My Fandoms And My Fandom Neighbors!

When Levi gets in the mood, nothing is stopping him especially if he hasn't seen you in a little while. The few knocks on the door are ignored again as Levi is balls deep inside of you, his hips move lazily, his cock slowly moving inside of you. You two have been going at it for four rounds, it still wasn't enough for Levi. He fucked you on his desk in every possible position imaginable, had you whimpering and begging for more, both of you were totally exhausted but it wasn't enough. Levi ignored the knock on his door, his attention on you, grey eyes looking at your every expression, your lips were swollen, neck filled with love bites, your hair messy, body sweaty. You looked divine in his eyes.

The soft moans leaving your lips as he moved on top of you made Levi want to speed his movements up again and that's excatly what he does. "Fuck, I can never have enough of this pussy." He leans down and kisses you sloppily, your hands run through his hair, your legs wrapping tighter around him. The desk creaks under you when Levi starts to thrust into you harder. Another knock, Levi groans and pulls away from the kiss. "Fuck off! Can't you tell that I am fucking preoccupied?" His voice was rough, abs flexing when your pussy clenched around him. "Maybe this will send them the message..." He takes your legs and puts them over his shoulders and than starts fucking you in a rough pace, the desk shakes making noises and your combined moans make it so much better. Let's just say, the knocking stopped after that....

Mini-me {Love and Deepspace boys}

I can't stop imagining the LADS boys with kids. Mainly because of the "Plushies I gave her; plushies she gave me" trend. I CAN'T, I CANNOT, I DO NOT HAVE THE ABILITY TO CAN XD

Enjoy!

-Seven

|| Masterlist ||

Rafayel ❖· ────── · ·

Rafayel is as much of a child as he is a man

I think that Rafayel would have a son.

Right now, the two of you aren’t planning for another child, but Rafayel wouldn’t say no XD

Rafayel would be super fun and silly with your son

He would be overly dramatic when your son presents a new drawing of craft to him

“Here, papa,” Your son presents a painting of the ocean to Rafayel, “I tried the oil paints this time.”

With a hand at his chest, Rafayel does a big gasp, “What a masterpiece!”

Your son giggles

“I should present this at my next art exhibit!”

Please, as much as he exaggerates his reactions, he would have those painting and trinkets buried with him - that’s how much he loves your son

I imagine that one day as you’re cooking, they’re in the living room and Rafayel has your son’s hand enveloped in his own, guiding him as he paints.

It reminds you of that time in his studio in Greensprings after you promised to see the lanterns together

“What should we add next, kiddo?”

“Hmmm.” Your son taps the paintbrush on his chin, “What about some birds?”

“Heh, like the ones that stole your chips the other day?”

“It wasn’t the birds! It was you, papa!” he jabs the paintbrush at Rafayel’s chest

Rafayel lifts his hands up in surrender, “What do you mean? I’m innocent.” He chuckles as your son pouts at him

More often than not, the two of them are covered in paint, or whatever art supply they used. It ends up to be a whole load of washing for you >:(

Your son definitely loves the ocean just as much as his father.

When you were pregnant with him, he would kick in your belly whenever you were swimming or submerged in water.

As a toddler, he would kick his legs and squeal every time the waves washed over him

Rafayel would have his hands under your son’s arms, stabilising him so that the waves wouldn’t push him over

Now at six years old, he’s diving under, collecting shells and chasing fish,“Momma, look at this shell.” He lifts his small palm carrying a pink shell, his pearly whites beaming up at you as he smiled, “You can have it, momma, orrrrr, maybe I can make it into a paint with papa later.”

It’s late afternoon and your son is knocked out on the couch from spending the entire morning at the beach.

You and Rafayel get started on dinner

Rafayel comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Huh?” You pinch your brows and chuckle a little as he nuzzles your neck, “What for?”

He takes a deep breath, “I don’t know, just… For our son, for being my wife, I’m just happy, I guess.”

You chuckle lightly, “I’m happy too.” You turn around and pinch his cheek, “A little jealous that he takes after you so much, but happy.” you offer a bright smile.

Before Rafayel can lean in, his arms are jerked away from your waist

Your son is pulling at Rafayel’s arms, “No, papa! Momma is mine!” He’s leaning all the way back, using his entire weight as leverage to pry Rafayel’s body from yours, “Go away, papa!”

Rafayel scoffs, “Yours?” He raises an eyebrow, “Tsk.” He clicks his tongue and hauls your son over his shoulder, Your momma was mine first, you jellyfish!”

Rafayel's fingers jab at your son's sides, and the sound of your son’s laughter fills the kitchen “Hahaha, pa—haha-papa! Stop!” He’s got tears in his eyes but the biggest smile on his face.

“Nope!” Rafayel pops the ‘p’ and continues to tickle him, “I gotta show you who’s the big fish in this tank, pipsqueak.”

You shake your head and put an hand at your hip, the other one pointing the spatula at them, “Alright, enough, or both of you aren’t getting dinner.”

Sylus ❖· ────── · ·

Sylus has a daughter, a son, and another on the way!

He’d spoil them ROTTENNNNNN. I mean, he buys you dresses, gives you his black card to spend as much as you want, what more would he do for your children? Or rather, what wouldn’t he do for them?

He would definitely be the type to let your children learn how to do things on their own, even if they are clearly struggling. He lives by the ‘they’ll never learn if they don’t do it themselves.’ idea - he literally says "I prefer the cold and things that make me strong."

Although, he would yield after a little while when they’re clearly upset and wailing, but more often than not, with some gentle encouragement, he’d get them to figure out how to do it themselves - climbing thing, opening boxed, pulling out chairs, etc.

It gets a little troublesome since they become explorative - he often has to use his Evol to reign them back in. Although, the children squeal in delight when they’re lifted into the air and land in their father’s arms.

Mephisto is surprisingly gentle with your little ones, keeping his claws and beak out of range because it could hurt them, but also because they wouldn’t hesitate to grab it XD

Luke and Kieran are often on babysitting duty so that you and Sylus can go out - Honestly, this is why you have another baby on the way. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Sylus would totally hum to your belly, always off-tune, but he definitely would.

ANYWAY

Today, you’re out on an errand and your baby boy is absolutely crying to bits so Sylus and your daughter are trying their best to calm him down

Sylus has your daughter on his shoulders as he changes your son’s diaper. Your daughter has her hands in his hair as she makes silly faces down at her brother to try and distract him from crying.

By the time you come home, it’s quite late and you find that they are all sprawled out in the middle of the living room floor, toys scattered about and a kids show playing in the background.

Your son is splayed out on Sylus chest while your daughter is on her stomach, across Sylus’ stomach XD

You chuckle a lightly at their positioning

The lack of sleep must have finally caught up to Sylus, huh? You think

As you come closer you realise that your son is awake - he’s cooing with a fist in his mouth, drooling all over Sylus’ shoulder.

With a little difficulty, you kneel down onto the floor to slip your son out from Sylus’ arms. Slow and steady… The last few times you’ve tried, Sylus’ eyes would snap open, on high alert -because who would dare try to take his precious angels.

Anyways, you decided that Sylus probably needs the sleep, especially since you’re pregnant again, he’s been so on edge

You cradle your son in one arm, and with the other, you run your hand through Sylus’ hair - which he subconsciously leans into.

