving us a chance," he hears you mutter quietly in a tear-choked voice. the boy simply pats your back the way you do to him. he soon feels another set of arms wrap around the three of you.

megumi thinks he has never felt happier or safer than in this moment.

a while passes with the four of you in this manner, enwrapped in an embrace, before you all finally pull away from each other.

the boy returns to his seat, rubbing his eyes. a minute passes in composing all of yourselves before you state, munching on another fry, "so, step one, including tsumiki and megumi into my legal family is done and successful. thank you, my loves."

tsumiki beams back at you; megumi returns a tiny smile. you grin at them - which, the kid watches, turns slyer as you switch your focus to your boyfriend.

the little boy stares at you, then stifles a snicker - he thinks he has a pretty good idea of what's gonna happen next. his gut instincts are rarely wrong, after all.

"but, 'toru..." you drawl, grin giving way to a smirk as gojo smiles back - perplexed but loving all the same. "for the step two, making you my legal family too, guess i need to wait to say 'yes' until the northern lights viewing two days later... don't i?"

a beat passes, then another, and another.

a loud gasp sounds from tsumiki. megumi turns to his dad - who's gaping wide-eyed at his mom now, the man's face whiter than his ugly hair - and smirks. just like the imp the goggles-wearing idiot always calls him at home, despite you repeatedly telling him not to.

gojo looks back at him, shock written on, engraved into his features.

"though i didn't really help you propose, i'm still the ringbearer, right?"

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fics #jjk imagines #gojo drabbles #gojo fics #gojo imagines #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kit posts 📝

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prettyinpwn · 2 months

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How Gravity Falls Could Have Been Better + Poor Ford and Wendy (GF Writing Analysis Pt. 2)

GF Writing Analysis Series: Pt. 1 - Ford Pines: A Masterclass in Writing a Good Flawed Character Praise the Axolotl, I feel horrible just writing that title. But let me preface this post with three statements:

I've been in this fandom since the first episode aired. I participated in this fandom while it was airing, and I will always cherish this fandom, those memories, and Gravity Falls itself even when I'm a crusty old lady in a rocking chair someday.

Gravity Falls is still my favorite show of all time, even as someone now nearing thirty years old. Nothing's ever topped it since in my mind, and I don't think anything ever will for me.

Writing and making a show is hard. It's easy for me to sit here and smash my little lady hands on a keyboard and criticize the Gravity Falls writing team's decisions. I'm sure if I'd been on that team, I'd have done a lot worse under that burnout and pressure, and I doubt I'll ever write anything anywhere near that critically acclaimed or beloved.

But... every time I've watched Gravity Falls from beginning to end, I've always felt that there was something off. And in recent rewatches, after I'd studied creative writing in college as a part of my minor, plus just having studied and done a lot of writing in my free time for years... I found out finally what it was:

The flaw, in my opinion, is the pacing. Gravity Falls is - and I mean this in the most respectful way to the writers, and I'm saying this as someone who will praise this show to my grave - poorly paced overall.

So what do I mean by that? Each contained episode is tightly written and nearly flawless in the pacing, but the overarching plot? I'll describe it like this: Picture a rollercoaster starting on a very, very slow incline. The scenery on the way up is gorgeous and entertaining to look at, but damn, you want to get to that peak that was teased in the advertisement of the ride. That first tease is what keeps you going on the slow incline. You know you're going to get there, but...

Okay, we're focused on getting accustomed to the seat, the people around us, how this rollercoaster feels, but... you check your watch. Are we there yet? What about that peak that was advertised? No, it's still a glacial incline. You inch upwards. It's godawful slow. You wait - and for those of us who watched when it aired during the hiatuses (which were more Disney's fault than the core team's, to my understanding) - it takes months to years.

Jesus Christ, you think. What about that tease? I want to know what's at that peak! Yes, I get tension and slow buildup, but this is taking FOREVER, and there have been no glimpses of the peak for eons. And then... suddenly, it gets more intriguing. There's a little bump. And another. And finally... there's another hint of the peak that you saw teased all the way back in the Stone Age.

Now, the ride consistently offers you little fun hills after that long, slow first incline. But seconds later BOOM! You skyrocket to that peak so fast your facial skin is flapping behind you. WOO! This is a blast! But holy hell, this is going a little fast compared to what it was like before. The last third of this ride must be MINDBLOWING, with lots of loops and spins and turns and even greater thrills, right?

And then the ride just drops almost face first to a plateau again. There are no more bumps, really. No loops. No twists. Just an almost straight, logical line back to Earth. Half the ride was pretty and made you laugh a lot despite how long it took, but the other half of the ride went so fast in comparison that it was just a blur. You're at the finish line now. Yes, it concluded like it was supposed to, but... is that it?

Rollercoaster metaphor over with, that's the pacing of Gravity Falls. For a more detailed visual example:

(Note - each episode is listed by their overall number. For example, 1 is Tourist Trapped, the peak at 31 is Not What He Seems, and the finale Weirdmageddon episodes are 38-40. Also, this is a rough, subjective view of the pacing tension, but generally... episodes that hinted or contributed to the overarching plot and tension earned higher points, and ones that added almost nothing besides comedy and character development that didn't necessarily add to the overarching plot were lower. The Weirdmageddon episodes are at a plateau since they - as finale episodes - serve to create as much tension as they do resolving it.)

Now, there are no hard and fast rules in writing, and every writer plots differently, but generally, this is the kind of pacing tension that's considered "good" (and that most common outlining techniques follow, just in different forms):

(Credit - please check out this page for a full explanation of each act.)

Generally, the trend is slow buildup. There's no plateau for eons, BOOM, then faceplant, like Gravity Falls. So that gets us to my main thesis of this post, building on what I bolded before:

Gravity Falls was too short because it's a three act story squished into a two act structure; the first season is paced like they were expecting three seasons - a season for each story act - and the second season is paced like they had to quickly fit the last two acts into one.

Why do I say this? Because there's a common writing plot point called the Midpoint / Plot Twist. So for those unfamiliar with writing techniques, let's explore what a Midpoint is:

"The Midpoint occurs at the 50% mark, halfway through the Second Act and (obviously) halfway through the book itself. Although many writers neglect the Midpoint in comparison to more noted moments such as the First Plot Point or Climax, the Midpoint is arguably the most significant beat within the story. It is what director Sam Peckinpah called the “centerpiece” of the entire story. Everything hangs upon it. In many ways, it is the moment that decides the ultimate fate of the story." "The Midpoint will feature at least one, possibly more, momentous revelations. Within the primary character arc��and thematic exploration, the protagonist will encounter a Moment of Truth that forever changes his or her view of the story’s central philosophy. This revelation, perhaps in partnership with a further external revelation about the nature of the conflict itself, will forever evolve how the protagonist approaches the conflict—on both a personal and practical level. It signals a thematic shift from Lie to Truth (or vice versa) and an external shift from ineffective “reaction” to increasingly effective “action.” (Credit).

"But PrettyinPwn!", I hear you protest. "Gideon Rises is the episode smack dab halfway through the story and seasons! And that has a big reveal. And we learn a truth about Stan."

Yes, my sweet friends. Gideon Rises - and the reveal of what Stan's hiding in the basement - is a revelation, but the way the first season is paced, in my opinion it's what writers refer to as the First Act climax or Break Into Two. The Break Into Two is:

"Main character makes a choice and to go on the journey, and our adventure begins. We leave the “Thesis” world and enter the upside-down “Anti-thesis” world of Act Two."

(Credit).

Traditionally, this Break Into Two is literally stepping into a new world. Harry Potter getting to Hogwarts. Katniss Everdeen getting to the Capitol. Yadda yadda. But in Gravity Falls, it's more subtle:

We go from the "ordinary" world of Gravity Falls in Season 1 / Act 1 (which is anything but ordinary, but you get the point) where things are bizarre but lighthearted, to the "new" world of Gravity Falls in Season 2A / Act 2 where things are bizarre and definitely not lighthearted anymore. We've started to see the dark underbelly of this strange place and family, the seriousness ramps up, and... lo and behold... a B STORY pops up right at this point in full force, just like B Stories typically do right during or after the Break Into Two point. And that B Story? Is Stan's work on the portal and his search to find Ford, which was teased in the hook, all the way back at Tourist Trapped.

So no, Gideon Rises is not the real story Midpoint. The real story Midpoint is this nerd:

Let's look at those two plotline graphs again; Gravity Falls' and the typical one you see with three act structures:

Yes. Ford's reveal / Not What He Seems should have been smack dab near halfway through the series. But it's not. It marks the 75% point instead. Technically, if we follow the idea that the Midpoint should be roughly around 50% through the story, Not What He Seems should have taken place near where Gideon Rises is in the episode roster, and Gideon Rises should have been halfway through Season 1 (roughly near Fight Fighters).

So what caused this? Oh boy, I'm getting into speculation territory, and I know Hirsch has said it was meant to be this way, but based on the pacing flaws, here's my theory:

Hirsch and team wrote Gravity Falls Season 1 assuming there'd be three seasons; a season for each act of the story. They burned out, so compacted it down to two seasons, and fit all of Act 2 and 3 of the story into Season 2. That's why, at the time the episodes aired, Season 2 was referred to in two halves: Season 2A and Season 2B. Translation? Season 2A is Act 2 and what was supposed to be Season 2 but condensed, Season 2B is Act 3 of the story and what was supposed to be Season 3 but condensed.

TL;DR: In Gravity Falls, Act 1 = 50% of the story, Act 2 = 25% of the story, Act 3 = 25% of the story. AKA poor pacing. The equivalent in, say, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, would be if Harry spent 50% of the story at the Dursley's before getting to Hogwarts.

If Gravity Falls had had three seasons total, the slow buildup in Season 1 would be totally justified, as the first act of most stories takes its time to establish the characters and world. But we instead go from slow plateau to BOOM to faceplant, instead of a slow ride up to the top that consistently raises tension with a few peaks here and there, then a fun, bumpy ride of resolving the tension on the way down.

That's why Season 1 has a little hint of the overarching plot in Tourist Trapped with the Stan vending machine tease at the end of the episode - that's known in writer's circles as the "hook" or promise of the premise - and then literally almost nothing until the end.

I will reiterate: Season 1 is written like the writers thought they had enough time to pace Act 2 and 3 out over the same amount of episodes for each Act.

All this, combined with the fact that Season 2 has some very out of place episodes concerning the tension (*cough* Roadside Attraction *cough*, and no, I don't care that it was retconned later to have made sense), well... yeah.

But this didn't just affect the pacing. It also affected the characters' writing. Wendy barely got developed, Stan and Ford's backstory AKA the B plot got squished into two episodes, the government agents as an antagonist were "defeated" too soon to try to quick switch over to Bill Cipher for Season 2B / Act 3, and the most oof-worthy part? Ford got the short end of the writing stick.

I mentioned in another post that I think Ford is a fantastically written character as a concept, but unlike Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, his good writing relies more on subtext, rushed plotlines, and external materials (Journal 3, mainly). Thematically, as the show focuses on twins, parallelisms, juxtapositions, Ford should have had just as much "let's get to know this character!" focus and time to develop to the viewer as Stan did. But no, he got... what, roughly 4-5 episodes, some of them where his story was only the B plot? Literally, let's count:

Episodes with Stan plotlines: Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel, The Inconveniencing, Dipper vs. Manliness, Irrational Treasure, Boss Mabel, Bottomless Pit, Land Before Swine, Dreamscaperers, Gideon Rises, Scaryoke, Soos and the Real Girl, Little Gift Shop of Horrors, The Love God, Not What He Seems, A Tale of Two Stans, DD&MD, The Stanchurian Candidate, Roadside Attraction, Weirdmageddon 1+3.

Episodes with Ford plotlines: A Tale of Two Stans, DD&MD, The Last Mabelcorn, Dipper and Mabel vs The Future, Weirdmageddon 1+3.

Ford feels like an afterthought. Dipper, Mabel, and Stan get 100% of the story to develop, and Ford gets less than 25%. Also factor in how Ford is the peak the viewer is waiting for, the whole mystery that keeps viewers on their toes for most of the story... and he gets ~5 episodes, and none of those are 100% focused on him.

It's like hosting a multiple course meal promising the main course - the steak - is gonna blow your mind. And then you get it 75% of the way through the meal and it's like... dime sized. It's a damn good little nerd steak, but it's so small, and we ate like three hundred Dipper and Wendy crush and Mabel crush and really well written and funny but effectively filler episode salads on the way here, including ones that weren't even canon (Bottomless Pit and Little Gift Shop of Horrors), interspersed with the occasional hint of steak with episodes like Dreamscaperers. Which would have been fine had there been an equal and increasing amount of steak, but no. To ask an age old question... WHERE'S THE BEEF?

