Grell x Reader oneshots • Black Butler

Many a scar

A/n: just remembered I wrote this weeks ago and forgot to post it. So here you go, T4T time baybee!!! Reader is kept neutral but has had top surgery and T.

You'd been alive... well, undead, a long, long time. Over those years you'd accumulated many scars. Some from just being a clumsy kid and tripping over, some from times of hardship, but the ones you were most proud of were the ones on your chest. It took you thousands of years of waiting and suffering but finally, you'd gotten yourself that flat chest you'd dreamed of.

It was odd really, you'd gotten so used to the pain of having to live in the wrong body you were so used to the feeling of weight on your shoulders and the burden of dysphoria. But it was all gone, you'd not had one of those day ruining thoughts since you woke up from the surgery. You finally felt a sense of peace, but it was such a new feeling you were hesitant about it. Even if it was a good feeling.

Grell had quite her share of scars too, the biggest was being a stab through her gut from her mission on Campania back in the 1800s. A lot of her others though were quite hidden, not like she's going to be walking around naked is she? Her surgery scars weren't nearly as noticeable. But she still carried them, and she could still feel the slight difference in skin texture when she touched them.

"When does the fight or flight feeling go away?"

She gave you a confused look, sipping her much too sweet for you strawberry lemonade as you both sat out on the balcony for a summers day off.

"Like after surgery? You know how you gotta like... carry dysphoria with you forever before you get to the end of your transition? And you feel constantly anxious? When does that stop?" You asked.

"Honestly, never. There's always going to be some little bit of it in the back of your mind, but you learn to ignore it" she replied.

"Ugh really?"

She set her drink aside, tilted her red heart sunglasses up to get a better look at you. Leaning back in your chair, shirt off and scars exposed.

"The knowledge I can't carry a child is always in the back of my mind... but I can block it out. I've got tits and a that WAP now, I can focus on that" she explained.

"Hm, true. I guess there's always going to be something dysphoria brain finds 'wrong'. Just block it out?" You asked.

"Just block it out"

Her big floppy sun hat cast a shadow over her face, the rest of her usually pale skin slightly tinged from the sun. You told her to put sunscreen on, looks like she didn't put ENOUGH on. She insisted on wearing her red gingham bikini set, so her skin was at the mercy of the harsh sun. And yet despite the slight burn, it bought out her freckles. Across her shoulders and cheeks. She was a true red head with all those freckles.

Pulling her hat up a bit to clear her view, she leaned over to you.

"Focus on these" she said, tracing a scar across your chest.

"Easy to focus on now I can actually breathe. That post op binder was crushing" you snickered.

"You complained 24/7, I know honey"

"Girl, you literally can't take it off for anything. For five weeks! I had to sweat in that for 5 weeks straight before I could take it off to shower. And then I had to keep it on ANOTHER five weeks!"

"Would you rather have popped your stitches?"

She had a point, the binder was annoying but better than bursting those stitches and bleeding everywhere. Now you were nice and flat, smooth to the touch aside from the slightly rough skin of the scars.

"Also, focus on this" she said with a teasing grin, tracing her finger down your body and hovering over your shorts.

"Not bad for a trans person I'll admit that" you snickered.

"A cis man would be crying over 3 inches"

"That's real big for T"

"You got a bigger dick than I ever had" she joked.

Maybe that wasn't entirely the truth but it was definitely now she lacked it.

"Big trans dick energy" you laughed.

"Exactly" she snickered.

There was a certain joy about dating another trans person. You'd always understand each other on a very deep and personal level that no cis person could compare to. No cis person would understand you when you said 'the fog over a mysterious Forrest is so gender' but Grell did. When she'd pointed to a bowl of cherries and said 'that's my gender' you understood her completely.

And she always kept you positive, even in the face of dysphoria or transphobia. Even if the world was against you, she was with you. If everyone turned their back on her, you wouldn't. You'd stick by her. With that shared experience of growing up knowing something was wrong, coming to terms with your situations and having to overcome and face the world as trans people, there was just something so special about being T4T together.

She looked up at you, resting her head on your chest and tracing the scars with her gentle fingers.

"What a doll you are" she smiled.

You smiled back, resting your hand on her back and giving her a loving squeeze.

"I could say that about you, with your porcelain skin and bright eyes" you replied.

"Hand sculpted by the gods you are, every little detail"

"So are you"

"Take my compliments (y/n)"

Damn, she got you again. She could always tell when you tried to turn the love back onto her.

"I'm pretty I know, but so are you Damnit" she added.

"Ok ok, you're right. But come on, can't I admire your silky hair and dainty hands?" You teased.

"Only if you admire my juicy ass as well, I worked hard for it!"

Well from this angle you certainly were. In fact the way she squished her chest against you was probably rather deliberate of her too. You gave her a playful glare, only earning a devilish giggle from her in return.

"Can I not admire my because darling in more physical way too?" She teased.

"You may... although probably not out on the balcony"