Then, you lean down to place a light kiss on your daughter’s cheek, although leaning down has become a challenge in itself with your growing belly.

With the support of a nearby armchair, you stand yourself up.

You make your way over to the cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the room, cradling your son to your chest to feed him.

Just as he finishes, your daughter’s slowly sits up from where she was laying. She rubs at her eyes and blinks sleepily - a vibrant red, like her father’s, peeking through.

She looks around the room and gasps in delight when her eyes land on you, “Mama!”

She takes a few steps to you and then stops midway to look back at her father. She hurriedly grabs the throw blanket from the armchair and throws it across her father, uncaring of whether it covered him properly or not.

“Hi, mama.” She greets you as she climbs to sit in your lap

“Hi, sweetie.” You gently caress her face, “How was your day?”

“Mmm…” She quirks her lips, “Well, little bubba was crying a lot, like, a lot, a lot.”

You chuckle as she spreads her arms all the way apart.

“But I missed you." She nuzzles into your shoulder, "Daddy did too, he kept looking at the clock.”

Hehe, ever the observant girl your daughter was.

“Aww, I missed you, and daddy, and bubba as well.” You press little pecks to her face and nuzzle your nose with hers to which she giggles. Like tinkling bells in the wind.

Zayne ❖· ────── · ·

I feel like Zayne would have a son and a daughter. Your son would be quite a few years older than her though

Some days, Zayne would take them to work, subtly showing them off to his colleagues

Greyson never misses the opportunity to pinch their cheeks and ruffle their hair, “They both look like a mini Dr. Zayne."

Zayne may have all those awards and trophies lining his office walls, but his pride and joy will always be his children

He may not outwardly express it, but he absolutely cherishes them - reading them bedtime stories, tucking them in with the lightest kiss upon their foreheads

I imagine your son would be very studious, having read most of the books occupying the shelves of Zayne’s office. He would be quite curious, exploring the hospital and asking the doctors all sorts of questions that they themselves do not even have the answers to.

He would be your little gentleman, learning from his father, pulling out chairs and opening doors.

Your daughter would probably be a little shy, always having a fist clenched on her daddy’s clothes or holding onto his hands, or rather his fingers.

Her big brother wouldn’t hesitate to get her whatever she wanted or take her wherever she wishes - your family’s little princess

As much of a workaholic Zayne is, and as much as he wants to provide for you and your little family, he would have no problems lessening his hours to spend time with you and the children

It doesn’t matter how tired he is from a long day of endless surgeries, he would just as eagerly play with them in the living room

“Here, Dad, have a turn.”

“What is it?” Zayne removes his coat and drapes it over the couch’s armrest.

“Uncle Greyson bought it for us.” Your son leads Zayne over to the living room table.

“Uncle Greyson, huh?”

Your son brushes over the comment and continues to explain the little toy, “You have to take these plastic organs and bacteria out without touching the edges or else it beeps and his nose flashes a red light.”

Ever the steady-handed surgeon, Zayne takes them all out without a problem.

“Daddy,” your daughter clutches at the fabric of Zayne’s dress shirt. “I want to try.”

Zayne beckons her over to stand in front of him where he can support her little hands holding the plastic forceps

On the off chance that you are not with them, Zayne would get them sweet treats on the way home

“It’ll be our little secret.” Zayne whispers, with a finger pressed to his lips

your son and daughter giggle in their seats and happily gobble up spoonfuls of the dessert

It isn’t long before they all start having toothaches and receive a scolding from you

On family vacations, you all end up in a cabin up in the mountains of Snowcrest (at the request of your sweet little angels)

Zayne is more than happy to teach them how to snowboard,

Much to your surprise, as your daughter grew older, you found that she was quite proficient in snowboarding

But there used to be times where Zayne made them little tiaras and crowns of ice and built little ice castle with them using his Evol

Xavier ❖· ────── · ·

Sleeps as much as your newborn son, if not more, and your eldest son has inherited his father’s incredible appetite.

When you’re not at home, Xavier nearly burns the house down trying to make food for them, so once your son was old enough, he opted to learn how to cook - having his father as an assistant because, you know… they need supervision or something XD

Xavier would definitely read them bed time stories

His voice is so soft and mellow, they would fall asleep so quickly

Not much of a surprise considering that Xavier falls asleep at the drop of a hat

But on days when they have nightmares, Xavier would use his Evol to create little bunnies and flowers that float around in their bedroom

and when sleep finally overtook them, he would tuck their blankets around them and whisper,

“Sweet dreams, my little starlight.”

Most days, in your lounge, your younger son would be crawling all over Xavier as he laid on the floor.

“Arghh, the monster’s got me.” he would jokingly say.

Your older son would then come in with a cardboard sword, gently tapping his little brother on the back to slay the monster

Xavier cradles the young one in his arms, “And the hero has saved the day once again!” He lifts the infant up into the air and receives a toothless smile.

“Just like you and mommy!” Your son beams down at Xavier, sword and shield still poised, “You keep us safe from all the wanderers, right? I wanna be just like you and mommy.”

Xavier just smiles - the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “Well, we better start training, huh?” Xavier ruffles your son’s hair.

Although he may not be as well-off as Sylus, he definitely would do his best to spoil them, bringing them to amusement parks, buying them little star lamps for their bedrooms, taking them to the arcade and playing kitty cards with them.

One time, you all went on a holiday to this guest house in the forest. When you asked him how he knew about this place he replied with:

“I befriended the uncle that runs this guesthouse while I went fishing that one time.”

Xavier would take them hiking, showing your sons the most scenic views in the forest

when night time came, all four of you were laying down on a blanket, gazing at the stars

Today, he’s taken you to a cherry blossom park. He’s got your eldest son on his shoulders, and your little one in a baby carrier at his front.

Your eldest son is reaching up trying to grasp at the pink petals some of which fall onto your youngest’s head.

Xavier quickly lets go of your hand, which he was holding, to brush them out of your baby’s face. (he’s using the other one to stabilise your son’s leg over his shoulder)

Just as quickly, he grasps your hand once more.

You squeeze his hand lightly, “Let me take the carrier from you, Xavier.”

“No, it’s okay.” He quickly refuses, “I want to carry them both. It won’t be long before they’ll be too big to do so.”

AHHHHAAA, I'm finally finished with exams, so I'll be able to write more often. Yahooooo ~(˘▾˘~)

But brooooo, the Lads with KIDSSSSS I CAN DIE HAPPY

-Seven

|| Masterlist ||

Kinktober 2020 day 10- food play (L. )

I'm such a fucking simp for L iabskanwkwdnebsk he's just so cute??? I love him. So anyway enjoy, also this is so late I'm sorry . P. S this isn't during the Kira investigation

Implied female reader

Summary : it's no secret L likes sweets so he's rather excited when you let him bring it into the bedroom. No plot just horny hours.

It was obvious that L enjoyed sweets, he was almost constantly eating some kind of desert and even eating straight sugar cubes. In fact you don't think you've ever seen him eat something that wasn't a desert.

L had been conflicted lately, his thoughts and mind had been occupied by you as of late, witch was fairly normal as he often thought about you, especially when he was away. It wasn't that he was thinking of you that was the problem, but rather how he was thinking of you. His mind would begin to drift to less pure places the longer it wasn't filled with murder cases and criminals. It wasn't often L felt particularly horny, and even when he was he'd never been quite as eager. He reasoned that it was because he hadn't seen you in almost 2 weeks and desperately wanted to touch you again, but deep down he knew that wasn't the hole story.