A summary of Ford:

Worse yet, let's compare his introduction to Stan's introduction.

Stan (in Tourist Trapped): "Heya, I'm a grumpy old conman runnin' a tourist trap, and all I care about is money, but... hey, you kids want something from the Gift Shop?"

Ford (in A Tale of Two Stans): "Greetings, I just returned from sci-fi sideburn land, I'm just going to punch a character - my brother - beloved by the audience in the face after he did something very nice for me, tell my long backstory that kind of makes me look like a douche in multiple ways, plot convenience the antagonist away, then tell said beloved by the audience character / brother to get off my lawn."

No wonder why - after ATOTS aired - lots of people thought Ford was a Class A, prime US Grade, grass fed dick. And to this day, more people seem to love Stan over Ford in the fandom. We get context for his decisions later in... drumroll please... Journal 3. And subtext. Not even an episode.

We THEN understand that Ford punched Stan because of the thirty years of hell he went through, that he was just about to defeat Bill Cipher when Stan activated the portal therefore interrupting him, and Ford was upset that the Shack had made a mockery of his paranormal studies plus Stan had literally stolen his identity, completely turned his house around, and made him look like a conman... so we then have an 'OH!' moment and realize, "Hey, wait a minute, this guy has reasons for what he did. Maybe he was more justified than we thought, or at least as justified as Stan was.".

But not in the show. In a book released after. He is actually equally as well-written as Stan is, in concept. He's a great protagonist with realistic flaws and reasons. But he got a sad little salad in the writing department compared to Stan, Mabel, and Dipper's whole ten course caloric explosion buffet.

So what would have fixed this? Just like the overarching plot's pacing... another season. Season 1 + the first half of Season 2 could have been solving the mystery of Stan, and the second half of Season 2 and Season 3 could have been solving the mystery of Ford.

And that, my friends, is why Gravity Falls is too short.

Where does this leave us? Well, er... my next thought is... how would I have written Gravity Falls using the typical pacing progress?

Well, for starters, let's decide this: how many seasons do we want overall? The two options are...

A. Two seasons like it is now, but shorten each story Act.

B. Three seasons, each season is one Act of the story.

If Gravity Falls were just two seasons long in this hypothetical outline, this is what I'd do:

Take out the Dipper/Wendy love subplot. I'm sorry, we all knew while we were watching it that it would go nowhere. I remember watching it as a teen girl as the show aired and being so damn bored with it as a subplot. Especially because... as it stands, most of Wendy's purpose is as Dipper's crush. She never got her own episode.

Put Gideon Rises as Episode 10 instead of Fight Fighters. Make Not What He Seems as the Season 1 finale.

Take out a lot of the "filler" episodes in Season 1. I hate to say this, because I love a lot of the Season 1 episodes. But to pace it better, I'd say order the episodes in Season 1 like this: Tourist Trapped The Legend of the Gobblewonker The Hand That Rocks the Mabel The Time Traveler's Pig Little Dipper Boss Mabel Carpet Diem Land Before Swine Dreamscaperers Gideon Rises Scary-oke Into the Bunker The Golf War Soos and the Real Girl Sock Opera (Any of the "filler" episodes from Season 1 or 2 here) Blendin's Game Society of the Blind Eye Northwest Mansion Mystery Not What He Seems

And as for season 2:

A Tale of Two Stans Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons Then... Here we have a big gap, because we put many Season 2 episodes in Season 1. We squished all that plot into Season 1, so what do we fill episodes 3-17 of Season 2 with? I'll tell you what: More Wendy and more Ford. In this version of the outline, Dipper and Mabel are present characters in every episode, with a special focus on Stan and Soos to a smaller extent in Season 1. So to make it even, I'd make this version of Season 2 have a big focus on Ford and then Wendy to a smaller extent, mirroring how Stan and Soos are focused on in Season 1. And just like the antagonist of Season 1 - Gideon - with a little bit of the government agents, have this season have a few more episodes with the government agents and then Bill as the big final bad.

This gap here gives us ~14 episodes to develop these characters. I also think The Last Mabelcorn should be in here somewhere, so make that 13. If we parallel Season 1, then roughly... Bill should get two episodes as a main antagonist like Gideon did before his finale in Gideon Rises. Wendy should get two episodes as a deuteragonist like Soos did in Season 1.

The Bill episodes could hint more at his backstory like Journal 3 did, have him mess with Ford more and tease at Ford's "sing to me O Muse" backstory with him (because more Ford parallels with Odysseus are always welcome).

The Wendy episodes could delve into the same issues Soos' episodes did: Wendy Episode #1: Her dating issues, but instead of finding someone like Soos did, she's happily single at the end. I vote a plot where Wendy is ready to date again after the Robbie fiasco, Mabel tries to set her up with someone new, tied to a B plot with Ford where Mabel digs into his dating life, finds little to none, and then both Ford and Wendy realize at the end that it's okay to be single and not ashamed of it in a romance obsessed society (also Ford on the ace spectrum ftw, personal headcanon though). Better yet, have it have a kid friendly explanation that some people love differently; actually show that Wendy is Bisexual and Ford is - I'd argue - Ace (or straight or gay but just super bad at relationships because of pouring himself into his work and his other flaws, fear of sharing his baggage with others, etc). Not that Disney would have allowed LGBT+ at that time, because, well... Disney.

This would simultaneously make Wendy A. NOT just a crush figure tied to romance, as female characters often get relegated to, and B. help Ford parallel some insecurities about how he compares himself to Stan, just like Stan compares himself to Ford in the episodes that actually aired, especially if we keep The Stanchurian Candidate as one of the episodes but involve Ford more in it. Have Mabel pull a Jane Austen's Emma and learn to stop being a busybody matchmaker. This idea - in my opinion - is way cooler and less ethically ambiguous than The Love God.

Wendy Episode #2: Her family issues, AKA her dead mother. Make it real tearjerky with a B plot tie to how Stan or Ford never got to see their parents again after the portal accident and before their parents died, and parallel it with Wendy regretting something regarding her mother before she died. This would give us a chance to explore more about Wendy as a character, and both Filbrick / Caryn (AKA Stan and Ford's parents) as characters, as well. I would also lean more towards having her bond with Ford over Stan in this episode. Or, alternatively, you could tie this to Dipper and Mabel and their parents. Because you can't tell me that their parents did NOT have questions about what was going on after Mabel sent that letter home about her "two grunkles".

But why so many Ford with Wendy plots? Because Soos is already the Shack employee tied a lot to Stan, so to parallel, you could have Wendy bond more with Ford. At first glance, this seems like it'd be an odd duo, but Wendy probably could relate to Ford's experiences of feeling like the responsible one in the family, hiding how much they care about things under a more calm facade, the fact that Wendy's dad built the Shack for Ford, maybe add Wendy having an underlying interest in science or the paranormal that she deadens down to fit in that Ford finds out about and tries to encourage her to not hide anymore to tie in with his theme of "it's okay to be weird". You could do a million things with Ford and Wendy subplots.

So that leaves us with a total of nine other episodes to devote to Ford here in this season space. I mean, picture it... in my original counts of how many episodes Stan vs. Ford got in the real version of the show that aired, Stan had around 23 episodes that featured him.

In this version of the outline, Stan would get 14-15 episodes featuring him. Ford would get 14 episodes featuring him. CHEF'S KISS; EQUAL TREATMENT BY THE WRITING. But what would these episodes be about?

A. More bonding and arc between Dipper and Ford. Dipper would go from "notice me Ford senpai / hyperventilating" to "holy crap the Author is as awesome as I thought he'd be!" to "wait a minute, this guy's got some flaws" to "maybe this isn't who I want to become?" to make Dipper's rejection of the apprenticeship feel more natural and take the blame heat off of Mabel (as the fandom's been eager to place).

If Dipper's reasoning for rejecting the apprenticeship was not just "Mabel needs me" but a combination of "Mabel needs me, Stan needs Ford more than I do, Mabel was right and I don't need the Journals / the Author / Ford to be a hero, and I don't want to become Ford", it'd make a lot more sense. Because thematically, the plot of Gravity Falls resolves BECAUSE Dipper and Mabel don't become Ford and Stan; they avoid the mistakes they made, and in doing so, heal the literal and metaphorical rift. And it also makes more sense for Dipper's character arc, which was always about self-confidence.

That, and I think it'd have been great for Dipper to have had a trust - distrust - trust again arc with Ford like he did with Stan. "Oh, Ford's so cool" to "Ford lied to me about Bill!" to "Ford is flawed, but he's still the great uncle I love now". Put a Dark Night of the Soul in there, where Dipper literally 'Trusts No One!'. Not even Ford. Have him teeter on the precipice of going down Ford's dark path, but Mabel saves him from fully falling into it. And have Ford have a Dark Night of the Soul, where now even Dipper doesn't trust or like him, and so Ford feels totally outcasted by his family like Stan felt years ago.

B. Slower plot twist revelations about Ford's past with Bill Cipher. Start him out reluctant to talk about it, especially in front of Dipper, who views him as a hero that Ford so desperately wants to be. Explore some of his trauma, what his choices have cost him, etc. Hell, I'm pretty sure Ford's got some form of PTSD, so throw a plotline in there about Ford isolating a lot because of it. Of course, since kids are a primary audience of the show, you can't get too dark, but you can't tell me Ford didn't experience some messed up stuff on the other side of the portal.

C. Goddamn, take some of Ford's multiverse explorations from Journal 3 and make them actual episodes. What a wasted opportunity in the show. And it better have Jheselbraum in it, or I riot.

D. More Ford bonding with Mabel. Please, for the love of God, I know Dipper and Ford are nerdtopia buddies, but Ford and Mabel would get along so well. They're both weirdos at heart, sweater twins, the older twins, and love the odd and the artistic. Make a B plot with Stan and Dipper bonding, maybe even after Dipper's loss of respect for Ford, and have Dipper "side" with Stan while Mabel starts to "side" with Ford more, almost getting lost in Stan and Ford's rift themselves. Because goddammit, we're riding this juxtaposition and parallelism and thematic train into the Sun!

E. GIVE FORD MORE MOMENTS TO LOOK LIKE A CARING, SWEET GRUNKLE. Stan got a truckload of chances to shine and for the twins to bond with him. Can... can Ford have the same thing? Please? Here, elevator pitch: Ford being forced to put science away to watch the twins for a day because Stan's busy, he reluctantly agrees, and by the end he's just as much of a softie for them as Stan is. Or have Dipper and Mabel get in trouble, Stan and Ford have to work together to save them; have them sabotage each other, trying to look like the better Grunkle, but then pulling their heads out of their asses and working together reluctantly and realizing they actually have fun on adventures like they used to (which would foreshadow their choice to go on Stan-O-War II adventures later).

F. By God, I don't care if Gideon's already in jail by this point, plot-wise. This boy spent episodes chasing the Author's journals. I need to see the look on his face when he realizes the Author is his arch-nemeses' twin brother / great uncle. Please. Have him start a rivalry with Ford that goes as horribly as you'd expect because Ford would use 30 years of multiverse experience to punt this kid into the next dimension for multiple reasons, one of them being having summoned Bill Cipher, another being having used his journal for nefarious purposes.

G. Don't make the government agents go away so easily. Foreshadow Stan's return of memory in Weirdmageddon 3 with the agents remembering what happened before the memory gun wipe in Not What He Seems, not only to utilize them better as antagonists, but to increase the stakes, and also to make Stan's memories returning later seem more plausible. Have Ford play a part in getting rid of them as a threat.

Or have them switch from antagonists to allies once they realize Bill Cipher is the real threat, but have them fail to neutralize Bill to make him seem that much more insurmountable and the Pines' defeat of him that much more of a feat. To wrap up them as an obstacle, just have them thank the Pines at the end and then have them put forth the whole "Never Mind All That" act and keep the stories of the weirdness contained to Gravity Falls. Have them try to lock Stan and Ford up still, though, but realize that they're gone on the Stan-O-War II trip (which, if that story's ever made into a show, they could serve as continued antagonists chasing after the Stans).

H. More Pacifica. Make her redemption more believable. Give her another subplot in Season 2, maybe following the plotline she had in the Lost Legends comic side story with Dipper. In fact, give her a B plot episode storyline with Ford; have them bond over having had to be perfect golden children with a parent(s) that care way too much about money, and it gives Dipper and Mabel more context and understanding about Ford's struggles. There. It writes itself.

I. More McGucket. I want to see Ford angst more about what happened between them. Then, finally, after all these episodes with The Last Mabelcorn somewhere amongst them... Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future Weirdmageddon 1 Weirdmageddon 2 Weirdmageddon 3

And ta-da! You'd have a version of Gravity Falls with two seasons with more fair attention to Wendy and Ford, more evenly paced tension and plot twists, and an antagonist cycle that goes from town enemy to world enemy to multidimensional enemy. ~

As for a three season version of this outline, keep Season 1 completely as is, make Not What He Seems episode 10 of Season 2, and... this is a bold suggestion, but turn the Season 2 finale into Dipper and Mabel vs The Future and make the Weirdmageddon episodes into a whole season. Make the failure to stop the rift really hurt, and use the whole of Season 3 to have the Pines figure out how to stop the end of the world. Use some of it to rebuild the portal, explore some of the Multiverse to find a solution, have them try to find Jheselbraum to help discover more about Bill and his weaknesses and his previous attempts on Earth to break reality (like Modoc's story in Journal 3, in fact, have an episode where they time travel back to Modoc which would give him inspiration to have drawn the prophecy wheel on the cave wall that Ford found hundreds of years later), gather the whole gang and build the Shacktron, have it fail and have to use the prophecy wheel... But wait, it fails, too, and Bill scatters everyone involved across the Multiverse instead of making them into banners - while also destroying the portal - to buy himself some time to get Ford to give up the solution to breaking free from Gravity Falls. Explore the Multiverse more to gather everyone again, use each episode to devote yet more time to developing each character, parallel Ford's journey in the Multiverse for 30 years. Maybe even have a bit of a subplot where Ford breaks from Bill and tries to rebuild the portal to get everyone back, paralleling Stan's struggle to get him back for 30 years.

Learn more about who Ford was those thirty years he was gone. Use the Multiverse episodes to make Stan sympathize more with what Ford went through for thirty years. Have Jheselbraum reference the whole "you have the face of the one who will destroy Bill" to Stan instead of Ford like she did in the past, and have Stan be confused at first, thinking Ford will be the hero again. Dark Night of the Soul up in this season, man, and make the prophecy wheel fail again, and Stan realize yep, time to brain zap, Jheselbraum was right, but HE'S the one that has to stop Bill, not Ford. And THEN try Stan's conman trick to trap Bill in his mind.

And that's how I'd rewrite Gravity Falls as three seasons.

I'll say this: after all that criticism I just laid out, you might think I hate Gravity Falls as it is now. No. I love this show. It won't leave my brainspace and lives there rent-free, like Bill does in Stan's mind. And I will say, I understand 100% why it was written the way it was. They seemed to have had a plan in Season 1, switched gears between seasons, and tried to wrap up two seasons of plot in one season for Season 2.

And they did it with little to no flaws in terms of the overarching plot. They told the story they wanted to. They pulled a Stan and took some shortcuts, but had good intentions and got the job done. And the show is still like... an A- to solid A grade show even with these flaws.

But it could have been nearly flawless and A++ had they either planned for two seasons from the start, or powered through the burnout to make three whole seasons (which is easy for me to say, as someone that didn't have to live through what must have been hair graying levels of stress).

All in all, I'm curious to hear others' thoughts on my critique, or if anyone would like to add more about what they'd put in this hypothetical Season 2 or 3. Or if you'd prefer the two seasons still as they are, or as I hypothetically rewrote them, or as the three seasons idea I explained above. Or if you think I'm just crazy, and that Gravity Falls is perfect as is.

#gravity falls #I either expect lots of agreement or lots of hate #oh well the same happened with the Stan twin theory back in the day I'm well accustomed to fandom love and fandom hate lol #ford pines #gravity falls analysis #I know I post like once every three eons but I'm serious this show lives rent free in my head #hirsch and crew if you ever read this - which I doubt but ya never know - just know that you're the best and mean no hate by this post

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xythlia · 2 years

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𝘉𝘌 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘛𝘖 𝘔𝘌, 𝘉𝘈𝘉𝘠 𝘍𝘛. 𝘓𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕

- ̗̀໒ WARNINGS : TW FOR INSECURITY READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. f!reader, angsty in the beginning, loss of virginity, teasing, nipple play, begging, fingering, oral, mating press, creampie, squirting

- ̗̀໒ WORD COUNT : 2k

req: can we get a insecure virgin reader + levi plz? if ur comfy with it can it go into feel better smut? I've read all your fics on ao3 and I'm obsessed I need more of your writings! xx

Your tears make him feel sick to his stomach.

It breaks his heart, seeing the glimmering saltwater welling and spilling down your cheeks in damp tracks. Your lip wobbles as you sniffle while your hands shakily grasp his forearms, further widening the canyon opening in his gut.

"Why are you upset?" His voice is soft, trying his best to be soothing and not spook you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel like he's coming towards you confrontationally.

"I feel," you hiccup, "I feel like you just don't like me- like that." The way your words dissolve into more tears.

It's a helpless feeling, not knowing why you feel this way or what to do about it. He knows he has a tendency to get lost in something, tunnel vision on whatever new release is happening or whatever game he's immersed in, but to know he made you feel so unimportant in the process? He thought you could see through all that, but maybe he'd just assumed rather than ever have a conversation about it.

His mind is racing, tripping over itself as his own hands shake. How long were you carrying this feeling? He felt like a fool, he was a fool; shamelessly failing you.

Yet, he's doing it again, staying silent for far too long and falling inside himself, leaving you to crumple against your mattress. You push him away as he attempts to hold onto you, console you. Instead wailing, "Am I not what you wanted?"

You feel stupid, humiliated, just wanting the earth to open underfoot and swallow you into it's depths. Anything to get away from this feeling. You were human, and he's been surrounded by the most beautiful inhuman beings for eons how could you believe you could compare?

Softly he places a hand to your back, fingers stroking up and down your spine in a deliberately comforting manner. "I... You're everything I wanted. I want you all the time, always, I want to be with you every second of every day. I feel real jealousy towards the people who are with you in moments that I'm not," you hear the hitch in his voice, "I think you're the best thing that's been in my life."

His face is aflame by the time you turn around, no longer feeling the need to hide so urgently. Not when he's just made himself, finally, vulnerable to you. "Do you really mean that?"

He swallows thickly, but his eyes never stray from yours and his hand comes to tightly lace your fingers together against the mattress.

"I really do. I just... You know how sometimes when things feel like they're going really well, say a sunny day happened- you don't bother to check the weather," his voice becomes smaller as he squeezes your hand, "but when the sun's out at midnight, you should be checking. I should've checked on you. Should've been less selfish all the time. I'm sorry-"

His words are cut off in a low groan of surprise as you throw yourself against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his skin. "I love you, it's not all on you. I should've- I should've said something, even just once."

His arms come firmly around you as you continue, "I just... I just want you to love me, too."

"I do love you," he murmurs against the side of your head, pressing his lips there just for that moment of closeness.

"Why haven't you shown me?"

That gives him pause. "What do you mean?"

It almost stumps him, truly. He makes sure to kiss you, always be there with you when he can, helps you with anything you need-

"You never try, you know, touching me," your voice is suddenly shy. "Haven't you wanted to?"

His breathing almost stops as you grasp his wrist tenderly, clearly giving him the space to pull away and say no if he wishes, but he doesn't. Instead watching with bated breath as it disappears beneath your shirt, feeling your warm skin under his fingertips.

Even when you draw your hand away, his remains, gingerly moving upward over your belly before stopping, letting the curve of his thumb and index rest beneath the swell of your bare breast.

You hum in approval, gently tugging him down as you let yourself fall back against the bedspread and pull him into a heated kiss, full of sudden desperation.

You nip at his bottom lip while he draws his hand back down, only to tug on the hem of your tshirt, prompting you to prop up on your elbows as your chest is exposed to the evening chill. When his lips wrap around one of your hardened nipples your head tips back with a groan, enjoying the feel of his tongue sliding over the bud.

Quickly you become restless, whining and moving your legs in an attempt to accommodate your fastly dampening underwear. You can feel the nerves standing on end, making you squirm even more and cueing Levi to slide his other hand down past the waist of your pajama pants.

The tips of his fingers rest just before he'd reach your slick folds, making your clit pulse in anticipation. You're trembling, trying to gasp out how badly you just need him to touch you or you might go insane.

It could've been hours with how much he was teasing you, coming up to slide his tongue between your lips and dipping back down to alternate attention between your breasts. That hand, however, remained still inside your panties.

You rutted your hips brazenly, not caring for anything but relief now, but he evades it. Always managing to move his hand ever so slightly so as to not touch you. The pressure was reaching its boiling point, your clit ached so fiercely it left you with fresh tears gathering in your waterline.

Finally as your eyes meet, his fingers slide through your slick folds and you nearly sob at the sensation. The sticky noises as he slides two fingers inside you, prodding your warm walls, and keeping steady pressure on your clit with his thumb makes you feel lightheaded. Still, you don't look away from him.

He's drinking in every expression like a fine wine: your pupils blown out and glassy, lips moving in moans and whimpers, the flex of your neck muscles wishing to tip back.

The feeling in your gut is akin to a spring loaded coil, just reeling and reeling further back with every swipe of his thumb over your clit and every curl of his fingers. The sheer intensity of the environment between you two makes that coil suddenly snap, causing you to break eye contact and wail in ecstasy.

Your thighs shake and your hands come to claw at his back furiously, mind going numb as you feel your bottoms growing wetter the more you writhe in the pleasure high.

As your orgasm slowly dissolves, rose colored world coming into focus when you open your eyes, your legs still tremble with aftershocks as his hand pulls out of your bottoms. You're floating, delightfully boneless as he leans back and tugs them down your legs.

His mouth waters at the glossy mess between your legs, watching the way you throb around nothing. All thought ceases when he shimmies down on his stomach between your legs, warm breath on your thighs sending a shiver down your spine.

His tongue slowly rolls from his lips while you're stuck still, eyes unable to look away, before licking a fat stripe up your messy cunt. He holds your folds open before going back in, tongue prodding your entrance and making your eyes roll back in your head.

He's a panting, moaning mess as he devours you and there's nowhere else he'd rather be than between your legs. Lithe fingers brush against your clit once more, relishing in the way it makes you squeal from above. He presses his tongue flat against it, feeling overjoyed at the way it tears an even bigger reaction from your body.

Something shifts, he wants, no needs, all of you right now or he feels like he may very well die. That thought is what has him shooting up, tugging his pants off and letting his throbbing cock smack against his abdomen as it springs from his underwear. Quickly he shuffles back between your legs, sliding his cock in between your sloppy folds.

You reach down to hold your legs open, mind switched off and only chasing the base instinct for complete intimacy with him. Slowly he presses forward, rocking his hips slowly before his cock fully nudges inside you. Your legs spasm as it does, fighting against the overstimulation as you gasp out but don't call for him to stop. Slowly he slides inside you until your hips are flush, once again watching your expressions. You look like the picture of bliss, chest heaving with full breaths and adjusting to the new sensation of being full.

It nearly renders him shocked as you cup your breasts, kneading your flesh and your hips grind up so that you're using him.

He lets you, holding your hips for support because honestly it's the hottest thing he's ever witnessed. You getting yourself off with his cock, like it was a toy, sets his head spinning. Your moans rise and rise as your pace becomes messy, frantic. Your back arches and your pussy clenched around him so firmly it makes him draw in a sharp inhale. It's beyond beautiful, watching you completely lose yourself and fall apart on his cock.

In your pleasure chasing daze you stop holding your legs up, letting them fall sharply and he eagerly chases after you, folding your legs up and pounding into your hungry cunt while one of your hands fists in his hair. He's never had the privilege to feel something this incredible, hearing you chant his name like a mantra and the sound of skin slapping in some perverse harmony.

He's clenching his jaw, unable to take his eyes off you as he feels you clamp down once more. It's only slightly jolting to feel liquid spray his abdomen but it doesn't make him slow down, if anything it only encourages his thrusts to become deeper and messier before slowing. Relaxing into the feeling of your pussy and his cock throbbing in time while he fills you to the brim with warm, opaque fluid.

He's certain you could never doubt his devotion again after tonight, and he'll make sure to see you fall apart and to fill you up again and again from here on. It's a promise on repeat in his mind as you both slow, coming to lay still against one another as you catch your collective breath.

Gently you release your grip on his hair, fingers lazily sliding through the strands instead as he presses his ear over your heart, just enjoying the afterglow especially with such an intense series of events tonight.

"I love you," he whispers into your skin, arms sliding beneath you as he relaxes further against your body.

#obey me smut #leviathan smut #obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me x female reader #om! leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me leviathan #obey me imagine #obey me shall we date #om smut #x reader #꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ kita writes

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itjazzbicch · 10 months

Text

Things That Never Change

Pairing: Lui Kang x Titan!Reader

First time writing for Lui Kang, so I hope I did well!

Summary: Falling in love long before their timeline was ripped after defeating Kronika, the reader, who became a Titan, still gets to spend time with their beloved Lui Kang but wishes things could be different so Lui Kang reassures that their love has never changed and that someday, they will have a true, happy ending...