Deep down he knew it was also because of his recent dirty fantasies. It seemed like whenever his mind began to wander to filthy places it always seemed to fallow the same basic desire, you layed on his bed completely naked and dripping just for him, chocolate sauce covering your body inviting him to run his tounge along your (s/t) skin. He wanted to cover you in sweets from chocolate sauce and wiped cream to cake frosting and butterscotch.

L smiled to himself at the thought of the sweet confectionerys dripping down your thighs and smeared across your breasts. He hoped you'd let him act out his little fantasy with you. He was eager, something that was quite rare for the Raven haired detective. The blue light from his various monitors illuminated his perverted grin in the dark room as he remembered that he came back tomorrow. You were no doubt just as excited as he was, even if it was for slightly different reasons.

You didn't question anything when you received a package full if various sweets, figureing that it was for your sugar addicted boyfriend. You were just about to put them away when you heard the door open and shut with a click. You walked out of the kitchen and smiled at the familiar slouching man in front of you. "L! Welcome back, I missed you" He made his way over to you and wrapped his lanky arms around you. "It's good to see you again y/n.did you get the box of things I sent here? " You nodded and chuckled slightly "yah it's in the kitchen, I was going to put them away but you got home" He let out a quiet hum before retrieving the box. He wasted no time grabbing you hand as he pulled you towards your shared room, this wasn't abnormal as L often dragged you to the seclusion of your shared room in order to cuddle and talk. This seemed different though, L seemed oddly eager to get to the bedroom and you wondered as to the reason why.

Walking in before locking the door and tossing the box onto the large bed. He turned back to you and brought your face closer to his, he pressed a soft but eager kiss to your lips as his arms now snaked around your waist to pull you closer. He niped at your lip slightly asking for entrance witch you gladly gave him, you parted your lips slightly and his tounge immediately darted in to sweral around yours and explore your mouth. He tasted like sugar, no doubt from something he ate earlier in the day, his hands gingerly ran along your waist and under your shirt. It always surprised you how handsy he could be when he was horny, fingers trailing gently over your skin before squeezing and groping at anything he could.

Breaking away from the kiss to breathe, you looked up at L's normally stock face to see an adorable smile painted apon it. "I want to try something new y/n...please?" You nodded already haveing a vague idea of what he was planning. Gently he pushed you back onto the bed and began striping off your shirt and sweatpants as you stripped off his long sleeve shirt and bagy pants. You couldn't tell at first because of how bagy his pants were but he was already hard. He unhooked your bra before tossing it haphazardly to a random spot in the room. He kissed you again, tounge invadeing your mouth as he ground his erection against your clothed sex.

You moaned into the kiss as one of his hands met your breasts, pinching and rolling your hardened bud between his fingers. This time it was L who broke the kiss, leaning back and removeing your panties he opened the box next to you on the bed and dumped out it's contents before tossing it away. The first thing he reached for was the chocolate syrup, popping open the cap and tilting it upside down he drizzled it along your breasts and stomach, a little bit on your thighs. You looked to gorgeous in front of him, dripping with chocolate sauce and arousal.

He leaned down to your chest and pressed a long lick with the flat of his tounge, just above your breast all the way up your neck and to your jaw.

Long firm licks all over your chest collecting the sweet liquid on his tounge before his mouth latched onto your breasts. His skilled tounge sweraling and laping at your harden nipple and chocolate covered skin as his hand came to kneed your other breast. You moaned and gently tugged at his Raven locks as he continued his assault on your chest. Soon he switched sides, licking your other breast clean before doing the same to his now chocolate covered hand.

He moved lower and lower down you body, not missing a single drop as he left wet kisses and kitten licks over your stomach and thights.

Finally he came down to your dripping sex, his warm breath makeing you shudder. Wide and flat his tounge pressed a firm lick over your dripping folds and clit, you moaned out and shuddered. He continued to eat you out like a man starved as his mouth kissed and sucked your clit, tounge running along your sensitive folds tasteing you. You moaned and gasped from the feeling of him pressing further against your puffy clit. Two willowy fingers slid into your pussy and wiggled around ripping a moan from your mouth. His tounge slipped in, writhing and rubing against your walls. Pleasure washed over you as you came, L didn't stop however, wet muscle still inside you and tasteing every part of your sensitive area.

To him you were the sweetest snack and he most certainly wasn't done. Tounge and fingers still inside you, his slender digits started to trace along your soft walls, S-W-E-E-T. Your back arched off the bed and your hands tangled in his black hair. Your legs shaked as you came again. This time l pulled back, rummaging through the various sweets he picked up a container of cake frosting, popping open the lid his slick fingers scooped up a generous amount of the creamy substance before his now frosting covered fingers dipped down and scooped up the slick coating your folds, a little frosting getting slightly smeared on them. He'd get that later. Bringing his fingers to his mouth he licked them clean of the frosting and your cum before dipping his head back down to get anything he missed.

His cock was throbbing and pleading to be stuffed in your over sensitive cunt. He removed his boxers ready to suff himself in you but you stopped him. He was confused for a split second before he realised what you wanted to do. You got off the bed and sat him down where you once were. You licked from the bace of his cock to the flushed red tip, already dripping with bitter precum. His eyes were almost wider than normal answer they stared at your form. You reached over and grabbed the can of wip cream, the pssssssggggggccchhhhhh (cut me some slack) sound from the can was the only sound in the room, you covered almost his entire dick in wipped cream before giveing him a wink.

You licked his cock clean, only a few bits of wipped cream here and there as you took him into your mouth. You bobed your head up and down takeing as much of him as you could, his hands tangled in you (h/c) locks as you gaged around him slightly. His head was thrown back as almost calm moans reverberated through his chest. For once his mind was blank, zooming through cloud 9 as your mouth worked wonders sucking him off. Your mouth left his cock with a wet pop as you grabbed the butterscotch. L watched with bated breath as you opened it, his cock twitched as the thick liquid drizzled down his shaft before you once again took him into your mouth.

He was close as you took him a little further, throat constricting and gagging against him. His hips jolted a little further into your mouth. You could feel him twich in your mouth, tounge sweraling around him and tasteing the sweets you previously put on him. He let out a quiet groan as he came in the back if your throat, you did your best to swallow all the thick and bitter liquid. It wasn't to bad as his cum mixed with the butterscotch slid down your throat. You pulled off of him and licked your lips.

He pulled you on top of him, his back hitting the soft sheets of the bed you shared. He gripped your thighs and ass with sticky hands as lifted you up and onto his cock. He slowly eased you onto his member, dark grey eyes staring as you stretched around him. You leaned and burried your face in his neck, moaning as he bottomed out inside you. He started thrusting upwards and your hips bounced to meet with his each time. The sound of slapping skin and airy moans filled the dark room.

The knot in your stomach started to tighten as your bounceing continued to meet his upward thrusts. His cock dragged against your walls letting you feel every vein as he hit your spongy g-spot. You were nice and tight around him, he could tell you were still sensitive from earlier. His hands gripped your ass and thighs as he kept up his pace. His cock twitched and he felt your pussy squeeze him tight. Spilling over the edge he painted your walls white, your legs shuddering and quakeing as yet another orgasm ripped through you.