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 0.6k

Living for Eons and eons, I had seen everything there was to see, but nothing could compare to the night sky I was staring at. A Milky Way illuminated from a dark purple on one side to a bright blue, then back to purple. Stars soaring and dancing in the sky were such a beautiful sight.

What made it so unique? Lui Kangs' hand in mine, the smile I cherished on his face, his bright eyes locked into mine. We didn't need many words. Considering we were both Titans, we didn't have much time together.

This is where we would meet to have some time to ourselves and get away from our duties in our timelines for a while. Each time we came here, it seemed like our time grew shorter and shorter. I knew that soon we'd have to go.

I held his hand in my lap, catching his attention as he felt a water droplet fall and seep into his skin. It was a tear.

"Dear," Leaning to look into my eyes, he grew concerned, wiping away the tears that rolled down my cheek, "What's the matter?"

"Can we stay here forever?" I knew as a Titan that may have sounded childish and selfish even, as I had such significant duties, but my heart wanted what it wanted, and that was to be with Lui Kang. Always.

As he stayed silent for a moment, the tears wouldn't stop leaking out, squeezing his hand tight and expressing:

"I never want to leave your side. We lived for eons before we reunited. I felt so alone without you. I always feel that way when you're gone."

"I know how you feel," He cooed softly, guiding me into his arms for a warm hug that I needed, rubbing my back softly and relating to me, "Every second we're apart, I miss you."

"I just love you so much-," I professed, my voice cracking and breaking into a whisper, hugging him tighter, "I love you, Lui Kang."

"I love you too," He whispered, stroking my chin and guiding my eyes up at him. He looked like a work of art with the gorgeous stars behind him, believing his every word, "One day, we will always be together. I know that it has been so long, but be patient for just a while longer."

Nodding and taking a deep breath, I knew he was right. Patience was the only thing I had to overcome, and considering how long I've lived, that battle with patience wasn't as bad as it seemed.

"I know that I'm now a Titan," I whispered, feeling like it was the first time we met, "But I'm still the same young lady who fell for the chosen one."

"I haven't changed either," He assured, caressing my cheek, "My love for you hasn't changed, and regardless of how long we live, what we live through, that will never change."

Words weren't enough to explain how deep our love was; I perked my head up to find his lips, feeling complete as they met, magnetizing back together even if they parted for a second, wishing we could stay like this forever.

I lost track of time, solely focused on the softness of his lips kissing mine, the amount of powerful love we poured into each other. My lips broke apart with tears swelling up again as I knew it was time for us to go.

"Don't stress yourself, Y/N," He consoled, holding my face and smiling contagiously, "We'll have plenty more moments together and, eventually, everything we could ever dream of."

I smiled back, kissing him one more time, content and confident in his words, "I'll never doubt it, Lui Kang,"

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achelouise · 6 months

Text

Together, forevermore

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Pairing: (Yan?)Blade x fem!reader

Warnings: Pretty dark, (at least its the most dark thing I've written so far DONT JUDGe me), blade is not nice here, non-con but no sex

Summary: Someone visits you on your deathbed.

A/N: ...... i may be on a slight toxic writing streak......... I WILL BRING SOMETHING ELSE FLUFF ENJOYERS I PROMISE

imma be honest i dont know if this is considered as yandere but i will tag it as such just in case

Your bones are weary. Wrinkles are prominent on your face, and your hair has completely faded to white.

You savor it all. The way time robs you of your youth, the way you bend to its will, morph yourself into a fragile being that couldn’t continue her adventure on the Express. The way you laugh when you spill a cup, when eons ago you would charge towards the enemy with your spear in hand.

You were satisfied with yourself. You have lived, breathed, and entertained yourself before the curtain fell. You have made friends, enemies, lovers, and experienced the joy and suffering of life. The galaxy is your sky, and the worlds you travel to is your home.

Well- perhaps just one lover. It felt like many, though. You could never forget him, but he is just a hazy memory in your old brain.

To think, a former Cloud Knight soldier would live and breathe without mara- truly, a wonderful end to a blazing life like yours.Granted, you weren’t from the Xianzhou- but to be on the battlefield is to sign up a guaranteed death by Abudance.

Even as the Crew parts, their memories and cherished ambitions lay dormant in your heart- beating weakly, slowly, and closer to eternal rest.

You loved this life, and you hated to see it go. Perhaps this is the wisdom Jingliu was desperate for- to understand mortality, and to understand an end to a life well spent.

You feel your fear of death grasping your chest as you heave, drinking in every breath. Unparalleled joy also envelops you; ah, the precious catalyst life holds for this body. Even as you have withered away, this body still yearns for a little bit of life, still squeezes every last drop, a complete opposite of the mara-stricken soldiers tethering between sanity and mania.

Beautiful. How beautiful this life could be.

You could only wish for the others to feel the same. You hope March understands the beauty of fragile mortality, and Dan Heng’s rest during his rebirth.

Even then, human will never dies. You and the trailblazer have entrusted yours to the Cosmodyssey, greeting the future generation of trailblazers from the distant past. Only this way, would you be immortalized, encapsulated in a beautiful dream.

A soft creak of the door alerts you. You smile, even as you struggle to inhale enough air to speak. “... Can’t you leave an old lady… to her death bed?”

Your voice is grating and unpleasant, but you cherish it all the same.

The visitor doesn’t speak. They walk in slowly, carrying a glass of water. At least, it looks like it- oh, you can’t blame yourself for not recognizing anything with such poor eyesight.

Probably one of the nurses that are hell bent on keeping you alive. You don’t really like them, you never have. Ever since you resigned yourself to an elderly shelter on your home planet, where you could meet even more friends before your end, the nurses have been instructed to keep you alive for as long as possible. Probably because if you do, you can attend more interviews, review more biographies about you and the Legends of Akivilli.

You can’t muster up the strength to retort any more, though. The nurse doesn’t really speak, either. They have a comically large mask on, one that shields their whole face, with only eyes piercing back. You don’t recognize them. Eugh, poor eyesight.

The monitor begins to beat feverishly. You are quite parched, though. No harm in quenching your thirst one last time before you kick the bucket.

As you reach for the glass, memories flash before your eyes. Your mother cradling you, your father holding you tight, your celebration with your friends as you pass your finals, your first arrival on the Xianzhou, your first kiss, your promise for a future with him, your losses, your despair, your fears-

And-

The Express. Your true home, the fondation which you rediscovered yourself and rebuilt yourself on. A place where you will never part, not even in death.

The warmth you felt for it, and the warmth it returned to you will never be forgotten.

You heave as you gulp down the drink. “Thank… you.”

You close your eyes.

Farewell, everyone.

You feel so light. You can properly feel your hands again. The backache is gone, stripped away, and you marvel at the skin that seems to reweave itself- granting you your youth, your past, prime shape. So the afterlife is merciful, after all.

You open your eyes. The birds near the windowsill are still chirping. Nothing has changed.

Wait.

What?

You feel your body reconstructing itself, your bones rearranging and your senses returning. Your eyes grow sharp and your face feels soft. The scars on your arms grow rapidly smaller, and smaller, until they are gone before you can blink. Uneasiness crawls in your chest.

And all the while, strange, delicate branches curl around your limbs, a soft green glow imitating the blessing of-

No. No no no no no no no no no.

No.

NO.

You find your strength to speak properly again. Your voice is lighter, easier to speak with, a voice or a bygone past, and it only nausates you as you grip your blanket. “What did you do?”

You turn to look at the nurse properly, as they finally start to make a sound- a soft, unsettling chuckle, one hand removing their mask.

The cruel smirk dances on Blade’s lips as he gestures to the glass cup in your hand.

Only now do you see the Emenator of Abundances’ blood swimming in the clear water you were so desperate for, only moments ago. You feel light-headed. You feel sick to the core.

You drop the cup, and it shatters on the floor- your skin feels cold, and your brain is spinning. You’re hyper-aware of how the liquid seeping out still flashes with the curse of Abundance, how the birds are screeching, and how Blade is cackling.

You heave, your breaths growing shorter by the moment. You watch as Blade reaches for your face- and if you flinch, he pretends to not notice.

No. You were close. You were so close.

“Why?” you cry, the first tears finally dripping down your cheeks. Blade’s bandaged hands wipe them away, and his dry lips press on them- as if savoring them.

“Did you honestly think you could escape me?” Blade reprimands softly, his empty eyes shining with disgusting, sickening adoration. “You promised you would stay, for as long as you could, for me.”

“You disgusting, wretched beast.” You lament, curling in further of yourself. The effects of the mara have started to settle; your muscles pound hard with fresh life breathed into your body, your bones gritting far worse than when you were of old age, and your mind starting to delude your sight. “I had forgotten you. I had lived, unlike you.”

“Promises are not to be broken.” Blade responds coldly, gripping your chin with sheer strength. You cry out as your skull cracks, only for it to mend itself, in perfect shape, the phantom pain lingering on your jaw. “I watched you blaze a trail for yourself. To me, your life was only moments worth of mine.”

“I married. I had children. They will remember me wedded to someone else.” you seethe.

Blade only chuckles mirthlessly at that. “Your attempts at deceiving me are truly pitiful. I know I was your first and last lover. I watched you fall apart in my absence. I watched your success. I watched how you withered away, and I envied you so, so much. Why couldn’t I feel that happy? Why couldn’t I feel that free?”

His hand ghosts over your neck, a silent warning if you dared to cry for help. Not that you would- you knew exactly what bringing his wrath would entail. Breaking your neck over, and over, and over again, to feel the pleasure of death like his master brought for him.

“I watched you pave a way for yourself. I hated you. I loved you. I don’t know how I feel anymore. Kafka has numbed everything away. But I chose to hold onto these feelings. Only you could give rise to new emotions after my rebirth. And you will be my partner. Together, we will be betrayers of death.”

You shake your head, and you wish so badly that all of this was a figment of your imagination. But it is real. You’ve seen enough soldiers fall prey to mara. You might have only succumbed to a dilated version, but it still tears away at your soul.

“Your playtime is over. Death will never reach you. Not even Nihility can bring you the peace you need. So stay with me.” He leans over, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. Your head pounds. Shapes and colors blend into a mess. Only Blade sits before you.

“Not that you have a choice.” He nips the bud of your ear, his voice soft and stifling. The stench of blood and rain clings onto his skin, and you succumb to the despair that fills your heart. “You will join the Stellaron Hunters. Kafka will help you, as she did with me.”

He leans back, and he smiles, deranged and devoid of sanity, living in his own world of pure delusion.

Sometimes, when you were dating, you wondered what he was before he was Blade. Would he still date you?

And even now, as he seals his promise with a kiss, you think. Would he condone any of this? How would he feel, knowing he has turned into a monster?

You close your eyes. You envision your friends and comrades, who all bear no burdens of eroding immortality, an apology on your tongue.

I’m sorry. I failed you all.

“Together, forevermore.”

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade x you #yan!blade #yandere #hsr x reader #hsr x female reader #blade x female reader

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years

Note

bestie could you write a blurb with virgin reader and H? something soft please

Hello, friend! Siiiii! Oui! Of course! here it is. It's more of a one shot, but it's very romantic and soft and sweet! I hope you like it:)

(the pic has nothing to do with the story, he just looks so cute and cozy here ☺️)

Y/N had never planned to still be a virgin well into her twenties. She had dated and fooled around with a few people before and had come close to actually having sex but she would just get so nervous when it came down to actually doing it. She also figured that when she found the right person for her she wouldn't feel so anxious and stressed about actually having sex with them and this seemed to be the absolute truth. Now she was with Harry and they'd been together for a little over three months and he was incredible and genuine and one of the best people she had ever dated. He had worked so hard on himself and it was noticeable and that made it so easy for her to start to fall for him. She hadn't even been thinking about it too hard, she just one day accepted that she would want him to be her first. The realization came naturally and without any external persuasions, he was always so respectful when it came to their sexual lives.

The only thing she was nervous about was telling him this because she hadn't explicitly told him that she was a virgin, she wasn't fully inexperienced so maybe he thought she wasn't, but now that she was thinking about having sex with him she needed to be honest about it. He knew that she wanted to take it slow, but that was all she had told him. In her mind, withholding the truth was a form of lying and she was nervous that he would be upset with her for not telling him sooner or something. A lot of her concerns were born from what past partners had put her through when she would share this with them and she would constantly talk herself through the fact that Harry was not any of those people. He was a completely different person and he had proven to be an excellent partner and he would understand. He always did. She had to tell him...