Your breathing was heavy as L wrapped his arms around you to hold you in place.

"L... Let go, we gotta clean up, I feel sticky" You said, head still burried in his neck. He let out a long hum before responding. "Yes, I suppose that's right. Alright let's take a bath" You looked up at him and were greated by his warm adorable smile. "Yah, let's go"

The end for now

Ignore that this is wayyyyyyyy of schedule, the next few will probably be hcs because I need to get caught up.

Anyway this was absolute filth.

you seem to be underleveled for this stage

~ For you to access all works easily! ~

📔 Oneshots 📔

• Just your heartbeat (Arthur x Doctor!AU femReader) • Like a date? (Arthur x MageApprentice!AU femReader)

• Surprise! (Arthur x femReader) • One wish (King of Chaos Arthur x femReader)

• An unexpected encounter in the night (Vampire!AU King of Chaos Arthur x femReader)

📝 Small scenarios 📝

• Arthur Pendragon cuddling with his S/O • Arthur Pendragon with his S/O sitting on his lap • Arthur Pendragon finding his S/O unconscious

• King of Chaos Arthur laying in bed with his S/O

🧡 Arthur headcanons 🧡

• Arthur and Escanor interactions headcanons • Arthur Pendragon cuddling headcanons • Arthur Pendragon anxious headcanons • Arthur Pendragon using Chaos • Merlin's mother instincts with Arthur • Arthur Pendragon as a father • Arthur Pendragon with a doting S/O • Arthur Pendragon with a strong S/O • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who gives him handmade bouquets of flowers • Arthur Pendragon taking his S/O to a ballroom dance • Arthur Pendragon dating headcanons • Arthur Pendragon with a shy S/O who won't ask for hugs straightforward • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who controls the wind • Arthur Pendragon after the Cath incident • Arthur Pendragon with an equally energetic S/O • Arthur Pendragon reacting to his S/O wearing his clothes • Soft mornings with Arthur Pendragon • Arthur Pendragon and his S/O being soft together • Random Arthur Pendragon fluff headcanons • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who is a blacksmith • Arthur Pendragon with a sick S/O • Arthur Pendragon having a crush on Merlin's student • King of Chaos Arthur reacting to his S/O joining Percival • Jealous King of Chaos / Arthur Pendragon headcanons • Arthur Pendragon with a S/O who lost a family member • King of Chaos / Arthur Pendragon reacting to his S/O being injured • Arthur Pendragon and his S/O comforting each other • Arthur Pendragon comforting his S/O during an anxiety attack

• Arthur Pendragon reacting to Kay flirting with his crush

• Arthur Pendragon having fun in the castle's garden

• High school Au!: Student council president Arthur and his close friends

• Arthur Pendragon as a stepfather

🦁 Escanor headcanons 🦁

• Arthur and Escanor interactions headcanons

🔮 Merlin headcanons 🔮

• Merlin's mother instincts with Arthur

✨ General headcanons ✨

• NNT characters in a pillow fight

fwb: nanami kento (18+)

nanami kento doesn't know how to be just "friend's with benefits".

tags: (fem aligned user) (uses y/n) (jealousy) (not proofread also sorry this is my first real smut ive posted on tumblr) (uses the L word (gasp!))

(art for header found on pinterest)

•—————————————————————————•

fwb!nanami didn't know how to approach you, his friend and colleague, about being friend's with benefits. he wasn' the kind of man to just have sex with someone. he didn't fuck- he made love. it wasn't until gojo dug his nose in, asking you if you'd ever want a fwb within earshot of nanami- you saying you wouldn't be opposed- that made him even think to ask.

fwb!nanami who brought a bouquet of roses to your apartment the first time he came over to "netflix and chill," stumbling over his words and acting like an utter fool in front of you. it was cute, and you eased him into the situation as naturally and slowly as your body would allow. his arm was awkwardly placed on your shoulder as you nuzzled up against him on the couch, and he seemed all too focused on the movie that was playing.

"kento, do you just wanna watch the movie and try again another day?" your soft voice cooed, and it made him fall apart, the sweat on the back of his neck rolling down his back. oh god, you were so pretty. he knew he wasn't doing anything right, and yet you still looked up at him so affectionately. this isn't what friends with benefits act like, was it?

"n-no, i'm just.. i've never done anything like this before." he swallowed whatever moisture had stayed in his dry mouth, forcing himself to meet your eyes, only to meet an understanding gaze that tore down all of his walls.

"it's okay, we can go slow."

fwb!nanami who's so gentle with you during your first time together. even though you wanted your brains fucked out, his gentle touch and praise that spilled from his lips as you sunk onto his length was equally satisfying.

"you're so warm n tight, y/n.. i can't, 's too much. you feel so good," nanami groaned, his hands kneading your hips as your lips kissed along his neck, licking soothing stripes along his sensitive skin to ease him through it.

he wasn't a virgin, but still.. this. this was new. fucking someone just to fuck them. to fuck you, his gorgeous friend who had always behaved so normally towards him. would things stay normal between you two? he was already overthinking. how did friends with benefits just stay friends when all he could think about was how pretty your face twisted in pleasure, how soft your skin felt-

"kento," the sound of your sighed moan snapped him into reality, and he whimpered in his low, gentle voice, his head falling back against the couch as you rolled your hips against him. that's right- all he needed to think about right now was how good you felt milking his cock, not how your friendship was gonna turn out tomorrow.

"oh, fuck, y/n."

fwb!nanami who didn't wanna leave you that night when you fell asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest. carefully, he carried you to bed, tucking you in while stroking his fingers through your hair.

"stay," your sleepy, mumbly voice shot an arrow through his chest just as he was trying to quietly leave your bedroom.

yes, of course he'd stay. you'd taken such good care of him, making sure he was comfortable while taking every last drop of cum he had to offer. he didn't realize how pent up he was until he unloaded into you the first time. but once your lips wrapped around him maybe an hour later, he grew more needy, thrusting his dick down your throat as he gently massaged the nape of your neck.

hesitantly he snuggled into bed with you, your sleeping form molding perfectly against his, your face subconsciously nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him close. were friends with benefits supposed to be this intmate? should his heart be racing like this?

but as the events of the day weighed heavier on him, he couldn't bear it, trying to find a way to fall asleep. with your steady breaths and warmth as you cuddled him it wasn't hard to get drowsy, but his thoughts consumed him. maybe this was a mistake- him and his bleeding heart.

fwb!nanami who made you breakfast the next morning. and everytime after that. he always brought you an offering like roses or flowers when he'd come over, and treat you like a queen each morning, kissing along your body to wake you up, tasting you before you'd get a taste of his cooking.

it was cathartic for him. no strings attached, just pleasure. it took him a while to understand the point in it, perhaps less stress?

though his heart still raced everytime you sat with him at work or hung out with him- not calling it a date.

"ken, you shouldn't have. we're just grabbing coffee," you whined with your face flushed red. again, this princely man bought your coffee for you and pulled out your chair as you sat at the cafe.

"i wanted to," he would say everytime, shaking his head. and he said the same when he insisted on walking you home from work, fucking you when you got home from work, massaging your muscles from the stress of work, oh lord this man was head over heels-

fwb!nanami who didn't realize he had fallen in love with you until someone at the grocery store asked for your number.

how could someone walk up to you, standing so pretty next to the shopping cart both you and him were putting groceries in, and ask if you were single? as if nanami wasn't standing right there, pushing your shopping cart, guiding you out of the traffic of other shoppers with his hand on the small of your back?