"Baby?" Harry's voice broke her out of her thoughts and she focused on his face in the dim light of his bedroom, "You seem distracted. You seem to be far off somewhere." he said and she sighed and swallowed down the lump in her throat, "Baby, we don't have to do anything if you're not in the mood for it." he reassured her as he rolled off of her and onto his side. He removed his hand from her inner thighs and instead draped his strong arm over her waist and pulled her to lay on her side too, facing him. Her eyes met his own and she sighed, "What is it, angel?" he asked with a slight frown and she sucked her bottom lip for a second before deciding to speak.

"I have to tell you something." she said and he hummed, giving her his undivided attention. His eyes bore into her own intensely and it made her nervous but she inhaled deeply before proceeding, "I've wanted to tell you this before, I just got a little nervous about it." she explained and he nodded, "I'm uh...I'm still a...virgin." she spoke the word so quietly as if she were giving him bad news at the doctor's office or something. She felt like his silence lasted for eons when in reality it was probably a second or two at the most. When his lips quirked up in a smile she got this horrible feeling in her chest, someone had made fun of her for this before and she was getting ready for it now.

"Why are you saying it like that?" he asked and she frowned in confusion.

"Like what?"

"Like it's a bad thing? I don't know." he said.

"Because I didn't tell you from the start? I thought you might get upset that I wasn't upfront about it." she explained with a small pout and he leaned in and kissed it right off her lips.

"Baby, no. You don't owe me explanations and I'm not upset with you." he reassured her and she looked relieved, "But now I want to ask you something and I want you to be 100% transparent with me." he said and she nodded, "Swear?"

"I swear." she repeated and he nodded.

"Are you telling me this now because you feel like I'm pressuring you in some way? Or maybe pushing the boundary a little bit?" he asked with concern drenching his expression now and she shook her head immediately.

"No, baby! Not in the slightest. You've been so respectful and conscious about how we do things and just every part of our sexual relationship and umm... I actually wanted to tell you now because I..." she trailed off, "I want to do it w-with you." her voice was so small and meek as she confessed this to Harry.

"Me? A-are you sure?" he asked, perplexed and she giggled.

"Yeah, I'm positive." she nodded, "I've always told myself that when I was ready for my first time I wouldn't feel too concerned and nervous about it. That person would make me feel comfortable and safe and cared for instead of anxious about it. I shouldn't have to debate it or talk myself into it, you know? It should feel natural and easy and...right, I guess." she said and he smiled at her, it was such a soft and gentle smile.

"Oh." was all he said and for some reason he was the one blushing like mad.

"Yeah." she responded timidly and broke eye contact with him for a second before glancing back into his eyes and he still hadn't said anything else, "If you don't want t-"

"It's not that! I want to. Believe me! I have thought about it so many times." he said quickly, almost too eagerly and she giggled as he went all pink in the face again as he admitted this, "I'm just really happy that you feel that way with me and it's like..." he stopped for a moment as he thought his words through, "I just felt what you said really deeply." he finished and she smiled, "I feel that way with you too." he smiled as he said these words to her and she leaned in and kissed him slowly.

Their kiss got deeper and more intense and her body was yearning to be near him, to get closer, to feel more, to just be taken over by him. She hadn't wanted anyone like this before, this feeling of need was new to her. It wasn't just a sexual need, it was an emotional and intimate need. She wanted him so badly that she felt like she was burning from the inside out, she had never felt anything so overwhelming before.

Despite her recent confession to him, Harry still hadn't made any move to take things further than kissing while having his thigh between her legs as she ground down against him. Every now and again she would kind of brush up against his raging hard erection and it would make him tense up a bit. He could feel himself throbbing, but he didn't want to assume anything just because she said she wanted him to be her first. But then she reached into his hair, tugging it gently as their lips parted sloppily.

"Please, baby." she keened and he looked into her eyes.

"You want to do it today? Like ri-right now?" he asked her and she nodded, they were so close that their noses nudged as she nodded her confirmation, "But I didn't even do anything nice for you or-"

"I don't care about that." she said and he chuckled, "I've only been waiting 20 plus years to see what all the fuss is about." she giggled and he laughed along wit her.

"Well, I'll try my best to make it worth your while." he grinned and she hummed.

"It'll be perfect because it's with you. It’s us." she said with a meek smile and that made his heart skip a beat. He had a lot of feelings for her and they had built quickly. Y/N appreciated him for who he was at his core and things just felt so easy and right with her, much like she had described. He smiled as he looked into her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s us.” He hummed and she smiled back at him. “Gonna start by making you feel good. Get you really turned on and wet fo’me.” He said and she smiled.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that.” She grinned mischievously and he chuckled, his dimples carved deep into his cheeks.

“Is that so?” He questioned and she nodded, “Can I feel?”

“Yeah, please." she verbalized her eagerness and he kissed her deeply before shifting his position to kneel between her legs.

His big, warm hands smoothed up her thighs and when he reached her hips his thumbs rubbed up and down soothingly before he glanced up into her eyes again.

“Gonna take these off.” He said and she nodded. He lifted her top up a bit to reveal the band of her sweatpants and leaned down to her stomach, his warm lips smooched kisses to the top of her sweat pants as his fingers dipped into the sides of the waistband and started to tug them down. His lips followed behind on every new piece of skin that was exposed up until he reached her underwear.

If there was something that Y/N was not used to yet was his adoration for going down on her. The first time he did it she came within two minutes and he didn’t stop until she had come at least three times. She had never experienced anything like it, if she’d let him that’s all he would do, he’d said it to her countless times, he just liked it so much. And as he kissed over the top part of her panties she was preparing herself for what she was soon to come. He stopped though and then kissed each of her bare thighs as he continued removing her sweats. Then each of her knees and then he just removed the pants from the rest of her legs and tossed them to the side as he lowered himself onto his stomach and she spread her legs wider for him and he moaned as he kissed over her clothed pussy. His lips could already feel her arousal slightly seeping through the fabric of her underwear and as he reared back a bit he could see the damp spot more now that he had pressed the fabric closer when he kissed her. He glanced up to see her propped up on her elbows, she watched him with bated breath and he bit his lip as he brushed his thumb over where her clit was and he watched her legs tense up and her jaw drop open slightly. He added more pressure and she let out a puff of air through her mouth before she swallowed hard.

“You’re so wet for me, angel.” He hummed and she nodded, “Doesn’t take much, does it?” He teased lightly but she shook her head.

“Not with you.” She said and that certainly gave him the confidence to nuzzle his mouth and nose against her. Her fists tightened up into her bed covers in anticipation of his next move. His blunt nails raked down her inner thighs, the action covered her body in goosebumps and he smiled.

“So fucking perfect.” He hummed against her and she moaned quietly. She was so sensitive and the vibrations of his voice made a chill travel through her body.

“Baby, please.” She pleaded and he smiled and nodded. His index fingers looped into her underwear and she lifted her hips to allow him to tug them down her legs. He raised her legs off to the side to completely get them off of her. Once they were off he immediately parted her legs again and latched onto her pussy. "Oh my god..." she moaned and just dropped into the mattress which made him smile as he got to work.

She always came quickly when he went down on her, but this time she was sure that things would go even faster. The vibe of everything was different, he wanted to make her feel amazing, he wanted to get her ready and relaxed so that he could fit inside of her this time. So after he made her come with his mouth he gently introduced his fingers, he was gentle as he prodded deep into her until her legs would tense up in pleasure.

"They're-they're so deep!" she'd whimper and he'd pop off her clit for a second to tell her that she was doing so well as he curled his fingers up so that he could rub the pads of them into her g-spot and she groaned loudly and he hummed as he started to suck at her swollen, little clit again, "Oh my god, yes! Don't stop!" she mewled as her legs started to tremble as her abdominal muscles tightened up, preparing her for another orgasm.

"Come for me, baby." He said and she immediately started to wither around his fingers. Her walls pulsing erratically around him as he flicked his tongue over her clit as he worked her through it. This time he wasn't going to give her a break, while she was relaxed form her orgasm he needed to stretch her just a bit more, "Baby, gonna add another finger." he warned her and kissed her inner thigh, "Need to stretch you out a little more for me, OK?" he explained and she mumbled an acknowledgement, her body tense, "Baby, relax for me. I'm not going to hurt you." he assured and she inhaled before releasing a shaky breath and relaxing, "Good girl." he said lowly and she shivered at that and he smiled up at her as he started to rub over her folds with three fingers now. He glanced down and placed his fingers against her entrance vertically, instead of horizontally first and he looked up at her again and she nodded. Harry then started pushing them in and she gasped softly at the new stretch, her brows creased down as she tried to relax.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked and she shook her head.

"I can take it." she assured and he stopped and climbed up to her and kissed her lips slowly.

"We don't have to do this all tonight." he said and she pouted.

"I know, I just...I want you so bad." she explained in a little whine and he kissed her pouty lips.

"I do too, angel. But I don't want to hurt you. If it hurts please tell me." he said softly and she swallowed hard.

"How about we kiss while you try again?" she asked and he nodded. It helped her a lot when he was up there with her, talking to her, encouraging her. After a few more tries he was able to get in further and despite her discomfort at this new feeling she assured him to go on.

"They're halfway in, that's plenty to open you up a little more." he assured her as he pumped them in and out a few times and she nodded, "Is that OK?"

"Stings a little." she confessed.

"I'm sorry, baby. Should I stop?" he asked again and she assured him that she didn't want that.

"It's not bad, just different." she explained, her voice pinching a bit and he hummed in understanding. Three fingers was a bit thicker than his cock, so at least he knew his cock wouldn't hurt her.

"If anything bothers you or hurts please tell me." he reminded her and she nodded. He started to rub his thumb into her clit and she relaxed a little more and she whimpered softly and he hummed, "There we go." he encouraged her and she moaned a little louder now as the discomfort subsided a bit more and she started to buck her hips along with his movements, "That's it, baby, that's it." he hummed and she gasped as he got in a bit deeper.

"I'm getting close." she whined, "Wanna come around you, not your fingers." she said against his lips and he nodded.

"OK, baby.” He replied, acknowledging her request. Her hands were already wandering down the front of his hoodie and quickly were at the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers traced over the elastic, tickling his skin every now and again before wandering further down to palm and run over his erection. He sighed against her mouth as she added a bit more pressure.

“Can’t wait to feel you.” She whispered and his eye fluttered closed as he moaned. His hips shifted and rutted against her hand all on their own. He was so turned on and eager to feel her for the first time. He had been imagining it for a while and as much as he wanted to just lose himself in the moment he wanted to ensure that he remained focused and mindful of her now that he knew just how much she trusted him.

“If you keep talking like that I’m gonna last all of 30 seconds.” He mumbled against her lips as he chuckled and she grinned.

"30 seconds?!" she laughed and he nodded.

"Already gonna be pushing it with this being our first time together. Don't want to make it worse." he said and she shook her head.

"Already told you, it's us, so it's going to be wonderful and I don't care about anything else." she said and he smiled. Harry was a professional over-thinker, if he could get paid for it he would and this was a prime example of how it would start. But something he really loved and appreciated about Y/N was her ability to talk him down from it, even now, when it was one of her big firsts and he was the one getting in his head about it.

"You're right." he smiled, "Let me grab a condom." he said and she nodded. He tore off his hoodie as he made his way to the bathroom and she did the same, also getting her bra off and then leaning back.

It's not like she wasn't a bit nervous, she had heard horror stories before of people bleeding or hurting so bad they cried and those were at this very moment coming to mind, but she just took a few deep breaths and shook it off. Harry was caring and gentle with her, he was patient and even went as far as preparing her a bit for this and her want for him outweighed everything else. So when she felt his weight dip the mattress she shot up pulled him down a bit to kiss him and he moaned into it. She could hear the wrapper of the condom crinkling about as his shaky hands tried to get it open.

"Got it." he said quietly when he finally opened it and she settled herself back against a pillow. Everything Harry did was attractive, even now as he carefully rolled the condom over his shaft. She bit her lip as it seemed to be a relatively tight fit. The thicker band of latex at the end of the condom seemed to indent just a bit around his girth.

"Are you sure that fits you? It's not uncomfortable?" she asked and he chuckled.

"Yeah, baby and no, it's not. S'supposed to be a little snug, can't have it slipping off during. And if it were too tight it'd start to ride up a bit until it rolls off, so this is good." he assured her and she nodded in understanding. Well, he should know, she thought to herself. He then reached beside her and pulled down one of the pillows, "Gonna put this under your hips." he said and she arched up to him slide it under.

"What for?"

"That spot inside that you like me to reach when I use my fingers," he said, "Want to get there so you can definitely feel good." he said and she nodded as he came closer and then lowered himself over her, "You alright?" he asked quietly and she nodded, "Not nervous or anything?"

"A tiny bit, but I know you'll take good care of me." she responded and he nodded.

"I will, baby. I don't want to bombard you with questions, so if you want something different or something's not feeling comfortable or good just tell me, OK?" she nodded, "And well, inversely, if something feels really good and you like it or if you want more you can tell me too." he said with a smile, "Y'know I like to hear all your pretty sounds." he said and she smiled.

"Kiss me." she adjourned and he leaned in and molded their lips together delicately. As their kiss went on he guided her left leg over his hip, opening her up a bit more and this allowed her to feel the full weight of his cock over her vuvla. His hips started to buck against her swollen and wet pussy, they could hear how wet she was for him, "Oh..." she moaned as the tip started to nudge into her clit over and over, making her grind up against him to increase the friction until she was digging her fingernails into his biceps as her body started to tense up, "I-I'm going to come!" she gasped and he bit his lip and started rutting faster, his own body became riled up at the friction and just how easily she had been built up. With a stream of moans she was withering beneath him as his grinding slowed in pace as to not overstimulate her, "Oh my god..." she panted through a chuckle and he grinned, "Sorry, I didn't mean too."

"Well, it's better if you're this relaxed." he assured and she smiled up at him as he shifted his hips down and gently pressing forward as his tip slipped down towards the dip of her entrance. She could feel his tip just crowning at her opening and she bit her lip at the feeling. The anticipation was growing inside of her rapidly, "Is this alright?" he asked and she nodded her eyes locked on his, "Gonna start pushing in, OK?" he warned her.

"OK." she whispered, voice hitched with nerves before she glanced up to the ceiling and picking a spot to focus on. A soft touch to her cheek pulled her focus back.

"Baby, look at me." he implored and her eyes fluttered back into his, "Right at me, baby." he insisted and she took a deep breath and nodded up at him and he took that as his permission to start pushing into her and her mouth immediately fell open as he breached her entrance and she gasped, immediately tensing up at the somewhat foreign feeling. He wasn't moving or anything, just giving her time to adjust. "Are you OK?" he asked and she nodded.

"Yes, it's alright." she responded, "S'just different." she said, voice a bit strained, "Keep going." she said and he nodded and continued moving forward gently and slowly. Harry moaned at the warmth and tight fit around him as Y/N slightly hissed at the slight discomfort, but his intrusion was welcomed and everything he had done beforehand had definitely made this easier on her. The discomfort didn't last more than a few seconds; that is until he was fully sheathed inside of her and she gasped, "Oh my god!" she winced and he tightened up his jaw, fighting every instinct inside of him that begged him to start moving, "Y-you're so deep!" she whimpered and he nodded.

"I know, baby." he responded breathily.

"Does it feel good for you?" she asked and he nodded quickly.

"Yes. So fucking good. You're so good, baby." he strained out and she smiled slightly. After holding himself inside for a bit she told him to move.

Harry's thrusts were gentle and slow, this was to both of their benefits. He ended up continuing on his knees as this gave him a better range of motion and allowed him to control his thrusts better and also to let his thumb start to rub over her clit. After some moments of this she started to moan as the pleasure started to build. She felt so full and he was right, his cock was hitting that spot that made her see stars, she could feel him nudging and rubbing into it until her legs were quaking and her her breathing was ragged. Their free hands were joined and their fingers intertwined, she was squeezing his for dear life as she got closer and closer. Her back arched and her legs stiffened as the feelings started to build to impossible ranges. She felt like she would explode as the sounds of pleasure continued to pour out of her.

"A little faster. Please!" she keened and he listened, picking up his pace just a bit more. She groaned out his name as her back arched, this was exactly what she needed and it was making her vision go blurry as the pleasure started to expand through her body deliciously.

"Oh god, can feel you're getting close." he swallowed hard and she nodded, "Come for me, baby." he panted and she nodded and whimpered as the feeling started to burn through her as she cried out his name and trembled beneath him.

Harry moaned and fell forward, his mouth fell open as he breathed hard and grunted as her orgasm pushed him over the edge. Her arms hugged around his back as her legs squeezed around his hips, pulling him in closer. Their eyes met, hers all glossed over and hazy as he started to come undone. His thrusts got a bit harder and erratic as he lost all of his control as his orgasm blazed through his body. He moaned into her mouth as her nails raked down his back hard, "Oh fuck, oh fuck!" he moaned with her and then stilled deep inside of her, making her gasp as he started to spill inside the condom. Immediately, their lips met in a frantic kiss, even if they were in dire need of air, this seemed more important.

"Love you." he panted, "I love you so much." he repeated and she smiled against his lips as their eyes blinked open again, "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you another time but-"

"I love you too, Harry." she cut him off and he smiled.

"Yeah?" he asked for reassurance and she nodded, the tears that had been welling up her eyes finally escaped and he reached up with one of his hands to wipe them away. He was starting to soften up and he decided to stay inside until he was softer to avoid any further discomfort for her, "Are you OK? Was that alright for you?" he asked cautiously and she nodded.

"It was good." she smiled, "Really good. Best I ever had." she joked and he giggled and shook his head. "Thank you for making it good for me and checking on me." she said, "And you had nothing to worry about, you lasted." she said and he laughed softly.

"That was five minutes at most." he said and she looked shocked, "But thank you for the confidence boost." he said with a grin and she kissed his lips again.

"No way... So what's the usual time you...go for?" she asked and he chuckled.

"At least fifteen minutes or twenty minutes. On a really good day." he said with a chuckle.

"That's a long time!" she gasped.

"It's... respectable." he said and she giggled.

"Well, whatever it is I can't wait to try more things with you, baby." she smiled and he grinned upon hearing this from her.

"I can't either. Thank you for trusting me with this, I'm happy it was me." he said quietly and she smiled up at him before they kissed for a bit more until he was able to pull out of her without too much discomfort on her end.

Harry then made sure to clean her up with a nice warm rag and brought her some water and helped her get dressed before they settled into bed. They were cuddled close together as his hands caressed her body soothingly as she curled into his chest. She felt so good, she couldn't stop smiling as she started to doze off as he played with her hair. Her vision was blurring as she succumbed to the warmth he provided her and the last thing she heard before giving in to her exhaustion was a whispered "I love you" that carried into her dreams of him and everything that they could be.

#writing #harry x y/n #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry x virgin reader #harrys tyles fluff #harry styles smut #boyfriendrry #boyfriend harry #virgin Y/N #harry styles one shot #0nlythrowharrybeaux #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic

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sky-kiss · 9 months

Note

prompt: they* go fishing

*whoever you want, raph/haarps would be fun maybe)

A/N: Mslanna, you wild and I love you. I truly should have taken this opportunity to write like. Wild West Au Raphael. Out on a boat. Fishing.

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Raphael x Haarlep: Fishing

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"You're brooding, boss."

Raphael doesn't look up at this little gibe, attention fixed, glaring, on the drafted contract. It's hardly his best work. He could fit a few more manipulative subclauses into section sixteen. A few phrases in the main body need reworking to allow for the maximum wiggle room on his part, but…

…well, he supposes his heart truly isn't in it today. It's a shame not to love your work.

Haarlep snorts, inspecting their claws. "Oh, Raphael is pouting, darling. His new favorite toy doesn't want to play."

"Hush, you."

"'Hush, you?'" They give him a look, hands planted firmly on hips. Haarlep hooks an arm around his neck, slipping into his lap. "Take note, Korilla: this is what depression looks like. No energy for witty repartee. No time for his old hobbies."

His warlock shakes her head. Haarlep adjusts themself in his lap, squirming into some semblance of comfort. It'd be easier as the Archduchess, but ease has nothing to do with their prerogative: Haarlep wants attention. Haarlep wants to distract and inconvenience.

"You're being tedious," they grumble. Haarlep pinches the back of his neck, claws threatening to break the skin. "They'll never want to play if this is how you act. Come, have a little fun. Entertain me."

"I've no interest in your flesh, servant."

Haarlep snorts. "However shall I cope, princeling?" The incubus waves off his rebuttal, sliding from his lap in one fluid movement. They clap their hands. "Oh, it's been a while. Can't we play in the Well?"

The cambion pinches the bridge of his nose. Fishing, Haarlep likes to call it, though it is barely an accurate reflection of the sport. "Haarlep…"

"You'll feel better. You always feel better after, dear." Almost as an afterthought, low and sickly sweet. "I know you, Raphael. Trust." The words make him itch, innocuous but with a hint of command. Trust? In the Hells? Trust this miserable creature? He thinks not.

But Raphael stands, hands linked at the small of his back. He lets himself be led to the soul pillars, his prized jewels. Haarlep delights in them, eyes flickering over the shimmering service, tracing the souls trapped within. Their tail thrashes behind them.

He's reminded of a housecat: trapped indoors, still hungry for prey, watching birds flutter past their window.

"You'll have to throw them back," Raphael warns.

"No fun at all." But Haarlep plunges their hand into the pillar, snake-quick. The stone's surface breaks around their arm like water. Haarlep catches one unfortunate soul, brings it forth, and squeezes. Savage glee flits across his features. The incubus holds their victim up for Raphael's inspection: a pretty little thing, no more than twenty, screaming, agonized, pledged to him for all eternity. A summer of pleasure for eons of torment; Raphael chuckles.

"There, look at you enjoying yourself. Good boy," Haarlep purrs, dragging the tips of their claws across the spirit's flesh. They howl. Irritated by the noise, he tosses them back into the pool. It's no fun without a fight. They want something more stoic, more breakable. "You'll feel so much better about the situation if you just relax, princeling. Here," they yank their hand free of the pillar, bringing a fresh soul. Raphael recognizes them: one of his newer acquisitions. An opinionated little shit who thought they'd retain the upper hand in a deal with a devil. "Make this one scream."

He does. And when the spirit is too weary to satisfy them with its cries, Haarlep thrusts them back into the pillar and fishes out new entertainment. The cycle begins again. A touch of mindless cruelty to break the monotony of his day…

…and Haarlep is right, damn them. Raphael feels better.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #haarlep #raphael x haarlep #i like that idea that they can just fish souls out of his soul pillars #do a little torment #throw em back

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pupintransit · 3 months

Text

Something fun i've noticed in the last couple days is that the novelty of my pussy has worn off.

I mean, realistically that's the goal right? You go through untold eons of feeling wrong about your body, you take the opportunity to correct it, and by X units of time it feels normal. Like you've always had this body, like walking around and simply vibing was always your reality. I remember that I possessed a penis and testes and i remember what they looked like on my body, but how they felt is becoming more and more of a distant memory.

My vulva feels natural to me now. I think all of the mental remapping my brain had to do in order to get accustomed to the change is over and done with. My folds and textures are second nature to me now, like i can look at myself in a mirror and think "Yes, I know what that part of me is supposed to look and feel like now, i don't actually have to reach down there to find it."

I reach down anyway of course. Have i mentioned how much fun masturbating is yet? I could literally do it for hours now and it feels just as natural as jerking my cock did. Moreso!

I'm taking a minute now and trying to remember the feeling of my balls dangling between my legs. I can describe it; sweaty, delicate, loose if the temperature was a little too warm. It sort of felt like a floppy stress ball that you weren't supposed to squeeze too tightly. I can recall, too, how those physical sensations made me feel, and remembering is making me physically uncomfortable already. Now though, when i turn my minds eye toward my body those sensations are absent. Of course they would be, right? I don't have those parts anymore. But I did for 30 whole ass years. It was a fundamental component of my being, and now i can only recall those feelings if i but an active effort into doing so. How dope is that shit?

I know folks who have said that their pre-op memories get changed ever so slightly after they get gender affirming surgery. Say you're thinking about a vacation you were on were the shower in your hotel wasn't working, and you get blasted with freezing water when it should have been nice and warm. That version of you would have your post-op or post-HRT body instead of what you had back when that memory was formed. That's so interesting to me! I'm not at that stage yet but i'm really excited to see if it's something i experience.

I think now's a good moment to mention something, and against my better judgement I'll probably write about how this relates to The Discourse™️ of my flavour of nonbinary, but your dysphoria doesn't actually have to be crippling in order to qualify to gender affirming care. I could still masturbate and wash myself pre-op without significant distress, for example. You don't have to "earn" it by proving you're sufficiently. If HRT or gender affirming surgery would improve your quality of life, if you can explain that without lying to your care providers and demonstrate you understand the medical risks, then that's all you need to do to "earn" your medical care. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to you, even if they themselves are transgender.

Especially if they themeselves are transgender.

If you're pushing back against nonbinary indenities, or people "inventing" new genders, labels, and definitions, or even just against kink in the trans community, i hate to tell you that it won't make the people oppressing us think you're one of the good ones. Us living authentically isn't setting the trans acceptance movement back, it's what it's supposed to allow us to do in the first place. I would really encourage you to rexamine why you have those beliefs, and why me getting a cunt installed as someone who passes as cisgender constitutes a net negative for our community.