"oh, thank you, but i'm not interested in dating right now." was your response, making nanami's neck tighten. what does that mean? what were you two doing there?

you weren't dating, no. the point is that you were friends with benefits. no strings attached. just fucking, just pleasing each other. this grocery trip was as friends, the breakfasts together were as friends, the sex was as friends-

"ken," again, your voice was like the smooth, untouchable hand pulling him out of a bush full of thorns and pulling him into your softness. "did we get garlic already?"

"mhm," was the only sound to escape his throat. to hell if you were dating or not- he needed you, perhaps even more than you needed him. or at least more than you realized you needed him.

fwb!nanami who pounded you hard into the mattress that night. he was a gentle lover for the most part, always checking in on you, whispering your praises, moaning into your ear as he finished in you.

not tonight. he needed to let out that pent out rage, towards the person who asked you out of course- not you.

"who's this pretty pussy belong to, hmm?" he chuckled as he gripped your hair tighter, pressing your face down into your pillow harder. His free hand was holding your hips with a bruising grip, keeping your ass up as he fucked you into another orgasm.

"k-ken, aagh," you mewled, your hands balling into fists as you held the sheets tighter. "'m yours kento, f-fuck.."

he smiled- it was dizzying, your voice being so broken and yet so his. "that's it beautiful. all mine."

by the time he was satisfied he was dripping sweat, his chest against your back as his breath came out in ragged pants.

of course, ever the gentleman, he slowly slid his cock out from you, watching with possessiveness and satisfaction as his cum dribbled down your folds, and then your bruised thighs. a part of him felt bad for being so rough, but then watching your legs tremble and your pussy pulse around nothing made him feel much less guilty.

"lemme take care of you, pretty," he murmured, helping you stand before carrying you to the bathroom. he was so sweet, sitting down on the bench in the shower, having you on his lap facing him as he washed the sweat and mess off your body with his large yet gentle hands.

you were drowsy from the mix of getting fucked stupid and the heat of the shower, and nanami's soapy hands kneading at your flesh was only making you feel more at ease. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, arms weakly wrapping around him.

"love you, ken," you murmured into his neck, eyes fluttering to try and stay open.

nanami froze, feeling an intense rush of heat rise to his face from ear to ear. he was sure that he would be the one to say it first. with how he worshipped you, he was positive that the words would leave his tongue first.

but alas there you were, softly kissing his collarbone as you fought to stay awake. his heart swelled, more than his cock as it twitched. god, he could fuck you again just for saying that. but more than that he wanted so desperately to kiss you.

"i love you too, y/n," he hummed, tilting your head up to meet your content smile, pressing his lips to yours, lovingly, as if he had never kissed you before.

Catching his eyes

Denji angst time!!!

The soft light filters in through the nearby window, casting pillars of light onto his soft blonde hair. His expression is surprisingly tranquil as he sleeps, his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open lightly. Although this reveals razor sharp teeth, it seems unthreatening in this morning light. Seeing Denji this peaceful almost makes it worth it. Almost. 

When he came to you in the middle of the night to lament to you about his suffering, you found it almost impossible to turn him away. As always, you would be his comfort when he had nowhere else to turn. You wanted to help him, after all, you knew how hard he always had it. He had once told you that you were similar to his old dog, whom he could share his dreams with. That you would always listen to him. That’s what you wanted to be for him. But it was so damn hard. Afterall, these dreams of his always starred a girl he could never quite get, and one you could never quite be. 

Makima. 

“Makima.” 

As you said it quietly to yourself, even the name felt wrong on your tongue. It felt like poison, a slow working but fatal poison. Perhaps that is what it was to your relationship with the confused boy in front of you. As he slept on your couch, you could almost imagine that her name would never cross his lips again. But of course, you doubted when he actually rose for the morning that it would take more than five minutes for her name to be brought up by the excited boy. Sometimes you wondered if it was actually love in his heart for the red haired woman, or he simply didn’t know how to express his true feelings. Despite all the time he had spent pouring out his heart to you, you still weren’t quite sure.

When had this happened to you? When had you allowed yourself to fall into this confusing chaotic relationship that would never be a relationship? Afterall, Denji was unaware of your feelings. Even if he knew, he was eager for romance so he might accept even with no feelings of reciprocation. The flame in his heart would always burn bright for the girl with the golden eyes. Before Denji, you had never seen Makima in this way. In your brief interactions with her, she had always seemed untouchable, but not unkind. She seemed to still care for her job and the people around her. Yet now, Denji had put a filter over your eyes. Sometimes you could see what he saw, you could see why she was so perfect. Still untouchable, but now she was worthy of adoration, worthy of worship. It was true, you could see why Denji had easily fallen for her. And yet the pain in your heart whenever she came into your gaze remained. 

Perhaps it wasn’t just seeing her. It was seeing him. His expression. His adoration. He was usually so loud, so obnoxious, so uncaring about others’ opinions. Yet around her, he grew silent. Respectful. This was a phenomenon you had never seen Denji experience with anyone else. 

Its not that you wanted that with him. You didn’t want Denji’s worship. Even asking for his love felt too much. Perhaps you just wanted his consideration. Just wanted to be in the running for his affection. 

Sometimes you could imagine it was there. When he came to you late at night, and you would offer him tea made with way too much sugar (just the way he likes it), a piece of toast with his favorite jam, and a patient ear; you could just barely see it. Just hardly there, glimmering below the surface, you could see something. Some emotion in his eyes. You didn’t quite know what it was. You didn’t want to give yourself false hope, but just like him, you liked to dream. 

Afterall, there had to be a reason he came to you. There had to be. Something inside of you refused to accept his reason of “Power would make fun of me” or “No way I’m talking to Topknot, he’s my rival!”. You never considered yourself an egotistical person, but you had to be special. Denji wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise. You were his confidant, a role you took with honor. You would always be there you this strange boy who had wormed his way into your heart. 

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound of an alarm startled you from your thoughts, even startling Denji awake as well. As you walked over to click it off, you heard him groan lightly. 

“Ugh, thanks for setting an alarm for me. Aki would be on my ass if I was late again”. 

There it was again. You didn’t think you’d heard him say “thank you” to anyone else but you. And of course, Makima. But that had to mean something, didn’t it? 

“No problem. Do you want some breakfast before you head out?”

 Your eyes dragged over his tired frame. He was still dressed in his public safety uniform, although much more disheveled now. His tie was undone, his shirt was half unbuttoned, and everything he was wearing was wrinkly. If you had more time, you would offer to fix his clothes for him, even going as far as to get out your rarely used iron, sitting forgotten in your closet. However, you knew he was under a time crunch, so his heavily creased clothes would have to do. His eyes, though they looked tired, lit up slightly at the prospect of food. A fleeting thought crossed your mind about how you wished he would look at you like that. How pathetic you are. 

“Hell yeah! But it’ll have to be pretty quick or I won’t have time to get back to Aki’s before work.” He grinned as he spoke though, clearly more excited about breakfast than worried about what Aki would do to him if he was tardy. You turned your back to him, rummaging through your cabinets to find the baked goods you had procured yesterday. Although giving them to Denji would require you to go out again for food sooner than you expected, it would be worth it. Despite the fact he would probably never reciprocate your emotions, you would still always yearn to keep him happy and healthy. You would remain on the sidelines for him, if it meant you could see his delighted smile become a constant. 