Anyway that concludes the ranting portion of today's mini-essay.

Every time i think i've hit an apex with my joy it keeps getting stronger and stronger. This is the best decision i've ever made, not just because it made my body finally make sense to me, but because it made feeling normal so boring. I can't ask for a better outcome than that.

#trans #transgender #queer #genderqueer #enby #nonbinary #masculine nonbinary #transition journey #introspection #gender euphoria #do conservative queers add anything of value to our community?

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intheticklecloset · 3 months

Text

i'm trying.

I've been wanting to update you guys on where I'm at for a while, but every time I sit down to do it it just...doesn't come out the way I want it to. But here goes.

I am not in a good place with writing right now. I haven't been for a few months at this point. I WANT to write - I have so many ideas for stories - but the words just don't come to me easily these days. All the fics I've posted so far this year (with one or two exceptions) are ones that I had written in 2023. Very little of it has been fresh off the press content. And while I don't mind that, I do wish I could still be working on new things in the meantime. It's just not happening right now, and I don't know why.

I would love to open free fic requests again, but ohhhh the stress. I may not want to write most of the ones I get, and even if I do, it might take me eons to get to actually writing them. I have so many restrictions in place with my characters that I'll write for, would it put people off? No one has commissioned me in forever; would opening free requests even matter? I've done so many drabble events because it's all I can manage right now - are people burnt out on them? If I did another event would anyone even want to participate? Are my followers bored? Should I be trying harder to get into new fandoms and write for them?

Not to mention the stress of timing. Can I feasibly put out new content in tandem with old content, especially when they're for fandoms I have Primary Universes going for? What about writing for myself? Will I fall back into my old pattern of just doing what other people want or expect?

The thoughts are endless. This is the tip of the iceberg of what's going through my brain these days.

So...do I want to write? YES. Do I want to do free requests again? YESSSS. But will it happen? So far, it's not looking promising.

I'm trying, guys. I'm trying to hang in there and keep creating for you. I want to - it's not that I feel forced to. I just feel like my well has run dry, or that you're getting bored of the same stuff in different ways from me. It's a miserable feeling.

I still love my fandoms - I'm especially back in my MHA era these days - but...I don't know. It's just not coming to me as easily anymore.

But I'm still trying.

#nym's thoughts #update #blog update #writing update

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melishade · 6 months

Text

Attack on Prime: What if Optimus arrived in Episode 1 instead of Episode 5?

Main Story

Peaceful Timeline Pilot

Beloved Timeline Pilot

Summary: After the events of Predacons Rising, Optimus became one with Primus to ensure life would flourish on his world. But instead of eternal peace, he is somehow sent to the world of the Titans: where humans are no longer at the top of the food chain and are only safe behind walls. But instead of being sent to the Battle of Trost, he is sent to the moment where it all began: the fall of Shinganshina.

(Okay, so I have been…feeling like shit lately, which is kind of why I took a break. I needed the break. I had a lot going on. But I'm glad I did. I was really productive when it came to both writing and drawing. I finished this. I made progress on Guren No Yumiya. It's not finished. I wish it was. I made a few art pieces and animatics (poorly drawn animatics but I take pride in them). And I wrote the pilot for the Episode 1 timeline. It's definitely the shortest one out of the ones I've published so far, possibly because I didn't need to do too much set up.

Other than that, Happy Stabby Caesar Day and enjoy!)

"I only ask of this of you fellow Autobots: keep fighting the noblest of fights." Optimus requested.

"You can count on us to keep the peace." Bumblebee reassured.

Optimus gave a small yet bitter smile for his team. He stared a little longer than he thought, doing his best to memorize their faces, knowing that this would be the last time he saw them. The Prime then turned back to the mouth of the well, feeling a strange sensation at how long the drop was. Optimus then activated the jet wings on his back, and he flew high into the sky. The Autobots watched in sadness as Optimus turned around and dove headfirst towards the core of their planet: to Primus himself.

The closer that Optimus got to the center of their planet, the brighter the light of the core had become. It had been eons since he had come to this place to receive the Matrix of Leadership, and now, it was time for him to give it back. He opened his chest, revealing the Matrix of Leadership in all of its glory. As he was almost to the core, he began to think to himself. He was happy. He was happy that the fighting was finally over. He can die happy knowing that he brought back peace and saved the planet that gave him life. He knew his comrades, his family, would keep the peace. He had complete faith in them.

He closed his optics and a small smile formed on his face as he let warm light consume him.

The sounds of thunder caused his optics to snap open. He shot up to a sitting position, looking around frantically wondering what that sound was. It's only when his vision began to focus that he realized that...he was somewhere else. He was...back on Earth? It...it looked like Earth. The sky was slightly cloudy, but the sun was beginning to set, changing the color of the sky from blue to orange. He was surrounded by tall pine trees, and the blades of grass prickled the metal of his dark servos.

Wait...dark? Optimus raised his servo to his faceplate and was stunned to see the older model. The upgrade that he acquired from the forge of Solus Prime had changed the color and the structure of his servos. Optimus looked down at his legs and found that they weren't robust but slender. Even his back felt lighter. Optimus heard the sounds of rushing water and stood up. He followed the sounds to a clear river, traveling down his right side through the forest ahead. The Prime kneeled down to see his reflection, and nearly gasped at the sight of him. He was back in his old form. Optimus couldn't help but touch his audio receptors and his antennae to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. But sure enough, it was there. It was real. He was alive.

But...why? He shouldn't be alive. He should be one with Primus or reincarnated. Did merging with Primus not work? Were the souls of the Allspark still with him? No...no they couldn't be. When he merged them all with his own spark and the Matrix, he could feel their presence, practically hear them all shouting. But now...it was quiet.

Why in the Allspark did this feel like déjà vu?

Optimus gasped when he felt the ground quake and lightning come down from the sky. His gaze followed the direction of the lightning strike and saw that it struck a massive wall off in the distance. The Prime stared in horror at the sight of a massive, skinless, Titan that peered over the wall. Its muscles were just as red as blood. Optimus transformed into his old alt mode and drove as fast as he could towards the wall and the massive threat. When he arrived, he transformed back into his bipedal mode and skidded to a stop to the now destroyed entrance of the wall. Optimus saw the massive bodyseated at the entrances, the muscles and skeletons slowly dissolving into hot steam. Optimus also noticed a figure climbing over the wall, but before he could pursue, the sounds of terrified screams caught his attention. Optimus ran through the destroyed gate and stared in horror at the sight of giant, naked titans lumbering towards humans with permanent expressions of apathy, sadness, and most uncomfortably, glee. These titans picked up the humans running for their lives and started to devour them. Some would be swallowed whole while others would be killed by the strong bite force of these creatures. Blood spewed onto their bodies and onto the ground, creating more panic and terror among the populous.

Optimus gritted his dentas before letting his battle mask cover his mouth on instinct. He pulled out both blasters from his arms and aimed at the titan that was closest to him which was holding a human. He shot the titan through the head, causing the beast to tilt and fall over on its side, hitting the ground hard. Optimus noticed the way the titan body began to disintegrate and turn into steam like the massive pile of skeletons outside. His blasters were good; they were effective in taking out the threat. Optimus started running through the town and shooting down any titans that were in his line of sight. He then spotted a sadistic looking titan with an unhinged smile pulling a woman from the rubble of a wreckage. The long rows of unnecessary teeth scared him, and he saw the way the woman was beating against the hand that was holding her. As the titan reached out with its other hand to snap her spine, Optimus used his blaster and fired at the titan.

===

Eren tried. He really, really tried to pull the roof of the house off of his mom with Mikasa's help. But they couldn't do it. They were too weak. Not even the motivation of the people's screams and the titans invading their home could give them enough of that adrenaline to lift the damn wood off of their mother's back! Where was dad?! Someone help them!

“Then I’ll carry you out of here mom!” Eren swore as blood continued to seep from his wounds.

“Damn it Eren! Why won’t you listen to your mother for once in your life?! Just this one thing!” Carla shouted at him before turning to Mikasa, “Mikasa make him!”

Mikasa’s mouth grew tight as she hung her head and swallowed her tears, continuing to try and pull the roof off of her mother, “I…I can’t!”

Eren saw Hannes! He heard Hannes fly in and his mother call out his name! He felt some hope! Yes! Hannes could distract the titans while they got their mom out! He ignored what his mother was screaming at Hannes as he ran towards the titan coming towards them. C'mon! C'mon! Hannes please buy enough time! Just enough time! But Eren was then taken aback when Hannes’ arm wrapped around him. He was heaved over the man shoulder as he went to grab Mikasa.

"Hey! Hannes! What the hell are you doing?!" Eren screamed at him as Hannes began to run away. He could still see his mother trapped in the rubble and tried to reach out for her. "We can't leave her! Mom!"

"Eren! Mikasa!" He could see Carla reaching out for them, "You need to live on!"

Eren gasped when a titan landed on top of their house and dug through the rubble. He saw the titan pull his mother out of the rubble and screamed for her. "STOP!"

Carla slammed her fist on the hand that was holding her. The titan terrified her so much, but she still had to fight. She had to try and fight her way out of this beast's grip. But it was no use. The titan, with that wide, sadistic, permanent smile reached its other hand out towards her. To crush her. She didn't want to die! Please she didn't want to!

Unexpectedly, the titan's head exploded in a ball of blue light, causing Carla to scream and for Eren to gasp in confusion. What...what the hell was that?! Eren realized from the second ball of blue light that hit the titan in the chest that it was an attack. Someone, something, attacked the titan! Carla screamed as the titan body toppled over and hit the ground hard. The grip on the decaying, eroding, corpse loosened, allowing her to scramble out and crawl away using her hands.

"Hannes!" Eren yelled as he slammed his fist onto his head. Eren gasped when he noticed another abnormal titan running up to the house. Up to his mother! "HANNES TURN AROUND!"

"Kid, we can't-!" Hannes froze when he noticed the strange titan and quickly ran back to rubble.

"Ma'am, are you alright?!" a voice called out to her. Carla was about to respond, but froze when she realized what was speaking. She looked up to see a metal titan adorned in red and blue. It had no mouth to speak of, but those glowing blue eyes were scaring her to the point where she started screaming again and scrambling to get away. She tried to get up and walk, but she was sure the titan holding her really crushed her legs! She couldn't get up!

"Ma'am, I will not hurt you!" The titan spoke again, trying to reassure her.

"Get away from her!" Hannes yelled at the titan, still holding the two children.

Carla gasped and swatted her hand at them. "Hannes! Run! RUN!"

The titan noticed them and quickly stood up and raised its foot high into the air.

"Oh shit!" Hannes yelled, preparing to be crushed and eaten. He kneeled down to protect the kids in his arms from the impact, but the titan kicked a four meter class titan in the neck that was right behind them and almost killed the trio, punting it high into the air and over the wall, right back to the outside!

"Huh?" Mikasa could only emit in fear.

"Shit!" Eren bit Hannes' hand, forcing the Garrison to let him go and for him to roll on the ground. "MOM!" He scrambled to his feet and ran to his mother, ignoring her pleas to stay away. He tackled her into a hug and started crying in her arms.

"Eren, you need to go! Go now!" Carla begged her son.

"I swear to you I will not harm you!" the titan swore, causing Eren to stare up in shock. Titans...titans can speak? The titan was suddenly alerted to the sound of screams and saw another human in the grasp of a titan. It pulled out a gun, and Carla instinctively shielded her body on top of Eren's as the titan fired that blue light to kill the titan. The titan then noticed Hannes and seemed to look him up and down, like he was examining him.

"Are you military?!" The titan demanded.

"Y-yes! I-!"

"Get the civilians out of here, now!" the titan ordered. Eren managed to catch the strange symbol of a face on his arm before it suddenly...shifted?...transformed?...into a strange carriage. He rode as fast as the wind into the ongoing chaos in Shinganshina. Was it…going to save the people here? Was a titan actually going to save humanity?!

"What?" Eren muttered wordlessly.

"Can you walk?!" Hannes asked Carla.

"I can't feel my legs!" Carla answered.

"Alright!" Hannes quickly set Mikasa down before carrying Carla bridal style, "We need to get you three to the boat! C'mon! Run!"

"What was that?!" Mikasa asked.

"I don't know, just run!" Hannes ordered.

Eren and Mikasa started running towards the gate to Wall Maria with Hannes following close behind.

Meanwhile, Optimus continued driving his way throughout the walled town, transforming into his bipedal mode to take out as many titans as possible with his blasters. He wasn't sure how to seal the breach in the outer wall, but he knows that if another one is made through the gate in the inner wall, then there would be more consequences and lives lost.