As you turned back to him, that very smile was on his face, his eyes aglow with happiness. Even if it wasn’t for you, you’d take it. You knew Denji would continue to come as long as you’d let him, seeking someone to listen to and in turn help him understand his complicated emotions. And you intended to always be there when he looked. You just wished he was looking at you for a different reason. And some part of you, would always wish to be the girl with the red hair and golden eyes. 

— THE FOOL ; KYOJURO RENGOKU ; 煉獄

summary: all you wanted was to pass out in your room, but no. here you are, dragging yourself (quite literally) up the mountainside to the ubuyashiki mansion's onsen. pairing: kyojuro rengoku / f!hashira!reader wc: 3.6k tags: set-pre season 1, rated T, hashira dynamics, kyojuro's impeccable manners, tengen uzui is a son of a bitch, good fluff, embarrassed flirting, slightly forbidden romance, retable reader insert who just wants to be left alone to bathe in peace a/n: don't look at me.

Your bones are tired. 

Not just your bones — but every ounce of marrow in those very bones. The expression 'bone tired'? Yea, it was written and smithed with you in mind. Tonight, you're the muse for true exhaustion — battered, bruised, and barely hanging on. 

The short walk up to the Ubuyashiki Mansion's onsen is proving formidable. 

Every muscle in your body aches and with each step closer, you pray you'll have a moment of quiet peace to yourself. After all, Shinobu insisted (read as threatened) that you soak in the hot spring after administering simple medical aid post-mission. 

Something, something, hot spring stimulates blood flow, blah, blah, strong healing properties.

All you wanted was to pass out in your room, but no. Here you are, dragging yourself (quite literally) up the mountainside through the willows of wisteria on a lantern-lit path to the hot spring.

Your geta catches on a root and you trip up, scoffing tiredly as you catch yourself and grumble a curse. Ow. Irritation simmers under your skin, and you wonder absently what's gotten into you. 

It normally takes more for you to be so... cranky. And openly so.

When you reach the gate of the onsen, your eye twitches.

Son of a —

There's Hashira abound tonight. 

"Look who's back from her little foray out East!"

Did Tengen need to be so loud? 

All the damn time?

The small, dimly lit spot is surrounded by wisteria and maple. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you sigh and shut the red gate behind you, paying careful mind not to catch your fingers in the latch. Lanterns are perched on rocks, candles only beginning to run with wax in the evening air. The open-air bath overlooks the sprawling estate down the mountain. 

You sigh deeply from your chest, your eyes practically at half-mast when you turn around to snipe Tengen with an unamused look.

"Our dear Dream Hashira... you look like shit," comes the rogue commentary, "No offense, beautiful."

Tengen is at the far edge of the steaming bath with both arms outstretched along the edge. As always, he's taking up as much space as humanly possible. His silver hair hangs about his shoulders — and he even goes so far as to pin you with a rogueish smile. You stare flatly at him in response.

Then: the middle finger. 

"Woof. Tough crowd tonight," he rumbles as he slides a look towards a decidedly uninterested Sanemi. The Wind Hashira has his head hung back against the edge with a towel over his forehead — his eyes are closed. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was asleep. 

"Tengen, do me a favor," comes the gritted reply from the scarred man, "and shut the hell up." 

You motion plainly to Sanemi — the gesture says thank you — with your brows raising in silent agreeance. Even the act of speaking right now is all too much. 

"I must agree with Tengen," comes the wistful and soft voice of Muichiro Tokito as he lifts his chin from its submerged position; his hair is swimming about him. The Mist Hashira looks... almost peaceful; but his words are damning, "You do look like shit."

Somehow it's worse when Tokito says it.

That makes Sanemi lift his head and pry one eye open. 

You serve him an unenthused look from your spot by the benches. You hope for a bit of sympathy, but instead:

"...What the fuck happened to you?" comes his dry response to your current state of being. 

Which — fine, maybe it's fair. The others rarely ever see you in any state aside from perfect. You're meticulous about your appearance; from your uniform to your posture, you value perfection over all else. The devil that has always haunted you is the details. Perhaps it was your rigid upbringing, but regardless—

"Ah!" suddenly, there's a resoundingly warm voice booming across the small courtyard from the onsen's koshitsu, "I see you've returned, Lady— Oh... my, are you quite alright...?"

You've got to be kidding me.

Kyojuro Rengoku's face is twisted into genuine worry. He's standing in the middle of the path, his focus entirely on you. His hair is undone and the sunburst strands are spilling along his chest and back. There's a small cotton towel slung around his narrow waist. You purposefully level your eyes with his, not daring to let your gaze waver — and then you curse Kocho Shinobu a thousand times over for sending you here.  

(Tengen is smirking. You want to throw your sandal at his head.)

Finally, you speak. 

"I'm fine." 

You don't sound fine. You sound like a woman who'd endured being unceremoniously whipped about by a snake Demon in a swamp for three hours before she could finally land a killing blow. 

Kyojuro frowns. His eyes — like two gems of carnelian — are nearly glowing with concern. Those dark brows of his knit and you try to grit out a tight smile. It fails. It looks more like a wince than anything.

It's... pathetic.

"Perhaps a soak will help," the Flame Hashira offers gently. His tone is soft with pity.

Shit. Fuck. Damn it. Fucking Shinobu, fucking hot spring, fucking swamp demon, fucking—

Right. Right, a soak. It's the thing that Tengen Uzui is somehow singlehandedly making more unbearable — he's dragging Sanemi and Muichiro by the necks from the onsen — by leaving you alone with Rengoku. 

"Go on you two! We're just leaving anyways, right fellas?"

"Die," you spit hoarsly in his direction; your expression is flat.

Tengen throws you a wink. "Relax a little, pretty. You deserve it!"

You could still hit him with your geta. Maybe if you put enough force behind it, it could kill him. 

After all, he's been doing this ever since you let it slip about your little crush. 

And just when a girl thinks she can trust an ex-shinobi... never again. You don't care if Tengen is the one offering to buy the sake, you're never drinking with that man again. He's a gossip and a whore. A gossiping whore. A devoted husband-whore who gossips like no-fucking-other. 

Admitting to Tengen Uzui's stupid face that you've been avoiding Kyojuro Rengoku because of your feelings was the second worst mistake you ever made.

Your first worst mistake was not dragging your sorry ass back down the mountain after you and Kyojuro were left alone in the onsen. 

At least — at the very least — it's quieter now, even if the silence feels oddly intimate. 

You're thankful Kyojuro has retreated into the water of the bath; the distance allows you to ignore the burning pit in your gut at the thought of him and you together. In the onsen. Alone.

You've bathed alongside the other Hashira before. The whole lot of you are warriors. There's no shame in the body — and admittedly, you grew up around konyoku onsen in Tokyo. 

It wasn't the nakedness that was the problem. 

...Maybe it was a little bit of the nakedness. 

But, mostly the fact it's Kyojuro Rengoku: the kindest man you've ever met, a man whose smile is nearly as bright as the morning sun, a man whose laugh feels like a summer thunderstorm. A man who is tall, strong, and handsome. It's no small secret he's well-loved among the ranks; respected, admired, sought after... Who wouldn't make an attempt atcatching his eye? After all, he's capable, swift, courageous, honorable—

Having a heart attack.

He's having a heart attack.

I mean — it's you. And him. Alone. 

...Naked. And alone.

He himself could have strangled Tengen when the ex-shinobi scurried off, leaving him here — though he'd never admit it. That sneaky bastard is fully aware of Kyojuro's feelings towards you, and Kyojuro swears the Sound Hashira gets off on forcing him to confront the very thing he forbids himself to even dwell upon. 

Your voice pulls him from his enraptured internal monologue.

"I am fine," you break the silence as your fingers work at the obi around your waist in nervousness. Your back is to him, and as the grey kimono slips down your shoulders, he panics, "I swear."

"I'm not sure I've ever seen you in such a state as this," he tries to sound level, confident, as he turns in the water; suddenly the mountainside is very beautiful. Yes, very nice. Very... mountain-y. 

Kyojuro's eyes flick over his shoulder briefly, back at you.

He sees skin. More of your skin than he's ever seen. There are dimples at the base of your spine. Good god. He swallows tightly and turns his gaze forward once more. 

Even the act of shrugging your kimono off is enough to make you rasp. The ribs Shinobu had been so concerned about are protesting now. It's fine. Everything is fine. You peek over your shoulder. Relief floods you as you realize Rengoku's back is turned. 

Quickly, you slip into the onsen. It's the quickest you've moved all night. 

You plunge in deep, ignoring the burn of the water along of the more raw marks and bruises bitten into your skin. Your ribs wail in protest as you inhale sharply at the heat, and you try your best to coach your expression into unwavering when Kyojuro turns back around. 

"Better?"

All you can do is grunt from your submerged position.

That makes him laugh.

You try to memorize the warm sound and tuck it neatly into your heart. It's cute, the way his eyes scrunch when he laughs. You find yourself staring for a second before swallowing down your affections.

"Shinobu demanded I come," you explain slowly, lifting your hands and playing with the surface of the water, "If I had it my way, I'd be in bed."

Or murdering Tengen in his sleep.

"The hot springs are good for healing," Kyojuro chirps brightly, canting his head as he speaks almost as if he's going to reprimand you. His voice drops an octave, "You know that, Lady Hashira."

He's teasing you.

He's — he's seriously teasing you.

You're naked and he's teasing you.

You sink a little lower into the water and narrow your eyes at him — the act makes you look a bit like an angry, wet cat. Kyojuro can only grin. Truly this is rare form for you. Your disposition is usually sunny, if not well-manicured and mindfully well-mannered. You are every bit a Lady Hashira. Moreso than Shinobu or Mitsuri in a way. 

You are the Dream Pillar, after all, and a woman composed purely of romanticism in his eyes. It's the way he could see you, in another life, in a fine silk kimono and delicate make-up; he could see you in gold and pearls, pouring tea worth more than his monthly salary into fine ceramic cups. Suitors abound.

Though, perhaps that's not so different than now.

Not with the way you're delicately pouring yourself a helping of Tengen's abandoned sake at the edge of the onsen. You'd think it was the most expensive liquor in the land with the care you take to not spill a drop. 

You slide him a hesitant look over your shoulder, the water lapping at your bruised back. Kyojuro lifts a brow.

"What?" you ask, feigning innocence as you turn back to the task at hand, "It'd be a shame if it went to waste."

"I didn't know sake had healing properties," Kyojuro offers slowly, his lips twitching upwards as he watches you take a long sip from the cup.

"Something, something, blood flow," you murmur mostly to yourself, tossing back the rest with a scowl and a wince, "I'm sure Shinobu would agree."

Kyojuro leans back against the wall, sinking a little deeper as he settles onto the seat beneath the water. The ends of his hair are soaked, turning an even darker shade of crimson. His shoulders flex as he relaxes his arms against the stones. 

His own body is tired. Beneath the water, he absently stretches his legs and pays careful mind to the twinge of pain in his left knee.

"Whether she agrees or disagrees is none of my business," he supplies diplomatically.

You reach for the jug, giving it a light shake. It's nearly empty anyway. 

You extend it, offering it to Kyojuro.

The Flame Hashira shakes his head. "No thank you. I reserve drink for special occasions only."

You quirk a brow. Your tone is light. Airy, almost. "I didn't know that about you."

He hums. You place the sake down, sink lower into the water, and try to focus on his face — not the strength in his forearms, nor the water running in rivets down his chest. 

"My father has quite a love for the stuff," he admits with a controlled frown, "I avoid it when I can."

Ah. 

Right. 

Your own father, also a retired Hashira, voiced many a feeling about Shinjuro Rengoku when he was given the chance. You'd visited home months ago and when you mentioned serving alongside Kyojuro, his eyes narrowed dangerously and impeccably sharp. His tongue lashed out at you — as if you were the retired Flame Pillar himself. 

There's a history there, it seems.

"I apologize."

"Don't," he says; firm yet soft.

"It is better that way, really," you mumble in an attempt to soothe the ache you can see across his face, "Liquor leads to making many a fool."

Kyojuro's brow quirks. "You sound as though you're speaking from experience."

"Perhaps," you say slyly, wandering to the far end of the pool. You're nearly submerged to your nose, "A lady shall never tell."

"And if I asked Tengen?"

"You wouldn't dare." The water splashes as you whip around and glare — though Kyojuro senses no real malice. 

It was no small secret you'd been dragged through the mud after you and Tengen's night on the town. Why the Master called a meeting that morning was beyond you, but there's a part of you that wonders if he was slightly amused at your less-than-pleasant state. You swore you were going to puke all over the engawa when you bowed — never mind the fact the morning sun's brightness was enough to nearly drill your brain into a pulp. 

Kyojuro had never seen you so... disheveled. 

Second to tonight, that is.

The Flame Hashira smirks. "If the lady forbades it, then who am I to ignore her wishes?"

Fucking Tengen, fucking Shinobu, fucking Kyojuro—

Fucking honorable, respectable, polite Kyojuro.

"Well, this lady does forbade it," you say with narrowed eyes, "So there."

"You really are in rare form this evening."

He's smirking. That's new.

"Yes, well," you mumble as you lull your head back and wet the rest of your hair; the warmth seeps through the strands and feels soothing on your scalp. You already feel better. Less like a swamp demon's plaything, more like a girl trying her best not to let her petal-mouthed feelings slip out, "We can blame Muzan Kibutsuji for that."

"I surmise it has been a difficult day?" he rumbles quietly from his spot in the onsen.

"You haven't the slightest idea."

"Care to enlighten me?" 

"And embarrass myself?" she mutters, splashing absently, "I'd prefer to remain capable in your eyes, Rengoku. I'll spare you the details. And anyone else who asks."

He's grinning. That sort that appears in an optimist's dream. Bright, sunny and so enrapturing it feels like your heart is being scorched by its warmth. 

"Your capability will never waver in my eyes," Kyojuro supplies as he flicks the water absently; his gaze has fallen to the sway of the wisteria in the evening air, "You are amazing. One particularly bad day does not diminish that fact."

Maybe it's the sake. Maybe it's the compliment. Either way, the tips of your ears feel warm. 

That little, nibbling feeling is back in his chest. The very one he's been trying his best to ignore for months. 

"You are only being kind," you mutter, "Because, as the other's made very clear, I look like shit." 