That's when Optimus spotted it. An Armored Titan in a sprinting position, the trajectory towards that undamaged gate. As the titan began running, Optimus drove as fast as he could towards the gate, scaring the humans in his way and causing them to jump out of the way. When he reached the gate, the Armored Titan had almost bulldozed his way through, but Optimus rammed the titan into its side, causing the two of them to crash into multiple houses.

Optimus transformed into his bipedal mode and punched the Armored Titan twice in the face, but the Armored Titan grabbed him and threw him off of it. Optimus easily landed on his feet and skidded to a stop. Optimus noticed the Armored Titan’s had no real expression, its face adorned in armored leaving a permanent expression of stern and intimidating. But the body language of the beast said otherwise. It was afraid of him. It was scrambling to its feet to try and get into a fighting stance to counter attack, but Optimus bolted and tackled it to the ground and the rubble.

The Garrison atop the houses watched in stunned silence at the sight. That Metal Titan was fighting the Armored Titan. Titans were fighting amongst themselves. And from what some had seen earlier, this Metal Titan was protecting humanity! What kind fucked up situation was that?!

Optimus used all of his strength to pin the Armored Titan to the ground, shoving his servo in its face to keep it there. "Stay down!" Optimus grunted when the Armored didn't listen and smacked him in the face hard with its arm. Optimus rolled across the ground and crashed into a few houses. He sat up and watched the Armored shed the armored plating behind its lower legs before bolting towards him. Optimus quickly transformed and drove backwards, leading the Armored further and further away from the gate that was now reopening to take more civilians.

"Go! GO!" A Garrison screamed at the civilians as they ran through the gate.

"Is there still a boat here?!" Hannes demanded, still carrying Carla in his arms, with Eren and Mikasa close behind.

"Hannes, what the hell are you doing?! Get back to your station!" the Garrison ordered.

"Not until I get them to safety!" Hannes shouted.

The Garrison looked annoyed and conflicted but pointed behind him, "Get to the boat before it leaves!"

"C'mon!" Hannes ordered the children as they continued running. Eren couldn't help but look back at the chaos happening behind them. A titan...fighting for humanity? A titan...that saved humans? It was surreal, a reversal of everything he ever knew, and stuff he felt needed to be called into question.

“Eren!” Eren snapped his head to the voice calling his name and gasped when he saw Armin waving to him on the boat, his grandfather seated on the ground with only his hat visible.

“Armin!” Eren called out to him as the four of them boarded the boat.

“What’s going on?!” Armin asked as Hannes set Carla on the ground.

“There’s a Metal Titan!” Eren explained, “And it’s fighting some Armored Titan and stopping it from destroying the wall!”

“What?!” Armin exclaimed.

Optimus skidded to a stop and drove in a circle, tripping the Armored and causing it to slam into the ground face first. Optimus saw cracks form in the Armored face before running and punching it in the face to the ground. Optimus grabbed the creatures arm and used all of his strength to twist it. The Armored had size going for it. It was clearly much bigger than him, but it clearly lacked battle experience. Optimus knew where to press his pedes, where to put more strain to twist. He let out a battle cry before twisting the arm clean off and tossing it to the side. The arm crashed into some houses and two other smaller titans.

Optimus was distracted by that moment of victory when the Armored used the remaining arm to smack him in the chest. Optimus yelled in pain at the sensation, and the Armored used its remaining arm to grab him by the face and slam him into the ground. Optimus could feel pain shoot up his back. He could feel the dirt and debris scratch his paint and metal plating, but Optimus grit his teeth and endured the pain. Optimus transformed his servo into a blaster and aimed it directly at its face. Before the Armored had time to process, Optimus fired, shattering the cracked, armored plating in one go. The Armored yelled in pain, scratching at its face to try and get rid of the energon burning in its muscle. The pieces of the armor hit the ground before it slowly began to erode. Optimus jumped and smacked the blaster in the Armored face, knocking it to the ground. Optimus then used his blaster to blow off the left leg of the Armored, causing it to cry out even louder.

Optimus saw that it was immobile and stood atop it. He aimed his blaster directly at the titan's face. For some reason, he managed to catch tears streaming down that charred face, but the Prime chose to ignore it. There were too many lives currently at risk, and this titan was going to raise that causality count even higher by destroying that gate. He had to make a decision.

Optimus charged his blaster at the Armored's head, blowing it clean off, and leaving nothing but the nape of the neck. Optimus watched the titan body crumble and decay under his pede. The remaining armor eroded, then the muscle, and finally, the bones turned to nothing but dust. Optimus’ pede that was resting on the Armored’s chest ended up hitting the ground once the body was gone. Organic material isn’t able survive the full force of energon based weapons. The enemy was taken care of.

However, Optimus was alerted to the sounds of more terrified screams and turned his helm to the chaos that was still happening and the titans still running rampant across the town. He noticed a human flying towards him with that strange contraption around his waist. "Evacuate the humans! I will deal with the titan threat!"

"Wait-!" Hannes watched the titan run towards the hostile titans in the around Shinganshina. It continued to kill the titans with its guns, without even hitting them in the neck. It was…amazing, awe-inspiring. This titan was able to save humanity from losing Wall Maria. Hannes snapped out of his shock and went right back into the fray, trying to find as many survivors as possible, unaware of the two children atop the walls. A boy carried an exhausted girl on her back and ran along the length of the massive structure.

The Survey Corps was having a bad day. Well, they've always had bad days. It was never easy for them.

They had always suffered heavy losses when they came back from their expeditions from outside the walls. But when they returned, and they had given the arm of Moses to the weeping mother, something inside of their Commander Keith Shadis clearly snap. He broke. He broke down in front of everyone and walked away in shame. He had given up. All those years of leading and failing had finally taken its toll on Keith. The next thing they all new, Erwin had become the 13th Commander of the Survey Corps.

Erwin had to go through protocol. Appoint scouts to squad leader positions, inform Zackley about the change in command. It was late and it was quite a bit of work to accomplish, but then...they heard about the wall being breached. About a large Colossal Titan with no skin that was as tall as the wall, kicking the gate in and letting titans inside.

Erwin noticed the way that both Levi and Mike were staring at him, almost like they were judging him. “What?”

"Five minutes after you get this shit show, Shinganshia's under attack.” Levi remarked.

Erwin sighed at that. He supposed that the timing could have been better. "Yes, Levi, the irony is not lost on me.”

"More like a bad omen," Mike added.

The report was a mere hours ago, considering that information had to be transferred by horseback. But the Survey Corps were on high alert. They immediately got their supplies, their 3D gear, mounted their horses, and headed towards Shinganshina.

But Erwin had also heard an extremely conflicting report on the way there, something everyone found to be completely unexpected: the titans were fighting each other. An Armored Titan was fighting a Metal Titan. Both had displayed intelligence, and the Metal Titan had killed the Armored Titan, protecting Wall Maria from falling to the titans. Other reports were still hard to accept, like this Metal Titan wielding guns that could kill titans without hitting the nape of the neck, but a titan protecting humans instead of killing? What could that possibly mean for humanity as a whole?

When they arrived to Shinganshia, the Garrison reluctantly opened the gate to allow them into the walled city. Mike noticed the way the Garrison soldiers were still assisting injured civilians out of the rubble and through the now open gate.

"The Metal Titan's at the exit of Shinganshina, killing titans with his strange weapons," a soldier, Hannes, informed.

"Did you just say he?" Hanji started to grin.

"No," Mike warned them.

"He's been trying to prevent more titans from coming into the city, but we don't have all the resources to get everyone else out," Hannes continued.

"What do you mean by 'he'?" Levi demanded, "There's no way a titan is sentient."

"Check for yourself, but we need help getting people out," Hannes requested, "Some are still stuck in their homes."

Erwin turned to Nanaba. "Help with recovery and evacuation."

"Yes, sir!" Nanaba saluted before addressing her fellow comrades on what to do next. Erwin immediately flew over the ruined houses of Shinganshina, followed by Levi, Mike, and Hanji. The quartet examined their surroundings and was internally horrified. The day that they had all feared: the titans’ invading, had come true. But...where were the titan bodies? The decaying corpses? Where was the corpse of the Armored Titan? They were practically non-existent. There was only rubble and human remains, but nothing else.

"Sir," Mike called out as he pointed ahead, his nose flaring up as he did so. The four of them landed on the houses near the broken gate, and were stunned at the sight. A giant, metal, titan, its torso and arms red and its legs and head blue, stood in front of the damaged gate with a glowing blue gun for an arm. A titan started lumbering through the entrance, but they all witnessed the sight of the gun glowing brighter before firing at the titan before him. The titan was shot in the head, but instead of regenerating, its body began to erode and fade away. It collapsed on the ground before turning to bones, and then smoke.

"Holy shit." Even the captain was taken off-guard by the sight. They had just witnessed a titan kill another titan without even touching the nape of the neck! How?! That was supposed to be impossible.

"I must study him!" Hanji tried to leap forward, but Mike quickly grabbed them and wrestled them back. Hanji yelled in protest, but their cry quickly got the attention of the titan, who looked back at them. Erwin had noticed the being wearing a mouth guard of some kind, and the blue of its eyes mirrored that of the weapon for an arm.

"Hello!" Hanji greeted with a wave.

"Are you the reinforcements the others have informed me of?" the titan asked them. It speaks. It actually speaks! It didn't have a mouth but it spoke a clear and concise sentence!

"Yes," Erwin spoke, trying his best to keep his composure, "My name is Erwin Smith: the Commander of the Survey Corps."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance; however, I cannot move from my post, Commander," The titan explained, "I wish to aid the humans that need to evacuate the city, but if I leave, more titans may come in and cause more damage. Can you provide assistance in removing the civilians from the area?"

"We are currently working on that, but there is concern about your intentions-!"

"I do not consume humans," The titan automatically replied.

"That was quick." Levi narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"My race requires a different fuel source for consumption," the titan explained as he shot at another titan without even looking, "One that I will need to locate in a different time. For now, I wish to focus my attention on the task at hand."

"I need to take notes." Hanji grunted as they tried to get out of Mike's grip once more.

Erwin did his best to assess the situation with what he had, but he ultimately came to a conclusion. "Assist the others in evacuation."

"Erwin, you can't be serious," Mike said.

"This is an opportunity we can't waste," Erwin whispered to him before turning back to the titan, "If you are truly a sentient being, do you have a name?"

"My name is Optimus Prime," the titan answered.

"A name," Hanji squealed.

"Thank you for your assistance," Erwin said before beckoning his comrades to follow him. They followed him away from the titan, and once Erwin believed he was out of ear shot, he spoke, "Play along for now. We will be stationed here until the wall has been repaired. We need all eyes on him at all times."

Hanji raised their hand. “Can I study him?”

“From afar,” Erwin warned.

“Yes,” Hanji grinned.

“Erwin, we just saw that titan kill other titans,” Levi retorted, “How the hell are we supposed to counter attack if that gun is turned on us.”

“I don’t know,” Erwin answered, “But if we play our cards right, we could have a valuable asset to humanity and the Survey Corps. Mortality rates among troops would be reduced. Knowledge could be shared. Territory could be expanded.”

“Or this titan could let other ones in,” Mike retorted.

“But he’s killing our titans,” Hanji retorted.

“I meant others like him,” Mike clarified, “He smells different from the other titans. He smells like metal, gunpowder, and smoke. Erwin, what if he’s not the only one?”

“…I don’t know how to provide a solution to that,” Erwin confessed, “But I can’t pass up this opportunity out of fear. This is the first time in a long time that humanity has had hope. I’m not going to throw away that chance.”

The others looked at each other with concern before turning back to their Commander.

“Whatever you say,” Levi spoke, “We trust you.”

“Thank you,” Erwin said, glancing back to see the titan at the entrance to the Walls. He could’ve sworn that the titan looked back at them and the two made eye contact. Erwin could feel it in his gut. This was the beginning. This was the beginning of humanity’s counterattack.

(A few notes:

-Again, the shorter pilots out of the other two. Peaceful Timeline and Beloved Timeline needed to set up characters and the weight of time. Episode 1 doesn't need to do that because it's the beginning of the series. -I wanted to show that Reiner was panicked at the sight of Optimus. Not just because he was ill-prepared for a titan like him, but also because Reiner is still not in the correct emotional headspace after the loss of Marcel just hours prior. -Also Bertholdt had to carry Annie and run along the Wall for miles just to find a way to sneak in lol. -Also, also, because of Optimus' lack of information about titan shifters and the situation he's presented with, yes, he would kill Reiner on the spot because he doesn't know. This ultimately ends up eating him alive later down this timeline. -Carla's paralyzed but still alive. I figured Optimus' intervention in Episode 1 would save her life, because fuck fate. Am I right?

Anyway, take a look at my other stuff or the extensions of this timeline posted on my Masterlist and have a good one).

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