Kyojuro finds himself smiling a bit at the jest — his fingers glide along the top of the water, tracing idly patterns into it as he watches you sink deeper and deeper into the hot spring. Finally, for a moment, you descend below the surface.

Then, you break the surface slowly. Your hair is swimming around you, clinging to your bare shoulders. You exhale, brush water from your lashes, and inhale. You look... beautiful. A different sort of beautiful than he's used to. This sort of beauty is relaxed. Tired. You seem a bit freer than usual — unrestrained by the image you aim to keep well protected amongst the others. 

Kyojuro sinks a little deeper himself.

He's still watching you.

Your eyes find his. 

There's a moment where all you two can do is blink — Flame and Dream mingling for a breath beneath the stars. Wide eyes bound by a moment of silence, a moment of hesitation. He feels like all the breath has been swept from his lungs. All Kyojuro can do is stare into your eyes.

Then, he speaks.

Blurts, more aptly.

"You are beautiful."

...Did he just say that? 

Your lips part in quiet shock.

Suddenly, his posture is more rigid, and his expression a bit panicked — perhaps because your own eyes widen a mile at the words that spill from his mouth. Kyojuro raises his hands as he inhales sharply, the heat of the bath inching a degree hotter. Whether it's from the sudden admission or a misfire of his breathing technique, you're unsure. 

His cheeks are hot. He leans forward, shaking his head.

Damn you, Tengen. Damn you, damn you—

"I-I simply mean — you... You do not look like shit—" He attempts to explain.

"Oh—"

"Yes, yes, I—"

"Thank you," you say quickly, trying to calm your own racing heart as he swallows down a bought of embarrassment and offers a pained smile your way. It's enough to quell his panic.

"Of course," he breathes out, sagging a bit deeper into the water as he fiddles with his hands. He has a habit of rubbing at his callouses. Kyojuro swallows, then hoarsly admits: "One might think that I was drinking the sake with the way I'm making a fool of myself."

Your laugh is like a balm. 

"Hardly," you offer as you sink into the water with a smile; your eyes are glimmering with something a bit mischievous as you swim towards the water's edge. You pause, then slip a look his way over your bare shoulder, "...Do you mean it?"

"That I'm a fool? Of course."

You scoff quietly. Kyojuro's smile is tight — knowing. 

Then, he speaks warmly and kindly. He confirms your question with ease. His arms are wound across his chest. "You are truly beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever had the grace to lay eyes upon, my Lady." 

Maybe you could drown yourself here. 

You're not entirely sure how you'll ever recover from this — not from how tender he says it, not from how honest his words sound. So suddenly you feel as though he's hung every star in the sky for your eyes only, having wished upon them, time and time again, for nothing more than a moment of your time. It's reverent is what it is.

You're about to open your mouth and say something when a bright, girlish giggle cuts through the tension—

Kyojuro Rengoku has never been more thankful for Mitsuri Kanroji's ill timing. Behind her is Lady Shinobu. 

The pink and green-haired Hashira is ecstatic to find both yourself and Rengoku in the hot spring — her delight is palpable as she waves her arms and cheers brightly into the air. Her crow caws overhead. Her darker-haired counterpart levels them both with polite smiles.

"Oh, this is just lovely! My friends!" she's chirping as she closes the gate, "I am so glad to see you both back safe and sound—"

"Heading my advice, it seems," Shinobu says slowly — almost like she knows something you don't. Her pale, lilac eyes flick between you and Rengoku. For a moment, you almost suspect she's about to ask something.

"How are you feeling?" Mitsuri cries in your direction, shrugging her kimono off with ease — unbothered entirely by Rengoku's presence. The two are like brother and sister, and Mitsuri has never batted an eye about nudity, "How are your ribs?"

Kyojuro levels you with a look. 

You offer a sheepish grin. 

"Yes," Shinobu mutters as she slips out of her geta, "Four broken ribs."

Kyojuro's nostrils flare. "You said nothing about the sort."

You lift your chin in defiance. "I told you I was sparing you the details."

Mitsuri's bright eyes dart between the two of you — a little bit of giddiness blooming at the sight of Kyojuro looking so worried about their fellow Dream Hashira. 

He slides a look towards Kocho. Then rolls his shoulders. With a sigh, he moves to stand, the water lapping at his waist. You decidedly find the edge of the onsen very interesting as you try to coach yourself through the overwhelming urge to stare. 

"I trust you'll monitor her condition, Kocho," he murmurs as he moves through the water; the words sit nicely in your heart and you feel a little pride swell at his indication that he cares if you're alright, "I'll let you ladies have some time amongst yourselves."

You catch his eyes for a second. A moment. A lingering little breath that mingles between you — like Kocho and Mitsuri aren't there. Then, he stepped from the bath and gathered his robe.

For now, the two of you will pretend earlier never happened.

For now.

Just a little thing between the two of you — and suddenly, you're not so cranky. Once the muse for exhaustion, you're now the muse of lovesickness. 

When the gate closes behind Kyojuro, Kocho speaks.

"...What was all that?"

Nevermind. The crankiness is back.

"Shut up."

Letters From the Future

A/N: hello hello this is also cross-posted on ao3 so you can check it out there too if you wanna! i don’t know if there’s any demand for bertolt content but if there is i am here to provide. hope you enjoy ;)

Summary: A pile of letters, tied in red ribbon and addressed to her from a man now dead.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff and Angst, meaning fluff on the way but angst on the end. I’ve never written angst so I don’t know if i’m any good at it but it made me sad writing it so maybe that means something

This bad boy is over 12k words. Please set aside the appropriate chunk of time if you would like to read it all in one sitting.

Pairings: Bertolt Hoover/Reader

“Y/n?”

There was no response when Jean knocked on the door. She had been in her room for the last day now, only appearing in brief intervals to accept meager portions of food or take a trip to the communal bathrooms. Everyone who saw her gave her at least ten feet of clearance, as though she were going to combust, as though she were going to sink her teeth into her own hand and transform before their eyes.

“Y/n, I know you’re in there. I have something for you.”

“No, thank you.”

“Too bad. If you don’t open the door, I’m bringing Mikasa to break it down.”

He had wanted to threaten that he would break down the door himself, but Mikasa carried a certain weight around the barracks that he simply could not attain.

Jean balanced the weight of the letters in his hand. There had to be at least two dozen in the pile, likely more, and some of them were several pages long. When he had pulled them out of the wall, they had been wrapped neatly with a red ribbon and kept in a simple leather pouch that tied shut with a drawstring. Bertolt’s other effects were in various states of disrepair, showing signs of water damage, wrinkling, or general wear and tear”

The letters were pristine.

He had taken one look at the letter on top of the pile before averting his gaze. The words were not meant for him. Every single letter was addressed to the same person, who was now in the middle of reluctantly shuffling towards the door before Jean could call in reinforcements to smoke her out.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t be rude. I brought you something,” he reiterated, shoving the pile of letters in her direction before she could refuse them. “Mail for you.”

“My family is dead. No one sends me mail.”

“You’ll want to read these.”

She scrunched her brow but finally accepted the letters and slammed the door in Jean’s face, purposefully ignoring the indignant, “you’re welcome,” that he shouted through the door. She carefully pulled open the red ribbon and let the pile fall out all over her desk. As she scanned the words, it became incredibly obvious why the letters had been given to her and not kept for evidence.

Keep reading